#AND THEN I REALIZED I MERGED THE BACK OF THE N AND THE LOOP ON THE D SO IT SAID CINLER

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (6)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: I’m afraid I have to bring out the big guns for this chapter. So here are all the content warnings for what lies within: lack of agency, torture, blood, injury, violence including brief clinical sexual violence, and finally, medical experimentation.

AO3 Link

Chapter 6: Entwined

You remember falling asleep in Leon’s arms. After tugging you in for a goodnight kiss, he snuggled up against you in bed. Holding you tight, he made you feel protected and warm, like nothing could hurt you. There was a genuine smile on his face, one you hadn’t seen in a very long time, and the steady beating of his heart vibrated against yours, a gentle cadence that lulled you to sleep.

A while later, you stirred. It was cold and drafty, like you had kicked off the blankets and your bare skin was exposed. Goosebumps formed along your body as you shivered, feeling the hard ground beneath you. Where on earth-?

You had to squint when you opened your eyes, as a harsh beam of white light shone directly in your face, like you were in an interrogation room. Raising your palm in front of you to shield yourself from the light source, you slowly started to realize that you were lying on the theater stage, framed by a single spotlight.

Springing upright, you surveyed the area frantically, but there was not a soul in sight. You were alone on stage in a dark, empty auditorium. When you checked yourself, you somehow had your slip and coat on, but nothing else on you. Your feet had been left uncovered, and were looking rather worse for wear.

Was this another one of those weird dreams again? Well, whatever. First things first. Just find the exit and get outta here, you told yourself.

Leaving muddy and bloodied footprints across the floor, you hopped off the stage, wincing in pain as if your feet had been through a shredder. When you made your way past the last row of the stalls before the theater doors, you heard a seat folding back onto itself loudly, like someone had been sitting there all along and left in a hurry. Your eyes darted around the theater, but it was void of any presence. At that moment, a chill ran down your spine. Someone was watching you.

Hastening your steps towards the doors, you swung them open, but ended up in a gloomy hallway, as opposed to the grand foyer you were expecting. What the-

Anxiety was starting to rise within you and beads of cold sweat trickled down your forehead. This wasn’t right. None of this felt right at all. You rushed through the hallway, opening door after door, but each of them brought you into the same loop, like what had happened with Ada before. You stopped, banging your fist against the wall in frustration, as you let out a vexed groan. 

And then you heard it. The faint sound of a child crying which merged into that of a woman laughly wickedly. Your blood reacted instantly to it. It curdled, and under your translucent skin, you saw wispy, black secretions traveling up and down your veins. There was a sinking feeling in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this meant, as you berated yourself for ignoring the signs earlier. You were fucked. So royally fucked.

Even though you tried to run away from the sounds, it felt as though they were getting closer, or perhaps your legs were defying your will, and directing you towards them instead. You noticed the air growing muggier, like when you were in the underground lair with Leon. This whole time, instead of heading for the exit like you had thought, you were being led further down, into the lower levels.

The next room you entered caused you to let out a startled yelp. Bathed in the dusky glow of a candle by a table, Silje was sitting on a luxurious armchair with ornate carvings. Her back was facing you, as she reached out for a glass of red wine. An obsidian puddle lay at her feet simmering like boiling broth.

“Silje?” You called out.

“Yes, dear?” She continued drinking without turning in your direction.

Taking a few tentative steps forward, you asked, “What’s going on? Why am I here?”

Finally, she swiveled her head towards you, flashing a broad smile, teeth stained red from the wine. “Well, because you belong with me, along with the rest.” She gestured to a faraway spot further down the hallway.

“You really are taking to it so well, my child. I am impressed.”

Eyeing your bewildered expression, she explained, “It’s the first time someone’s heard the call from such a distance.”

“What the fuck?” You shook your head, refusing to believe that you had been mind controlled to sleepwalk all the way to the theater. And even so, how had Leon not noticed your movement and absence? 

Glancing between the palms of your hands as if they had been marked with something strange, you exclaimed, “What did you do to me?”

All at once, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you and you collapsed to the ground on all fours, heaving violently. Black bile pumped from your stomach and gushed out of your mouth as if a dam had burst. You retched and wailed in terror at the scene, as Silje glided across the room to you, gently running her fingers through your hair to calm you down.

“Shhh, shhh…” she cooed. “The effects take some time to get used to. And then there won’t be any more pain and suffering. No more hallucinations.” She placed a finger to your lips, drawing figures on your chin with the black substance. “Judging by your blood’s affinity with the mold, it won’t be long before you truly become your own person.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as she confirmed what you had been transformed into. You were now one of those things that the government hunted down, and you watched the life you had dreamed of building with Leon crumble away into nothingness. “Why?” You choked out.

“You accepted the gift. Don’t you remember?” Her tone grew impatient with your questioning. “You and a few dancers, though some reacted badly and failed. You were the best.” She stroked your cheek tenderly. 

“All of you are my children, what I could not have before. Now you and I are of the same blood.” She clasped your hand in hers, squeezing it tightly like both of you had made an unbreakable pact. 

“I raised you and cared for you with everything I could offer. Believe me, this was just a small price to pay so that we could be together and continue what I have created all these years… I won’t have some rogue taking over my legacy!” She sneered at the thought.

You had heard whispers of what would happen when Silje passed on. It seemed as though people in the arts world couldn’t wait for her to go, so they could snatch up whatever they could, taking her work apart piece by piece and claiming it as their own, the minute they got their hands on it. There was even mention of a rival choreographer vying to be the company’s next artistic director. In some way, you understood the sheer desperation that caused Silje to resort to such unscrupulous methods. What they were doing to her was insulting and uncalled for. But like she suggested, everything had its price.

“What price?” You wondered out loud.

“I have the means to fund the research, and in exchange they allowed me a select group to reap the benefits with and call my own.” She pursed her lips, hesitating a little. “They also wanted the ova from those with particularly high affinity.”

“No!” You screeched, your mind was whirling and you expelled even more of the black contents, feeling like your body had been violated unconditionally.

“Oh, my poor-”

You shrank away from her in disgust. “Don’t touch me!” Tears streamed down your face as you wiped your mouth with your hand, retreating until your back was pressed against the wall. “How could you?”

Silje regarded you with a sense of lament, but ultimately mustered her resolve, insisting to you that she had made the right choice. “The gift I have shared with you is worth more than every transgression you have suffered. You’ll come around to it in time, and you will thank me.”

“You’re mad,” you intoned under your breath in shock.

“Here, let me show you.” She reached out her hand. “Maybe it becomes easier once you’re acquainted with the specimens.”

Out of morbid curiosity, you took it and followed her past the winding corridors to a set of heavy steel doors coated in red. Just like in the dream - except it wasn’t one. You had lived through every horror in the vision you saw.

Upon scanning her keycard, you entered into a vast underground area, which you assumed was where the laboratory was stationed. A bunch of security personnel greeted the two of you as you strolled past them, onto an overhead bridge which led to an elevator that traveled downwards.

When you got to the bottom level, you spotted a handful of scientists milling about, typing up reports on their computers and scribbling down notes on their clipboards, as they observed various stages of experiments in controlled environments behind glass panels. As you walked further along, you came across a couple of stasis pods. Within them were young children, girls?, you weren’t sure, as they were completely deformed and mutilated. Covered in melanoid slime, their body parts were either missing or rearranged in a haphazard manner. It was appalling to see what others had done to them in the name of money, destruction and science.

“This one.” Silje tapped on one of the pods.

Beatrice, it read in bold print on an external label.

“It is connected to you.”

Placing your hand against the glass, you peered at the mangled figure in front of you, as traces of grief and pity surged within you. Recollecting what you had seen in the report that Till had given to you, you understood what Silje was trying to say. 

“You forced her to infect me.” To you, she was still a human being.

At your accusation, Silje whipped around, replying harshly, “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s what they are made for.”

“Now, you will feel a bond to it, though it will affect you less and less as time goes by,” she explained. “Even with its death, it cannot take away what you will get from the mold.”

“Can you see why they took your ova?” She questioned.

You raised a hand to your mouth, quivering as you spoke, “They want to make more of them… my god-”

At that moment, Beatrice’s eyes flew open, vivid yellow like a toxic sign, staring straight at you. You staggered backwards as you felt an icy cold grip on your head, as if someone was trying to pry into it. Random images of the laboratory, a baby bawling and jet black ooze flashed across your mind. But most of all, was the overwhelming sensation of being attached to her and wanting to protect her from any harm.

Silje held you in her arms, comforting you from all the emotions and memories you were experiencing. “I know, I know… it will soon pass.”

However, in the next few seconds, her mood changed. She started sniffing you, your hair and your neck, almost obsessively. The way a dog would inhale the scent of something new. 

“I can smell a man on you,” she began suspiciously.

A jolt of fear struck you, making your heart race. How much would she find out? You’d been with other men before. What made it different this time?

“That boy from your high school.”

Just as she said that, you heard a commotion coming from the security screens nearby. Multiple shots were being fired and yells for backup resounded from the intercoms. A quick glance towards the screen confirmed it. You saw the video footage of Leon running through the hallways, dodging bullets and swiftly disabling his opponents. If there was such a thing as a one-man army, he was it.

Silje’s eyes roved around, as if she was trying to figure out where something was located. They came to rest on the side of your coat, where an inconspicuous, pin-sized tag had been placed discreetly.

“A tracker,” she jeered. “I should’ve known you’re with him.”

As she put two and two together, her expression contorted into an assortment of betrayal, scorn and profound disappointment. At lightning speed, she yanked your hair back into death grip, nearly breaking your neck as she mocked you contemptuously, “I have to hand it to you, my dear. You were so careful up to now, but this-” 

Raising two fingers of her other gloved hand before you, she stuck them between your legs without warning, causing you to squirm and squeal out in discomfort. A thick, opalescent fluid glazed them as she pulled out, creating a damp patch on the leather. “This just gave you away.”

“Silje… please!” You begged, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Silence!” She let go of your hair, smacking you across the face with the back of her hand. The force of it was so strong that there was a metallic tang of iron on your tongue as you fell to the floor in a heap.

Licking her lips, she sucked her gloved fingers dry and laughed menacingly. “So, this is what he tastes like, hm? Well, no matter. Now I know what his weakness is.”

“Funny that it’s all coming full circle, isn’t it?” Her lilting voice permeated the space and she spoke as if she was telling a story. “There was intel on an American agent snooping around, sticking his nose in places where he shouldn’t be. Hah! I knew that boy would grow up to be nothing but trouble.”

She paced around you, like a shark circling its prey. “And you… the mole,” she tutted. “Out of all people, I had never once doubted you.” 

A look of dismay washed over her features as she lashed out. “I took you in like a mother, gave you everything and more than what you could possibly dream of! This is how you repay me?”

Her wrath knew no bounds as she chastised you, while you wept bitterly, knowing you were a traitor through and through. Your hair cascaded in a disheveled mess over your face, as blood and saliva dribbled down your mouth, sticking to the ground in a string. “I’m sorry, please… I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, guilt seeping through every crevice of your body. 

You didn’t want to harm her in any way. You just wished that she wouldn’t have had the urge to get involved in such an organization from the start.

Crawling towards her feet, you tried to appeal to her again to reconsider her actions. “Silje, you don’t have to do this. Please-” You reached out and latched on to her shoe, curling up beside her like a child would with their parent. “All of this… and the destruction it will bring, it’s not worth it. You know that,” you reasoned. “I don’t want you to end up in a bad place. You still have time, you could turn in the people responsible and I’ll vouch-”

"Enough!" Silje's command sliced through the air like a knife, yet you caught a momentary glimpse of sympathy in her eyes.

“Nothing you say will make me change my mind.” She clenched her jaw as she knelt beside you, tidying your hair and combing it out of your face. 

“I’ve seen first-hand what the mold can do.” The pitch black puddle from the candlelit room reappeared, sliding across the floor as it attached itself on to Silje’s gloves, rippling around them like clouded orbs. “Its regenerative qualities, even immortality… and so many other dormant powers lying in wait to be discovered. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

A gun shot rang out in the distance and you saw the scientists disperse, breaking Silje out of her reverie. “It’s just a shame it had to come to this.”

Something sinister flickered in her eyes, as she glanced over at you, grabbing one of your legs roughly. It felt like you were being weighed down by a ton of bricks, as she held you in place. Despite your struggling, you couldn’t move an inch.

“I’m tired of waiting for this boy,” she sighed. “He just needs a little motivation to speed things up, don’t you think?”

Before you could respond, Silje reinforced her grip on your leg and in one effortless motion, you heard the sickening sound of your shin snapping cleanly in two. An excruciating wave of pain coursed through your body, triggering a bloodcurdling scream that tore from your throat. Sharp, jagged edges of bone peeked through your skin and everything was washed in scarlet red. There was so much of it pouring out, you were nauseous at the sight.

Leon took the bait, as Silje had planned, yelling your name hysterically. He was getting closer and you wanted to stop him, but you were unable to vocalize anything beyond incoherent screeches. You made out his shape in your hazy vision, as he dashed over to you, cradling your limp body in his arms.

“No, no… don’t speak,” he hushed you as you sputtered helplessly. “I’m gonna get you out of here.” Scrambling for his medpack, he administered a first aid spray on your open wound. It was the best he could do for now.

“Trap.” Your voice cracked under strain, you pushed whatever words you could out of your mouth. “Go, you need to-”

“I know,” he asserted. “But I’m not leaving you.”

There was an acute sting at the back of your head and you realized your time was running out. You needed to warn him fast. “I’m infected, they got me under-”

But you weren’t quick enough to complete your sentence. You felt the claws of the little girl, Beatrice, sinking into your brain, directing your moves like a stage puppet. It was an out-of-body experience and you could only watch powerlessly as she turned you against him, for her own self-preservation. 

Your hand reached for his combat knife, unsheathing it before he had a chance to react. You slashed ferociously at him, as he backed away, blocking your attacks but unwilling to counter you in return. As if you were a rag doll being pieced back together, your shin bone clicked into place, while an onyx substance swam along the veins protruding from your leg.

You lunged his knife at him again and again with no sign of letting up, while he was on the defensive, treating you with so much care, like you were fragile glass. He called out to you, trying to break through the mental barriers that clouded your mind.

“Look at me!” Grasping your wrists and pinning them down, he stared directly into your eyes. “I know you’re in there, ok? It’s Leon!”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he continued, even though you were thrashing about wildly, growling at him like an untamed beast. 

He pleaded with you to stop, unable to bring himself to take any drastic measures. He wouldn't know how to forgive himself if he did. “You don’t have to do this.”

The sound of a slow clap reverberated against the walls, as Silje emerged from the shadows. “Oh, don’t you enjoy a good show?”

“Silje…” Leon hissed threateningly.

“All bark and no bite, just like back then.” A cruel smile spread across her face. “Tell me, how is it like watching someone you love harbor nothing but hatred towards you?”

“Shut the fuck up!” He spat, his eyes igniting with a fierce blaze of anger.

At that point, she removed her sunglasses leisurely, flaunting the monstrous yellow of her irises like glowing embers. Her teeth grew razor sharp and you saw her arms blackened like soot as she peeled off her gloves. Things were about to get really bad if you couldn’t get a hang of yourself.

His gaze shifted uneasily between you and Silje, as a storm of inner conflict visibly brewed within him. You still had the strong impulse to lacerate him with his knife, but you resisted a bit more each time, and your efforts seemed to be paying off slightly. It emboldened you to devise a plan spontaneously as you worked to regain control.

Through an enormous amount of sheer willpower, you croaked, “Leon, let go.”

He gave you a look of skepticism, but ultimately decided to trust you. His grip on your wrists loosened as you fought with all your might against the brainwashing influence. As you felt the familiar pull of Beatrice on your right arm, you braced yourself for what would come next. When she attempted to swing it at Leon, you used the momentum to twist your body in its direction, causing the knife to plunge into your left shoulder instead. You howled in agony, as you leaned against the wall and slid down, leaving behind a sanguine trail.

“Don’t!” You shook your head furiously when Leon stepped towards you. 

He locked eyes with you, his expression suffused with worry and distress, underscoring his reluctance to leave you alone. However, he understood that you had incapacitated yourself to aid him, and he knew he didn’t have a choice. You pulled out the knife with a stifled whimper, chucking it to the floor as more blood rushed out of you.

“Remarkable,” Silje commented, intrigued by the outcome of your fight with Leon. “Already showcasing fragments of autonomy.”

Though it wasn’t long before she focused her attention on Leon, emitting a guttural snarl, “Looks like I’ll have to take care of you myself!”

She charged towards him, stretching out her hands which had extended into spiked claws, as he dodged out of the way. Unleashing a barrage of bullets on her with his compact submachine gun to allow himself some breathing space, he circled around her back. Whipping out his shotgun, he fired at her a couple of times from point-blank range until he had to take cover to reload his weapon.

Although she was staggered, the bullets seemed to have no real effect on her. Each shot antagonized her even more instead, eventually resulting in ghastly mutations which developed across her body. The parts of her which were riddled with bullets turned into ulcerated sores, with coal black ooze dripping out of them. Her form swelled, towering over Leon and reducing him to the scale of a tiny ant in comparison. Just like the girls in stasis pods, Silje was covered in dark sludge and her limbs were affixed to random places at varying angles. Her large, feral eyes pierced the room, reddened with rage and loathing.

“You think you can get rid of me so easily?” Her speech took on a demonic tone, dropping an octave lower.

“I’ll teach you how to stay down in the first place,” he quipped, undeterred, as he raised his handgun, aiming it specifically at one of her eyes before firing a volley of shots that tore through the space.

She roared, swiping at him with her limbs, as he rolled to the side to evade her attacks. Her movements were slower now, but she could easily trample him in one go. Pieces of equipment, metal and brick hurtled through the air as they clashed with unbridled ferocity. His training took over, dealing in quick strikes whenever there was an opening, and outmaneuvering her with grace. But it wasn’t sufficient to take her down. Despite his relentless determination and skill, Leon was still human. His concentration was waning and his body was beginning to be pushed to its limits.

When he miscalculated his next move, Silje’s claws closed around him and with a surge of brute strength, flung him across the room savagely. Sparks erupted as he collided with the monitor screens, leaving shards of glass and stray wires scattered at his feet. He groaned, coughing out blood as he worked to lift himself up.

“Not good enough,” she taunted. “You’ll never have her. She’s mine!” 

Gnashing her fangs ominously, sickly drool leaked from them, as she slithered over to him, ready to rip his flesh apart and devour his organs.

“Silje, wait! Take me,” you cried. “Just spare him, please!”

She paused, considering your words. However, she was abruptly interrupted by a distant crack, as a sniper shot found its mark in the middle of her head with lethal precision. The projectile burrowed deep into her tissue, stunning her temporarily. 

From afar, you spotted the same enigmatic woman in red you encountered a day ago. The sole blemish on her otherwise pristine appearance was a tourniquet bound tightly around her thigh. Without a minute to waste, Ada tossed over a syringe to Leon, instructing, “Use this serum on her!” She sped over to another vantage point. “I’ll cover you!”

Based on their team dynamics, it seemed like they had done this before in the past. You began to understand that Ada cared for him, just like you did, even though on the surface, they appeared to stand on opposite ends of the moral compass.

Ada continued to mark her target, as Leon attempted to draw closer to Silje, weaving his way through her elongated limbs which sought to crush him. Meanwhile, you recognized Beatrice’s hold on you intensifying. She was scared and you could feel it. Afraid of being destroyed, wiped off the face of the earth, with no memory of her existence left behind. She wanted them to stop, and in turn, behaved erratically, hoping to bend them to her will.

