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idle-daydreams · 5 months

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Howl

[Diviner!Kunikida x Yokai!Reader]

Tw: Slow-burn yandere, obsession, kidnapping, dub-con

[A.N: This was supposed to be for Halloween. My procrastination levels are *chef's kiss*]

The reports said that it was a yokai epidemic. Spirits taking on the form of beautiful women to seduce the locals and feed upon their energies. As a young but promising Onmyoji at court, Kunikida was sent in to deal with the mess.

Kunikida wasn’t too happy about this. For one thing, it cut into his already established schedule. “But I must do my job,” he told himself as he set off. The journey was long, the road hard; and when Kunikida arrived, he found the locals scared and mistrustful of “the man from the capital”. Ignoring this lack of a warm welcome – welcomes were irrelevant to his job, after all – he set about gathering information, determining that the yokai were likeliest to appear in the surrounding forest late at night.

And so that night, as the full moon rose, Kunikida set off into the forest.

The chittering and cries of woodland creatures filled the air; the rustle and sigh of the trees set his teeth on edge. He could appreciate the beauty of nature as much as the next man, but the fact was obvious that finding anything in there would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

“I mustn't let petty things bother me,” he told himself sternly. “My job is to protect the locals from the yokai. If it takes time, then so be it.”

A faint sound came to his ears, different from the muted din of the forest. It was laughter. Women’s laughter.

Kunikida paused, ears prickling. There was the faint splashing of water, the murmur of the breeze... and another silvery peal of laughter from his right.

Dropping to his haunches, he crept along towards the source of the sound. Beyond a tall thicket was a large clearing with a small pond. Several women sat in a circle upon the dew-strewn grass, laughing and playing with a silver ball.

Yokai.

They couldn’t be anything else. Their skin was translucent, their shining hair loose, their nails a little too long to be normal. Kunikida drew a sharp breath and made to begin the dispelling incantation. But before he could do so, the yokais’ heads snapped towards him. Quick as a flash, they fled into the forest.

“Damn it!”

Kunikida chased after them. They’d run off in different directions, so he chose the one at random, reciting the incantation under his breath. Something caught at his foot, however, sending him crashing to the ground. A shadow fell over him. He looked up. One of the yokai stood over him, draped in a blood-red kimono.

You.

Your hair shadowed your face, your eyes gleaming with a strange light. Before Kunikida could do anything - before he could move or even think - you leaned over him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

Time stopped.

Your lips were soft and sweet against his, as delicate as a rosebud in its first bloom. You smelled of sandalwood and spices, overpowering his senses. The world darkened for a minute, fading away before your beauty and brilliance; he closed his eyes, letting the ecstasy take him.

When he opened his eyes, you were gone.

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

Kunikida returned to his quarters in a daze.

‘It seems that the yokai got the best of me,’ he wrote in his notebook, as the rising sun lightened the skies. ‘Everything after the... encounter is a blur. I must be more wary of them in the future.’

Then he closed his notebook and sat staring out the window.

He could remember everything quite vividly - your scent, the colour of your hair, the feel of his skin against his own. His cheeks reddened even now as he recalled just how sweet the kiss had felt. The villagers had given him a place at the very edge of the village, little more than a shack that overlooked the forest. As he eyed the trees, he imagined you kissing another man that same way.

Irritation pricked at him, sudden and sharp. He bit his lip and reopened his notebook.

‘The locals are in grave danger,’ he wrote. ‘Until these yokai are expelled. It could be that the woman I met - the yokai I met - was preternaturally strong, but until there is evidence to the contrary, I must assume her strength as an average of their power. And... she did have power. I can still feel her enchantment upon me. I have the training to understand it for what it is, but others may not be so lucky.’

He closed his notebook again, tracing the “Ideal” written on the cover. Kunikida didn’t want anyone to get hurt, not when he could stop the cause. Yet for some reason, coming face to face with you terrified him in a way few things ever had. He’d faced demons before, but never once had they held any sway upon him.

“It is only an enchantment,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. “I should cleanse myself, and cast more wards to protect myself against future attacks. Running away is not an option, of course.”

But an entire morning performing prayers and rituals did little to drive you from his thoughts. By midday, he irritably decided that he’d done enough to protect himself, and stomped off into the forest to begin tracking you and your friends down. He searched and searched and searched, driven by a manic energy he couldn’t quite explain - he tried to convince himself that it was only his impatience, but some other emotion lingered at the back of his mind that he didn’t want to think about - until the sun disappeared and the moon reigned over the sky. Sweaty and exhausted, Kunikida came to an old torii and sank down upon the steps leading up to the shrine.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed. “Her signs are everywhere.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Kunikida tensed, then turned. There, up on the steps framed by the full moon, you stood triumphant.

“Hello,” you called. You’ve returned, Diviner.”

“I have,” he said, ignoring the fluttering in his heart.

“Come back for a more?”

“No.” His face heated up. “I am here to banish you and your friends to the Underworld.”

Really?”

There was a teasing note in your voice. Kunikida’s heart skipped a beat, and he clutched the talisman under his shirt. You were working your power on him again. He could feel it, by the way his heart was drawn to yours. “Enough of this,” he said, raising his hand to perform the necessary mudra.

“Sounds like entirely too much effort.”

You came closer, a coy smile playing about your lips. You were just as lovely as he remembered, a being of moonlight and the autumn air; he wanted to reach out and touch you, to see if you were real or a figment of his imagination. Reluctance seized him, making him pause his chant.

“Stay back,” he said, his throat dry. “I am not afraid of you.”

“I don’t think its fear that’s stopping you.”

You brushed your knuckles against his cheek. Kunikida tilted his head towards your hand, taking in the warmth and pressure of your skin against his own. Slowly, gently, even unwillingly, he reached up and cupped your hand with his own.

“Come with me,” you whispered, taking his hand.

It was wrong. Kunikida knew it was wrong. But a veil of madness seemed to have descended upon his mind, clouding it with a miasma of delight. Vaguely, he was aware of you leading him away into the forest; then, your arms were around his neck, your lips on his, your body pressed against his own. Your tongue darted into his mouth, and he moaned.

He let you push him to the ground, straddling him. Swiftly, you slipped off your kimono, allowing him to gaze greedily upon your unclothed form.

“This is wrong,” he whispered.

“Hush,” you said, placing your hands upon his bare chest. “Do you want me?”

He looked at you. “Yes.”

You smiled and let him take you.

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

It became a routine, a secret, shameful addiction. Every night, Kunikida would return, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Each night, he would surrender himself to you, losing himself in a haze of ecstasy and delight that lasted until morning. All that passed in between was a blur - your body beneath him, your head thrown back, your body writhing with pure, unadulterated pleasure - dreams more suited to a teenage boy than a full-grown man. He would press entreaties and hopes upon your skin, babbling to you for hours about his ideals, his hopes and his dreams, all those things that he would never reveal to other humans.

During the mornings, however, shame would overwhelm him. He was failing his duty, failing the people who’d placed his trust upon him. He would spend hours praying and trying to cleanse himself, even while thoughts of you danced around in his mind. On top of that, his strength was failing, reminding him that no matter how soft and sweet you seemed, you were still a yokai feeding off of him. But through the shame and self-loathing, a darker side of him started to emerge. A part that no longer cared about his failing duty, that was proud of the fact that you fed upon him alone. The thought of you taking another lover made his blood boil.

‘I need to put a stop to all of it,’ he wrote feverishly in his notebook. ‘These women – these yokai – they cannot be allowed to harm the people any longer. I cannot allow it.’

But at the same time, he didn’t want it all to end. When was the last time he’d ever felt this happy – this alive? You were everything. The beat in his veins, the breath in his lungs, the fire in his heart. You made him feel alive, in a way no one else ever could.

A dark thought began to coalesce in head, one that scared him to even put on paper.

“You’ve been here a while now,” you said to him one night as the two of you lay upon the forest floor. “The moon was full the first night we met, and its full now. I thought you wanted to banish me and my sisters, Diviner?’

“I did,” Kunikida said slowly, gazing up at the sky. “You know full well what you’re doing, [Y/N].”

“I didn’t realize just how good I am,” you said with a small laugh. “But really, if you can’t handle it, then you should go back to the capital. You won’t last long if you stay with me.”

“Why?” he said with a sudden twinge of panic. “Are you tired of me? Is there someone else whose energy you prefer?”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you said quickly, ruffling his hair. “But if you stay with me any longer, you’ll die. I don’t want that.”

“No?”

His heart soared at your words. But you simply shrugged and continued. “Me and my sisters... we don’t want to kill humans, we don’t hate them. But humans are too frail, they die too easily. Its an unfortunate reality of this world.”

Kunikida propped himself up on one elbow to look at you. You were still as beautiful as ever, but there was more to you now: you were graceful, kind and understanding, beyond what any human woman could ever hope to be.

Ideal. You were his ideal woman.

And you wanted to leave him.

“Even if you don’t voluntarily kill them, you’re still a threat,” he said, pursing his lips. “I can’t leave until I banish you all.”

“Then do it.”

“What?”

You shrugged. “This world isn’t fun any more. Its too grey, too depressing. And like I said, humans are too fragile. I-” you took his hand, pressing it to your chest- “will miss you. But if you care about me, please give me and my sisters with safe passage to the Underworld.”

No. No, no, no. Kunikida wanted to scream. He opened his mouth, then paused upon noting the troubled look in your eyes. “I see,” he said instead, schooling his face into a mask of indifference.

“Are you all right with that?” you asked.

“I’ll be fine. I just... wish you hadn’t tired of me.”

“Kunikida-”

“I will do what you ask,” he interrupted. “Just give me till tomorrow. Its the full moon, right? It’ll be a good night for the ceremony.”

You fell silent, but he could see the relief in your eyes. Revulsion roiled within him at what he had become, but he was too far gone to back down now.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “I will open the gates to the Underworld.”

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

You felt nervous. Your sisters milled about inside the shrine, just where you’d promised Kunikida you’d be. Though the autumn moon was full tonight, its full splendour was masked by the clouds - a bad omen if you’d ever saw one.

He had to be here. You didn’t know how to get to the Underworld by yourself, an oversight you were bitterly regretting now. There was much to regret about your ill-planned excursion, the chief of which was your dalliance with Kunikida. He was a strong Diviner, with an iron will; far more than what you’d thought you could handle.

There were footsteps outside. Tension tightened in your stomach like a bowstring. Kunikida appeared in the door, and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Kunikida,” you said, hurrying to him. “Thank you for coming.”

“I said that I would be here,” he answered. “You need my help, don’t you.”

His face was pale and hard, his expression set. Looking at him, you felt another twinge of anxiety. “Are you sure you will be all right?” you asked. “We’ve had a rather intense time together.”

“I’ll be fine.” He gestured for you to join your sisters. You went to them, watching him in silence as he began the ritual to open the gates of the Underworld. You still weren’t sure of his feelings - Kunikida was difficult to read, even for a human. One moment he could be soft and kind, the stoic and harsh. Either way, you were glad to be going home.

A blinding light emanated from the floor as the gates began to open. Your sisters cheered up, hurrying to pass to the other side. You made to pass through as well, when Kunikida called out to you.

“[Y/N]”

You paused and looked at him. There was raw pain etched upon his face.

“I’m sorry,” you said, helplessly. “I wish we hadn’t come here. I wish I hadn’t put you through everything. You weren’t supposed to, you know. Most people are so badly affected by being around us that they don’t even think of crossing our path again.”

“I know.” He held out his hand. “Just... please let me touch you one more time.”

You hesitated. Surely no harm could come from that? Cautiously, you reached out to him, intending to do no more than to pat his hand.

He grabbed your wrist.

The gate slammed shut.

Darkness fell as the light was cut off.

“What—agh!”

You scream as plain lancinated up your arm, spreading through your body in wracking waves. You collapsed to your knees, barely able to think or scream, as your power was ripped from you.

“I’m sorry.” Kunikida knelt next to you, his expression pained. “But I had to do what was necessary.”

Wrenching your eyes away from him to his hand. There was a small woodblock stamp hidden in his palm, a binding symbol carved upon it. There was a corresponding symbol stamped upon your wrist.

“You—” you grimaced. “You’ve bound me.”

“I have.” Quickly, he wrenched your kimono off of you. “I’m sorry, but I cannot let you go. You have to stay with me forever.”

“I—”

“I will not allow anything else.”

He pulled a rough, homespun robe upon your shoulders. Human clothes. As the pain began to subside, the realization of what he was doing – of what he’d done – dawned upon you..

“No.” You weakly tried to push him away, tears welling in your eyes. “No, I won’t let you!”

“Let me?” Kunikida’s expression hardened. Pain flared once again in your head, making you scream. “There isn’t anything you can do to stop me.”

“But why? I thought you wanted to be rid of me!”

He shook his head, eyes dark, pulling into a smothering embrace. “[Y/N], I love you. I never want to be rid of you again.”

#yandere kunikida #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #yandere imagines

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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

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Eyes of the Devil

Summary: Pietro finds someone faster than him and you find your missing piece.

Warnings: violence, curse words, angst?, fluff

Reader: I wrote this with the reader being a male but it could be read as gender neutral; Male Vampire Reader

Pairings: Pietro x Male Vampire Reader (Gender Neutral); Laura Barton x Male Vampire Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 3,312

A/n: Reader speaks Slavic. According to Google Translate = Moja duša - My soul. Malá holubica - Little dove. Malý - Little one.... I plan on doing more one shots in relation to this one. I wouldn’t really call it a series just a collection of random one shots with Pietro and this type of reader. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in them or if you have a request for a specific one shot you wanna see. This one shot was really just a starter for those future one shots coming.

Masterlist

If you were being honest, you didn’t know how old you were. You knew you were at least a few millennia’s old but after the first thousand years, who cares to keep track?

You also knew that life could get very boring if you didn’t spice things up a little bit. Being a part time Avenger did just the thing for you. You didn’t care enough to help out full time but you were there if they were dealing with something extra tricky. Like an alien invasion or enhanced individuals.

It had been a hot minute since you had seen the rest of the team and was pleasantly surprised to get a call from them. Apparently Hydra had managed to pass abilities from Loki’s scepter onto humans giving them powers. One of them had an ability you shared thus pushing the Avenger’s to call you in.

Of course, you had a life of your own (surprisingly) and couldn’t just drop everything to help them. Although, once you managed to push your responsibilities to a loyal friend you left to track down the team.

This lead you to a seemingly abandoned factory. Shocker.

You stayed in the shadows, undetected by everyone on the lower levels. You listened to the exchange between your team and the large robot. Your eyes then fluttered to the two that stood on the robots side. You deducted that those were the special individuals the team had called you in for.

You took in a deep breath, separating their scent from the others. You could sense the power coursing through their veins. While they had both gotten their abilities from the same source, you knew that they were very different.

If you gambled you would bet that the man was the speedster that Clint had complained about. Apparently he was a cocky little bastard. You didn’t have to know the guy to know he was arrogant. He stood tall, his chest slightly puffed out and his chin high.

The talking didn’t last long before a brawl broke out. Your eyes followed the male as he zoomed around the room. While it would be impossible for the others to see him moving at such speeds, it was as if he were walking to you.

He started coming your way, oblivious to the fact that you were even in the building. When he got close enough you stepped out and slammed a punch in his jaw. The force knocked him out of motion and over the railing. You watched as he fell to the main floor.

He groans, rolling onto his side as you land silently in front of him. Your entire body is covered making it impossible for him to see what you look like. Even your face, head and eyes were covered by some form of cloth or glasses.

“What? You didn’t see that coming?” You ask, smirking behind the face covering.

You had to admit, with Clint’s description of him you were expecting him to look different. Instead he’s older and more attractive. The arrogance clung to the air around him and it only drew you in.

“Welcome to the party, Y/n,” Clint greets from somewhere in the building. You didn’t respond knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you like you could hear him.

“Who are you?” The man asks, standing up on his feet. The Sokovian accent thick on his tongue.

“Someone you don’t want to piss off,” You warn fairly. He scoffs, causing your smirk to deepen. “Wood of advice, stay out of the way, Moja duša” You said, the name rolling off your tongue so casually you didn’t realize what you had said at first. When you do realize, the weight of the situation falls onto your shoulders.

You stare at the man in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed. You knew that he could translate the words but he did not know the true meaning of them. Before he could ask anything, you sped out of sight.

You help out the rest of the team whilst keeping an eye on the speedster. After a few minutes, you noticed the others slowly begin to drop. Natasha stopped responding, Thor was muttering to himself and Steve looked lost. You could hear Hulk going on a rampage with Tony trying to stop him.

You snap out of it when you sense a presence behind you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was the witch that had single handedly taken down the team.

When she got close enough to you, you whipped around and wrapped your hand around her throat. Her eyes widened and she becomes panicked. Her hand claws at your wrist as you lift her a few inch off the ground to become eyelevel with you.

“There is no nightmare you can show me that I haven’t already lived,” You hiss, tightening your grip around her. “Be careful, little witch, or you’ll find a fight you can’t win,”

You see, out of the corner of your eye, her brother speeding to her rescue. You hold onto her for a moment longer before dropping her to the ground and wrapping that same hand around his throat. While your grip is firm, it doesn’t constrict his airway. You take a moment to admire how he looks with your hand around his throat. An unseeable grin comes to your lips.

“Are you mentally challenged or do you just not listen?” You ask, tilting your head. He glares and fights your grip but it’s iron tight. “Take your sister and run far away, Moja duša,” You tell him, the name slipping your tongue once again.

“Who are you?” He asks, once again.

“Someone who will get you killed,” You tell him. You hand slowly leaves his neck. He stands there, observing you pensively. When he blinks, you’re out of sight.

...

You stuck around with the team. You got caught up on what was going on and what had happened since you last saw them. They asked if you would stay for a bit longer and your agreed.

You spent the night at Clint's with the others. His children hanging off of you as if you were a jungle gym. You tossed them into the air as many times as they pleaded you too. You also sped them around and played games with them. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, the children had you wrapped around your finger. They have since they were born.

When you weren’t entertaining children, you’re mind lingering on the male enhanced. You had learned their names through Steve. Wanda and Pietro.

You found yourself whispering his name as the night rolled on. You would smile a bit but it never lasted. You knew what he was to you and you to him. You also knew nothing could come of it, no matter how much you desired.

“You’re up late,” Your head snaps to the side to see Laura waddling into the kitchen. You winced when she flicks the lights on. She mutters a small apology.

“I don’t sleep, remember?” You reminded her.

“Ah, right,” She whispers. “In my defense, I have pregnancy brain mixed with morning brain,” She admits. “I’m forgetful,”

“I’ve known you since you were a child, how could you forget me?” You question, smirking at her. “I feel as if I’m quite unforgettable,” You admit, watching as she reaches for a glass to fill with water.

"I can’t forget you because you continue to pop up in the most random moments demanding for attention,” Laura tells you, slowly lowering herself into a seat at the table.

“I may be an isolated creature but even I need some socializing,” You tell her. She motions for you to sit as she sips on her water. “You should go back to sleep, Clint will be leaving in the morning. You need your rest, malá holubica,” You whisper to her.

“You leave as well and who knows when the next time you’re going to pop in,” She says, patting the spot beside her. Her eyes pour into yours. Without the threat of the sun, you didn’t need so much covering. You stayed in your trousers and vest but your arms, neck and head were exposed. “Don’t make me beg for you to sit next to me,”

Sighing, you give into her wishes. You glide across the floor and sit beside her. She shifts so that the both of you are face to face. One of her hands rest on her stomach while the other falls onto your lap. You smile a bit, holding her hand within yours.

“Something’s on your mind,” She mutters.

“Something’s always on my mind,” You whisper back, keeping your gaze on her hand. It’s significantly smaller their yours. It reminds you how fragile she is compared to you. “Its nothing for you to worry about,” You assure her.

“Well, we can still talk about it and make conversation,” Laura smiles.

“There’s plenty of other things to talk about, it’s been a while since we've seen each other,” You said, finally meeting her gaze. She doesn’t say anything for a moment as she stares into your eyes. She’s always been fascinated with them. They’re so inhuman. It always amused you how she found something about you, that struck fear and panic into so many, so beautiful.

The color of your iris’s are different shades of red. The red around your narrow pupil is bright and rich before transitioning into a deeper, darker red. The dark red seemed the slowly blend into the blackness of your sclera. Although, at the moment your eyes are significantly darker than normal as your throat continues to ache with hunger.

“You need to feed,” She tells you. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Dinner was lovely,” You comment. Her eyes narrow. “I’m fine, malá holubica,”

“You need to take care of yourself,” She scolds.

“What will happen if I don’t? I’ll die?” You growl, your hand clutching her a smidge too tight. Your anger vanishes when you notice her subtle flinch. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, gentle massaging away the ache you had caused in her hand.

“What happened today?” She asks. “Did you get affected like the others?” You smile, laughing quietly.

“No amateur witch can sneak up on me, you should have more faith in me than that,” You tell her.

“Then what’s going on?” She asks you. “You’ve been distant, lost in your own world. You snapped at me, you never snap at me,” She playfully pouts.

“I apologized, malý,” You practically whined. She smiles giving your hand a squeeze.

“I know but it just shows that something is bothering you... I won’t be able to sleep unless we talk this out,” She threatens. You narrow your eyes at her. “Like you said, I’ve known you since I was a little girl. You can’t intimidate me,” Your glaring snarl turns into a pout. “Talk to me,” Sighing, you give in.

“Moja duša,” You whisper. Laura stares at you.

“My soul,” She mumbles under her breath. “Dimitri?” Your dead heart pangs at the sound of his name. Her face softens, her hand gripping yours in comfort.

“Pietro,” You correct her.

“Pietro?” She questions. “As in..?” You nod. “Maybe this is fates way of using you to get him and his sister on the right path,”

“Or it’s way of cursing me into another heartbreak,” You growl, withdrawing your hand from hers. You stand and return to your spot by the window. “The fates are cruel and hateful,” You snap.

“You don’t mean that,” She whispers. “She never meant to bring you more pain. She only wanted you to find unconditional love during a heartless time,”

“She should have kept to herself,” You growled. “Should have left me to my isolation. If she had she would still be alive and I would be-”

“Alone,” Laura cuts you off. “Your sister didn’t want you to live alone. She knew she couldn’t live as long as you. She knew you would outgrow everyone you knew,”

“Way to cheer me up,” You mumble. Laura sighs, pushing herself out of her chair. “Point is, this wasn’t supposed to be a curse... She had the right intentions,” She mutters, rubbing your back gently.

“I miss her,” You whisper, closing your eyes tightly.

“I know but you have me for the time being,” Laura whispers, hugging you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her, resting your chin on the crown of her head.

“Have I ever told you how similar your soul is to hers?” You whisper. “It’s what drew me to you... It’s like I have her back through you,”

“I just want you to be happy, she would too,”

“Can you women just let me find my own happiness on my own terms and stop meddling with things?” You grumble. She laughs quietly.

“We can’t help it,” She whispers. “I love you, Y/n,” She whispers.

“I love you too, malá holubica,” You whisper, kissing her head. “Now, you’re caught up on the drama’s of my life. Please, go get some rest,”

“Fine,” She sighs. “But do me a favor,” You sigh as she steps away from you. “Think about the good that will happen if you let Pietro in instead of pushing him away. Then remember all the times you tried to push them away but ended up holding them close,”

“Why am I so open with you about my past?” You sigh. “All you do is throw it in my face,” She laugh, gently tapping your face.

“Think about it,”

...

In the morning, you left with your team. You gave the kids extra long hugs before giving an equally tight hug to Laura. She scolds you for not visiting more and you promise to change that before climbing onto the jet.

When you find Ultron, you stick with Steve. The two of you fight the large robot to keep him occupied. While Steve managed to push the tin man around a bit, your punches managed to dent his plating.

Ultron began to put his focus towards you, which you found flattering. You took the brunt of the punches while Steve basically danced around him. The both of you were managing to fight off the robot when Ultron got a hand on your hood and ripped the jacket off of your body.

You screamed as your arms, neck and face began to burn under the sun’s rays. You barely register Steve tackling Ultron into a train. You fall to your knees feeling your skin begin to catch on fire.

Your mind pushes you through the pain. You look for shade but before you can run for cover your being grabbed and put onto the train. You lean against the wall, away from the sun.

You breathe heavily, your eyes opening a little to see Pietro kneeling in front of you. There’s concern in his eyes and despite the pain you’re in you smile.

“Perfect timing, Moja duša,” You pant.

“Y/n, you alright?” Steve asks, standing beside you. You just give him the thumbs up. “Lost sight of Ultron, there’s civilian’s in our path,” Steve say looking to Pietro knowing that your body is too focused on healing to help.

“Go,” You whisper, seeing his hesitance. Pietro nods and speeds off. You groan when the train goes off the rails.

“You sure you’re going to pull through?” Steve asks, once the train stops. While the burns on your skin were to a lesser degree they were still red and you were still sore.

“Just help me up,” You grumble, holding out a hand. Steve grips it and hauls you to your feel. “Fucking robots and trains... I miss the days when humanity didn’t have fucking technology,” You grumble, following Steve off the train.

“-need to take a minute,” Pietro pants.

“I’m very tempted not to give you one,” Steve snaps, marching up to him.

“The Cradle, did you get it?”

“Stark will take care of it,” Steve assures them as you speed past the sun and back into the shade. Pietro stares at you for a moment before disappearing only to reappear with a sweatshirt. He hands it to you.

“Thanks,” You mutter, pulling it on to shield you from the sun.

“Don’t mention it,” He smirks.

...

Vision’s introduction was dramatic, to say the least. You stayed out of the drama. The only reason you continued to stick around was for Pietro. Although, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Death follows you wherever you go, even more so than the Avengers.

You knew you needed to make a decision soon before the bond got to the point where you couldn’t leave. It didn’t help that Pietro didn’t respect the distance you were putting between the two of you. He followed you around like a damn puppy.

“What are you?” He asks.

“Take a wild guess,” You say, looking through the fridge for something to drink.

“I can only think of myths and legends... Stories to scare children,”

“You believe in talking robots but not me?” You ask, turning towards him with a blood bag in hand. He watches as your fangs extend and sink into the bag.

“So, you are real...” Pietro mutters.

“Unfortunately,” You mutter, tossing the empty bag to the side.

“What does Moja duša mean?”

“You know what it means,”

“I don’t think I do,” He says moving toward you. “I think it means something more to you,”

“Stop,” You tell him but he doesn’t until you’re toe to toe.

“My grandmother would tell my sister and I stories about you... or your kind,” He tells you. “Said that certain people were cursed to be stuck with your kind for eternity,”

“She’s right... it is a curse,” You tell him.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” He tells you.

