#but mostly because i think he wakes up in a cold sweat at night wondering if orochimaru is out there trying to get to it

[im-still-watching-anime]

naruto: i never know what to get sasuke since he’s not very materialistic

sakura: hm, have you tried thinking of anything that’s more unique and means a lot to both of you

naruto: …..oh my god you’re right i have the perfect idea

sakura: wait where are you going??

naruto: i’m going to go dig up our severed arms so i can give them to sasuke duh

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto incorrect quotes #sasunaru #sns #uzumaki naruto #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #you ever say something in a dumb moment and then hours later realize it was like highkey fucked up? yeah #everyone stops naruto from doing it but then enter a heated debate about whether or not sasuke would have been into it #i think he would #but mostly because i think he wakes up in a cold sweat at night wondering if orochimaru is out there trying to get to it #between all those sharingan switches and living with orochimaru i think sasuke is VERY concerned about his body parts being stolen #man went himself to dig up their arms and hold a funeral for them just to put his mind at ease #though tbh this is all assuming they weren’t like disintegrated by the ninja magic but whatever

[lilac--sugar]

But then... whatever in the world could you be?

Summary: Astarion wakes from a nightmare with something he can only explain as hunger. He thinks he knows what he needs and goes to the one person that can give him just that. (Late act 2 I'd say) Pairing: Astarion/Tav!Reader (gn!Tav) Though, I did write it with my Tav, Kieran, in mind (pictured above). If there are any mentions that contradict this please point it out and I will gladly adjust it! 💜 Rating: M (Mostly because my blog is rated M and I'm not ok with minors interacting with it. But this is a fluff piece really.) Content Warnings: Mentions of Cazador. Astarion curses once. Word Count: 2k Author's Note: Not betaed. I did my best to comb it over. If you see any mistakes please feel free to point it out! 💜 I really wanted to write this, though. I really wanted at least one scene for Astarion that showed him getting more comfortable/familiar with intimacy that wasn't sexual while also opening up a little more. So, I wrote this to satisfy that need for myself.

Darkness grasps at his mind. Ice cold claws digging in at the nape of his neck, piercing the warm numbness of his meditative sleep. He gasps, suddenly plunged into a state of paralysis.

The claws pull his head back, make him look up into a face he’d rather not see.

“You think you can escape me?” There’s a flame spitting anger through the words. Eyes like red embers flicker, bear down into his own. He trembles in the grasp.

“Just you wait, boy,” claws dig deeper, pain intensifying as it spreads down his neck and through his whole body. He’s powerless. He tries not to weep, can’t do it for his pride, “I’ll show you pain like you’ve never known.”

His eyes widen as Cazador grins, delight dancing in the embers at Astarion’s fear.

“N-“ his tongue is stuck on the syllable, wants to scream it out, ‘no! I won’t let you! No! You can’t get me here!’

Here? Wait… That’s right. This is just-

He gasps awake, pushing himself up.

“Gods,” he whispers to himself, presses his head into his hands, “it was just a dream,” he takes in a shaky breath, “a nightmare,” he corrects himself.

None the less his body continues to tremble, goose fleshed skin broken out into a cold sweat. The fire kept alive by those on watch does nothing to warm him.

It takes him a moment, a few deep breaths and finally he’s able to pull his hands away from his face. Fear mildly subsides as a new feeling settles in. A strong… craving? It radiates from the pit of his chest. A new kind of hunger he’s not felt before.

Hunger but he can’t even fathom walking away from the safety of camp. The safety of you.

His eyes roam the area before landing on your form.

You look so delicate cuddled down into your pile of pillows. An odd request he’d noticed. You weren’t shy of asking for compensation for your help. Gold and a pillow. Every time. A pillow.

A small huff of a laugh escapes his lips.

He’d remembered the bundle on your back. How it dwarfed you as you tried to carry them all during your travels. Astarion refused to help you then only to have Halsin step in like the big knight in shining armor he is. Astarion had gotten annoyed at the time. Blamed it on Halsin having spoiled his fun of watching you struggle. Truth was he felt a pang of something. He couldn’t place it. Just hated how you’d stared at Halsin all bright eyed, smile wide on your face. He wanted that look for himself. He’d felt the sun for the first time in centuries. But he wanted to know what it felt like to be warmed to the bone. Thought he’d find it there in that look.

Of course, he’d caught a glimpse of it. The night he finally admitted his whole scheme. Worried sick he’d messed everything up. Only you flipped it around with a simple embrace. Sun be damned. That was what true warmth felt like. He’d felt guilty for being rewarded with comfort and understanding for deceiving you. Didn’t understand you one bit for it but eternally grateful you had.

He wondered. You had told him earlier in the day he could feed on you. Day after day you offer and night after night he obliges. He’s grateful for your generosity.

It’s almost like clockwork now. How he crawls over to you. Each time he feels himself get more comfortable in the act. He used to hover over you like you were a bomb that’d set off any second. He used to barely touch you. Now he has no issue. He presses a hand to your shoulder, pushes you flat on your back. He watches with amusement as your body almost instinctively bares your neck for him, highlighted by the dancing fire beside you.

He slides a knee between your legs, getting himself as close as he can. He lowers his head down next to your neck, cool lips taking pleasure against warm skin. He breathes in. For a man that so claims to detest flowers he’d never admit it, but he thinks of you as one. His favorite one. A bouquet of wildflowers. Joyous and bright. Unpredictable. He’d come across you when he had nothing in return. An empty field of dirt. One touch from you and now he’s overgrown.

He can’t explain it, why he does what he does next. He doesn’t bite. Instead, he nuzzles into you. Nose pressing under your ear, tickled by the hair there. He takes in another breath that is you. Eases in a bit more, his arms sliding behind your back. If he had any less pride, he might have flung one of your arms over him.

A tremble passes through his body, a small sob catching in his throat.

You stir under him, a groan escaping from your own. He’s quick to pull away, thinks about dashing off. You never need know he was even there.

“Star,” sleep thick your voice comes out as a croak. He freezes, keeps himself hovering over you.

“What?” He blinks back tears. He’s not sure if the word is meant for him. You’d never called him such before.

“You think your parents named you Astarion because your hair is like starlight?” your speech is sleep slurred.

“Wh- I,” a man that has something to say about everything and you’ve rendered him speechless.

You raise a hand, fingertips brushing over his soft delicate curls that frame his face. Moonbeams are caught in his hair, causes it to glow like a gentle halo around him. Your hand drifts down, settles on his cheek. Fingertips brush just under his eye and you know.

You also know that if you point it out or make a big deal he’ll just fuss and huff off. So, you do the one thing you know he’ll accept. You roll yourself over, use all your strength and flip him onto his back over the nest of pillows you’d painstakingly created. Mischief. He has a soft spot for your displays of it.

“What are you-!?” He doesn’t get the words out before you’re flopping over him, mouth pressing to his neck, you playfully bite down.

“Get off me you fowl fiend!” he cries out.

A chorus of ‘shh’ raises up from the party around them.

“Oh, fuck off!” Astarion snaps back.

A small giggle escapes you as you nuzzle yourself down into him. An arm wrapping over his chest, leg curling around one of his. You know if he had truly been upset, he wouldn't have even let you get this far in the first place. Wouldn't have let you push him. Would have chided you and stormed off by now. Instead, you feel him melt into the pillows, arms slowly wrapping around you.

“You really want me off?” you mumble into his neck, needing to check anyway for good measure. He shakes his head.

“No,” He admits, voice a little watery. You go to pull back, worried you were perhaps wrong. Only, he wraps his arms tighter around your form, pulls you back into him.

“I uh,” He lifts a hand, it coming to cup your face, palm to jaw, fingertips over your lips, he settles your head back where it had perfectly fit just a moment ago, “I had a nightmare with Cazador, again,” He says and you nod.

“I won’t let him get you,” you mumble. A ‘tch’ of a laugh escapes him.

“Optimistic,” He chides.

“One of us has to be.”

“Naive.”

“Hopeful,” you correct.

He hums.

“I promise you,” you whisper, kissing over his fingertips.

Cricket song and the pop and fizz of fire fills the space around you. The need for distraction is clear.

A kiss turns to a bite and he pulls his hand away from your face.

“Will you stop that!?” He hisses and you grin.

“Taste of your own medicine.”

“Oh please,” He places his hand over your neck now, “When I bite it’s with a lot more care and finesse! You hardly ever wake up anymore and I’m at your throat every night.”

You grin, lips curling up at the corners and he thinks you look like a cat who’d just caught a mouse. He lifts his head to get a better look at you, can see the glint in your eyes.

“You hardly ever wake up anymore, right?” He asks. In response you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.

“You smell nice,” You mumble.

Exasperated, he drops back onto the plush pillows.

“You do keep changing the subject,” A faux agonized sigh leaves him, he’d never admit this was an all too welcomed distraction, “You are infuriating, you know?”

“What is it?” You ask, ignoring his complaints. You sniff at his neck, the small puffs of air causing his skin to tingle. He closes his eyes and focuses on not laughing.

“Hmm,” Your nose slips behind his ear, nuzzles into the soft curls there, “rosemary,” hesitant, you sniff again and this time you can feel him twinge with a bit of a laugh, “brandy for sure,” You pull back, hand pressed to his chest as you hover over him.

There’s a softness in his eyes, a smile delicately placed across his lips. His hair is glowing again in the moonlight.

“Go on then,” He says, smile turning to a grin, “what else?”

You shake your head, “Can’t pin the last one.”

“Bergamot.”

“Ahh,” You roll your eyes, “Bergamot,” you carry out the first and last syllable of the word, try to flourish it with his accent, “Fancy.”

“You know me, darling,” He raises a hand and presses it to your cheek, “understated with a dash of extravagant and exceptional.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at his words. It startles him and another chorus of ‘shh’ breaks out.

“Sorry!” You whisper-shout. You duck your head into his neck, muffling the giggling as best as you can.

“I hardly think what I said was funny,” he’s trying to sound serious, but you can hear the hint of a pout to his words.

“Star, you’re about as understated as a beacon,” You pull back, a simmer of giggles still gently rolling from your chest, “Wait- Can I call you Star?”

“Uh-“

“It’s just that, your hair really does look like starlight and right now-“ well, right now you think if his body could, he’d be flushed all over, “While, yes, you are gorgeous. Sometimes I feel like when I’m with you, there’s this- light. Something,” The hand on his chest moves over his heart, “In there. It’s warm and beautiful, comforting. Like the north star, it guides me,” You’re talking a million miles a minute. Your sleep addled mind has no filter for your mouth. He stares at you, eyebrows raised, anticipating what you’ll say next even though he never knows and doesn’t know why he bothers to try, “to you.” You swallow hard, realizing you’d probably let yourself go a bit too far. His face hasn’t changed and so you try to dig yourself out, “And well- it is in your name, so-“

“Do shut up,” he says, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s different, chaste. Something new entirely and you kiss back, hoping not to break such a delicate thing.

“That would be fine,” He says as he pulls away, “But all this talking has made me rather tired, my love,” he flops back onto the pillows, “and I’d really rather not make the trek back to my bedroll,” he nestles himself back against your pillows, “Far too much hassle.”

“Right,” You nod, “completely.”

“Just don’t go thinking I’m doing this every night.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And it’s really all your fault since you pinned me here. So, if anyone comments in the morning you should admit as such.”

“Yes, dear,” you settle yourself into him, curling around him. He might sleep as stiff as a plank but you were going to make it work.

When you’ve fallen asleep he realizes he’s- happy. He feels satiated somehow without a drop of your blood. Don’t get him wrong, he’d probably partake in the next few hours. But for now, right now, the pit in his chest felt full.

“Gods, where were you?” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your forehead. A sleepy groan leaves you as you stir, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt over his heart.

Perhaps. Perhaps you were there the whole time. The seed of his hopes. Every damned prayer he said to every God. Someone listened, someone took that tiny seed and from it grew you. And here you were, though not to ruin him. No. But to help him.

“Took you long enough,” He mutters, a small laugh escaping him. He takes your hand in his own, lets your warmth sink into his fingers. He couldn’t just yet bring himself to thank whatever God made it possible. He thought maybe one day. Right now he didn’t care much for anything beyond the two of you right here.

For the first time in a long time he dreams of life in the sunlight. You there next to him, as he basks in the warmth of your bright eyes and wide smile.

My masterlist

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #tav #ficlet #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #astarion fluff #fluff #tav fluff #Astarion fic #tav fic #astarion x reader

[th3l0stg1rl]

everything i wanted

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I was listening to this song and I tought about this scenario.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Picture from: Pxfuel (website)

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Pairings: Haitani brothers x reader, Ran x reader, Rindou x reader

Requested: No

Description: You have a nightmare and they comfort you.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of su1c!de, acts of su1c!de, mentions of bullying

Genre: (mostly) angst + fluff at the end

Word count: 902

Character count: 4.9k

Playlist: everything i wanted - Billie Eilish

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were sleeping silently in the bed with the Haitani brothers on both side of you. They sandwitched you between them after a long, tiring day. You were restless the whole day. Paperwork kept you up until late night, so it was nice having the boys with you.

Or so you tought. If the nightmares you've been having for a month now wouldn't ruined it. You tensed up unconscliously and started sweating a little. Ran was the first to wake up after feeling you shift in your sleep. It was strange, because you were a pretty still sleeper.

Then you started mumbling and your breath was getting uneven, startling the black haired male beside you. He sat up and looked over to his brother who also woke up just now, due to you shaking off his hand from your waist by accident.

Rindou sat up too, meeting eyes to eyes with Ran. The blonde looked confused on why you were acting this way. They both frown as you shut your eyes tighter, lips stuttering as tears form in the corner of your eyes.

̶I̶҉̶n̶҉̶ ̶҉̶y̶҉̶o̶҉̶u̶҉̶r̶҉̶ ̶҉̶d̶҉̶r̶҉̶e̶҉̶a̶҉̶m̶...

You were on top of a building. Looking around, admiring the beautiful sight of the sky, you stepped one more step toward the edge. The memories of yesterday flashed trough your mind. The pool.. The people staring at you.. The freezing cold water touching your skin.. The laughing that echoes trough your mind since then.. And the feeling of finally letting go...

That's when you met their eyes. Down there, in the bottom of the building that was surrounded by a big crowd of people, minding their own business. They were just standing right there, in the middle of the rushing mass. Looking at you with no emotion in their faces. That's when it hit you.

'Right, they couldn't care less, could they?' Tears now running down your cheeks, but you smiled trough them. 'Weak.' You didn't hear it, but you knew what had left the blondette's mouth. You knew them too well. 'I wonder, -you said- if they knew what they said would go straight to my head, would they do it again?'

There you are, taking the last step over the edge, falling into the nothing beneath you. Their voice barely reaching your ears trough the white noise filling your ears. Time slows down around you, giving the chance of feeling the world one last time. 'Haitani brothers..' , a sudden tought flashes trough your mind, but gone as fast as it came. You hear your screams of agony as you make impact with the ground, covered in hard concrete. 'It hurts like hell, but soon it will be over' you think.

And it is over, in fact.

̶B̶҉̶a̶҉̶c̶҉̶k̶҉̶ ̶҉̶t̶҉̶o̶҉̶ ̶҉̶r̶҉̶e̶҉̶a̶҉̶l̶҉̶i̶҉̶t̶҉̶y̶

The brothers are now terrified. You did told them about the nightmares that have been haunting you in your sleep. You sure did, but they didn't know what to do right now. You were sweating and trembling while crying hard. And for the worst: you weren't waking up.

They tried waking you up by calling your name, shaking your shoulders, even wet your face with cold water but you just kept whimpering. Rindou hated to see you like this, but he couldn't do anything at the same time. He just laid back down, head on your stomach. With Ran, he was going crazy. It made him mad that he was helpless. But he couldn't do anything either, so he just laid beside you, wrapping his hands around your belly.

You always were there for them if they needed. Being their s/o, it was natural thing to do. And now here they are, puzzled on what they should do. You've been like this for over than 2 hours. As the worst, they were getting tired. It was 3 in the morning and it wasn't weekend anymore.

Suddenly you jolted awake, eyes wide sitting up straight. You did it too fast, your head feels dizzy and you have a terrible headache. For a moment, the Haitanis didn't even know to react at your sudden awakening. Both of them sat up too, fast as lighting, hugging you from both sides.

You calmed yourself down, looking at them. Dark circles under their eyes from worrying too much and not getting enough sleep. You felt guilty, ruining their handsome faces. (For your defense, you were tired too.)

Smiling slightly, you murmur an "It's okay now" and rest your hands against their back, rubbing circles with them.

-We tought you wouldn't wake up..

Rindou said with worry in his tone.

-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you guys too much..

-Why are you apologizing? We should be sorry for being unable to wake y' up from that hell.

It was Ran's turn to speak.

-No, no... You can't do anything when I'm in such state. All you can do is wait for it to end.

-If you say so...

Both of them pulled you back down under the covers. Ran kissed your neck while nuzzling closer to you from behind, hands moving to your waist. Rindou kissed your lips, laying in front of you, pulling you to his chest in a warm embrace. Looking up at him, you kissed him back, melting into the touch that both of the guys gave you.

After this, due to the comfort and tiredness all the three of you immediately fell asleep.

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Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! ♡

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

(reblogs and notes are appreciated!)

