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chris-continues · 1 year ago

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Unconventional, Unusual, and Unapologetically Yours

Inspired by this text post I made!

In which you enter a relationship with an unfamiliar creature.. yet he’s the sweetest person you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

TAGS: @beanibon @vashfantasy @h4venpha @lune010

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Available on ao3!

NOTES: I cranked this out in like less than an hour I think. Uncanny Vash makes my fingers type like the fucking wind LMAO- ALSO I MIGHT DO PT2 <33 ^^lmk if you don’t want to be tagged! Some people asked and I know others like uncanny Vash a lot, so I thought you’d enjoy. I tried to add a bit of creature Vash as well, please feel free to comment/reblog if you enjoyed! And lmk any ideas you have :D

Your boyfriend deviated from what one would call the standard partner.

Well, not that such a thing was negative. He was by far one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, that much you noted from your first encounter. An abandoned warehouse, where you’d been forced to do an odd job when tight for cash. “Get a photo of the infamous Humanoid Typhoon!”, they said, giving you directions out of town. The warehouse then had appeared nothing short of shady, with its shabby walls, unfamiliar state, and a slight mildewy smell you weren’t too fond of.

That would soon change, becoming your safe haven, as you recalled how you’d met.

Your tentative steps inside, phone flashlight beaming as you explored for a good few minutes before- “Ah!” You jolted, the wide smile of a tall man, startling you. He apologetically waved his hands before you, attempting to reassure you, “Aw god, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s uh, fine, yeah.” You cleared your throat, turning your flashlight down slightly, “Who are you?” “Vash.” He chirped, quite literally. “And you?”, he offered his hand, ever so charming. If you recalled correctly, his pupils dilated a bit too much at the touch of your hand against his.

Humanoid. Not human.

It took you an embarrassingly long time to connect the dots, your attempt to search for the man of the hour futile (or successful, depending on how you viewed it). Searching for any extending corridors, or perhaps a hidden room. His company was originally slightly unsettling, as he was a stranger just tagging along for the ride, but he had no ill intent and with each sweet remark you found your night to not be a complete failure, swearing you’d return next weekend, same time to find the Humanoid Typhoon together.

It turned into a game of stalling.

Searching the same wall as last week, fingers tapping at the eroding wood of the building. His fingertips had brushed yours a handful of times as he blamed it on the darkness, a slight squeak leaving him each time, and maybe it was your fatigue riddled mind but you almost swore a slight glow emanated from him each time.

After the 3rd week of searching you really didn’t care about finding this Typhoon guy anymore, figuring he was just some urban legend. Why did you keep going? For Vash, of course. He was a great listener, funny, and seemed to enjoy your company, and you really enjoyed his, and by god were you absolutely horrendous when it came to romance. So continued your pining of poking and prodding at an abandoned warehouse at the late hours of night. Too nervous to ask for his number (you found out later he didn’t have a phone), too shy to initiate anything further.

Aha, until one night.

Your searching had become less investigative of the building and moreso of each other, legs crossed and sitting in the middle of the warehouse with music playing from your phone on occasion. Discussions ranging from god knows what, each interesting in their own right. What confused you was that something as mundane as you telling a story in which you got your neighbors mail left him at the edge of his seat, but you simply chalked it up as him being a good listener and eager to engage in conversation, (that being partially true). Exhaustion creeped at you one night though, your horrendous sleeping habits having caught up with you as you rested your head against the derelict floorboards and gazed up at the ceilings.

Vash had a habit of humming to fill in silences, and much like the rest of him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to it.. So sue you for being soothed to sleep by such a thing.

He didn’t tell you until much later, but that night he’d let his hand graze the back of yours, feathers peeking from beneath his jacket with the slight bumps ever so comforting against your skin. You let out the cutest hums, rolling just a bit closer to him.

His breath caught in his throat, as he let himself touch your hand just a bit more. His long, inhuman tongue laved over his several rows of sharp, unnatural teeth in a fidgeting motion. His pupils expanded, admiring you. You always appeared a bit nervous or tense around him- of course that diminished over time, he noted, but why were you so nervous? God, he hated being like this sometimes. To be.. A normal human companion of yours was something he found he craved. Every week, waiting for you in this dingy, subpar hiding place..

You were the highlight of his week.

He had to hold himself back from instinctively curling into your side, wrapping his lanky limbs around you and allowing his vertebrae to extend to his full height.. Several feet taller than you. He wants to engulf you whole, keep you forever close and cherish you with chirps you couldn’t possibly understand.

When you awake, he lays beside you. His body is as stiff as the wooden planks lining the warehouse floors, glancing at you as you finally make a move.

You scoot an inch closer.

His breath hitches in his throat.

He can feel a draft making its way through the building,your body shivering as you shift just a bit closer.

“You.. are you cold?” He hesitates, arm stiffening as the fabric of his jacket meets the sleeve of your shirt.

“Yeah, kinda..” You murmur, eyes darting away from him then back to him- god, you could stare at him and never tire of it.

Your arms are pressed against one another, his fingers- wait, they’re uncharacteristically smooth, toying with the end of your sleeve. Oh god. The cutest guy you’ve ever met and he’s- oh god- you’ve dreamt of this more than you’d care to admit, hugging a pillow to sleep most nights, mind drifting to the cute guy you meet every weekend outside of town.

Your fingers graze his once more, breathing pausing once more.

He intertwines his fingers with yours.

You think you’re going to die.

He chirps happily, and with your curiosity getting the better of you, you can’t help but ask, “What’s that noise mean?”

He blinks owlishly, sheepish smile crossing his face, “Oh uh, I don’t know really. It just.. happens?”

“Ah, mhm. That’s fair.”

You peek down to your intertwined hands, only to see-

“Vash?”

His mouth gapes open to speak, and you get another peek of his- oh god, now that it’s morning you can see better.

Rows upon rows of his sharp teeth. His mouth forcibly staying together in one piece rather than three. Unnaturally long limbs. Feathers sprouting from him.

“You.. you’re not human, are you?”

Oh god. He scared you. He’s so ugly, and you’re frozen, backing away slightly- “Oh my god you’re not- are you?”

The Humanoid Typhoon.

“Yeah. I.. I am.”

It takes you a moment to collect your bearings, mouth agape. “You.. you never planned to hurt me, right?” Your eyes are wide, hands in your lap as you now sit up, legs criss crossed.

“God no! Never! Oh god, I'm so sorry.” He buried his face in his hands, hiding it from the peeking rays of sunlight peering through the wood of the warehouse. “I don’t try to hurt anyone really, it just.. happens.” He swallowed thickly, “You can leave, if you’d like. I won’t hold it against you.”

You shake your head adamantly, “No, no I trust you. Just surprised me is all. I’ve never seen anything like it, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Vash.” Your hands fidget within your lap, “I enjoy your company and you not being human won’t change that.”

He peeked at you from his fingers, pupils dilated. “..really?”

You nodded.

He certainly didn’t appear very convinced, but as you offered one of your previously fidgeting hands out to him.. he took it. Hand much larger in yours, inhumanly smooth- you found upon closer inspection he had no fingerprints.

You stayed like that for god knows how long, until you checked your phone, “Shit! I’m sorry Vash, I’ve got to-” Aw god, his face, he was so cute..

“I’ll return soon.”

He walked you to your car parked outside.

Your next few visits were a lot more different. He never directly said it, but before long you started staying the night, pressed close to one another, easing closer and closer to one another with hesitant touches. His eyes pleaded for your company each time you left, a small pout forming on his lips.

You hated leaving him each time.

Your first kiss was sweet, clumsy, and absolutely adorable. Just like him.

He laid atop you, the world’s best weighted blanket, wrapping his unproportionate, lanky limbs around you to pull you flush against him. “I like you Vash. A lot.” You admitted into his hair quietly, shyly kissing the crown of his head. He chirped excitedly, a few clicks escaping him as he shifted to have your eyes meet, lips peppering pecks on your cheeks, jaw, and the corners of your lips.

You both were too nervous to initially confess, just basking in one another’s company.

“Like you too.” A series of inhuman noises escaped him, elated by your flustered giggles.

He almost felt bad for temporarily silencing you with a shy and quick peck to your lips. His eyes widened, before going in for another.

Another, another, another, purring contentedly as he pressed closer to you in hopes to mold you both into one.

Your hands tentatively reached to cradle his face, grinning into the dorky kiss you two shared.

Now though? You glance at him, wrapped in a mini nest you two share atop your bed. He nuzzles into your neck, teeth gently nibbling at the flesh as the rays of morning peek through your bedroom window. His legs hang off the bed with how tall he is, but he couldn’t care less.

Is it unconventional? Sure. Unusual? Most definitely.

But you’ve never been more happy than you have with him.

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just-a-silly-little-whumper · 2 years ago

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Parched

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Lord Denholm endeavors to elicit the first bit of deference from Altair.

