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adarlingwrites · 3 years ago

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Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

“I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

482 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years ago

Text

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

#bnha 326 #all might #yagi toshinori #stain (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

Text

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

---------------------------

It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

---------------------------

“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #enemies to friends to lovers #blunt teeth sharp tongue #got some fun banter in this one!#followed immediately by heartbreak #they want to be soft so bad #but they do not know how #i promise they will eventually be soft #you have to remember that this is still less than 24 hours after part 1 #the reader is traumatized

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

Text

Stare Enough

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 4034

Summary: Bucky's got a new stare. Sam spends all afternoon and most of the evening working up the courage to meet it.

Both Sam and the food are the main attraction at this party and the problem with that situation is that it takes so damn long for one main attraction to get a second to enjoy the other.

He’s grateful—god, is he grateful—for the turnout. Friends, neighbours, the kind of people he and Sarah call family without there being any actual relation by blood, they’ve all shown up. Since the Blip, Sam’s felt like he’s always around, but this feels like a real homecoming. No sadness, nothing bittersweet. It’s a celebration and he’s at the center of it. Him and the food.

At last, Sam’s done the circuit with his plate, spooning creamy salads and grilled vegetables, stacking shellfish pink as a sunrise. There’s a fresh-baked roll perched atop a scoop of sweet potatoes and caramelized onions that smells so fucking warm and mouth-watering he has to resist walking with his nose buried in it. He collects a set of utensils furled in the middle of a paper napkin (courtesy of an efficient assembly line of old ladies, chatting and twisting neat rolls of cutlery), plate bowing into the palm of his other hand, and that’s when his damn phone vibrates in his pocket.

Sam halts and makes a sound of frustration. Nobody’s come to this thing empty-handed, so there are dishes crowding the surface of the tables, no place to set his plate down. His phone vibrates again. A teenager comes up to peruse the spread in front of him and Sam sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.

“Here,” he says heavily, offering up his beautifully arranged and wonderfully fragrant meal. The cob of corn shining with the butter he lovingly smeared over it nearly rolls over the edge. “You’re the luckiest kid in the world.”

Quickly, Sam turns away, sliding out his phone and bringing it to his ear. He doesn’t want to witness the boy digging in. His stomach growls as he greets Joaquin Torres.

“Sam,” Torres says. “Uh, I mean, sir. Mr. Captain Am… Captain Wil—”

“Take it easy,” Sam laughs. “You know me, Torres. Don’t get starstruck now.”

“Honestly, I never really got over you being the Falcon. Now that you’re Captain America… Apologies if it takes me a little while to be cool about it.” After a pause—taken while Torres attempts to become cool with Sam being Captain America, Sam assumes—he asks, “You celebrating?”

Not far from where Sam’s standing, there are two little girls singing along to their clapping game. At a table behind them, a trio of elderly gentlemen are arguing over which one of them it was that caught that 50-pound snapper off the dock back in 1978. There’s a sear of meat and fish being rotated onto and off of the grill and, bouncing over everything, music from a speaker someplace.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a broad grin. “Yeah, we are. I’d save you a plate, but I can’t even manage to hang onto my own.”

He doesn’t mention that Torres is responsible for that situation; he’s aware that, besides being a fan, the Lieutenant is a little bit infatuated with him. Sam’s trying to be gentle until the day he can respond to Torres with friendly smack-talk, the way he would Steve or Scott or Bucky. Maybe not exactly like he does with Bucky.

“Don’t worry about it,” Torres cheerfully insists. “I wasn’t calling for that, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something.”

“Alright. Let me just…”

Sam strides away from the heart of the party towards the water, seeking quiet. Kids dart in front of him and that’s nothing unusual, but when he follows them with his gaze, he sees they’re running towards Bucky. Bucky, who has his Vibranium arm extended and two kids dangling off it already, one of whom might be Sam’s nephew. Of course, Mr. Casual, Mr. Smiles, Mr. Social Butterfly, is carrying on a conversation like his arm isn’t being used as a jungle gym. A conversation with Sarah.

For just a moment, Sam stops in his tracks, considering whether he should go over there and break up any potential flirting. But then he watches them. Bucky’s just talking to her, not flicking his gaze up and down while he checks her out. And Sarah, she’s relaxed and smiling, totally at ease, like Bucky’s another member of their community. That makes him a friend. Family.

That’s one thought too far and Sam jerks himself into motion again, walking until he’d be swimming with another step.

“What’ve you got for me?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to watch as much of the coverage of the fight outside the GRC vote as I can, trying to get a sense of how they’re spinning Walker’s reappearance, the legacy of the Flag-Smashers now that Karli and her inner circle are gone… Anyway, there’s a lot of footage and you’re at the center of most of it.”

“Guess the new suit draws the eye. And the cameras.” It’s no surprise to Sam. Part of the job of being Captain America.

“Yeah, but…”

“What is it, Torres?”

“Bucky’s in the background a lot,” he explains in a voice that tells Sam there’s more Torres isn’t saying.

“Makes sense. He was in the thick of it as much as I was.”

“He’s there at the end too. When you were talking to the Senator about power and the common struggle. Man, that was a great speech. Do you think—”

“Torres. Please. The point.”

“Right, for sure, man. Bucky never takes his eyes off you.”

That flusters Sam for a second. He wasn’t expecting the blunt delivery, especially of those words. He squints down at the water where it’s lapping the side of the dock. He knew Bucky was there; they spoke right after, when Bucky tried to feed him that bullshit (and he knew it was bullshit at the time) about texting and missing the exact speech Torres is apparently still hung up on.

“So Bucky was actually listening to me,” Sam says carefully. “That’s a surprise, but it isn’t really the kind of thing that’s significant enough for you to bother notifying me about, is it?”

“I’d say that depends on what you consider significant.”

“Torres.”

“I know, but he’s not just listening! It’s how he’s looking at you!”

“Like he’s wishing I would wrap it up?” Oh, Sam remembers Bucky’s miracle from their session with Dr. Raynor.

“Like he’s totally into you! Major heart eyes. Sir,” Torres hastily adds.

And Sam should reprimand him for this. Calling with a trivial piece of information when he must know Sam’s already being very selective about which of the hundreds of recent calls (and it’d be more if more people had this number) he chooses to pick up. Calling to speculate on how Bucky was staring at Sam that night in New York.

“I don’t need to tell you this is gonna be one of those investigations we keep between you and me,” Sam states.

“For sure. I just thought maybe you’d wanna know.”

“Uh huh. You get any real news, you pass it along.”

“I will.”

Sam ends the call and turns. He looks to his right: the sparkling river. His left: his people, all the way down to the squirt with the glasses who’s hanging off a metal arm, and the man that arm belongs to.

He’s felt it, the way that Bucky stares. It’s not like it used to be though, when it irked Dr. Raynor at the police station in Baltimore, or confused Walker and Hoskins in the back of that jeep in Germany. This new stare of Bucky’s isn’t one Sam’s ever caught him doing. Bucky hasn’t quite let him. That’s actually how Sam noticed it was happening—Bucky would immediately glance away instead of leaving that dead expression on his face when Sam met his eye. Now that he has proof of it, proof he’s certain Torres would send him footage of in an instant if he asked, he’s scared to look.

Instead, he watches Bucky look at other people. Like Sarah. Like kids from the neighbourhood. His literal hangers-on disperse as Sam observes, scattered after Bucky leans towards them to say something. Sam sees half his smile and even that much has his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky weaves through the tables and standing groups, the dancers and the kids who’ve broken out a skipping rope. (After eating from that buffet? Kids are crazy. Gonna make themselves sick.)

Without thinking too hard about it, Sam returns to the noise and the smells, trailing Bucky with a stealthy eye on his ass in those jeans. There’s no friction here between him and everybody else Sam cares about, he can see that in every short, friendly exchange someone engages Bucky in as he walks. Things flow as smoothly as the butter oozing off the corn Sam reluctantly gave up. Clearly, they remember Bucky from when he was here helping with the boat. They respect him. They like him. They’ve gotten to that last thing faster than Sam has, which makes Sam feel a little embarrassed as well as a little overwhelmed by how much the two of them have actually been through. He’s seen Bucky as a mindless killer and it almost brings a genuine tear to his eye—here on this glorious day in front of all these folks—to see the dork who rushed out to get his hands on a copy of The Hobbit in 1937 return in his current form as the dork who’ll take a fake punch from AJ and blush over brazen old women telling him how handsome he is.

Bucky stares different? Well. Sam feels different about the staring.

Sam keeps his distance until Bucky reaches the food, then his stomach gurgles a reminder than he hasn’t eaten yet. No ass is nice enough to distract him from his meal. He sidles up beside him and Bucky seems unsurprised, not even glancing over.

“Anything important?” he asks.

“What?”

“Your phone call,” Bucky clarifies, adding a heap of glossy green beans to his plate. Damn, those are some of Sam’s favourite. Bucky better not take all of them. “They need us somewhere?”

“Oh. No.”

Bucky shoots him a suspicious look after this stilted response, but he doesn’t say anything until Sam grabs a plate of his own, hungry eyes roving the feast that’s diminishing now that people have started coming back for second helpings.

“Put that down,” Bucky instructs. He doesn’t wait; he takes the plate out of Sam’s hand and tosses it back towards the pile. Thankfully, the plates are made of paper.

“Buzz off, man,” Sam tells him, reaching for the plate again. “I’m starving.”

“I figured.”

Wait.

“That’s for me?” he guesses, gazing longingly at the plate Bucky’s preparing.

“Yep.”

When Sam doesn’t reply, Bucky pauses with the plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other and sighs.

“I didn’t want you to miss the good stuff. This party’s for you.”

“I think it might be for both of us.”

Bucky seems too self-conscious to say anything to that. He goes back to loading up Sam’s plate while Sam quietly feels his throat close up with emotion as he watches. He clears it gruffly.

“I woulda had to eat the cake you brought,” he jokes. “Pretty sure only the really little kids have eaten any. You know, people who don’t know better.”

“I was tryin’ to be a good guest.”

“I can’t believe you brought a store-bought cake,” Sam says, laughing as he grabs a set of cutlery for the second time and continuing to shuffle along next to Bucky.

“Have you ever seen me cook?”

“…No.”

“Exactly. Trust me, what I did was kinder.”

“If you say so.”

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky demands challengingly, turning to face him. “I do say so.”

Sam’s eyes go from the plate Bucky’s holding between them up to Bucky’s face. He’s close. And he’s got this look, this dancing look in his eyes that undercuts the shit out of the hard line of his eyebrows. Trying to seem all stern. All Sam can think for several seconds is that, if he just grabbed Bucky by the chain around his neck and hauled him forward, they’d never get the food stains out of their clothes. But their laundry would smell delicious.

He clears his throat.

“Then you better stay for a while.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up and he hands Sam the plate he’s prepared for him.

“I plan to.”

When Sam picks a table to sit at, he makes sure there’s enough room for Bucky too. When Bucky sits next to him, he sits so close that their thighs press together and claims that’s all the space there is. Bucky talks and laughs when other people at the table talk to him. He’s easily drawn into conversation now and Sam feels weirdly proud of having brought this great guy home to meet everybody, even if he’s not here like that. People tells stories about last week and last century interchangeably, one old smartass making Bucky howl with laughter when they toss out a memory of Little Sam Wilson streaking from his house to the river for a naked swim. This is the danger of welcoming Bucky into the community. Sam, suppressing a smile, doesn’t really mind.

Elbows up on the table so he can eat, talk, and gesture emphatically with his fork, Sam feels Bucky’s stare creeping up on him. Slow, like the sun slides across the landscape when the clouds blow past. Bucky didn’t make this food, but Sam can feel his satisfaction as he watches Sam accept what he provided. Feels like there are grasshoppers springing around in his stomach. He still has a roll on his plate, one side soaked in family-secret barbecue sauce, and he tears it in half. While the rest of their table are caught up in some story being boisterously told by overlapping voices, Sam turns to Bucky and wordlessly offers the bread, edges dimpled where he gripped to split it. They watch each other chew and Sam’s closed mouth is smiling.

Inevitably, somebody pulls Sam back into the conversation and he does his best to laugh and heckle, covering the fact that he wasn’t listening, that he dropped the thread. The voices rise and rise and fall like water slopping over the side of a bucket.

In the next quiet moment, Bucky inclines toward him slightly and says, “You wanna talk later?”

And Sam says, “Sure.”

The day feels long, long, long, and Sam’s face gets sore from smiling, tired from talking. He does not confess that to Bucky, who’s almost always at his side. Lights go on overhead and beers come out of coolers, leftover food packed up and redistributed among neighbours, small children with drooping eyelids toted home. At first, Sam thinks Bucky’s leaning into his side because he’s drained from so much socializing too, but when he meets his eye, he just sees an invitation.

“Where are you two goin’?” Sarah asks when they slink past her carrying a too-big Cass in her arms.

“Just walkin’,” Sam tells her.

“Gotta stretch our legs,” Bucky contributes.

She looks from Sam to Bucky and back, smiling knowingly.

“Uh huh,” Sarah says.

Sam grabs Bucky by the shoulder to turn him forcibly away from his sister’s insinuations and just… forgets to let his hand fall as they wander along the water. Bucky’s steps angle towards his until his arm’s bumping Sam’s side, Sam’s arm slung around his shoulders. Is this still the body language of a couple buddies on a warm Delacroix night? Is it now, when Sam drops his arm and brushes the back of his hand across Bucky’s?

They leave the party lights on the horizon with the lazily setting sun, scrabbling off the end of the dock and onto the riverbank. Sam reaches up to give Bucky a hand down, so he won’t step in the soft mud and sink to his ankles. Bucky clasps his hand firmly and jumps.

The sound of people drops off down here and the sound of wind in grass, frogs hiding between reeds, rises.

“Are there alligators in here?” Bucky wonders, scanning the river’s edge.

Sam laughs.

“For sure.”

“And you swam here when you were a kid?”

“Even then,” Sam boasts, puffing his chest out, “my courage was legendary.”

“Yeah, and your nudity. Is there anyone within a mile of here who hasn’t seen your bare ass?”

Their eye contact holds. Oh right. Sam breaks away with an awkward, hiccupping laugh, directing his gaze at the dirt.

“The gators haven’t gathered too close to the dock in decades,” he promises Bucky. He stares out at the undisturbed water, enjoying the sun on his face. “Got skittish of the boats. Most of ’em, anyway.”

“Consider me not entirely reassured.”

“You scared of a little Louisiana lizard, man? Didn’t you grow up with Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“Nah, that was after my time.”

“Damn, you’re old.”

Bucky snorts a laugh, refusing to look at him.

“You wanna take a dip?” Sam goads.

“No.”

But by the time Sam’s pulling his shirt over his head, Bucky’s peeling off his socks. Sam spares him a smile and keeps going, the ground soft underfoot. It could be like the few times they’ve changed in proximity to one another before, but it’s not. He senses Bucky’s eyes on him the whole time. Face hot, he takes a quick look in Bucky’s direction as he’s unzipping his jeans. His heart feels like his new suit—wings just waiting to unfurl.

When they’re down to their underwear, they wade in.

