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silversatoru · 3 years

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birthdays don’t have to suck

fushiguro megumi x f!reader (elli)

synopsis: you get really sick on your birthday, but megumi makes sure that you still have a good day :))

t/w: fluff, reader is sick, vomiting, medicine (tylenol lol), some details pertain specifically to elli

wc: 2.2k

a/n: a small birthday present for the love of my life @megumifushi who never sleeps enough and is always sick,, i love u and i hope ur days not too bad <3

you stared into your dimly lit laptop, red eyes squinting at the black text that sped across the screen as your fingers scrambled against the keys. you weren’t even sure that what you were writing was comprehensible at this point, but your essay that was due tomorrow morning wasn’t gonna write itself. at this point it just needed to get done, concerns of quality were thrown out the window hours ago.

aside from the burning and stinging in your eyes, your entire body ached, and you were ridden with chills and goosebumps. seemed like a fever was coming on, but you didn’t have the time or capacity to care about that right now. you’d pop a few tylenol and crawl into bed in a couple hours, and everything would be better tomorrow.

what time was it anyway? it couldn’t possibly be that late yet, right?

you glanced to the corner of the screen, eyes falling on a bright 3:56am that made your heart sink and your eyes widen. you had a terrible habit of losing track of time and staying up into ungodly hours of the night — a habit that your wonderful boyfriend was trying so terribly hard to break.

you glanced to your left and took in his sleeping form, his lips parted ever so slightly as he took small breaths of air. he’d be disappointed and upset with you if he knew how horrid your sleep schedule had been lately, and he’d probably blame your chills and headaches on your lack of sleep as well — which in all fairness was probably pretty accurate.

“i’ll just finish this up real quick and then i promise i’ll sleep, ‘kay gumi?” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his soft, spiky hair.

he was undisturbable, his mind off somewhere in a dreamland that was quite the distance from your small bedroom. and that was probably for the better, because him nagging at you to go to sleep would be too distracting for you to get your work done.

your hands moved rapidly against the keyboard for about another hour, words spilling onto the screen until you finally hit the page requirement for your paper. it was probably terrible, most likely had a few words spelled wrong, and honestly you were pretty certain you’d repeated yourself several times, but fuck it — submit. you were typically an excellent student, so one bad paper wouldn’t kill you, and you were too tired and achy to care right now.

you got up and placed your laptop onto your desk, plugging it in and letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips as you made your way back over to the bed. the soft blankets were therapeutically warm on your chilly skin as you crawled in against megumi’s back, effectively turning him into the little spoon and pressing your nose to the back of his neck. thankfully, sleep found you shortly after, your eyes fluttering shut as you drifted off into a much needed slumber.

babe

wake up

babe

you woke up to small finger pokes to your cheek from megumi, his face laced with concern as your vision finally focused on his features. he bent over and pressed his lips to your forehead, pausing there for a fraction of a second and then standing back up.

“i think you have a fever. i noticed when i woke up and you felt like a fucking space heater,” he frowned, confirming your initial suspicions from last night, “i’ll go get some medicine”.

you groggily nodded your head, shivers coursing through your body and dotting your extremities with goosebumps. your condition had definitely deteriorated overnight, your eyes stinging and a horrible nausea creeping up your throat.

by the time he returned with the medicine you had yourself propped up against the pillows, thick blankets pulled up to your chin in an attempt to minimize the icy feeling in your body. he handed two small tylenol tablets to you with a disappointed look on his face — a look that said: i’m gonna kick your ass for not getting enough sleep again.

“i’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well enough to go out tonight,” he hummed as he handed you a glass of water, your brain filling with thick fog as you tried to decipher why he would need to let anyone know you were sick.

the look of pure confusion signaled to him that you had no idea what he was talking about, megumi shaking his head before he spoke up again, “it’s your birthday, dumbass, we were supposed to get food and stuff with yuuji, inumaki, and nobara and maki”.

birthday

forgetting about that was another habit you continued to succumb to every year.

“mm, shit,” you sighed after drinking back the pills, “i forgot”.

“figured you would,” megumi clicked his tongue, “but i didn’t, because i’m a good boyfriend. can you drag yourself out to the kitchen? you should eat”.

“don’t think so,” you mumbled, attempting to disappear back under the blankets before he could coerce you to follow him outside of the bedroom.

but megumi is impossibly even more stubborn than you are, wrapping his arms under your body and lifting you to his chest, “guess i’ll just have to carry you then”.

“fine,” you let out a long groan — was it a bit dramatic? maybe. but in your defense you felt like you’d been hit with a train.

he peppered your face with kisses as he carried you out of the bedroom, lovingly setting you down on one of the high bar stools around your kitchen table. he instructed you to stay in the chair, abruptly returning to the bedroom to bring out a couple blankets to wrap around your shoulders. you were grateful for the extra heat, you body still shaking and shivering as the medications worked to cure your fever.

megumi was a man of few words, preferring to display his love for you through acts of service than grand confessions, and this was very eminent when he wordlessly grabbed a couple pots and began cooking for you. you let your face fall onto your arms, resting your chin as you watched him silently shuffle between the stove and the pantry. the silence was comfortable, and you weren't going to complain about watching your muscular boyfriend walk around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of loose, plaid pajama pants.

a few minutes later he was placing a steaming bowl of soup and a couple slices of baked bread in front of you, a savory scent flooding your nostrils.

“red lentil,” he spoke as he handed you a spoon, “it’s your favorite, so you better eat it”.

“yes, sir,” you gave him a small smile, dipping the cool metal into the hot liquid and scooping a spoonful into your mouth.

“all of it”

“yes, megumi, i will try”

to no surprise, the soup went down pretty fucking horribly, your head hanging low over the toilet while megumi held your hair out of the way. your throat was practically raw by the time you were done heaving and vomiting up the meal, your eyes brimming with hot tears.

megumi tied your hair up in a neat bun so he could step away, filling up a glass with water and carefully helping you to take small sips and rinse out your mouth. he was tedious with the clean up, washing your face and helping you brush your teeth — ensuring that you felt the best you could given the situation. he then scooped you back into his arms, carrying you back to bed and profusely apologizing for making you eat the soup — but he was just trying to make you feel better, he really was doing his best.

you were ready to add today to your long list of terrible birthdays, chalking it up as another failed attempt, but megumi was not about to let that happen. he knew you had a rough history with birthdays, but now that he was here? you’d have a bad birthday over his dead body.

he scoured the back of your fridge for ginger ale, gatorade, jello, and whatever else he could find to make you the perfect sick-person platter. and he made sure he was logged into every streaming service that the two of you collectively owned, preparing netflix, hulu, and crunchy roll so that he could easily access every single one of your favorite shows and movies. and so you spent the majority of your day tucked safely against megumi’s chest, forcing down small sips of ginger ale and watching an assortment of tv.

your phone rang at some point — a facetime call from all of your friends who had gotten together so they could all wish you a collective happy birthday. megumi stuck a singular candle into a cup of blue-raspberry jello and ignited it with a small flame; and then they all sang the most terrible rendition of “happy birthday” that you’d ever heard, yuuji’s voice a little louder and little more out-of-tune than everyone else's.

you mustered enough energy to blow out the flame, everyone cheering while megumi shoveled a scoop of the blue jelly into your mouth. you swallowed it with a smile, praying it stayed down while everyone sent you off with an assortment of “feel better!”, “we love you!”, and “wish you were here!”

your night got pretty quiet after that, you and megumi climbing back under the covers to watch a few more episodes of your new favorite anime. it wasn’t until well into the night that he finally asked you if he could give you the presents he’d gotten for you. reluctantly, you said yes. you hated receiving gifts (it was just one of the many reasons you hated your birthday) but you knew that megumi wasn’t going to take no for answer.

he was obviously nervous, palms sweaty as he handed you a couple neatly wrapped packages in plain, solid colored paper. they were very megumi, perfect folds with not a single crease, the paper simple yet elegant and adorned with a singular bow on top.

you hesitantly peeled the paper off the smaller of the two, revealing a tiny box that contained a classic looking silver locket. you felt your heart pinch in your chest as you clicked the locket open and revealed two small pictures of each of the two of you. you weren’t particularly sentimental, but on top of your lack of sleep and not feeling very well, the simple gift caused few tears to well up in your eyes. but he was quick to wipe them away, insisting that you had to open the second gift first, and that birthdays weren’t meant for crying.

you followed his instructions, ripping open the second package and revealing a larger box that contained a series of envelopes. each one was decorated with tiny doodles of you and megumi, his demon dogs, hearts, etc. they were sickeningly cute, and you immediately reached for the first one before megumi reached out and stopped you.

“they’re not for now; they’re for when i’m gone, you know, on missions and stuff,” he could barely even maintain eye contact, his eyes dipping low as yours filled back up with tears.

despite your lack of energy and the fever that was starting to return, you showered him in hugs and kisses after that, thanking him over and over for the most perfect gifts, and for making your day as wonderful as it could have been.

all things aside, you were coming around to the idea that birthday’s don’t have to suck.

bonus: the first letter:

to y/n:

i know im not great at telling you what i have to say through words, actually, i’m kind of really bad at it. but i thought writing these might be a nice way to try and get better? i’m not sure. anyway, i guess i’ll start by saying that you mean a lot to me, and i probably miss you a lot right now (even though ill be too afraid to reach out and say it). not sure how long i’ll be gone for at the time but it’s probably a few days at least. gonna work hard so i can hurry back to see you.

i hope you’re sleeping enough, but i know you’re not. you never do, especially when i’m not there to yell at you. i hope you’re eating enough too. but you’re probably also not doing that. you’re like taking care of a stubborn child, you know that? but this is supposed to be a love letter so i’ll try to refrain from scolding you too much. but do try to take care of yourself. ill see you soon.

megumi

#jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro fluff #silvers mutuals <3 #megumifushi

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attllhak · 3 years

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@tortilla-of-courage I flipped one of my Fancy coins and got heads, so here’s the one about Wild! (And Twilight and Time and Malon.)

This is also the first fic I wrote, so there’s also a lot of worldbuilding details here too. Regardless, enjoy!

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Twilight really shouldn’t be surprised by things like this anymore.

He had managed to befriend a trench mer about a year ago, and after all the drama that came from that he really should be used to weird shit just, happening to him.

But, here he was, surprised.

In his defence, usually he didn’t run into other mer when out swimming.

His family’s farm was along the coastline, and there weren’t any pods native to the area (outside of the trench mer that lived in the trench a few miles out to open sea), so the only mer that Twilight had ever run into were friends of his father’s who’d come to visit.

This was not a friend of his father’s.

The most obvious detail that this was something new was that all of Time’s friends were deep sea merfolk, and this individual was very much a tropical mer.

Well, maybe a mer. Twilight had never been good at telling the difference between merrow and mer, and that was made harder by the fact that he’d never seen a tropical mer before. This person could be mer or merrow and Twilight would never have been able to tell.

The second detail that said this was a new circumstance was all the blood.

That was actually what drew Twilight over. Large amounts of blood drew sharks, and though they were mostly kept away from the shores by the local zora, it was still better to avoid large blood pools in the water regardless.

Upon approaching, Twilight had noticed that the blood was fresh, and was coming from a merfolk that was definitely new to the area.

This tropical mer had been horribly injured, the entire left side of their body leaking blood into the water around them. Long, tangled blonde hair floated around their head, and their pale blue fins were tattered and damaged, and a few on their left side were just gone altogether.

Twilight initially thought they were dead until he got a bit closer, and their eyes moved to look at him.

Twilight had jerked back in surprise, eyes wide as he took in the expression on the mystery mer’s face, which had gone from defeated to hopeful.

Twilight had to fight to remember to breathe with his gills and not his throat for a moment.

He swallowed, and slowly tried to remember how to speak with his skin.

‘Who, what, why,’ he floundered for a bit. ‘Who are you?’

The mystery mer just watched him lazily, as though they didn’t have the strength to do anything more.

After a long, long moment, and what seemed like quite a bit of effort and pain, they managed to flash ‘help’ at him.

Twilight didn’t even hesitate, moving as quickly as he could without tripping over his fins to the mystery mer’s side, gently scooping them into his arms. Once he had a decent grip on them, he looked around to orient himself, and then took off towards the shoreline where he knew his parents would be.

He didn’t know if the mystery mer had issues with humans, but he couldn’t think of any other way to help them. The trench mer really couldn’t be trusted with delicate matters like this, as much as he loved Midna, so his parents were the only option he had.

He just hoped it wouldn’t make things worse by accident.

His head broke the surface not far from the shore line, where Time was sitting in his human form with Malon.

“Dad!” He shouted, struggling a bit more to keep his passenger steady as the water became more and more shallow. “Dad!”

Time looked up, noticed Twilight trailing blood, and was on his feet immediately.

He met Twilight halfway, which is when he noticed the mystery mer.

“Twilight, what,”

“I found them a ways out,” Twilight gasped out, letting Time help him carry them further onto shore. “They’re really badly hurt, and I couldn’t just leave them, so,”

“Malon!” Time shouted. “Red potions! Hurry!”

Malon nodded and ran up to the house as quickly as she could.

Time and Twilight hauled the mystery mer up onto the shoreline, though still in the water, and Twilight crawled up to the skirt that he and Time both had to pin around their hips to shift back to his human form, since clothes and mer don’t usually mix.

Twilight hurried back over as quickly as he could, stilling pinning fabric in place as he crouched down.

Fortunately it seemed like breathing straight air seemed less painful for the mystery mer, who had taken to clinging to Time’s shirt with his good hand.

Time carefully brushed back their hair, exposing the injuries on their head. Time frowned deeply.

“Can we help them?” Twilight asked, ringing his hands with worry.

“We can,” Time confirmed, and Twilight let out a full body sigh. “He’ll end up with some serious scarring, but he’ll live. What I’m more concerned about is the nature of these injuries,”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, frowning as he looked over the injuries himself.

Malon came back, three bottles of red potion in her arms as she dropped to her knees next to Time. She handed him one of the bottles.

Time nodded, mouthing ‘thank you’ to her, and opened the bottle. “Twilight, support his head,”

Twilight reached out, lifting up the mystery mer’s head so that Time could tip the bottle back and they could drink without choking.

“Dad, what did you mean about the injuries?” Twilight tried asking again once the bottle was empty and they were waiting the few seconds needed to see how well the potion worked so they could gage how many they would need.

Time frowned, but eventually pointed to the parts of the mystery mer’s tail where the fins were missing. “Here, the injuries imply his fins were sawed off by netting,”

“Netting?” Twilight asked, not really following. He knew he was rather sheltered for merfolk, since he grew up on land, but he couldn’t think why someone could end up missing fins from netting.

Time nodded gravely. “Poachers use a specific kind of netting that can cause serious injuries if you struggle too much,”

“Poachers?” Twilight echoed. He wasn’t so naive that he didn’t know people tried to poach merfolk, but poachers never got near zora controlled waters, which was where he’d found the mystery mer. “What are poachers doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Time said, popping open another bottle to offer to the injured mer.

Twilight accepted the other bottle as his mother got up to go and get more.

They spent well over an hour there, crouching in the shallows with this mystery mer as they slowly fed them red potions.

After a long while, Time declared that was enough, and they sat back.

The blood had stopped, but the entire left side of the mer was red and raw still, a collection of marks that would scar pretty badly. But they’d live.

Time sighed, letting the mer cling to his shirt with no small amount of relief.

“He’ll probably need to relearn how to swim with the missing fins, but he’ll be alright,” Time said, and both his wife and son sighed. Time looked up at Twilight. “You did good, bringing him back here. You probably saved his life,”

Twilight smiled. “I was just trying to help,” he shrugged.

“Thank you,”

Everyone froze, and let their eyes fall to the very tired mer in Time’s arms. Their voice croaked and was very quiet, but they all heard it clearly.

They all blinked at each other. Apparently no one expected them to speak a human language.

“Of course,” Twilight said softly, offering one of his hands, which the mer took with their bad hand. “I wasn’t just going to leave you there,”

They nodded, squeezing Twilight’s hand weakly and offering a smile.

“Darling,” Malon asked gently, drawing attention up to her. “Do you mind if we ask your name?”

The mer said nothing, frowning softly.

“Do you have a name?” Twilight tried. Midna had told him that not everyone in the trench had names, and he knew nothing about tropical merfolk. Maybe they had Nameless too.

“I don’t know,” the mer finally said.

“You, don’t know?” Time echoed.

“I don’t remember much,” they admitted, curling in tighter towards Time’s chest. “The last thing I can think of is floating, and then he found me,” they pointed towards Twilight.

Time and Malon shared a look.

“You don’t remember anything?” Malon asked.

They shook their head lightly.

Time and Malon shared another look, and Twilight shifted uncomfortably, bringing his hand up to join the other, just so he had something to do with them. He knew his parents did this often, speaking silently through facial expressions, but he’d never been able to figure out what they were talking about.

“You aren’t going to send me back out to sea, are you?” The mer finally asked, looking more than a bit concerned. “I, I don’t want to go back out there alone,”

“Of course not, dear,” Malon promised them, reaching out to set her hands on the one Twilight had between his own hands. “We wouldn’t do that,”

“We will need to find a way to make sure he doesn’t dry out,” Time pointed out. “We do live on land,”

“We have an extra water trough,” Malon pointed out. “We could pull it inside and fill it up until we think of something better,”

Time hummed. “Would it be big enough?”

Malon frowned at him.

“Right, my mistake,” Time coughed, covering up an amused smile.

The mer finally turned to look at Twilight, marred up face twisted in confusion.

“My mother is human,” Twilight explained carefully. “Dad and I are merrow, but since we can live on land, and mom can’t live in the sea, we live on land. We can and will bring you home, but unless you happen to be merrow then we’ll need to find a container to fill with water for you,”

“I don’t remember if I’m merrow,” the mer said quietly.

“That’s okay,” Twilight smiled. “That’s why we’re talking about options,”

The mer nodded, and curled back into Time.

“Alright,” Time sighed. “Twilight, can you carry him up to the house? I’m going to run ahead with Malon to drag a spare trough into the house to fill up for him,”

“Sure,” Twilight nodded, readjusting how he was crouched to take the mer from his father.

Both his parents stood up and headed back to the ranch, and Twilight watched them go, then turned back to the mer. The mer had wrapped their arms around his neck to hold on, and was looking between the retreating forms of Time and Malon and back to Twilight.

“You don’t have gills,” they said.

Twilight tried to look down at his neck (unsuccessfully), and shrugged. “I do, but they’re closed up right now. I don’t need them in my human form,”

“Oh,” the mer said, then nodded. “That makes sense,”

Twilight stood up, grunting as he shifted how he was holding the mer, and began slowly walking up to the house. Slowly because he didn’t want to trip at all.

Sure enough, Malon and Time had set up a horse trough in the kitchen with a small amount of water in it, towels and other soft materials lining the edge. Twilight knelt down and set the mer in it, being careful to be mindful of the still only mostly healed injuries.

The trough was just a bit too small, the mer’s tail sticking out the one end even fully sitting up.

Twilight and the mer both looked at the arrangement, taking in the cramped conditions.

“Well, this is most certainly a temporary thing,” Time sighed, holding a bucket of water in his hands and frowning at the arrangement. “I’ll call Ruto and see if any of the zora have anything that can help tomorrow,”

“That would be good,” Twilight agreed, voicing the mer’s nod.

(---)

The zora did promise to help with better accommodations, but it would take a while. So the mer spent a week and a half in a repurposed horse trough.

They took the mer back out to the shore every day, and Time and Twilight tried to help him relearn how to swim with his injuries. A zora princess, Mipha, also often attended these lessons after Time had called Ruto and gotten the zora involved. Mipha was a healer, and Ruto had made it very clear that they would be looking into poaching in their waters as that was unacceptable, and wanted to make it up to the poor victim.

This worked well, as the mer took quite a liking to Mipha, and she to him.

Of course, this was also where Twilight and Time learned just how outgoing their new family member was.

Malon called him their ‘wild child’, and after a while ‘Wild’ just became his name.

It fit, if nothing else.

Even on land, Wild continually became more and more vocal and involved in day to day life. He had been very quiet and reserved when they first brought him home, probably a side effect of his memory loss, but as he got more comfortable with them he started coming out of his shell more.

He would sometimes remember random things, and sometimes they would be sad things and others would be happy, but it was never anything big, or that they could use to find his original pod.

Wild didn’t seem to mind that much. He mentioned more than once that he was happy where he was, and was glad Twilight had found him that day in the open water.

The day he called Twilight his brother was the day that Twilight decided he wasn’t going to easily let go of Wild. This was his little brother now and Wild was part of his pod. Time didn’t argue this declaration, just told Twilight to go make sure Wild didn’t hurt himself showing off for Mipha.

Wild did not get hurt showing off for Mipha. Barely.

Wild adapted rather well to the lack of fins, and eventually was swimming just as gracefully as Twilight. Which still wasn’t very graceful, but it was effective enough that he was swimming confidently.

Which is when they spotted the boat.

It was a marine research boat, Wild recognized it but didn’t know why. Marine researchers weren’t allowed in zora controlled waters, it was one of the things they did to crack down on poachers. Hard to pose as marine researchers when marine researchers weren’t allowed in the first place.

‘We should go find Mipha,’ Twilight flashed at Wild, watching the ship warily.

Wild said nothing and didn’t move, just looking at the ship.

‘Wild,’ Twilight grabbed his arm. ‘We should go,’

Wild turned and blinked at him. ‘I know this ship,’

That sent Twilight’s heart up into his throat. He couldn’t stop himself from eying Wild’s scars, a reminder of the poaching that he’d survived.

Twilight swallowed hard, reminding himself that if this was what he was worried about then he’d need to be the one to stay calm, and tightened his grip on Wild’s arm a tiny bit. ‘We need to go,’ he flashed again, trying to press more urgency this time.

Wild shook his head. ‘I know this ship,’ he repeated.

Twilight took a deep breath, glancing up at the ship and seeing people start looking over the side of the ship. That did not calm his nerves. ‘Wild, marine researchers aren’t allowed here. And,’ he trailed off, biting his lip as he struggled and failed to avoid looking at the scars.

Wild caught on and shook his head. ‘I have a good feeling about this ship. I think it’s a good thing,’

Twilight did his best to avoid the worry and panic building in his chest. ‘They still can’t be here. These are zora waters, marine researchers aren’t allowed here. We need to go tell Mipha and Ruto,’

Wild shrugged. ‘Go then, I’ll wait here,’

‘I am not leaving here without you,’ Twilight flashed.

People on the ship were pointing now, and a small boat was being loaded to lower.

Twilight was starting to really worry now, biting his lip and trying not to squeeze Wild’s arm any harder.

‘Wild, please,’

‘You’re really freaking out, aren’t you?’ Wild asked.

Twilight nodded, not bothering to hide it with how the smaller boat had all but hit the water already. They were basically already out of time.

‘Okay,’ Wild offered him, as though he was consoling a small child, which Twilight would be offended by in any other circumstance. ‘Let’s go find Mipha and Ruto and tell them there’s a boat here that shouldn’t be,’

Twilight relaxed just a bit. ‘Thank you,’

They turned to swim off just as the person in the small boat started shouting.

“LINK!”

Twilight startled, not sure how this person knew his real name, as he’d been named after his father and so they both had nicknames. Wild, however, froze.

“LINK!”

Twilight turned to look, seeing a blonde woman with short cut hair leaning over the edge of the small boat, the arm not balancing her switching between waving and cupping her mouth when she yelled.

“LINK!”

‘Wild?’ Twilight asked, shaking his shoulder slightly.

Wild snapped out of whatever daze he was in, twisting in the water to look at the woman.

“ZELDA?!” He shouted back, bubbles erupting from his mouth.

Twilight reared back. Wild never spoke out loud when underwater. Even in the big tank the zora installed for him in their house, he either flashed or surfaced to speak to them.

It didn’t even register that Wild knew the woman’s name until after Wild was already halfway to the surface.

Twilight panicked and followed.

Twilight made it to the surface slower than Wild, and very carefully peeked his eyes above the surface.

Wild had jumped up and had his arms hooked over the side of the boat, and was laughing alongside the woman.

“Oh, and who’s this?” ‘Zelda’ asked, spotting Twilight.

Twilight sunk just a bit further in the water, narrowing his eyes warily.

“Oh! That’s my brother, Twilight!” Wild waved him over, grinning. “Twi! This is Zelda! She’s a friend of mine!”

Twilight cautiously approached, trying to hide how his heart was still ramming in his chest. He poked the rest of his head out of the water.

“Hello Twilight,” Zelda smiled. “I didn’t realize Link had any siblings,”

“Hello,” Twilight said, voice carefully kept even, which was about as polite as he could manage. “You do realize your ship is illegally traveling through zora controlled waters, right?”

Zelda blinked at him, and Wild glowered. Twilight just waited.

“Well, no,” Zelda admitted. “My father had said he’d spoken to the zora here, and that we’d be able to pass through to look for Link. He went missing a while ago, and we’ve been very worried,”

“He was lying,” Twilight informed her bluntly. “If he really had spoken to the zora then he’d know that we’d found him already, and there’s no need to look,”

Both Wild and Zelda blinked at him.

“You’re certain?” Zelda asked.

Twilight lifted an arm to gesture at Wild. “How many merfolk do you know that would match his description?”

Zelda turned to look at Wild, who in turn blinked down at himself.

“You make a very good point,” Zelda conceded.

“You should probably get your boat out of here, before you get into a lot of trouble,” Twilight advised.

“Right, a very good idea. Thank you for warning me,” Zelda smiled, and Twilight could almost believe she was sincere, but he didn’t really want to do so, just in case.