#tokyo rev angst #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #rindou haitani #ran haitani #ran x reader #ran x you #ran x y/n #rindou x reader #rindou x you #rindou x y/n #rindou angst #rindou fluff #ran angst #ran fluff #poly relationship #poly reader #tokyo revengers #anime

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hiya! Soo, I was wondering. My character has a cockatiel familiar with a kinda weird, controversial past- he was a gift from Lucio when my character was a child. Of course, they understand the politics behind Lucio now and how, yeah, it wasn't really a good idea to give a child an exotic bird. But nonetheless, he's their familiar. (My blog has a whole fic about it if you'd like to read 👀) But anyways, how are the M6 feeling about this? In general about a bird familiar, and with added context?

Hiya floof! ^.^

Your premise intrigued me so much I admit I clicked right over to your blog and read it XD

It's always fascinating to see how the way we interpret memories changes as our older brains have more context for the situations our younger brains perceived, and I thought you caught that wonderfully btw :)

I've already written a full set of headcanons for M6 meeting MC's familiar:

When MC shows up with a familiar

So here's some quick, shorter headcanons on how I think they'd react to yours!

Julian: initially, very impressed. He too has a bird familiar (though he doesn't realize that that's who Malak is until later) and he's exactly the sort to make jokes about birds of a feather sticking together. He's a little less enthusiastic for a bit when he hears the story behind how you came to own Bip, mostly out of concern that you as a young child were exposed to someone who was so dangerous at the time.

Asra: takes full advantage of the fact that cockatiels can imitate human sounds and has taught Bip all kinds of unusual things to say. Not curse words, no, just absolutely unhinged quotes that nobody expects to hear a bird saying. Depending on how close this is to canon, they either 1) knew before the plague and are already chill with it, or 2) found out at the same time you did and processed it with you.

Nadia: Quietly impressed that you own such an unusual bird and wants to compare notes with you on how you manage Bip vs how she manages Chandra. Might ask you for tips on how to communicate with her own bird better. She'll be very focused on soothing you when she finds out the history, because she finds her own past connection with Lucio agitating and wants to make sure that you're okay.

Muriel: Birds are nice. If a little loud, but give Inanna a second to warm up to Bip and he'll be too melted by their friendship to complain. If he messed with one of the shelves in his hut to make a better perch, no he didn't. He's less concerned with you meeting Lucio than he is with Bip living as one of Lucio's animals for a while, and will make sure the bird is properly treated and cared for with him.

Portia: Given Pepi's tumultuous relationship with Camio, another cockatiel who used to belong to the Count, she's a little jaded when she first meets your familiar until she can tell that they're not the same. It takes a while for her to let Pepi loose while you visit though. She's the least affected by Bip's background - she only arrived in Vesuvia after the plague had ended and the Count had died.

Lucio: Legitimately does not remember giving it to you at first, it was a long time ago and he's held lots of parties. It's hard for you to tell though, because he keeps complimenting your bird and has a strange fascination for it because it's exactly the kind of animal he would have collected at one point. Finally remembers after dreaming about it one night and wakes up in a cold sweat: "That was you!"

Cheers @hewwo-its-floof, hope you liked these!

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #lucio morgasson #lucio the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #julian the arcana #julian devorak #asra the arcana #asra alnazar #nadia the arcana #nadia satrinava #muriel the arcana #muriel of the kokhuri #portia the arcana #portia devorak

[spookyboywhump]

Day One- Sick

Hello! I'm going to do my absolute best to participate in @ailesswhumptober this year! I know I'm already late on day one but. better late than never asdfghjk

This is technically the third (and last) part of These Two pieces, however I wouldn't say they're especially necessary to read this one, just know Wren had an incident with some barbed wire and cold weather.

Fandom: OC's/Original Work

Word Count: 2,533

CW: pet whump, sick whump, emeto, mentions of infections, nonsexual- nudity

***

Something was wrong. Zander was used to waking up in the middle of the night, sometimes for no reason at all, but he woke up that night immediately feeling like something was just off. Almost instinctively, still half asleep, he sat up and looked around the darkened room, before finally looking down at Wren, finding the source of his unease.

 Wren was still fast asleep, but he didn’t exactly look peaceful. He was curled up, arms pulled close to his chest, his eyes were squeezed shut tightly, like he was having a bad dream, and he was trembling. For a moment Zander thought he really was just having a nightmare, he hated to see him so distraught, but as he reached down to brush his hair back from his face he felt his forehead, he quickly realized the poor kid was absolutely burning up. His hair was soaked with sweat, Zander was immediately more awake and alert, his only priority taking care of Wren. 

 “Hey… kid, you need to wake up…” He said, gently shaking him awake. Normally he’d just let him rest but this felt really bad, he felt he needed to do something now. He knew Wren was a heavy sleeper, but after a bit of nudging him he finally stirred, opening his eyes and looking around the room, confused as to what was going on.

 “Huh…? Wh-what’s wrong…?” He murmured, reaching over to push Zander’s hand away. 

 “You need to get up, come on.” He said softly, trying to help him into a sitting position, but Wren just seemed to be confused.

 “Why…? ‘M tired… and I don’t… feel good…” He murmured, trying to lay back down, but Zander was already climbing out of bed to help him up. 

 “Wren, you’re burning up. You have a high fever and I need to cool you down, okay?” He told him. Wren seemed to understand him, or at least he understood that he was being very serious, and he allowed Zander to help him out of bed. He was swaying on his feet, Zander had to hold him steady to guide him to the bathroom. Once he had him under the light he could see just how flushed his face was, he was bright red and simply put, he looked completely out of it. 

 “Do you think you’ll be able to shower on your own?” Zander asked him, turning the shower on but letting the water stay cold. 

 “I… think I need help…” Wren said slowly. At least he understood what Zander was trying to do for him. “Will-will a shower help…?” He asked. His voice was hoarse, Zander wondered if his throat hurt too, but he needed to focus on just the one thing for now.

 “It’s going to be cold, but it’s to bring your fever down. Are you alright with me helping?” He asked, and after thinking for a moment Wren nodded. He got undressed and Zander helped him into the shower, he immediately flinched away from the water but after taking a few moments to get used to it he relaxed. He had to kneel on the floor, too unsteady to support himself, and Zander took the showerhead down to help him better. While he mostly intended to cool him down, he was able to help him clean up as well, washing the sweat out of his hair and giving him some relief. 

 Once he was done he helped him out of the shower and helped him dry off, he mostly just helped him dry his hair though. The last thing he needed was him getting even sicker because he went back to bed with wet hair in a cold room. As it got colder outside their room would also get colder, he didn’t know what was wrong with the way it was built but it was never kept at a comfortable temperature like the rest of the house. Then again, that may have been intentional, he wouldn’t be surprised. He helped him get dressed, he could hardly stand on his own, and then let him get back into bed. 

 “I’m sorry for waking you up, I know you probably wanted to sleep, but… I was worried when I felt how hot you were…” Zander told him, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

 “It’s alright… thank you…” He murmured.

 “Do you feel sick? Aside from the fever, I mean.” Zander said, putting the back of his hand to Wren’s cheek to check on him. He was still incredibly warm, the shower seemed to have brought it down a little bit but not by too much. He knew it wasn’t that far off that Wren might be sick, it was only a few days since Cain had left him out in the cold for hours, but still, he couldn’t help but worry about trying to take care of him when they really didn’t have any resources there in their cell. 

 “Hm… I’m cold now… and my throat hurts… feels like I’ve been swallowing sandpaper…” He yawned. 

 “Alright… Why don’t you try to get some more sleep, I’ll try asking Cain for help tomorrow, okay?” He told him, and Wren nodded.

 “Will you lay with me…?” He asked.

 “Of course.” Zander laid back down with him, Wren cuddled up close while Zander held him in his arms, waiting until Wren fell back asleep to finally drift off himself.

 ***

 Wren woke up hours later, he thought the sleep would’ve done him some good but if anything he felt so much worse. He was hot again, he was sweating and his clothes and hair were sticking to him and he couldn’t stand it, hardly thinking as he kicked the blanket off him and pushed Zander’s arm away. That alone was enough to wake Zander, but Wren was already jumping out of bed, rushing to the bathroom, he knew exactly what would happen to him when he got sick. He’d dropped to his knees just in time to vomit into the toilet, he heard Zander come in behind him and soon felt his hand gently rubbing his back, trying to comfort him through it. 

 He still felt nauseous and sick even after he was finally done, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, his head on his knees. He was trembling so badly he didn’t think he could stand, but Zander stayed with him, and Wren appreciated that he was willing to keep him company no matter how unpleasant it was.

 “Do… you feel better after that?” He asked him, and Wren shook his head, blinking back tears.

 “I just feel like shit.” He muttered. He gave himself a few moments to recover before struggling to his feet, turning on the sink so he could rinse his mouth out and wash his hands. He still felt too hot and overwhelmed by everything, but he desperately hoped that was the last time that would have to happen. 

 He went back to their room and flopped down onto the bed, trying to calm himself down. Zander came and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at him sympathetically. 

 “Hey, when Cain comes in I’ll try to ask him for help, okay? He’s often more… charitable to me when I get sick, so I think I can convince him to do the same for you.” He told him.

 “Yeah, but he-” He was interrupted by a coughing fit, bringing his arm up to cover his face, “He likes you more.” He finished, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t really thinking that hard about what he said, but it was how he felt. Usually he could reason that wasn’t true, Cain was harsh on Zander, he treated him differently but not nicely. In his miserable state though, all he could think about was how Zander could persuade Cain for better treatment, how Cain was charitable to Zander when he was sick, and how he’d beaten Wren senseless for absolutely nothing in the past.

 “What?” Zander laughed. “Cain doesn’t like me.”

 “He dislikes you a lot less than he dislikes me.” Wren shrugged. 

 “I’m sure he hates us both. Absolutely despises us, even.” Zander said, reaching up to brush Wren’s hair back from his forehead. Wren knew he was just trying to comfort him but he didn’t feel comforted, he just felt sad. Of course he had to get sick here, in this awful cell, in this awful place. He was thankful to have Zander with him, but at the same time he wanted to be at home. He wanted his bed, his stuffed animals, he wanted to take a long hot bath and eat his favorite comfort food. That wasn’t an option though, and that just made him all the more miserable. 

 While he laid there simply waiting for whatever was to come, he couldn’t help scratching at his arms. He was still covered in wounds from the barbed wire incident, it hadn’t been that long ago and while most had been reduced to scabs there were still some one his arms and legs that were constantly itching and irritating him, to the point he’d wake up with blood under his nails from scratching in his sleep. He knew it was bad, he knew he should leave it alone, but it drove him so crazy he couldn’t just ignore it. 

 “Wren- stop that.” Zander told him.

 “Why? It hurts.” He told him, but Zander was already grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away. 

 “Shit, how long has it been like this?” He asked, and Wren frowned, he didn’t know what he was so upset about. He looked at him arm, yeah that particular wound didn’t look great, it was red and swollen, he hadn’t given it a chance to heal with how often he was picking at it. 

 “It’s fine.” He told him, using his hand to cover it.

 “It’s not fine, it looks infected. Shit, I should’ve helped you take care of it better.” He looked frustrated, and now Wren felt bad for not taking care of himself better. He didn’t have too much time to feel bad though, as the door opened and Cain stepped into the room, but he seemed to immediately notice something was off.

 “What’s wrong with the pup?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.

 “He’s sick.” Zander told him. “He needs help,  he’s had a fever all night, he threw up earlier, and now it looks like he has an infection…” He said, but Cain was already approaching to assess the situation for himself. He pressed his hand against Wren’s face and Wren almost wanted to lean into his touch, for once he welcomed how cold Cain’s hands were.

 “Shit, he is warm… Do you think this is making him sick, like what happened to you?” Cain asked, kneeling down to get a better look at Wren’s arm. 

 “I don’t know… it doesn’t look as bad as that, right?” Zander asked. Wren kept quiet and simply let them discuss him and his condition, he didn’t love it but he didn’t see any sense in fighting it either. 

 “Not, but you never know… I’ll get him something for the fever and something to eat later on, and I’ll see if Andrew has time to come look at this, okay?” Cain said, standing back up. He left the door open when he left, and Wren was shocked that he actually planned to do anything at all; he hardly knew what to think of it, just looking at Zander in disbelief. 

 “Is he… actually worried…?” He asked him. 

 “He doesn’t like dealing with infected injuries… after the one I had, I don’t think he wants to risk it.” Zander told him. 

 “What happened to you…?” He asked. Zander lifted his shirt, pointing out the scar across his chest.

 “That one was from a whip. I didn’t take care of it and not only did it get infected, but I got really sick, I actually had to stay and let Andrew watch me for a few days.” He told him, pulling his shirt back down. Wren shuddered, he didn’t want it to get that bad. He almost hoped the cold symptoms were completely unrelated, that there wasn’t any infection and there was nothing to worry about. He was already miserable all the time, he didn’t want to deal with his body attacking him as well.

 ***

 Cain did what he said he would do, he brought him some over the counter medicine he had for Wren to take to bring his fever down, and even left some so he could retake it hours later, and later on in the day he brought him some warm soup. It was oddly kind from Cain, and somewhat off-putting, but Wren appreciated it nonetheless. He would rather have that than nothing at all. 

 Andrew wasn’t able to come see him till the next day, which Wren thought would be fine, but by the time he got there, Wren felt so much worse. Everyone agreed he still had a fever, but he was so cold now, he was shivering so violently his muscles ached, his entire body felt sore. Andrew was being gentle as always as he looked him over, but Wren was still trying his hardest to hold back tears, he was just tired of feeling so terrible.

 “I think he just has a cold, you don’t need to worry much about that.” Andrew said, more to Cain and Zander than to Wren. 

 “What about his arm? Does that look infected?” Cain asked.

 “I don't think it's that severe, but if he keeps scratching at it he could risk getting a staph infection. I brought stuff for him just in case, keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t get any worse.” He sighed, standing up from where he knelt beside the bed. “I don’t think it’s as serious as what happened to Zander, but you can’t be leaving him out there in the cold, you already don’t take care of his health very well, I’m not the least bit surprised he got sick from that alone.” 

 “Oh whatever, if he’ll be fine then it doesn’t matter.” Cain rolled his eyes, immediately becoming defensive the moment Andrew tried to tell him what to do. While Wren was thankful Andrew would try to vouch for him like that, he wasn’t surprised that Cain brushed him off like that. He also wouldn’t be surprised if this happened to him again. When he got sick, he got sick, it had been like that his entire life, if this kind of treatment from Cain continued then he very likely would end up this ill again. 

 Once Andrew was done with looking him over, Cain left the room with him to walk him to the door, leaving Zander and Wren alone once again. Though he still felt terrible, he also felt like he was finally able to relax. It was nothing life threatening, he would be fine, he’d survive a simple cold of course, but just like everything else since he’d come here, he’d be miserable the entire time he endured it. 

#ailesswhumptober2023 #whump #emeto tw #my writing #my oc's #sick whump #wren #zander #cain #andrew #i hope i did the tagging/labeling right it's been a while since i participated in one of these #i realize that for me starting with sickfic is kinda lowkey. #but i have desperately been wanting to write poor wren getting ill so it was still fun!

[daisydaisybilly]

a love like this | a.b

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader (gn)

summary: Anthony has a nightmare and the reader comfort him

warnings; mostly fluff, some angst, small mention of injury and that’s it I think

word count: 808

a/n: my schedule has finally cleared so I’m working through my request! Edited but might have missed something.

request: would you be up for an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader imagine where he keeps tossing and turning on the bed and he can’t sleep and he’s afraid that the reader would wake up because of him so he goes to his study and tries to sleep there. but the reader then wakes up and finds anthony sweating because of a nightmare in the couch of the study room so she cuddles him to sleep and when anthony wakes up, he sees the reader falls asleep spooning him, he realizes that he finds comfort in the touch and breathing her scent.

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

Most people would say that Anthony Bridgerton needed no one. Maybe not even his family and if the lady whistledown was to be believed. He was a rake through and through.

Which is why everyone was so shocked when word came of his engagement, even more so when his wedding day actually came. Everyone thought it would only be a matter of time before you came to your senses and called off the wedding.

The people of town said the title must be worth it, that maybe it was a marriage of economic proposition, a business deal pure and simple.

Maybe sometime in the start of your and Anthony’s coruship you thought that too, but you wondered what he could want from you? He had enough money, enough influence and honestly he could have anyone he wanted, but he picked you.

Now though you knew his feelings were true. He would always dance with you at parties, he would always make time for you, eat one meal a day with you and every night before you slept he would kiss your hairline and inhale.

You were happy and you hoped he was happy too.

After a long day Antony loved nothing more than climbing into bed, and watching you undress. Not even in a lustful way. It was amazing to him just how much work went into your day.

Your shy smile as you settled down next to him. While he looked through the last papers of the day you would read something, offered the latest lady whistledown, laughing at the odd line then nudging him and to tell tell him the line through a string of giggles.

Though he doesn’t get it the way you did he always graced you with a dry laugh and smile. He knew it was enough because you would sigh constantly and lean into him.

There was nothing Antony hated more than trying to sleep. It was something he had always struggled with, the room was either too warm or too cold, the bed too hard or too soft, something was always wrong.

He sat up defeated looking down to your peaceful sleeping face. Not wanting to disturb your sleep he took his dressing gown and headed to his study.

The sun had barely risen when you woke up with a feeling something was wrong, reaching out to Anthony’s side of the bed the feeling got worse. The dim light coming from the fire gave you a view of the whole room, where your husband was nowhere to be found.