God, it feels nice. The water’s cool and the sun’s clinging to the horizon.

“Just don’t get any water in your mouth,” Sam instructs, then dunks his face and comes up squirting water at Bucky from between the gap in his front teeth, a trick he perfected as a kid. “That arm ain’t gonna rust, right?”

“You asked for this,” Bucky warns. He points a menacing finger and plunges below the surface.

Sam twists as he treads water, trying to see what’s going on down there, searching for a ripple or bubbles of released air. His legs move in twitchy kicks because that’s where he’s expecting Bucky to grab him. But the idiot is playing some kind of psychological game first, making Sam wait a full minute. Two minutes. Three.

He’s opening his mouth to call out Bucky’s name when he breaks the surface. Sam’s ready to swap the concern he was about to form into words into a taunt instead—did Bucky get down there and decide the scariest thing he could do was let Sam’s imagination take over?—until Bucky shakes his head and slicks his hair back. Then the words get caught in Sam’s throat and he just kinda stares.

“There was a really gross fish down there,” Bucky informs him. “Do you guys have eels there? Mighta been an eel. Maybe we should get out.”

“Alrighty, scaredy-cat, let’s get you to shore.”

Bucky propels himself out in front, arms moving in powerful strokes, and Sam’s hand darts out on instinct, fingers closing around Bucky’s hard calf muscle. Bucky jerks and Sam burst into loud laughter.

“Did you think that was an eel? Did you?”

“You’re lucky I…”

I’m lucky you what? Sam wants to ask when Bucky trails off, but he just swims after him.

During their game/possible eel panic (there’s no way it was an eel), they weren’t always fighting the current, so they’ve drifted downstream some. Bucky takes sloppy, sloshing steps out of the water, underwear that might’ve been light grey now dark and plastered to his ass. Sam feels like he’s choked on river water, though his mouth is dry. He lumbers out too and they begin the march back in the direction of the dock and their clothes. The water tickles as it runs down Sam’s legs; must be bugging Bucky too because he plucks his waistband away from his skin before letting it snap back. Clenching his jaw, Sam stops himself from trying to see too much.

This end of the dock is made of old boards before it transitions to pavement farther down, wood smooth on Sam’s feet when he and Bucky haul themselves up, dropping their collected clothes and shoes into a single pile. No point getting dressed until they’re dry, so they sit on the edge of the dock, feet swinging. Feels good. Feels home. They don’t speak until the sun’s set, the sky orange, then grey, then rich, velvety blue.

“You know, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly.

“Know?”

“Yeah, you know. Whenever you don’t know something, you talk and talk—”

“Sometimes I can work through a problem better if I vocalize,” Sam explains.

“But when you do know,” Bucky goes on, ignoring Sam’s input, “you’re quiet.” He looks at Sam. “You’re quiet.”

What else is Sam? Nervous. His skin’s prickling with it, and because even the warm air feels cold when he’s just climbed out of the river. There’s a wet patch spreading around him that he can barely see with evening rapidly deepening into night. He lifts a hand from the dock and sweeps it up his neck, brushing water droplets away.

Without glancing over, he says, “You’re doing that thing you do.”

“What?”

“Staring. That new stare you do.”

“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledges. A bird starts calling, the sound drifting in and away like the sway of a hypnotist’s watch and Bucky’s silent until it’s over. “Maybe I’m staring for the same reason you’re quiet.”

Sam waits. Bucky doesn’t add anything, so Sam turns to look at his face, hung with cool shadows.

“You’re not gonna say it, are you?”

“I thought you would say it,” Bucky argues defensively.

“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like that for a week. You should go first!”

“Please, you don’t even know how I’m staring at you, I only do it when you’re not looking.”

“Do it now then and see what happens,” Sam dares him.

“Fine.”

Just like that, Bucky locks in like Sam’s attention is the only handhold on a sheer cliffside. Vital and stable, a last chance, the one thing around him that wants to help him higher instead of watching him fall. A lot of that’s familiar from his regular hard stare, but then something opens up behind his eyes. Some fragile thing (that might be Bucky’s sense of caution) breaks. Suddenly, Sam’s seeing what Joaquin saw in the news footage and amateur cell phone video. Except he’s seeing it two feet in front of him. It’s intense. It makes the air a little harder to breathe.

Bucky’s lips curve into a smile, then part as he says, “I love—”

Hopefully, he wasn’t going to end that sentence with ‘store-bought cake,’ because Sam can’t really take back his reaction. The finger slipping behind Bucky’s ear as he cradles his face, the mouth sealed to his. Especially that. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back, just as hard, and then harder.

“Thank god,” Sam pants when they break apart.

“You interrupted me.”

“I got you to stop talking? Guess we’re in my miracle.”

“I’d complain…” Bucky shrugs. “…but your miracle is pretty nice.”

“Not bad, right?”

He sighs and looks out over the water. Bucky pushes up on his fists and sits closer, offering his hand for Sam to interlace their fingers.

“Hey,” Sam prompts when it hits him that it’s super dark outside and they aren’t gonna dry much more like this, “did you book a hotel room again?”

“You kiddin’ me? I spent all my money on that cake.”

Sam laughs.

“Right, well, I guess you need a place to stay tonight then.”

“You know anything nearby?” Bucky asks with a soft smile.

Getting to his feet and bracing to pull Bucky up after him, Sam uses his free hand to motion towards their clothing pile.

“Put your pants on,” he says, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Joaquin Torres #Sarah Wilson #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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iliumheightnights · 4 years ago

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Eternity | Jacob Black x Male Reader

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Jacob Black x Male Reader

Summary: Jacob searches for his imprint. After years the rest of his pack has found their imprints and lived their lives. Jacob still searches for his own, only to find out his imprint is not who or what he expected.

…

Jacob ran through the woods of Canada. He had left La Push such a long time ago, it almost felt like a lifetime. Wanting to find his imprint, he decided to keep shifting to help prolong his life to do so. He watched as his pack had all found their imprints and lived their lives, having kids and families. Enjoying their life. As he grew older he watched as everyone he knew passed on, leaving him alone. Well not completely alone, he still could talk to Bella and the Cullens but what was the point of it? It wasn’t like they were close or anything, just a reminder of the past.

It had been five years since Jacob had last been human. He had slowly begun to fall into his wolf, letting it take over his mind. He was more wolf than man now. He had almost forgotten about why he had phased in the first place, since he was letting the wolf’s nature take over him. That was until he caught onto a scent that was familiar to both him and his wolf. A leech. This far out in the woods though, that was strange. The wolf began running towards the threat that arose in him.

As he ran through the woods, memories returned to him. Memories of his old pack, Sam, Paul, Jared. His best friends Embry and Quil. Even his own Pack with Leah and Seth. Memories of them messing around and going on patrols together, protecting their land. They were a family and now they were gone and Jacob was alone. He would find this leech and kill them, for the people he lost.

The stench came closer and closer. When he came into proximity he launched himself and came crashing down on the creature below him. He pushed his paws into the leech’s arms pinning them to the ground and he raised his head to strike but was stopped when he finally looked at the face of the leech. Below him was a male vampire who looked afraid, his eyes were golden instead of red. Just like the Cullens. Jacob looked into the man’s eyes and felt his world shift around him and memories of his friends finding their imprints appeared and he saw his dad and mom before she was taken from them. Jacob couldn’t believe, this man, this leech...was his imprint. Frustrated, Jacob let go and stalked off, leaving the man stunned and afraid on the ground.

It was the next day and Jacob was still thinking about everything that happened. It wasn’t unheard of for an imprint to be the same sex, infact Quil had imprinted on his boyfriend. Plus that wasn’t the problem that Jacob was having, it was the fact he had imprinted on a le- a vampire. The sworn enemy of his tribe. But with the Cullens it was shown that it wasn’t as black and white as they thought. The man from earlier had golden eyes, which meant he probably drank animal blood and looked more afraid than anything. Pushing himself up from the ground, he began following the scent of his imprint. He had waited for so long, he wasn’t about to lose him now. Not for his own stupid reasons.

The man hadn’t gone far, in fact, he was still really close. Especially for someone who was just attacked by a giant wolf the other day. Following his nose, Jacob found the man in a cave by a large pond. He noticed how the man seemed to be...sad. He walked slower until the man caught sight of him and started backing up. Jacob let out a whine and laid down, lowering his ears. The man eventually started moving closer to him and began petting him. “Huh, not what I thought. Who’s a good boy?” The man smiled and Jacob felt his heart flutter. It had been so long since he had any sort of attention and now all he wanted was love and affection from this man. Jacob wanted to phase back but found it difficult to focus on his human form, had it been so long?

After multiple tries, Jacob still couldn’t phase back. Eventually he gave in to staying his wolf form for the time being. The man had warmed up even more to him, petting and laying down with him. Jacob’s warm fur a nice contrast to his own cold skin. Days had passed and Jacob learned that the man’s name was (M/N) and that he had been a somewhat new vampire. Not necessarily a newborn but new enough to get used to animal blood instead of human blood. (M/N) however was still afraid that he could hurt someone so he had been staying in the woods away from people.

One night Jacob was laying down, (M/N) sleeping next to him. While (M/N) didn’t need to sleep, he said it helped reduce his need for blood. Jacob had drifted off to sleep and memories came back. A man that seemed familiar among the rest of his old pack, then he realized it was him. His human form. When he woke up he found himself no longer his wolf, but his human self. Having hands and two legs again was a weird feeling. ‘W-who are you and why are you naked!?” Jacob turned and saw (M/N) looking at him at a distance again. Then Jacob realized he was in fact naked. Covering himself Jacob began to explain. “It’s...It’s kind of hard to explain. Short answer is, I’m the wolf that’s been with you (M/N).” Jacob could hear how his voice was hoarse from the years of not talking. It was strange to talk again, anything human really was. (M/N) seemed confused until his eyes widened. “Oh my god. How is that-how’s that possible?” (M/N) gave Jacob his jacket to wrap around himself and Jacob told him everything. His pack, his tribe, the cullens, why he phased.

“So...you phased to find your imprint staying your current age?” (M/N) asked, Jacob nodded in response. “And I’m your imprint?” Jacob nodded again. “Okay. I think I understand. So your imprint can be whatever you need them to be a friend or a lover? What would you like ME to be?” Jacob blushed at that but cleared his throat. “I don’t mind whatever but...I know that I really want to be close to you and just...hold you.” (M/N) was sure if he could blush he would. “Alright then. I won’t lie, this is all so new and I don’t really know you that well but...we can try this.” Jacob smiled widely standing up, accidentally dropping the jacket and (M/N) looked everywhere but Jacob. “First we should probably find you some clothes though.” Jacob covered himself again. “Sorry, when you’re a wolf you don’t really need them.”

Weeks had passed since that moment in the cave. Jacob and (M/N) had returned to civilization. Jacob helped keep (M/N) grounded and comforted him when he needed to. (M/N) discovered that even though Jacob was a wolf he was practically one big teddy bear. He always wanted to be held or to be touching (M/N) in some way never wanting to be far from him. It was nice, both had moved in together seeing as they were pretty much the only people they had. They had fallen into a nice domestic lifestyle.

Jacob had gone back to La Push to visit some of the kids of his old pack to see how they were doing. (M/N) decided to stay back so that he wouldn’t accidentally cause more shifters to pop up. During this time (M/N) realized just how close he had gotten to Jacob and how much he missed him. When Jacob finally returned he saw just how much he missed him too. That night was a lot of kissing and cuddling on the couch watching cheesy rom coms.

There was also a plus side to having a boyfriend who was also a wolf. Some days (M/N) would come home to find Jacob in his wolf form laying on the floor waiting for him. It was like having the best of both worlds. It also meant that he would be able to keep his aging down so that he could stay with (M/N) for as long as he could.

One day Jacob got in contact with Bella, who was surprised to hear from him believe he gave up on finding his imprint long ago. He introduced (M/N) to her and the other Cullens who were happy that he had found his imprint. They even offered for them to live with them but the two turned them down preferring to stay by themselves.

The two didn’t know what the future held for them, but they knew they had a long time to figure it out. Both were so happy to have each other and that they both loved one another. Maybe if they talked and planned enough they would have a family down the line, like Jacob wanted. But for the moment, the two knew they loved each other for eternity.

#twilight #jacob black #jacob black x male reader #jacob black x male!reader #jacob black x reader #twilight x male reader #twilight x male!reader #twilight x reader

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randynova · 4 years ago

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𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐎𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡ 𝐆𝐍! 𝐒/𝐎

◇◇◇◇◇

A.N.: I hope you enjoy these and this is what I feel would apply to Shirou. At the moment, I am not taking requests but when I do, I will announce it!

Also thank you, dear people, for liking my last NSFW headcanons! It really motivated to write this and made me feel better about my writing. I’m still gonna be inactive due to school but hey! My health is much better and I’m focusing on school at the moment.

Enjoy!

◇◇◇◇◇

Shiro is a 1,000 year old virgin and has no experience, but he knows a basic amount of knowledge about the world of sex and its wonders. Sort of.

But it’s only because he was so focused on the peace and happiness of his fellow beastmen that he neglected this aspect of himself. Plus, it never really came up and if it did, he got distracted with something else.

So imagine when he meets his S/O, who may or may not be experienced or know more about sex than him. If you do have experience, cool! You can show and lead him steadily into the unknown. If you don’t, that’s okay! This will be a learning experience for both of you and you’ll both be at roughly the same pace.

Shirou is mainly vanilla for a majority of the time, being interested mainly in love-making at first rather than just ‘fucking’. It takes time for him to move into having sex for other reasons; such as stress-relieving, for fun, to experiment, etc. Be patient.

At first, Shirou’s natural instincts do kick in and he’ll automatically resort to the traditional doggy-style position. But don’t worry, he does start going into other positions as more time passes.

His favorites are missionary, modified doggy-style/leapfrog, cowgirl/cowboy, and the chairman.

As time goes on, it’s discovered that Shirou is a bottom; please don’t argue with me on this. He’s between a power bottom and pillow prince. A perfect mix of wanting to show his S/O some pleasure and teasing them but also just sitting back and letting his S/O take the lead.

On the rare times that he tops, he has two preferences. Most times, he is still gentle but shows a possessive side and gets a bit rough. So prepare to be more sore than usual. I'll go more into detail in a bit. Very rarely does he get rough.

Shirou isn’t that kinky, I’m saying it now. As much as I love other fandoms, I just can’t see Shirou Ogami as being extremely kinky. He’ll have a few kinks that seem a bit extreme (no, not BDSM) but that is once he gets really comfortable with his S/O.

But keep in mind, people change and I might write him indulging in certain kinks if you guys want me to. Like, I’m pretty open-minded but for certain things.

There is a safe word and all sexual activity must stop once it’s used. Shirou decided it to be “Beast Peace” as it kind of goes with the situation; you want peace, he wants peace, we all want peace. There is also a safe word for outside use and it’s mainly used when someone is upset, the occasional arguing/fighting has gotten to be too much, or when one of them is in a dangerous or uncomfortable situation. It’s “Spring on Jupiter.”

Random SFW HC: He likes the song “Fly me to the Moon.”