“Candy, bread, beer, it all tastes good but they’re not necessarily good for you,” You tell him. “Think of this on a much bigger, much deadlier scale,”

“Sounds exciting,” He smirks. You sigh pressing your lips together. He raises his hand toward the glasses you had yet to take off. Your hands shoot up and wrap around his wrist.

“Turn around and go back to your sister,” You demand. “Forget you ever saw me,”

“You’re unforgettable,” Pietro whispers. The two of you stay still until Pietro begins to move his hands again. They slip from your wrist as you allow him to take the glasses off. “Oči diabla,” He recites the line that is in all the stories. “Eyes of the devil,” He translates. “Who would have thought the devil would be so attractive?”

...

“If I see another Goddamn robot after this, I’m going to blow a gasket,” You hiss towards the end of the battle against Ultron and his multiples. You run around the city killing robots and rescuing civilians.

Eventually, ships come to the edge of the city to evacuate everyone. You run through the city multiple times in order to make sure nobody is left behind. You return to the ships in time to see Pietro go to save Clint and the child he’s protecting.

Your instincts over take you. Your by his side faster than a heart beat. Your arms wrap around him. You speed out of harms way without missing a beat. When you’re out of the way, you rip a door off a car and launch it at the spaceship sending it to the ground before turning to Pietro.

“Are you alr-” Pietro cuts you off with a kiss. The simple kiss amplifies the already strong bond between the two of you. Your hand instinctively rest on his hips and pull him against you.

“Thank you,” He mutters against your lips. You smirk, returning your lips to his.

...

I plan on doing more one shots in relation to this one. I wouldn’t really call it a series just a collection of random one shots with Pietro and this type of reader.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in them or if you have a request for a specific one shot you wanna see

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Rest, Relaxation... And Exploration

AO3 Link Here!

Collaboration with: @i-live-so-i-love Relationships: Junkook x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5k

Tags: smut, friends to lovers, Nephilim Jungkook, monster/human Romance, mutual masturbation, handjobs, first kiss, getting together, tentacle monster, tentacles as erogenous spots

Summary: Jungkook knows that Yoongi needs a break, and wants to help him relax. He just hadn't planned on THAT kind of relaxing.

A/N: Written for @calixwrites - hope you enjoy!!

“Why are we doing this again?” Yoongi grumped, getting out of the car and squinting at the sunlight.

Jungkook twisted and stretched as he stood up, trying to wake himself after the long drive. The day was almost warmer than he’d prefer but it was perfect for what he had planned.

“Because you have been working too much in that tiny studio with no windows, no sunlight, and no fresh air for too long. You need some outdoor time,” Jungkook reminded him.

“I’m allergic to sun and fresh air,” Yoongi deadpanned.

Jungkook was used to Yoongi’s dry humor. He’d known him for years. Ever since he’d accidentally walked in on Jungkook in full Nephilim mode; all thirteen eyes and six tentacle-esque wings on display. Jungkook rarely had them out, even in private, but he’d been in a public bathroom trying to get his clothes and hair perfect for a date. And frankly, sometimes it was just easier with six extra appendages.

He had been able to keep Yoongi from screaming and convinced him he wasn’t crazy. Originally, Jungkook had only meant to keep tabs on him so he didn’t try to run to the authorities, but somehow, he’d gotten a close friend out of it. A friend that, right now, desperately needed some fresh air and a good meal.

“Hush and help me unpack,” Jungkook scolded.

Together they lugged it all up the stone steps in one go. (Tentacles really could be handy sometimes.) The beach house that Jungkook rented for cheap from a friend of a friend was small and tidy. One room served as the kitchen, dining room, and living room, plus a bathroom and a tiny bedroom. It would do for a night. The real benefit of the place was that it came with a quarter mile of private sandy beach.

“I thought the point of this was to get me out of a tiny room?” Yoongi teased after they finished looking around.

“it is. Which is why we’re going to lay out in the sun. Put some swim trunks on.” Jungkook beamed at his horrified expression.

“I’ll burn to a crisp! We don’t all have your magical immunity to the sun, you know.”

“I packed you sunscreen. The strongest I could find. You’ll be just fine. And you get to do one your favorite things. Just with fresh air and sunlight.”

Yoongi continued to look skeptical. Jungkook pouted. “Just give it a chance?”

Yoongi’s expression softened; Jungkook knew it would. The human couldn’t resist a good pout.

“Fine.”

The two of them changed and made their way across the hot sand. About halfway between the house and waves Jungkook stopped.

“The perfect spot!” He announced, setting down the bag and rummaging through it. Yoongi looked around.

“What makes this spot any different than anywhere else?”

Jungkook shook a large blue and white striped towel and laid it across the sand. He flopped onto it dramatically, the ground giving a satisfying thunk at his bulk. “Because this spot has a towel.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook reached out, fishing through the bag for a second towel. He threw it to Yoongi, smirking when it smacked the other square in his grumpy face.

Yoongi set it out, his expression decidedly softer. He settled onto the blanket and paused before kicking his sandals off and tugging his t-shirt over his head. He rolled onto his stomach, head pillowed on his folded arms. He wiggled a little, making a spot for himself in the soft sand. “This isn’t so bad,” he hummed.

Jungkook tried not to stare. It’s not that he’d never seen Yoongi without his shirt on. There had been occasions over the course of their friendship where he’d spilled something on himself, or it was just somehow more convenient, but admittedly it wasn’t often. Jungkook hadn’t actually expected him to take it off. But there he was, his broad back looking far paler in the sunlight.

They were just friends. But, that didn’t stop Jungkook from having eyes. And Yoongi was an attractive human even by human standards. Yoongi had his eyes closed; the soft curve of his lashes and the resting pout of his lips drew Jungkook’s attention next. He really, truly was achingly beautiful.

Jungkook dug around in the bag and dropped a bottle of sunscreen next to Yoongi’s head.

“There you go, potato chip.”

Yoongi grunted and opened his eyes.

“Were you already half asleep?” He asked, rummaging through the bag for a snack.

“Maybe. Did you just call me a potato chip?”

Jungkook pulled a bag of actual potato chips from and popped it open. He smirked. “Yeah. You said you were going to get crispy. And you’re already plenty salty.” He tossed a few of the ships into his mouth.

Yoongi ignored your joke and squeezed a dollop of the lotion onto his hand. He began to rub it into his arms and face methodically. It was a little unnerving to watch his features slowly be obscured by the sunblock. He glanced up at Jungkook and cocked a brow.

Jungkook smiled sheepishly, aware he’d been caught staring in an entirely creepy way. He offered Yoongi the bag of chips in an apology. Yoongi reached for them, but paused, both his hands covered in the gloopy lotion. He shrugged and held his mouth open like a baby bird instead. With an affectionate shake of his head, Jungkook dropped a chip into his mouth. Yoongi chewed and swallowed, and demanded yet another with an open mouther.

“Too greedy,” Jungkook scolded through a laugh, dropping another chip into his mouth.

He was actively ignoring the fact that it felt a little coupley to be hand feeding him chips. It wasn’t that he’d never considered a romantic relationship with Yoongi. He just knew it would never happen. They both had busy lives and, not to mention, Yoongi was so far out of Jungkook’s league it was nearly laughable. So, any crush that may have tried to bloom was quickly uprooted; Jungkook valued their friendship far too much.

After the third chip, Jungkook tossed Yoongi something to wipe his hands with. He laid back to enjoy the sun, feeling much of his stress being chased away.

“Hey, can you do my back?” Yoongi asked, popping the bubble of relaxation Jungkook had been drifting away into. He sighed and sat up, taking the bottle from Yoongi.

“You have such pretty markings, it’s a shame to cover them,” Jungkook commented casually as he began to rub the lotion into Yoongi’s back. The lines that arched over his shoulder blade and along his spine were nearly symmetrical. As Jungkook worked lower, he wondered what the markings further extension would look like. Humans often had more complex designs in that area, but Jungkook had never seen Yoongi’s. With how shapely Yoongi was though… Jungkook could only imagine they would be just as pleasing.

“Huh?” Yoongi asked softly. “What markings?”

“These,” Jungkook traced one line that dipped along Yoongi’s spine, still faintly visible through the metallic speckled UV reflecting lotion.

Yoongi squirmed.

“Ticklish?” Jungkook asked, repeating the action.

Yoongi grunted, wiggling away from his fingers. “I will put so much spice in dinner tonight that you won’t be able to taste anything for a month,” he threatened, laughter in his deep voice.

“Oh fine,” Jungkook held up his hands, relenting. “Now hold still so I can finish.”

“Hey, I was holding still. You started it.”

Jungkook smiled at his pout and set back to work. Just as he finished up, Yoongi spoke again.

“Really though, what markings? Do I have scars or freckles that I don’t know about?”

“No, your stripes,” Jungkook explained hurriedly, hearing the worry in Yoongi’s voice.

Yoongi craned his neck back to see Jungkook over his shoulder. “I don’t have stripes.”

It was then that Jungkook remembered. “Oh! Duh. I forgot. You must not have the right ocularity to see them.”

He was normally so careful around humans. His parents had drilled into him how important it was that people didn’t ever know about his differences. He almost never brought up the things he knew humans couldn’t see with their limited visual range. But Yoongi made him feel so normal. Aside from his initial freak out, he’d never acted like Jungkook’s abilities were anything more than a unique curiosity or a party trick. His expression now remained puzzled. Jungkook closed all but two of his eyes, limiting his vision to what a human would have. He couldn’t help but frown at the way Yoongi saw himself. It was so plain, like a rainbow in black and white for a human. Yoongi was still gorgeous, but that spark was missing. A human’s markings and colorings told Jungkook so much about them than their visible light ever could. Yoongi’s were particularly stunning from day one.

“In your visible light spectrum, they aren’t there,” he further explained.

“Ocularity? That sounds like a word Namjoon would know. Some obscure thing.”

“It means the number of eyes you have normally. Though I suppose in this case it’s more about spectral frequency than actual number of physical eyes…”

“And in your eyes, I have stripes?” Yoongi looked down at himself, curious. “I must look so weird to you.” He laughed lightly.

“Not at all,” Jungkook said. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Yoongi cocked his head and grinned.

Jungkook could feel his cheeks heat but tried to ignore it. “Yes, beautiful. You can’t tell me you aren’t aware of how stunning you are and how many people find you attractive.”

“Maybe,” Yoongi conceded. “But I didn’t think you did.”

Jungkook’s blush deepened. He tried to ignore it, but thought his cheeks rivaled the sun’s heat at that very moment. “Anyone with eyes thinks you’re gorgeous. So yeah, that includes me. Doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re an annoying troublemaker who worries his friends by overworking thought,” Jungkook stuck his tongue out and turned away, hoping Yoongi would let it go after the riff.

“So,” Yoongi continued much to Jungkook’s disappointment, “if you have more than the usual number of eyes, and more than the usual amount of uhh… Ocularity… Does that mean you find me more than the usual amount of beautiful?”

Jungkook sighed heavily. “Does it matter?”

“It doesn’t, I guess. I just always thought you were good looking. I never realized you thought the same about me.”

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “I’m sure the glowing eyes and tentacle wings are super sexy to a human.” Jungkook could hear the bitterness in his voice, but it had always bugged him. Any partner he’d ever had had only seen a part of him, nobody ever saw him completely, for what he truly was. They’d call him a monster.

When Yoongi remained silent, Jungkook figured his question had been answered. But Yoongi finally responded, “it is to this human.”

Jungkook snapped his head up to look at Yoongi then laughed. There’s no way that could be true. “You’re just being nice,” Jungkook said. “I appreciate it. But… Let’s just go back to enjoying the sun, eh?” He rolled onto his back on the blanket and closed his eyes, letting his skin soak up the warm rays.

Yoongi laid back on his stomach fully, silent for the moment. Jungkook could feel him watching him, but didn’t mind. It was a comforting feeling.

“I’ve always wondered. Can you feel your wings like that? Aren’t they on your back?”

“I can, and they are. But they also aren’t. I can still feel them and move them. You’re used to thinking in three dimensions, as a human. But when I hide my wings or other parts of me, it’s like…” Jungkook frowned as he tried to find an analogy Yoongi would comprehend. “Like taking pants off a paper doll. They both still exist to you, but for the doll, it doesn’t have pants anymore.”

“So hiding your wings is like taking your pants off?” Yoongi chuckled. When Jungkook glanced over, Yoongi winked suggestively. Jungkook’s brows furrowed, confused about what had gotten into his friend today. “No, not really,” Jungkook sighed, opting to ignore the flirtation… If that’s what it was. “It’s not a perfect metaphor.”

“Do you keep them hidden because they’re private? Or so you don’t scare people?”

“I’m pretty sure people would run screaming or try to lock me up and do horrible tests on me if I just walked down the street with glowing tentacle wings and thirteen eyes,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“You know I wouldn’t thought. But you still almost always keep them hidden from me too. I wasn’t sure if it was because they were private.”

“Oh…” Jungkook pauses to consider. “I guess it’s just habit,” he finally settled on. Even home alone he rarely brought them out. Only when he needed the extra appendage to flick a light switch off across the room or carry things. There was another long pause as Jungkook thought about Yoongi’s question, and Yoongi, apparently, was thinking as well.

“Can I see them?”

“Why so curious all of a sudden?” Jungkook asked. His tone was gentle. He sat up and wiggled his shoulders a little to pull his wings into this dimension.

“Wow.” Yoongi sat up and looked over Jungkook’s shoulder, his eyes tracing the long, golden, glowing tentacles. They shifted subtly in his perception, never entirely free from the currents of the fourth dimension. “I forgot how beautiful they are.” His gaze darted over to Jungkook’s face and he frowned. “What about your eyes?”

Jungkook hesitated. “You sure? I mean glowy wings might be tolerable… But thirteen eyes…”

“I’m sure. I can handle it. No screaming this time.”

Jungkook chuckled a little. He scrunched his face and blinked a few times, letting every part of himself slip into this dimension. It felt nice, like releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Yoongi stared for a long minute, his gaze intense. Maybe it did feel more like taking your pants off than he thought it would. Jungkook considered hiding his eyes away again; maybe he had horrified Yoongi after all, but Yoongi seemed to shake himself out of whatever trance he was in.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

The pause grew to the point of awkward between them. Jungkook sighed, but opted to ignore it. He rolled onto his stomach to lie in the sun once more, wings still out.

“Can I touch them?” Yoongi blurted out. He paused when Jungkook looked up. Jungkook could swear he was blushing. “I’m sorry, was that rude?” He asked.

“No. Not rude. Not so different from touching my arm, I guess… I don’t know, really… I don’t know a ton of other Nephilim to have some sort of reference.”

“Oh, uh, right… Sorry.”

Jungkook shrugged and sat up, facing Yoongi. Yoongi did the same. Jungkook spread the tendrils of his wings out in front of him like open hands, glancing up at Yoongi expectantly. Yoongi reached out, setting his hand on top of them. Jungkook was surprised at the sensation. It felt so strange, but not uncomfortable at all. Soothing, in a way.

“They’re warm,” Yoongi said, surprise apparent in his own voice. He stroked his hand along the length of them, and Jungkook suppressed a shudder. It felt really good. Like someone rubbing his back but… More. Yoongi shifted his hands from stroking three at a time to just one. He twirled his finger around the tip of it, as if spinning a hair. The motion sent an unexpected shiver of pleasure down Jungkook’s spine and he gasped, nearly crying out. He yanked his wings away and instantly shifted them out of sight.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—” Yoongi cried in surprise. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would feel like that,” Jungkook stammered, his cheeks flushed and hot.

“Did I hurt you?” Yoongi’s brows were knitted together in concern.

Jungkook wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “No…” He mumbled. Yoongi must not have realized… “The opposite, actually.”

“Oh…”

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry,” Jungkook continued. “I honestly didn’t know it felt like that. I’ve never let anyone touch them, I didn’t know—”

“You’ve never let anyone touch them?” Yoongi asked, cutting Jungkook off.

“Of course not. You’re the only human that knows about them. Who else would have?”

“Your parents?” Yoongi suggested.

“They’re terrified of them. And besides… Now I’m glad they haven’t,” he admitted, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“It’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“That there’s this whole other side to you. An amazing side that you don’t get to show anyone. That you don’t get to explore at all because of how people are.”

Jungkook shrugged one shoulder. “I’m used to it. It doesn’t bother me anymore, I’ve spent my whole life hiding it. And besides,” Jungkook smiled. “You know the real me. So, one person has seen it. And accepts it… I hope.”

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully.

Jungkook looked back down at the blanket. There was a small nagging feeling in the back of his mind, a curiosity about what he’d felt in Yoongi’s hands, what more would feel like. He could explore it on his own, he figured. He wanted to put this whole awkward, humiliating event past him and get on with the relaxing weekend—

“I can help you,” Yoongi said, cutting into his plan.

“Help me?”

“You don’t know much about… That side. I mean, you didn’t know how it would feel to have someone touch them. But someday, I mean… You’ll meet someone who you can share that with, I hope. So, you’ll want to be prepared, or at least know what to expect. So, if you’re curious and wanted to, I… I could help you explore.” Yoongi looked down as he spoke, fiddling with the sand between their blankets.

Jungkook blinked, his mind taking a long moment to process exactly what Yoongi was asking. Was he actually offering… Based on his inability to make eye contact… And the beautiful pink glow of his cheeks, he was. It was strange, thinking of it, definitely not something friends did, right? Jungkook chewed his bottom lip until it hurt, his head twitching as he thought through the situation. It was definitely more than friends. And he should definitely not say yes. This held the potential of changing their entire relationship forever. Ruining it, even. Or making it something more. Yoongi had mentioned finding him attractive. But that was out of the question. No, he had to politely say no, this was something he could explore on his own.

“Okay.” The word came out firm and decisive, evidently his mouth had decided to ignore every shred of rationale his brain was giving.

“Really?” Yoongi looked up, his own eyes wide, as if he were as surprised by the answer. “You… I didn’t think you’d agree,” he admitted. “You’re sure? I do want to. But, I know this is… Big. We can stop any time.”

“I know.” Jungkook nodded. “I trust you.”

Yoongi’s entire face brightened, his mouth upturning into a gummy smile that had Jungkook’s heart fluttering and his cheeks and chest warming.

He took a breath, not sure where to start. “So… What should I do?”

“Well, I need to see them to be able to touch them,” Yoongi teased, reaching out and waving his hand in the empty space where Jungkook’s tentacles should be.

“Right.” Jungkook wiggled and let them appear once more.

“I’ll never get over how pretty that looks,” Yoongi commented. He let his hand fall, watching the movement of them for a moment.

“So, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Yoongi said. “You’ll need to let me know how it feels, okay?”

“You mean you haven’t played with tentacles before? What kind of twenty-something year old are you?” Jungkook teased.

Yoongi scoffed. He reached out, catching one of the tentacles. He squeezed lightly, just hard enough to give some pressure, his eyes on Jungkook’s face.

“That’s okay, doesn’t hurt but… Doesn’t feel like it did before—Oh!”

While Jungkook spoke, Yoongi slid his hand slowly up and down the tentacle.

“Better?” He whispered. Jungkook nodded, closing his eyes. Yoongi repeated the motion and reached out for another tentacle, doing the same. He pulled one closer to him, twirling his finger around the tip like he had before.

Jungkook moaned softly, his eyes snapping open. He covered his mouth with his hands. “Oh, God, I—”

Yoongi let go of one tentacle to tug his hands down. “We’re alone. You don’t have to be shy.”

“This is so weird,” Jungkook mumbled, leaning toward Yoongi a little.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please don’t stop… Do that again?”

Yoongi chuckled. He repeated the twirling motion and then slid his hand down the tentacle, moving it back up in one fluid stroke. Jungkook felt his belly tighten up and he moaned softly, his shoulders sagging a little.

“Come closer to me, I want to reach more of them,” Yoongi whispered.

Jungkook moved onto the same towel, resting on his knees in front of Yoongi, his head bowed. Yoongi made a small noise. He moved forward, wrapping both arms around Jungkook. He caught the tentacles in his hands, sliding his fingers over them and pressing where they emerged from Jungkook’s back. His short nails scraped over one as he stroked his fingers up it, and Jungkook cried out, jerking forward.

The motion sent him slamming into Yoongi’s chest, his heart pounding wildly.

Yoongi cried out in surprise, tightening his grip on Jungkook’s back. “Hey… You okay?”

“Y—Yeah,” Jungkook stuttered. He could hear Yoongi’s heart pounding as fast as his own. The aura around Yoongi was shifting, a vibrant array of colors that would have made the most strong-willed person a little dizzy.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook worried. “Is this… Not good?”

“This is…” Yoongi drifted off. Jungkook looked up at him, meeting his gaze. Yoongi’s pupils were dilated and dark despite the sun, his gaze intense.

“This is what?” Jungkook pressed.

Yoongi swallowed hard. He shifted, pulling Jungkook closer to him. “It’s okay,” Yoongi whispered. “You can lean on me.”

Jungkook pouted a little at Yoongi’s lack of an answer, but let himself be guided onto Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi’s hands slid over his back once more, up short, anxiety bitten nails scraping over the sensitive trunks of his tentacles. Jungkook moaned helplessly, letting his forehead fall onto Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi began to work each of the tentacles in turn, squeezing and stroking, rubbing, each one, testing each. Jungkook’s entire body was on fire. His stomach was knotted in a million twists, a heat and pressure more intense than he’d ever felt before building low inside his belly.

“Yoongi—” He strained.

“I’m here,” Yoongi purred. His breath was hot against Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook moaned wantonly. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that they were “just friends”, he didn’t care that this was just “exploring”. Every emotion he’d felt for Yoongi was rushing back. Every glance that was less than friendly, every “what if” whispered in the back of his mind, every moment shoved away and boxed up under the guise of not wanting to ruin things, not being good enough, not being human enough.

“Yoongi!” He cried again, his voice taking on a pleading lilt. He let his head fall back, leaning into the touches. He looked at Yoongi, struggling to focus. The aura of colors surrounding Yoongi seemed to reflect his own inner chaos, shifting and writhing around them. Despite all of the emotions flooding him, it still surprised Jungkook when he felt Yoongi’s lips against his own. It took him a moment to react. Yoongi’s mouth was soft and plush, tasting of the potato chips they’d shared earlier, the faintest hint of coffee from this morning. He felt Yoongi begin to pull away and made a small noise, instinct kicking in. Jungkook wrapped his arms around Yoongi and deepened the kiss, pressing every inch of his own body against him.

The tentacles that Yoongi wasn’t touching wrapped around them, brushing Yoongi’s back and neck lightly.

He could feel Yoongi’s cock, pressing up against the fabric of his swim trunks, just as hard as his own. Jungkook brought his hips down, grinding their crotches together gently. It was almost disappointing; the lack of feeling he got from it. It was nice, of course, but didn’t feel near as amazing as Yoongi’s hands on his tentacles.

Yoongi, on the other hand, reacted beautifully. His hips jerked and he moaned into Jungkook’s mouth, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the tentacles.

Jungkook pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. He began to hump himself against Yoongi, their breathing rapid as they shared the same warm pocket of air.

Curious, Jungkook let one tentacle sink down, sliding over Yoongi’s bare knee. He shifted his own seating position and pushed it up slowly, into the leg of Yoongi’s swim trunks and up. Yoongi’s eyes widened almost comically when he felt it, his hands going still.

Jungkook pushed up further, letting the tip of the tentacle brush over Yoongi’s balls, already drawn tight to his body. Up further, and around his cock. He wound the tentacle around it in a firm grip, amazed at the texture he could feel, and how good it felt. He could feel Yoongi’s pulse, fast and strong. He stroked it experimentally. Both gasped. It was so intimate. Though it wasn’t exactly like being penetrated, it was so much more than any masturbation he’d done before with anyone. He began to jerk Yoongi off slow and steady, his own climax drawing closer.

Yoongi was wiggling and moaning, clearly struggling to maintain composure. He continued to work Jungkook’s tentacles, knowing the perfect motions at this point to send all the good sparks straight to Jungkook’s guts.

“Please—“ Jungkook gasped.

“Are you close?”

Jungkook nodded. Yoongi let go of one tentacle and grabbed the front of Jungkook’s shorts. He pulled them out and pushed them down just enough for the tip of Jungkook’s cock to be exposed.

“Nobody likes come in their shorts.” Jungkook laughed breathlessly. He did the same for Yoongi, but moved back and pushed them down further.

He watched his tentacle stroke Yoongi’s cock, breathless at the beauty of it. The stripes on Yoongi’s back wound around to his front, swirling around his cock in complex, beautiful patterns.

“Together—“ Yoongi panted.

Jungkook blinked at him.

Yoongi let go of his tentacles only long enough to pull him close again. He touched the tentacle on his cock. “Jerk us both off.”

“I can barely feel my cock with you touching my tentacles,” Jungkook admitted.

He still did as Yoongi requested, unable to hide the smile when Yoongi’s hips jerked. The skin of their cocks slid together as he stroked them both with the tentacle.

Yoongi turned his focus back to the other five, matching pace as they each pulled one another toward climax.

Jungkook came first, unsurprisingly. His head fell back and he shouted Yoongi’s name. His full form shimmered into view, the intensity of his orgasm forcing him into one dimension. His cock spilled his release down the shaft, slicking the way for his tentacle as he continued to stroke them both. Every nerve in his body was on fire, even his tentacles felt as if they were tensing and releasing in time to the powerful climax.

Yoongi swore and jerked. Jungkook forced his eyes open in time to watch, not wanting to miss it. Yoongi’s release spurted onto Jungkook’s belly. Yoongi shuddered, dropping his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder as the waves of pleasure washed over him. Jungkook could nearly see it in his shifting aura, beautiful and hypnotizing.

The two sat in silence for a long time after their orgasms faded, catching their breath and letting the reality of what happened sink in. Yoongi was the first to move, reaching over and dragging the bag closer. He found the towel he’d used to wipe his hands earlier and used it once more, cleaning the release from their bodies and Jungkook’s tentacles tenderly.

Jungkook moved off him and back onto his own blanket, fixing his shorts. He shrugged a bit, his tentacles and extra eyes slipping from view once more.

“So…”

“That was…” Yoongi began at the same time. They both chuckled a little, a tension in the air.

“What do we do now?” Jungkook finally asked. He found himself unable to meet Yoongi’s gaze, afraid of what the other was going to say.

“You were saying I was handsome. I mean… That you thought I was,” Yoongi began.

“You are.”

“Was it just that? Like… You think I’m handsome but we’re friends and… That’s it? Or… More?”

Jungkook cautiously looked up at Yoongi. He was sitting in a similar position, staring at his hands in his lap.