After wasting four matches you finally lit a candle and went searching for Anthony. Aware the rest of the family were all fast asleep you walked as quietly as you could.

The door to Anthony study was open just a crack, you were just going to walk past but stopped hearing something.

Pushing the door open, stand in the doorway only with the small candle to light your line of sight.

“My love” you called out.

You heard what sounded like a muffed cry, with one last look behind you, you walked into the room. Holding the candle high above you to get a better view, turning on the spot to get the best look.

You nearly dropped the candle seeing Anthony curled up on the small sofa. “My love” you cried rushing over to him, you softly nelt on the floor before him, brushing his hair from his sweaty forehead.

“What happened?” You asked worriedly.

His breathing was too heavy which made you worry more, you were halfway to your feet about to call for a doctor when Anthony reached out of your waist.

“Please don’t leave me” he managed to get out through wobbly breaths.

“I’m not going anywhere” you nodded, sitting down beside him. “Just breathe for me love ''.

He did as you ask, with a little time.

You moved him so you were both lying down. Most of his weight was on you but after shifting around you didn’t mind. As you played with his hair you repeated that you were there and wouldn’t be leaving. He was fast asleep, relaxed and you felt confident enough to sleep yourself.

Giggling woke Anthony hours later, annoyed he looked to the door just in time to see two figures run away, he scoffed lying back down only to be confused by the hard surfaces on your shoulder. That’s when he remembered the night before, the sleepless night, the nightmare that followed when he had got some sleep and then you appeared like an angel in the doorway, holding him until his demons left.

He sat up feeling oddly rested, smiling seeing you still asleep.

Most people would say that Anthony Bridgerton needed no one. That wasn't true, he needed you. And as long as he had you he could live.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony bridgerton x yn #Anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fan fiction #anthony x reader #anthony x you #Anthony fanfic #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony bridgerton imagine

[moriartyluver]

Hello<3 can I request smth where William is working late at night in his study thinking his noble wife is asleep but than she comes to him with tears in her saying she had a bad dream and she refuses to tell William what the dream was about but asks if he’ll ever leave her (not in a leaves her for another woman way but in a he dies way)

Thank you in advance🫶

A/N: thank you for your request anon! I hope that Ican do it justice.

Character: William James Moriarty x fem! Reader

Format: oneshot

Genre: angst with some comfort at the end but it’s mostly bittersweet

Prompt: above ^^

Warnings: mentions of suicide, smoking, self harm, the word ‘cannibalise’ used once or twice, anxiety mentions, mentions of depression and mental illness, somewhat toxic relationship if you squint, reader is a noblewoman, reader is female, established romantic relationship, reader is William’s wife, the end isn’t that comforting tbh, spoilers for season two, takes place after William talks to Fred in that one scene (iykyk), mentions of death.

William often found himself working late at night. It was no surprise to anyone who knew him. You and Louis would often scold him for his lack of self care after finding him asleep and cheek covered in pen ink at his desk in the mornings.

Still, he enjoyed the experience of it. He had to get a lot of work down and he couldn’t just sleep when there were many plans to be completed. It was what he would dedicate himself to outside of teaching in the university and killing nobles. The moon would often be the only light beside the candle on his desk, illuminating the room through his window. It created a melancholy atmosphere for him and one that gave him a strange and twisted sense of comfort.

Tonight was no different to the usual. He was sat at his desk, creating a plan for the next assassination of some sick noble that had to be eliminated. The full moon shon on his papers, casting a blue hue over it. The manor was silent. It usually was at night. Louis had always made an effort to go to bed on time and you had done the same.

A pair of scarlet eyes glanced at the clock on his wall. It was shortly after two o’clock in the morning, and he still didn’t feel too tired. Your husband would often push his limits too much and you noticed this. He wouldn’t sleep despite looking incredibly tired. He wouldn’t eat meals on time despite feeling an empty and hungry feeling in his stomach. He wouldn’t take care of himself in any way despite needing it the most.

He wondered what you were doing as of now as he placed his pen down. He couldn’t remember the last time he had shown you how much he truly appreciated you. You would often kiss him goodnight as he sat in his office, a small frown painting your pretty features, before walking to bed, to lie there by yourself. He would sometimes crawl in with you under the covers while you were still asleep and he had finished whatever work he was up to, but you would wake up to an empty bed more often than not, the comforting feeling of his arms around your waist had gone.

Surely this had some sort of mental impact on you. You knew that your relationship with the love of your life wouldn’t last. The warning signs of his suicidal tendencies had shown themselves to you very evidently. He wouldn’t speak too much of your future together and you noticed his habit of smoking wasn’t because he was an addict, but more a means of punishing himself.

You still clung to the hope that maybe that day would never come, but it haunted you all the same, like a ghost hovering over you through your daily life. No matter how much you lied to yourself, that ghost didn’t seem to disappear. Instead it would cannibalise your soul, eating away at you while you worried for your lover none stop, constantly anxious that he would die any second now.

The ghost haunted your dreams too. Sometimes they wouldn’t be too intense and scary, so you’d only wake up in a cold sweat and a few tears welling in your eyes. If you husband lay beside you, you would wipe your tears as your heart beat steadied and cling onto him, hoping to never let him go, and if he wasn’t, you’d walk over to his office and check up on him, just to reassure yourself that he was real and alive.

That night was different though. You managed to find out through Fred that your husband planned on dying soon and you felt your heart break within your chest. He was going to disappear and there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it.

You woke up from a terrifying nightmare later that night. You saw yourself holding your dead husband in your arms as he lay limp while you held him. The image was too realistic and you thought, at first when you woke up, that it was all real. The realisation that he was alive hit you as your mind managed to rationalise itself afterwards, but you couldn’t stop the tears form uncontrollably flowing down your cheeks.

You couldn’t help yourself. You had to go see him in his office. Just once. Every moment mattered now. Every interaction you had with one another could be your last.

William noticed the door creek open. He looked up from the papers in front of him and his eyes landed on the door. It was you. He was quick to notice the tears streaming down your face and your unsteady breathing. You tried to remain calm and rub away the tears with the sleeve of your nightgown but it only seemed to make things worse.

“(Name), my love, what are you doing here..?” He asked in concern. Liam knew not to be too direct with you and stood up as he spoke to you in a soft voice. “Are you alright, dear?” He asked as he walked towards you. You tried to speak through the tears

“I-..” you coughed quietly to regain your composure “I had.. a bad dream..” you said through sobs.

William wrapped you in his arms, keeping you in his warm embrace. He kissed the top of your head as you pressed your head against his chest. “Would you care to tell me what it was about?” He asked but you shook your head.

“Don’t wanna..” you mumbled into his now wet shirt. He ran a hand through your hair affectionately. He knew you often had nightmares of various things. The nobles you killed would often haunt your dreams, you told him each time it happened. You never told him of your fears of him dying.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? They don’t seem to be this bad usually..I think it would be better to let your worries out..” your husband said to you as he held you closer to him, whispering in your ear as he rubbed shaped on your back with his finger. He then sat you down on a sofa in the study with him while you buried your face in his chest.

“I’ll be fine..” you choked out. You weren’t fine but you had to remain strong, for William, for Louis, for everyone. “Just..” you hesitated, trying to find the right words “promise me that you won’t leave me..? I want to live on with you forever..until we’re only and tried. I want to watch our future grandchildren playing in the garden with you as we sit in our little rocking chairs..so please just..stay.”

William’s eyes widened once more. Had you finally caught onto his suicide mission? He felt a lump form in his throat. He couldn’t say a word but he felt the same way you did. Your husband wanted nothing more than to be able to fulfil that promise, but that wasn’t possible, not in a world like this.

“I’m sorry..” he finally spoke. You let out a quiet sob. That was all you needed to hear. “If there was any other way..I’d choose to spend the rest of my life with you..”

He held you tight. That night you had both fallen asleep in each other’s embrace. There really was no other way around it, was there?

Unless..?

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #mtp william #sherlock holmes

[centralperkchenford]

Hello! First time sending a prompt hahaha I hope it makes sense: Tim realizing before Lucy that she’s pregnant and her being mostly non the wiser until she has a oh shit moment.

Thank you for always filling us with chenford content✨💕

This got me out of my slump so thank you for sending it in!

Tim realizing before Lucy that she’s pregnant and her being mostly non the wiser until she has a oh shit moment.

Or

4 times Tim realizes Lucy is pregnant and 1 time she does

Come on, baby, with me; We're going to fly away from here

1. Morning Sickness

Tim knows something is up the minute he wakes up and Lucy isn’t in bed besides him. He reaches for her but all he gets is the coldness of the sheets. He rolls over and sighs when he sees his wife’s spot is indeed empty. He rolls out of bed and slips on his shirt from the night before and then leaves the bedroom to look for Lucy. She’s not in the kitchen or living room. He wonders back into the bedroom and pushes his way into the en suite bathroom he finds Lucy sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her head between her knees. Tim walks over to her slowly and then kneels in front of her.

“Hi baby.” He says quietly. “What’s wrong?” She lifts up her head and Tim is startled to see she is white as a ghost and sweating.

“I-I think I have food poisoning.” She says hoarsely. Tim frowns but rubs her back nonetheless. They are silent for a few minutes before Lucy is launching herself off the tub and onto the floor where she throws up into the toilet.

Tim makes his way over to her and kneels down and pulls her hair back and rubs her back. “Luce, we had the same thing last night. How are you sick but I’m not?” He asks her gently and she rests her face on the toilet seat cover.

“My stomach just is more sensitive.” She replies softly her voice still rough and hoarse. Tim frowns again because something wasn’t adding up. They had lasagna last night and Lucy had eaten every last bite. He taps his fingers on her back, “When did you first feel sick baby?” He asks.

She shrugs her shoulders her face still on the toilet seat, she turns so one cheek was on the seat and she was half looking at him.

“It was early this morning.” She answers after a minute. “I just felt nauseous all of a sudden.” Tim licks his lips and looks down at Lucy. His eyes wondering to her stomach, and then a sudden thought occurs to him. He has been around enough pregnant women to know the symptoms and suddenly feeling nauseous could be morning sickness.. which could mean. Lucy could be pregnant, and it’s totally possible because they haven’t been doing anything to prevent it. They both want a family and even though they have only been married 6 months they knew they wanted to start it soon.

“Lucy.” He says quietly. “Sweetheart could you be..” But he doesn’t finish his sentence because she’s suddenly throwing up again. Tim signs as he rubs her back again. He would talk to her about it later.

2. Tired/fatigue

The next time Tim realizes Lucy could be pregnant is when she starts tossing and turning in her sleep and then she wakes up exhausted the next day. Tim watches as Lucy drags herself to the kitchen and starts to make herself breakfast. She pulls the bread out of the bag and then tries to put it in the sink.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Tim asks her. She looks up and he sees she has bags under her eyes.

“I’m trying to make breakfast.” She says her voice rough with sleep. He raises his eyebrows at her and if he wasn’t so concerned he would laugh.

“In the sink?” He asks. She blinks at him and then turns back to see what she’s doing. She sighs and pulls back. Tim is already getting the toaster from the pantry and putting some bread into it. He starts it and then goes over to Lucy, and leads her to the table and sits her down.

“Luce what’s wrong?” He asks and he thinks back to the other morning when he asked that exact question.

“I’m just tired.” She answers putting her head on the table and looking at him her eyes heavy with sleep. “I have been working more.” She adds when Tim gives her a look.

And that was true, she had taken on more cases when one of the other detectives went on maternity leave and he as so proud of her because she was succeeding in being a detective. But if taking on a few more cases was making her this tired he didn’t like it. And then he remembers his thought from the other morning. She could be pregnant, tiredness and fatigue was yet another sign of pregnancy.

“Babe.” He says and he looks over at his wife to see she is asleep on the table a soft snore coming from her. He sighs and then gently shakes her. “Luce, wake up.” He says softly. It takes a few minutes but she finally opens her eyes and blinks warily at him.

“Oh my god. I’m tired.” She mutters. He lets out a bemused laugh and she sits up straight just as the toast pops out of the toaster. He sighs and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek. Later. He would definitely talk to her about it later.

3. Mood Swings

The next time Tim realizes that Lucy is pregnant is when she starts snapping at everyone. Including him. And he’s used to her teasing him and them arguing about little things but this is a different.

He is just coming into the house with Kojo when Lucy comes storming up to him, her face beat red.

“Where have you been?” She snaps at him. He looks down at Kojo who is looking at Lucy in confusion. Lucy doesn’t wait for his answer. “Dinner has been on the table for twenty minutes.” Tim opens his mouth to answer and then shuts it because Lucy is turning her back on him and storming to the bedroom. He winces when he hears the door slam shut, Kojo whines a little and Tim bends down to take his leash off.

“It’s okay buddy.” He mutters. “I think she’s pregnant.” He’s not sure why he hasn’t brought this up to Lucy yet. This is the third sign that she may be pregnant. He is just surprised she hasn’t figured it out yet. He puts Kojo out in the backyard to go to the bathroom and then slowly make his way towards the bedroom.

“Babe?” He knocks on the door and he hears Lucy sniffling inside. “Luce? Can I come in?” There is no answer but Tim opens the door anyway and cautiously makes his way inside. Lucy is on the bed, her face buried in his pillow. He climbs on the bed next to her and tugs her up.

“Lucy.” He says and she looks up at him and bites her lips.

“I’m sorry.” She cries and then buries her face into his shirt as her body is wrecked by sobs. “I’m sorry I have been such a bitch lately. I don’t know what is wrong with me.” Tim makes a soft noise and pulls her closer and buries his nose into her hair.

“Lucy, you aren’t being a bitch.” He says soothingly. You are growing a human being is what he wants to say but somehow he thinks that it may make it worse. So instead he holds her closer and kisses the top of her head.

After a few minutes she looks up at him, her eyes still swimming with tears. “I don’t deserve you.” She says hiccuping a little. “You are so wonderful even when I’m—” Tim kisses the top of her head again.

“I love you Lucy. No matter what.” He says. “You are my whole world and my favorite person even when you snap at me.” This makes Lucy laugh cry into his shirt.

“I love you too.” She says softly. He holds her closer and there is a stretch of silence before he speaks again.

“Why were you making dinner? It’s 9am.” He says. Lucy just buries her face into his shirt again as she vibrates with laughter.

4. Changing tastes in food/drink aversions and sensitivity to smells

The next time Tim realizes that Lucy is definitely pregnant is when she completely stops drinking coffee. And stops liking all her favorite things, tacos, lasagna etc. She comes into the kitchen one morning and he already has a cup of coffee ready for her. Sugared up and all. She smiles at him when she sees it and picks it up and takes a drink and immediately spits it out.

“Oh god.” She moans and he looks over at her in concern. “I don’t like coffee anymore.” Tim tilts his head at her in confusion.

“What do you mean? Is it too bitter?” He asks concerned he didn’t put enough sugar in there. He knows how she is about her coffee being too bitter. But she shakes her head and goes to put the entire cup of coffee into the sink.

“No!” She says and she stomps her feet a little. “I just don’t like the taste anymore.” Tim sighs a little bit as he looks at his wife. This isn’t the first time this week she has thrown something out because she didn’t like the taste of it or the smell of something. Last night, she had to leave the room because he was drinking beer and she said she felt like she could puke from the smell. He takes a deep breath and then walks over to Lucy and puts his hands on her shoulders tilting her chin to look up at him.

“Luce.” He says seriously. “I think you may be pregnant.” Lucy stares at him her brown eyes wide as she takes in his words.

“What are you talking about?” She says in bewilderment. “I’m not pregnant.” Tim shakes his head at her stubbornness.

“Baby, think about it. You throwing up, you being tired, your mood swings and now your aversion to certain foods and coffee? Those are all signs of being pregnant.” He says softly.

Lucy rolls her eyes at him. “Okay. One that was good poisoning, two I had a lot on my plate with work, three you are annoying sometimes and four I just don’t like coffee!”

Tim just stares at her hoping she will get the point that she is indeed pregnant and she is being very stubborn right now.

But she shakes her head, “Tim I’m not pregnant. I know my body I would know if I was pregnant.” She says crossing her arms. Tim sighs and he knows he’s not going to win this argument today.

But he does know he is right.

+1 Missed period

“Tim!” Lucy’s panicked voice sounds from the bathroom and Tim drops the spoon he was holding and rushes to the bathroom. He pushes his way in and finds Lucy on the toilet staring down into it a confused look on her face.

“What wrong?” He asks in concern. She looks up at him her eyes wide. She bites the inside of her cheek before she speaks.

“I’m late.” She practically squeals. “I’m late.” It takes a few seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up to what she is saying. She’s late? She’s late for what? And then it occurs to him. Oh right.

Lucy stares at him and he stares back. He’s not quite sure what to say because he knows Lucy has realized he was right.

“I told you so.” He blurts out and then covers his mouth with his hand as she glares at him.

“I told you so?” She growls. He shakes his head at his own stupidity and then kneels down in front of Lucy.

“I’m sorry. But it’s true baby. You are pregnant!” He says and a smile lights up her face as she starts giggling.

“Oh my god!” She says and she stands up so fast she almost knocks him over. “We are having a baby!” He nods and he stands up himself.

“Yeah we are!” He says and his heart his pounding and even if he’s known for awhile it’s all starting to set in.

They are going to be parents.

Lucy grabs Tim so they are chest to chest and kisses him hard. It’s a little sloppy as they both are laughing and smiling so much but to Tim it’s perfect.