Moving on, he has a praise kink. Tell him how good he’s doing, how handsome he is, how much you love him, how amazing it feels, and more. Hearing his S/O’s beautiful voice praising him in his most vulnerable state makes him feel euphoric and quite relaxed; it makes him feel loved.

He doesn’t really like dirty talk, but it’s mainly the degrading kind. His S/O can dirty talk to him only if they praise him while doing it. Once, his S/O tried the really dirty talk and he couldn’t take it, it actually hurt him a bit and he immediately stopped, using the safe-word.

If his S/O apologizes right away, he’ll forgive them. But if they don’t, he’ll be a bit cold and hurt for a while - he needs some alone time as being emotionally attacked while vulnerable made him feel threatened and attacked. He doesn’t wanna be hurt that way again.

Please, apologize right away if any slip ups do occur or else he’ll be emotionally distant for a bit.

He likes the occasional rough sex, as mentioned before. Maybe after a stressful day working to keep the peace in Beast City or just to let his pent-up emotions out somehow. This is the rare times he’ll top, like I mentioned before. He’ll ask before he does so though and if his S/O agrees, he takes them then and there. He likes doing it quick for a majority of the occasional times as he doesn't really like being rough with you.

Let’s say you’re in the library.

Shirou pulls his pants and underwear down hastily, doing the same to you as he bends you over the couch’s arm. He quickly plunges himself into you, drilling his hips at an inhuman speed and relishing in the way your walls wrapped so snugly against his pulsing cock. One hand brushes against your hips, digging his nails into your skin while the other trailed over to your nether regions. The beastman quickly began to stimulate your sacred parts, his nimble fingers working wonders and pulling sweet and sinful sounds from your mouth . God, how lucky he is to have such an amazing person as you? Very lucky he was.

His hands leave their respectful places, one of his hands moving to your head and grabbing a fistful of hair, his finger clutching locks at their root. He yanked it back with one quick move and he threw his head back in bliss.

Low growls rip from his throat, melting into soft whimpers as he picks up the pace, if it’s even possible. The quick , small moans he hears invigorates him and he releases your hair, his hands going back to their previous spots. He leans over, his hands never leaving their place as he bites your shoulder harshly. You yelp, groaning at the sensation of his teeth pricking your skin, sucking hungrily as if you were his last meal, surely leaving a dark welt.

You shiver as you feel Shirou’s hot tongue run over the area, only to repeat the process on your neck. The hand on your hip left and soon Shirou’s arm wrapped itself around your waist, pulling your bodies closer. “So beautiful,” he whispers, his thrusts beginning to get messy and erratic. “You’re so good to me, [N/N]... Ah! Ngh..” He harshly thrusted into you. Shirou’s fingers, sensational love bites, and numbing thrusts soon became too much and you felt yourself unwind. You squeeze around him and release over his hand, releasing a loud and broken moan.

Shirou whimpered, his eyebrows knitting together and his jaw tightening at the pure ecstasy he was experiencing. With a few final quick and deep thrusts, Shirou releases his seed in you and lets out a low moan. Both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes, panting and indulging in the moment. You peered over your shoulder and smiled at your lover.

“That was… something, huh?”

I feel like some people wonder if he’ll go down on his S/O in his beastman form. The answer is yes. There are occasions where he gets so into it that he transforms subconsciously/involuntarily, but there are also occasions where he does it willingly.

The high chances of him turning into a beastman is when he’s stressed, gets overwhelmed, or if his S/O asks.

Shirou’s moans are like a beautiful note being played by Apollo’s harp - absolute music to the ears. They’re soft, mellow moans that stimulate something within and they’re beautiful. Sometimes he whimpers, whines, or groans but his moans are the best.

He likes to try and stay quiet but soon the pleasure gets too much and he starts moaning a bit louder, whimpering his S/O’s name and muttering incoherent words of how he feels.

Let me get this out of the way - Shirou has howled in the bedroom before. He has howled many times in fact. But our wolfman can’t help it, I mean, you treat him like absolute royalty as you focus on his pleasure, making sure he’s satisfied no matter what. For example:

He feels himself being pushed over the edge as your velvet walls squeeze around his throbbing member, milking him for all he’s got as you bounce on his cock. Shirou’s hips wildly buck upwards, throwing his head back into the pillow whilst he shuts his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that was enveloping his whole being. He squeezes your hips tightly, digging his nails into your delicate skin. The beastman could hear the sweet sound of your voice, purring praises of how good he was and how well he was receiving you.

Small whimpers leave him, strained moans and pants roll off his tongue, and he’s muttering your name like a mantra. The euphoric ecstasy soon gets to be too much, feeling a familiar coil start to tighten and threaten to unwind. Shirou feels your walls tighten even more around him, noticing how you bounce faster on his cock and more erratically. You lean over and bury your face into his chest, your own climax fast approaching.

Shirou growls, running his hands to your bottom and firmly grasping it, ramming his hips up at a godly speed. “Shirou, so.. Ah! So good!” You moan, everything becoming too much for you. You release a high-pitch moan, spilling your juices over your lover’s skin.

Shirou soon followed, suddenly spilling his hot seed deep into you and releasing a deep, broken and raw howl; the sound of his howl was surely heard throughout the city.

Hopefully you enjoyed that little excerpt of one of the times Shirou howled in the bedroom.

Now let’s get into the kinks.

He likes mirror sex

He absolutely loves the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, how your eyes roll back as he bucks his hips into you, bouncing as both of you chase your own climaxes.

Seeing how he can make you crumble under his touch, moan and whimper his name, making eye contact as the knot in your stomach snaps.

*mwuah* Beautiful.

He likes having sex in different locations, but rarely.

Occasionally, he likes taking you on the kitchen counter, the couch, or the floor. His top three favorite places, right next to the bedroom of course.

You look like a whole meal in the kitchen? He’ll gently take you then and there on the counter, missionary or doggy-style, your choice.

Both of you happen to get a little handsy in the living room or get bored watching a movie, both of you will get a lil’ freaky. He takes you from behind, lifting your leg a bit as he inserts you slowly.

If you want to cockwarm, he’ll absolutely go along and just lie down with you like that. His member held firmly by your velvet walls.

Listen, the only reason you guys fuck on the floor is because on some instance, both of you will fall off the bed or couch and just continue your business without moving.

He sorta likes semi-public sex.

You know how wolves have ruts and heats? Yeah, Shirou has that period of his testosterone levels rising and he goes f e r a l.

He wants to fuck you here, he wants to fuck you there, he wants to fuck you everywhere. This man needs some sort of relief, alright? However, usually his self-control is pretty good and he can hold back from pouncing you in public - most of the time.

If he can’t take it anymore and you happen to be out with him at the time, he will take you then and there. He drags you to a nearby closet or bathroom and fucks you raw, having your legs wrap around his waist as you bounce on his cock or he drills his length into you as he pushes you against the wall, thrusting and rutting until both of you reach that sweet release.

Luckily, he carries some tissues with him and cleans both of you up. He kisses your forehead and attempts to fix both of you up, trying to get rid of the fresh-sex look before either one of you step back out.

Shirou does not like to be called daddy/sir/master/etc. It makes him feel weird and uncomfortable. If his S/O tries to, he immediately shuts them down with a look, explaining how it makes him feel. He sees no point in it and rather be called by his name or a sweet nickname - he wants to keep this simple. I believe it's because he's had bad experiences with most authority figures so he feels a bit powerless and in some sort of danger.

If you want to call him that, then good luck because Shirou won’t accept it and only wants to be called by his name/nickname(s). If you don’t like it and keep pushing for it, Shirou will eventually suggest his S/O to find someone else if they can’t respect and accept the boundaries he has set.

And if you're thinking just because he's a bottom, he'll like it, you're wrong. Period.

That being said, Shirou won’t really indulge in the daddy/mommy kink, he feels uncomfortable.

He has a biting kink. Shirou Ogami loves biting his S/O and leaving marks on their skin; it gives him a primal sense of intimacy. He won't do it right away though, he'll reveal it later in the relationship.

Shiro loves grazing his teeth against your skin, nibbling it before sinking his teeth in, and sucking the soft flesh until he leaves a noticeable red welt behind.

The moans you make as he makes one feels him with pride and love.

Oh but hey! He loves them too! When his S/O gives him his own markings, he can't help but whimper and hold them close, feeling so happy that you, his mate, has decided to grace him with.

Now you may be wondering, "hey, does shirou have a breeding kink since he's a wolf??"

Oh yeah, definitely. He has a breeding kink and wishes nothing more than to fill you to the brim with his cum if it means there's a chance you'll carry his pups. Even if his S/O can't have children, he still enjoys the thought of filling them up.

However, he is pretty shy about it and usually pulls out. If you two are using protection, he'll unload and just toss the condom in the trash.

Shirou is still gentle, he’ll only turn it up a notch if you beg him to reorganize your guts and milk him for all you got.

Oh, aftercare? Don’t worry! Shirou has already got that covered. He’s already carrying you to the bathroom, running a nice hot bath for you and rummaging through the fridge for your favorite snacks. He returns and gently helps you bathe yourself. Once both of you are done, he carries you to your shared bed and pulls out your fav snacks, letting you happily eat them as he goes to take a quick shower. He joins you in bed soon afterwards and starts to softly rub all the places he hurt, muttering small apologies and praises.

He turns into his beastman form as he knows you love cuddling into his fluff, especially after sex.

Remember how I said he likes “Fly Me to The Moon”? You two hum the song after sex, especially after a rough, draining session.

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©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜.

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years ago

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The Run | The Good Doctor pt 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x Reader slow burn

Summary: You had a bit more responsibility than you'd expected, not to say you didn't know what you were doing

Warnings: none really, cussing, ooc Negan, slow burn, it's cute, I miss some and am not perfect, read at your own risk

A/N: This is part three to the Good Doctor Part 3! Thank you for being patient and I hope to have part four up much quicker. I liked this even though it's just some logistical stuff and insight, here is part two!

Maybe he thinks he can fix me, sucks for him, I'm broken beyond repair.

When you woke up, Negan had his hand on your shoulder, you immediately grabbed the gun under your pillow, holding it under his chin. He immediately grabbed the gun and twisted it out of your hands, your eyes now fully open and awake. You didn't realize he was eye level with you, how hot it was for him to control your gun like that, how hot he was staring into your eyes, waiting for your next move. You were frozen, you're not sure he equated it with anything but sleep, but he was captivating.

He laughed, hands up, "Damn, doll, just trying to fuckin' wake you up without fuckin' scaring you, see that was fuckin' pointless," his eyebrows raised as he shook the gun by the barrel at you, "you want it back or not?" You shook your head in disbelief as you took your gun and put it down, shocked that you held a gun to someone for just trying to wake you up. "I-I'm sorry, I guess it was just-" Negan laughed, "No worries, doll, at least I know you can take care of yourself."

You smiled, throwing the blanket off of you and swinging your legs over the couch, “So,” you stood up and began folding the blanket, “what’s the plan?” He watched you fold the blanket, not trying to hide the fact that his eyes roamed your body. Taking in the battered bluejeans that hugged your body, the scratched and slightly torn tank top, your hair shining against the sun, really popping the color out. “We’re going to drive a little longer than I’d hoped but,” he huffed, “the towns supposed to have some more supplies left than we’d originally thought, we should be back by dark.” You shrugged, “Should be fun, are we ready to leave now?”

Negan leaned against the desk, you took all of him in. He was wearing his classic leather jacket over the tattered t-shirt and blue jeans that laid over his steel toe boots. He watched as you put your hair into a pony tail, shirt playing peekaboo with the skin on your torso, “Right after breakfast doll. You ready?” You nodded at him, heading to the door with him following close behind.

Once you had sat down for breakfast Negan started shoveling food down, a full plate compared to your half rations. You didn’t really have much of an appetite, worried about everything that could happen with Negan today. He didn’t seem to notice, and by the time you’d finished your small plate, he was already done eating too. He grabbed your plate so he could return it with his own. You picked up the bags and followed suit, following him out the door and to his truck.

The truck was huge. Had to have been able to fit half of Alexanndria's storage. You’d wondered how much he was planning to come back with. It started to make a little more sense when a small portion of his crew jumped into the back, probably for protection. You climbed into the truck after Negan opened the door for you, closing it once he’d known your feet were out of the way. Then proceeding to climb in his own side.

Negan started the truck, taking you in before he started rolling. Your legs crossed, fingers interlocked at the top of your thighs, thumbs picking at each other, ankle continuously moving. You watched the trucks behind you, following close, at least three others. Did all of them have people in the back? How big was this run?

You were clearly nervous and he hated that, he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible. He tried to ignore it, but after fifteen minutes of non stop thought through his head, he had to say something. "God damn doll," Negan bellowed, "you're gonna roll the damn truck if you don't stop shaking so much," Negan lightly rubbed your forearm, a foreign thing to you, "what're ya so fuckin' nervous about anyway princess?"

You shrugged, a look of uneasiness resting on your face at his nickname for you that didn't go unnoticed, "Just don't know how to act with your group, what're your run rules? Where do I not be in the way? Will I distract you and your men? I'm used to going solo, or with one or two people. There's so-" Negan had to stop your monologue, knowing you've asked these questions twenty times since yesterday. "Don't fuckin' worry about it," Negan smiled, "I made sure this was gonna be fun for you." Your eyebrows curled, needing him to explain.

Negan blushed? No way, you thought and left it alone. "What do you mean?" He shrugged, "You'll see, won't you doll?" You huffed, "Well that just makes me more nervous." Negan let out a hearty laugh, "Damn girl, pull at this old assholes strings huh?" He shook his head, "I'm your personal companion today," he giggled at your slap to his arm. "I don't need a baby sitter!" He raised he hands very quickly to show defense, "No! But, wherever you go, I do. Whatever you fuckin' say, that's law. Everyone else goes at your direction too," he paused, looking at you, "but you don't leave my fuckin' sight," his eyes bore into you, demanding confirmation. "Yeah, okay," you smiled lightly.

"So," Negan's fingers drilled the steering wheel as he hummed at you to continue, "what's in this place?" Negan shifted, "It's a little town, the rest is a surprise." He looked genuinely excited, and you wondered how this apocalypse had changed him as a man. He couldn't have always been this heartless. "Do I get any hints?" Negan hummed again, this time searching for something to give you, "You'll fuckin' like it." You shrugged, "Maybe." He glanced to your bag where you keep your notebook, a gentle reminder of his broken trust. "Oh," you cleared your throat, "hopefully." He beamed at you, "Come on lil' fuckin' firecracker," he pressed the gas a couple more times, gently swerving the car to play with you, "be more fuckin' excited! I'm fuckin' kidding!"

The rest of the way you could believe how different Negan was being. He was intently talking to you about the grid of the town, what his crew already know about, how his crew has already been briefed that you're running it, explained the teams to you and that you're header, leading the team leaders, and he's told you that he's confident you have this ability. You were shocked about him being completely different man that with other people. You were sure that you could be with the man sitting in the truck with you, and you were sure that you couldn't be with the man who murdered someone you considered to be your brother. You were torn between seeing his good and never forgiving him for killing Glenn, how could he do something so vile? You shook your head, drawing attention back to the road and off of your thoughts.