Contains: Captivity, restraint, stress position, dehydration, minor delirium, defiant whumpee, intimate whumper, referenced vampire whumper/bloodbag whumpee, referenced noncon, adult language

~~~

For what felt like the thousandth time, Altair licked his lips. As before, the action brought no relief. There wasn’t enough moisture left in his mouth to abate the dryness, it seemed.

He let out a long, slow exhale. He had managed to steal a few fitful hours of sleep, but fatigue still weighed on him. The bent, half-raised position that his arms had been locked into strained his shoulders and cramped his elbows. And the hours he had gone without water were beginning to take their toll. It wasn’t bad yet, but Altair knew it was only a matter of time.

The door slowly swung open, and Altair straightened. The less affected he looked by his time in the dungeons, the better. Lord Denholm’s gaze was appraising as he stepped in, but didn’t give much else away about his thoughts.

“It occurred to me,” he drawled, “that perhaps it would be best for us to start small. You are so prideful, after all.”

“Whatever you have in mind, I’m not doing it. I’m not rolling over for you.”

“Oh?” Condescension dripped from Lord Denholm’s voice. He unlatched something from his belt and held it up. A waterskin. Altair’s heart skipped a beat. “I was just going to offer you some water. You’ve been down here for so long, and I know how you mortals need it. All you need to do is ask nicely. Say ‘please.’”

Altair clenched his jaw. He needed that water. And yet… “Like I said,” he growled through grit teeth, “I’m not rolling over for you.”

With an overdramatic sigh, Lord Denholm put the waterskin back on his belt. “A shame. Hopefully when I return you’ll have changed your mind.”

He swept out of the room, closing the door behind him. Altair licked his lips again, trying not to wonder how long he could keep this up.

—

His arms had gone numb at some point.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been; the hours bled together with no way to mark the time. But in the intervening time since Lord Denholm’s last visit, his arms had started to tingle, and then lost all sensation. It was honestly something of a relief. He would take numbness over the steady, constant ache.

The ache in his arms had been replaced by an ache in his head. It was slight at first, but grew as time stretched on. He was glad there was no sound, as he was sure it would only aggravate the pain further. The twin punctures in his neck twinged in pain every time he shifted, but it was a minor discomfort compared to his body’s other concerns.

His mouth was so dry. Was there any moisture left? He couldn’t quite tell. All he knew was that he was so thirsty, and there would be no reprieve anytime soon.

It occurred to him, while he was alone with his thoughts, how cruelly ironic this all was. Elze’ith had given himself over to Lord Denholm to ensure Altair’s freedom. And Altair, rather than getting Elze’ith out, had gotten himself captured as well.

He should have been more panicked. He knew Lord Denholm’s plans for him aligned with every fear he had ever had about being used and dehumanized and not seen as the person he was. But he wasn’t afraid, not really. He was mostly just angry.

The shifting of stone heralded the door opening, and Altair let out a breath. Lord Denholm had changed his outfit, but otherwise was as dispassionate as ever as he regarded Altair.

“Did you do this to Elze’ith, too?” The raspiness to his voice somewhat undercut his sardonic tone.

A soft chuckle. “No, my light was always much more obedient. It’s one of my favorite things about him. I just want to see you get to that point as well.”

Disgust flooded Altair’s veins, but Lord Denholm either did not notice or did not care to react. He once again offered the waterskin. “It’s a simple request, little ruin. Say ‘please,’ and you can have as much as you need.”

“Get fucked.”

This time, Lord Denholm properly laughed. “Oh, my light will take care of that. Maybe you will too, in time.” He turned on his heel as nausea clenched Altair’s stomach. “But we can talk about that another time. I’ll return soon, little ruin.”

The door swung closed. Altair was very glad there was nothing in his stomach.

—

Lord Denholm was back.

Altair hadn’t heard him come in. Suddenly he was just there, staring down at him with an unreadable expression. Altair looked back up at him hazily; he tried to glare, but his eyes didn’t seem to want to focus.

His body was too hot. His heartbeat was too loud. His thoughts were too slow. And Lord Denholm was too damn smug.

“My little ruin,” he said almost fondly. He held out the waterskin. “All you have to do is say ‘please.’”

He was so thirsty, to the point it was practically all he could think about. He hadn’t known it was possible to be this thirsty. But despite how hard it was to grasp a coherent thought beyond his need for water, he knew he desperately didn’t want to give in.

Did he have a choice, though?

“Please,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “Please, let me drink something.”

“Very good, my little ruin,” Lord Denholm purred.

Altair blinked, and Lord Denholm was kneeling in front of him, holding the waterskin up to his lips. Water tipped into his mouth, more sublime than anything Altair had ever tasted. He drank greedily, reveling in the wetness on his mouth and throat. After several sips Lord Denholm pulled the waterskin away, and to his horror Altair let out an involuntary whine.

“You’ll make yourself sick if you drink too fast, little ruin,” Lord Denholm said benignly. Altair glared at him even as he remembered Elze’ith saying the same thing once.

Slowly, over several minutes, Altair drained the waterskin. His headache didn’t fully abate, and he still felt too hot for the cold stone chamber, but his thoughts and vision were clearer, at least. Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better about the concession he had made.

Lord Denholm stood. “See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

With a look full of contempt, Altair spat at Lord Denholm’s feet.

Lord Denholm’s mouth twitched. “I see you still have a lot to learn.”

#flicker in the dark #silly writes #whump #whump writing #altair buchannan oc #lord soren denholm oc #captivity #restraint #dehydration #stress positions #delirium #defiance

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izurou · 2 years ago

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if katsuki has told you once, he’s told you a thousand times—don’t wait up for me.

you never did understand what all the fuss was about. sure, the fatigue would catch up to you after a few consecutive days of doing so—but it was never anything a little more sleep in the morning couldn’t solve.

still, after seeing how adamant he was about the whole thing, you dropped the habit altogether—or at least, he thought you did.

it’s almost midnight when katsuki arrives home, easing the front door shut with the utmost care. he doesn’t bat an eye upon noticing the dull amber glow emanating from the kitchen—you always leave the little light above the stove on for him. he does however, feel his heart skip a beat when he rounds the corner and sees a figure clad in black sitting at his kitchen island.

he easily recognizes the figure as you—seemingly lost in your own little world as you rest your chin in your palm and stare down at your phone. you click on a news article that catches your eye—one from just two hours ago. dynamight’s big rescue! on the evening of tuesday september 6th, three villains entered a bank around ni—

“the hell are you doin’?” his voice lingers from the doorway, much softer than usual—because he knows you’re unaware of his presence.

it startles you nonetheless, but it could have been much worse—he probably just saved you from a major heart attack. a true hero, even off duty.

“just some light reading,” you turn your head and give him a sheepish smile, simultaneously giving him a once over for any injuries. fortunately, you find none—not that you can see at least.

“meant what’re you doin’ up,” he replies, crossing his strong arms over his chest as he takes a few steps further into the kitchen.

“waiting for you,” you hum, hopping out of your chair and padding over to him. he watches, from the moment those words leave your mouth to the moment you wrap your arms around his neck—and then he turns his head. “kats, i missed you.”

he knew it was coming, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to hear. lately, with this increase in crime, you’ve been seeing him less and less. he hates it, but he knows you—and how quick you’d drop everything for a little more time together. he’s witnessed it, all those late nights and early mornings, they took a toll on you—and you don’t deserve that. so, he put an end to it, made sure you knew how important your health was, and had you sleeping like a baby by ten o’clock most nights. but, here you are.

“go,” he nods towards the stairs and rests a hand on your lower back, ushering you ever so gently. “‘ll be there in fifteen.”

he’ll inhale his dinner, wash up at the speed of light, and slide into bed next to you—just like the old days, right?

“i haven’t eaten yet,” you mumble.

you feel his hand stiffen up, and he’s no longer steering you towards your bedroom. he peers down, scarlet eyes boring into you from right beneath his furrowed brow—because he knows that you know, he’d never let you go to bed on an empty stomach. touché.

“pain in my ass,” he mutters, dropping his hand and letting you shuffle towards the fridge where you’re harbouring two plates of leftovers. he trails his gaze down to your feet, and you swear you hear a little snort slip out of him.

as if drowning yourself in his hoodie and sweats wasn’t enough, you have his slippers on—and they’re a size, or seven too big for your feet. you don’t have enough fingers to count all the times he’s called you ronald, or said that he didn’t know the fuckin’ circus was back in town. he can make all the clown jokes he wants, you’ll never give up that warmth and comfort—him getting a kick out of the whole thing is a side effect you can handle.

“how was patrol?” you ask, sliding one of the plates into the microwave. you more or less know how it went, but you’ll keep that to yourself.

he mumbles a same old shit before giving you a vague rundown of the bank robbery—well, the attempted bank robbery. he’s cut off by the loud beeps that echo throughout the room. you reach for the button that opens the little door, but he beats you to it, nudging you away with his hip. he removes the plate—and it’s blatantly obvious that it’s his—the portion size being a dead giveaway. still, he holds it out for you to take. “eat.”

the look on your face must’ve said it all, because he’s quick to follow up. “‘ll finish what you don’t, baby. sit, eat.”

his gaze lingers on you for just a tad longer than usual before he turns around and heads for the second plate. there’s probably half the amount of food on this one, but he doesn’t seem to mind. so you sit, and eat. he’s not far behind, plopping down next to you just a couple minutes later.

“katsuki?” you side eye him, thinking about how cute he looks with his cheeks all full. it’s been a little while since you’ve sat down and had a meal with him—this is perfect, just what you wanted. still, you can’t help but look ahead as you yearn for a little more. “will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning?”

“mmm,” he holds his hand in front of his mouth, rapidly chewing the remainder of his bite so he can answer you. “whatever, but if you swing at me once ‘m leavin’ you there.”

as much as katsuki would love to have a testy six am encounter with the little overtired monster that is you—he won’t, because he’s going to let you sleep until your sweet heart’s content.

you won’t be happy, he knows that—hell, maybe you’ll even swing at him tomorrow evening while fully awake. nah, who’s he kidding? you’d never consciously do that. he almost smiles at the thought though, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent it.

right, you won’t be happy, but you’ll get over it. it’s his job to get up early, come home late, and deal with all the bullshit in between.

because, in all aspects of life—from sleep, right down to the level of warmth and comfort you feel on your feet—katsuki believes you deserve just a little more than him.

#izurou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #mha x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou hcs #bakugo hcs #bakugo headcanons #bnha hcs #tw food

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blzzrdstryr · 4 years ago

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Alone together

Yandere!Dainsleif x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2011

CW: Yandere themes, stalking, possessive behavior, PTSD

Khaenri’ah burns. Skies turn red, as tall pillars of smoke arise in the place of ruined towers. People cry and beg and scream.

“Ah, [First] , you came to help” Lisa greets you, waking up from her half-slumbering state: “Welcome, welcome. I already made some tea for you, just let me”. The librarian stretches and yawns akin to a cat, after she stands up from the counter, flashing you one of her charming smiles afterwards: “Go and fetch it. We will work after the tea”.

Something in her voice leaves no room for argument, so you sit at the offered table, eyes immediately shifting to the nearby window, mostly out of habit. Skies are blue and clear, buildings are whole and steady, people are laughing and cheering outside. It’s a sight that brings you heartache and comfort at the same time - no one should be subjected to what you had to live through, whether they worship the seven or not.

“And here it is”, the witch says, holding a tray with a steaming teapot, cups and a plate of cupcakes resting on top of it. The next fifteen minutes are spent drinking and carelessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular: Lisa is an excellent company, adept at maintaining the conversation interesting and atmosphere comfortable, her wide array of knowledge and keen intellect keeping you on your toes throughout the exchange despite the advantage of experience you happen to possess.

The brief tea party is then followed by the shared work of deciphering ancient documents, the librarian sometimes turns to you asking for the meaning of one word or another - most of the texts are written in Khaenri’ahn or archaic forms of the modern languages.

She doesn’t pry why you happen to possess such intrinsic knowledge on the long dead language, nor does she ask anything about your star-shaped pupils - she must have seen the descendants of your compatriots, then. You know there live at least two - one with tan skin and a warm smile that never reaches his cold eyes and a blonde youth with the powers of khemia rolling under his palms. There’s no courage to approach them.

You in turn share Khaenri’ah’s greatest legacy - knowledge and science that helped your nation to outpace the deities and turn them against you. It’s a nice feeling - making sure that the thing your people cherished the most will not be forgotten, even if it’s given to archon worshippers. Five centuries ago the thought of educating Teyvatians would be laughable to you - there’s no use in it, they will continue to believe in their gods - you would dismiss it, but now nationless you have no choice but to do it - it’s the only way to keep the products of your people alive. To keep the memory of your people alive.

Khaenri’ah burns. You run across the collapsing city, eyes growing wider as you see people slowly morphing into something. It’s bestial and feral, primitive. Your breath hitches, you want to scream.

“[First]?”, it’s Lisa again, she lightly taps your shoulder, a hint of concern creeps into her voice

“Ah? Everything is fine, I just zoned off” you reply, too quickly and too strained to be believable. Who could have known that even after five hundred years the flashbacks of what happened on that day will still haunt you? They trail your thoughts like determined hounds, sneaking up on you in the most inopportune times. One moment you are talking to someone, the second you relive the fall of Khaenri’ah. The memory feels too real to be a fantasy, leaving your thoughts messy, anxious and disordered, as you shake and try to calm yourself.

“Are you sure?”, she stands up from her seat and makes a couple of quick steps to you, taking a good look at your face: you must look horrible, you think, those episodes always leave you panting and on the verge of panic.

“Maybe we should continue tomorrow, there’s no use in haste, it’s not like our documents will run away”, Lisa continues, massaging circles into your shoulder - her hand is warm and comforting, grounding. You want to thank her for this - the understanding tone and the way she caresses you right now, helping you to keep the link with reality, but the words get stuck in your throat - it’s too much and too scary, to admit what just has happened not only to her, but to yourself too.

“Yes”, you finally force out of yourself, nodding along the way: “it would be for the better”. Your voice is still too tense and strained, filled with the grief for the people and places long past, but Lisa, to your relief, doesn’t point out any of it. You quickly gather your belongings and leave the library, almost forgetting to bid a farewell to the witch as you exit.

The sun begins to set as you make your way to the rented house, it’s small and nondescript, a complete opposite of the one you had in Liyue. You used to work as a scholar in the harbor before He found you again - you fled your spacious and cozy apartments in less than a day, leaving almost all of your possessions behind.

The thoughts of what had happened still buzz in your mind - you want to scream and cry, you want to vent to someone, but the words you will utter will be in pure khaenri’ahn they won’t understand you.

You think of finally approaching that star-eyed cavalry captain, Kaeya, maybe he saw what you witnessed too. You think of Albedo, who carries the same energy all khaenri’ahn constructs do. You want to ask him about his creator, you want to talk with him about Khemia. You think of Barbatos who wears the form of the cheerful bard, you want to accuse and scream and hit him.

You do nothing as the power leaves your body the same second - it’s scary, so scary to verbalize that, to talk and share and relive, and approaching any of those three means doing exactly so.

You stay inside instead, calming your beating heart and kicking out intrusive thoughts, and only when your pulse returns to the norm you allow yourself to finally stand up. The world is shaky and unreliable, but some things stay the same. Your room for example - you have a habit of leaving things in specific places, as a way to keep you grounded. There’s a comfort in familiarity - the one you desperately need.

Your eyes shift from one object to the other, until they stumble across something that sends your heart racing again. The cup you use is shifted by a couple of inches, facing you by the opposite side, there’s a flower and a note lying beside it. The words are in khaenri’ahn, the handwriting is familiar too.

Khaenri’ah burns. Your lungs do too from the sheer overexertion and fatigue, but you keep pushing further and further - you can’t give up yet, not when He needs you. A name forms on your lips.

Thousand of thoughts form in your mind, they’re panicked, fast and disjointed - flee again, cut and dye your hair, change the name too - you can start over in Inazuma again, it’s a closed country, so if you will manage to get in, it will be harder for him to track you again.

Who are you kidding?

Unlike you, he has a core of steel, an unwavering determination to settle things his way or die trying - be it opposing Celestia or gaining you. It was always like that, with the Twilight sword being stubborn to a fault - he never budged or surrendered, not when Khaenri’ah was still proudly standing, and not now, when there’s nothing but the charred remains of your homeland.

You met him when you got accepted into the Royal order, where a Konungr paired you with Him. The twilight sword was unrelenting in his pursuits even then, a trait that you both admired and feared in equal volume. The collapse of your nation only worsened this quality - if back then he was striving to supervise and oversee everything, then the tragedy exacerbated his controlling tendencies even further.

You were travelling together for the first fifty years after the fall, both affected by the same curse, as he started getting possessive. It began in innocuous things: asking where you were, what you were doing, you didn’t pay much attention back then, celestial wrath still fresh in your memory - he was just cautious you told yourself, it’s a safety measure.

But then these safety measures grew from simply inquiring about your day to accompanying you almost everywhere, and then it all culminated in Him locking you up, to keep you away from leaving.

You escaped then, and avoided him ever since, departing your residence the second you caught the wind of his possible proximity. Years turned into decades that later morphed into centuries, and you began to grow lax - he was getting closer and closer to you with each turn. The first time you had a suspicion of him being near you packed your things the same second and spent countless days traversing the land by hidden passageways, careful not to leave any traces, and now, now you still sit in your house, despite having evidence of him knowing where you are.

Maybe you grew tired of the cat and mouse game, maybe you just accepted that your recapture is inevitable and all your little escapes do nothing, but set it off for a couple of months, or maybe you’re just that lonely. It doesn’t matter, really, as you make no attempt to do anything - it’s useless, he already knows your location.

Khaenri’ah burns. You cry and you hate yourself - for weakness, for helplessness, for still being alive and sane. He stays near you as a silent shadow, his blue eyes shifting from your crying face to the wreckage of the city. There are no words shared between you that day - you’re crushed and empty, yet bare and aching at the same time.

“Dainsleif”, you greet him, once you hear the squeak of the opening door. He doesn’t look that different from five hundred years ago, but now his eyes are both more tired and alive with fervent light.

“[First]”, he simply replies, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer - there’s adoration and worship in his tone. He almost falls to his knees, as he takes your hands in his, capturing them in a steel trap.

“[First], I finally have you, [first]”, he murmurs, bringing your palm to his face. You don’t resist him, knowing it’s futile. His skin feels just like all those years ago - rough and dry, weathered down by the demanding lifestyle he leads. He gives a shy peck to your inner wrist, blue eyes intently watching you as he does so.

“Long time no see, Dain”, you start, trying to diffuse the tension in the air, as he grabs you by the chin and forces you into a kiss. He kisses with the desperation of a dying person, one of his hands firmly holding your head, the other starts to explore your body. It feels obscene. You are lightheaded, when he finally parts and hugs you again, still chanting “[First]” over and over again.

You allow him this liberty too, feeling a prick of pity in your heart. You know what it is - to be the sole survivor, too see your own people crumble and fall and transform. You know that he returns to that place again and again, reliving the same moment against his will. You know that he gasps and shivers when the memories get too real and overwhelming.

You both are children of the fallen nation, and there's no person in the world who could understand you better than he does. Maybe, you shouldn't have run, you think, listening to Dainsleif speak in Khaenri’ahn. There's a chain of connection between you two, it's unbreakable, forged in shared losses, tears and pain.

Khaenri’ah burns. It burns in both of you.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere dainsleif x reader #Yandere dainsleif #Dainsleif x reader #Dainsleif #Yandere genshin #genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Yandere male #Genshin impact #Introverted atheist w/ 0 people skills? I kin #my writing

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delimeful · 3 years ago

Text

nothing in this world (i wouldn’t do) (2)

warnings: mild blood/violence/injury, demon slaying, miscommunication, impromptu first aid, mentions of spiders, virgil tempting fate with his internal dialogue again

Whenever Virgil wasn’t sleeping, he was on the move.

At first, it had been because he didn’t trust himself around towns for too long, and there was always the chance of a real demon slayer getting wind of that ridiculous rumor and trying to track him down and kill him for it, even though it totally wasn’t his fault.

But then, as time went on, his bizarre pseudo-popularity seemed to have a different side effect.

Namely, every time he managed to save another human and hauled them back to the nearest town, he’d be practically swarmed. Antsy townsfolk would hurriedly inform him of the horrible tragedy they’d heard about up north, or the mysterious disappearances by the woods between this town and the neighboring one, or any sort of rumor that they thought a “demon slayer” should know about.

Where exactly were all the real demon slayers when people needed them? Why was he, an actual demon, seemingly more accessible for seeking help?!

Still, he wasn’t exactly doing anything else with his life (his unlife?), and if there were less demons, that meant the world would be safer for Thomas, didn’t it? So off he went, taking the less-traveled paths and following vague leads right into more danger.

His latest case had been a requested one, from a weaver in the last town. She had received a letter from her brother saying that he planned to come visit, and weeks later, he still hadn’t appeared or replied to her many return messages. The worry seemed to weigh her down like a physical burden, and he’d agreed perhaps more easily than normal.

Now, he was wedged into a shallow crevice in the mountainside and sorely regretting that decision.

The issue wasn’t the demon, no. He’d actually been making good progress on getting deeper and deeper into its territory in the past few days.

The issue was that he wasn’t the only one hunting it.

First, it had been a gaggle of young teens, and he’d been so alarmed that he’d almost dropped right out of the trees and ushered them back out of the woods. The less humans traipsing around this deep in demon territory, the better.

Of course, that was when he’d managed to spot the swords strapped to their sides, and suddenly, never appearing before a human again was looking more and more appealing. He’d immediately switched gears from tracking to stealth, and honestly, should have just turned tail and left then.

Instead, because those kids were around Thomas’s age and he still needed to find that weaver’s brother and also he was a sentimental idiot, he trailed them at a distance, always staying downwind and poised to bolt.

They handled themselves well at the beginning, and then the environment began to warp around them, and then it turned out there was more than one demon nesting here, and Virgil had been on the brink of jumping down and interfering, swords or no swords, when--

Between one blink and the next, one of the demons was cleanly beheaded.

The demon slayer-- for what else could he be-- smiled brilliantly as the body disintegrated to ash, holding a hand out to help one of the teens to their feet.

“It seemed like you all could use a little assistance,” he’d said, turning to face one of the other demons with a confidence that visibly unsettled it. Above, a circling crow cried out raspily. “My dear Missus informed me of your call for backup.”

If the stranger’s swift execution hadn’t tipped Virgil off, the way the baby slayers looked up at him with blatant awe was clue enough. This slayer was powerful and charismatic, whereas Virgil was neither of those things, so he was going to stay right here in his crevice until the whole situation had sorted itself out.

The three other demons seemed to have no such qualms, lunging at him in a semi-coordinated attack. The slayer handled them with terrifying ease, and for a moment it seemed that the battle had been settled, as simple as that.

Of course, that was when the landscape twisted further in on itself, buzzing like a disturbed wasps nest, and Virgil realized abruptly that this was the first time he’d seen so many feral, newly-created demons in one territory.

A stronger demon was keeping them all in line, like the queen of a hive. And it wasn’t at all pleased about the intrusion.

The slayer seemed to have caught on as well, his sword held aloft in threat. “Looks like the real fight starts now,” he said with a sharp, cocky grin.

Mere minutes later, the smile had grown considerably more strained.

Coincidentally, he’d taken considerably more damage in that time as well.

The slayer had given as good as he got, but against a demon’s healing factor, it wasn’t good enough. He was losing.

“Get out of here!” he instructed, and the baby slayers hesitated, clearly torn. He shot them a dazzling grin, hiding all signs of fatigue even as another blow rattled his sword. “Come now, don’t you know an order when you hear one? I don’t want any distractions while I handle this gruesome ghoul, so back to town with you!”

He cut off any further arguments by pointedly leading his attacker astray, giving them ample time to flee. Virgil felt some of the tension fade from him as the baby slayers got away cleanly, leaving just the slayer and the queen.

Really, he shouldn’t want the slayer to survive. Not when having a slayer that strong anywhere near him, or even in the same country as him, could easily be a death sentence. That didn’t change the jolt of panic that went through him when the queen finally gained the upper hand, knocking the slayer back into sheer cliff face hard enough to snap something.

… A slayer that protected others from demons so wholeheartedly was one that would protect Thomas.

The queen advanced towards the slayer, wounded and weakened but already gloating about how his flesh would be more than enough to completely rejuvenate her. Her entire focus was on the human’s fallen form.

Virgil dropped down on top of her soundlessly, claws piercing through muscle and fat until he’d torn her nearly clear in half. She shrieked in outrage, but a skull-crushing stomp was enough to knock her unconscious for at least a few moments.

The slayer, exhausted, half-crumpled against a tree, and his shoulder very clearly dislocated, looked up at him for a moment with something like hope.

When they met eyes, however, that was swiftly extinguished in favor of wary frustration.

“Another demon?” he complained, trying rather unsubtly to grasp for the sword that the queen had knocked free of him. “Exactly how many monsters can one fit on a single mountain?”

The sword was entirely out of reach, but Virgil kicked it a little further away for good measure. The slayer shot him a petulant glare.

Virgil pointed at a scrap of bloodied cloth left behind from one of the baby slayers, trying out a questioning rumble. Backup coming for you?

“I’m offended that you think I would answer that,” the slayer responded, nose upturned, “or any other monosyllabic interrogative questions, for that matter.”

Virgil growled low in his throat, frustration bubbling up. If he ditched the slayer here without backup, there was no guarantee that someone would find him before the morning came, and Virgil was relatively sure that the demon he’d just stabbed through wasn’t the only threat up here.

Not to mention the cold. He hadn’t thought the nights were cold enough to harm people yet, but demons seemed a lot more durable, and the slayer was shaking just slightly. He remembered the few times he’d had to sit out snowstorms while traveling back home up the mountain, and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

So, leaving the slayer behind to fend for himself wasn’t an option. That meant doing something insanely, dangerously stupid: taking the guy with him.

Precautions first, then. He was pretty good at hiding himself from other demons by now, but human scents were a lot more trackable.

Virgil scooped the slayer sword up off the ground by the hilt, grimacing at the burning sensation it emitted. The slayer’s jaw dropped.

“Hey! You can’t just take that!” he cried indignantly, starting off on a tirade about craftsmanship and integrity. His rant cut off sharply as Virgil raised the sword and brought it down on the queen’s neck.

His motions were stilted compared to anyone who actually knew how to use a sword, but it hardly mattered. The sun-blade cut through easily, decapitating her in one motion and leaving only ash behind. He took a moment to hope for the soul of whoever she’d been before being turned, and a longer moment for the weaver’s brother, who was surely dead. Exhaling lowly, he planted the sword blade-first in the dirt.

It was tempting to keep it; he’d certainly wished more than once for an easier way to deal with his adversaries than the bloody scraps he normally got in, but there was no way he was bringing a demon slayer and a demon killing sword with him. That was just asking for trouble.

“That demon did all the work in an honest fight against me, and yet it’s the backstabber turning against his own kind who actually gets to eat me? That’s sad, even for a demon,” the slayer bit out, still trying to inch his way back up into a standing position.

Virgil ignored his muttering and took a testing breath in through his mouth. The slayer was definitely bloodied, but most of the major injuries mustn’t have broken skin, because the smell wasn’t too bad. It probably helped that he’d managed to avoid being injured in this fight, and so didn’t have a desperate need to heal like normal. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t even need a nap to make up for it.

He reached out for the slayer’s collar, already mentally plotting out the most efficient way to a distant abandoned bear den when a piercing shriek sounded, and his vision was suddenly full of flapping feathers. He staggered a few steps back with a surprised yelp.

“No! Missus Fluffybottom, you beautiful fool!” the slayer cried out, sounding incredibly distraught.

Virgil swatted outwards and managed to catch his furious assailant on the second try, his hand easily big enough to grasp it. He drew it away from his face for inspection, and realized that the screaming and wriggling bundle of fluff was actually a young crow.

“Scourge! Fiend!” the crow yelled at him in a belligerent tone that was uncannily similar to the slayer’s. He blinked down at it, befuddled.

“Wait! Don’t hurt her,” the slayer said in the most subdued voice Virgil had heard from him all evening. He looked up and found that the slayer had managed to climb to his knees, but wasn’t struggling to move further. “She’s a simple bird, no threat to you. You’ve already got your prize, haven’t you?”

There was something uncomfortably desperate in his gaze, and Virgil realized with a start that the slayer absolutely believed he was about to kill his bird in cold blood. He opened his hand, bracing for another assault, but the crow kicked off and flew right to the slayer instead, nestling against his collarbone. “Roman, Roman, Ro-man!” it crooned.

“Get out of here, you finicky little fowl, go! Shoo!” the slayer-- Roman?-- commanded, to no avail. He glanced up at Virgil, lifting his good hand and turning his bad shoulder slightly as though to shield the little creature.

Virgil averted his eyes from the bird, hopefully conveying how much he didn’t care about her. If he had enough self control to not murder-kill people despite it being all monsters like him wanted to do, he wasn’t going to snap because a bird the size of his palm repeated some swears in his direction.

Back to business. He grabbed the back of the slayer’s outfit and pulled, hauling him up onto one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. … Or like a sack of other, non-food items. Virgil sighed through his nose. Whatever.

Roman sucked a breath in through his teeth as his injuries were jostled, and then immediately started squawking in protest upon realizing the indignity of his position. The crow-- apparently dubbed Fluffybottom-- repositioned herself to a perch on Roman’s calf and joined in on the complaints with her own raspy calls.

Virgil ignored them, already focusing on the trek ahead.

---

By the time they reached the cave, Roman had long stopped muttering creative obscenities under his breath.

The slayer might have actually fallen unconscious, but Virgil wasn’t going to jostle him around just to check. If he stopped focusing on their surroundings, he could easily hear Roman’s heart beating, the blood pumping beneath his skin, tantalizingly out of reach--

… He had mostly focused very hard on their surroundings. The point was, the slayer was definitely still alive, which meant him passing out during their travel was fine. Convenient, even.

It certainly made it easier to squat and carefully lower his body onto the cave floor without worrying about any sudden thrashing on Roman’s part. Laying flat on his back with only the slightest crumple to his brow, the guy looked a lot less intimidating. He was probably Virgil’s age, honestly.

He also looked unsettlingly corpse-like at the moment. Virgil considered for a moment, and then sidled over to Roman’s side, tugging his injured arm out of the curled up position it had taken. He carefully maneuvered it until it was straight out, forming a right angle with Roman’s side.

Then, he pulled, applying a slow, steady pressure. The misaligned bone shifted back into place with a sickening clunk, and Roman cried out as he regained consciousness. Virgil released him, and he instantly cradled the limb to his chest.

“What in the name of--,” he started, and then seemed to remember it all at once. Or the wave of pain from all those other injuries hit him all at once. One of the two.

Either way, he sagged back against the ground, squinting at Virgil suspiciously as he bustled around the small space. Missus Fluffybottom landed on his forehead, making him look even more ridiculous.

“I notice I am not devoured,” he finally spoke, almost conversational.

Virgil ignored him in favor of moving to arrange some firewood near the mouth of the cave.

“Not even a teensy bit,” Roman continued, making a show of inspecting himself for missing flesh.

Virgil continued to stack rocks around the wood. He was beginning to regret waking the slayer up, dislocated shoulder or not.

“Now, my silent saboteur, I want you to be honest. Are you planning to turn me into some sort of spider?” the slayer asked, and that was enough to finally make Virgil turn with an incredulous raised eyebrow.

“What?” Roman defended, pinkening. “That’s a real thing that a demon did to some people! And you seem... spider-y.”

Virgil scowled at the insulting way the comment was phrased. Spiders were cool and helpful and oh yeah, they didn’t annoyingly needle him while he was busy keeping them alive. He abandoned the fire to stalk closer and drop to a squat by Roman’s legs, dodging a wild kick easily. He pointedly tore a long swath of white fabric from the slayer’s overlayer.

“Hey! Do you even know how long embroidery like that takes--,” Roman cried, and Virgil smacked a hand over his mouth, drawing close and hissing quietly. The sound was close enough to a shush to get his point across, going by the way the slayer huffed indignantly but didn’t speak when Virgil pulled his hand away.

He did whine in protest when Virgil grabbed his injured arm, but then he went still and silent, like he thought any sudden movements would end with the whole limb removed. Virgil wrapped his forearm in the fabric, and then looped the extra around his shoulder, maneuvering him as painlessly as possible, and tied it off.