Lucy takes a pregnancy test the next day just to confirm that she is indeed pregnant. And when the two lines appear on the stick, Tim’s heart starts beating in his chest as they both stare down at it.

Positive.

He puts his hand on her belly and she grins up at him, her eyes full of tears. He’s not sure he has ever been happier than he is right now in this moment. They are having a baby! He’s going to be a daddy! And he couldn’t wait!

#chenford #the rookie #chenford fanfic #tim bradford #tim x lucy #lucy chen #chenford fic #anon answered

[arealcrow]

nightmares

3k, d&d (saltmarsh)

After a harrowing night on a smugglers' ship, Sendoa's dreams haunt him. Also: he checks in on a friend.

The brig smells like rusting metal and rotting wood more than anything else. Some days the smell of rust comes from his own blood. His cell is small and cramped, there’s barely enough space for him to move around in, and the shackles on his wrists are a heavy reminder that even if he had space, there’s nothing he could do. At least it’s mostly quiet, just the occasional sound of boots on the wood above him. They leave him in peace most of the time. It’s a hungry and aching peace but it’s better than the days where they try to get him to talk. 

Sendoa doesn’t sleep well after the night they take the smugglers' ship, and not just because he misses the gentle sway of the ocean rocking him to sleep. The first night, he wakes up every three hours in a cold sweat. The sound of wood creaking echoes in his ears, and remembering the small space he'd spent months in makes him feel restless even now. As quietly as he can- which is not as quietly as he’d like- he slips out of bed and sets about starting his day. 

The sun outside has only barely started to approach the horizon, its first rays of the morning barely light up the clouds littering the sky. It’s more than enough light for him to start preparing for breakfast. There’s a jar that usually keeps bread starter on the counter, and when Sendoa opens it he’s unsurprised to find it’s heavily depleted from all of the baking his mother had been doing over the past week. Inside there is just enough to start a small loaf for just the two of them without fully depleting it.

He watches the sunrise through the kitchen window as he works. The golden light slowly creeps over the horizon and coats the coastal town in early morning warmth, driving the clouds from the sky. As he kneads the dough, he recites a small prayer to Pelor, for strength and radiance throughout his day, and for blessings of safety for his family.

When Idoya pads sleepily into the kitchen a few hours later, she finds a warm cup of tea waiting for her. 

"Oh, Sen, this is wonderful. Thank you, dear," she says, voice still hoarse with sleep, and settles down on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

"Of course," he says as he sets a plate with toasted bread, two eggs, and small cups of jam and butter on it. "You've been cooking for the community all week, it's the least I could do." 

Though his tone is light, he means the words very seriously. Idoya is a ball of energy- he takes after her in that way- and she's always directed that energy towards helping those around her. It's the least he can do to try and keep her off her feet and relaxing for a little longer.

"You're so sweet," she smiles and her eyes light up with affection. He gives her a small smile back and quickly turns to fix himself a plate. Even from his family, praise makes him feel uncharacteristically shy.

"Just for you," he says, and they both know he's not being entirely truthful. Idoya knows how attached Sendoa can get, when he lets himself. She knows how many nights he spends grieving the friends he lost at sea years ago.

“How was the potluck?” he asks, before she can praise him further. 

“It was lovely. I brought plenty of things home for you to try,” she says matter of factly as she spreads jam over her toast. She levels a look at him before adding, “You were very missed, and not just by me.” 

“Thank you, mom,” he says, bowing his head, “I’m sorry again for not going.”

“I know, I know,” she says and sighs, resigned. 

“It was important, promise,” he sips his tea, thinking on his words carefully before he continues, “We found smugglers off the coast, and took care of their ship. Turned over the things they stole to the guards, and everything. Though, I think we get to keep the ship.”

He waits for the surprise to pass from Idoya’s face before he continues.

“And there were people on the ship, captives that the smugglers’ had taken,” he starts, and then stops to reassure his mother when he sees worry spread on her face, “They’re okay now, we got them off the ship safely. I- uh- was thinking about checking on them both? I knew one of them, from when I was in the marines. I’m.. worried about him.”

It takes her a few moments to process what he’s told her.

“I’m glad they got off that ship safely, as I’m glad that you did,” she says, her worry about him plain in her eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

He smiles down towards his cup of tea, and she reaches forward to ruffle his still sleep mussed hair.

“That’s my little ray of sunshine.”

“Moooom, stop-”

-

The faces of his captors blur together, either from the haziness of the dream or the fog of repressed memory, he can't be sure. What stands out is a wide and wicked smile, like a cat that's got its claws sunk deep in a mouse. The shifting faces of the figure in front of him melt between memories of his captors before solidifying into his captain's blood splattered features.

Sendoa jerks awake, gasping for air. 

"What the fuck am I doing?" he says, the words coming out airy and quiet. 

It takes him minutes of sitting there in the early morning light to catch his breath again. He huffs a sigh when he realizes that the amount of light filtering into his room already means it’s definitely too late to try and get more sleep. The sound of his mom puttering around the kitchen reaches his ears as he wakes up fully and comes into his body. Moving on autopilot, he dresses for the day and says a quick good morning to his mother and grandmother. Breakfast is laid out on the kitchen island, and he tries to be as quick and unobtrusive as possible as he packs up a basket of food. He grabs enough of the bread, fruit, cheese, and tea for two servings.

“Not staying for breakfast?" his grandmother asks. Sendoa can’t help but think she resembles an osprey sitting on a cliff as her piercing eyes watch him. "And I came all this way to see you."

Out of respect, Sendoa doesn’t point out that she lives next door. 

“No, sorry, got plans today. Gonna visit a.. friend,” he’s not sure if it’s too forward to call someone he’s only worked with before a friend, but he cares for Duri and the word is out before he thinks further than that, “I wanna make sure he’s doing okay.”

His grandmother gives his mom a long, suspicious look at his hesitation, who simply shrugs her shoulders. He’d told her of his plans to check in on Duri’s well being already. He didn’t tell her about the nightmares, or about how jumpy he’s felt since that night, but he knows she can see the fatigue in his eyes. His memories and thoughts weigh heavy on him. Whatever conflicted feelings he was having about his crew mates, she was content to let him process them in his own time. If he needed her help, she was there.

“Very well, then,” Naia says, and sips at her tea, “You’d better take something sweet as well, to round the meal off.”

“Oh! I know!” his mother disappears into their pantry and then reappears holding a small jar full of deep amber. “Evelyn brought us some fancy, imported honey at the potluck. Take that with you, as a gift for your friend.”

Before Sendoa can even think to refuse, his mother is already packing the honey into his bundle for him. Once her mind is set on something, she rarely takes no for an answer; especially not when it comes to her kindness.

“Okay, I’ll take him the honey. Thank you, mom. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it,” he says with a small smile, and packs the bundle of food into his back.

“Of course, hun,” Idoya places her hands on his shoulders when he stands up again, holding him still so she can press a kiss to his cheek. “I hope you have a good time. Don’t stay out too late, okay?”

“I won’t, I’ll be home before sundown. I promise.” He leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead, and then heads out into the bright morning.

He still isn’t entirely sure how long Duri was on that ship, but even a short time in a space like the one they found him in must have taken its toll. He also isn’t sure what happened to the ship that Duri had been on beforehand- had he been the only survivor? The other person being held captive didn’t seem familiar to him, so he clearly hadn’t been captured with Duri. Seeing your crew go down around you is another thing that he knows from experience can weigh heavy on someone’s shoulders.

As he walks, he supposes that the specifics of the hardship don’t matter that much. The comfort he’s trying to bring is what matters.

It occurs to him only when he’s already standing in front of the door that he’s pretty sure is Duri’s, that he didn’t give any warning that he would be stopping by today specifically. He’s also not entirely certain he’s at the right place. The directions he was given were from a few days ago and he hadn’t written them down until he got home that night, he could have misremembered. Or Duri could have misremembered; captivity can scramble the brain.

He stands there hesitating too long. When the door in front of him opens, Duri almost walks right into him. 

“Oh-!” Duri looks surprised to see him, but pleasantly so, “Sendoa, hello. I, uhm- what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see how you were holding up,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. He holds up the basket, “I brought breakfast. It’s okay if you’re busy though, I can come back-”

“No, no,” Duri’s eyes dart to the basket of food and then back to his face, “Your timing is great, I was just going out to get something for breakfast. Please, come in. Make yourself at home.”

After being led into the apartment, Sendoa does just that. He puts water on for tea, and then sets about unloading his basket. The food is carefully arranged on two plates; he makes sure the plate he prepares for Duri has the nicer looking pieces of fruit. The jar of honey has a wooden dipper with the shape of a bee carved on the end tied onto it with a ribbon, which he takes and places in the jar for convenience. He sticks to small talk until the tea is ready; just asking about how Duri’s morning has been going, chatting about the weather and the ever bustling activity at the docks. The intrusion into Duri’s space doesn’t seem to draw any complaints, only curious eyes on him as he putters around the kitchen. It’s only after he places a plate and a cup of tea in front of Duri that he’s ready to start prying.

“How have you been? Since that night on the ship?” he asks, watching carefully as Duri sips the tea. His eyes are focused, probably unnervingly so, like he’s trying to tell if he’s been eating and sleeping enough just by looking at him.

“I’m doing better, now that I’m on land,” Duri says with a small, almost sheepish smile.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sendoa says, returning the smile. “How long were you on that ship?”

“As a captive? Thankfully not as long as Oceanus, only about a week. But I had been hired on by them before that as a healer. And no-'' he sees the look on Sendoa’s face, “I didn’t know they were smugglers. I thought they were merchants, it seemed like a standard job.”

“So how’d you end up locked in a closet?”

“Well, when I realized they were, in fact, not merchants, I was making plans to turn them in once we got to port. Unfortunately we didn’t make it that far before they realized what I was going to do.”

“I see,” Sendoa resists the urge to call Duri a fool, affectionately, both for not realizing what kind of ship he’d been hired onto, and for getting caught. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t stuck there longer. Though even a week was miserable, I’m sure. And I’m glad they didn’t throw you overboard, or something. The seas would have lost a good man.”

“Oh, you’re too kind, really,” Duri looks around at the spread of food and tea between them. It’s all very kind. “I’m glad to be out of there. It was fortuitous that you and the others showed up when you did.”

A look passes over Duri’s face like he’s considering something, and a moment of silence passes before he speaks again.

“So,” Duri starts, and gives Sendoa a curious look, “How did you end up on a crew with pirates?”

Sendoa can’t help but laugh a little at the question, one he has asked himself multiple times over the past few days. 

“In my defense. Or I guess their defense. There hasn’t been any piracy while I’ve been around. Nothing egregious anyway,” he has to think on that for a second, and then add, “At least not recently.” 

It’s not a very reassuring answer, and the look on Duri’s face is one of worry.

“Most of them I only just met, it hasn’t been long. They helped clear some house that was giving the guard trouble, that led us to the ship- and you,” he leans back in his chair, considering the group. 

“Susie’s just a kid. I’m not really worried about her. Well, I am, but not in the same way as the other two. Ny is… I think he’s alright,” the memory of a shadowy tentacle makes him add, “Mostly okay, probably not dangerous to us anyway.”

“And the captain?”

“Hadrien’s another story.”

Duri raises an eyebrow at him. 

“First time I met him was when I was a marine, just some pirate on the other end of my blade. Slippery, though. His ship escaped our grasp back then and I didn’t think twice about it until he showed up here,” he says, eyes distant as he recounts his thoughts, “He’s very, very good at what he does. Which is mostly killing, but he’s good with the group too. And a little too good at talking. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and I feel like I could probably toss him pretty far.”

Duri nods, seeming to agree with his conclusion, “He seems like bad news, like he could become a problem if no one’s there to stop him.”

Sendoa nods as well. He doesn't like letting the pirate out of his sight. “He’ll make a problem or one will find him, that’s the feeling I’ve been getting.”

“Well,” Duri sits up a little bit, “If he becomes a problem, it sounds like we’ve got an otherwise seaworthy crew. I’ve seen mutinies before, I’m sure I could lead one.”

Sendoa’s not sure how serious he’s being, even still he laughs softly and says, “That sounds like a plan. I’ll just throw him overboard for you, and make Susie the captain instead. She’s already got the hat.”

Duri laughs as well, and Sendoa feels less tense than he has in days. The weight he’s felt, carrying his doubts alone, feels like it has started to lift from his shoulders. It’s easy to talk to him about this, reassuring.

“Thank you for breakfast,” Duri says, once a comfortable quiet has settled between them. 

“Oh, yeah, you’re welcome,” Sendoa says, shrugging a shoulder and looking down at his cup of tea. “Really it’s nothing. You should come over sometime and I could make you a real meal.”

"That sounds very nice," Duri says after only a few seconds of hesitation. That sheepish smile is back on his face, which only encourages Sendoa.

"Then it's settled. I'll make you dinner. I'll make whatever you want, so think about it a bit."

“Whatever I want?” Duri asks, raising one eyebrow challengingly.

“Whatever you want that I could reasonably get ingredients for,” Sendoa counters, grinning.

“Alright,” Duri leans back in his chair and sips his tea thoughtfully, “I’ll think about it.”

-

There's one small porthole he can stand by and lean his face against- when he has the energy- to feel the sun on his skin and let fresh, sea air clear his senses. A small mercy in captivity. One he carries with him when he finds freedom again. 

After the pirates ransom him back to the Navy, he spends a month in a hospital, stuck under the healer's careful eyes. The warmth of the sun and the sound of waves crashing against the shore keep him looking forward, keep it from feeling like another cage. More than one cleric suggests he go home, and end his time in the marines. Still, he requests placement on another ship. He can’t go home- doesn’t go home for another year, when his mother finally begs him to.

The sun’s comfort was with him that night on the smugglers’ ship as well; it’s healing mercy keeping him standing and his shining blade smiting down smugglers.

With his grandfather’s sword clutched tightly in hand as he kneels in a sunlit courtyard to take his oath, Sendoa prays. He prays Pelor’s strength will be with him as he wields the light to strike down his foes. He prays for the courage to defend those in need of protection, and for the clarity to mete out mercy to those who deserve it. 

#sendoa calyn #my writing #rereading this esp after last saltmarsh's super rp heavy sesh is realllllyyyy satisfying actually #his convo with duri is soo funny bc at this point hes like . oh my god i think im a pirate #also he feels. very differently about his captain now LMAO

[seijorhi]

Choke.

another soulmate au nobody asked for :)

Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou

TW dub-con, implied future non-con

It wasn’t a good day to begin with.

You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.

And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.

With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.

Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:

A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–

Shock.

Dawning surprise. 

A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping. 

The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.

Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.

And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them. 

They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis. 

His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.

And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.

Soulmates. 

You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.  

And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger. 

For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.

There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.

The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.

He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word. 

You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself. 

“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam. 

—

The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.

“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”

And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.

Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.

“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again. 

Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react. 

Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.

You felt his love when he held you, right?

Happy when he was happy?

But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.

“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”

He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”

He’s gone when you wake the next morning.

—

In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.

Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.

(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)

The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment. 

At 2am in the morning. 

And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.

“Holy crap, you’re here.”

It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.

He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.

And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.

But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”

You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”

Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”

Oh. 

Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least. 

It should, but it doesn’t. 

Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.

It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.

If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude. 

It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?

“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile. 

It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat. 

Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?

Give them a chance?

Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.

“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”

But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly. 

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.

This is fine.

You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.

You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.

“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”

Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”

When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.

“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile. 

First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.

You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off. 

Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.

And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”

 Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds. 

“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”

He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go. 

And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–

He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.

You have to try. 

So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.

Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”

Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”

Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.

“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”

Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”

“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”

“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”

That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine. 

Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.

Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.

Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.

And the love. 

Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.

You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.

Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.

Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess. 

And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.

“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”

There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.

You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you. 

And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–

That wasn’t right.

It wasn’t normal.

Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?

Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!

This– this whole thing is wrong.

You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.

On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.

It doesn’t stop.

And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.

It was an accident, a misunderstanding.

But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.

And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–

“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”

There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.

You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.  

“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

—

When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.

Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.

I’m sorry about last night, just need some space. 

You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.

God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.

You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.

Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.

‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’

And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–

But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?

Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.

And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.

Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.

You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent. 

“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door. 

Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord. 

Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours. 

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”

And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.

They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you. 

“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.

“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”

And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”

“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–

Bokuto’s faster. They both are.

Stronger, too. 

#yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere bokuto kotaro x reader #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #yandere bokuto koutarou #yandere akaashi keiji #tw dub con #tw implied noncon #soulmate au

[devalient]

Tired But Never of You (Part 4)

warning: cursing

Part 1 ~ Part 2  ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

wordcount: 6.5k+

It has been six months since you started your training with Sanemi and your speed and agility were the skills that you were the proudest of. Your level was still a few pars below Sanemi’s, but you were catching up quickly and it’ll probably take you a few more months before you would be as fast as him, much to your delight. However, in terms of battle, you were “just shit” according to him. You mentioned to him that you wanted to try out for the final selection during dinner one time and that was how you found out how he sees you in battle. Although Sanemi has his gentler side, when it comes to training sessions, he was simply the devil. No wonder he didn’t have any tsuguko under him, people were mostly too terrified to even come close to him, let alone apply for the position, and based on his personality, you doubted that he would even bother to scout for one. From what you gathered, that man only liked doing a handful of things - killing demons, hunting demons, playing with his pet beetle or any furry animals and eating ohagi. When he’s not out hunting or slaying demons, Sanemi is on patrol and if he travels too far to make it back home, he’ll stay out the night, but you can always be sure that he’ll return before you wake up the next morning. You are both a late sleeper and riser, which was something he hated because he liked to start training at the break of dawn and you often find your pillow and futon ripped away from you when he wakes you up for the training sessions. You mostly started your day fuming and quarreling with him but your swordsmanship skills somehow satisfied his standards when you fought with anger.