When you arrived, Negan placed his hand on your thigh, just barely touching you. "There is one rule," he smiled, "stay here." Negan was gone for no more than two minutes. He finally came to your door, opening it and revealing his many men standing behind him, "Make sure you're safe." He reached for your hand, dropping you down to the same man who stole from you in your clinic, you glared him hiding behind Negan.

Negan stepped out of the way, the man looking guilty, "Hello, Doctor Y/n," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for stealing from an honorable woman." He handed you a gum pack, missing a few pieces, and a small pack of skittles, "I couldn't find gum to replace what I'd stolen, so I hoped that the skittles would excuse my poor manners." You smiled hatefully at him, taking what was in his hand, "Apology accepted..." you waited for him to say his name, but Negan chimed in. "Brady," and he slapped the other man on the shoulder eliciting a smile, "and Simon." You smiled, reaching your hand out to shake Simon's hand, "I've heard." Negan smiled at you, "Good we're all fuckin' aquatinted," he roughly slapped Brady's shoulder, you didn't miss the wince he tried to hide, "these two travel with us period. So, Y/n," a bright smile, "what's the fucking plan?"

With that you noticed the other men had cleared a path for you, letting you view the town. At this point you took in the town, looking at the tiny shops and small streets. Negan wasn't kidding, it's a small town, surely the four trucks you bought could fit everything. You thought for a second, and it hit you, how much work he had put into this. You smiled to yourself, knowing that he wanted to make this go smoothly for you, hence the perfect amount of trucks, a grid, briefed men.

You walked a little behind you, looking at the different streets, looking at Negan, he smiled, giving you some confidence. "You said that you'd already separated these men by trucks? With their usual teams?" You whispered to Negan, "Yes ma'am, they're with their usual team leaders and already armored, just need you to tell them where to go n what to do."

"Okay, so here's my plan-" Negan put his hand up, gesturing to the men when you realized you should be talking to them. You cleared your throat, "Okay, so here's the plan," Negan's body was just barely pressing against you, standing behind you on your left side, his hands in his pockets, watching his men intently listen to you. How hard did he work on this for you?

"If you came in Negan's truck, you're with us on main," you motioned with your hand to have them move to the side, "Truck two-or rather-team two, you're going to our left, Combs Street, when you get to the library, we're looking for education books, if we have time and space after you've gotten everything else essential on the street, comb the library taking the fun books, that's a good part of life now." Negan nodded, liking your plan for education first, noting that the houses on the street might hold value, but acknowledging that we still need distractions like 'fun books' if circumstances allowed.

"Truck three, hit the residential area, on Langley Street," you continued when the men nodded their heads, "Truck four, hit the shops to our right on second street," everyone started moving and you shouted, "wait!" You cleared your throat once again, "Team leaders, I need you and your right hand man, everyone else stay put."

You pulled out the grid as the men surrounded you, "So you've got the left and right sides on your street, split in half, half on Side A, the left, half on side B, the right, this will increase the time we can spend in the houses and avoid stepping on each others feet. Every time you clear a house you call it in, for example, team four A, you would say 'Team Four, A1 clear, moving to A2,' or 'Team Four A Trapped, requesting Four B at A3.' I need you to do this so I can designate resources and men, keep up with the lives and walkers. No need for needless death, check in." Everyone nodded, you smiled, "Anybody have questions, comments or concerns?" The men shook their heads and you turned back towards the crowd, "Alright, everyone knows what you're doing, no-one goes anywhere alone or unarmed. Take everything useful. Do not let your guard down and watch your backs. Dismissed." At that the men dissipated, going on their own assignments.

"Was that okay?" You looked to Negan, the need for approval swimming through your eyes, Negan nodded, "I think it was great, Simon what about you?" Simon chirped up, "Oh yeah, couldn't have done it better myself, I don't make them check in that much but that's okay." You smiled at Simon, wondering how he could not worry about his men that much. You watched as Team One had already started moving toward the first building, them the first check-ins started.

"Team One, heading to A1," a pause, "Team One, heading to B1," another pause, "Team Two, heading to A1." You listened to the team list off their locations, smiling as everyone checked in. "Alright, doll," Negan leaned against the truck, "Where to first?"

#twd negan #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #negan x y/n #negan angst #negan fluff #negan x you #negan imagine #negan fic #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #Jdm fanfic

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gallavictorious · 3 years ago

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Gallavich Week Day 2: Fantasy AU

Summary: Prince Ian is offered up as a sacrifice to appease one of the dragons that haunt his father’s kingdom. Rather than being burned alive or eaten he is inexplicably left to wander the dragon’s lair in peace, as long as he never tries to leave and never enters the mysterious tower chamber. Then he meets fellow prisoner Mikhailo and starts to wonder if maybe this whole sacrificial gig isn’t such a bad deal after all.

Or, Ian Gallagher tells a bedtime story, and Mickey Milkovich is himself.

Fair Warning 1: There’s some Mickey-typical homophobic language in this one.

Fair Warning 2: I wrote all ridiculous 5K of this today (work? what work?) and it’s a little bit of a curious mess. Like, the sort of curious mess you get if you take Lip’s Hall of Shame, @gardenerian’s lovely bedtime stories, the novel “Dealing with Dragons” by Patricia Wrede, the Swedish picture book “Bröllop i Marsipanien” by Lena Karlin, the Greek myth of Andromeda, a bunch of folk tales about shapeshifting lovers, and the questionable old practice of MSTing fics, and then you stuff them all into a Kee and shake her around for a bit and then you pour it out into the shape of a 12 hour long and highly inadvisable speedwriting session.

Read it at your own risk, below or on AO3.

Very Important Note: I make fun of fic writing in this fic. Please note that I’m only making fun of myself and general tropes; any and all allusions to actual fic in the fandom is entirely coincidental.

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Lest They Say, Here Be Dragons

Hush now, child; settle down. Close your eyes – yes, just like that – and listen:

Once upon a time and elsewhere, there was a kingdom. The people there were no happier than people anywhere else, and poorer than most, but they made do and lived and danced and grieved and died as people have always done.

Jesus, that’s gay.

That is, until the dragons came.

Okay, now you’re talking.

Like a plague they swept the land, winged beasts with fire for breath and ice in their hearts. Every night the fields burned, and the villages burned, and the cattle burned and was eaten. Many a brave people took up arms and went to confront the monsters, and then they burned too.

Heart-broken and terrified, the people went to the king to plead for aid. “Send an emissary to the dragons,” they said. “Reason with them and strike a bargain, or else we are sure to perish.”

What a bunch of pussies. What they should do is, they should use a bunch a cow shit to build a bomb and nuke the hell out of those dragons. Problem fucking solved.

Now, this king was a scoundrel and a drunk and the queen had an unfortunate habit of turning herself into a bird and flying off to more interesting lands whenever the mood took her. They had six children but rarely paid them any mind and fair Princess Fiona, eldest of the six, was left to raise her younger siblings as best she could. False King Francis would have been perfectly content to turn his desperate subjects away if it weren’t for the fact the dragons unchecked rampage threatened the production of the spirits the king so enjoyed. So, donning a mask of compassionate concern, for he was a skilled liar, he promised the people that he would help them. But as soon as they had left, comforted, he turned the task over to his children.

The second oldest child, foxy Prince Philip—

Foxy Prince Philip?

Yeah, you know. Foxy. Like clever.

Why not just say clever then?

‘Cause it’s not alliterative.

Alliter—

Starts with the same sound. Foxy – Philip. Fair – Fiona.

Oh, I get it. Like, Ian – idiot. Ow!

Foxy Prince Philip was known far and wide for being the cleverest in all the land, and by using all his cunning he managed to strike a deal with the leader of the dragons.

“By using all his cunning.” Skimming over the details a bit there, huh?

You really want me to turn this into a Prince Philip story? Hear me go on and on about what a genius he is?

…

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

It was agreed that the dragons would spread out over the kingdom, each one building their own place to live near a village, and that the villagers would bring them food and drink. In turn, the dragons would refrain from casual pyromancy and protect the villagers from harm.

Protection racket, huh. Classic. Starting to like these dragons, man.

In addition, the cruel leader of the dragons demanded that each dragon be offered a child of the land in sacrifice. No matter how Prince Philip bargained he could not change the dragon’s cold heart on this—

Guess he wasn’t so clever after all.

—and so, with heavy hearts and much lamenting, each village drew lots to determine which poor child would be sent as an offering to their new resident dragon. However, in the village nearest to the castle the people grew angry when the beloved blacksmith’s only child, a small girl of just four, was selected, and they went to the king and they said:

“It isn’t fair that some people are asked to give up their only child to appease the dragons while you, who have six children, are exempt from the lottery.”

King Francis, fearing an uprising as much as he feared the dragons (since each was as likely as the other to leave him without a drink), quickly nodded.

“That’s true,” he said. “And fairness must ever be the true monarchs first and most important concern. Though it breaks my heart, I can’t in good conscience watch my people sacrifice their own children without offering up my own. You may take Prince Ian and give him to the dragon.”

At this, the other princes and princesses raised their voices in furious protest, for they loved their brother even if their father did not. But industrious Prince Ian—

Industrious? That really the best you can come up with?

—stepped forward and declared that he’d be happy to give up his life, so that the child of the blacksmith might be spared. And so, as the sunt set, he was taken away to the lair of the dragon that had made its home near the castle.

So let me get this straight… The king is happy to toss Prince Ian to the wolves ‘cause he hates him, and his siblings are all sad and shit but they still let him go off to get fucking eaten by dragons?

Yes.

Uh-huh.

What?

…

Oh, fuck you. It’s just a story.

Totally.

Stepping into the lair, with heart a-hammering but on stubbornly steady legs, Prince Ian set eyes upon the beast that was to be his destiny. He was momentarily relieved to see it was not the terrible leader of the dragons, as he had feared, but a smaller monster he did not recognize. Black was its hide, its eyes a cold sparkling blue—

Gallagher, I swear to god, if you turn me into some lame ass henchman dragon—

Keep interrupting, asshole, and it’ll be a pink fucking unicorn. And hang on, you’ll show up in a little bit.

Setting his jaw, Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death—

‘Course he did, the stupid motherfucker. Hey, if Prince Philip was so fucking smart, and if he gave a shit about his brother, shouldn’t he have given him, I dunno, a knife or something?

Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death, because unlike some other people he was not a selfish prick and he actually cared about the people of the kingdom, but much to his surprise the dragon did not burn him. Instead, it just stared at him for a good long while, until suddenly it declared:

“You must never leave the lair, and you must never set foot inside the tower chamber. Abide by these rules and you may live. Break these rules and I’ll rip your heart out and eat it while you watch, and then I’ll burn the castle down with your beloved siblings inside.”

You tell him, dragon.

With that the dragon took flight and disappeared, leaving Prince Ian to stand alone in the great hall of the lair, confused but alive. The young prince remained where he was for a few minutes, thinking that the dragon might come back, but when it did not he set out to explore his new home. It was big, with endless rooms and nooks and crannies, but it was badly kept, with strange bits and pieces cluttering up the hallways and chambers. Prince Ian found some old blankets and he used those to set up a pallet in one of the nicer rooms, one that had a view over a small, overgrown garden. And then, because it was very late and he was not dead, he went to sleep.

The next day he continued his explorations and managed to find the kitchen. It was full with the meat that the villagers brought the dragon once a month, and remembering that the beast had only forbidden him from leaving the lair and going into the tower chamber, Prince Ian helped himself to a piece of pork that he cooked over a small fire.

Hang on, was there a fridge in the kitchen?

No. This was the olden days.

But the villagers came once a month with the meat? How did the dragon keep from rotting?

That’s not really—

Was it dried? Like a Slim Jim?

… sure. It was dried.

As he was eating, Prince Ian heard a sudden scraping noise behind him.

The hell did he cook it over a fire for then, if it was dried?

He looked up and spied another young man standing in the doorway.

I’m just saying, it doesn’t make any fucking sense, man. Wait, is this me?

Prince Ian frowned. “Who are you?” he asked. “Are you a prisoner of the dragon too?”

The boy shrugged. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, I do some work around here. Clean up and shit, in exchange for not getting eaten. Name’s Mikhailo.”

About fucking time. Only, how is it fair that you get to be prince and I’m a fucking cleaner?

Prince Ian tactfully did not mention how the lair was impressively dirty for a place with a fulltime cleaner but invited Mikhailo to share his meal. As they ate, Prince Ian studied his new acquaintance. He was the same age as but shorter than the prince, with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony.

Hair as black as— The hell was that?

Nothing.

Yeah, okay, then why are you smiling? Eh, fuck you. Prince Ian’s fucking thirsty for Mikhailo, I get it.

Though his manner was somewhat brusque and uncouth, Prince Ian could not help but feel himself drawn to Mikhailo. The boy was funny and easy to talk to, even if he seemed reluctant to say too much about himself or where he came from. Prince Ian tried asking him about the dragon, but despite apparently having lived there ever since the dragon moved in, Mikhailo couldn’t tell him much.

“Hardly ever even see it, man. At dusk and dawn mostly, so I guess it spends the night flying around with the other dragons, terrorizing the peasants or whatever. During the day it holes up in the tower chamber. Guess dragons must sleep too, huh? Don’t fucking go up there,” he added sternly. “It ain’t fucking kidding about killing you if you do.”

Having found a friend, Prince Ian found that life at the dragon’s lair wasn’t all that bad. He missed his siblings and being outdoors and practicing with the soldiers at the castle, and he resented the loss of his freedom, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet, and enjoyed spending time with Mikhailo. However, one thing he soon grew very tired of was eating nothing but meat. The dragon didn’t seem to require anything else, for it was the only thing the villagers ever delivered, and Mikhailo – whose tasks included receiving the monthly tribute – just gave Prince Ian a weird look when Ian suggested he ask the people to bring some vegetables next month.

“That ain’t the deal they’ve got with the dragon,” he told Ian. “Ain’t nobody gonna listen to me if I go trying to change it.”

Yeah, real Prince Charming there, wanting Mikhailo to risk his life so Ian can stuff his face with fucking cucumber.

Undeterred by Mikhailo’s lack of enthusiasm and courage—

Fuck you.

—Prince Ian decided to take it up with the dragon himself. In the weeks since he arrived at the lair, he hadn’t met the creature again, not even once; he’d just heard the powerful swoosh of its wings when it came and went at dusk and dawn. Now he went up the stairs to the tower chamber and there he waited until night had fallen and he noted the scraping of claws against stone inside the room. Then he knocked at the door.

There was a long silence. Then the door slammed open with enough force to nearly undo it from its hinges.

“What are you doing here?!” the dragon roared, terrible in its fury. “I’ve told you to never come here!”

“You’ve told me to never set foot inside the room,” Ian reasoned, fighting to keep his voice calm. “And I’m not. I just wanted to ask if I may have the use of the small garden just outside the lair. I miss being outdoors and I could grow vegetables for Mikhailo and me.”

Jesus Christ, man, again with gardening? Thought you were over it.

