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rommahh · 3 years

Text

I Carry It In My Heart

Word count: 4.7k

I thank everyone who read part one, it meant so much to me to see the love it got. Heres part two, please comment, like reblog, whatever I just wanna hear your thoughts! I also plan on making smaller blurbs of this universe with fratrry. I have plans for a graduation, wedding, babies, and other random blurbs of their lives. Much love, R.

Part One

Y/N’s drive home was quiet. She drove the whole six hours just listening to her thoughts. Thinking about the future of a relationship she had so much hope for. She wanted this relationship so much and seeing Harry before leaving campus reassured her that maybe just maybe, Harry wanted what she wanted too.

Six hours went by and Y/N finally arrived home. She lived on a very secluded farm with her mom, dad, grandparents, uncles/aunts, and cousins. Everyone lived along the property making the family tight knit. She was scared to reveal to her family that she wasn't with Harry anymore. He grew to be a very important part of the family. Everyone saw how beautiful Harry and Y/N’s relationship was. They could see how close they were and how they just shared a really unique connection with each other.

Getting out of her car, Y/N took a moment to stretch her legs before she was bombarded by her family. Hands were pulling her into hugs, kisses were being planted on her cheek- she never felt more loved in her life. She didn't realize she was crying until her mom held her face between her hands wiping the free flowing tears from the young girl's face. The family left the mother and daughter alone to reconnect.

“What is wrong with my baby?” Her mother cradled her face as she sobs.

“Mommy, we broke up. Me and Harry broke up and- and i'm exhausted from exams, and i'm so hungry!” Y/N’s hysterics caused her mom to chuckle. She helped grab Y/N’s belongings from the trunk and then led the girl into the house. As Y/N wiped the tears from her face she hiccuped trying to catch her breath.

With her bags in her room, Y/N sat at the kitchen table as her mom placed a bowl of chilli in front of her. Her mom sat beside her rubbing her back encouraging her to eat and regain some energy.

“Tell me what happened hon?”

“We got in a really bad fight after he kissed another girl. He basically said that I was overreacting. I tried to tell him that my reaction was merely based on how I feel about our future relationship. He laughed at me and said he wasn't thinking about the future of our relationship. Tha-” She choked up again “-that this wasn't a future he wanted.” Y/N sniffled into her food as her mom guided food into her mouth.

“It's ok hon. Let me tell you something, you and Harry will be fine. It may seem like this is the end but it's not. You will get through this because you guys were made for each other. From the way that you guys know each other's thoughts to the way that you both can read each other with no problem- you two were meant to be. Me and your pa went through our own issues but look at us now. We are solid. Baby, you two will be solid.” Y/N’s mom smoothed the hair on her daughter's head smiling at the young girl.

Y/N thought about her mothers words. Hearing her mom say those things about her relationship made her feel a little better. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to get to bed and get some rest.

Y/N walked into her room and immediately her eyes were drawn to the gift Harry got her. She didn't remember bringing it in her room but there it sat in all of its glory. The gold wrapping paper on the box contrasted with the dark wood of her dresser. The envelope adorned with Harry's name written in cursive.

She was tempted to open the gift but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to even touch the gift. She kept thinking about the moment she shared with Harry in the parking lot. How he made time to see her before she left. How he found time to get her a gift and bring it to her. She grabbed the gift, shoving it into the top drawer of the dresser.

As Y/N lied in her bed that night, wrapped in a blanket Harry bought her, she couldn't run her mind off. She wanted to be with Harry but she was scared of his lack of commitment. She doesn't understand his sudden lack of commitment. She mentioned marrying him in the future and he freaked out on her. It hurt to know that in a quick second, he could change his mind.

Closing her eyes she went to sleep thinking about her brown haired, green eyed boy whose heart she carries with her at all times.

Y/N felt better to be back home on the farm. This semester had mentally drained her to the point where she felt like she had nothing within herself to give. She sat in the barn behind the house watching the chickens run around as she remembered the first time Harry visited the farm.

“No Harry, you just grab them from underneath. Like cup your hands and grab!” Y/N hollered to her boyfriend as he chased chickens around trying to grab them. He couldnt get his hands on a chicken but hearing his girlfriend laughing made it all worth it. Here he was dressed in overalls while chasing chickens.

“Bubs, I cant get one.” He pouted walking back over to Y/N.

“You don't have the talent I have.” She walked over to a resting chicken and grabbed it with ease. Tucking the chicken under her arm, she scratched the top of the chicken's head and walked over to where Harry was standing in shock.

“You are something else!” She set the chicken down, watching it run away. Harry grabbed her arm, twirling her around to face him. She placed her arms atop his shoulders, fingers playing with the small curls of his head. His arms wrapped around her waist squeezing her close to him.

It was a beautiful morning on the farm. Fall break on full blast and instead of Harry going back home, he just decided to come see where his girlfriend lives. They were sophomores now, entering almost a year of dating. This had been one the best almost years of their lives.

Harry placed a gentle kiss on her plush lips. She smiled, kissing him back.

“I love you Harry.” She said, staring at his eyes. His eyes opened wide. He stepped back from her and then started jumping up and down out of happiness. He threw her over his shoulder and started running through the blades of grass like the chickens he was trying to catch earlier. Setting her down on her feet she giggled at his antics.

“I cant believe you just said that. Im so fucking in love with you. So in love.” He said squishing her cheeks together, puckering her lips and smacking a wet kiss on her mouth.

“Ew Harry gross.” she giggled as he continued to place wet slobbery kisses over her face.

Y/N was so happy to bring Harry home. She wanted to show her family this new boy that had completely captivated her heart. He fit in with her family perfectly, making jokes, helping with dinner, playing with the little ones. He was family.

Walking into the house, she was greeted with the familiar smell of her grandma's famous peach crumble. She went into the kitchen sitting at one the stools watching her grandmother whip around the kitchen baking a slew of desserts.

“Hey lovebug, you go out and see your chickies?” Her grandmother asked, never losing focus of what she was doing.

“I did, they are all growing up so quick.” Y/N laid her head down on the table staring out of the window. Head fuzzy with anxiety and muddled thoughts.

“What happened to Harry?” Y/N’s head popped off of the table as she looked at her grandmother in confusion.

“How did you know something was up?”

“You're my grandbaby, I know everything about you. You've also been moping around my house so I knew something had happened.” She took a bowl down from the cabinets scooping a hot piece of peach crumble in the bowl and placed it in front of Y/N.

“Yeah, me and Harry split up. We just had a bad fight that put us in a weird place. He cheated on me.” She scooped crumble into her mouth trying to distract herself from her sadness.

“Oh love bug. I'm really sorry about that. Did you guys talk at all?” Placing a pie in the oven, her grandmother took a seat next to Y/N stealing a bite of crumble.

“He actually said goodbye to me before I came home. He gave me a Christmas gift too. I don't know, we didn't really say much. I miss him though. He was drunk when he cheated on me, which isn't an excuse but I think he was taken advantage of. I'm not mad about him cheating on me. I was mad at how he reacted to me. Like I was in the wrong for thinking about our relationship in the long run.”

“I understand. Can I be honest with you?” Crumble gone now, Y/N turned her body to face her grandmother. She shook her head to say yes. “You and Harry will be ok. It feels like the end right now but it isn't. It really isn't. I watched you two all of that one break and I saw a resilient couple who were going to go so far. This bump in the road can be fixed. Baby that boy looks at you like you are the whole universe.” You blushed at her words.

“What do I do then?”

“Well, I think you guys should enjoy this break. Take the time to reflect on what your relationship was and what it could be. Harrys going to go home and be surrounded by family as you are now, just let yourself enjoy that time. When he comes back for school, meet up again and talk. You both are adults- you know what to do.” You took in your grandmother's words. She always knew what to say.

“Why is it that you and mom always give me advice over food?” You laughed as she winked at you kissing you on the cheek.

“Food always makes people listen.”

When Wednesday finally arrived, Harry couldn't have been happier to go home. He had been on campus all alone and just feeling like shit. Maybe it was karma for how he treated Y/N. His heart felt hollow and even though he saw her before she left campus, he knew they still weren't ok. He wanted nothing more than to just be ok with his girl. The girl who makes him feel happiest on his darkest days. He doesn't understand how he would have ruined something so perfect.

At his gate at the airport, Harry sat staring at his phone waiting for something. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't deserve anything, especially because of how bad he messed up. He didn't plan on seeing Y/N last friday before she left but he didn't want to go home without seeing her face. He also spent all night writing her a letter that laid down his thoughts. He also wanted to give her a gift. He bought it at the beginning of the semester back home. He knew it was perfect for her the second he saw it.

“Welcome to British Airways, we are now boarding all priority passengers.”

Harry stood up collecting his carry on and started walking to the line forming in front of the gate. He checked his phone again. Nothing.

As the line moved forward. He checked again. Nothing.

He scanned his ticket. Checked again. Nothing.

Situating himself in his seat on the airplane, Harry didn't even bother checking his phone knowing nothing was there. He clicked his seatbelt over his lap and opened the window beside him to look outside.

His phone buzzing pulled him out of his thoughts. His breath hitched, heart lurching. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he turned the screen on.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

Have a safe flight Harry

Harry's eyes welled with tears.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

Thank you, love. It means a lot.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

I miss you Harry

A few of those tears tipped over the edge now rolling down his face.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

I miss you so much baby

And that was it. But that was all Harry needed to feel something again.

Y/N didn't know what compelled her to text Harry. She knows her grandmother told her to take some time but she just wanted to reach out to him. She wanted him to know that she was still here. She was still thinking of him and still wanted this. Whatever ‘this’ was.

Christmas eve came quickly, Y/N’s house filled with family members, food, and little children running around wreaking havoc. Y/N was sitting in her room staring at the drawer where the gift from Harry hid. She was scared to open it. Pushing that fear to the side, she walked over the drawer opening it and grabbing the box and envelope. She put the gift in her purse before grabbing her keys. She couldn't open the gift here. She needed to go somewhere quiet.

She said a quick goodbye to her parents and left the house in a hurry. She found herself parked at a small store's parking lot a few miles away from her house. She kept the car on for the heat but turned off the christmas tunes she had playing low in the background.

She opened her purse to pull the envelope out. Carefully ripping the top of the envelope she pulled out a stack of items. In the envelope were four photos and a handwritten letter. She saved the letter for last.

The first photo was of Harry and Y/N sitting on a bean bag in the library. Harry had the camera outstretched above their heads, Y/N with her face buried in a text book. This was taken in their first year during their first exam week. They were not exclusive yet but their friends knew how close they were- there was no one coming between the two of them. Y/N had been so stressed that week so Harry invited her to the library to eat lunch and study together. He helped her through some science homework which helped dramatically on her exam.

The second image was of Harry and Y/N at their favorite restaurant off campus. It was taken during their sophomore year during their one year anniversary. It was the week before spring break and they had just finished a round of midterms. Harry surprised her with a trip to her favorite restaurant. The waiter offered to take the picture because of how adorable the couple looked. In the picture they were holding hands, smiling wide to the camera. Y/N eyes welled up at how happy they looked together.

The third pic was taken during an event on campus at the end of their freshman year. It was a piece and love festival where different clubs hosted fun activities in hopes of promoting unity on campus. In the picture, Harry and Y/N were holding up braided string bracelets with beads that said their partners name. They always wore those bracelets after that day. Y/N looked down at the slightly faded bracelet on her wrist. Harrys name on her wrist reminding her that he is always with her no matter what. Cheesy as it may be but the cheap string with plastic was something she would never part with.

The last picture was taken on Y/N’s farm. It was by the barn where Harry and Y/N were chasing chickens. It was taken from a high angle from afar. Harry had her on his shoulder and they were both visibly laughing. They had matching overalls with embroidery done by Y/N's aunt. On the back of the picture, Y/N could recognize Harry's handwriting as it said, “Your Grandma emailed me this picture when we got back to campus. She said that she couldn't help but take the picture when she saw how happy you looked.” Y/N laughed at his sloppy handwriting and her grandmother's words.

The last piece of the envelope was the letter. Y/N slowly unraveled the folded paper, smoothing out the crinkles. Taking a deep breath she began reading.

Y/N,

In my eyes, our future is filled with love. I see us buying a small house in your home town because I know you love home. I know you also said you may want to live in a city so if our plans were to change, I could see us living in a small apartment, decorated by you of course, with bookshelves that towered to the ceiling and many plush blankets littering the rooms. I see us working hard during the day and enjoying each other during the evening when we come home. I see bubble baths and fun new dinner recipes. I see me bringing you flowers to brighten your day from a long day of work. I see us travelling to all of the places you have pinned on your “for the future” pinterest board. I see us having a small wedding, my family, your family, some friends and that's it. I'd let you do whatever you like for the wedding because I want to see you happy.

I see little ones. Direct copies of you and me running around in the backyard as we try chasing them and tickling them. I see bedtime stories and fun days at the park. Picnics in the meadow and swimming in the lake. Catching chickens and rough housing with the goats. Pasta sauce around the mouth after a good meal. Frozen yogurt with all of the toppings. I see everything with you. There's not a moment where I don't see us together. I think about our graduation and where we will be after graduation.

I see a future with you and I was an ass to say otherwise. You are everything to me. I should be doing more for our relationship like I used to. I want to take you out on more dates and shower you in gifts because you deserve it. I love you so much. Please don't give up on me and all of the memories we've created. I want it all with you.

School has been hurting me pretty bad and I took it out on you. I cheated on you because I was too drunk to think properly. I hurt the only person whose opinion I hold higher than anyone else's. We built a beautiful relationship of trust and boundaries and I ruined it for no reason. I want to do better. Please let me show you that I can do better.

I found this poem that reminded me of you. I know you like poems and this poem speaks for me wholly.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Have a lovely break and I hope to be able to see you after.

Love Harry.

His letter left the girl speechless. He said everything she wanted to hear. Looking at her phone she checked the time.

7:36 pm

Its about 12 am in london.

Without a second thought she opened Harry's facetime profile and pressed the call button.

Ring. Ring. Ri-

“Love? Are you alright? Did something happen?” Harry was quick to answer, looking half awake and flustered. Y/N broke down in tears immediately. “Y/N are you ok, baby?”

“Harry.” She wailed. It was embarrassing but all of the pent emotion she was holding in finally breached. She couldn't stop crying. Harry sat up from his laying down position in bed holding the phone closer to his face to inspect his girl.

“It's ok bubs, whatever it is, it's ok. I promise it's ok.” Harry tries consoling the girl. Her tears reduced to small sniffles.

“I read your letter Harry. It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I want it all with you too. I've always wanted it with you. Since the day we met Harry.” He let out a watery laugh so overwhelmed with emotions. She wiped her face of tears looking back at the letter next to her.

“Y/N I love you so much. I do. I know I'm not that good at expressing my emotions but I do want a future with you. I'm hurting knowing I hurt the best thing that's ever happened to me.” His tears continued to flow freely.

“It's ok Harry. I'm not mad anymore. I'm not hurt either I promise. I think I was more upset that we were done. I don't want us to be done. I really don't.”

“I don't want us to be done either. I really want to marry you. Maybe not right now but in time I wanna get married.” He paused, wiping his face. “I wanna get married on your farm, maybe put the chickies in little tuxedos.” She giggled at his proposition.

“They would hate you even more if you did that.” They shared a laugh and then some silence. “I guess it's technically Christmas over there huh? Well Merry Christmas H.”

“It is christmas isn't it? Merry Christmas bubs. Did you open the box?” She grabbed the box next to her to show Harry shaking her head. She unwrapped the paper and revealed a box with a logo she wasn't familiar with.

“What's this?” He encouraged her to keep opening the gift. Lifting the top of the box she let out a loud gasp upon seeing a beautiful gold bracelet sitting on a satin pillow. She placed her phone on the phone stand on her dashboard so she could have both hands to look at the bracelet. The bracelet was gold and thin with a nameplate in the middle. Engraved on the nameplate was Harry's name.

“You went silent on me...Do you like it?” Y/N couldn't stop looking at the bracelet in her hand.

“Harry...It's gorgeous. It's so gorgeous.” She whispered. She slid the perfectly fit bracelet on her hand watching it fall in front of her handmade bracelet. The two bracelets adorned her wrist perfectly. “I love you so much H.”

“I love you too, I do. I can't wait to see you in person and talk.” He replies with his heart clenching in a good way, watching his girl smile happily at her gift.

“Om bubby, I'll let you go to sleep. I love you, spend time with your family and then come back to me as the same Harry I fell in love with.” He smiled, whispering goodnight and hanging up.