Immediately, your body flopped onto the ground and you started to convulse violently. Ebony liquid poured out profusely from your eyes, nose and mouth, as you gurgled and choked. You were suffocating on your own vomit as it filled your lungs and led you towards a slow, harrowing death.

That was more than enough to cause a distraction. Leon froze on the spot, alarmed, his eyes were brimming with pure panic. Seconds ticked away as he weighed his options. Then, he remembered. “The fail-safe!” He shouted at Ada. “It’s labeled in red!”

“But-”

“Hurry!” He hollered again, with a heightened sense of urgency, as he ducked under a structure to avoid Silje’s grasp.

Ada’s mouth twitched in displeasure, but she nodded in response before bolting towards the rows of trays in the laboratory.

It felt like an eternity of torment as the light began to fade from your vision. Was this what it was like to die? Dissolving into the ether. Everything was so cold and empty. No one would remember you. You were nothing…

Until your body jolted back to life as you gasped for breath, coughing up the remnants of the murky fluids onto the ground. You felt blood rushing to your eardrums and your lungs were on fire, as you struggled to draw in more oxygen. 

From your viewpoint, you witnessed Ada holding a canister of the toxins that were meant to neutralize each batch of bioweapons. As she pumped them into the stasis pods, you heard the shrieks coming from the young girls who erupted into an inky, molten state. It felt like a part of you had been torn asunder, as your connection with Beatrice was severed.

An ear-splitting scream of anguish broke out from the other end of the room. Leon had climbed on top of Silje, seizing her head with his hand and promptly injected the serum into her. You observed her steady transformation with a heavy heart, as her body started to calcify from bottom-up, its surface hardening into an impenetrable layer. 

As she gradually succumbed to the petrification, her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish on its last breath. A shadow of sorrow swept across her face as her final words tumbled out, “My child, why…”

Leon leaped away from her statue, nearly stumbling in a state of exhaustion, as he exhaled a pronounced sigh of relief. He walked briskly over to you, while Ada joined him, lugging a metallic briefcase with a sultry saunter as her heels clacked purposefully on the floor.

You were weak and faint from the massive loss of blood, which was still flowing down in rivulets from your punctured wound, soaking your clothes in a bright crimson. When Leon took in the sight of your pale, ashen complexion, it didn’t matter how hard he tried to hide the fear in his eyes. You noticed it as clear as day, but you were too tired to speak.

Hastily, he ripped out a piece of fabric from his shirt, using the cloth as a makeshift bandage around your wound and applying pressure on it to stem the flow.

“She’s not looking so good,” Ada warned. “Better get a move on.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he retorted defensively. 

“Here.” She pulled out another syringe of the serum from her briefcase, extending it to him. “It cures the infected,” she explained. “The girl’s not as far gone as Silje, so it might work as intended for her.”

He regarded Ada with apprehension, as though he had been bitten one too many times. “What’s the catch?”

“Hm.” She smirked. “Glad you asked.”

Holding up a cylindrical container she had swiped from the laboratory earlier, she admired the Stygian, putrid substance encased within it. “I’m taking a sample of the mold and the necessary research files, but I’m sure you don’t mind, do you?”

Leon narrowed his eyes at her, pursing his lips in disappointment. “Of course, why would I have expected anything less?”

“We have a deal then?” She pressed.

He glanced back at you, taking a moment to stroke your cheek in reassurance. Then, he turned to her, scowling, as he confirmed his acceptance. “Fine.”

Giving him a weary, lopsided smile, Ada handed over the serum and proceeded to download the information she needed from the computer systems in the vicinity onto her hard drive. 

“She must be special,” Ada remarked, with a tinge of melancholy. “Take care of her,” she added, nodding towards you as a sign of acknowledgment. 

You held her gaze briefly, and even though you could barely respond, it seemed as if both of you had come to a mutual understanding.

“Good luck, Leon,” she muttered, before taking her leave and disappearing without a trace.

There was a quiet stillness as Leon placed the syringe against your arm. “You’re gonna be ok,” he comforted you, kissing your forehead softly. “I promise.”

You felt the prick of the needle going through your skin as he administered the serum. A glacial chill crept through your veins, as though each droplet of blood was being encased in ice. You trembled uncontrollably, but he held onto you staunchly, refusing to let you go as he begged you repeatedly to answer him.

You couldn’t. Like sand through his fingers, you slipped away into unconsciousness.

[kieranxvalentine]

Shine. [M. O'hara]

༻♡༺✎ Your world was usually bleak and grey, series of black and white. Color was a luxury didn’t get to experience. Your friends had long since found their soulmates and tended to rub in in your face. But after being saved by your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, you realized why you had never seen your soulmate. He was Spiderman. ༻♡༺✎ Miguel O’hara x Reader. ༻♡༺✎ PG! Soulmate Au ༻♡༺✎ 1.1k words ༻♡༺✎  I love soulmate au's so expect more from me- If you want to support me! Here's my link!

“Don’t worry Y/n!” “I’m pretty sure you will find your soulmate soon!” “You’ll find them eventually!.”

Each and everyone that you have ever met have always told you the same thing. 

That your time was coming and that it was going to be your time to meet your soulmate.

That they were out there, they were on the way.

But here’s the thing, they all have their soulmate already.

When you went out with your friends, you were jealous. They were all able to see the bright colorful lights of Nueva York at night. The got to see the rainbows and various colors in between, and not have to be stuck to seeing the world in dull greys, blacks and whites. 

Tonight was another one of those nights.

Your friends Melody and Isabelle decided to invite you out to go to a festival being held in downtown Nueva York. 

You tried to be happy about the event but your friends kept taking cheap shots at you.

“Oh my god! Y/n! Did you see the fireworks?” “She can’t see colors stupid. She doesn’t have her soulmate.” “Oh! You still haven't found him?”

You sighed as you looked up to the sky, seeing fireworks explode in the sky, but to you they just looked like white lights against a black sky. You could tell that there were different colors due to the varying greys and white but other than that. You couldn’t see much.

"Ahh.. You'll find 'em one day Y/n." "Hey, I heard you can get artificial glasses to see colors if you never do- OW!" "Aya! That's not nice!"

You felt tears were welling up in her eyes as her friends continually cheers and talk about the exciting decorations, lights and everything else.

“Oh my god look!”

Your eyes looked over to the Alchemax building and your eyes light up, Whenever this festival happened it was normal for their Spiderman to arrive and watch from afar, From what you knew from your friends and family, he wore a red and blue suit, that seemed cybernetic, his webs were a neon red.

You wished you could understand the concept of colors. You wished that you could experience that true feeling of excitement everyone describes when you meet your soulmate.

It's often described as a burst of emotions, a warm feeling that rivals being snuggled up in your favorite blanket during a cold day.

You hated that you were constantly left out of the loop when it came to things, and that your friends weren’t really helpful for what-

“LOOK OUT!”

A scream left your body as you were tackled as an explosion happened close by, You braced for impact, expecting your back to hit the rough ground but you felt someone’s large hands cradling you in their arms.

You opened your eyes and felt an intense pain shoot through your head, and you were knocked back onto your feet.

You groaned in pain as the person holding you helped you up to your feet. You finally opened your eyes and your breath caught in your throat.

You were rescued by Spiderman, but that wasn’t what caused your silence, you could see the colors of his suit, the way the red and blue merged together to make the spider symbol on his chest, the way the grey device he wore on his wrist lit up with orange colors. 

It seems like it affected him too, he took a step back before placing a hand on his head, you gasped as you watched him pull his mask off.

He had beautiful short brown locs and tanned skin, brown eyes with hints of red shades in them. He was handsome…very handsome.

You were silent for a while until he finally spoke up.

“So I guess you’re my soulmate, Huh?”

He raised a hand to caress your cheek, cradling your body back close to him, as if he was analyzing all the colors you had on, admiring the beauty of your skin, eyes and hair.

"Después de tanto tiempo, finalmente te encontré."

His voice was wonderful, it was like velvet to your ears. You nodded slightly, not understanding what he said. He chuckled at this before he slid his mask back on. He finally pulls away from you..

“Head home, pretty sure the festival is going to be over, I’ll meet you there.”

He quickly shot a web to join what you assumed was other spider people, leaving you in shock. 

Your friends quickly found you and they rushed to your side. “Y/n!? Oh my god are you okay?”

“What the hell happened? Why do you look like that?!” Melody yelled as she shook you.

“I..I think i just met my soulmate…” You mumbled out as your friends looked at each other before looking back at you.

“Huh?!”

“During the chaos?! Well who is he?”

“H..he’s…Spiderman..”

…

“HE’S WHO?!” “HE’S WHAT?!”

"Mama! I'm serious! I met my soulmate and he's spiderman!"

"Aye...I'm finding it hard to believe honey.

You were currently in your home, an apartment that was on the third floor of your building. You were cooking yourself something while on the phone with your mother. She had called to check on you after your friends had told her about the festival and what happened there.

“Are you sure you weren’t just seeing things, Honey?..”

“Mom! I know what spiderman looks like! We only have one in our city!!” You whined as your mother chuckled over the phone. She believed you…well partially.

She was just happy that you could see colors like everyone else.

You were about to ramble on again before you heard a tapping on your window.

You walked over with the phone, only to see your friendly neighborhood spiderman his mask off and he was waiting outside your window.

“Mom..I’ll call you back later..”

You hung up the phone on your mother (which you would probably get an ear full for it later.), and rushed to the window, opening it, allowing him in.

He climbed in through your window with a gentle smile on his face, this man was huge, around 6’9, which dwarfed your form. He placed his hands on either side of your shoulders as he looked down at you.

“I believe we need to get properly acquainted.” He says and you blush as you averted your gaze, only to have him bring your gaze back to his with a hand on your chin. You felt your heart nearly leap out of your throat. Butterflies were dancing in your stomach as he looked down at you with a playful smirk.

“I’m Miguel, Miguel O’hara.”

“Y/n…Y/n L/n..” You responded as he continued to hold you close as if he were to let go you were going to vaporize right before his eyes. He raises a hand to touch your (h/c) hair, as if admiring the color before locking his eyes with your (e/c) ones. It felt weird to finally see color, but the fuzzy feeling in your chest quickly quelled that feeling.

“U-um?..W-would you like to stay for dinner?..” You managed to stutter out as he finally let you go. He nods as he follows behind you as you guide him into the kitchen.

You felt comfortable in his presence, one because he was your city’s superhero, two, because he was your soulmate. Your eyes exploded with color when you locked eyes with him. 

That meant you did have a soulmate, you weren’t going to be alone forever in a dull, colorless world.

Miguel was a gentleman, he was polite and seemed to be perfect for you, besides him being, you know Spiderman. You found yourself talking with him until you ended up getting sleepy.

He led you back to your bed and helped you get tucked in before placing a kiss on your forehead, and leaving the same way he came in, out the window. 

When he was gone, you heard a buzz from your phone and turned to look at your phone.

‘My Soulmate <3: Looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you..’

You felt your heart swell as you turned back over preparing to head to bed, he had put his number in before leaving. You felt so giddy.

You had your soulmate, and He was also your hero.

©kieranxvaletine 2023 <3 Hope you all enjoyed!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey I'm not sure if I'm bothering you but could you do the ilper egos(dark, bim, host and iswm mark) with a werewolf/vampire hybrid reader?

Dark

You’re an interesting creature to him.

Two different beings merged into one. Sounds quite familiar.

Tbh he doesn’t mind what you do or whose blood your feast on. As long as you don’t make a mess and track blood all over the floor.

He also doesn't want you getting fur on his suit or desk whenever you fully transform.

Unfortunately that...happens more than either of you would like to admit (not to mention it’s often encouraged by Wilford).

“[Y/n] I’m not going to ask again, keep off my......oh don’t give me those pathetic “puppy eyes”. You’re no Chica.”

He scolds you every time but does he actually do anything about it??

No.

It might just be the dog-person in Damien who just can’t stay mad at you forever but shhhh

Bim

After today's gameshow, he wondered where the winner and all the “hamburger” meat had gone.

Then he hears his production team screaming backstage and finds you just??? Biting into raw meat?? And only sucking the blood from it??

At first he doesn’t even know it’s you till he sees your ripped clothes and it clicks.

No wonder you seemed a little too eager watching the losers get chucked into the meat grinder.

“Woah....WOAH SOMEONE GET THIS ON CAMERA--or...a-actually don’t. Shoo." He shoves the cameraman away and approaches you.

“Heyyyy [y/n]. I was gonna see if you wanted your prize but...I guess you already found one, haha.” He laughs as you look at him, kinda embarrassed you lost control of yourself.

But he’s chill about it, petting your fur and calling you a “good dog”.

Host

You were something straight of a fictional horror story.

That’s Host’s way of complimenting you, which is confusing but he still hangs out with you so??? He likes you.

He wishes he could fully see what you look like.

Though you let him pet your fur and feel your snout/ears/tail/paws whenever you fully turn.

If his sockets start bleeding from stress, you’ll have to leave the room bc the scent of blood gets overwhelming and you don’t wanna hurt him. It’s something you still don’t have too much control over. 

Host knows this too and tries to avoid being too stressed out around you.

Ofc he can narrate to stop you from attacking but he doesn’t wanna do that either.

Space

The ship settled on a planet full of hybrid creatures, specifically ones seen as “myths” back on Earth.

The plot twist? It wasn’t found by accident. It was actually the home planet of the Captain, aka you. You’ve intended to lead your crew here to establish peace and coexistence with humanity.

Of course, that was far from easy with all the time loops and universe-hopping, but you finally made it.

However it’s not obvious to Mark that you were a werewolf-vampire hybrid this entire time (you hid it relatively well except for when you shoved him into ADS and scented the blood he left all over the scanners).

Then you finally take off your helmet to reveal your blood-red eyes, fangs, and wolflike face/ears, breathing the fresh air of your planet with joy.

Then you realize Mark's staring and you expect him to shriek in horror (or at the very least be upset you never told him your true nature).

But he’s like “woah, Cap. You’re a big..scary...k-kinda cute vampire puppy???” He’s a little confused (tho he still acknowledges you as captain, much to your relief).

“Cute” is certainly a foreign term to your species. But you’ll take whatever rare compliments come your way.

[sneezefiction]

my turn

atsumu x reader

desc: you get a back massage from a gremlin your fiancé

a/n: @gahdam-beb hollz, thank you bunches for this cuteness! he absolutely would give good back massages. may or may not have gotten super carried away here – i meant for this to be like,, 200 words. not proofread & it’s all lowercase :,)

warnings: language, mentions marriage, mentions stabbing (i promise this entire fic is pure fluff though)

wc: 1.3k

—

so maybe the couch isn’t the best place to sprawl out on.

but you could hardly make it through the apartment door, much less all the way to your bedroom.

a leg dangles limply off the side of the worn-down sofa while the rest of your body merges with the cushion. the smell of pizza from last night’s takeout lingers on the soft material. an air conditioner unit whirs on and a chill streams across your skin, making your hairs stand on end.

unfortunately, all the throw blankets are either in the dryer or on your bed. and your fiancé? well, Atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

you sigh into a pillow.

it’s not every day you feel deprived of his presence. the blond is a lot to handle and he has a habit of bringing chaos with him wherever he goes, whether it’s a quick jaunt to the kitchen or across the country at a volleyball game.

but you can’t help but miss Atsumu, his chaos included. you’re quite endeared to him, actually.

i mean, there’s certainly a reason you’re wearing that silver engagement ring.

but right now it’s not just him that you’re missing. it’s those warm hands of his.

they tickle and prod and they’re not the softest things in the world... but they sure make for a back’s best friend. if you could wish for anything right now, it would be a back massage — for someone to rub and smooth away the tension of another long day.

but he’s not supposed to be back for another hour.

you shut your eyes, choosing to nap until he eventually walks through the door... but a tapping outside keeps your ears perked at attention.

the steps grow heavier in the corridor and, alongside that noise, your heart starts to thrumb louder too. you got off work early and your neighbors don’t typically come home til late... so you’re definitely not expecting anyone.

soon you realize the footsteps are just outside your door.

your heart jumps as the door clicks open and, from it, a rather refreshed-looking Atsumu emerges.

you thank the couch gods that it’s just him.

you would’ve rather been stabbed than defend yourself — you’re too tired to deal with that bullshit. but you’re glad that the universe hadn’t sealed your fate just yet.

“i’m home,” he calls, drawling out the words, “did ya miss me?”

you acknowledge him with a pitiful groan into the couch. it was an attempt at saying “yes” but even you aren’t sure of the unholy sound you just made.

“i don’t speak gremlin,” he chuckles.

you lift your head, shooting him a look.

“that’s unfortunate since you pretty much are one,” you say, dryly.

his jaw drops.

“i’m gonna tell ‘Samu you said that. we have the same face, y’know.”

okay, maybe you should be a little nicer if you want him to put his hands all over you... in a nonsexual way... at least for right now.

you don’t respond to him.

but that doesn’t stop him from talking.

“did somebody have a bad day?” his voice is high and he juts a lip out, taunting you.

you frown violently (if that’s at all possible). yes, he’s joking, but his face looks a fraction more slappable now.

“not particularly,” is your somewhat honest answer.

he shrugs off his jacket, the fabric tussling as he tosses it onto a wooden coat rack. there’s a clink of keys and the plop of a wallet on the countertop.

soon, those heavy steps you heard from outside are treading in your direction until he reaches the corner of the couch – right where your face is. without any hesitation, he sinks into a squat until you’re at eye-level with the giant.

you don’t move an inch, but even though you’re irritated, you kind of wanna kiss him.

“you’re home early,” you mumble, instead of grabbing his face and crashing your lips into his.

Atsumu tilts his head, “i wanted to surprise ya ‘cus i knew you’d be off early.”

he looks annoyingly attractive under the dingy living-room light. where are his dark circles? why are there no wrinkles on his forehead?

you, on the otherhand, probably look like a sloth on its last leg... arm? sloth appendages are confusing and you’d rather not think about that right now.

“is there anything i can do for ya?” he asks, softening at your grumpy expression.

yes.

“no.”

why are you making this difficult for yourself? it’s obvious you’re not doing too hot... and you really want that back massage – your muscles are practically screaming at you for relief.

he leans in closer, brushing his knuckles across your exposed cheek. they’re gentle on your skin.

“are ya sure?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper.

okay, sometimes he’s sweet. but only sometimes.

“can... you give me a massage?” you mumble through pouting lips.

a gentle smile forms on his lips, “yeah.”

he stands, long legs replacing the space where his face once was. Atsumu then shuffles to your side, but it takes him a moment to get situated.

the couch dips as he places a knee on either side of you, straddling your hips. Atsumu makes ass-to-ass contact. the most romantic of positions.

you squeal as he crushes you beneath him.

“oh, c’mon i’m not that heavy,” Atsumu snorts.

“says the guy who’s not actively being squashed into a couch.”

although you’d rather this than the burning ache under your skin.

he grumbles under his breath, but you choose to ignore it. suddenly, fingers are pressing deeply into your upper back and grazing your shoulder blades.

a quick gasp escapes your lips and you instantly regret it.

his deep chuckle shakes his body and, in turn, yours too. thankfully, his lips stay sealed.

you wish you could see that little smirk of his, as much as it bugs you, while he works his magic on your tight shoulders. there’s something so charming about that lopsided grin – it’s part of why you love him so much.

he adjusts again, accidentally kneeing you in the side.

“shit! be careful,” you jolt, warning him.

he smooths a hand down your hip and mutters out a genuine “sorry,” atoning in both word and deed.

in doing so, a metallic coolness brushes against an exposed patch of skin, making you shiver. you peek over your shoulder to see what it is.

it’s the ring on his finger...

and suddenly you can’t fuss at him anymore.

instead, warmth travels steadily throughout your body and his palms burn against your skin.

how can you be marrying him and still flush over the silliest things? in your defense, the ring is a relatively new thing in your relationship. it throws you for a loop anytime you catch sight of it.