“You may never leave the lair,” the dragon, a garden-hating meanie, snarled, and then he closed the door in Prince Ian’s face.

As he fucking should.

“Probably worried one of the villagers will spot you and, I dunno, mount a rescue,” Mikhailo said shortly the next morning when Prince Ian told him of his failed attempt. “Anyway, you’re a fucking idiot for going up there like that. You get it won’t hesitate to kill you, right?”

“Right,” Ian agreed. “But,” he added with a frown, “why hasn’t it yet?”

“You fucking complaining?” Mikhailo snapped, and then he stalked away, and Ian didn’t see him again for three days.

Listen, you get that I get that Mikhailo is the dragon, right? You’re not fooling anyone, Gallagher.

Then, one day, fed up with the dragon being a really annoying prick, Prince Ian grabbed a huge sword he conveniently found lying around in a cupboard, because the lair was a fucking pigsty, suitable for a pig like the dragon, and he went up the stairs and kicked in the door and he cut the dragon’s throat while it slept, and then he went off and found himself a nice prince to marry.

…

That’s not how the story ends.

…

Hey, where are you going? Come back- Jesus, I’m sorry, okay? Gallagher, I’m sorry. Just come back here. Tell me what really happened.

Prince Ian woke with a start on his pallet in the lair. He’d had the most vivid dream about killing the dragon—

A dream? That’s the lamest fucking— Ah, fuck. Sorry.

—but for some reason it hadn’t felt as satisfying as he had thought it would. For all that Prince Ian often fantasized about strangling the beast, it seemed he didn’t actually wish to see it dead. With that disconcerting realization in mind, Prince Ian went to break his fast, resigned to doing so on meat and yet more meat. But in the kitchen he found Mikhailo, and on the table in front of him was a pile of cabbage and carrots and onions.

“Guess the dragon must have talked to the villagers after all,” Mikhailo muttered, refusing to look at the prince. “And, uh, there was this thing I wanted to show you.”

Without waiting for a response, he spun around on his heel and walked out the door. Curious, Prince Ian followed, through doors and up and down stairs he never knew existed. Eventually, he found himself standing in what appeared to be an inner courtyard. It was small and the walls surrounding it very high, but up above the sky was blue. Prince Ian turned his face towards it and for the first time since he came to live at the dragon’s lair he felt sunlight on his face.

“It’s a shithole,” Mikhailo said. For some reason he sounded a little nervous. “But if you wanna go outside, you can come here. And there’s dirt in those bins, so I guess you could grow stuff in them? Just gotta wear this hat. Anyone sees you, they’ll just think it’s me.”

Privately, Prince Ian wondered who’d ever be able to see him behind walls that high, but he wasn’t going to argue. Wearing an ugly had was a small price to pay for being able to go outside, and to have a garden.

He gave Mikhailo a small smile; Mikhailo smiled back.

“Mikhailo smiled back.” Yeah, you bet he was laughing his ass off, ‘cause he thought Prince Ian was a huge fucking dork.

Things were good for a long while after that. Prince Ian spent his days in the garden and in Mikhailo’s company, and though he still resented being locked away from the world it was easy to ignore that when he had something to do and when his plants started to grow and when he was with Mikhailo. The two young men became closer and closer with each passing week, and soon it seemed to Prince Ian as if they had always known each other. He could no longer imagine a life without his friend.

He suspected that Mikhailo felt the same. It was there in the way he laughed at Prince Ian’s jokes; the way he sought him out to do nothing but talk; the way his gaze sometimes lingered on the prince, the look in his eyes unreadable.

Prince Ian suspected that Mikhailo too wondered what it would be like to press their lips together and hold each other tight. Sleep together; map every inch of each other’s bodies.

Hang on a minute, you’re telling me they haven’t fucked yet? The hell they’ve been doing?

I told you. Hanging out. Talking. Laughing.

Jesus Christ, that’s so fucking gay.

Two men not fucking each other is gay? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. One day we really need to talk about all your internalized homophobia.

My interna-what? Ah, shut the fuck up. Continue with the story. All these interruptions ain’t doing much for the flow, you know.

Really? I hadn’t noticed.

Prince Ian became determined to find out if Mikhailo felt the same way as he did. He realized that he needed to be careful, however, and not push too hard, lest he spook the other boy. Even though he was almost sure he could see longing in Mikhailo’s eyes, there seemed to be some invisible hand holding him back. Every time Prince Ian was convinced they were finally getting somewhere, Mikhailo would suddenly pull back, as if stung.

Or as if remembering something. Himself, maybe.

Bu then came a cold, clear autumn day almost exactly one year after Prince Ian had been taken to the dragon’s lair.

Whoa, wait, now you’re telling me they’ve been hanging out for one fucking year and they still haven’t banged?

What can I say? Mikhailo’s a pussy.

Whatever. This story is unrealistic as fuck.

Prince Ian and Mikhailo had spent the afternoon together in the garden, as they almost always did whenever Mikhailo wasn’t busy with any of his mysterious chores (which he still refused to tell Prince Ian much about, but which sometimes took him away from the lair for days at a time). Once it started getting dark they went inside and dined on chicken and potatoes from Prince Ian’s patch, and as so often happened they started bickering and play fighting.

If that’s something that happens a lot you might have mentioned it earlier. Established it or whatever. Those mysterious chores too. What’s that all about?

Oh, my bad. Maybe I should start over? Once upon and time—

Nah, man, you’re good. Just a suggestion for next time.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

They were chasing each other around the kitchen when Mikhailo tripped over the muddy shoes he’d lazily left there the night before and fell to the floor.

You know these meaningful little comments ain’t actually clever, right? They don’t actually add anything to the story.

I like them.

Prince Ian, ever chivalrous, grabbed hold of his friend’s arm to break his fall, but ended up going down with him instead, pinning Mikhailo to the floor with his big, strong body.

Fucking finally.

Their eyes met and Prince Ian felt his heart starting to beat faster. He could see a faint blush spreading over Mikhailo’s face. Neither of them spoke; neither of them moved. Then, slowly, slowly, Prince Ian leaned in to brush his lips over Mikhailo’s. Mikhailo lifted his head to meet him in a kiss to end all other kisses, a kiss to inspire a thousand love songs.

Uh-huh, and then…

And then they went to Prince Ian’s room and had sex all night long. But when Prince Ian woke the next morning—

Wait, wait, what? That’s it? “They had sex all night long.” How about some fucking detail, man?

Fine.

After having great sex using lots of good lube all night long, Prince Ian woke up alone in his bed.

I hate you.

He went in search of Mikhailo but couldn’t find his friend anywhere. He looked in the garden and in the kitchen and he went to the sad little cellar chamber Mikhailo called his room even though Prince Ian had never actually seen him sleep there.

Because he’s the dragon and sleeps in the tower chamber. Great hint, Gallagher. Real subtle.

Fuck off.

A week passed and Prince Ian was starting to suspect that Mikhailo was gone for good this time. Perhaps the dragon had found out about their tryst and had sent him away? Or maybe Mikhailo was disgusted with what had happened and wanted nothing more to do with the prince? Prince Ian wondered and worried and feared, and when finally Mikhailo returned, stepping into the kitchen like nothing had happened, Prince Ian was so exhausted with terror and regret that his relief immediately transformed into fury.

He yelled at Mikhailo, called him names and demanded to know where he’d been. He named him a coward and—

…

Hey, what’s the matter? You okay?

Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m fine.

You don’t look— Listen, Prince Ian’s just being an asshole, okay? He saying a bunch of stupid shit ‘cause he’s sick and tired of not knowing if he means as much to Mikhailo as Mickhailo means to him. He doesn’t mean it.

…

Mick?

I mean… He probably means it a little. He’s not wrong.

No, he’s— Fine. He means it a little right then. But he is wrong, okay? He doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Mikhailo, but he’ll get it later. He’ll know he wasn’t being really fair.

… yeah?

Yeah. Okay?

Okay.

Great. Maybe we should speed this bit up a little—

Once Prince Ian had finished shouting, Mikhailo just stared at him for a long moment.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” he spat, and then he spun around and disappeared through the door.

Prince Ian was immediately overcome with regret, yet he was still too angry and hurt and stubborn to run after the other. He went about his day in a very foul mood and when he went to bed that night Mikhailo was still gone. Prince Ian slept fitfully and in the middle of the night he woke to a loud crash, soon followed by several more. He realized it must have come form the tower chamber and after a moment of hesitation he grabbed his nightgown and rushed up the stairs.

So, he brought a nightgown with him when he thought the dragon was going to kill him?

Of course not. He found it in one of the rooms.

Yeah, okay, but why are there so many rooms in this fucking lair anyway? What’s with all the old stuff there? Didn’t the dragon build the place to live in like right before Prince Ian was sent there?

Mickey. It’s getting late and I’d really love to wrap this up and go to bed. It doesn’t really matter about the rooms. Can I just continue with the story?

Whatever, man. Just thought you should know there’s a bunch of plot holes in your little fairy tale.

Once he reached the door to the forbidden room, the crashing noises had stopped. Instead, Prince Ian heard whimpers and moaning, as if from someone in great pain. It could only be the dragon – something must be wrong with it.

Yeah, ya think, Sherlock?

Prince Ian knocked on the door. There was no reply, other than more whimpers and moans. Steeling himself, he tried the handle. The door was unlocked.

That’s awfully convenient.

Stepping inside, Prince Ian found the dragon on the floor. It was clearly hurt, for there was dark blood pooling underneath it. As Prince Ian entered, the great beast lifted its head but said nothing and made no move to attack him. It seemed it was too badly hurt to pose any threat.

It occurred to Prince Ian that he could kill the dragon. He could go down to the kitchen and fetch the biggest knife there and then he’d be free and he could go back to the castle and his siblings and—

The dragon made a low, pained sound and let its head fall back to the floor, closing its eyes.

Prince Ian went down the stairs, but he didn’t fetch a knife, he fetched bandages instead. Though part of him cursed himself for a fool, he knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill the dragon, monster or not, and couldn’t bring himself to let it bleed to death either.

That’s a huge fucking mistake. Maybe the dragon never hurt him but it still kept him imprisoned. Prince Ian should be getting the hell out of there when he has the chance.

Hmm, yeah. Choosing to be locked up just to be the person you love does sound like a pretty insane thing to do.

Oh, fuck off. That’s totally different.

Sure, Mick.

By the time Prince Ian returned to the tower the dragon had lost consciousness. The prince set to cleaning and bandaging his wounds, having learned the art of it while training with a medical witch who lived at the castle. It took a great long while; the dragon was large and heavy and the cuts in its side long, if shallow. But Prince Ian was nothing if not determined and eventually he had the beast wrapped up.

As Ian moved to rise, the dragon stirred.

“The hell are you doing?” it muttered, blinking up at Ian. Then it spotted the bandages, and the ice blue eyes widened. “What the— Are you fucking insane? This is a... is a… real bad fucking idea… ”

It sounded… strange, and not just from the pain and blood loss, Prince Ian thought. Sounded not just slurred but softer somehow, in spite of the uncharacteristic cursing; sounded almost familiar; sounded like—

“Mikhailo,” Prince Ian whispered.

Ooooh, big surprise! I’m so shocked right now!

You know there are other uses for plot twists than to shock the reader, right? Or actually, I guess you don’t know, but if you picked up a book once in a while—

Yeah, yeah, whatever. What happened after this great and totally unexpected reveal?

The dragon lost consciousness again so Prince Ian went to bed and slept soundly and when he woke the next day he spotted Mikhailo leaning against the wall of his room, looking tired ad unhappy. He was even paler than usually and there was a stiffness to his posture that suggested quite a bit of pain, but other than that he seemed well enough.

“So,” Prince Ian said, trying for casualness as he sat up on his pallet. “You’re a dragon.”

Mikhailo shrugged. “Seems like it.”

“But only by night.”

“Yeah… We turn when the sun sets, and turn back again when it rises.”

“I didn’t know that about dragons.”

“No one around here fucking does. People realize how helpless we are during the day, they’d kill us in a heartbeat. My dad says— “

“Your dad?”

“The leader of the dragons. The really big, white one? This whole terror and extortion thing was his idea, once he realized that no one in this kingdom has a clue about dragons.”

“Oh.”

“He hates humans. Thinks they’re useless and weak. If he knew I kept you around instead of killing you, he’d have murdered us both.”

Jesus fucking Christ, laying it on a bit thick with the metaphysical shit there, don’t ya think?

You mean metaphorical?

I mean it’s fucking stupid, that’s what I mean.

Might be closer to allegory anyway.

Uh-huh. Nobody fucking cares, Shakespeare.

“So, anyway,” Mikhailo continued, “you should probably try to go as far away from here as possible. Find a ship and go across the sea or something.”

Prince Ian blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, man, you won’t be able to go back to your castle. No way to stay hidden there. I know this guy up in Dikno, he might—”

He fell silent as Prince Ian jumped up from the bed and crossed the space between them in two long strides, and then he gasped loudly as the prince’s lips found his.

It was another one to inspire love songs.

“You idiot,” Prince Ian said fondly when eventually they broke apart. “Of course I’m not going anywhere. Unless,” he added, suddenly shy, “you want me to.”

Mikhailo made a face. “No, you fucking moron, I don’t want you to go,” he finally said. “But my dad—”

“We’ll find a way to deal with him. We’ll figure out how to sort it out and set things right between humans and dragons. We’ll find a way, together. Okay?”

And Mikhailo the dragon looked at his prince for a long moment and then he smiled. “Okay.”

At his prince, huh. Surprised you got room for all those big words in your head when your ego’s taking up so much space. All right, then what happened?

They organized a rebellion against the leader of the dragons, I guess. I don’t really know. That’s another story.

What do you mean, another story? Is this it? You spend all that time setting it up but when you get to the good part with the fighting you just stop?

Yeah, it’s getting really late. Kid’s asleep anyway.

Kid’s been out cold since, like, before the dragons even showed up, man, don’t fucking pretend this story was for her. … you really not gonna continue?

Nah, I’ll continue. But for the next scene I figured we might try a little show, don’t tell…

Oh, really? What’s the next scene?

Make-up sex. Prince Ian fucking Mikhailo’s brains out. And hey, spoiler alert: Mikhailo comes four times.

Four times, huh.

Yeah. So… wanna know how it happens?

Okay.

Okay. It starts like this—

---

So, yeah. There we have it. The things we write for Gallavich Week… XD

I am halfway outraged that this is the longest fic I’ve ever written for Gallavich, but I’m rather pleased I managed to write something for this theme! Guess I’ll go to bed both proud and embarrassed and dead tired tonight. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Where I am, we’re half an hour past midnight, but seeing as it’s still Monday somewhere, I have decided that I’m posting on time. Yay me! @gallavichthings

#gallavich #gallavich week 2021 #gw2021 #fic #what have i done #my stuff

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tedturneriscrazy · 3 years ago

Text

Here's Eclipse Lake, an episode that has been highly anticipated! Will it top Knock, Knock, Knockin' On Hooty's Door?

I'll skip the pretense: No. It won't.

You'll see under the cut.