Roman’s silence suddenly felt distinctly different.

Virgil pulled him up into a sitting position by the front of his shirt, and tightened the knot slightly. The sling looked just about as good as could be expected, given the circumstances.

“You are actually a demon, aren’t you?”

Speech was one of those human things that Virgil still hadn’t recovered, but he thought that the sarcastic fang-bearing smile he directed at Roman spoke volumes all on its own.

“Then why are you tenderly nursing a demon slayer back to health?” he retorted, sounding bewildered and incredulous in equal measures.

Why are you pushing your luck? Virgil thought back, clicking his teeth in irritation and shoving the slayer back into a prone position.

Roman let out a high pitched wheeze, his good arm coming to cradle his ribs defensively. “Or not-so-tenderly, I suppose. The question stands!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and returned to the half-built fire. He’d pestered the only doctor in town for first aid lessons for months, he wasn’t going to stop practicing medicine just because of a little thing like being turned into a demon that craved human flesh.

To his surprise, the silence lingered as he worked, long enough that he turned and cast a suspicious glare over his shoulder at the slayer, who jolted nervously at his attention.

“Wh-what?” he asked, fiddling with the torn edges of his sling. “No escape attempts here, haha!”

“...” Virgil squinted at him and his blatant fake laugh for a long moment, trying to figure out just what was wrong with the scene.

Wait. Where was the bird?

A chill ran down his spine, and he twisted to stare at the mountainside beyond the cave entrance. No raspy-voiced baby crows in sight.

It had to have gone for help, knowing exactly where Virgil and its slayer had holed up. Roman knew he’d realized it, was watching him with the wary expectancy of a cornered hare in front of a trapper.

A surge of furious panic did bubble up in the back of Virgil’s mind, but he quelled it with relative ease.

If backup was coming, then the human was no longer his problem.

Pleased at the neat way the situation had resolved itself, Virgil tapped two fingers to his temple in a gesture of farewell and scrambled out the cave, scaling the cliff face and resolving to put as much distance between himself and this region as possible.

With any luck, he’d never run into that particular slayer again.

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides #ts virgil #demon slayer au #nitwiwd #nothing in this world i wouldnt do #my writing #writing #bthb #ts roman #kny fusion #am i forgetting tags?#im really fond of this one #i hope you guys like it :)

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luimagines · 4 years ago

Note

RQ: He’s upset and needs comforting

Masterlist

Ya'll want angst? Because I have some angst.

Very hurt/comfort

Set platonically and within the group since there was no specification. Hope that’s ok! Sorry it took awhile, it got away from me again. I think this may be a trend.

Scenario under the cut! It’s super long so take caution!

Sky

It took a while for you to notice but eventually you do.

Sky has been acting weird all day.

It was only clipped responses at first, then it was was the lack of attention where Sky would have been the first to comment or act otherwise. What really tipped you off finally was how he seemed to be evading the whole group. Not necessarily stepping away and out of sight but he didn’t interact with anyone and when they approached him, he didn’t make eye contact, seemingly trying to cut the conversation short.

No one has said anything.

You mention it to Twilight about his out of character behavior but he says that it maybe a bad day, or he slept wrong, or some other reason that you stopped listening to because it didn’t make any sense.

Sky was always trying to be friendly no matter his mood and it took a lot to shake him up.

What was eating at the Chosen Hero?

Soon, the uncertainty begins to eat at you too and you wait for night fall, once everyone is asleep to strike.

Strike up a conversation that is.

Sky usually takes the last watch because he’s usually the first one out regardless of what activities for the day so you strive to wake up early.

It works for the most part, your internal clock doing what you want it to do when you blink your eyes open. Part of you begins to drift off again so you sit up and nearly fall asleep that way.

A hand comes up on your back and rubs a small circle. “Nightmare?”

It’s Sky and he’s looking at you with mild concern.

You smile and shake your head. “No. I’m alright but I think I’ll stay up with you if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.” He moves out of your space and back to where he sat.

You follow, still groggy from just waking from your slumber but succeed in not stepping on any of your friends or waking them up as well with the added noise. you sit next to the Hero of the Skies with little fan fare and let the moment settle on the both of you before looking skyward.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look at Sky and continue star gazing even if they’re a little harder to spot as the sun travels closer for it’s shift.

Sky hums in agreement and follows your gaze upwards.

“Are you ok? You seemed a little off lately.”

Sky doesn’t say anything for the first few seconds and you suspect that maybe he didn’t hear you. With him spacing out so much and the fact that you whispered for the sake of your still sleeping friends, you’re inclined to repeat yourself but Sky answers in time.

“Just thinking a lot, I suppose. Nothing serious.”

“Yeah?” You don’t look his way. This is casual. This is friendly. This is not a big deal. “Rupee for your thoughts?”

“It’s not that interesting.”

You shrug. “Hit me with it anyway. It’s got to be something if it’s throwing you off your rocker. Maybe a new perspective will help clear some of it up?”

Sky frowns at your attempts, once again retreating into his mind. You let the offer hang in the air and let it sink in.

You’re disinclined to bring it up anymore. Your brain is still tired and you’re wondering your effectiveness when half of your thoughts are still muddled with sleep and fatigue. You could have totally slept in some more. What on earth made you think this was a good idea?

“Time mentioned something earlier that I can’t seem to let go of.” Sky begins.

You hum back and let him keep talking.

“I never fought this Ganon guy they all so talk so much about. I fought the God Demise. Before I could land the final blow, he cast a curse on me, on us, that some cycle would continue. His hatred would last forever and my blood line and Zelda’s will be cursed to deal with constant darkness caused by him.” Sky admits, looking now at his intertwined hands. “I finished him soon after that but... I wonder... Am I the cause-... Is this all my fault? Am I the reason that we’re all here right now? That everyone has gone through so much? So many thing happened that should have never occurred. Time and Legend and Wild have all suffered so much.... more than I can possibly ever imagine and it seems like it’s never ending. Everyone starts they’re adventures so young... If I had killed him sooner... If I had just got it over with... If I had just shut him up-”

“Hey.” Your hand lands on his shoulder, cutting off his tirade. “None of this is anyone’s fault. The only people to blame are Ganon and now, this Demise guy. You did what you could. You still got the job done and no one here will ever blame you for what has happened to them or to Hyrule. You were young too... you’re still young. Give yourself a little kindness and understanding, just as you do with everyone here. You didn’t deserve it either. It’s not like you asked to fight a God.”

“Well...”

“Sky you know what I mean.”

“I should have been faster. If-”

“There’s no use in worrying about what if’s.” You shove him slightly. “This is our life. Even if you ask, no one is capable of giving you the answers. I get it. It’s hard to know if the path you took is the right one if it’s all you’ve ever known and you can’t see where the other would have lead... But... Even if horrible things happen, I’m still glad to have met you. I’m glad I met the others. I’m happy to be here with you and with them, and I’m glad that it’s not just me anymore.”

You let the words sink in before leaning down wards and trying to get him to look you in the eye. “I can’t answer your questions. But what happened, happened and the best thing we can do is learn how to play with the cards we’re dealt.”

He take a deep breath and finally looks in your direction. “I know you’re right.”

“Naturally.”

“But I can’t help but feel responsible for being-”

“But you’re not responsible for their pain or any of this Sky. If Ganon has anything to do with Demise then it’s all Demise’ fault. His and his only. Understand?” You stress. “I wish... I wish I could do something more to help.”

Sky places his hand over yours where you still have it on his shoulder and sends you a small smile. “I know. Me too.”

Wild

“Zelda, would you please drop it!” You hear the Champion yell, his voice carrying over the wind and somehow getting louder. “We’ve had this conversation before and it’s not the time to have it again. I have things to do excuse me.”

Wild storms into his house and shuts the door behind, blocking it with all his weight and waits for the indignant shrieking on the other side to go away. The voice ends with a frustrated huff and after a moment of silence, Wild relaxes and steps away from the door and further into the house.

You’re almost scared for the moment. You’ve not known Wild to yell, even less so for a Link to be on bad terms with Zelda no matter the universe. To make matters worse, you were the only that was actually within the house at the moment and you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed from here.

“Trouble in paradise?”

That probably wasn’t the way to go, if you were being honest with yourself.

Wild groans, loud and exaggerated and sits at the table in front of you with as much fan fair.

“Do not...call it that.” He sounds tired.

“Sorry.” You amend with an apologetic shrug. “That-” You reference to the scene outside. “-Didn’t sound ideal.”

“No. It’s not.” Wild sighs and places his face in his hands with his elbows on the table. Bad table manners, a small voice in your head pipes up. But it’s his house, so you bite your tongue.

“Can I ask what it was about?” You hesitatingly venture.

Wild takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I wanted to live a simple life.” He starts. “Everything was over now, right? That was the idea I had. Defeat the evil and get to finally live as a normal man. Maybe explore more of my home and show Zelda all the cool things I’ve seen and done. Everything I knew, everything I remembered is gone and has been gone for a while. No one alive misses it. No one alive even knows about it. This is the world they were born into and they wouldn’t have it any other way. I was prepared to accept that and join them.”

Your face twists in sympathy as you nod along. “I take it that’s the issue here.”

“When I defeated Calamity Ganon and reunited with Zelda, she seemed so full of hope and purpose.” Wild continues. “I saw it in her eyes. She wanted a different thing to what I wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

Wild gives you a pained look. “Zelda wants to try and rebuild the kingdom. Make it into what she remembers it to be. She wants to strengthen relationships with the other nations and reestablish the royal family and a whole lot of other things that I cannot begin to think of how long it would both take and last considering all the damage that already been done. She wants to be Queen. And over what? Hyrule Kingdom is no more. Can’t be a Queen without a kingdom to rule and there’s not a lot of Hylians left that would agree to being ruled over or even enough of them to count as a kingdom to begin with.”

“I suppose it’s not a bad goal to have but you do make a point.” You try and add to the conversation, feeling wildly out of your depth. “Does she know that you-”

“Yes. And she thinks I’m crazy for it. She thinks that I’ve given up on my friends and the past and the future and- uugghhh.” Wild leaned forward and slams his head on the table with enough force to make you jump.

“That look like it hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I believe you.” A small smile covers your face.

A beat passes before Wild continues to talk with his head still on top of the table. “I don’t think she realizes that I’ve changed after everything. Maybe if I had my memories to begin with, or maybe if I had managed to defeat Calamity Ganon sooner, I’d be more inclined to agree with her, but I’ve experienced so much and done so much that I don’t want to go back to how things were. I’m a different man now.” Wild looks up at you. “She’s different too but I don’t think she’s ready for that conversation.”

“So you’re stuck with this one?”

“Yes.”

“That sucks man.” You shift in your seat. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Not if you can change the past.” He pouts.

“Shame. I’m fresh out of past changing wishing powder.”

“That’s not a thing.” He pouts even more.

You chuckle at the display before sobering up ever so slightly. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“What good will that do?”

“Maybe a third person party has to step in. It could be that it’s because you’re the one who saying that she isn’t listening.” You shrug. “I think you’re right but I’m willing to give her chance to tell her side of the story while you cool down in here. I can be a distraction so you can sneak out quietly and she won’t know you’re here anymore! It’s a win win! And maybe you guys can come to an agreement when you both see each other again with new perspectives.”

Wild gives you another tired look and leans into his hand. “I doubt it would work. Zelda is incredibly stubborn, one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But if you think it would help, I won’t stop you. I’ve run out of arguments and I’m done hearing hers.”

“Ok.” You say getting up and moving around the table. “I think it’s worth a shot. There’s a saying where I’m from that goes, ‘it’ll all be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.’”

You give Wild a hug around his shoulder and squeeze him tight. “I have faith that you’ll pull through and get to live peacefully, but until then, you’ve got us on your side ok?”

He leans in your direction and wraps his arms around your own. “I know. I figured as much.”

“Good man.”

“I’m definitely sneaking out of here though.”

“That’s fair. Go hide.”

“I will... And thanks for listening to me. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Four

"I'm sorry, what?" Four snaps his head up to stare at the Champion.

"What?" Wild tilts his head. "What? There's no stuff in the grass in my Hyrule. Just crickets and lizards...you know normal stuff. I don't know why there's tools and rupees in all of yours."

"You don't-" Four cut himself off with a click of his teeth, a piece in his mind clicking into place. He stands suddenly, clearly upset and tense as he processes the information.

"Four?" You call out to him but he doesn't respond to you, nor does he look back.

"Four!" Hyrule calls as well. "Where are you going?"

No reply.

"I'll go with him. Just in case." You stand up in a rush and nearly knock over the equipment at your feet in the process. "Don't wait up for us."

You follow him.

Four is fast and quiet and it takes very little time to lose him- or rather, for him to lose you.

Before you knew it, there's no trace of him and there's nothing within the forest that would give you a hint to his whereabouts.

"Great." You hiss and look around.

Nothing.

"Four!" If he won't show himself, you'll just have to make some noise. "Four! Four! Show me a sign so I know you're not dead!"

You wait.

"Don't make me get Wolfie!"

Nothing.

"Four!" You scream a little louder and begin to run. Now that you've said it out loud, despite being a joke in the beginning, the thought of Four being dead somewhere spikes your panic and anxiety and it fuels your quest.

It's only been a few minutes and Four can handle himself just fine but you don't think about that.

"FOUR!"

"Why are you screaming?" A voice come just beyond you.

You sprint toward it and find Four in a small clearing, crouched down and appearing to hold something in the palm of his hand.

"I was calling you." You don't know how you find it in you scold him. "A response would have been nice."

"Sorry." He shrugs. "I was having a conversation, it would be rude to drop it."

You get on your tip toes to look around him and find nothing. "With... With what?"

Four looks down into his hand and places it, ever so gently, on the ground, pausing and standing up to see you. "You can't see them?"

"See who?" You step over to him. "Four? Are you ok?"

His face twists in annoyance before sighing. "I'm fine."

"No offence, but I doubt that."

"It... a group of creatures that can only be seen by good children. They were important on my quests and have helped me greatly. Children usually stop seeing them around the time when they turn sixteen."

"Would it be easy for me to chalk it all up to magic?" You bit your lip.

"Probably. If it'll help you sleep at night." Four sighs and looks down to the ground, a small smile on his lips before it twists into a painfully and... he looks seconds from crying.

"I did so much to help them... and they helped me.... They leave gifts in the grass to help travelers and us heroes alike and yet... Wild says it doesn't happen anymore..." Four gulps and looks away from you and what ever is by his foot. "They wouldn't stop.... They're incredibly kind and hospitable and... There's no reason for them... Why are they gone?"

"Four." You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

"What happens to them?" His Adam's apple bobs a bit as he sucks in a breath. "It just means there was no one to help them."

"Oh Four." You pull him into a hug and nearly crush him with it.

"There's nothing I can do to help them, is there?" He sniffles into your chest.

"No, I... I don't think so Four. Not that far out into the future." You shake your head and begin to rub circles on his back.

You don't think he's crying but he might be fighting it because he does begin shaking.

He doesn't say anything else and you're loath to let him go when he's so emotionally charged. So you hold him. You hold him for as long as he needs and you wait for him to pull away first.

When he does, you keep your hands on his shoulders and he stays within your reach. Four begins to take deep calming breaths with his eyes closed and you instinctually run your hands through his bangs and push some of the loose hairs from his face.

Minutes continue to pass and the sounds of nature around you fill the void.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I wish I could help you but I don't know how."

Four nods and rubs his eyes. "I don't doubt that. Thank you. I'll be ok."

You don't think he's ready to go back to the group just yet, not after all that. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. How did they help you? How did you help them? What are they exactly?"

It earns you a small laugh and he grins up at you with a watery smile. "Sit down. And let me tell you about the Picori."

Twilight

“You almost died and for what?!” Twilight screams at Wild for the umpteenth time.

It startles you to hear his voice reach such volumes but you’re inclined to agree with him this time around. After Wild’s stunt with taking a hit to the head for Wind, you’d been on the look out for his more... self sacrificing behavior. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to do it and you tried to make it so there wouldn’t even be a chance for him to make such a decision.

This time though, in this last fight, you took your eyes off of him for only a moment and that’s when he broke his streak of uneventful fights.

Twilight, of course, is livid and has no regard for the poor creatures of the forest that have to endure his tirade as he unleashes his concern and worry in the form of rage and over exaggerated gestures.

When Hyrule finishes healing your more minor wounds, you slink away from the soon to be screaming match since Wild is very much still conscious, if a little roughed up. You don’t intended to stray as far as you go but you don’t find it in yourself to care for the time being.

Being around so many people for so long is taxing. You make the executive decision to remove yourself for the time being while tensions are high, to both cool off and to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.

There’s a small creek nearby, you find, and decide to make a small space for yourself there until dinner comes rolling around. The birds and the babbling waters calm your soul and snuffle out the last of the adrenaline. You don’t know how long you sit there, but you can faintly hear the screaming match in the distance that you dipped out of.

You don’t regret it.

More time passes and you find that you may or may not have taken a small nap in the meantime. If the position of the sun is anything to go by.

Despite the pain in your back from sleeping against a tree, the slight ache in your neck from the angle you slept in, you feel better. Clearer, even.

You hope your absence wasn’t entirely noticed but you can’t seem to regret leaving either.

Footsteps creep closer to you and you huddle into a small ball out of habit to avoid detection.

It’s Twilight.

He walks near the creek and takes a heavy seat next to it. He looks both pale or red faced at the same time but exhaustion is laced in his entire body from what you can tell.

He doesn’t notice you.

You uncurl and set your legs out in front of you. Leaning forward a little, as quietly as you can, you see that he’s upset. It doesn’t surprise you. But seeing as you don’t how to deal with an upset Twilight and you can’t really sneak away without crossing his line of sight or making any miniscule noise, you still yourself and wait.

And wait.

Twilight calls your name. Quietly and hollow- like he’s not all there. Or in the way one would talk to a memory.

It’s immediately unsettling. Both in how he sounds and how he knew you were there without you doing anything. But you suppose Twilight can just sense things like that from times to time. It’s certainly not the first time he’s done it.

“I’m here.” You reply.

“How long?”

“A few hours I think. Longer than you were here that’s for sure.” You shrug and slowly crawl out of your hidey hole. “I think I fell asleep....The sun wasn’t over there when I first got here.”

Twilights hums in what you think is agreement but it’s really only a sound. “It’s a nice spot.”

You smile. It’s tense and little fake, but he’s not looking at you so you don’t care for authenticity. “Good thing it’s big enough for the both of us huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked into the distance again, noting that the sun is beginning to set and takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

“Can’t say that I have.” You move closer to him, aiming to sit by his side. “I’ve always enjoyed sun sets and I find them calming to watch but hearing someone finding them sad is a new one. Do you feel sad as dusk falls?”

He hums again. “They say it’s the only time their world interacts with ours.”

“Whos?”

“Lingering spirits I suppose...” Twilight tilts his head upwards before twisting it to look at you. “It’s nothing. I’m just reminiscing about my life before my adventure is all. My... father told me those words and I haven’t forgotten them since.”

You hum this time and lean back to mirror him. “Wanna tell me why?”

“That Champion reminds me so much of myself and yet... he’s ten times worse.” Twilight falls backwards with a soft thump. “I know why he does it but I...”

“You care about him and don’t want to see him hurt.” You shrug. “It’s not exactly a new concept.”

“Tell that to him.”

“Maybe I will. He gets just as upset as you do when this happens, you know.” You shift your weight to make it easier to stand up later.

“Does he? You’d think that he’d get the point to stop doing then.” He growls.

“Maybe he’s scared of losing more friends.” You blurt before you can stop yourself. That was something Wild told you in confidence and while he didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone- that was kinda implied.

Twilight stills for a moment, the fight leaving him again in a single breath as he considers your words. They don’t seem to be new news to him.

Wild is pretty close to Twilight...Maybe he already knew.

“I still think I’m entitled to not like it.” He settles.

“It’s not he’s asking you to be ok with it. I know I’m not.”

“I guess that’s fair then.” Twilight sits up again and stands up in one fluid motion that you envy. With a turn on his heel, he holds his hand out to you to take.

You take it and feel him effortlessly lift you off of the ground with that one hand.

You don’t comment on it.

“Come on.” He says. “I’m going to need you for moral support.”

“Why?”

“If I yelled in front of him of the whole group, I should apologize to him in front of the whole group.” He admits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “But I might need an excuse to get close to him again after all the things I’ve said.”

“I get your desert and you’ve got yourself a deal. I left to not get involved and here you are... involving me.” You tease. “I demand payment.”

“One desert? I can do that.”

Hyrule

“I can’t do this.” You snap your head to the sound of the voice and see Hyrule with his arms cross and shaking.

“What? What’s happening? Hyrule?” You step closer to him as you’re the only one within arms reach. “What do I need to do? How can I help?”

“There’s nothing. Nothing you can do, that can make this better.” Hyrule takes one ground step before throwing his arms down. “Don’t you see them? With all their tools and experience and then there’s- me. Just me. Some magic later and a old man with a sword and I found myself trying to save my princess and defeat some evil, but these guys...”

You look around, trying to see if Legend or Sky are close enough to give you back up, or better yet, take over. You suppose it’s better than a panic attack but it’s so left field that you’re stunned and floundering to catch this hot potato of a conversation.

He keep talking.

“For all that is good and holy, they are heroes. Do you see them? Some of them have training, and families and skills and I....was just a boy in a grave yard. How can I even compete with them? I don’t, that’s how. But how can they consider me an equal? When I was in town and listened to the elders and their stories, they would tell me of a legendary hero from the past who courageously defended our home until the very end and who was virtually undefeated in all his adventures. And then I meet Legend....and he’s so much cooler than all those stories combined.”

“Link.” You call out to him and back to the real world. “You need to slow down for me honey because you’re too fast for me to keep up. What do you mean how can they see you as an equal? You defeated Ganon just as they did. You stood up for your home just as they did. You did it all on your own just as they did. Why wouldn’t they consider you an equal? No one cares about where you’re from, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“But they can do so many things even without the sword!” He exclaims. “They all have a place to go to, a person who cares about them, a title or a skill and a world that’s not on the brink of collapse-”

“Ok, whoa, hey.” You step into his space and take his face into your hands, bringing it up for him to look you in the eyes.

“I have no idea what brought this up but I won’t stand for anyone talking bad about you. And that includes you. We... can talk about your home with clearer heads later, ok? Maybe the others can help with that when we get there, yeah? And well....” You’re sinking. You don’t know what to do with all this information and you have even less of an idea about how to address it.

“Good golly, when it rains, it pours with you lot, doesn’t it?” You hiss under your breath and bite the bullet. With a strong grip, you wrap your arms around the Traveler and pull him close. You try to keep your grip strong without fear of hurting him, but it hits you then how thin he is. How light he actually is. You can feel the hint of armor under his tunic and it does little to quell your fears.

“Clearly there’s a lot on your mind. And... I’m probably not the person to help you through this. If you want to talk about not belonging though, I’m free to listen. I’m the only one here who’s not a Link, if you haven’t noticed.” You try to joke but it falls a little flat. “You though... You belong here with all of us... all of them... And if you need more convincing then I’m bringing this up with Legend who’s is over the moon proud of you and what you can do and he told me himself that he couldn’t be happier to have you as his successor-”

“Really?”

“Not in those exact words admittedly,-” You gulp as the word vomit continues to bubble out of you in waves of panic. “-but I know that’s what he meant because he doesn’t stop talking about how cool you are.”

“Hm.”

“And everyone has a different background, ok? Everyone has skills and people that the others don’t have. That’s ok. It’s not a competition. I get worried that one day you guys are going to create some game out of all your trauma. Like... who had it worse and just go around in a circle listing off all the things that happened to each of you... Whoever runs out of things to say or can’t think of something as bad or worse than the others is out. Last man standing wins.”

“Don’t give them ideas.” You feel him chuckle. It’s breathless and small and it doesn’t reach your ears despite your closeness but you feel it.

“Good thing it’s just you and me right now.” You sigh a little in relief and loosen the hug. “Look, just.....whatever you think you can’t do, just know that there is someone who is confidently doing it wrong right now. In the group or not, just keep your eyes and watch. They don’t plan on doing it better either and people are celebrating them for it. Please believe in your own excellence as much as they believe in their mediocrity.”

“Big words.”

“You’re awesome for trying. Others are not and don’t plan to. You’re already better than them.” You amend, stepping away to look him in the eye again. “The group can’t do magic like you can. That’s all you. They all have items sure but no one can do what you do... and you’re self taught, right? That’s incredible! You have just as much as a reason to be here as the others. I swear it.”

Hyrule sighs and gulps. He doesn’t believe you. It’s not enough.

You knew it wouldn’t be and it’s definitely doesn’t scratch the tip of the iceberg of the bomb he just dropped on you but... step by step. Little by little. you have a plan.

“Screw it. Let’s catch up with Wind and Warrior and get them to tell you how awesome you are, since you won’t listen to me. And if you’re still a nonbeliever then we move on to the next pair. We’ll go down the line if we have to.” You nod and grab his hand, beginning to drag him along.

He laughs after you, a little hysterical and in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

“That is not new information.” You reply, hiding your grin. “I say it’s Hyrule loving hours and I’m gonna get everyone to join.”

“You’re not joking are you.” It’s a statement. He already knows the answer.

“Nope!”

Legend

It was your turn on watch for the night. In an hour or two you were supposed to wake the Veteran for his shift and finally catch some sleep.

The others snored and slept away without a care in the world. It was just you and cackling fire that was active but you’d kill for something to help your mind get passed the boredom.

Anything but monsters or an attack that is. You’d hate to jinx your good luck so far.

In the corner of your eye, while fighting to keep your head up, you see Legend shift. Not necessarily unusual. You’re inclined to ignore it.

But then he shifts again, whimpering like he’s been hurt and a white knuckled grip on the blanket.

You still and begin to wonder what’s your level of care here.

Part of you, in kindness, wants to go wake him. The lack of sleep seems more merciful than letting him suffer a prison of his own making.

But you also don’t know how he’ll react.

You know he’d hate to be seen as weak for whatever normal reason and he’s been inclined to wake up swinging in the right circumstance.

Twilight suffered a broken nose for the whole night because he was disinclined to wake up Hyrule or take a potion.

Not you’d make the same decision and suffer the whole night in the same manner but it certainly fails to sound appealing.

Just as your about to appeal to your better nature and force yourself to go wake him before it gets worse, he shoots up into a sitting position with a strangled scream. The job seems to have been done for you- but in the worse way.

He’s breathing hard with his hand gripping his chest. Legend begins to frantically look around and slowly begins to piece together where he is and what’s happened. He never looks behind him, where you are, before running a hand through his hair a little harder than you think reasonable and getting to his feet.

You cough slightly, leaning away from the fire and back into previous position. You hadn’t realized you leaned into his direction as you watched him, inches from putting your face into the flame.

He startles at the sound and whips around, one hand poised to reach the sword he’s not equipped with.

“It’s just me.” You wave. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He calms somewhat and you can see his jaw flex. “Well, goodnight to you.”

His voice is croaked- from disuse or an overwhelming emotion, you’re not sure.

“For me maybe. But you? That was quite a scare you gave me as well.” You play it off. You can at least pretend that you weren’t watching him. That you would have saved him a little earlier and took your sweet time doing it. You offer a peace offering to your morals. “Want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” He snaps, furiously rubbing his face. “It’s nothing new. We all deal with it one way or another.”

“True. But it’ll be easier to let it go, and let the experience float up into the air and never return. Otherwise it’ll fester and grow.” You shrug. “But I won’t force you. I know you’re not exactly fond of me.”

Legend glares into the fire as you talk and refuses to look at you. Once you finish though, he moves his head away, still not in your direction but visually drops more tension from his shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything.

“There’s a spot next to me with your name on it if you want it.” You offer. “A little company wouldn’t hurt.”

He takes more time to respond and you resolve to go back to staring at the fire.

A moment or two passes and you hear the faint sound of crunched foliage. It takes of your will power to not look up as he approaches and even more so when he decidedly sits next to you.

The fabric of his tunic brushes your leg for a minute and it strikes you odd that he sat that close despite the rest of the log at his disposal.

It must have been bad if he wants to be close to someone right after. The thought enters your mind. Once it’s there you don’t chase it away and instead casually lean back with your hand behind you.

If the angle causes you to lean closer to him in the process, you don’t say anything.

And if Legend notices, he doesn’t say anything either.

A moment of time passes in silence, the only sounds through the whole forest are crickets and a passing owl with the occasional whisper through the trees.

“How do you do it?” He asks.

“Do what?” You tilt your head in his direction.

He’s still not looking at you.

“Keep going.”

The answer shocks momentarily but you’re not surprised that it’s coming from him out of the whole group. “Legend-”

“I’m tired.” He says instead. “I hate this. I hate that sword. I hate that pig demon. I hate that I can’t be done.”

You hand comes up to his shoulder and you force him to look at you.

He lets you and he looks up to you with tears building up in his eyes and for a moment you’re struck by the odd balance of how old he sounds but how young he looks- is.

You stuck floundering for a response to answer him with but he asks one more thing. “Why can’t I be done?”

You pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. “I don’t know. I don’t know Link.”

You find yourself wanting to cry as well once Legend collapses into the hug. He’s not hugging you back but he’s being held for the first time in... you don’t know how long. Your grip tightens.

“But I do know is that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And maybe....maybe this is the final fight. That’s why we’re all together right? A darkness so evil ahead that every hero is required and then....rest. For each and every one of you.”

You sniffle, carding your fingers through his hair without a moments hesitation. “If it’s not then I’ll fight everything for you from then on. I’ll take your place you hear me. I’ll take your job and title and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

“I’m the Hero of Legend. That’s not exactly an easy thing-”

“No. I am the hero now. I’ve decided it.” You hide the tears in his hair to the best of your ability.

Legend snorted, loud and wet but you elected to ignore it just as you were ignoring the ever growing wet spot on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It does now. I said so.”

A beat.

“...Ok.” He sniffled and rubbed his head on your shirt. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the night take over the atmosphere again. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He nods once, definitive and final. Your expecting him to let go now and return to his roll, already electing to take over his shift as well and just push through the next day.

Except he doesn’t.

Legend calls your name, testing the waters and lifts his head up ever so slightly. “...It’s not that I’m... not... fond of you-”

“Save it for a rainy day.” You grin. “I think you’ve had your fill of emotions for the night.”

He nods and eventually slips into sleep with his head on your chest, no doubt lulled by your heartbeat.

With tearful eyes, you stare back into the fire.

Time

Time marched from the stunned group the same way a parent does after making a scathing remark instead of a lecture.

You know the one.

“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”

The poor boys suddenly didn’t know what to so with themselves or how to get back into Time’s good graces.

You felt for them and their awkward meandering through the camp. So, with your pride swallowed, you follow in the vague direction where Time went off to and decided to at least talk him down.

He is... decidedly harder to find than you previous imagined.

Just as your starting to think the Old Man doesn’t want to be found, you hear subtle swing. It’s to your left and it sounds heavy.

So naturally you follow it

Which leads you to a small clearing just beyond a bunch of bushes.

Time is there, full armor still on and swinging his giant sword forcefully, each swing stronger than the last. It’s as if it weighs only as much as Four. You’ve wondered in the past what it would like if he decided to actually throw the smallest ones of the group but out of fear, do not voice your ideas.

Just because Time won’t doesn’t mean that the others won’t try.

It’s hard being the responsible one when there are nine Links to take care of, each as much as a gremlin as the last. It must be hell on Time’s back to carry the group.

You see where he’s coming from and yet...

“You can stand to be a little more patient with them.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can actually stop them.

Time stops abruptly, in both the figurative and literal sense, before the man turns to you with that same face of neutral disappointment.

“They are heroes.”