This morning, however, you were surprised to find yourself waking up naturally with the sunlight seeping in through the cracks of the windows. You blinked a couple of times before pinching yourself on the cheek, thinking you were in a dream. The only time Sanemi would let you sleep in is when he was out on a mission for a couple of days and would not be there to wake you up, but he didn’t mention that he was going on one to you the night before. Startled, you snapped your head to where he was sleeping and your mouth dropped open in shock to see his figure laying next to you. You slowly inched closer to him, half wondering if this was a new tactic he was using to test your fighting skills. Maybe he’ll pounce on you the moment you let your guard down. Half of the futon had been kicked off his upper body, exposing his chest and you saw that he was sweating and breathing heavily. 

“Nemi?” You whispered, a trembling hand reaching to touch his forehead. “I’m going to touch you now, please don’t twist my arm. This is not an attempted attack.” You almost laughed at what you said. Part of your training with Sanemi is to give each other surprise attacks and you were hoping that his reflexes wouldn’t work on you when he’s sleeping. Sanemi cracked his eyes open by an inch when he felt a cold hand touching his forehead.

“What?” He coughed and started to sit up, groaning when he felt a headache taking over. Curse that damn demon last night, Sanemi guessed that he must have caught a cold after slipping and falling into a river accidentally while he was out on his job. 

You frowned at him and laid on half of his body to force him to lay back down. “You’re having a fever, Shinazugawa-sama.”

“Ditch the formalities, y/n, you know I hate it. I have to patrol the perimeters today,” Sanemi told you shortly, but didn’t attempt to get up again, enjoying your fingers that were massaging his scalp to relieve his headache.

“I’ll tie you up if you don’t get some rest. I’ll take over for you, your only job for today is to sleep.”

“But-”

You interrupted him sternly, “No but’s. It’s not going to be dangerous, you’ve been exterminating all demons that wander into your territory all the time, I’ll be fine.” You waited for his reply but couldn’t hear anything. “If I run into a demon, I’ll just run and hide. You said it yourself that I’m pretty good in ambushing and hiding my presence.”

A few minutes passed after you said that and just as you thought Sanemi had fallen asleep, he started speaking again, “Fine. Maybe just go halfway and come back. Sourai!”

A crow came hopping into the room and you thought you saw it bowing at Sanemi in the dark. “Yes, master.”

Before Sanemi could give the crow his instructions, you spoke first. “Morning Sourai, would you mind getting some medicine for Shinazugawa-sama from the Butterfly estate? I believe he’s having a fever.” The crow looked over at Sanemi in response and after receiving a nod from the pillar, it bowed its head again and promptly flew off. You shook your head and chuckled at its departure, just like his master, the crow never takes orders from anyone other than the superior he acknowledges. 

“Where are you going?” Sanemi’s arm snaked around your waist and held you closer to him when you tried to leave his futon. “You don’t need to set out early if you’re only patrolling half the perimeter.”

“To cook porridge for the sickly.” You pushed his arm away and rolled out of bed, catching him sulking. “Suck it up, Nemi. You can’t have anything else other than that.”

“Fine. Be quick about it.” Sanemi huffed. He wanted you to cuddle him until Sourai returns with the medicine but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Instead, he held your hand and kissed your wrist before turning over to face the other side. You laughed at his embarrassment and lightly kissed his cheek before you hurried over to the kitchen, blushing furiously yourself. Both of you liked the affection you showered each other with during your private time, but are always too embarrassed to keep it up for more than a few seconds. Sanemi had fallen asleep by the time you returned to his room and you quietly left the porridge and a huge jug of water near him before getting dressed. After a second thought, you took his nichirin sword along with you too. Just in case.

Durability was equally as important as speed in battles, something Sanemi has told you on more than one occasion. Of course, one wouldn’t survive without having useful brain cells too. That was another line he added after realising how crappy you were in fighting. It wasn’t because you weren’t able to pick up on wind breathing, you had memorised all nine forms from the get-go and were able to do them well, but never applied them during your fights and often resorted to spontaneous rhythms instead. On a couple of occasions when you focused hard on using the forms, your speed and agility will decrease immensely and your level was probably worse than an amateur. Sanemi was particularly exasperated over this and no matter how many punishments he gave out to correct you of your mistake, nothing ever changes. If you could barely able to apply the breathing style correctly, how the hell could he let you go to the final selection? Sometimes you wonder if you disappoint him by not applying the techniques.

Not heeding Sanemi’s request, you decided to finish patrolling the entire perimeter before heading home. If you run fast enough, you should be able to make it home in time to cook dinner and to check on him. You just hope that he wouldn’t come and search for you while feeling sick, hopefully Sourai would peck him every time he attempts to leave his bed. Time should be something blurry to him now that he’s running with a fever and hopefully he wouldn’t notice that you were gone a couple hours too long. By early evening, you have reached the end of Sanemi’s territory and took a ten minutes break by the lake, watching the sun set and letting the cool breeze cool you down. Okay, so you weren’t back in time to cook dinner, but if you ran all the way without stopping, you should be able to reach home in about an hour. Halfway through sprinting through the woods, you heard a woman wailing loudly for her lost child. You didn’t make your presence known and peeked at her from behind some bushes, shocked to see her covered in blood and scratches and her wooden hut almost completely ruined. Her husband came home just when you were about to show yourself. 

“Dear! Our baby! A monster took our baby!” sobbed the wife hysterically. “I left him in his crib for a few minutes to bring in more firewood and when I came back I saw it hovering over his crib and it took him!”

She must have fought against the demon to get her child back, judging by her appearance and the state of the house. The injury on her looked fresh and you were sure the demon was not far away and started your pursuit, knowing that if you head home to report this to Sanemi, the pillar might be too late to rescue the child. You could only hope the demon wasn’t hungry enough to devour the baby on its way to its hiding place, it could easily do so in just a couple of bites. You knew which direction to go because the woman kept screaming and pointing towards the west and soon saw the muddy trail the demon had left behind. 

You thought it was odd that the demon didn’t kill the mother and figured it was just because it feast solely on children. Sanemi did mention some demons have a preferred type of food they like to consume. It must be some new demon that had wandered into Sanemi’s terrority, otherwise, it would have been killed by the pillar already. When you caught a giggle coming not too far off, you began to slow your breathing to a stop to prevent it from hearing you, only taking in breaths from time to time. That was a technique you liked to use to conceal your presence, even Sanemi couldn’t hear you when you did that. You hopped from tree to tree to conceal your movements further and a chill ran down your spine when you saw the demon was cuddling the baby close to its chest, singing hoarsely to it to try to calm it down from crying. It was heavily overweight and the tattered kimono it had on looked like it was going to burst from holding all the demon’s flesh in. You couldn’t see its face for its long hair had covered it completely. The baby’s cry grew louder when the demon brought it closer to her face and you knew you had to do something quick. Silently, you slid down the tree and went behind the demon to ambush it, drawing out Sanemi’s blade and clutching it between your hands tightly. You’ve never slayed a demon before and were told that their necks can be tough to cut at times, hopefully this demon’s an exception. 

“You’re coming at me the wrong way.” 

Some dark liquid came flying out from the back of the demon’s head and caught you right in the eyes. You screamed in both shock and pain and vigorously tried to wipe the liquid off your eyes with your sleeves. Sniggering, the demon stood up straighter and the curtain of hair revealed its one eye and mouth. Then it made a 180 degrees turn and showed off the other side of its head, which had another eye and a nose. The baby in its arms screamed louder as you tried not to panic. You gripped the sword tightly in your hands, afraid that it’ll slip out of your clutch when moment you loosen your fingers. “Let that baby go and I’ll let you go.”

The demon laugh, its shrill laughter carried by the wind. “You think you’re in any position to threaten me, y/n?” Your eyes almost buldged out from your head and you freaked out internally. It should be impossible for it to know your name. “My, my, how you have grown. I wouldn’t have recognised you if you hadn’t have that same stupid scared look you wore on your face. Whatever happened to your elegant manners I’ve taught you to follow since you were a child? It’ll be a waste of my time if you hadn’t followed them, wouldn’t it? Also, are you impressed by my skills? That was a venomous spit that can make you go blind.”

Shit, and you caught two eyefuls of the venom, but that isn’t the worst issue at hand right now. “How- how-?” You trembled, coming to terms that the demon in front of you was your stepmother. You recognised the voice now. “Where’s your son?”

That was clearly the wrong question to ask. The demon glared at you and you heard it inch closer, causing you to back away. “The audacity.” You heard her hissed. “They took him to the red district as a slave after you wouldn’t give yourself up. Wanted to kill me too, but I got away. Oh yes, I did, but I couldn’t save my poor baby. All alone at a strange place, poor boy must be scared out of his wits. That’s why I need to become a stronger demon, y/n, he told me I need to eat humans, only then I can save my own baby. Now if you’ll excuse me.” As she spoke, the size of her mouth grew bigger and got closer to the baby’s head, preparing to eat it. 

‘Sixth form, Black Wind Mountain Mist.’

You forced yourself to move, but only aimed to slice off the top half of her head. You hadn’t dared to make any big movements because you didn’t want to hurt the baby accidentally. The attack caused the demon to scream in anguish and its hands went to its head in pain after dropping the baby. You dived forward and managed to catch it just seconds before the baby falls on the ground. You held the baby close to your nose and sniffed for blood, but could smell nothing and sighed in relief. You were at a disadvantage now and knew you have to leave quickly, you could try fending yourself against the demon with a child in hand and a pair of blind eyes, but didn’t want to risk accidentally leaving an open gap for the demon the snatch the baby back.

“How dare you! How dare you! How dare you! How dare you!” The demon screamed and kicked your face, causing you to fly towards the opposite direction. Your breath got knocked out of your body when your back crashed against the tree trunk. The demon extended its long arms towards you, aiming to wrap them around your neck, but you easily deflected and sliced them off when you felt the change of the wind. “Give the baby back to me, you useless wretch! Or I’ll eat you too!” The demon threatened. 

But you were off before the demon could finish her sentence, running as fast as you could and depending on your memory of what the forest is like. However, you felt that you were just running around in circles with the demon on your trail and it was difficult to pinpoint her exact location or tell where you were exactly when you have a screaming infant in a hand. There was no way you could hide either since the baby just wouldn’t stop crying and that would certainly give your location away. Honestly, the infant was giving you more anxiety than the demon because you were certain you weren’t holding him properly. You knew that you have to hold them by their necks and that they shouldn’t be shaken around too much in case they’ll get a head trauma. You have already been slowing down your speed in running to try to protect him from as much harm as possible, but you still couldn’t help but think that you were harming him in some way. Should you just stop and attempt to fight the demon instead? If you leave the baby on the ground unattended, what are the chances of him getting snatched and devoured straight away? Damn it, if only you have your sight, things would be a hell lot easier.

Suddenly you heard a caw from above you, “Go left!”

Without hesitation, you listened to Sourai’s instructions and ran in that direction, grateful that the crow has managed to find you. It could only mean two things, either Sanemi isn’t too far away or he sent Sourai to come and check on you, hopefully it’s the latter because you didn’t want him to catch you being chased by a demon. He’ll likely go beserk because you didn’t keep to your word of running and hiding. Sourai did a splendid job in guiding you out of the forest, shouting directions at you and warnings of any tree roots or holes you came across. You knew you were heading towards the open space in the middle of the forest when you felt the air become crisp. You could practically feel the demon’s arms around your neck and decided to use the first form of wind breathing to slow it down and to put some distance between yourself and it. The demon’s painful screech told you you hit your mark and you were growing more confident that you’ll be able to hold your own. 

“y/n!”

You swore you could burst out in tears of happiness when you heard Sanemi yelling your name. He was running towards you from the other direction and his eyes widened when he saw the ugly demon chasing after you with its arms stretched. After the attack, you made a hasty decision to throw Sanemi’s nichirin sword at him in hopes that he would catch it and slice off the demon’s head. You have no idea if it had generated since you were blinded and didn’t want to risk getting too close to it again. To stay out of Sanemi’s way, you dived and hide behind a nearby boulder, holding the baby tightly against your chest. Sanemi caught his sword in mid air and just as he was about to go after it to finish it off, the demon’s head fell off its shoulders and its body crumbled onto the ground. Leaving it to turn to dust, Sanemi approached you. When you heard him coming over, you panicked and wanted to distract his attention away from your eyes. Your eyes felt like they were on fire or were being gauged out of their sockets and whenever you produced tears, the pain intensified. You thrust the crying child into his arms before he could protest. Having to have cared for his younger siblings when they were babies before, Sanemi automatically started to coax the baby. You listened in wonder as his crying ceased.

“He’s asleep.” Sanemi told you, moving to show you the sleeping baby. He thought you would squeal about how adorable the baby is, but was taken aback when he heard your unfriendly tone.

“Return the kid to his parents first, I’m sick of hearing him cry.” You told Sanemi before promptly standing up and making your way to the nearby pond, trying to hold yourself together. Maybe the demon was lying about the venom, it should be impossible that its mere spit would blind you. Judging by how inexperienced it was in both combat and hunting its victims, your stepmother may be relatively new to the demon world. It shouldn’t be possible for her to develop her blood demon art… right?

Sanemi grabbed your arm before you could get far. He was frowning at you and tried to get a good look at your face. “What’s wrong with you?”

You tried shaking your arm off, not liking his tone at all. “Nothing! Just go and give the baby back already.”

Sanemi’s grip tighten instead. “What are those black stains on your sleeves?”

“It’s the demon’s stuff. I don’t know for sure.” A second’s delay of your journey to the nearest water source is a second more closer for the demon’s words of blinding you to come true. “I said let me go!” You aimed a kick at his foot. Not anticipating your attack, Sanemi didn’t dodge in time and got struck by your kick, causing him to let you go in surprise. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from yelping in pain, feeling certain that you must have kicked a nearby rock instead of him. Not waiting to explain your situation to him, you ran further into the forest for a pond. You have to hurry now.

“Tch.” Sanemi swore he would hit you on the head if you hadn’t gotten away. Deciding to return the baby to his parents first, he went the other way. He cooed and pat the baby’s chest rhythmically when the baby had woken up halfway. ‘Such a feeble being.’ He thought as the baby played with his fingers and eventually held onto his pinky tightly. He paused, letting the foreign and yet familiar feeling overwhelm him. The moment was lost when he heard a woman wailing and a man shouting threats at a nonexistent demon not too far away. “You’re lucky y/n saved you, you know. That must be your parents.” Sanemi told the baby, letting him suck on his finger as he made his way towards the baby’s parents. 

Sourai, on the other hand, had followed you, knowing that his master would send him to search for you once he had handed the baby over, might as well do the job first and report back to him later. He perched himself on a tree branch and watched you as you washed your eyes and got rid of the remaining spit from your face. However, the gentle repetitive movements soon turned into furious and then desperate ones that resulted in you driving violent blows to the sides of your head. The crow was alarmed and flew closer to you to check on you. You shrieked when you felt something tickled your hand but calmed down once you heard it was Sourai. 

“What’s the matter?” The crow asked you gently. You were taken aback by his tone, for you never heard him spoke in that manner before. Desperate for comfort, you reached for the crow and hugged him, sobbing into his feathers. 

“Sourai, I can’t see! I really can’t see anything! Everything’s black.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re looking at my feathers and wiping your tears with them?”

“Sourai! I’m not kidding! I’m fucking blind!”

“Sorry,” You felt the crow’s wing mimicking a pat on your head. “I didn’t see your confrontation with the demon, only saw it chasing after you and you getting lost in the woods.” Sourai paused and spoke quietly. “You already lost your sight then, haven’t you?”

“Mh-hm.” You hicupped. “I still want to see, Sourai. I’m still so young, I can’t be blind. If I can’t see anything, I wouldn’t be able to train for the final selection and Sanemi wouldn’t want me as his tsugoku if I applied for it.”

“There is the rock pillar who’s blind. Maybe you can be like him.” Sourai told you, finally having enough of the close approximation and hopping out of your embrace. But that only made your wail louder. “Don’t panic. I’ll fly to the Insect pillar and see if she has a cure. Can you tell me the gist of your condition?”

“My eyes burned when the demon’s black spit landed in them. Even now they’re still burning, but it doesn’t hurt as much as before. Tears make the pain worse.” You wondered if it was because you were getting used to the pain and wished you were able to shut your eyes quicker. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this pathetic state if you just reacted faster.

Sourai nodded even though you couldn’t see him, “Master will be coming soon, don’t go anywhere.” 

“Wait! Don’t tell him anything, Sourai! Please!” 

You heard the flapping of his wings that indicated that he flew off. He’ll probably report to Sanemi about your whereabouts before setting off to find Shinobu. Hopefully she has a cure to get your sight back. You took off your shoes and dipped your feet into the cooling water, getting lost in your thoughts. If your stepmother was just a new demon or was new to her demon art, is it possible for the venom to only last a couple of hours or days? If she blinded her victims before eating them, she herself wouldn’t know if the venom would wear off. 