“I’m afraid to answer,” Jungkook admitted.

“Please, don’t be. I need to know.”

“I don’t want it to ruin our friendship.”

Yoongi looked up. “If you’re scared of that… Does that mean it’s a yes? To… More?”

“I tried to ignore it. I figured we were both busy and you’re… So handsome. I’m just…” Jungkook drifted off.

“The most stunning person I’ve ever met,” Yoongi finished.

“That’s a boldfaced lie,” Jungkook snorted.

“No, Jungkook. It’s not.” Yoongi moved forward. He grabbed Jungkook’s face, cupping it in his hands. “I’ve been fascinated with you forever. You’re funny and kind and beautiful, and so interesting. I can’t get bored around you. You make me so happy. I just figured… I’m so… Human. And how dull I must be to you.”

Jungkook grimaced. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You are anything but dull.”

“I lack the ocularity,” Yoongi responded, his voice shifting as he smirked. Jungkook laughed. He set his hands over Yoongi’s wrists.

“So, it seems like… We both have been interested in more for a while.”

“And were both too worried to say something.”

“Now that the truth is out… What’s next?”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I think we go take a dip in the ocean. And then make dinner… And then come lay on the beach and watch the sunset together… How does that sound?”

Jungkook smiled brightly. He let his tentacles and eyes appear, his heart skipping a happy beat when Yoongi’s smile broadened.

“I think that sounds like the perfect first date.”

#thebtswritersclub #calixwrites #i-live-so-i-love #yoonkook #yoongi x jungkook #jungkook x yoongi #sugakookie #smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #tentacles #monster x human

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

The Devil And I

Part 1

Summary: What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right? You survived after you thought your mate had died, but how will you survive finding out he's alive, only different.

Warning: Heartbreak, pining sickness, ABO dynamics, ABO, angst, tears, I think that's it for this part.

Pairing: Alpha!Demon Dean x Omega!Reader; Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1965

A/N: I decided to bring this little mini series over to you guys from Patreon because I have been so busy working on a series that I haven’t been able to write any new one shots, and you guys have been asking for some ABO. This is a little different from my normal ABO series, and it’s totally unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!

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Life has a way of fucking with you. The things you thought you had gotten over and permanently walked away from have a way of coming right back around to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

It took years for you to get over Dean Winchester. Nights of panic attacks, nightmares, near death-inducing heartbreak, and suffocating grief that you honestly thought would be the death of you. Finally, one day at a time, you started to surface from your title wave of gut-wrenching emotions and heartache to start to live a little again at a time.

It has taken you years to get where you are now. To be able to get up and function like a normal person. To be able to eat something, and keep it down. To be able to sleep through the night, on most nights anyway. The only visible scar you carried on your body was your faded and disintegrating claiming mark that once marked you as Dean’s mate.

It was a miracle you had survived his rejection, and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t get pregnant through the whole ordeal, but to say Dean wasn’t exactly himself when he’d claimed you was an understatement. In fact, his eyes were normally not the bright green that was shining through the dimly lit bar you were both sitting in right now. They were, in fact, coal black when you met him, and they were black the last night you saw him.

You could scent him across the bar that you were working at when he walked in, and even though he scent was... different. Not as strong, not as sharp, more of the warm sandalwood, and pine than it was when he was with you.

When he was with you there was a spice to it. Now that was gone.

You could tell by the way he’d held his body, and carried himself as he played pool with a tall man that you assumed was the “Sammy” he’d left you to confront, and the Omega that was with them, he wasn’t the same man. He didn’t seem as lethal, or like he could take on the whole bar with the very snap of his fingers like he had. He seemed… Well… Normal.

Dean had picked you up here at the bar one night when he came in alone, and you were drawn to him instantly. His scent was mouthwatering as it was now, and there was an almost supernatural pull that drew you to him. He took you in the back of his ‘67 Chevy, knotted you, claimed you, and that’s how you learned of the world of angels and demons. Most importantly that Dean wasn’t exactly human, and he owned you as well as your very soul.

You suppressed a whine and forced yourself to look down at the beer in front of you; peeling the label with your fingers as you tried to focus on the bottle in front of you and not the green-eyed man that was at one time your Alpha, but now was so different.

You could hear his boom of a laugh from across the crowd of people, and your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest anew. Well, what was left of a heart anyway. You thought it had all died by now, apparently, there was a little bit left.

When the pining sickness had finally left, and you miraculously survived it, you were convinced that Dean had died. That’s why the mark he’d left on you was fading, and that’s why he never came back for you.

Dean would always come back. Sure, sometimes it was covered in head to toe with someone else’s blood; but town to town, city to city, he never left you behind.

Dean was twisted, and he liked things hard, rough, and bloody, but sometimes there was a softness there that made you wonder what kind of man you used to be, now you knew, because it was standing right in front of you.

“You okay miss?” a young man asked you as he walked by your table, and you hurriedly wiped the tears away that you hadn’t even realized had fallen until the young man had got your attention away from Dean and his pool stick he was leaning on.

You cleared your throat and nodded before answering him.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice so small that you barely heard it yourself above the sounds of the bar that filled the room.

The young man’s eyes followed the path of your previous gaze before landing back on you.

“That asshole Alpha do something to hurt you, Omega, the one that is leaning against the pool table?” he asked, but you just shook your head no, and after staring at you a few more seconds he gave up and turned to leave you in your misery.

You knew you had to get up and walk out of this bar, that people were going to notice that you were a mess, and you were going to attract unwanted attention from the other Alpha’s in the bar, but you just didn’t have it in you.

It was like some invisible force you had no control over was holding you to your seat, and even if you tried to stand up, your legs would collapse from under you, and you would then just be a puddle of nothing on the floor.

You watched every move Dean made. The way his body angled as he lined up his shot on the pool table, the way his tongue peeked out of his lips just enough to see the tip while he furrowed his brow in concentration.

Everything about him was so familiar but so different all at the same time. He was still just as beautiful, just as strong and heartbreakingly handsome. Still, he wasn’t the same Alpha that had claimed you. The mark on his arm was gone, and the scent was slightly different. It was almost like the demon had become the man again, and you were just left behind, and all but forgotten about.

The game of pool ended, and the winnings were split amongst Dean and the two other men playing against him and Sam, then after it was over Dean downed the rest of his beer as Sam slung his arm around his Omega, and they all turned to make their way out of the bar.

This was it, Dean was leaving again, and he was leaving without you. You felt like your chest had literally been slip open, and that you were about to die right there in that corner booth. You didn’t even realize you were following them until the cold night air hit your tear-streaked face, and the railing of the small porch attached to the front of the old wood-framed bar stopped you.

You weren’t the only one that noticed you had followed the three out of the bar. Sam’s Omega grabbed at his shirt and pulled until she got his attention, then pointed at you. You were frozen to the spot, too scared to move. The hazel eyes of the tall Alpha watched you for a moment, but you just couldn’t move.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention, and Dean followed his gaze. One foot in the driver side door of the Impala, and his impressive frame hidden mostly behind the door.

You watched as Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes raked over your trembling form before looking at Sam, who was looking between yourself and Dean. Both men shared a tense glance as if having some sort of silent conversation between themselves before Dean’s eyes found your own again. Even though the blurred, tear-stained vision you had, you could see how his green eyes sparkled against the darkness of the parking lot.

Looking at him this close, you could see the darkness that once was there was lifted; the man that you always assumed was underneath on full display.

“Omega,” he said, the deep tremble of his voice shooting through your shell shocked brain, making you flinch back as his voice seemed to send a joist of electricity directly to the claiming mark that was all but gone now.

“Omega, are you okay?” Sam asked, and you shot a wild gaze in his direction before your eyes fell back on Dean, who was gradually making his way closer to you, leaving the door open to his ‘67 Impala.

You could feel every fiber of your being pulling you towards the man that used to be your Alpha as if your body was calling out to him, and you wondered if he could feel it too. There was no way you could ask him because right now all you could do was cry.

Sam kept his distance but kept his eyes on you as Dean approached you slowly with his hands raised as if to show you he meant you no harm. The closer he got the stronger his scent seemed to become.

“Dean,” Sam said, a warning in his voice, and Dean shot a look at his brother that you didn’t understand. All you could understand was that this was your Alpha, and he didn’t even recognize you. You could see it in the way he moved, in his eyes.

Then he saw it. The faded claiming mark on your throat, and you watched as he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

He was close enough to grab you before he finally reached his hand out for you to take. “Omega, where is your Alpha?” he asked, still completely unaware that your Alpha was standing there asking you the very question everyone else was thinking; the one you had thought for months.

“You… You don’t know… Do you?” you finally made your own voice work enough to ask him. He turned his head in confusion and took a step closer to you. When he did, in a fit of bravery, you grabbed his large calloused hand and placed it directly over your faded calming mark.

You watched as his pupils dilated, and recognition swept over his face. He almost stumped as he pulled his hand away from your neck, around three shades paler than he was a moment ago.

“Dean?” Sam asked, and you vaguely noticed that his Omega was now standing very close to his right arm with her hand on his bicep.

“She… She’s my Omega… I claimed her when I was a demon,” Dean said, his eyes locked on yours, and you were pretty sure he could see your pulse racing just under your skin.

You were a shaking, trembling, mess standing there in front of the man that once was your Alpha. You felt like your world was spinning around you, and knew if he rejected you right now, and walked away from you again you’d never live through it. Not this time.

“Your, I’m sorry what?” Sam asked, sharing a look from his Omega to Dean.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean said, shaking his head as he took a good step back from. You grabbed the railing for support, and looked down at your feet, unable to look at the man that was once your Alpha.

“Dean, she’s not gonna…”

“I know Sam!” Dean yelled before his brother could finish his statement, and you almost hit your knees.

Dean instinctively reached out and caught you in his strong hold, and his scent surrounded you so thick that you felt like it was seeping through our very skin. The world started to fade from your vision, and the next thing you remember was everything going black around you.

Pt. 2 here

Forever Tags;

@deandreamernp

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@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@amandamdiehl

@miraclesoflove

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@softsebastian

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ABO Forever:

@lyarr24

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Dean’s ABO

@akshi8278

@love-jackles-37-blog

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snelbz · 4 years

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What Happens In Vegas... {6}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Feyre x Rhysand, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Summary: For Feyre’s twenty-first birthday, her best friend took her to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun she could never forget. She’s going home with a lot more than memories.

@snelbz / @tacmc collab

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“Hey.” Rhys padded down the stairs seven hours later, wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d slicked his wet hair back and his tattoos were displayed to perfection, defining his lean torso and muscular arms. There was a lot of skin on show. The man was a visual feast. I made a conscious effort to keep my tongue inside my head. Keeping the welcoming grin off my face was beyond my abilities. I’d planned to play it cool so as not to spook him. That plan had failed.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

“Nothing much. There was a delivery for you.” I pointed to the bags and boxes waiting by the door. All day, I’d pondered the problem of us. The only thing I’d come up with was that I didn’t want our time to end. I didn’t want to sign those annulment papers. Not yet. The idea made me want to start puking all over again. I wanted to try with Rhys. I wanted to be with him. I needed a new plan.

The pad of my thumb rubbed over my bottom lip, back and forth, back and forth. I’d gone for a long walk up the beach earlier, watching the waves crash on the shore and reliving that kiss. Over and over again, I’d played it inside my mind. The same went for our conversations. In fact, I’d picked apart every moment of our time together, explored every nuance. Every moment I could remember, anyway, and I’d tried damn hard to remember all of it.

“A delivery?” He crouched down beside the closest package and started tearing at the wrapping. I averted my eyes before I caught a glimpse up his towel, despite being wildly curious.

“Would you mind if I used your phone?” I asked.

“Feyre, you don’t need to ask. Help yourself to whatever.”

“Thanks.” Joey and my folks were probably freaking out, wondering what was going on. It was time to brave up to the butt-picture repercussions. I groaned on the inside.

“This one’s for you.” He handed me a thick brown-paper parcel done up with string, followed by a shopping bag with some brand I’d never heard of printed on the side. “Ah, this one too, by the look.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. I asked Amarantha to order some stuff for us.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? No.” Rhys shook his head. Then he kneeled down in front of me and tore into the brown package in my hands. “No ‘oh.’ We need clothes. It’s really simple.”

“That’s very kind of you, Rhys, but I’m fine.”

He wasn’t listening. Instead he held up a red dress the same thigh-baring length as those girls at the mansion had worn. “What the fuck? You’re not wearing this.” The designer dress went flying, and he ripped into the shopping bag at my feet.

“Rhys, you can’t just throw it on the ground.”

“Sure I can, I paid for it. Here, this is a little better.”

A black tank top fell into my lap. At least this one looked the right size. The thigh-high red dress had been a size-two joke. Quite possibly a mean one, given Amarantha’s dislike of me back in LA. No matter.

A tag dangled from the tank. The price. Shit. They couldn’t be serious.

“Whoa. I could pay my rent for weeks with this top.”

In lieu of a response he threw a pair of skinny black jeans at me. “Here, they’re okay too.”

I put the jeans aside. “It’s a plain cotton tank top. How can this possibly cost two hundred dollars?”

“What do you think of this?” A length of silky blue fabric dangled from his hand. “Nice, huh?”

I ignored his question, still staring at the tank in my hand. “Do they sew the seams with gold thread? Is that it?”

“What are you talking about?” He held up the blue dress, inspecting it closer, turning it this way and that. “Hell no, nevermind, it’s backless. The top of your ass will probably show in that.” It joined the red dress on the floor. My hands itched to rescue them, fold them away nicely. But Rhysand just ripped into the next box. “What were you saying?”

“I’m talking about the price of this top.”

“Shit, no. We’re not talking about the price of that top because we’re not talking about money. It’s an issue for you, and I’m not going there.” A micromini denim skirt came next. “What the fuck was Am thinking ordering you this sort of stuff?”

“Well, to be fair, you do normally have girls in bikinis hanging off you.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “In comparison, the backless dress is quite sedate.”

He kept digging through the bags, but he looked up at me again. “You’re different. You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I didn’t entirely believe the tone of my own voice.

His forehead wrinkled up with disdain. “Damn it. Look at the length of this. I can’t even tell if it’s meant to be a skirt or a fucking belt.”

Laughter burst out of me and he gave me a hurt look, big, violet puppy-dog eyes of extreme sadness and displeasure. Clearly, I had hurt his heart.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But you sound like my father.” He shoved the micro mini back into its bag. At least it wasn’t on the floor.

“Yeah? Your dad and I should meet. I think we’d get along great.”

I blinked. “You want to meet my father?”

Shrugging, Rhys said, “Depends. Would he shoot me on sight?”

“No.” Probably not.

He just gave me a curious look and burrowed into the next box. “That’s better. Here.”

He passed me a couple of sedate T-shirts, one black and one blue.

“I don’t think you should be selecting nun’s clothing for me, friend,” I said, amused at his behavior. “It’s vaguely hypocritical.”

“They’re not nun’s clothes. They just cover the essentials. Is that too much to ask?” The next bulging bag was passed to me in its entirety. “Here.”

“You do admit it’s just a tiny bit hypocritical, though, right?”

“Admit nothing. Hybern taught me that a long time ago. Look in the bag.”

I did so and he burst out laughing, whatever expression I wore being apparently hilarious.

“What is this?” I asked, feeling all wide-eyed with wonder. It might have been a thong if the makers had seen fit to invest just a little more material into it.

“You said I was dressing you like a nun, so I’m dressing you like a nun.”

“La Chaleur.” I read the tag, then turned it over to check out the price.

“Shit. Will you not look at the price, please, Feyre?” Rhys dove at me and I lay back, trying to make out the figures on the crazily swaying tag that was bigger than the scrap of lace. His larger hand closed over mine, engulfing the thong. “Don’t. For fuck’s sake.”

The back of my head hit the edge of a step and I winced, my eyes filling with tears. “Ow.”

“You all right?” His body stretched out above mine. A hand rubbed carefully at the back of my skull.

“Um, yeah.” The scent of his soap and shampoo was pure heaven, Lord help me. But there was something more than that. His cologne. It wasn’t heavy. Just a light scent of spice. There was something really familiar about it.

The tag hanging down in front of my face momentarily distracted me however. “Three hundred dollars?”

He smirked. “It’s worth it.”

“Holy shit. No, it’s not.” It wasn’t, there was no way it was.

He hung the thong from the tip of a finger, a crazy cool smile on his face. “Trust me. I’d have paid ten times that amount for this. No questions asked.”

“Rhys, I could get the exact same thing for less than a tenth of that price in a normal store. That’s insane.”

“No, you couldn’t.” He balanced his weight on an elbow set on the step beside my head and started reading from the tag. “See, this exquisite lace is handmade by local artists in a small region of southern France famous for just such craftsmanship. It’s made from only the finest of silks. You can’t get that at Walmart, baby.”

My eyebrows bunched together. “No, I guess not.”

He made a pleased humming sound and looked at me with eyes soft and hazy. Then his smile faded. He pulled back and scrunched the thong up in his hand. “Anyway….”

“Wait.” My fingers curled around his biceps, keeping him in place.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice tightening.

“Just, let me…” I lifted my face to his neck. The scent was strongest there. I breathed him deep, letting myself get high off the scent of him. I shut my eyes and tried to remember.

Something. Anything.

“Feyre?” The muscles in his arms flexed and hardened. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“We were in the gondolas at the Venetian. You said you couldn’t swim, that I’d have to save you if we capsized.”

His Adam’s apple jumped. “Yeah.”

“I was terrified for you.”

His chuckle was rough. “I know. You hung on to me so tight I could barely breathe.”

I drew back so I could see his face.

“Why do you think we stayed on them for so long?” he asked. “You were practically sitting in my lap.”

I felt stupid, but I still asked, “Can you swim?”

He laughed quietly. “Of course I can swim. I don’t even think the water was that deep.”

My eyes narrowed. “It was all a ruse. You’re tricky, Rhysand Lunasa.”

“And you’re funny, Feyre Archeron.” His face relaxed, his eyes softening again. “You remembered something.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s great.” He smiled, a true, handsome smile, one that he’d only blessed me with a few times. Anything else?”

I gave him a sad smile in return. “No, sorry.”

He looked away, disappointed, I think, but trying not to let it show.

I hesitated. “Rhys?”

“Mm?”

I leaned forward to press my lips to his, wanting to kiss him, needing to. He pulled back again. My hopes dived. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Feyre. What are you doing?”

“Kissing you?” I thought it was obvious.

He said nothing. Jaw rigid, he looked away.

“You’re allowed to kiss me and cuddle me and buy me insanely priced lingerie and I can’t kiss you back?” My hands slid down to his and he held them. At least he wasn’t rejecting me totally.

“Why do you wanna kiss me?” he asked, his voice stern.

I studied our entwined fingers for a moment, getting my thoughts in order. “Rhys, I’m probably not ever going to remember everything about that night in Vegas. But I thought we could maybe make some new good memories this weekend. Something we can both share.”

He didn’t reply immediately, and after a minute, I looked up into his handsome face. “Just this weekend?”

My heart filled my throat. “No. I don’t know. It just… it feels like there’s meant to be more between us.”

“More than friends?” He watched me, eyes intent.

“Yes. I like you. You’re kind and sweet and beautiful and you’re easy to talk to. When we’re not always arguing about Vegas. I feel like…”

His violet eyes were bright. “What?”

I didn’t want to stumble over my words. I didn’t want him to think I was doubting this decision, doubting him. “Like this weekend is a second chance. I don’t want to just let it slip by. I think I’d regret that for a long time.”

He nodded, cocked his head. “So what was your plan? Just kiss me and see what happened?”

I blinked. “My plan?”

He smirked, leaning closer ever so slightly. “I know about you and your plans. You told me all about how you make a plan for everything.”

“I told you that?” I was an idiot.

“Yeah. You did. You especially told me about the big plan.” He stared down at me, eyes intense. “You know… finish school then spend three to five years establishing yourself at a midrange firm before moving up the ranks somewhere more prestigious and starting your own small consultancy business by thirty-five. Then there’d maybe time to get a relationship and those pesky 2.4 kids out of the way.”

My throat was suddenly a dry, barren place. “I was really chatty that night.”

“Mm. But what was interesting was the way you didn’t talk about that plan like it was a good thing.” He looked at me and the way those eyes were looking at me, I couldn’t have hid anything from him, even if I wanted to. “You talked about it like it was a cage and you were rattling the bars.”

I had nothing. He read me like a book and I had no idea what to say.

“So, come on,” he said softly, taunting me. “What’s the plan here, Feyre? How were you going to convince me?”

“Oh. Well, I was, um… I was going to seduce you, I guess. And see what happened. Yeah…”

He snorted. “How? By complaining about me buying you stuff?”

“No,” I said, clearing my throat. “That was just an added bonus. You’re welcome.”

He licked his lips, but I saw the smile threatening to break through. “Right. Come on, then, show me your moves.”

I hesitated. “My moves?”

“Your seduction techniques. Come on, time’s a-wasting.” I hesitated and he clicked his tongue, impatient. “I’m only wearing a towel, baby. How hard can this be?”

“Fine, fine.” I held his fingers tight, refusing to let go. “So, Rhys?”

“Yes, Feyre?”

“I was thinking…”

“Hmm?”

I was so hopelessly outclassed with him. I gave him the only thing I could think of. The only thing that I knew had a track record of working.

“I think you’re a really nice guy and I was wondering if you’d maybe like to come up to my room and have sex with me and maybe hang out for a while. If that’s maybe something you’d be interested in doing…”

His eyes darkened, accusing and unhappy. He started to pull back again. “Now you’re just being funny.”

“No.” I slipped my hand around the back of his neck, beneath his damp hair, trying to bring him back to me. I pressed my forehead to his, hoping he could see the sincerity in my eyes. “No, I’m very, very serious.”

Jaw tensed, he stared at me.

I breathed, “You asked me this morning in the car if I thought you were scary. The answer is yes. You scare me shitless. I don’t know what I’m doing here. But I hate the thought of leaving you.”

His gaze searched my face, but still he said nothing. He was going to turn me down. I knew it. I’d asked for too much, pushed him too far. He’d walk away from me, and who could blame him after everything?

“It’s okay,” I said, gathering what remained of my pride up off the floor, about to grab my Rhys-approved tank, jeans and t-shirts and run upstairs.

“Shit.” He sighed. “You’re kinda terrifying too.”

I breathed, “I am?”

“Yeah, you are. And wipe that smile off your face,” he teased.

I did no such thing. “Sorry.”

He angled his head and kissed me, his lips firm and so good. My eyes closed and my mouth opened. The taste of him took me over. The mint of his toothpaste and the slide of his tongue against mine. All of it was beyond perfect. He lay me back against the stairs. The new bruise at the back of my head throbbed in protest when I bumped it yet again. I flinched but didn’t stop. Rhys cupped the back of my skull, guarding against further injury.

The weight of his body held me in place, not that I was trying to escape. The edge of the steps pressed into my back and I couldn’t care less. I’d have happily lain there for hours with him above me, the warm scent of his skin making me high. His hips held my legs wide open. If not for my jeans and his towel, things would get interesting fast. God, I hated cotton just then.

We didn’t once break the kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist and my hands curved around his shoulders. Nothing had ever felt this good. My ache for him increased and caught fire, spreading right through me. My legs tightened around him, muscles burning. I couldn’t get close enough. Talk about frustrating. His mouth moved over my jaw and down my neck, lighting me up from inside. He bit and licked, finding sensitive spots below my ear and in the crook of my neck. Places I hadn’t known I had. The man had magic. He knew things I didn’t. Where he’d learned his tricks didn’t matter. Not right then.

“Up,” he said in a rough voice. Slowly he stood, one hand beneath my ass and the other still protecting my skull.

“Rhys, no.” I scrambled to tighten my hold on his back.

“Hey.” He drew back just enough to look into my eyes. His pupils were huge, almost swallowing the iris whole. “I am not going to drop you. That’s never going to happen.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“You trust me?” He asked.

“Yes.” I meant it, too.

“Good.” His hand slid down my back. “Now put your arms around my neck.”

I did, and my balance immediately felt better. Both of Rhysand’s hands gripped my butt and I locked my feet behind his back, holding on tight. His face showed no sign of pain or imminent back breakage. Maybe he was strong enough to carry me around after all.

“That’s it.” He smiled and kissed my chin. “All good?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

He simply asked, “Bed?”

“Yes.” I hoped I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

He chuckled in a way that did bad things to me. “Kiss me,” he said.

Without hesitation, I did so, fitting my mouth to his. Sliding my tongue between his lips and getting lost in him all over again. He groaned, his hands holding me hard against him.

Which was when the doorbell rang, making a low, mournful sound that echoed in my heart and groin. “Nooo.”

“You’re fucking joking.” Rhysand’s face screwed up and he gave the tall double doors the foulest of looks. At least I wasn’t alone. I groaned and gave him a tight full-body hug. It would have been funny if it didn’t hurt so much.

A hand rubbed at my back, sliding beneath the hem of my tank to stroke the skin beneath. “It’s like the universe doesn’t want me inside you or something, I swear,” he grumbled.

“Make them go away. Please.”

He chuckled, clutching me tighter, but then he groaned and kissed my neck. “Let me answer the door and get rid of them, then I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Your towel is on the floor.”

He smirked. “That’s a problem. Down you hop.”

I reluctantly loosened my hold and put my feet back on firm ground. Again the gong-like sound filled the house.

Rhys grabbed a pair of black jeans out of a bag and quickly pulled them on. All I caught was a flash of toned ass. Keeping my eyes mostly averted might have been the hardest thing I’d ever done.

“Hang back just in case it’s press.” He looked into a small screen embedded beside the door. “Ah, man.”

I tensed. “Trouble?”

“No. Worse. Old friends with food.” He gave me a brief glance. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be hurting too.”

“But—”

“Anticipation makes it sweeter. I promise,” he said, then threw open the door. A hand tugged down the front of his T-shirt, trying to cover the obvious bulge beneath his jeans. “Drakon. Miryam. Hey, good to see you.”

I was going to kill him. Slowly. Strangle him with the overpriced thong. A fitting death for a rock star.

A couple about my parents’ age came in, laden down with pots and bottles of wine. The man, Drakon, was tall, muscular, and, surprise, covered in tats. Miryam was one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen. They both wore wide grins and gave me curious glances. I could feel my face heat when they took in the lingerie and clothing strewn about on the floor. It probably looked like we’d been about to embark on a two-person orgy.

Which was the truth, but still.

“How the hell are ya?” Drakon roared in an accent I couldn’t quite place, giving Rhys a one-armed hug on account of the Crock-Pot he held in the other. “And this must be Feyre. I have to read about it in the damn paper, Rhys? Are you serious?” He gave my husband a stern look, one brow arched high. “Miryam was pissed.”