“They are also children, Time. I think that it’s because they are heroes that they deserve to act their age every now and then.”

“Slacking won’t divert the evil away from our home.”

“Running face first into the problem won’t solve it either.” You sigh and walk up the man. He tenses as you approach and slowly lets his weapon down. The Hero of Time is an intimidating creature but you refuse to let that dissuade you.

“Look, I know why you’re upset. I get it. It’s hard to get a job done when you feel like you’re the only one it’s important to... But have a little faith in our group. Please.” You plead and stop right in front of him. You have to look up at him slightly due to the angle but he was forced to acknowledge you here.

His arms cross and he opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off.

“You’re right, they are heroes and there is a job to be done and an evil to be done away with. But they were even younger when they earned the title. They still vanquished the darkness even for their age. You have to trust that they will do the same here.” You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, getting onto your tip toes to look him in the eye better. “And they will. Because they are heroes. Because they have the spirit of courage. Because they are Link... Just like you.”

He softens his stance ever so slightly but he still doesn’t look pleased.

“It’s not easy I know.” You get down again. “But they look up to you. I think all of them do. And I can’t stand to see how hurt they look when you get upset when they act their age. It’s not like they can help it.”

He takes a deep breath and uncrossed his arms. He takes a minute to respond. Time stared at you intensely before he drops all the tension in his body and finally lets his weapon go. A single hand comes up to pat your head.

“Let’s head back to camp.”

He says nothing else and continues to walk past you and back the way you came.

You don’t ignore the sense of accomplishment and refuse to dampen it when you catch the tiniest slivers of a smile before he turns away from you completely.

Wind

You’re lying peacefully on the dirt when you hear someone sit beside you with more power than would ever be needed.

You don’t open your eyes for the sake of the other person, not really thinking much of it and even forgetting that they were there until you heard the smallest of sniffles.

Now, you’re sitting straight up with wide and concerned eyes locking directly onto the crying form of your beloved pirate.

It’s hard not to feel for him and while you’re not sure what sprung this up, you don’t have it in you to turn him away, or to ignore that he was upset.

Neither of you say anything and you’re almost afraid it make the picture in front of you a little too real.

Instead, you move yourself closer to him and open up your arms.

Wind doesn’t hesitate to throw himself onto you and let his body sag with unwanted emotion.

As sobs silently rack his body, you begin to feel yourself rock back and forth for both his comfort and yours. Soon you start running your hands through his hair and rub small circles on his back.

He cries for a long time and never once gives you a clue why.

You don’t ask either.

Still, once the moment has passed, you continue to hold onto him. He doesn’t make any moves to let go of you any time soon and you’re happy to be there for as long as he’ll let you.

That doesn’t stifle your concern over the cause but you’re loath to bring it up.

Minutes pass with the boy in your arms and it’s only when you shift positions, does he look up at your face. His eyes aren’t as red anymore with the amount of time that’s passes since he’s stopped crying but his face is still a little puffy and his cheeks are both stained in tears and incredibly red.

A small smile creeps onto your face when you look back at him. “Feel better?”

“A little.” He admits and sniffles the last of the tears away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Thanks.”

“For you? Anytime.”

Warrior

It struck you as odd that it was dinner time the group seemed to be missing someone.

Earlier that day the group had split up to take down some troublesome monsters on the border of some tiny town defenseless town and that was that.

It didn’t seem like big deal nor was it a particularly hard thing to do. The monsters weren’t infected and they didn’t have numbers on their side so your group took care of the pests in a matter of moments.

And yet, when everyone regrouped there was a visible tension.

Some thing had happened on the other side of the fight and no one wanted to fess up, even less so when Time mentioned it.

It worried you.

Now, as it stood the tension was still there but Warrior didn’t want to come out of the wood work. He had left earlier claiming to need to check up on his appearance and no one had questioned him. No one offered to go with him.

It was always dangerous to go alone.

“Hey, has anyone seen Warrior?” You glance around again, hoping it was just a miscount on your part. “It’s been awhile since he left.”

“He takes his sweet time.” Legend snapped. “And you know how narcissistic he is. He’s probably trying to get every single little hair in the right place and working out every little blemish in his stupid uniform-”

“I’m going to look to him.” You stand, placing your cooling food down by your foot. You don’t know what happened or what caused it but at least an idea begins to form. “It’s been too long regardless. Keep my food warm for me, yeah?”

You don’t wait for a response and walk away into the tree line where you think Warrior might be.

“It’s getting dark. Be careful.” Someone calls from behind you, mouth clearly full of food.

“Yes sir.” You reply.

You march on.

When you’re sure you’re far enough away, you begin to call out to Warrior.

It takes a minute to get any results but you’re starting to worry about your friend. The sun is lowering in the horizon as time goes by and you’re beginning to feel silly and frustrated and-

“I’m here.” A tired voice replies.

“Oh thank goodness.” You cross the distance between you two. “I was really starting to worry.”

Warrior puts on a brave face and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes greets you when you stop in front of him. His look a little puffy and you think his eyes might be a little red but it easily be the lighting- or lack there of.

“Are you ok?”

“Obviously.”

You doubt him and it must have shown on your face because he immediately begins walking away. “Well look at the time. Crazy how fast the sun goes. Let’s get back to the group and eat. I’m starving-”

You grab his wrist as he pasts you and get a good look at him. “Are you ready to go back to the group? They can wait a little longer if you want them too.”

It irritated you that it’s come to this. How no one went to check on him. How no one offered to go with you. How no one seemed bothered by this. How long that he was alone dealing with something that’s been bothering him. How it took you so long to do something.

“No. It’s fine.” He says. Lying. It must have really bothered him, usually he’s better than this. “It’s about time to head back anyway.”

“They can wait.” Your grip tightens. “The sun can wait. We’re not obligated to be there. What’s wrong? ...If you want to talk about it that is...” You trail off uselessly. It only occurred to you that near the end that he may not even speak about with you. You weren’t the closest in terms of grouping but you can’t stand the thought of someone hurting alone.

“I’m fin-”

“You look like you were crying.” You cut him off. “If you don’t want to talk about it with me, that’s fine, just say it. But you might need more time before you head back anyway if you actually want them to believe you when you say you’re fine.”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

“Warrior?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“If it bothers you then it’s not nothing.” You push. “But....fine. I won’t force you to talk to me. I just wanted to see if you were ok... You’re not but it’s better than seeing you bleeding I suppose.” You grit your teeth, annoyed by the lack of results. You did tell him that he didn’t have to talk to you and you don’t hurt him further but part of you wants to fix this. Even if you don’t know what it is, your heart calls for justice at his pain.

But he is unwilling.

“Camp is this way by the way.” You mention, looking at the ground. “You were actually farther away than I thought, so it’s a bit of a walk.”

“I just think it’s easier for people when I’m not around.”

You still and slowly turn to face him.

He’s looking at the ground as well, unable to say it and look you in the eye. It’s not what you were expecting and you’re not sure how to follow after that.

It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him- even rarer that he’s showing it to you and you don’t want to squander the show of trust.

“Back home...there was a lot of... attention on me. A lot of blame... for starting the war. Or at least being the cause of it.” He admits, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. A little bit kicks up and sticks to the toe. He does nothing about it. “People listened to what I had to say because I was some destined hero. At first I didn’t think anything of it because I had thought it was one big mistake and sooner or later people were going to see that I was just some soldier not worth the time of day. It happened to be pure luck that Impa got it right when she gave me this uniform. Zelda made me a captain because of it and suddenly I had all of these men I had to give orders to. And if anything failed or if we lost, it would all have fallen on me. The blame, the guilt, the responsibility of the war...and then we found out why Cia was even opening these portals to begin with-”

You hug him.

“Please don’t cry.” You say into his chest. Your throat is tight and it a little hard to breath but you power through. “I’m not good at this. I never have been.”

“I’m not going to cry. It’s not worth crying.”

“I’ll cry for you then.” You admit and hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was no ones fault.” Warrior hugs you back and rests his head on top of yours. His voice seems a little tight too and you’re sorry for all the things that he must have gone through.

You hug him for as long as you deem appropriate before letting your arms go lack and stepping away.

Or... at least you try to.

Warrior suddenly has a grip on you and refuses to let you leave.

“Please... Just stay a little longer.”

You do.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #I had no idea where exactly to go with this one #believe it or not I wrote Legends first.#I didn't know it would get as long as it did #are these a bit generic?#yes.#warrior's is also very long #sorry not sorry #should I have split this one?#probably.#did I?#no.#it took days ya'll #next time I'll split it again

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

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Bent, not broken 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; fingering, mean Steve

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Here’s part 3. Right now I’m bouncing between things but open to suggestion for the upcoming week for ongoing series. (I’ll likely just add onto my Lee fic).

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The days passed like a pendulum, swinging between paranoia and suffocating tension. You felt like an animal caught and caged. Much of your time was spent in that room, abed and alone. Your only contact was when Steve brought you your meals but the soldat did not appear again. You were relieved not to have the silent watchdog around but it also made you uneasy.

The pain dulled. Your shoulder loosened up first and no longer sent a jolt down your arm every time you moved. Your ribs were another issue and even as the agony was less intense and consuming, the echo of the injury remained. You felt brittle as if one wrong move would break you completely.

Then, when the pain was not so strong to distract you, you grew restless. The walls seemed closer together and the meals further apart. Steve’s appearances were brief and mostly wordless. He’d linger to check on your injury or bark at you to eat, but he wasn’t as talkative as your first day in the hideaway.

There was little for you to do. You were left with a copy of War and Peace and the tight font often left your eyes fuzzy and fatigued, your mind as well. There was a booth hidden behind the narrow door and you washed when you felt up to it, the water ice cold. You spent much of your time staring at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse on you.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was all methodical. The indifferent isolation. You were being conditioned like a dog with a bell and it was working. You longed for any contact, any company, and conversation.

That day, the door opened but you didn’t move. You laid with your head on the pillow, arms crossed, and one leg over the other. Steve placed the metal bowl on the nightstand and sighed as he stood by the bed. You felt him watching you as you ignored him for the pale white above.

“Sit up and eat,” he said.

You glanced at him. The scar through his eye wrinkled as he grimaced and tapped his fingers on the table. You shrugged at him and sighed.

“I’m not hungry,” you said.

“Eat,” he repeated.

“I will,” you relented, “when I feel like it.”

“Now,” he grabbed the bowl and put it over your chest, “come on.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up and took the bowl. His eyes clung to you as you bent your legs and stirred the thick oats. The goopy mixture made a gross noise as you did.

“You don’t like it?” he said.

“Bland,” you took a bite, “doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” he rebuked, “you better be done by the time I return.”

You looked at him as he turned away and headed for the door abruptly. You choked down the thick porridge and took another bite. You were hungry but the pasty oatmeal went down like rocks.

When he came back, you scooped up the last mouthful and put the bowl aside. He neared and draped a lilac dress by your legs. You stared at it then looked him in the face. His expression was as impenetrable as the mountain compound.

“What is that?” you asked dully.

“Don’t be stupid and put it on,” he put his hand on his hip, “I’d say it’s a bit more fitting than that prison uniform.”

“Is it?” you grumbled as you tentatively reached for the purple fabric.

“Or you can go naked,” he reached out and jabbed your shoulder.

“Fine,” you turned your legs over the bed and watched him expectantly.

He raised a brow and waited. You shied away at his unflinching stare and swiped up the dress. You crawled to the other side and kept your back to him. You took off the shapeless shirt and dropped it behind you. You pulled on the dress and stood, pushing down the baggy bottoms. The dress floated at mid thigh and left you feeling exposed.

“Your ribs are healing,” he remarked, “you should be able to take the bandage off.”

You faced him as he went to the foot of the bed. He waved you over and continued to the door.

“Should get the kinks out,” he said as he set his thumb in the sensor and the metal slid up, “a proper tour is in order.”

You neared as he turned and waited for you to precede him. As you passed, his eyes slipped down your body and he tilted his head. You looked away quickly and carried on into the hallway. There was little point resisting a man who could break you in two with his pinky, especially in your state.

“Looks good,” he said as he followed you out and came up arm to arm with you, “you know, you, me, the soldier, we’re the only ones who know about this place. Not that you know much, huh?”

“I don’t like games,” you retorted, “I’m… tired. Please, don’t--”

“I found this place in 1955,” he led you along the shining halls, “it’s had a facelift since then. A hobby on the side. Used to be Stalin’s hideout, akin to Hitler’s bunker if anything ever went south. When he died, the co-ordinates were lost. They sent me out to find it…”

“They? Hydra? Why--”

“Because the other guys didn’t care,” Steve said, “I saw how they celebrated my death as some patriotic feat. Like I was just a shield. You know, the ‘bad guys’, at least they don’t try to lie about what you are. They use you exactly like they need to and don’t sugar coat it.”

“And your… friend… you like how they use him?”

Steve stopped short and caught your arm, “it’s best for him. He couldn’t handle a clear mind. We keep each other safe, like we always did.”

“Mmm,” you hummed.

“As I was saying,” he nudged you onward, “I gave them a fake map and all they found was a demolished bunker. It kept them happy and me too. I got a place to lay low. Place of my own.”

You turned down the next hall. You were quiet as he led you along, past that room with the bar and around another corner. You lost sense of direction as he took you deeper into the hideaway. You came into a large corridor with a glass wall that overlooked a mountain pass without. You were breathless as you stopped to peer through.

“He’ll hurt you again,” Steve said bluntly, “we both know that.”

“Then why keep me here? You can let me go. I wouldn’t say a word, I wouldn’t even know what to say--”

“And why would I do that?” he asked blithely as he admired the deep drop and jagged offshoots.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s much more fun to keep you,” he chuckled, “and he wanted you so taking you away won’t do shit.”

“I don’t--”

He raised his finger and hushed you. He squinted as he listened but you didn’t hear anything but the winds on the other side of the glass. Steve’s mouth slanted and he stepped past you. You turned to the end of the corridor and heard a soft padding that grew to a tremulous stomp.

“Speak of the devil,” Steve taunted, “sounds like a rough mission.”

When the soldier emerged from the next hall, you gasped. His face was a smear of grit and blood, his locks dangling and slick around his mask. His gear was torn and gashed in places and his metal fist clenched as the plates of his arm bore even more scratches than before.

He stopped and his eyes dilated as he saw you. Steve went to him calmly and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re back,” he said softly, “snap out of it.”

He tapped the mask so the soldat looked at him instead. Their eyes met as the soldier’s chest puffed and slowed. Steve’s other hand went to his chest, just over his heart. The captain leaned in and kissed his temple, issuing a whisper you could not hear.

You were too shocked and confused to do more than watch. Steve gripped Bucky’s jaw and turned his gaze onto you. He smirked as he held him.

“Look at her,” he slithered, “isn’t that what you wanted? A pretty little plaything.”

The soldat didn’t move, just stared.

“She’s all ready for you,” Steve let go and clapped his chest, “isn’t that a nice dress, huh? A nice peek of her legs… don’t you want to know what’s underneath? Don’t you want to touch it?”

You took a step back as goose bumps rose on your skin. Steve released him and snickered. The soldat brought one boot down and then the next, marching slowly towards you.

“Let’s have some fun,” Steve boomed and his eyes narrowed over Bucky’s soldier, “soldat, engage.”

His next step came down quicker and you spun on your heel. Without thinking, you dashed away in a blur of terror. You could hear him behind you, the heavy soles thunderous against the slap of your bare feet. You got around the next corner and your ribs throbbed painfully as your lungs burned.

You peeked over your shoulder. He wasn’t running, he was walking. A mock of a chase as he kept within sight even as you raced on. Your heart pounded in your ears and your legs felt like jelly. It was so long since you did more than pace your room or lay in bed.

You stumbled deep in the maze, all recollection of the path Steve led you on gone. You hit your knees on the hard floor and hissed. You had only a moment to gulp down air before you were seized by the back of your neck. You staggered as you were spun and your back collided with the cold wall.

The soldier’s metal hand was quick to grasp your throat and push your chin up as he held you on tiptoes. You clawed at his fingers as his other hand crept up your thigh. Your eyes watered as it felt like a vice was wrapped around your neck and chest. You quivered as the skirt caught on his hand and slowly rose with his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around his fingers and he poked you so harshly you whimpered. Your legs parted for him and he pushed against your bare cunt. You clung to his wrist as your other hand slapped at his bicep. His blue eyes focused on your skirt as he delved between your folds.

Your feet arched as you tried not to slip and your calves cramped. You whined through your teeth as he turned his hand and pressed the heel of his palm to your clit. He bent his finger into you and drew a pathetic yipe from you. He felt around inside and added another, eliciting another tremulous yelp.

“Pl.. please,” you rasped, “don’t… you don’t want to…” his eyes flicked up and met yours.

He paused as he gazed back at you and you squirmed. He hesitated and for a moment, it felt like he might drop you. Another set of footsteps approached evenly and Steve tutted as he came upon the scene.

“You shouldn’t play with your food,” he said, “go on. You know what you want to do. It’s why you took her.”

You choked as his fingers tightened and he buried himself to his knuckles, his hand firm to your clit. He rocked his hand and your body, every tilt sending a jolt through you. Your walls were scoured by his intrusion and your core thrummed at the distant stirring of instinct.

“Please…” you cried.

“Shhh,” Steve came closer and leaned on the wall next to you, “we don’t want him to break something else.”

“Wh-why--” you coughed.

“Faster,” Steve snarled, “make her feel it.”

The soldier lifted you off your feet with each dip of his fingers. You slapped your hand against the wall and reached for the captain. He swatted your hand away and backed up as he watched you. He rounded Bucky and peered at you from the other side and hummed. He sucked his teeth and came closer, his hand on the soldier’s shoulder.

“More,” he urged.

You closed your eyes and shrieked as his hand sped up, slamming into you over and over as your thighs clamped around him. You gritted your teeth as your pulse raced and you were swept up in a sudden fit of dizziness. You felt fire flickering from his touch, building and building a spark at a time as your body rebelled.

“Look at her,” Steve purred, “so weak, so small. Nothing. She’s not like us, she’s just one of them.”

You groaned as your cunt made slick noises around Bucky’s fingers and his hot breath glossed over you. He leaned in and his hand moved so that his thumb pressed along your jaw painfully. You whined as you felt as if he’d crush the bone.

“She’s almost there,” Steve mused, “faster, yeah, like that.”

You wailed as you came, terrified of the man before you and the way your body bent to him. Your nails grazed down the leather across his chest and your hand dangled limply as you let the tide wash over you. He kept on until you could hardly breathe and dropped you suddenly. Your legs folded and you crashed to the floor.

You kept yourself from keeling over onto your face and pushed your back against the wall. You peeked up as Steve took Bucky’s hand and licked his glistening fingers. You cringed as he let go and his attention turned on you. He knelt and exhaled deeply as he smirked at you.

“You want to know why?” he blinked and his nose scrunched sardonically, “because I didn’t want this. I was happy. Just me and him. Decades and he decides to go out and catch a pet.”

“No, I…” you rubbed your throat as it burned.

“Him, I know, but it doesn’t hurt any less,” Steve scowled, “but we can make it work.” He reached to you and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “I can make use of you. Just the way you took his fingers, that look on your face…” he retracted his hand and leaned his elbow on his leg, “and he could use an outlet. Something to ease the tension.”

“You… and him?” you wondered aloud.

“It’s the twenty-first century, isn’t it?” Steve stood and slapped the soldier’s ass. He got a sharp look in response, “not that it ever really mattered.”

“It’s not… I just didn’t… realise,” you rasped.

“Mhmm,” Steve intoned, “you’re just innocent.”

“I didn’t--”

“Get her up,” he ordered, “take her to our room and get her cleaned up. You too. You smell.”

You flinched as the soldier grabbed your arm and forced you up. Your thighs quaked in the after shock and your core ached. He pulled you away from Steve and you limped beside him. You shivered as the cold air enshrined your hot flesh.

“No touching,” the captain warned, “not until I say so.”

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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I Need You | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! Here’s another Mikaelson Brother’s fic. This time it’s a firefighter AU. I don’t know why I was so inspired but oh well, here it is anyway. Please do ignore the blatant plot holes and dropped plot points. I wrote this purely for the fluff so the rest doesn’t matter too much! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Until next time, all my love!

Description: The brothers are firefighters and they come back to the station after a long day only to find an unconscious woman in their fire station. It turns out she’s their mate and she's seconds from death. From there it’s pure fluff/smut. Honestly the plot of this is weak, I just wanted something majorly fluffy.

Pairing: Female!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! It’s not a full blown smut but it does get heated. It’s hella light smut. Honestly the warning should read something more like “inappropriate actions for on duty firefighters towards a civilian at the workplace”. Take into mind that I do not condone this behaviour outside of my fics but that they are soulmates and it’s all consensual! The other warning is angst. This is super graphic at the beginning but after that it gets better.

Word count: 7.3k

Tags: Angst, smut, fluff

P.S. This is only in the boys’ perspectives for like five nanoseconds, after that it’s completely in the reader’s

Tag list: @activist-af @corishirogane3

(Pictures not mine, mood board is!)

“Remind me, Elijah,” Klaus runs a hand through his hair, shaking some of the soot from his blonde hair, “why we decided to do this again?”

Elijah huffs indignantly, also shaking out his hair and shrugging the heavy coat off his shoulders. His hoodie underneath is soaked through with sweat and it follows the same path. Klaus already stands in just a t-shirt, the navy material glued to his skin.

“Don’t you remember, brother?” Kol hops out of the truck from behind the wheel, his bare chest exposed, spare the straps keeping the bottom half of his turnout gear on, a cheerful grin on his lips, “He wanted us to give back to the community. I believe his exact words were firefighters or soldiers.”

It’s true, Elijah had wanted them to do something meaningful with their lives. Well, with a fraction of their lives. He wanted them to be a family again and what better way to do that than to take on a career built on teamwork. Honestly, he had expected them to last maybe six months before quitting but now they were three years deep and he couldn’t see them going anywhere for a while. Somehow station 32 in small town Virginia had become a home base for them.

Elijah leans against the brick of the old fire station, closing his eyes for a moment, “just be happy I didn’t suggest doing both.”

“What makes you think I would follow you to war,” Klaus laughs but it’s hollow, the strain of the day settling over his bones.

They haven’t had a day this strenuous in months, sixteen calls in one day and it’s only eight. Human or not, that’s a lot of heavy lifting. Klaus would do anything for some sleep. He sags against the wall next to his brother. Despite the sleep tugging at his body he can’t seem to relax. Something is keeping his spine rigid, something he can’t quite place his mind on. Oh well.

Elijah chuckles, his eyes still shut, “you followed me here didn’t you? Face it, you needed this as much as I did.”

Klaus doesn’t speak, he just hums his agreement, something entirely unlike him but brought on from the exhaustion. His shoulders remain tight, his muscles stiff. The air feels like it's buzzing lightly, charged with something he doesn’t have enough energy to think about.

Kol laughs through his own fatigue, stretching his arms behind him, ignoring the way his bones click slightly, “I, for one, need a shower. I smell like flames and I hate it. I suggest you two do the same,” he turns from his slumped brothers, “I can smell you from here.”

Elijah pulls himself from the wall, rolling his shoulders and peeling his eyes open, “come on, Niklaus, you can take a nap for a few hours. I doubt the rest of the night will be eventful, half the town should be asleep by now.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The two brothers catch up with Kol easily, grabbing their discarded gear on the way and heading towards the locker room. Kol is the first to step through the door, adamant on jumping in the shower before his brothers take all the hot water like they usually do, when he stops suddenly, all of his senses on high alert. Something is wrong, terribly so. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, catching the faintest hint of sweetness, like vanilla and oranges, mingled with something sharper. Something too familiar.

“Kol, what are you-” Elijah doesn’t get to finish his thought.

“Blood,” Klaus pushes past both of them, his eyebrows furrowed, “I smell blood. Someone’s here.”

Kol nods and steps further into the room, directly followed by Klaus and Elijah. As they push forward, towards the showers, the scent of fresh blood intensifies. So does the vanilla citrus perfume, magnifying and tangling around each brother. The room is electrified because of it, drawing them quicker to the heart of the locker room. The distinct sound of three heartbeats fills the room, each one louder than the last. Thump, thump, thump.

When they turn the corner they freeze, each heart skipping a beat in the same moment. There, in the middle of the showers, is an unconscious woman. A naked, unconscious woman slumped over in a pool of her own blood. Her body is battered, more blue and black than any other color. Who knew a vampire's blood could turn as cold as theirs is right now?

“Fuck,” Kol’s voice is the first to break the tension, dropping to his knees with a dull thud, his heart strings snapping violently in his chest, “fuck!”

Klaus is in front of her in a flash, his teeth ripping into his wrist without a second thought. Kol turns his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. There’s no way he can watch this. The sweet smell wraps around him, taunting him almost. The overwhelming sense of loss wraps around him like a noose, his throat closing harshly. Why now, why like this?

“Is that,” Elijah, too, sinks to the ground, his hands splayed against the concrete, his eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of him, “is that who I think it is?”

His muscles tighten, an indescribable pain rippling through his entire body. He feels like he’s drowning. No, like he’s burning alive. Fuck, it feels like both at the same time. He wants to scream but no sounds are surfacing. This can’t be happening!

Kol’s voice is sharp and cracked, too many emotions to decipher leaking into his words, “yeah, it’s her. It’s our mate.”

Klaus presses his bleeding wrist to her mouth hard, tears streaming freely down his face. He couldn’t care less about how he looks, not right now. Not when it feels like someone is ripping his heart straight from his chest.

“Come on, love. Wake up. I need you! Wake up!”

* * * * * *

“Wake up. I need you! Wake up!”

You tear your eyes open suddenly, bright lights flooding your senses. You gasp as you regain consciousness, something that you realize too late is a mistake. Your mouth is filled with a thick, hot substance, one much too metallic and familiar for your liking, that you inhale by accident. It fills your lungs quickly, your chest burning, and you roll over, hacking up mouthfuls of the disgusting fluid. It feels like your entire body is engulfed in flames. Like you’re dying twice.

The concrete is freezing against your fiery arms and, when it finally blurs into focus, you realize it’s also covered in a deep red liquid. You run your tongue over your mouth, the tang making your eyes widen. Your heart stutters as you finally come to an understanding. Blood. The floor is covered in blood. Your blood. This time you vomit, and almost scream when you see it matches the liquid around you.

“Shit,” a voice sounds from behind you as a pair of hands slides over your back, startling you further into the sticky redness, “holy shit you’re awake. Oh thank god!”

You flinch away from the hands, turning too quickly to face whoever it is behind you. Mistake number two. The walls start spinning around you and you have to grasp the wet stone beneath you and close your eyes for a moment. When you finally open them again you’re met with a pair of warm, brown eyes. Your heart stutters again, but you don’t have time to wonder why you don’t feel as afraid this time.

“Who are you? What the hell is going on?” you run your eyes over him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “I don’t- where am I?”

Each of your senses are on high alert, your heart beating so loud you’re afraid it’s going to jump out of your chest, as you allow yourself to finally take in your surroundings. You're in a shower room of sorts, with rows of lockers on your one side and the tiled rows of shower stalls on the other. The smell of fresh blood hits you full force and you almost vomit again. You suck in a deep breath, ignoring the burning in your lungs as you try to force the feeling away. Your eyes catch some writing on the wall; Station 32. You look back to the man in front of you, zeroing in on his navy t-shirt with the same logo.

What the hell are you doing at a fire station?

He shifts closer to you and you stiffen. A pained expression laces across his face and your chest stings, worse than it did when you were coughing up the blood. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them again there’s a sheen of tears. You swallow thickly, your own tears forming at the sight of his. What on earth is happening?

He sits back on his knees and runs a red hand through his blonde hair, maring the light strands with blood. You tense further at the sight. For some reason you want to stop him from spreading more of the blood over him. He’s already kneeling in a puddle of it, and his arms are soaked, painted in a cruel crimson. Even his t-shirt is drenched. You grind your teeth together, your jaw clenching harshly. He places both his hands on the floor and takes another few inches towards you.

His movements are slow as if not to startle you, “hey, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’m Klaus, I’m a firefighter here. You’re at station 32, Lexington, Virginia.”

His voice is heavy with emotion, making what you can only assume is a strong british accent even stronger. Your heart tugs harshly when he speaks, begging you to move closer to him. You wrap your arms around yourself, ignoring the increasingly sticky feeling over your entire body. You can’t stop a few tears from slipping down your cheeks.

“How did I get here?”

A new voice, one just as accented and gravelly, pulls your attention from Klaus, “we aren’t sure, darling. We just got back ourselves. Gave us quite a shock, actually. How much do you remember?”

Your eyes wander around the blonde and land on two more men, two brunettes. You lock eyes with each of them, your heat racing once more. You suck in a breath at the wave of emotions that hit you. Sadness, confusion, longing, comfort. Love. It all hits you at once and you have to close your eyes before the room starts spinning again. When you open them again, they’re closer. Far enough to keep you from tensing, settled next to Klaus.

You tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling very exposed. One of the men, the one with dark brown hair cut close to his head and concerned brown eyes, notices and wastes no time pulling the t-shirt from his chest and settling it on your knees. It’s warm and a touch damp but you don’t mind, gratefully shuffling it over your head and passing him a grateful nod. It lands mid thigh, circling you in a heady wood scent. Your cheeks flame as you try not to lean down and smell it directly. When you look back at him his eyes are glinting.

“I’m not sure,” you press your palms against your eyes and immediately regret it, the stickiness now smeared on your cheeks and eyelids, “I don’t remember much. Only bits and pieces from this morning but nothing after that. Wait, is that normal? God, why can’t I remember anything!”

All of a sudden you’re panicking and the room begins shrinking, at least it feels like it is. You can’t breathe, your lungs constricting painfully. There isn’t enough oxygen in the room. Was there ever enough? You’re racking your mind for any little thing that you can remember but it’s pointless, you’re going too fast and your mind can’t make sense of anything you’re seeing. You see a sink, one covered in blood. You see teeth. No, you see fangs. You smell the forest, one heavy with pine trees. None of it makes sense!

You claw maniacally at your chest, trying to suck in enough air to clear the fog in your head. Nothing is helping, your body is on fire and sticky and you just want to scream until it all makes sense. The shirt feels three sizes too small and you want to tear it over your head. Just before you can, though, you’re pulled onto someone's lap, someone who smells like pure water, and you can finally suck in a proper breath. The flames that were lapping your skin slowly start to fade, giving over to a cool sensation that soothes your achy bones.

“Deep breaths, love,” Klaus’ voice washes over you like a lullaby, his hands rubbing down your back, “that’s good, just like that. We’re going to figure this out but for now you just have to breathe. You’re safe now, I promise you that. We can start with an easy one, what’s your name?”

You sink into his chest more easily than you would like to admit. His arms circle you tighter, his head resting on yours in an entirely unprofessional way but you don’t care. You’ve never felt this kind of need before. You’re afraid that if you leave his arms now then the flames will come back.

“Y/n,” you murmur into his shoulder, “my name is y/n.”

A pair of hands rub over your shoulders, drawing you into them slightly on instinct, “darling, I know you’re scared but we need to see if you’re seriously hurt. We found you in a lot of blood,” whoever is speaking his voice is rough and he has to stop to clear his throat, muttering a curse under his breath, “do you think you can let us check you over?”

When he brings up the blood, it’s all you can smell again, and you scramble from Klaus’ arms, narrowly making it before you’re vomiting again. This time you don’t puke up any blood, thank god. Just bile, which isn’t much better. The metallic scent is all around you and it’s all you can do to hang your head and suck in as much air as possible. You feel so dizzy it physically hurts.

“Shit, Elijah we gotta get this cleaned up. It’s only making it worse. C’mere love,” you’re pulled into the warm chest of a man you’ve yet to interact with.

You lock eyes with the last man, losing your breath at his honey brown eyes. He smiles softly and you feel your cheeks go hot. You bring your hands to your lips quickly, all too aware of how close you are to this man and the fact that you were just throwing up and are soaked through with blood. You blink back a few tears, embarrassment streaming through you. You glance down at his chest which is now covered in your blood. The man furrows his brows, shaking his head lightly. You can almost hear his thoughts; don’t worry.

