#its cold! and my husband has the day off! and i feel lazy!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyuckkaiji · 1 year ago

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loyal she began, so she remains - sebastian x f!reader

summary; he waited too long to hold you in his arms again. he waited too long to give up now. you are his, and he will have you. pt.3

word count; 4.3k

warnings; 18+, explicit content, some physical violence, porn with a plot, mentions of cheating/infidelity

note; and they lived happily ever after. One for the Seb girlies hehehe. last last part to this little unofficial series. pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 Ominis

Sebastian twirled his wand with deft fingers, staring at the cold fireplace, listening, waiting.

It had been almost three months since he saw you. One would think three months would feel like nothing in comparison to eight years, but they would be wrong.

He longed for you, he dreamt of you, bided his time until he could hold you in his arms again. And the day came, you were there, his beautiful girl, you were in his arms after all that time. But when he awoke, you were gone, and that hurt him more than anything another wizard could ever do to him.

These months have been the worst of his life. To know where you are and not be able to claim you, it was tortuous. He doesn't blame you, he doesn't know how Ominis has messed with your head because clearly Ominis has messed with your head, there's no other explanation for you leaving his side and crawling back to that bastard.

He knows you don't love the auror, you could never love him. So what made you go back? He needs answers. He would have gotten them sooner, gotten you sooner, had it not been for your pest of a husband.

His old friend had been tracking him like a blood hound since the afternoon after the night he shared with you. But Ominis underestimated him, his skill, his intelligence. Ominis thinks he is the predator.

The door creaks slowly open, the hinges old and rusted. "You were a fool to come back here, Sallow." Ominis stood in the doorway, the grey light of the cloud filled sky seeping in behind him.

The auror took a few steps forward, letting sagging wood slowly groan as it fell shut. "You should have stayed away, I gave you your freedom, and you wasted it by trying to come back for her."

Sebastian leaned back, watching Ominis with a lazy gaze, his fingers still fiddling with his wand. "Of course I came back for her. You thought I wouldn't?" Sebastian tsks, "Truly old friend, you should have known better."

Ominis shrugs, "Your mistake, fugitive. They've already got your cell in Azkaban waiting for you."

"Have they?" Sebastian let's out a breathy laugh, Ominis' lips twitch in irritation.

"You never could take anything seriously."

"Ohh, you've caught me." Sebastian throws his hands up in mock surrender though he knows the auror cannot see the gesture.

"You've cornered the big bad fugitive. Haven't you, Gaunt?" Sebastian stands, Ominis points his wand at the abrupt action. "I cared about you once, Sallow. I have allowed that past affection to cloud my judgment. I have allowed you to walk a free man. No more."

"Free?" Sebastian sneers, "You keep saying that word, you must have forgotten its meaning for I have not been free in eight years."

"I have lived alongside the rats in sewers, I have starved, I have survived off rotting scraps. I have done much and more just to keep myself alive, and you call that freedom. What did I do to deserve that -"

"You are a murder, Sebastian!"

"I just wanted to save my sister! She was in unending pain, all I ever wanted was to help her! And you and my uncle tried to stop me! Only one person truly supported me!" Sebastian's breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling with heavy huffs.

Ominis features twisted in disgust, "My wife is not yours to claim. We are no longer children, and it has been many years since she was yours. If you had just accepted that, if you had just stayed away. The miserable existence you created for yourself would be no concern of mine."

"But alas Sallow, here we stand. All things must come to an end, you are no exception."

Sebastian barks out a laugh, "Do you plan to kill me, Gaunt?"

"You do not matter enough for me to soil my hands in such a manner."

Sebastian hums, "I only matter enough for you to personally track me for months."

"Only because you came near my wife."

"My point still stands, and I did more than just go near her."

Ominis' grip tightened on his wand, his knuckles draining of color. "Of course you would take pride in that little indiscretion. I'll have you know that my wife does not. That's why she came back home to me. She is waiting for me at home this very moment, swelling with my child."

A ball dropped in Sebastian's stomach, nauseous at the thought of you pregnant with the Aurors child. "You didn't."

A satisfied smirked pulls at Ominis lips, allowing himself to enjoy the blow, for a moment he pays no real mind to Sebastian. But a moment was all Sebastian needed. He lunged.

Sebastian's hand wrapped around Ominis', yanking his away his wand. Tossing it, where it hit against the stone corner of the fireplace, landing with the sound of wood cracking.

Sebastian couldn't explain what came over him, to fight like a muggle, to abandon his wand in the face of a fight. All he knew was he needed to feel his fists collide with Ominis face, he needed to feel the impact, hear the crunch of bone as he landed blow after blow.