Going home that night, Y/N’s family watched her come back into the house walking lighter on her feet and looking happier than she did when she came home from school. She showed her bracelet off to her parents as her grandmother made her a plate of food. She smiled at everyone and talked the whole night. Her grandmother watched from afar feeling her heart fill with joy at her granddaughter's happiness.

As Christmas break went on Harry and Y/N continued to keep their relationship moving slowly. Only calling each other once a day and giving each the much needed space to heal with their respective family. Y/N facetimed him on christmas giving him a youtuber esq. Haul of all of her gifts while he laughed at her silliness. He did the same thing with half the enthusiasm.

As move in day approached, Y/N felt herself becoming worried about her relationship. She worried that when she saw Harry, their relationship would slowly deteriorate. Little did she know that she had no reason to be so afraid. Harry was on his flight back to school ready to hug and hold his girl. He was ready to reunite and be the couple they used to be. He was ready to be a better partner for his girl.

“Alright girly, looks like we got everything squished in your car. Are you sure you've got everything?” Y/N’s mom asked sarcastically. Y/N huffed shoving another bag in the passenger seat.

“Yup that should be it.”

“Ok, well you give me a hug and get going.” Y/N rushed into her mom's arms. Her mom kissed her on the forehead and left Y/N and her grandmother to talk on their own.

“Bye grandma, i'm going to miss you.” Her grandmother held her arms tight.

“You get back to campus and see that boy ok? You go and be in love. You too are old enough to know what you want and this relationship is something you obviously both want.”

Kissing her grandma goodbye, she got in her car and started her drive back to school.

It only took Y/N one trip from her car to her dorm to unload all of her belongings. She was able to snag one of the big trolleys to push her things inside. She watched as friends reunited, she even said hi to a few of her friends but her mind was set on one person. She grabbed her wallet and phone from her dorm and left quickly on a journey to get to Harry’s frat.

The air was cool but Y/N felt warm from how quickly she was booking it to Harry. Harry, just like Y/N, immediately left his room to see Y/N. Having not seen her in a month and some of exam week- he couldn't wait to see her. Harry saw Y/N’s familiar face walking down the sidewalk of his frat and he stopped in his tracks. She smiled her bright, beautiful smile before running over to where he stood. Her arms hooked around his neck as his arms adjusted around her waist. He stumbled a bit from the force of her hug but stood his ground nonetheless.

She held him tight, legs bound around his waist, a few stray tears falling from her eyes. He held her just as tightly, hands tightly holding her thighs and back.

“Hi bubby.” She said in his ear, face burrowed in his neck. He set her down and reached for her face.

‘Hi baby.” She blushed at his nickname. They looked into each other's eyes and time froze like it always did between them. Y/N broke theri moment by pulling his face to hers. They kissed like they hadnt kissed in years. To them the time they spent away from each other felt like years. Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. Pulling apart, Harry stared down at his heart, tears begging to be free. He opened his mouth to say something and she stopped him.

“It's ok Harry. My baby, it's ok. We are ok.”

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

Taglist: marlananicole17

#harry styles x reader #frat!harry #i carry your heart #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #college!harry #harry styles smut #fratrry #boyfriend!harry

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ceciliablossoms · 3 years

Note

I just read the whiskey angst and i cried a bit 😭 can i request Fruit Punch + Absinthe after that the reader feel stressed and go for a walk outside but are attacked by Abiss Mages and seriously injured and Diluc / Childe / Kaeya is surprised when the reader return with a pathetic form but the reader don't want them to touch them pls 😭😭😭 REVERSE UNO

I genuinely wasn't expecting people to like that one enough to request a sequel. I originally had no intention of making a sequel but with so many people asking how can I not?

Haha.. I couldn't sleep again...

The Whiskey fic

TW: Mentions of Injury, Swearing, Self Hatred

Absinthe: “Get out of my sight! I don’t fucking want you here!”

Fruit Punch: “Why are you bleeding!? What the hell happened?!”

-------

Diluc

It had been several days since he had last seen them and honestly speaking the man was a mess. What he said hadn't fully sunk in until he finished his work and upon realising that he had made a severe error, a pit formed in his stomach.

He was extremely disgusted with himself. Nobody should ever talk to their significant other in such a way under any circumstances. Not only that but he had also called them a hindrance when they had only been trying to help him. Pathetic.

He ended up seeking them out, arriving at their small house in Mondstadt. He had approached their door as they were exiting their home. They visibly bristled.

As the days passed they wallowed less, sadness and dejection becoming anger. How DARE he have the AUDACITY to talk to them like that? To treat them as though they were holding him back?

“Get out of my sight! I don't fucking want you here!”

He didn't even flinch out their outburst. He deserved it, "I have... come to apologise for my actions. I-"

"Didn't mean it? Save your words. I don't wish to hear it." They pushed past him. "I'm going for a walk. Don't follow me."

He watched as they exited the gates, steam practically pouring from their ears. As much as he wished to apologise, craved to say that he was sorry, he was sure that they wouldn't have it. But, he sat on the stairs to their house regardless and waited for their return. Whether they would accept it or not he was still going to try to make amends.

He didn't know how long he sat there waiting but they still had yet to return. The worry had long set in, hitting its peak when there was a small commotion at the gate. They pushed past Swan, who was following after them in a panic.

They walked with a limp, blood seeping through the hand that clenched their shoulder tightly. A cut adorned their face from temple to jaw. It too was bleeding heavily.

Diluc approached them with haste, alerted by their state, "Why are you bleeding?! What the hell happened!?"

They pushed past him too as he reached out to them, "Don't.... touch me..."

Diluc glared at Swan as a way to tell him to go back to his post. He jumped but obliged nonetheless as Diluc began to follow after them. Grabbing their non-injured shoulder in his gloved hand, he tugged them gently to stop them from moving.

His tone was stern, "You do not have to speak with me nor do you have to accept my apology. But you will get those injuries tended to even if I have to drag you to the church myself."

They pulled themselves from his grip, out of breath and tired, "Why is it that you care? I'm but a hindrance remember. Even as we speak I am obstructing you."

"If those were my feelings I wouldn't be here. I don't expect forgiveness but I would still like to let you know that what I said doesn't define how I feel for you. That is of little importance right now. Your injuries need to be dealt with"

They said nothing, looking off to the side. Sluggishly they move towards their home again, quietly ushering for him to follow. "I have plenty of medical supplies of my own." They paused, "When my injuries heal, I expect an apology in full. And as for my trust... You'll have to work for it."

He was relieved. Their words suggested that there was a still a chance for him.

Tartaglia

It took him a while to calm down. After all, he did tend to brood on things until they festered. At first, he only got angrier. Angry that the cheater got away with it. Angry that they sided with the cheater. Angry that they helped the cheater.

He thought about it more though, and the more he rationalised the more he calmed down. They didn't really side with him, did they? They only helped him because he would have bled out had they not. As much as he wanted to beat the man's ass all over again, he let it slide. Killing him would be a waste anyway. Instead he would let the man's near death experience serve as a reminder.

When he was fully calm, he sought them out, their words echoing in the back of his head. 'Talk to me when you're fucking sane', they had said. Had his actions truly made them feel that way? Or was it in anger just as his words had been?

He checked Bubu Pharmacy first, seeing neither them nor the cheater. He assumed it was because the cheater was in the back getting treatment and that they had gone on their merry way. The search continued.

His hunt continued all across the harbour and he was unable to tell if they were going out of their way to avoid him or if he was looking in all the wrong places. Finally, he resorted to asking around, getting a couple tidbits of information from some Milileth.

He was told that they were seen exiting the harbour and that seemed extremely miffed. So retracing their steps, he left the harbour as well, following along the path that led toward Guili Plains.

He continued to follow the path until Wangshu Inn appeared in the distance and quietly pondered why they came out this far. Something seemed off though. Halting his movements, he scanned the area, sapphire eyes landing on a familiar silhouette sitting at the base of an apple tree.

He was unaware of how long they'd been sitting there when he approached, but there they were an apple in hand. They finished mid chewing and spoke after they swallowed the fruit in their mouth.

"Get out of my sight. I don't fucking want you here." Despite their icy tone, he knew that they weren't angry anymore. They did, however, want to be left alone though he did not oblige.

His eyes travelled to the blood that coloured the grass beneath them. There was a teasing edge to his voice as he tried to lighten the mood, "Why are you bleeding? What happened, hm? Get in a fight without me?"

Finding each other bloody was nothing new to either of them and playing it up was a game of sorts. An inside joke if you will. Most of the time he acted like a worried spouse for them and vice versa, but at this moment it was genuine worry. They scoffed.

"Yes, but unlike you, I don't try to kill men on the street."

He held up his hands in defeat before sitting down across from them, "Not gonna let me live it down, are you?"

They rolled their eyes, leaning their head against the tree trunk, "It happened a few hours ago. But you get a free pass because I don't have the energy to debate right now."

He moved to check their injury and they slapped his hands away with a quiet 'Don't touch me'. Yet he continued to eye it warily, staring at their face as if to ask permission. His gaze was gentle, genuine worry spread across his face. They caved after several minutes, looking away.

Pulling their shirt up to reveal the injury on their hip, it appeared as though they tried to cauterize it. With a sigh, he stood and held his hand out to help then up. After a moment of hesitation, they accepted his hand and immediately after they stood he crouched in front of them and signalled for them to get on his back. They obliged and he carried them back to the city.

"Don't think that this means I forgive you for what you said to me."

For once he didn't feel like teasing, knowing that it wouldn't help mend the situation, "I know. I do wish to apologise though. My words were... unnecessary. I took my anger out on you."

"Damn right." They patted his head, "Though if you're a good boy I might forgive you faster."

He sighed, fully aware that they were going to use him as an errand boy for the next few days.

Kaeya

He continued after their encounter as though nothing had happened at all. The silence that filled his office after they left was deafening but he took the time to finish his work. All of the paperwork that had piled up and all the tedious remedial tasks had been finished, the rest of his duties taken care of as well.

Days passed before he finally decided to confront them, and over that period his the guilt over his cruelty toward them festered. He was fully aware that they were trying to help, trying to make his workload lighter, yet he still snapped at them.

If he hadn't taken out his frustration on them then the two would be together right now. If he had just let them help will all of it then we would have gotten done much faster and gotten to relax much sooner. The stack they did do, however, was the biggest one from the piles which did shorten the time he was working. If only he hadn't scared them away.

He began his search for them at their home, finding it empty. Thinking for a moment, he began to check the usual places they went when they were upset. As he headed to Windrise it turned out that he didn't have to look far, for they were limping over the bridge that led into the city.

They were bleeding heavily from their chest, hand clutching the wound with unspoken panic. He rushed toward them, reaching out to support their body weight.

His voice was demanding, "Why are you bleeding?! What the hell happened?"

"It was just an Abyss Mage. Get out of my sight! I don't fucking want you here."

He knew he deserved their scalding words but that didn't stop him from trying. He held his tongue to stop a smart ass comment. Usually, he wouldn't hold back but he knew this wasn't the time.

"You may not want me here, but if you don't get some help you'll bleed out before you can make it to the cathedral." He spoke calmly despite his internal conflict, and they knew that he had a point.

Begrudgingly they leaned against him as he escorted them through town. Moving hurt as it aggravated their injury but it was necessary. As soon as they got inside the cathedral he called for Barbara who appeared around the corner. Her face contorted in horror as she escorted them to the infirmary.

Kaeya sat amongst the pews and waited, having an internal debate with himself. Would they forgive him? Would they even hear him out?

Hours passed before Barbara remerged with news of their condition. He could see them but they could not leave for a while. With caution, he entered, knocking on the door frame to get their attention.

They turned their head in his direction but scowled when they realised that it was him. "Do you need something?"

He hummed, "No but you do." Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took their hands in his, "I wanted to apologise. Both for what I said to you and for taking your kindness for granted."

They stared him down but say nothing but sincerity in his eyes, "I'm listening."

He was slightly caught off guard by their response, nevertheless though it made him happy. They fact that they were willing to listen showed that there was a possibility for forgiveness.

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a-vild-bluemyrtle · 3 years

Text

Gaea - The blooming Spirit

Seth Clearwater x Female OC | 10 years after Breaking Dawn | OC with Earth Powers

Also on: AO3 - FF.net

________________________________

Request from @purpledragon04: Can you write a Seth Clearwater x reader where she has earth elements.

I'm sorry it took me all this time to write this down, but I fell into a rabbit hole and I just lost all my creativity. I still hope you like this :))

Requests are still open, Twilight Wolfpack only!

It took me all my mental strength to finally go out from the house, from my garden in particular and get some fresh air. Lately, all I have been doing is lying in our glasshouse and taking care of my flowers. I didn’t adapt that much to the new town, to the cold and rainy days, to the lack of sunshine and especially the lack of flowers. Green was the predominant colour, together with grey. Green was all I could see since we moved to Forks. And grey was all I could feel, no matter how hard I tried.

Leaving my beloved Alsace was harder than I thought, especially because of my powers. They grew there, they got stronger there, I could move mountains, trees, I could grow roses, lilies, tulips wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I could make strawberries and cherries gems bloom in autumn If I wanted. While in Forks... it was like they just got weaker and I was getting weaker with them.

There was something in that town that just sucked the life out of me, I couldn't feel any connection with the grass, the trees, with the animals and no one could figure out why.

I was used to attracting animals, playing with them, to cuddle them in those endless French summers. There was this innate curiosity in them for me, because of my powers. Controlling the element of earth meant not only being able to let nature grow around me or on me – uncountable were the times I let flowers grow in my hair - but it also came with the ability to be connected to animals, understand them even without speaking the same language. I was used to birds flying to me and sit on my fingers or shoulders just with a tiny whistle or ladybugs quickly crawling on my bare feet.

In Forks I could whistle as much as I wanted, no one ever came. I could stay sit on the grass and no flower could grow.

“This forest considers you a treat, ma chérie. You’re a stranger here, a frightful one I would say. The trees and the animals do not know your powers, it is something never seen here.” My father used to say the first days but the more those days passed the more concerned he became. To not talk about my mother, she was almost hysterical and when she saw me dressed up to go somewhere different from the usual glasshouse, she almost cried.

“Isn’t it a little too much, Maman?” I asked furrowing my brows and questioning if mental sanity was still present in our house.

“You have not gone out since we moved, mon chou” – she started while I rolled my eyes.

“And I haven’t seen you wearing something different from sweatpants and t-shirts for 2 months. I’m just happy to see you in one of your colourful dresses”. She said, gifting me with one of her sweetest smiles.

My mother was the epithet of sweetness and kindness and it was from her that I inherited my powers. On my 16th birthday they flowed from her to me and, if I’ll have a daughter, one day it will happen to us too. My powers will be hers and she will pass to her daughter, and her daughter to her daughter and so on. All the women in our bloodline will always carry the Nature genes (another of my father’s names, who was really into X-Men).

“Anyway, I’m going exploring. Don’t wait for me. If we are lucky enough, I’ll find out why my powers do not work here”, I said while grabbing my pink purse and opening the front door.

“Don’t let the trees catch you, chérie”, my father said smirking. I was waiting for the day in which he’ll finally stop saying such horrible dad jokes. Especially the inside jokes only we could understand.

It was raining outside, like every day in that town, but bringing an umbrella with me was out of discussion. I have never felt so distant from Mother Nature since we moved here, so a little bit of rain pouring down on my bare skin would have been a blessing in disguise. The best sensation in the world: being outside while it was raining, especially during the summer. The only problem was that it was autumn in Forks, and I could have easily caught a cold… still I didn’t mind at all.

----

Hours? Months? Years? I don’t even remember how much time I spent that day in the forest strolling around without really thinking where I was going. At some point, while it was still raining, I also took off my shoes and started walking on the muddy and cold soil with bare feet – which may sound disgusting, but once you try how good it feels to just walk without shoes and feeling every inch of the forest under your feet, you’ll never stop doing it.

As I imagined, no traces of animals or plants moving or whatsoever. There was a strange and ominous silence throughout the forest. No birds were chirping, no snakes slithering, no deer jumping around.

When I got out of the house, I was full of hope, I truly believed that all that negative energy was all in my head, that I could fix whatever was happening at that time. But the more I walked the more I started losing that hope. I couldn’t feel anything.

Arrived at a river, I decided to sit down for a moment. The rain stopped a few moments back. I sat on the riverbank and let my feet fell into the cold – freezing – water as I wasn’t enough wet from head to toe. I sat there, sighing and biting my bottom lips in frustration. Why? Why my powers didn’t work? Was it my fault? Of course it was, it’s never Mother Nature’s fault, it’s always mine. Whatever I was, a collateral effect, a special genes carrier or simply a freak, that forest knew.