“We won’t tell anyone about it,” Wild offered, and Twilight sent him a half-hearted glare. “So you don’t need to worry about getting in trouble,”

Twilight HAD planned to tell Time and Ruto about it.

“We will need to tell them that someone had lied about speaking to them about getting permission,” Twilight reminded Wild. “That could become a big problem in the future,”

“Oh,” Wild seemed to deflate.

“We don’t need to tell them who was here though,” Twilight offered hesitantly at Wild’s dejected look, not really caring about how worried Zelda was. “We can leave the ship and it’s crew anonymous,”

“Thank you,” Zelda gasped in relief again, smiling.

Twilight shrugged. “I will need your father’s name, though. For the report,”

“Oh, uh, right,” Zelda fumbled, but did provide a name.

“You should come visit!” Wild grinned. “I’d love to introduce you to the rest of the family!”

“The rest of your family?” Zelda asked.

Wild nodded. “Yeah, mom and dad,”

Zelda frowned. “Link, didn’t you tell me your parents had died in a wreck a few years ago?”

Wild blinked. “They did?”

Twilight looked between them. “You didn’t tell her about the amnesia, did you?”

“Amnesia?”

Wild slid off the side of the boat and sunk up to his nose under the water, his hair floating like spider legs around him.

Twilight sighed. “I found him a few weeks ago floating injured in the water here. I brought him home and my parents and I healed him, which is when we learned he had no memories of anything before I found him. We brought him home with us, since we didn’t want to just leave him alone in the sea. The parents he mentioned are my parents, since we adopted him into our pod after a week or so,”

“Oh,” Zelda blinked.

“I’ve been remembering things though!” Wild piped up. “It’s how I recognized you,”

“Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Zelda smiled. “And, I’d love to visit your new family, if they’d let me,”

She and Wild both looked at Twilight.

Twilight shrugged. “Mom is human and Dad and I are merrow, so show up on land without the ship and we’d be happy to let you in. We have been trying to find Wild’s original pod,”

“Wild?” Zelda blinked.

“We didn’t know his name and he didn’t remember,” Twilight explained. “We’ve been calling him Wild,”

“Ah,” Zelda nodded. “That makes sense. Where do you live? We’ll turn the ship around and meet you over land,”

Wild happily provided her their address, and she signalled for her smaller boat to be lifted up, promising to visit over land.

They watched until the ship had fully turned and left, and then headed back home.

Wild swam up to swim in front of Twilight.

‘You won’t get her in trouble, will you?’

‘The only person I plan to get in trouble is her father,’ Twilight explained.

‘Thank you,’ Wild flashed back.

Twilight did get Zelda’s father in a lot of trouble. Ruto had blown up, and Time, despite being dimmer than a true mer, still managed to nearly blind them as he went off.

It ended with Time and Ruto swimming off, publicly and angrily plotting while off on a warpath. Time likely had the same thoughts Twilight had.

They didn’t even have time to explain that they should be expecting company.

So they surfaced, Wild slapping the water while Twilight pulled on his skirt, and then Twilight carried Wild back to the house.

They decided to start by telling Malon that they’d have company before getting to the bit about Zelda’s dad lying.

A few hours later and Time walked in, still dripping and wearing only his skirt from coming out of the water. He was cursing under his breath.

Which is when the knock on the door sounded.

Wild shot up over the top of his tank, excitedly asking if it was Zelda, which confused Time immensely. Malon went to explain, and Twilight opened the door.

Zelda was tucking a bit of hair behind one of her ears, whispering with one of the people with her when the door swung open. The talking stopped when they saw him, not unexpected considering he was a big guy made mostly of muscle before even taking in the claws or second eyelid that came from being merrow.

Three people stood around her, sheikah Twilight guessed, based on the pure white hair and reddish eyes. One of the women had a streak of red dyed in her hair, and the man had a rather absurd haircut. At least the last woman looked mostly normal. Er, at least in that sense that she was only dressed like she was some kind of ninja or something. A gerudo woman stood a few feet back, watching him closely.

Twilight just smiled, not bothering to hide his fangs since he knew Zelda was already aware he was merrow.

“Zelda! You made it! We’ve been pretty excited about you coming over,”

Zelda smiled back. “Twilight! I’m glad we got the right house. It’s a pleasure to see you,” she waved at her companions. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a few more mutual friends of Link and I’s, since we’ve all been really worried about him. This is Impa, Purah and Robbie, and that’s Urbosa back there!”

Urbosa stepped up to the porch, eying Twilight. He got the impression she maybe didn’t know he was merrow.

“So, you’re the one who found and rescued Link,” Urbosa greeted.

Twilight nodded. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he offered his hand.

Urbosa accepted, eying the claws on his hand.

“Twilight?” Malon called, appearing behind him. “Is this the friend you and Wild mentioned?”

Twilight nodded, and stepped aside, inviting them all in.

Malon greeted them happily, waving them into the living room where Wild was mostly out of his tank.

Wild slipped when he went to wave, and Time reached up calmly to catch him. Time hadn’t bothered to change, but was wearing a towel around his shoulders and was no longer dripping.

“Careful,” Time warned. “You don’t want to fall out,” he said it seriously, but there was mirth in his eye.

Wild grinned sheepishly, but without shame, and slipped back into the tank.

Zelda ran right up to the tank, craning her head up to look at Wild, her companions following her.

“Link!”

Time swiveled his head to her, looking confused, and Twilight hid his snort behind his hand. Time eyed him as well.

“Zelda!” Wild grinned. “You came!”

Zelda scoffed. “Of course I came! And, I brought more friends of ours!” She waved at the others, who all echoed their own greetings.

“Twilight,” Time said slowly. “Did you know Wild was having friends over?”

“We tried to tell you when we reported the confused marine research ship,” Twilight explained. “But you and Ruto got so mad that we couldn’t find a spot to jump in, and then you both swam off. So we came home and told Ma,”

Time nodded, eying the group. “And, you’ve learned Wild’s real name?”

“Yes,” Twilight confirmed.

“And his name is Link?”

“Yes,”

Twilight’s grin never wavered, and Time just sighed. Malon burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Impa asked, eying the group.

“Oh, I,” Malon coughed, trying to reign in her laughter enough to speak. “There’s three of you!”

Time sighed, and Twilight’s grin just grew.

“What does that mean?” Zelda asked.

“I’m Link Jr,” Twilight explained, pointing. “Dad is Link Sr,”

A few more voices join Malon’s in laughter.

Time sighed again.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” Time said, walking out of the room, flicking his towel up over his head and pointedly ignoring the rest of them.

Twilight finally broke and snorted.

The conversation went very well actually, and Urbosa relaxed quite a bit once it was explained to her what merrow were. She came from the desert, and so hadn’t ever encountered merrow before, which explained the weird looks she gave Twilight when he opened the door.

Zelda promised to visit more as well, and to bring more of their mutual friends in the future, and agreed to stay for supper when Malon offered.

“Oh, Wild,” she turned on their way out, looking a bit curious and confused. “I have a question,”

“Yeah?” Wild asked, leaning out of his tank and still grinning.

“Why are you in a tank and your brother and father aren’t?”

Wild blinked. “Because they have legs,” he said, like it was obvious.

“Well, yes,” Zelda agreed. “But, so do you,”

“What do you mean?” Wild asked.

“Wild, you do know that you’re merrow, and not mer, don’t you?”

“I’M WHAT?!?!”

#linked universe #lu #lu wild #lu twilight #lu time #malon #lu flora #mer au #injury mention #blood mention #behold! mer au fic!#i have one other thing with twi and wild #and one explaining what happened to wars #and i really need to introduce legend hyrule and four #but i'll do that later #for now there is this

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kinsurou · 4 years

Text

Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned

Pairings: Dabi x Reader

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: Smut, Incubus!Dabi, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, slight hypnosis, horror elements, sex in a church.

Ever since you were a child, something about that church always got under your skin. Being inside that old building always left a fallacious sentiment. No matter the days, months, or years that were spent performing church service with your whole family.

Every time your younger self would attempt saying something about it to an adult, they would always brush off the child pulling on the ends of their shirt with trembling hands and wobbly pouts.

In the eyes of the adults, you were just a child with plenty of imagination.

And your nana's words never helped either.

For "Nothing bad can ever linger in the house of God."

That was back when you were 18. It was the last time you mentioned anything about that eerie feeling. As well as the last time you stepped inside that church, much to your parent's disappointment.

Now...Five years later, you faced the same house where you grew up, while carrying a suitcase in hand. And a huge, resentful scowl twisting your sceptical face.

Your parents had begged you to come home for the holidays. The same parents who didn't hesitate when they turned their backs on their daughter, after she tore the rosary off her neck.

Had it not been for your nana's decaying health, you would have never come back in the first place. But the elder woman could leave this world any moment now, and she begged to see her granddaughter one more time.

Having dinner with a bunch of people who did nothing but judge your every move was detestable. From your clothes, to your hair, to your studies, everything seemed wrong in their judgemental, hypocrite eyes. It became downright awkward, when you did not keep your thoughts to yourself.

No longer were you the little girl they could carelessly brush off. But that didn't mean you were the golden child either. And frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

The only thing you wish could actually change, were the everlasting tremors you felt each time you passed by that old church. Three blocks away from your parent's home. The same church you could watch every single night, through the window of your childhood room.

Just gazing at that building was enough to feel those tremors all over again. You thought the feeling would disappear as you grew older. That maybe, just maybe, your family's words were true.

If only they knew how wrong they truly were...

That night, as you laid in bed, something bizarre happened. You were used to fall asleep at midnight, allowing the soothing melody of the crickets to lure you into a peaceful slumber.But this specific night, something was off. You had fallen asleep at the same time as always, but not to the regular, dreamless night.

But to someone calling out for you. A deep, raspy voice, kept calling your name, and although unable to comprehend the language, somehow, you could understand what it wanted.

Come to me...

The instant your eyes stirred open, a thick and heavy fog made its way deep inside your head, clouding each and every of your thoughts. Except for that urge to follow the voice.

With stupor glazed eyes and a mindless stare, you peeled the blankets off your body and rose up from the bed. No one noticed you walking to the front door, for they were all resting deeply.

Hurry...

The front door was easily opened. This neighborhood was one of the quietest and safest places around, so the need to lock the house at night was unnecessary.

Each step led you down a certain path. You were uncertain where, but that voice most certainly did, as it guided you through the dark and empty streets without much of a struggle.

Had anyone seen you outside this late at night, with an empty look in those usually bright eyes, they would have thought you were just sleepwalking and ended up outside.

Not even the aching in your feet, from stepping over sticks and stones was enough to wake you up. Whatever hold that voice had in your mind was stronger than the feeling of stone digging under your bare feet.

You couldn't even tell how much time had passed, but eventually you reached the place where this voice kept dragging you to. Away from the comfort of you plush, albeit small bed.

An old door with elegant, yet subtle carvings all over its surface, currently blocked the path that lead towards the alluring hum, demanding your presence.

With the strength of your whole body, the door opened effortlessly, allowing you to step inside.

Come.

The moment you stumbled inside, the voice calling out, had a drastic change. The most prominent of them all, was the clarity behind each and every word.

This time, you were able to understand it all.

Come closer, little one...

Once again, your legs moved on their own. Following after the strong, magnetic like feeling that kept on pulling you forwards, like a moth entranced by a radiant flame.

Something changed through your surroundings in an instant. The door slammed itself closed with a tremendous force, rattling the whole building with overwhelming magnitude.

You didn't know what did it, but that chain of events created an uproar, startling you out of that trance, and immediately dissipated the foggy sensation deeply fixated inside your head.

And once your head became clear, nothing but worry began swirling inside your head, accompanied by that very same quivers that went down your spine ever since you turned 18.

Because, you were standing right in front of an all too familiar altar, one inside the very same church that you've come to despise over the years.

Worry began brewing inside you at an exorbitant rate. That horrible sensation of something dark and hostile lurking around the corridors began increasing by the second. Bile threatening to crawl its way up your throat the more you stayed in place.

You had to leave this place, now.

Or at least that was the idea, but no matter how much you tried to open those vast doors trapping you inside, neither of them budged in the slightest. How in the world did they get locked in the first place? The priest had always made it clear that the church's doors should always remain open.

This wasn't normal, at all.

Neither this, or the sudden heath drapped over your back that sent chills down your body, could be considered normal.

"Took you long enough."

The same deep, raspy voice from before, was coming from behind, Sending chill through your body. There was no doubt in your head, that whoever kept calling out for you, and the person standing behind you, were one and the same individual.

"Why don't you turn around, so I can finally see that pretty face of yours?"

A slim hand made its way up your shoulder. Long, sharp claws toyed around with the thin strap of your tank top, making their way under the thin fabric to drag themselves over the soft skin of your shoulder.

Even if you wanted to follow said command, it was nearly impossible to do so when your whole body was frozen in fright.

Carefully, your head turned to the side, just enough to take a small glimpse of this...man? Slowly, your body turned around, and you finally saw the one responsible of bringing you here.

A man stood before you, or at least, you thought he was a human male at first. Had it not been for the long pair of horns on his head, slightly angled down before circling all the way to the back of his skull.

That was just one of the few things about him that caught your eye.

The second thing, was that despite the cold, harsh breeze inside the building, his chest was bare from any clothing, and the only thing that covered this man's psyche was a pair of black, leather pants.

Even his feet were bare, which by the way, also presented the same sharp, black claws as the ones on his hands.

But if that wasn't enough, the last thing you noticed was his scars.

Nearly his whole body was covered with charred skin, holding on to his body by the metallic stitches that retained everything together. A knot could be felt in your stomach when you saw his face.

Those very same scars and stitches, were also over the lower half of his face, and right under his eyes as well. That mesmerizing pair of teal colored eyes of his, that you could almost swear glowed in the dark, calling out for your soul.

He slowly advanced towards you with a long stride, but for every step he took forward, you took one backwards, trying to maintain as much distance between you and him as possible.

Or at least, that was the idea.

Which came crashing down when you felt that cursed door stopping you from going anywhere. He just smirked lazily when he saw the fear inside your eyes, as you turned to glare nervously at the dreaded piece of wood.

"Going somewhere, little one?" One of his hands came up to play with a lock of your hair. When his knuckles brushed against your cheek, some kind of energy racked your head momentarily. It was like an electric shock that sent your brain into a haze. Almost like an instinct, your head tried leaning towards his hand, yearning for more that feeling.

He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes. Judging by his behaviour, he felt something similar. And when he opened them again, you could have sworn his pupils had turned into slits.

"Who would have thought, that after all this time," His eyes wandered all over your body. "You would be coming back? Must be my lucky day."

The same fog that dragged you all the way here came back with force, slowly clouding all of your thoughts like it did before.

It wasn't until he leaned towards your much smaller frame, that you were able to snap out of it. Especially when you felt his breathing ghost over your neck. Blissfully inhaling your scent.

His hum of approval was all the answer you received. But his words were what made you feel real panic.

"You smell so good, so much different from other humans." One of his hands rested on your hip, just above the fabric covering your body. "You'll be a perfect vessel."

...Vessel...?

He pushed himself closer, trapping you against the door. And started kissing softly at the skin all over the side of your neck, before leaving a trail down your collarbone, causing another surge of electricity to rattle your body from head to toe.

The feeling of sharp fangs grazing your skin startled you. Frantically, your eyes went all over the place, eventually landing back on the man...no, on the creature in front of you, purring, nipping and peppering your chest with his lips.

That same feeling of dread triggered your fight or flight instincts. And with shaky arms you mustered as much of your strength, pushing the demon away with a shriek. And before he had a chance to lay his hands on you one more time, you had already escaped from him.

Even he was caught off guard by the push, staggering back with surprised eyes, that slowly became darker. Like those of a starved animal, ready to pounce on his next meal.

In the meantime, you had escaped towards the back of the church. Running away and hoping to find another way out of this damned place.

"I always knew there was something wrong about this place! But did anyone ever listen?! Noooo!" Even as a mere whisper, your voice echoed through the halls. You had to cover your mouth in order to hold back a yelp, when something was violently slammed against the walls.

Tears began filling your eyes as soon as you heard an approaching pair of footsteps. His voice kept getting louder the closer he got.

"Thought I scared you off for good. But you're a big girl now, aren't you?!"

He shouted bitterly, footsteps becoming erratic.

Somehow you managed to avoid him, and ran all the way back to one of the utility closets at the back of the halls. Carefully, you opened the first door that came into view and hid inside the small space.

Hiding between cleaning supplies was never a good idea, but you had no other choice, unless allowing this thing to slaughter you was one of them.

Teardrops became dangerously close to spill when you heard his voice getting closer. The louder his footsteps became, the longer you tried to hold in your breath from the absolute terror you felt.

"I've been watching you for a long time, y'know?" His voice was different this time, calmer, confident, but his frustration was still evident. "Ever since you turned into a grown woman. I could tell there was something different about you!"

Something was once again thrown into a wall, a loud crack could be heard from the wood of whatever he had thrown this time.

"And when you took off that fucking rosary?! I could feel it, I just knew you had something special!"

His footsteps became louder, a warning of just how close he came to your hiding spot. You've never felt this terrified in your life, watching his shadow become bigger the closer he got...But then, he just walked past the door, without even bothering to look back.

When he walked around the corner, you opened the door with care, afraid that the slightest of creaks could alert him of your presence.

And then, you dashed back towards the main entrance.

The fear rushing through your veins kept pushing you, telling you to hurry up and get out of this place. And as soon as you were out of this building you would go to your parent's house to take your stuff and never come back again. All those years you were right, but nobody bothered to listen.

Much to your dismay, the main doors didn't budge in the slightest. Out of frustration, your fist slammed against the wood, the sound echoed loudly all around the place. And your blood went cold when you heard him approaching.

Hiding in the same place as before was not an option, and in a desperate measure, you ran toward the altar at the front, pulling the cloth and crouching down to hide underneath.

It was such a small spot, that you had to pull your knees close to your chest in order to fit in. Your whole body trembled with fear. More so when his presence could be felt as soon as he came into the main halls.

"Where are you, little one? I promise you won't get hurt." The tone of his voice was not reassuring.

You may have turned your back on the church all those years ago. But in that moment, you couldn't help praying to God for your safety. So with your eyes closed and hands intertwined together. You began chanting the very same prayer, strictly inculcated in your family for generations.

Our Father,

Who art in heavan,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done on earth

as it is in Heavan

Give us this day our daily bread,

And forgive our trespasses

as we forgive those

Who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

"Amen/Amen."

Your whole body broke into a cold swear. And when you felt a cold breeze brush against your trembling body, the thought of opening your eyes made your heart pound harshly against your ribcage, so harshly, it could be heard resonating through the small space you were currently hiding in.

Slowly, slowly turning sideways. The sight in front of you drew out a blood curling scream. The pristine cloth of the altar had been pulled to the side.

And he was crouching down in front of you, with a deep, desperate hunger in those feral eyes of his, completely engulfed into nothing but pitch-black. The feral grin on his face sealing your fate in an instant.

"God can't help you now."

You were dragged out from under the altar by the ankle. Struggling, kicking, and begging for him to release you, but each and every word fell on deaf, pointed ears as his body hovered above yours, trapping you between the carpeted floor and his lean body.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear something was wrong with him. The patches of non-burned skin looked sickly pale, like he hadn't been able to eat, or sleep for a long time...Were demons able of sleep in the first place?

"Please...Don't hurt me..." He ignored your pleading whimpers, observing with half-closed eyes as you became closer to burst into tears. The moment the small, salty droplets ran down the corners of your eyes, he leaned down, and kissed them away with a softness that left you paralyzed.

No longer was he behaving as the same creature slamming pews against the walls in a fit of rage. It was almost like a switch had been flipped, and somebody completely different had taken his place.

"You really think, that I'd do something to hurt my precious vessel?" His palm caressed the side of your face. The touch of his skin was electrifying against your own, sending goosebumps through your whole body.

"I'm not going to hurt you, so just relax your pretty little body, and allow your master to take care of you."

He leaned down once again, this time whispering in your ear with that mesmerizing voice of his.

"The name's Dabi, you better remember that name when it's time to worship you master's cock." He growled eagerly into your ear.

All those year he could only watch from afar. Now that you were back, Dabi finally had you right where he wanted you.

He would not let this chance go to waste.

Once again, Dabi started out by kissing your neck, and he had to admit, those gasps were like heavenly music to his ears, as ironic as it sounded.

His black claws started to become longer, and sharper. They made quick work of your shirt, dragging themselves all over the fabric and tearing the thin cotton tank top to nothing but shreds, causing the cold air inside the church to hit your nipples with full force. Even during the hottest time of the year, the inside of the building always felt cold.

Dabi ignored your shivering. Kissing and nipping all the way down from your neck, to the skin of your chest, leaving a small trail of bites on his path. His lips reached down the plush skin of your belly. The cold inside the building could barely be felt from the warmth he made you feel.

Panic overtook your senses when his hands went to the hem of your shorts, finger hooking into the fabric as he attempted to pull them down.

"W-Wait!" You yelled out with hesitation, afraid that your words could end up with a raging demon bringing your demise. But it would probably be worse if he found out on his own, right?

"I'm not...I'm not a virgin!" He stopped immediately, and for a minute you saw your life pass before your eyes.

A low, sarcastic laughter was the only thing he answered with. When you looked at him, Dabi's shoulders were shaking, and he couldn't stop laughing.

"You think that's the only thing demons care about?" You gasped once again, when the remains of your clothes were suddenly torn to shred for the second time, leaving you completely bare to the creature kneeling before you, who took in the sight of your every curve with a famished glint in his eyes.

"Virgins are overrated. Innocence? Purity? Tch." He scoffed in mockery. "Wanna know a secret, little one? Sometimes, the people who claim to be the purest, are actually the worst of them all."

He pulled your legs apart, chest grumbling in satisfaction at the sight of your bare sex present before him. And when your hands went down to attempt covering you body, he just growled, trapping them both by the wrist. Claws digging slightly into the skin, just enough to leave small traces of pain.

"Don't you ever, hide yourself from your master." He growled, slowly releasing your hands, and when you made no other attempts to hide yourself, he retook his proper place in between those exquisite legs.

"And don't think acting all shy will let you off so easily. I can tell just by your scent, just how many people you've laid under the sheets with. I must say, you have experience."

Dabi had to say, that watching your face flushing that harshly, was a sight he'd treasure for all of his eternal life.

Dabi spent centuries trapped inside this damn church, without a single chance to satiate his hunger. Watching people come and go inside the building to confess their sins, hoping the act would save them from the hellfire awaiting for them.

He could say, this was a nice change of scenario.

"Do you need a sin for your next confessional?" The warmth of his breath fanned over your core, and the high pitched squeak coming out through parted lips did nothing but increase his appetite. "'Cause I've got a few in mind I'd like to try with you."

As ironic as it sounded, Dabi almost wanted to thank the heavens. Given that your scent was already addicting, but the moment he dived down, finally getting a taste of your body? He became addicted it.

Addicted enough, to begin devouring you with nothing but pure desperation. Drawing out a breathless moan from you. Nothing but overwhelming pleasure shot through your body from every stroke of that forked tongue against your soaked folds.

"You taste so good." He pulled away for a second, watching your eyes closed shut, the dark flush across your cheeks and the way your breathing came out in heavy puffs of air. "Even better than the finest of wines."

Your arms wouldn't stop roaming, looking for something, anything to cling on of dear life as Dabi continued lapping your glistening core, with nothing but pure vigor in those long, sensual strokes.

And you only hoped it wouldn't anger the demon when you pulled on his hair. As terrified -and aroused- as you felt, the desperation to grab on to something for dear life was stronger than self restrain.

Dabi's reaction was far from expected. His strokes became fiercer, the soft muscle pushing its way inside. Savoring the taste of those velvet walls that coated his jaw with their sweet essence.

Centuries had passed since the last time he fed, and now that he had the chance, Dabi would not let such an exquisite meal go to waste.

You couldn't understand, why did it felt so different from other times? something about the way he devoured you, was too different from your previous partners. It was so good, so addicting, and you couldn't get enough of it.

Your hips buckled against him, a warm feeling began crawling all over your body the more he kept his head in between your legs. And when his thumb went to caress your clit, that feeling began getting stronger.

"Ah!...Dabi, please...!" Your hips buckled against his face, and were quickly brought down by his hands, and a snarl that froze you in place.

"You're interrupting my meal, little one. Stay still, and maybe your master will be generous enough to let you cum."

As soon as you went quiet, Dabi continued where he left off. Each slurp just kept making even warmer on the inside. And when he pulled away to suckle on your swollen clit. It felt like an explosion, nothing but one of the sharpest bursts of pleasure ran through your lower regions, shortly followed by a loud scream and your back arching from the sweet release.

"You're such a filthy little thing." Dabi wiped his chin with the back of his hand. A satisfied grin on his face as he waited for you to regain your breath. "But this was just an appetizer. Now, get ready for the main course."

Everything around was like a blurr, the only thing you recognized was the silhouette of the demon before you. Something felt different around him. That feeling that brought terror upon you disappeared, and when you finally looked at him with clarity, something was different.

That sick complexion of his was gone. Pale skin regaining a healthy looking color, and his eyes became clear from that feral like state.

You didn't have time to ask, as he took you by the wrists, tugging you slightly without much of an effort. And positioned you both in a way, that he was laying down on the floor, while your sat down on his lap.

Looking down between your bodies -When did he take his pants off?!-, the sight of his erect member was definitely a sight to remember...