“Sorry. It was— ah, it was sudden.” Rhys kissed Miryam on the cheek and took a casserole dish and a full bag from her. She patted him on the cheek in a motherly fashion.

“Introduce me,” she said.

“Feyre, this is Miryam and Drakon, close friends of mine. They’ve been taking care of the house for me.” He looked relaxed standing between these people. His smile was easy and his eyes were bright. I hadn’t seen him looking so happy before. Jealousy reared its ugly head, sinking its teeth in.

“Hello.” I put out my hand for shaking, but Drakon engulfed me in a hug.

“She’s so pretty. Isn’t she pretty, hon?” Drakon stepped aside and Miryam came closer, a warm smile on her face.

I was being a jerk. These were nice people. I should be profoundly grateful not every female Rhys knew rubbed her boobs on him. Damn my screaming hormones for making me surly.

“She sure is. Hello, Feyre. I’m Miryam.” The woman’s coffee-brown eyes went liquid. She seemed ready to burst into tears. In a rush, she took my hands and squeezed my fingers tight. “I’m just so happy he found a nice girl, finally.”

“Oh, thank you.” My face felt flammable.

Rhys gave me a wry grin.

“Okay, enough of that,” Drakon said. “Let’s let these lovebirds have their privacy. We can visit another time.”

Rhys stood aside, still holding the casserole dish and bag. When he saw me watching, he winked.

“I’ll have to show you the setup downstairs sometime,” Drakon said. “You gonna be here for long?”

“We’re not sure,” he said, giving me a glance.

Miryam clung to my hands, reluctant to leave. “I made chicken enchiladas and rice. Do you like Mexican? It’s Rhysand’s favorite.” Miryam’s brows wrinkled. “But I didn’t think to check if that was all right with you. You might be vegetarian.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not, and I love Mexican,” I said, squeezing her fingers back, though not as hard. “Thank you so much.”

She let out a release and grinned.

“Hon,” called Drakon.

“I’m coming.” Miryam gave my fingers a parting pat. “If you need anything at all while you’re here, you give me a call. Okay?”

Rhys said nothing. It was clearly my decision if they stayed or went. My body was still abuzz with need. That, and we seemed to do better alone. I didn’t want to share him because I was shallow and wanted hot sex. I wanted him all to myself. But it was the right thing to do. And if anticipation made it sweeter, well, maybe this once the right thing to do was also the best thing to do.

“Stay,” I said, stammering out the words. “Have dinner with us. You’ve made so much. We could never possibly finish it all.”

Rhysand’s gaze jumped to me, a small smile of approval on his face. He looked almost boyish, trying to contain his excitement. Like I’d just told him his birthday had been brought forward. Whoever these people were, they were important to him. I felt as though I’d just passed some test.

Miryam sighed. “Drakon is right, you’re newlyweds.”

“Stay. Please,” I said. Miryam looked to Drakon. Drakon shrugged but smiled, obviously delighted.

Miryam clapped her hands with glee. “Let’s eat!”

#snelbz whiv #vegas au #what happens in vegas #feysand #snelbz tacmc collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

WARNING: suicide, dark intrusive thoughts, heavy angst, no happy ending

Suicide Hotline : 800-273-8255,

Ngl I almost cried writing this. Imagine that out of all the literature to make me break it’d be my own.

The rain dripped down his discolored body as he stood in it. Unbothered by the lack of weatherly protection he wore, he allowed the droplets to collect on his lashless lids imitating the tears he couldn’t cry. Inky black lines fell down his face in a mockery of the sorrow he didn’t deserve.

It happened again, he should have seen it coming. Why did he expect it to be any different this time? The wilted flowers in his hand bent as the drops of rain they needed, crushed them in its unbearable weight. It was your birthday, the day he thanked this Godless world for, something you would hit him for whenever you tried to share your bible study teachings.

A shaken hand lights a cigarette as he recalls the sight he was destined to witness. Blue smoke filled the air and in the distance, he heard the siren of the authorities, but he didn’t care.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to not answer the door, you weren’t one to get up early. Something he took advantage of by snuggling close to your sleeping form whenever he snuck in. So he did his normal routine of walking around and jumping through your always-open window.

After stepping one leather-clad shoe inside he knew something was not right. Your usual smell of incense had dwindled down to only a spicy taste on his tongue. The darkness of your home was unusual in itself since you always thought monsters lurked in the dark.

He resisted the cough that swelled in his lungs as the smoke polluted the once clean air.

Monsters, a topic you brought up so commonly, he almost believed them to exist. Laughter bubbles from his discolored lips. He supposed they do exist, in the down ridden alleys of the world, lurking to catch some unsuspecting victim and leading them closer to their own demise.

Then there were the once in our own heads. Oh, he was familiar with those. The nagging crawling feeling of them whispering in his ears as they dragged their claws along his skin, urging him to hurt either himself or others. He listened to their every whim and need just to get them silent for only a moment. Then you came along.

You didn’t heal him, he was no fool, this wasn’t a fairytale. But for the few moments he spent with you, he felt almost free, normal. The voices and urges seemed to lessen almost as if they were afraid of your brightness. Afraid of the smile that once lit up the room. The smile that told him everything would be okay, that forgiveness can be had by all.

But now, now he was afraid. It had only been a moment but he could feel them coming back tenfold.

“It’s your fault. She couldn’t stand to be near you no longer.”

“You were being so selfish you didn’t even know she was hurting too.”

“There’s Dabi, doing what he does best and ruining things for everyone.”

The numbness he felt as the words pierced his brain was telling in itself. He tried to hold on to the words you once said, your laughter. Anything that would keep them away for a little longer. Why did you leave him, was it something he did? Was he so blinded by the selfless help you offered that he couldn’t see past his own needs?

The image of you laying on the floor flashed in his mind. The way your cold skin made even the furnace inside him tremble as he held your limp body against him. How the room shook as he wailed tearless cries rang throughout the lifeless home.

He held you close against him as if encouraging your body to soak up his heat. That’s all, you were just cold, he could warm you up. All you needed was to be warmed up. Dabi had hoisted you in his arms. You had never felt smaller. Your hair was long overdue for a redo as stray strands tickled his nose.

He laid you in your bed and draped the cover over your body. You could bathe later when you woke back up. Dabi sat with a beating heart, he raised a finger to light the dumb little candles you kept in your room but stopped as he remembered you didn’t like him using his quirk in the house.

“She was scared you’d lose your temper and burning her.”

Dabi rummaged through the kitchen till he found a lighter, not forgetting to fill a vase with water. You would love the flowers he got you, some still had the root so you could grow them. The smell of the candles filled his nostrils. You said they were cinnamon eggnog but he could hardly smell with his burnt sinuses. The spice of the strong herb was the only thing that brought him comfort.

Dabi removed his dingy coat and laid next to you, you’d wake up, you had to. To protect him from his monsters. He held your steadily chilling body against his own, as he emitted a small amount of heat that he could share between the two of you.

The sound of the birds awakening filled his ears. You would wake up soon, you loved to hear the birds in the mornings even though he found them annoying.

Open pill bottles laid complacent on the bathroom counter but he ignored them. You would never do that, they were just to help you sleep, or your asthma. You didn’t take more than nessasary, they werent’ ‘empty’, you simply needed a refill.

“Don’t lie to yourself you morron”

“Wow, she couldn’t stand to be with you so much that she took that route.

Dabi buried himself in your soft hair, no, that isn’t true.

“You should take some with her, I’m sure she had a plan two if these didn’t work”

“Go ahead, kill yourself like a coward!”

He kept his eyes squeezed shut in a way to protect himself, he wasn’t going to listen, you loved him. This wasn’t his fault.

“Dabi”

“DABI”

The sound of your voice above all others drew him to silence, maybe he’ll listen a bit closer. You’ll tell all his monster off just like you used to.

“Dabi you’re horrible.”

Look at what you did to me”

I was dying and you did nothing”

I’m dead.”

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME!”

“Even in my last moments, you’re clinging like a kicked dog”

“Pathetic.”

The mantra of voices sounding of you filled his head. His chest bounced up and down from a breath he could not feel. His hands clenched in your shirt as the smell of singe filled his diluted senses. The sight of his blue flames enveloping your form haunting his dreams for years to come as he fleed your once happy home.

His memory is cut as he feels his fingers burn from the dying cigarette. He never even put his lips to it. You hated when he smoked. He didn’t need to anyway, the sight of your house burning to ashes before him, was enough to satiate his longing for smoke in his lungs.

Dabi released a scoff as he tossed the ashes onto the water flooded street he stood on. Monsters, what you were most afraid of and something he couldn’t even protect you from. How could he, when he was one himself?

#black y/n #blackreader #bnha headcanons #mha #bnha x black reader #bnha #mha dabi #mha angst #bnha angst #dabi angst #no happy ending #tw: suidice #tw: depression #dabi is depressed

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Text

The Colour of Love: Sesskag oneshot

This oneshot is dedicated to @chierafied as thanks for all her hard work and organisation in the sesskag community, particularly on tumblr for sesskag week and monthly prompts. She's also a wonderful sesskag author and always offers advice or a kind word ^^

Rated T

Summary: Shippo puts a spell on Kagome that allows her to see emotions in colour. It's fun to test out on her friends, but why is she seeing an awful lot of magenta around Sesshoumaru whenever she comes near? Sesskag oneshot

The Colour of Love

"I just need to test it on someone. You'll help, won't you?"

Kagome eyed the ominous glowing beverage in the fox's hands dubiously. She winced and picked up a basket, walking away with every intention of weaselling out of the conversation.

"Shippo, no offence, but the last time you tested something on me for class, horns sprouted out of my head and green pimples covered my face for an entire week. I'm not super keen on being your guinea pig this time, buddy."

His tail twitched and lowered, but her words did little to deter Shippo. He followed the miko as she attended to her chores; freeing swaying sheets from where they'd been hanging out to dry and folding them neatly into a basket.

"Oh pleeassee, Kagome! Sensei oversaw my casting process this time- there's no danger, honest! It's not even that cool of a spell."

Kagome arched a brow, lifting off another sheet and smoothing the cool creases. That was odd, Shippo always preferred the flashier spells. "What does it do?"

"It would let you see everyone's emotions in colour."

She tilted her head, "in colour? How would that work?"

Shippo grinned mischievously, holding up his cup and shaking it gently. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Giggling, she thought for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "I guess it sounds pretty harmless. And this is for a grade?"

"Yes!" he nodded rapidly, eyes widening as his tone became pleading. "Sensei already graded all the other kids! I'm the only one who hasn't passed yet, and everyone else in the village refuses to help me! I'd owe you big time, Kagome. Please?"

Giving a large, put-upon sigh and folding the last of the sheets, Kagome squatted down before him. "Alright, alright. I just have to drink it?"

Green eyes brightened, and he handed the cup over eagerly, the contents nearly spilling. "Mhm! The effects should only last for a few days~!"

The glowing blue shimmer within her cup didn't exactly fill Kagome with confidence, but she didn't want to stifle his progress. It was wonderful that Shippo could advance in his magic at a kitsune school. Secretly, she felt somewhat guilty about the subject. She hadn't been able to witness his growth for three years after being stuck in the future.

Steeling herself and deciding to support him, Kagome downed the foul-tasting concoction. Coughing and blinking away thick tears that stung her lashes, her tongue roved around in her mouth as though trying to escape the taste of sour candy mixed with spices and mint leaves. What an odd combination. Shaking herself and noticing Shippo watching her worriedly, blue eyes widened as a faint shade of grey coiled and moved around the outline of his body like a shining aura.

"I-I think I see it?" Kagome gasped, reaching out and trying to touch the thing, though it had no solid form.

"Really?" Shippo lit up, the colour immediately becoming a tentative yellow, which only shone brighter into a canary hue when she nodded.

Giving a happy cheer, Shippo asked her about any side effects, which were none as far as she could tell.

They then decided to walk around Kaede's village together, Kagome noting any people they passed by and the colour of their current emotions. Shippo hurriedly took notes.

"There's Miroku meditating-" Kagome pointed to the quiet meadow they passed where the monk sat calmly, having gained two pupils to teach. Monks in training. Inuyasha had voiced his doubts that it would last long once the monks witnessed Miroku's less than savoury habits.

"His aura thingy is lavender and seems controlled," she observed in a hushed tone.

The little kitsune made a noise of affirmation, writing that down on a trailing scroll. "I think purple must be linked with spirituality then? This is great info!"

Giggling, she nodded, noticing how faint the pupil's auras were. She wondered if her own focus on spirituality would be strong or weak.

Moving on, noticed Sango outside her hut, who seemed absorbed in rocking her infant son while he dozed. Her twins were playing with some spinning tops that Shippo had given them.

"What do ya see, Kagome?" he tugged at her pant leg.

She hummed, gaze gentling. "Sango is radiating a kind of baby pink glow. The twins are like yours earlier- yellow and excited."

"So I guess love is pink," Shippo nodded.

Noticing something, Kagome waved a hand slightly. "Hold on-"

"Hm?"

Kaede and Rin were walking towards them, engaged in conversation. The little girl chirped on about something or other, while Kaede nodded indulgently.

"Kaede and Rin have pink auras too, but it's different. It's a pale pink, more like a pearl."

Shippo tapped his small chin with a pen Kagome had lent him. "Hmm…"

"I guess it makes sense since there are different types of love, don't you think?" gently prodding him, she smiled.

"Oh! So like they're feeling something kinda similar to Sango, but different."

"Right," Kagome grinned wider, proud of him. "Familial love for Sango, and platonic, friendly love for Kaede and Rin."

The old miko and her charge stopped to greet them on the path. "What are ye both up to today?" Kaede's single eye slid down to the scroll questioningly.

Kagome waved it off. "Just some schooling."

"Yeah, but it's fun! We're testing magic!"

Rin gaped at Shippo, aura turning green. "Aww, can I help them?" she turned to Kaede with a pout, clasping both hands and making big brown eyes even wider.

"Ye have your own training to attend to, Rin. Come along," the old woman kept walking with a dusty chuckle.

Whining good-naturedly with a now agitated orange glow about her, Rin trudged after her guardian, giving a despondent farewell to Shippo.

At that moment, foul cursing filled the air. The loud, booming swear caused nesting birds to take flight from their trees near the village.

The miko and kit shared a dry look.

"Inuyasha," they sighed in unison.

Needless to say, their former travelling companion's emotions glowed a vibrant red- outshining even the robe of the fire rat. He held his sore thumb, having accidentally hammered it while fixing a neighbour's chicken coop. Kagome wisely hid her laughter, feeling a plume of affection for him, since he'd taken it upon himself to help a neighbour.

I wonder what colour surrounds me when I look at Inuyasha, she wondered, fishing out a small mirror. Unfortunately, she couldn't see the colour. Though they'd broken up after a couple of weeks of dating, that candle of first love between them wouldn't be snuffed out completely. Since she couldn't coax that flame any higher than a tiny, nostalgic flame, she wagered it to be a kind of pastel pink colour.

After a few hours, Shippo looked down at the list of emotions they'd observed. "I think I got most of em' for now. We did great today, Kagome! Thanks so much!"

She giggled and ruffled his hair. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I need to collect some herbs now, so if I see some new ones while I'm out, I'll let you know," Kagome grinned, leaning a basket against her hip. "I'll be able to see these emotions for a few more days, so no sense in turning in your test results early."

Shippo gave her a brief hug, before racing off to go organise his notes. Beaming with pride, Kagome walked out of the village and up a hill towards Inuyasha Forest with a small skip in her step. She'd helped! And luckily there'd been no side effects or worries of any kind.

Maybe I should help him out more often, she mused, noticing a certain Daiyoukai step out from beneath the shade of trees, powder blue shifting around his aura calmly. Smiling amiably, Kagome lifted a hand in greeting as their gazes met- before freezing.

Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change from its usual combo of placid, haughty and stoic. However, the energy surrounding him immediately dyed a deep, vibrant colour.

Kagome's breath hitched, eyes widening.

It plunged into a bold magenta hue, becoming a solid outline that coiled and thrummed.

She did not understand what it meant, but that she could elicit a change in emotion from him at all felt startling.

He stared at her, unblinking. As he drew closer and closer, Kagome tried to make sense of what he could be feeling, but his guarded eyes refused to risk any secrets being revealed.

"Miko," he acknowledged in his usual crisp, silky baritone. His way of a greeting.

"Sesshoumaru," she said, muscles tensing as he passed by, the silk of his billowing sleeve brushing the hypersensitive skin of her arm. Kagome blinked rapidly, reeling.

Shifting to watch him leave surreptitiously, she watched the magenta remain long after they'd parted ways, spying him duck into Kaede's hut to pay Rin a visit.

What the heck was that about?

Maybe it wasn't anything worth noting. Surely, just like anyone else, the Daiyouki had various emotions linked to things. People elicited different feelings from him; that was perfectly normal. But his mood had changed so swiftly upon seeing her that Kagome couldn't help but feel curious. What did magenta mean? Had she offended him? Did he always feel that specific emotion around her, or was it a one-off?

Turning on her heel, Kagome dismissed her task of fetching herbs in favour of seeking Shippo out again.

---

"What does magenta mean to you?"

"To me?"

Kagome nodded seriously.

Thinking for a moment, Shippo hummed and nommed on a lollipop, leaning back on the log he'd perched upon outside. "I dunno, it's a pretty colour but not a favourite. Can't get much use outta it with my crayons."

"No, I mean like - surely there has to be some demon opinion of magenta? Is it associated with a powerful emotion or something?"

Shippo shook his head, consulting the forgotten scroll. "My guess is- since purple is spiritual stuff, Sesshoumaru feels uh...like you remind him of holy things?"

Huffing out a sigh, she flopped down beside him, placing her chin in her hands. "Doubt that. He didn't seem calm," she mumbled, remembering the vivid intensity of his unblinking stare. "Hm, maybe since red- which is anger- and darker blue- which is sadness- has to mix to make the right shade of magenta, that means Sesshoumaru is both angry and sad when he looks at me." Kagome's stomach dropped. "Oh God, do I make him smad?"

Shippo snorted and tossed his lollipop aside to shake her arm, noticing the dazed look of worry glazing her eyes. "You don't make him smad."

Kagome remained unconvinced. The kit groaned, hopping up and grabbing her hand. "You don't! I'm sure it was just a coincidence he was feeling magenta around you. Let's go see!"

The miko stumbled after the exuberant fox, not fully realising where he intended to go until it clicked they were heading toward Kaede's hut. Kagome's heels abruptly dug into the earth, dragging. "Shippo!" she hissed. "He's visiting Rin- I don't want to interrupt."

"You won't be, it looks like they're saying goodbye already."

Blue eyes widened and her attention snapped up from the fox to land on some distant figures up ahead. Even from far away, Kagome could see the pearl pink aura coiling around Sesshoumaru as he lay a gentle hand upon Rin's head of brown hair. The girl beamed, giving off her own warm shine.

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek, heedless of her own approach now. She realized then just how personal and vulnerable the emotion spell could be- how rare and revealing it was to witness Sesshoumaru experiencing such a wholesome bond, free from violence. Enemies could potentially use it on each other to find out secret information easily.

The Daiyoukai seemed to inhale- abruptly stiffening and lifting his hand away from Rin as claws twitched, curling into his palm. Kagome witnessed the moment his aura bled darker, slipping from innocent pink into the strong shade of magenta- just as he turned his head in their direction. Golden eyes pinned her in place. Sesshoumaru seemed to grow tense and watchful, showing none of his previous warmth.

Shippo paused when they weren't too far away, glancing up and noticing Kagome's pale expression. "Uh... has it happened again?"

"It's even worse than before," Kagome whispered.

"Kagome, Shippo!" Rin called over to them, waving. "Are you still playing with magic?"

This seemed to catch Sesshoumaru's attention, ripping his heavy gaze away to land on his ward. "Magic?"

"Mhm! They're doing some kitsune homework with a spell," she smiled, seeming to gain a devious expression and hurrying over to grab Kagome's freehand, pulling her the rest of the way towards her lord. "Kagome! You should take a quick break and sit with Lord Sesshoumaru. Share some tea together!"

Horror churned fierce and fast through Kagome's system. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, and prolonged exposure to her would no doubt suck for him if magenta was an irritated colour.

"That is unnecessary, Rin," Sesshoumaru uttered, confirming Kagome's suspicions. She winced a little anyway, wondering why it stung. "This one was just passing through, I will leave now."

Making a noise of complaint, the girl's grip tightened. "Well then, she should accompany you! W-we need medicinal herbs and you didn't gather any earlier, did you Kagome?"

She willed the earth to swallow her whole. "N-no…"

"Then it's decided! She can walk you to the forest since she's heading that way." Rin poked and prodded them to get moving. In all the confusion, Shippo slipped away to make some notes, giving Kagome a thumbs up- which she returned with a death glare.

Wondering what had come over Rin but being trapped by politeness to refuse, Kagome grimly started walking alongside Sesshoumaru, picking up a basket from Kaede's hut.

I shouldn't feel guilty or weird around him, she thought, trying to ease her worry. If he's getting bent out of shape just from seeing me, that's his problem. I'm pretty confident I haven't insulted him recently.

Kagome nodded silently to herself, endeavouring not to let Sesshoumaru's secret magenta emotion matter so much-

"You appear well."

Jumping, Kagome whipped her head up to the regal demon. "Huh?" she blinked, heat touching her cheeks. "Oh! Thanks!" the magenta outline grew bolder, much to her chagrin. "You look nice too. Aha-! I mean not nice- well, you look handsome- but in a good health way! Not a 'compliment on your looks' way. That's totally what I meant. "

Open mouth, insert foot.

His aura only seemed to fluctuate more, and Sesshoumaru's lips thinned. Kagome inwardly groaned. No doubt he hated her even more now!

She decided an attempt to smooth over everything was in order. "Sesshoumaru," she said, taking a breath. "I know we might not be what you'd consider close, but I'd be totally fine with talking about anything that might be bothering you. Even allies can talk about that stuff."

Sesshoumaru blinked languidly, looking as though she'd blurted out a foreign language. He then faced forward, features becoming tightly controlled. "Nothing unsettles me, miko. It is a foolish, human sentiment that I should be 'bothered' by anything."

Kagome rolled her eyes, mouth twitching. Proud, stubborn guy. She didn't know why she found it kind of endearing.

"Why are you so certain I am troubled?"

Her steps faltered before she strode on, biting her bottom lip. "I have a knack for feeling out these things. A woman's intuition," she grinned, noticing his stare rove lower, south from her eyes.

"Hn," golden eyes lingered. Kagome wondered if she'd gotten something stuck in her teeth. "Your intuition is certainly lacking if you are only just noticing something amiss."

A victorious noise escaped her and she immediately swooped in on the slip-up. Sesshoumaru seemed to wince. "Aha! So something IS wrong!"

"Miko-"

"It's just that you've been dealing with it for such a long time that it's become almost normal to you. That about right?" she grinned.

Kagome took his moody silence as a 'yes.'

"I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it earlier. Shippo's um...spell...has made me extra sensitive to how others are feeling," she revealed a half-truth. "I just can't work out how you're feeling. Heh, you're mysterious even when I've got magic to help me understand you."

"You wish to understand me?"

"Well, yes? You're our ally. As established; I'd like to be your friend too."

"I see."

"Sooo...?" Kagome hedged as they arrived at the border of the trees. The Daiyoukai stopped and turned to her once they were beneath the branches, having stepped under cool shade. Kagome quieted, wondering at the assessing, guarded look he pinned her with. Why should the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru guard himself against her of all people?

Pale lips quirked, and he hummed, giving a haughty, arrogant smirk. "Figure it out yourself."

Her mouth fell open. Ire immediately simmered real and hot beneath her skin. "That's not helpful, Sesshoumaru! The whole point of having friends is to share stuff! You can't expect people to know how you're feeling without you telling them, I'm not a mind reader."

He moved in slightly closer then, leaning down. Kagome swallowed but tensed her legs to keep from bending back, holding her ground and straightening her spine. It proved difficult. Sesshoumaru's cold features had a way of unnerving even the most hardened warriors. It was the lack of empathy or emotion in his animalistic gaze; the terrifying sense that something was missing; humanity.

But...

Kagome's eyes strayed to the magenta aura that only blazed thicker and larger, practically drowning her. The spell revealed, albeit without his consent; that Sesshoumaru was a man of feeling. In fact, whatever emotion plagued him, it roared stronger than any other persons she'd seen that day. Besides all that, she'd witnessed his care of others before. Been on the receiving end of it when he'd saved her a few times.

In the shade's hush, he tipped his head slightly, silver hair falling free from behind a pointed ear. "I am not a being that 'tells' other's information freely. Demons can glean enough from my body language, scent and actions enough to understand my feelings."

"And I appreciate that," Kagome said in a softer tone. "But I'm not a demon."

"Rin-"

"Is a child who has spent a lot of one-on-one time with you. I'd also wager that while she understands a lot of your intentions...she doesn't always understand you either."

Sesshoumaru begrudged her point, though seemed ever unwilling to let his mask slip to reveal anything.

Searching his gaze, she wet her dry lips. "What does the colour magenta mean to you?"

His aura flared, and Sesshoumaru surprised her by leaning back and stepping away. His features became a mix of things, the colours changing for the first time around him- grey, yellow, black, fluctuating on magenta and orange before settling on a particular shade of red that made her squeak.

No way- is he embarrassed?

"Why ask that?" he asked in a removed, steady tone. If she focused though, Kagome could pick up on the faint slip in his voice.

Kagome for once couldn't answer, heart hammering in her ribcage. She wasn't sure what to interpret from his reaction, but the colour obviously meant something to him. Shaking her head, Kagome waved it off.

"Never mind. I'll take your advice and work it out for myself."

He blinked and arched a brow, seeming to recover from his surprise. "Oh?"

Kagome made a noise of affirmation, turning on her heel and taking a few steps away. Pausing, she flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "And if I guess correctly, you agree to start telling me the important stuff. Deal?"

Sesshoumaru's face flashed with intrigue. Slowly, thin lips curved. His expression transformed into something quietly eager, the colour aura deepening into blazing magenta once more.

"Hn."

---

After asking near everyone she could think of for their input or ideas, Kagome ran into a brick wall, utterly stumped. That was- until she heard a certain irritatingly high, grating voice.

"But WHERE did Lord Sesshoumaru go?"

"I don't know, he said he was just passing through."

Jaken.

If anyone had insight into Sesshoumaru, it would be the little green imp. Kagome hurried in the direction of the helium sounding voice.