Another louder sigh came out of my mouth, almost in a desperate attempt to not start crying. I laid down, on the pebbles surrounding the riverbank and what my eyes saw at that moment freaked me out in ways I could have never imagined.

Two dark brown eyes were looking at me, were curiously observing me from the treeline and they did not belong to another human being. I froze in that position, lying on the pebbles with my nose up in the air and my eyes locked into his.

Only years later I understood what was happening at that moment, only after a couple of months later I found out who was hiding in the treeline, to whom those eyes belonged.

At that moment, though, my brain just shut down and there was nothing I could think of. I was scared but at the same time excited. After two months I finally felt something, and even if it were not positive emotions at least they were some kind of emotions.

I slowly got up on my feet, trying to be as subtle as possible so to not instigate the wolf t – or horse, better – to attack me. Our eyes were still onto each other's, my gaze never leaving his and there was something in him that tangled me.

The rain started pouring down again the moment I decided to take a step forward towards him. At the same moment, he seemed to be scared of me and took a step back, his head tilted to one side, his eyes digging into mine trying to figure everything out.

There was some sort of connection happening between me and that wolf, which fur reminded me of the colour of the sand, or more precisely of the colour of the light in the late afternoon in Alsace. And I would have never imagined what that moment meant for my future, not really far as I imagined it was.

We stayed like that, frozen in time and space, under the rain, looking at each other until we realized, or at least he realized – I would have realized a lot later, I had all the hints in front of my eyes and still didn’t have a clue. No words were spoken, not a single one, the only sounds were the thunders and the rain falling from the sky, and our heartbeats – his way faster than mine.

----

“Still daydreaming, darling?” His sweet voice wakes me up and I shake my head smiling when he puts his warm hand on my shoulder. I don’t think I will ever get used to his warmth, every time he touches me I sweetly shiver.

“Mh… yes”. I whisper, more to myself than to him, absolutely sure that he can still hear me clearly.

He hugs me from behind, trying to find the exact spot I’m still looking at outside our window.

“What is it? A deer? Again?” he whispers to my ear, leaving soft kisses on the side of my neck.

I intertwine his fingers with mine and tilt the head a little, so he has more space to kiss me.

“No, no deer at all, baby”, I reply, closing my eyes and enjoying the overwhelming sensation his kisses and hugs were making me feel. He holds me closer and I can’t help to smile more, thinking about everything that happened since the moment we met.

“It’s raining, exactly like that day”. I turn my head to look at him, at those same eyes that turned me upside down on that pouring day years ago.

Those same eyes that haunted me in my sleep until I found out to whom they belonged: to a sweet, gentle man, with arms and legs covered in tattoos, with hairs longer than mine who I fell in love with instantly and married one night on a beach without telling anyone else. A wonderful man I'm lucky enough to call my husband, the love of my life.

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One] Taehyung should be fucking you. It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus. The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it. Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you. “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.” “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.” “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar. You suppose it was your fault to begin with. All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive. The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind. “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?” It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere. “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!” There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs. The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter. Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed. “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old. “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword. You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort. “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!” You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you. “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.” He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.” Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!” There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel. Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.” She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs. Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!” “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.” It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims. “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.” The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt. “Not too bad, right?” Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt. “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.” “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?” “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.” But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch. And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?” You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.” “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.” You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.” You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand. “Is that...even sanitary?!” You can’t imagine how many people have used it. “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.” “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.” Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?” “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.” Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here. “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well. When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate. “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period. “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another. “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.” “Damn straight.” The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.” You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?” “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.” She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs. Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.” “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation. “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.” “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.” “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.” Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.” It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night. The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious. It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide. “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!” Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.” “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks. After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet. It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling. The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it. Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?” “Mhmh...” You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket. “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?” “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?” “About half an hour?” Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth. “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.” You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush. In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember. And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband. Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?” “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.” He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.” You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.” A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.” “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.” “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.” After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two] Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows. “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting. “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.” “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.” “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—” “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him. It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible. Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics. “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!” “Don’t you trust me?” You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?” The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do. There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses. You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun. Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.” You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions. “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.” “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been. But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too. “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.” What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard. “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.” You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy. “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.” Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.” You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt. The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times. “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo. “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?” “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?” Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.” “We’re going on a hike?!” “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation. The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join. Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline. No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group. Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?” “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are. “I can carry you if you want.” “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs. You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac. “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again. “Isn’t this better?” “Aren’t you tired?” “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.” You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall. There, you’re finally on set on your feet again. You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.” He grins and downs it. Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts. “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient. “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.” “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.” “I can take it for you.” “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing. A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?” Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.” She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.” Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.” The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?” “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.” It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish. “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.” Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?” You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.” “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone. “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.” His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.” “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents. “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.” Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.” She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.” “T-two weeks?” you sputter. Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.” Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman. It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood. “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.” “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.” Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.” “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously. Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?” “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.” She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…” But his voice drowns out. You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you. The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt. “What’s wrong?” You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?” “You’ve just been quiet.” “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?” His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?” “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.” “That’s not true.” “We forget to buy food all the time.” “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins. You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.” “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.” “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.” You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.” “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.” “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile. Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.” You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it. It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.” It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub. “Is it warm?” Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled. “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?” “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink. “What are you doing?” “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties. After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver. “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!” Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and— “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac. “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?” “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.” You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?” “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air. You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude. You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge. Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek. “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder. He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.” “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule. “Let them hear.” He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness. Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try. Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.” “Yeah, and I know you like it.” He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach. “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?” “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.” “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control. The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist. Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?” You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it. “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.” “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.” A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices. “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.” “What?” “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed. He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?” “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.” “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.” “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.” “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff. Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance. You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully. “How was it?” “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder. “No.” “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.” “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?” “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.” You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg. Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?” “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.” “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?” “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room. Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles. With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction. “Okay. Ready?” “Uh-huh.” The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.” “Now what?” “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble. “T-Taehyung!” “Good?” “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote. He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.” Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!” “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard. It clatters to the ground. “Oh shit.” “Taehyung!” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.” He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma. You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy. The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons. “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.” “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.” Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.” He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him. When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat. He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.” “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck. “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.” It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing. He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm. “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.” He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.” Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three] There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all. “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil. “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table. Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you. You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do. But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!” You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.” Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?” Taehyung grins. “Probably.” “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?” “Sure.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself. It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you. Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot. But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge. “Remember Bali?” “When you lost your passport?” “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.” “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.” He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.” You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?” “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?” You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.” “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.” “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?” “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.” “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?” None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.” “You and I both know that’s not true.” “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water. There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠— “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has. “What?” “Wanna take a dip?” Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?” “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does. “God, it’s so cold!” The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you. “It’s freezing, Taehyung!” “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?” You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.” “Why?” “You know I can’t swim.” His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.” Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.” “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.” “You only like me?” “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.” Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff. You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore. “Who would?” “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.” “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you. The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds. “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat. After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again. You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock. He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four] Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before. He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone. But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you. Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls. “Morning.” You sheepishly grin. “Morning.” “What time did you get up?” “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.” “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun. The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over. “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.” But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering. Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin. “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.” He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile. As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy. // The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks. “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…” “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.” What. Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.” “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.” “What were you talking about?” “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.” “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.” “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.” You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.” The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.” As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?” “Yeah. It was nice.” Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly. As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.” “Second...partner?” “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.” “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away. “Do you want an open relationship too?” “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.” He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?” “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?” “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.” Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife. “Are you jealous?” “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.” “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins. “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.” // Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner. “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.” You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—” “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.” You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.” Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.” “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?” It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees. The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off. But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists. You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too. He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round. You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five] The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.” “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.” “Yes, I really loved it.” “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.” You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures. “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.” “So soon?” Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands. Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes. Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats. “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.” He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours. The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue] This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous. “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes. “Are you divorcing me?” “No.” “Did you lose your job?” “No.” His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.” “Yea— wait. What?” Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?” He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion. “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.” He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks. It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face. “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs. “I sure am.” He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?” You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.” He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.” Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement. “We can always go back for the next kid.” “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.” “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile. You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fluff #FINALLY i can use the smut tag again looooool #BTS TAEHYUNG AS A SWEET GUY WHO'S NOT AS SWEET IN THE SHEETS #AND OC AS A GRUMBLING SIMP FOR HER HUSBAND

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sinkix · 4 years

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Haikyuu!! │Boys reaction to you calling them ‘Daddy’│ Ft. Daichi, Iwaizumi, Kuroo & Kageyama

Okay SO, I took inspo from @animewh0re ‘s ‘Kuroo Tetsurou x Accidental Daddy HC’ post so big shout out to her ly bb - be sure to give them a follow <3

For this post I picked some of the characters I felt would be more likely to have a daddy kink so their reactions would be the most interesting/comical whether the reader was doing it was intentionally or not. There were some others I had in mind that I may make into a second part. I got a little carried away writing these as you will see lmao, oopsie.

! All characters are 18+ - Contains NSFW content !

My Ko-fi - Because a caffeinated Kix is a productive one.

Without further ado, enjoy ! ~

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･

Daichi:

I feel like Daichi low-key already knew he had a daddy kink

Like somewhere deep in that dudes soul he just had a fuckin hunch.

However he never brought it up to you because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, being the kind and considerate dude he is.

One night you were both just relaxing and watching a movie, he was tracing his finger along your thigh because let’s face it he is 100% a thigh man.

At some point you began getting restless, so you shifted yourself to face him, propping yourself up against his knee as you leaned down to kiss him, cupping your hands around his cheeks. He grunts in approval, cheekily sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass, using the moment of surprise to slide his tongue in and deepen the kiss. He’s pretty crafty when he wants to be.

After a few minutes you could feel yourself growing impatient, raising the hem of your baggy shirt and grinding your clothed slit against the ridges of his thigh.

Daichi’s weakness #8 activated, thigh riding.

He drags his palms against your hips, taking control of your vigorous movements and forcing more pressure against your cunt and causing you to whimper. Lowering your head next to his, soft moans grace against the shell of his ear in wisps that send shivers down his spine.

You can sense Daichi’s own dwindling patience as the momentum becomes desperate with the way he’s now hastily grinding your hips down onto him, groaning at the sensation of your juices dripping through the thin fabric and cooling against the skin of his thigh.

All of a sudden a long and breathy “Mhmmm~ daddy” escapes your lips, and this dude is so taken aback.

Snapping your head up to face him, his eyes are glazed over with an intensity enough to make your core tremble, your cheeks flushing at the realisation of what you just blurted out starts to sink in.

“Fuck, I want to hear you say that again baby.”

Without warning he flips you over and on to the couch, hovering over you as his hips buck against the wetness covering your clothed core, eliciting more moans as he sucks on the tender skin of your neck.

“A-ah daddy...”

“more.”

His tone was desperate and commanding, only further igniting the pleasure growing between the two of you.

Trailing his hands down to the edge of your underwear and slipping them inside, his fingers find their way to your clit and rub the area in soft, circular motions, sucking harder against the skin of your neck and streeling his tongue along the bruised aftermaths.

“Daddy..”

“Again.”

You didn’t pay any mind to the rest of the movie, and you both had a lot of fun with this new found kink the two of you shared.

Iwaizumi:

Since Iwa radiates big dom energy and you cannot convince me otherwise, I feel like he is also one that just has a hunch that this is something he’s into.

You already have a hella Dom x Sub relationship sexually so this experimentation was probably long awaited. A slip up no less, and an embarrassing one.

It was a late Friday evening after school, the sun was already long gone yet you were still helping Iwa and Oikawa practise by tossing for them as many times as they requested. How they weren’t already beyond the point of burn out you didn’t know.

Glancing at the wall clock which read ‘8:23pm’, Iwa huffed and rubbed the back of his head. “All right, it’s time to call it a night.” “But Iwa-chaaaann--” Oikawa interjected. “No. Plus, I’m sure (Y/N) is exhausted by now hm?” He whips round to face you and you nod in agreement, eyes hooding from fatigue at the long days events. “Fineee.” Oikawa grumbles, pouting his lips playfully and sending you a wink, rolling your eyes and sticking your tongue out at him in response.

A few minutes later, most of the balls and club equipment are packed away. You’re tossing the last few balls into the basket when Iwa saunters up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist which sends the ball tumbling across the floor.

“Ah, daddy don’t-”

silence.

Pure. utter. silence.

The words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.

The sound of the ball rolling echoes throughout the room and you can feel Iwa’s entire body tense up while in his hold, hands digging into your hips as he lets out a low grunt. You sheepishly look in Oikawa’s direction, who’s shooting you both a glance as if to say ‘so this what y’all get up to?’ Attempting to stifle his snickers and the sudden light his face has been brightened with.

Little did he know this was the first time you had actually called him that, and it was raging a lustful fire through his body. The body now roughly thrusted up against you.

You had a feeling Iwa would never hear the end of this.

Walking a fine line between pressing against your body and full on grinding, he utters his next few words as abruptly as possible.

“You can head on out Oikawa, me and (Y/N) will finish up cleaning.”

This only furthers his amusement, the cogs in his head turning as he gives a quick nod, strolling toward the gym doors painstakingly slow as if savouring every last ounce of tension brewing in the air. “Ooookay, have fun, daddy-chan.” The howls of his laughter can be heard even after the doors swing shut, you two stay rigid until his voice fades off in the distance.

“Follow me, now.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs you by the wrist and drags you into the storage room, slamming you against the locker, he stares down at you hungrily as his lips crash against yours, hands ravaging every curve of your body. Pulling away, a string of saliva connects as his lips brush against the crook of your neck. “I want you to say that again, little slut.” Snaking into the waistband of your shorts and dragging a digit against your slit, the words flow out effortlessly. “D-daddy please...”

“Fuck, I’m going to have so much fun with you, kitten.”

And fun with you he did.

Kuroo:

Y’all are always clowning and pulling some buffoonery on each other so this time you figured you’d kick it up a notch.

Kenma and Kuroo were talking while the rest of the team were doing warm-down stretches after practise.

Cue operation ‘Make Kuroo squirm’. Commencing stage 1.

Lingering behind Kuroo, you rest your chin on his shoulder and fold your arms around his waist, pulling him in for one of your behind-hugs that he adores.

oh how naive he was.

Swaying lovingly from side to side, you take the opportunity when Kenma looks away. With the most innocent of tones you could muster, you tilt your head upward, dragging your teeth gently against the lobe of his ear, and strike.

“Daaaaddy?”

When I tell you homeboys body freezes up, I mean that shit is like an iceberg that could cause Titanic 2.0

Kuroo whips his head round to face you, wide-eyed and eyebrow cocked as if to say ‘damn you really just went there?’

You smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes and feigning an innocence which you know drives him up the wall, a ‘try me bitch’ expression darting in your eyes.

He smirks at this, huffing under his breath so quietly it’s barely audible.

“You’re so in for it later, kitten.”

You knew this, but it was more than worth seeing him suffer for the time being.

Kenma’s attention is now directed back to Kuroo after watching Lev get tangled in the volley net like a fly done dirty by the Darwin theory.

Commence stage 2.

They continue their conversation, all the while your hand is roaming stealthily under his shirt, trailing along every line, curve and crevice of his abs and pectoral region.

Kuroo is whipped for the sensation of you feeling him up, he won’t ever admit to it but he caves under your touch.

You feel his posture stiffen as your hands hover above the region of his crotch.

Gotcha.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” Your voice is only loud enough for Kuroo to hear, and judging by the way Kenma looks at him next you can imagine his face is nothing short of priceless.

Pudding head senses something awry with Kuroo because my guy looks well and truly stumped.

“Uh, excuse us a sec.”

Kuroo without warning flings your body over his shoulder and strolls toward the gyms entrance. You playfully whack his back with your fists and flail your legs, barking at him to let go. The whole team turns their attention to you and laughs.

“Get some (Y/N)! Lev hollers, and the last thing you see is Yaku slapping him up-side the head before the doors close.

Placing you back on your feet, he doesn’t give you a second to adjust before kabe-donning you against the building wall, the rain only further adding to the steamy atmosphere you had created.

Grabbing your wrist and guiding it to his shorts, your fingertips brush against the tent straining against the crimson fabric.

“See how hard you’ve made me princess? I can’t go ahead with the team meeting like this. Be a good slut for daddy and get on your knees, I’ll gladly make a mess of that pretty little face.”