For starters, his head was modestly pointed, followed by a trail of ridges all the way to the base, and not just that...It was huge.

You may not be a virgin. But how the hell was that going to fit in?

"Like what you see?" Even his attitude had changed, now he wouldn't stop teasing, at the same time he took a hold of your hips. His hands dragged your body back and forth, grinding your lower lips against him with leisurely gestures. The friction, along with how sensitive you were from your previous orgasm, turned you into a whiny mess for the second time that night.

"I'm going to ruin you so bad. Nobody, and i mean NOBODY, will ever be able to satisfy you. Not like your master."

Slowly, he lifted up your hips, before pulling you back down, slamming his girth deep inside your throbbing cunt until the base of his length was pressing against your clit.

You screamed in bewilderment. Amazed by the way Dabi made you feel as he buried himself deeply inside of you. The way your insides stretched, adjusting themselves to his size, and the friction from every ridge of his girth was absolutely marvelous. It was like a fire consuming you from the inside. It was hot, so hot that it could burn, and you wanted more.

"What's wrong, little one?" Dabi grunted in satisfaction, loving the dazed look in your eyes from the slightest of movements. His hands guiding your hips back and forth with a quick pace. "Enjoying your master's cock?"

"Ah!...Y-Yes!...I love my master's c-cock!" You yelled out, leaning forward to rest your hands on his chest, head tilted back with pure euphoria on your face as Dabi had his way with your body.

He had to admit it, you really were perfect. And there'd be no way he'd let you walk away once he was done with you.

"Then prove it, show me how much you love to be fucked by your master! Worship his cock like your life depended on it!"

Obeying his every command, you began moving on top of him. When Dabi said he'd ruin you, he was serious. Nothing you've ever done before came remotely close to what he made you feel in that moment.

Each and every of his thrusts was powerful enough to make you see stars. With every thrust, his head brushed against the deepest corners of your sloppy insides, easily kissing your womb.

A part of you felt ashamed of your actions. You were riding a demon's cock in the very same place where your parents got married. The very same place where they baptized you.

Many sins were committed during your life, but this? This was definitely a sentence to hell.

"Oh...Oh God!" Your eyes widened in bliss, wandering all around the walls of the church. In the midst of it all, you realized Dabi had positioned you both, in a way that you sat right in front of the statue of the lord. It almost made it seem as if the lord himself, was judging your actions with nothing but a disgraceful eye.

Dabi let out one of the darkest chuckles you've ever heard. Dark enough to make every hair in your body stand.

"God won't hear you now, little one. But the devil will"

In the blink of an eye, he was sitting up. Embracing your waist with a deathly grip. His already rough pace became downright barbaric, so much that it started hurting, but it hurt so fucking good.

The feeling of another climax rattled your thoughts. Everything around you became a blur from the upcoming high. Dabi felt it, and knew he had to get it done fast, it was the perfect chance, and there was no way he would let it go to waste.

"You're getting close, little one. Aren't you?" He pulled your body closer to him, into the suffocating waves of heat. Your wrapped your own arms around his heck, and held him closer to yourself, running your nails along his scalp in the process, which made him purr in enjoyment.

For a minute, you could have sworn you saw something akin to a blue flame coming to life around him. "Do it my pet, come for your master. And lend your soul to me."

His mouth latched on your neck, tongue running circles around the soft skin, looking for a certain spot. And when he found just the right place, his fangs bit down harshly. Right at the same time your climax overtook your senses.

All you could do was scream as you felt him tear on the skin with those sharp fangs of his. A warm, sticky sensation ran down your shoulder all the way to your chest. Followed by a scorching pain.

The smell of copper and smoke became intoxicating as Dabi's body trembled, and then he let out an earth shaking roar as he came. Filling your womb with rope after rope of scalding, hot cum.

Exhaustion took over your limp, shaking body. As much as you tried to move, even attempting to lift a finger was considered impossible.

Dabi planted a small, tender kiss on the spot where he sunk his fangs less than a minute ago. During that time, your sweat covered bodies clung to eachother's, still yearning for much craved contact, all while trying to catch your breath.

When he pulled away, Dabi admired his work as the bite he left on your neck glowed brightly, before dying down and leaving behind a beautiful, burgundy mark.

Finally, after so many years trapped in this goddamn place, he finally had a vessel. Now, he could leave once and for all.

Dabi carefully pulled away, watching his seed run down your shaky legs with every little throb of that delicious, little hole of yours. If claiming a vessel wasn't that draining to begin with, he'd definitely fuck you again.

"You, are perfect." He carried your passed out self in his arms. Taking you all the way to one of the pews, where he laid you down softly on the wooden surface. One of his hands brushed a loose strand of hair back into its proper place. "I'll see you soon, little one."

Taking one last look at his sleeping vessel, Dabi turned on his feet and walked to the church's entrance. As soon as he got closer, the door opened gracefully on its own.

For the first time in centuries, he was finally able to leave his prison. And with a deep breath of relief and a serene smile, Dabi walked away from the church, disappearing into the dark depths of the night.

......

"...W...up....Wa...ke...Wake up.." Someone kept calling out your name.

Slowly, your eyelids stirred open, and the first thing you saw was a black cassock coming into view, accompanied by the worried face of a middle-aged man you've known since childhood.

What was father August doing in your room?

"Thank god, you're finally awake. What are you doing sleeping in the church?"

Wait...Church?

Your eyes widened in an instant. Father August's words made the memories from last night come back abruptly. The voice, being locked inside the church....And Dabi.

You got up from the pew where you had fallen asleep, and looked around frantically before looking down at your body. All of your clothes were unscathed. But you could have sworn they were torn to nothing but rags after Dabi tore them apart with those big, black claws of his.

Dabi...Where was he?

Thinking about him made you realize something. For the first time, the church no longer felt cold. It had a warm, welcoming feeling to it. Had this sensation been here all those years ago, you'd probably still be on good terms with your family.

"Are you feeling unwell? You seem pale."

"Y-Yeah..." You looked all around the church. The pews that had been slammed into the wall, broken into pieces, were good as new. And the altar at the front, where its cloth had been carelessly thrown to the side when Dabi found you hiding, was also untouched.

"Was it just a dream?" You asked to yourself. Remembering everything the demon did to you, yet not a single part of your body felt sore. In fact, you felt better than ever. So full of energy.

"What are you talking about? Are you having night terrors again?"

Oh shit, Father August was still here.

"N-No! Everything's fine, father!" You reassured the older man that stood straight in front of you. "I must have sleep walked all the way here! Remember I used to do that when I was a kid? ahahaha..."

No way you would tell him about what happened last night....If it ever happened in the first place.

He was kind enough to walk you home. To say your parents were worried was putting it lightly. They were terrified when your mother went to wake you up and found the bed empty. It was strange, watching how worried they were about you, when they never bothered to call you for a long time.

A tired sigh left your lips once you finally went inside your bedroom. It was barely morning and the whole house was already in chaos.

"Right, today we're going to see Grandma." The suitcase was pulled on top of the mattress with ease. Good thing you preferred to travel lightly. "Better get changed now."

From the small arrangement of clothes, you picked out a white sundress. Then you pulled out the hair dryer as well and turned back to the mirror so you could fix the bird nest in your head, also called hair.

When you saw th reflection in the mirror, your whole body became stiff.

There was a strange mark on your neck. A deep shade of burgundy adorned your skin in the shape of a small flame, running down all the way to the collarbone...Right in the spot where he bit you last night.

The dryer fell out of your hands with a loud clank as you stood in front of the mirror, watching this...thing on your neck with pure horror.Why didn't anyone say anything when you came in with this mark covering a good portion of your skin?!

Your thoughts were interrupted when your mother barged inside the room with a worried look on her face. And you were quick to cover the mark before she could see it.

"What happened? I heard something falling?" She looked at you in worry.

"N-Nothing! The dryer just slipped from my hands!" But she wasn't satisfied by that answer, and squinted in disdain when she saw the way you hid from her prying eyes.

"What are you hiding? Don't tell me you actually got that tattoo?!" She approached with an angry pace to take a closer look at your neck.

"I told you, it's nothing!" But she didn't listen, pulling your hand away from your neck by force. Your eyes closed shut, expecting her to start yelling just like that time you got your ears pierced again.

"Why are you grabbing your neck? Does it hurt?"

"You can't see it?" You asked quietly. But she just gave you a look.

"See what?"

So...they couldn't see the mark on your neck?

..........

Three weeks later, you finally came back to your precious apartment, away from your family, and that cursed church. But also away from an answer.

What happened that night? Did something even happen at all? Or was it just your brain playing tricks on you?

Groaning in frustration, you decided to forget about everything and kept walking back home, carrying a bunch of groceries to restock the fridge. Besides, tonight was Taco Tuesday, and you were eager to start preparing your meal.

When you got inside the building's main hall, you could see the landlord talking with someone at the lobby, but their back was facing you, so at the moment, it was impossible to see their face.

The moment the old lady saw you walk inside, her face lit up with joy as she waved at you, and made a gesture to come closer.

"Good afternoon dear! How did your little visit go?" She was always a curious woman, but never meant it in a bad way. There was nobody in the apartment complex who didn't love Miss Yuki.

"Good afternoon Yuki! And well, you already know how it went. It's always the same after all..." You grumbled, not really feeling like going into detail about what happened.

Then you turned sideways to see her guest. A dark haired male just stood there, watching the interaction between the older woman and you with a lazy smile.

He was wearing a pair of ripped, dark jeans. Black military boots, and a white T-shirt underneath a leather jacket. One of his most prominent features was those teal eyes of his.

Somehow....He seemed familiar.

"Oh how rude of me! My memory's not what it used to be!" Yuki clapped her hands together, embarrassed that she just ignored her guest in favor of talking to you.

"This is Touya! He just moved into the apartment right next to yours! I was just about to take him to his new home, but I need to take Mochi to the vet. Would you please be a darling and show him the way for me?"

"Ah, that naughty cat? again?" You laughed sarcastically. That cat of hers always seemed to get into trouble for something. "Don't worry Yuki, I'll take him off your hands!"

"You're such a sweetie! Now, here are your keys, Touya. Please let us know if there's anything you need help with!" She handed Touya the set of keys, and swiftly walked inside her home.

Turning back to Touya, you greeted him with a sheepish smile, ignoring the burning sensation at the side of your neck.

"So, I guess we're neighbors. Welcome to out little community. Just let me put this in my fridge and I'll give you a tour!"

"Ah, yeah. Thank you for the help." ...Even his voice was familiar.

You walked together to the second floor. On the way there, Touya mentioned how her was starting anew. Away from everything, and everyone. In a way, he was just like you.

"Well, this is my place!" You beamed, juggling with the set of keys and the bags in had. Touya had offered to help, but you refused. After you finally unlocked the door with a victorious hum, you pushed it open with your hips, walked inside and turned back to face your new neighbor.

Who's face, for some reason, became dead serious the moment you looked him in the eye.

"Please come in. I'll prepare some coffe!" As cheerful as you were. The smile slowly, slowly disappeared when you saw the way Touya was staring at you.

There was a dangerous smirk on his face, and an all to familiar glint in his eyes...

He quickly stepped forward, and stood in front of you with a proximity, that allowed you to feel the heat of his whole body. He trapped your chin in between his fingers, and licked his lips with an evident hunger in those blue orbs.

"W-What are you doing?" The nerves were such, that you didn't notice when the bags of groceries fell from your hands, and the carton of milk spilling all over the floor, creating a puddle besides your feet.

"Remember what I told you last time?" From the corner of your eye, you could see those same horns from that night, slowly starting to come out. Your heart pounded against your chest. And the burning sensation in your neck became unbearable the moment his eyes became engulfed in black.

"I told you I'd see you again...Little one."

With those last words, your door was quickly slammed shut.

@hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime @fanfic-me-up @natsuosfairy @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro

#mha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #dabi smut #bnha dabi #bnha smut #mha smut #touya smut #dabi is touya #dabi x reader

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

Hey! If your still taking prompts I would love one where the season 1 crew finds out about Mr. Spider. Any scenario is awesome, but if you need ideas- Jon having a panic attack over a spider, or maybe one of the others losing it on Jon over his skepticism and Jon just breaks down, maybe he snaps at Martin particularly hard for a lecture on spiders when it’s a Bad Day. Anyway, thanks, and no pressure! Writing is hardTM

Hi there! I actually tried to incorporate as many of the bits from your prompt as I could- you’ll have to tell me if I succeeded. Hope you like! :)

Jon’s never had his own office before. Just a desk or a cubicle, a study carrel where he could bury his head in a book and avoid prying eyes. But now he has an office- surprisingly spacious, cluttered as it is. It’s nice for privacy. But it has its drawbacks- specifically, a very mundane one.

People knock.

It’s common courtesy, of course. It is polite to knock. Martin’s is tentative, three soft raps against the door. Tim’s is a booming ‘Shave and a Haircut,’ irritating and playful.

Sasha’s is a brisk knock knock. No time or gesture wasted. Just knock knock. Simple, unassuming. It shouldn’t bother anyone.

After one week, Jon starts leaving his door open. It’s easier.

Today Martin peers around the doorway, a brief nod in Jon’s direction as he lifts his head from the statement on his desk. No smile, no question of how he’s doing. I deserve that, Jon supposes. Yesterday, he’d caught the tail end of Martin’s mumbling about his ‘ridiculous skepticism’ to Tim and promptly blew up, spitting insults over his research methods and incompetence. It was not his finest hour. By the end of it, Martin looked rightfully hurt and upset, and Tim just shook his head in disappointment as Jon barricaded himself in his office, this time closing the door.

Still, Martin brings him tea. Jon doesn’t know what to do with the feeling that stirs in him.

He moves softly, trying to make as little noise as possible as he sets the steaming mug down on the corner of his desk. Jon turns to him, ready to at least provide a thank you and a half-hearted apology when he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

A spider.

Just sitting there, staring at him from its perch inches away from the mug. The basement’s littered with them, unsurprisingly. Still, he can’t stifle the yelp of fear and disgust that tears its way out of his throat. His hands automatically grab at the nearest weapon - a particularly heavy tome- and his arms rear back, ready to strike. He isn’t expecting a strong hand to wrap around his forearm, stopping him in place.

It’s Martin’s hand. He knows it’s Martin’s hand. But that desperate, childish part of his mind that he tries to keep locked away is screaming black-spindly-leg- spider, it’s a spider, it’s a spider-

“Don’t touch me!” It’s a screech, louder than he meant it to be as he wrenches his arm out of the grip, chair hitting the wall with the force of the motion. Martin’s talking and Jon can barely hear because the spider is there, just sitting and staring and watching-

“I’m sorry! You shouldn’t kill it, though. I’ll bring it outside. C’mere.” Martin’s coaxing the thing into his hand, like it’s not monstrous, like it’s fine. “See? Nothing to worry about!”

Nothing to worry about, Martin says. It’s hard to reconcile that with the tightness in his chest, the quickening breaths that don’t seem to get him much air at all. Martin’s giving him a concerned look, edging closer as if to comfort him but that thing’s still in his hand, why is it still in his hand? He flinches, barely aware of the litany he’s muttering under his breath- please please don’t touch me.

There’s more people in the room, now. When did Sasha and Tim arrive? Why are they looking at him? Martin’s mouth moves but Jon hears nothing, just watches with wild eyes as Sasha ushers him out of the room as soon as she sees the spider. But he can still feel it’s crawling legs all over- light now, not strong. Just a teasing torment. He itches at his skin, fingernails digging into the worn sweater as if trying to reach bone. Tim’s moving forward, hands out as if he means to touch- can’t he hear what Jon’s saying? Why won’t they listen?

“...not going to touch you, I promise. But you have to breathe slower...going to pass out.”

He tries to focus on Tim’s breathing, the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest barely visible through his blackening vision. Tim nods encouragingly and Jon’s heartbeat lowers incrementally as he’s finally able to get a few deep breaths in, labored as they are. He doesn’t know how long they sit there for.

“Good job, boss.” Tim’s smiling but really, there’s nothing to smile about. All Jon feels now is a bone-deep exhaustion; he doesn’t even have the energy to summon embarrassment. He nods at Tim’s hands when they finally approach, letting himself be pulled to his feet though Tim takes most of his weight.

“There’s a cot in the back of document storage,” Martin’s back, worry clear in his voice. The spider’s gone. Maybe Sasha killed it after Martin let it go. She didn’t like them much either. “Might be more comfortable back there.”

“He’s got a cot here, really?” Tim’s voice isn’t directed at him. “We’re going to have a talk about that.” It’s like he’s not in the room. It’s nice, in a detached sort of way. Jon’s not one for talking right now.

“I’m sorry,” Martin’s apologizing to him, or maybe around him. He doesn’t like causing scenes, Jon thinks. “I didn’t realize it was that bad, or I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine,” Sasha’s saying from behind him. “It’s not like Jon comes with a user manual. We learned that the hard way.”

“Just maybe let him kill the spiders from now on,” Tim says as he deposits Jon on the cot, frowning at his refusal to lie down. He doesn’t need a nap, just a short rest. He might close his eyes. He hasn’t decided yet.

Martin’s still talking. “...And that fight, yesterday. I shouldn’t have said those things, set him off-”

“They were true, and Jon was being awful to you. You know his moods-”

Jon wants to interrupt. Wants to tell Martin he’s sorry, that he shouldn’t have yelled. That he didn’t mean (most of) those things he said, that being called out on his dismissals makes him feel even smaller. That's how he copes, by lashing out and sniping. What comes out instead is slurred, and altogether more revealing than he would have liked.

“I read a book, once.”

Tim pauses on his way out the door, presumably to get Jon water or a granola bar or something else he didn’t need. “What was that, boss?”

“A book.” His voice gets louder, and Martin and Sasha go silent. It’s nice when they listen. Jon goes on. “I was eight or so, I don’t know. It was a stupid, childish thing, but it was horrible. A-” he stops here, pauses to take another shaky breath “-A Guest for Mr. Spider. From the library of-”

“Jurgen Leitner.” Sasha finishes, staring at him with unblinking, curious eyes. She loves a good story, nosy thing she is. Jon likes that about her when it comes to research, and not other things. He nods.

“It felt wrong. Violent. I hated it. You would’ve too, if you saw it.” If Martin read it, Jon wonders, briefly, maybe he would hate them too. “And it wasn’t just a book. It should have been- should have been just a stupid, scary little story about a spider and a fly. But it wasn’t.” He doesn’t want to say the specific words. Doesn’t want to speak the book back into existence, as if the very mention would make it manifest. “He was real, in the end. Mr. Spider. He was real, but he didn’t get me. He got- he got someone else.”

Jon doesn’t cry. He thinks he should, but he doesn’t. “I’ve forgotten his name, you know? The one he took. I don’t think I could place him in a crowd, not even if I tried. Not that I could. He’s dead, has to be. He wasn’t a nice person- a bully, really. But he was just a kid. A kid who had the unfortunate luck to have met me.”

He feels oddly calm, even as his three assistants stare on in horror (and fascination, in Sasha’s case. There’s a strange tightness in Tim’s face that Jon can’t quite figure out). He turns his gaze to Martin, because he’s not done yet. He needs him to know why. “The statements, the tapes- I-I don’t know where to begin. It’s like I’m not even talking. It’s like living it. And I can’t do anything about it.” Martin’s face softens to something like sympathy, but he still doesn’t understand. “The follow-up- those are my words. They’re the only words I have control over.” Words have meaning. Words have power. Jon read a monster into existence and it devoured someone whole. What else will he do, given the chance? Given the right words? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Martin doesn’t say anything. Jon doesn’t blame him- whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn’t Jon’s childhood trauma. He’s probably revealed too much.

“That’s…” It’s Tim who’s speaking, his tone unreadable as he draws a hand across his face in sudden exhaustion. “Okay. Take a break, boss. A nap or something. You look like you’re going to collapse.” Jon feels it. “We can talk later. About... all of this. It’s uh, good to know, though. Thanks- thanks for telling us.” The words seem genuine, although his face is oddly hard and serious. Jon nods, finally allowing his eyes to close as he leans into the lumpy, uncomfortable mattress. Someone draws a blanket over him, but he doesn’t know who.

“Sorry. I’ll, ah, kill the spiders from now on. Just in case they’re the bad ones, yeah?”

Martin, then.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700379

#prompts #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james #good ol' mr. spider #cw panic attacks #back on my 'what if they all talked' train #Anonymous

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palaceofpassion · 3 years

Text

Breaking Ren Ch. 2

Not for the light of hearted!

Warnings, forced feminization, spanking, mean spirited talk.

“MMMmmm♥ You’re amaaazing~” “Oooh Jaune~!♥”

“Mmmph~ Not Nearly as MMmph~ Amazing as you Pyr~”

CREEK CREEK CREEK

As the light of day peered into the room of team JNPR, two bodies rocked back and forth. Hands held together as their lips met one another. The leader knight and his beloved champion paused, their hearts filled with love and warmth as they peered into one another’s eyes.

With every consecutive thrust, every time their lips met little pecks here and there, his heart swooned. He really was lucky to have her, he’d make sure to never take her for granted.

Pyrrha watched the boy of her dreams, the one who hadn’t known who she was, the one that helped her belong and made her feel loved. There were few who understood just how wonderful he was, and honestly at this point? They were just missing out.

“Mmmm~ OooOH Jaune~ I’m so close♥” She felt his fingers lace and lock with hers, through his palms she felt his pulse, felt his breath, they were in sync as one.

“MMmm me too Pyr, I’m almost there~” The two continued to move, their hips bucking in rhythm with one another. Their bodies rocked and jerked in unison. Both of them felt the powerful burning sensation at the pit of their cores.

“OOoOOH!” Together they came, Pyr’s pussy quivered, her juices squirting from her core. Jaune’s cock twitched, pulsed and convulsed as his cum erupted. Both of them groaned as the felt their respective orgasms hit a fever pitch, relaxing as they finally came to a conclusion.

“I love you Jaune~ I love you so much~ You’ve brought me so much joy, more than any other person has ever done~ Because of you I’m not alone, I’m not someone's idol, I’m just yours.”

“Pyr~ I feel the same way, I owe you my life. You’ve been there for me, when no one else was, when I didn’t believe in myself you did. I love you so much.” Once more the two lovers pressed forward, their lips meeting, a passionate kiss was shared between them.

Only to be interrupted by the stifled sobs of the individual on the bed next to theirs. Nora had nearly broken down, her mouth gagged with Jaune’s used underwear, her arms bound by powerful dust controlled cuffs meant to hold her in place. She sobbed as she watched her teammates, two people she thought were friends, currently use the love of her life as if he was nothing but a toy.

Her eyes clenched tightly, the last week had been hell for her and Lian. While she did her best to hold on, Lian had almost completely stopped, he didn’t fight or struggle but he didn’t give into their demands. He simply used his semblance to mute himself. Even now he did his best to hold on, his anus filled with Jaune’s thick seed, a constant occurrence nowadays. His face was currently buried in Pyrrha’s ass, forced to pleasure her as she and Jaune shared an intimate moment.

“Nora… stay quiet, you’re ruining this…” Jaune turned to her, a part of him hurt, watching his normally bubbly teammate so down. But she had to learn, he needed to train her, and using Lian was the best way. “You just keep there, looking pretty okay? Enjoy my boxers, after all, it’s the only taste of a real man you’ll ever get.” He released a low hearty chuckle, followed by Pyrrha’s sweet giggle.

“It’s not all that bad Nora, Jaune’s got an excellent taste~” Her voice was low and husky, her eyes glancing back to her beloved who gave her an appreciative look.

Before they could get back to it, the alarm went off. Both eyes turned towards the Alarm, ah it was about time to get ready. “Right well… time this day started.”

“Awww~ Okay. You get a shower first okay?” Jaune smiled and nodded, pulling out of Lian.

PLOP

A thick glob of cum oozed out of his constant gaping ass, “Well I’ll go get Lian ready too then~ Someones gotta get him looking pretty for the day, and I’m obviously the prettiest one here~” Pyrrha rolled her eyes at her beloved’s sarcasm, though… he wasn’t wrong. Hopping off of their gasping toy she took the time to appreciate Lian’s new look. Apparently Jaune’s cum was something intense, Lian had somehow become even more feminine lately. His waist had slimed, his muscles had begun to diminish, and his face had become smoother, more round.

Pyrrha watched as Jaune tugged on Lian’s collar, pulling the leash they had gotten for specific in dorm use. They weren’t quite ready to make Lian’s treatment public just yet.

As the boys entered the bathroom; Pyrrha turned her attention to Nora. She moved towards her smaller friend, removing Jaune’s boxers. “There we go~”

“W...h...y?” Pyr watched as Nora began to sob, her eyes red from her fresh and old tears.

“Why what dear Nora?” Tilting her head she gave Nora a questioning look. “Why Lian’s being punished in your place?”

“He’s not Lian! He’s Ren! My Renny!” Pyrrha simply shook he head as she gently stroked the ginger’s hair.

“No, that’s not right Nora. You had your chance, Jaune gave you so many to just behave. But you spat on his good will. And well, Lian let you get away with everything, so as Jaune’s said, Lian had to be punished.”

The two paused as loud grunts and thumps started to go through the bathroom. “Oh my~ Jaune just can’t help himself, he’s got such vigor~♥”

“Whyyyyyy....” Nora struggled against her restraints, “I… I thought… I thought we were friends.” She felt gentle arms wrap around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Oh Nora~ Of course we’re friends~ Just now… now Lian’s our toy too. You have to understand, it’s her place, and she’ll be happy once she realizes that. Besides~ you two would have never worked out.”