“That was pretty reckless of you.” The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you heard Sanemi speak from behind you. You listened closely as he sat down on the empty spot next to you. Sanemi noticed your tensed shoulders and thought you were bracing yourself for a lecture from him. Deciding to take it easy on you, he patted your head instead. “Maybe I should have let you go to the final selection a long time ago..”

You snapped your head up in his direction, momentarily forgetting to hide your eyes. You just hoped your eyeballs didn’t change colour to indicate you’ve lost your vision. “I killed it? But I threw your sword at you for you to finish the job.”

“The demon’s head fell off before I could do anything. You used the first form and killed it.” Sanemi paused. “Good jon, y/n.”

However, you gave a deep sigh and laid on the ground instead, keeping your eyes open and making Sanemi think that you were looking at the sky. If you weren’t blinded, you would have been over the moon to hear Sanemi giving you the green light to attend the final selection. “I’ll consider it, thanks Sensei.”

“Consider it?” Sanemi echoed after your words. He was finding it difficult to comprehend the way you acted. Weren’t you the one who was always eager to get his approval to go to the final selection? It was your first time encountering a demon after all, perhaps you were still in a state of shock and was still trying to process things. He’ll let it slide for now and give you a few days to calm down before asking you again. “Come on, let’s go home.” He held a hand out to you for you to help you on your feet, but his smile faltered when you stood up by yourself. On the way to Sanemi’s house, you could barely concentrate on the conversation he was trying to make with you, for you were too busy listening for his footsteps and to keep up with his strides. Not to mention you have to notice the change of the wind to avoid walking into trees or bushes. Avoiding the roots and holes in the forest was the most difficult part and you have to be careful to walk behind Sanemi without him growing suspicious. However, he would always slow down and walk next to you when he noticed you were falling behind, fueling your anxiety further. 

Sanemi left you to go freshen up and take a shower once you were home. While waiting in the corridors for you to be done, Sourai came back with a pouch attached to his leg. The crow was spotted by Sanemi first and he had no choice but to land next to his master. 

“Another medicine from Kochou?” Sanemi asked. “I told you I don’t need more, Sourai. My fever’s gone.”

Sourai hopped away from Sanemi’s outstretched hand. “It’s not for you, master.” 

“For y/n? I didn’t smell any blood on her.” Sanemi frowned. He caught the look on the crow’s face and his frown grew deeper. “Sourai.” He called the crow’s name sternly. Giving in, the crow told Sanemi everything he knew and let Sanemi untie the pouch from his foot when he was dismissed by the pillar. 

Back in the room you and Sanemi shared, you were staring hard at a candle, trying to see if you could spot the tiniest of a flame. However, everything was still pitch black for you. “Sourai, should be back from Shinobu’s by now…” You mumbled, wondering what’s taking the crow so long. 

You sat up straighter when you heard the door being slid open, followed by Sanemi’s footsteps. “Hi, Nemi. How’s your fever?” You acted everything was normal and smiled in the direction where you last heard him walking. Little did you know Sanemi had purposely walked louder for you to hear and he changed his position after leading you to believe he was on your left.

“Gone.” He said gruffly as he approached you. “Why are you so close to the candle? Are you cold?”

“A little bit.” You lied. You squeaked when he hoisted you into his lap, feeling his warmth embracing you. You were blushing hard and thought you probably wouldn’t notice if the candle burned you right now. Sanemi wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. You leaned into him to enjoy the affection.

“Better?”

“Yea-yeah.” You tried not to stutter. 

“Comfy?”

You hid your face behind your hands and quietly answered him, “Yes.”

“Good.” He hummed. “Means you can tell me what happened between you and the demon.” Sanemi felt your body stiffen and held onto you tighter when you shifted in your position. You groaned, realising that you had fallen into his trap and that there was no escaping from him.

“I was coming back when I heard the mother crying about losing her baby to the demon, so I decided to track the demon down. I tried ambushing it from its behind, but I think it has eyes on the back of its head as well. The demon recognised me and it took me a while to realise it was my stepmother. While she was talking about how she wanted to get stronger and to rescue her son from the red district, I snatched the baby and just started running, but I couldn’t go very fast because I was holding the child.” You paused. “Did you manage to find his parents? I didn’t hurt him right?”

“He was fine, just tired and scared from the whole thing.” Sanemi told you. “You weren’t hurt from the fight?”

“Well, you don’t see any scratches or blood on me, do you?” You chuckled but swore you could feel his warning glare at the back of your head.

“The truth, y/n.” You remained quiet after he said that and it frustrated him further. “Do I need to strip you down and check?”

You gasped and slapped his arm. “Fuck no, you stupid perv, get away from me!” 

Sanemi was reaching to undo the button starting at the bottom of your shirt. He wasn’t actually going to do it, but you didn’t know that he gets flustered easily. “Don’t make my hands wander, y/n.”

You squealed and held onto his hands tightly to stop them from moving. “Ok fine! There may be some bruises on my face and back! The demon kicked me in the face and I collided against a tree. Wait, wait, wait, I told you about my bruises!” Your breath hitch in your throat when Sanemi tugs roughly at the last button of your shirt. 

“You know there’s one particular thing that I hate the most, right y/n? Mind telling me what it is?”

“Demons?” You literally couldn’t think of any other answers. 

“Liars. And right now, y/n, you’re one big fucking liar yourself.” He didn’t allow you room to interrupt. “I caught Sourai when he came back from Kocho’s, mind telling me what the medicine’s for? Or do I have to force it out of you again?”

You whimpered, feeling your hand turning clammy. “The demon spat some venom that burned my eyes. She said that it will blind me.” You bit your lip nervously and trembled in his hold. “Don’t blame Sourai, I told him not to tell you anything.”

Sanemi was trying to contain his rage. “Why the fuck would you hide something this crucial from me? Do you not trust me or something?”

“It’s not that!” You started crying. “I wanted for you to consider my application as your tsuguko when I apply! I- I just didn’t want to let you down after all the training you’ve given me. I’m sorry! I’m sorry for wasting your time! I’m sorry if I disappointed you and caused you trouble! I’m sorry!”

Sanemi carefully wiped away the tears that slid down your cheek. “Hey, calm down. You’re never a waste of time or a disappointment. Not to me.”

“But you always said that I’m shit in fighting.”

“Only cause I’m a strict teacher and you don’t apply what you were taught, but when you fought against the demon earlier, you used wind breathing and killed it, didn’t you? That’s a great start.” He smiled at you even though you couldn’t see it.

"To what? Everything fell apart before something could begin." You replied bitterly. "I won't be like the rock pillar, I can never become an actual slayer."

"Don't be pessimistic, let's see what Kochou has for you first."

You wanted to feel better after hearing his words, but couldn't even bring yourself to force a smile.

Sanemi reached for the pouch Shinobu had given to you and poured the content into his hand. There was a piece of paper with a short note on it. He squinted his eyes and brought the paper closer to the candle to read it properly. Kocho has given you some pain-relief cream for your eyes, but unfortunately has no cure for the venom. He figured that would be the case and tossed the paper aside. You heard him popping something open and wondered what he was doing, but before you could ask, Sanemi started to smear something cooling around your eyes and the pain you felt was gradually lifted. He even dabbed some of the cream on the spot of your face where the demon had kicked you. As a deep sigh slipped past your lips, you relaxed and took note about how effective the cream was to pain. Sanemi carefully checked your limbs for any bruises, but could spot nothing. 

“Which part of your back feels painful?” He asks you, his cheeks flushing red. You pointed to your lower back and reached over for the container, thinking he’ll let you attend to you wound yourself. “I’ll do your back for you, just go lie down.” 

“Pardon?” You said dumbfounded, thinking you misheard him.

“You’re not deaf, y/n, you heard me.” Sanemi glared at you, not wanting to repeat his words. 

You hesitated before agreeing. “You can’t look, okay? Turn back around only when I call you.”

“I won’t look! I’m not a pervert!” Sanemi yelled at you, his face becoming as red as a tomato. You heard him shift in his position and went to lie down in your futon. Self-conscious, you pulled the blanket over yourself and stripped off your top. Then you laid down on your stomach for a whole five minutes before deciding to call Sanemi over. Sanemi didn’t question why you were hidden under the blanket and pulled it off you once he came closer. You felt goosebumps all over your skin and was thankful that you had the brains to hide your entire head underneath your pillow, hands gripping against the corners tightly and feeling your entire body growing hot under his gaze. You barely even felt him putting the cream on you. Sanemi, on the other hand, was glad that you didn’t attempt to make small talk with him while he was doing your back, knowing well that he will keep stuttering and give his nervousness away. Dark purple and blue bruises were around the lower half of your spine and he wondered how much pain you were in as you didn’t loosen your tight grip on your pillow. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but it didn’t seem to help. Under the candlelight, he could see the long red scars that were left on your back after your father’s whips and lightly traced his fingers along them. You shifted in your futon and tried to hold in your giggle. 

“You’re ticklish?” He asked you.

“A bit.” You admitted, giggling slightly. “What were you touching? I don’t think I got injured there, Sanemi.”

“Nothing, just your scars. It must have hurt.” He said sympathetically. 

“I didn’t get whipped on my back that often, you should see the ones on my stomach. Those were horrible, I can’t even look at myself in front of the mirror without covering them up. Oh wait,” You laughed, “It’s not like I’ll get to see them ever again.”

“Can I see them?” He asked you, his voice almost inaudible.

“They don’t look like yours though, head’s up.” You said, but were already turning around to lay on your side. You couldn’t lie on your back cause the bruises were starting to hurt and you didn’t want to put pressure on them. You continued to hug the pillow and covered your face and chest with it, only exposing the skin of your stomach to him. Bumpy, red scars covered almost the whole of your stomach, causing Sanemi’s eyes to widen when he sees them. He had always thought your scars would look like his faded ones. You curled yourself up in a fetal position to block his view a few seconds later, not wanting him to look at them anymore. Even though you may have physically healed, but the ghosts of pain still lingered whenever you touched or thought of them. 

“Why are you hiding?”

“I don’t want you to look at them. At least yours are cool.”

“I don’t think they’re ugly.”

You gasped when he laid down next to you and pulled you into his embrace, relaxing into him when he started stroking your hair. “You mean it?”

“When have I ever lied to you, y/n?”

“Never.”

When Sanemi felt your skin turning cold, he pulled the blanket over the both of you and made you hug your pillow against your chest, chuckling when he saw how red your face was as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. You were glad that you had something sandwiched between the both of you and weren’t touching each other directly. You felt that his gaze was on you and tried to hide your face into your pillow again, but before you could move, you felt his fingers under your chin and lifting your face up. Warm lips covered yours and you grabbed his hand that was touching your cheek, returning the gesture with a blush. Both of you barely exchanged words for the rest of the night, feeling each other’s hands wandering all over your exposed skins and enjoying each other’s warmth until sleep lured you in. You had your back pressed against Sanemi’s front as your conscious started fading and felt him pressed a kiss on your temple.

“Sleep dreams, y/n. You have me.”

#kny imagines #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny x y/n #kimetsu sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer imagine #kimetsu imagines #demon slayer imagines #sanemi shinazugawa fanfic #sanemi headcanons

[thatbritishactor]

Adventures in Success (part 7)

Adventures in Success (part 7)

Pairing : Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings : None, this chapter’s FLUFFY AF.

Summary: Ben’s agent is retiring and the firm wants you to represent him. It’s going to be hard for you not to mix work with feelings.

Words: 3,000

Type: Slow Burn, Fluff

Part 1   Part 2     Part 3     Part 4    Part 5   Part 6   Part 8

gif by bnbrns

My masterlist

3 months later

Ben’s been back in LA for a few days when he receives a text from you. Ever since your text exchange while you were drunk, the two of you resumed on your usual banter, leaving the unfamiliar politeness behind, much to his relief. It feels like the emotional wall you’ve put up between you and him progressively came crawling down with every text exchange. You are scheduled to meet for dinner tonight, and he can’t wait to see you.

He’s surprised you haven’t contacted him as he received the best news he’s ever gotten in his entire career. He’s been nominated for the Volpi Cup, the award for best actor in the Venice Film Festival, for the Bong Joon Ho movie. When he got the news from the film crew, he almost cried tears of joy. He was incredibly proud, but most importantly, he knew you’d have to drop his contract, as you had agreed. He wondered how you felt about his nomination, and why you hadn’t contacted him right away. Had you found someone else? If so, was it serious? His heart jumped in his chest when he saw your name illuminating his screen. He opened your message eagerly.

You: Hi Ben, I know we were supposed to meet today for dinner, but I got the flu and i’ve been stuck home for the last two days. I’m still feverish and I can’t make it out I’m so sorry… :(

So, that was why you hadn’t contacted him. Selfishly, he preferred to know that you were stuck home with the flu than in the arms of another guy. He writes back to you:

Ben: I can come over and bring some soup, herbal tea and flu medicine :)

You: absolutely not Ben, I’d never forgive myself if you got the flu because of me.

He raises his eyebrows as he reads your message. He won’t let you get away with this.

Ben: I’m immune to the flu :) plus I have some verrry important news and I NEED to see you.

You: I cant let you see me this way :( I haven’t showered in two days and I look like shit.

Ben: I don’t care. I’m coming.

You: Fine, you’re the f***** worst.

Ben: see you in an hour :)

Ben can’t stop smiling as he gets in his car to go to the grocery store, he’s so gleeful he could break into a song and start dancing in the street.

* * * * * * * * *

He knocks on your door, familiar with your place as he’s already been here a few times, for movie nights mostly. He’s even slept on your convertible couch after some nights where the two of you drank too much. You open slightly the door and he catches a glimpse of your face.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you came” you sigh as you turn over and leave the door open. He laughs loudly.

“That’s no way to greet me after a six months separation” he protests.

He smiles widely when he notices that you’re wearing a blanket around your shoulders, sweat pants and fuzzy socks. You’re walking awkwardly around your living room, looking exhausted. Your hair his wet so you’ve definitely taken a shower before he arrived. You look pale, your nose is red, you have dark circles under your eyes. You definitely look sick, but still cute, he thinks to himself. He sets the grocery bag on the table while you sit on your couch, staring at nothing.

“So, I took some chicken soup” he announces “some herbal tea, honey for your throat, your favorite ice cream and some ibuprofen”. He looks back at you, you’re wiping your nose with a tissue. You look so precious, he wants to hold you close and kiss you. He resists the urge and sets the items on your living room table, before making a trip to your kitchen to set the ice cream in the freezer.

“Thank you, Ben, that’s so kind of you” you reply weakly when he enters the living room. “I think my temperature’s rising again, I don’t feel too good” you add in a weak voice. He comes to sit next to you on the couch and presses a hand to your forehead. It’s clammy and hot, you’re burning up.

“Yep, feels like you’re having a fever” he states “I’ll get you some ibuprofen” he says, getting back up and heading to your kitchen to get a glass of water. He comes back a few seconds later and you’re lying on your side, your legs pressed to your chest, softly whining.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he says in a smooth voice. He crouches next to you and hands you the pill and the glass of water. You stare at him with glassy eyes.

“I can’t believe you came” you say, repeating the first words you’ve uttered to him when he got here.

“I told you, I have some important news to tell you” he says, smiling.

“But you’re seeing me like this” you whine, gesturing towards yourself. “I look like a monster” you say, closing your eyes.

“That’s not true, you look sick” he protests “You still look pretty and cute, don’t worry”, he adds with a grin. You hide your face in a cushion, not replying.

“Come on, take the pill” he says patiently. You open your eyes again and slowly sit.

“Thank you” you whisper, your hands trembling a bit.

“Do you want to eat something?” he asks, concerned.

You nod to say no “I’m not hungry” you say, wincing.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You look away, thinking, scrunching your nose a bit. God you’re cute, he thinks, having to resist the urge to kiss you again.

“I don’t really remember” you reply “The fever’s making the last few days blurry” you add, scrubbing your eyes.

“I’m gonna get you some soup” he says, and he goes to the kitchen to get you a spoon.  He puts the kettle on to make you some tea as well, because he wouldn’t be a true British person of he didn’t.

“It’s still warm” he says, coming back in the living room. You nod as you patiently wait for him to bring you the soup, and sigh when he gives you the warm bowl.

“So, what’s the big news?” you ask.

“It can wait.” Ben answers, rubbing your arm to warm you up, seeing you shivering.

“But you came for that” you protest, drinking your soup.

“I came to see you” he replies, smiling softly.

You nod your head, closing your eyes “This is so good” you say.

“I’m glad you like it” he replies, getting comfortable on the couch. “Do you want to watch something?” he asks, gesturing towards your TV. “A comforting movie, perhaps?”

You look at him, smiling softly “Yeah, I could watch something” you say “I’ve spent the last two days in bed” you add.

“What do you want to watch?” he asks, looking intently at you. Even when you’re sick, you still have the same effect on him. His chest feels a bit tight and he desperately wants to touch you. You think for a few seconds before smiling slowly, your eyes looking heavy. You look so tired and weak, it breaks his heart “Princess Bride” you reply, looking content.

He laughs “Princess Bride it is!” he replies as he turns the TV on. He goes back to the kitchen to fetch you your tea, adding a generous amount of honey to soothe your throat. He comes back in the room and you’re standing next to the sofa.

“Could you unfold the couch?” you ask weakly, looking up at him. “I want to fall asleep in front of the film” you add.