You comply, shivering as the damp grass caresses the skin of your knees.

“You like calling me daddy, huh? That turn my little whore on?” Kuroo grunts, thrusting himself repeatedly into the back of your throat until his balls touch your chin. Tears well in your field of vision and start streaming down your cheeks which he wipes away tenderly. “Well, I’ll make sure you call me that more often.”

10 minutes and a very sore throat later, you both finish up and Kuroo looks more than satisfied, running his fingers through your disheveled hair and marvelling at the mess he made of your makeup.

“Clean yourself up in the restroom princess, I’ll see you back inside and we’ll continue this later. I’m far from done.”

With a sly smirk and a peck on the cheek, he walks back into the gym.

Needless to say he’s definitely going to make you call him daddy from now on, and you got many suggestive stares when you made your embarrassing debut back into the gym.

Kageyama:

Okay so the thought has probably never crossed Kags mind since his head is filled with like 98% volleyball.

The other 2% being the undying love he has for you. But hey, 2% is still 2%, I’ll take it.

Your sex life was although very satisfying, pretty vanilla. The only time it got really intense was if Kags had a bad day or was bubbling with jealousy, in which case a surprising and un-tamable dom side of him emerges.

This often made you ponder what would happen if you addressed him under a title with said connotations. The curiosity of how he would react was slowly ebbing away at you.

So one day, being the scheming little shit you are, decided to test the waters.

The day had started off pretty well, it was a Saturday and you were taking a walk around town.

Kags wanted to grab some snacks so you headed to the store, agreeing to wait outside.

A few minutes go by and he still hasn’t come out, however the roaming eyes of a guy opposite left you feeling incredibly uneasy.

You shifted in place awkwardly, until he decides to approach you.

Up close he was sleazy, with a menacing glint in his eyes that made you recoil.

Resting his elbow on the wall beside you, he leans in way too close for comfort.

“Hi baby, you’re not with anyone are you? Mind giving me your number?”

His voice was low and threatening, as if daring you to decline his order than was snidely masked as an offer.

Mustering up all the courage you had, you raised your chin and stared up at him defiantly. “No, I have a boyfriend.”

He chuckles at this, leaning in closer and challenging you further.

“Well, I don’t see him.”

“I’m right here.”

There Kags was, standing outside the entryway to the store, bearing the most livid expression you had ever seen. You’re pretty sure there were flames surrounding his aura.

The guy backs up, letting out a causal whistle before wordlessly turning in the other direction, leaving the two of you alone again at last.

“Tobio wha-”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fi-”

“We’re going home.”

The walk was silent and you could sense the tension in the surrounding atmosphere.

After opening the door and tossing the bags to the side, Kags pins you against the front door and pulls you in for a fervid make out, intertwining your tongues and fighting for the dominance which he easily obtains.

He runs his hands ravenously over every inch of your upper body, making his way down south until he reaches your underwear, using one hand to grind his digits along your folds while the other fondles your breasts.

Suddenly, you have a lightning bolt moment and decide to put your thoughts to the test.

“Mhmm-..Daddy..”

What you just did flipped a switch on inside Kags he never knew existed.

He pauses for a moment, staring at you with wide eyes and heated cheeks, he actually looks choked up.

“w..what did you just say...?”

“...Daddy?”

At this point he straight up loses it.

Picking you up bridal style, he carries you to the bedroom and bends you over his knee, hastily unbuckling his belt and folding it into a make-shift whip.

“Count each time I spank you, and fucking thank me when you do it.”

Stunned, you nod feebly, still processing this side of him you have never seen before.

whack.

“A-h! One. thank you...”

“Thank you what?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Kags traces the red mark decorating your ass lovingly with his finger before raising the belt again for a second blow. “You belong to me and only me, I’ll mark up your pretty body beautifully.”

You had belt marks on your rear for over a week and couldn’t walk right the following day lololol.

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyu #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #haikyuu x reader #daichi sawamura #haikyuu smut #kuroo tetsurou #karasuno #nekoma #aoba johsai #haikyuu imagines #kageyama tobio #iwaizumi hajime

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

amore mio aiutami.

roman godfrey x reader

word count: 5.5k

summary: once more, he took your hand and gave you the permission to mend him.

a/n: long time so see! at least in the realm of one shots. this came out of aboutle nowhere and is probably super similar to my other stories but guess what? idc ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ so, i hope you enjoy (:

“Darling, tell me what you need?”

“(Y/N).”

So, as much as Olivia detested you, she did as her weeping son asked and found you.

You hadn’t seen Roman since the scene at the hospital. After he disappeared after Pryce and Peter had fled the waiting room in a hysteric flurry, you were left alone. You felt as sterile as your surroundings. You felt utterly still and useless. While both boys had crumbled into a fit of emotions, you had remained motionless when the news of Letha’s death had been so crassly and unceremoniously announced over the intercom system. It was like your brain had begun to malfunction, and instead of grief-stricken screams and body quaking sobs, it chose to retain its energy and stay dormant. The news was so blind siding, so heartbreaking, so earth shattering, that it was impossible for you to comprehend. Impossible for you to react correctly.

So, you had sat for what seemed like hours, all alone, staring into space. Because Letha and her baby were dead. And there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. There was no going back. This morning you had held her hand as hospital staff had wheeled her back into the OR, matching smiles on your faces as she called you ‘auntie’ and you called her ‘mama’. You should have been holding a small little human right now. You should have been looking up at your best friend, palling from excursion but looking upon you with love as you held her bundle of joy.

Instead, you had been abandoned and left stagnant in The White Tower, unable to function. You could still taste the smoke on your tongue from when Roman had cheerfully pressed his cigar to your lips and told you to inhale. You could still taste copper on your tongue from where you had unknowingly gnawed a gash into your cheek with your teeth.

A page came over the intercom once more, and for some reason, it was enough to snap you out of your stupor. One minute your eyes were fogged and glassy, and the next, you had been thrust back into reality. The reality of being alone in the waiting room, your nails creasing into your palms uncomfortably, and pending a current decision.

After a moment of blinking away the dryness in your eyes and swallowing any sick remnant from your chewing incident, you slowly looked down the small hallway to the door Roman had disappeared through. You knew it was best to find him, for both of you, to find him immediately. His gut wrenching sobs still rung in your ears.

With timid strides, you made your way toward the door and pushed it open. It was likely placebo, but you swore the stench of death hit you like a wall of heat when you passed the threshold. Your eyes began to water from the weight of the smell, but you trekked on. You needed to find Roman. You needed to know he was ok. You needed him to be ok.

You aimlessly wandered the vacant halls, the sound of your own footsteps echoing menacingly around you. You debated calling out his name, but you already knew your voice was out of order for the evening. Possibly forever.

You rounded a corner, and something in your stomach knew. The cosmic tether that still bound you to your best friend whispered in your ear and twinged in your belly, and told you that she had been there.

Turn to your right and see what’s left.

And that’s where you found the room Letha had been in. A collection of monitors haloed a hospital bed, that lay behind a puddle of blood. Thick, dark, crimson blood dripped from the stark white hospital sheets and pittered into the puddle below, filling itself out so it could inch toward your feet.

You knew from that moment on, that that puddle of blood would haunt you forever. Whenever you would start to feel good, or whenever you would see someone with a cut or whenever you would hear her name, this puddle is what would come to mind. This sentient puddle that seemed to be growing larger by the second, and the smell of her freshly dead corpse somewhere in the building.

You didn’t find Roman. But Norman found you.

“(Y/N),” his voice called, “You can’t, don’t, look at it…”

“I should have done something,” your voice croaked, “I should have insisted on coming back here. I should have been here.”

You should have held her hand while she pushed. You should have wiped the sweat from her brow. You should have cheered her on while she pushed. You should have been there to fucking cut the cord. You should have been there to watch her die.

“You can’t start. You can’t start that,” you distantly felt him place a hand on your shoulder, “you can’t play a game of what if’s and should have been’s.”

You managed to tear your gaze away from the growing puddle to look at Norman. Norman, whose face was splotchy and streaked with tears. Norman, whose lip was trembling as he blinked away another onset of sobs. Norman, who still jumped to action to help you when bile flooded your throat and suddenly burst from your mouth.

Norman, who did his best to console you as you heaved up swilly vomit and choked back tears.

When you opened your eyes all you could think of was the puddles mixing. Your insides mixing with Letha’s.

You began to shake uncontrollably then, sobs finally erupting from your chest. Norman wrapped you in his arms, you were sure to console you, but also himself. Maybe he was pretending you were Letha as he held you.

It was then that Roman finally found you both.

“I’m leaving,” he said flatly, any emotion he had previously had had been stripped away.

“You can’t drive like this, Roman. Not after everything,” Norman said from over his shoulder, while he still held you tight.

“And like you can?” he bit out.

“Then we’ll all take a cab.”

And so Roman called a cab for the three of you without another word.

You tried to look at him. You tried to touch him, talk to him, but it seemed Roman had an aversion to all things in that moment, especially you. You had reached out a weak hand to grab a hold of his jacket as Normal held you to his chest, in a desperate search for his comfort, in a desperate search to comfort him. But, at the feeling of your stretching fingers, he quickly shrugged off your touch and turned his back to you.

So, you stayed in the arms of your best friend’s father. You tried to ignore the hurt you felt when you all piled into the cab and Roman lifelessly rattled off your address first, making it clear that you were to go home alone, without him. He chose to sit in the front seat, while you and Norman sat in the back. Roman looked out the window the entire way, he didn’t even acknowledge you as you got out of the car and turned to face the yellow vehicle, waiting for a reaction. But you got nothing, just the vision of Roman framed by the widow, lips pursed and eyes cast down.

The cab soon drove away and you stood in the middle of your front lawn, watching it’s taillights disappear. The street lights were on and you could hear the distant sound of your neighbors sprinkler. You fell to your knees, then to your side, curling up on the grass in the hopes that nature could heal you. Maybe grow around you and help you blossom new in the spring, happy and void of this pain in your chest.

But your mother found you before then, hours later and brought your inside. Your fists full of blades of grass.

You slept for twenty one hours after, without a call or text from your boyfriend. You sent him a few stray messages but never heard anything back. You thought it best to give him space, but you were yearning for him so completely.

And then Olivia showed up.

You had just sat down for dinner when the doorbell rang. Your father, while long dead, had always had a rule about never answering the door or phone calls while sitting down for a meal. Even though he was gone and it was just your mother and yourself, the rule had stuck, even though neither of you cared that much about if it was disrespectful, like he had.

You had both looked up from your pot roast when the bell rang, but exchanged a look that you always did in times like this. We’ll deal with it later. But the bell continued, quite consistently and obnoxiously.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a smile in a search to soothe your mother (who took it as an offense when someone wronged a rule from her deceased husband).

With sock feet, you went to the front door with every intention of politely asking them to leave or come back later, when you were met with Olivia. To say you were surprised was an understatement.

“Olivia?” you blurted out, because you simply couldn't help it. Her appearance was so unexpected, her name just dropped from your lips.

“Good evening, I hope I haven't disturbed something,” her elegant voice said as she clasped her hands in front of her.

“We just sat down to dinner,” you responded, voice sounding as skeptical as you felt.

“Oh, well, I am sorry to interrupt your supper,” she said with a deep sigh as a period, “but I’m afraid I require your immediate assistance.”

Which made sense, she had never been this polite to you in the past.

“With?”

“My son, I’m afraid.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else she had to say. You rounded up a pair of shoes and jacket and kissed your mother’s cheek, then fled your home for Olivia’s truck without a second thought.

She didn’t wait for you to buckle in before she started to drive. She smoked with all the windows up except for a small crack in the driver’s side. The radio hummed an old country ballad and your leg bounced restlessly against the floor mats.

“How have you been faring?” she asked as you were stopped at a light.

You didn’t feel like bearing your bleeding heart to her or engaging in any small talk, but you answered anyway.

“Dreadfully.”

Olivia hummed as the light turned green.

“I’m sorry, truly. If it is half as bad as how my son is grieving, I know you are going through something so hideous... going through feelings that humans are not equipped for.”

You nodded at her lukewarm attempt to console you and watched the world pass through the window.

“I know what you think of me, your distaste for me. You are less than subtle about it. But then, I suppose so am I.”

This drew your attention back to her.

“Just because I don’t, well, enjoy your presence, that doesn’t mean I don’t see what you do for my son’s happiness. It doesn’t mean I don’t see how well you treat him, even when he bloody well doesn’t deserve it. You’re good to him, for him. I see it all,” she continued, eyes briefly leaving the road to look at you, “As his mother, I have always wanted to protect him, to be the only woman he loves with such feriousty. And I know that is a reason why I hold such a contempt and resentment toward you. Misplaced, possibly, but I can’t help it. He is my only son and I would do anything for him. Which entails me… weeding out the riff raff. But here you still stay, ready and willing to take me on to love my son. Not an easy feet, but an admirable one.”

As she was finishing, you came up to the Godfrey mansion.

“I do accept you, you know? I do, in my own way. And I hope through the thunder and the rain you will accept him too,” she turned off the engine but made no move to exit the car, “it is such a pity that things couldn’t have been different. That you couldn’t have been the one to bear the weight of all of this, isn’t it?”

Olivia then reached out and ran the back of her hand gently over the apple of your cheek, examining you in the way you would a prized pig at auction.

“But, I know that you will play a part in this before it is all over.”

She carefully took a single stand of your hair between her finger tips and slowly ran them down to the end. Her beauty had always been intimidating, but in this moment with the lowlight of the moon, her face was frightening. Like someone had pulled back her mask to reveal her ghastly, maleficent exterior. The hair stood up on the back of your neck as she surveyed you, and you had never felt like you had ever been in more immediate danger as you were in that moment. While you couldn’t see your expression, you could feel it was confused and slightly horrified. But Olivia could, and so she sighed.

“You better get in there now. The attic. He’s expecting you.”

She returned to her cigarette and looked out the windshield like she had been alone the entire time. Like she hadn’t been looking at you like the last gulp of water in the desert. You didn’t need any more prompting to flee the vehicle.

You found him in Shelley’s room, that was now bare of any signs of life. If you hadn’t been in this room just last week, you would have never known that it had been someone’s residence. You would have likely ruminated on the gross action on Olivia’s part for gutting her missing daughter’s room if it hadn’t been for Roman. Your sweet, broken Roman.

He sat with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around his middle. He wore an old flannel shirt and the most pitiful look on his face. His lower lip quivered and his doe eyes widened with grief and need.

“(Y/N)...” he choked out your name, half question half relief.

“Oh, my love,” you simpered before you ran to him and fell to his feet.

Once your knees hit the hardwood, Roman burst into tears, his long arms reaching for you. You went to him easily, effortlessly; you wormed your way between his legs and shuffled forward until you met his chest. Roman wound himself around you like a snake devouring its prey: with no way of you getting out of his hold. He clutched onto you like a lifeline as he sobbed into the crook of your neck, spouting apologies on an endless loop.

I should have called. I’m sorry. I missed you. I needed you. I wanted you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please, please, please.

What? Please, what?

Make this pain go away.

And you wanted to tell him that if you knew how, you would have remedied yourself days ago. But that wasn’t helpful, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear or what you wanted to say. So, all you said was:

“Ok.”

You sat with him on the floor until his tears ran dry. Your back throbbed in discomfort and your knees ached from your position on the hardwood, but you didn’t move a muscle. What was going to help you get through this, was to help Roman get through this. You would save the one Godfrey you could.

You had luck with suggesting you move to his bedroom after his body stilled from it’s cries. Roman nodded against you, and when you pulled away he left gritty tear tracks and dried snot smears on your skin. He wiped his eyes childlike, with the back of his hand, before he seemed well enough to let you stand from his hold. He let his tired hand skirt its way down your back as you stood and then promptly took a hold of your hand.You stuck your other out for him to take, which he did gratefully and you pulled him to his feet.

On the way to the elevator, you bore most of Roman’s weight. His arm was around your shoulders and both of yours were around his waist, keeping him upright. He momentarily wrapped his other arm around you as the elevator lurched down to his floor, before returning it to his side once the doors opened again.

You led him to his bedroom and felt a pang in your chest when you saw the state he had been living in. Discarded clothing and food wrappers covered the floor, empty cups and beer bottles held purchase over every surface they could, ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts and whatever he was smoking were scattered about.

“Let’s sit, baby,” you said, moving Roman to his unmade bed and placing him on the corner, “do you wanna change into something?”

He shook his head swiftly and reached his hands out to tug on the hem of your t-shirt, “Just take it off.”

And you understood.