He didn't know how long it went on, but when he pulled back, breathing ragged, fists covered in Ominis' blood and knuckles raw and cracked, Ominis wasn't conscious, the only sign of life was his chest rising and falling with shallow breathes.

Sebastian stood, grimacing at the scene before him. Silently thanking the gods, he hadn't lost himself enough to kill someone he once loved. He wasn't dead, and at the very least, Sebastian was grateful for that. He had done terrible things in these past years, but there were still things he could not bring himself to do. Things he could never forgive if he did. Not again.

This was for the boy he was, the boys they were. Sebastian left the auror there, a silent prayer that their paths never cross again.

When he stepped out of the worn down cottage, rain was falling, showering down on him, soaking through his clothes, washing away the blood that clung to him, washing away his sins.

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes. Letting the smell of fresh wet earth permeate his senses. He strolled through Feldcroft as if he owned it, as if he belonged, as if it was his home and his wife he was heading towards. As far as he was concerned, it was.

You are his home, his life, his everything. And only the thought of having you again got him through those long years. He had laid out his path, his future, your future. All that was left was collecting that which he loved most.

His hand wrapped around the handle, cold metal biting into his skin. He could feel the magic that was surrounding the house, protection charms on top of protection charms. But these charms were not meant to protect but trap.

Sebastian pulled his wand out, casting counter charms, breaking down layer after layer. It was not quick work, and truthfully not something he would have been able to do if not all that he had learned on the run. The magic he was using to break down the barriers is something others would call dark. Sebastian just calls it a different kind of magic, a necessary kind.

He finally broke through, the knob turning in his hand, the door sliding open to welcome him into the warm cottage. The smell of cinnamon toast was wafting through the air, nostalgic and inviting.

"You're back husband." Your voice was meek, docile. You came out from around the corner that led down the hall, your bare feet padding softly against the carpets you had laid out around the house.

"Sebastian." You stopped in your tracks, hands at your side, fists bunching into the fabric of your skirts. "Where is Ominis?" Sebastian's lip twitched in irritation at the question. "Gone."

"Y-you-" A gasp escaped, your hand coming up to press the tips of your fingers to your mouth in shock.

"For merlin's sake, I did not kill the man. He just happens to be ... indisposed." Sebastian waved a hand in the air. "But he'll come back to an empty home, you're coming with me."

You walked towards him, steps slow and cautious. Reaching a hand out to caress his cheek once you stood before him. Feeling him, in the flesh, your skin against his, that was your breaking point. You lauched yourself into his arms.

Violent sobs overtook you, your body shaking with the force of them as you clung to Sebastian. You held onto him as tight as you could, readjusting your grip to try and tighten it every few seconds. You crumpled in his arms, he allowed you to, sinking to the ground so you could sit in his lap. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as he cradled you.

"I'm sor-ry, I-m sorry, s-orry." You mumbled almost incoherent apologies into his shirt in between hiccups. "My sweet girl," he cooes, "you have nothing to apologize for." One arm holds you as the other hand runs through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

He holds you, whispering soothing words and sweet nothings until you calmed down. "I shouldn't have come back ... I felt so guilty for betraying Ominis ... I-I," you shook your head, trying to articulate your thoughts.

"He supported me for so long, I felt like I owed it to him to come back. My own happiness be damned but ... he ... I've been trapped in this house for months, Sebastian. All this time, all I could think of was you," you brought a protective hand up to rest on your stomach, "and our child."

"Our?"

"This life that grows inside me, it could only be yours, my love. The thing about contraceptive potions ... you can make them for one person. The ones I brewed only kept out Ominis. It worked for years, I know it didn't just suddenly stop. This is your child, Sebastian, our child."

His lips are on yours in a hearts beat, soft and needy. His tongue swipinging over your bottom lip as his hand tangles in your hair. It felt like home, it was a feeling he longed for during the countless nights alone.

You moaned into the kiss, allowing yourself to finally relax, to feel safe in the Sebastian's arms. His fingers had come up to clumsily undo the buttons of your blouse, never breaking your kiss.

You pulled away, taking over, discarding your clothes in a rush, your fingers precise where his had been ill practiced. He did the same, tossing his clothes aside without a care before pulling you back into him, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

"I am going to ruin this house the same way I ruined you." He pressed a kiss to your temple, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps down your skin. "I'm going to fuck you over every surface of this house." He pushed you up against the nearest wall, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden impact . His lips traveled down, warm kisses along your neck making a shiver run down your spine.