Finding Rin and Jaken by the village well, and struggling to pull a bucketful up together- Kagome quickly lent a hand, hefting the bucket up onto the side. The little girl grinned and thanked her, while Kagome crouched before Jaken, causing him to squeak.

"W-what is it? What do you want?!"

"I need to talk to you," Kagome said seriously. Resting her hands over her knees and leaning forward intently. "Magenta. Tell me your thoughts on that colour."

Bulbous yellow eyes widened. "Hah? Have you lost your senses, strange girl?"

Rin pouted and lifted the heavy bucket down, spilling some water. "Just do it, Master Jaken. If Kagome is asking, it must be important."

Kagome smiled a little, before schooling her features back into complete seriousness.

The imp sighed and squinted, before thinking for a moment. "Hmm, well. I would of course associate it with the most illustrious Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"H-huh? Why?"

"His cheek and wrist stripes are that exact shade! Don't you pay attention to anything?"

Kagome realised he was entirely correct. They matched up perfectly. Excitement built in her chest, feeling like she was FINALLY getting somewhere with the big mystery. "So it's linked with him… I see. What do you think the colour represents?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," he tilted his head back with a haughty sniff. "But since they adorn Lord Sesshoumaru, I can only conclude that it must be a royal, prideful colour."

Her elation fizzled out. Kagome wilted, sighing and standing once more. That didn't fit at all. No way would Sesshoumaru feel pride while looking at her.

Stepping away with the dismal thought that she was back at square one, she paused upon noticing a tugging on her sleeve. Rin clutched the trailing end of it, looking up at her in quiet earnest. She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with something. "I-I'm sure the answer is there if you just try asking more questions, Kagome."

The miko softened and petted her wild hair, smoothing the locks back from her face. "You really think so, kiddo? Because I'm kind of stumped right now."

"Mhm! I don't know what homework you're helping Shippo with, but if its causing you to take an interest in Lord Sesshoumaru, I encourage you to dig deeper!"

Kagome wasn't sure why she felt so strongly about the subject, her smile becoming a little confused. Nonetheless, she decided to take the advice and try again.

The right question…

Grabbing the back of Jaken's robes and tugging him back before he could walk off, Kagome knelt down. She decided to shift her focus. "Those markings on Sesshoumaru's face and wrists- I was wondering if they mean anything."

"Bah! Such things have a multitude of uses! Ahem!" he lifted up a tiny green claw. "Firstly, they are to show that he is poisonous."

Kagome stifled a giggle behind her hand, smiling with her eyes at Rin. "So he's like a flower."

"No! Nothing like a flower! He is deadly!"

"Poisonous flowers exist- but never mind that," she waved off. "What else?"

"Second, the positioning of the markings represents various things. The ones on mi lord's cheeks represent superior jaws, the wrists and ankles represent superior strength in his arms and legs, while the hips represent that he will produce superior offspring."

Kagome turned steadily red, wondering how low those stripes hooked down his hips. She hadn't even known he possessed hip stripes and was now picturing him half-naked. Kagome quickly shook the fantasy away. Rin didn't seem to understand that last part but thankfully remained quiet.

Jaken continued on, bolstered by such a captive audience and happy to talk about his favourite subject. "Lastly, they are to catch the interest of a mate."

"They... are?"

The imp nodded with vigour. "If you were the slightest bit observant, you'd notice that the vibrancy of his markings has emboldened recently. This means he is displaying for a female."

She had noticed that, actually, but Kagome hadn't thought anything of it. She felt close to a conclusion then, so achingly near to the truth. Swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, Kagome soldiered on.

"I saw that the ones on his cheeks had become bolder. What about his crescent moon?"

Jaken waved a tiny hand, "the moon is just to show which clan he belongs to. In relation to your original question, it is the magenta markings that are paramount. They are intrinsically linked with all that I noted; intimidation signals and mating."

Kagome nodded, inwardly reeling. She mulled this over and thanked him for the valuable insight. Magenta obviously meant more to Sesshoumaru than she'd ever thought.

In light of Jaken's words, Kagome found herself having to observe a certain set of emotions. Since mating was on the list, she reluctantly wandered in search of a known pervert.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she took Miroku to one side. After explaining the situation in a succinct manner, she took a breath.

"I need you to get horny for your wife."

Miroku stared. He then pushed back his sleeves, clearing his throat and righting his collar. "My time has come."

Kagome's eyes widened and she held up her hands, "wait- I'm not asking to be weird or anything. M-maybe I should explain more."

He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting. "No further explanation necessary, Lady Kagome. If this is in service of deeper understanding between allies, I am more than happy to help. Observe."

Miroku breezily walked away, gravitating towards Sango who had set down their son, attention on the crawling toddler. Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands- shifting some fingers aside to witness the moment Miroku's calm blue aura darkened.

For a moment, panic leapt down her windpipe as it deepened into purple, hovering over magenta- before the aura settled on a lush hot pink.

The sound of a slap sounded out, Sango moving away from Miroku's groping hand. "I've told you before; not in front of the children!" she hissed.

Her husband laughed airly, stroking his cheek and giving her a fond smile. Kagome's heart warmed slightly, witnessing the hot pink glow into a warm pinkish red.

I think that must be the colour of love.

This, unfortunately, didn't answer any of her questions.

The possible things Sesshoumaru could be feeling toward her made the miko's stomach twist into knots. She went over what to say in her head a dozen or so times- and then a dozen more. It was no easy feat to wait on pins and needles for the demons' return. Inevitably though, word of his return reached her a few days later.

---

Sesshoumaru had been spotted by the trees bordering Inuyasha Forest so she'd set off alone immediately.

Since the sun beat down mercilessly, Kagome was unsurprised to find him by water. Elevated temperatures were likely brutal on those who regularly wore armour- evidenced by the fact that she walked in on him very much without it. Sesshoumaru knelt by a river, eyes closed and hankimono parted- exposing a thin sliver of firm, pale muscle. His head slightly dipped forward, hair held over one shoulder as one hand cupped cool water and splashed it over the back of his neck. Droplets ran down the length of his throat to dip around his collarbone- some sliding down his back. Sesshoumaru massaged the base of his skull, before cupping more water and repeating the process, long fingers running over the back of his glistening neck.

Kagome stared. She'd suddenly never been so thirsty in her life.

His lashes fluttered open to glance at her. His continued silence prompted her to clear her throat and murmur; "I'm not sure if I've got it right."

"Explain."

Kagome felt a blush rise to her cheeks and panic erupted in her chest. She suddenly wasn't ready. She wasn't nearly as ready for this as she needed to be. Approaching the Daiyoukai dressed in a white tank top and dungarees had not been the plan but she'd impulsively sought him out without thinking about it.

His voice turned softer, almost coaxing. "What conclusion did you reach?"

Kagome bit her lip and felt the need to explain her process of elimination. "First off; I feel like I should be honest with you. I can see the colours of people's emotions around them due to a spell Shippo used on me. That's why I was asking about magenta. It's...it's the emotion you keep feeling whenever you see me- I just had no idea what it meant."

Golden eyes cracked a fraction wider, exposing the liquid honey swimming inside, glinting in the afternoon sunlight with interest.

"I asked Jaken about the colour since he has an insight into you more sound than other people. He told me that magenta was linked to your markings- which can represent intimidation signals and m-mating interest."

He arched a brow, something unnamed flickering over his expression. Kagome began pacing back and forth before him. "So! The first thing I did was follow Inuyasha into a fight. There was a weasel youkai bothering a farmer. I noticed Inuyasha's aura turned a brownish, orangey-red during the fight and concluded that was likely aggression! So I figured you weren't feeling defensive around me," she gave a nervous giggle. Why was the sun so damn bright? The humidity only elevated the spike of nerves pricking the back of her neck.

"Next came the... other thing," her voice dimmed and Kagome evaded eye contact. "I noticed Miroku feeling uh...frisky around his wife. His aura turned hot pink- so it wasn't magenta- not that I thought you could ever feel that way about...me," she babbled. "Hell, I've consulted Shippo's scroll a thousand times. I've run through all the emotions we could find and- gah! I couldn't find anything that explained magenta. I guess I failed in figuring out what's bothering you," her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You went to all that trouble?"

Kagome lifted her gaze to his, loosely holding her arms. "Well, yeah. I kind of realised that I wasn't being fair to you the other day. You shouldn't be expected to verbalise your problems if you're not comfortable doing so. It's a different method than what I'm used to in order to communicate- but if you're happy doing that I won't push you to open up to me."

Since she'd failed to work out his problems, however, Kagome grimly figured there was no hope of them being friends. The thought somewhat bothered her. Sesshoumaru was a solid, assuring presence to have around. It would've been nice to have a deeper insight into the inner mechanisms of his cerebral mind.

Maybe priestesses and demons just can't understand each other.

A shadow fell over her, bathing Kagome in shade. She looked up, finding his curious, burning gaze bearing down on her.

As usual, magenta coiled and expanded around him. So large and encompassing.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly. "Some actions do not require words in order to understand them."

Kagome could only blink, face heating as he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted it up- before her heart burst into overdrive in time with lips pressing against hers.

Her squeak came out muffled, hands scrambling uselessly and finding his shoulders, quickly lurching away from the firm muscle to hover uselessly in the air. Sesshoumaru grabbed one of her hands and forced it to his broad shoulder, holding it there as he explored her open mouth.

The miko reeled, dazed eyes picking up the shining magenta aura before her lashes slid shut. Kagome let out a breathy noise as his tongue slid over hers, reciprocating for a moment before her mind caught up with the situation and- WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE DOING?

Kagome's palm pushed against his broad shoulder, ripping her mouth away from his and panting. Sesshoumaru remained close, breath shuddering slightly, gaze hooded.

"That-" she started, having to lick her lips. "That requires MANY words, buster. So many words are needed to explain what the hell just happened."

The Daiyoukai managed to look put out, eyes turning flat. "It seems your ignorance requires a lack of subtlety, but I do not mind. If it is necessary to have you- I will adapt and explain myself."

"To... have me?" Kagome's breath hitched. Somehow magenta was all she could see- his cheek markings so bold and bright.

Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked, eyes squinting and attention shifting away as he seemed to gather his thoughts and construct them onto his tongue.

"Magenta is the colour of love to inuyoukai."

He said it so easily. After all that confusion and so much second-guessing, Kagome was almost angry with him. Almost. The rest of her brain was too focused on processing the unthinkable thing he'd just said and the implications behind it.

"But...your markings…" she croaked.

"Have little to do with it- though Jaken's explanation was not incorrect."

Kagome shook her head, searching his face. "I just...I'm struggling to understand h-how? I mean, you can't feel that way about me."

"Why not?"

"B-because!" she squeaked, cheeks blazing red. "Isn't love a bit of a leap? You barely know me."

Sesshoumaru huffed, placid features shifting to become slightly guarded. He didn't know when it had started happening for he was in the middle before he even knew he had begun, but more and more, he sought her opinions and company. She spoke well and intelligently after all- had destroyed Naraku and the jewel with such power and finesse that had made his instincts stir. "I know enough. This is not something recent. I have watched... and wondered for some time."

"Wondered... what?"

"If it was possible to bridge the gap between us. Perhaps it was foolish to think we could be compatible."

He had a point. Even a spell hadn't helped her understand him any easier. But when Sesshoumaru slowly stepped back, quiet disappointment simmering behind his blank mask yet clear in his eyes- something like panic possessed her. Kagome grabbed his sleeve, blushing harder.

She wasn't sure why alarm had shot through her- but the idea of losing their soft, hopeful flickering flame before they'd even coaxed it brighter to see what heights it could reach felt like something she'd regret forever if she let him go.

Kagome stepped closer. "Not foolish. This is just really unexpected for me."

Golden eyes roved over her face questioningly.

"The colour of love is different for humans, so it never even crossed my mind that THAT was what you've been struggling with. Jaken mentioned you were displaying for a female but- wow," she murmured, gentling. "Thank you... for telling me. No one's ever said that to me before."

Sesshoumaru's expression warmed, just a touch. He inclined his head slightly and Kagome felt an odd flutter in her belly.

"I'm not in the same place as you emotionally but- if- if you'd want to try this human thing called 'dating' we could give it a shot and get to know each other better."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru gave her a considering look, and she almost thought he might decline before the ghost of a smile tilted up his lips. "What is 'dating?'"

Kagome's face burst into a grin, and she took his clawed hand. "You're gonna love it. It involves a lot of talking."

He gave a mock groan, aura glowing brighter.

Naturally, Shippo passed his test with flying colours. His sensei was particularly impressed by his observation of both human and inuyoukai emotions in particular.

He decided to use the spell on himself several months later, laughing and chasing Rin around the village, happy to see the yellow aura dancing around her. Something of note he noticed when rushing by was a certain miko and demon lord practising archery together in a field. As Kagome corrected his large stance, hand guiding his elbow down slightly as he aimed, the warm colours of pinkish red and magenta entwined, lacing like long, seeking fingers gently interlocking.

End

#sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Sesshoumaru #Kagome Higurashi #sesskag fanfiction

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littledrummeraussie · 3 years

Text

pillowtalk. / a Mr. Irwin blurb

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: soft and cute and fluffy with some angst to spice it up.

Author’s note: this is a continuation of my Mr. Irwin blurbs, following the events of backseat rendezvous and who’s the boss?

masterlist. / general masterlist.

- - - - -

“Maybe we should take a shower,” Ashton’s fingers lazily ran through your hair as the two of you lay in bed, a sheet wrapped around your bodies to keep you warm.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you hummed, making Ashton huff out a laugh as you drew patterns on his stomach.

“Stop tickling me,” he pulled your hand up onto his shoulder, giving you a pointed look. “You’re gonna wake the beast.”

“Tell the beast he left me sticky and unable to walk,” your lips pulled into a cheeky smile before moving closer to Ashton’s ear, whispering. “My legs are still shaky. And I can still feel your cum dripping out of me.”

“It’s my favourite way to mark you,” his lips attached themselves to your jaw, sucking a kiss into your skin.

“Like that one time you fucked me before my presentation?” your giggles filled the room as he smeared kisses along your cheek. “Still don’t know how I was able to stumble through that.”

“You did amazingly, that’s why we extended your internship,” Ashton pushed himself up onto his elbow, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I wouldn’t call that ‘stumbling through’ your presentation.”

“I was really… really… really distracted…” your finger followed the inked lines of his moon tattoos, stroking your palm up to his biceps, eyes settling on his hazel ones. “Are you sure I didn’t get the extension because of you?”

“It was all your charm and ambition, sweet girl,” Ashton leaned forward to peck your lips, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “Come on, let’s clean you up, you messy girl!”

With that he climbed out of the bed, reaching back for you to pick you up in his arms. You squealed and hid your laugh against his neck as he took you to the bathroom, never saying no to your boyfriend taking care of you. Ashton was quick to find the perfect temperature, pulling you under the water to warm you up, his lips already pressing kisses along your neck and shoulder. You leaned back against the wall, still not trusting your legs to work after the orgasm he pulled out of you, and he squeezed your hips, pressing one last kiss onto your temple before reaching for the shower gel.

“Are you okay?” his palms smoothed over your skin, following the curves of your body. “You’re not sore, are you?”

“Just a little,” you slowly turned around to let Ashton wash your back, and he hummed in response, pressing his lips against a hickey he left on the back of your neck. “You know I love feeling it – feeling you even after we’re done.”

“Noted,” he pressed another kiss to the junction of your neck, rubbing his cheek against yours. “Always thankful for reminders and confirmations.”

“Do I have to remind you, Mr. Irwin, that my thighs are still sticky?” you chuckled as he tried to chase your lips with his own, and Ashton let out a laugh, hands teasingly sliding between your legs and running down your inner thighs.

“Can confirm. Definitely sticky,” he lightly bit the shell of your ear, stifling his own giggles against your hair. “Alright, let me clean you up, this time for real.”

He spent the next few minutes making good on his promise, after which you also helped him wash off your shared pleasure. Ashton quickly tied a towel around his waist, wrapping another around your body, then guided you back to the bedroom. He made sure you were dried off from head to toe, lips kissing away water drops sliding down your skin, making you blush and mumble when he stood up in front of you, both of your cheeks warm, smiles bashful, but flirty.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” his fingers curled under your chin, tilting your head up to kiss you. “Then we can snuggle up for tonight. Is that okay with you, sweetie?”

“Sounds perfect,” you pressed a kiss onto his palm, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

Ash nodded and went into his closet while you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. He was already wearing a pair of shorts when he returned, holding out his shirt for you to pull it over your head, squeezing your hips and kissing your forehead when you were wrapped up in the soft fabric. You fluffed up the pillows and climbed back under the blankets while Ashton made sure the door was locked and all the lights were off in the house, then he joined you, arms curling around you the moment he slid under the sheets next to you.

“Hey you,” his voice was only a whisper, fingers combing through your hair as you both found a comfortable position, arms wrapped around each other and bodies pressed close.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow across the room, giving off enough light so you could see each other in the dark. Your palm rested on Ashton’s face, thumb lightly rubbing his cheek as his fingers settled on the back of your neck, playing with the soft hairs at the nape. He was only a breath away – you felt hot puffs of air tickling your skin as he exhaled, his nose nuzzling yours sweetly, a wordless game you’ve been playing since the very first night you’ve spent together.

“Hey,” your lips brushed against his in an almost kiss, making Ashton tilt his head forward just a bit to close the distance between the two of you.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight. You looked breathtaking. You still are.”

“Guess company parties are our thing,” your finger trailed down his neck and over his collarbone, connecting the freckles on his skin with an invisible line. “Somehow I always end up… right here. In your bed. With you.”

“Are you complaining, Miss?” he quirked an eyebrow at you and you giggled, shaking your head.

“No. It’s my favourite place. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. And it’s definitely not just the sex – it’s you, Ash.”

“Do you think I’m good enough for you?” he lightly brushed a lock of hair behind your ear and you moved your head to kiss his palm again. “A good enough boss? A good enough boyfriend?”

“Why are you asking?” you nuzzled against his hand, giving him a soft look. “Did something happen?”

“Just wanted to talk about something with you,” he leaned up onto his elbow, resting his head against his palm, running a fingertip down your nose. “And it kinda involves both our professional and personal lives.”

“It’s about my internship, right?” you rested you head back against the pillow, looking up at Ashton who just nodded. “Did I do something wrong?”

“God no,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. “That’s the thing – you do an absolutely phenomenal job. And I’m torn because what I should be doing and what I want to do are two different things.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Two more months and your internship will be done. Meaning I either have to offer you a job or write a recommendation letter and let you find another one. Which means… fuck, I can’t do this,” Ashton let out an annoyed huff, nervously running his fingers through his hair.

“Hey, it’s okay! Just tell me,” you stroked his cheek lovingly, trying to calm him.

“If we keep working together…” he curled his hand around yours, resting both of them against his face. “Then I’m not sure we can stay together.”

“Protocol?” you bit your bottom lip, already catching on to what Ashton was saying.

And you knew he was right – of course you couldn’t keep this up forever. All of this was too good to be true, the job and the man you’ve loved. Of course you could only keep one in the end; there was no way the Universe would let you have both. That was just too much.

“Something like that. I mean… God, Y/N, do you even know how much I want to just tell everyone to fuck off and give you a permanent place in the office? How I want to tell all of them to mind their own business and focus on work instead of our relationship?” Ashton’s expression was sombre, and you knew it was really hurting him to have this conversation with you.

“I guess it’s not that easy with three interns, right?” your fingers tangled into his hair, lightly brushing through the messy locks, both to keep comforting him, but also to keep your own hands occupied.

“All of you were meant to stay for 6 months. I’ve thought that once your internship will be done then maybe we can have a normal relationship. I didn’t know that the leadership board would offer you another 6 months,” Ashton confessed, and that made you stop in your track.

“I’ve really thought you were the reason why I’ve got to stay. I’ve thought you somehow convinced them.”

“Told you it was your hard work and amazing ideas,” he leaned forward to press his lips against your forehead, giving you a small smile. “I only had to agree that we can keep working with you. And in all honesty? I was already composing my speech of how I wanted to ask you to come and get dinner with me after we were done. You know, like an official date.”

“You still did that,” you reminded him, and a grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Can’t let a good speech and a dinner reservation go to waste.”

“You’re so silly,” a giggle left your lips, breaking the tension for a short moment. “So what now?”

“I mean, I can either offer you a job here, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m only keeping you because… well, they think I’m only fucking you because I’m the boss and you’re only an intern,” Ashton rested back against the pillows, curling his arm around your shoulder as his eyes searched the darkness.

“So if you offer me the job, and not to the others, then everyone will think I’ve only gotten it because you want to keep fucking me, and not because I’m good at what I’m doing,” you came to the conclusion, and Ashton hummed in response. “But if we stop seeing each other then they can’t claim that I’m only here because I’m a good fuck.”

“You’re much more than just a good fuck, sweet girl,” Ashton cradled your head against his chest, and you turned to cuddle up to him, his lips brushing soft kisses on your temple. “Not to mention that you’ve gotten the internship on your own. I didn’t have to do anything with it, just signed your papers that we want to work with you. But I did the same for the others too.”

“So I guess we should go with the second option?” you moved until you could fold your arms over his chest, resting your chin on top of them as you looked at him. “You don’t offer me a permanent place and I just find a job elsewhere. Even though I would love to stay, and not just because of you.”

“I know some people. I could call them up if you’d like,” Ashton curled a lock of hair around his finger, brushing it behind your ear. “We could find you a job in no time.”

“That’s really nice of you Ash, but… I don’t want that,” you shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t want anyone to offer me a job just because I’m Mr. Irwin’s girlfriend.”

“I understand,” he nodded, fingers still brushing through your hair.

“Promise me!” you gave him a pleading look, not really believing his words. “Please, just… I know it would be so easy for you to just pick up the phone and ask a small favour from one of your partners. I know you have the power, but I want to do this on my own.”

“Y/N, sweetie,” Ashton’s hands locked around your arms, pulling you up until you were face to face with each other. “I would never go behind your back, you can trust me on that.”

He curled his fingers around your jaw, pulling your face closer to press your lips together in a short, sweet kiss. Even in the dark you could make out the honesty in those hazel eyes, and you felt guilty that you thought he would do something without you agreeing to it.

“I know you can do this on your own – you’re smart and ambitious and you know your way around your craft. They would be stupid not to hire you. I would do that, without a second thought, and it’s actually killing me that I can’t keep you in my team,” Ash knocked his forehead against yours, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “So that was the boss in me.”

“What about the boyfriend?” you whispered, fingers tangling into his hair again.

“The boyfriend in me says that I want to support you in any way I can,” he continued, his voice firm, but still soft around the edges. “And for that I have to accept that sometimes support means that I just stand by you and encourage you, without actually doing anything. Know that I really want the best for you, the best job, the best opportunities. But more importantly I want us to have a loving and honest relationship. I would much rather have your trust than anything else in this world. I know I can’t have it if I start seeking out people to give you a job.”

“You don’t know how much I appreciate that,” you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and Ashton wrapped you even more tightly to himself. “Thank you.”

“You make me so happy, sweet girl,” Ashton whispered in your ear, kissing it softly as he continued. “I wouldn’t risk it for the world. And if I can’t offer you an actual job, then I’m gonna write you one hell of a recommendation to make people want to work with you.”

“I love you so much,” you sighed against his skin, pressing a kiss onto his collarbone. “Not for this, but for everything that you are.”

“I know baby, I know,” you could hear the smile in Ashton’s voice. “I love you too. I promise you we will work this out, everyone else be damned.”

“That’s your boss voice, Ashton,” you giggled lightly, and you felt him squeeze your hips.

“I’ve thought you liked my boss voice,” he teased you, giving a small bite to your ear. “I remember someone moaning Mr. Irwin again and again…”

“Well, he’s hot,” you opened one eye as you looked up at him, a cheeky smile pulling at your lips. “But not as hot as my boyfriend Ashton.”

- - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon @castaway-cashton @spicycal

#ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin blurb #mr irwin blurb #fiction time #afic: mr irwin

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with-love-anu · 4 years

Text

The reading nook

PAIRING: Loki x Reader

Sighing, you set up the last stack of books into its case. Why could people not learn to keep the things where they picked it from? “The Reading Nook“ was a library cum bookstore you inherited from your father. It was a cute little shop present just by the corner of a street next to a café. You had a bunch of loyal customers and a bunch of college students who were always in and out. That still left you with a lot of time and in those moments, you drew. The doorbell tinged as a young man with long raven hair came in. You recognized him immediately. How could you not? They were all over the news. You didn’t let that fact deter you. You greeted him with your customary smile.

“Hello! Is there something I could help you with?” you said as he looked at you.

“No, I’ll be good. Can you just point me towards a place where I would not get disturbed?” he asked as you nodded. You pointed towards the farthest couch behind a shelf. He strode towards it without sparing you another glance. You shook your head getting back to your own desk. You worked on your latest piece, getting up to help some customers when needed. It was just around closing time when Loki strode up to you and bought a book and left without another word.

You sighed. It had been a long day.

***

The god continued to come at your little library almost daily. He would move to the corner sit there all day long and leave near the closing time. Sometimes he would buy a book or two, or a new pen or diary you’d put on display. It was quiet. You never quite expected him to be such, being a literal prince in his own world. But then again, he always dressed as if he was ready to meet the queen. You guessed the things he went through rather quieted him. There was always so much emotion in his dark green eyes, you often got lost in them while he talked to you. You hoped he didn’t notice. You had the unexplainable urge to sketch him, only to chastise yourself for thinking so.

There was a sound at the door and you turned to see Mr. Wron. You clenched your eyes shut before moving towards him. He was a nightmare.

“Hello Mr. Wron. How can I-“ you started as he just raised his hand in an indication to stop. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I would like some history books on the Nazi Period.” He demanded.

“Of course.” You said leading him to the place where the god sat. He didn’t even notice you both coming. Or rather, ignored you. You busied yourself taking out a number of books to show Wron. He was never quite pleased with anything.

“Ho ho ho! Aren’t you the monster who tried and failed to take over the earth?” his nasty voice came as you felt a chill run down your spine. You turned to look at them. Loki pretended not to listen to what was just said and was still immersed in his book. You tried to divert the situation.

“Mr. Wron, here are the boo-“ you said as he scoffed.

“How dare you let such filth enter this bookstore!” he said as you felt an unexplainable anger wash over you.

“MR. WRON! I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. Now, would you like any of these books before leaving?”

“You’re defending him?”

“I very much am. Now if you’ll cho-”

“Oh please! I’m your biggest donator, I have a say in what happens in this shop.”