You helped him strip first, down to nothing at all, then did your own clothing. Adding both sets to the sea of laundry on the floor.

You stood in front of Roman in a position that would usually lead to a night of passion, but now was going to lead to a night of reassuring intimacy. Roman skated his fingers along your skin, cataloging every part of you with his fingertips and green gaze. Like he was proving to himself that you existed. He ran his thumbs under the flesh of your breast and moved in clean vertical lines to touch your nipples. He kept his thumbs in place as palms and remaining fingers came to cup you delicately. Roman met your eyes for a brief moment before he bowed his head against your sternum and deflated with a sigh.

Tears stung your eyes as your hands, that had been laying listlessly at your sides as he examined you, came to weave into his disheveled hair. Tugging periodically at his roots in a reminder of your everlasting presence.

You felt his chapped lips place soft, barely there kisses against your chest intermediate with his strained breathing. He nuzzled his face against your skin like he was trying to tunnel his way inside you for safe keeping, and when his efforts failed, he had to settle for the small kisses to taste you after your short separation.

“I need you. I needed you. Stay,” he whimpered to your body, gripping your breasts tighter as you did the same to his locks.

“Ok, yes. I’m here. I’m here now.”

He nodded, before you gently pulled him away so you could look at his beautiful face. That was still as stunning as the day you met him, even with the profound sadness in his expression.

“Let’s get some sleep, alright? I think that would do you some good,” you didn’t know for a fact, but the circles under his eyes told the story of his insomnia.

He sniffled, but nodded once more. He let you go to scoot back on his bed and rummage around for the corners of his blankets so you both could slip underneath. He collected the haphazard covers the best he could, then draped them open. Roman looked to you with a soft, frighteningly innocent expression for your boyfriend, and patted the spot next to him.

You crawled over to the spot and laid down. When Roman covered you both up and under his bedding, you could smell the wafting smell of smoke, body odor and beer coming from the sheets. Roman settled next to you and wrapped you back into his arms, he pulled you so suddenly to his chest you couldn’t help the tiny gasp from your lips upon the impact. He mumbled an apology as he got comfortable around you. His arm around your waist, his nose buried into the crown of your head, his leg thrown over your own. Roman created you a human cocoon, one that left you no option for escaping from.

Though, you really had no interest in leaving. You had missed this man with your entire being and to be near him again, made your heart swell with love and drain a fraction of the sadness in your chest. Roman’s embrace could cure a lot, but unfortunately not this agony. But, it was a start, and he was a salve you would never turn down. Roman always made everything better for you (even if in the moment, it felt like he was making it worse).

You pressed your lips to his knuckles and let out an encompassing sigh and let your eyes shut. You ran the tip of your tongue over the cracks in his skin and he hummed sweetly behind you, like a cat’s purr. You hoped that when you woke, you would feel better and Roman would be healed, even if you knew that was impossible. It was impossible, but you were allowed to dream as much as you wanted.

Forty five minutes later, you woke with a thin sheen of sweat heavy on your skin. Following your marathon sleep session after your mother found you on the lawn, you hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time. You had hoped Roman’s presence would help, but it seemed it was something in your body that would just have to run its course. You thought about seeing a shrink as you ran your nose along Roman’s radial bone. It could help you… but maybe Letha’s death was still too fresh to be searching for help. You’d give it a month, maybe six. Maybe then it would be easier to talk about.

Your whole life seemed to be composed of maybe’s lately.

Maybe things would get better. Maybe Letha would still be alive if you were in the room with her. Maybe Roman will call. Maybe he would hold you together when you broke apart. Maybe taking care of him would fix you both.

You just had to hope you figured it all out soon, because you didn’t know how much uncertainty you could take.

The longer you laid in Roman’s arms, no matter how much you had missed his embrace, you became restless. The room seemed to be closing in on you, the clutter unavoidable and ignorable. The mess was so awful that you couldn’t shake it from your mind. Some of the beer bottles had gained mold and there was a fly buzzing around an old fast food bag in the corner, not to mention the hills of dirty clothes that barricaded you from his en suite. The maternal, coddling feeling you felt in the attic to protect and fix Roman flared in your stomach and seeped into your blood stream until all you could think about was cleaning up the grieving mess he’d made.

So you did.

You gingerly extracted yourself from Roman’s hold, which had thankfully loosened from the depths of his slumber. You tiptoed over to where you had discarded his flannel from earlier and buttoned it up on your body. The last thing you wanted was to be caught going in and out of Roman’s room stark naked by one of the staff or God forbid Olivia. At that chilling thought, you slipped on your panties as well.

You left Roman’s room, leaving the door cracked so you didn’t have a chance to wake him. Then, you scurried down to the kitchen and gathered a box of trash bags and a pair of rubber gloves from the side of the sink. On your way back upstairs, you found Annalisa and told her there would be a few trash bags to collect from outside Roman’s room. You whispered, even though you were separated from Roman by two floors.

Back in Roman’s room, you crept around on light feet as you stuffed pizza boxes, rotting receptacles and overflowing ashtray contents into each white bag until they were full. You tried to pad the beer bottles with layers of other trash so they wouldn’t make as much noise, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t look over at the bed with baited breath each time they clinked together. You managed to fill four garbage bags without waking him, and set them outside his room for Annalisa to retrieve. When the trash was handled and the shapes of his living space were appearing again, you moved onto the laundry. You had planned on taking arm fulls down the hallway to the laundry shoot, then take the elevator to the basement to do as many loads as you could before Roman woke. Unfortunately on your third trip down the hall, you heard Roman’s throat crackling wail of your name.

You raced to Roman’s room and burst through the ajar door to find Roman, blankets pooling at his waist and tears in his eyes.

“Where did you go? You were gone!” he shrieked at you in anger as he battled off his cries.

“I was just trying to clean up a bit, Ro,” you replied, rushing to his side and sitting side-saddle on the bed.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I was just down the hall, honey. I never left.”

“You can’t leave me, you can’t leave my side. You can’t leave too,” he voice wavered at the end of his sentence.

Roman’s face soured and a scream erupted through his teeth and his face fell into his hands. He was furious he still felt so broken.

“Roman, baby, no. No, I’m not gonna leave. I’m here, I’m here, always. Always, always, always…” you said as you rested your chin on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around him, “I have you, Roman. I’m not leaving.”

You rocked him gently and cooed to him sweetly. You ran your hands over his skin and kissed the curve of his jaw until his breathing slowed once more and excess tension seemed to dissipate from his body.

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?” you asked, placing your cheek where your chin had been, so you could look at him, “I won’t get up this time.”

Roman shook his head, almost petulantly.

“Do you wanna shower? No offense Ro, but you smell kinda ripe,” you played.

“I haven’t had the energy,” he snapped.

He tried weakly to pull away from you, but your arms held strong.

“What about a bath? It’s low energy? I could take it with you if you want?” you proposed, not letting his bitter response deter you.

“You probably wouldn’t want to...because I smell like shit and all,” he pouted indignantly.

“Ro, I would bathe with you even if you actually smelled like shit. I’d do absolutely anything to take a nice bath with you, baby.”

You looked up at his profile and laid a series of pillowy kisses to his shoulder and trap muscle, before Roman sighed.

“Ok, we can take a bath.”

You smiled, “I’ll go get it started.”

You stood and walked to the bathroom (that you had made accessible) and started the water for the tub, and ran your fingers under the tap until it was Roman’s desired temperature. When you turned back to Roman, he had craned his neck to watch all your movements, his face full of worry. He didn’t trust the universe enough to take his eyes off you, again.

As you went toward him and Roman’s gaze never left yours. Not as you approached the bed, not as you walked across its surface on your knees, and not as you took his face in your hands.

“My beautiful boy,” you hummed quietly as you studied his face.

His creamy silk skin, his cherry stained lips, his fluttering eyelashes that framed perfect emerald eyes. You ran your thumbs over the expanse of his cheek bones, around the hollow of his eyes and followed the bridge of his nose to trace the arch of his eyebrows.

“My sweet boy,” you moved closer to his lips and Roman let out a distinctive mewl and you reveled in the pleasure of knowing you were making him happy.

You placed a soft kiss to his plump mouth and poured as much love and affection into it as possible. You nudge your nose against his and Roman sighed peacefully at the feeling.

The kisses shared were simple, chaste, but earnest. Your hands stayed clasp on his cheeks and Roman’s lay lax on his lap. You hadn’t kissed so soft or so innocently since you had first started seeing each other. While it was a change of pace for the two of you, it was well appreciated and savored.

When you pulled away from Roman’s mouth, he followed yours until you held his head study.

“I think the bath should be about ready by now.”

You got off his bed and held your hand out from him like you had in the attic, your way of asking him to let you usher him into comfort. Once more, he took your hand and gave you the permission to mend him.

You walked together to the en suite and you turned off the tap and shed yourself of Roman’s flannel and your underwear. You carefully stepped over the lip of the clawfoot tub and tried not to hiss at the obscene temperature he preferred and delicately lowered yourself into the steaming water, as Roman watched. Once you were submerged you looked up at him in question.

“Get in, honey,” you encouraged, shrinking back against the porcelain to give him room.

“I always hold you in the bath. That’s how this works.”

“Not this time. Now, get in.”

Roman looked on at you with a scowl.

“The water is getting cold, Ro. You either waste this lovely bath or you get in and just let me hold you.”

He looked over his shoulder, like a stranger may burst in and revoke his masculinity card if he let you be the big spoon. You wanted to poke fun at the action, but kept your mouth shut. He was unbelievably fragile at this moment, and all he needed was your kindness and protection.

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” he carped, “I’m supposed to protect you, y'know? Not the other way around.”

“I’m not allowed to take care of you?”

“No, it’s just,” Roman frowned, “I’m supposed to be the one who fixes. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“And you do. But right now, I am taking care of you. And I always will, whenever I can and whenever you need it. It’s just a part of the deal.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice suddenly null of all angry testosterone, and full of vulnerability.

“Because I love you, Roman. I am hopelessly and utterly in love with you,” you shrugged lightly, “and that just means that I will always take care of you.”

You said this to him so frankly and so decisively that it left so room for him to argue or pout. You had told him a resounding fact and it was clear you wouldn’t hear otherwise.

After an uncomfortable thirty seconds of shifting his weight between his heels as he stood on the cold tile, Roman stepped into the water and settled against your chest.

You rounded your arms into the water and to hold him around his middle and hooked your feet over his shins.

Roman’s height, even now, dwarfed your own. He could easily and comfortably recline his head over your shoulder and against the tub. You hummed with peaceful satisfaction and slowly felt Roman relax against you. His tight muscles unraveled from their persistent tension, and he let his body be molded by the soothing water into his usually relaxed stature.

For a while, you both sat in content silence. The only sound in the room was the gentle slosh of the water and your matching even breaths. You stroked the skin of his stomach with nimble fingers, rounding his belly button and going through the hair above his groin. You ran your thumbs over the hollow of his ribs and over his protruding hip bones.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

Roman twisted against you to be able to look you in the eye, “I love you, too.”

“I know, honey,” you placed a kiss to his nose and he smiled softly.

Though, his lips slowly flattened again and he looked at you earnestly, “I don’t want you to worry about protecting me. It really is my job.”

You weren’t going to argue gender roles and Roman’s twisted ideas of honor and rights then, so you just nodded.

“Ok, baby. You can protect me again tomorrow.”

And that seemed to satiate whatever macho part of his was blazing in his chest to turn back around and snuggle into you.

Surrounded by tempted water and all things Roman, your pain was briefly smothered by love, which really, was the best you could do. And that was more than ok for now.

is it strikingly similar to my other one shots? ya. do i care? meh, not really. do i still hope you liked it? yes!!!

feedback is greatly appreciated, so if you did enjoy this, lemme know (:

@girlinthecorner

#roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey imagines #roman godfrey x you #roman godfrey fluff #roman godfrey angst #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #roman godfrey fanfic #roman godfrey fanfiction #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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radabadabing-bing · 3 years

Text

Childe’s Search for Satisfaction

so like what if i made a genshin wg fanfic haha

like as a joke haha

a joke

like ‘haha funny joke!’

so here it is

Childe was frustrated. It wasn’t necessarily because he couldn’t find a fight- There were always plenty of monsters out on in the wilderness of Liyue -But not one of them was satisfying. The various hilichurls and slimes were jokes against his power. Every Ruin Guard he had run past, in anticipation that it would awaken and give him a chance to fight, had turned out to be broken and nonfunctioning. He had run across a single Lawachurl, the brutish beast proving somewhat difficult, but it still fell like all the rest.

And as he impaled his latest victim on his watery blades, he still felt immensely dissatisfied. The monster in particular was a Whopperflower, an oversized plant that happened to be immensely territorial. Unfortunately, it too was weak against Childe’s power.

And another unfortunate thing…Childe was tired. He had pushed himself too hard in every battle, excitement getting the better of him. The Harbinger grunted in frustration as his weapon dematerialized. “Damn. Absolutely nothing.” Wiping sweat from his brow, he did notice something curious leaking from one of the beastial plant’s stamens- A shimmering liquid, gold in sheen. He reached out to touch it, the substance sticky on his glove.

“Huh…Oh, right.” He had heard of this stuff. Childe had seen it before too. It was a thick nectar, rich with energy. The flower fed off of it, and it also served as a useful alchemical ingredient. Usually Childe wouldn’t concern himself with such a substance- He was no biologist or researcher, after all -But an idea wormed its way into his head.

He licked some of the nectar off his glove. Sweet in taste, maybe even too saccharine for him- But that wasn’t the important bit. What was important was that his sore muscles began to relax, feel reinvigorated. Not a whole lot, but it was noticeable. And if even that tiny amount felt so good to indulge in, well, Childe couldn’t resist. He grabbed a stamen, crushing it in his hand. More of the sticky honey bursting, coating his glove.

The Harbinger did realize this was a bit gross to do, but as he looked around…What no one knew wouldn’t hurt them. Without a hint of shame, he began thoroughly cleaning every last bit off the stamen and his hand. Before long, it was like the nectar had never been there. And Childe felt reinvigorated. “Heh, that’s better.” He said, stretching out, before immediately charging towards a small Hilichurl encampment in the distance.

However, as said, Childe was no biologist or alchemist. He was blissfully unaware of the fact that you were not supposed to consume the nectar in such a pure and undiluted form, nor in the amounts he had indulged in. It was safe at this point, sure, but the effects were already slightly showing on his waistline. A bit of pudge on his belly, his decently fitting pants tightening around his lower half. Not that he noticed, still riding the high of his apparent ingenious plan.

While the boost was able to push him onwards for a few more battles, blasting away the beasts he encountered with torrents of water, flurries of arrows. More and more fell to the strength of Childe, but it still was utterly unsatisfying. Worse yet, he was feeling tired once more- Though he didn’t need to wait long to spot another Whopperflower.

Sights set on the unwitting plant, it felt the Harbinger’s presence…a few moments before a volley of arrows pierced it, short work made of it. Childe quickly claimed his prize, plucking off a stamen from it’s desecrated corpse. Greedily eating out the nectar, feeling revitalized, oblivious to his wardrobe beginning to strain.

This cycle would repeat- He’d exhaust himself on pointless encounters, desperately trying to sate his lust for combat. Thoroughly unamused, he’d seek out a Whopperflower, slay it for it’s nectar, and move on- Again and again.

Soon enough, it wasn’t exactly something unnoticeable. Childe was significantly plumper, his outfit clearly undersized at this point. His shirt had already been loose fitting, letting his belly spill over his belt unhampered. His legs looked like tubed sausage, stuffed into pants that could barely contain them. Unhelped by the belt he had tied around his left leg, which was about the only thing Childe immediately noticed wrong.

“When did this thing get so tight…” He complained, as he tried to adjust it. The belt promptly snapped off, the rest of his thigh jiggling as it was released. “Huh. Must’ve gotten worn out.” He was still rather oblivious to his gains, even as his love handles and ass spilled out the top of his pants.

He had noticed his travels had brought him to an especially arid place. The faint smell of smoke in the air, charred grass, scorched rock. That was when he recalled what lay deep within the cavern before him- What any Whopperflower would become over its lifespan, the overgrown Regisvine.