"I'll not leave a single room unspoiled for that insecure twat." He kissed his way down your torso, settling himself between your legs, pulling a leg over his shoulder to expose you to him, you sucked in a breathe as his breathe fanned over you.

"Fuck, you're so wet already. This is all for me, pretty girl?" His tongue swipes slow and torturous over your sopping cunt, flicking over your bundle of nerves at the end. "So fucking sweet."

He looking up at you with hungry eyes, every puff of air he breathes out hitting your clit, making you shiver above him but he make no move to continue. "Sebastian, please." Your words are breathless and a hand tangles in his hair as you attempt to push his face right where you need him.

"Beg."

"Sebastian." You throw your head back in frustration. You couldn't find the words to describe how you want him if you tried. "Stop playing games with me."

"I'm not." He leans just enough to let the tip of his nose graze the sensitive bub, "I just wanna hear you say it. Come on, just once." He presses a kiss, you sigh at the feeling.

"Please, Sebastian, I need you, please touch me."

Those words, the slight whine in your voice, sent a jolt to his already hard cock. He has one hand supporting your hip and leg over his shoulder, the other arm supporting your back and pushing you closer to him.

His mouth is pressed back against you, sucking, nipping, licking away as you grip his hair. You had always felt pleasure with Ominis, wanted him even but not like this.

Though the physicalities of it all were much the same, it was different, in your heart, in your soul. No other could make you feel the way he did, the way you felt right now.

Your legs tensed, attempting to close around his head. His arm dropped from your hip, wrapping around your thigh to pry your legs back apart, never stopping his ministrations against your throbbing clit.

Your orgasm racked your body, your head thrown back in pleasure. Sebastian stayed kneeling, peppering kisses along your inner thighs and hips. Chuckling to himself as he listened to your pants, your body trying to regulate itself again coming down from your peak.

Your legs wobbled as he stood, allowing you to plant both legs on the ground once again. He leaned in kissing you, allowing the taste of your cum to settle on your tounge.

"You're all fucking mine, now show where your bed is sweetheart." You lead him to your bedroom by his hand.

"How does your husband normally fuck you?" You hummed, crawling onto the bed before flopping onto your back, bringing your knees up just enough to give him space to join you, as Ominis normally does.

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth with a tsk. "Everytime?"

"Near enough. Would you like something different?"

Sebastian walks over to you, bringing his hand to wander over your breasts, pulling a pert nipple between fingers. Twisting and pulling at the nub, earning a soft moan from you. He lets his fingers wander, trailing over your ribs, scratching his nails lightly over your stomach.

He stoops just below your hips, giving a quick tap. "Come here." You crawl back off the mattress, slightly uncertain in your movements. You stand before Sebastian, feeling even more exposed though nothing has changed.

He examins you, letting his eyes follow his hands path as it trails. He gathers your hair in one palm, pulling it behind your shoulders and letting it fall loose.

His fingers graze your collar bone, the way he's looking at you makes you feel like a piece of art, something that exists only for him to admire. Running his fingers over every curve and crevice like he's trying to understand how you were created. You shiver under his scrutinizing gaze.

He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, softly, just enough to bring your eyes to his. "Bend over." His voice is soft but commanding, leaving no room for argument. And you don't need to be told twice.

You gather all your pillows, pulling them to your chest to prop you up a bit as you lean over the mattress. The anticipation alone making your clit throb.

Sebastian brings a rough hand up to further feel as he looks you over, the sight almost rivals looking up at you from between your legs, almost. He grips the flesh of your ass, gods how many times did he have this exact dream?

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on, do you know that?" He let his hands settle in a firm grip on your waist, leaning over you, his hard cock pressed into your bottom as he pressed kisses into your spine, whispering as he went.

"I promise I'll make you happy, I'll give you anything you want or need. I'll give you a life you deserve."

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, "You ready?" Letting his cock sink in slowly after you nodded your approval.

He groaned at the feeling of the wet warmth wrapping around him, quickly falling into a steady place. Sliding in and out of you with deep stokes, allowing the tip of his cock to bully your cervix.

You could feel the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, so close to tipping you over the edge. You buried your face the mattress, muffling your cries and tangling your fists in the blankets.

"Oh no baby, I wanna those pretty little moans." Sebastian wrapped your hair in a fist, using it to pull you up into his chest. The grip of his other traveled from your hips to your stomach, pressing down just below your naval. The grip he had in your hair moving to keep a firm grip on your throat, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

This angle allowed him to fuck you at depths you'd never felt before, depths that had you tipping, the coil snapping inside you as you spasmed around him. Throwing your head back in pure ecstasy as another orgasm over took you.