Elijah, the man who gave you his shirt, nods at Klaus, standing quickly, “you two take her to the captain’s bathroom, it’s nicer anyway and more private. I’m not expecting anyone else tonight but I’d rather them not see her like this,” he turns, locking eyes with you, his rough tone softening drastically, “baby, are you okay if they help you clean this blood off? They’re not going to hurt you, we just need to get you cleaned up and warm to make sure you don’t go back into shock.”

The word baby rings through your head, hitting you directly in the chest. Tendrils of warmth unfurl through your body and you find yourself nodding to everything he says. Elijah sags, relief taking over his body. It doesn’t last long though, the tension filling his frame as he looks back around the room.

“Kol,” the man under you tenses, “take her upstairs now. Niklaus, do you mind helping me with this? It’s-” Elijah looks at you again for a moment before he has to look away, “It’s going to take two people.”

Klaus stares at you longingly, the pained look back in his eyes. It makes you want to pull him into your arms, blood or no blood, and hold him. You tense at the thought. Where did that come from?

He looks at you a moment longer before crawling over to and running one of his stained hands over your cheek. He leans down and kisses the top of your head, rubbing his cheek against your matted hair. Sparks dance down your spine at the simple touch, lighting your body like a christmas tree. Too many emotions surface again, confusion and longing being the top contenders.

“I’ll be with you as soon as I can, love,” he whispers to you before standing himself and addressing Elijah, “yeah, let’s get this over with.”

Elijah nods at Klaus, his shoulders sagging slightly, probably out of relief again. Looking around one last time it’s obvious the job is going to take some major man-power. Thankfully the blood is contained mostly to the showers, but even so it’s coating almost every surface from there on. Looking at it makes you chest heavy again but before you can lose it Kol stands, pulling you up with him.

He holds you easily, bringing you level with Klaus and Elijah. Elijah strides over to you, taking your face in his hands. Your heart pounds mercilessly at his touch. It takes all your willpower not to jump into his arms and curl around his bare chest. You try not to stare at his taut muscles. Now is definitely not the time to let lust join the myriad of emotions running through you. Even as you force your eyes away, though, your body ignites and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs around Kol. Fucking hell, what is going on?

Kol’s arms tense suddenly and when you peak back at him, his eyes are shades darker. You swallow thickly, trying not to think too much about the heated look in his eyes. Or how much you don’t want him to stop looking at you like that. You peer back at Elijah, who holds a similar expression. You have to suck in a breath, the room temperature instantly raising ten degrees.

Elijah leans his forehead against yours, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones gently, “Kol’s going to take you upstairs now, okay baby? He’ll take care of you, help you wash some of this off. You’re in control here, alright? No one else is going to hurt you.”

You nod lightly, your forehead rubbing against his, “okay, Eli.”

He sucks in a sharp breath and presses a hard kiss to your head before releasing you. Kol shuffles you further up his body, drawing your attention to him. He grins at you but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and so warm. He sighs quietly, sinking his cheek into your touch, his eyes losing some of the tension.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, darling.”

You lower your hand, choosing now to wrap your arms around his shoulders instead. His muscles under your fingertips are glorious, warm and firm. When you rest your face against his shoulder, you breathe in the faintest hints of nutmeg and flames. It’s absolutely intoxicating. His shoulder is hot against your cheek and you finally give into your cravings to curl your body around his, wrapping your legs tightly around his torso and clinging to him for dear life. He holds you against him with everything he has, taking the steps two at a time.

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes until you feel him enter a separate room, one much smaller than the locker room you were previously in. You’re greeted with a spectacular sight; a spacious bathroom with a wall of showerheads and the biggest clawfoot tub you’ve ever seen. You almost jump from his arms at how badly you want to get in it.

He sets you down on a vast countertop, the cool marble biting into your bottom. You shiver lightly, a warm blush spreading down your neck and chest. He places his arms on either side of you, staring at you with a mixture of tenderness and caution. You have to will yourself to keep looking into his eyes and not at the way his arms flex from how he’s leaning. God, where did all these wanton feelings come from?

“Okay, darling, where are we going from here? What do you need me to do?” his accent is fuller due to the acoustics in the bathroom and you nearly keel over from how hard it slams through your body, tugging at every nerve south of your belly button.

“Um,” you clear your throat lightly, swallowing the sudden scratchiness, “do you think there’s a toothbrush anywhere around here?”

Kol grins knowingly, leaning down and opening a drawer next to your thigh. The heat rolling off his body rushes into your legs and when he resurfaces with a new toothbrush and a cheeky smile you’re practically panting.

“Thanks.”

You brush your teeth quickly, making sure to scrub the remnants of the past thirty minutes or so from your mouth. It instantly makes you feel a little better, knowing you can speak to Kol without your breath being a biohazard. You set the toothbrush down, looking back to him appreciatively.

Kol cups your chin gently, spreading heat like butter through your bones,“Do you think you can stand? If you can, I can wait outside while you get cleaned up. You can take as much time as you need, darling. I’ll be right outside the door.”

Your heart pounds quickly at his suggestion, your throat closing painfully. You don’t want him to leave you alone, even if he is just outside the door. You don’t know how to ask him to stay, though, and you don’t want to cross any boundaries. You’re so damn conflicted that your chest aches.

“Okay.”

He nods, his eyes a touch less bright than they were a few moments ago, and he backs away hesitantly. You use all your energy to push yourself off the counter, using it to keep yourself upright when your feet touch the floor. Your legs feel like jelly and you wonder for a moment if you have any bones. You shake your head lightly, scolding yourself. Don’t be stupid, y/n, of course you have bones. However, when you go to take a step towards the bathtub you almost revoke the sentiment. Your legs crumple around you, bringing you to a pile on the floor.

“Fuck,” Kol is next to you in no time at all, his hands rushing over your legs, most likely checking for damage, “I knew that was going to happen I don’t know why I let you do that, darling. I was trying to give you space. Are you okay? Elijah and Klaus are going to kill me.”

He mutters the last part under his breath but you still catch it, “it’s not your fault, I was trying not to bother you. I thought I could make it to the tub, at least, and then figure the rest out from there. I, uh,” you scrub your hands over your face, covering your eyes with your palms, “I didn’t want to be a burden, more than I already am I mean.”

A few more tears slip past your guard, tracking lines through the dried blood on your cheeks. You swallow a sob before it can make any noise, your shoulders shaking slightly from the cold tiles underneath you. You’re utterly exhausted. You wish you could just click your heels and go home. The only problem is that something tells you that you’d only end up here again if you could do that.

“No,” Kol’s voice is low and strained, “no, darling, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault,” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his hot, nutmeg chest, “you’re not a burden to me. Or Elijah or Klaus. You’re a surprise and not an unwelcome one. If you need me to stay, hell, if you want me to stay I will. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do, okay?”

You peer up at him, clinging to his toned chest like you’re afraid it’ll vanish from underneath you, “please get this blood off of me, Kol. I can’t do it, I can’t even hold myself up. I need you.”

His eyes darken again, the honeyed brown turning a darker chocolate color, “you have me, darling, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he leans down and brushes his nose against yours, “never ever.”

A tiny giggle bubbles in your chest and it feels like freedom. It feels like falling asleep on the beach and hiking through the mountains and every good thing you’ve ever experienced. Kol’s eyes light up and he bites back a grin before doing it again, pulling a flood of giggles from you. Soon you're throwing your arms around him, laughing your head off for no reason at all, him joining you in the madness. You can’t stop and you don’t want to. You need this, you need him. It frightens you how intensely you feel connected to him already but you push the fear away for the time being.

“Okay, okay,” Kol scoops you against him and stands, “enough of that, love, time for a bath.”

That effectively puts an end to your giggling, your body igniting at the thought of taking a bath with this second coming of adonis. You swallow the lump in your throat, this time caused by the rippling of his taut muscles against you. The t-shirt you’re wearing feels see through suddenly, the thin layer between your core and his stomach doing little to quell the heat seeping from the crack between your thighs.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders a little harder than you mean to, pulling a soft grunt from him, one that you can feel in your own chest, “bath. Okay.”

Your cheeks flame at your idiotic response. Bath. Okay. What the hell was that?

He walks to the tub and sets you gently on the floor of it, the porcelain ice against your flesh. He turns, his back facing you as he pulls his suspenders off. You admire the fluid movement of his muscles as he steps out of his stained turnout gear, leaving him in a pair of grey sweatpants. His back is toned like a greek god’s and you would like nothing more in this moment than to know what it feels like to dig your nails into it. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to air the wanton out of your system. Don’t be a hussy, y/n. He turns back to you and your face flushes when he catches your lingering stare.

He hooks his fingers in his sweatpants and your breath catches in your throat. He lifts his eyebrow, silently asking if it’s okay for him to continue. Your mouth feels dry, your head is spinning. Slowly you nod, your eyes glued to his. He smirks lighty, an action so doused in sex that almost has you pulling Elijah’s t-shirt from your body and falling at his feet. You hold your breath as he pulls the sweatpants from his body and your heart almost falls out of your chest when they reveal a pair of grey plaid boxers. What were you expecting? Your subconscious taunts you mercilessly.

He steps into the bathtub behind you, kneeling and grabbing the showerhead on the way down. The heat rolling off of him seems to have increased, wrapping around you and daring you to melt into him. You want to, so badly you do, but you remain upright, your hands on the side of the tub, leaving rusty smudges on the crisp, white edges.

Kol leans forward, his mouth right next to your ear sending shivers straight to your core when he speaks, “darling, I’m going to need to take this off,” his fingers tease the tops of your thighs, curling around the hem of the t-shirt, “may I do that?”

He presses his face against your neck, laying a few soft kisses to the skin under your jaw. You roll your head back onto his shoulder, savouring his affection and warmth for a moment without overthinking it.

You nod against his skin, “yes, Kol.”

You can feel the breath he takes against your back and then, when he releases it, against your neck. He takes his time, his fingers gently skimming your sides as he gathers the fabric up and over your head. You raise your arms to make it easier for him, gasping gently as cool air rolls over your exposed breasts. He tosses Elijah’s t-shirt to the side, running his hands down your back and planting another kiss to your uncovered shoulder.

You know you should feel ashamed for being this naked with a man you just met but you physically can’t bring yourself to feel any of it. All you know is that you’re comfortable and that his hands on your skin feel like genuine magic.

“Okay, I’m going to turn the water on now,” he rubs his nose down the back of your neck, “let me know if it’s too hot or anything.”

Your eyes prickle at how sweet he is, how gentle he is with you. He definitely doesn’t look like the gentle type, all tall, dark, and broody, but the way he’s acting proves otherwise. You nod your head, leaning your chin on the edge of the tub. He starts the water, a plume of steam instantly clouding the bathroom. The first stream to hit you is heavenly and you can’t help but close your eyes.

“Is that okay, darling?”

You hum quietly, “it’s perfect.”

You let the water lull you into a daze, picturing the stream turning red as the water rolls off you and down the drain. It’s mesmerizing, the warmth of the water combined with Kol’s heady scent. When he touches you, though, it’s like a crescendo of feeling. His fingers run over your back, no doubt washing away the events of this evening, but all you can think about is how perfect his hands feel against your bare skin.

Everywhere he touches blazes to life. You feel like putty in his hands, willing to mold however he needs you to. When his fingers glide down your sides your body reacts without warning, your back arching against his chest. You can feel his chest rumble under your back more than you can hear it. His large hands span your back easily, spreading over your ribcage, his thumbs gently grazing your breasts. You suck in a harsh breath, clenching your teeth to keep his name in your mouth. It’s begging to be said though. Said, screamed, praised. Anything. Fuck it.

“Kol,” you breathe, reaching back to grasp at his forearms for stability, “more.”

The growl that rips from his chest is unexpected but it lights every fibre of your being alive. He pulls you hard against his solid chest, falling against the back of the tub and shifting you so you’re perfectly centered on his lap. A flare of pleasure flashes up your spine when you land on something hot and hard. You hiss at the thin layer of clothing between you and Kol.

His lips find your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and sending even more heat pooling in your core, “as you wish, darling.”

Your hands fall away as his hands cover your breasts, his thumbs skillfully sliding over your hard nipples. This time you don’t whisper his name, you moan it. Loudly. Every time he rolls your nipples between his fingers, you see stars. You see the whole damn galaxy. His lips find your shoulder, biting down gently but hard enough to pull a string of incoherent praise from your lips.

His chest rumbles with every noise you make and the ball of heat between your legs grows brighter. You rock your hips against his, trying to build some much needed friction. The noise you pull from him is the epitome of heaven and it hits you right in the chest. It compels you to keep grinding your core against him harder, taking every sound he offers up and matching it with one of your own. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, rolling your head onto his shoulder as the anticipation sings through your body.

Your senses are flooded, your hearing muffled by the running water and your blood pumping through your ears, which is probably why you don’t hear the door open and someone step into the bathroom. It’s only when a pair of lips attaches to the base of your neck do you peel your eyes open. You meet Klaus’ stare with a gasp, just as Kol pinches your nipples harder than all the times before.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, tearing through your nerves without warning and rendering you to pieces. All the while Klaus takes your arm, placing tantalizing, open mouth kisses down your skin. When you finally come down from the climax, your muscles are layered with a sweet exhaustion. Kol nuzzles against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Fuck, darling,” he nips at your shoulder and your skin zings lightly, “you have no idea how much I needed that.”

Your eyes meet Klaus’ and your cheeks flame from the intensity of his stare, “I didn’t do anything, you did it all.”

You want to look away from Klaus, you want to feel some inkling of shame, but you can’t. All you want is to do is hook your arm around his neck and bring him closer to you. Your body craves his and it’s all you can do to not melt into his palm when he cups your cheek.

“That’s the point, love,” Klaus runs his thumb over your skin, “he just wanted to touch you.”

Kol hums his agreement into your flesh, his lips still glued to you.

“Do you want to touch me?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, your eyes widening as soon as you register what you just said.

In less than a second, the brown eyes staring into your turn a dark coal color. The skin around Klaus’ eyes turns a deep purple. Your breath hitches at this side of him, a deep longing settling in your chest the longer you stare into his eyes. He's ethereal and entirely unhuman but you can’t even think about that. You want him so bad it stings. He has to shut his eyes for a few moments and when he opens them again his eyes are back to normal, if not a touch darker.

When he speaks his voice is gravelly, “I need to.”

You swallow hard, forcing the words out before you have time to lose your nerve, “come here then.”

Klaus’ eyes widen before he stands abruptly, shoving his own jogging pants down his legs before stepping into the other side of the tub. Kol lets you go as Klaus settles against the porcelain. As soon as he’s comfortable he wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest. Your legs end up on either side of him, much like how you were with Kol, your core pressed against the hardest part of him.

His crisp scent folds around you and sucks you deeper against him until your chest to chest, your breasts pressing into his firm chest. His arms settle around your back, his palms splayed over your spine. Your flesh buzzes from the contact, goosebumps rising when he traces lazy circles with his fingertips. You meet his eyes again and involuntarily clench your thighs around his hips. He’s looking at you like you’re the only girl he’s ever laid eyes on. Like he’s in the presence of a goddess and that he would gladly lay his life down for you.

Your eyes draw down to the tattoo on his chest, an image of birds in flight, and you run your fingers over it gently. He sucks in a breath when you touch him, closing his eyes and leaning back against the edge of the tub. Something about his reaction spurs you on. If that’s what your fingers can do, what can your mouth do? You lean down, gently attaching your lips to his collarbone and tugging his skin into your mouth.

He jolts up when you bite down lightly, jostling you further onto his lap and sending waves of heat rolling over your body, “fuck,” his hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you impossibly closer to him, “love, you have no idea how good that feels.”

You pull back slightly, your mouth still against his skin as your eyes bore into his, “show me.”

His chest rumbles under your lips before he pulls your head back gently and slams his lips against your throat. He sucks your skin into his mouth and, for the second time tonight, you see stars. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, lacing your fingers through his blonde hair. You tug him closer to you, crossing your ankles behind his back. You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours.

He bites down, his teeth scraping pleasure into every nerve, and you pull at his soft hair, praises falling mindlessly from your lips, “Klaus.”

A second pair of hands glides over your back, “darling, let me wash your hair. I can feel Elijah getting restless. Unless you want three men in this tub with you, I need to finish getting you cleaned up.”

Your heart pounds at the thought of Elijah in the bath with you, his large body pressed against yours. You can practically smell his pine scent in the air, clinging to your skin. You bite your lip. You want to moan his name and he isn’t even in the room. You shake the thought from your mind, leaning into Kol’s hands.

Klaus kisses up your neck, peppering your jaw and cheeks with pecks before pulling you to lay against his chest. You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion that’s been building flood your system. Kol soaks your hair, the warm water pouring down your shoulders as you press your face into Klaus’ neck. His hands draw lazily up and down your sides as Kol massages shampoo against your scalp. You mewl at his touch and cling to Klaus. You could stay in the moment forever, it’s absolutely blissful.

Just as Kol is rinsing the shampoo from your hair, the door to the bathroom opens revealing a shirtless Elijah. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. In his hand is a large towel. His eyes zero in on you from across the room and, though you can’t see them clearly, you can tell they’re dark. Your head goes fuzzy as your eyes draw down his sculpted chest, lingering on his rippled stomach. You meet his eyes again and give into your instincts, reaching your arms out for him.

“Eli,” you call out to him, “I need you.”

You stand on wobbly feet, bearing everything to him. You don’t care, you just want to be in his arms. You haven’t had a chance to touch him yet and your body is screaming at you to get as close to him as humanly possible. Even more than humanly possible. Elijah closes the space between the two of you in seconds, wrapping the towel around you before pulling you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms circling his neck.

He leans down, rubbing his nose against yours, “I need you too, baby.”

You slip your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, playing with the soft strands mindlessly. He leans into your touch and your heart soars. He hikes you further up your body, leaning his face against your shoulder. You run your hands over his shoulders, sighing when the tension leaves his muscles.

“I’m going to go sleep for a few hours,” Elijah mumbles into your shoulder but his words aren’t aimed at you, “do you think the two of you will be okay until then.”

Klaus waves his hand dismissively and Kol nods, still draped lazily over the edge of the tub, “yeah, yeah, go, we’ll be fine brother.”

Wait, what?

Did you hear that right? Brother. Your entire body sets on fire. They’re all related. Well, there’s the shame you were missing at least. You push against Elijah’s chest, forcing him to meet your eyes. When he sees your expression his brows pull together, his brown eyes filled with concern.

“Baby-”

“You’re all brothers?” you breathe, your face burning, “brothers? What on earth is going on?”

He stares into your eyes for a moment before laughing, turning with you in his arms and starting towards the door. You lock eyes with Klaus and Kol over Elijah’s shoulder. They, too, are laughing without a care. Kol tosses you a wink just as Elijah carries you into the hallway.

You circle your arms around his shoulders again, “Lijah this is crazy. Explain. Please.”

He pulls you through another door, exposing you to a comfortable looking bed. Just looking at it sends sleep pooling in your limbs. He sets you in the middle of it before climbing on after you. He pushes you backwards and you fall into a pile of pillows, the towel long forgotten as he crawls on top of you. Your body flares with something hot as he holds himself on his forearms, his hot chest grazing yours with every breath he takes. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you despite your still unanswered questions.

“Lijah,” you whine as his lips find your neck, arching into his touch like two magnets connecting, “I need answers.”

Elijah’s teeth scrape at your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips. You’re so tired but the want that swirls in your core demands anything but sleep. You grip his shoulders, digging your fingers into his firm muscles. You pull his hips closer to yours, rolling against him desperately. You press your head into the pillows, exposing as much of your neck as you can to him.

He pulls away and you have to swallow your protests. When you finally open your eyes, you’re met with the same dark eyes you saw from Klaus, only now they’re accented by a pair of sharp looking fangs. You suck in a deep breath, reaching up to cup Elijah’s jaw.

“I know, baby,” he rubs his face into your hand, “I’ll give you all the answers you need and more but first I need you. I have waited a thousand years for you and now that I have you I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go yet. Please, baby, let me have you.”

His words wrap around you, every part of your being, and sink into your core. A wave of longing hits you again, and something else that you’re not ready to explore. It makes your heart warm and your body crave every inch of his. You already knew your answer before he asked. You’ve known since you woke up to the three of them.

Maybe you even knew before that.

You pull his face to yours, capturing his lips with your own, “you already have me. I’m yours.”

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zuluc · 4 years ago

Text

anonymous requested: 👉👈 Diluc cuddles after reader has had a long, rough day?

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: a tiny bit suggestive

notes: i like how most of the requests i have are for diluc but i am not complaining because that means there will be more diluc content to circulate; also diluc as a cuddler please i wANT

for most of the requests you’re like the traveller but without a ration

The aching in your muscles calls out to you as you walk through the paths of Springvale, desperate for the moment your head could hit the pillows. You still had to walk all the way to Mondstadt for your place of rest and you had no horse or any other means for transportation besides your own two feet. The townspeople who were still awake give you looks of sympathy when they see you pass by them with Draff offering to provide you with a place for a night and some food. You politely decline and go on your way, your head going through the events of the day to keep you awake.

You are immensely tired there is no denying that. There were too many camps in such a small area and there were barely enough knights to assist you. A few hilichurls were able to get a good hit on you due to your fatigue building up and the woodshield mitachurls were having a field day. You were bruised and tired and today was just not your day.

The knights that were with you wanted to bring you back to the town to get patched up but you were already gone once the last of the structures was destroyed. In actuality, you didn’t want to burden them and there was still one commision you needed to get done without them knowing.You got to complete it, however, with a few more injuries added to the plate.

The sun is near setting and the darkening skies did nothing to help you in your predicament. You shuffle to the underside of a small cliff and stare off into the distance of Mondstadt, calculating the shortest path to take that wouldn’t be full of congregating slimes. You sigh with a shiver from the breeze that brushes against your face. Your eyes move to the ground to make sure you won’t trip on any stray rocks or sticks because at this point anything could knock you over.

With your eyes trained downward you are unaware of someone in front of you and an “oof” comes out from you when you faceplant into their chest. Stepping back, you open your mouth to apologize and they hold onto your arms.

“You must be kidding me,” they say and you’re suddenly perked up at the voice. Dliuc has an unamused look on his face and there was no questioning that the knights had told him what you’ve been up to. “Are you overworking yourself again?” You don’t meet his eyes as a sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.

Diluc crosses his arms at the sight of knights coming towards him. Was there something their incompetence couldn’t solve? He didn’t know nor did he want to.

“Master Diluc!’ One of them calls out to him.

“What is it?” His voice holds its usually cold tone.

“The Honorary Knight is overworking themselves again. They declined to come back with us for treatment for their injuries and--”

“Did you say injuries?” The knight nods. Diluc knew you were capable of fighting and taking care of yourself out there but there were the days in which you took on too many missions at once. These knights were truly useless if they didn’t at least try to convince you. He grows upset. “Where did you last see them?”

“Ah, well... they disappeared after one of the camps was cleared out but one of those passing by the fields saw them heading towards Springvale.” Diluc doesn’t say anything else to the knight as he leaves to get you.

“Uh, define ‘overworking’...” that’s when you see him roll his eyes but there’s no warning when he tugs you towards the horse you just noticed behind him. “Wait, Diluc!” You are helped onto it and he climbs up behind you, arms coming around your middle to hold the reins.

“You never listen do you.” His voice is stern but you can hear the concern underlying in it and how his arms tighten ever so slightly around you. His body warmth is clear and present against your back and you can’t help but close your eyes with the feeling of sleep oh so welcoming. Your eyes close and Diluc notices, making sure to keep you in steady so you don’t shift off and fall as you move towards Dawn Winery.

You are mostly asleep by the time you both arrive and you can hear and feel the trotting stop. You feel yourself being carried off of the horse and away from the cold air through the winery’s doors. There were gasps from inside and Diluc’s smooth voice directing them to draw you a bath, his voice trailing off as you come in and out of sleep.

By the time you opened your eyes again you found yourself in a warm bath. You look down and your face flushes to see that you had been stripped of your clothes, vaguely aware of who it was that did so.

“You’re getting very careless,” Diluc says from beside you. You are startled, unaware that he was next to you this entire time while you stared into the water. “Luckily enough you just had bruises and no bleeding.” You sink further into the water because you believe he’s mad at you. You had worried him a lot whenever you would take on missions after missions without rest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is somewhat muffled with your lips level with the water. You gaze lifts to his face and you do a double-take. He must have cleaned up before you awoke since his hair is loose across his back and shoulders and the top of his shirt is unbuttoned. He smells clean and warm, a scent you almost always fall asleep to when he is beside you.

Diluc gives you a hard look then his eyes soften when they see the guilt in your own. He reaches out to you, flicking your forehead lightly. His hand moves to the back of your head to tilt it up to face him. You hum when he kisses you, the type of kiss that leaves your lips tingling from the warmth.

After you’ve cleaned up and dried, Diluc dresses you in one of his larger shirts and lays you gently on his bed as he was carrying you again. Your bruises feel less prominent and your heart pangs at the amount of care he shows you. You snuggle underneath the covers and peek out the top at his form as he moves around the room. The fireplace lights his face with an almost heavenly glow and your cheeks grow warm with the view of him looking that good in front of you. Sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned: he would be the death of you.

He smirks when he feels your gaze. “Staring is rude, love.” You huff and bury in the covers again. The cold sheets cool your face and you feel him shift into bed beside you, lifting the covers off your face so he can see you. He has a soft smile as he caresses your cheek. You lean into his touch and place an arm around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, guilt evident in your features, “I made you worry.” He’s mindful of your injuries while pulling you to his chest.

“Next time, be more careful. You work hard but you don’t have to do it to this extent. Yes I’m worried, I won’t lie about that, but make sure you are taking care of yourself.” You nod against him and feel the softest of forehead kisses. He trails it down your face, stopping at your lips then moving to your neck. They’re light and fleeting but numerous. He shifts and you raise an eyebrow at his movement when he moves further down. He places kisses on your exposed collarbone, nipping softly in some areas.

“D-Diluc? What are you doing?”His hands land on your hips and your hands are clutching tightly at his shoulders. His arms come around you as he buries his face in your chest. He looks up in confusion before realization hits him and he chuckles at the implication.

“Did you want me to keep going?” Diluc has a mischevious look in his eyes, “I can make the rest of your pain go away...” Your heart races and you can’t look him in the eye, embarassed at his words. He chuckles again at your misery and decides to stop with his teasing. He knows you’re tired and today’s work took quite a toll on your physical state. You hug his head to you and put your hands in his hair. It’s as soft as always and he sighs in content when you run your fingers through it.

“When did you get so bold?” You mutter, sleep slowly seeping into you despite how fast your heart had been beating moments ago.

“Only for you, my love.” He kisses your neck one more time, “Only for you.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc

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sanghyukstattoos · 4 years ago

Text

SF9′s reaction: you comfort them when they are exhausted and upset

Characters: Sweet guys who could only appear in your dreams

Word count: lmao

Genres: Fluff, smut, suggestive smut

A/N: For more works like this one, click here

Hearing the front door open, you called out, ‘’Binnie?’‘, voice distinctly echoing in the walls of the hallway. They were ghostly practitioners because your husband did not answer back. Like you, he had just come back from work, his briefcase already tossed to the side and entering the storeroom turned jacket area, he hung his suit jacket. Unlike his morning attire, his shirt was crumpled from the sleeves to the back and the belt was quickly rounded, thrown into the basket of belts.

You watched him sigh in overall discontent, chuckling at his need to just take a day off and relax. You excitedly stretched your limbs, setting down the numerous take-out fliers you had pulled out. Your eyebrows went up and your mouth puckered in question. Looking from side to side, you wondered, what is the rush?

He had not answered your call but upon seeing you, he lit up, quickly moving towards you as a rabbit would when it is cuddled and gave you a tiny, baby peck on the cheek. You smiled in delight, walking along with him as he asked, ‘’How was your day?’’. You hummed, stating that it was hectic yet good and he agreed with the former point.

‘‘Mine was hectic too’‘ he pouted and you caught his attention with a gentle smile, taking him in your arms and giving him a hug. He settled into your arms, the tiredness looking familiar to you. You were sure that his head was hurting. His expression was similar to when he was in a fucked-out state- hazily staring at you through those beautiful half-lidded eyes, lips slightly parted as he gazed at you, but only this time he was dreaming.

‘‘You know’‘ he whispered, leaning into your embrace. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into his chest as he rested in the crook of your neck. He did not explain any further, choosing to rest in the silence of your comfort. ‘’We should have some wine.’’ he whispered, hugging you closely. ‘’Now?’’ you asked, purely curious. He agreed and you replied, ‘’How about after we do this?’’, motioning to the bath.

You found it evident that he was fatigued, saying, ‘‘Come with me, I’ll wash your hair’‘. He happily nodded, taking off the rest of his clothes and feeling the stickiness of the day escape him. He felt less stuffier now than when he first entered the house, smelling like the office he had worked in all day. His eyes reflected greediness as he stepped into the water, making you chuckle, pleased that he was looking more handsome than ever and in good shape.

First on your list of things to do was to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him. Passionately, your lips settled onto his, lovingly holding him in place. He was enjoying it, gently gripping at your shirt. Although he had this innocent appearance to him, the strength and endurance he had in his ambition paralleled yours, one of the reasons why you had fallen in love with him. There was little lingering, yet feeling like you could be closer.

Sometimes, you spent your lunch with him, overlooking the pretty white blossoms cornering your building. It crowded your view of the often busy street and sometimes went bald but in your office, you forsook the working relationship you had with him. Sharing your food, plotting the evasion of your higher-ups orders- How could you explain it? It was intimate, fiery and included a tingle of the senses. (Perhaps, all of the senses?)

You wanted to love him over and over again, like watching one episode after the other, late into the night. The two of you were intimately brought together, your feelings escalating when you made love on the bed, on the kitchen counter on a lazy morning or on the sofa while watching some boring movie, sometimes switching fast sex to casual.

He leaned back, hands quickly motioning to you, ‘’Get in here please’’. You laughed aloud, excitement filling your system like blowing air into balloons at birthday parties. He breathed out a sigh of relief as your fingers tangled in his shampoo-filled hair, white, scrubby bits everywhere, some even floating in the air.

He was relaxed, soothed by your touches before he started giggling and playing with the water, running his hands through it and smiling at the ripples that formed. ‘’Should I join you?’’ you teasingly pondering as he pouted at you, maybe thinking, get in here? Please?. Not caring whether you were ruining your clothes, you took them off with your soap covered hands and threw them in the basket. He admired your figure and the way it was enveloped by the warm water.

He welcomed you with extended arms and you straddled him, comfortably settling on his lap. You could not choose what to liken his smile too. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pretending to be distracted because you were unable to to contain the heat that rose to your cheeks that in turn, rose with your smile. You wanted to give him some advice which got pushed back when he began to wander your body, delicately bathing your skin with warm water.

You paused, purely curious as he rested a hand on your ass while you were brought close to him, his lips encasing yours in a touch that evoked a heated response from you. You rose with the kiss, unconsciously grinding your hips against his tip that brushed your inner thigh. You were taken back with his unexpected actions, very much enjoying the effects.