And if the Whopperflower already had a lot of nectar, how much would it’s larger variant have? Childe was already chomping at the bit to find out. Speeding off from his last victim, he could hardly notice how his new bulk slowed him. Or rather, he was keeping the same speed as he had before, just tiring himself out faster. It made a rather vicious cycle, draining his own energy faster, needing more nectar to keep him going…

The universe perhaps wanted to give Childe another sign after he had missed what the smaller belt popping off meant. It did so with a loud rip as he rushed down the corridor. The seat of his pants had split open. “Damn, did I snag it on something?” That was the amount of observation Childe could give. He thought it was embarrassing, sure, but he also didn’t think that it was size causing it. “Guess I’ll just say it happened in battle…”

With the signs and warnings falling on the battle hungry Harbinger’s deaf ears, he still confidently approached the Regisvine, dormant in it’s lair. Though it unfurled as it detected the portly warrior, ready to defend it’s territory. Flames flickered about it’s form as the Regisvine towered over Childe, a red hot core lighting at it’s base…

Though even the mighty Regisvine was conquered under Childe’s power. Chubby or not, he was still an absolute force to be reckoned with. Volley after volley of arrows struck at the monstrous plant, as it too returned with it’s own attacks of fierce fire. Though it met the same fate as every other foe of Childe on that day- Utter defeat.

As he stabbed a blade of water through it’s corolla of a head, it slumped down, it’s flames flickering away, smoldering as it’s sentience faded. “Heh. Better luck next time.” He told the fading flower, rather satisfied with the fight it gave him. “Phew. Some people would quit while they’re ahead…” Childe could quit right now. He did get his fight. But Childe was Childe. “…But maybe I could run all the way to Mondstadt and fight that icy one too!”

He pulled the blade from the corolla, and proceeded to slice open the dead Regisvine’s bud- A sigh of warm air wafting out with it, carrying the scent of the delectable and energizing nectar. A sly grin spread out on the Harbinger’s slightly pudgy face, as the rich golden honey oozed from the now wide open plant.

His smug smile only got wider as he realized that this plant had far more nectar than the others he had slain. Practically pumping out the nectar, perhaps as a last attempt to get the vine to live once more. Though this was pointless, as Childe had already begun his feast.

There was some civility to it at first- Some, as he was still scooping it up and eating it with his hands, but that was better than him just nixing the scooping and eating it out of the stem.

His pants were already put to their limits- Unsurprisingly, they were first to go. Tearing down the sides with a resonant ripping sound. In another unsurprisingly turn of events, Childe was completely and utterly unaware as he grew at a much faster pace than before. His gut fell over the edge of his belt, straining to an incredible degree, until pop! Off went the belt, off went the rest of his pants. Giving way to blubbery thighs and bountiful buttocks, indented by his boxers. Boxers that were already too small, trace elasticity keeping them together.

Childe’s ignorance was honestly impressive at this point. He was lost in the idea of battles to be, already plotting out a course for his inevitable warpath. A warpath that he wouldn’t be able to pursue at his current size, much less the size he’d ultimately reach.

His coat and undershirt were kept loose already, but even loose articles of clothing would eventually give way. Buckles breaking, straps snapping. Once refined pecs were losing definition as they became flabby and heavy, sitting upon a significant midsection. His boots pulled apart as his weight continued to mount. And mount it did, as he swelled fatter, and fatter…

Soon enough, the once arena was now a graveyard for the warrior’s outfit. And said warrior was just finishing up. “Phew!” Wiping his mouth, licking up a few last dribbles of nectar. “With that, I should be able to-” Childe didn’t get to finish his sentence. He slightly leaned back as he was speaking, enough to immediately throw off his balance. With a thud, he landed on his oversized rump.

He was genuinely surprised by this development. “Huh?! Where did all this…” He grabbed at himself, almost entirely naked. His scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, said neck sporting a trio of chins now. He also felt his boxers on, though he could not see them in any capacity. Just able to feel how tight they were. And the still growing holes in them. “When did this happen?!”

The hefty Harbinger tried moving, though achieved little. His feet weren’t even on the ground now. And his attempts to move did actually tire him out, as he took in beleaguered breaths. For all the energy the nectar held, there came a point where it was beyond helping him. “…It was pretty fun up until now, at least…” He lamented. Becoming a blob of fat obviously wasn’t on the itinerary, but he did find a decent opponent or two. So the day wasn’t a total wash.

He just had to hope someone was planning on hunting a Regisvine soon, or that his fellow Fatui went out looking for him- Because he was definitely immobile, and wasn’t gonna be mobile without some serious help.

#genshin fatpact #idk what else to put it under lol #male weight gain #male expansion #we'll return to your regularly scheduled FE fats right after this #but i had the idea and was just like #now i HAVE to do it #feel mega iffy about it but eh

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

Wait For It [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 3488

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: ‘Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes. And we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes.’ [Based on ‘Wait For It’ from the musical Hamilton].

WARNING: major character death, other character deaths

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tyyyweasley @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @wonderful-writer @marauders-loving-queen @vogueweasley @marvelettesassemble @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @pussytalenteditdocartwheels @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: got a bit carried away with the angst... prepare your hearts guys - i cried a lot and i’m the one who wrote it. anyways lil shoutout to haley @wand3ringr0s3 bc she let me talk out this fic idea and also she’s the queen of angst fics. anyways enjoy x

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Love;-

His ginger hair was illuminated by the light from the fire, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief and lips curled up into a cheeky smile - one you adored on him, one that made your heart race.

He sat beside Lee, retelling the story of one of his more outrageous pranks, waving his hands in enthusiasm as you smiled at him. You weren’t quite listening, too caught up in his voice and how passionate he was, your heart beating fast as you pulled a knee up to rest your chin on as you watched him.

The conversation moved on quickly from there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to remove your gaze from the eldest twin, moving to lean on George’s arm as you listened, but making no move to join in with them.

“I can’t wait to ask her.”

The words piqued your interest, and you almost jolted from your seat as you heard him say those words, feeling like your heart was in your throat.

Who was he talking about?

“She’s... she’s amazing. She’s smart, she’s funny. She’s fit. If she says yes to me, I’ve hit the jackpot I reckon,” Fred grinned, leaning back into the sofa. His eyes flickered over to you for just a moment and you smiled back at him absent-mindedly.

You couldn’t help it. You loved him.

Lee nudged Fred, wiggling his eyebrows at him, “When are you gonna ask her to the ball?”

Fred cleared his throat and sat up straighter, and you caught his gaze, a small - very hopeful - part of you praying he was going to ask you, and ask you at that moment.

When his gaze moved swiftly onto George, you finally looked away, staring at the fire. And though you knew, deep down, that he wasn’t talking about you, you hoped.

“Tomorrow.”

You’d wait and hope with all your heart he’d pick you.

***

You’d felt nervous all day, a ball of negative energy curling in your stomach as you wandered through your lessons aimlessly, heart clenching every time you saw Fred speaking to a girl, hoping he wasn’t asking her, yet knowing he might be.

You thought studying in the hall was going to be an easy hour, sitting by your close friends, including Angelina and Alicia, the twins and Lee sitting a little further up the benches, near Harry and Ron.

There was some mumbling, and then you heard Ron hiss, “Who’re you going with then?”

You slowly looked up, so as to not draw attention to yourself or show yourself as interested, however as you glanced over at the boys, you noticed Fred staring.

And for a moment, a small gap in time, your heart leapt as you thought he was looking at you. His brown eyes caught yours and he winked, and you felt your throat closing up, thought maybe there was a possibility of him asking you.

He threw the scrunched up ball of paper in your direction, and you held your breath, a smile curling onto your lips as the paper flew towards you. You practiced how you’d say yes to him in your head, imagined what you’d wear, how you’d do your makeup. What colour his tie would be - the same colour as your dress, you’d hope.

And then the paper sailed past your eyeline, hitting Angelina on her shoulder. Your heart sank, blood rushing through your ears as you watched Fred ask her to the ball, felt the pain in your chest growing as watched her nod.

It was one thing knowing he didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him, another to know he felt that way for someone else. More specifically, one of your closest friends.

You ripped your gaze away from them and stared down at the paper in front of you, quill nearly breaking from the force you were applying to it, throat closing up as you blinked away your tears, not wanting anyone to see.

The study time felt like it lasted hours, your hands shaking as you packed your things up and headed straight for your common room, burying yourself under the blankets on your bed and screaming into your pillow.

You were sure you were in love with Fred Weasley, as certain as you were that the sky was blue and grass was green. Your happiness grew when you heard him laugh, heart pounding whenever he was near.

He loved Angelina though.

Tears soaked your pillow as you tried to put your heart back together somehow. Tried to be okay with it.

But how were you supposed to get over a boy you were never with? How were you supposed to fall out of love with someone that didn’t love you?

Your chest ached, eyes sore from wiping away tears, yet they still fell.

And so you sat, crying over a love you never had. And most likely never would.

Death;-

“How’re you feeling?” Fred asked as he joined you in a secluded area of the castle. The battle preparations were ongoing, with everyone quickly projecting all the protective spells they knew on any part of the school they could.

You looked out and could see a swarm of black figures heading towards you in the distance, making everything seem that much more real, that much more scary.

“Scared,” you admitted glancing up at the redhead, who nodded.

“Me too,” he confirmed. He opened his arms and pulled you into his chest, into a warm hug. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent as your arms wrapped tightly around him.

You both stood there for just a while, his hands rubbing your back reassuringly, and you decided, in that moment, you needed to tell him.

You needed to tell him you loved him.

Needed him to know, before you both set off fighting. Needed to know if there was chance for you both - if this was another reason to fight.

“I need to tell you something, before it all starts,” your voice was quiet, but you knew Fred heard as he pulled away to look at you, his hands still holding your waist as he focused on you.

“What is it?”

“I-“ you hesitated for a moment, swallowing nervously as your gaze dropped to the floor. Fred lifted your head up gently with his thumb, a touch that set your skin alight, one that sent shivers down your spin.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly, in contrast to his usual booming voice, a concerned look set on his features as he looked down at you, his brown eyes showcasing his worry.

“Please don’t hate me,” you replied, just as soft. You squeezed your eyes tightly, feeling him grab one of your hands in his as the hand on your chin moved to cup your cheek.

“Darling, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, reopening your eyes and catching his gaze, your heart pounding as you tried to think of the words you wanted to say, “I don’t want to go into this battle without you knowing, so I- I guess what I’m trying to say is... well, I’m in love with you.”

Silence is odd, having the ability to be both comfortable and tension-filled depending on the company and context. Usually, silence around Fred was comforting, knowing he was there without either of you having to say a word. But this silence, the silence that hung over you, made your heart leap to your throat, and you swallowed harshly, wincing at the wide-eyed look he was giving you at this revelation.

His hand dropped from your cheek and he stepped away just a little, just enough that you swore he probably could’ve heard your heart crack, before he finally spoke, his voice a shaky whisper, as if he didn’t know what to say, how to reply.

“Y/n, darling, I love you...”

You felt your eyes widening a little, heart beating fast now due to his response. You didn’t think you’d ever hear him say those three little words, ones that held so much meaning. The beginnings of the battle around you faded, and you could only think about how you loved Fred, and Fred loved you. Everything was going to be okay - you had each other.

Just as you were going to step forward, a watery laugh nearly escaping your lips, you realised he was still finishing his sentence, that he hadn’t finished answering you.

“... but only as a friend.”

His voice was gentle, but his words cut like glass, sharp pieces hitting your chest and ripping your skin, the words reverberating in your head. And suddenly warm tears were falling down your cheeks - you’d let yourself get your hopes up, let yourself imagine a life where you loved Fred and he loved you. When in reality, he didn’t love you.

He wasn’t in love with you.

You took a shaky breath, nodding at him as you pressed your lips together, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stepped back away from him.

“I know,” you whispered, looking away from his gaze, feeling embarrassed, above anything else, trying to force a smile onto your face, “I-I know... I just- I needed to tell you.”

You swallowed, shaking your head. You felt stupid. He’d never shown he was interested, you didn’t know why you’d ever thought there was a chance.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, before reaching out towards you, a look of sympathetic despair crossing his features as he tried to bring you closer to him.

As his fingers brushed yours and you pulled away as though he burnt you, he felt his heart clench, taking a shaky breath as he watched one of his closest friends pull away from him, tears lining his vision as you moved further away from him, his hand hovering mid-air as though he still wanted - needed - you to be near him.

“Love, please. I-I can’t lose you. Please, let’s just- Let’s talk about this. After all this- please. Don’t walk away, I-I need you Y/n. I’m sorry I don’t lov- but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I care about you so so much,” his lips were trembling, tears falling freely as he reached out again, a sob escaping his lips as you hesitated, allowing him to take his hand in yours for just a moment.

“It’s okay, Freddie,” you whispered, though he and you both knew it wasn’t okay, and possibly wouldn’t ever go back to the way things were before you told him you loved him, “I just- I need to be alone.”

“We’re going into battle, I need you to know that I-“

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I can’t do this.”

Fred tried desperately to get you to stay. He didn’t want to watch you leave, to watch you walk away from him. Not like this, not when you were both about to risk your lives fighting in a dangerous battle, where one wrong move could cost you your life.

“But I-“

“I need to go,” You pulled your hand from his and turned on your heel, wiping your tears away quickly as you ran off.

Fred’s mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something, as if he wanted to call after you, before closing it again and shaking his head sadly, wiping a last lone tear that fell down his cheek before shoving his hands into his pockets.

He’d find you after the battle and speak to you, he decided.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

***

You were tired. The battle wore on around you as you stumbled through the fallen pieces of the building around you, overwhelmed at the fighting and overcome with the realisation that you were basically a bunch of kids trying to fight in a war you tried to prevent.

You hadn’t seen anyone for a while, being towards the back of the school, only fighting the occasional death eater who wandered close to you. You were hiding out after a particularly nasty hex left a gash down your arm, trying your best to bandage it up as best you could.

You hoped everyone was okay, had already passed by Colin Creevey lying on the floor as you found somewhere to hide. You’d almost stopped for a moment, hoping he was just unconscious, however the angle he was lay at told you otherwise, and you forced yourself to move on before anyone came back.

Still reeling with emotion from your talk before the battle, you’d shot spells carelessly at death eaters, hoping it was enough to keep them away. To keep you alive.

You turned the corner, wand raised, your eyes scanning the scene as you tried to find somebody - anybody.

And that’s when you saw it.

A flash of light, and you felt yourself running towards it, stumbling over the rubble, dodging spells in desperation. It hit the wall, the ginger boy stood underneath unaware.

You screamed out his name, the sound somehow cutting through the spells and fighting, your lungs burning as you willed yourself to run faster.

It played out in your mind in slow motion, the light, the stone crumbling, falling.

Fred turned at the sound of your voice, a smile etched on his face from something Percy had said, but just before you could push him out of the way, the wall fell.

You halted, barely metres away, nearly losing your footing as you choked out a sob, tears streaming as you stared at Percy, who had the same stricken look on his face.

Neither of you spared a glance around you before rushing towards where the eldest twin once stood, desperate to find him, to make sure he was okay.

Removing the pieces of rubble with a desperation you didn’t know you could feel, until you found a tuft of ginger hair sticking out between two broken bricks. Your heart clenched, stuck in your throat as you revealed his face, his last smile etched onto his features.

You didn’t hear the scream that left your mouth, didn’t feel Percy gently moving you so he could remove the stones from on top of the rest of Fred’s body.

Your eyes wandered across his face, his freckled skin, the slope of his nose and down to his chapped lips. Tears fell onto his face as your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping onto the fabric of his sweater, sobs racking through your body as you ignored the battle going on around you.

“Wake up, Freddie, please wake up!”

Your pleas went unanswered, the ginger boy laying before you still, his face unwavering.

“No, please!” You sobbed. You didn’t notice Percy’s hand on your shoulder, or his heartbroken mentions to move his little brother away from the fighting - to move you away from the fighting.

You clung to Fred, not wanting to let him go, not being able to, “You gotta wake up, Fred. This isn’t funny, this isn’t a good prank. Please wake up. Please just-“

You ran a hand through his hair and wiped your tears off his cheek, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for walking away. Please. We need you. George needs you. I need you. Please.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke to him, white noise filling your ears as all you could focus on was the sight of the boy laying before you, cuts across the side of his head, his brown eyes once shining, now dull. You grabbed his hand, holding it in yours, refusing to let go.

You weren’t sure when Fred’s body was taken from you, when he was moved into the Great Hall, too shaken up to think of anything but the thought of the wall falling over and over again, playing out in your mind like a cruel nightmare, each time you were too late, barely metres too late, seconds too late to stop it.

You sobbed into George’s shoulder, his head resting on yours as you both cried.

Before anything, Fred was one of your closest friends. One of your best friends. And now you’d never get to see him smile again, never hear his laugh or get to play silly pranks with him.

You’d never hug him again, never hear his flirty comebacks and witty jokes.