Nora felt fear as Pyr continued to stroke her hair, where had the kind Pyrrha gone? Why were they doing this! She didn’t want them to treat her so badly, she missed her old team!

“Don’t worry~ I’m sure Jaune will let you join one day, you’ll be our pretty little toy too~ You’ll get to have his babies! Oh it’ll be so wonderful!~”

Fear seized Nora, she didn’t want that! She wanted Ren’s children!

“Come on, let’s get you ready~.” She felt a gentle kiss against her chee as Pyrrha stopped restraining her with her semblance. The old Nora would have jumped at the chance, but she was just so tired, she hadn’t been sleeping and she was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

She followed Pyrrha as the boys finally came into the dorm. Ren was once again dressed up in a girls uniform… one that they had made for him. It fit his new curves well, his hair was tied to the side again, and his slim face was far more appealing. Nora hated herself, she realized how good Ren looked as a lady. She glanced at Ren’s skirt, knowing full well that Ren was going commando, Jaune didn’t allow Ren to wear underwear in the case he needed a nice quickie.

Though… to her confusion she noticed jaune hadn’t been wearing clothes. His cock free and hard still, he watched as he grabbed Pyrrha and her by the hands pulling her in. “Hey Lian! We’ll be back in a while, going to show Nora what a man can do.” Fear, absolute fear filled her heart as she stared at Ren, whose face was filled with terror, and hurt. But she watched as he used his semblance to mute his emotions, he wasn’t going to help her…

Ren was doing his best! It’d been so hard since they started mistreating him, they’d been using him as their personal toy for all their twisted pleasures. He wasn’t even sure if they’d had sex yet and were just using him. He hadn’t given in, he wouldn’t, but as he watched Nora get dragged away, powerless to fight against his situation he felt his heart sink. No… they couldn’t take Nora from him, she was the last thing keeping him together. He felt his semblance activate automatically, a form of defense he’d been using recently. His heart broke as he watched her teary eyed expression.

The door closed with a loud thump, he felt fear in his hearts as loud moans filled the bathroom. Crawling to his bed he moved into a fetal position, he hadn’t broken yet and he definitely wouldn’t now. But he still felt hot tears flowing from his eyes.

Nora’s breathing became ragged, her pulse erratic and her skin began to crawl. She was currently pinned between Jaune and Pyrrha, both of which were much taller than her. Her face was buried between Pyr’s impressive bust. Though, what scared her was the thick rod that was currently resting in the cleft of her ass. She felt it pulse, heat radiating from the meaty shaft, panic filled her as she tried to cry only to realize there were no more tears.

“Don’t worry Nora~ You’ll love this.” She felt Jaune’s hands at her hips, his cock repositioning itself in the gap between her thighs. She felt his hips move.

“No please… please Jaune, I want Ren to be my first, pleeeease.”

“Now Nora~ You know Lian can’t give it to you, she’s just not big enough. But me?” She felt heat between her thighs, something was prodding at her entrance, her outer lips splitting apart. “Me I can give it to you, all of it.” She felt his voice, hot against her ear, he pulled back and her grip on Pyrrha tightened as she prepared herself.

Instead of something piercing her though, she felt the veiny rod slide across her quivering pussy. The head bumping and rubbing against her clit, shivers of pleasure and disgust went through her body.

“Mmm~ You feel so good Pyr~” She felt the two above her move, pressing her against them tighter as they began to kiss. They were using her but not using her, this was horrible. Was this how Ren felt?

She did her best to stifle her moans, but everytime Jaune quickened, his pace becoming rapid, she lost a little of her resistance. By the end she was moaning loudly, her body betraying her as she felt Pyrrha’s lips against her neck, biting down on her. Jaune’s hands had moved grabbing and plying at her ample bust.

Being the least experienced of the trio she orgasmed first, it so happened to be the strongest one she’d ever had. “MMMOOOOOOOOOH GAWWWWD!♥” Shame filled her body as she wailed loudly, but even then Jaune didn’t give up, his thrusts constantly sending pleasure through her body even as she went limp.

This continued for a few more minutes, she’d lost count as her mind blanked, she was so tired.

By the end of it, she was on her knees covered in Jaune’s thick seed, afraid that it’d scald her flesh. Her orange hair was covered in white, and her face was drenched in his scent. She hated it, she hated it so much! She wanted Renny, she wanted her Renny to hold her. This was absolutely awful. ♥

She felt Jaune draw closer to her, “Heh~ Don’t worry, I’ll let Lian take one thing from you at least.” Joy, that was good! Ya… they still cared right? She was just tired, but she wasn’t broken. She wouldn’t break, not ever, a defiant flame rising in her heart. She’d save her Renny, and they’d be away from these two monsters.

She felt their hands all over her body as they washed her, toyed with her, prepared her for the day.

As the trio came out of the shower Jaune watched Ren bowled over on Nora’s bed, his body was completely grey, obviously from his semblance use.

Making his way over, Jaune raised his hand, giving it a good SLAP , this caused Lian to come to attention.

Ren’s eyes glanced over to Nora, his fears seemingly confirmed as he noticed how exhausted she was. So they did it… they’d taken Nora’s first. He felt another part of him crumble.

“Alright, enough moping, come on let’s get going.” He felt Jaune pull on him, forcing him to his feat. He followed mutely behind Jaune, though he noticed Pyrrha specifically kept him away from Nora.

As the four members of JNPR began to exit the dorm, they ran into the members of RWBY. Ruby had been having trouble keeping the rest of her pets under control, Weiss, Yang and Blake had all become more defiant, and it was obvious she was tired.

“Hey Rubes, you alright?” He could hear the sounds of faint buzzing, at least they hadn’t rioted just yet, but it looked like she could use some help.

“Yeah, just tired, these three are such a pain to handle.” Ruby paused as she stared back to Jaune, “Hey Jaune?”

“Ya Rubes?”

Jaune noticed Ruby’s hands which began to twirl around one another, “Can you… can you help me train them?”

Jaune cocked an eye as he looked at his meek friend, he noticed the dash of red on her cheeks. Pyrrha noticed it as well, a grin on her face as she elbowed her lover. “Ya, ya we’ll help you. Might as well get our pets tamed right.”

“Tamed?! Pets?! You indignant bastard, what do you think we are!?” Jaune didn’t say anything instead turning to Ruby, even as Blake drew closer, he noticed the scowls that on Weiss and Yang as well.

Turning to Ruby he patiently asked, “Ruby? Do I have permission to discipline your pets?”

“PETS YOU BA…”

Blake was cut off by Ruby’s fervent nodding. “Yes please! They’re so terrible!”

The remaining members of team RWBY looked at their leader, shock apparent in their eyes.

“Like this idiot could even…” Weiss was quickly silenced however.

SLAP SLAP

Both her and Blake stared at Jaune, each holding onto a different cheek. “Both of you will be QUIET! Do you understand me?”

Yang was about to say something, step forward when she felt the vibrator in her pussy strengthen. Pyrrha had felt it earlier, their little toys had been made of metal, something Ruby had probably done intentionally as she was currently smiling at Pyrrha. “UHHGGGG YOU BASAAASTARD!”

Jaune made haste, grabbing Yang by the hair and pulling her close, “You will be quiet, do you understand me?” If he had been paying attention to his beloved and his red headed friend, he would have noticed their faces turning crimson at his domineering tone.

“Let me Go you BASTARD!” She was about to strike him when she was suddenly pulled into an Armlock, Pyrrha had moved already pinning Yang to the ground, applying pressure to her back. “OW OW OW STOP PLEAsE!” Aura was great, but it wasn’t so great when it came to being held.

As for Blake, she’d barely been coming through from her shock, though that ended once she felt Jaune’s hands against her ears, her faunus ones. Fear filled her chest as the ribbon that hid her ears was stripped off. “You… you will show your real ears, you’re just a pet, not a person.” She was about to say something else when she heard a click. Turning to Ruby, she had noticed she was recording this.

“Ru...ruby?”

“Sorry Blake, but you’ve caused us the most trouble, you need this. Now be a good girl.” Blake was about to say something else when she felt Jaune’s hands at her waist, underneath her skirt. Pulling down she felt him strip her panties off, with a tug he simply tore them from her posh rear.

“Pet’s don’t need their underwear. Pyr?”

“Yes?”

“Take Yang’s.” Yang began to panic as Pyrrha wasted no time tearing her pure white panties from her plump bottom.

Blake was about to pounce on Jaune once more when she felt the vibrator’s power increase, turning to Ruby she saw her with the remote in hand. Strength left her as she used the wall to balance herself, before she could compose herself once more.

SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP

She felt four powerful slaps across her bare ass, “AYEEEE!” They were hard and painful, strong enough to draw tears from her eyes.

“You, will, listen.” She whimpered softly as she nodded her head. Jaune pocketed both her panties and the ribbon.

Turning to Weiss he saw her freeze, before he could do anything she gave up. She’d never been hit before, and honestly she had mixed feelings. On one hand it hurt, on the other though… “I’ll… I’ll get them myself.”

Jaune watched as she slipped her panties off, a pleasant white color. Weiss flinched as Jaune’s hand came close to her face again. “Good girl…” She felt his hand rub against her cheek, scratching her gently. She nodded.

“Well we have to go to class, I doubt this will keep them calm, but when everything’s done with the day we’ll get to training our pets okay Ruby?”

Rubbing a streak of red from her nose she nodded. “Good let’s get going.”

And the group followed behind, Jaune, Ruby, and Pyrrha leading the way. Weiss, Ren, and Nora just behind them, and Blake and Yang behind them. Only four people seemed to be in a semi good mood that morning.

Glynda smiled as she watched her students pile out of her class. After her previous talk with Mr. Arc and Ms. Rose, their teams have been rather well behaved. With that said, she wasn’t blind, she’d seen the changes in their teams demeanor. From Miss Nikos sparklingly face, to Miss Valkyries downcast demeanor. The way that Xiaolong and Belladonna seemed unable to stay still, to Schnee’s oddly pleasant look. Though, what caught her attention was Ren’s change in clothing and continence. She hadn’t been the only one to notice, as she’d seen several boys, and even some girls eyeing the young man. Well young woman it seemed, she wasn’t one to judge. Though, she had a feeling that the change hadn’t been one of their own choosing.

She watched as the leaders of both teams seemed to hold themselves a little higher, their teams muting whenever they received their glances. A small smile touched her lips, so they had taken her talk about discipline seriously.

As the day came to end she noticed only Rose, Xiaolong, Arc, and Valkyrie stayed.

“You two know what to say.” It was Arc who spoke these words.

Glynda watched as Xiaolong and Valkyrie approached her, Xiaolong seemed angry but muted. Whereas Valkyrie seemed emotionally tired.

“We’re Sorry Ma’am.” Oooh~ This was pleasant.

“I see… well so long as you learned your lesson.” Both girls nodded and waited.

“Alright! Let’s get going!” Ms Rose was the one to take command this time, the two girls nodded and followed her out.

“Actually~ Mr. Arc, Ms. Rose can you stay behind?” Both students stared at each other in confusion, though they relented and sent their teammates on ahead.

“I’ve noticed the change in your teammates. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on.”

She watched as her young pupils froze, fear obvious in their face.

“Now now, I’m not going to scold you, in fact. Good job.”

“E...excuse me?” It was Mr. Arc who broke the silence.

“You’re doing exactly what needs to be done, both of you have done praise worthy work. Though… it seems that you’re still ‘training’ your teammates.”

Once again the students paused, Rose was the one that answered next.

“Yes… ma’am… Jaune’s going to help me ‘discipline’ my team a bit more. They’re still a little unruly.”

Glynda nodded, she knew how difficult it must be for the younger girl to keep her team under control. With a smile she pulled out a receipt.

“Here you go, this is for both of you. I noticed the changes early on but I wanted to make sure first. This is from a special shop of mine, consider it a gift for outstanding leadership.” Both students looked at the tag, it was for a domination shop in Vale, TIED A KNOT .

“Ma’am?” Both students looked at the professor.

“These… things happen from time to time. Professors tend to give gifts to their favored students.” She smiled as she made her way back to her desk.

“The expenses have been covered, you just need to pick up the products~”

Both students nodded as they made their way out.

Jaune didn’t know how to feel right now, he had expected to be scolded, to be shamed, but instead their professor had given them the okay. Apparently their hands off approach extended even this far. Turning to Ruby he saw the girl practically vibrating, a smile on her face. Instinctively he placed a hand on her head, giving her a gentle pet. He felt her lean into his touch, a smile on her face.

“This is so exciting Jaune!” He agreed.

“Yeah… yeah it is. My team will go and get the supplies, do you mind bringing your team to our dorm? Get them ready?”

“Sounds good!” He watched as the read reaper burst into a flurry of petals, grabbing her three teammates on the way out.

“What was that about?” Smiling at his beloved he held the receipt out, grasping it Pyrrha let out a small gasp.

“Seems we have permission.” Placing his hands behind his back he began to walk out, “We should get going, no need to change our uniforms will do just fine.”

Pyrrha frantically nodded as she began to practically skip after him. Without a word both Nora and Lian followed. Lian was forced to stand on Jaune’s right, while Nora was on Pyrrha’s left hand.

“I suppose~ We’ll be making this official soon.” Jaune’s hand slipped past Lian’s skirt, lifting it so he could give her a good squeeze. He felt Lian flinch under his touch, his cock twitched in his pants.

Strange things had been happening recently, Velvet had noticed a change in her friends from the year below. She’d seen Jaune and Pyrrha become closer, finally they’d gotten that across it seemed. But she’d seen the change in their teammates, Ren had started to dress like a girl, and Nora wasn’t as peppy. She wasn’t sure what was going on but something had to be, though there was another thing. As a Faunus she had a heightened sense of smell. And lately she's been smelling something addictive coming from the four. Specifically from Jaune, Ren, and Pyrrha, rather she could smell Jaune on both his teammates. She’d seen the way he seemed to take complete control of Ren, how he was holding and domineering him.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was exciting, and she wanted to know more. Her eyes trailed downwards as Jaune’s hand moved to Ren’s lower section, she almost gasped in surprise when she realized the other boy wasn’t wearing any underwear. Even more so when she noticed Jaune squeezing, his finger sliding in between the cleft of Ren’s ass.

Continuing her spying she found them at a well known Bondage shop, TIED A KNOT. This confused her, but she continued to watch, unnoticed so far. As they left the store she pursued once more, finally stopping when they took a detour down a dark alleyway. Silently she followed, her ears picking up on movement, muffled voices, and something else.

“Shit~ You’re so tight Lian, you wanted this didn’t you?” Vel felt a million emotions at once, fear, lust, jealousy, arousal, but more importantly, the urge to join in. Before her eyes Jaune Arc the dorky leader of JNPR, was currently smashing into Lie Ren’s ass, the rather pretty boy who no longer looked like a boy. No she saw a woman, nay a slut, one that was currently pinned against the brick wall of a building, their ass sticking out. She watched as Jaune’s pe… no his massive cock! Slammed in and out of Ren… no Lian’s plump ass. Their bodies bucking back and forth in sync. Her eyes gazed away briefly, Pyrrha was recording everything, a smile on her face, her tongue flicking between her lips from time to time.

She wasn’t sure where Nora was, at least not at first. Glancing back at the boys, she noticed Nora below Lian, Jaune’s hands were actually on her hips holding her close as he continued to thrust into what was once her boyfriend. She could hear her soft sobs, as if she’d lot something precious.

Normally Vel should have stopped this, she should have gone in there and made sure that none of this happened. But there was a part of her who watched this in awe, she felt desires she’d never experienced before, ones that were lightning an unknown flame in her belly. Before anyone would notice her she left, her direction back to TIED A KNOT.

Ren felt humiliation, he did his best not to show it, not to give them satisfaction. But even with his semblance it was hard to ignore the looks he was getting. He knew why though, he could feel it too, every step he took more would slide down his legs. Jaune’s semen which dripped from his ass had started to leak out as they made their way back to the dorm.

He felt even worse when he realized he couldn’t see Nora’s expression, was she ashamed of him? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that things weren’t going to end any time soon.

When the team got to their dorm they found Ruby already waiting outside, her teammates nowhere to be found. “There you guys are!” Dashing towards them she stopped just ahead of Jaune, handing his scroll back to him.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this!”

“No problem Rubes. I’m assuming the girls are inside?”

“Yep!”

“Alright let’s get going.” Pushing open the door he smiled at what awaited them. All three girls were currently stripped of their clothes, bound and gagged with their own underwear it seemed. “Nice touch on the gag.”

“Thanks! I figured they wouldn’t be needing them anymore so might as well make use of it.

“Ooh! That’s creative Ruby.” The red heads stared at each other, giving one another a warm smile.

As everyone filed into the room Jaune began to strip, EVERYONE’S attention was drawn to him. Even those that had already seen him nude before. He’d grown a lot since coming to beacon, not quite on the level of Sun, but he had muscles that begot his loose clothing. Then there was the other thing, the other members of JNPR had seen it before, but for RWBY? This was a first, different emotions went through the girls. Yang was one of unbelief, Blake was one of an odd sense of fear, Weiss while unsure of herself felt something she couldn’t quite touch on, Ruby? Ruby felt an intense thirst enter her body, she wanted some of that.

“Right then, let’s get started. Lian, strip.” All eyes turned to Lian, who did their best not to look at anyone. Slowly she took off her clothes, revealing that she too wasn’t wearing underwear. But to the surprise of the members of RWBY, he also wore a small cock cage, one made by Pyrrha.

The girls felt pity for him, but that didn’t last long as they realized similar fate’s would befall them.

Jaune grabbed the bags from Nora, tossing them onto his bed he began to fish through them. 5 collars were retrieved, each with a tag, and different animal symbols. A mix between cats and dogs, “These are gifts from Goodwitch. From now on you five are officially recognized as our pet’s and bitches.”

Blake tried to interject again, but her underwear prevented her from doing so. Jaune simply turned to her and grabbed her by the hair dragging her to Nora’s bed. Even as she struggled she couldn’t find the strength to fully fight back. “Ruby.”

“Yes?” She asked, her face red and excited. “I’m going to start with this little bitch. Is that okay?”

Ruby nodded enthusiastically, she failed to see the sorrow in Yang’s eyes.

Removing the gag from Blakes Mouth he pinned her to the bed. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” SLAP Once more he struck her face.

“I told you to shut up Blake.”

She still held her defiant look, “YOU BASTARD WHO CARES! I’M NOT A FUCKING ANIMAL! DON’T YOU DARE PUT TH…” SLAP SLAP

“I don’t like using violence, I hate it even, I won’t punch you, but you need discipline.” Turning to Ruby he smiled, “Ruby can you hold her down for me?”

The younger girl nodded eagerly. In a flash she was sitting on top of Blake who struggled under the weight unable to breath.

“See, it wasn’t just these collars, no~ Goodwitch ordered us some more.” From the bag he pulled two things, one was an anal plug with a black cat tail. “This one was for Blake apparently.” The second item? It was a studded paddle, “And this is for anyone who misbehaves, I suppose Blake gets to test both those out.

Blake couldn’t see what was going on, she could barely breathe, but she wouldn’t let these bastards do what they wanted! She wasn’t an animal, he was a proud Faunus, not some… some human bitch! Before she could really get defiant though she felt Ruby hop off of her. Her eyes widened as she saw Jaune with the paddle in hand.

“Here you go Ruby~” He handled the paddle to Ruby, her eyes practically going.

“Can… can I really go first?”

“Of course! She’s yours after all~” It was Pyrrha who spoke up.

“Ruby… please no?” She couldn’t believe how excited her teammate was.

“Sorry Blake, but you’ve been a bad girl. And you need to be punished.” A chill fell down her spine, in a flurry she tried to get up and run, but she was grabbed by Jaune. She felt his hands on her shoulders. In a flash she soon found herself face first on the bed, a hand held onto the back of her head.

“Alright Ruby, give her a few good swings.”

A few good swings meant way more than just that. Blake’s eyes clenched as she felt the paddle hit her ass.

SMACK

It wasn’t once or twice, it was over and over. Blake lost count, her mind numbing from the pain she was going through, her ass red and on fire from being hit over and over. She blanked out not too long after.

“Well shit… she couldn't even last five minutes.” It was Pyrrha, a sinister smile upon her lips.

Ruby smiled, attaching the black collar with a cat’s paw onto Blake’s unmoving body.

Yang was at a total loss! What was going on?! WHY WAS HER SISTER DOING THIS! WHY WAS PYRRHA?! WHY?! She felt her heart shatter when Blake stopped moving. She didn’t want them to do this to her, no please make it stop. She wanted to shout and yell, but before she could she was interrupted.

“Master, mistresses?” All eyes, including Jaune, Ruby’s, and Pyrrha’s all fell upon Weiss in shock.

“Weiss?” It was Ruby who spoke first, surprised the heiress had managed to remove the gag on her own.

“I’ve… I’ve been a bad girl, can you… can you please discipline me?” Well now that was surprising.

“Yes.” It was Jaune who spoke first. “Yes we can… though seeing as you’re being a good girl.” He paused and brought Pyrrha down on the bed, having her sit. “You’ll get the honor of having Pyrrha spank you with her bare hand.”

Weiss' eyes lit up, she was getting special treatment! “Yes please! But… but can you spank me later too?” Her eyes were needy, hungry, so much so Jaune couldn’t help but smile.

“Sure, so long as you keep being a good pet okay?” She nodded slowly.

Yang couldn’t believe her ears, this wasn’t the same Weiss she knew!

Weiss made her way over to Pyrrha, who couldn’t contain her joy, there was more to just being a dom in this situation. Pyrrha hated Weiss, she hated her so much. Not just because she had held Jaune’s attention for so long, no it was more than that. She hated the way that she used her position to leverage and berate Jaune when they first met. She hated how she often used her own position to trample on those she thought ‘lower’ than her. Then there was the way that she tried to use Pyrrha early on, she’d heard the whispers after that, that they could end up as a power couple. Her and Weiss? Yeah right, she’d rather be incinerated than let that happen.

As she felt the flat girl below her she couldn’t help but feel excitement, “You know Weiss~ I hate you.”

SLAP!

Pyrrha’s hand came down upon Weiss’ smooth pale bottom. “I hated how you treated Jaune!”

SLAP!

A soft whimper escaped Weiss lips as tears formed at the edges of her eyes. “I HATED HOW HE LOOKED AT YOU!” Jaune felt guilt at this one, he really was an idiot.

SLAP!

More tears formed, Weiss ass began to turn red. “I HATED THE WAY YOU LORDED MY POSITION, NOT YOURS OVER HIM WHEN WE MET!”

SLAP!

Her slaps became heavier, faster, stronger. “I HATED THE WAY YOU TRIED TO USE ME! YET HAD THE GAL TO THINK HE WAS DOING THE SAME, YOU LITTLE HYPOCRITICAL BITCH!”

SLAP “I’M” SLAP “I’M SO” SLAP “SORRRRRY!” SLAP “I’VE BEEN A BITCH!” SLAP!

“That you have Weiss, but that’s okay, cause now you’re our good little pet, our little bitch, isn’t that right?”

Weiss shivered at Pyrrha’s soft touch, the way she rubbed her reddened rump. “Yes… yesss I have mistress, I’ll be good~”

“Good girl~” Slowly Pyrrha pulled Weiss back, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. Her eyes glanced towards Jaune’s twitching cock. “I see someone liked that~”

“Shit that was hot… how could I not?”

Giggling Pyrrha began to gently lay Weiss down on the bed. “You’ll get your chance to have fun with her too, but she’s still new at this and pretty tired I think.” Weiss though exhausted had a rather stupid smile on her face. Pyrrha slipped her collar on, one with a small fox paw.

“Now then… your turn, you stupid cow.” It was Jaune, grabbing onto Yang’s hair he flopped her onto his bed, back against the sheets. He saw the panic in her eyes, she wasn’t defiant any longer. For people like Yang hitting her friends was the best method of breaking her. Slowly his hands traisted her toned belly, his fingers slipping up to her breasts. His fingers pinched and twisted her perky nipples, “You’re just a huge slut aren’t you? Look at these milk bags, you’re only as good as a milk cow you know that?”

Yang wanted to fight, but she was so scared, fear had gripped her heart and the once brave girls were gone. “Glynda got us some toys for you too~” She felt Jaune move, the sound of a paper bag ruffled. She watched as he pulled out what appeared to be two rings, with small weights dragging off of them. But then it hit her, those rings had needles.

“Noooo” She muffled through her gag, fear starting to reach every bit of her.

“Pyr, Rubes?”

“Yes~” Both answered in a singsong voice.

“Hold the cow down for me please.”

“Of course!”

“Yes!”

Yang felt her body held down from her sides. The air was soon knocked out of her lungs as she felt Jaune sit on top of her chest, his entire weight upon her body. She flinched, a heavy thick musk filled her nose. His massive cock lay just below her chin, resting between her breasts. She had already thought it was huge before, but now? Now it was terrifying, if that entered her, it’d break her… maybe that wasn’t so bad? Maybe… maybe she didn’t need Blake?

“Now… this is going to hurt.” Her attention snapped back to him, but she couldn't find his hands. Then it happened, an intense and sharp pain shot through her right breast, unable to clearly see she still knew what happened. The needle pierced her nipple droplets of blood slid down her breast. “There we go~”

She squirmed under his weight unable to move, though a heat formed in her core, her pussy began to moisten.

She struggled under his touch, feeling him pull on the ring once it was in place. “Mmm~♥” She hadn’t meant to moan into her panties, but it happened.