Hmm, that list of ingredients for the Grimwalker...I'll let other people theorize about this (like @sepublic ), but it sure looks like a thing

Guess the mysterious green goo won't cut it, huh?

Belos face reveal already?! Huh, didn't expect it so soon.

Oh, no, he's hot! (And I'm mad about it)

Still an ass, though

Now we know why Hunter was wearing a different outfit (because people fixated on that for some reason)

Amity with the clipboard gives me strong Dipper vibes

GHOST! My beloved!

I need a moment because CAT!

(Also, someone pointed out earlier that Ghost was based on Dana's cat, and that's super obvious in hindsight)

Raine?! Oh, wait, you mean rain. Sigh.

Eda gets training tips from DBZ confirmed

(Also Amity's face when reacting to Eda's explanation is priceless)

Oh God Eda's a weeb I need another moment

Damn, Amity just straight up calling Eda old

Oh, loopy Luz

(The abomination holding the tissue box is adorable for many reasons)

Yeah, don't want Luz to eat the McGuffin

I have several questions about those Tamagotchis that I'll refrain from listing here

Amity your Odalia is showing

Girlfriend counter: 1

(Yes I am introducing a counting gag, deal with it)

Was wondering if they were ever gonna reference the dissection incident. We've come a long way, baby!

Oh, so that's what everyone was looking at

Luz honey your enthusiasm is admirable but no

Luz burrito is quite cute, though

Girlfriend counter: 2

(Damn, still wild to think that that's the case)

Just occurred to me that "Boots" is probably shortened from "Bossyboots" from earlier

Guess the Luz hiss compilation needs to be updated again

Those tunnels ain't the only thing around here that's unstable, amirite?

Oops, guess Kiki was justified, after all

Maybe don't talk so loudly about your plans, dude

That is her son, get it right!

Serves you right for having that stupid strand of hair sticking out like that

Is this just the episode where everyone dunks on White Boy? Because I can totally get behind that.

Already mentioned this, but I am loving the parallels between Katara and Amity with that bottle of abomination goo. Insert obligatory "Two Nickels" meme here about Mae Whitman.

We really are just dunking on the white boy and I am living for it

Hooty had to get it from somewhere, I suppose

Nothing says mother-son bonding like shooting things at each other (see also: Separate Tides)

I'm sure the magic bouncing off the veins won't come into play later at all

Oh well, at least the echolocation looked cool

At this point Amity would kill Hunter for a Klondike bar

Wait why does Hooty need a chair

Willow with the galaxy brain ideas

"A bad but sad boy" Luz is a genius at succinctly summing people up

Kikimora continues to be unhinged. Ironically she's not wrong about Hunter.

Motherfucker stop acting like you know what that says

(Also, projecting much?)

Girlfriend counter: 3

Friendly reminder that Hunter is still an antagonist

Uh oh

UH OH

I know someone mentioned Willow having the brain cell, but honestly it seemed like Luz had it this whole time. And that's not good.

WHY IS FOOL'S BLOOD EVEN A THING

Aaaaand cue the getting screwed over

Further reminder that he's still an antagonist (Apparently there's a vocal segment who's Really Mad at him that seem to forget this fact)

You unhand Ghost right now!! And Amity too, I guess.

(I kid, she's literally my second favorite character)

For what she did to Raine it warms my heart to know Kiki has had zero peace of mind

Wait, the Abomatons are Transformers?! Okay, that's kind of awesome, actually. Alador might be a shit dad but he is a brilliant inventor.

Chucking kids off cliffs is a surpisingly common pastime in the Boiling Isles

Owlbert no!

Eda did spend literal decades fighting the Owl Beast within, so I guess she can't be blamed for not thinking to talk to it

Also hurry up guys I'm very concerned about Owlbert

Fuck yeah Harpy Milf!

Yay Ghost returns!

She's glad they're okay (I didn't need to take this, I just thought it was cute. Also this is surprisingly high quality considering I just took a photo of my TV screen)

Oh, so they do have video games in the Demon Realm. That or Luz introduced them.

Trailer shot!

Oh dear, we about to have a fight over the key

Wow, being so high ranking under Belos is really bad for mental health

Jesus Christ Belos what have you been putting in this poor kid's head?

Leave it to King to give radical recontextualizations

Amity, I'm glad you remembered/realized this about Luz, please don't let the sad white boy play you like that again

Also, I appreciate the gesture you're making, and it's a wonderful summary of your character development, but goddamnit he's gonna go for that key because he's STILL AN ANTAGONIST

"Being nice usually works for Luz!" A) Not always, and B) Amity I love you but Luz you are not. A valiant attempt nonetheless.

Ooh, cool fight scene!

Always lovely to see such superb animation

I was privately griping about not seeing Amity use magic for so long, and now I am fed

Don't think I didn't hear the glass breaking

Appreciate your ass from a hole in the ground, Golden Boy!

(jk I don't actually feel that strongly about him still. That kind of threat still isn't cool, though)

Oh so that's why it's the Common Mold!

It's kinda cute, actually. Or maybe it's just because it's Luz.

TIL Hooty is heat resistant

Apparently Owl Beast just wanted a snack

Girlfriend counter: 4

Also love how calling Amity her awesome girlfriend is literally the first thing Luz says to her upon returning.

Yesssss return the hug! You deserve it!

(I know there are higher quality versions of this screenshot, I just didn't feel like looking around)

King demands huggies, too! (And gets 'em)

Reminder that Amity is smart as hell. I knew that glass breaking indicated something!

So once again I've been had. I let the fandom trick me into thinking this episode would be way more intense. Guess that one screenshot was from the next episode.

Overall this was...fine. Some nice Lumity moments, Harpy Eda strutting her stuff, that gorgeously animated fight sequence; those were all lovely.

I do wish Willow and Gus had a bit more to do. And I'm still rather unenthusiastic about Hunter, to be honest. I've seen his type several times before, and the path they have for him is rather obvious. I may never share the fandom's love for him, and I guess I'll have to deal with that.

Anybody who says this was better than KKKOHD is a damn fool.

Mid season finale next week! I think Yesterday's Lie will finally bring the pain!

#the owl house #amity blight #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #toh hooty #willow park #gus porter #emperor belos #toh hunter #toh ghost #kikimora #toh s2 spoilers #the owl house s2 spoilers #the owl house season 2 spoilers #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers

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nobodylivesson · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Boy(Pt.2)

Fandom : Marvel

Pairing : Peter Parker x Top! Male Reader

Requested? No

-Previous/Next-

»»————>❃<————««

The incident after that spread through the whole school like a wildfire and everyone were either dumbfounded or fascinated by this but one thing they all decided was that won’t fuck with [Y/N] or his friends.

Flash also started to avoid [Y/N] like a plague.

It was so interesting and shocking to see the all arrogant Flash Thompson to meekly reply back to [Y/N].And everyone else can definitely see how much [Y/N] enjoyed seeing this while face which didn’t seem to hide his smirk.

“You purposely greet him in the corridor every morning right?” MJ asked [Y/N] during lunch causing the male to smirk

“Well it’s so fun watching him squirm under the pressure.My father did got a call from someone trying to apologize but I told him to ignore it~ I’m sure this might have caused Flash to have a very very good talk with his parents~” [Y/N] said with a chuckle

“You are a total sadist” MJ said with an unbelievable look in her eyes but [Y/N] just chuckles before saying “It’s not being called sadist but bringing arrogant filled assholes who think they are the kings to their right place”

“That a very specific line,you have done this kind of stuff before?” Peter says with a chuckle and [Y/N] smiles a little.He really likes seeing Peter smile it just has an effect on him every since he saw it the first time

“Well it seems I’m a really good magnet for assholes but I don’t mind being a sadist just for you if you want Pete” [Y/N] says before bringing out his accent to the last part and ah,how much he enjoys seeing Peter going all red over this face,neck and ears

“WHA-WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!Don’t joke about stuff like that!!Le-let’s go Ned!!” Peter says as his face burns like fire and Ned also quickly gets up before hurriedly saying “By-bye MJ!!You to [Y/N]!!”

Both of the said people waved back while [Y/N] had a teasing grin which Peter surely saw as he seemingly picked up his pace and quickly went out the room while Ned ran after him telling him to slow down

[Y/N] chuckles as he watches this when he sees MJ looking at him with narrowed eyes so says with a confused look “What?”

“Stop teasing Peter we know what you tow are but you don’t need to tease him like that ” MJ says with a sigh to which [Y/N] with a closed eyes smile while crossing his legs and keeping his left hand on his mouth “I don’t know what you mean by knowing “what we two are” but you don’t how much I just love seeing his ears turn all red and he has this cute habit of shuttering and playing with his hands when he is very embarrassed”

[Y/N] opened his eyes and his eyes lingered towards the place where Peter once sat and he just couldn’t help but chuckle more

“Sigh,you don’t need to hide it from us and you don’t understand,Peter is to innocent unlike you” MJ said

“What the fuck are you talking about MJ?Say it clearly cause I really don’t know what you meant by ‘tow of us’” [Y/N] says with a frown as he started to get annoyed now

MJ opens her mouth but after observing [Y/N]’s face shut it with widen eyes

“No actually forget about whatever I said” MJ says while closing his book and getting ready to go from there as she tried not to make eye contact with him

[Y/N] keeps his eyes on her before saying with a shrug “Okay then whatever the fuck that was,I’m outta here.Not in the mood to attend anymore classes today” his annoyance lacing in his voice and he then just took his stuff before going away from there without saying goodbye for MJ

MJ looks at his walking figure of [Y/N] and thinks “Oh god,don’t tell me-No way.I just hope this doesn’t bring any trouble to us” before sighing

»»————>❃<————««

[Y/N] was annoyed for sure

“What the hell is wrong with MJ?? First she asking me about something between me & Pete and then she refuses to say what it is.I know it’s kinda low to tease Peter but he isn’t even gay so what’s the harm and can’t she tell me her reason of being annoyed by it.I just find finding messing with Peter very interesting......” [Y/N] angrily mumbled before he trailed of as he watched the lights of the different buildings in New York turn on

After getting annoyed,[Y/N] decided to ditch school and after searching the city for a while(also with help of the information Peter gave him),he found out a building whose rooftop he could go into without any problems.The building also gave a very decent view of the city

So what better way to blow of some stream than than sorting your thoughts out in front of this beautiful view

So [Y/N] sits at the roof while looking at New York while he started to slowly sort his thoughts one by one

Along with Peter and MJ,[Y/N] mind has been filled with father along with..........his mother and the secret between them

“No need to wreck my brain with school problems,the old man is again eating my head about giving some thoughts to becoming his successor.But I have already told him enough times that I’m not interested in it and that he can find someone more suitable,damn it!Then those bastards had put me in their club performance again without telling me.Maybe I should really have a talk with them.And then eomma’s date is also coming..........Sigh,guess I have to l look after appa and give Mr.Sung a break” [Y/N] thinks with a frown

Mr.Sung was [Y/N] dad’s personal secretary but in the boy’s eyes he looked more like a personal babysitter

[Y/N] was so invested in his thoughts that he didn’t heard the sound of someone slinging to his spot and was really startled when a voice suddenly said “Wasn’t expecting someone here”

[Y/N] looked behind to see a very curious sight of a guy in a red and blue latex suit which also had a black spider logo in his chest.He was also wearing a red mask with white eyes

“Who is this guy?Wait is he-” [Y/N] who was confused at first suddenly realized before saying “Are you The Spider-man?” with a curious voice

“The one and only neighborhood hero at you service.You must be new here,I haven’t saw you before around the city” Spider-man says while taking a seat beside [Y/N] after making sure he was okay with it

[Y/N] chuckles before looking at the hero while leaning back as a smirk adored his face and said “I don’t think you need to know everyone who goes out and in of the town.It seems to much of a work to be added after the amount of work you do”

Spider-man chuckles like he was embarrassed as he says “But as a hero I should remember people of the city I’m trying to protect.And you seemed very familiar with the city to be able find this place.So I thought how I never saw you around as someone like you......really leave a impression”

[Y/N] blinks a little before ends up laughing and puts his index finger under the mask face of the hero making him look towards [Y/N] as he brings his face close to the hero’s

“I didn’t knew that Spider-man thought I was so impressive.I’m happy that the neighborhood hero is saying these kind of things so openly.I like people like those” [Y/N] says while licking his lips making the hero immediately pull back

[Y/N] for some reason felt that the hero would be blushing like crazy and he wanted to just rip of that mask but decided to not do something so stupid

“Y-you shouldn’t tease people like that!A-and I asked to forget but who told you about me?” Spider-man says as he tries to move the conversation to something else

[Y/N] laughs but complies “Well as you had said earlier,I’m not from here and had just moved here along with my dad.And so someone who I’m close with showed me around the city.So then he told me about this new hero who had emerged.It was also because of him that I was able to catch sight of this place.I’m very grateful of him when he showed me around the city and also being a great friend”

“He seems like a good friend” the spider hero quietly says and leans closer to the Asian boy as if expecting some kind of answer which [Y/N] noticed but decided to slid it off

“Good friend......huh?” [Y/N] mumbles as he looks towards the city before with a smile says “I guess so or maybe a little bit more”

Spider-man immediately goes back and in a shuttering voice says “I-I s-see.Al-also shouldn’t you be telling all this stuff so easily?We just meet today”

“My friend told great stuff about you and I believe him,so there’s no need for me to be wary of you” [Y/N] casually says as he goes through his contacts to message Mr.Sung to pick him up later

“I-I see” the hero replies and a silence falls between these two

“I wanted to ask this earlier but don’t you have other important things to do than talk with a teenager?” [Y/N] finally asks with a questioning look making the hero look at him

“Well I had a break and was just looking over the city when I saw you.You looked very concerned and so just wanted to make sure you were alright” Spider-man says making [Y/N] chuckle

“Well some shit has been going on so I was just thinking on how to sort them out” [Y/N] says to which the hero quietly says “Well if you want you can talk with me about it”

“No it’s fine.It’s not that important to involve someone like you to this” [Y/N] says while closing his eyes making the hero quietly look at the boy

“Well then how about your friend?If you trust your friend,I’m sure he would be happy to talk and listen to you.That’s what friends are for” the hero says making [Y/N] look at him with an unreadable look

But before the hero could say anything [Y/N] started to laugh loudly making Spider-man surprised

“Thanks so much.I guess I need something like that.I will see if I want to tell him about it.I guess you are a hero in all sense” [Y/N] says with a grin to which Spider-man replies “Glad could help you”

But Spider-man couldn’t stay anymore as he hear loud noise from a distance making both [Y/N] and the hero look towards that direction

“Looks like duty calls” Spider-man says to which [Y/N] says “I guess I should also get going”

“Well if you ever need a shoulder to cry,a ear to listen and a mouth to talk to.I’m always there” Spider-man says making [Y/N] laugh which confused the hero

“You remind me of that friend for some reason.The way you act,your voice and also you........never mind I might be wrong as well” [Y/N] says with a shrug when he sees the hero becoming a little stiff before relaxing

“Hahaha,don’t joke like that.Well see ya” Spider-man says before saluting towards [Y/N]

The hero then jump from the roof with a flip and then slings toward the direction those noises came from as [Y/N] looked at the retreating figure of the hero

“Well,that was unbelievable.Just meet Spider-man and even though it was odd,he really reminded me of Peter.Well,eh how would be possible?Am I going out of shape these days for slacking at my practice?Guess have to start following my routine again.And talk with my friends,huh?” [Y/N] thinks before looking at the sky which was dark now

»»————>❃<————««

Peter leaned against the wall of the building as he could hear loud booming noise from inside.He just couldn’t believe he agreed to come to this kind of place all for [Y/N]

“Hey Pete!So I have a performance at this club with a bunch of people I know.Don’t worry I would make sure ya don’t drink anything unnecessary and you are safe.The only problem is that Ned and MJ won’t be able to come due to some other stuff,so you up for it?” was all [Y/N] had to say to Peter before the boy with a blush on hi face agreed

Now here he was waiting for that handsome-he meant good looking friend of his!!