He parted your ass cheeks, arousal flooding to your sex as it was embedded within the two of you. Every time felt congruously new, like a passionate relish of red, plump apples or biting into a ripe mango, feeling the juice trickle into your mouth, encasing your tongue in something watery yet sugary.

He left you little to the imagination: water spilt out of the tub, rippling with fast movements. You threw your head back, heavily breathing, both of you vicarious in the feeling of sounds. You let out soft cries of pleasure while he thrusted his hips up, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching down on his member. He felt the smooth curve of your ass, grabbing it as he buried himself inside you, kissing every part of your body that was accessible to him as you held onto him, bouncing unrhythmically.

He roamed your body, over and over again. You were lost right now, gasping, moaning, crying out in intimacy as you held onto the tub. You lifted your hip, and then in a quick, repeated motion, you met his own. You could feel him trail your legs as you got off him and faced the wall, hands slipping for grasp as he entered you from behind. He was pleased to end his day with you, to feel you around him, habiting his nearest surroundings. And for you words of advice, he was thankful too.

Today had been rough. Inseong was swamped in how people were treating him, the intentions behind their behaviour ambiguous. So he found it vague to explain it to you or rather, find a label for it. He said that it was complicated and you understood, telling him that many things were hard to justify too, because it didn’t fit the category of direct and explainable. It was the small things that either added up or didn’t.

Then came the pressure that followed such things. The embedded attitudes of people felt relentless. It was similar to an unjustified attack, tiring Seong out from daily routines and schedules. He had informed you of what was going on. When you asked him what his plans were, he simply shrugged, sighed and gave you a smile (keeping hopes up that it would go away). Some things did not go away unless you told them too.

You couldn’t tell him to ‘let it pass’ or ‘ignore them’ because although it did not seem like it, those words were inconsiderate. Instead you told him to stand up for himself, in small ways, like their behaviour. You refused to see him hurt like this- partly defeated and showing easy acceptance of something that could be changed. You did your best to encourage him, lightly scolding him for keeping such a mindset in the first place.

As he sat on the sofa, suit still on and laying exhausted in your arms, nestling into the comfort he found in you, you combed through his hair, wanting to ask him some questions. He mumbled his answers sleepily, not bothering to hide the truth from you, saying it plain and simple. As it should have been told from the start, you heard it, brainstorming of how to combat this. But both of you were equally worn out and so you accidently fell asleep in the living room, waking up hours later in each other’s arms.

The next time, you had come home some hours after him, daylight fading into the distance but the blues had already set in, much earlier than you had thought. You remember entering the house and placing your shoes in the stand. You had placed your stuff in the bedroom, quickly changing into home clothes. All the while, the air was silent albeit the presence of Seong who had already texted you that he had reached home.

You were happy to see him, having kissed him in a hurry to feel him on you unlike the first half of the day when you had so dearly missed him. After a good conversation, he downplayed the events in a deflating manner. The story was malicious and you did not appreciate their insincerity. They had treated him more roughly then before and it occurred to you that Inseong’s tunnel of vision had narrowed. In hope he thought that there wasn’t much for the future but you were infuriated upon hearing his story.

You were still on for fighting back, not hitting the knees or lightly shoving. There was no sugar-coating, making the relay barren but you had wanted him to understand what you had meant. Instilling some fight into him, he had understood, swallowing your advice to find others that disagreed with this type of treatment. To find like-minded people and rid himself of his problem, once and for all.

It wasn’t easy for him but in the coming weeks, you noticed a change- that he was happier than before. He was giddy and you reflected on previous memories, thinking that he had always managed to be happy, those people had just dampened it. Today, you sat with an unopened wine bottle, texting your friends till Inseong came home. And when he did, your phone was flung somewhere (so precious, hopefully on the sofa itself) and he took you into his arms, giving you a hug.

You excitedly returned it back and the familiar thudding returned when you saw him smile, gummy version and lit eyes showing. Although he was tired, he was brimming with energy, agreeing to your proposition of wine and cookies. He rolled onto the sofa, throwing the covers over your thighs and leaning on your shoulders. His legs ached from the walk to get home as quick as possible but it felt worth it.

You gave him a peck, grinning as he cutely leaned in for more. The more you gave into him, the more you smiled from ear to ear. The screen of the television greeted your eyes in the bright light of the living room, heart beat steady as you embraced Seong. Bringing his hair back, you chuckled at his facial expressions that immediately relaxed, taking a sip of his wine in the process. ‘’That felt good’’ he commented, feeling the rumble of your chest as you laughed.

‘‘Including your whole day? That sounds good’‘ you replied, cross-legged as you grabbed a cookie, Seong’s eyes tracing the crumbly deliciousness. Breaking a piece, you plopped it into Seong’s parted lips, smiling at his quick response to the melted chocolate. ‘‘It was and things are looking up’‘ he happily motioned, responded and you listened as he spoke more, entailing you to the details. You firstly felt happy, secondly thrilled that you had won, unanimously.

You could hear someone distinctly coughing in another room, its nature echoing and reverberating and hence catching the attention of JaeYoon as well. He kept silent, not a peep from his mouth when the familiar pain affected his temples, lighting up like red lights around his eyes and cheeks, inciting him to desire a cough.

You watched from your spot at the door, his back hunched and eyes monotonously staring at the screen. You flinched as you thought of the pain of staring into something that bright in a room so dark. As you leant against the door frame, you saw him harshly rub the pain away from his heavy eyes that would not open as far as they usually would.

He looked like he was having trouble looking up, heavily exhaling as he tried to resist the pain. They grew stronger like the thudding sounds of boots against a wooden floor that by the second neared closer to you.

He gets up from the table, his chair scraping against the floor as it is pushed back with sheer force of his anger, annoyance, irritation. It takes him less time than swinging a baseball bat to launch a last-minute defence than to grab the chair he sits on and fling it at the wall. He believes that no one around as he sighs, then shamefully picks it up and sits on it again, reflecting.

You wondered what he was imagining, looking lost in thought. His cheeks turned red like the sunset, a gradient of embarrassment. What he was feeling was understood by his team members and although you were blameless, a part of your decision-making process pricked at your mind. It started to gnaw until you shooed it away, tricking you into thinking that his pain was influenced by you.

You were mindful of your perception of his situation, understanding that if you did not have the full details, you did not have the right to serve him harsh words either. There could have been more to what he had told you because he was an excellent soldier and knew how to weave tales to best fit his situation, even to his team leader.

He knew now that you were at the door, shadow having shifted due to the movement of light. When he faced you, he settled his hair down, even though it already was- a habit he had when he was nervous. He yearned for your comfort like a hug or a few words of advice. It was not selfish of him for it was human desire and unable to breach the relationship he had with you, he settled for your praise whilst watching you from afar.

Under your gaze, he felt nervous but his thoughts overcame him because he felt hardened to the fact that he could not change the past and knew still, that it was useless to ponder over such things. As you scanned his form, the anger he felt was irreplaceable and you felt that you could not soothe him, yet. For the kind of person that he was, you knew that he would pull through.

You made your move to give him time, giving him one last look as you turned back and walked away. Hours later, he must have been calm, rationally thinking of the situation when you saw him in the swimming pool on the roof. Leaning against the wall, he put his phone down upon seeing you enter. You said nothing, his eyes wide and suggesting something that could not be put into a sentence. You expected him not to question and he did not, waiting for you to speak first.

As you slipped into the water, a line of goosebumps trailed your leg yet you entered without flinching, letting a wave of water swallow your body. You were engulfed and while basking in the liquid, you moved towards him, coming together for camellias and carnations presently unknown.

Warm sunlight and the mindless singing of birds filled the air like filling water into a jug. You paddled towards him, watching him stand up straight, eyes never moving below your jaw. He waited and waited till you came to him, till your face was as close to him as two threads sewn one after the other. His system was frozen, back against the wall, water still, only small ripples forming as you moved towards him.

‘‘We can’t let someone know about this’‘ you mumbled, regretfully looking at his confused eyes. His lips were parted in question, words barely coming out as he shook his head in agreement. Unconsciously moving closer to you, you smiled, exclaiming, ‘‘Should I show you the place where everyone goes to take a break without me knowing? And you too apparently’‘.

‘‘Did I read that wrong? Or something? I thought-’‘ he asked, clearing his head and halting your movements when you began to walk away. You chuckled, replying, ‘‘Hold on-’‘. You disagreed as you continued, ‘’No, you didn’t. I just thought it would be better to be somewhere private than here.’‘. He came to the realisation pretty quickly, turning his opinion around at the open space for a lack of privacy or none thereof in the first place.

As he followed you, it clicked to him and he didn’t stop himself from asking, ‘’There is a place where people go to relax?’’. You laughed, pointing to some place beneath the surface of land, carefully opening the door. You marvelled in amazement when it did open, exactly as you were told, your eyes meeting his affiliating gaze based on the way you smiled in wonder. Reflective, you looked around, laughing as you caught each other turning at the same time.

‘‘I don’t know why we haven’t been introduced to this place as yet’‘ you stated, seeing a glint of something shiny in the background.

‘‘I agree and shouldn’t you know about this? Given where it is’‘ he motioned, pleasantly unsurprised, figuring that you had your own place to relax. As he bent down to crawl you responded, ‘’If anyone, I might be the last to know’’, drawing a laugh from the both of you at how true it was.

The entrance was wide, allowing you to swim without hitting the sides. Lights lit the sides and you were met with a staircase, droplets cascading down your wet clothes as you stepped out of the water. Neither of you bothered to comment on the spiral staircase or the enormous dry room, filled with private corners of games, food and drinks.

You stared at with mouths agape until Jaeyoon broke the silence. After finding a place to change into fresh clothes, you met him at the massage chairs, twined in a corner that gave you a view of the doors. ‘’Here’’ you handed him a beer bottle, asking him, ‘’Aren’t you going to switch it on?’’, looking around for a button. He shook his head, popping open the cap between the bend of his arm and taking a sip from it.

Well, you thought, Jaeyoon’s attention turning to the buzzing machine as you relaxed, sighing in content. He was bewildered, asking, ‘’You turned it on?’’ while trying to configure the buttons himself. You met his stare, trying to playfully kick him, exclaiming, ‘’Stop staring at me, turn it on!’’, drawing a laugh from the both of you as he slipped into the darkness of the massager. You were caught in the trap of the machine, its gentle massages turning sinister.

Your bottles were left empty handed as you felt the soothing motions of the machine. The place was appropriately sized for a team of eight people and two people had managed to occupy a small corner of it. You smiled, thinking of the room itself, trying to enjoy yourself in the moment without thinking of anything else. Meanwhile, Jaeyoon was drifting off, pleasantly lost in the idea of starting something new with you.

Sanghyuk leant on his elbow, propped up by the pillow, peering at you with ambiguous eyes. You merely hummed at his offer and a small smile tugged at your lips. This proposition of his always stood, no matter the circumstance. You thought that there was nothing for you to lose but you were wrong. And so you shrugged, tossing the covers aside and getting in beside him.

There was a gap in between, obvious that he was treading the waters carefully. You laid next to him, not touching his arm or leg, perhaps expecting him to pull you towards him. The gap was evident, but only to the both of you. He lingered next to your fingers and you interlocked it, turning on your side as you asked, ‘‘Are you worried about something?’‘

Strands of hair flopped on his forehead as he nodded, taking in a deep breath. In doing so, he swallowed his stress and looked at you. He flashbacked to your features, expressions, mannerisms, recounting them one by one. Your breath hitched as he grasped your waist, pulling you closer till your body was touching his.

There it was. He did not say anything, evident that he didn’t have a reason to be with you today. Unlike his usual line providing you an explanation, he chose to forgo one this time. And he didn’t need to. There had been another fall today at work but he didn’t particularly care about it. Not until he heard you say in that tone of voice, ‘’It’s all the same, it doesn’t matter’’ with that look in your eyes.

It was as if you didn’t know each other that well, that you hadn’t been sleeping with each other all this time. Like he had once heard, there is an emotional component to sex. All he had done then was nod, but then began his doubts and he wanted to know if it was true.

If you reciprocated his feelings. You cleared your throat, removing the strands of hair from his face. ‘’Say something’’ you murmured, and he only replied by caressing your cheek and bringing you closer to him. He wanted your lips, to feel you on every part of his body and for you to pull him close and hold him and tell him how much of a good boy he was for you.

‘‘You look like you’re in a different place today’‘ you continued and he decided that he would tell you. His heart began racing and he got nervous, shifting his line of sight to the ceiling. You sighed in frustration, leaning a distance away from him, removing his hand from yours.

There was no rule that you couldn’t like each other, you were adults and you could sort this out as it happened. But you hadn’t known why you did not speak about it all this time. You had purposely thrown him off these days, either by telling him that you were busy and you couldn’t meet up with him or that you just were not available. And like that, what was in sight was out of mind.

But it hurt you. To see the look on his face was painful and you could remember crying about it once. But whatever your reason was, you wanted to settle this.

Your friend could not understand why you wanted to turn Sanghyuk down. She was in disbelief over his physique and how sweet of a guy he was and the fact that the two of you got along very well. She was proud of you for finding someone whose intentions were good, inside and out. ‘’You need to say something Sanghyuk’’ you said, reaching out for his hand.

‘‘I’m not sure how to-’‘ he started, waving his hands in the air. But he pulled you, planting his lips on yours. And you did this thing with swinging around on your decisions. You gave in, kissing him back. It was pretty, sure, because you had kissed many times. This time, there was a confession leaning over your head and Sanghyuk did not anticipate the fact that you would accept.

You needed to think about it. ‘’Please stop thinking so hard. Tell me. I just want to tell you that I like you. You want to say, ‘’Although, I like you too, it’s complicated’’.’’. It was a gold-mine worth of information which shouldn’t have been worth its value. As you leaned back and told him, he listened and just when you had finished he groaned out a ‘’come here’’ and pulled you into his arms.

In three moments, he told you some statements that began to mean so much more than some cheesy lines written on a paper. Perhaps, when those lines were written, the writer had empathised with the person and then understood the deeper meaning of those lines. You realised that you hadn’t read the text properly, skimping over it. But now, you gasped in awareness, his softness and gentleness bringing tears to your eyes.

He wiped them away, pressing a kiss to each cheek. The two of you laid there in the peacefulness of being in each other’s arms, the threads of your relationships being folded by beautifully intricate knots. When the last hours of the week had arrived, Sanghyuk was so exhausted that he fell asleep in your arms. You had been watching tv as he sat there, persistently asking to eat you out.

You had narrowed your eyes but you then as you looked at him, you remember caving in. The yes was fairly quick. He also moved quickly onto his knees, clearing telling you, ‘’Thank you’’ before he took off your bottoms, propping your knees on his shoulders. You had tugged his hair, making him go faster as your eyes absent-mindedly trailed to his messy nose and mouth.

You had told him how much of a mess he was making and when you asked him if he liked it, he proceeded to giggle. He ate you out multiple times, ignoring the ache of sitting on his calf muscles and only focused on you. You cleaned yourself up, making a mental note to return the favour, in another way as you tucked him into the sofa, throwing your leg over him and falling asleep like a baby.

'’Are you feeling okay?’’ you asked your boyfriend, whose sighing was aimless, less than distinct the fatality of the sound of giving up. He was constantly running his hands through his hair. However, to take the hair out of his face he was met with the bright sunlight that the open curtains let through, shining almost everywhere apart from you.

You were barely covered by the warmth of the high-numbered tog cover. Each part of your body was warming up, leaving with something of an uncomfortable feeling. Seokwoo was rehearsing lines in his head, too many thoughts swarming, not permitting him to concentrate. He was unaware that you were watching him, almost losing him to a daydream.

Attention on him when he discarded his slippers, you pulled the covers over him as he settled into your side. He grumbled nonsense words that made you chuckle, lovingly caressing his cheek, losing your grasp as he smiled. You smiled back, nestling into the warmth of his arms, throwing an arm over him and kissing each eye that blinked in wondersome, secretly glowing with love too.

He laid on his back so that you were on top of him and hence, earned a giggle from you. Looking at you, he softly spoke, not vague in his indication of what he was speaking about, ‘’You know how I’ve been working all these days?’’. It was unfair, that so many people in his profession had to deal with a distinct loss of sleep and fatigue.

You hummed, encouraging him with a nod, understanding that it was building up and today, he couldn’t seem to make it work with what he had in front of him. ‘’I can’t do it- No, I can but I’m too tired right now’’ he continued, heaviness not allowing him to continue.

As he told you the details in a soft, whispery voice and light-heartedly neutral tone, you felt a deep sense of sadness overcome you. You wanted to help him so you told him many things. There was a story of your own work, wrapping the details with a snapping recovery from previously stimulated events. All the while, he listened carefully, not saying a word, occasionally asking a question or too. The latter especially made you smile as you carded your fingers through his hair, laying your head on his chest while speaking to him.

‘‘It won’t be the defining moment of your life, ever. It always feels like it in the moment but when you pass it, you won’t look behind. And when you do, it will be because you have already encountered something so difficult. ’‘ you spoke, peeking at him humming in agreement. ‘‘How much longer do you think you’ll need on it?’‘ you asked and he sighed, lost in contemplation over the calculation of the number of days he would need for this.

You chuckled, grasping his fingers and softly nestling against his cheek, bringing him back to reality. ‘’Should we do something instead? Maybe you can take a break for a little while?’‘ you questioned, thoughts already forming in your head. He lit up at this idea, giving one last look to the work on his desk before you tugged him along to the kitchen.

‘‘It’s good for you, you know. Like it’s good to get out and do stuff’‘ you said with a laugh, flailing your hands arounds to try and get him to understand that you wanted him to cook. You held back your laughter as he stood there with an apron on, utensil tilted at an angle, egg almost about to be whisked and an unamused expression adorning his handsome face.

He had not thought that he would be the one to cook! The pearly whites of your teeth showed as he looked up, sighed, collecting himself while standing in front of the counter, holding in his laughter as he heard yours float the room. He shook his head stating, ‘‘You are so sneaky? When did you even put this on me?’‘ he laughingly questioned, motioning with an open mouth of feeling startled towards the apron that he had no idea how- landed on him.

You whole-heartedly shrugged, smiling as you grabbed a handful of chocolate cereal, dipping them one by one in Nutella. ‘’Give me some’’ he salivated, opening his mouth as you filled it. He gladly received them, moaning in delight, instantly savouring the double-sweetness of the snack.

His cheeks moving in cute, little circles as he crunched, flipping the sizzling pancake. Leaning back, he cleared his hair from his face and you admired his bare face. ‘’More’’ he said, bringing you out of your day-dream. You were watching the way he moved, licking his lips as you asked, ‘’Should we add some Nutella to the pancakes?’’.

He excitedly nodded, saying, ‘’And some bananas and that, what is it?’’, leaving you mid-state as you collected the ripe ones, peeling them open and slicing the softness. You began guessing, ‘’Caramel?’’ to which he replied, ‘’Similar!’’. You were suspicious, adding, ‘’Are you just going along with the first thing I say?’’.

‘‘No’‘ he stated, laughing, even more so when you said, ‘‘Yea, honestly, I can’t think of anything else. What do we have in the house?’‘. The pancake almost burned before you pointed to it and in a hurry he turned it over. The both of you sighed in relief because it could be eaten. It hadn’t been too far gone for it to meet the trash.

‘‘The thing that people drizzle on their- oh! maple syrup!’‘ he exclaimed and it clicked in your head, saying, ‘‘That! Where is it?’‘. He threw his head back, holding back a playful groan, replying, ‘‘I don’t know. I have never tasted it’‘.

‘‘It’s been in our house for decades though’‘

‘’Don’t play. How did it taste?’’

‘‘I thought that it would really sweet you know?’‘

‘‘Uh-huh, like when they drizzle too much and the whole thing is just-’‘ he expressed distastefully with his mouth.

‘’Yea! But it wasn’t. It was kinda sweet and I ended up having some more’’

‘’What did you have it with’’

‘’Bananas and buttered bread’’ and he agreed, salivating in delight.

What a cutie, you thought, getting off your seat to pinch his cheeks and make cooing noises at him, then wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his side. When you looked up at him, he leaned to give you a kiss, beautifully wholesome and restrained, warm breaths exchanging as he comfortably moved against your lips, hands mid-air but lips softly pressing against yours. The pancakes sizzled, crisping around the edges as you softly moaned into the kiss, the thumping of your heart ever present in your ears.

Almost as far as he could grasp the situation, he was also having trouble. The trouble to walk as he would occasionally stumble, he tried not to make a habit of it. He was sweating, mini droplets of blood splattered over the right side of his hair and face.

He chuckled, muttering an incomprehensible set of words as he looked down at his right leg. It was bleeding, viciously. The blood was seeping from out of the wound and staining his trousers and he could feel it. He could feel its pain, jolting out his dream-like state when a car honked.

He was surprised because it wasn’t that loud as compared to other cars. The sound was almost muffled and he smiled, clutching his leg as he continued walking. He shook his head, clearing his mind when he realised that he was supposed to be catching the suspect.

Adrenaline flew through body, almost faltering but he wouldn’t give up. Sweat greatly stained his hair, dampening it to stick to his forehead. He stumbled, catching the corner of a wall to steady himself, and then he moved on. He walked and walked, not giving up and finally, the perpetrator was in sight.

He weakly called out for you to stop. You had just taken a rough turn and although your muscles ached, you needed to keep going. The faint rustling of the detective’s steps and voices could be heard. You ran and ran, the distinct voices of cry ringing through your mind.

You did not hear Zuho at first. He reached out for you in the darkness of the night, lightbulbs then collided with a huge trash can. The noise echoed and you jumped back, struggling to get yourself in the blind spots of the cameras that lined the alley.

Breathing heavily, you glared at the figure that was crouched. You only figured that it was someone drunk or high, until the headlight lit up. You were taken back, your system freezing as you viewed the fatigued face of Zuho. Through the ups and downs of your career that had been impacted by the fall of various democratic powers, the two of you joined the resistance.

In its early stages, when there were hardly many people, you slowly climbed the ranks, proving yourself to be an asset to the growing group. Zuho, on the other hand, remained close by, not desiring to engage in the ranks of the resistance. Instead, you kept your status as his mentor, teaching him how to hone his skills.

He looked after the house that the two of you owned, taking on the role of domestic duties till you came home from work and made love to him. When the resistance wanted to utilise all their people to the best of their abilities, he gladly took on the role of househusband, even if they did not have a job opening for him.

‘‘Shit’‘ you muttered, walking back to Zuho. The bells rang louder, the closer you approached Zuho. His lieutenant’s badge shone in gold and you crouched, desperately telling him, ‘‘I can’t take you back. They will find out about you’‘. He moaned in pain and when you pushed back his hair, you were overcome with the need to kiss him.

You pulled yourself back, watching from the corner of your eyes about the detectives and in that moment, he collapsed. His weight gave way and with a thud, he hit the floor. You decided not to let him die on this floor. You adamantly shouted into your receiver, ‘’Help me!’’. You heard the footsteps rush behind you, pulling you off the floor and pushing you in the direction of the car.

As you looked back, you saw them in a co-ordinated manner pick him up. Getting into your cars, you drove away, your colleague looking back at the soldiers who were scrambling to treat Zuho. ‘’This will fuck our plans’’ he muttered, holding back tears at Zuho’s state. You weakly chuckled, eyes dropping but you fought to stay awake saying, ‘’We will see from here on out’’.

Handling businesses on the ground made you realise that your group had more power than you thought. The workers of the law were corrupt, not all of them though. Some of them fought against these dirty workers and while some slipped into the greediness of money, some held on, even if their hands were burned off. The pain that rotted the city was terrible and you were sure that you had not seen the worst of it.

You were received by medics of a nearby camp and you woke up, shortly before the completion of two whole days. When you woke up, you reported to your boss first, then searched for Zuho. You walked the place by yourself, not wanting to answer any questions. Although, it was nice to know that people still cared for you even after your undercover disappearance for the last six months.

You smiled, pausing when you saw Zuho laying on the bed, saline attached to his right hand vein and catheter hanging on the other side. You showed your badge to the cards and the barcode right above your right hand elbow. As soon as they verified both, you almost slowed down, tracing the board that held his information.

You did your best to hold back your tears, repeatedly blinking, walking and turning around. Clearing your throat, you stood up and shook your shoulders in a motion that was similar to shaking the weight off. You sat back down, leaning on Zuho’s shoulder and grasping his hand, you softly squeezed. The last of your relief washed over you and you desperately wanted the feeling to come back.

It felt good and after so long, you knew that your battles had only just begun. You had made a mistake by bringing him here. But it was either that or he would have died by the time they had gotten him to a hospital past the civilian areas. Zuho woke up, seeing your form peaceful. He was overwhelmed, mouth dry and a groan escaped his lips causing your head to snap up.

You handed him a glass of water, his thirst as a result of the injection he had been given. You smiled, reaching over to place a kiss on his cheek. ‘’Should I just stay with you?’’ he groggily asked, gently squeezing your hand when you smiled, placing another gentle kiss to his cheek. ‘’You should stay’’ you commented, having already chosen a plan with your commander.

It included Zuho and all you needed was his approval on his part. You pressed the button on the control and you kicked your shoes off, joining him. ‘’I was worried about you all the time, you know.’’ you spoke, breaking the peaceful silence. He had been stationed not far from you but you could never see him. Such meetings were prohibited. At the end of every three weeks, you did meet and bask in each other’s warmth in your provided house.

But once every twenty-one days was not enough. He always wanted to be with you but there was the risk of your jobs clashing and interfering with your work plans. ‘’I was worried about you too. It was hard not to’’ he replied, nudging your cheek with his nose. He wanted to reunite with you right now, squeezing your arm as he slid down to your waist.

You connected your lips, running through his soft hair, grasping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Your bodies touched, the warmness exchanging in your own space. You put a hand on his chest, smiling as you leaned back, whispering in his ear, ‘’ We can’t, you have a catheter on’’.

Only for this context was it a moment of finality and his ears almost burned when he groaned, kissing you and leaning back, throwing his head back on the pillow. Your laughs mingled and you patted his better leg, getting off the bed. ‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, eyes curiously wide and hand reaching for your presence.

You hummed, a bounce in your step as you said, ‘’I’ll go get some food for us’’. He nodded, pausing when you spoke up once again, ‘’I was just thinking of how to pleasure you. Think about it while I’m gone.’’, patting the wall as you left. Upon hearing you, he groaned, letting out a small cry. The catheter was the least of his problems because it was the wound that would take most time to heal.

He smiled at your words, looking at the direction in which you left, thinking, what a person. However, he was filled with an even bigger sense of determination. He would live and see this problem to its end. And then he would buy a house with you and have kids. He could see himself eating the food he cooked and watching tv with them all day, smiling into his dream. Your relationship was never founded from this war anyways.

It was never torn apart because of it and you always stood by each other’s side. He decided that he would fight beside you, taking your guidance and training himself for the final war to come. He imagined a gun in his hand, pulling the trigger over the perpetrators of violence against the civilians he had spent months building trust with.

Taeyang came home bone-tired. His shoulders ached, joints unnecessarily struggling. There was a familiar tiredness in his body, radiating throughout. It seeped into whole wavelengths and he was sure that you noticed it. And it was hard not to as he mumbled something incoherent, resting his head on your shoulder, sighing as he inhaled the smell of home.

Secure was the feeling that surrounded him, the one he realised was the most important after being in this industry for so long. So normal were some things that many didn’t even notice how invading it was. He found that it came from his members, his family and you. To get home after a long day and not be all alone in the house. It was the knowing that saved him from rolling his eyes and falling asleep on the floor.

You awed, snuggling into him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, hearing him whisper, ‘’I’m too tired, we should go to sleep’’. His stomach garbled, empty from hours of burning and burning, tirelessly or passionately, easy to understand that he had some sort of fire raging within him. All that fire was laying low now, needing fuel to rage. You chuckled, grasping his hand as you asked, ‘’How was your day?’’, leading him to the kitchen.

He nodded, giving you a thumbs up and slumping on the table. You turned around in surprise as he whined a little, telling you belatedly, ‘’There are too many things to do. I have to shower, wash up, eat and then sleep. It’s like there is a never-ending list of things to do.’’. You cracked up at his statement, drawing some chuckles from him too.

‘‘I’m just saying, you know.’‘ he said as you placed noodles in front of him. The smell was enough to wake him up as he perked up, drooping eyes being set aside. ‘’I ate, you go ahead.’’ you said, motioning to his food.

‘’What time did you get home?’’ he asked in between bites.

‘‘Afternoon’‘

‘‘Was it tiring? How was it?’‘, he questioned, slurping the noodles.

You hummed, nodding, ‘’Tiring and we did the best that we could. Anyways, I don’t have to leave until tomorrow afternoon. So, at the office-’’.

Twirling the noodles around, he listened to your story, commenting, ‘’You did it because you thought it was best. The important thing is that now they know. They don’t have questions and stuff.’’

You agreed, ‘’They don’t have questions and they aren’t confused’’, continuing, ‘’The competition is tough, you must be stressed no?’’

‘‘You know what I’m worried about. Although it is the same old, even if we manage to get something out of this, I will be proud’‘.

You wowed, replying, ‘’You should always be proud of your team. It’s not easy wanting something. When your own standards haven’t been met for a long period of time, you don’t realise that you’ve been trying to achieve even the littlest of things.’’

He was silent at your statement, inquisitive to your words, gears turning in his head. ‘’Between the both of us, it will be stronger if it comes from you. Aim higher, this is the real-world so be careful of what you want.’’

‘‘Fair enough, not everyone gets what they want’‘ he hummed, washing his bowl.

Shifting to the bed, he joined you after his shower, bouncing on the mattress with a sigh of content. Like a child receiving their favourite toy, he smiled upon meeting the comforter, its warmth hugging him. You held him to your chest and he snuggled right in, lulling to the way you carded your fingers through his hair.

The night was pleasant, enough for him to kick the covers off, speaking to you with closed eyes, ‘’This competition will keep me awake forever’’. He chuckled, continuing, ‘’I’m buzzing right now’’.

You lolled, ‘’Buzzing? You did the most activity around today and you are still awake? That’s remarkable’’. The comment drew Taeyang to open his eyes who gently poked your side, chuckling as he commented himself, ‘’Are you asleep?’’. You hummed, throwing your leg over him and asking, ‘’What do you want?’’.

He lay awake, pondering over your question and you literally peeled open your eyes to tell him, ‘’Sleep Tae, nothing bad will happen. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.’’. He turned around at your statement, bringing you closer to him. You were safely tucked away in your fiancé’s arms and the two of you slept until late dawn, only stumbling in the kitchen for some lunch.

He groaned, over and over again. Ever since he had laid down to sleep, he felt nauseous, its grip vice in his stomach and throat. He tossed back and forth, side to side, changing positions to comfort himself. He was alarmed at the sensitivity of his body, aware that something was wrong, but was unable to discern till the last moment that he would vomit.

He released the gruesome contents into the bucket he had prepared mid-struggle. He was scared. He did not want to experience the same thing again. The pain in his throat was like stinging, but from the inside. It was like something had clawed through, letting the marks fester. He kept wondering why this was, it had never happened to him before.

He grasped his head, the pain causing him to fall back onto the bed and close his eyes. Till the pain had passed, he did not move an inch, holding still. The pain faded away and after laying down some more, he picked up his heavy bones and made his way to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

He called out to you in the darkness, cautiously entering to find you. For the type of person you were, he knew that you’d take action immediately, questions later but he didn’t think that mattered. It was more about the fact that he loved you and felt comfortable in your arms.

He knew that it would be a heavy confession for you, if he ever got around to telling you about it. His feelings about you were big and complex, especially when he was unaware of how you felt about him. You were dead asleep, softly snoring but when a specific word like ‘’Noona?’’ floated in your head, your eyebrows furrowed and you wondered if you were really dreaming.

Waking up with a jolt, you groggily asked him, ‘’Are you okay?’’, reaching out for him in the darkness. He shook his head and you pulled him to sit on the bed, him telling you in reply, ‘’I puked’’.

You awed, pulling him in for a hug. He looked so adorable as he said it, a small pout adorning his face, cheeks probably pink and cutely looking at you. He looked small in this moment and you couldn’t help but bring him into your arms, comfortingly running your hands through his hair while whispering soothing words of praise.