“Wow… what a freaking slut.” It was Ruby, Ruby! “I can’t believe we’re related… Bet you’re mom was the same way.” Yang wanted to cry, but she wasn’t given the chance as her other nipple was pierced, once more pain and now pleasure burned through her body. She nearly blanked out like Blake had, once more Jaune pulled.

“Now don't be that way Ruby~ You can’t fight your blood sometimes, let Yang be a slut, it’s all good.” She felt his breath near her ear, “Don’t worry though~ I’ll be your daddy.” Her heart thumped in her chest, he did remind her of her dad… Why did she think that?! “You won’t be needing Blake anymore.”

Panic filled her chest, but then she felt him pull on her rings, pain filling her body, she blanked out as she began to pee in fear and pain.

The trio got off of the broken mess of a girl, turning back to Nora and Ren, Nora by this point had stripped as she felt they’d want her to. They had done almost nothing to her, not in comparison to the others.

“Now then you two…” He paused smiling, however, he was interrupted at a knock on the door. “Huh… put a pin on that.” Slowly he opened the door, on his face peering through, it was Velvet who seemed oddly anxious.

“Hey Vel. Whats up?” Velvet could smell sweat and fluids from her side, oh god did she come at a good time?!

“Uhm… uhm. Hey Jaune.” She smiled at him, Velvet was definitely cute, “I… can I join?”

“J...Join?” Before he could ask more, he was presented with a collar, a brown one with a bunny rabbit on it. A smile began to cross his face.

“Please?”

“Yes… yes you can.” Opening the door wide, Velvet couldn’t contain her excitement, a huge smile on her face as she looked at the stunned faces of Ren and Nora, or the broken bodies of WBY. Her tongue slipped past her lips as she walked in. “Welcome my dear bunny.”

“Thank you master~” Jaune closed the door behind them.

The night was going to be so much fun~ Good thing he had the camera set up in his room, it’d make recording all of this so much easier. As Velvet walked towards the bed he gave her ass a good firm slap, squeezing her tight rear, his fingers slipping through her underwear.

“Mmm~♥” Her cheeks flushed red, his cock twitched in excitement, though he wasn’t the only one. He watched Pyrrha and Ruby eyed Velvet, lust and hunger obvious in their countenance. He wasn’t the only one looking forward to the next few hours.

#Lie Ren #Pyrrha Nikos #Nora Valkyrie #Jaune Arc #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Yang Xiao Long #Blake Belladonna

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐲/𝐧) 𝐱 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!!!

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞

Being a university kiddo isn't a joke you're one of it's victim and how insensitive it will sound but you worked as paparazzi because you were literally going homeless.

One buzzy night when Harry was just having a light environment get together with four of his friends in his London's home you were practically managing your bum on his kitchen's windows deck which was providing you the clear view of them just chillin' out.

You felt bad. A horrible person who goes on invadilating people's life but you've a contract of one more month and they need random ass photos of celebrities specifically Harry, else they'll conduct your money for which you worked late nights three months prior.

Your hands shook and you were about to tumble back into his garden many times because Harry had a great loving role in your life, you've been admiring him for years and this's completely out of your line. And you know he has a bodyguard who's monstrously taller than you and wouldn't take a second to kick you into jail.

An idiolising smile quirked up your lips seeing him in good mood sipping on his margaritas and you sigh debating whether you should do it or not.

You muttered a "fuck it" before snapping purposedly blurry photos and you were about to carefully jump down when your feet went into wrong place.

You tried to hold in your shriek when you rolled over the sink counter first then onto the floor, the fall was so painful it made you saw stars but you didn't cry even though they were fighting to spill out.

Everyone's head snapped at the chaos and Harry abruptly stood up striding towards the kitchen.

With the help of dining chair you were on your feet with a groan and you've a bleeding lip too. Harry's angry voice boomed through the walls, "What the actual fuck!?" He tilts his head towards you questioningly and you wrap yourself in your arms shrinking at his fierceness.

Now tears slipping down your cheeks like a never ending waterfall and you tried not to hiccup, sob or whimper.

"Who the hell are ya?" He's pissed. His friends remained quite watching the scenario from the living room and he's kinda feeling remorseful because a dainty girl in flared denims and a 𝙵.𝚁.𝙸.𝙴.𝙽.𝙳.𝚂 tee-shirt with blazing red embarrassed cheeks soaked with innocent tears, her protecting herself just from her arms from Harry as if he'll hurt her and lip bleeding so badly Harry was about to rush her to his washroom to clean it up.

But all in the end he kept his guard strong. Because this's from many times his privacy was being invalidated.

"I-m's...m'so sorry, Harry." You hiccuped in between your breaths and He arches his brows for if you got any further explanation for your actions.

"I'm not gonna lie to you. I was capturing your pictures sneakily from this window and w-when I was bout to go, slipped." He kind of found it cute how you said 'slipped' at the end but he let it go, before he would've said another thing you continued hastily.

"I just hate doing this. Hate invadilating people's privacy but I really really need money...you know..." You sob out gesticulating with your hands and everyone including Harry felt broken for you, "...I never wanted to do this. Never took single one of you since I've started this pathetic job and when I asked them that I want to leave they told me I can't until next month." At this Harry sighed loudly combing his hair back taking your arm and making your shaking body sit at the chair.

You couldn't stop sobbing. You feel so fuckin' pathetic you want to just kill yourself at the moment because everything's crashing down onto you just when you were infront of Harry Styles after sneaking on him, "Th-they told me that they need your pictures specifically else they'd conduct my money from previous." Harry pinches his bottom lip listening to you with full attention, his gaze a bit concerned.

"That's very disgustin' of them." He spats bitterly new-profound hatred for agencies enveloping him, "m..I'm so sorry. I'll delete 'em right infront of you." Your brought your camera infront of him with trembling hands but he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you.

"S'okay. I don't care, jus' have 'em and throw it to their faces." You shook your head and Harry's amused how caring you're for him even though you guys have never met, now he feels bad for shouting at you "no, please my morals will eat me alive. Can't do this to you." rubbing the back of your nose and in doing so you irritated your lips fingers getting all bloody. You didn't noticed you were bleeding until at the moment and your eyes widened. You hate blood it makes your nerves crawl.

"Oh my goodness." You gasp horrifically fingers vigorously trembling as you raised them to look at them clearly, your skin drained paler and Harry quickly stood up taking you with him to sink.

"S'okay, we all do mistakes sometimes. But you need it right now....can you duck down a little??" He asks you at the end while talking to you to divert your mind from the gor imaginations you were having in your brain.

He cups the water from running faucet bringing it to your lips cleaning your mouth with gentle rub of his soothing palms. His hands are calloused soft like cotton candy that tingles when it fuses on your tongue.

"I know what you're doin' isn't one of your very proud job but I can help you. Just take these pictures and ask me fo' more if they send you again until they set you free." He again makes you sit at the chair and you've calmed down better from before.

"S'not a big deal fo' me it's jus' pictures. I get annoyed when they're taken without m'permission." One his friends bought him a bottle of vaseline and he 'thanked' them before dipping his index inside the petroleum jelly, smudging it over your lips. You hissed at a certain nib and he gently shushed you, "Thank you Harry." You whispered bottom lip wobbling and he scrunched his nose at your cuteness.

"I really thought your tall bodyguard will drag me to jail." At first he thought you weren't serious but the frown and long stare of yours to his orange polished nails caused his heart to crack into pieces.

The thought of you getting scared like this multiple times, getting shouted and cursed at by celebrities, sometimes getting injured like this incident made him well...sad for you.

He stroked the back of your knuckles which are bruised too. He chuckled coarsely through his regret trying to lift the mood, "now..m'not that of a monster." He drawled out eyes flickering all over your head playfully which's lowered into shame.

You sniffled giggling through your tears standing up quickly, "I-should probably go. sorry once again...I'll try my best not to ever disturb you again." You bowed a little in an apologising way and Harry wanted to ask you to have a glass of milk to soothe the sting of your lip. He kinda wanted you to clash to him at sometimes again once he was out of his haze at what just happened.

"No problem, stay safe darlin'." He smiles at you and you at him this time he escorted you out through his main door. All his friends had a good laugh at what just happened; a girl almost breaking her bones in Harry's kitchen and him shouting at her only to scold her at the end to be careful when you sneak inside someone's house.

"Heyyyy." He throws his head annoyed when his friends found his timidness funny, "she was a nice lady, jus' little trapped into her situation."

The next week you were on his door this time knocking, one more guy waiting for you to bring Harry's pictures at the backstreet.

"Heya!" He was extra chirpy today no-wonder he had an album coming, "sorry." You muttered raising the camera that he would look at it clearly he got it what you want and grinned at you ushering you inside.

"S'alright. What do you wan' me to do?" You giggled when he made different postures one like an english girl, hand on his hip, arse in air and arm above his head enthusiastically.

"Not any of that, they should look random."

"Okay then. Move to m'garden." With a small hand on your waist he guided you to the same garden you sneaked in his house that day, "just pretend like you're doing something script-y type you know. You've an album comin' right?" He nods shushing his butterflies when you used your own words like 'script-y'.

He rushed to grab his journal sitting on stool pretending like he's writing something on it and both of you guffawed out breathily when your camera's snaps echoed, "perfect. Thank you Harry." You walked back inside and he was shining like a chime under lilac sun.

"Can I hug you?" You asked for his permission and he slinged his arm around you hugging you close to him. He was in love with your scent. It's roses and fresh water as if you bathed in rosy milk.

"Have a cup of tea, with me?" He asked you politely but you smiled, "another time. that piggy assistant of my agency is waiting for me at the backstreet."

"Didn't wanted him to know your address." You muttered swaying from one feet to another and Harry's eyes widened in amusement. He again hugged you taking you a bit by surprise but you wrapped your arms around his neck tipping on your toes for the proper embrace.

To that day and this you're his best friend more than that too living with him in his house because you just moved out from uni's dormetary and there was no good place to live so he offered you to live with him until.

It's been an YEAR now you're living along him because even though none of you wants to deny it you both kinda got addicted to eachother's presence and now it's hard to let go.

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒.

He drags you to his friend's parties even though you feel so out of them. You remember when one time he practically threw you over his shoulder and in his car to a party at Kendall's house.

You were fuming for two reasons. First you were litreally in your pyjamas and bunny slip-ons, second Kendall recognized you and said in that mock tone "are you the same paparazzi girl that tripped while sneaking on me, right?" Harry was...well he didn't liked it at all. You're his bestfriend that he's wishing to keep for lifetime and he knows that phase of your life was the dying need of yours.

You weren't angry neither did you hide it. You nodded at her with sheer embarrassment in your eyes and you didn't had to tell Harry before he was taking both of you into his car driving home.

"Wish I could just remove that part of my life." You murmured sitting crossed legs on the wine rugged floor and Harry's head perked up at that while he handed you the glass of milk and cookies taking you in his lap.

"We all have that part in our life, don't care." You squished your face in the crook of his neck while he stroked your hair cooing softly into your ear, "moppet don't be sad, m'sorry. S'my fault." He kisses your head with little pecks and you giggled when he purposedly fanned his breath under your earlobe where you're most ticklish.

"Wanna play poker?" He pulls you and you bobbed your head.

He always do this. Always knows how to lift up your mood when the work load's sometimes too much. You guys give eachother's massages even though yours used to be so brutal but he didn't even said a word until one day you offered Sarah one and she squealed in a hiss.

He laughed it off as you looked at him horrified that you never cared if the massage was okay, blowing hits at him while he asked Jeff to stop you only to kiss your forehead when you pouted at him.

Both of you've feelings for eachother. Hardcore one but you refuse to let them out too scared to ruin what you've.

You guys fart in eachother's presence and take a piss with open doors. You guys are that close. When you're sprawled onto his bed without any conscious because he fucked you mercilessly last night and if the next morning you get periods making a whole damn map of Antarctica onto his white sheets he just wakes up gently not to startle you, sits you on couch for a moment quickly changes his sheets and tells you that he has brought pads, chocolates and teas for you hands you your panties ushering you inside the washroom.

You're so thankful for him. For his presence. His care for you and you just wants to return it, so you do in the form of endless cuddles at night, drunk deep talks at the rooftop, three kisses in total because he likes no more less than three before going to sleep. Making sure his coffee's perfectly brewed in the morning and you guys have enough maple syrup for his likeness.

You sometimes knits him cute balled shape gloves and bakes cookies for him, sometimes brings him dinner while you're with your girlfriends.

You guys are so domestic and in love but with friends tag that none of you've figured your feelings out.

You brought a date at home once. Drunkly kissing that guy but it was all ruined when that guy broke Harry's vase that you gifted him once. It woke Harry up and he wasn't even tiny bit of pleased with your swollen lips, watery eyes and black dress showing excessively more than he wanted.

The guy was litreally shocked to see Harry Styles walking out of one of the rooms and excused himself from you as if he saw the ghost.

He sternly arched his brow while you fumbled with your rings which are his's btw, there was a whole lecture of how you went to clubbing with your girls and came back with some random cheap guy, that you shouldn't drink so much because you forget how to function and that how sickly he was worried for you but you didn't picked his phone.

But when you opened your mouth for a good excuse he raised his index in the air shushing you like a daddy would do, "not under my roof, y/n" then when you complained you're a person too and desires sex. He grabbed your jaw smashing his lips on yours in a fervent kiss and fucked you raw against the leather wall of his living room with your dress still on.

From that day you're friends with extra benefits anyone could ask for.

Today he's out with his boys for a football match. You were watching friends reruns, your stuff toy under your armpit and the bowl full of popcorns in your lap. Everything was running when you drifted to deep sleep on the couch only to be woken up again due to loud impatient knocks.

Harry at the door shifting from one leg to another tucking his jeans down from over his crotch and you yawned loudly, "Harry? game's ov-" but you were cut off when grabbed your neck thumb under your ear and tilted his chin to kiss you deeply.

"So, fuckin' hard..." He hissed against your lips in urgency shutting the door with his feet and scurrying both of you to couch, "please pretty girl suck me off, want that so bad." He whined requesting nicely and you sighed rubbing sleep from your eyes.

"Okay then you owe me a breakfast in morning." He bobbed his head taking your hand to make you sit in between his legs, "anythin' fo' m'darlin'." He hissed grunting at the end throwing his head back on the cushions and your lips quirked up.

"Sure you went to watch football not porn?" You unzipped his fly and he raised his hips kissing your lips wetly, "what got my tarzan so rock hard, hmm?" You mumbled against his lips sucking at his bottom lip yanking his black jeans down till his ankles.

"You, please you." He whimpered when you palmed his visible prodding bulge through his boxers and the blush crept up your cheeks at his blabbering.

Sitting crossed-legs in between his open wide legs you stroked the inside of his thighs and he bucked his hips grinding his bulge agaisnt your face.

His thick member hit his lower abdomen when you fred it from his boxers, you raised a little elbows digging into his thighs tucking your nose under his eternity to lick his balls fondling with them.

"Oh fuck!" You pinned his hips down lazily taking your previous position, he's heavy and thick in your palm as you pumped him through lazy strokes.

You're extra clumsy when you wake up from sleep so your hands shook. the crown of his cock nudging your lips and chin making him moan out loud and he clenched his fingers from avoiding to just grab your cheeks and fuck your mouth.

"Yes. Pet daddy's little petal just take me, yeah?" He pushed your hair back making an eye contact with you and nodded you licked his head that sent him grunting.

You put your chin on his thigh near his knee looking at him with doe eyes admiring him when he was fully inside your mouth, "takes me so well, fuck." His hands maneuvered into your hair other lacing with yours ontop of his other thigh.

He pinched his eyes when you drooled all over his cock cheeks going shallow as you tried to suck some of your saliva down, you're lazy and in no mood to do some work so you murmured against his cock while tugging it furiously.

"Fuck my mouth daddy." You didn't had to say twice when he fisted your hair around his palm putting you in your place and fucking your mouth with speedy snaps of his hips.

"So fuckin' sloppy. Love it when ye' give me sloppy filthy heads." You hummed around him gagging when he pushed his cock to your throat pulling back to stroke him over your tongue when he saw your teary eyes, "hmm. not gonna last." His tummy with ferns rippled with ecastasy and you patted his thigh to give you access to his balls.

Your drool was tricking down till his base so you smudged it massaging his heavy blue balls getting his little whimpers in return and a "fuck baby. fuck me, please." You kept on fondling with his balls and the soft skin of his thighs palming his pelvis.

"Gonna cum in your mouth." You squeezed his hand eyelashes fluttering while he writhed under you and the last thrust of him inside your mouth caused him to fill your mouth with his cum.

With a whine he pulled out from your mouth and your eyes glinted as you straddled up his lap cradling his soft baby face in your hands. Moaning when he kissed you how lovers do, after that it was all sloppy you kissing him and you riding him throwing your head back giving him opportunity to splash blues on your throat to mark you his's.

"Oh daddy." You whimpered as he stretched his palm over your arched back your pelvis slapping his in an erotic noise. He was smiling at you litreally a genuine one.

He loves you so much. He knows you love him and he has thought of confessing it to you many times but he's scared to ruin what you've already have too precious.

"C'mon baby that's it, yeah there?" He circled your clitoris in pleasuring motions whispering in your ear, "use daddy." You moaned out sweetly holding his shoulders and before you know you hit the deep end of your pleasure in waves and kept on cumming while he kept on fucking you to your high.

"Ah!" You gasped alluringly when you came another time thrashing into his hold that he had to grasp the nape of your neck from falling back resting your temples against eachother.

"I-" 𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. But he gulped his words back pecking your lips, "Is my baby sleepy?" He pouts at you pawing at your hips and you hummed letting your head fall onto his chest.

He slept in your bed that night after taking care of you, he didn't blinked taking in your afterglow, stroking the apple of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles, pecking your lips featherly murmuring sweet nothings he doesn't have guts to say to you when you are awake.

You all invited Harry's friends to have a breakfast at your guys home. Your living room was crowding with laughters and giggly chats as you flipped pancakes.

Everyone's head snapped at someone particular stepping inside the living room, they all smiled at her and she hugged Harry almost kissing him on his lips. You were busy inside reminiscing another story of you to Sarah of you playing poker with Harry and him loosing to you treating you with your favourite chocolates.

One of your friends came inside with pity eyes and when you questioned her with the the tilt of your head she shook her head smiling at you.

Your beaming grin vanished when your eyes fell over Harry with his arm slinged over a women with blonde hair and fuckin' beautiful you could've ever imagined.

"Meet y/n my bestfriend. We live together." He told her proudly and her smiled wavered into frustrated one.

"Hi." You greeted her shyly ignoring the fact you're hurting so bad, "c'mon have a seat." You ushered her gulping the cobweb of tears when she took your seat one beside Harry but you shrugged it off sitting along Mitch.

You gathered everyone here with the thought of you maybe sharing the idea that you should move out but now it's decided that you indeed's moving out. This's your jealousy and hurt all in one decision.

"Guys..." You cleared your throat voice as if nothing's happening to you replacing the haze in your irirses with playfullness.

When you got everyone's attention you announced "I'm moving out." making Harry choke on his waffles, "no the fuck you're not." He grunted as the girl he brought with him made him sip his water.

"We need to talk." He spoke curtly and everyone looked at both of you with curiosity. They all want you to be together so bad.

"Harry-" You hissed when he dragged you inside the kitchen like a child you pouted your lower lip craning your head not to look at him, "what the fuck you're talkin' you never discussed it before hand with me?"

"I think it's time for me to move out." You whispered bottom lip wobbling and he's connecting dots on your hasty decision, "not when I exist." He said smugly trapping you between the counter and him.

"Does it matter? Go back to your girl." You muttered pinching your nose and he stepped back looking at you as if you grew two heads.

He laughed loudly holding his sides bending and slamming the counter. "What." You murmured and he pointed at you shutting his eyes tight.

"You're jealous." You quickly smacked his arm saying in high pitch, "no. I'm not!!" You squealed surprisingly when he grabbed you harshly and everyone's ears outside perked up either thinking you guys are fighting or fucking.

He cupped your cheeks kissing you with amiablity that only lovers hold for eachother, murmuring with a whine inside your mouth with each nibble "but baby you're my girl."

You looked at him accusingly and he scrunches his nose at how adorable you're looking being angry at him, "you're always gonna be my baby even the mother of my babies." You scoffed not knowing if he's joking with you.

His eyes hooded with affection and he again cupped your neck tilting your chin to his level by his thumbs, "m'serious y/n. I love you so fuckin' much." You gasped loudly which was caught by his parted lips.

"You do?" You're feeling like it's a dream. "I do very much." He pecked your lips again and again making you sob at the same counter you sobbed when you first had him.

"I love you too." Harry's heart forget to breath when he heard those words in your sweetness and he pushed you closer to him murmuring in your hair, "say it again."

"I love you. Love you. Love you. Love-" But you were cut off when he kissed you deeply with a whine never letting you go.

He explained you that the new guest's just one of his friend's friends she forced them to hang out even though they protested and with him tucking you under his armpit you both stepped outside of kitchen.

"We're together." You announced loudly and all of the people at table rolled their eyes.

"You guys were from litreally two years." They teased you but after that showered you in hugs and kisses.

Life's good with Harry.

#harry styles blurb #cute harry #harry styles #imagines #bestfriend to lover #hsh #love #fluff #harry styles angst #angst with a happy ending #oneshots #harry angst #harry fluff #harry cute

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aglassmenagerieofallergies · 3 years

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Rant about Mystreet Season 6

Now I love Aphmau’s channel and series, have since I was 10, but this last season of Mystreet and parts of season 5 could have been so much better. This is meant to be no “attack” or “jab” at Jess and Jason’s writing, these are merely opinions from a long-time fan. I am gonna go on a bit of a rant about the parts I personally feel could have been MUCH improved on. I would like to preface this with saying that I really do not enjoy this season and therefore do not re watch it a lot. Its also 4:40 am my time so this might turn into a sleep deprived ramble but anyways, here we go...

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 5/6 OF APHMAUS MYSTREET

Kawaii Chan/ Nana

I adore Nana. She has consistently been my favourite female character for all 6 seasons of the show and in diaries but holy she has done wrong this past season. Getting almost killed and then not having any involvement what so ever. The majority of her screen time, especially near the fight with the demon warlock, just felt like the writers forgot she was there and wanted to give Moeka lines. Her involvement with Zane was the only moments she seemed to have. Speaking of her and Zane... While I love them as a couple, I also despise the fact that Nana only ever got development or a backstory when it came time to ship her with Zane. I wish she could have been more explored earlier on aside from being the “annoying, shippy, meifwa girl”. She got the short end of the stick recently and I hate it.

Aaron

I have really never liked Aaron. From him being a high school senior dating a freshman to him literally murdering people, I never liked him. This season really didn't help that. Aaron ended lives, we see him kill Blaze and is he punished at all for it ? No. Yes, he was blinded and lost his memory but that wasn't as a reprimand for his crime of I don’t know MURDER. Aaron and Irene’s constant interactions make zero sense to me. One man cant be brought back to life by God twice. I get a bad sense that through-out season 6, we are meant to be supporting or sympathising with Aaron but I just cant. We are treated to numerous flashbacks to Aaron’s past, inter-cut with scenes of him committing various horrid actions. His father raised and treated him horribly but that is no excuse for murder. The ending of season 6 seemed almost hopeful for Aaron with the “hope” of him and Aphmau reuniting and I honestly don’t feel it is 100% earned.

Ultima/ Werewolf

This point isn't so much a critique on season 6 specifically but on the series as a whole. Aaron and his family being werewolves, being descendants of the ultima werewolf no less, came out of no where. Werewolves being introduced into the main plot could have been cool but instead the majority of it came off being rather cringey, specially in Phoenix Drop High. Anytime a werewolf would call Aphmau or Aaron “Alpha”, I could feel my skin crawl. The dealing of almost species based discrimination in season 6 was down right awful and Im not even talking about Aphmau wanting to be turned. The whole ordeal with the restaurant denying the werewolf pack service was over and dealt with as soon as it happened, The werewolves being hunted in season 6 because of the possibility they were an ultima and Katelyns reaction to Aaron being a werewolf seemed to come out of no-where. The idea of discrimination based on something someone can not control in a minecraft story could have been a way to teach younger kids a great life lesson but the majority of story lines involving werewolves were so half-assed, you cant even make a successful anecdote out of them.

MCD/MS Connection

In the last season of MS, they really tried to shoe-horn in this connection with MCD which honestly creates nothing but plot-holes. A MS/MCD connection could have been a really cool concept and piece to see but its so rushed and forced, it just comes across as awkward and last minute. If the writers really did want to merge the two series or at least have them canonically exist in the same universe, they should have been setting it up from the first season. Overall, the two series are so vastly different from their environment to the characters that a complete mash up of the two would be so jarring. Just imagine Zane from MS meeting Zane from MCD or all of the MCD characters in a world without Wyvern, common use of ships, lords, and being introduced to the technology. A series combining the two would be fun and it would be fun seeing the characters interact and meet each other but it would need to be well thought out instead of just saying “and now here’s Irene and the demon warlock” which is what season 6 did.

Dante/ Laurence

The Laurence curse strikes again but this time, its not just him. Since season 2, there has been a “tendency” to forget Laurence in the shows events. He was absent throughout Season 2 and again for Seasons 4,5 and 6. Dante, however, was very present in the first 3 straight seasons of the show. No one expected for him to disappear out of the blue ;) like that. Laurence disappearing could make sense, maybe Sebastian was booked up at the time or other personal reasons but Kestin voiced Zane and Eric throughout the show. Season 5 of the show I will cut some slack for forgetting them, It already barely made sense for how characters like Kai or Nate were there, but forgetting Laurence in Season 2 seemed odd. Dante and Laurence not only could have helped the “gang” but they could’ve provided some great entertainment and story lines but instead we got Ein ... again.