Atsumu kneads firmly into the tissues, loosing stubborn knots and waking up your tired skin. his hands are large and stable; like a potter to unshaped clay, the digits mould and shape and indent.

slowly, but surely, your body relaxes and your mood lifts. a soft, virtually undetectable smile is on your lips.

Atsumu could be hellish and rude and a brat about the oddest things. he’s pretty gross and always tries to hug you when he’s dripping sweat. you’re also certain, positive, without a shadow of a doubt sure that he’s the more disagreeable twin.

but you’re probably the only person who can put up with him.

and he, you.

it’s a good thing you found each other... and even better that you can both give great back massages. it’s likely that’s what’s preserving your relationship.

hopefully, that same tactic works in marriage too.

you hum to yourself and your eyes, already drooping, finally close. Atsumu softens his touch, tracing the curves and contours of your body, lulling you into a hazy state.

Atsumu, rough and tumble as he is, could be gentle when he wanted to be — a side of him that easily made you see stars and super novas where only golden eyes and blond strands exist.

at some point, you think you feel a ghost of a breath against your skin.

maybe even a pair of lips pressing to your neck? you’re a little too out of it to tell.

but as soon as you find yourself drifting off, his hands peel away from you. it’s like you just lost a piece of yourself because you’re desperately searching for that missing warmth.

you whine in protest, turning to face the cruel man. after such a long fucking week, he chose to stop. and you were almost asleep too.

but that bastard.

that disgustingly adorable bastard.

he’s smiling as wide and bright as the milky way. there’s not even a hint of guilt.

“my turn,” he directs through a waggish grin.

alright, he’s slappable again.

—

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Hello! I wished to rec a fic! It's 'The Echoes of that News Ring Loud' by Scarlet_Gryphon in AO3 in which the Nie bros accidentally travel back in time and fix things through the power of adoption ~ @ladyunderthemolehill​

The Echoes of that News Ring Loud

by Scarlet_Gryphon (T, 112k, nie huaisang & nie mingjue, 3zun, wangxian, sangning, xuanli, 

Summary:  Nie Mingjue never wanted to say goodbye.

Nie Huaisang never got to say goodbye.

One desperate choice leads to a thousand new ones.

(Or, the Nie brothers save the cultivation world [and themselves] through time travel, unlikely allies, and adopting far too many martial siblings.)

~*~

Hello! I'd like to rec a fic! I t was recced to me by the dear friend @rhystarose who I first dragged in and has now surpassed my in my fascination for cdramas (Untamed and Word of Honor n particular.) This is a brilliantly written Jiang Cheng fixes everything from after his trip to the Burial Mounds story. It's all Jiang Cheng's running inner monologue as he works and the man swears like an old time sailor which is perfect and hysterical. I believe the author noted it at over 4500 versions of "fuck" Anyway - I can't rec it enough!!! ~ @faradheia

With Such Impossible Conveyance

by Comfect (T, 100k, jiang cheng & wei wuxian, wangxian, chengqing)

Summary:  "And then Wei Wuxian tells him to do it—to renounce him, expel him from the sect, expel him from the clan, distance the Jiangs from the actions of their renegade cultivator.  He almost does it. He almost walks away.

But, honestly? Fuck that."

Wei Wuxian has turned his back on everything by leading the Wen remnants to the Burial Mounds to start a new life. Jiang Cheng decides Wei Wuxian doesn't get out of things that easily.

~*~

hellooo!!! id like to rec “my rivers tilt towards you” by perfectlyrose. its amazing and so so so cute, perfect for if you need a pick me up 😁 ~ @camppureblood​

my rivers tilt towards you

by perfectlyrose (T, 27k, wangxian)

Summary:  The Cloud Recesses can only be found by those in need.

Lan Wangji sets out from his ancestral home to see the world and collect knowledge for his sect. Wei Wuxian leaves Lotus Pier to try and ease the tension for his siblings, assuming it will be better if he's gone for a while. Their paths cross and merge for a time. When they part, neither of them expect Wei Wuxian's path to lead him to the gates of the legendary Cloud Recesses, in need of help.

~*~

Hi!! I've been following your blog for a while now and I have found soooo many good finds from your recs. Thank you so much!! 😭😭  [My pleasure!]  

Instead of asking for a rec, can I give one? I found this AMAZING underrated modern magic au that gave me so much feels. It's actually a Puella Magi Madoka Magica AU but no background knowledge is required! Borrowing that show's themes, the series focuses on the price of a wish. It is very artful, emotional, angsty, thought-provoking, and with a bittersweet end. Other notable tags would include, time loop, existential angst, high school, mental instability.  Take care and have a nice day!! 😊😊😊

Wei Wuxian Makes a Wish

by natcat5 (M, 109k, wangxian, wei wuxian & wen ning, nie huaisang & wei wuxian)

Summary:  There is a boy with a red ribbon in his hair, with fire and valour in his heart. At the end of the story, he dies (repeat ad infinitum).

There is a boy with(out) a blue ribbon. He is made of broken glass; bleeding edges and distorted reflections. He holds love in his chest, he holds love like a bullet lodged in his chest. The ink on his contract is dry– but his fingers drip black; stained from rewriting the fates of others. At the end of the world he stands in the water and says– my soul, my body, my mind, but not my heart.

There is a valorous boy in a red ribbon. He is a puppet on a string. He is the gear that turns the fates of others. If he makes a contract he’ll end the world. If he makes no contract the world will end. He stares across the water at a love he has no memory of. He stares up at the shattered sky. He stares into himself and says, swallow down your hesitation– what will you wish for?

(You can only repeat a story so many times)

~*~

catfish AUs are my shit and one that I think doesn't have enough credit is When I Get Home by allbloomgold . it has a good start and is super entertaining.

When I Get Home

by allbloomgold (E, 33k, wangxian, past wei wuxian/omc, WIP)

Summary:  Wei Ying gets blackout drunk twice - the first time leads him to catfishing Lan Zhan, the second leads him to buying a plane ticket to Las Vegas. From there, things get complicated. Real complicated.

Or a romantic comedy that has it all - magic, Las Vegas, the mafia, friendship, self-realization, and - of course - the honorable Thrae Thrae.

~*~

(I have 4 more Follower Recs coming up in a few days, but I didn’t want this post to get too unwieldy)

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part three]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

“No sex?”

“Y/n!” Sam hissed through his teeth. “You think you could lower your fucking voice a little?” His tone was even, but his eyes betrayed the thinly veiled panic you were all too familiar with. 

Pushing your best friend’s buttons was something you usually enjoyed, but in that moment you were feeling a similar sense of panic. 

“Sorry, how was I supposed to react to you telling me I can’t sleep with anyone this summer?” you snapped in a whisper. 

“How were you expecting to pull that off without making it look like you were cheating on me?” he countered. 

“I- I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about it...”

Sam had been typing the list of “rules” for the summer in the notes app of his phone for the better half of an hour as you brainstormed together, and you had been on board with everything that it consisted of so far:

No gross pet names (babe, baby, and darling are acceptable)

No kissing with tongue

No telling embarrassing stories!! (yes that includes that one time i got a condom stuck in my nose and we had to go to the emergency room- that’s literally only funny to you)

4. Share a bed together for the whole trip

ACT LIKE WE’RE IN LOVE (@ y/n)

Spend at least an hour with family per day

Take “coupley” pictures together when my parents as- bc they WILL ask

Wear the matching shirts my mother made 

Buy y/n all the alcohol she wants

It was a pretty decent list, all things considered, until he got to rule number ten. 

“I mean it’s not like it’s going to be easy for me either,” Sam reasoned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Am I supposed to thank you for your service or something? Applaud you for keeping it in your pants for two whole months?”

“You’re literally complaining about the exact same thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m only doing it to save your ass,” you huffed.

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” he said, sighing. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

You gave him a soft smile. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“You don’t want to be. You’ve mentioned that several times.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.”

Sam smiled at that. “Thanks, I love you too.”

“Alright that’s enough sincerity between us for a lifetime,” you said and chuckled uneasily. “We can go back to being assholes to each other now.”

“Good, that took a lot out of me.”

You glared at him, but refrained from making a comment. “What’s next on the list then, lover boy?”

“Already breaking the first rule-”

“Fine, what’s next on the list, fuckface?” you asked with a smirk. 

Sam clenched his jaw and scrolled on his phone. “Okay, number eleven, no flirting with my brothers.”

“Do you really need to write that one down?” You watched as he typed it out without acknowledging you. “Like isn’t that kind of implied? You know I don’t see Harry like that.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” he muttered. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, awaiting an explanation, but he offered none. Instead, he moved on to the next rule and left you sitting alone in your confusion. 

The majority of the rest of the flight was spent bickering with Sam over the list, undoubtedly annoying the hell out of everyone seated around you. The other passengers finally got some reprieve from the sound of your hushed voices when Sam put his earbuds in to listen to music. You knew he was only doing it to tune you out because whenever he was really listening to something he always shared one of his earbuds with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. If he was going to be like that then... god, this was going to be a long summer.

You shifted in your seat so that you could comfortably rest your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Even though he was frustrated with you, you knew he wouldn’t push you away. It was just like that with you guys. He’d get over it by the time you landed. 

When you opened your eyes again, Sam had fallen asleep too. He was slumped against you with his head resting on top of yours like something out of a movie. It struck you as ironic. To passers by you already looked like a couple. Game on. 

-

Sam led the way through the busy airport terminal to baggage claim, apparently trusting you were right on his heels. But it was almost like he was trying to lose you with the way he was weaving through the crowd like a wanted fugitive. You could barely keep up. Some fake boyfriend he was. 

You’d never seen your best friend like this before. Usually he was so calm and collected, the one who was always talking you off the ledge, but you could tell he was the one climbing stairs right now. 

“Fuck, there’s no way this’ll work.” 

It had been another one of those late nights in the library when Sam had thrown the stack of index cards onto the table in surrender and buried his face in his hands. You were both teetering on the edge of a caffeine crash. The words on the pages had started to blur together in a way that was almost illegible and neither of you could keep the important dates of your relationship straight. 

“Yes it will,” you insisted as you gathered up the cards and handed them back to him. “We’re just burnt out. That’s why we keep getting things wrong.” He knit his eyebrows together in a way that told you he didn’t believe you, but didn’t say anything in return. You sighed and took a sip of your coffee, giving him a measured look over the lenses of your glasses. “It’s four am., Sam. We just need some sleep and then we’ll come back fresh tomorrow, you’ll see.”

He pushed his hair back from his forehead and nodded reluctantly. “Thanks for doing this with me... it’s, uh, really important to me.”

“I know.” 

But you didn’t know why. Sam didn’t even study this hard for midterms, but here he was night after night with you mapping out every single detail of your fake relationship. A small part of you wondered if there was something more, something that he was keeping from you, but you pushed the thought down. You told each other everything...

As you watched him wait for your suitcases at the carousel, arms crossed, left foot tapping the tile impatiently, it dawned on you just how nervous he was. You wished there was something you could say to ease his mind, but the right words were escaping you. To be fair, you weren’t having any luck shaking your jitters either. You’d never been in a relationship long enough to meet your significant other’s parents. Somehow the fact that you weren’t even dating made it even more daunting. You desperately needed the Hollands to like you- for both you and Sam’s sakes. 

“This one’s yours, right?” Sam asked and pointed to one of the bags he’d rolled over.

“Yeah, thanks for grabbing it.”

“Don’t mention it, babe.” You fought the urge to make a face- “you’re making a face.”

“Sorry, knee-jerk reaction. Still adjusting to hearing that.”

“Well adjust quicker because my brother will be here to pick us up any minute.”

“Wait, what?”

“How else did you think we were going to get home?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

You followed Sam outside through the automatic doors to the car loop to wait for Harry. It was warm out, but there was a light breeze that lifted some of the heat from the pavement. The sun had set mere minutes ago, and dusk was lazily settling over the horizon. You were too close to the city to see any stars, but the moon glowed dimly behind the clouds, like a performer waiting in the wings. 

Sam scrolled through Spotify as you both sat there, carefully balanced on your suitcases, and offered you one of his AirPods. You took it wordlessly and put it in your ear. The gesture was comforting, almost intimate, a reminder that nothing had changed between you. At least not yet. 

He was playing something you hadn’t heard before, a classical piece. It sounded old and European which didn’t narrow it down at all. A glance at the title scrolling across his screen suggested that it was French, but he put his phone in his pocket and stood up before you could fully read it. 

Before you could ask what was happening a black Audi pulled up to the curb, parked, and a boy who was... not Harry stepped out of it. It was then that you realized Sam had never specified which brother was picking you up. 

You knew Sam had an older brother, but he didn’t talk about him much. You had just assumed they weren’t close, but as you watched them hug and laugh together you weren’t sure what to make of it. 

“Y/n, this is Tom,” Sam said as he introduced you to his brother. “Tom, this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” You held out your hand and he shook it tentatively.

“Likewise,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. “Can I help you guys with your bags?”

“Um, sure. That’d be great.”

You handed over your suitcase and backpack to him and joined Sam back over on the sidewalk while Tom lifted the luggage into the trunk with surprising ease.

Tom was about Sam’s height, slender like Sam too, but far more athletically built. Even through his t-shirt you could see the distinct outline of muscles you hadn’t even known existed in the human anatomy- it was ridiculous. His smile was the same as Sam’s too, but what really gave him away as a Holland were the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap. They were impossible to miss. 

“Do you want to sit in the front, love?” Sam asked, pulling you back into the moment.

“No thanks, you catch up with your brother. I’ll be fine in the back.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. Tom didn’t seem too thrilled to meet you in the first place so sitting in the back seemed like the safer way to play it. Sam just shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat while you slid into the middle seat in the back. 

“Did you tell mum we’re running a few minutes late?” Sam asked Tom once he’d merged onto the road. 

“Yeah, she said she expects it from Heathrow anyway since they’re always so busy.”

“It was fucking packed, mate.”

“I know. Traffic was awful getting here. Everyone’s going on holiday.” Tom turned to glance at you, then back at his brother. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner should be ready when we get there.”

“When we get where?” you piped up in confusion, wondering who would’ve cooked at the boys’ flat.

“Mum’s and dad’s.”

You grabbed Sam by the shoulder. “Wait, we’re going straight to your parents’ house? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What do you mean? Why does it matter?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“Like what?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m wearing sweatpants!”

“And you look fine!” he argued. “Tom, tell her she looks fine.”

“Uh, you look fine.”

Why were men so fucking dense? You rolled your eyes and unbuckled your seatbelt. Your suitcase was just out of reach in the trunk so you hoisted yourself up over the seatback and grabbed one of the straps on the bag to pull it closer to you.  

With your limited access it was hard to find what you were looking for, but you managed to randomly pull out a nice pair of jeans and a floral print blouse you’d thrifted last semester to change into. 

Before either of the boys up front could register what was happening you pulled your t-shirt off over your head and started shimmying out of your sweats. 

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?” Sam hissed as the car swerved. 

To be fair, you were just straight up taking your pants off in his brother’s car, but in your defense he’d really left you no choice. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You snapped and looked back up at him defiantly, catching Tom’s eye in the rearview mirror as you did. 

“Keep your eyes on the fucking road, Tom.” Sam grumbled, shooting daggers back at you.

You blew him a kiss in return followed by the middle finger as you buttoned your jeans with your other hand. 

Tom laughed and turned to his brother. “I like her.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (Part 11)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, (here)

Read it on Ao3 HERE

                                                     🐺 🌼 🐺

Geralt didn’t even make it a day.

He left Oxenfurt behind at dawn, riding Roach, alone, just like he always was. There was water here, a river, and trees. They were willow trees, weeping over the sludgy river, bending to sweep the water and Geralt thought of Jaskier’s mother, of the flash of an opal ring on Jaskier’s hand. The Pontar was wide and slow here, and Geralt thought of a hidden pool, far in a forest, and Jaskier talking about his mother. 

Maybe he wasn’t half dryad, maybe he was. Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything but...but what if his life was longer than a human’s? Geralt didn’t want to have to lose him anytime soon, but what if he wouldn’t have to? 

Geralt realized he’d already lost Jaskier. He’d betrayed his husband’s trust, kissing a witch and leaving him. He was still injured. Melitele’s tits, Geralt was an asshole. He’d hurt Jaskier. On purpose. 

A clean break, what the hell was he thinking? They were married, there was no ‘clean break’. They’d have to see eachother eventually. He’d look into beautiful eyes and they’d be full of hatred. He’d see his husbands solid frame and watch the posture become closed and standoffish. Perhaps Jaskier’s words would even turn cold. Toss A Coin would never be heard in taverns again, instead something else. Witchers Are Selfish Bastards could become the next hit. 

He couldn’t protect Jaskier though. The doublet was just that, a doublet. It was a pretty thing, not armor. Geralt could wrap the entire bard in basilisk leather and he still might never be safe. 

But at least you’d be there to fight for him, whispered a treacherous part of Geralt’s mind. He spurred Roach faster, as if he could outrun the thought.

What if there was a barfight? Sure, Jaskier could take care of himself, but if there were no knives around? No weapons? What if he got jumped in an alleyway, or fell ill and he was too sick to find a healer?

Surely having Geralt there was better than nothing. 

Jaskier might not even want Geralt back, not after he’d run like a coward and a fool. 

Without his permission, Geralt’s hands had turned Roach’s reins back towards Oxenfurt. It was dusk, they’d ridden without stopping for food to escape Geralt’s wretched thoughts, and he felt bad for riding her so hard. 

“Treats for you,” he said. “And the finest stable in Oxenfurt, I swear it. Just get me there.”

Roach didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t even need Geralt to nudge her into a gallop, she turned and ran, bolting across the damp earth like a streak of lighting. Jaskier surely would have called her a heroic steed. Geralt would be sure to tell him, just as soon as he was at Oxenfurt. 

Geralt’s heart felt lighter already. He was racing, the wind in his hair, rippling across his face. He wasn’t leaving Jaskier, he’d never leave him again, not ever. He’d bundle him in all the finest things, armor him with dragon scale if he had to. 

Jaskier would sit by the fire in Kaer Morhen and Vesemir would teach him the old songs. Geralt would hunt for him, buy him baked goods, make him fat and happy and shining through and through with joy. And if he got old Geralt would love him. If Jaskier grew too old to travel, Geralt would stay in Kaer Morhen year-round. He’d carry Jaskier up stairs if he had to. He’d learn to play music if Jaskier ever couldn’t play anymore, he’d tap out rhythms if his husband ever went deaf.

His husband. Geralt loved him. He loved him so much and his eyes were streaming. It was so rare that a witcher could cry but he was. He loved his husband so much that this one day without him had been the worst of his life. He’d thought it had been seeing Jaskier hurt, fearing him dying. That had been awful, but if death took Jaskier from him, Geralt would fight death itself. 

There was a story, he knew, of a bard who took his love back from death, leading her from the underworld. He’d looked back, so the story said, to make sure his love was still with him. Geralt was a witcher, though, he wouldn’t need to look to know Jaskier was there. 

Jaskier being gone from his life was an almost unbearable thought, but Geralt could live with it. If Jaskier died or left of his own accord, Geralt would survive. To push him away, however, to be the reason Jaskier left him, that was unbearable. 

Roach’s legs moved like a landslide under her, hoofbeats so fast they merged into one. Geralt’s slow heart matched pace. He would go, he would lay himself prone on the floor of wherever Jaskier stayed, and he would beg forgiveness.

He would earn his forgiveness. 

And if Jaskier ever forgave him, and if he ever returned Geralt’s feelings, Geralt would kiss him. 

The thought gave him wings. 