Peter just couldn’t help but have a blush creep onto his face for the unknown time just from thinking about [Y/N]

He was really to deep into this thing and he just remembers the conversation he had with Ned and MJ during [Y/N]’s absence

“Dude I think you are being very obvious there” Ned says making Peter ssh him

“Quiet it down Ned!I’m sure if [Y/N] were to see my face he would make more fun of it!An-and I don’t know why I’m like this around him!!” Peter whisper shouts as they make their way towards their next class

But then he sees Ned making an are-you-serious face before saying “I couldn’t believe mate!!You don’t know why?!Me and MJ thought you knew the reason” making Peter stop in his tracks

“Y-you and MJ know my reason of being like this?!!” Peter says with widen eyes before putting his hands on Ned’s shoulder and started shake him

“Come on Ned tell me the reason why” Peter says while still shaking Ned who says “A-ah st-stop sha-shaking m-me first!” before finally breaking free from his grip

“Mate,that was really unnecessary but I don’t know if I should tell this...” Ned didn’t continue when he sees MJ coming towards them making him jump before saying “Great!!MJ is here and [Y/N] is not with her!!Let’s hear this from her yourself!MJ comes here!!”

MJ notices how frantically Ned was calling her so she goes towards them before saying “What are you two idiots-” but couldn’t complete when Ned says “Peter doesn’t realizes what he feels towards [Y/N]”

A long pause came between them but before MJ sighs and says “To the library right now” as she starts walking while Ned drags Peter towards it,their class long forgotten

“I can’t believe both of you’re so dense” MJ immediately starts after they had gotten a area good for private talk

“Why are you scolding me??I just don’t know okay!” Peter hissed to which MJ sighs

“Have you told [Y/N] about you being bisexual?” MJ asks first making Peter widen his eyes before mumbling “No,I didn’t get the right moment to....”

But both Ned and MJ heard it loud and clear so making both just sigh more

“Oh Pete,we both thought you two already became a thing and that’s why so much flirting.We didn’t knew you two were still in the pinning stage” Ned says making Peter choke at air

“WHAT?!!” Peter shouts while standing up only to be sushed by the librarian making him sit down with an embarrassed face

“I meant,what the hell are you thinking about?!Just cause I’m Bisexual doesn’t mean I would have a crush on him!I mean yeah I find him attractive and yeah he is kinda cool when he fights of bullies like a hero.But that’s not gay just friendship.I don’t think his accented voice making me hot is strange cause like who doesn’t get tat way after hearing his voice?Btw I once saw how his veins in the hands were bulging up during gym and that was sexy.But I think his laugh is really cute and contrasting compared to his other stuff-” Peter who started to ramble about [Y/N] immediately stopped and looked at his friends to see MJ with a ‘I told ya’ look while Ned just blushed with wide eyes as if he was talking about him

“That’s actually very gay kid” the librarian who came near them to stack a self was listening to all this,says nonchalantly before walking back towards his desk

Peter’s face just burns the deepest red color possible before he buries his face in his hands as a muffled “I know that was very much gay and shows how much I have a crush on him so I hope the earth swallows me up”

But his friends heard it and MJ says “Before that don’t forget to confess your passionate love to him” making Peter groan more

“But mate isn’t it better than?You seem to have more chance with [Y/N] compared to Liz since [Y/N] flirts with you every time he can” Ned says trying to be helpful

“Ned he just does it just cause of his nature and-and someone like him won’t like a nerd like me!!” Peter says while waving his hands around in the air out of frustration

MJ scoffs at this before saying “He may be a playboy but not towards you Peter.Why do you think we thought you two were a couple.He treats you different than others,it’s quiet evident.Just that [Y/N] himself hasn’t realized it.So don’t be a coward and go with this cause we two don’t want to see this stupid unrealized pining between you two anymore”

Peter blushes and peaks between his fingers before asking “Where is [Y/N]?Wasn’t he with you?”

MJ seemed surprised and thinks a little before saying “It seemed something came up which annoyed [Y/N] so he said he would ditch the rest of the classes” deciding it was good to hide her conversation with [Y/N]

“Oh...I see” Peter getting a little worried and thought he would check on [Y/N] later

“Well leaving that aside,don’t be a fool and just go for it Peter” MJ says with an encouraging smile to which Ned nodded before smiling as well

Peter smiled as his thoughts of yesterday’s conversation but he seemed to have not noticed the boy coming towards him

“Hey Pete” a deep Asian ascent suddenly says in front of him making Peter jump back a little out of shock only to see it was [Y/N] who was chuckling at is reaction

And damn,[Y/N] just looked to hot.He was wearing a low v-cut half sleeve red shirt which gave a sneak peek of his toned chest,finger less black gloves,a black trouser and black combat boots.His neck had three necklaces with them being a cross,a razor and a wire looking one,as he could spot ‘Hell’ tattooed between his collar bones.At last he wore black round retro glasses as a cigarette was between his lips

He looked to hot to be legal to Peter and he could prove it as girls along with boys who were walking pass them definitely looked back once at [Y/N] with blush or if they were bold with lust filled eyes

Not minding them at all,[Y/N] flicked his cigarette towards the side before saying “That jump was really cute and did you wait long?” with a smile

Peter feels his cheeks already getting a little hot before saying “I-I was surprised okay?!And no I didn’t wait long but where are you coming from,dressed like that?” stressing a little bit to much at ‘that’

[Y/N] smirks before asking “Like what you see?” making Peter blush more and looks towards the side causing [Y/N] to laugh

“Ehh went out with some friends of mine on my bike before quickly came here cause didn’t wanted to make you wait long.So ready to go inside?” [Y/N] says while pointing at his cool looking bike(Peter thought was just perfect for [Y/N]) before a playful smile

“I have never been this kind of place [Y/N] so I’m kinda nervous and if Aunt May were to find out about this,I would be dead” Peter mumbles nervously to which [Y/N] chuckles

“Don’t worry Pete.You are going inside under my name,so nobody’s gonna do anything and I would make sure of it along with Aunt May not finding out about it.So just trust me” [Y/N] says with serious eyes now his ascent coming out in the ‘So just trust me’ making Peter suck in some air as his blush seemed to intensify

“Okay,I trust you” Peter finally says and the answer seems to satisfy [Y/N] who smiles before saying “Great,let’s go~”

»»————>❃<————««

True to [Y/N]’s words,nobody came near Peter,he wasn't asked if he wanted alcohol or tried to talk with him in general and Peter was give a place where the stage was totally clear

Peter nervously watched as [Y/N] performance was gonna start any minute and he didn’t knew what to expect

“I heard Foxy was going to perform today” Peter hears and see two girls whispering to which the other girl replied “Yes~Oh how I wished he would sent the night with me but too bad he is gay.I also heard today he came here with another boy!”

“They couldn’t be talking about-” Peter couldn’t finish his thoughts when the lights of the room dimmed before all focused on a the stage as a man came to the stage

“I know you all already heard it but without any further wait let’s welcome today’s special appearance of Foxy with his collab performance with our favorite group Leviathan!!And today they are gonna perform their original ‘Take me to cruch’” the man said and the whole crowd cheered loudly

The curtains of the stage raised and Peter widened his eyes to see [Y/N] sitting behind a drum set which a fox logo drawn in it as some other people with instruments stand on both his sides

My lover's got humor He's the giggle at a funeral Knows everybody's disapproval

“Ehh,Foxy was [Y/N]’s stage name?B-but leaving that aside [Y/N] can sing so nicely along with being able to play the drums?!How much more perfect can he be??” Peter thought as he heard [Y/N]’s accented english through this speaker with a blush on his face.He tuned out all the other’s voices so he can give all his attention towards [Y/N]

I should've worshiped him sooner If the heavens ever did speak He's the last true mouthpiece Every Sunday's getting more bleak A fresh poison each week "We were born sick" You heard them say it My church offers no absolutes He tells me "Worship in the bedroom" The only Heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well

[Y/N] finally started to play the drum and people just swayed like it was a concert with this phone flashlight on

Aaa, Amen, Amen, Amen

[Y/N] looked towards the crowd and immediately his eyes made contact with Peter who just felt his body on fire under his gaze

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

[Y/N] kept his gaze on Peter and Peter felt as though the song was being dedicated to him.He thought that was a very stupid imagination,making Peter break his contact with [Y/N] as he looked towards the ground

Yet when he again looked up and saw [Y/N] still looking towards him,he felt a tiny bit of himself believing that maybe it could be dedicated to him.”I mean it isn’t a crime to imagine stuff like that” Peter thought as he again made contact with [Y/N]’s deep black eyes

If I'm a pagan of the good times My lover's the sunlight To keep the god on my side He demands a sacrifice Drain the whole sea Get something shiny Something meaty for the main course That's a fine looking high horse What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful That looks tasty That looks plenty This is hungry work

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene Only then I am human Only then I am clean

Oh, oh Amen, Amen, Amen

The moment [Y/N] hit the line,people went crazy and started to sing along for what seemed as the last part of the song

The entire roared up in people’s shouting and screams which Peter thought was the right thing to do for the performance was crazy and awesome

He was happy he could record that whole thing

But then as he saw how [Y/N] bumped fist with the other people on stage with a smirk,he remembered what MJ told his causing a blush to form at this face

“O-okay Peter!!Y-you are going t-to do this!!You are g-going to co-confess to [Y/N]!” Peter thought inside him before he decided to look for [Y/N]

But sadly [Y/N] seemed to have gone down the stage so picking up his courage,Peter went inside the crowd to look for him

Peter looked aimlessly among the crowd and luckily nobody bothered to stop him

It was tough to go around these sea of kind of drunk bodies without gaining much attention but it was fine with some work all thanks to Peter’s senses

Peter made to near the stage and felt a smile came to his face when he started to see [Y/N] standing near the stage

But as Peter was about to reach [Y/N] felt his breathing stop at the sight in front of him

[Y/N] was leaning against the wall as another shorter boy was leaning on his chest while [Y/N]’s hands were wrapped around the shorter boy’s waist

Peter felt his heart never run as fast as he was feeling now and he definitely stopped breathing when he saw [Y/N] kissing the shorter boy

Peter just stood there as he saw his crush smooch some unknown guy in the club and he freaking didn’t knew what to do

He just wanted to get out of the club but to his misery [Y/N] moves his eyes and low & behold,he made eye contact with Peter

“Peter?” [Y/N] says immediately stopping his kissing session and that prompt was all it took for Peter to start running from that place

“Peter!!” [Y/N]’s voice perfectly reached his ears in the loud club and he hates the fact that he could perfectly hear his voice among others

He didn’t stopped to apologize for bumping with people and made a beeline for the exit before rushing out of the club

Tears started to slowly come out of his eyes and he just bit his lower lips to make sure a sob doesn’t comes out of his mouth as he made his way towards hi apartment

“Of course,‘He has a crush on you’ that’s so stupid and dumb..” Peter thought bitterly as his walked towards his apartment

»»————>❃<————««

Eomma - mother and Appa - Father for those who didn’t knew

Hello everyone!! Finally done with the next chapter,wohoo!! It took time and I think this is longer than the last one?I totally didn’t used this chapter to put ‘Take me to church’,totally not!Nah uh!Lol,well jokes aside if you guys haven’t heard Hozier just check him out cause he is an awesome artist.Anyway the next chapter would definitely take time so please stick with me till then and hope you enjoyed this one

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x male reader #x male reader #Avengers #avenger x male reader #avenger imagine

134 notes · View notes

vanillann · 4 years ago

Text

this town (s.w.)

a/n: first ever sam fic and i lowkey really like it

sam wilson x gender neutral reader

word count:

sam wilson masterlist

I dropped my bag in the passager seat as I raced to Sarah’s side, letting my hands grab the box that was slowly slipping from the top of the pile in her hands.

“Oh thank God- (Y/N)!”

I smiled, taking my place beside Sarah as we walked to an open table that had a few men from the docks I remembered from years of coming by.

“You know, gravity is still a thing, and what you were trying to do is damn near impossible,” I placed the box on the table and let my arms wrap around her shoulders tightly.

“Don’t you go talking about impossible, you managed to keep this place in check for five years with no help,” Sarah pulled back, taking my face in her hands while she quickly looked me over. I rolled my eyes but felt the pride swell in my chest.

The five years within the blip was hard, very clearly, but I and two other boat owners managed to keep the place in tack until everyone came back from God knows where.

“I’ve missed you.”

Sarah smiled, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight while it beat down on us in the Louisiana air. It would’ve close to perfect if it wasn’t for the strong scent of fish and men yelling over boats, but it was just like it had always been. My family debating with the Wilson’s over who made better sweet tea while Sam and I would throw sweet potatoes at one another, it wasn’t a fun game but a game nonetheless.

“I’ve missed you more,” Sarah pulled me back once more before the roar of an engine dragged us from our sweet moment. I looked up, seeing the tail lights of a truck I haven’t seen in years flash us as it came down the dirt path.

“Sam’s here?”

“Apparently,” Sarah placed a hand on her hip, her sisterly glare still in tack after all these years as Sam’s truck parked and the door swung open.

I wasn’t prepared to see him in all his ‘superhero’ glory, but I suppose I never would be as his smile was brighter than ever. He hugged an old family friend, his arms wrapping around them like a warm blanket on a cold evening and I wondered how I haven’t thought about him in so long. How had I forgotten his remarks and his checky little laugh?

“There she is!”

I considered running around the tent that had been set up and hiding until I could safely run to my car but I heard one of Sarah’s boys yell out my name and suddenly most eyes were on me.

“There is my favorite boy!”

I leaned down to hug him, I wanted to run and hide but I wasn’t going to ignore him, the price of love.

“(Y/N)?”

I cringed, holding on to the boy in front of me a little tighter before he let go running to his uncle. A goofy smile was on his face as to he almost fell running but Sam only smiled, looking me over once, before his nephew gained his attention.

I could count it outright, make a run for it maybe and never have to see the boy how I almost waited for once he joins the Air Force.

“Will you help me?”

I turned around, an older man struggling with some boxes and he couldn’t move them all. I sighed, walking over with my best smiling and sliding the box with the older man while we made it to his ship. Once we were done he gave me a large smile and handed me a five-dollar bill, when I tried to give it back he refused.