Ein

Eins rant will be shorter as while his character in season 4 did not leave much of an impact on me, his story could have been written leagues better. Eins story line and subsequent death was insanely fast. We got the spotting at the end of season 5 and a poorly done B plot throughout season 6. Ein is a fairly good villain with some decent potential, he could have been much more utilised. Ein served only to kill Aphmau then die. His character got walked all over. Literally. He caused such shit in season 4 and his death was a simple *stomp*. Are you kidding ? Everything could have been just ... better. Not only in regards to Ein but for the entire season.

Closing Thoughts

Overall the season was not good, in my opinion. Mystreet works much better as a episodic show like a slice of life anime, as a story driven series like a shounen it does not. If the rumours about a season 7 are true, I really hope it is at least a bit better than this one. It as a whole was a mess. To reiterate, this is meant as no attack on the writers or BluJay Studios but as a critique on this particular season. I love Aphmau and the Mystreet series but this was its low point. Thank you for sitting through my incoherent rantings about a minecraft show. :) have a great day/night !!

#aphmau #mystreet #minecraft diaries #mcd #kawaiichan #nana #aaron lycan #dante #laurence #ein #starlight #an annoying teenager ranting about their childhood obsession

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chocoluckchipz · 3 years

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A Soulmate for Christmas - 1

No one but you see your soulmate mark. Not unless your soulmate touches it, and even then, it only glows for a moment. Most consider that a blessing, but Marinette would say it’s a blessed curse. Because how was she supposed to find the boy who left a black cat mark on her hand fifteen years ago in the city that wasn't even located in France? So when she finds a model flaunting the mark she put on him all those years back in a magazine, she has hope for a moment. That is until she notices the article discuss his imminent engagement to someone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what’s the emergency?"

Marinette’s hand emerged from under the covers, pointing in the direction of her desk. "The new Paris Fashion. Page thirty."

Alya whistled upon reaching the said page. "Looking good, M Agreste. Good enough to turn my best friend into a hot mess with a single picture."

"This isn’t funny, Al. Look at his chest!"

"Pure lean muscle. Perfectly toned. He's growing up nicely. Though, I fail to see why this is a big enough emergency for you to make me bail on lunch with Nino."

"Look. At. His. Chest." Marinette crawled out from under the comforter and stomped toward Alya, pointing at the particular spot on the picture. "This. Look at this."

"A ladybug tattoo? So—Wait!" Alya looked up at Marinette, her finger pointing to the ladybug mark painted on his chest. "Are you telling me that’s his—"

"Right where I put it!" Marinette cried, ducking back under her covers. "See? He exists! I told you. I can’t believe you were doubting me all this time!"

"Well, excuse me, but you were five, and he sounded too good to be true. Little boys don’t usually go out of their way to help crying girls they don’t know find their flirting grandmas at a fashion show in Milan. Little boys don’t kiss said little girl’s hand as a farewell while they are at it. And they certainly don’t ask for the girl to kiss their soulmate mark into existence as close to their heart as she possibly could. ‘So, they won’t forget her,’ right?"

"So, he could always keep me close to his heart," Marinette corrected. "But that doesn’t matter now. You were right. That boy doesn’t exist anymore, and this one isn’t as good as I thought he was, so whatever. I’ll get over him and move on. There are plenty of guys out there. One of them is bound to like me more than money, fame, and prestige."

"What do you mean? Shouldn’t you be happy your crush is your soulmate?"

With a pitiful groan slipping her lips, Marinette buried her face into her pillow. "Ugh! I can’t believe I ever felt guilty for crushing on him. I thought I was a horrible person betraying my soulmate for some handsome, sexy supermodel. Foolish me. He doesn’t deserve any of my attention."

"Marinette, seriously. What do you mean?"

"Read the article."

Alya fell silent as soon as she noticed the title. "‘Paris’ most eligible bachelor reveals… a long-time secret relationship with his childhood friend Kagami Tsurugi. Doesn’t deny Christmas Eve engagement rumour.’ Oh."

"And you know what the worst part is?"

"What can be worse than discovering that your long-time crush is your long-lost soulmate and then finding out he’s been not only dating someone else but very likely will propose… tonight?"

"How about being at the same party at the same time. As a waitress."

Alya swore under her breath and put the magazine down. "Mayor Bourgeois’ Christmas Gala?"

Marinette nodded. "The article said they both confirmed they will be attending. I'll get a front-row seat to my soulmate's proposal to someone else. Lucky me."

"Then don’t go," she said, sitting down beside Marinette. "I’ll go in your place."

Marinette couldn’t let her do that. Nino was going to propose tonight, so Alya couldn’t be anywhere but with him. "You’re spending your first Christmas with Nino’s family. I’m not standing in the way of that."

"I can spend New Year Day with them."

"You’re going to the French Alps with your family that weekend. Don’t try to weasel out of it. Your mom has been planning that trip for months. Nora’s flying in specifically for it."

"I’m not trying to weasel out. I’m trying to help you, M."

"And I appreciate it, but I’m not making you go instead of me."

"What about your father?"

"The doctor said he shouldn’t be getting up for at least another week or his leg might not heal properly and he’ll end up with a prospect of a surgery which we’re trying to avoid."

"Then, I’m sure Rose or Juleka wouldn’t mind stepping in."

"No." Marinette sat up on her bed. "They have plans, and I’m not going to ruin them. I’ll just have to grow a pair and face him like the strong, independent woman I am. Or rather go help Maman and avoid him at all cost. He’s not even going to recognize me anyway. I didn’t. Not until I saw that photo."

"That’s true. I doubt he remembers much about you. You were babies when you met, so just stay away from him and keep your hands covered. That way even if you accidentally touch he won’t see it. A pair of gloves perhaps?"

"Mayor has uniforms for all the servers, even those coming in with the caterers, so no gloves for me. But as long as I do my job and pretend like I’m not in the same room with my soulmate who clearly didn't think me worthy enough to search for and instead decided to date this very famous, very influential, extremely rich girl from his own circle, I should be fine."

"I’m so sorry, M." Alya wrapped her arms around Marinette, bringing her into her chest for a cuddle. "Men are stupid. Some more than the others. Especially the rich and spoiled ones."

Marinette scoffed bitterly. "Don’t I know it. I got plenty of examples from being in the same class as Chloe Bourgeois for years."

"Isn’t Adrien Chloe’s friend?"

"I think so. I was hoping Adrien wasn't like her. Clearly, that isn't the case."

"You'll get over him soon, and we'll find you a nice, handsome, smart man who will cherish and love you for who you are."

"Soulmates are so last century anyway, right?" Marinette swallowed back the knot in her throat. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, this hurt. "I’m sure he doesn’t even remember meeting me. We were five. Who would be holding on to a memory of a random girl in Milan? And even if he did remember me, he probably thinks I live there. I thought my soulmate lived in Milan until he decided to show off his stupid soulmate mark to the whole world. Who does that, anyway? Those are supposed to be one of the most intimate of details of one’s life. You don’t just show it to everyone, and certainly not to the whole world while announcing your engagement to someone else."

Her eyes fell to her hand where, invisible to everyone but her, an image of a black cat lay, a mark Adrien Agreste left there more than a decade ago with his first kiss to her skin. Just like a mark of a ladybug appeared on his chest when her lips touched it upon his request. He said he wanted to keep her close to his heart, so it would be easier for him to find her.

What a load of BS.

"Have you ever thought that, perhaps, that could’ve been a message to you?" Alya asked. "He went through the trouble of painting over his soulmate mark for the photoshoot so others could see it. It has to mean something. No one is dumb enough to think that if Adrien Agreste releases topless photos while announcing something as big as a possible engagement, there would be at least one person in France, or even Europe for that matter, who wouldn't see it. He knew his soulmate would see it."

Marinette laughed. Bitterly. "Yeah, a great message. ‘Here is my soulmate mark, my dear soulmate. In all the years I knew you existed, I didn’t bother to find you. But I did make sure that this picture, in which I showcase to the whole world the mark you left me, came along with an article where I discuss how much I love my girlfriend you'll never compare to in status, money or looks. Not that I even care about your feelings, announcing that an engagement is in the near future for me and my darling childhood friend.’ Yeah. This is definitely a message, Alya. He says ‘Screw you, Marinette. I’m better off with Kagami Tsurugi, and I thought you should know that.’"

Alya wrapped her arms around her tighter. "First of all, only brainless idiots would take status and money over love. Second, you’re the prettiest, smartest, and the most successful woman I've ever known, and third, you're an amazing and wonderful person who's on her way to becoming one of the best designers in Paris, so don’t you bring yourself down because of a stupid man who doesn't realize what he lost."

"It's my fault anyway. That's what I get for letting that stupid, cute boy kiss my stupid hand at a stupid fashion show in stupid Milan."

"You were five, M. And he was a dashing gentleman, helping you find your grandmother in a strange city you got lost in. You couldn't have known he's your soulmate. No one could have."

"Right. And he won’t recognize me, so I’ll be fine. He won’t even look a waitress’ way. Nothing to worry about. I’m very much certain the only person he’ll be looking at will be his future bride-to-be, so I have absolutely nothing to be scared of. Not that I’m scared, because I’m not. I just don’t want to be humiliated. Not that I’m already humiliated, but at least no one knows about it. That'll be awful if anyone else finds out—"

Alya grabbed her face and turned to look at her. "Marinette, breathe. Calm down."

She took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. Alya was right. This was fine. She’d be fine. Everything would be just peachy.

"As long as he doesn’t touch your right hand, no one will know. I still insist I go instead of you. Nino will understand—"

"No. I’ll go. I can do it."

"Yes, you can, and you’ll be fine, but if anything happens, you have my number. I’ll be there in five minutes. You got me?"

Marinette nodded, pulling Alya into a hug. She was an amazing friend, and Nino and she were going to be insanely happy together. One day perhaps, Marinette would meet someone too. Someone who, just like her, was betrayed by their soulmate. Or someone who had lost theirs. Someone who would be kind and gentle and, like her, would just want to be happy.

Someone who was not Adrien Agreste.

Next >

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#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #soulmates #adrinette #fluff #light angst #misunderstanding #happy end #aged up #no magic au #soulmate marks

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

But Once a Year (1/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

————

Rating: T Word Count: 8.3K and just a lot more than originally planned AN: It’s me. Incapable of writing a multi-chapter until starting a new job, and having other prompts to fill, and I really will fill those other prompts, so prepare yourselves for an onslaught of Christmas fic. Of which this is only kind of that. It takes place at Christmas. But also involves time travel, and way more canon divergence than I’ve ever written, and kissing. Because of who I am as a person. Blame @klynn-stormz if you must. Or don’t, because she sent a very good prompt and is very nice and I hope she enjoys this mess of words.

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam

————

She’s so goddamn hot. It’s absurd. And disgusting. But mostly absurd.

Sweat pools at the base of Emma’s spine, drips down the sides of her cheeks and falls from the edge of her jaw. Makes her skin crawl, the kind of heat that’s far too oppressive and she’s already having enough trouble breathing, so all of this seems like overkill. Which is Neverland’s schtick, she imagines.

Licking her lips doesn’t help. Moving is a lost cause before she’s even considered clamoring to her feet, and she’s genuinely not sure if she’d be able to unbend her knees anyway, crouched as she is in whatever foliage surrounds the mouth of the Echo Caves.

It smells.

The foliage — and Emma, she supposes. Most of her thoughts drift away from body odor rather quickly though, right back into that cave and she can’t figure out who made the cell Neal was in, but she also told Neal she wished he was actually dead while he was in that cell and she figures that makes her something of an asshole.

Feeling clenches in her chest, quite possibly the physical manifestation of her anxiety and growing fear and every single second that passes is another second they haven’t used to find Henry and—

“Ah, shit,” Emma hisses, not able to get her sword out of its makeshift scabbard in time. Maybe she shouldn’t keep it on her back.

Hook lifts his eyebrows.

“Are you alright, love?” “Shut up. What are you doing out here? It’s not your turn to watch.” Scoffing, he lets his tongue trace across the front of his teeth, which is only vaguely obscene, and Emma’s far too warm to deal with this. In both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word. It’s ridiculous that he’s still wearing his jacket. “Aren’t you hot?” she asks, words tumbling out of her before she’s really considered them and she wishes that trend would stop.

Quickly. Immediately, even.

Not crying after her mother’s Echo Cave admission might be one of Emma’s great accomplishments to date.

“Should all of your statements sound so much like insults?” Hook quips, his tongue continuing to torment Emma. Staring at his tongue is becoming something of a very real issue for her.

Presumably because she’s now all too aware of what that tongue is capable of, and they’d been very good at kissing. Each other, specifically. Better than she thought, honestly. And she refuses to acknowledge how often she thought about it.

She still hasn’t been able to get her sword out of its scabbard entirely. “I’m going to take your rather pointed silence as confirmation of the insults,” Hook continues. Rocking forward, the edges of his jacket threaten to brush Emma’s bent legs and she honestly has no idea what she’ll do if that happens, so leaning back seems like a reasonable response and not one that’s going to make his eyes do that thing. Where they dim ever so slightly, teasing disappearing and evolving into understanding she both hates and wants on some sort of fundamental level and—

“I’m sorry.”

On the nonexistent list of things Emma doesn’t expect, that might be numbers one through seven. Maybe even up to eight.

“You don’t—” she shakes her head, hair sticking to her skin in the process, “Well, no that’s not actually true, because you probably shouldn’t have said anything about the making out—” “—I don’t believe I used that particular phrase.”

He actually has the gall to smirk when Emma glares at him, eyebrows twisted in the kind of unspoken challenge that regularly makes her stomach flip. Emma doesn’t have time for stomach flipping. She’s got to find her kid. Possibly get, like, twenty-four minutes of uninterrupted sleep. “Even so,” Hook adds, “it was…” There’s enough fabric on that monstrosity of a jacket that Emma can only imagine he’s got plenty of pocket options to stuff his hands into, but his thumb just finds his belt loop and the exhale he lets out is rife with emotion. The same kind she’s trying to avoid, in tandem with the stomach flipping. “Your father keeps glaring at me.”

Laughing is a patently absurd reaction to that.

Her father is dying, apparently. Or tethered to this island, and that’s not much better, but it absolutely does not surprise Emma that he’s falling directly back into overprotective and if she’s going to be the asshole she absolutely is, then she should also probably admit how nice it was

to be hugged with that kind of determination before.

That might not be the right word.

Whatever, it’s the thought that counts. She thinks she might be able to fall asleep if her dad were here.

“It’s not a big deal,” Emma lies, barely opening her mouth. Like even that can’t believe what she’s trying to claim. “Although I am sorry about my dad, I can—I mean I can say something if you want.” “No, no, that wasn’t what I was suggesting, at all. I’m sure the prince has better things to worry about than—” “You and me?”

Hook hums. Keeps his thumb where it is, and his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

Her stomach noticeably sinks.

“Of course, not—no, I just…” Stammering Captain Hook catches Emma off guard, eyeing the toe of his boot as it digs a fairly impressive divot into the ground that is no doubt staining her jeans. And she’s about to do something, really she is. Say something almost positive, or reassuring, or maybe simply jump back to her feet, bent knees be damned, so she can grab the lapels of that nearly-offensive jacket and kiss the ever-loving daylights out of him. Again. But something snaps behind her, and every single inch of Kill—no, no, Hook, still Captain Hook.

That’s more unimportant syntax.

Because all of him tenses as immediately as Emma had been hoping for before, a soft noise on the wind that’s strong enough to ruffle those sweat-drenched strands of her hair. Her mouth goes dry, the laughter making her pulse sputter traitorously and Hook’s sword all but flies out of its scabbard.

“Emma, you need to move,” he says, calm as anything. It’s an act. She knows — can tell even when it appears the jungle is getting darker, and the stars above them are going out, but then again, she’s always been able to tell with him, and it’s very disappointing that her rather dramatic swallow doesn’t do anything to help the state of her mouth.

He used her name.

Eventually that will feel very important.

“What? Why, it’s—”

“Please, love,” Hook presses, “I need you to come with me. Right now. How long have you been out here?” Shrugging is harder than Emma expects it to be. As if the heat is actually a weight, pressing directly into her shoulders and rooting her exactly where she is. “We need to move, Swan. You shouldn’t be here.” “Well, that’s kind of rude.”

Widening his eyes makes it even more obvious how blue they are, and they are so ridiculously blue sometimes Emma wonders if she could simply drown in them. Sometimes that doesn’t seem like all that unappealing a prospect.

God, he was good at kissing.

“You told me to shut up earlier. Turnabout is fair play, darling.” “Running the gamut of nicknames, aren’t we? Is that a power move?” “Endearments, really. And no, it’s not. Disappointing that wasn’t clearer what with my intention to apologize and make sure you were alright.”

“Sounds suspiciously like playing knight in pirate armor.” “Can’t imagine armor would be very comfortable. Not much freedom of movement, you see.”

She laughs. Without thinking too much about the sound, mostly because the sound seems to bubble out of Emma and that’s not right. She doesn’t bubble. She stews, and sits and—

Something springs from the ground. Spring is generous, honestly. Cracks form under Emma’s splayed out fingers, tiny green vines that file up with a smell that make her vision swim and her senses fog, and she’s dimly aware of a hand on her shoulder. Tugging her forward, but Emma’s legs simply are not interested in functioning, and she’s so comfortable here. Standing seems even more unreasonable than before, especially when all of her inhales come with that scent. Reminding her of something she can’t quite understand, and it’s suspiciously similar to the tide coming in, and he’s still yelling.

And swinging his sword. Light gleams off the blade, probably because whatever is pushing out of the ground is also glowing, and Emma’s mind can��t really cope with glowing plants right now.

She squeezes her eyes closed. Burrows her face into the very solid chest she’s somehow level with, and Emma’s not entirely sure when that happened, but she also can’t bring herself to complain about it. Especially when it feels like his lips graze her temple. More than once.

“Swan, c’mon love we’ve got to go.”

Groaning, Emma’s head doesn’t ache. Nothing does, actually. She’s oddly comfortably and her internal-body temperature appears to be biologically accurate, but she’s admittedly not totally confident about her knowledge of that second thing, and whatever is underneath her left cheek is also quite obviously not the very solid, slightly uncovered chest of a pirate captain she’d like to make out with again.

Her stomach flies into her throat that time. So, there’s something to be said for a change of pace.

Emma blinks. Swallows. More than once. Licks her lips, to absolutely no avail — but she can’t be bothered with that when it’s clear her heart is doing its damndest to beat its way out of her chest, and she’s not in Neverland anymore.

For one thing, there’s a distinct lack of smells. Bad ones, at least. Wherever she is smells suspiciously liked baked goods and the forest, which makes sense as soon as Emma blinks open her eyes. There’s a rather large tree across from her.

Covered in garland and lights that blink back at her, ornaments hang from nearly every branch, and there are enough presents underneath that she briefly wonders which bank they had to rob to buy all of that. Snow flurries dance outside windows that are frosted over, and there are a lot of windows in this room.

Some of them look out towards an expansive backyard, while others make it clear just how close they are to the water, and Emma thinks she can almost smell the water, but that might be wishful thinking and—

“Holy shit,” she breathes, gaze finally landing on the voice in front of her and she knew the voice, even when she didn’t want to admit it. That’s something of a theme for her now. “What—what are you wearing?” Tilting his head in confusion, strands of hair threaten to fall into Hook’s eyes. The same blue as always, if not a little sharper because it’s obvious he doesn’t understand what’s going on, and Emma’s going to cling to that. So it feels like they’re on slightly more even footing.

“Clothes,” he drawls, and that's the same too. Emma can’t move. Is having quite a lot of trouble breathing, and clothes is a vast understatement.

Pants that are somehow tighter than any of the leather he’d previously sported make his legs look ridiculous, especially when there’s a noticeable lack of sword and Emma was kind of getting used to the sword. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, nothing covering the brace at the end of his arm, but she’s also admittedly preoccupied with the number of buttons he’s undone and the vest that’s hanging loosely from his shoulders, and this might actually be the first time she’s seen him without a jacket on.

Her stomach will probably just stay in her throat, then.

“You’ll do dangerous things to my ego, if you keep staring like that,” Hook warns, but any passably snarky response gets caught behind Emma’s increasingly problematic tongue and her brain still hasn’t caught up yet.

To the glint of light reflecting from his hand.

And one very specific finger.

Mouth dropping and breath practically flying out of her, Emma nearly steps on both of his feet when she jumps to hers, trying without much success to stay upright. Her hands fly towards him of their own accord, or so she will argue forever, and that can’t possibly be her first mistake.

Putting her goddamn scabbard on her back was, probably.

As it is, whatever number she’s at is suddenly the only number that matters, because her flat palms make it undeniably clear that she’s got her own bit of jewelry on her own specific finger, and Killian’s hand keeps moving. Up and down her spine, like that’s something it’s allowed to do. There is not enough oxygen in the world to sigh as loudly as she’d like to.

“Steady on, love,” Hook murmurs, and that about does it. Neck giving up and knees threatening to buckle underneath her, Emma’s fingers curl into this absolutely ridiculous shirt at the same time her forehead collides with his collarbone, and he doesn’t really flinch.

Tenses, slightly — although she figures that’s because of the worry she can practically fele radiating off him, and his hand stills. So as to ensure that his arm can also tighten around her middle, while his lips brush across her temple and the top of her hair.

Anywhere he can reach, it seems.

“Nightmare?” he asks, pulling her closer. They fit very well together, Emma realizes. Like pieces of a puzzle, and that’s admittedly sentimental, but she’s also ninety-six percent certain she’s still dreaming. That’s the only reasonable explanation.

She can’t be dead. Not from a plant attack in Neverland. And Kill—Hook, goddamnit, Hook, wouldn’t have let that happen. She’s sure of that, at least.

“Um, yeah, yeah,” she stammers. “I—sorry, I don’t think I meant to fall asleep.” “Nothing to apologize for. You’ve been baking for a small army the last couple of days, only serves that’d be exhausting.”

“Have I?” Leaning back, he narrows his eyes, and that’s fair. None of this makes sense. Rings, and trees, and baking. She’s never baked in her life. If she had, it wouldn’t smell nearly this good.

“Who, um—” Emma continues, eyes widening when the realization hits her. “Henry! Where’s Henry?” Running is not easy with the arm still around seemingly getting tighter by the second, but her fear has already evolved into the kind of maternal-based adrenaline they do scientific studies on. “Let go of me,” she sneers, and he does. Immediately. The sound of his hands hitting his jeans is far too loud. “Where’s my kid? Why isn’t he here?” The tongue thing.

Swiping across the front of Hook’s teeth, the tip of his tongue finds the corner of his mouth and the inside of his cheek, jutting out with questions and the almost audible cranking of metaphorical gears in his head. “It’s not Christmas yet,” Hook explains, voice oddly similar to a few minutes before, but Emma’s starting to realize that was not a few minutes before and she’s starting to feel a little nauseous.

“Yuh huh.” “Are you alright, love?” He says it soft enough that something flutters in the back of Emma’s brain, some long-forgotten hint of emotion that she refuses to acknowledge. She doesn’t have time for it. There’s baking to do, supposedly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m, uh—I’m fine,” Emma promises, only one side of Hook’s mouth tilting up. “Just...tired, I guess.” “Because of the nightmare.” “Say that again when it doesn’t sound quite so much like an accusation.” “No accusation,” he objects, but it rings as sincere as her promise and the light’s got to be messing with her now. Bouncing off his ring the way it is. “Haven’t had a nightmare in some time, but that’s neither here nor there.” “Wow, you suck at that.”

There goes the other side of his mouth. Emma might be staring at his mouth. “Occasionally,” Hook agrees. “What’d you dream about, then?” Lying is very appealing. Coming up with a story Emma knows he’ll only half believe, but she assumes she’s got plausible deniability too, and she can’t think of a single thing to say. That’s disappointing.

“I was in Neverland.”

If nothing else, staring at his mouth — and the rest of his admittedly attractive face — makes it easy to tell the moment Hook’s jaw clenches. Nerves color his gaze, almost as if he’s trying to remember something he’s already forgotten, but Emma appears to be the only one having some sort of existential crisis and the hint of grey at his temples suggests its been some time since Neverland. Figuring out how much time exactly, will probably be a bit of a challenge. “And?” “And what?” “And there’s plenty of terrors to warrant nightmares in Neverland,” Hook says, stepping out of Emma’s space. Also disappointing. “What exactly was it?” Shaking her head slowly, Emma’s hair doesn’t move. She’s not nearly as sweaty as she was either, the blanket at her feet proof positive of that, although her skin feels almost clammy and the magic in her veins has started to buzz. If Killian doesn’t stop moving his tongue in his mouth, she’s going to scream.

Ah, goddamn.

“I don’t know,” she says, not the lie she still wants it to be, “just some weird plant thing and you wanted me to come with you, but that was probably now, right?” There’s no way he’s comfortable with his neck at that angle. “Maybe. Do you still want to go?” “To, uh—” “—Doc called this morning, said the paint was ready to pick up.” “Paint,” Emma echoes, another confusing string of words that threatens to knock her back on the couch. It was a comfortable couch though, so maybe that’s not the worst thing that could happen to her. Neither is waking up in a reality where Hook wears jeans like that and stares at her like she’s his—she drops back. Onto the comfortable couch.