“Mr. Wron we’ve never begged you to donate anything. I decide what happens here and I’ve decided that Mr. Loki would stay.” You said seething. You couldn’t let him get away with what he said. Loki had done nothing wrong, it had been explained several times over the television and if he was even a bit of the cruel person everyone deemed him to be he wouldn’t have helped you keep back every book the other day. You already had enough of this man taunting you at everything you did.

“Well then, I wouldn’t hesitate to stop my monthly fee.” He said glaring at you.

“That’s your own wish, now take your damn book and leave.” You said as he stalked closer to you. You thought he would hit you but a hand stopped him. You turned to see Loki grabbing his hand putting it away.

“She said leave.” He said furiously as your mouth dried. Mr. Wron cowered and shot you a nasty glance before leaving, slamming the door behind him. You cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry about that.” You said as the god scrutinized you.

“You didn’t do anything.” He said calmly. “Is he a partner in holding this store?”

“No, but he donates a huge amount which keeps things smooth. It’s my parent’s library.”

“I see.”

He moved to sit back on the couch and you bit your lip contemplating how to thank him for saving you.

“What do you want to say?” he asked, not looking up from his book.

“Thank you… for saving me.” You breathed as he looked up at you with a stoic expression, nodding. You sighed, going back to your desk.

***

Your eyes widened as you re-read the email the bank sent to you.

“The Stark industries has made a donation of $10,000 to the ‘The Reading Nook’”

It cannot be. That would cover every pending payment of the shop. You pinched yourself to remind yourself this all was real. You had been struggling so much to make ends meet and losing Mr. Wron had affected the finances more than you’d care to admit. There was a bell at the door as the familiar god strode in. He went straight towards his spot as you opened and closed your mouth thinking about what you would say. You went towards him hesitantly as he looked through the shelves for yet another book. Your heart was already jumping up and down at a miraculous pace.

“Mr. Loki-“

“Just Loki, please. I never quite understood midguardian terms of reverence.” He said as you nodded.

“Loki. You didn’t have to. I was-“ you started as he turned towards you.

“This is the most bearable shops in this place. I wanted to.” He said as you just hugged him tightly. You had been relieved so much by the news and couldn’t. He smelled of mint and spice. You sighed, feeling yourself relax.

“Thank you so so much. This shop means the world to me and I don’t know if I could repay you.” You mumbled as Loki stood frozen. He cleared his throat.

“You could by not squeezing the air out of me.” He said as you shook yourself, pulling back at once. Loki didn’t seem to like the loss of contact.

“Thank you.” You said one last time, before scurrying off. You knew he liked to be left alone.

Loki looked at your retreating figure. He hadn’t expected you to be so humble. A small smile overtook his features. No-one here had ever talked to him like he was normal, and you’d always done that. Defending him from the man who helped your shop grow? It had warmed his heart. Perhaps not everyone on this planet was selfish.

***

Loki frowned at the small parcel you held before him.

“I really wanted to thank you. I know it’s not much. But, really, I could not be more grateful. I’ve been told I’m quite good at baking so…” You said handing him the packet. He took it cautiously peering inside to find a small cake box containing brownies and a black leather bound diary and a sleek pen. Exactly how he liked his stationery. He gulped before looking at you again.

“Thank you for this generous present (Y/n).” he said softly as your eyes widened a little. Your heart fluttered at the way it sounded coming from him.

“You know my name?” you asked as the god rolled his eyes.

“I hear it being shouted by all kinds of customers who come here. And you’re quite a lady” He said as you tried hard not to blush more.

“I’ll go then.” You said in a squeaky voice, leaving. Loki tried hard not to slap himself. You’re quite a lady?

***

Something shifted after that. Silence turned into small talks and eventually actual conversations. It was mostly you who talked, him who listened. You always felt like you would bore him but he held on to each of your word. When you would ask him about his, he would usually tell something about ‘useless’ missions and Stark and the other avengers. You would lightly smile at it thinking how different your two worlds were, yet Loki made it seem like nothing. Very rarely he would tell you about Asgard, you’d be patient so as to not push him. He would tell you how his mother taught him magic. You always looked at him in awe of how he held himself, how many stories he had to share.

You took him to the café next door to have him try coffee and other delights. He had raised an eyebrow at the drink and had commented something about Midgaurdians needed energy boosts all the time as you’d rolled your eyes. You, for a fact knew that he quite loved baked goods. Still, you kept going out to the minimum because of the number of stares you’d get from people who would point at the two of you. You understood his decision of staying cooped up in a far corner. You’d bring him lunch along with yours, a thing that touched him to the core. You would often bake him cookies, knowing how much he loved them.

You yawned adding some last shades to your drawing. Vishnu: the hindu god of life. You had been studying Indian art for quite some time and were mesmerized. You had to try it yourself. There was a cough as you looked up to see Loki standing at the desk awkwardly.

“I’ve finished the collection there and am quite bored to start a new one. Why don’t you entertain me by showing me your art? I’ve seen you working on it far too many times.” He said as you stifled a giggle.

“I would hardly call my art entertaining.” You teased as he rolled his eyes. You bit your lip. You weren’t a great fan of showcasing your art but something told you, showing Loki wouldn’t be so bad. You handed him the book carefully, your heart thumping as he looked at each passing piece.

“You have quite a talent.” He whispered looking at the latest work. You flushed.

“My mother taught me how to draw. She was a great artist herself.” You said as something flicked in his eyes.

You looked at him as he smiled. You knew it was genuine. It wasn’t the smirk he gave people.

“I would love to draw you.” You blurted, not being able to help yourself. Loki’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Me?” he said as you nodded.

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

***

Loki sat in a visible couch for the next few days so you could see him easily. As you drew him slowly, you wondered whether it was an excuse to blatantly stare at him. He was beautiful, there was no doubt in that. Black, dark locks licking his cheekbones which were as sharp as a knife. Pink soft looking lips, and pale skin. He was soft yet cutting at the same time. But his eyes were what had captured you the most. You flushed as he looked at you.

Loki had found it difficult to concentrate on his book when you studies him like that. He tried not to let a pink blush cover his cheeks to match the fluttering of his heart. Loki looked at you wrapping up.

A few strokes and it was done. You sighed looking at your final work. A pathetic attempt at capturing something so real and full of emotions. You saw Loki coming towards you and felt nervous again. He would want to see it. You had not let him even glance at the unfinished work no matter how much he tried or pouted. It had proven to be difficult. You just handed him the book, before finally having the courage to look at him. He stared at it with an un-readable expression. Your mind was numb imaging all the things he might be thinking.

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered at last looking at you as you felt all air leave your lungs. You didn’t know what got over you. You moved up and pressed your lips against his, pulling back quickly, realizing what you were doing. You looked at Loki with pleading eyes wishing you didn’t push him away. Loki cupped your cheek with his hand and pulled to kiss you again. His lips devoured you as you felt your mind zoom. All the emotions raging you for months coming out all together. It was like you were on fire. You pulled back to breathe, pressing your forehead against his chest. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer.

“Are you sure you want this, love?” He whispered as you wrapped your hands around him looking at him. He stared at you so softly, you felt like you could melt.

“I cannot wish for anything better.” You whispered back.

A/N: Ahahaha my very first Loki fic and it’s pure fluff! Tell me what you think!

#loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #marvel #loki fanfiction

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havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

An Interlude — Warmth Under the Covers

The Master of Chaldea — Ritsuka Fujimaru — checks in on his allies, only to find them slacking off yet again.

What’s a Guda to do?

[POV-Ritsuka]

—

I am a Master of Chaldea.

That is what I am — nothing more, nothing less.

The guy operating the summoning system most of the time — one of the two guys who keeps the contracts between the Servants that Chaldea summons.

Mash’s Senpai.

I’m a Cause, and so is my coworker.

“...That’s right. That makes me a badass now, sort of!”

I can feel my fingers run through my hair as I wink at the mirror before me. Comparing my two options to figure out which one I preferred in the Combat Uniform, I ran over my daily routine.

Step one, of course, was figuring out how much I wanted to do myself up in the morning. The Chaldea bathrooms had the perfect lighting to check my face and skin, ensuring my skincare routine was up to snuff. Making sure my eyes weren’t bloodshot from the two hours’ sleep — making sure the bags under my eyes were concealed with a little bit of makeup.

“It’s like every day, Suzie’s training becomes a little more useful.”

That’s right — a closer look, and my cheeks were smooth as a baby’s bottom — my eyes as normal as they could get, considering their bright orange shade. At least the curtains matched the windows — always something that did bother me about my other look, that my hair wasn’t blue.

“...Then again, that would look awful with the uniform.”

The thought made my spine shiver. Like a genderswapped Rei — not bad, but not exactly the visual I liked seeing.

Truly, it was preferable to have that set form — anything else would be nauseating to even think about.

“...That should do it.”

Yes, truly — I looked perfectly fine, now. Care had to be taken to ensure I looked like my best.

That, of course, was easier than worrying the others.

...

...The bathrooms led to the Chaldea halls, just as well as they led to my quarters. Why the creators did this always confused me — even moreso, that the doors were one-sided, and were flush with the wall, so you couldn’t even get back in.

“Goddamned mages and their one-way bathroom door magic.”

Adjusting the plugsuit that never failed to get bunched up near my arm, and trying to imagine the map of Chaldea in my head, I put one foot in front of the other and started course to the cafeteria. Simply a hop, skip, and approximately twenty-five different hallways that look exactly the same away — my only saving grace being how many times I’ve made this journey before.

That, and the burning Olive Garden due east of the Cafeteria, whose smoke signalled the food area from a mile away.

And for much of the trip, it was the same as it always was — simply my footsteps echoing in an empty hallway, the only accompaniment being the odd intercom message from Da Vinci letting the staff know of a Singularity that had only recently cropped up.

“Just calling to let you all know that we will begin our scheduled Rayshift in four days~! Prepare yourselves for it!”

...We never really had a break. Even walking down these empty, empty halls, my footsteps served only to momentarily break up the endless thoughts of what came next.

‘A mystery Singularity. Is that what it is? I’ve never heard of it. We had the four Pseudo-Singularities handled already. There shouldn’t be any Pillars left! On top of that, we still don’t know the first thing about its location, and even if we did...’

Tap.

‘...It’s not like we can do anything to stop it. All my research, and nothing about this makes any sense at all. Maybe a Foreigner could do it, but—‘

Tap.

‘—Why? There’s no reason to make a Singularity anymore. No Demon Pillars left. The Lostbelts are already destroying mankind. There’s nothing left to do. And—‘

Tap.

‘...We need a break. We need a break from this — from ALL of this. Cadence needs a break, and that’s to say nothing of myself. Can’t we have a moment to sleep..?! Can’t we have even a second to rest our eyes, snooze, and..?!’

The smoke overwhelmed my thought. Against the harsh fumes of a burning building, and the strange smell of spice, rational thought was impossible to maintain — and the growing headache of a nightmare-riddled sleep wasn’t exactly helping matters.

Tap.

It wasn’t far now, surely. Another step forward, and —

...

...Between the tables of the cafeteria, there lay a kotatsu.

I made it with Da Vinci’s help just a few days before. A little wooden table, at least compared to the surrounding cafeteria tables — a red blanket sort of thing, and a heater underneath that Da Vinci cleverly placed carefully to avoid burning oneself. It could sit, I reckoned, four people on a good day —

—I didn’t account for Gorgon, clearly.

Finally directing my gaze to what was coming out of the blanket of the kotatsu — and moving forward as to get the damned Olive Garden smoke out of my eyes — I was met first with the ever-clear figure of Gorgon. Eyes just barely shut, a hand positioned to form a makeshift pillow, and a tail surrounding something out of view, she drew a figure much unlike what I’d previously seen — only made a little more curious with the resting Lobo just behind her, which made its resting spot close to her in order to be as warm as possible. Hessian, for what it was worth, was still awake, sitting at a table nearby — offering me a wave of recognition as I returned my gaze to the table.

Jeanne Alter lay — more accurately, sat — at the kotatsu, almost as if she were awake, her hand still gently grasping a bag of chips that had by now spilled across the oak surface of the table. If it weren’t for her loud snoring, and her face smushed against the table, she would’ve had me convinced she was still awake.

Circling around, I found an Artoria that seemed quite familiar — Lancer, clad in a black turtleneck sweater, dark grey jeans, and her esteemed headpiece, resting her head on her hand and looking almost wistfully at whatever Gorgon had wrapped up in her tail. Even as I approached, she didn’t even look back in recognition — as if I never existed at all, or as if she were staring through a window that wouldn’t accommodate for anything Ritsuka-shaped.

And as I followed her unshifting gaze, I found —

—Wrapped in Gorgon’s tail, a young lady, sharp black hair tied up in an impressive style I couldn’t quite describe. Her face, uncovered by a mask I’d grown accustomed to seeing, seemed at peace — eyes gently shut, arms wrapped around...

“...Cadence, you motherfucker.”

The careful, wistful gaze of Lancer Alter, the comically tight squeeze of a sleeping Gorgon, and the gentle hold of Ushiwaka, all contained a cowardly Master that somehow bonded with the most hateful, evil beings alive.

In a sense, it would bring about the ultimate safety, being around those that would always fight to protect that which they care of — even if their ultimate fate is to burn all that lives, surely some safety remained in keeping close to those who would protect you from anything they hated most.

“...This guy claims he’s a one-on-one sort of guy, yet he ends up like this.”

...It wasn’t like I had any right to complain — I did have Mash, and that was utter perfection, so I supposed he had the right to find a portion of that.

“...I’m never letting him live this down.”

“...Ritsuka.”

...I glanced over to Lancer Alter, who seemingly only now clued into my existence — her almost hazy eyes, as if overlaid with a world both like and unlike reality, gazed both at me — and through me.

“What is it?”

“...Rest well. Your journey will not end so easily — you would do well to follow his lead.”

...Her gaze moved back to Cadence, who hadn’t moved a muscle. If not for the subtle sound of his breath, I’d have presumed him dead — though he wouldn’t have much room to move, the way he was.

“...I don’t think I can rest that well, Lancer. He’s got two ladies keeping him warm, and a third keeping an eye on him. Can’t tell me I’ll ever rest like that.”

...At that, the Lancer only smirked.

“...It shocks me as much as any other, Ritsuka, that this has happened. But... You have your own who would be all too willing to provide, no?”

I could hear myself let out a snort in a desperate attempt not to laugh.

“Only one with Ritsuka cuddle privileges is Mash. Serenity gets a pass, but the others terrify me.”

“...So be it. Find those two, and rest. If that is how you rest best, then so be it.”

...Keeping a close look at her eyes, the fog faded ever-so-slightly as she kept watch over the other Master. I reckoned it was probably due to the contract being transferred to him — though Cadence did always have the strange habit of bringing Alters down to earth. If he weren’t so scared of the others...

“...You do the same, Lancer. Don’t watch over the guy forever. If you wanna get in there, Gorgon could probably fit you, too.”

As I briefly procured me phone to snap a picture of the scene before me, to tease Cadence with later, Lancer only laughed back.

“I am already dreaming, Ritsuka. I have no need to rest.”

“Right, right.”

Even as I turned around, and began setting foot outside the cafeteria with a wave Lancer’s way, my eyes remained on the photo of Cadence.

A lot had changed — a lot would still yet change.

Friends had been made in unlikely places, enemies made of friends, and friends of enemies.

But in all this, even a guy as paranoid as Cadence found time to rest — he found company with Avengers, and those more evil than he could even hope to be, and he found safety in their loyalty and affection, so it seemed.

...

“...I guess I don’t need to worry about him, hm?”

...It was best to listen to that Lancer while I still had time —

—while, instead of the ceaseless nightmares, I would dream instead about teasing the coward that remained so affectionately in such a silly place.

...Perhaps it was time to dream.

#fgo #mastersona #gudasona #l o r e #ritsukaloreposting

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Nothing More ⍋Routledge!Reader⍋

request - Omg do a Routledge reader fic where John B is so focused on telling off JJ and warning him not to da*te his sister and he never worries about Pope and then Pope ends up dating her and John B is like 👁️👄👁️

warnings - none really, just a bunch of fluff I guess pairings - pope x reader, jj x reader, kie x reader (it’s a surprise 🥰) synopsis - You’re secretly dating one of the Pogues and your brother is starting to become suspicious. The only problem; he’s fixated on the wrong friend. a/n - So, I went a little bit off the rails with this one. I had an idea and I ran with it, I really hope you don’t mind haha. I’m sorry it’s a little short.

*** John B watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye. Your head rested in JJ’s lap and he fiddled with your hair. You weren’t paying enough attention to your brother to notice, listening intently instead to Kie as she rambled about astrology.

“Okay, so, I don’t know if I should be insulted when you call me a cancer or not,” JJ said, his chewed off nails grazing gently over your scalp. The movement made your eyes flutter shut.

“I didn’t call you a cancer, I said you are a Cancer.”

“I’m not hearing the difference.”

Kie rolled her eyes.

“It’s your star sign, dipshit,” you told him with your eyes closed. “The constellation you were born under.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Do you ever listen to a word I say?” Kie asked, half amused and half insulted.

“Not generally, no.” JJ said. u8hPope, who was sitting with his nose in a book, started to laugh quietly to himself. “If I’m a Cancer, what’s y/n’s sign?”

You looked over at Kie and raised your eyebrows.

“Taurus,” Kie said with a knowing smile. You tapped your foot against her knee and rolled your eyes. “Pope is a Capricorn and John B, you’re an Aries.”

John B didn’t seem to be paying attention at all. He kept his gaze fixed solely on you.

Being John B’s half sister (younger only by four months) meant almost every single move you made was heavily scrutinized. Especially when it came to boys. More often than not, John B was far more concerned with whatever you were doing than the conversation at hand. Today wasn’t an exception.

“J, can I talk to you real quick?” John B said, pushing himself out of the dirt. JJ looked up at him and then down at you. With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you sat up, letting JJ stand after your brother. You turned and leaned your head against Kie’s leg.

“Hi,” she said, smiling down at you.

“Hi,” you said back.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Pope asked, looking up at John B and JJ a few yards away behind a tree.

“I bet he’s telling him off again,” you said, moving your eyes to look at the boys in the distance.

“Really?” Pope sighed. “Again?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“JB just takes the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule way too seriously,” Kie said with a laugh.

“He’s the only one who hasn’t broken it, so of course he’s serious about it,” Pope said, looking back at his book.

“’She’s my baby sister, JJ’,” you grumbled in a gruff voice in imitation of your brother.

“’She’s not a kid anymore. She can make her own decisions’,” Kie whined, lamely mocking JJ.

The two of you continued your dialogue, pretending like you knew exactly what was going on between the two of them. It dissolved into silly quips back and forth and then just senseless laughter. By the time JJ and John B returned, you and Kie were in hysterics. John B looked like he had been sucking on a lemon, but JJ was just smiling like normal.

When he sat down, you lifted your legs and dropped them over his lap. JJ leaned back, raising his eyebrows at John B, almost like a direct challenge. You looked over at Pope and the two of you smiled. You even sent him a wink, knowing full well that John B was paying far more attention to JJ than to you or Pope or Kie.

All any of you could do was laugh.

***

The party was in full swing. Kie and Pope were sitting, sipping on beers and laughing about something or another. John B was with Sarah Cameron, his girlfriend, by the keg, still passing out beers to whoever wanted one.

You and JJ were on the dance floor. His hands were on your waist, his body pressed up against you from behind. You could feel the heat from his body pulsing off of him and you could smell his sweat and Old Spice. The music thrummed through your system as you lifted your hands to wrap around his neck. With you eyes closed, you let the rest of the world pass away, relishing in JJ’s touch.

By the time the heat of dancing got to be too much and you and JJ were stumbling away from the dancers, John B was no longer at his station. Instead, he was standing angrily off to the side. You and JJ glanced at each other, rolling your eyes in sync, electing to head toward Pope and Kie instead of risking your brother’s anger.

JJ sat next to Pope, flinging an arm around your shoulders as you sat between him and Kie. The four of you spent the rest of the night laughing it up, drinking, playing whatever games anyone offered them to play, and generally having a good time.

It was around 2 am when the five of you made it back to the Chateau. John B was still looking sour, especially after Sarah left early to make it home before curfew. You knew that you couldn’t keep lying to your brother forever and he had just about reached his breaking point.

When you all walked in to the Chateau, John B was pressed up against the wall, his arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed.

“I’m calling a meeting,” he said. You had all expected it, so it wasn’t really a surprise. Still, it was crack ass early and you all wanted nothing more than to pass out. You walked over to the counter and lifted yourself up onto the counter. JJ moved to settle between your legs, but with a sharp look from John B, he elected to go elsewhere. Kie leaned up against the counter next to you.

“I think you know why we’re here,” John B said.

“This isn’t an AA meeting, JB. Just get on with it,” JJ snapped, clearly too tired to deal with this any longer.

“Fine. JJ, y/n, I know you two have been fooling around the past couple months despite the clear line that I drew and I want to know what the fuck is up with that.”

You heaved out a heavy sigh, tapping your heel against the creaky cupboard below.

“You really don’t know much of anything,” JJ told him, getting more and more irritated by the minute.

“You think I’m blind?”

“No, I think you’re stupid.”

“Okay, enough!” You shouted, lifting your head with a scowl before John B could cross the room. “John B, there’s something that I got to tell you that might make things a little less complicated.”

Kie tensed next to you, but you almost felt yourself start to laugh.

“What is it then?”

“I, uh-” You pressed your lips into a fine line to keep yourself from laughing. “I’m gay.”

John B’s eyes widened and he dropped his arms to his side.

“I- what?”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Yeah. JJ is my best friend, nothing more.” You glanced down at Kie, who was looking up at you with tears in her eyes and a proud smile on her lips. She had come out to the pogues months ago and had been waiting eagerly for the day when you felt comfortable to as well.

“y/n,” John B said, his voice breaking. He looked at the other three, who didn’t look surprised at all, and he realized that he was the last one to know. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable telling me. But I’m proud of you and I love you.”

You smiled at him.

“Thanks, bub. But there’s something else that I should tell you. I have been seeing someone,” you told him. John B stayed silent, clearly not wanting to say anything before you had finished, but he looked tense. “Yeah, uh, Kie and I have been dating for almost a year now.”

“What?”

You felt yourself smile. It was good to finally be able to say it. Kie put her hand on your knee, smiling up at you, and gave a little squeeze.

“Did...you guys know about this?” John B asked, looking over at Pope and JJ who seemed to have no reaction to your deceleration whatsoever. They both nodded slowly. When John B looked at you with a face full of hurt, you thought you might as well explain.

“A few months ago, back when you were hanging out with Sarah for every second of the day, we went to a party on the boneyard,” you told him. “It was just after Kie and I started dating and we were dancing together, chatting, whatnot, not really hiding it, but these guys kept saying gross things, people giving us looks, you know.

“We were getting super uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but JJ and Pope figured it out before we even told them. They’ve been...covering for us, I guess. And we’ve been-” You looked over at JJ and Pope. JJ looked at the ground and Pope looked straight at you, a small, proud smile on his face. “I guess, we’ve been covering for each other.”

“Since we’re being honest all of the sudden for some reason,” JJ said with a sigh, lifting his head. “Pope and I have been going out, too.”

He turned his head to look at John B, who looked like his head was seconds away from exploding.

“I flirted and hung around your sister so that no one would say that disgusting “threesome” shit to her and Kie and so that Pope and I could keep things under the radar for a little bit longer.” JJ uncrossed his arms and reached out, lacing his fingers through Pope’s.

Now, you couldn’t help but smile either. It had been a heavy weight on your chest, keeping such a big secret from your brother. But he told Sarah everything and, although you loved Sarah to death, you weren’t sure she would be able to keep something like this to herself. It was best if all of it just stayed between the four of you until you were all comfortable with it.

“Are you mad?” You asked John B as he covered his face with his hands. He let out a deep, thoughtful sigh, before lowering his hands and looking up at the four of you with a beaming smile on his face.

“How could I be mad?” He looked at you directly, tears swimming in your eyes. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

You placed your hand over Kie’s, tracing your finger over her knuckles.

“The happiest I’ve been in a long time.” Which was easily translated to “The happiest I’ve been since Dad died”.

“I was so fixed on keeping you away from JJ, I thought....” John B stopped to laugh at himself.

“You weren’t thinking straight,” you finished with a sympathetic nod.

“Or you were thinking too straight,” Pope said, laughing at his joke. Kie and JJ looked at him with raised eyebrows, but you thought it was funny.

“Shit, man,” John B said, pushing himself off the wall. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

He walked over to you, pulling both you and Kie into a bear hug. He squeezed tightly, making you wheeze out laughter.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you said, pushing him away from you.

“We could go on triple dates!” He had the look of a kid in a candy shop, eyes wide as he glanced between you and Kie and JJ and Pope.

“Ooh, slow down there,” JJ said, putting up the hand that wasn’t holding Pope’s.

“We’ll do a double date someday,” Kie piped in. She pushed herself onto the counter next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

John B smiled at the two of you. He moved forward to give you guys another hug, but you put a hand against his shoulder and pushed him back.

“No more brotherly affection today,” you said. “I think I’ve had enough.”

John B sighed and took a step back.

“Are you going to yell at us any more or can we crash now?” JJ asked. “I’m beat.”

“Oh, no, we’re all good,” John B said. “Kie, can I talk to you real quick?”

You and Kie glanced at each other while JJ and Pope made their way toward the spare bedroom. You could hear the both of them snoring within seconds.

“I, uh, sure,” Kie said.

“Don’t try and steal my girlfriend from me now,” you said to your brother, only half smiling.

“Just gonna lay some ground rules,” John B said. You scowled for just a moment, opening your mouth to say something. “Hey, if it was JJ you were dating, I’d have the same rules.”

“What about no rules?” You suggested, tilting your head to the side. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re still not my dad.”

“I know. But I’m your brother and I’ll be damned before I let anyone hurt you...ever.”

“I understand that, but Kie has been nothing but good to me since we started dating. She doesn’t need your rules. She-”

“y/n, relax.” Kie said, putting a hand on your shoulder and giving you a loving smile. Then she turned to look at John B, that soft, kind smile never falling. “Let’s go talk somewhere.”

You watched as she followed after your brother onto the front porch. You felt like maybe you should go to your room, sit up and wait for Kie. But you couldn’t look away. John B donned his serious face, talking with his hands as he always did. Kie stood there in front of him, hands in her back pockets as goosebumps scattered up and down her arms. There was a smile on her face, hidden beneath a serious look.

Every once in a while, she glanced in through the Chateau window toward you. Once she even gave a wink. The conversation seemed to be going well enough. Still, you were almost surprised when John B opened his arms, inviting Kie in for a tight hug. You couldn’t help but smile.

John B walked back inside, a little strut in his walk.