He would kiss Jaskier. He’d wind his hand in that thick, dark hair, loop the other arm around his waist, and dip him back, the way fancy gentlemen did. He’d kiss him the way he should have kissed him on their wedding day. He’d kiss Jaskier so that there could be no doubt in his husband’s mind that he was the most important person in Geralt’s life. And then he’d kiss him again, and again, and again. 

Geralt would learn about poetry and art and music so that Jaskier had someone to discuss it with. He’d teach him witcher lore and monster zoology, so that they had the knowledge in common. He’d teach Jaskier to fight, not just bar fighting, he’d be able to defend himself if Geralt ever failed him.

Geralt was never going to fail him again. 

The lights of Oxenfurt were visible. When Geralt had last raced to the city Jaskier had been wounded by bandits. Now, his heart had been wounded by Geralt’s own hand. 

He pulled out his xenovox, pressing it desperately. 

“What?” she snapped. “It’s almost midnight, can’t you go a day without bothering me?”

“Where is he?” Geralt asked. “Where is he staying?”

“You just got rid of him, now you want him back?” 

“Yes, Yennefer it was a mistake, I can’t lose him where is he? Tell me!”

“Essi Daven has a placement at the university, she may have quarters there, ask her.”

Geralt didn’t even thank Yennefer, just stuffed the xenovox in his bag and turned Roach, her ironshod hooves ringing against the cobbles. 

The bulk of the university lay across the city like an old dog lying on a rug. Geralt headed for the living quarters, dodging Roach around drunken students and midnight revellers, sometimes the same people. 

A man was sweeping in a quiet courtyard. 

“You,” Geralt called, almost falling off Roach in his haste. “Essi Daven, where can I find her?” 

The man looked up, eyed Geralt with distaste, and pointed toward a wing of the building. Here, there were doors, facing the coutyard, each door marked with a name. 

Yes, dormitories. 

Geralt ran up the row. They were organized by name, two on each door. He’d started at the wrong end. He passed Willow and Worthington, Umber and Urdock, Smith and Silverly. He sped up. Marx and Mannock, Lee and Lorntin...

He skidded to a stop.

Davidson and Daven. He hammered on the door, shaking it on it’s hinges until it was swung open. 

There was a small woman there, glaring at him behind a mane of golden hair. Only one eye was visible. 

“What do you want?”

“Essi Daven?”

Like a snake, she stepped forward, into Geralt’s space, putting a long knife to his throat. 

“You’re here for Jaskier,” she said. 

“I made a mistake,” Geralt said. “I need to see him.”

“You don’t need to do anything but leave him alone,” she hissed. “I ought to slice you open like a pig.”

“I want to make it up to him,” Geralt begged. “I have to, please, I love him.”

“You abandoned him,” she said like poison. 

“And if I do it again I swear I will deliver myself to your door so you can gut me with your knife but please,” Geralt reached up a hand and lowered her knife, which she allowed him to do without stabbing him. “Please, if I lose him because I was stupid and drove him away, I think I’ll just have to lay down and die.”

“He’s crazy about you,” Essi said, eyes narrowed. 

“I’m crazier for him, I promise,” Geralt said. His heart was soaring. Jaskier was crazy about him.

“He cried his eyes out all day,” Essi said. Geralt’s heart landed with a thud. 

“Let me make it up to him,” Geralt said. “Please.”

“You’re going to need more than a pretty face.”

“I’ll do anything.”

Essi snorted. “He’s not here, he’s at the Fiddler’s Bow inn. If he wants to see you, go ahead, if he doesn’t leave him the fuck alone.”

Geralt nodded solemnly. 

He had to find something that would show Jaskier how he felt. Something perfect. He mounted Roach again and she nickered questioningly. 

“What do you get someone you love?” Geralt asked her quietly. 

She whinnied. “Oats,” she was probably saying. “And a nice stable.”

Geralt rode her down streets, ambling rather than searching for the inn. He’d find it, but he needed the perfect gift first.

He’d know what he needed when he saw it. 

Oxenfurt never slept, but many of the shops had closed for the night. Geralt trotted Roach past them, until he saw one. It had a large, paned glass display window, an expensive luxury. Inside were weapons of all makes and sizes. 

Geralt thought about purchasing a dagger for Jaskier, but daggers weren’t special enough. They were a good gift, not a great one. Geralt dismounted and peered through the glass. A light was on in the back, and he knocked at the door. 

There were shields and axes in the shop, but the lacked the grace that Geralt wanted. There were swords, some covered in jewels, which were certainly beautiful enough, but the decoration would throw off the balance. 

Geralt heard clattering from inside.

A little old man opened up the shop door, peering up at Geralt.

“You’re a mighty big fella,” he said. “Witcher are ya? I’m closed you know.”

“I know, sir,” Geralt said. “I apologize, but it’s a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Ah, broken a sword have you?” Said the old man, sticking his hand out to shake. His grip was like iron, despite his age. He was definitely the swordsmith, then. 

“No sir, I need a gift, true love is on the line,” it was a horribly florid thing to say, but Geralt couldn’t bear to lie to the old man, who reminded him oddly of Vesemir, despite his bent posture and small size.

“Ah, dueling for her honor?” asked the smith, hobbling to one of the display stands.

“No, sir. Begging his forgiveness.”

“Do you deserve to be forgiven?”

“...maybe,” Geralt said, reluctantly. 

“Aha!” Said the shopkeeper. “Slept with someone else have you?”

“No!”

“Lied to him?”

“Not that I can think of.”

The man leaned close, strangely pale eyes searching. “Killed someone he cares for?”

“Never, I...I abandoned him. I left him alone, I shouldn’t have,” Geralt admitted.

The old man tutted. “Not the easiest mistake to remedy, young man.” 

Geralt realized that he and the man were probably fairly close in age. 

“But,” the man said. “Not without hope, I think. And you want to give him a weapon?”

“Yes,” Geralt said, mouth dry. “Something that can keep him safe.”

“In case you can’t?” 

Geralt flinched. “Yes.”

“Is he a warrior like yourself, your young man?”

“A poet and bard, but he can fight as well.”

“Mhhm,” said the old man, running his hands over his stock. “He likes fine things?”

“Yes, but not at the expense of practicality.”

“Indeed,” said the man. “And he is right handed?”

“Left handed,” Geralt said. 

“Aha,” said the man, softly. “I have just the sword.” He lifted a long, thin blade from a rack. 

“It’s an unusual style,” he said, holding it out in both hands. “A rapier, it’s called. They’re thin and light, and this,” he held the sword by it’s handle, a strange, twisting cage of metal protecting his hand. “This crosspiece will keep his poet’s fingers from damage.”

“I’ve never seen it’s like,” Geralt said, carefully taking the proffered sword. “It’s so thin, will it break if he parries?”

“It is unlikely, the blade is damascarine steel, the blow will merely deflect down to the crosspiece.”

Geralt observed the blade, witcher eyes letting inn all the light from the dim shop so he could see the wavy pattern in the thin blade where the steel had been twisted and folded back on itself. 

He turned from the shopkeeper and raised the sword, feeling it’s balance. Much too light for him, but for Jaskier...Geralt turned the sword tip-down and measured the height of the crosspiece. Yes, it would be about at Jaskier’s belly button, the right length. 

“It’s perfect,” Geralt said. The sword looked like a line of moonlight, the handle was elegant with it’s swooping, twisting lines, and it was deadly. It was Jaskier, through and through.

The moonlight coming in through the windows glinted off the sword as the man took it back, gently, sheathing it in a smooth, black leather sheath. 

Geralt paid the asking price without haggle. For the craftsmanship, and opening his shop in the middle of the night, the price was more than fair. He would have gladly paid double, he’d never seen an equal to the sword he carried now.

Geralt didn’t hold it like a sword as he remounted Roach. He held the rapier flat across his knees like an offering to the gods. 

He stayed there a moment, astride his horse, and closed his eyes. He breathed in. He breathed out. He was about to open his eyes but...there, chamomile and sun-dried grass. 

He opened his eyes, afraid the action would dissipate the scent, but it was still there. Jaskier had been nearby. 

He trotted Roach forward, seeing with his nose. He lost the scent by an irreputable ale house that smelled of sick and stale beer, so he turned and looked around. There was another tavern down the street and he rode towards it slowly. Music poured from it, even at this late hour. Jaskier would have come here, instead of the other alehouse. 

Up alongside the tavern he could smell dry grass again, mixed with salt. Jaskier had cried here, but the salt-scent left, trailing down the street. 

Geralt’s heart was heavy as he followed the smell of his husband’s tears. He’d done this, he had to fix it, and he had just the one chance. It couldn’t wait until morning. If the sun dawned and this wasn’t fixed, Geralt just knew he’d have lost his chance, Jaskier would be lost to him forever. 

The tears stopped. 

Geralt loked up. 

The Fiddler’s Bow. He didn’t even speak to the innkeeper as he walked up the stairs and gently knocked on the door. 

He could hear the familiar beat of Jaskier’s heart behind it. His own tried to match time. 

A bedraggled and red eyed Jaskier opened the door. Geralt knelt and took one of Jaskier’s hand’s in both of his. 

For a second that was all there was. 

Then Geralt spoke. 

“I was a fool,” he said. “I saw you, hurt, and I was frightened, because I hadn’t been able to protect you.”

Jaskier tried to pull his hand from Geralt’s grasp, but Geralt didn’t let go. “Please, Jaskier,” he said, gold eyes meeting blue. “Hear me out, and then if you never wish to see me again I swear on the medallion at my throat you will never have to.”

Words weren’t easy for Geralt, but he prayed he’d be granted just a sliver of the power Jaskier had over them. This was more than life or death, this was love or loss, and Geralt couldn’t bear to lose this.

“I am in love with you,” Geralt said, looking Jaskier straight in the eyes. “The thought of losing you scared me so badly that I turned like a coward and ran, but,” Geralt swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The thought of losing you,” a sob, “Because I pushed you away, Jaskier, it’s so much worse.”

He pulled out the sword in it’s scabbard, placing it tip down on the floor and holding it like a cross. “I want to teach you to fight, so that you can’t be taken from me, and I want you to teach me to sing, so that you won’t grow bored of me.”

“Please,” Jaskier,” he said, shoulders trembling. “I swear on my soul, I swear on the soulds of the men who raised me, I will never abandon you again.”

Jaskier was crying, rivers of saltwater, silver in the moonlight, trailing down his cheeks. A drop fell on Geralt’s hand as he proffered the sword. 

“I love you,” Geralt said simply. 

Jaskier stood there and cried, chest wracked with sobs. Then he took the sword in both hands. His fingertips brushed across the back of Geralt’s hand and the witcher shivered. 

“You kissed her.”

“The Law of Surprise,” Geralt said. “I had just pledged my devotion and care to you, it was your great windfall. We thought it meant I love her, but I don’t.” Geralt stood, reaching forward one large and travel-stained hand to brush the tears from Jaskier’s cheeks. 

“The kiss just made me realize how much I never want to kiss anyone but you, ever again.”

Jaskier leaned his cheek into the cradle of Geralt’s hand. “I forgive you,” he said. 

Geralt stepped forward, taking Jaskier’s sword and setting it aside, then he wrapped his arms around Jaskier, admiring how they were of a height. 

Jaskier leaned his forhead against Geralt’s, and the pair just stood, breathing the same air. 

“I love you too.”

It was whispered, but it shook Geralt’s world. 

Jaskier’s arms came up and twined around Geralt’s neck, drawing him even close. 

“Please,” Geralt begged. “May I kiss you?”

He felt Jaskier nod. 

Geralt had imagined a kiss on his desperate return. He’d imagined how Jaskier’s hair would be so soft under his hand, how Jaskier’s arms would feel so warm around him, he’d been right. 

He could never have imagined the wonder of kissing Jaskier, though, not truly. Joy flared in Geralt’s heart like a wildfire, consuming him. The world burned around them and Geralt didn’t care because having Jaskier in his arms, kissing him like this, this was the only thing he could ever want. 

This was everything the kiss on their wedding day wasn’t and should have been. All the sounds of the city rushed in Geralt’s ears and he didn’t hear any of them, because Jaskier’s lips were sweet and warm and slightly chapped, and Jaskier’s hand was digging oddly into his ribs, and it was perfection. 

                                                   🐺 🌼 🐺

Almost done! I think there will maybe be one more chapter to tie up all the loose ends. Although I suspect at some point I’ll be unable to resist writing some husbands-in-Kaer-Morhen fluff. 

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[thesmpisonfire]

Eret wokes up with an explosion.

They don't even think before jumping from his bed and grabbing the sword and the sunglasses, running in the cold halls. "They came back." Her mind is shouting. "George wants the castle again." The ex-monarch takes a turn, heading to one of the castle's guest room. George gave him time to move out! This was not fair, especially without a goddamn warning!

She shakes her head, focusing on a more important topic for now. Fundy. His newly adopted son-but-in-fact-more-like-a-younger-brother was with him for almost a week now, and Eret promissed him that he would be safe there, no more wars or damage.

They storm into Fundy's bedroom, just to find it empty. They can feel panic running on their body just like cold water as they start to run again. No. No. No. He promised Fundy that nothing bad would happen, and he was dead serious with that promise. She runs to the entrance of the castle, armor on and sword in hand, ready to fight for Fundy's safety...

There's no attack.

Well, there's a big hole in one of the walls, the debris scattered around after the explosion. There's still small fires on the burned grass, but nothing serious.

Sitting right on front of it, was Fundy.

The fox was with a flint n' steel in hand, lighting it up and then closing it, just to repeat the cycle. He wasn't moving, his stare lost in someplace beyond the hole. He kept that loop, the fire cackling and the flint n' steel noises completing each other in a strange melody.

Eret approached him, putting a hand on Fundy's shoulder. That seemed to 'woke up' the fox, who stared at the ex-monarch with fear before looking back at the destruction. Eret couldn't stop noticing another tnt, unlighted, right in front of Fundy.

"Eret!" He sounded so scared, getting up and trying to keep his friend far from the fire that was slowly dying out. "I-I'm... I'm sorry!" His voice was shaking, and Eret could tell that he had been crying that night.

"I didn't mean to explode your home!" But that was exactly what Fundy did. He destroyed it. Without any good explanation besides his own fear. Fundy tried to hold the tears, the hands that were pushing Eret away were now gripping his shirt, not wanting him to leave. "I was... I was..." Fundy started to cry again, fear consuming him with the realization that Eret was about to kick him out because of his actions.

"Fundy, what's happened?" Eret used a serious tone, but held Fundy's arms carefully, hoping that it'd wouldn't scare him.

Fundy blinked twice or thrice, cleaning his face with his hands. "I had a nightmare..." He choked out, his face wet. "I- I was here... At the garden." He gestures towards the small flower camp that Niki and Puffy had started a couple of days ago. "And... Techno came in..."

Fundy was running from his own uncle since people said Techno would hunt him down. Their paths hadn't cross since Wilbur's death, and Fundy wasn't looking forward to it. Techno must be on the hunt for him, right? He was a fucking orphan now.

"A-and... Wilbur was with him." Fundy started to shake, not even feeling Eret holding him. "He was alive and..." He whimpered, gripping on Eret's shirt. "He blew everything up again." He cried. "The castle was all gone. Everything was gone. He destroyed everything again, Eret!"

Fundy started to hyperventilate, his eyes unfocused and the image of his nightmare clear in his mind.

Wilbur holding him by his collar, looking at his own son with a maniac smile. 'I despise you, Fundy.' He could hear the whisper. 'Do you really thought that the stupid diary could make what you have done to me?' Wilbur let Fundy go, dropping him on the ground. 'You don't deserve a home, Fundy. Not a traitor like you.' He let out a dry laugh, turning his back and walking away from the destruction. 'Techno, you can do the honors.' The fox only stared at the anarchist, who pointed a crossbow right at his face.

Eret only could listen to Fundy, sometimes changing his look to the hole on his way before going back to the fox. How the two things were connected?

"When I woke up..." Fundy whispered, his voice sounding more tired than seconds before. "I needed to make sure the walls were strong enough to protect us..." He laughed, looking up to Eret. "And they aren't." Fundy looked at the hole, showing it to his friend. "They went down with a single tnt!" He laughed again, tears falling even more.

"Fucking Ghostbur can come here and explode it all!" Fundy now was with both hands in his ginger hair, tugging it. "Techno can burst through the entrance and kill us!" His laugh was desperate, looking back at Eret, who only stared at Fundy. "They'll destroy my home again, Eret! Wilbur used to fucking hate me!" He sobbed again, all his repressed feelings coming out at once. "Ghostbur certainly hates me too! He doesn't even remember me!" He kept shouting his worries, the flint n' steel back to his hand. When did it got there again?

"He will take it all down again and he'll hurt you and you'll hate me because its all my fault and..." His words started to merge together, not even having time to breathe again. All he could think is that Eret was going to leave him too, everyone did. Wilbur, Schlatt.... Philza hated him, didn't he? The same with Techno.

Fundy could almost hear someone calling for him, two soft hands holding his face, but the fox wasn't listening. There was no safe place for him. No. Wilbur would always find him. Wilbur would find him and take it all down again. And then no one would care. Because no one ever did-

"FUNDY!" The shout made Fundy almost scream, suddenly back to the present. Eret was holding his face, the glow in their eyes brighter due to their worry. Fundy sobbed, holding one of Eret's hand and leaning his face against the soft palm. Even if it was temporary, Fundy wanted to enjoy it. Enjoy being part of a family again.

Eret hugs him tightly, and Fundy finds himself hiding in the curve of their neck, quickly returning the hug. All his panic and paranoia slowed down, giving place to the warm comfort Eret was giving to him, securing the fox in their arms.

"I'll never leave you, Fundy. And I'm no capable to hate you. I adopt you, remember?" The ex-monarch whispered, trying to calm his friend... His scared and hurt brother. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again, not even Techno will be able to pass through me." Eret looks at Fundy's face, smiling a little and cleaning his tears. Fundy chuckled, now looking at the mess he had done.

"We can fix these walls tomorrow... Okay?" Eret reassured him, now hugging Fundy by his side. "For now... We can try to call Niki and Puffy! Try to cook some stuff, what about that?"

The fox was smiling again, joining with jokes while they walked back into the castle. He was grateful to have Eret in his life, someone who still loved him, no matter what.

Outside of the hole, there was a shadow wearing a yellow sweater. He was attracted by the explosion sound just like a moth towards the light. He heard it all and, when he started to make his way back to his sewer, only one thing was stuck in his mind.

"What I've done to my son?"

[wienerbarnes]

Much Ado About Nothing (5/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,747

Warnings: none! wedding stuff? 

A/N: happy new year yall hope everyone had a safe one! das all imma say tho im keeping my mouth shut about 2021 i aint risking shit anyway enjoy this chapter :P

MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST

For being given a week, the ballroom looks immaculate. Satin drapes and tablecloths of cream and white cover the room, gold and olive green accents strewn throughout. The handful of tables in the room have large centerpieces of small white flowers, thin branches, and delicate leaves, as well as a lace trim around the vase they rest in. A warm toned light makes the room look bigger than it is and the dancefloor welcoming for everyone.

The wedding guests include the team, of course, some of Sharon’s family that were able to make it in such short notice, and anyone’s dates were welcomed. Sam brought a date himself, Sharon extended the invitation to some agents she’d been training over the last few months, and she told you invite those who worked in the lab with you.

She insisted, in fact.

Sharon banished you and Nat to the ballroom, while she finished getting ready, wanting to have a few minutes by herself before the wedding started. You assume Steve felt similarly when you see Sam and Bucky enter the ballroom and merge together with the rest of the team. You linger by the bar, hoping to get a bit of liquid courage before the party starts, but to your dismay, the bar doesn’t open until after the ceremony.