“Mmhm, the color we picked out last week? He claimed he had to order it, but your father claims he’s just nervous because he doesn’t want to offend me and—” “—Why would you get offended by a dwarf?” Dots of pink appear on his cheeks. The bits not covered with stubble, and there’s some grey in that as well. It works, honestly. “He mercilessly overcharges for her services,” Hook says, clearly not the first time this particular rant has been voiced, “and it’s because he’s the only hardware store in town. Which is why you wanted to go. Help small businesses and the economy of the realm, even when Regina claimed we could order it just as easily off Amazon. But that only led to your denouncement of Jeff Bezos, and I do love it when you openly flout capitalism, so—” He shrugs. Emma might be going into shock. “Here we are, with slightly delayed, if not well-mixed paint, enough baked goods to mask the smell, and your parents guarantee that there’s more than enough room for all of us on Christmas Eve.”

“We’re painting on Christmas Eve?” Concern continues to ripple around him, made all the more clear by the pinch between his eyebrows and how often he rocks forward before shaking his head. It’s four times. “No, we’re painting—well, whenever we have time really, but you did mention Friday evening, and that way Hope could stay at the farm. Naturally she’s thrilled at the prospect.” “Right, right, right, that’s....yeah, that’s right.” She’s so bad at lying. To Hook, specifically. Open book practically broadcasts itself from every twitch of his mouth, and Emma is still doing a God awful job of not staring at his mouth, but her head is spinning and she can’t understand any of this and she’s kind of curious about what paint color they picked.

And who Hope is.

She refuses to acknowledge the flicker of familiarity in the back corner of her brain.

She’s got to get out of here. Away from the couch, and whatever color the paint might be, back to Neverland, which is not something she ever thought she’d want, but they haven’t found Henry yet and who knows what Pan is planning next and— “Where’s Henry?” Emma whispers, far too aware of the desperation in those two words. Hook’s lips thin. When he presses them together. “I know he’s not going to be here until Christmas, but is—he’s ok, right?” “Swan, are you—” “—Just tell me where my kid is, Hook!” Those words fly out of her, voice rising on every letter until it feels as if they’re cutting their way out of Emma’s soul, leaving lacerations behind and the blood that’s appeared on the tip of her tongue makes her recoil. She fully expects him to take another step back, not sure when she stood up again, only that her knees are knocking together now, so naturally that’s not what happens at all.

Hook moves back into her space, made all the easier by the lack of weapons between them, hand finding her cheek as easily as it traced her spine, and Emma doesn’t want to lean into the touch, but he’s so ridiculously warm and she’s teetering on the edge of undeniable insanity, so she’s going to give herself this. For at least six seconds.

“Visiting Ella’s stepsister, so while he’s probably not having the best time, Lu’s always been a rather large fan of that particular realm, and Drizella is a bit of a pushover. I’d imagine the little lass is going gangbusters on the present front.”

Emma’s breathing out of her mouth.

That seems fair as well. Trying to piece together any of that information with the life she’s currently living is all but impossible, and it’s only a matter of time until her knees give up again. Honestly, not crying continues to be her greatest talent.

“Maybe I should just go to the store,” Hook says, “and let you try and get some more rest.”

Even the thought of being left here alone makes Emma’s magic boil in the pit of her stomach — wherever it might be sitting now, and she’s already shaking her head. “No, no, I want to make sure it’s the right color.” “Yuh huh.” “Sounding less than agreeable, Captain.” It’s a mean trick. One she knows will work, and it does. Hook’s eyes flash, and his brows jump, the hand that returned to her hip at some point tightening ever so slightly. “Tell me that you’re alright, and I’ll consider it.” “I’m fine.” “You’re a woefully bad liar is what you are, Your Highness.” Scrunching her nose, Emma tries very hard to temper the fluttering between her ribs. Magic mixes with nerves and flirting that’s not necessarily easier than it’s been, but certainly more fine-tuned. As if it’s a dance both of them are used to. “You can’t pull your sword on Doc, you know that, right?” “That hasn’t happened in years.” “Hook either, that might honestly be worse.” “He’s got a stranglehold on the hardware economy in this town. It’s not right. Gives him leave to charge an arm and a leg.” “If I tell you I’m fine again, will that distract you from your questionable obsession with hardware-based economies?” “Probably not,” Hook grins, more teasing and fluttering and his eyebrows jump again. As soon as Emma licks her lips.

“No challenging the dwarfs to a duel.” Saluting is only passably overwhelming, but that appears to be the way this is going, and Emma cannot come up with an appropriate adjective to describe whatever sound she makes. As soon as he kisses her cheek. Giggling is out of the realm of possibility. “Noted,” Hook says, “c’mon, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can pick up the little sea monster.”

At this point, Emma would almost welcome a battle with a sea monster. Get her blood flowing, provide an outlet for all her adrenaline and, she hopes at least, if she dies in this dream, she’ll wake up back in Neverland.

This has to be a dream.

So, it seems they live in a mansion.

Stepping outside, Emma’s breath catches loudly as she stares at the wraparound porch and there are somehow more windows than she’d originally noticed, and a turret-type thing involved that’s only vaguely absurd. Almost as much as the way people greet them on Main Street, familiar faces mixing in with strangers, all of whom nod and smile and some who even reach a hand out to Hook like he’s not a pirate or only recently returned to Storybrooke with the one thing they needed to get to Neverland, but Emma also supposes that was years ago, even if the math is still admittedly kind of messing with her.

That was never her strongest subject in school.

And there’s no sword strapped to his hip when the bell over the hardware store door rings, but Hook’s called “Doc” still sounds appropriately threatening, the scuffle of shoes and slightly panted breaths making Emma almost smile in spite of herself and her mathematical failings. “Captain,” Doc exhales, shuffling behind the counter that spans the far wall of the store. Tools and cans of paint line the shelves above his head, a name tag pinned to his shirt that seems unnecessary, but Emma’s nearly charmed by that as well and wholly unprepared for Doc to glance her way, adding—“Your Highness, it’s so nice to see you. I’ve got your order all ready, if you’d like to…”

Whatever else he says disappears in a haze of buzzing magic and malfunctioning joints, Emma’s fingers fluttering at her side while it sounds like Killian does his best to argue the price. For the paint. That they’re going to use. In their mansion.

She didn’t ask which room they were going to paint.

That felt like a flashing-neon sign, announcing how little she belongs in this place and Emma’s fairly certain Hook can tell, but that’s also another sign she’s not entirely ready to deal with at the moment and Doc flinches when the literal hook drops onto the counter.

Emma presses her lips together.

So as not to laugh. Like a person nearing their psychotic breaking point.

“But Captain,” Doc argues, “we did agree on that mark, and—” “—Aye, but that was before it took an extra three days to receive the color, and I think there should be some sort of fee reduction for that.” “There aren’t any fees, just—” “—The overall cost, then.”

Pain flutters at the back of her consciousness when her teeth continue to dig into her lips, but the feeling twits with amusement and that looming sense of insanity, and Hook hardly even moves when Emma does. So she can rest her hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s not that big of a deal,” she ventures.

Hook gapes at her. “Traitor.” “Pirate,’ she counters. “But I think we can afford it. Y’know, just to help the—” “—Locals,” he finishes, “aye, it’s something I’ve heard several thousand times before, love. But it is the principle of the thing.” “The thing being what, exactly?” “Efficiency,” Hook replies, as cool as any vegetable Emma could come up with, and Doc’s eyes go comically wide behind his glasses. The whole thing is actually pretty impressive. Attractive, maybe. She doesn’t have time for that. She has to—

Get back home is not the right string of words at all. Home is some abstract concept that certainly does not exist in the reality Emma came from, and even less so in a place like Neverland, but she doesn’t belong here, with the jewelry and the house, and she can’t quite get over the way his face twisted. When she called him Hook.

“Naturally,” Emma mutters. “Can we just get the paint, Doc? Then we’ll be out of your hair.” Doc hums, but he doesn’t move and Emma can’t believe he doesn’t move. She’s given him an out. A reason to scamper back to wherever he’s keeping their paint, away from Hook’s appraising stare and the hand that’s already inching back towards hers, and he’s somehow even more tactile than usual.

It makes her mouth go dry again.

“Of course, Your Highness. If your husband could just agree to the terms of price, then—” Hook rolls his whole head, hair shifting in the process, and that’s minimally distracting when Emma’s heart constricts in her chest. Because she knew. Has eyes, after all. And the notable ability to stare. But there’s something about hearing the word that makes it all the more real, and Hook’s argument doesn’t have anything to do with relationship monikers.

She’s starting to have several assumptions as to who Hope is. One assumption, really.

Pulling her hand away from Hook’s is easier when he’s so preoccupied, twisting the ring around her finger and staring at the stone and it’s—well, it’s gorgeous, honestly. Exactly what Emma would imagine if she’d ever let herself imagine such a thing, and that’s got to be another sign or something at least in the realm of positive, and it turns out they’re painting the dining room. Blue, and that’s something of a cliche, but anything Emma has to say about that gets stuck halfway out of her undeniably chapped lips when Killian ushers her out of the store, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth because— “Color reminds me a bit of that gown of yours.”

She’s atrocious at this. Schooling her features, or acting like every word out of his mouth isn’t a punch to her literal gut. It’s a miracle she hasn’t just keeled over. In the middle of goddamn Main Street, where the guy who is very clearly her husband has stopped them.

So as to stare at her incredulously.

“You’ve got no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” “Presumptuous.” “Not an answer, m’dear.” Maybe Emma will start keeping track of endearments. Just to give her mind something to latch onto. There appear to be more than she’s used to. “You wore a very blue gown to Elsa’s wedding, made some rather wonderful comments about how it matched my eyes that also made you blush rather severely, all of which I will admit to still thinking about with almost startling regularity.” She’s got no idea who the fuck Elsa is, or why they’d go to her wedding. Wearing a gown. And making sweepingly sentimental statements.

Her smile is weak at best. “Sorry, just—that paint smell got to me, I think.” “Sure it did,” Hook says, clearly not convinced, “maybe we should go see Regina.” “Why would we do that?” Leveling her with a slightly different expression, Hook’s tongue shifts behind his closed mouth. Emma juts her chin out. In misplaced defiance, and inherent stubbornness. She’ll find Regina later. When she’s not at least partially thinking about kissing this version of Kill—

Hook, Hook, Hook, Ho—she wonders how he proposed. If he proposed. Maybe she did, what does Emma know? Nothing, apparently. “Do you remember what those plants looked like?” “What?” Emma asks. “Maybe you’re the one who got messed up by paint fumes.” “Absolutely scathing, Swan. Answer the question, please.” There’s an undercurrent of command in his voice — like she’s a member of his crew, and she doesn’t know if he has a crew anymore, but Emma bristles at the thought of being part of it all the same and the muscles in her neck do not appreciate being angled like this. “I told you, it was just a dream.” “Aye, you did. And as you would so lovingly put it, that particular lie sucked quite a bit. So once more, what were you dreaming about and where were you in the dream?” Opening her mouth, Emma’s sarcastic and inevitably snark-filled response evaporates as soon as she hears the clack of heels on the sidewalk next to them and the woman walking towards them has shockingly red hair. And a kid clinging to her side. Who immediately tries to launch herself at Hook.

“Codfish heads,” the woman mumbles, Killian not able to hold back his chuckle or keep his arms at his side. The same ones that catch the kid and pull her close to his chest, peppering either one of her cheeks with kisses.

Emma seriously considers dying right there.

Dying will absolutely wake her up, she’s convinced.

“Articulate as always,” Hook grins. The woman sticks her tongue out. “What are you doing here? I thought—ah,” he grunts, a knee slamming into his side, “control the limbs Mel, or I’m going to drop you and then your mom will be even more angry than she is.” The dexterity of this woman’s face is astounding. As is the width of Hook’s smile. “I’m not angry,” she objects, “and I’m here because you didn’t answer your phone. There’s some kind of disaster happening at the realm line.” “What kind of disaster?” “Something to do with magic, and it looks like some of Lancelot’s knights are exploring the forest here, looking for some kind of something because you know they have to have a quest.” “David can’t do anything about that?” “Was more than willing to if you actually decided to acknowledge him today. Hence the frustration over your phone issues.” “An insult roll,” Killian laughs, the sound almost more surprising than anything else Emma’s encountered today. She’s heard him laugh before. Of course she has. But it’s usually cynical, or occasionally even a little evil, and this guy can’t be evil. Not standing there, acting as a human jungle gym to a kid, and a woman Emma’s mind has also started to make assumptions about. The hair was a pretty good clue. No, this isn’t the first time she’s heard him laugh, but it’s certainly her favorite and if she plays the sound on loop in her head for at least several hours, then she hopes no one will ever be the wiser.

Emma hardly notices that she’s referred to him as Killian.

That’s probably for the best.

“And,” he adds, “we finally finished with Doc, so we can go relieve the prince of his duties, even though he offered. Multiple times.” Ariel, Emma assumes this is the goddam Little Mermaid, throws her head back. “Oh Gods, did you terrify him? Is that why you’re being like this? Y’know the paint was back ordered, that’s why it took so long.” “There was no terrifying involved, and if that was the case, he should have made it known. All I heard was that he didn’t have it in stock, and it was going to take a few more days and—”

He cuts himself off when Ariel waves an impatient hand in his face, turning towards Emma expectantly. “Did he terrify Doc?” Emma nods out of instinct, some dark and distant part of her wanting to be involved in this banter and this place, and this place isn’t real, so that’s a dangerous line of thinking, but she can’t seem to stop herself. In the same way Killian can’t seem to do anything except tug her against his side. And kiss the top of her hair.

He really likes to do that.

Especially impressive with the kid still hanging from him.

“She’s a bloody traitor,” he announces, “but one of the other dwarfs is bringing the paint home, and, like I said, we were on our way to pick up the sea monster, so David can deal with the knights. They only listen to one of their own, anyway.” “No honor amongst thieves, huh?” Ariel asks knowingly.

Killian scowls. It’s frustratingly adorable.

“Fine, fine,” she shakes her head, “I retract any annoyance about your refusal to turn the sound on your phone on, if only because you gave my arms a break, and your dining room will look very good in that color.” “It’s a good color.” The arm around her shoulders is the only thing that keeps Emma from melting into the pavement beneath her boots. She had at least six pairs of boots in their hallway closet. Also absurd. And she hears the lilt in Killian’s voice, even if Ariel doesn’t — the soft intensity that sounds eerily similar to the way he promised he understood what it felt to lose hope, how quickly he agreed to her plan, demands, after the kiss and she imagines they kiss quite a lot in this reality.

If her other assumptions are right.

Ariel stares at them for a beat longer, one that Emma worries will end in a longer conversation and inevitable discussion of the awkward way she’s standing, but then the mermaid with legs is pulling her kid back and quieting the riot that causes, and Killian’s arm stays exactly where it is. “Send some pictures when you paint the first wall, ok?”

Killian nods. Stiffer than it should be, but Emma’s only barely managing to stay conscious at this point, and she doesn’t object when he directs her past Granny’s and down a road she’s never noticed before.

His arm doesn’t move.

In the days that will follow, Emma will never be entirely sure how she manages it. Tears sting her eyes almost as soon as the screen door slams behind her, more than one voice drifting down the hall, and there are pictures everywhere. Her own face smiles back at her from multiple times, eyes jumping from frame to frame and back again, a life that isn’t hers playing out despite her own misgivings, and if she’d thought the overall width of Killian’s smile was something ten minutes earlier, it’s got nothing on the several here.

Wearing a tuxedo that does something unfamiliar to her heart, and gazing back from an ornate frame that also holds a grown-up face that’s still able to remind her of the boy she left in Neverland, and another with his arm around Emma’s shoulders again, exhaustion clear even from here, but there’s something cradled in her arms and a tiny hat that makes her whole soul ache and—

“Swan,” Hook breathes, and at least they’re back to that. In her head, where she's clearly going insane. “Emma love, I really need you to tell me what’s going on.”

That’s impossible. Not for any other reason than Emma’s vocal chords appear to have stopped working, and she never actually cries.

It’s a Christmas miracle.

Of the shittiest variety, because Hook’s hovering far too close to her and Emma wonders if he notices the magic coursing through her, or if this is just how he normally stands and none of it matters when two sets of feet sprint down the hallway.

Frames rattle in their wake, both of them shouting and jumping before Emma’s even remotely prepared. She can’t imagine she ever would be. Maybe in a different lifetime. This one, possibly.

Not hers.

Not as is.

And as it is, Hook ducks down before the blur rushing towards Emma’s shin can knock her over, hauling the giggling and smiling bundle over his shoulder. More kisses are dispensed, laughter ringing out around them and only slightly muted by the mess of dark curls that threatens to cover Hook’s face.

He tries to blow it away, several times.

“Emma,” another voice says, tugging at the end of her jacket and it’s a little overwhelming to see her father’s eyes staring up at her. From a kid. Who isn’t very old, but feels like a memory she can’t place, and if her mind doesn’t stop piecing things together Emma is going to scream.

She doesn’t want to know.

Absolutely cannot cope, honestly.

“Emma,” he repeats, “if you and Killian are going to stay here for Christmas, can we make snowmen again? Because Henry said we could and Aunt Gina said she’d magic them so they wouldn’t melt and you’re way better at rolling than Mom is.” Someone huffs, Mary Margaret’s arms crossing over her chest and there’s an apron tied around her waist. Just to drive the domestic point home. “I resent that, and Dad is totally going to be better at rolling snowballs this year. He’s promised we’re going to win.” Emma’s mouth drops. In confusion, and several other adjectives. All of which Hook quite clearly recognizes, and that’s messing with her too.

Reading her as well as he does should leave her feeling off-kilter. Reeling, even. It doesn’t. It’s like some sort of metaphorical anchor, and Emma finds herself constantly glancing over her shoulder, hoping for that one specific tilt of his lips and— “Let’s wait to go over rules until Henry gets here, alright mate? Don’t want to get into specifics when he’s going to have his own demands.”

Opening his mouth, the kid’s argument disappears once Mary Margaret makes another noise, adding a soft “Neal,” and only one of Emma’s knees bends. That’s lame. Very un-Savior like.

And she doesn’t know how Killian manages it, either. She also does not care. Leaning into the hand that’s suddenly cemented to her back, Emma nods like someone has asked her a question, and there are more footsteps and smiles and she bites her tongue. David doesn’t disappear. He’s here. In this place he shouldn’t be, some sort of farm that had an almost kitschy mat outside that screen door and chickens lingering along the side of the front yard, and Killian’s voice is in her ear. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” “I’ll kick you,” Emma warns.

“I’d drop the sea monster that way.” She’s just about to ask the wholly unnecessary question of who the fuck is the sea monster when the beast in question tries very hard to stand on Hook's shoulders. All limbs and hair in desperate need of a cut, both Mary Margaret and David look overjoyed by her mere presence, warmth blooming of its own volition in Emma’s chest. “Mama,” she yells, resting her chin on top of Killian’s head, “are you going to magic the snowmen too?”

More than one pair of eyes flash towards Emma, suddenly frozen with a maelstrom of fear and words echoing between her ears and she’s got to talk. She can’t talk. Her tongue is growing in her mouth, no doubt a byproduct of that now occurring insanity, and her own eyes keep moving. Tracing over the lines of her daughter’s face, and the questionably cute clothes she’s wearing and her eyes are almost alarmingly blue.

Tears fall on Emma’s cheeks.

“Emma,” David mutters, but she barely hears him. Reaching out a hand that’s shaking much more than she’d like, her fingers graze Hope’s cheek and the skin there is soft and warm and obviously loved, like that’s something that’s possible. This new reality doesn’t have any rules, though. So maybe that works here.

She must nod. Emma’s hair moves, so that’s got to mean something and she’s clinging to every victory she can get at this point. “I’ll try,” Emma says, not quite the promise she'd like it to be. Hook's fingers twist under the hem of her shirt, grazing across her actual spine and it’s disappointing when she tenses.

Noticeably.

David’s eyes turn appraising — but he doesn’t immediately look at Mary Margaret like Emma expects. He glances at Hook, a quick jerk of his shoulders that she only notices when they bump hers. “Did you hear about the knights, then?” “Ariel accosted us on our way here. What do they want, exactly?” “As far as I can tell, they’re just scouting, but who knows with those Camelot idiots.” Mary Margaret scoffs. David might actually blush. “I’m going to go out and talk to them now, and Snow sent a bird.” The hand at Emma’s back flattens. So as to keep her upright.

“Lance usually responds quickly,” Mary Margaret says, “but you know the cross-realm travel, it’s always hit or miss. Especially with the weather. Hopefully we’ll know what they’re doing sooner rather than later.” Humming in what sounds like agreement, Hook shifts Hope and keeps Emma pulled against his side. His eyes dart back towards David, an unspoken conversation Emma doesn’t entirely want to hear. When it’s obviously about her.

And her father doesn’t respond either, just crosses the space between them and kisses her cheek. “Everything’s going to be ok, kid.”

“Yuh huh,” she mumbles, but it sounds like a lie and Hope falls asleep with her head on Hook's shoulder while they walk home.

It takes her about three seconds to realize she used that word as well.

And then another fifteen to totally freak out about it.

As silently as possible.

To his credit, he doesn’t press the issue. He stares, without much subtlety — but Hook never comes out and accuses Emma of anything, or questions how little she knows about this life they’ve got, and she’s not entirely surprised when he doesn’t ask when she’s coming to bed. He just takes a deep breath, and kisses the top of her hair again, which is somewhere like the ninth time that’s happened, walking up the stairs and presumably waiting for Emma.

In their bed.

They share. Together. As people. Married people, with a very cute kid and Henry’s in some other version of the Enchanted Forest with his wife, which is only marginally screwing with Emma. That’s positive, she thinks. Marginally is better than totally.

But it’s also not her life, and around twelve forty-seven she starts to wonder if she’s fucked with the Emma that’s supposed to be here by waking up on that couch, and she can’t get over how comfortable that couch was, and she starts walking.

Aimlessly, really.

Down halls and from room to room, opening doors that regularly make breathing a legitimate challenge. Henry’s old room clearly hasn’t been changed, and Hope’s hair covers her entire pillow, much like Emma’s regularly does, and they’ve got an actual sitting room and family room, a nautical theme that feels a little to on the nose, but is also somehow perfect and she knows he’s there before he says anything.

“You’re lurking,” Emma accuses, jumping onto the edge of the kitchen counter now that she’s finished her patrol.

“And you’re admittedly freaking me out just a bit.” Her laugh does that bubble thing again, something that Killian could probably claim ownership over if he wanted. She knows he won’t, though. Not this version. Not this guy, staring at her like he’s torn between terrified and terrorizing, like he’d challenge the timeline to a duel if needs be.

“Where’s your sword?” “In the basement. Where it’s been for years.” “You don’t use your sword much?” Taking a step forward, the floor creaks under his sock-covered feet and the realization that he must have put socks back on at some point does what Emma can only imagine is irreparable damage to more than half a dozen internal organs. “Asking that adds to my growing pile of suspicions and worries.” “The freaked out ones?” “Aye,” he nods, hand and hook resting on her hips. Maybe there are magnets there. Maybe he’s just hardwired to touch her. Emma fists her hands. “Why are you surprised by that?” “If I ask you a question will you totally freak out more?” That time he shakes his head. Hair shifts in the process, and there have to be magnets involved. That’s the only reasonable explanation for how quickly Emma’s fingers find the strands, brushing them away and relishing the exact way Killian’s eyes flutter shut and—damn, she did it again. His hand tightens.

Like he’s nervous she’s going to disappear otherwise.

“Question for a question is breaking conversational rules,” he starts, “But—” “—You’re a pirate?” “Something that’s been well-documented. What do you want to know?” Everything seems unacceptably vast, and Emma’s not sure which question to pick when they’re all weighing down on her still too-large tongue, but Killian’s eyes don’t pull away from her and he turns his head into her palm. The one cupping his cheek.

She’s an absolute disaster. Which is, she’ll argue the exact reason, she asks: “Are you in love with me?” He doesn’t laugh. More credit to him, although this credit comes with an asterisk for the exact way his expression shatters. In slow motion. For maxim effect. Muscles in his throat shift when he swallows, the tip of his tongue darting between barely-parted lips, and his next inhale has a distinct shuddering quality to it.

“More than I knew I could be,” he whispers. “You want to tell me the truth now?” “About?

Bending his neck, Killian’s exhale brushes Emma’s cheek and for one absolutely insane moment, that would make sense if they were actually married, she thinks he’s going to kiss her. He doesn’t. Figures. Lips graze the edge of hers, sending shockwaves that ripple up her spine and threaten to make magic explode from the tips of her fingers and she has to close her eyes. At the force of his voice, steady despite the emotion behind it.

“Who are you, really?” The shockwaves disappear. Turn into fear, and something ice-cold and Emma has to blink.

“What?” He clicks his tongue. More than once, in obvious reproach, and she wonders if she’ll have to walk to the plank at some point, the tip of his hook threatening to dig into her skin. “I’ll ask you once more, darling. It’s very good magic, whatever you’re doing. I can feel it, but—” “—You can feel my magic?” “Stop talking,” he sneers, and the symmetry of it all feels like a slap. Several times over. “Now either you tell me the truth, or I’ll have to do something drastic. Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #but once a year #festive fic a thon 2k20 #i really will fill those other prompts now i promise #sorry i'm such a constant and consistent flake internet #also! this is apparently the 40th captain swan work of mine on ao3 #which is slightly skewed since there are so many collections but still #that's a heck of a lotta words #thanks for reading em

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 3 years

Text

Humans Adopt a Combat SecUnit

A random one-shot about a horrible moment during a hypothetical hostile takeover. A one-shot with no real ending. Angst. You’ve been warned.