“Night, sis,” he said, shooting you a thumbs up.

“Night, John.”

John B whistled all the way to his room. You laughed quietly, hanging your head and kicking your feet ever so slightly.

Kie walked back in and let out a content sigh. You lifted your head to look at her. She walked toward you, settling herself between your knees and resting her arms on your shoulders. You hooked your fingers through the belt loops of her denim shorts.

“Does it feel good?” She asked you quietly. “Knowing that he knows?”

You nodded your head, rolling your lower lip between your teeth.

“Yeah, it feels good. I wasn’t as scared as I thought I would be,” you told her. Kie put a hand on your cheek, brushing her thumb across your lips.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, her voice husky and quiet. You leaned forward and kissed her lips, gently, softly.

“So, what are our rules?” You asked her once you had pulled away, only keeping a breath between you and her.

“Oh, you know John B. No macking in front of him, no sex in the shared bathroom. Watch out for each other at parties, the same old, same old,” she said with an amused smile.

“That’s not so bad then,” you said, tugging on her belt loops to pull her closer. Kie let out one of her signature laughs that was almost near a giggle. It always made your heart pound in your chest.

You had been in love with this girl for as long as you knew her. Being able to hold her at night was one of the only things keeping you sane these days. Knowing that your brother was aware of your relationship made it all the better.

“Should we go to bed?” Kie asked and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yes please,” you whined. She took your hand with a smile and helped you down from the counter. You wrapped your arms around her waist and let her lead you back to your bedroom. You flopped onto your bed once safely inside and she laid down in front of you. Curling your arms around her waist, you smiled as you tucked face into the crook of her neck. You placed butterfly kisses against her shoulder and neck, humming softly to yourself.

“y/n,” she mumbled. “I can’t sleep when you’re doing that.”

You sighed and placed one more kiss against her shoulder before letting your eyes close finally.

“You smell good,” she whispered. You popped your eyes open.

“I thought we were sleeping.”

“I know, but I wanted you to know you smell good.”

“I smell like sweat.”

“The good kind.”

“I love you, Kie,” you told her quietly, letting your eyes shut once again.

“I love you, too.”

261 notes · View notes

just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 2

Day 2 - There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic RoSleep (Roman x Remy/Sleep), background Analogical

TWs: Mild Swearing from Remy __

“No, no, no, you move my 3 O’clock to 4, my 4 O’clock to 5, then cancel it. I don’t even want to have to look at that scumbag from accounting today, babes.”

Remy kept taking on his bluetooth headset as he approached the Starbucks he’d grown so accustomed to. Normally just inhaling the scent of ground coffee, vanilla, and cinnamon spice would be enough to flood his stressed cranium with serotonin. But that wasn’t going to cut it today.

Today he was on a mission; his soulmate timer had stopped during his visit here a week ago, and he was determined to find out who it’d stopped for. With his schedule cleared as much as possible, Remy walked into the Starbucks in his business attire, having only bothered to throw on his leather jacket when he’d left the office. Not that his outfit was unplanned, he had made a point of wearing the same white button up shirt, black waistcoat, and matching black slim cut pants he’d been wearing when he first noticed the timer had stopped. If not for making sure his soulmate recognised him, then simply because he looked damn good.

It was a gamble, assuming his soulmate would be there today, but by now he was desperate. Remy knew the rules; after exactly a week was up, his timer would disappear for good and he’d never know who his soulmate was. And he wasn’t about to let that shit fly. No sirree.

“Now, which one of you is it?”, Remy mumbled under his breath. As he stood just about to open the door and leave, Remy had memorised the men who were present in the cafe that fateful day; eight potential men, two eliminated visually over the first two days when he noted their timers were still going. Another three all eliminated themselves the days following as they revealed themselves to be straight, in a relationship, and very straight, in that order. Remy sighed impatiently as he perused the last three men he’d narrowed things down to.

The first was a short, burly man with chestnut brown hair that tickled his button nose while he leant over to pet the outrageously cute border collie sat by his chair. His cheeks were dusted with freckles that drew attention to his mossy green eyes and sunkissed skin. The blue polo shirt and tan shorts he wore clashed with the fact he clearly worked hard labour in the outdoors. Remy guessed he worked with plants going by his scuffed and dirty boots, and the mud on his pupper’s paws. Remy dubbed him, unsurprisingly, Dog Guy.

The second, Space Cadet, was a far departure from Dog guy; his auburn hair and pale skin spoke of celtic origins while his numerous books concerning the far reaches of the universe spoke of the cosmos. Of a man who harboured an intense scientific curiosity as deep as his sapphire eyes. His black shirt hidden under a dark blue flannel shirt showed the insignia of the local museum, which Remy found fitting. In the nicest way possible, Space Cadet looked like he belonged there with his pristine glasses and tidy upkeep that bordered on neurotic.

And the third man, Anxiety Magnet, was once more a drastic change from the other two. Dark skin melted into an all black outfit consisting of a black hoodie sporting custom purple patches - perhaps he made it himself, Remy couldn’t be sure - alongside black ripped skinny jeans. His purple sneakers matched his nailpolish and eyeshadow framing heterochromic brown and green eyes. Every time Remy would scope out the young man, he’d always be anxiously biting his nails, fidgeting with his napkins, or doodling in the notebooks (Remy noted three different ones at least) he brought with him.

Remy was in for a loooong ride but hopefully today he’d finally figure out which of these lucky doofuses is his soulmate.

He walked over to the counter to order his usual drink, giving the familiar barista a nod as the man recognised him,

“Afternoon, Remy,”, the barista smiled, “The usual for our beloved fairy godmother?”

Remy rolled his eyes fondly, “Roman, babes, kindly shut up.”

Roman laughed, “Come now, wouldn’t want you turning into the Evil Queen, would we?”

“Joke’s on you, babes, I like the Evil Queen.”

Roman feigned a dramatic gasp, only returning to making Remy’s usual once he’d secured a smile from the stressed office worker. Remy twirled his lanyard in his hands; Remy Merryweather. Of all names to be cursed with around a Disney fan like the barista, it HAD to be one of the uncool ones. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Roman hadn’t insisted on labelling his drinks with “Flora”, “Fauna”, and “Aurora” ever since. Remy didn’t dwell too long on the kindly barista though, he was a man on a mission.

Turning his attention to his first choice, Space Cadet, Remy watched him from the table he sat at; no wedding ring, his wrist was covered from sight, and he was most certainly gay going by the pride patches sewn into the backpack under his table. Perfect, he could just be the one.

As if on cue, Space Cadet shifted his watch and frowned. Perhaps he’d get lucky-

Ah, he’s leaving. Shit. Well, there was nothing else for it, Remy carefully nudged the trashcan by his seat as the man walked past, tripping him. The man let out a yelp and hit the floor. Remy was just getting up to help him when Anxiety Magnet came hurrying over out of the blue,

“You alright?! That looked painful....”

What the fuck. Remy was about to speak up when Space Cadet locked eyes with Anxiety Magnet and for a moment the two were silent as the latter checked his timer, prompting the former to do the same.

Son of a bitch.

Space Cadet sat up and reached a hand out to Anxiety Magnet, revealing that his timer had just stopped.

“Logan Baird, charmed to meet you, dear soulmate.”, he smiled warmly at the anxious man who helped him to his feet.

“Likewise,”,the anxious man responded, “Virgil Peyton. Nice to know my soulmate’s so handsome.”

Ugh. Remy watched as Space Cadet and Anxiety Magnet - or Logan and Virgil as he was now painfully aware - gathered up the fallen books and left together to go be happy and in love. While Remy could only watch as they did so.

Fantastic. Well, at least he knew who his soulmate must be now. Who knew Dog Guy would be the top dog? Admittedly, Dog Guy was Remy’s last choice in a partner, but hey, after all the trouble he went to, he wasn’t about to argue with fate. Once Roman brought him his order - an iced, Ristretto, ten shot venti, with five pumps of vanilla, seven pumps of caramel, four packs of Splenda, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top with “Prince Phillip” written on the cup this time - Remy made his way over to the lucky fellow.

“Excuse me, mind if I sit here?”, Remy asked as he approached the Dog Guy.

The man smiled warmly, “Oh, not at all, kiddo! Hope you don’t mind my dog or things might get ruff!“. The joke made Remy want to drive his head into the ground at mach speeds, but if they were soulmates, he’d learn to love it. Hopefully. Maybe.

“Like, no worries babes, your dog is totes cute.”, Remy noted the man’s cheerful smile. He sat down and offered his name, “I’m Remy, what about you?”.

“Ah, how rude of me! I’m Patton Fairchild! And this is Foster!”, he gestured to the collie, “It’s nice to meet you Remy!”. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad of a choice after all; he's bubbly, friendly, gentle, and Remy truly couldn’t deny the sexy lumberjack appeal.

“Likewise, though I hope I’m not intruding on anything here. Like, I don’t wanna take up your time if you’re here on a date or-”

“Goodness no, I’m not on a date! Don’t you worry, you’re not interrupting anything!”, he assured Remy.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t wanna get in the way of you and your soulmate, sweetie.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,”, Patton stated, sending Remy’s hopes soaring before they shattered on the marble floor, “I don’t have one. I mean, I love love and all that, but I never much felt the lure of it myself!”

God. Fucking. Dammit.

Remy’s face fell. None of them were his soulmate. He stayed to talk to Dog Guy- Patton for a while so as not to make the poor guy feel awkward, then watched him leave. Another failure with not enough time left to find his soulmate. Remy sat alone, sipping the dregs of his order. He ignored the constant texts from the office as he stayed til near closing time. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not paid attention when his timer hit zero? Maybe he deserved this; to be miserable and alone for his negligence. His soulmate probably wasn’t even missing him either. Or maybe they were and now they couldn’t find him-

“Mind if I sit here?”

Remy rolled his head towards Roman, taking in the sweet sympathy pouring from his rather lovely smile. In his hand he held a to-go cup and his work apron was replaced with a red and white letterman jacket. Great, now he was keeping the charming barista from going home. But when had Remy ever cared about not being selfish?

“Sure, take a fuckin’ seat, babes.“, he groaned, no longer caring about keeping up the facade of being more put together than he really was. Roman sat down with a concerned gaze and slowly slid the drink over to Remy.

“It’s green tea. It’s a little less extravagant than your usual tastes, but it’s good for relieving stress..”

Roman encouragingly tapped the cup lid, smiling contagiously, “And something tells me the Evil Queen has some tension she needs to release.”

Remy gave a slightly bitter laugh as he looked up from playing eye-contact-chicken with the table and noted the green tea read “Maleficent”. God, this guy’s such a dork.

“It’s more than just some tension, sweetie,”, Remy began, inhaling sharply as he sat up, “I’ve just realised I’m never going to find my soulmate. I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking and the moment I looked away, I missed him.”. The half-snort he gave came out so much more painful than intended, “I let my timer hit zero, babes, and now it’s almost been a full week. My last three chances just walked out the goddamn door. Two of them as fucking soulmates, Roman! How unfair is that?-”

Roman’s expression gave him pause. It wasn’t the sympathetic expression from before, more like he was seeing Remy for the first time. Like he’d made a cosmic realisation that was about to change his life.

“Your timer… when did yours stop exactly?”, he asked. The wording gave Remy pause as he realised.

He hadn’t accounted for Roman. How could he have been so blind? Perhaps he couldn’t believe the charming barista could be the one. Perhaps he thought the man who smiled genuinely at him every day while he whittled down potential soulmates and greeted him with only the kindest of regards was too good for someone like him.

“It… stopped on Wednesday-”

“Around 2:15 pm? During the lunchtime rush?!”, Roman cut in excitedly. Remy was aghast as Roman pulled back the wrist of his letterman and revealed a stopped timer about as faded as Remy’s. With no hesitation, anticipation growing, Roman gently reached for Remy’s hand, which the latter offered enthusiastically. To their mutual delight, their timers disappeared, proving that they were indeed soulmates.

Both were stunned, Roman’s expression wildly happy, his brown eyes sparkling with equal elation and adoration. As Remy took in his gorgeous tanned skin, beautiful mocha hair, and that wonderful chiseled face he had the growing urge to caress and litter with kisses, all he could say in the moment was,

“Does this mean you’ll finally spell my fucking name right?”

This one was so much fun to write! I think this is the one piece of writing where I mostly nailed Remy’s character, so I hope this one does well TTvTT @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #roman sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders #rosleep #soulmate september #coffee shop au #basically #fanfics #my fics #sleepingbeauty #thats the other name for the ship right #otherwise i put all the sleeping beauty references in there for nothing #anyway i really like this one ehe

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

The Word Of Your Body Duet (Roland x Rin Davies)

Andante, Andante

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: angst, bit of fluff mixed in with smut, one outdated word,

A/N: Everyone has their secrets, but sometimes we need someone to share them with. Roland just chooses his last night to let Rin in on his. This is a follow-up to Songbird

Roland sat on the edge of Rin's bed while she paced back and forth anxiously in front of him. Since he came over earlier in the evening, they only managed to kiss until their lips swelled. Rin had taken her gloves off, but refused to touch Roland anywhere with bare skin.

“I don't understand. You said I do nothing to ye?”

“You-you don't,” Rin stuttered. “At least not normally. This isn’t normal, Roland. We've known each other for over a year, and until yesterday neither of us have given any inkling that we are attracted to each other. I mean who wouldn't be attracted to you? Look at you, you're terribly handsome.”

Roland cocked an eyebrow, “Handsome in a terrible way. I'll admit t’the terrible part. I can be a bit..”

“Of a twat?”

“Much. It's the handsome part I don't know I’d agree with. There's not exactly a line around the block.”

“I just don't like surprises. I've had things happen.. To me. I can't take that again.”

Roland reached out and hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Rin’s jeans. He drew her down into his lap, his arms held her in place.

“First you’re giving me motion sickness watching all that back and forth. Second will ye just bloody touch me?! Anywhere, you'll see something I've never told anyone at this school. Not that I have friends besides you.”

Rin’s heart fell. That really couldn't be the truth? Roland wasn't all that bad, he was just a little.. blunt. Not that she had friends, present company aside. It was difficult for Rin to get close with anyone in case their true personalities showed through. She had a knack for telling people their feelings before they were even ready.

“What if I don't like what I see?”

“It's nothing that salacious. Just a wee bit I suppose,” there was a shrug in his shoulder. “If ye don't like it, ye never have t’see me again.”

“Why do you keep saying that like another semester won't roll around?”

“I'm moving to Perth,” he said matter of fact.

“AUSTRALIA?!” Rin was gobsmacked.

“Jupiter!” Roland gave a mock surprised face that teased the girl on his lap.

Rin shoved Roland somewhere between serious and playful. “Oh don't be a bastard!”

“I can't be one! My parents were married!” his brows furrowed in fake consternation. “As far as I know at least?” He stroked his chin in deep thought.

“Can you ever talk without sarcasm or snark?!”

“I'm like Tinkerbell, but I must be acerbic to live!”

Rin’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head. The banter was so natural between them. In that weird way you never notice how much you want or need someone until they won't be there tomorrow. She became instantly pained. Rin had never felt as at-ease with anyone, sharing her secrets and her songs as openly as she did with Roland.

Now her voice was soft and sad, “What's in Oz you can't find here?”

“They offered me a place at their sister conservancy. I've got family over there too. What's left of them.”

Roland nudged his nose against Rin’s. He nuzzled downwards and along her cheek. Taking a chance in kissing her once more where his nose had been. He let his lips linger on her skin, so she knew he would be an open book if she wanted. Even if it was just a day or so before he left her.

Rin draped her arms around Roland’s shoulders before kissing him again. There was a heat, that taste of smoke. Of trailers and RVs all parked together around campfires and music. Then a spice of peppers as his tongue overpowered hers. His kisses taste like Travellers, once called Gypsy.

Roland’s mouth was hungry for her as he awkwardly reached for the hem of her shirt. Desperate to feel Rin, she could tell. All of her. There was nothing sinister about his intentions. Just fiddles and drums and whiskey.

In a blur of laughter and limbs, Rin and Roland clambered to their feet to strip down to their underwear. She flattened her scarred hands on his chest. For someone who could see into someone's mind or emotions, how did Rin miss his olive skin? Those subtle differences that would've given him such grief if others knew.

Rin said it out loud in the sudden quiet. only Roland’s wild heartbeat under her fingers and heavy breath that builds. “You're a gypsy.”

Her eyes focused on his body. An ache between her thighs as she glanced down at the erection inside of his boxers. He wasn't embarrassed. In fact, he was quite confident for Roland at this moment.

Roland’s hands were in Rin’s hair. Entangled so that they tugged her head upwards with a pleasurable pain. She was forced to meet his eyes as he leaned down to mesh his mouth with hers again. His tongue darted in swiftly before she reciprocated. He let his hands stray down over her body to the hook of her bra where he fumbled but only briefly before it came free.

“Not anymore,” Roland’s voice thick.

“I'm sorry. Traveller?” Rin was apologetic.

Her hips involuntarily pushed into his as she lightly brushed her fingers down his body. They traced around his waist to the small of his back. That dip just above the band of his boxers.

“No, I mean I'm not a Traveller or a gypsy anymore. Best assimilate with the other gorja. Being “normal” has made everything easier.”

There was a sadness now in Roland's flesh. It flowed just underneath the surface as Rin embraced him. Her experience with tents and churches and people “speaking in tongues” as her parents forced her to perform “miracles” on blind faith punters bubbled over her surface and spread to Roland’s.

“Wren. It wasn't like that. I'm sad because I miss them. I'm ashamed of turning my back on the people who raised me. That's where I fell in love with music. C’mon you’re ruining our last night!”

Roland let go and laid on the bed with his back to the wall. He propped himself up on his elbow and tapped the bed a few times. “Let me take care of you?” An eyebrow arched suggestively.

“You know what you're doing?”

Still, Rin laid down beside Roland on her back. He bent forward with a hand on her neck and pecked her lips softly. Once. Twice, before she opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue. They mingled and danced with each other as Rin slipped her hand inside the fly of Roland’s boxers so she could trace her fingers along his erection.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Roland’s stomach contracted at her touch. Rin knew it was more of a delighted surprise as her hand now curled around the shaft and began to stroke back and forth. Her fingertips worked up a friction as he finally exhaled heavily into her. Then, with just a moment’s hesitation, palmed her between the legs.

Rin’s turn to gasp in pleasure as he rubbed swift circles on her underwear. Teased her until a wetness formed that he pushed the fabric aside to get to. His fingers easily slid in and out of her until they almost started to play. Hooked and curved like she was guitar strings. Rin clenched her eyes shut in ecstasy as she broke the kiss to bury her hand at a pillow. With their guard down, Roland began to play.

Rin got lost in the way his fingers moved inside of her. They searched and learned as they went. She felt Roland’s eyes on her as he darted in over her G-Spot, but Rin thought that to be accidental. Still he forged on; only stopping when her body started to jerk just slightly. He kept at it once he realized that was her clit.

Roland craned again to cover Rin’s mouth with a kiss. His hand never ended manipulating her as he opened a door to her gifts. She was at her most vulnerable, and welcomed him in.

Roland stood just outside the caravan his family spent their summers. He and his Dá had their rows over the enrollment at the conservancy. How had he saved that much money, and why had he disobeyed the rules of the family? Every penny earned went to them, the community. Not some gorja school in Cork.

Roland knew if he left he would be excommunicated from them. He couldn't return, they would make sure he wouldn't be able to find them. Still, with his kit and guitar he looked ahead and never back. He wouldn't always blend in; when he hit it big, Roland would pay them their respect.

By first year's end, gifted students like him were set up with mentors. Someone who had been around the program for a few years. She was pretty with soul piercing blue eyes and jet black hair. Roland was smitten.

Unused to outsiders who moved kind of slow compared to Traveller girls who weren't afforded time. They married by 17 or 18; his own mother was only 33 years old while Roland was 18. Yet in his culture, sex before marriage was unheard of. They dated in large chaperoned groups, and being alone with a woman was forbidden until marriage. His mentor took advantage of that. Of him.

It started the way some flings do, innocent flirting. Then one day as they sat side by side on the piano bench, she stopped playing and made a pattern of nothing on Roland’s thigh. She lightly scratched the denim material before passing over his crotch. Roland played faster to match his breathing as she started to tighten her grip on his noticeable erection. She unzipped his jeans, delved inside his boxers to take his naked cock in her hand. His improvised playing matched the way she began to jerk him off. Frenzied. Clandestine. Wanton. His music and the way he felt were both.. Perfect.

That's the way she did it. Told him it was more fun to keep it hidden. Just between them when it was their time in the practice suites. How powerful it made Roland feel to have a secret like that. How she went down on him some days. Or when they finally fucked (Roland was convinced it was more) on the piano bench. She rode him while he admitted he loved her. He always said he loved her. She would ignore him.

His scores faltered a bit, but his teachers agreed it was probably the adjustment to conservancy life. He was still better than nearly everyone, which made his head grow. Until one afternoon when they were in the room. A surprise.

Roland laid on top of Rin, her legs bent around him. He dug through the pockets of his jeans almost frantically. He was pressed hard into her thigh, but Rin urged him inside of her.

“What are you doing?”

“I forgot a condom.”

“Doesn't matter”

“Do ye really want t’have a baby with someone like me?”

“I can't have them,” Rin was matter of fact.

“Oh.. I'm sorry?” Roland pushed up on one arm to get a better look at her.

“I don't know if you should be. I'm not exactly chuffed with myself half days, imagine me as a mum. With my,” she held her hands aloft. Roland kissed them.

“Then you're meant for so much more.” It was a whisper as he sunk inside of his friend.

Rin’s breath caught in her throat for the hundredth time that evening. She held Roland as he moved in her the same way his fingers had. Her hands splayed along his shoulders as they found a cadence; silent except for their breathing. Roland’s heavy. Rin's airy as she realized a little more about him.

She was married. With a little girl about 7 or 8. Roland knew her husband as the head of the classical music department. Roland’s department. He listened as they talked about him like an art exhibit instead of a human. technique not passion.

But the husband found out, and Roland was placed in the folk music program. It just made him heart sick for Ireland and caravans and Sunday night cèilidh. How he couldn't go back, but she had stopped him from moving forward. Folk music, HIS music, required love and emotion and Roland had been told he was only good for the technical.

Then he did something he hadn't done since he was 3 or 4, Roland just stopped. He'd play something that was mechanical and cold and hard like he would become. Even if Rin had changed his view these past few months.

Rin loved Roland in that moment as he rocked harder and faster. And he loved her. It wasn't the romantic kind; that was ok too. Sometimes you just need a partner to play music with.

Tag list: @robertsheehanownsmyass @nightmonsters @super-unpredictable98 @sean-falco @magic-multicolored-miracle @forenschik @crisis-of-joy @slutforrobbiebro @firstpersonnarrator

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #roland #three summers #roland x rin #rin davies

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

Working Together

This is a fic for @cinnamon-hoe featuring her OC Carina and Mitsuhide, requested during my 300 follower celebration in January! It was meant to be out two weeks ago but took longer than I expected to finish. I hope she enjoys it - and I hope you do too. Approx 4000 words of fluffiness!

Mitsuhide kept his expression still as Carina eyed the monks along the road. In her disguise as a merchant, that look made her seem shrewd - perfectly in character, but he knew what she was thinking.

She confirmed he was right when she leaned over to whisper, “Do you think any of these are working with Ashikaga?”

The disgraced shogun hadn’t shown his face since he’d been beaten, but his continued existence grated. It required Mitsuhide to maintain spies on all properties linked with the shogun’s family and allies, no small thing. For the last month, he and Carina traveled from one clan land to another, contacting his spies and handlers in person. Normally he left this work to Kyubei, but this time he’d wanted to make the trip.

Because of Carina. Spending time with her in Azuchi meant sharing her attention at least six different ways when he wanted her all to himself. He loved to have her eyes on him - and only him - and the long weeks of travel gave him exactly that.

He reached out and drew a finger along the edge of her jaw. A light touch. Teasing.

Carina’s eyes widened and her full attention turned to him. “We’re in public . . .” Her words were at odds with the light in her eyes.

Mitsuhide smiled. “Does this count as public? No one is watching us. The monks have their attention on the path ahead. And the other merchants are busy with their own concerns . . .” He let his fingers drift down to her neck, to her collarbone.

She pulled back and smacked his hand, adjusting her clothes. “Yes it counts!”

Ah that temper. It only made him smile wider. And her fiery look made him want to kiss her. Before she could react, he placed a light kiss on her lips. Just fast enough to avoid another smack.

“Merda.” She frowned. “If you’re going to do it, may as well do it right.” Then she stood up on tiptoe and gave him a passionate kiss.

It surprised him, but his body reacted while his mind processed, stopping to wrap his arms around her, his lips welcoming her touch. She tasted of spice and honey, and she was so warm. His hands stroked down her back, wishing they were alone so he could feel her without all these clothes in the way. Mitsuhide could never get his fill of her, not if he had 500 years.

When they finally broke the kiss, some of the merchants and monks nearby applauded, smiling and laughing in a good-natured way.

Carina blushed.

Mitsuhide felt a little smug. But to Carina he bowed his head. “I defer to your wisdom, little one. It seems this does count as public.”

“Tch.” She pretended to check the cart, making sure the ties were secure.

Soon, the road rounded the trees and in the distance, Mitsuhide could see their destination. Rokuon-ji. It shone in the afternoon light, surrounded by a surfeit of trees, the branches heavy with buds.

“Is that it,” Carina asked, shading her eyes.

“Yes.”

Despite the beauty of the place, his little mouse wore a heavy frown. “If shark-eyes has allies here, what will we do about them?”

“You need do nothing but relax, and continue to play the part of a merchant’s wife.”

“Like hell. You promised to be honest with me. And tell me what you’re planning.”

Mitsuhide sighed. He was being honest with her - or at least, mostly so. “I am. I have.” He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “There is no sign these monks are working with Yoshiaki, but I will meet with a contact here. That’s all.”

Carina pouted, looking like she didn’t quite believe him.

“I need you to maintain the facade of a trader’s wife.” He squeezed her hand. It wasn’t the whole truth, but a man needed to have some surprises for his lover.

“Fine. I can do that. But I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Mmm, maybe there is. I haven’t told you today that you’re lovely, after all. Or that I’d like to kiss every inch of you. Starting with your fingertips. I don’t think I’ve mentioned-”

“Mitsu!” She was blushing furiously now, exactly the reaction he’d hoped for.

“You did ask . . .”

There wasn’t much room to say more as they guided the cart off the main road and onto the path toward Rokuon-ji. A few of the monks turned with them but most of the travelers continued on.