You also don’t want to take a seat because you’ll be one of Sharon’s bridesmaids, along with Nat. You and her wear matching warm brown dresses with a slit on the side, tying in with the neutral and woodsy tones going on throughout the rest of the wedding. Sam and Bucky wear brown bow ties and you assume they’re taking the role of Steve’s groomsmen. You pray you don’t have to walk with Bucky.

As more and more people take their seats, you find Nat and meet the other boys at the back of the room.

“Sam already claimed me.” She tells you cheekily as she loops her arm through Sam’s bent elbow.

Of course he did. You sigh and begrudgingly loop your own arm through Bucky’s as he smirks. While the group of you wait for the music to start to indicate your time to begin walking, you take in the man standing next to you.

He smells crisp and clean, his cologne smelling fresh and flooding your senses with lavender, rosemary, and cedarwood. His bicep is ginormous in your hand and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him through his suit jacket that he wears. He cleans up really nicely. Not that you’ll tell him, but you’ll definitely be thinking about it for the rest of the night.

Bucky’s mind goes through a similar thought process. Your skin is shiny and smooth, and he imagines you applied lotion while getting ready with the other girls. Maybe there hints of glitter in whatever cream you use, because to him, it looks like you’re glowing. You smell like the sweetest of roses and juiciest of fruits, and you look good enough for him to take a bite. He won’t give you the satisfaction of a compliment - God knows the argument that would lead to - but he imprints this vision of you in his mind to remember.

Finally, Steve enters the ballroom and makes his way towards the front of the room and any few people left standing take their seats. As people settle, Steve adjusts his jacket and glances over the room to take in all of his loved ones in one room. He glances over to where John sits alongside Leila and Kennedy, the two other lab interns that work under you, he’s come to learn about. He briefly wonders what John is thinking about, if he thinks his plan worked, if he thinks Steve is going to cause a huge scene in front of everyone, accusing Sharon of cheating in some big explosion. He wonders what John’s reaction will be when he witnesses him marry the most beautiful woman in the world, kissing her to solidify their love.

He can’t wait.

Soon enough the music starts and Nat and Sam begin down the aisle, you and Bucky following after. For someone that has hated the idea of love for so long, walking down the aisle like this feels really great. You’re not sure if it's the anticipation for the bride, or the decorations, or the huge hunk of handsome soldier guiding you down to the front of the room, but it makes you feel tingly all over. Almost makes you want a wedding of your own. Almost.

As Bucky makes his way down the aisle with you on his arm, he meets Steve’s eye, who gives him a smirk that looks a lot like I told you so. He ignores it, though. He knows he’ll get picked on later, but for now, he enjoys having you so close to him. You’re close to him outside of the lab, outside of a mission, outside of an argument. You’re close to him, holding onto his arm like you’re his girl in a sweet silence. He can almost get used to this. Almost.

Once everyone’s in their place, the rest of the guests rise as the music changes and Sharon enters the ballroom. Her dress is beautiful; a lacy brassiere top to connect the flowing train, all of the silk following her walk, making her elegant and glowing. Her hair is lightly curled and there are a few white flowers pinned around the back of her head, matching the rest of the room.

The officiant reads everything they have to and Steve and Sharon share their vows, causing everyone in the room to shed a tear or two. Nat and Sam find it particularly amusing to see you and Bucky wipe a few tears as well, seeming to get foggy eyed in spite of their hatred for love. They’re too busy silently teasing their friends to notice the fume coming from John’s ears, realizing his plan didn’t work the way he wanted it to.

There’s still time, he thinks. Maybe Steve didn’t want to make a big, public fuss. Yeah, once everything is over, he’ll take her upstairs and they’ll talk and soon enough they’ll announce that they’re marriage is over! Shorter than the Kardashians.

Finally, Steve and Sharon kiss to seal their marriage, sharing their official first kiss as husband and wife. Cheers and clapping erupt in the room as the couple makes their way back down the aisle, Nat, Sam, you, and Bucky following after. The lights dim a bit and the bar opens as the music changes to encourage people to mingle and dance until the couple emerges once more.

“What’s the matter, don’t like weddings?” You tease John, coming up behind him, your voice making him jump from leaning against the bar the way he was.

“Uh - No, not really.” He says, turning to face you, feeling awkward as he talks to his boss after trying to sabotage her best friend’s wedding.

“They grow on you.” Bucky’s deep voice makes him jump once more as it comes behind him, forcing him to turn away from you and face him, staring at his towering stance.

“Uhm -” John stumbles as he realizes he’s cornered against the bar by you and Bucky.

“Did you really think you’d get away with it? I mean, you’re surrounded by spies and an artificial intelligence system that records everything in the tower.” Bucky tells him.

John’s eyes widen as they glance between you and Bucky, realizing where he went wrong in his plan. I should’ve figured out a way to hack F.R.I.D.A.Y.! Or at least get rid of any footage of what I did!

“Not to mention the fact that Steve and Sharon are too disgustingly in love with each other to even fall for the kind of charade you put on. In my lab, nonetheless,” You add, “Some kind of unfunny joke by an ex-lab intern.”

“Ex?” John confirms.

“Oh, yea. Leila and Kennedy, too. I don’t want to waste my time training and giving experience and advice to the kind of people that lie, play around, and cause mischief in a lab and in a tower where some of the most important and delicate information in the world is handled. If I wanted that, I’d have Barnes, here, as an intern.” You tell him.

“Hey, I thought we were on the same team here -” Bucky tries to interject, but you smack his arm to get him back into the focus of their conversation with John.

“Anyway,” Bucky continues, “Why don’t you do us the favor of getting out of here? We’ll tell Steve and Sharon that you’re sorry you weren’t feelin’ well and had to head out early. Unless, you’d like for me to get them and bring ‘em over here?” He slings an arm over John’s shoulder, leading him over to one of the exit doors, as John nods his head in agreement, accepting his defeat.

Once John has left and the wedding is officially safe again, Bucky meets you back at where you wait at the bar.

“Nice job, McGeek.” He tells you, leaning on the bar next to you as you turn to face him better.

“Could say the same to you. He looked real scared there at the end.” You giggle.

“He should be, he almost got Steve’s ass kicked by me when Sharon first told us the whole situation.” Bucky tells you, leaning just a bit closer to you.

The bartender comes over to them asking what they’d like to drink. “Whiskey, neat, please. How bout you, Geeky?” Bucky says.

“Vodka cran.” You order.

“Really? That’s your drink of choice?” Bucky teases.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, I thought you’d pick a drink that’s actually good, is all.”

“And here I was revelling in the fact that this was the longest conversation we’ve had where we’re not at each other’s throats.” You tell him.

“Well -” Bucky’s cut off by the dimming of the lights and change in music as Sharon and Steve enter the room again to share their first dance.

His words are forgotten as he watches his best friend dance with his bride, the two of them looking happier than Bucky’s ever seen. Bucky feels a smile bloom on his own face as he watches on; he’s so happy for Steve. He knows this is all he’s ever wanted. The girl, the marriage, the house together, the kids in the future. The happy ending. And he’s happy that despite things - or people - trying to get in the way of that, Steve still got the happy ending he deserves.

He peeks over to see you have a similar smile, admiring the love shared between your best friend and his. He gets lost staring at you as the DJ is heard inviting anyone else to join the newlyweds on the dancefloor.

He asks before his brain can filter his mouth, “Do you want to dance?”

Your head snaps over at him, a surprised expression on your face, and Bucky prepares for you to make fun of him.

“Sure.” You tell him.

He doesn’t risk saying anything that might change your mind, only grabbing your hand softly and leading you to the dancefloor where other couples have begun to fill in. The slow music continues as his hands find their place on the curve of your waist and yours rest on the tops of his shoulders. He feels warmth and tingles flow from the placement of your hands through his suit jacket, down his arms, and through his entire body. He looks at you and how close your face is to his, quite enjoying having you so close in his arms like this.

“Do you remember what we were talking about last night?” She finally breaks the silence.

He hums in indication that he does and for her to continue, “So, you really don’t hate me or anything?” You ask.

“No. I don’t. Actually,” He chuckles humorlessly, “I know you like me.” He confesses.

Tension floods your body. How does he know?! “No, I don't! Not anymore than reasonable, I mean.” You deny.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his body still swaying with yours with the music, “Oh. Well, you have Steve and Sam fooled, then, because they, uh, had me convinced.” He tells you, trying to play off his incorrect assumption.

“Do you like me?” You ask, drawing yourself just a bit closer to him, his arms moving from your waist to the small of your back.

“Uh, no, no more than a friend, I mean.” Bucky lies.

“Oh. Well, you have Sharon and Nat fooled, as well.” You tell him.

The two of you chuckle softly with each other at the whole situation, an attempt to hide the disappointment in each of your chests at the thought of unrequited feelings. Bucky glances back up to meet your eyes once more, eyes flickering down to look at your lips, in time to see you take your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth. He looks back up at your eyes to catch you staring at his own lips. When your eyes meet his again, it's as though the two of you have a silent understanding. An understanding that you were both lying, and an understanding that you both really want to kiss each other right now.

So he does. Bucky leans in seemingly at the same time you do and presses his lips against yours in a sweet yet fiery kiss. His hands push a little harder into your back to bring you closer and your hands move to touch his neck and cheek, ensuring that his face won’t leave yours anytime soon. Everyone in the room has since disappeared; there are no wedding guests, there are no decorations, there is no music, only you and Bucky.

His lips are soft, softer than you were expecting, and he tastes of peppermint and the sip of whiskey he had, all mixed with a taste that’s so him. His taste and his smell and the feel of his hands on your back and his chest against yours makes you want to melt to the ground in a puddle of mush. You can’t believe you waited so long to kiss him.

Your lips are plump and soft. Your lipstick is fruity but he can taste the sweetness of cranberry behind it and a sweetness that’s all you. You’re the rarest candy he’s ever tried and he’s not sure he’ll ever get enough of it. A part of his mind wants to ignore that they’re still in public, though it certainly doesn’t feel like it, and just kiss you silly for the rest of time.

The two of you finally pull away after what feels like forever and you both can’t help but lick at your own lips, savoring the taste of each other. Before either of you can say anything to follow what just happened, another voice interrupts, “About time.”

You both turn to see Tony and Pepper, her with an admiring smile and Tony with a shit-eating grin. The two of you feel warm as you realize the rest of your friends that occupy the dancefloor are also staring at the both of you. Nat smirks from her place in Bruce’s arms, Sam winks at Bucky over the shoulder of his date, and Sharon and Steve are almost on the verge of happy tears at the sight of their best friends finally getting to be happy with each other. Even Clint and his wife smile at the two of you.

“What are you guys looking at, huh? Never seen a guy and gal dance together?” Bucky barks, Brooklyn accent slipping out as he chooses to pretend none of them saw the kiss that you and him shared.

“Not you two.” Steve says.

“Oh, whatever! What are you guys, five years old?” Bucky asks only to be met with his friends giggling.

“Whatever. Make fun of us all you want. I don’t care.” You speak up, curling your hands around the back of Bucky’s neck.

He looks back at you to meet your kind eyes with a gentle smile. Their friends continue to tease on, but you and Bucky only have eyes for each other. He ignores them and chooses to kiss you again, already craving the taste of your lips on his and the feel of your body in his arms.

[desthesleepdeprivedwriter]

Ghosts and Nightmares

Eret wokes up with an explosion.

They don't even think before jumping from their bed and grabbing the sword and the sunglasses, running in the cold halls. "They came back." Their mind is shouting. "George wants the castle again." The ex-monarch takes a turn, heading to one of the castle's guest room. George gave them time to move out! This was not fair, especially without a goddamn warning!

They shake their head, focusing on a more important topic for now. Fundy. Their newly adopted son was with them for almost a week now, and Eret promised him that he would be safe there, no more wars or damage.

They storm into Fundy's bedroom, just to find it empty. They can feel panic running on their body just like cold water as they start to run again. No. No. No. He promised Fundy that nothing bad would happen, and they were dead serious with that promise. They run to the entrance of the castle, armor on and sword in hand, ready to fight for Fundy's safety...

There's no attack.

Well, there's a big hole in one of the walls, the debris scattered around after the explosion. There's still small fires on the burned grass, but nothing serious.

Sitting right on front of it, was Fundy.

The fox was with a flint n' steel in hand, lighting it up and then closing it, just to repeat the cycle. He wasn't moving, his stare lost in someplace beyond the hole. He kept that loop, the fire cackling and the flint n' steel noises completing each other in a strange melody.

Eret approached him, putting a hand on Fundy's shoulder. That seemed to 'woke up' the fox, who stared at the ex-monarch with fear before looking back at the destruction. Eret couldn't stop noticing another tnt, unlighted, right in front of Fundy.

"Eret!" He sounded so scared, getting up and trying to keep his friend far from the fire that was slowly dying out. "I-I'm... I'm sorry!" His voice was shaking, and Eret could tell that he had been crying that night.

"I didn't mean to explode your home!" But that was exactly what Fundy did. He destroyed it. Without any good explanation besides his own fear. Fundy tried to hold the tears, the hands that were pushing Eret away were now gripping his shirt, not wanting him to leave. "I was... I was..." Fundy started to cry again, fear consuming him with the realization that Eret was about to kick him out because of his actions.

"Fundy, what's happened?" Eret used a serious tone, but held Fundy's arms carefully, hoping that it'd wouldn't scare him.

Fundy blinked twice or thrice, cleaning his face with his hands. "I had a nightmare..." He choked out, his face wet. "I- I was here... At the garden." He gestures towards the small flower camp that Niki and Puffy had started a couple of days ago. "And... Techno came in..."

Fundy was running from his own uncle since people said Techno would hunt him down. Their paths hadn't cross since Wilbur's death, and Fundy wasn't looking forward to it. Techno must be on the hunt for him, right? He was a fucking orphan now.

"A-and... Wilbur was with him." Fundy started to shake, not even feeling Eret holding him. "He was alive and..." He whimpered, gripping on Eret's shirt. "He blew everything up again." He cried. "The castle was all gone. Everything was gone. He destroyed everything again, Eret!"

Fundy started to hyperventilate, his eyes unfocused and the image of his nightmare clear in his mind.

Wilbur holding him by his collar, looking at his own son with a maniac smile. 'I despise you, Fundy.' He could hear the whisper. 'Do you really thought that the stupid diary could make what you have done to me?' Wilbur let Fundy go, dropping him on the ground. 'You don't deserve a home, Fundy. Not a traitor like you.' He let out a dry laugh, turning his back and walking away from the destruction. 'Techno, you can do the honors.' The fox only stared at the anarchist, who pointed a crossbow right at his face.

Eret only could listen to Fundy, sometimes changing their stare to the hole on his way before going back to the fox. How the two things were connected?

"When I woke up..." Fundy whispered, his voice

sounding more tired than seconds before. "I needed to make sure the walls were strong enough to protect us..." He laughed, looking up to Eret. "And they aren't." Fundy looked at the hole, showing it to his friend. "They went down with a single tnt!" He laughed again, tears falling even more.

"Fucking Ghostbur can come here and explode it all!" Fundy now was with both hands in his ginger hair, tugging it. "Techno can burst through the entrance and kill us!" His laugh was desperate, looking back at Eret, who only stared at Fundy. "They'll destroy my home again, Eret! Wilbur used to fucking hate me!" He sobbed again, all his repressed feelings coming out at once. "Ghostbur certainly hates me too! He doesn't even remember me!" He kept shouting his worries, the flint n' steel back to his hand. When did it got there again?

"He will take it all down again and he'll hurt you and you'll hate me because its all my fault and..." His words started to merge together, not even having time to breathe again. All he could think is that Eret was going to leave him too, everyone did. Wilbur, Schlatt.... Philza hated him, didn't he? The same with Techno.

Fundy could almost hear someone calling for him, two soft hands holding his face, but the fox wasn't listening. There was no safe place for him. No. Wilbur would always find him. Wilbur would find him and take it all down again. And then no one would care. Because no one ever did-

"FUNDY!" The shout made Fundy almost scream, suddenly back to the present. Eret was holding his face, the glow in their eyes brighter due to their worry. Fundy sobbed, holding one of Eret's hand and leaning his face against the soft palm. Even if it was temporary, Fundy wanted to enjoy it. Enjoy being part of a family again.

Eret hugs him tightly, and Fundy finds himself hiding in the curve of their neck, quickly returning the hug. All his panic and paranoia slowed down, giving place to the warm comfort Eret was giving to him, securing the fox in their arms.

"I'll never leave you, Fundy. And I'm no capable to hate you. I adopt you, remember?" The ex-monarch whispered, trying to calm their friend... Their scared and hurt son. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again, not even Techno will be able to pass through me." Eret looks at Fundy's face, smiling a little and cleaning his tears. Fundy chuckled, now looking at the mess he had done.

"We can fix these walls tomorrow... Okay?" Eret reassured him, now hugging Fundy by his side. "For now... We can try to call Niki and Puffy! Try to cook some stuff, what about that?"

The fox was smiling again, joining with jokes while they walked back into the castle. He was grateful to have Eret in his life, someone who still loved him, no matter what.

Outside of the hole, there was a shadow wearing a yellow sweater. He was attracted by the explosion sound just like a moth towards the light. He heard it all and, when he started to make his way back to his sewer, only one thing was stuck in his mind.

"What I've done to my son?"

Support/Commission me here!

[gohyuck]

pairing: lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, small mention of alcohol, hyuck’s just a little tired of everything, driving (hyuck takes them on a drive)

part of a series?: yes, 37.5% viewer ratings, my hyuck bday celebration

🎵 au revoir - zac greer

☀️ everyone needs a break sometimes

a/n: sasaengs can die by my sword

“you know that this is insane, right?”

donghyuck doesn’t miss the way awe and disbelief couple together in your tone, watching idly as you run a hand over the metal railing of the balcony. he’s sitting, hunched, on the silky sheets of the hotel bed inside the tokyo hotel room you’re both currently situated in. his forearms are balanced on his knees, hands hanging, empty. this directly contrasts you, you note, as you take a sip of your sake.

you’re wearing the shirt you’d worn on the flight - hyuck’s favorite white adidas shirt, though it’s a little loose on you just as it’s loose on him - and some running shorts but your boyfriend has already changed from his comfortable sweats to his current ensemble: a plain black t-shirt tucked into black jeans, held in place with a black belt. his leather jacket, a given, is snug around his shoulders. a white facemask hangs from one of his ears.

the two of you look like yin and yang.

“hyuck?” you ask again, and he nods. “why are we doing this?”

“doing what?” donghyuck asks, finally pushing himself off of the bed. the sheets are crumpled where he’d just been sitting, though they remain pristine everywhere else. he comes up to stand beside you as the two of you look out over the cityscape beneath and in front of you. multicolored lights twinkle brightly against the inky night sky. thousands of people mill around underneath you, and you’re suddenly hit with an immense feeling of wonder.

“fucking off to spend a single night in tokyo before going back. i mean, this is great-” donghyuck rests one hand against your lower back, pulling you closer to him. “-and all but you evaded your managers and only left them a handwritten letter - which, by the way, you never told me what it says - as a means of explanation. there could be a witch-hunt for you going on as we speak.”

“yeah the amount of pissed texts i’ve gotten are insane. thanks for letting your phone die, by the way - i had to assure your mom that you aren’t dead.”

“sorry.” you smile, turning your head to see him. he lets you rest your palm against his cheek, smiling down at you, though his betrayal when you pinch him is immediate.

“what the hell?” he screeches, bounding backwards.

“you still haven’t told me what we’re doing here.” you point out, and it’s all hyuck can do to roll his eyes at you while soothing his now reddened skin.