Now on AO3 for the same reason I put anything there, because finding it here is rocket surgery.

(Cass)

The attack came out of nowhere.

One minute, Kris and I had been sitting at a cafe and discussing the logistics of our next cargo run and the next, several dozen armed men stormed the office building across the street.

Mayhem erupted around us. Cafe patrols tried to flee only to meet the business end of large guns. Several constructs in heavy armor stomped past us and up the building steps. A grenade destroyed the front entrance entire, flinging dust and smoke into the air. The air circulation systems struggled to keep up. It was getting harder to breathe with each passing moment.

Suddenly, a group of soldiers rushed out of the building, through smoke and frames and began indiscriminately shooting at attackers and civilians alike. Kris yanked me by the arm to hide under our table, but it proved to be minimal cover against the hail of bullets flying overhead.

What ended up saving both our lives was a SecUnit, one of the combat-ready models. It took a defensive position between us and the battle, and remained there until the shooting had largely ceased. At the time, I didn’t know why it had chosen that course of action because it was so damn unexpected.

Security Units sometimes protect people — when they’re contracted to do so — but the Combat Units are intended for only one thing: taking down enemies. This one stood in front of us and took more damage than was reasonable. By the time the worst had passed, the bot-human hybrid looked worse for the wear. Its armor was dented in a dozen places, and it was bleeding from several projectile wounds. It had also gotten burned in several areas with short-range energy blasts.

“We have to go,” Kris practically yelled in my ear over all the noise. “This is insane. Hostile takeovers shouldn’t target civilian places.”

I nodded and tried not to think about the wanton death and destruction happening fifteen feet away. “What about the Unit?”

My companion gave me a searching look. “I don’t know that we can do anything. It probably has orders.”

“SecUnit,” I called out to the tall construct. It wore armor from head to toe, but enough of it was destroyed that I could see metal and light-brown skin underneath.

It turned in our direction. Its helmet was still functional but the opaque faceplate had shattered at some point. Blue-green eyes regarded us from a blank, neutral face that betrayed none of the pain the construct had be feeling.

“Come with us,” I said as I crawled out from under the table and looked around.

“What?” Kris looked horrified.

I ignored my co-pilot for a moment. “SecUnit, your armor is destroyed. You should remove it before it causes you damage.”

The horror of the situation was seeping in by then, panic replacing the initial numbness. Kris had been in war zones before, had even participated in several takeovers, before making hauling his current profession. I imagined he knew what he was doing.

All I knew is that we needed to leave and it was imperative we take the person who just saved our lives with us. The SecUnit pulled off its armor — some of which had all kinds of razor sharp edges curtesy of all the shooting — and underneath it looked a lot more like a human being than I’d anticipated.

Not that I had much experience in this area; I’d never seen a construct up close before.

Kris tugged at my arm and started moving along the edge of the coffee shop toward an alley. I resisted until the SecUnit followed a moment later.

Somehow, all three of us managed to make it to the mouth of the alleyway without further injuries. I was coughing up a lung because of all the smoke — the air scrubbers could handle a lot, but this was ridiculous. Kris knew what to do, though, I trusted him with my life.

(Combat SecUnit)

I had failed at achieving my mission objectives, and I could no longer connect to my handler.

The two events had not been simultaneous, but the quick succession was enough to feel concerning. My organic neural tissue was sending up error codes I couldn't interpret.

I chose my position primarily to get a better vantage point on the small-scale skirmish occurring in front of the ShoreCross office building. Infiltrating the facility was my primary objective, but it no longer appeared to be feasible, much less applicable.

When the shooting began, I considered moving. Even without a handler to direct me, I have enough self-preservation instincts to not stand in direct line of fire. But there were two unaffiliated humans behind me, and if I moved, they would die.

My handler should've made the judgment call about staying or leaving. Those kinds of choices were outside my permissible range of decisions, but she was not responding. My communication device was otherwise functional, and the feed remained stable in the area despite the commotion. Her presence was completely absent in its normal places inside my head, and it did not appear to be a malfunction on my part.

When the shooting briefly paused, the two humans made a smart but risky decision to evacuate. My own assessment supported this course of action. I had taken more damage than advisable, and while none of it was catastrophic, I would need access to a repair cubicle for most of the injuries.

So, the human's instruction to remove my destroyed armor came as a complete surprise. Her further request that I come with them, even more so. My governor didn't much care who gave the orders so long as it was a direct request. It was completely up to my handler to override irrelevant commands and choose who to ignore.

When the humans moved, I followed them after discarding what little remained of my armor. I had a large projectile weapon, which I also left behind because I had no way of storing it and moving with it was cumbersome. My in-built weapons would suffice should I find myself in a firefight, and if that happened, I was unlikely to survive the experience.

The male human (feed name: Kristos) led the way. He paused when we reached a small alleyway and peeked inside. It was empty. I knew as much because I had hacked the local feed before arrival, a necessary measure to ensure I wouldn't be caught or surprised.

"Are you all right?" the female human (feed name: Cass) asked me.

I nodded. As best as I understood the question, I was not experiencing any significant malfunctions and my pain sensors were down in the 50% range, so I was not in any significant pain, either.

"Good," she said, and then reached out and took my hand. "Stay close. We'll cut through here and then head straight to the transit ring. The safest place we can be right now is on a ship. Ours, specifically."

I obeyed the command and followed them closely, but my threat assessment did not like this course of action. The humans would indeed be safer on their ship. Weapons could not be discharged anywhere on the transit ring. However, without my handler, my own mental state would deteriorate rapidly. I should be nowhere near any humans when this occurred.

Unfortunately, communicating this to the humans was complicated. There are very few things I'm permitted to say. I was willing to risk governor punishment but couldn't come up with a short enough explanation that I could provide it before being zapped.

This unit is not constructed to function independently of a human handler, I told them. That was a response in my buffer, usually reserved for when someone attempted to a request that required too many decision points.

Cass turned to look at me, her expression grim. "Is your handler somewhere close? Are you able to return to them?"

Unknown, I answered. It was not the most polite response, and my governor quickly reminded me of the error, but it was almost more than I could manage.

Kris spoke several curses in three distinct languages under his breath in quick succession. "That's why you were standing there, wasn't it? Fucking hell. This complicates things. Just keep following us for now, and we'll figure something out."

Turning to his companion, he added, "It's a Combat model. Its mental state is dependent on the constant tweaking and monitoring of its human handler. Without a handler, it's going to go crazy."

"What?" Cass glanced at me but her focus was on Kris. "Why the fuck would someone do that?"

"Because when you make a dangerous tool, you put in a lot of safeguards to keep it from slipping its leash." The human stopped just long enough to make sure our path was clear, then continued moving. "There's a reason most polities don't permit the use or creation of constructs."

The horrified expression on Cass' face surprised me. Most humans I had met feared constructs, and her behavior didn't line up with my expectations.

"Almost there," the woman told me as we exited the station mall and headed down to the embarkation zone. "Just a little longer."

---

(Combat SecUnit)

The humans walked with me through the embarkation zone as though it was a perfectly normal course of action. I knew from experience that SecUnits were not permitted in the human-occupied areas of most stations, but I suspected neither Cass nor Kris knew this. A weapons scanner drone stopped us near their ship's loading dock, but Kris explained that I was their cargo, and a human supervisor overrode the panicky drone.

Once inside the ship, both humans visibly relaxed.

Cass led the way to the control room of the ship and guided me toward an empty seat. I stood next to it until she gave me a direct order to sit down. Meanwhile, Kris directed one of the local news channels from the feed to a large display surface mounted to one of the walls of the bridge. Coverage of the 'unprovoked' attack on ShoreCross played in the background while the humans coordinated their next step in preparation for departure.

I continued to sit while my internal world slowly crumbled. When it became hard to name the humans or distinguish my current position, I said, It may be prudent to secure this unit before it malfunctions further. I had never used this buffer message before, but it was the closest to what I wanted to communicate. Emotional and mental cohesion, both of which were necessary to successfully complete mission, frayed around the edges.

Kris glanced up at me from where he was leaning over a control panel and reading information off to the local traffic controller. "Best to do what it says for now."

"I've almost got this figured out," Cass complained. "Shit, I think I'm the only one with enough augments of the right type to even attempt this. I know it's not your fault, SecUnit, but your humans really did a number on you."

She got up from where she'd been seated on the floor, connected directly into the mechanical brain of the hauler, and came over to me. "Let's get you comfortable, all right?"

"It might fight you if it thinks its cornered and it can't think straight," the co-pilot warned.

I looked up at the human. She wore a deep frown on her soft, dark face as she inputted commands into the controls of the smart chair where I was currently sitting. It readjusted to fit my longer frame, suggesting that normally Kris sat here. Cass maneuvered me into position, so I leaning back with my feet slightly off the floor and situated comfortably in the seat's foot rests.

Once she had me where she wanted me, the chair did the rest automatically. Thick, durable straps wrapped around my arms, torso, and legs effectively restraining me. According to the specifications available in the feed, the system was intended to keep a human from falling out of the piloting chair during high-impact maneuvers. It was more than strong enough to keep me from hurting myself or the humans.

Despite knowing better, I fought against the restraints. I understood that doing so would cause me further injury and that they existed to keep my humans — I thought of these humans as mine — safe. But there was a disconnect between reality and my fractured mind that I couldn't seem to bridge.

Cass put her hand on my chest and started talking in a soft, quiet voice. By this point, I had trouble understanding what she was saying, but the hand helped. As did the warm blanket she draped over me and the pillow under my head. Consciousness came and went.

#murderbot #fanfiction #original character #combat secunit #angst

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fishmongeringstudies · 3 years

Text

eighteen ways to forgive yourself and one reason to try

anyone who had the happy misfortune of speaking to me in the last three months has probably, at some point, been treated to my now-established signature monologue about how my skin is clear, my crops are thriving, and the body living in my closet finally rotted away and was picked apart and carried off by ants. many facets of my life in the spring contributed to this impression. i was eating edible things. i was actively meeting people. i was waking up at the crackass of dawn (a/n: seven a.m.) and going for morning runs and drinking strawberry smoothies which cost even more than the disappointingly expensive boost smoothies of my early childhood. most of these things are, i understand, normal. i am under the impression that the average human being often meets other human beings at places with food and spends significant lengths of time conversing with them. but i am not like the other girls. i am not a girl. i am your coffee machine.

the problem with those freaky little before-and-after narratives that started as a trend on instagram and have since been adopted into the way we narrate our lives as a whole is that for the narrative to work, the before and after have to be really, really far away from each other. in order to create this distance, influencers have historically attacked the earth with shovels, construction vehicles, and shaving razors. but apart from the cost of renting a supersized claw machine and subsequently hiring someone to sit in it, one must also ask the question: why are you digging to begin with?

all of which is to say that i'm bored. i'm bored of being a freaky little human being. i no longer care if i go for weeks at a time without talking to anyone, and i fully intend to go for weeks at a time without talking to anyone because priorities shift, and last thursday (arbitrary) a bunch of mine tripped off the edge of the table and fell into the gutter and died. luckily we have a new gutter now and new earth around it, new flowers, new trees. terraforming in animal crossing is a privilege one unlocks after you trick k.k. slider into visiting your island. i have yet to unlock that achievement. for the time being, i am terraforming my soul.

what are this summer's priorities? priority one: not die from heatstroke (hard). priority two: write (less hard). you see this? there are no humans in this floor layout. i am trying to become god.

and that's what was wrong with spring. i thought spring was a step in the right direction, a step into the great unknown of self-care and personal improvement and half-an-hour-long white yoga mom meditation videos with ad breaks every three minutes. but it wasn't any of those things. i just got up one day and started walking in the other direction. around the same stupid houseplant. i have spent my whole life walking around this stupid houseplant.

metaphor: you spend your whole life walking around a houseplant. sometimes you see different parts of it and you think: wow, these are some cool leaves. other times you see wall and wall and wall and you think: wow, this is a wall. what i am trying to say is that life is both the cool leaves and the wall. life is many other things, too, like electric chainsaws and the niagara falls and half-baked cinnamon rolls which make you question the sanctity of life and specifically yours. life is not one photograph taken in front of marina bay sands in which your ass looks delicious and your skin is especially pink. life is falling out of the frame while trying to make your elbow look sexier than it's ever been before and tumbling down the stairs. life is breaking your leg.

in my happy spring monologue i told everyone i was miserable before i got to america, but things had changed and i was better now and would never live like that ever again. i was wrong. i didn't get better and i haven't gotten worse since spring left. i haven't gone anywhere. i'm still here with my fucked-up spine and my fucked-up sense of humor. a recent discovery: sometimes i want to spend every waking hour of my life in the presence of other people and happiness is the small conversations you have while waiting in line in the dining hall and every breath taken in the presence of another is a gift. other times i want to hole myself up in my room and hammer away at a google document until my fingernails fall off for ten weeks. sometimes i am lonely. other times i want to be alone.

before and after. yes and no. lies! social media is full of lies! i know this because i use social media. believe me. trust nothing you read on the internet.

today i wrote some, listened to podcasts some, and spent an ungodly amount of time on one of the same four puzzles i've been putting together and taking apart all summer. i didn't have a particularly enlightening conversation with anyone. fuck, i barely spoke to anyone at all. when i got bored of my puzzle i watched people wade through the sticky wet afternoon from my third-floor window. later on in the evening, two people met each other on the path leading up to my dorm. one of them took out their airpods and slipped them into their pocket, then held up their hand and waved. 'hi,' he probably said. his friend waved back. they paused for half a second to talk, two figures painted gold by a saccharine yellow sun, then gently parted ways.

life is beautiful. but life is beautiful no matter how you choose to live it. there is no way to optimize the human experience because humans have too many bones to keep track of. i am convinced some of mine go missing in the night and return at the crack of dawn (a/n: seven a.m.) before i wake, slipping into my open, snoring mouth and settling themselves back in their sockets. i am convinced that i have done nothing wrong.

spring was nice. i might have made something flower. i might have mowed one or two bodies down with a lawnmower. but this isn't singapore, this is america, and when you live in america, absurd as it may seem, the seasons actually change. spring died; i watched it happen. i was standing there when it took its last breath and the last of my people-loving peace vanished down the drain with it. spring died, and now making plans makes me anxious again. i'm inclined to horrible bouts of groundless negativity and being outside for longer than two hours at a time makes my head hurt. but i haven't taken any steps backwards, and i haven't fallen off a cliff. spring happened; i was there. i haven't lost the triumphs of spontaneity and fearlessness and joy and the long conversations had with people i no longer speak to. after all, i'm still walking around the same stupid houseplant in the same stupid apartment where the blinds in the kitchen are broken and the floorboards on the left side of the hallway creak and the houseplant in front of the speaker is dead but we all pretend it isn't anyway. it doesn't matter if you're standing in the storage room or on the living room balcony, watching people crawl like ants across the street below. it's still the same damn apartment. you're still the same damn clown. and you're killing it, babe, you're the star of the show.

06.07.21

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airiervessel · 4 years

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When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More with logince?

also combining this with an anon’s request of 57 and logince! // prompts are open! (list)

67. When one stops the kiss to whisper “i’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more 57. Breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that they’re murmuring into each other’s mouths

Word Count: 2241 Pairing: Logince Content: high school au (i’m imagining them as juniors or seniors? so they’re both 17 or 18), childhood best friends, asexual logan, so much pining, healthy discussions of feelings

Logan and Roman are best friends. Logan always acts awkward around their friends who are couples, and he has an asexual pride patch on his favorite jacket, alongside the various NASA and other nerdy patches he has all over it -- many of which Roman helped him sew on. Once, a couple of years ago, during a sleepover when they were staying up late talking about everything, he told Roman that he didn’t think he could ever see himself in a committed relationship. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to do it.

Logan and Roman are best friends. Logan isn’t interested in dating. Neither of these facts stopped Roman from falling head over heels in love with him.

He reminds himself every time he finds himself staring at Logan’s face, every time he realizes his heart is nearly beating out of his chest whenever Logan laughs. He pinches himself in the thigh when he feels Logan’s shoulder brush his, or when Logan’s hand passes over his as he reaches for a certain book or pen. He acts as normal as he can, flopping down dramatically onto the sofa next to Logan and throwing his legs over his lap like his stomach isn’t full of butterflies, and tries to ignore the way Logan’s fond eye roll and careful adjustment around Roman brings warmth to Roman’s cheeks.

Everything Logan does makes Roman’s heart sing, and he wants nothing more than to confess his feelings because this is the one thing Logan doesn’t know about him, the one secret he’s ever kept from his best friend.

They promised, once, at Logan’s ninth birthday party, never to keep secrets from each other again. Roman had helped Logan’s parents and brother plan a surprise party for him, and he had been so excited to see Logan’s face, to see his reaction when he walked in his house after school to find everyone gathered there, ready to celebrate with him. But Logan had been scared by the noise and the number of people and had run off to their treehouse in a panic, and Roman had followed him and helped calm him down from his first-ever panic attack.

After, when Logan was sniffling into Roman’s shoulder, he asked Roman to always warn him about parties in the future. “I can act surprised,” he whispers, his voice thick from the tears. “But you know I need to prepare to spend time around a bunch of people.”

Roman had pulled back and offered his pinky, his expression serious. “I promise to never keep a secret from you again, Logan,” he said, and Logan smiled and hooked their pinkies together.

“I promise too,” he replied, his expression so trusting and open, even after Roman’s surprise had hurt him so much.

Thinking about that exchange now makes Roman roll onto his back in his bed with a dramatic groan, covering his face with a pillow. Guilt burns in his stomach -- they’d promised never to keep secrets from each other, and here he is, two months after realizing he has romantic feelings for Logan, and he’s kept it to himself. He hasn’t told anyone, not his parents, not his other friends, not even his cat. The first person to learn important things about Roman has always been Logan, and it makes the guilt boiling in his gut even worse to think about sharing this secret with anyone besides his best friend.

He rolls onto his side, tugging the pillow down off his face and frowning at his stuffed Winnie the Pooh on the other side of his bed. He has to tell Logan. He can’t keep going like this -- the guilt is already eating him up inside. It rises like bile along with the butterflies that appear every time he looks at Logan, the confession burning at the back of his throat before he clamps down and swallows it back.

Roman is terrified of ruining what they have, of losing his best friend. But he can’t keep breaking their promise, either.

---------

His resolution to confess to Logan turns out to be much easier said than done, as so many things are. He comes close several times over the next week, when they’re at lunch in their favorite spot in the courtyard, when they’re hanging out in Logan’s room studying, when they’re leaving math class and Logan laughs at something Roman says. Several times a day, the words burn his mouth, but his tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of his mouth, and his vocal chords feel as though they’re tied into knots in his throat, and he can never say it.

It’s Friday evening, over a week after Roman’s decision to come clean about his feelings, and still he hasn’t done it. He and Logan are in his bedroom, Logan reading a chapter in their history textbook aloud as Roman works on his current cross-stitching project. He focuses on the needle in his hands, on poking it through the fabric over and over again, the mostly-mindless work with his hands and eyes helping him process the information Logan’s lovely voice is reading.

Logan stops, apparently having come to the end of the section, and Roman smiles even as he doesn’t look away from his stitching. “Alexander the Great sounds pretty awesome,” he says. “He actually listened to his men when they said they were ready to go home. That’s a pretty good leader, if you ask me.”

Logan usually argues with him on points like this, usually brings up some horrible thing the person did or the stupid way they died to counter Roman’s point, but he’s silent this time. Roman knows he’s not entirely right, knows Logan must have some kind of argument to make, so he looks up, turning his head to look at his best friend, tilting his head to the side in concern. “What’s up, Sir Nerds-a-Lot? You don’t usually let me admire historical figures without bringing up their flaws. Is anything wrong?”

Logan opens his mouth, then closes it, his eyebrows furrowed. Roman lowers his stitching to the bed and turns to face him fully, really concerned now. It’s rare that Logan is at a complete loss for words, and Roman is already running through the events of the afternoon, trying to find something that could have upset Logan.

“Specs? Are you-” he begins, but he’s cut off by a mouth on his -- by Logan’s mouth on his. Logan is kissing him.

Roman is so shocked he can’t even respond, his eyes wide open as his hands flutter uncertain over Logan’s shoulders. He can see one of Logan’s eyes squeezed shut, and just when Roman is about to melt into the kiss, Logan pulls away, already rambling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking, I-” but Roman cuts him off as well, taking Logan’s face gingerly in his hands and capturing his lips in another kiss.

And oh, is it amazing. He always wondered if the books were exaggerating when they described fireworks, but it really is like fireworks are going off in his chest, like bright spots of color are dancing behind his eyelids, like he’s never done and will never do anything as wonderful and amazing as kiss Logan Sanders. Logan’s arms wrap around his neck, his hands wrapping into Roman’s hair, and he hums into the kiss, feeling Logan shudder in response.

He finally pulls back slightly, though hardly puts any space between them, his lips still brushing Logan’s as he whispers into the small space between them. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time now,” he breathes, and his stomach does a flip when Logan chuckles quietly in response. He presses another kiss to Logan’s lips, and the other returns it for a moment before pulling back, further this time, and stroking his hand through Roman’s hair as he meets his eyes.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks, his expression open and so clearly happy that Roman has to look away, his eyes drifting to the side as something that feels suspiciously like shame crawls up his back, settling on his shoulders like a lead weight.

Logan’s thumb traces back and forth over his cheekbone, though, and he brings one of his own hands up to cover Logan’s closing his eyes and smiling slightly at the sensation. “I thought….you have the ace pin. You told me that one time that you didn’t think you could ever be in a relationship. I thought you weren’t interested.” He turns his head slightly, pressing a feather-light kiss to Logan’s palm before opening his eyes, his lips still brushing Logan’s skin as he continues. “I didn’t want to ruin anything. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Now it’s Logan’s turn to look away, looking sheepish. “When I said that….” he clears his throat, and Roman squeezes his shoulder where his free hand is resting on it. Logan looks back at him and smiles, seeming encouraged. “I didn’t mean that I did not want a relationship. I have, in fact, wanted one very badly for several years. With you, specifically.”

Roman lets out a gasp at that, tightening his grip on Logan’s hand. “Lo…” he breathes, amazed that Logan’s felt that way about him for so long.

(Then again, Logan has always been a genius, has always picked up on things faster than Roman, or anyone else, for that matter.)

Logan strokes his thumb over Roman’s cheekbone again, looking amazed that he’s being allowed to do it. “When I said that, I was actually speaking of my belief of my own inability to properly perform in a relationship. Being in a relationship with someone...it requires a great deal of emotional intelligence, which we both know that I do not possess. And…” he trails off again, looking away and pulling his hands away from Roman, who ardently wishes he would do anything but that.

“And as you said, I am asexual. I would be….unable to. Perform. In that capacity. If we were to date.” Logan looks at his lap, clasping his hands together there and looking as if he’s about to cry.

“Logan,” Roman chokes out, leaning forward and taking Logan’s face in his hands once again, tilting it up gently and stroking it with his thumbs as Logan just did for him. “Logan, I-” his voice breaks, and he leans his forehead against Logan’s, feeling the other’s hands resting lightly on his waist as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to sift through the roiling emotions in his chest.

After a moment, he opens his eyes to meet Logan’s, one of his hands moving to brush his hair back, cradling his head as he leans back slightly, just enough so he doesn’t have to go cross-eyed to maintain eye contact.

“I love you,” he says finally, his voice and heart barreling forward even as his mind struggles to catch up, as usual. “I love you just as you are, and all that you are. I would never-” his voice breaks again here, and he shakes his head, stroking Logan’s hair back again. “I would never make you do anything, anything, that you’re not comfortable with,” he finishes in a whisper. “I would love to be with you in any way that you’ll have me, whether it’s as a best friend, or a boyfriend, or a partner, or...or if you want to--to never see me again, that’s okay too,” his voice cracks once again, and this time tears spill out of his eyes and down his cheeks.

Logan’s hands fly up to wipe them away, and his head is already shaking in Roman’s gentle grip. “No, no, no, I--of course I want to see you again, you idiot, you’re my...you’re my Roman.”

Roman can’t help but laugh wetly at that, and Logan surges up to kiss him again, and they fall silent for a few moments. When they pull back, Logan resumes wiping at Roman’s face, his expression soft. “I love you too,” he whispers. “And I’m yours. In any way you’ll have me.”

Roman laughs and kisses him again, pecking him three, four, five times on the lips, then all over his face, drawing giggles out of Logan as Roman moved down to blow a raspberry on his neck.

Later, they’ll order a pizza for dinner, and sit on Roman’s bed eating it and talking about everything they’ve always talked about, and everything they’ve never talked about. They’ll discuss their own boundaries, and who they want to tell about the relationship, and who’s going to plan their first date. Roman will joke about celebrating anniversaries weekly, and will immediately resolve to do it when he sees how the idea makes Logan blush.

Later, Roman’s parents will come home and find Logan there much later than usual, and they’ll see how the two of them smile at each other and know that they finally worked things out.

Later, they’ll fall asleep with Big Hero 6 playing in the background, snuggled close together under Roman’s comforter.

But that’s all for later. For now they laugh, and kiss, and tickle each other, and bask in the glow of the new step of their relationship.

Logan and Roman are best friends. They both spent a long time believing their feelings for each other are unrequited, that saying something would ruin their relationship forever. They were both wrong.

#logince #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #i think i'm most proud of this one so far tbh #ellie writes #fics #this one is more than twice the length of the other ones #but it's also two prompts so oh well i guess

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