A feeling of peace settled over them as they walked. This place felt apart from the dusty road and the towns and cities they’d passed through. Here, small deer walked between the trees, unafraid. Birds sat close by in the branches, watching their passage with beady black eyes. The wind smelled of green, growing things.

Carina’s frown slowly turned into a relaxed smile, and even Mitsuhide found the tension in his body coming undone.

The three-storied monastery sat beside a lake, where little tree-dotted islands floated. Robed men walked the grounds, digging and pruning, planting and hauling. All hard at work under the gaze of a stern-eyed abbot. He greeted the newcomers personally, first by pressing his hands together and saying “Welcome,” then coming to each individually. He spoke with each of the traveling monks, and finally came to the two ‘merchants.’

When he took Mitsuhide’s hands, the old abbot smiled. “A merchant eh?”

“What else?”

Carina seemed surprised by his warm greeting, as the abbot took both her hands in his. “And you . . . “ His eyebrows lifted as he cradled her two hands in his large, calloused ones.

“And me?” She pulled away, nervous.

“You are also welcome here, traveler.” He motioned toward the monastery. The abbot’s gaze returned to Mitsuhide. “Have you brought tools and cloth, items to trade?”

“We have. As I mentioned in my letter.” Mitsuhide gestured to the wagon. “All discussed items are here.”

“Excellent.” The abbot rubbed his hands together as he called a few of the monks over to unload the cart.

Carina sidled up to Mitsuhide, whispering. “So what’s the plan? Butter them up to get them to admit they’re working with Ashikaga?”

Mitsuhide settled an arm around her shoulder. “Something like that.” He turned her toward a grove of budding trees. “What I need you to do is go there and find a smooth patch of ground, preferably under a tree. Large enough for two to sit comfortably . . .”

“A spot to watch the monastery from? Alright.” She watched the monks unload, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know why we need to watch them from the trees. They don’t really seem to care if we see what they’re doing.”

“You will have to trust me, little mouse.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before going inside.

Inside, he arranged a place to sleep with his wife, and their supper. He also spoke with his informant. The news left him smiling.

Outside, Carina walked between the trees, admiring the beauty of this place. It was hard to imagine it had anything to do with shark-eyes. It was too peaceful. Too nice. And there was something familiar about it too. As if she’d been here before - which was possible. In her own time, this place might still exist as something else.

She spent about half her time looking for the kind of spot she thought would work for proper spying. A line of sight to the road and the monastery, but well-cloaked by low-hanging branches. The rest of her time, she looked for evidence. Some sign this place wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed. But the monks she passed all smiled and greeted her. No one whispered in corners or watched her.

“Little one?”

Mitsuhide’s voice surprised Carina. She did a little hop in place and turned to see him smiling at her.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I wasn’t scared.” Carina took a breath, settling her nerves. All of the not-acting-suspicious-monks were making her nervous. “How long do we need to be here,” she asked.

Mitsuhide shrugged. “As I understand it, we should see what we came for tomorrow. My informant assures me by early afternoon, if not morning, all will be . . . “ He trailed off.

“What? All will be what?”

He took her shoulder and turned her to face what he was looking at. The lake. It reflected the reds and pinks of the sky, as if the lake itself were ablaze in the sunset. It was beautiful. Made more so as Mitsuhide settled his arms around her, pulling Carina against his chest.

She couldn’t help but relax against him. His hand went to her hair, undoing the bun she kept it in for traveling. His fingers were cool and gentle as he combed the tangles out of her wavy brown locks. He placed little kisses along the sides of her neck.

“But . . . the monks . . .”

“Mmm, they’ve gone inside for evening meditation,” he murmured. His breath purred across her skin, sending little warm shivers through her.

“Shouldn’t . . . we . . . be-” Carina tried to point out they had work to do, but it was impossible to think when he teased her like this.

“We are doing exactly as we should,” he replied. He eased her top down her shoulders to expose more skin to his lips. Mitsuhide knew right now she was caught between enjoying his touch and her worry over being spotted. He wondered which would win if he kept going. How far would she let him take this? If he was honest with himself, he wanted to enjoy all of her out here. To see her beauty unveiled in the light of the setting sun. Light cinnamon skin against the red glow of the lake and sky.

He turned her to face him, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. She couldn’t object when her tongue was too busy dancing against his to speak. Mitsuhide’s hands pushed her top further down, stroking her upper arms and back. Then his teasing fingers went to her breasts.

Carina gasped, a little moan escaping between kisses. His touch lit a fire in her that threatened to devour all sense. She could imagine laying him down in the soft grass. Pulling clothing out of the way. Straddling Mitsu and riding him until they both collapsed from the pleasure of it. And damn him but he sensed her desire and seemed all too willing to make her imagination reality.

“M-mitsu - we - we have to -” she managed the words between kisses. “We have . . . a room . . . right?”

“Mhmmm,” he purred, lifting her up to press her against a nearby tree. His hand slid up her thigh, sending little arcs of electric need through her.

Carina’s eyes shut as she held back a cry of pleasure. She was ready to give in. Afterall, no one was watching. And it felt so good . . . his touch, the cool air, everything . . .

But Mitsuhide set her down and tugged her top back up. “You are right, little mouse. We do have a room. And I am sure there is supper waiting for us.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression.

“Te odeio,” she sighed, not meaning it at all. Her body throbbed with the unsatisfied yearning. She poked a finger at him. “You will finish this later. You can’t just . . . tease me like that.”

Mitsuhide took her hand and held it to his lips, pressing nipping kisses to each finger tip. “This is only a beginning, little one. I can’t finish when I am only just starting.”

The heat in his eyes would have melted the arctic, she thought. And how did he make just kissing her fingers feel so good?!?

He kept ahold of her hand as they walked back to the monastery. By the time they got to their room, the stars were out and full dark had fallen. There was a little table in their room with hot tea and simple fare. Rice and vegetables.

Carina’s first sip of tea was a pleasant surprise. “Red tea?”

“Your favorite.” Mitsuhide gave a smug smile as he lifted his own cup to drink.

“You brought it.” Carina gave him a happy smile. It never ceased to amaze her that despite all of the things Mitsuhide had to worry about, he still remembered all her likes and dislikes.

He smiled at her gently. All of his hungry passion was still there, in his golden gaze, but there was a wealth of love too. As if he was looking at his greatest treasure when he looked into Carina’s hazel eyes. “I won’t deny it.”

“Hm. That confession came too easy. That means you’re hiding something else.” She settled down to eat. “I will find out what it is, you know. One way or another.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “I look forward to experiencing your interrogation techniques after dinner. It will be interesting to see what you’ve learned in our time together.” His expression left no doubt as to the intent of his words.

Carina blushed. She loved his teasing and word games but sometimes . . . “You almost got a taste of them in the garden.”

“I know.”

She caught a hint of color in his cheeks too. The sight brought more than a little satisfaction.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment building between them. Mitsuhide felt a little frisson of frustration, but good things were better for the waiting. Or at least, so he told himself as he left the room to speak with their visitor.

The abbot led him up the stairs to the top of the temple. From there, they looked out at the dark lake. It glittered with the light of the overhead stars, and the warm glow of temple lanterns.

“I know why you are here, kitsune. You need not approach under such a thin disguise.”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “I am here for the exact reason I gave. And this disguise was not for you. My wife and I have stopped in many towns as we’ve traveled.”

The abbot nodded after a moment. “I believe you. I have seen the way your eyes touch her. She is your spirit of compassion.”

The kitsune warlord didn’t believe in such things, but he supposed if there was such a spirit, it would be Carina. He said nothing.

After a long silence, the abbot spoke again. “Is there a worry among the Oda that my monks pose a threat? We do not wield the influence we once had . . .”

Ah, there it is, thought Mitsuhide. The real reason behind this evening visit. “I do not know the mind of Lord Nobunaga.”

“Yet you know your own motions. And your concerns are also his.” The abbot turned his stern eyes to Mitsuhide. In them was a lifetime of wisdom and work, sorrows and forgiveness.

“I do.” Mitsuhide met the gaze without flinching. He had his own strength, afterall. A core of steel, flexible, like his blade, but unbreakable. “If I felt you were a threat, would I announce it, abbot? You know my reputation.”

The abbot nodded, and after another breath, he looked away. “If we were a threat, I think this temple would be ash already. Yet I must ask.”

“And you have.” Mitsuhide turned to go back down the stairs. “My wife is waiting.”

“Goodnight, kitsune. I hope that tomorrow brings you the joy you seek.” The abbot stayed at the railing.

Mitsuhide half-hoped to resume where they’d left off, but Carina was curled up on the futon, asleep. He didn’t blame her. Travel was tiring, and his little one always pushed herself too hard. He got ready for bed and slipped in behind her. She turned, pressing her face to his chest with a little sigh of satisfaction.

There was nothing better than this in all the world, Mitsuhide thought. Than to hold and be held by your lover.

Their peace was all too short. Before dawn broke, a shouting woke the sleeping couple. A shout, and the smell of smoke. Outside, men on horses rode past, tossing lit branches at the monastery and into the gardens. The monks rallied to defend themselves.

Mitsuhide and Carina took a quick survey of the scene.

“I will help the monks hold the attackers back. I need you to organize an effort to put out the fire before it causes more damage.” Mitsuhide grabbed his sword and leapt out past the windowsill.

“Be careful,” Carina shouted after him. Then she set to work. She didn’t know this place or these monks, and even though she was still suspicious, she didn’t want to see this place burn. It was too beautiful.

Mitsuhide smiled at her sweet concern. She should know by now that he was never careful, not with himself. But he always acted with intent. This was no different. He leapt from the building onto one of the passing horsemen, shoving the attacker to the ground. And from horseback, he chased and cut at the bandits.

Up close, they looked liked soldiers. Or men that had once been warriors, now turned to banditry. He felt little pity for such men. Those willing to abandon any principle in the hope of an easier path to wealth and comfort.

Carina ran out of her room, grabbing the first monk she ran across. “You! Grab a bucket - a jug - anything, and come with me!”

The monk looked at her in shock, then nodded. “Yes - a jug!” He scrambled away, grabbing an empty wine jug.

Carina didn’t wait for him. She kept going, grabbing every monk she could get to and giving them the same order. By the time she ran out of the shrine, they had enough people to form a proper water line. It would have to do.

Mitsuhide saw her exit the mansion with a gaggle of monks carrying random containers. Perfect. One of the bandits must have thought so as well. He wheeled his mount toward Carina and the monks, his sword held at the ready.

With a shout that sounded more animalistic than human, Mitsuhide turned his horse too. He rode for the bandit, intent on intercepting him. It was close. This mount was nowhere near as fast as those in Nobunaga’s stables, nor as well trained. But it closed the distance with the bandit, and the man was forced to pull up short.

The bandit swung his sword at Mitsuhide, but he was too slow.

Mitsuhide deftly ducked under the cut and used the flat of his blade to slap the man’s sword hand.

The bandit dropped his sword with a yelp.

“Call off these other men, and we will let you leave in peace,” Mitsuhide shouted.

The bandit gave a cruel smile. Instead of answering, he pulled a shorter blade from his belt and lunged toward the kitsune warlord.

Mitsuhide wasn’t able to move out of the way, but he got his sword up in time to block. He pushed the bandit away with a leg, shoving him right off his horse. The bandit landed on his feet and kept coming. There was no bloodless way out of this, Mitsuhide thought.

He swung his sword again, this time severing the man’s hand from his arm. The bandit went down with a cry.

The other bandits sensed the tide turn against them, and the ones that could, rode away. The handless man tried to run too, but he didn’t get far before passing out. One of the monks grabbed him and dragged him back to tie up with the others.

Carina was so busy putting out the literal fires that she hadn’t noticed Mitsuhide’s heroism. She was smeared with mud and ash, and her body felt more tired than it had when she first went to sleep. Despite her shaking hands, she kept her place in the water line, grabbing the water filled containers as they were passed along, and sending them up the line.

Mitsuhide joined, though he doubted the good one more set of hands could do. He took a spot beside Carina.

Her fatigue was clear, but she was so stubborn. When he looked over at her, she gave him a firm, bright smile. “You cleared off the bandits?”

“Most of them. But you haven’t put out the fire yet.”

Carina laughed. “I was waiting for you to join me. I didn’t want to take all the credit.”

“Well, I’m here now so let’s finish it, hm?”

His smile seemed to grant her another burst of energy. They worked together, passing bucket after bucket of water forward, and the empty ones back. Even with the work of all the monks, it was still another hour before the last of the fires was out.

The golden walls of the building smoked from the scorching, and some of the nearby trees were blackened. But it could have been much worse. Smoke in the wind told Mitsuhide that for some, it was.

The abbot brought wine around in cups, and food, to those collapsed in place. And to the prisoners, who would be carted before a magistrate for judgement. “I thank you for your help,” he told Mitsuhide and Carina. “You acted quickly and without concern for yourselves.” He gave a short bow. “I am sorry for my suspicion before.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “I would have been suspicious of me too. Now, if you don’t mind. I think I’d like to rest.”

The abbot nodded and went on to others still waiting.

Mitsuhide half carried Carina a little way off from the smoking structure to sit beneath one of the trees and rest. She leaned back against his chest, drowsing in the pale, early morning sun.

“Did you know those men were coming?” She tilted her head to look at him.

“No. I didn’t come here for that.” Mitsuhide wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands on her belly.

“Do you think it’s because of-”

“No.” He interrupted her. “Ashikaga has no interest in this place. His family has not held court here for a long time. I doubt the shogun even knows this place exists.”

Carina regarded him silently. Thinking.

Mitsuhide knew she was trying to worry the trip at all angles. What purpose did this monastery serve? In her history lessons, what import did it have? Was the location strategic? He was quite proud of his little mouse. She learned so quickly, and was so eager to put what she knew to use. He had only to give her a book on a subject, and she’d apply herself to it . . . but in this case, all of those answers were wrong.

“I wanted to share the cherry blossoms with you,” he said softly. His voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear him.

“You . . . what?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I wanted to show you something beautiful. Just you and I. So I wrote the abbot.”

She smiled widely.

“My contact here told me the buds would blossom today. But I suppose he was wrong.”

Carina laid the back of her head against his chest again, looking up at the tree branches. Sunlight filtered down through them. The wind whispered through the tree tops. It blew away the smoke and fear of the night before and brought back the serenity of this place.

“I don’t think he was wrong. Look.” Carina pointed up, where the high branches were bathed in sunlight. And there, the buds began to unfurl. A slow dance of petals opening to the sun. Pink and white blooms that spread wide. As the warmth of day made its way to the lower branches, more buds opened, until the tree above them and the branches around them were cloaked in a robe of flowers.

Mitsuhide could not help but smile at her look of awe. He felt it too. Lucky to be alive and in this moment with her.

“Meu Deus . . . It is so beautiful,” she sighed.

“It is,” Mitsuhide agreed. “But there are other flowers more exquisite still.” He stroked a hand through her hair.

“Oh?” Carina blushed and caught his hand with her own.

“Of course. I am lucky enough to be in the presence of one every day.”

She laughed. “I am no flower, Mitsu . . . I am a mess.”

He chuckled, pulling her closer. “Perhaps that is part of your charm.”

Carina didn’t answer, only held tighter to him.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen mitsuhide #Mitsuhide Akechi #otome boys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #oc

27 notes · View notes

rinusagitora · 3 years

Text

You’re in all my dreams.

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Karin Kurosaki, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, OC- Mae Izumi

Pairings: HitsuKarin

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. For HitsuKarin Week 2021. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families; Karin graduates Shin'ou and shares her dreams with Toushirou.

AO3

For the last six years, Karin dreamed of the day she’d graduating from cadet to officer and don the shihakusho like everyone she ever admired.

It was an anxious future filled with wonder and promise she never knew back in the World of the Living. Going from cadet to captain of a small force was going to be quite the culture shock, perhaps even more than the cold water of the river where she drowned. But she made it, and it made her much more confident in her ability. Officers were chosen from a pool of graduates and turnover was infrequent since few officers passed away in peacetime. It made competition fierce and even rarer that a graduate obtained a seated position out of the gate.

She was equal parts nervous and excited. For the time being, all Karin wanted to do was enjoy the graduation bonfire.

Mae toppled onto the log, sloshing rice wine onto Karin’s lap. She laughed. “I’m sorry! I’m sooo hammered.”

“No worries. I think I’ve puked on you more times than you’ve spilled on me.”

“Indeed, we swapped roles tonight.” Mae tapped Karin’s nose. “Tonight, of all nights, you choose to be reserved. Why?”

Karin hummed and swirled beer. “I’m nervous, I think.”

“It’s a big change.” Mae looked over the crowd. “Where are Hinamori-fukutaichou and Hitsugaya-taichou? I expected them, of all people, to be here.”

Karin’s reikaku grazed the crowd. Momo was there, just chaperoning. Keeping firelight between bodies like a puritan. Perhaps rightfully so. They were the new faces of the Seireitei. It was better not to romp in the woods right over poison ivy before recruitment day. Pussy itch was a different kind of awful. The kind of awful where Karin, who was once impaled, ended up curling up on the floor crying while Izuru healed her crotch and Shuuhei and Renji laughed in the next room.

The crowd parted for Momo like river water around stones. She stopped before Karin, and Karin smiled at her mentor. “Hi, Momo-senpai.”

Mae nodded. "Hinamori-sama."

"Izumi-chan, I hope you're enjoying the festivities."

"Oddly enough. It's strange letting loose… but I see where Karin-chan's alcoholism comes from. Dancing while intoxicated is liberating."

"Indeed." Nonetheless, Momo cocked her head and curiously looked over Karin. Karin knew the jig was up from there. She and Ryuuji were normally in the center of the action, and Karin hadn't so much as howled or toasted once that evening.

“Leave us, Izumi-chan.”

Mae managed to right herself and bowed to excuse herself. Gracefully, Momo took a seat beside Karin as she cursed internally. She didn't want to talk about it, but Momo always dragged out her bad feelings and laid them in the open.

“It’s odd you’re not out enjoying the festivities. This is your… thing.”

“It’s just really hitting me that I’m going to be a shinigami,” Karin told Momo. “I’ve been working toward this goal for six years. What do I do from here?”

Momo laughed. “Six years is a blink of an eye for the majority of us.” She held Karin’s shoulders. “There will be plenty to do, Karin-chan.”

“I can’t believe we’re all in a squad just after graduation, though.”

“Who? Izumi and Kawashima?” Karin hummed affirmatively in response to Momo, who then grinned. “Believe it or not, Iba-taichou wanted Watanabe. I think Watanabe is in for a reality check.”

“You are far too happy over that.” Karin couldn’t help but share Momo’s thrill, however. Chousuke Watanabe was a thorn in her side for six years, being her friend Ryuuji’s tormentor. Tetsuzaemon would straighten him out. The very picture of manhood and chivalry according to Momo. It was far too rewarding imagining Chousuke getting reamed by a six-foot wall of meat and battle scars.

"Bias is something I never shied away from. It's been a driving force in my life, for better or worse." Momo kissed Karin's forehead. "For best, in your case. You've been family since the moment I laid eyes on you, Karin-chan. My own in many ways. Every obstacle you've faced, you've overcome, and are better for it. I am so proud of how far you've come, and I'm so glad to have played a part in it."

Karin smiled bashfully. At least she had Momo.

Momo lovingly jostled Karin. There it was. Momo buttered up Karin just enough and was about to get her to bust open a can of worms. "What's on your mind?"

"I just… I thought Toushirou would be here. I haven't seen him all day today."

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but," Momo whispered, grinning, "he's preparing something special. Be patient."

Her heart pattered. "Oh." Of course he was. She was a little ashamed that hadn't occurred to her earlier as if they hadn't developed years of trust and affection, or at least a solid friendship. Nonetheless, Momo stroked Karin's hair, reminding her she was only human, that something so little wouldn't ruin everything.

Speaking of… Karin picked up on a familiar, icy reiatsu approaching. It was Toushirou, still in uniform. She smiled and Momo tapped her on her nose.

"See?"

"Not yet, but he's coming." Momo only rolled her eyes in response to Karin's lame joke.

"I'll leave you now. Enjoy your night, Karin-chan."

"Thanks, Senpai. I love you."

"And I love you."

Toushirou was still in uniform with his hands tucked into his sleeves. As he passed, Karin's fellow cadets parted and bowed to him. He ignored the attention, however, instead sporting a smile as he found Karin on her log.

He'd undergone hormone therapy in recent years to trigger a growth spurt. And he'd grown up to be a handsome young man, with looks rivaling stars in the World of the Living with access to renowned surgeons.

"I hope you've been enjoying yourself," he said. He took a seat next to her. He smelled like flowers. "I never attended these things, truthfully."

"Did you want to try dancing?" Karin asked.

"Well… I don't know," he said. Toushirou pulled a modest bouquet of daffodils from his sleeve, tied off with a turquoise ribbon. "It's not a big gift, I know, but I hope it reminds you that you're always welcome in juubantai."

Gingerly, Karin took his bouquet and smelled them. They smelled like spring. "I love them," she said. "Thank you."

She pressed a kiss against Toushirou's cheek, and he happily hummed. "I'm glad you like them. It's hard buying gifts for you."

"As if."

"It's true," he replied. "All Matsumoto wants is a day off, Hinamori loves spices and tobacco, and the boys are happy with some sake. You, on the other hand, easily get your hands on sake and tobacco, and hate downtime." Toushirou crossed his legs. "I should've consulted my sister."

Karin frowned. "But I like them…"

"The flowers? But they're such a lazy gift," he scoffed.

"I like everything you give me." She smiled. "Really, thank you. I love them."

He laughed bashfully. "Well, I'm glad."

Together they sat amid drums and singing and firelight, swaying with it, until Toushirou asked, "I don't want to take you from your friends, but I’m not enjoying myself here. Do you mind going elsewhere?"

"We can leave," Karin said. "Where do you want to go?"

"Someplace quiet where we can see the stars."

Her cheeks were warm at the idea. How romantic.

Karin bashfully followed behind Toushirou, holding his hand as he guided her away from the bonfire. When it was dark, he illuminated the way with kidou, assured in every step. A gorgeous man. He'd grown into his looks. His cheekbones were high, his shoulders broad. She could swoon until early morning over his handsome shape.

Up a hill, through a grove, and up a steep path, until they reached the peak of a sheer cliff. The stars above looked like a river of life. They didn't twinkle but were a steady pathway carved in the sky. Karin fell onto the grass and marveled. "Wow. When did you find this, Toushirou?"

"Not long ago. I wouldn't keep this from you without a good reason." He smiled at her. Sitting, he said, "Do you like it?"

"Yes!" Karin nigh tackled Toushirou and kissed his cheek. "It's beautiful."

"I should've brought wine."

"This is perfect." Karin laid her head on Toushirou's shoulder. Together they stared into the stars. She searched for constellations but found none she recognized. "Do you think the World of the Living and the Soul Society have different stars?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. No one spends time looking up in the Soul Society. Those who do, don't seem to have the technology contributing to significant findings," Toushirou replied. "I'm not much of an astronomer either."

"You're a man of the law."

He laughed bashfully. "Aye."

Karin drew pictures in the stars herself. Birds, men, kitchenware, like she remembered from her human life not so long ago. Six years was nothing compared to how long her peers lived, was it? Not Momo, who was approaching a century and a half. Not even Toushirou, well into his seventies by that point. But Karin couldn’t remember the names of the stars or where to find them in the sky. How much longer did she have until she overwrote their patterns with other things? How much longer until her sad mortal history was forgotten in a sea of everything else?

There weren’t immediate answers to her questions, but Karin was fine with that. She said, "I remember hoping a rope would drop from the sky and drag me by the neck. Put me out of my misery."

"Understandable," Toushirou replied.

"I'm so much happier here. It's not always easy, but..."

"Slow and steady?"

"Yeah. Slow and steady wins the race. And I'm glad to be with you for it."

"So," Toushirou said, "no more sky-ropes to hang you until you're dead?"

She giggled. "Not anymore. I don't fancy myself a pirate, anyway."

He hummed. "I had a dream some time ago. Similar to yours... although I remember it being less grizzly," Toushirou confessed. She pulled her gaze from the starlight and saw him cloaked in darkness. Still, his eyes shined with wonder. Adoration. "A dream that assured me you're the love of my life."

"Go on," she said.

"I was being puppeteered by the sky. Dragged around day in and day out. And I saw the strings on you, into the sky as far as my eyes could see. And yet despite time, and fate, and all the horridness that plagued life for some time, we fought to be together." He clasped her hand. "Our strings became tangled and pink like cherry blossoms in spring. Like sunset. And... and I never want those strings freed." His blue-green eyes met hers. They made her melt like her body was hot wax in a leather bag. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Karin."

It felt like forever before she caught her breath. She asked, "Are you proposing?"

"If that's all it takes to spend the rest of my life by your side, and you at my side, I'll fetch a ring now. Propose properly in front of as many people as you like.”

Karin giggled. Picturing Toushirou hopping onto a bar counter, sake raised high, and screaming how deeply he was in love with Karin to their loved ones and peers, was quite a sight to behold! Yet, as anxious as he was to do so, she replied with, "Not at all. But let's make plans down the road. When I'm settled in."

"Of course." Toushirou sighed happily. They kissed. "I'm so in love with you, Karin."

"And I love you."

"I could stay here forever."

Karin hummed. “We have forever to do that…”

He turned to meet her gaze. “But?”

“I want to do more.” She sat up. “We work because we’re more than just lovers. We’re friends, confidants, partners. Warriors and artists and scholars.”

“Of course,” he agreed, propping himself on his palm.

“I want to be married, and I want forever with you, as much as I want-”

Toushirou said, completing Karin’s statement, “More.” He held her hand then. “It’s one of the reasons I love you. My recruitment was necessary. Yours is nothing but-”

“Desire.” She gazed into the stars, searching for divination in the blanket covering a slowly rotating plane.

“Then what more do you want?”

“To give justice and safety to those who have been and yet to be hurt. No one should suffer as I, and we have. I want to tear down the caste system here. Hold nobility responsible for their actions and give power back to the people, and eradicate the symbols of fascism and cruelty. I want to reconnect families. To make the Rukongai safe, so no one’s starving or resorting to crime to survive. And…” Karin turned to Toushirou, her breath stilling as she saw his eyes swimming with adoration. “And I want to mold the next generation to dream as I now dream, and to better the world. And I want to do all of it with you beside me, Toushirou. As equals.”

Toushirou cupped her cheek. He kissed her, and she held his sleeve. “Let’s do it. Together,” he said. Their foreheads touched. “Together always.”

#bleach #shinigami karin au #hitsukarin #hitsukarinweek2021 #karin kurosaki #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #oc: mae izumi

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