He has the resist the urge to cup your face with both of his hands and kiss you. “Of course” he replies, happy to feel useful to you. He expertly unfolds the sofa, and you climb on it right away, still wrapped in your blanket. He lies down next to you and launches the movie. He feels genuinely content in this moment, thinking that there’s no place where he’d rather be, because he’s with you. He thinks to himself that he simply needs your company to feel whole and happy, and he realizes, for the hundredth time, how serious his feelings are for you. He glances at you and sees that you’re shivering.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m so cold” you reply, hugging yourself.

“I’ll get another blanket” he replies, and you reach for his arm before he gets up.

“Can you hold me?” you ask, looking at him. His heart explodes with joy in his chest and he tries to control his facial expression.

“Of course” he replies softly with an even voice, and he’s impressed with himself. He slides closer to you on the sofa and opens his arms, and you snuggle against him, sighing, seeming satisfied.

“You smell so good” you say after a few seconds.

He laughs. Why do you need to be in an altered state to say these things to him? Drunk or feverish? What stops you from saying how you feel? Why do you have to control yourself this much? he thinks bitterly.

“Thank you” he replies, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” you ask, your eyes closed. You seem like you’re slowly falling asleep.

“What do you mean?” he asks, still half laughing.

“You’re smart, kind, funny, unbearably handsome.” you reply, yawning, before snuggling your face against his chest.

“You’re not so bad yourself” he replies softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m not good enough for you” you reply, and your eyes are closed, your expression relaxed.

“What? That’s nonsense” he replies, frowning and aghast.

“Hmmmm...” you reply, your head falling a bit, and he understands that you’ve fallen asleep now. He looks back at the TV, distracted. Is that why you won’t date him? Using the excuse of being his agent? Because you’re insecure? He frowns as he ponders on this, still holding you against him. Your breathing is even and your face relaxed, and he feels happy and privileged to see you this way, unguarded and natural. He falls asleep before the movie ends, sill suffering from jet lag.

* * * * * * * * * *

You open your eyes, waking from the fever dream you were just having. You feel sweaty and cold, coming down from your fever. You look around you and find Ben lying next to you, asleep. You stare at his beautiful face for a few seconds, lit by the glowing screen of the TV. You usually can’t stare at him as much as you want to, so you indulge fully. You look at his eyes, his long lashes, the beauty spot you love so much. His nose, his mouth, his beard. His cheekbones, the soft curve of his lips. You heart aches in your chest, you find him so beautiful it almost makes you want to weep.

You close your eyes and sigh deeply, and decide to get up and take a shower to clean the sweat off yourself. You get up slowly, in order not to wake him up, and head to your bedroom. You set out a clean set of pajamas (the good fancy ones, because Ben’s here after all, and you’ll definitely look better in them than in your old sweat pants) and hop in the shower, happy to feel the warmth of the water on your skin. You close your eyes and try to focus to analyze the situation. It’s hard because you’re still feverish, and you feel groggy.

He’s here, you think to yourself, in awe. He came, only to take care of you. You shake your head as you realize how much he must care about you to have come all the way here. He could be anywhere, with anyone, and yet he decided to come to you. You nod your head as you take in the realization and try to calm your nerves. Once you’re done cleaning yourself, you step out of the shower, fold yourself into a towel and go brush your teeth, wanting to feel clean and fresh. You stare at your own reflection, unimpressed. What does he see in you? You simply don’t understand. He could have any woman, any beautiful actress in the industry, any gorgeous model, why does he waste his time with you? You shake your head, unable to comprehend what he sees in you. You step into your bedroom, put on a clean set of underwear before putting on your Pjs.

You tip toe in the living room again and turn off the TV screen. Ben shuffles in his sleep, sighing, and you lie down next to him. You could go back to your bed, but you can’t resist being so close to him. You’ve missed him so much these last few months, and your feelings for him are so strong. You reach for his hand and grab it softly, wanting to have a physical contact with him. He wakes up at the contact and your heart drops in your chest. He opens lazily his eyes, and they seem completely black in the dark.

“Hey” he whispers, smiling softly. “Feeling better?”

“A bit” you sigh back, your chest feeling horribly tight. You could kiss him, right here, right now. Nothing can stop you, except yourself.

“C’me here” he says, and he opens his arms. You don’t hesitate for a second, turning your back on him and snuggling close to him. He spoons you, holding you close, his arms around you. You close your eyes, thinking you’ve never been this happy before, and quickly fall asleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

You wake up to the smell of pancakes and sigh happily. You stretch on the couch and slowly open your eyes, trying to assess how you feel. You’re still a bit sore and your throat hurts, but you don’t feel feverish anymore. You look around you and Ben’s woken up, probably in the kitchen judging by the sounds coming from it. You quickly get up, panicked, and run to your bathroom. You assess the mess as you stare at yourself in the mirror, and decide to brush your teeth first. You brush your hair, put fresh water on your face and breathe evenly to calm yourself. You’re not thrilled by the way you look, but at least you look a little more human. You tip toe to the kitchen and you hear Ben singing, bringing a bright smile to your face.

You enter and he’s cooking pancakes, and you think to yourself that the man has no mercy for you. First, coming to take care of you while you’re sick, secondly, making you pancakes in the morning. How is he even real? You ask yourself. He spots you and stops singing:

“Morning sunshine, how are you feeling?” he asks, grinning.

“A little better, thank you”, you reply as you take a sit on the counter.

“Ahhh, finally some good news”, he says, grinning. How does he look so good? You ask yourself. The man’s slept in his clothes, hasn’t taken a shower yet and he looks like the most beautiful person in the world. You grind your teeth, annoyed by him.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask, blushing.

“Never better” he winks, and you blush even more.

“So, what about these big news you wanted to tell me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He slides a plate with pancakes and a cup of tea towards you, and you grab it eagerly.

“Well, I guess you haven’t heard since you were stuck in here with a fever” he starts, and he looks intently at you. “I’ve been nominated for best actor at the Venice Film Festival” he announces.

You choke on your tea and slide off the counter “Oh my God, Ben!!” you yell, and you jump at his neck to hug him, screaming with joy. He laughs as he catches you, and the two of you stand here for a while, hugging. Your breathing slows a bit and you step back “Congratulations” you say, looking up at his face, and the expression on his face makes you weak in the knees. There is tenderness, and a hunger, a want that makes you quiver.

“Thank you” he replies “I’d never had gotten there without you” he says as he puts a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You blush and turn over to grab your tea, before facing him again.

“I have something to ask you” he says, “a favor”.

“Anything, Ben” you say, smiling.

“By my guest at the film festival” he asks. “Come with me, please.”

You stop smiling and you feel sudden dread.

“Ben, I could neve-”

“I don’t want anyone else but you” he cuts you off “by my side, on this day. Please” he begs, and you get lost in his charcoal eyes, unable to resist him.

“Fine”, you sigh, and he grins widely.

“Thank you” he replies “I’ll send you the details” he winks, quoting back to you one of your favorite expressions. You blush again, feeling self conscious.

“I have to go” he says, “I’ll talk to you soon?” he adds, seeming hopeful.

“All right” you reply, still feeling weak in the knees. He steps closer to you, and he gently cups your face with both hands, before placing a light kiss on your forehead. He releases you and grabs his jacket. “Have a nice day” he says, winking, before leaving the kitchen.

You stare into the void as you hear your front door slamming, unable to process what just happened.

Part 8

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#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #billy russo x reader #adventures in success #my fics #fanfic

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.  

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.  

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.  

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.  

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.  

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.  

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers. 

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.  

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.  

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.  

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.  

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.  

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.  

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.  

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.  

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.  

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.  

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.  

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.  

He froze.  

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.  

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.  

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.  

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.  

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.  

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly. 

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”  

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.  

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.  

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.  

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.  

It was bullshit.  

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.  

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.  

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.  

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.  

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.  

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.  

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.  

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.  

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.  

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.  

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.  

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.  

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.  

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.  

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.  

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.  

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.  

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.  

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.  

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.  

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”  

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.  

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.  

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.  

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.  

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.  

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.  

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.  

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.  

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[slutforben]

creepypasta scent headcanons

warning: they're stinky.

im kidding i love them too much to make them stinky little assholes these characters literally raised me throughout elementary and middle school

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jeff: okay ive said this before but jeff doesn't smell that bad. maybe a little bit of body odor and cigarettes but other than that he keeps up with smelling good. he's got a strong rose shampoo and bath and body works is his shit. he smothers himself in lotion after his two hour long shower. he's a man with a mission; he just wants to smell good.

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ben: honestly ben probably doesn't smell that bad either. you know that smell when to just wake up and you can like smell your body and hair but not any body odor? that's what he smells like; just human body and hair. that, as well as a mix of different body odors, probably more masculine ones but there's some feminine ones in the mix. also it smells like rain. the good rain too not the gross warm rain smell; he smells like cool, fresh rain.

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toby: toby smells good! he puts a lot of effort into smelling good cause he hates smelling like sweat and grossness from his work. he has a routine he does everyday and night that consists of lotions, body scrubs, perfumes, room sprays, hair sprays; literally anything that'll just make him smell good. he just smells expensive. and like fall scents; you know like apple, pumpkin spice, fresh baked bread, stuff like that. toby smells the best out of anyone.

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slenderman: imagine the dark academia aesthetic and then mix in a little bit of blood and highly toxic chemicals; that's slender's smell. black coffee, an old library, clean cats that just came inside, clean forests; stuff like that. also there's a hint of death on him but that's only if you get too close to him. no one really knows why; maybe is because he's basically a death omen deity thing that lives in the forest and eats people. wonderful.

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masky: masky smells like laundry detergent, cigarettes, and kinda like expense cushions. like high quality cushions in like really really expensive restaurants. he just smells clean mostly but there's a hint of body odor and then an overwhelming wave of cigarettes and massive amounts of regret.

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hoodie: hoodie? okay in my head he smells like nothing; like he's just a plain dude with a totally plain job and life. yeah totally. if i had to assign him a smell it would be fresh water. hoodies kinda boring smell wise but atleast he doesn't stink. maybe he smells a little bit like wood too. yeah probably

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x-virus: cody smells like cleaning chemicals, cinnamon, and this expensive perfume that smells like a rainy night. the smell im imagining reminds of the movie " a nightmare before christmas " if that's makes any sense. kinda... halloweenie... BOO!

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jane: jane spends way too much money on lotions and perfumes and smell-good things; her collection rivals toby's. this woman will literally dedicate an entire paycheck to just candles and perfumes like it's nothing. honestly i see her smelling very floral; maybe rose? not lavender but if i sat next to her, id think rose and sunny day. so just fresh? yeah she smells fresh and floral

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clockwork: in my mind, natalie smells like ash, laundry detergent, earthy scents, and masculine deodorant; she basically just smells like a lumberjack lmao

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nina: i can see nina enjoying really strong fruity and floral scents; like really really strong you'll get a headache if you're around her too long. i imagine her smelling like really strong mango, dry shampoo, peppermint, and any really strong tropical smell.

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sally: sally probably smells fine; i can see her just smelling like any other young girl; cheap body sprays, play-doh, and apple juice; but i also like to imagine her smelling like caramel and a library as well.

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eyeless jack: jack smells very nice and clean; he smells like a mix of cleaning chemicals, cat fur, rainy woods, and coffee. also he sometimes smells like saliva cause he licks himself but that's okay. also his mouth smells like a rotten decaying corpse; don't get too close unless you want your nose to stop working.

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laughing jack: in my opinion jack just smells like peppermint tea, caramel, and cyanide. also his hair is either really greasy and gross or it's clean for once - once in a blue moon this man's gross.

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lost silver: i feel like if i sat down next to silver and smelled him, my nose would get physically cold and start bleeding from the temperature change. idk he just smells cold if that makes sense.

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rex: she smells like a car engine, whiskey, and ash. fuckers been playing around in the woods unsupervised too much; okay but seriously she smells like a middle aged alcoholic but just not as bad. only slightly. like 40% and then 30% is like forest and good food. the other 30% is similar to lost silver; just cold.

#creepypasta #creepypasta blog #slenderman #slenderman headcanons #jeff the killer headcanon #jeff the killer #ben drowned #ticci toby #creepyasta headcanon #ben drowned headcanon #ticci toby headcanon #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanon #jane the killer #jane the killer headcanon #sally williams #sally williams headcanons #clockwork #clockwork headcanons #lost silver #lost silver headcanons #masky #masky headcanons #masky and hoodie #hoodie #hoodie headcanon #nina the killer

[ffxv-chocoheadcanons]

Hiya! I was wondering if I could get some hcs for the bros noticing their s/o being super distant lately and finally confronting them only for their s/o to completely break down sobbing, telling him that they’ve been feeling just really useless and unloved lately. Like how would each chocobro react to this/ comfort them? I hope this makes sense and is and ok request!

AN: This has been sitting for so danm long, and I mean I wanna write again soooo here we go, I hope your okay with me adding and changing a few things cause I am a utter simp for a Polybros and weak for A/B/O so ima add those into this much like other stuff now, so here we are I hope you enjoy! Also side note I wrote this all on my phone, at work so it's a little rushed and all over the place I'm sorry I will try to make them better /o0o\

Word Count: 2,844

Pairing: Chocobros x Omega Reader

Dynamics:

Noctics [Alpha], Gladio [Alpha], Ignis [Alpha], Prompto [Beta] it's a fight between Omega or Beta for Prompto.

Warnings: light omega depression,  slight suggestions of nsfw

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With a yawn Noctis blinked a few times to get the blurriness out of his vision. He was the first one to wake up to his surprise, or well he thought so? Looking around he was in-between Prompto and Ignis, with Gladio behind Prompto. He was warm and content, yet something felt off? Missing? Sitting up a little more he noticed someone was missing. You there omega, rubbing the back of his neck he was puzzled he fell asleep last night with you curled up next to him and prompto… right? Why was there omega gone? How did she wake up and not wake anyone, mostly Gladio but then again. Looking at the Alpha he was drooling some with loud snores he honestly found comforting, that would explain it he was out cold. 

Noctis was thinking, maybe he should get up and look for you, maybe you were already in the kitchen. You kept on how one day you would even beat Ignis to the kitchen and make everyone breakfast. Maybe that's what you were doing. With a yawn Noct started to get tired again from the warmth of his pack before he felt the lull to lay back down and pass out again. 

It was a few hours and Noctis woke up again feeling Ignis move away from him. With a whine he opened his eyes looking out. Ignis yawned but bent back down, placing a kiss on the prince's head seeing him wake. "It's okay...go back to sleep" the Beta whispered to him, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Noct didn't need to be told twice and pass back out. 

Ignis shuffled around the room as quietly as he could, slipping on slippers and a shirt. Stepping out of the room he glanced around the hall before walking to the kitchen. He was glad the king moved them into a larger apartment seeing as Noct formed a pack. He scented the air to try and catch your scent but it puzzled him how faint it was. He noticed you weren't in the bed this morning. "Y/n?" He called softly looking around the kitchen. No coffee, no warm scent, no sweet words or affection. Just a normal empty cold kitchen. Maybe you were in the living room?. Walking around he poked his head around the corner to look into it, nothing. Fixing his glasses he did notice one thing though, the pillows and blankets on the couch were missing. It clicked, you had to be in the nest room. 

Going back to the kitchen he decided he shouldn't bother you if you were, he knew you liked to fix it once in a while, he needed to look at his phone soon and see the calendar, you had a heat coming up soon if he remembers correctly. It didn't take long for everyone else to wake up and shuffle out of the room with the smell of breakfast being cooked. Still one person didn't show up, Gladio stood next to Ignis at the stove leaning back on it as he slowly slipped  his mug filled with coffee. Watched Noct just about drag Prompto to the livingroom to sleep on the couch some more. "Where's y/n?, I didn't see them when I woke up" he mumbled into his cup, turning his gaze back to Ignis. His eyes trailed over the male looking at the darker marks on his neck that Prompto and Noctis left behind the night before. 

Ignis turned his head to glance at the others before he hummed with a puzzled look. "I think they might be in the nesting room the blankets and pillows are gone from the living room" Gladio nods. They all knew better then to knock on that door, recently you have been in there more and more, not to mention last time Noctis wanted to cuddle with you in it you nipped at him with a growl. It was the first time in a while you did that to him. Noctis was so heart broken that day he whined the whole day next to the door apologizing the whole time. "Is there heat coming up?" Gladio asked, reaching for his phone. Lighting up the screen he checked the date, soon his own run would start to rear it's head. This was the only time his Rut lined up with your heat for once, he would have to get to you soon about it to spend some time together, but also with the others not wanting to leave them out of it.

Ignis plated the food for everyone, placing them down on the table. "Prompto dear can you let y/n know breakfast is ready? They should be in the nesting room" Prompto nods, getting up leaving a whiny tired Nocotis on the couch. "Come on princess" Gladio said walking to the couch to mess with Noct. Prompto all but bounced to the room with a small knock on the door. "Y/n? Ignis finished breakfast, if you want I could talk him into letting you have it in here" he said rolling on his heels. It was quiet for a while, no response, no whine or growl, no chip or anything…. Pure silence. Tilting his head to the side he knocked again, his knock still light. "Y/n?" He questioned. Still no response. With a confused frown he took a deep break. "Please don't be mad at me for opening the door but I'm worried" , humbled , pushing the door open. Poking his head inside the nest room held a gloom to it, almost feeling ice cold. "Y/n?" He asked to step inside. The normal mess of the nest was folded neat and missing a few items. The shirts, and jackets all folded as well in a small pile. There rested a note on a plush chocobo Prompto got you he scented for the nest. Picking it up he started to read it before he let out a loud whine and sob. 