“the reason is downstairs, actually. that’s what i came out here to tell you, before i got distracted by your brilliant, dazzling self...” your boyfriend nuzzles into the junction where your neck and shoulders meet, and it takes everything in you to gently shove him off.

“forget fullsun, it should’ve been fullshit,” you gripe, taking another sip of your drink before setting the bottle down on the glass table in the corner of the balcony. “because you’re full of-”

“because i’m full of shit,” he finishes, no bite in his words. “yeah. you need to work on your disses. now put your shoes on- we have things to do. and no, i’m not telling you until you see for yourself.”

you stare at him for one beat, then two, before slumping your shoulders in defeat.

“fine,” you mutter, pushing yourself off the balcony to go get ready inside. “this better be good.”

♕ ♕ ♕

“... this might be the most beat up car i’ve ever seen. i didn’t think you could rent cars like this.” you raise an eyebrow at the small, red sedan parked in front of you. there’s a visible dent on the front bumper, and a long scratch underneath one or the taillights. the paint is peeling all over the car. beside you, donghyuck snorts.

“you can’t. it’s one of yuta’s friends’ old car. he was going to straight up give it up for scrap metal, but i begged him to hold off for a couple days so i could drive it. he’s the one who dropped it off here right before we got to this hotel. left the keys at the front desk, i picked them up while getting us checked in.”

“dr-drive it? it looks like it’s about to collapse in on itself.” you take a step back instinctively, and donghyuck grabs your wrist gently.

“do you think i’d ever have you do something unsafe?” he says, forcing you to look into his earnest eyes as he speaks. you shake your head, truthful in your entirety.

“no, but still... you could’ve rented almost anything. why this?”

“because i have a problem, and throwing money at it would both be ironic as hell and make it worse,” he says, dropping your wrist to loop his arm around your waist. he leans down to whisper directly into your ear. “i kind of wanted to be a normal person for a night.”

“you’re being uncharacteristically vulnerable tonight.” you look at hyuck, raising an eyebrow in emphasis. one corner of his mouth upturns as he side-eyes you, albeit kindly, and you can’t help but mold into his side just a bit more.

“can’t be the hot one, the witty one, and the strong one all the time. shoulder the burden a little, baby, damn.” he teases, dodging out of your grasp before you can pull him down and flick him in the forehead. his high-pitched, abrupt laugh is all it takes for the air around you to start feeling more vibrant, and you find yourself giggling along with him. he unlocks the car, moving towards the drivers’ seat while you get into the passenger’s side.

“you know, you haven’t driven me before.” you note while buckling yourself in. donghyuck hums in response, not focusing on you as he backs the car out of its parking spot. it’s only once he’s on the road - a small side road, the kind you didn’t think existed in cities as big and brilliant as tokyo - and cruising easily, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, that he looks over.

“i’ve had my license for a while - jeno, jaemin, renjun and i all sat for ours right when jaemin turned 20 - but i only ever really use it when i’m home for breaks. which sucks, because driving is one of the only things that takes no thought at all.” donghyuck explains, and you realize that, as you’ve been tracing his jawline with your eyes in the moonlight, he’s moved onto a main road and is about to merge onto the shuto expressway.

“i thought you were used to having no thoughts at a-ow! dick!” hyuck pinches the skin of your thigh when you’re right in the middle of making fun of him, forcing you to yelp indignantly. he chuckles at your reaction, smoothing your skin over with the palm of his hand. once he’s fully on the expressway he shifts, pulling his wallet out of his pocket before dropping it into your lap.

“toll is coming up.” he explains, feeling rather than seeing your confused expression. you nod, rifling through his wallet quickly before pulling out one of his cards and letting it dangle between two of your fingers. you’re sure it’ll work, even if the currency differs.

“you never told me why we’re here.” you say eventually. the silence is comfortable, but you still want to satiate your curiosity. the sigh donghyuck lets out in response is just a little too long, a little too pronounced for you to let go, though.

“you already know.” your boyfriend says simply, again uncharacteristically, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his attempt to be cryptic. while you gather your thoughts, he pulls into the toll and pays. still, hyuck isn’t wrong - you do have an idea.

“and you already know i think you should say it for yourself.” you ultimately reply, and you can see donghyuck’s shoulders tense visibly and stay that way for one, two, three long seconds before he forces himself to relax.

“i’m fucking tired.” he says, more conviction behind his words than you’d expected. you can’t say you’re taken aback - he’s always passionate - but you do place your hand on the one that’s on your thigh, squeezing it tightly as you wait for him to continue speaking.

“if i could i’d get out of my head for a week but... we only get a night. there’s ‘fans’-” he airquotes the words against your thigh, his eyes not wavering from the road. “- camped outside our dorms, i haven’t had a chance to rest since, like, february, and i barely have time to breathe without getting dragged online, so it all sucks even more, actually. sometimes i wish i could be ordinary and do ordinary things, but i can’t, and it sucks. everything sucks and everyone sucks.” 

he pauses, taking a long breath before glancing over at you, expression far too soft considering everything he’s just vented about.

“everyone sucks except for you, but that’s a given.”

you don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all. still, you squeeze his hand once more to know that you’ve heard him - that you’ve really, truly heard him. the smile you give him is a genuine one, full of all of the love you’ve ever had, and he returns it with equal intensity. 

“we can worry about your managers and everything tomorrow.” you finally say, and the corners of donghyuck’s lips quirk up. 

“and what about now?” he asks, turning his palm up so you can finally intertwine your fingers with his. you raise your clasped hands to your mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his. as you relax into your seat, you find that you’re enveloped by donghyuck - his scent (leather, fresh linen, cedar, peonies), the way his smile makes you feel, the enormity of his love for you. you can’t help but beam as you look at him, really look at him, before speaking.

“now, we just drive.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Partners Reunited

ISWM Spoilers//

A/N: I finished the “Frozen Route” that involves Illinois finding us and then leaving us in the cryo pod and I’m like MAN why cant we go with him???

So I wanted to expand on the possibility of him recognizing us from Heist.

Soooo yeah! Enjoy! I miss writing this dude and I’m glad he’s back

...................

‘Maybe Celci’s right..maybe it’s meant to end this way.’

It’s ironic.

You’ve broken out of your cryo pod over and over again. God only knows how many times you’ve ended up back in it and immediately charged out to fix your mistakes or approach a problem differently.

Yet..this time you willingly crawled back into one, content with your choice.

The warp device in your palm was still frozen, utterly useless now. No matter how much you clicked, it was officially broken; the crystal lost its glow, having turned a bleak blue color.

There’s no use in trying it anymore.

After you ended up on this path, you’ve come to realize the grim reality of your situation: no matter what choice you made, who you tried to save, or what you did differently....you’re only led back to one of two things:

A light or a warp.

Even finding a planet to colonize wasn’t satisfying enough--despite that being the whole goal of this trip. 

There was always something missing, and whenever you thought you found it....something else happens and you wind up reliving familiar situations.

This was the only unfamiliar situation: Gunther turning the drones on you, Burt merging with the Computer, and Celci controlling everything cryo-related. 

She’s the one who insisted you went to sleep like the others, promising to take care of things.

That was a nice idea..just sleeping. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. No destructive wormholes, time-travel, or armored aliens to deal with.

You could finally get the rest a captain deserves.

In the back of your mind, you thought of Mark. You had no idea if he was dead or merged with some aspect of the ship in this timeline, but you were far too tired to search any further.

This was the best possible “ending” you’ll get.  A way to stop these loops permanently.

It certainly wasn’t the first time your choices ended up screwing with the universe. But you’ll be sure this was the last. Everybody was suffering, even those innocent colonists who dreamed of that planet you vowed to reach.

Your only regret is not fulfilling that promise.

That weighed heavy on your heart as you entered the pod for the final time. The moment the door closed and locked itself, frost began coating your vision, blinding you in a blanket of white.

You’re uncertain what will happen now. Will you finally rest or just be thrown back into a loop?

Somehow..you had doubts. Celci was confident in her words. You trusted her, but couldn’t trust yourself to keep your own crew safe.

Perhaps this was for the best.

Slowly you lost consciousness, letting the cold lull you into deep sleep. In a way this was quite comforting. There wasn’t any noise.

No blaring alarms or Mark’s screaming or anything chaotic.

Just silence.

Blissful silence.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The silence was soon shattered by the sound of something hammering on the pod door. 

It startled you awake only slightly. You had no clue how much time had passed. ‘Is it a rescue team? Or aliens trying to snag our tech?’

As you brushed the frost from your vision, you saw the door open with a loud hiss. Once you could clearly see what’s in front of you, you recognized the mysterious person and became shocked.

You thought you were still dreaming.

That hat....and that adventurous attire...it was him.

“Ah, a mummy!” He exclaimed, not sounding scared at all as he gazed up at you.

Your voice strained to say something, but no sound comes out at first. ‘Shit..must have been in here for a long time if I can’t even talk.’ This was going to be quite annoying if he didn’t recognize you.

So you tried reaching a hand out to him. Though he quickly (yet politely) pushes your hand down, under the assumption you’re some undead alien creature. “Sorry, friend. I don’t have time for your ancient curses.” He remarks, cool as the ice coating the entire ship. “Doesn’t matter how handsome and-or beautiful you used to be.”

Of course, he was flirty as ever. He hasn’t changed a bit.

But when he moves to close the pod, you start to panic and find the strength to lean your full weight against the door.

You changed your mind.

You wanted to live your life, not be stuck in some icy tomb forever.

There were no resets this time around, so...you had a chance to change. To put all of this behind you and start fresh.

He wasn’t Mark, but he was someone you considered a friend. And a friend is all you needed right now.

Illinois was surprised, staring at you with great confusion...and slight irritation at your stubbornness. “Hey now, I know I look like a fresh piece of meat. But I’d rather not get chased by zombies again-"

“I-Illy..”

He blinked. ‘Since when did zombies talk? And how did they know my name?’

Nobody ever called him that, except for...

“Wait..partner? I-Is that you?”

Nodding, you tore off your goggles and mask--both of which were almost stuck to your skin and made you wince slightly afterwards. You dropped them and looked at him, allowing him to see you weren’t some rotting corpse.

“I-In the living flesh.” You rasped with a weak smile.

He almost couldn’t believe it. His own smile grew as he laughed and helped you out of the pod. “Wow..I’ve been terribly mistaken. Y’know I was thinking about you after our adventure. I wondered where you went..and lo and behold, I find you in this abandoned spaceship exploring the final frontier.”

His words made your face grow warm, making the freezing air a little more bearable.

“I’m glad to see you again...but..aren’t you cold?” You tilted your head as you hugged yourself, still feeling chilly.

Looking down at himself, then all around him, and finally back to you..he only  shrugged. “Nah. I’ve dealt with worse. I’d ask how you’ve been lately but..that seems redundant.”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell. I’ve made some...bad decisions and this is what happened.” You gestured to everything around you.

“Now, now I’m sure you didn’t mean it. You made some smart choices on our last adventure.” He reassured you. “I’m willing to bet you made the best ones possible given the circumstances...whatever those might’ve been here. I don’t know the full story.”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Fair enough. Well..seems like space travel’s not all it’s cracked up to be." Putting his hands on his hips, he smiled warmly. "Let’s get you outta this frozen wasteland and catch up. Maybe go on a calmer adventure. Whatdya say, partner?”

You couldn’t say no to that invitation.

So you smiled and brushed the snow from your gloves, ready to restart your life. Maybe this was the universe’s way of saying you had a shot at redemption.

No do-overs. Just a second chance.

“Yeah, I’d like that. And you’re right. Space travel’s overrated anyways.”

[kumiwrites]

always have, always will

Sero Hanta doesn’t know a life without you by his side. For as long as he can remember, you’ve always been there. You’ve always been his person—always have, always will.

Or so he thought.

Pairing: Sero Hanta x Reader Prompt: Relationship firsts Genre: Fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers Warning(s): None Word count: 2937 A/N: This is my fic for the first BNHA Hangout SFW collab! It was fun writing for Sero (though this fic ended up merging with a different Sero piece I was working on because at one point I was writing into the wrong doc and it just ended up meshing haha). I hope you enjoy, and check out the other fics in the collab here!

Sero Hanta was a straightforward kid.

He liked watching anime, terrorizing the neighbourhood with his school friends, and collecting hero action figures. He also liked spending time with his new neighbour: you.

When you moved in next door, Sero had gone over with his parents to say hello, and to bring by a basket of fresh oranges. The adults had chattered away, introducing themselves and talking about the nearby elementary school, but Sero was focused on the small girl standing behind her mother’s legs with her head peeking out.

“Hi, I’m Hanta,” he introduced himself, walking up to you and holding out a hand.

Almost immediately, you brightened up, grabbing his hand and shaking it. “I’m [Name]!”

“Let’s be friends!”

Sero had no idea what he was getting himself into.

He wasn’t expecting you to be as much of a handful as you ended up being, considering you were both only five. He could keep up with you, but just barely. You were like a wild child with zero fears, and you dove headfirst into anything and everything. Sero had to reel you in when you got too crazy (jumping off a bridge into the river is crazy, isn’t it?), but for the most part, he liked joining you on your adventures.

His mom laughed at him whenever he came home covered in scrapes and bruises, asking if he had a good day with you. Before you, he’d never come home this exhausted or beaten up, but ever since you showed up, Sero fell asleep as soon as he cleaned up, and would be out cold until his mom woke him up for dinner.

Whenever you came over for dinners, the two of you would run around the house like untameable animals, chasing one another in a game of tag until you fell asleep on the floor next to each other. Sometimes Sero wouldn’t even notice how blistering hot it was because he was too busy having fun.

Sero loved the summertime with you.

Starting school with you was something Sero was excited for.

What he didn’t realize would be an issue was how everyone wanted to be friends with the new girl that had a cool quirk, and that nobody was running to befriend the kid with big elbows. You were pulled in every direction but his.

“It’s like she doesn’t have time for me,” Sero huffed as he helped his mom take plates to the dinner table.

“You know, Hanta,” his mom chided, ruffling his hair, “it sounds like you’re jealous of [Name]-chan’s new friends.”

He puffed his cheeks out, crossing his arms as he set the plates on the table. There was still a bit of time left before dinner would be finished, so his mom sent him off to play a bit more.

The doorbell rang then, and he wondered who would be visiting at dinnertime.

“Ah, [Last Name]-san!” Sero’s mom exclaimed when she opened the door. “[Name]-chan!”

“Sorry to bother you, Sero-san,” your mom bowed, her hands on your shoulders. “There’s a work emergency at my agency, and [Name]’s dad has a night shift so he can’t watch her. Would we be able to leave her with you for the night?”

“Of course!” Sero’s mom responded, beaming down at you as your mom gives her another bow. “We’re about to have dinner, if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Thank you so much, you’re an absolute lifesaver!” she turned to you, giving you a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Be good to Sero-san, [Name]. We’ll see you soon!”

You nodded, kissing your mom on the cheek and waving to her as she broke out into a sprint towards her hero agency. “Thank you for having me,” you said softly.

“Come in, [Name]-chan,” Sero’s mom ushered you inside, her hand on your head as Sero peeked his head out from the top of the staircase. “Hanta, can you show [Name]-chan to your room? We can put out a futon for her there.”

He waved to you, watching as you kicked off your shoes and ran up the stairs to him. He led you to his room, watching as you put your backpack down by the door.

“Do you want to play with my All Might figurines?” he asked, and you nodded, taking a seat on the floor in the middle of the room as he pulled two of the figures down from his shelf. He watched the tears well up in your eyes, and he paused, wondering why you were crying when he was about to share his best All Mights with you.

“Mommy didn’t want to leave me alone,” you pouted, cheeks puffed out. “I wish she and Daddy didn’t have to leave all the time, but they’re doing important hero things.”

Sero didn’t know what else to do other than sit down next to you and (hesitantly) hold out his favourite All Might action figure to you. “You can come play when they have to leave.”

You swiped at your eyes for a moment before taking the figure from him. “Okay.”

Sero realized he didn’t mind you making new friends, as long as he still got to play with you like this.

“Hanta,” you called after him, umbrella in hand. It started raining in the middle of the day, and you knew he didn’t bring one with him. “Let’s walk home together.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, taking the umbrella from you and holding it up between you. You bumped your head against his shoulder, returning his grin as the two of you set off for home.

“W-wait! [Last Name]-chan!”

The two of you turn to look at the boy from your class that called to you. Sero had been split up from you this year, having ended up in a different class, so he didn’t know who the guy was.

“Can… can we talk for a minute?”

You gave Sero an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back, yeah?”

He had an uneasy feeling as he nodded, watching as you ran towards the building and followed the classmate in. He scrolled through his phone as he waited patiently for you.

When you returned, your cheeks were pink and you were a little flustered. Your classmate was nowhere to be found, and you looped your arm through Sero’s as you tugged him forward.

“What happened?” he asked.

Your blush intensified. “He confessed to me.”

Sero felt his heart drop but forced a smile. What would he do if you started dating that guy? “Oh? What did you say, Ms. Popular?”

You jabbed a finger into his elbow, earning you a pained groan. “Shut up, Hanta. I turned him down.”

He didn’t press the issue, which you appreciated as you tried to keep your heart from snapping your ribcage apart with how hard it was still pounding. Takashi was a nice guy that you spoke to from time to time, but other than friendly interactions in class, you hadn’t really noticed him much. His confession came as a surprise, and you had gently turned him down.

“Are you dating Sero-san?” he had asked, hands fisted at his sides as you shook your head.

“Hanta is my best friend,” you said softly, cheeks pink as Takashi gave you a small smile.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, then?”

You had sputtered, completely flustered as Takashi laughed warmly.

“He’s a lucky guy.”

You didn’t get the chance to take the U.A. entrance exam with Sero, as students from the same middle school were placed in different testing areas. The goal was to immobilize the villains, which should’ve come easy to Sero with his Tape Quirk. Thankfully, you found it wasn’t too difficult for you either. The two of you had recounted your exams in great detail to one another, and you were both confident in the other’s performance.

When the letter came in the mail the week after, you hadn’t even opened it before running to Sero’s house, your body tingling with excitement.

“Did you—”

“No—”

“Let’s open it together—”

“Come—”

The two of you were complete messes as you sprinted to his room, plopping onto the floor in front of one another as you both took a deep breath and opened the envelope.

A small disk fell out of the envelope, and a projection came up of All Might.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you threw yourself into Sero, arms wrapped around his neck as he fell onto his back. The same disk had come out of his own envelope, and the two All Mights were speaking over one another incoherently as you rubbed your cheek against Sero’s.

“We’re going to U.A.!”

“So are you and [Last Name] a thing, Sero?”

He nearly choked on his drink, sputtering as his eyes darted around the table for you. Luckily, you were still in line for soba with Todoroki.

“W-why would you ask me that?”

Ashido grinned, her chin propped up in her hand as she leaned across the table. “We see the way you look at her.”

“You’re not slick, dude,” Kaminari added, slurping his juice box. “When she walks by, you’re practically ogling her.”

“N-no—”

“I don’t blame you, Sero. Those legs,” Kaminari continued, letting out a low whistle.

Before Sero could smack Kaminari across the back of his head, Ashido kicked him from under the table. “Shut up, Kaminari.”

“Hey,” you interrupted, sliding your tray onto the table next to Sero as he scooted his chair over. “Sorry that took so long, Todoroki’s order took forever.”

Sero hummed. “No worries.”

You saw the way he eyed your food and grinned, waving it in front of him tauntingly. “Want some, Hanta?”

He grinned, his chopsticks scooping up a mouthful of noodles before you could really even react.

You knocked on Sero’s door, opening it when you heard a soft ‘come in’ from the other side.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, head hanging over the edge of his bed as he scrolled through his phone.