And as you felt George’s clutch tighten on you, both as broken as the other at losing the person you loved the most, a grief-stricken sob escaped your lips, causing George to pull away a little to see if you were okay, his eyes bloodshot, tears streaming down his face, still so caring after losing his other half, your bottom lip trembled as you thought back over everything.

You had walked away from him. Your last words bouncing around your head - I need to go. In your haste, you never said goodbye to the boy you loved. And now you never could, would never get the chance.

George squeezed his eyes tight as he brought you closer to his chest, you grabbing a handful of his t shirt in your fist as tears streamed down both your faces. You mumbled something inaudible into his chest and he moved to hear you better. The same words fell out of your mouth over and over, between broken sobs and falling tears,

“I’m sorry, I was too late.”

Life;-

The first few months after the battle were difficult. You saw him in everything - in every bit of laughter, every bright colour, every joke.

You saw him in George, who’d tried his hardest to forget. He’d smashed all his mirrors, tried to dye his hair, before you found him, collapsed in a ball of sobs in the middle of his flat, whispering, “Please, bring him back.”

After living his entire life with Fred in it, he didn’t know how to live without him.

You relied on each other to get you through, taking it day by day, trying to mend your hearts, broken in different, yet very similar ways.

The nightmares were the worst.

Waking up in cold sweats, seeing the wall collapse in front of you, knowing you were too late and didn’t get to say goodbye to the boy you loved. Knowing if you were just a few seconds earlier, George would still have his twin brother by his side, laughing and making jokes like usual.

“The worst part isn’t remembering. It’s easy to remember. The worst part, the hardest part, is those times I forget to remember. I forget that he’s not here, that he’s gone. And then I remember and I feel so guilty,” you’d told George, half a year after the battle. It was nearing Christmas, a time you both used to love, yet now you were apprehensive, didn’t know how to do Christmas without Fred.

George had replied sweetly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you. And whilst it didn’t feel the same as the way Fred had hugged you before the battle, the feeling was comforting, warm and familiar, “He knew you loved him. You cared for him, watched over him to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid. And now he gets to return the favour and watch over you.”

“He’s really gone isn’t he. He’s just... gone.”

The night you’d gone through his things with George was difficult. It was sad, sometimes overwhelming, but you also got to sit and just remember, reminding yourselves who Fred was.

With every Weasley product you found, with every photograph you came across, every sweater, broken quill and long-forgotten sketch, your sad tears began to turn into happy ones, laughing with George about your times in Hogwarts, about better days gone by.

It was funny, that even though he was gone, he could still bring smiles to your faces.

Maybe that’s why he was so special, why it hurt so much to lose him. He made the people around him happy, through everything.

You visited him often, needing to apologise, to properly say goodbye. Or just to feel like you were close to him again. To thank him for all he’d done, for allowing you to love him how you did. For being such an important person in so many people’s lives.

Wiping a tear that fell down your cheek, your hand reached out to hold onto the gravestone before you for balance, smiling through your tears as your fingers ran across his name, engraved on the stone.

‘Fred Weasley

1st April 1978 - 2nd May 1998’

You kneeled down, placing a single flower across the grass in front of the stone. It’d been years since you’d lost Fred and somehow the pain got worse every day.

But you knew, with time, things would get better. You’d find your happiness, and learn to move on.

All you had to do was wait for it.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines

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dont-tempt-me-frodo · 3 years

Text

Only For You

have some soft geraskier just because

also available to read on ao3

The midday sun filtered through the sea of leaves above, dappling the stream with gold. The mossy ground was springy underfoot and the warm air was thick with the smell of wild garlic.

Geralt knelt by the water’s edge, delicately plucking the leaves off a dark green plant and folding them into a cloth. Their sweet scent wreathed around him, almost chasing away the tang of the garlic.

He sighed heavily through is nose and gently pocketed the herb filled cloth before rising slowly to his feet. He cast his amber gaze along the bank of the stream and spotted another plume of the rare plant so took the opportunity to gather more of its pungent leaves. He would use them to brew his potions later. For now, he was content enough to take what he needed then make his way back to the clearing where he had left Jaskier and Roach.

When Geralt had paused their travelling to look for herbs, Jaskier had dramatically flopped down by the base of a tree, complaining about his sore feet and encouraging Geralt to go on with out him.

Geralt couldn’t begrudge the Bard a short rest. They had been on the move now for almost four days with very little respite, camping under the stars, and although Geralt could relax into the journey astride his chestnut mare, he knew the constant walking was hard going for Jaskier.

Jaskier didn’t usually complain about the long days of endless walking. He filled the journeys with his relentless chatter and impromptu lute playing. But at night, when they curled up together, cocooned in each other’s warmth, Geralt could feel Jaskier’s weariness, his exhaustion.

The next town was only half a day’s walk away, and he had promised Jaskier that they could spend some time there. The Bard’s delighted smile sent a ripple of affection warming through him, and his slow heart skipped a beat. Hopefully there would be a contract or two for Geralt but failing that, Jaskier would always drum up some coin in the local tavern.

Geralt always enjoyed watching Jaskier perform. His masterful lute playing, his rich singing, his animated charm and boundless energy never ceased to amaze him. And afterwards, they would go up to their room and make good use of the lumpy straw mattress on a pallet that passed for a bed in these parts. If Geralt had his way, they would go a few rounds before Jaskier was delirious with overstimulated pleasure. And then he would tuck his Bard close to his chest and hold him as he slept.

The Witcher smiled to himself as he folded the last leaf into his cloth then pushed it into his pocket.

He plucked at the nape of his shirt, trying to fan away the stifling heat building around him, then started the slow trek back the way he had come.

Geralt focused on the noises of the forest. The bubbling of the stream, the twittering of a finch, the cautious steps of a deer, the rustling of leaves high above his head where the slight breeze didn’t quite penetrate the thick canopy. He frowned though. There was a sound he was anticipating but didn’t hear. The strumming of a lute.

Jaskier’s melodies had followed Geralt into the forest and he had fully expected them to lead him out again. But the lack of plucked lute strings was deafening and worry coiled in his gut.

He quickened his pace, ready to draw the silver sword strapped to his back as he approached the clearing.

If anything had happened to Jaskier…

The Witcher thundered through the thicket and then stopped dead.

There was Roach, tethered to a sapling just like he’d left her. And there was Jaskier, bundled up at the bottom of a sprawling oak tree, lute in his lap just like he’d left him. But, and Geralt wilted at the realisation, the Bard was sound asleep.

A painful ache of affection burned in the Witcher’s chest. The weariness, as well as the heat of the day must have caught up to Jaskier, and Geralt was once again remined how human his companion was.

Geralt stepped into the clearing softly, taking off his swords with the intention of slinging them over Roach’s saddle. The mare lifted her head as he approached, blinking slowly at him and snorting. Geralt hushed her with a pat of her velvety nose. Roach flicked an ear at him then went back to nibbling at the sweet grass. Geralt gave her neck a rub then made his way over to the dozing Bard.

Jaskier was propped up between two roots, his doublet jacket folded neatly by his feet, the laces of his embroidered shirt plucked open to try and let in the air. He looked so peaceful and utterly beautiful that Geralt didn’t have the heart to wake him. Instead, he carefully removed the lute and placed it to one side then slid in next to the bard, tucking his arms around him and guiding him into his broad chest.

Jaskier shifted slightly, a mumble escaping his lips but he didn’t wake, instinctually nuzzling into Geralt.

The Witcher leaned back against the tree, letting his own eyes flutter shut for a moment as the comfortable weight of Jaskier in his arms sent curls of warmth through him.

He was vaguely aware of their surroundings, trusting Roach to alert him if anything, or anyone, was approaching. The sweet scent of the soap Jaskier favoured chasing away the lingering forest and Geralt breathed deeply, a content smile twitching his lip.

Geralt half dosed for a little while but cracked open one eye when Roach stamped her foot. She was regarding him with those glassy black eyes and the Witcher sighed.

“I know,” he rumbled softly, glancing up at the sky half hidden by the interwoven branches.

If they were to make the town by nightfall, they’d have to make a move. And Roach was growing impatient, stamping the ground again and snorting.

Geralt shook his head at her, then shifted slightly, blinking down at the bard still asleep in his arms. It felt cruel to wake him.

Very gently, Geralt brushed Jaskier’s cheek with the pad of his thumb, back and forth, a steady rhythm to bring the bard back to wakefulness.

Jaskier’s breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered. A soft yawn fell from him and Geralt’s heart melted.

“Hey,” the Witcher hummed.

Jaskier gazed up at him, his expression still lax with sleep and his smile was crooked.

“Hey,” he yawned, and the Witcher leaned down to press a kiss to the bard’s forehead.

“We need to get going,” Geralt mumbled, “Still a fair way to go before we reach civilization.”

Jaskier made a noise that could almost be described as indignant, and he curled up tighter into Geralt, burying his face in the Witcher’s neck.

“Nope. You’re too comfortable. And I’m still not fully awake yet,” Jaskier whined, but Geralt could feel his grin.

“Come on bard,” Geralt chuckled, love for the man in his arms thrumming through him.

“Fine,” Jaskier lifted his head to make sure Geralt could see his pout, and Geralt cupped his cheek and captured that pout in a soft kiss.

Jaskier melted into him, his own hands coming up to clasp at either side of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt rubbed noses with Jaskier, kissed his cheek, his jaw, his cheek again, and Jaskier bubbled with laughter.

“You’re ridiculous, Geralt,” he sighed fondly.

“But you love me anyway,” Geralt hummed, his amber eyes bright and his smile coy.

“How lucky you are,” Jaskier patted Geralt’s shoulder then tucked a lock of his silver hair behind his ear.

“Very lucky,” Geralt agreed, turning his head to kiss the inside of Jaskier’s wrist.

He heard Jaskier’s heart skip a beat, and the bard’s hand lingered in Geralt’s hair so that the Witcher could lean into the touch.

“Come on bard,” Geralt said again, shifting now to let Jaskier know he was being serious.

Jaskier huffed out a breath and let Geralt stand before reaching for him. The Witcher took his hands and hauled him to his feet, curling an arm around Jaskier’s waist and encouraging him in closer. Jaskier let himself be guided flush against his Witcher and he rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Love you Geralt,” Jaskier preened.

“Love you Jaskier,” Geralt rested his cheek against Jaskier’s head as he walked him over to Roach, “up you get. I’ll grab your doublet and lute.”

Jaskier paused, leaning away from Geralt to fix him with an incredulous look.

“Who are you and what have you done with Geralt?” he gaped.

“Very funny,” Geralt grumbled, going back to the tree to retrieve Jaskier’s things. He thumbed Jaskier’s doublet absently as he flicked those amber eyes back to his bard. “You’re tired and I feel bad for having to wake you up,” he admitted sheepishly, “it’s only fair I do a bit of walking for a change.”

Jaskier’s expression softened, and he ducked his gaze, his smile wide.

“Softie,” he said to his boots.

“Only for you,” Geralt came in close, took a gentle hold of Jaskier’s chin and tilted his head up so he could press a kiss to Jaskier’s lips.

Jaskier quivered and Geralt smiled.

“Let’s go,” the Witcher rumbled, “and hopefully there’ll be a nice soft bed for tonight.”

“There better be,” Jaskier grinned, mirth dancing in those blue eyes, “absolutely no sexy times for Witcher’s if we end up on the floor. Again.”

Geralt laughed.

“Well, we’d better get a move on then,” he gruffed, “if there’s any hope of finding a bed for the night.”

Jaskier winked at him and Geralt’s heart flipped in his chest. Gods he loved this man. This wonderful, ridiculous bard. And as he helped Jaskier up onto Roach, he couldn’t stop smiling.

#my writing #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #geraskier #geraskier fluff #geraskier fanfic #the witcher #netflix the witcher #henry cavill #joey batey #roach

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Preen

Okay, this is 4000 words of fluff dripping with so much sop, it is almost pure liquid. It doesn’t really go anywhere, and it refused to come to a neat ending. So yeah, FishTank with just a dash of Earth and Sky in the middle, all wrapped up in the Marks & Wings AU.

I was desperate to write some comfort and M&W is my go to for self indulgence, so that’s what we have. Blatant Virgil comfort fic :D

Many thanks to @janetm74 and @tsarinatorment for the read through and support, but I would also like to say a very big thank you to all of the Thunderfam who sent me so many kind well wishes on Monday. I’m feeling better and the writing muscles seem to be flexing okay at this point, so maybe, if you like Marks & Wings, please consider this a bit of a thank you fic. And for those of you who don’t find this AU to be your cup of tea, I hope I can write you something you like in the near future. ::hugs you all:: You are all so kind and amazing to me.

I hope you enjoy whatever this is ::extra hugs::

-o-o-o-

“Virg, let me do it?”

Virgil brushed his fingertips through the length of one of his black flight feathers. Its root twinged, both with irritation and the ache of bruising, but he found the grass seed responsible and a pair of fingernails scraped it out and dropped it onto the locker room floor.

The relief was wonderful.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

A sigh. “Do what?” He started working on the next grass seed. Honestly, grass was evil and he was ever so thankful there was very little of it on the Island.

“Preen your feathers.” Gordon was standing in his swim shorts watching Virgil poke at his wings. “I want to help.”

Another grass seed fell to the floor. “It wasn’t your fault, Fish.”

“You still saved my ass.” A hesitant and emotional breath. “I want to help you.”

Scott was usually the one who helped each brother preen. ‘Smotherhen’ was a very appropriate name when he had his feathers out. Virgil helped Scott when he had issues. But feathers were sensitive and preening a deeply personal thing, much like bathing.

And Gordon didn’t have feathers and didn’t know what it felt like.

“You know I help Allie sometimes.”

The honesty and concern in those russet eyes were ever so strong.

“Okay.”

The small smile that spread on Gordon’s face lit up his eyes.

Virgil ripped another grass seed from his plumage and bruises twinged. Ow. “Be gentle. There are a few...bruises.”

The smile disappeared. “Are you hurt?”

Virgil sighed. Gordon had managed to get all the rescuees onto the rescue rig, but an explosion had destabilised the building before he could jump off himself. The result had seen his fish brother pinwheeling towards hard concrete.

Virgil hadn’t hesitated, his wings out before thought. Launching off the rescue rig, he’d swooped through smoke and caught his little brother midair. But another explosion had thrown him off pace and the result was Virgil curled protectively around Gordon and tumbling through a field full of weeds.

And grass. So much ripe seeding grass.

So not only was he aching all over from a shitty landing that could have, but somehow didn’t, seriously broken something, his wings were also full of contaminants.

The flight home had been hell. Even hidden in his mark, they itched, irritated and tormented him.

To finally be home and able to attend to the mess was a relief in itself, but not so much as getting all those damned seeds out. If Scott had been here, there would have been a lecture, but so much help.

Eight metres of feathers was a lot to attend to.

But Scott was on Three with Alan, so it was just him and Gords, an equally caring but inexperienced brother.

Virgil stretched out his right wing. It groaned and complained, forcing a breath from him. “Just aching bruises. I’m fine, Gords. Honest. Getting these seeds out will help a lot.”

Gordon held up his hands. “Tell me what to do.”

So Virgil did. He guided his brother’s hands to a feather, pointed out the snag and showed him how to use his fingernails to brush it out, how to align the feather into its correct position, and outlined how he would wash them himself and work a light preening oil over them after his shower.

Gordon listened ever so attentively and Virgil had to admit, it was a relief to have another set of hands working through his feathers despite the ache.

Gordon, for all their brotherly ribbing, was ever so gentle when he wanted to be. Virgil had seen him caring for children and babies out in the field and he trusted him with so much. His feathers were nothing in comparison.

More grass seeds fell to the floor. They would be vacuumed up and destroyed lest they contaminate the Island which was why Virgil was doing this in the locker room rather than anywhere else. There were decontamination facilities here of multiple types.

“Sit down, Virgil. Let me do this.”

Virgil blinked. “It will get done faster if we both do it.”

“You need to rest. And don’t tell me otherwise, or I’ll grab the scanner and prove my point enough to call in Grandma.”

His shoulders dropped. “Gordon...”

“Sit down, bro.” A hand on his wing shoulder. “Please.” Gordon really knew how to throw those puppy eyes around. To top it off, Gordon grabbed an office chair and wheeled it in so Virgil didn’t have to sit on the hard bench.

The upholstery looked soft and inviting – a sign that Virgil was obviously desperate. It was only one of the many type chairs in the villa and nothing special.

He must be tired.