I spun on my heels, frowning when I spotted Sam walking in my direction.

I could’ve made a run for it, I know I could’ve made it.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing, Sam,” his name felt foreign on my tongue, let a broken promise that I refused to speak of, that’s exactly what he was.

“Well, I came to see Sarah!”

He still had the gentle charisma he had as a kid, his goofy bright smile that ran in the family, and his perfect brown eyes you never want to stop looking into.

“Well, great minds think alike,” I rocked back and front, wondering how we went from everything to nothing without barely a letter in between.

“Yeah, yeah I suppose.”

The awkward silence felt like too much as I watched his brows crease and his eye scans me up and down like an unknown force. Is this really what we had become?

“Still living in the farmhouse?”

“No, I got my own place now,” I wondered did I mention it wasn’t far from Sarah’s place so I could help out with the kids, but when his name was being called I decided not to say a word.

“Coming! Are you bust tonight?” Sam’s finger almost hit my chest as he waited, his leg bouncing, for my answer.

“Y-yeah-”

“Great, let’s get dinner!”

I didn’t have time to come up with a sad excuse before he was jogging away, falling into conversation with his sister as if nothing had ever happened to begin with. As if he didn’t asl his high school sweetheart to dinner years later.

I should’ve stayed home.

I walked through the door of the old restaurant, Sam didn’t have to tell me where he wanted to eat as it was ‘our place’ when we were kids. I spotted him in a booth not far from the large window, a dark blue turtle neck that made him look more handsome than I ever remembered him.

I slowly went around tables and chairs, careful not to fall as I found my way to the other side of him. As soon as his head lifted I knew I was done for it, the glitter in his brown eyes and his perfect smile was the same it had always been.

“You came,” his voice was light and airy as he watched me slip in across from him, his hand almost reaching across the table but he stopped and grabbed a napkin instead.

“You know I wouldn’t pass up free food.”

“Who said it was free?”

I felt the laugh boil over, the carefree demeanor r he always had run through me easily as he watched me like old times.

“So, how’s everything been here? I haven’t seen you since,” his words trailed off and we both knew what he was going to say.

The Air Force ripped our relationship apart before we even realized it had even begun, but I suppose it always seems to go that way.

“Been good, the blip was hard on everyone but I managed to pull it off,” I played with a loose thread, my fingers finding safety in the repeating motions.

“Yeah, yeah I get it.”

I was scared the silence would come back, the awkward pain of watching someone who knew me inside and out forget how to even speak to me.

“I order you a lemonade, I know it was always your favorite.”

Suddenly I was in junior year, laughing with Sam about my math grade and the joke Sam made with the football team. How could he do it?

“Still is, I’ve never been good with change.”

“Oh I know, trust me,” he wiggled his eyebrows in my direction as the waitress left the drinks on the table and hurried off, most likely to ask her co-workers if that who she thought it was.

“So, Avenger?”

“Don’t start with him,” he rolled his eyes, the straw stuck between his lips as he gave me a pleading look.

“I thought you were staying in D.C. and suddenly your sister is calling me that you’re on T.V.!”

“When Cap says help, you help,” he set his drink beside mine, his head resting on his shoulder and his eyes burned into my skin.

“I suppose,” I trailed off, smiling when I noticed him smirking under his arm.

“What now?”

“Remember when I told you we have something special?”

I felt like a stuttering mess and I search from the right word, trying to figure out where to go from here. How do I turn back now?

“Yeah, um, freshman year,” I took the straw between my teeth and let the cold lemonade rush down my throat that was suddenly dry.

“I was really bold back them, huh?”

“Yeah, never knew when to shut up,” I smirked with the straw between my lips as he rolled his eyes. Did anything ever change? Was I still ‘his girl’ or was I just a girl?

“I can’t believe you actually agreed, I ran into Sarah’s room after and just talked about you for hours.”

My heart was slamming against my chest, the feeling that I felt as a kid was definitely still there as he smiled at me with this wondrous look in his eye.

“Sarah probably wanted to kill you.”

“Nah, she loved it when I gushed about you. Called us soulmates,” he shrugged, waiting for me to fill in after but I had no words anymore.

“Too bad, huh?”

“What’s too bad?” Sam’s arms reached across the table, his fingers inches from mine as he looked up from under his eyelashes at me.

“We weren’t,” I paused, “Soulmates I mean.”

Silence, that’s all I heard as the waitress came back and placed two plates in front of us. I opened my mouth, ready to tell her we hadn’t ordered, but I was left speechless as I looked down at the place.

A plate of Mac and Cheese sat in front of me, just like when Sam would make me when I was sad in high school. He could never make anything else and I never had the heart to tell him I wasn’t a huge fan, but by graduation, it was my comfort food.

“Mac and Cheese?”

The waitress was skipping away, my doubt following her as I looked up to Sam’s face. His eyes were wide as they waited for me, his nerves clear as day.

“I know how much you liked it-”

“I didn’t,” I felt my smile slowly find its way to my lips, “not until you made it for me.”

“Really? You let me make you mac and cheese all that time and you didn’t even like it?’

I shrugged, smiling like a psycho as I waited to find the right words. I wasn’t letting him walk out of this restaurant without me this time.

“You must have really loved me.”

“I do,” I finally looked him directly in the eye, surprise when the gentle sparkle of them made me sink farther into the seat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I grabbed my fork, smiling when his hand laid on top of mine.

“Should’ve told me before I made a fool of myself.”

“You’d still do that somehow.”

Bless this town for bringing him back to me.

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siren-dragon · 3 years ago

Text

After Eight -- The Cat Returns fanfic:

So... I had a Ghibli movie marathon recently and remembered my old childhood OTP of Haru and the Baron. Then I read a few fanfics by @catsafarithewriter and landed in another fandom abyss, lol. And that later spawned this au one-shot from a prompt I read. Anyway, this is my first time publishing anything for another fandom so hopefully it’s good. Enjoy! ^_^

AO3 story link

Human AU -- “I need to finish my term paper and you’re the only 24-hour internet cafe open. Help me.”

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The front door of their small flat closed with a soft click as Haru shrugged her backpack higher onto her shoulder and soon hurried down the corridor and out onto the streets with a determined step. To be fair, Hiromi and Tsuge did try their best to accommodate her as she stared helplessly at her computer screen within her bedroom while they giggled and chatted on the sofa. And though Haru managed to continue through her term paper despite the late hour; her concentration quickly began to wane while the tell-tale sounds of snogging managed to reach her ears despite the closed bedroom doors. So, she rather quickly decided to pack up her supplies and laptop, stuff them into her school bag, and exit the flat in an attempt to find somewhere quiet.

Of course, she didn’t really consider the fact that a) it was 10 in the evening on a Friday and b) she would need wifi if she were going to try and continue her paper.

“There has to be somewhere open…” she groaned, having passed another bar filled with her fellow college students enjoying the beginning of their weekend. “Why are there so many bars everywhere?!”

After traversing the streets for a good 20 minutes, all the while debating if she could chance stealing the wifi from a late-night McDonalds, the brunette soon found herself pausing to stare at the building her feet seemed to have led her to. It was a rather quaint building, reminiscent of European cafes with it’s white and green paint and black sunshade. Written beside the glass and wooden doors was a simple plaque with the words The Cat Bureau scrawled across in dark lettering. However, it was the petite sticker smacked boldly on the corner of one of the windows with a drawing of a cat on a laptop reading “free wifi” that nearly made Haru weep tears of joy.

“Oh, thank God; an internet café!” she beamed with delight before hurrying inside.

If she thought the outside was charming, the interior was spectacular. Alongside the windows were various tables with off-set white tablecloths and a small flower vase as a centerpiece, while opposite sat a wrap-around wooden bar complete with stools. The entire room was bathed in a warm, golden glow from the hanging antique light fixtures and Haru couldn’t help but be captured by the small café. “Wow, this place is beautiful…”

“You are too kind Miss,” an accented voice chimed, causing her to swivel to the source.

Standing behind the countertop was a man, perhaps a few years older than Haru herself, offering her a kind smile with a rag in hand. Though Haru was practically half-asleep due to exhaustion and the creeping energy withdrawals her last study-snack tried to prevent, even she couldn’t deny how attractive the man was. Slightly tousled tawny locks and vivid green eyes stared back at her with an intensity that caused her face to take a distinct pink tint. His attire was a bit formal, what with the crimson vest and collared shirt with a bowtie- though his black apron and rolled sleeves didn’t undercut the professional appearance.

“Erm, I’m sorry- were you closing soon? I can leave if you want. It’s just that I saw you had free wifi and I needed a space where I could finish my term paper…”

The man gave a gentle laugh, “no worries Miss, this is a 24-hour café; stay as long as you like. The Bureau doesn’t often receive customers on Friday evenings, what with many preferring venues that serve alcohol.”

Haru grinned, “you’re a life saver. And this place, I’ve never seen such an amazing café before.”

“Thank you, and please sit wherever you like. Make yourself at home. Is there anything you would perhaps like to order?”

Taking a spot at one of the tables near the window, Haru immediately glanced at the menu resting upon the table, looking over the pamphlet for something cheap that would keep her awake. She was rather impressed by the modest selection- ranging from teas and beverages to cakes, sandwiches, and even a few pastries. “I’ll just have a cup of the house blend tea, please.”

The man smiled, “as you wish.”

If the food wasn’t going to bring her back here, the charming waiter certainly was- though as quickly as the thought crossed her mind Haru prayed her internal feelings didn’t make themselves known with the reddening of her face.

Quickly pulling out her laptop and research materials, in an attempt to finish her work and not stare at the handsome waiter, Haru set to work on trying to finish her paper. The quiet atmosphere gave a rather calm and ideal setting, allowing the brunette student’s work to continue at a steady pace. On occasion Haru would steal a glance to the waiter as he set about making her order, humming a gentle tune under his breath before returning to her paper. It was only when the cup and teapot was set gently beside her did Haru startle from her concentration while another plate- this one bearing a slice of angel food cake with whip cream and strawberries found it’s place beside her tea cup.

“Oh! Um, but I didn’t order-“

“On the house,” the man smoothly replied. “Besides, nothing goes better with tea than some angel food cake.”

Haru giggled, saving her work before closing the laptop and setting it aside for the meanwhile. “Thank you very much.” Pour a dash of milk into the cup, she raised it for a tentative sip and blinked in surprise. “Woah, that’s got to be the best tea I’ve ever tasted.”

“You flatter me with your kind words, Miss.”

“Wait, did you make this from scratch?”

The waiter laughed, “indeed I did. That’s my own personal blend, though it tends to be a little different each time so I’m afraid I can’t guarantee the taste.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than the school’s local Starbucks.” Haru complimented, making the man grin. “Did you make the cake as well?”

“Unfortunately, no. While I am no stranger to the kitchen, that particular cake was made by our resident chef Muta. He has a penchant for sweets which has earned quite a following from the locals.”

“I don’t blame them, if the cakes are as good as the tea- I don’t think I’ll be able to go anywhere else.”

This time the man gave a teasing smirk, “and here I thought it was the free wifi drawing in customers.”

Haru laughed, “well, it certainly did help. I’d take a quiet café with wonderful tea over my small flat and a roommate making out with her boyfriend any day.”

“Well, that certainly would cause a bit of a distraction to a working student. If that’s the case, feel free to stay as long as you like Miss.”

“Haru,” she answered back. “My name, it’s Haru.”

He gave her a soft smile that made Haru’s stomach do nervous flips as bright green eyes met her own warm caramel irises. “Humbert von Gikkingen, at your service but please; call me Baron.”

Now it was Haru’s turn to give a small smirk. “So, Baron… this teapot looks like there is enough for another cup or two. Maybe, you would like to share it?”

This time it was Baron’s turn to flush the faintest pink before giving a rather delighted grin and retrieving another cup from behind the counter and taking the seat across from her. “I would be honored. After all, nothing makes a cup of tea better than sharing it with a rather fetching young woman.”

If Haru’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now- and judging from the slight mirth dancing in Baron’s eyes, the warmth of her face was easy to spot.

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“I didn’t even know we had a 24-hour internet café near the campus.” Hiromi commented in confusion, “must have been nice since you didn’t come back till after midnight.”

“Hey, I was giving you and Tsuge some space so I could work on my paper.”

Hiromi grinned, “uh huh, then why were you frantically typing this morning in an attempt to finish it? Maybe you got distracted on your little night excursion.”

“Yes, by tea and cake.” Haru answered dryly, trying to keep calm and prevent a tell-tale blush to creep up her face. “Trust me Hiromi, you’ll love the place.”

“Alright Haru, I- hey is this the place?”

The two girls stopped in front of the familiar white and green painted café, same black sunshade up though this time there were a few tables set up outside and a few more customers than the previous night. However, this time, a waitress with white-blonde hair and a pink ribbon around her neck was serving customers outside while inside a tall and thin black-haired man clad in the similar formal attire Baron wore yesterday tend to the waiting patrons. Yet she couldn’t hide the small frown at the lack of Baron’s presence, wondering if perhaps he only covered the evening shift.

It was then did she finally hear Hiromi’s laughter, when the chestnut-haired brunette pointed to a sign on the door. “Haru, you did read the sign before you went in this place last night, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

She merely silently pointed to the hours of operation, which clearly stated that the café was only open from 09:00 AM – 10:00 PM, with it opening later in the morning on Sundays. Haru felt her jaw drop slightly as her face turned cherry red while Hiromi merely laughed louder.

Of course, she did get a slight just desserts when the two friends were seated inside and Haru noticed Baron nearly fly out of the kitchen, hastily tying his black apron before catching her gaze. The black-haired waiter was whispering frantically to him while Baron looked to be offering some polite apology. Though when he caught Haru’s eye he couldn’t help the knowing smile on his face while Haru gave a rather sheepish look as he approached the table to take their order.

“Welcome back, Miss Haru. I hope your paper was a success.”

“Yeah, it really was…. Especially after the extra 2 ½ hours I worked on it last night.” She said with an embarrassed groan. “I am so sorry for butting into your café last night. If I knew you were closed I would have left and-“

“Think nothing of it, you needed somewhere to work and I was happy to help.” Baron replied with a kind, though slightly tired smile from the previous evenings unintentional long shift. “Perhaps… I could suggest another cup of our house blend in the name of bygones?”

Haru gave a shy smile, “yes please.”

“Make it two,” Hiromi added. “And whatever pastry you would recommend.”

“Certainly. I shall return momentarily, ladies.”

As Baron returned to the counter, Hiromi waited perhaps 2.1 seconds before whirling upon Haru with a large grin reminiscent of a satisfied shark. “Do you think he’ll write his number on the napkin for you to take home?”

While Haru didn’t make a point of causing scenes in public places, she couldn’t help flicking a sugar cubes at her friend’s laughing face. Though judging from the laughter dancing in Baron’s vibrant emerald eyes and the tint of pink dusting his cheeks, she wouldn’t be complaining if that was the case.

#the cat returns #neko no ongaeshi #haru yoshioka #baron humbert von gikkingen #haru x baron #one shot #human au #cafe au #fanfiction #my writing

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