You also could not help pouting yourself, deep sadness spreading within you as you thought of him in pain, thinking, poor baby. ‘’I should-’’, ‘’Huh?’’ overlapped as he quickly got up, starting to regret his decision to come here. You grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the bed. ‘’You can sleep here’’ you motioned, separating your pillows to give him one.

You got into the covers, leaving half the bed for him. He opened his mouth in question and you rested on your elbow, telling him, ‘’If you aren’t comfortable enough, you can go back. Trust me, I won’t mind. It’s all the same to me’’. You cleared your throat, laying back down, regretting your last set of words. He got into the bed, thinking at the same time, Alright, it’s all the same.

After resting for a couple of seconds, you turned around, saying, ‘’I lied, it’s not the same to me’’. He hummed, snapping his head to you, taken aback by your taking back. Exposing his beautiful gummy smile in the near darkness, he replied, ‘’Just to be clear, I feel the same way about you’’. It was shorter than he had anticipated because you had given a response he had not thought would happen.

‘‘What’s on your mind?’‘ you asked and through some small words, it became a better conversation. He elaborated himself and under the softness of the light, you curled up into each other. You snuggled in each other’s warmth, some peacefulness filling this hectic lives of yours. You pressed a kiss to his temple as he slept like a baby, keeping a close eye on his condition throughout the night.

Chani was asleep, amongst the fluffy covers that enveloped his frame from head to toe. Snuggled with an air of warmth around him, insulating him from the slight cold of the autumn breeze, he softly snored in the midst. The clock of his sleep was ticking for almost ten hours now and so peacefully did he look as he slept that you let him be.

After running from pillar to post and staying up for filming, he was undeniably exhausted. His eyes would not open, heavy in their mood and feeling almost like tape held them together. Prying them open, he groaned, catching your attention. The refusal of his eyes were utmost and so he shut them and laid back down, comforting himself on the pillows. You moved from your desk to the bed and you laid a hand on his chest, softly calling out, ‘’Baby?’’.

Hearing no response, you leant over him, giving him a kiss and gently shaking him. You repeatedly whispered your nickname for him, hiding your head in the crook of his neck and snuggling into the warm space. You chuckled as he hazily groaned, words indistinct to your ears, laying a hand on your waist.

You had just finished completing your report, thinking nonsense vacation dreams to yourself of the things you could do if you had time off for the next few days. ‘‘I’m up’‘ he noted, pulling his eyelids open regardless of how much they hurt. When he found clarity, he switched your positions so that he was facing you. ‘’Go back to sleep but I just wanted to know if you were okay.’’ you stated, placing another soft kiss to his jawline.

His cheeks were puffed from having just woken up and he looked adorable. If you had told him that he would have asked, ‘’Why?’’ and tossed his head back and forth in playful frustration. Even then you would have found him cute. You tucked a stray hair back into the softness, admiring his sleepy form, eyes barely staying open as he lingered over you.

‘’I won’t go back to sleep’’ he murmured, making you chuckle, knowing that sooner or later he would lay on his back again and doze into another world. He shook himself awake as you replied, ‘’It looks like you need sleep though’’ causing him to roll his eyes. He hummed, throwing a leg over you and nestling into your neck, probably still in the state where he felt as if he was dreaming.

You kissed his neck, peppering a trail of light kisses in the same area, combing through his hair. He could feel the touch of your lips leave a trace of warmth on every spot, gently urging him to wake up. After a couple of minutes, Chani inquisitively asked, ‘’How long was I asleep for?’’ startled at the answer you gave him. He poked his head out from the crook of your neck, staring at you with open eyes as he registered the double-digit number.

‘‘I had work to do...’‘ he said, trailing off. After two seconds of debating, he plopped back into your warmth, deciding that he could do it later. Lightly pushing his shoulder emitted a groan from him, one that resembled ache. Plopping on his back, your giggle turned into concern as you asked him, ‘‘Are you feeling okay?’‘.

‘‘My back hurts, and legs too.’‘ he nodded, playing with strands of your hair. You hummed, asking, ‘‘Do you want me to give me you an oil massage?’’. He perked up at the idea, graciously kissing you and telling you that he would return the favour.

As he sat on the bed, you admired his toned back. Squirting a bit of oil onto your palm, you rubbed your palms together and at the first touch, he relaxed. You brought both your thumbs together, rubbing in circles and squeezing the ache from his muscles.

He moaned in delight, hands on knees as he lost himself in the pleasure. It was like the pain was evaporating from his overworked muscles. You chuckled at his noises, his soft whines escaping when you touched a particular part in the middle of his back. When you were done, you grasped his face and kissed him passionately.

His hands wandered around your waist, tugging at the hem of your top. You giggled in delight, breaking away from the kiss, meeting his eyes. He grabbed your legs that had been straddling his waist and leaning back from planting another kiss onto your neck, he asked you, ‘’Should I do you?’’.

You squealed as he tossed you on the bed, motioning to your top and as you took it off, he began his lustful descent, starting by him dragging the whole thing out, leaving you in beautiful shambles.

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 4 years ago

Text

Elf got your tongue? (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: When your tongue gets stuck on a pole in some snowy slopes, and orcs are approaching, the Fellowship has to get a little creative to unstick you.

“What is it?” you curiously asked, staring up at a glistening pole.

Under the morning sun, the snowy slopes sparkled like diamond crust. Yourself and the Fellowship had trekked far since Rivendell, and you now found yourself climbing high in the snow.

What you did not expect, however, was to stumble across a tall, silver pole.

“It is a landmark, Y/n,” Gandalf answered. His tone was edged in both fatigue and annoyance, from his place at the front of the resting group.

“A landmark for what?” Pippin pitched in, walking up to stand beside you.

Your hands were on your hips, as you squinted up at the sky to view the entirety of the pole. You felt your palms grow clammy at the thought of the tall height, as well as the blue eyes a few feet away sneaking a glance at you.

So much for the inconspicuousness of elves, you figured.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought hard to play it cool. Although, your feelings soon won you over, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance back. When you did so, however, you caught the eye of Legolas.

He widened his eyes quickly, and cleared his throat as he looked away. You smiled at the reddening of his ears, and resisted the urge to grin giddily with a chewing of your lower lip.

“It signifies our position in the north, Peregrine Took,” Gandalf snapped again.

Pippin clamped his mouth shut, and looked up at you with a mischievous smile. You then both tried hard to not snicker at the grumpy wizard.

“Speaking of which,” Aragorn piped up, with a keen eye trained on the horizon, “it appears our efforts travelling north will not benefit us. Gandalf, would we not be better off observing our path ahead from atop the slope?”

“Perhaps…” Gandalf agreed. He ultimately sighed and began stepping up the steep incline of snow. “The rest of you wait here by the pole, whilst I scope out our path ahead. Nobody do anything foolish! Especially you three—Y/n, Meriadoc and Peregrine.”

In response, the three prematurely accused friends upheld their palms. You all shook your heads and gave promising smiles to the wizard.

He merely only growled something under his breath, before slowly tearing his eyes away and beginning his ascent.

Dropping his hands slowly, Merry leaned across to you. “Bet you won’t lick that pole.”

“Bet,” you confidently replied back.

Only one minute had passed since Gandalf had walked up the slope, and only one minute had passed since you decided to lick the pole. With one long swipe of your tongue, you were alarmed to find your flesh frozen against the pole.

Merry and Pippin thought you to be joking at first, until they caught the panic in your eyes. With Boromir, Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, Sam and Frodo a few feet away commenting on the path ahead, and pointing out at the slopes, you and the two other hobbits tried to remove your tongue.

However, it was to no avail. You whimpered at the burning sensation in your tongue, and pushed the two boys away as they tried to pull you free. All they did was cause your tongue further pain, for it appeared no such unsticking would occur.

Legolas caught your sounds of hurt, and like a mother drawn to a baby’s cries, he threw his head over his shoulder.

“Oh my…” he attempted to say, before his sentence trailed off with a shocked widening of his eyes.

He knew instantly what kind of trouble the two hobbits had put you in, and would have laughed loudly had Aragorn not spoken up in alarm.

“Nobody panic, or make any drawing movements, but we are being tracked by a group of orcs—below the slope, a league or less behind us.”

“WHAT—” you had gone to say, but mewled instead at the stretching of your tongue.

Catching your oddly muffled voice, the five other boys turned to look over their shoulders.

“Y/n? Oh, for the LOVE OF—” Boromir went to curse, but was cut off by Aragorn instead.

The ranger flew forwards to assist you, and to assess the severity. “We cannot linger by the pole! They’ll be on us in minutes!”

You made another string of unintelligible words, but ceased quickly with a wince at the tearing of your tongue. It was stuck, and stuck good.

“We need to boil water!” Gimli proclaimed, already fetching a pot from Sam’s rucksack.

“There’s no time!” Legolas answered, eyeing off the approaching orcs.

“It’s been an honour knowing you, Y/n,” Merry joked, placing his hand solemnly on your shoulder.

He then made a move to run away towards Gandalf, but was halted by an outstretched arm from Boromir. The captain gave an unimpressed thinning of his lips, but was still looking ahead towards the orcs.

“Maybe we can pee on—” Pippin had gone to offer.

“NO!” you cut off.

“Well, how else can we boil water quickly?” Legolas asked in frustration. “It’s not as though we were born with internal heaters!”

At that, everyone went quiet. Maybe he was onto something…

The elf’s hands were on his hips, as he shook his head at the ground in thought and tapped his foot. However, upon hearing nothing from his friends, he looked up.

All eyes blinked back at him, even yours, as you stared at the prince with your tongue still out and stuck against the pole.

“WE perhaps cannot heat anything very quickly as mortals…” Aragorn alluded. “But elves have different bodily regulations.”

“What are you—oh…” Legolas began to hiss, before he came to the same realization as everyone else.

He looked at a very sheepish you next, and swallowed his nerves. Sighing and holding out his hand, Legolas motioned for Aragorn’s water cannister.

The ranger complied, and handed the lifeline over with an apologetic look thrown your way. Legolas then eyed off the canister with an apprehensive expression, but soon sighed after.

He began unscrewing the lid, before he discovered that all eyes were still on him. He narrowed his gaze and furrowed his brows, and defended himself with, “Well, I can’t do it with you all watching!”

Giving one more glance down at the running orcs, who were gaining speed, everyone but you and Legolas nodded and jogged up the slope to advise Gandalf of the incoming attack.

Left alone in the cold, and shivering for more than one reason, you tried to look everywhere but at the elf taking a long swig of water. Dropping the cannister from his lips, with a glance over his shoulder at the orcs, Legolas swished the water around in his mouth until it was warm.

Walking over nervously, Legolas kept a good few feet between the two of you. He then caught your eye and asked for consent. Sighing and nodding your head, you looked back up at him.

Nodding back, with cheeks full of warm water puffed out, Legolas, spurting like a fountain, blew a stream down to where your tongue was stuck to the pole. However, it wasn’t enough—more a trickle, really.

“That’s not going to be enough!” you tried to say—muffled once again, though.

Making a scared noise of protest, with his cheeks still mostly full, Legolas stepped in closer to you. Hesitating for a moment, Legolas lowered and lifted his head a few times, finding the whole situation very uncomfortable.

However, with the roaring of orcs nearby, he was soon reminded of the hastiness of the situation. Lowering his head to become eye level with you, and holding your fixated gaze, Legolas tentatively leaned his mouth in close to yours.

Only a few centimetres away from your stuck tongue, he began slowly pouring the warm water out from his mouth past pursed lips. Both of your faces flushed at the closeness of it all—something so similar in action to a tender kiss.

Slowly, but surely, the warm water—intertwined with good old-fashioned royal spit—thawed your tongue. Feeling it unstick, you jolted away from the pole. At the same time, Legolas quickly stood upright and swallowed the rest.

Stretching your mouth out and running your tongue all over the inside of your own mouth, fighting against the fact that you could taste him, you quickly found your words again.

“Thank you,” you forced out.

“No worries,” he replied, in just as much of an uncomfortable tone as yours.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed between you two, before the reminder of orcs dawned on you both.

“We should probably—” Legolas began, nodding over his shoulder at the awaiting Fellowship.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

With that, you both nodded at one another, before sprinting up the slope.

#lord of the rings #lotrdaily #lotr movies #the hobbit #elves #hobbit #legolas #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #Legolas x reader #fellowship x reader #middle earth x reader #lotr legolas #legolas imagine #legolas greenleaf #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #lotr reader insert #lotr shitpost

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devildomdoofus · 4 years ago

Text

Lemon Dreams: Part 1

[NSFW]

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan

a bit of spicey lil dreams the brothers have of MC. If requested, I’ll add the undateables (minus Luke) into a Part 3.

Gender-Neutral as always.

MINORS:

DO NOT INTERACT

DO NOT PROCEED

Be smart, have common sense.

I’m not responsible for your irresponsibility.

You see the warnings. I put them out plainly. Adhere.

‼️WARNINGS‼️

NSFW, mature theme, mature content, implied intercourse, nudity, swearing, light bondage, BDSM, tidbit of pet play, wet dreams,

IF I MISSED ANY, PLEASE INFORM ME

Author’s Note (Sorry, I’ll try to be brief):

Trying my hand at some “light” N S F W content to see how I do and see how it goes.

Thank you all, once again, for the love and support and positive responses!! You’re enjoyment is the reason I keep doing what I love to do✨ Please: stay healthy, stay safe, stay you, and stay ruling them all, MCs 💕

- DevildomDoofus

💙Lucifer:

Regrettably, it has been nearly a millennia since he’s had any amount of a decent shuteye due to his brothers’ antics, his oversight of R.A.D., and obligations to Diavolo so you can only imagine the amount of fatigue that he felt in his mind, body, and soul. But because of his image and his own personal desire to be nothing short of perfect, he couldn’t simply rest whenever or wherever he pleased. It was outlandish to even consider the idea. Unfortunately, the side effects of denying himself any form of rest were starting to show. It was causing him to make mistakes he wouldn’t normally make and Diavolo had to personally intervene, using his authority on behalf of his dear friend’s health or lack thereof and demanded that he take a day off. He was the only one in all of the realms that could try and convince this workaholic to put on the breaks. You, yourself, have tried before but Lucifer was as stubborn as the days of summer were long and you felt like you were talking to a brick wall. But because Lucifer could not deny his prince’s demands, he reluctantly obliged... but not without absolute confirmation that nothing would go wrong while he was absent and as soon as he felt rested enough, he would return immediately.

Locking himself away in his room while putting a soundproof spell on the outside of it, he finally sits down at his desk and leans back in his chair as he sluggishly closes his eyes. The silence was both mildly relaxing and extremely uncomfortable as it was so rare for the world around him to be so... quiet. so undisturbed. So peaceful.

It was a bit unnerving.

He sighs deeply. This whole resting thing was going to be a lot more difficult than he originally thought. He stands up to go grab a vinyl record, places it on the antique gramophone and turns the device on. The orchestra makes their way through the metal funnel and the melody of the instruments echo beautifully throughout his room. “Much better,” he hums to himself. He tosses his coat aside, unbuttons his vest and drops it to the floor, removes his button-up shirt, kicks off his shoes, and does away with his belt while his pants follow suit. He dons his nighttime robe and finally slides into his bed. As soon as he hits the mattress, his eyes shut and his mind turns off, allowing him to drift swiftly into a deep slumber.

The dream started out like any other dream he’s had in his life; it’s mundane and not much is going on. It’s practically the same as ‘bringing work home with him’ but in his dreams. He’s at his desk, crossing his t’s, dotting his i’s, finalizing some paperwork, and the like, while the stress from his waking hours begins to find its way back to him like a boomerang.

Then, as if by magic, all of his stress melted away as soon as he heard a knock on his door along with your voice calling for him softly on the other side. He smirks. “You may enter.” He kept his head low as you stepped in due to the fact that he was finishing signing a particular paper. “Just a moment,” he instructs, as the last cursive letter finds its place on the paper. He begins to lift his eyes to meet yours. “Now, what can I do for yo-...” He freezes.

There you were, standing before him, in nothing but one of his ties hanging loosely around your neck. His jaw clenches and his fist tighten into a ball so firmly that his knuckles turn white under his gloves.

‘Like a lamb to it’s slaughter,’ he quotes, internally.

Needless to say, the dream takes a more DRASTIC turn and he’s got you bent over the desk, hands tied up with his tie that you so graciously considered to bring with you, and his name pouring out of your lips like a faucet. He’s taking you all for himself, piece by divine piece, with every snap of his hips, bite of your skin, and claw of your flesh. What a sight you were beneath him.

The moment he wakes, his body is covered in a ‘morning’s dew’ of sweat and the sheets of his bed have become painfully heavy on his lower half. His heart is still thumping wildly in his chest and his eyes are darting everywhere in his room, ensuring that he’s alone and no one can see him in such a disheveled state. He uses part of his robe to dab away the sweat from his brow and then rubs his eyes as he collects himself.

Spends the next many few hours calming himself down and hoping that he is blessed by some unholy miracle where NOBODY walks in...

especially you...

with nothing but his tie hanging loosely around your neck and-...

Ah shit.

The following morning at breakfast, he is eyeing you rather heavily from across the table and his brothers take notice but never dare to say a word. They just assume that you’ve done something to piss him off again and want no part of it.

They are not entirely wrong, though. You had unknowingly irked him quite a bit.

You entered his dreams without permission, made such a delectable spectacle of yourself in front of him, and caused him to feel things that no other demon, angel, human, nor any other soul for that matter, has been able to make him feel. And now he has to deal with these explicit thoughts and feelings, especially when you’re around or in his vicinity, along with many other things that demand his attention and it’s all just so irritating. Delightfully irritating. The kind of irritating he secretly enjoys.

The next few days, you never really get the sense that anything is off with Lucifer for how well he carries himself, no matter his circumstances, and yet... he seems to be less physical with you. Normally, he would give you the occasional hand on the shoulder or upper back when you needed guidance, allow you to lean on his shoulder when your days had been particularly rough and you needed to rest, or pinch your cheek when he teased you but lately... he wouldn’t even keep eye contact with you for very long without turning away and- was that a hint of pink in his cheeks? No, surely you are imagining things. Lucifer, blushing? Has the devildom froze over?

💛Mammon:

This poor, sweet and a little bit sleazy man was just SO exhausted from having to get up early that morning when he’d normally sleep in, to go to a school he doesn’t ever really pay attention to, as well as constantly keep lower demons from getting anywhere near his precious MC, bribe Levi to do his homework in exchange for an exclusive Ruri-Chan figurine (which he went into further debt to obtain), keep his overbearing fanbase from his modeling jobs happy on social media... it all was simply too much for The Great Mammon to be doing when he could alternatively be doing something better. Like being lazy sleeping off this R.A.D lag.

He had skipped his last few remaining classes and told you he was headed to your room to crash before school let out and you two could hang out later. He plopped onto your bed, nuzzled his face into one of your pillows, and fell asleep shortly after to your sweet aroma surrounding him.

His dream began as they typically do, with him gambling his Grimm for higher payouts or watching the Devildom stock market fluctuate in his favor... or more often times than he’ll ever admit, it’s just the two of you spending some quality time together alone for a change.

Only this time, his dream didn’t end up the way it typically did.

In his dream, he was sitting next to you on the sofa with his arm resting behind your head wanting to wrap it around you so fucking badly and watching whatever you had put on when it was interrupted by the winning lottery ticket read out. He leapt from couch with a big yell and the winning ticket in hand, and rushed to hug the tv and to kiss the demon inside of it, thanking him, Lady Luck, and anyone else involved in his incredible fortune today. As he turned around to come squeeze you tight with excitement and have you share in his celebration, his whole body tensed and he stopped in his tracks. He had become a deer in the headlights.

You were now lewdly postured on the couch, bare and exposed, excluding how you were practically dripping in gold jewelry/accessories whilst surrounded by enormous piles of Grimm. With one finger, you beckoned him over.

To say that this is one of his all time favorite fantasies would be THE understatement of the millennia.

He was in front then over you in a matter of milliseconds, his demon form taking over his body and stealing noises from you that the entire House of Lamentation- no- the entire Devildom could hear and FUCK he loved that thought almost as much as he adored you he cared about you; the thought that the entire Devildom could hear that you were his and his alone, that no other soul could make you feel like this.

And just as it was about to get really good, he wakes up.

Red faced, breathing heavily, and a thick coat of sweat all over his body. Not to mention the newfound, painful tightness in his pants.

He’s jerking his head around the room to confirm hoping to deny that is was all simply a dream, and to be certain that you hadn’t come back from school early or something and found him like this.

“Unholy shit.” He wipes the sweat from his face and then takes his phone in his hand to check the time. “UNHOLY SHIT!!” You had texted that you were on your way back home 10 minutes ago! He had to be quick.

He replaced the sweaty sheets and pillow cases with new ones, adjusting them so that it looked as it had before he slept on them, tied his school uniform coat around his waist to disguise the ‘friendly neighborhood bachelor,’ and darted like a bat out of devildom to his room, avoiding major hallways and doors to ensure that no one could stop him or chase him down and see him in his predicament.

You can be sure that for the next few weeks, he’s avoiding you like the plague. He sends texts that he is “paying off a debt and can’t make it,” or “Sorry MC, I’m a little tied up at the moment. This Grimm won’t make itself.” and to you it was a little odd, but nothing he hasn’t exactly done before, so you go about your days as normal. Poor Mammon has once spent an entirety of four months working a few jobs to pay off one big loan.

If only you knew how often he was reliving that dream in his head, over and over and over again. For such a thing to become reality? Well... he feels he’d have better luck winning the lottery. But just as he gambled, he wouldn’t give up so easily.

🧡Leviathan:

It is not uncommon for Leviathan to have certain dreams about certain individuals he enjoys, be it anime characters, video game characters, idols that he fawns over, etc. It’s normal. Quite often, in fact, but he would rather LITERALLY DIE before he ever admits to such a thing, much less have anyone think he has a crush. With his brothers as they are known to be, he’d never live it down. Which is one of the reasons why he keeps himself locked away in his room and goes on binges of whatever it is he’s invested in at the time. He’s left alone to do and be as much of himself as he pleases without judgment. It is one particular episode of an anime he had been bingeing for several hours that has him with his head resting upon his keyboard and ever so slightly snoring away as the characters converse in the background. It wasn’t boring in the least, it’s just that his eyes refused to stay open any longer and his body decided for him that it was about time for a proper nap.

His dream began as normal, with him on a quest to save the renowned, royal heir from the ten-headed beast that guarded the tower in which they were kept. The journey to the tower was extensive and not without its obstacles, the battle was epic, in every sense of the word, and the reward for it’s heads would match the gratification of the victory that ensued it.

Little did he know that in that tower, it wasn’t just any royal heir lying in wait for their prince to come, as they had always been. It was you.

You, in all of your glory, draped across the bed and adorned with the finest of cloths that were barely covering your most intimate of skins.

As he entered your bedroom chambers, expecting to find a fictional character he adored in his waking hours, he stops dead in his tracks and his entire body turns red hot in matter of seconds. You could easily hear the thumping of his heart throwing heavy blows at his ribcage, and, if you looked close enough, you could see the steam trickling out of his ears. You could also hear the clinking of his amor, the metal plates shaking against one another as he trembles before you.

Leviathan.exe has stopped working.

Yes, he’s had plenty of dreams like this before but.. fuck.. they were never of you. Much less like this. Believe him, he’s tried on many occasions to at least see your face or hear your voice, ANYTHING. But inevitably, his anxiety and shyness won in the end and you never came passing through his dreams... until now.

You leant against one arm, your lips curling into a smile, and then beckoned him silently with one crook of a finger.

Anxiety and shyness who?

He quickly does away with the heavy armor, tossing them aside, and crawls across the bed to you, to your face, to those precious lips.

He takes a hold of them in his own and seemingly devours you as he strips you of what little cloth covered you and then pushes you back down against the bed. The dream continues with your bodies intertwining in every way that earned him the lewdest of noises from you.

Until he jerks awake with his face a deep shade of crimson, body covered from head to toe in a mist of sweat, and a heartbeat that could put a drum solo to shame. He quickly scans his surroundings as he’s coming back to reality, making sure he’s the only one within a mile’s radius. If anyone thought he was a hermit now, you can only imagine what it would be like if he was caught looking the way that he did. The anime that he had fallen asleep to was now on a screen that was asking for confirmation if he was still watching. He presses the power button on his computer and wipes away the sweat on his brow before leaning back in his chair, eyes glued to the ceiling as he’s recollecting the dream. He sees the faces you were making in pleasure pass through his mind once more and it makes his face turn 30 shades redder and increases the painful tightness in his snug sweatpants. He shakes his head, no longer wanting to continue digging this grave of overwhelming lust, and plants his head back onto the keyboard. Lord Diavolo, please, just kill him now.

The following months, Leviathan stays locked away in his room and avoids you as if you were the final boss of a game he never wants to stop playing. He knew that if he saw you, got near you, or even heard your name being mentioned, there would be no way of stopping his thoughts, his body’s reactions to those thoughts, nor his brother’s comments about how he’s “acting awfully strangely.”

As much as he wishes that he never had the dream in the first place because of all of the trouble it’s causing, he can’t help but relive it over and over again, putting it on repeat in his mind. But to admit to you these powerful feelings and attempt to bring it to reality? Only normies do such a thing... right?

💚Satan:

Line after line, chapter after chapter, book after book, he simply could not put the new series he had discovered down. He was so invested, he’d finish one book and immediately pick up the next. His mind was reeling far too fast for him to stop now and nothing in all of the three realms could do so. That is until his own body waved it’s white flag and begged for him to shut his eyes, even if for just moment. Satan bargained, internally, that he’d allow himself roughly thirty minutes of rest before he’d pick back up where he left off. He sets the book on a nearby desk, settles down onto his loveseat and closes his eyes.

As a man of many talents and faces, his dreams were known to be as heavily diverse as he was, and often times reflected whatever book he had been reading, philosophy he had been pondering, or stress he had been managing. No one particular type of dream frequented more than another.

That being said, in the past few weeks, you had been a bit more physical with him. Whether it was a simple brush of the hands as you two reached for the same novel, late night study sessions ending up in late night study and cuddling sessions, or the occasional linking of arms as the pair of you walked the length of a museum and studied its inhabitants. It goes without saying that you were making an impression on him and his mind, leaving little to no room for any other thoughts than the ones involving you. Naturally, you had found your way into his dreamworld and you were the one constant in the ever changing slumber visions.

The dreams that you were involved in, which were now a majority of them, were mostly sweet; the most intimate being the one time you had placed a chaste kiss upon his cheek. If you were to ask him about these dreams that had him chipper than usual, he would smile and tell you that “they were simply pleasant hallucinations but nothing more.” And he’d be lying through his teeth, desperately trying to keep his cheeks from reddening in front of you. If you were lucky enough that his gaze lingered, you’d catch the tint of pink making its way across his face. The poor inner romantic in him couldn’t help himself. He’s mastered the art of poker face in its entirety, but when it came to you, his willpower and calm demeanor waned into nothingness and he was like putty in your hands. Just don’t push it or there will be Devildom to pay.

This particular time around, though, his dream would take a more unforeseen turn.

In his dream, he had invited you to join him on an outing over to the Royal Library and you two were now making your way to your favorite lone table in the farthest back corner, hidden behind the many shelves of books. After claiming your usual spot, he went to gather the books he wanted to go through and planted himself in the chair to finally open them up and get started. Meanwhile, you had wandered off, presumably, to find and create your very own mountain of novels to conquer.

An hour or so passed and he had made his way through five of his books when he felt a tap against the cover of the one he was currently reading. “Forgive me, MC, but I’m almost done with this paragraph and I need just one more moment to do so.” Another tap against the cover. “May it wait, MC? I’m nearly finished.” This time, you gingerly grabbed the tip of his book and tilted it away from him (a pet peeve of his). Just as he was about to give you his trademark glare of warning, his eyes widen and his jaw clenches, with his fingers letting go of the book and tightening into a fist taut enough to turn his knuckles white.

There you stood before him in little to no clothing, fluffy little cat ears and a tail to match, with a leash and collar adorning your precious neck. You took his stiffened hand, ever so slowly opened it up, and delicately placed the end of the lead into his palm, flashing him your cheekiest grin.

Now you’ve gone and done it. He snaps.

He jerks the end of the lead so that you’re aggressively pulled forward, bending over the table and sending the piles of books to the floor with audible thuds, and your lips crash into his. He uses his free hand to trap cradle the other side of your face as he devours your lips, devours your taste. Impatient and hungry, he soon lets you go with a low growl before standing up and dragging you behind him, forcefully, by the lead, coming to the front of a shelf that leant against a wall and grabbed your waist, lifting you up to push you against it, having more books tumble to the floor with a sound thud, while once again, taking your lips with his. Something about the way you looked, the way you sounded because of his actions, drove him completely mad.

Before it could go any further, he jerks wakes to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He quickly scans his surroundings and when he finds it empty, he breathes a heavy sigh of relief. The knocks continue and from beyond the door, a familiar voice requests his audience. “Satan? It’s Solomon. My apologies, but I just wanted to return a borrowed book.”

He reaches for a nearby cloth and dabs away the sweat that covered his face. He steadies his breathing and in the stablest voice he could muster, he answers back, “Alright. One moment please.”

“Take your time,” the sorcerer replies.

He gathers himself quickly, as the master of his own emotions does, hoisted up from the loveseat, straightens himself out and starts to head for the door but with a quick glance downwards, he pauses. There’s no way he could greet Solomon with such a visible... display...

He takes his coat from the coatrack, wraps it around his waist and finally opens the door with a welcoming smile.

“Thank you kindly for the recommendation. It was a pleasant read,” Solomon tittered in recollection then immediately shifted into a frown of concern. “Satan... are you alright? Forgive my intrusion, but you seem a bit disheveled.” The disheveled man in question nods, chuckling in hopes of deterring Solomon from pressing any further by lightening his aura. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. I simply had a bit of a nightmare.” Solomon raised a brow and Satan continued in his tall tale. “It had been so long since I’ve had one, so I’m sure you can imagine how unnerving it’s effects had on me.” Moments passed like molasses as Solomon pondered what Satan had said and the uncomfortable silence was wearing down on Satan’s last minute, makeshift composure. “Thank you for returning the book,” Satan’s voice firmly interjecting the fellow wise man’s thoughts as he received the book from his hands, “and I’m delighted that you enjoyed yourself.” He holds the book in front of where the coat covered his waist. “If you wish for more recommendations, I’ll be happy to share them with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some tea to drink and a book to read to calm my nerves. Good day, Solomon.” Before Solomon could get a final word in, Satan slips back into his room and shuts the door. For good measure, he locks it and turns the deadbolt. He shuffles back over to the loveseat where it all began and dropped down, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a heavy sigh. The blush that wanted so desperately to creep it’s way into his complexion the moment he’d awoken was now set free and his entire face turned red. He knew how to keep a tight grip on every other emotion he’s ever had... but love? Lust? This was going to be a challenge.

Outside of the door, not having moved an inch, Solomon stood with his chin snug between the crook of his forefinger and thumb. “Can demons have nightmares...?” He audibly contemplated as he waited a moment, following his train of thought before asking himself aloud again, “If so... then why did Satan have an erection?”

A pair of delicate hands found their way to Solomon’s shoulders and he glanced over them to see Asmodeus leaning in close to his ear. “It’s called a kink, darling.” Solomon politely shoos away the embodiment of lust with a gentle wave of his hand before starting down the hall from which he came, with the demon practically skipping in tow. “Kinks, we both know, I’m aware of. I had just assumed that his.. situation.. would be more relative to Belphegor.”

“Well,” Asmodeus chirped, “that’s what you get for assuming.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome #mine #my posts #devildomdoofus #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me mc #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #mc

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imagine-nation20 · 4 years ago

Text

Careless

Summary: Reader gets sick while staying in Liyue, but they ignore it in favor of taking on commissions. Xiao is no happy when he finds out.

Requested By: Anon

Request: Heya can I request a xiao x sick reader please and thank you!

A/N: I am super inspired for Genshin Impact rn(I’ve been playing it since the day it was released, and I love it so much) so just this once, I jumped the line of requests and did this one first. Sorry, please forgive me. I just love this game a lot. Also, am I the only one that thinks that Xiao would be cold to the touch, like not freezing, but he wouldn’t really be warm? No? Just me?