You shook your head, gently closing the door behind you as you took a seat on the floor next to his bed. You gently bumped your head against his, your cheek rubbing his as he laughed softly. His hand came to cup your other cheek, squishing it gently.

“Want to watch a movie?”

You hummed softly, nodding as he grinned. He blew a raspberry against your cheek, earning him a laugh from you as he flipped himself upright. You watched as he grabbed his laptop from the desk and plopped down next to you on the floor, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he typed in his password and pulled up a streaming site.

“Any requests?” he asked, nudging you. You shook your head, resting your chin on his shoulder as he scrolled through the list mindlessly. He laughed softly when you blew a huff of air into his hair, tickling his face—a signal for him to speed up his pick.

He settled for a romantic comedy, setting his laptop down on the floor. When he leaned back, you settled in next to him with your arm looped through his, your fingers tracing along his elbows as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Hanta,” you whispered, lacing your fingers through his lazily as he turned his head to you. “I love you.”

His heart seized. “Love you too,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. Every so often, you’d say it to him out of the blue, catching him off-guard. But he’d always taken it as a platonic, ‘you’re my friend for life’ type of love.

“Not just as my best friend,” you murmured, lifting your head to stare him down. “Hanta, I love you.”

Huh?

“I’ve confessed to you like, twenty times in the last three years alone,” you whined, a pout on your lips as you watched him turn to face you. “And every time, you think I’m saying it as just friends.”

There was absolutely no way that Sero’s jaw wasn’t on the floor right then and there. He gaped at you, eyes wide and cheeks pink. It took you snapping your fingers in his face a few times to bring him back to his senses, and even then he was still a sputtering mess.

How many years had he fantasized about this? Dreamed of you? Wondered what it would feel like if you loved him too? It felt like all his years of pining, of yearning, were finally paying off, and he scrambles to compose himself enough to give you an answer.

“I love you too,” he whispered, fingers shaking a little as he reached for your hand. He laced his fingers through yours, like he’d done a million times before, and yet it felt as if it was infinitely different this time around. “Always have, always will.”

Everyone says that being with someone you love is like being on cloud nine. What they don’t tell you, is that sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you want it to, and sometimes it ends.

Somewhere along the way, the words became emptier, and the kisses you shared became dull. Your minds were both a million miles away half the time, focused so heavily on school and your internships, and the other half neither of you could find the words to fill the heavy silence that seemed to always hang over you.

What was once your beautiful, bright friendship slowly transformed into something else—something heavier and emptier than it was before.

“Hanta,” you began, coming to a stop next to him as the two of you leisurely made your way back to the dorms. You had met up at the end of your internships to get dinner together, which had passed uneventfully.

“What’s up, [Name]?”

He watched you take a deep breath, eyes closed for a moment before you opened them and looked straight at him. It sent a chill down his spine, and all of a sudden, he felt a little queasy.

“I think we should break up.”

There were those six words, the words that anyone in a seemingly happy relationship dreaded hearing out of the blue. But for you, it wasn’t out of the blue—everything that the two of you had loved doing together, everything that had taken on a new colour, a new meaning, when you first started dating had slowly become grey and dreary over the last year.

Sero couldn’t really pinpoint when or why it happened, but it did. And it made him sad to think that after all these years with you—after pining after you for so long—the two of you didn’t work as a couple.

“Alright then,” he replied softly, watching as you gave him a sad smile and tippy-toed to reach his face. Your hand was soft against his cheek when you pulled him down for one last kiss, and he couldn’t help the way he wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back. When you pulled away, he couldn’t help the tears that clouded his vision, despite how desperately he tried to will them away. “I guess this is it, then.”

“I still want to be friends,” you said quietly, as if it were a consolation prize. “I still want to be your best friend.”

But unluckily for Sero, that wasn’t the way it went.

Watching the girl he’d loved his entire life fall in love with someone else was quite the experience.

It started slowly, with you hanging out with him less and less. You stopped answering your texts quickly, and eventually just forgot to respond altogether most days. Sero no longer studied with you, or ate lunch with you, or got to spend nights in your room watching dumb movies together, and it felt like losing a limb. He’d think that it was still there sometimes from how easily he could maneuver through his life, but then when something happened and he tried to turn to you, you were gone. A phantom limb.

One day, Kirishima let it slip that he had seen you out on a date with Todoroki Shouto, and Sero felt his heart snap in half. He wasn’t necessarily an insecure person, but hearing you’d moved onto the Prince of 2-A himself just… it took the cake, to be frank.

Sometimes, relationships just didn’t work out. Sero just never thought that he would be on the receiving end of that misfortune.

Sero still thought of you a lot.

He couldn’t help it; it was an instinct that formed over years of close friendship, and it was infinitely more difficult to get rid of. Whenever he saw something that reminded him of you, his first response was almost always pulling out his phone to snap a photo to send to you, until he pulled up your contact card and remembered that the two of you don’t talk much anymore.

It didn’t hurt as much anymore—it was like a dull ache, less pronounced than the sharp pain it once was. Sometimes Sero forgot about it completely, and other times it came crashing down on him like an intrusive thought—an unwelcomed guest that made its home in his heart—that refused to go away.

People say that the first heartbreak is the hardest. Sero now knew that it wasn’t necessarily the heartbreak itself that hurt the most, but rather everything that came after. He was always looking for you, even though he didn’t want to—even if he didn’t realize he was.

He always had, and always will.

[kurodachimagic]

Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 3

Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.

Rating: Pg 13

Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.

Word count: 6.2k

A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you@hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now.

Read on ao3

Adachi adapted to his new and strange life as a wizard fairly quickly. He realized that he just needed to take the morning train before rush hour and the night train after it to avoid most of the accidental mind-reading incidents. It cost him precious time out of his day, but he didn’t mind it as much when he gave in and started typing on his phone to put his best foot forward in maintaining his writing schedule. Some sacrifices needed to be made and such was life.

With his writer’s block under control, Adachi threw himself fully into his book. Every second that was not spent working or sleeping, he was writing or doing research for it. Days soon started to merge into each other, but that was completely fine in his opinion; as long as his book became a reality, he was willing to sacrifice his free time.

At some point during the following week, Adachi ran into Kurosawa while taking out the trash. He turned around and there he was, sporting a bright smile that was akin to familiar with how much they had been seeing each other. Then, something odd happened. Adachi felt blush rising to his cheeks as he stood so close to his neighbour that he could smell his cologne. He instinctively closed his eyes and inhaled that sweet aroma, a foreign feeling settling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure of what could have caused him to react like that, but he clearly needed to rest for a bit. Maybe so much work was giving him anxiety. He said a quick goodbye to Kurosawa and rushed back home.

The following day Adachi pressed the wrong button in the elevator and exited one floor below his own. Not noticing his mistake, he tried to open a door that looked just like his, only to jump back when it opened swiftly to reveal Kurosawa wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Adachi choked on his own spit, his eyes unable to ignore the fact that Kurosawa was not wearing a T-shirt - or clothes at all for that matter - and that his hair was dripping onto his torso, the droplets continuing to travel down his body in a mesmerizing way.

“Hello!” Kurosawa smiled. “I think you got the wrong flat - unless you wanted to pay me a visit.”

“Uh, yeah,” Adachi said, his eyes finally meeting Kurosawa’s. Then, he noticed a familiar smell, perhaps vanilla and chocolate.

“Would you like to come in?” Kurosawa asked, setting his hand on the doorframe, his fingers softly brushing against Adachi’s.

Adachi suddenly felt as if he was inside of a movie, romantic music and all. He could see Kurosawa pulling him inside by the belt loops and kissing him deeply as he dropped his work bag to the floor. He moaned, letting himself be guided into the flat without breaking the kiss, the door shutting behind them just as the towel started to come undone on its own, revealing Kurosawa’s -

Adachi removed his hand from the door frame and blinked repeatedly. “I have to go, sorry!” He mumbled and ran the remaining flight of stairs leading up to his flat, before hurrying inside and locking the door. ‘What was that?’

That night Adachi paced so much around his flat, for a moment he considered the possibility of the floor just giving in and him falling straight into Kurosawa’s flat. Had those been Kurosawa’s thoughts or his own?

--

Ever since that night, Adachi’s thoughts and dreams were plagued by Kurosawa’s face and his naked torso. It was often some sort of fantasy where Kurosawa cooked for him and fed him wearing only an apron or coming up in only a towel, asking to use his shower as he bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair.

After many nights of waking up with a start and drenched in sweat but awfully satisfied, Adachi had no choice but to start questioning his sexual orientation. Maybe there was an actual reason he had never felt the need to pursue a woman. To be sure of his conclusion, he would need to avoid Kurosawa until he had found a definitive answer.

--

Funnily enough, the more Adachi avoided any and all common areas in the building, the more he saw Kurosawa. His plan had a fundamental flaw: they lived in the same building and Kurosawa knew exactly how to find him.

Perhaps the reason he had never come knocking on his door was the fact that they saw each other fairly frequently - increasingly so, even - but now that Adachi had made the decision to avoid him, his neighbour just kept coming up under the most ludicrous pretences.

Sometimes he would come asking for cooking ingredients like milk or sugar, two other times he brought Adachi’s post up, one time he offered to take out his trash for him since he was on his way down. You see, the nice old lady living next door had laughed at Kurosawa’s demands and told Adachi that his neighbour was a professional chef and she knew for a fact that he always had cooking ingredients on hand because he did her shopping every day as well as bringing her food or cookies on occasion.

Adachi had blinked repeatedly, truly baffled by his behaviour but at the same time, he had started to look forward to their little meetings, especially now that there was no doubt that Kurosawa was purposely seeking him out - and baking him cookies in the middle of the night.

He’d narrowed his eyes but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he took advantage of this new source of information and asked about Kurosawa’s girlfriend, but after providing a short description, he found out that the woman in question was his sister. To his surprise, this made him feel absolutely gleeful; it brought such a huge smile to his face that he felt a bit flustered and after a quick thank you and a small bow, he ran back home.

He had flopped onto his bed and placed his arms behind head pondering about this new development. His reaction to finding that Kurosawa did not have a girlfriend, paired with all the dreams Adachi had had about him, had made him realize that he was interested in him, as a person, as a friend, and as everything the other was willing to give him. The problem was that Adachi had no romantic experience at all and the sole thought of going in search of Kurosawa had made him feel sick to his stomach, so he’d decided to wait for the perfect opportunity. That day came two weeks later.

A Friday night, barely past midnight, Kurosawa knocked on his door, once again, with a box quite similar to the one he had received before.

“Hi,” Kurosawa said, biting his lip.

“Hello,” Adachi answered with a small smile. “What can I do for you, Kurosawa?”

“I hope it’s not too late. I wanted to ask you a huge favour.”

“No, of course not,” Adachi said, purposely placing his hand on the door frame, closer to Kurosawa’s. “What do you need?

As if they were magnets, Kurosawa rested his head against Adachi’s hand. “Would you try these cookies for me? I think this is the final version of my recipe.”

Adachi gasped. He could see how long Kurosawa had been working on the recipe, how nervous he was to get his approval, not only because he had inspired the cookies but because he trusted his opinion.

“Absolutely, I love cookies,” smiled.

The image changed before his eyes. Adachi sat on his sofa with a grin, Kurosawa straddled his legs and fed him bits of cookie, watching him raptly, asking if he liked them.

Deciding it was best to stop snooping in Kurosawa’s mind, Adachi removed his hand from the frame and took the box before walking in. “Come in, please. I’ll make us tea.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Kurosawa walked in, set the box on the coffee table and looked around curiously. He grabbed a cookie before coming to stand beside Adachi, watching him fill the kettle and move around the kitchen.

“What?” Adachi asked, feeling Kurosawa’s eyes burning holes through him.

“What?” Kurosawa said in the same exact tone.

Adachi blushed and focused his eyes on his tea set. “You are looking at me weirdly!?”

“Oh,” Kurosawa laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s just - would you mind trying the first cookie without the tea? It could change the flavour profile.”

“Oh. Of course!” Adachi said, extending his hand to grab the cookie but Kurosawa was having none of it. Instead, he held the cookie to Adachi’s lips, waiting for him to just take a small bite.

With a resigned sigh, Adachi bit into a cookie and moaned as a bit of cherry exploded inside his mouth adding a touch of tartness to the chocolate. He didn’t really realize what he had done until he saw Kurosawa’s eyes widen.

“Is it that good?”

“Yes,” Adachi said, trying to regain his composure. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever tried. I could eat them every day for the rest of my life.”

“I’m glad you like them. I created this recipe thinking of you.”

“Really?” Adachi asked, already knowing the answer.

Kurosawa simply nodded.

Adachi closed his eyes trying to find the courage needed for what he was about to do. “I wanted to talk to you,” he finally said.

“Oh?”

“I know why you keep coming,” Adachi said as he stepped closer to him.

“Why?” Kurosawa asked, taking another step forward, his lips almost brushing against Adachi’s.

Adachi looked at his lips and closed the distance between them, surprising even himself with his boldness. He felt Kurosawa’s hand on his arm, grounding him.

Suddenly, they were standing in the kitchen, cooking together, wearing matching rings. Then, they were walking under the moonlight with sakura petals falling over them. The image changed again and this time, they were standing at the altar, Kurosawa giving him a lopsided smile as he said “I do.” The scene rapidly changed, Kurosawa picked him up and threw him into their bed effortlessly before crawling over him, kissing him, slowly removing his clothes one by one until -

Adachi gasped and stepped back, bringing a hand to his lips, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Then, he smiled realizing how right that felt even if their lips had barely touched.

Kurosawa’s usual smile deepened as he pulled Adachi close for a proper kiss; the first of many.

[1zashreena1]

I Am Having a Snuggle -10

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess doesn’t sleep much after her long distance meltdown. Soft Murder Panther to the rescue! Well, except for that one hard part.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

FEELS. SMUT (aka The Good Stuff), the L word, plus size woman+fit man, soft!Diego (srsly disgusting and if you bring it up later he will stab you), coddled Princess, mentions of... The Belt*tm,  is a relationship happening?? apparently. Leftover high school Spanish.

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Special thanks to @chelsfic for the shared Diego headcanons re: coffee preferences. ILY Mommy

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

You snap awake with a gasp. What woke you up? You lay there for a second, holding your breath and listening. With your vision being so horrible your hearing is a much more reliable sense. Its pitch black tonight, no moonlight breaking through the cloud cover. You don't keep any ambient lighting on while you sleep so you couldn't see anything if you tried.

There. A soft bang outside somewhere. Then another. It almost sounds like car doors. I wonder if the baby is sick again and First Floor Mark is taking her to the hospital?

Your worry is cut short when you jolt to full awareness because your apartment door is opening. You flip over to your back and dive for the nightstand. Glasses first, Smithfield 911 second. You sit up to brace yourself against the wall and hold the gun in your lap, fingering the safety. 

The door closes and you hear it being locked. 

With a heaved sigh you make sure the safety is on and wait. Heavy footsteps come ever closer to your bedroom and you can see the light of his phone before he appears in your doorway.

Diego freezes when he sees you sitting up in bed. Then he smiles. Wide and sparkling in the low light, you can't see them but you know the dimples are there.

"Princess, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He greets you warmly, voice like liquid velvet, wrapping you in heated comfort. You can tell he is wearing most of a suit, the jacket is gone, but you have no idea what color. His collar is unbuttoned. That's not distracting at all.

You arch one brow and struggle not to smirk. "Damnit Diego, you almost got shot." You display the gun, barrel pointed to the ceiling.

He rumbles lowly at you, purring in pleasure, as he spreads his arms open. "Princess, that is hot. Come here, now!"

With a bark of laughter you drop the gun to the bed and launch yourself at him. He staggers back a step but catches you securely. You wrap all your limbs around him and squeeze. His hands cup your ass and he returns the gesture with enthusiasm. Diego turns his face into yours, you know exactly what he wants and you give it to him with no hesitation. 

His lips are soft but his beard is all scratchy tickles. You delight in the contrasting textures, moaning softly as you try to merge your bodies into one entity. His left hand climbs up your back to squeeze your neck right where you always carry all of your tension. 

"Ohhhhhh..." Your mouth drops open and you go boneless in his grip. He gives no quarter and shuts you up with his tongue while his groan vibrates against your chest. Your nipples respond with alacrity. 

He tastes like coffee and chocolate, maybe a hint of cinnamon. What the hell did he eat? You can't get enough of it. 

You never favored long bouts of kissing, makeout sessions were too intimate and your previous partners were more than happy to skip right to the main event. But its different with Diego. He doesn't drool on you and his mouth is consistently at least ten degrees hotter than your own. He always tastes like coffee and some outlandishly ridiculous flavored creamer. The instant a new variety of non-dairy creamer is released he has to try it. His child-like excitement over it is incredibly endearing to witness.

You sink both hands into his hair to pull him back. His eyes are huge and you watch with rapt attention as he licks his bottom lip. "Princess. Bed. Now." He croaks, nodding his own head like he's trying to peer pressure you into consenting. 

Completely unnecessary, baby. 

"Yeah." Your soft whimper is stupidly needy. Only Diego does this to you. Has this effect on you. You feel like the cover of a really bad romance novel. A strumpet. The ludicrous term makes you giggle. You gaspingly add another request, "But naked!"

Diego jumps into motion and takes two huge steps to the bed. You're already fighting with the buttons on his shirt and you don't quit as he lays you down on your back. There is only absolute faith that he won't drop you. 

The moment you're down his hands go to your cami, fingers sliding under the elastic band of the shelf bra and gathering the whole thing up to go over your head. You have to let go of him for a split second so he can fully remove it and that makes you whine unhappily. Diego tosses the shirt over his shoulder carelessly and smushes both of your breasts together to attempt a self-smothering. You laugh breathlessly until he latches onto a nipple.

"Ohhhhhh. Fuck. Yeah. Yeahhh." Nice porn moan, only practicing self-affirmation here. You still can't believe this works. The strong suckling sensations go straight to your cunt. No wonder other women always said they liked it. This is unique to Diego, too. He is the only person that your body has ever responded to in this. Sure, you liked your breasts fondled, squeezed, compressed utterly flat. But your nipples? No, they had some kind of epiphany the first time Diego sealed his lips around one and sucked.

You pet over his hair and he rumbles into your skin, the vibrations make your back arch. Your hands push on his shirt collar. You wanted bare skin earlier, now you need it. His hands disappear, then so does his shirt, but the attention to your nipple never falters. His sneaky fingers snake down over your stomach, he pauses to squeeze the squishy middle, then continue to your pants.

"No!" You yelp and Diego freezes. He releases your harried nipple to look up at you in puzzlement. 

With his brows drawn together he questions you, "Princess. What is--"

You don't let him finish. "Take your damn pants off right fucking now! I missed you, not your clothes!" You even sound frantic to yourself. Desperate. And you don't care.

He growls at you but straightens up and reaches for his belt. 

Oh god. His belt. Your gulp is audible. Its the same belt from that time he detained you on the jet. Spanked you delirious with it and then fucked you over a seat. All as punishment, of course, for sending a booty pic to Julio. You spent the next day on your belly while Diego torturously worshiped your ass. It was amazing.

His slow, evil smile confirms that he witnessed the entire memory play out across your face. That predatory stare never leaves yours as he opens the buckle and whips the soft leather free of the pant loops. He holds the belt up in the air, then drops it to the floor off the side of the bed. "Next time, Princess. We have the whole flight together. Maybe this time I'll make you keep count of how many times you come."

The threatening promise (promising threat??) makes you keen, high and piercing. Diego laughs at your obvious need, but he resumes stripping at a faster pace. You pop upright to get your pants off and complete the maneuver just in time to witness his cock achieve freedom. Before either one of you realizes it your hand is wrapped around him.