“Fine.” Virgil groaned as he took the chair and straddled it backwards, letting the back rest support his front while his wings had total freedom.

Gordon was right. That tumble of a landing had punched the wind out of him. It had been a shitty rescue to begin with. The fall had just topped it off.

Fortunately, Gordon was fine. Virgil had used that entire eight metres of feathers to wrap around and protect his brother, curling them up into a ball that rolled, shedding harmful momentum.

But there were scrapes and bent feathers and bruises.

So many bruises.

Virgil winced as Gordon tugged on one. “Sorry! A stubborn burr. It’s out now.”

Virgil closed his eyes. “Is fine.”

Gordon’s fingers gently moved between primaries, methodically examining and removing irritants.

It was quite nice to have someone else taking care of his feathers. Gordon’s touch caressed jangled nerves, untangled snags and lined up vanes one by one. The relief was palpable and relaxing.

Virgil sagged ever so slowly where he sat, his head falling onto his arms.

At some point he realised Gordon was humming. Just softly and a familiar tune. It took a solid few minutes for Virgil to connect the notes and come up with the composition he had created for Grandma’s last birthday.

Gordon had a good voice. He wasn’t ashamed to use it either. Unfortunately, his choice of repertoire left much to be desired. His best usually involved an ancient sea shanty, a genre his fish brother actively took an interest in. At his worst, it was something like the ‘I’m too sexy for this shirt’ song from last century.

His little brother had blown a few shirt buttons the last time he danced to that one. If he’d known that Alan would film it and send a copy to Lady Penelope, then perhaps he wouldn’t have danced so...exotically.

Alan was still suffering the fallout from that episode.

Lady P was still smiling.

Virgil couldn’t help smiling, too.

“Got something on your mind?” Gordon startled him. “When’s Tin due back?”

“Gordon...”

“What? I know you have a thing for our lovely security chief. Just asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

But even that poke in the ribs couldn’t disturb him that much. Gordon was doing a great job cleaning his feathers and Virgil lost himself in the sensation of being cared for.

Gordon must have realised that his brother had found peace because he didn’t say anything further, just hummed away as he worked.

Virgil ended up with his eyes closed, his shoulders relaxed and his wings drooping on the floor.

He was vaguely aware of Gordon sweeping up detritus and for a moment, he put enough energy in to lift his wings off the concrete properly.

“I think I’ve got most of them.” His brother brushed his fingers gently through feathers, skipping across his secondaries, up to his lesser coverts and onto the down that tracked over his shoulders and back.

Virgil shivered at his touch.

“Virg?”

He pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. “Gotta go wash.” Gordon grabbed him as he wobbled.

“You sure about that?”

“Will be more comfortable.” He had to remind himself that Gordon didn’t know. Or maybe he did. Virgil felt suddenly felt guilty for not having had such a discussion with his little brother in the past.

“I can understand that, but you’re dead on your feet.”

Virgil forced himself to stand up straighter and everything ached. He experimentally flapped his wings just a little. So much better.

But they were still dusty.

“A quick rinse and dry. That’s all.”

Gordon looked ready to go for that scanner again.

Virgil sighed, half folded his wings and headed for the specialised wet area designed for just this activity.

He closed the doors between his brother and himself.

“Virg?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. I won’t be long.” Something obviously had the fish worried. Virgil closed his eyes and let his wings droop. They were heavy.

He gave himself that moment, before shucking off his pants and throwing them in the laundry chute. Lifting his wings again, he walked to the wall, punched in a temperature and set the fine spray running.

Walking into the warm water was bliss.

He may have lost himself for a moment or two between soap and spray.

“Virg? You okay in there?”

He startled and realised he had been standing there, half asleep for he didn’t know how long.

But he was clean. Thank goodness. Soap had been applied to skin and water had washed the dust from his feathers.

This, of course, made them heavier, but only for a short time as he switched the spray off and activated the blow dry.

Warm air evaporated the moisture off his wings. He flapped them repeatedly and they complained. But the water fell and soon he was as dry as he could be.

With a sigh, he carefully folded his pinions and let them go.

As always, it was a rush of sensation as they disappeared and his centre of gravity shifted abruptly. So tired, he staggered to one knee with a groan.

So many bruises.

“Virg, goddamnit.” His brother was suddenly there.

It wasn’t a gasp. It wasn’t. Really. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Yellow light flickered over him and he groaned. “Gordon, I’m fine. Just need some sleep.” He pushed himself off the floor.

A towel was shoved into his stomach. “Put this on. We’re going to see Grandma.”

Virgil clutched at the towel. “Why?”

Gordon held up the readings on the medscanner. “You tell me.”

Virgil stared at the numbers and the diagram representing his body. “Just some bruising.” Perhaps some imbalances. Nothing sleep and a good meal couldn’t fix.

The thought of food turned his stomach over. Maybe just a drink.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Feathers were a bit messed up. Broke a couple and gained some bruises. There is nothing a simple painkiller and bed won’t fix.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist anyway and strode towards the doors.

“Virgil-“

“Gordon, please.”

“Didn’t you say you needed to oil your feathers?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I could do it for you now.”

Virgil closed his eyes again. God, he was tired. “You can help me tomorrow. Now, I’m going to bed.” He shoved the doors open further and strode through. His uniform was still on the bench, but he’d stash that tomorrow as well.

Gordon hurried to catch up with him and followed him to his rooms.

“You’re stalking me, Gords. I’m going to get weirded out.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror yet?”

“What? Why?”

He had been about to shed the towel and don his pyjama pants, but wasn’t used to the audience.

Gordon grabbed him gently by the elbow and led him over to his full-length mirror.

His reflection looked as tired as he felt. “What is your point, Gordon?”

His brother turned him side on, the black etching of his mark wrapping around his biceps and shoulder…was mottled.

Virgil twisted further around and found his mark to be a patchwork of red and blue up and down the length of his torso.

That explained the ow.

“I would really prefer Grandma to take a look, Virgil.”

“It’s just bruising.” No matter how spectacular.

“We fell from quite a height.”

Virgil looked over at his brother. “This is not your fault, Gords. You know that. A few bruises are nothing compared to your safety.”

“But what about your safety?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why won’t you let Grandma have a look?”

“She doesn’t need to. There is nothing to look at.”

Gordon stared at him and something flickered in his eyes. “Fine. But I want you to let your wings out before you go to bed.”

Virgil blinked. “Why?” He had just let them go and that had hurt enough.

“I want to check to make sure all the burrs are gone.”

“We’ve already done that.”

“I want to give them another look, just to make sure.”

Virgil eyed him. “There is not enough room in here.” He gestured around his bedroom.

“Then we’ll go into the living room and set up a lounger.”

“So Grandma can accidentally find me there?” Virgil frowned at his brother.

“Nooooo.”

Virgil glared at him. He was up to something, he was sure of it. But Virgil didn’t have the energy to pursue it and honestly, he did trust Gordon. He knew enough to know that feathers were no joking matter.

Ever.

Not after the incident with Scott all those years ago.

That had not been funny at all.

And there was something in his brother’s eyes. Honest concern.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Entering the living room, Virgil was surprised to find that it was evening and the sun was gilding the Island. A gentle breeze was blowing off the caldera and the birds on Mateo were warbling as they settled down for the evening.

Virgil stood on the balcony barefoot, shirtless and just let it soak in. The breeze ruffled his hair and caressed aching skin.

“Virg? Come lay down.”

He blinked and turned to find Gordon standing beside a lounger with a thick mattress and several pillows.

“Gordon, why are you doing this?”

“I want to help. You got hurt because of me. Please help me fix it, even just a little.”

“It was not your fault. Just a shitty rescue.”

“You’re in pain.”

“It’s nothing, Gords, honest.”

“Will you please just lift and lie down.” There was just a touch of warning in his little brother’s tone. Gordon had a streak of their father in him almost as much as Scott did.

Fine.

But Virgil glared anyway.

Before he could think about it too much, he hunched and lifted.

And Gordon had to catch him or he would have fallen. God, that hurt. Only bruising, but ow.

Gordon had caught him under his arms. “Virg? You with me?” Worried brown eyes peered up at him.

“I’m fine.” But it was rasped out. His wings were still folded and a mass of ache, dragging on the floor.

“C’mon, let’s get you lying down.”

Virgil grunted. The divan suddenly looked so much more inviting. The pillow was soft beneath his cheek as he finally lay down on his belly. He let out a breath and every aching muscle relaxed into the soft mattress. Where had his brother found it? It was heaven.

“Spread your wings for me, Virgil?”

He blinked, almost on the edge of sleep. “Mmm-hmm...”

“This is the last I’ll ask of you, I promise. Spread your wings and then you can sleep.”

Sleep.

Ever so stiff, his pinions ached and creaked as he unfolded and extended them out. Gentle hands caught his left wing and guided it down to a soft surface. Footsteps around him and his right wing was gently nudged to an equally soft landing.

A hand on his shoulder and a finger brushed hair out of his eyes.

Ever so quietly. “Sleep, big brother.”

Virgil let his wing shoulders relax and mumbled into his pillow.

Gordon snorted just softly and a moment later a light blanket was laid over his legs. “Your modesty is safe. Now sleep.”

Mmph.

But Gordon was running his fingers through the fine down on his shoulders and Virgil was too tired to resist.

He slipped away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Gordon.”

The voice was his beloved grandmother, whispering. “He has some bruising and a few electrolyte imbalances. He just needs rest and possibly a painkiller.”

“He won’t take them, you know that.” A shaky breath. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, honey. What about you? You took the fall as well.”

“I’m good, Grandma.”

There was silence for a moment and Virgil drifted.

“He saved me.”

“You boys have a habit of doing that.”

“Grandma...”

“You fell. Your brothers can fly. Of course they are going to catch you.”

There was a muffled sound.

“Aww, honey, come here.” Shuffled footsteps. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s hurt because of me.” There was a shake to Gordon’s voice that set off alarms in Virgil’s head. His little brother was hurting.

He shifted, attempting to shrug off the fog of sleep, but a small hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He had no idea if the words were addressed to him or to his little brother, but the hand brushed gently through his shoulder down and was ever so paralysing that he lost his fight with sleep again and drifted off.

-o-o-o-

Someone was tugging gently at one of his primaries.

The tugging nudged him into awareness, but then disappeared, leaving him floating in that lazy level just below full consciousness.

Fingers were combing ever so gently through his feathers.

One by one.

He was being looked after.

He wasn’t awake enough to protest, to resist the care being given. Not awake enough to feel guilt.

But enough to just enjoy being looked after, being cared for.

Being loved in the gentlest way possible.

Fingers combed through his secondaries and he let himself fall away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Scott. Grandma has checked him over, I promise. Just a mass of bruising.” Gordon’s voice was whispering again.

“He looks awful.” Alan’s honesty bounced around Virgil’s dopey brain.

“Shh. I know. Don’t wake him.”

A flicker of yellow light and Gordon sighed. “Don’t believe me, huh?”

“I believe you. I just need to check for myself.” Scott’s deeper rumble blossomed comfort in Virgil’s heart. His big brother was home. He would look after Gordy.

Virgil relaxed just that notch further.

-o-o-o-

Time passed.

It must have, because when Virgil finally woke up everything was quiet. Slow blinking revealed very early dawn barely lighting up the hardwood floor.

Slow neurons fired and eventually gave him the information he needed. He had fallen asleep before the sun went down. Gordy.

Gordy falling.

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

“Gordon’s fine, Virgil.”

The words were quiet and calm.

He was laying on his belly and the barest of movements proved his wings were still out. Looking up he caught sight of his eldest brother sitting against the glass doors that led out onto the balcony. He blinked. They were closed.

Scott put down his glass of protein shake. He was dressed in his running outfit, but by the look of it, he hadn’t been out yet.

“How are you feeling?” His brother pushed himself off the floor and took the few steps across the hardwood to crouch down beside Virgil.

How was he feeling?

He had obviously slept in the same position all night and the smallest of movements let him know all about it.

Another groan gave him away as he let his forehead drop to the pillow again.

“That bad, huh?” A hand landed on his shoulder, fingers gently nudging the fine down of his trapezius. “Can you fold your wings?”

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. Scott was right. Remove the weight of his wings and then attempt the rest.

Movement hurt. The next day was always the worst. Adrenalin gone, abused muscles stiff, bruises fully realised. He grit his teeth.

But this wasn’t the first time.

He lifted his wings off the pillows Gordon had piled there for him and with a groan that crept out between his teeth, he retracted his wings, folded them, and let them go.

All the breath in his body left with a whoosh and he collapsed back into the bed and closed his eyes.

“Better?”

Virgil’s muffled expletive said everything.

Scott snorted. “Okay. Hold that thought. I’ve got just the thing.”

A breath and Virgil let himself drift.

A gentle touch to his mark startled him.

“Hey, relax. Just a little preening oil. Gordon did your wings last night. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to rub a little on sore muscles.” And with that his brother started running gentle circles all over Virgil’s back. His mark tingled at the contact, but it was safe contact, welcome brotherly care.

Care.

The scent of the bathing oil wafted past his nostrils. Scott knew from his own experience where and what hurt in this situation.

Well, not perhaps this exact situation. Virgil couldn’t recall Scott catching Gordon midair before, but there had been that incident with Allie. Their little brother terrifying them all prematurely grey.

It had been Virgil who had administered the care to Scott that day.

Fingers nudged knots and movement into his muscles. It felt good and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Thanks, Scott.”

His brother didn’t stop his ministrations. “Anytime, Virg, you know that.”

There was silence for a while after that, Scott methodically and medically working to rub in the liniment. Virgil knew he should move, get up, find where Gordy was…but he found himself paralysed.

Scott knew exactly what he was doing.

Caring, smotherhen, big brother…

-o-o-o-

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next he knew the sun was high in the sky.

He blinked. Everything was quiet – a very unusual situation for the comms room.

Shaking off most of the fog, he pushed himself into a sitting position and was pleasantly surprised when the pain was minimal. It still hurt, but a good percentage of the stiffness was gone. His skin was ever so soft where his big brother had rubbed in oil.

Standing up proved a little more of a challenge, but he got there and worked several of his muscles until they loosened up.

He felt surprisingly good, despite the aches.

All he needed now was coffee.

He shuffled his way across the hardwood floor in his bare feet and down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Virg! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Virgil blinked and froze. Gordon, as usual, was far too full of energy first thing in the morning.

“Oh, hell. Coffee. You haven’t had your coffee yet. Sit down, I’ll get you some of your stim juice. Just a moment.”

Gordon started flapping around the kitchen.

Virgil stayed where he was and just stared.

What?

The smell of coffee was suddenly in the air and Virgil felt like floating on it like Pepe Le Pew on a waft of perfume.

“C’mon, Virg, sit down. Coffee’s nearly ready. Want some toast?”

Virgil was notoriously slow in the mornings, but even his morning fog brain could twig something wasn’t right. Gordon was always kind, but this?

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

“Getting you coffee. And breakfast, if you want it.”

His fish brother darted about the kitchen like a guppy swimming in caffeine.

“Gordon?”

“You want sugar?”

“Gordon.”

But his brother wasn’t stopping. With not enough brain cells to work out a different strategy, Virgil resorted to putting himself directly in his brother’s path and grabbing him. “Gordon, stop.”

“What? Why?”

Virgil sighed. It was all too much before coffee. He pulled his brother into a hug. A tight one.

“I’m okay, Gords.”

His brother’s response was muffled against Virgil’s shoulder. Gordon struggled against his hold, so Virgil let him go.

Gordon flung himself away. “Aaargh! You don’t have a shirt on, Virg. Bare skin much?” He stared at his hands. “And oily. Ergh.”

Virgil snorted. “Sorry.” He bit back a grin, but soon lost the fight and ended up chuckling at the expression on his little brother’s face.

Gordon screwed that face up in disgust. “That’s it, you can get your own coffee.”

“Will do.” He reached out and ruffled the fish’s hair.

Gordon batted him away. “Get’orff.”

Virgil sighed, smiling. “Thanks, Gords.”

The fish froze, staring. Something stirred in his eyes. “Anytime, Virg.” He swallowed. “Always.”

Virgil softened even more. “Same.”

They stared at each other a moment longer only for it to be broken by the chime of the coffee machine.

“Ooh, I dare not stand between you and your coffee.” He backed away and then around Virgil as if he was an explosive.

Virgil rolled his eyes and beelined for the coffee machine, because coffee. When he turned around, beverage of the gods in hand, Gordon was gone.

And the warmth in Virgil’s heart had nothing to do with the mug in his hand.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #FishTank #comfort fic

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