~~~

You sneezed into your elbow, eyes closing. Another wave a nausea washed over you, forcing you to lean against your sword, whose point was stuck in the damp mud of Dihua Marsh. The sun beat down from the sky, warming your skin further. The thick clothing you had gotten in Mondstadt did nothing against the heat of Liyue. Maybe you would have to look into buying some different clothes the next time you stopped in at the harbor.

Your stomach turned, causing you to lean further on the sword. Your feet were holding you, but only barely. You had to find somewhere to rest that didn’t leave you at risk of getting attacked by rogue hilichurls, or worse, the Fatui. Lifting your eyes, gaze trained ahead, the only thing close by was still a ways off.

Wangshu Inn.

The giant tree towered in the distance, but it was still leagues closer than any other shelter. So, instead of complaining or focusing on your turning stomach, you steeled yourself and began to walk.

You would have to keep to the roads this time, as you couldn’t risk slipping in mud or wading through waters. This meant a higher risk of being attacked, but you’d have even less of a chance of making it to the Inn if you left the path.

By the time the shadow of the inn passed over you, the sun silhouetted the tree from where it was beginning to set. Lanterns around the area were lit up, giving off light for those who were still working.

The people milling about gave you odd looks, their eyes wide in shock at seeing the sickly sheen across your face. You tried your best not to release the contents of your stomach in front of any of them. Verr Goldet probably wouldn’t appreciate what that would do for business.

Your eyes wandered to the stair, stomach turning at the sight. With a shake of your head, you opted for the elevator instead. It was usually used for big items being carried up and down, but you figured Goldet wouldn’t mind, so long as you didn’t die on her steps.

The elevator was a shakier ride, but a shorter one than any trek up the stairs. As well, upon entering the Inn, you promptly collapse. The floor was surprisingly comfortable for something that quickly slammed into your body. The wood was polished and cool, leaving it pleasant against your burning skin.

Faintly, hurried footsteps echoed in the room. Two hands wrapped themselve around your shoulders, flipping you over. The cloth of Xiao’s gloves were soft, and just as pleasant as the cold floor.

“Hello,” You greeted, surprisingly calm and clear for the situation.

Xiao, on the other hand, was not so calm. His eyes were narrowed, the purple diamond shaped--was is a tattoo? You had never really asked about it before. Whatever it was, it was crinkled by the furrow of his brow.

Xiao didn’t bother returning your greeting. Instead, his arms moved. One wrapped around you back, the other beneath your knees. In a swift, and easy motion, he lifted you. Another thing you had never quite acknowledged before was just how incredibly strong the adeptus was.

You found yourself in your bed at the Inn before you could protest, tucked under covers that were much too warm. You squirmed, sneering at the adeptus.

“It’s hot,” You complained.

Xiao snorted, “You have to break your fever.”

“I can do that without being piled beneath a mountain of blankets.”

Xiao didn’t respond, leaving the room. He did that a lot, but you were used to filling in the gaps of his talking with either your own words, or guesses as to what his silent responses meant.

He had removed your vision, the purple orb set gently on the bedside table. You sighed. It would probably go without use for a while.

The door opened, and Xiao walked back in. His water blue hair shifted as he placed a tray down on the bedside table. A savory smell wafted from the bowl on the tray, while your favorite type of tea could be sniffed out from within the cup.

“Are you well enough to eat?” He asked, his usually rough voice softer. You nodded. Xiao moved to grab the bowl.

It was quiet a moment before the adeptus spoke up again. “I can only stay for a bit. Long enough for you to eat. If I linger, by presence may make your sickness worse.”

You wanted to protest, but knew he wouldn’t pay any head to your qualms. Instead, you huffed, taking a spoonful of the soup he had brought with him into your mouth. It was perfectly cooled.

“You should take better care of yourself,” Xiao scolded, his eyes never relenting in their usual harsh gaze. Despite that, his tone was soft. You guessed that was just the nature of the adeptus. A walking contradiction.

You sighed, “I needed mora, and there was an influx of commissions to the adventurers guild.”

Xiao narrowed his gaze further if that was possible, and quiet aggressively fed you another spoonful of soup.

“You humans are not as hardy as you would like to believe,” Xiao scoffed. “Your sicknesses will only fester and grow if you don’t take care.”

“Oh yes, us weak little mortals aren’t as powerful as you mighty adepti,” You rolled your eyes, becoming annoyed at his persistence. Normally, Xiao had very little to say, but now that you had made a mistake, slipped up, it seemed he had loads to chip away at.

There was a beat of silence. Xiao released a deep breath. “I only meant that you need to be more careful about your health…” There was audible hesitation in his voice. “I don’t wish to see you hurt due to anything, let alone carelessness.”

You stared, wide eyes at the adeptus. He was being unusually sweet. Normally his care was hidden beneath snide remarks and carefully planned statements meant to push others away. Now though, as he stared at the floor, bowl in hands, you had to admit that the sight was heartbreaking.

Your hand, shaking beyond your control from the fatigue of the day, reached out and brushed one of his longer sections of hair behind his ear. Xiao looked up, amber eyes meeting yours.

“Stay,” You said. It wasn’t a request. Xiao nevertheless opened his mouth to deny it as if it was, but he paused. His eyes stared into yours, face flushing ever so slightly.

He placed the bowl of soup back on the tray, and for a moment you thought he might be leaving. It wouldn’t be the first or last time he walked out on a conversation. Instead, he motioned for you to make room. In a haste, you scooted over in the bed, allowing Xiao to rest under the blankets next to you. His cold skin felt nice where it brushed yours. Your head rested on his collar bone, face buried in his neck, and you sighed.

“Thank you,” You whispered, and before you could drift off, cold lips pressed to your forehead, leaving a smile on your face.

#xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #xiao #xiao imagine #genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

Text

Back

School has been kicking my ass lately, but I found some time to write this little warm and fuzzy nothing. I’d love any advice or critiques!

Title: Back

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1915

Summary: Getting back to find the reader has been waiting for the Winchesters to get home from a hunt, Sam is a little nervous and more than a little happy.

Warnings: mutual pining fluff only!

Sam and Dean walked down bunker stairs slowly, their bones aching with the work of the last week. They had changed into clean clothes to drive through the night back to Kansas, but their hands and hair bore the telltale mud and blood of a hunt, and they badly needed to shower. Walking into the library, Sam took his duffel bag off his shoulder and dropped it unceremoniously but quietly.

Curled up in a chair on the other end of the table, you slept wrapped in a blanket and draped over the old wood. Your hair ground into your folded arms and the huge book you had been reading, and the pressure of your head on your cheek pouched your lips out a touch. Sam brushed his palms on his jeans somewhat fruitlessly in an effort not to dirty your face as he brushed a chunk of hair back from your temple.

“Hey,” he whispered in a low voice, his hand hovering over your shoulder. “We’re home.”

You woke with a small jolt, peeking open one eye to look up at Sam. A sleepy smile spread across your eyes as you arched back to stretch. “Hey, handsome,” you answered in the croaky voice of a nap. “How’d it go?”

“All good, no major injuries. You should be in bed,” he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Carry me?” you asked. The shy smile on your face betrayed you as only half joking.

Sam chuckled as Dean came over to them. “He smells like sweat and swamp monster ass,” Dean offered.

“Thanks Dean,” Sam said sarcastically, his voice still low. “He’s right though. Still want me to?”

You nodded with closed eyes, your contented smile showing through even as you yawned. “Dean, there’s lasagna in the fridge if you want it.” As an aside to Sam you mouthed, “vegetarian.” Sam’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he offered his arms out to you. You got up and put your arms around Sam’s neck, letting him ease you up into his chest. Your calves and socked feet dangled over his forearm.

“You’re the best,” Dean insisted, gripping an invisible fist of victory. He gathered up the blanket and stacked it on top of your stomach.

“Don’t stay up too late,” you hummed to Dean while nuzzling your head into the crook of Sam’s neck.

“I won’t, kid. I promise.” He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

Sam nodded to Dean over you, jerking his head toward the kitchen to show he’d meet his brother in a minute. He carried you back to your room and lowered you down onto your bed before spreading the blanket out on top of you.

“You didn’t need to wait up for us,” Sam said.

“I know, but I wanted to see you.”

“Well I won’t lie, it feels a lot more like home to come back to you than an empty bunker,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah?” you asked with a sly grin.

“Definitely.”

“Will you come sleep here?” Your eyebrow crooked up in question. It was loaded, definitely a pretty big step further down the tightrope you and Sam had been walking. But it had felt right to ask, and you fought back the impulse to take it back or turn it into a joke. Sam’s eyebrows lifted in soft, hopeful surprise, and it changed his whole face.

“I can if you want me to,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so.” The hesitation in your voice made his pulse race despite his fatigue.

“Uh, ok, yeah. Just let me eat something and shower and I’ll be here, I promise. Don’t wait up though.”

You nodded, trying to fight a smile by biting your lip, then pulled the blanket up under your chin and closed your eyes. Sam lingered in the doorframe for a moment, watching the light from the hallway fall on the swells and angles of your body before going to the kitchen with Dean.

Dean was already halfway into a plate of lasagna by the time Sam got there and took off his jacket.

“Dude, she’s outdone herself. This is awesome,” Dean said through the last third of a mouthful before swallowing.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great, isn’t she?” Sam asked as he walked to the fridge.

Dean looked up smugly over his fork. “What’s going on with that anyway?”

Sam closed the microwave door on a plate of lasagna and turned toward Dean. “Uh, I mean, I don’t know. She asked me to sleep with her.” Dean half-choked on a bite, coughing and grabbing at his beer bottle. His brother realized his mistake, making an exasperated face before correcting himself. “Not like that, Jesus. Like literally sleep in her room.” Dean pounded his chest with a closed fist and fought through a hoarse throat.

“Are you going to?”

“I mean, yeah. Why, should I not?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know what you should or shouldn’t do, man. Just seems awfully boyfriend-experience to me,” Dean said, his hands up in faux surrender.

“Well, yeah,” Sam conceded, getting his plate out of the microwave.

“So you’re her boyfriend?” Dean looked incredulous.

“Dean, I don’t know,” Sam whined as he sat down across from his brother.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll leave you alone about it. But know that I’m going to be pissed if things get weird between you two and she leaves. Aside from the extra backup, I can’t go back to Marie Calendar and beef jerky after this.”

Sam nodded placatingly.

You had dozed off, waking up when some lizard part of your brain realized the light had shifted in the room. Sam filled the doorway in an old t-shirt and flannel pajama pants slung low enough on his hips to expose a little sliver of skin when he walked. The smell of shampoo crossed the room as if being unfurled from his still-damp hair, the clean familiarity of it making your joints relax even further than they had in sleep. He saw the heavy lids of your eyes for the second time that night, and felt a pang of nervous affection.

“Do you still want me to, ah..?” Sam whispered like a gravel road at dusk.

You nodded, folding back the comforter next to you. He walked over, messing with the hem of his shirt like a shy teenager before crawling gently into bed. He didn’t know what to do. It felt like the first time he’d ever slow-danced with a girl at some stupid school formal—Mandy Jacobsen, freshman year of high school, wearing a shirt Dean had outgrown but was still too loose to be tucked in properly and his dad’s shoes—not knowing where to put his hands or whether it was better or worse to press against you. You waited a beat before rolling to your back to mirror him.

“Is this too weird?” you asked.

“No, no. Sorry, I just—I’m just a little keyed up from the hunt I guess.” Sam cursed himself in his head; you knew they’d driven over 7 hours to get back, it made no sense that he’d still be on an adrenaline rush. He was grateful when you didn’t say anything.

“Was it gross? When you guys had me look up bunyips I was so glad I didn’t come with on the stomp-around-in-the-swamp job.”

He chuckled quietly. “You would’ve hated it. We had to change before Dean would even unlock the car.”

“How’d you get back to the motel to change if he wouldn’t unlock it?”

“No, like out on the side of the road.”

“So you and Dean were naked on the side of the road in—where was it?”

“Stringtown, Oklahoma.”

“In Stringtown, Oklahoma, and didn’t get arrested?”

“It’s pretty rural.”

“Well thank God for that,” you giggled, turning onto your side to face him. “I would’ve had to take that stupid little Volkswagen to come and get you. You’d have needed a double knee replacement by the time we crossed the state line.”

“Then I’m even more glad.” Sam’s profile was fuzzy in the dark but you could hear his smile. When he turned to face you the tiny amount of ambient light glinted off his teeth. “I missed you,” he added, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him from inches away.

“I missed you too,” you breathed.

Sam shifted to his side and tentatively reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, you should go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to leave if I do?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” His thumb was gentle and callused against your cheek, brushing absentmindedly.

“I don’t want you to.” You twisted away from him to curl back against his chest. Sam got those same heart-thumping sweaty palms he had with Mandy Jacobsen and hoped you couldn’t feel the thrum of his pulse against you, suddenly aware of how thin the fabric separating you two was. He felt gangly and awkward in his filled-out 32 year old body, and kind of stupid for it; less than an hour ago he’d held you in his arms and he couldn’t even estimate the amount of times his hands had roamed your skin, feeling for broken bones and shards of glass or stitching up a gash. He was trying to remember what the natural thing to do here was when you reached behind to his side and pulled his arm over you, laying his palm out below your sternum and lacing your fingers in his. His hand spanned a wide swath of your torso and made you feel delicate, like something precious. After a moment, Sam let the weight of his arm settle over top of you like a cloak, the pressure soothing and protective.

You smelled like warm skin, fresh sheets, and the orange blossom soap you loved from the farmer’s market in the next town over. Sam inhaled deeply, nestling his face against your hair and feeling the heat from you and your body-warmed comforter seep into him, so opposite from the freezing bog water he’d been up to his thighs in earlier that day. He was having a hard time coming up with something that would be better than this and thought it might actually be ramping up his nerves, comfortable as it was. Instinctively he pressed his lips to your hair, feeling a jolt in his chest when it made you lean back into him.

Seems awfully ‘boyfriend-experience’ to me ran through his head and he felt an overwhelming ache. If this was the boyfriend experience, he wanted nothing else in the world. He felt your breath deepen under his palm and the weight of your body began to sink a bit in that telltale way that told him you were falling back asleep. Sam listened for a long minute to the rhythm of it.

“I love you,” he breathed, just to hear what it sounded like.

“I love you too, Sam,” you murmured, barely opening your mouth.

Sam had no time to feel embarrassed you’d heard him, hadn’t been fully asleep, as his chest swelled with helium. He shifted his calf to cover your cold feet and smiled, all to himself, into the darkness. It took him hours to drift off, but he didn’t care. There was no place he’d rather be.

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