Diego collapses forward into you but catches himself on his hands before you get crushed. Not a bad way to go. You think. Crushed by hottest criminal sugar daddy with a heart of gold just for her. A beautiful obituary. 

You tighten your fingers around him; each one individually and in consecutive order, creating a rippling effect. He drops his forehead to your shoulder with a purr. You turn into his face to nuzzle up along his jawline. "Baby," you breathe, punctuating it with a long lick up the shell of his ear. "I missed you. So. Much."

His answering growl triggers violent shivers. He uses those wide shoulders to force you down onto your back. Planting one knee on the bed between your legs, he insinuates both hands under your ribcage and shoulders to slide you up the bed. His hands are so massive that they span the entire width of your back. That fact should scare you, instead you feel secure, even treasured, with how gently he handles you. He can be delightfully rough, you've been on the receiving end of that before. But right now is Soft Murder Panther hours.

He has to move up with you because you are not relinquishing that magnificent erection. 

"Princess," he rumbles directly into your ear, "Let go now or you will be disappointed later. I spent the entire flight thinking about every soft inch of you. Need to be inside you. Nowww." His confession ends in a breathy sigh as he begins pressing kisses over your entire face. 

You reach up to take off your glasses but he's already there, holding them by the frame around the lenses and not the easily bent arms. You blink back tears as you watch him stretch over to set them on your nightstand exactly how you do it. 

When he comes back you cradle his face with your hands, holding him still so you can just take this all in. His eyes search your face, looking for any hint of discomfort as he rests more of weight onto you. You nod gently and he gingerly, deliberately gives you the rest of his bulk. His presence drowns out everything else. All you know is Diego. Everything you ever wanted.

With minimal effort you guide him down until his forehead meets yours. He whimpers softly for you and your hands pet down his stubbled cheeks. This kiss is no less passionate than the wild ones earlier but somehow sweeter. You open your eyes to find him watching you, gaze unguarded and face completely open.

You stroke over his cheeks again, one thumb gliding along his plush lower lip. Diego nips your thumb, then engulfs it in his mouth to suck. Your moan is pure need, "Please, baby."

His hips roll and you feel the underside of his shaft rub the entire length of your labia. You arch and move with him this next time. The third pass lands the perfect angle and his thick heat spreads you wide. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out as you press your head back into the bed. He keeps pushing until you're completely filled. And then he pushes a little more. Just enough. 

You gasp in a shuddering breath and your back arches off the bed while you clench down around him in waves. He groans long and low as he watches you come on him. "Ohh, Bonita. Good girl."

Your quiet huff of laughter dissolves into a moan as he sets a steady pace. Long, solid strokes so you can feel every glorious inch, an inexorable push on your cervix every time he bottoms out. Your fingers claw into his shoulders, clinging like your life depends on it.

He burrows into your neck to sear your skin with his beard, soothing the burn with soft licks and velvet kisses. "Princess. Diego's perfect little princess. Its good? Tell me." He pants, open-mouthed and greedy.

You nod into his hair. "Perfect. Is perfect. You're perfect." He shakes his head 'no', rubbing his face on you. His right hand reaches down, gripping your thigh with purpose. He pulls your leg up, wrapping it around his waist, the other follows of its own accord. His knees spread, widening his stance and shifting the angle of his thrusts. Incredibly, he manages to get deeper inside you. Without a conscious command your mouth opens to spill out pure desperation and mangled ecstasy. "Yes, baby. All of you. Give me everything…"

He drops frenzied kisses all over your face while you two share the same air. His tone turns emotional, raspier, "Want to. Please. Please, please, please let me. Take care of my princess, be better. Just for you. Please, mi amor." 

That's new. New and heart-wrenching. You can't decide if its being used as a pet name or a declaration. It doesn't matter, the agonizing emotion behind it still makes you seize up with pleasure. He moans in approval, moving continuously throughout your entire climax. Just as your back begins to loosen he accelerates his thrusts, driving you right back up into another orgasm. You realize the ringing in your ears is actually a noise being made by your mouth.

"Yes, Princess. Come for me. Let Diego please this pretty little pussy." I am never going to regret admitting that I love his dirty talk. You congratulate yourself for that moment of successful communication. Diego hasn't shut up since then and you are so very grateful. 

He sweeps hands down your sides to grasp your hips. Even at your current size 16 his fingers still curve around both your front and back. He makes you feel small and delicate, vulnerable and fiercely protected. Cherished. Loved.

He half kneels under you, pulling your pelvis into his lap. Every intense, short thrust hits your g-spot and makes your vision swim. Your trembling never stops, its just constant rolling pleasure. You reach up for him, needing to be joined together endlessly. The muscles in his arms ripple and contract as he scoops you up. 

He has you sitting upright in his lap, legs around his waist and your arms tight behind his neck. Your entire weight rests on his left arm under your butt, holding you steady while he thrusts up into you with abandon. The right arm climbs up your back for him to thread fingers into your curls and press your forehead to his. Your mouth hangs open while you sob in bliss. 

"Si, Princess. Dame uno mas, come for your Diego. Be mine." You have no defense for his fierce begging whispered directly into your face. 

"Diego. Diego, baby, yes I-I-" Your voice cuts out as your orgasm sends you into convulsions. He presses your hips down fast to his so he can pump his own climax deep with a gravelly moan. 

He collapses forward, both of you dropping to the bed like a stone, then proceeds to just lay on you and pant. After an undefinable amount of time, Diego rubs his cheek against yours. He is purring again, the deep vibrations rumble through your chest. You pet over his hair, scratching his scalp with your short, practical nails. His back arches and his hips roll; he's still buried deep inside you. "Princessss. Bicki. Mi amor." His sigh is content.

You kiss his temple. Murmuring breathlessly to him, "Love you too, Murder Panther." You nuzzle into his beard, relishing all the textures. His breath catches, then his chest heaves. He pulls back from you, extricating his limbs so he can flop onto his side next to you. Your head turns for a kiss and he is already there, sealing his mouth to your own languidly.

 With one last fleeting peck to your chin, he rolls you onto your side and pulls you back against him in one fluid movement. Your head is pillowed on his left bicep and you wrap his right arm up tight to your chest. The entire length of his body is spooned up behind you. Instead of being suffocating you find it soothing. His soft little snuffling snores lull you back to sleep.

I am having a snuggle.

[with-all-my-heart-arwen]

The Scare

A/N:  An AU fic about Arthur and Gwen and a possible life changing event.

The sun is bright as it filters in from the wide curtainless windows.  The office continues to buzz with busyness and life seems to move right along despite the turmoil Gwen is feeling inside.  She sighs heavily as she packs her meager belongings into a cardboard box.  She’d had the desk for three weeks and now her dream internship was at an end.  She was only standing up for herself, something her father taught her, and now she feels as if she’s being punished for not allowing a client to talk down to her.

She can feel the eyes of the other office occupants as they glance her way, some with sympathy and some with a good riddance smirk.  Her choice of vocation is competitive and she has already mired her path to success.  The realization of loss is heavy and stifling. She tosses the last few items into the box, grabs her purse and exits with her head held high.  Once she’s in her car, the tears start to stream down her cheeks and she can’t muster the energy to start the vehicle and drive away. She reaches for her mobile and taps the last number called.

He answers hurriedly. “Hey.  I’m kind of busy at the moment.  Can I ring you back?”

She is so choked up she can barely talk.  “Ar….Arthur…..”

“Guinevere….what’s wrong? What’s happened?”  He asks anxiously, noticing her difficulty to speak.

“I….I need you.”

“It’s fine.  Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you,” he offers.

“Can you…..meet me at the park?  By the fountain?’  She asks.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, they are walking hand in hand as Gwen relays the incident with the client and then her boss and her subsequent firing.

“I thought for sure she’d speak up for me or at least see my side of things.  She completely threw me under the bus and told me I should have never spoken to a client in that manner.”  She pauses as she looks her boyfriend in the eye.  “I wasn’t cross with her like she was with me but I wanted her to know I would not tolerate being talked to like I was an imbecile.  How was that wrong?”

“It wasn’t wrong at all.” He shakes his head.  “Maybe you can speak with Isabel again, explain yourself….”

“You want me to grovel after the way she treated me?  She didn’t have to fire me you know.  This was an isolated incident.  Maybe I didn’t handle it as I should have.  Maybe I should have allowed the client to speak to me the way she did.”

“No.  You weren’t wrong for standing up for yourself.  I just hate to see you so miserable.”

“Well you’d better get used to it.  I can’t afford my flat now so I guess I’ll go back to Reading with dear old dad.  That means an hour commute each day for school, add in the wear and tear on the car and it all equals misery in my book.” She stops walking and drops his hand. “Oh Arthur what am I going to do?”

She feels awful asking her boyfriend of six months for answers but she is desperate.  Her life here was starting to come together nicely and now she appears to be backtracking.  It’s not fair.

He steps in and hugs her tightly.  “It will be fine.  I promise.” He places his hands on either side of her face.  “Why not start plans for your own business?”

“Are you forgetting I have one more year of uni?  No one’s going to take a graduating senior seriously.  I have to have that degree in hand.  Not to mention a bit of experience under my belt,” she reminds him.

“Ok.  Well this will leave you more time to devote to your studies. You may even finish early,” he suggests.

“Did I fail to mention my other problem?”  She lets out a soft breath.  “I need to complete an internship to get all my credits to graduate.  I’ve clearly mucked that up now.”  Her voice breaks on the last word and Arthur cringes, wishing he could take it all away.

“Let’s solve at least one of these problems.  Move in with me.  That way you won’t be back with your dad, you won’t have to drive so far, and I’ll cook breakfast each morning.”

Gwen smiles and wipes her tears.  “Eggs and toast?”

“Only the best for you.”

“Oh Arthur please be serious.  I really need some answers here.”

He frowns.  “Who says I’m not serious?”

“I couldn’t do that. I mean, it’s too soon.  We’ve only been dating for a few months.  What would everyone think?”

“Who cares what others think?  I understand this would be a big step for us but….I’m ready.”

“Ready?  Ready for what exactly?”

“Guinevere….I love you. Moving in together is a big commitment and I want that…..with you.”

“I…..I love you too Arthur but I don’t want you to feel obligated just because I’m having a bit of bad luck,” she states.

“This is not about your incident today.  This is about two people in love….taking the next step.”

She looks at him for a few seconds, recognizing his seriousness.  “Well, since you put it that way…..”

They laugh and she loops an arm through one of his as they exit the park.

Two months later

Gwen has ensconced herself into Arthur’s living quarters seamlessly.  He made good on his promise to prepare her breakfast every morning, she attended her classes during the day, he worked until six most evenings and she usually had dinner prepared for them once he was home.  Their lives merged almost perfectly.  The only thing she hadn’t accomplished was securing another internship and she had to have that in place within the next few weeks in order to complete her graduation requirements.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit stressed over it but she had a couple of prospects and she was just waiting for an interview.   She puts the finishing touches on tonight’s dinner and goes over a couple of assignments while she waits for Arthur to arrive.  She smiles when she hears the lock turn on the door and the love of her life enters their home.  He walks over to her and plants a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Sorry I’m late.  My father is really bad at knowing when to call it quits.”  He sets his keys in a bowl on the coffee table and moves towards the stairs.  “I’m going up to change. Be right back.”

That night was like so many others they’ve had.  Discussing their days, current events, news from friends, etc.  They spend an hour or so on their devices, checking emails, work obligations, school assignments and then they take a long hot shower together that ends with sensual lovemaking in his oversized king bed.

The next day, Gwen is seated at the coffee shop near her school with friends.

“Where’s Jessica?” She wonders.  

“Sick with cramps. She has them something awful.  I feel sorry for her,” Dreena answers.

The others continue their conversation but Gwen is stuck on the word cramps.  It automatically brings to mind her monthly cycle and she realizes she hasn’t gotten it yet.  She quickly thinks back to last month and knows she should’ve had her period by now. She takes out her mobile and pulls up the calendar to figure out just how late she is.  She gasps and tries not to panic as her heart rate increases with the thought of what could be causing her late period.

“Gwen are you ok?” Eugenia asks.

“Yeah….I…..yes I just remembered an assignment that’s due.  I really need to go.  I’ll see you guys later.”  She grabs her belongings and makes a beeline for her car.  She picks up her mobile several times to ring Arthur but she’s not sure what she would say, so she drives home and waits for him.  She can’t even think about eating she is so consumed with her thoughts.

The clock reads 7:30 and she scoffs as she thinks, ‘of all nights for him to be late’.  He did send a text earlier but she thought late would be 6:30 or 7.  At this rate, he could be even later and she knows she will be out of her mind in only a few more minutes.  She grabs her shoes and rushes down the stairs ready to snatch up her keys and drive to the nearest drug store.

Arthur walks through the door looking a bit disheveled.  “Hi love. Sorry I’m so late.  Merlin actually closed a deal and we had to celebrate.”

Gwen stands silently, looking at him.

“Are you ok?”  He asks.

“I’m late.”

“Late for what?”

“I mean…..I’m late.”

Her boyfriend’s eyebrows go up in surprise as his mouth forms a silent ‘oh’.  “Have you taken a test?  Do you know?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

He nods slowly. “Okay.  Okay….well let’s uh…..let’s get a test.”

“A test?”  She agrees.  “Yes we should get a test.”

They take his car and drive a few minutes away to a nearby drug store.  The entire time Gwen is racking her brain trying to think of how this could have happened if it has actually happened.  She and Arthur were careful.  They used condoms and she was on the pill although she was a bit forgetful from time to time.  Surely that wouldn’t result in a pregnancy?

She places the test on the counter to purchase it only to have Arthur drop a big box of condoms right next to it.  She gives him an annoyed look and remains silent as he retrieves some cash from his wallet and purchases their items.

The silence between them continues on the ride home, her mind still racing as she makes a beeline for the bathroom upstairs.  He follows at a slower pace and sits on the bed quietly.  He checks his watch, wondering how long this would take.  He stands quickly as he hears the door open. She holds a white device in her hand and shakes her head.

“It says I’m not pregnant.”

Arthur lets out a loud ‘Woo!’  He claps his hands together, then scrubs his face with them, releasing a relieved breath. “That was close.”  He walks toward her and places his hands on her shoulders. “Gosh I feel like we dodged a bullet.”

Gwen scoffs.  “I didn’t know you’d be quite so relieved.”

Arthur scoffs back. “Well aren’t you?”

“Yes…….and……no,” she answers.

“What?  What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.  The thought of being pregnant terrified me but now that I know I’m not…..I guess I’m just a bit disappointed,” she admits.

“Disappointed? Guinevere, we are not ready for a child. You haven’t graduated uni and I’ve just started a leadership role in my father’s company.  The last thing we need is a baby.”

“I know that Arthur. Don’t you think I know that?  You just…..you’ve just made me feel like a child with me would be the last thing you’d want.  If two people love each other, isn’t it natural that they’d want children together?”

“Children?  We’ve never even discussed children.  You’ve never expressed a desire to have any and to be honest I haven’t given it much thought.  All I know is that I’m not ready to change nappies and be up all hours of the night with a screaming infant.”

“You make it sound so dismal and I think it’s one of the most beautiful things in the world,” she answers softly.

“I’m sure it is beautiful for those who plan it and want it.  I’m not saying we won’t have kids but it’s just not something that should happen now,” he offers.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t mind having kids with me?”

He takes his time answering her.  For some reason becoming a father is something that terrifies him.  His mother died giving birth to him and his father never truly got over her death. He’s not sure he can put the woman he loves in the same predicament.  “Can we please discuss this later?  I’m feeling a little drained right now.”

“Arthur…..I need to know. I love you but if you don’t see a future for us……..”

“What are you talking about? We had a scare Guinevere.  We’re ok now and we know to be more cautious in future.”

“But if we don’t want the same things then how can we stay together?”

“There’s no urgency here. How about we revisit this in another…….five years?”

Five years?  She watches dumbfounded as Arthur removes his jacket and tie and leaves the room.

That night, Arthur pulled her into his arms and held her closely.  The previous scare and conversation lingered in the room but they didn’t discuss it any further.  Gwen was surprised by her feelings and Arthur’s admission.  She replayed the conversation in her head again and again, her thoughts keeping her awake long into the early morning hours.

Two weeks later

“Arthur, I need to talk to you,” Gwen expresses as they place their dinner plates in the sink.

He nods.  “I know what it’s about and I haven’t changed my mind.”

“So are you admitting there is no future for us…..that we want different things?”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying we aren’t ready to be parents.  Don’t you agree?”  He wonders.

“Yes but…..if we’re going to have a future together, shouldn’t we discuss the things we want and expect when it comes to family?”

“It’s not a conversation we have to have right now.  We have plenty of time,” Arthur reminds her.

Gwen accepts that as his reluctance to discuss a future therefore he must not want a future that includes her and what she wants.  This only added to the stress she was experiencing which resulted in a late period. She realizes she needs to relieve some of that stress so her decision was the right one. “Well, I’ve accepted an internship.”

Arthur smiles, relieved to change the subject.  “That’s great!”

“In France.”

Her lover falters. “Wh…what?  In France?  Why?”

“I need to get serious about this, Arthur.  I scratched France off my list because I couldn’t bear being away from you but if I truly want to graduate and if I truly want the experience, I need to accept the opportunities granted to me.”

“So you’re leaving just like that?”

“It’s for 6 weeks and I’ve been approved to complete my courses online for that duration.  It’s all going to work out.”

“But what about us?”

“You’ve made it clear that we should concentrate on our careers right now and I’ve decided that you’re right.”

“Are you dumping me?” He doesn’t give her time to answer as he steps to her and lifts her chin to look directly into her eyes.  “I love you.”  He swallows nervously.  “If this is about a baby….then….we’ll have one.  I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I love you too but I think some time apart is what we need now.  I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Great coz I don’t want this.  I want you to stay.”

“I want you to take this time to consider what you truly want.  If you don’t see yourself as a father in a couple of years then we want different things, Arthur, and we shouldn’t be together if our expectations don’t coincide.”

He motions to say more but Gwen crushes her lips to his, pushing her tongue into his mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck.  She pushes her body against his and gasps as Arthur pulls back.

“Guinevere, we need to talk about this.”

“I leave in two days, Arthur.  I want to spend that time wrapped in your arms.”  Not another word is spoken as they resume their kiss and move into their bedroom.

The next few weeks are torturous for the both of them but they contend by keeping busy, Arthur in his new position at his father’s company and Gwen with her thriving internship. They talk on the phone daily, send each other text messages and emails and the 6 weeks are done before they realize it.

Gwen can barely contain her excitement as she presses the garage opener and parks her car beside Arthur’s.  She leaves her bags in the boot as she hurriedly unlocks the door and enters their home.  Arthur stands by the kitchen counter and she races to him, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly.  His arms snake around her waist and he kisses her neck soundly.

“I missed you so much,” she gasps then kisses him gently.

“I missed you too.”

“Arthur, I want to apologize.  I did a lot of thinking while I was away but I couldn’t say this over the phone or in an email.  I was wrong to make you feel like you had to tell me exactly what you wanted for your future.  We have time and I hope you can forgive me.  I wasn’t very understanding and I don’t want to lose you.  I love you with all my heart.”

He smiles.  “I want to apologize too.  I allowed my knowledge of what happened to my parents to cloud my judgment about my own future.  I will admit that I don’t know what the future holds for us but as long as I’m with you I don’t care.  I love you, Guinevere, more than anything.”

They kiss passionately, their love for one another more evident and stronger than ever.  She grabs his hand and leads his towards the stairs.

“I’ve dreamt about you almost every night for 6 weeks.  I hope you’re prepared to remain in bed for the next few days.”

Arthur laughs as they climb the stairs together, enter their bedroom, close the door and start to disrobe before falling onto the bed where they make love slowly and intensely.