The three at the table all froze, leaning to look down the hallway waiting for someone to come out. When no one did and just a small wail from Prompto, Gladio got to his feet followed by Ignis rushing down the hall. Noct was still groggy and confused. Prompto turned his head hearing Gladio push the door open quickly entering. Glancing around he noticed how the normally full, warm room was pale and empty almost. Ignis was quick to Prompto's side, placing a hand on his shoulder taking the paper. Prompto had a death grip on the Plush holding it to his chest, he may have been a Beta but at times they wondered as he did show some Omega traits. Gladio reached out for the sensitive Beta opening his arms letting him bury himself into his body taking in the Alphas scent. 

Ignis skimmed the note quickly and frowned looking over at Gladio. Before reading it out loud. "I'm sorry, I only got in the way, I don't want to intrude anymore. It hurts to leave this, but just know I love you all… y/n '' Ignis was quiet as Noct stepped closer taking the note from his hand looking at it over and over. A low growl came from him deep in his chest as his vision blurred from the tears starting to form in his eyes. No… he couldn't let you go, they needed you… you needed them you were all bonded together. Noctis shoved the paper back to Ignis storming out of the room on the hunt for his phone. Gladio looked at Ignis seeing the heart break in his eyes as he ran his fingers in Prompto's hair as he balled his eyes out whining, his nose buried in the plush. "Ignis…" Gladio said softly. Ignis didn't answer before he nodded already knowing they needed to find you, for your health and there's. 

You stared into the cup on the table with a sniffle. You shivered feeling the painful tug in your chest. Hearing a sigh you glanced to the side at the Alpha that placed his coffee down on the table pulling out a chair to join you. Sitting down he leaned on one of his hands, tired eyes looking you over trying to think of what to say. "You need to at least drink something, '' he said in a calm tone. You lifted your head more, your hair falling in your eyes. You e/c looked dull, with bags under your eyes. Looking at Cor you shook your head. "No…." Cor rubbed his eyes before running it down hisnfave with a huff. "So… you finally going to tell me why you snuck away? You know it's dangerous out at night, let alone you being the Omega in his highness pack" 

Your dull eyes trailed from him to your hands messing with the bracelets you had on your right wrist. Each one made by the guys, your mates. You thought back to last night, it was a night filled with passion, love, sweat and whines. From the loving touches and sweet hands, from how Ignis helped bath you and Prompto with Gladio and Noctis nearby. From how you fell asleep in the cuddle pile, to slipping away and leaving. For the past several months you have felt detached from them. They kept leaving to the citadel for work, but it was their job and what they had to do, the distant feeling of when they came home, to how it felt like they barely talked anymore, or how it felt like they spent more time together without you. You felt like a burden to them, maybe they pitted you, or just wanted to keep you because of your second gender. You wanted to talk to them about it… but you got scared and decided to leave, slip away in the night. Sadly you didn't get far as Cor was checking on the guards and caught you. Seeing him you fell apart and balled into his arms. 

Cor took you to his small apartment not wanting to poke and prod why you looked so upset, and why you were slipping away yet. He wanted to let you calm down before asking all the questions. He knew you had a strong bond with the boys,, and how much they loved you, how much they talked about you or how at times he would pick them up and they smelled heavy of you,, or how they seemed to be on cloud 9 when he stopped by.

Leaning back on the worn chair it creaked from the shift of his weight. "I…" you shook your head before moving a hand to your neck feeling a painful throb on the bonding scars before moving your hand to the other side. You could feel it, with the pack bond and their mate bond the heartbreak. They noticed, you gave a loud whine letting your head rest on the table giving an all chirp and a foul burning rubber scent. "You need them… and they need you" Cor said, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries. Hearing his phone roar to life he glanced at it before pressing the side button to quiet the ringer. "Y/n…" he said softly, leaning on the table taking his hand from your shoulder to yours to get you to look at him. He was quiet already seeing the lost look in your eyes, his distant you looked, how much pain was in your eyes and how you almost seemed to fade. The first onset of an Omega depression. 

He quickly got to his feet moving to pick you up, placing you on the worn couch before grabbing his phone to call Ignis. Listening to the rings he moved around to grab a few blankets he had he placed them on you. Your body was shivering, with the whines and whimpers. Ignis answered quickly with a shaky voice. "Cor, it's y/n, there gone and we can't find them-" "ignis, breath y/n is here at my apartment, I would get here quickly though I think they have a Omega depression onset" in the background he could hear Gladio growl loudly and a whine from prompto. "I tried to get them to explain, but they seemed distant about it, this has to have been on for a few days, just hurry up and get here" 

It didn't take them long to reach Cors apartment almost busting down the door getting inside, lucky cor left it unlocked. He sat in a chair next to the couch watching you to monitor it. Noctis wasted no time pushing past Gladio to get to you, look you over and call your name softly with purrs. 

Cor let Prompto take his place to be near their omega and try to drag them out of it as Gladio joined in. Picking you up he placed you in his lap whispering your name. Ignis stood there almost frozen as Cor came to his side. "Ignis… how long have you guys not noticed this?" He asked. Ignis shook his head. "I...I didn't notice, I didn't even see any change in y/n… we have been at the citadel a lot more, yet Y/n was fine… or well we thought so" he sighed shaking his head he joined the others on the couch resting a hand on the couch cushion by Gladio leaning down to place a kiss to your head and scent you. 

Everything hurt, or well it did hurt. The pain dulled to a small throb in your head. Feeling something pick you up you whined trying to move away, but your body felt like cement. It didn't take long before a familiar scent started to waft into your nose. Taking a deep breath warmed your heart and body. Gladio, one of your Alphas. Struggling to open your eyes you looked around before the blurry image of Gladio turned more crisp and formed. Next to him was Noctis almost curled on his shoulder to look at you whining and puffing out as much of his scent as he could. There was a head in your neck and a wetness, Prompto you could catch his scent right away, above him resting on Gladios head was Ignis looking down at you. 

"Y/n…" Gladio said softly, feeling some tension leave his body. "Dont .... " he couldn't even get the rest of his words out before he crumbled holding you to his body as he buried his face into your neck crying and whining. Your omega kicked into gear hearing the stoic strong Alpha break. It scared you seeing him so broken, "Alpha?" You whispered, nudging him, reaching a heavy hand to his face running along his beard. "No… don't cry" you said softly, your body trying it's best to pump out a calming scent. 

It took some time of cuddles and whines, mixed with scenting before you felt light again. "Y/n… why… why did you leave" Noctis asked, holding your face in his hands. "Not…. Not wanted anymore" you said softly with water eyes. "What… no never we always want you" Noctis said with a determined look on his face. "But…. You're always gone… all of you" Noctis huffed with a glare, but it wasn't for you or your pack mates, it was for the council, the idiots who always called them away from your side, making them stay long hours on end. "I'll rip those damn council jerseys to shreds' ' he snarled. "Dear… we love you more than anything" Ignis said, crouching down. He rested abandoned on you and one in prompto's hair as he held onto your middle face buried in your stomach refusing to move as be whined. 

Noctis was fuming, he was going on and on about talking to his father to set it straight, how he wanted to rip them to shreds for making their omega so upset and going into a depression. His fangs bared and his scent souring. With a whine he turned hisbatrention to you as you reached out for him. All the tension in his body seemed to melt, moving to you to your calming scent. "Alpha…." You whined. "I will have a word with them when we go back" Ignis said, glancing at Cor who shrugged.

 He turned to grab his jacket. "I'm going to be outside the door… just… don't start anything on my couch please I can drive you all back home when you're ready to go" with that he stepped out the door giving you all a moment. With a loud purr you buried yourself in your pack's scents with a small sniffle. "Im… im sorry" nothing more was said as they curled around you bringing you into a cuddle pile smothering you in affection. They would have to deal with the old Council layer, right now they needed to comfort their omega vowing to never let you get this upset again.

#ffxv #ffxv omegaverse #omegaverse x reader #omega reader #Gladio #ffxv gladio #gladiolus amicitia #gladio x reader #gladiolus x reader #noctis #Noctis Lucis Caelum #ffxv noctis #noctis x reader #ffxv ignis #ignis scientia #ignis x reader #Prompto #prompto argentum #ffxv prompto #prompto x reader #cor leonis #Polyship Roadtrip #poly bros #poly roadship #noctis x gladio x ignis x prompto x reader

[glimmerglanger]

If you feel like doing more HotR, could you do a Christmas (or any other family event) scene? I had a thought of Ben having a huge family Christmas for the first time in his life and it made me feel some type of way

Ohhhh, that’s such a cute and sweet idea. I ended up not going for Christmas, because the idea of a Thanksgiving meal occurred to me and wouldn’t let go. This is SO DOMESTIC. Codywan with a lot of family feels.

~~~~~

Ben had tried to cook a meal on Thanksgiving precisely once in his life, while in college and sharing an apartment with Quin. They’d attempted to cook a turkey in their oven, promising to handle the stuffing and potatoes, as well. Luminara and Bant were each supposed to bring other dishes, he could no longer recall exactly what.

None of them had succeeded.

Some of the resulting food had been, at least, edible. Much of it had not.

They’d eaten stale cereal with milk while sitting around and watching a football game, instead.

It was a good memory, in the end. Something they laughed about together. And Ben had never tried to cook anything like that, again. Qui-Gon had never been interested in such things growing up. He said it always ended up being a waste, and that true thankfulness had nothing to do with cooking too much food or overeating.

And so, really, Ben wasn’t expecting anything when he woke up on the last Thursday in November, tucked in close to Cody in the new bed they’d bought a month ago, tired of trying to wedge into Cody’s little twin.

Technically, he mostly noted Thanksgiving because it meant he didn’t have to work and could, allegedly, sleep in. But Cody was always up early. Cattle didn’t take holidays, after all, and Ben was generally up when Cody rose, after sharing a bed with him for a few months, and so he was sitting at the table in the pre-dawn light when Cody put a cup of tea in front of him and said, “Eat a big breakfast this morning, we won’t eat again until late.”

“Hm?” Ben asked, tilting his face up, and got a kiss in answer.

“I’ll be back,” Cody said, brushing a kiss to his forehead, as well, before zipping up his coat and disappearing through the door. “You finish waking up.”

Ben nodded, drank his tea, and pulled out his books to make some headway on his final paper; not due for weeks yet, but it was a huge project. By the time Cody came back, cold clinging to him, he’d gotten most of his work done and grinned, standing to pull Cody into a hug, murmuring, “How about you let me warm you up properly, hm?”

Cody grinned against his mouth, slid his cold hands up under Ben’s shirt, and said, “Later. We’ll warm each other up. Come on, get dressed. We’re about to start the cooking.”

And it was only then that Ben really, truly, recalled that most people around the country did something for the holiday. “Ah,” he said, with a little grimace, thinking about the delicious food that Jango and Val managed to produce on a regular basis, “I really can’t cook.”

Cody snorted, thumbs brushing over his skin, and said, “We know. That’s alright. Anyone can cut up vegetables. Come on.”

Which was how Ben ended up standing in the kitchen in the main house, which had been cleared of all chairs, the counters and table stacked with meat, vegetables, and large metal baskets.

“Here,” Cody said, nudging Ben between Wooley and Echo, “just cut whatever mom tells you to chop. I have to go check the pit.”

“The pit?” Ben asked, but Cody was already heading out the back door. Echo was involved in an animated conversation with Fives, and Wooley was humming along to whatever music playing through his earbuds, and so Ben just shrugged, took the yams he was handed, and started peeling and chopping them.

The parade was playing on repeat in the other room, the television turned so that everyone working around the table could kind of see it, and Ben fell to talking with Boba and Ahsoka - also contributing by chopping vegetables - as Val and Jango did something with what appeared to be a bunch of chicken over by the counters.

It wasn’t until Fox - and Ben had only met the man the night before - brought over a basket lined with aluminum foil and started putting the vegetables in, that Ben thought to ask, “What are we cooking, anyway?”

Fox blinked across at him. Despite having only met in person the previous day, Ben felt like he knew Fox well enough. They’d spoken often throughout his court cases, after all.

“Dinner,” Fox said.

“It’s a hāngi,” Boba said, tossing yams into the basket. “Mom and dad only do them for special occasions. You missed the one in July. Just put the vegetables in, you’ll see, it’s really good.”

And that was that. Ben helped load up the vegetables, and carried one of the baskets out through the back door when instructed, over to what appeared to be a pit, well back from the house.

Cody and Wolf - who had also flown in the night before - were standing over the pit, which was radiating heat, leaning on shovels. A large pile of ash sat to one side, and Cody’s pants were covered with it. Jango and Val reached the pit first, and Ben watched as baskets were lowered in, one after another, meat first followed by the vegetables.

Cody covered the food with blankets before he and Wolf grabbed up their shovels again and started burying the whole thing.

Ben lingered to watch, smiling when Cody finished and stepped over to kiss him sweetly. “Now what?” Ben asked, since he’d just watched them bury dinner.

“Now it cooks for a few hours,” Cody said, nuzzling back against his jaw. Cody no longer felt cold, but he’d been, apparently, standing by a fire pit and doing manual labour. “And then we eat it.”

“No,” Fives said, bounding up and pushing Cody’s shoulders before continuing on, “now we play football.”

Cody rolled his eyes and said, “That, too.” His expression grew more serious as he looked Ben up and down. “You don’t have to play.”

“I think there’ll be an uneven number of players, if I do,” Ben pointed out. It seemed handy, having twelve children if you wanted even teams for sporting events.

“Nah,” Rex said, arriving at a jog, “Ahsoka’s playing, so you have to, otherwise we’re a man down.”

Which was, he supposed, how they all ended up down in the field where Ahsoka still did the dog training classes, though the obstacles had all been cleared away, giving them lots of open space. The brothers agreed, after only a little arguing, that Fox and Wolf should get to be captains, to welcome them home, and the oldest set of twins quickly picked teams.

And Ben only realized that Cody thought he didn’t know how to play when Cody tugged him to one side - they were on the same team, which Boba had thought was hilarious - and said, “Just have fun, alright? We don’t play tackle anymore, and it isn’t a big deal who wins or loses.”

Ben stifled the smile that tried to curl across his lips at Cody - quite possibly one of the most competitive people he’d ever met - claiming that it didn’t matter who won or lost. He just nodded and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And, when he got the ball, two plays into the game, he scrambled back, looked down field, and nailed Crys a few feet away from the line they’d designated the end zone. Crys caught the ball, shouted, laughing, dodged past Ponds, and took the two necessary steps before getting jumped on by half his brothers and buried.

Ben laughed, well back down the field, blood pumping fast with a swell of pleasure, and Cody grabbed him by his shoulders, turning him and pulling him into a kiss. “You!” Cody said, after a beat, pulling away from him. “You can--”

“Throw a football?” Ben suggested, kissing him again, briefly. “Indeed I can. Not as well as I could in highschool, but--”

Cody kissed him again, laughing against his mouth, and only quit when his brothers all gathered around to heckle them, insisting on getting back to the game. They chased one another around the field, grabbing for the rags tucked into belts, tossing the ball around, until Ben felt breathless and delighted, until Jango hollered for them from back towards the house.

Cody took his hand on the way back up the lane and led him around to the back of the house as many of the rest of his brothers flooded inside. Cody, Fox, Wolf, and Rex seemed to be on, well, unburying duty.

Ben watched them work for a moment, turning as Val stepped up to his side, offering him a beer, asking, “Good game?”

“Seemed to be,” Ben said, nodding his thanks and taking a long drink. It was cold, which felt good after all the activity. Despite the chilly temperatures, he was sweating all down his back, even with his coat thrown to one side.

“Good,” she said, and nudged him, “come inside and get cleaned up for dinner. Then you can come back and watch Cody, if you want.”

He snorted a laugh and followed her, scrubbing his hands clean over the kitchen sink, watching Cody through the window over the counter, listening to the family bicker about setting the table behind him and--

Swallowing, thickly, as his throat got tight all at once. He took the opportunity to splash water across his face, drying his skin even as cheers started going up, the brothers outside pulling the first of the baskets from the pit.

Ben shook himself and went to help out, bringing food inside, watching Val and Jango start dividing things up among all the different plates set around. It felt kind of like getting caught in a whirlwind of delicious smells and laughing people, all of it sorting itself out in the end with them clustered around the table, chairs all pressed together, wedged so close that Ben wondered, for a beat, if Cody were about to end up in his lap.

He didn’t, but it was a near thing.

The food smelled delicious, savory aromas filling up the room, chicken and some darker meat on his plate beside sweet potatoes, potatoes, cabbage, and what he thought might be pumpkin. The family talked and yelled and laughed through the meal, and Ben just...absorbed it, sat in the middle of it all and took it in, even as they finished and even as everyone pitched in to clean up.

“You’re quiet,” Cody said, much later, when all the work was done and they were back in their space, Ben toweling off his hair after a shower that he’d desperately needed.

“Mm?” Ben asked, tossing the towel into the hamper and shivering when Cody caught his hips, tugging him over to the bed, pressing a kiss low on his stomach.

“Today too much?” Cody asked, looking up at him, expression concerned, his hair still wet as well, curling up more from the moisture.

“No,” Ben said, leaning into his touch and threading his fingers back through Cody’s hair. He smiled, just a little, feeling his chest aching with an overabundance of contentment. “No,” he repeated, and sighed when Cody kissed his stomach again, “It was just enough.”

#my writing #glimmer replies #ask me anything #home (on the range) #the cowboy au #codywan #DOMESTIC TIME #oh gosh #family bonding