Sebastian nuzzled his face into the exposed crook of your neck, sucking and biting in a fresh pink mark. His hips slowing their pace but continuing enough to draw out your pleasure.

"You didn't finish." You were panting, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat. You continued to clench around him, your body overwhelmed but still mindlessly chasing the pleasure only he could give you.

"I didn't want to yet." You could feel him smile against you."You're not satisfied yet, you animal?" You let out a breathy laugh but Sebastian only hummed bringing his fingers down to rub harsh circles into your swollen bud.

"I'll never be done with you." He pulled out, letting you lean against him, almost pure dead weight, unable to keep yourself standing.

He leads you to the kitchen on unsteady legs, arm around your waist supporting you the entire way. "Keel for me, love."

A good obedient girl, all his, only his. He smiled down at you as you struggled to fulfill his request, looking up at him through your lashes once you succeeded. "So pretty." He muttered, in awe of the sight before him.

You wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft guiding him into your waiting mouth. Your tongue wrapping around the underside of his shaft as you bob around him, your hand stroking what you can't fit. "Good fucking girl." Sebastian practically growls the words.

One hand shooting out to tangle at the roots of your hair, he uses the leverage to push you further down. You let him, your own hands gripping the flesh of his bottom, blunt nails digging in as you gag around him. Sebastian let's out a low hiss, enjoying the slight mix pain and pleasure.

He uses his grip to hold you in place as he thrusts, the tip of his cock abusing the back of your throat. Drool is dripping down your chin and tears well in your eyes but you let him use you, the sight of him with his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and teeth biting so hard into his bottom lip you think he might make himself bleed, it's too lovely a sight for you to try and pull away.

His thrusts become erratic before burying himself so deep you gag around him as your nose presses against his pubic bone. Tears finally falling free as his warm, salty cum shoots down your throat, he holds you there until he's sure you've swallowed all of it.

When he finally pulls free with a soft pop from your mouth, your lips are puffy and swollen with a line of drool still connecting the two of you.

He pulls you to your feet, still using your hair as his personal tool. He pushes you up against the table, your hands falling to grip the hard wood and steady yourself. Sebastian doesn't wait before dipping his head to the valley between your breasts, his tongue darting out the catch the drool that had slid down your skin, his tongue following the wet path up the collum of your throat ending at your lips.

His kiss is feral, possessive, all tongue and teeth nipping at your lower lip. His hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up onto the wood. "Merlin, I need you like I need air." He speaks the words against your lips, his eyes falling shut as he presses his forehead to yours, a shuttering breath falling from his lips.

"I love you, Sebastian." You whisper back to him, using the back of a hand to rub against his cheek softly. He smiles at you, a man captived by what he never truly thought he would have, never thought he deserved. Truthfully he's not sure he does deserve this, deserve you. But he'll be damned before he lets anyone else have you.

He's using his tip to gather the slick from your still seeping hole, rubbing it over your clit, making you shudder. When he feels he's gathered enough he pushes back into you, making you gasp.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, letting your head fall against a shoulder. He splays one large hand over your lower back and uses the other to balance against the table. His hips stutter at first, still sensitive from his orgasm, but he find his pace.

You had never realized how loving sex can feel, how his pace alone could convey that. The way his fingers dig into your skin with every thrust, every pant and groan that escapes him. You knew, all of it told you, this is a man that worships you, a man that has been enamored by you since he first met you. And though he may tell you, you're his, first and foremost, he's yours.

It didn't take long for either of you to reach another orgasm, both your bodies still so sensitive. You clung to him as your third orgasm overtook you. His grip on you was brusing as his hips jutted rhythmless against you, he muttered incoherent praises into your skin and his seed shot into you.

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other as you came down from your respective highs. "My sweet boy, my Sebastian." You mumbled against him as you stroked your fingers through his hair, the words made him cling tighter to you, part of him worrying if he lets you go this time he'll never hold you again.

"Promise you won't leave me."

"Oh my darling," you coo at him, bringing him up to face you, to look you in the eyes, "you have my heart, you carried it with you all these years. I couldn't leave you if I tried for I am yours, mind, body and soul. I think our love could transcend lifetimes."

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Epilogue;

"I am not, you insatiable beast." You giggled pulling your hands out of the soapy water you had just been using to wash dishes.

"You satiate me, love." He turns you to face him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Beautiful." He mumbles, bringing a hand up to rest on the swell of your stomach. "Me or the baby?"

He hums, "Both. The most beautiful beings to every grace this gods forsaken planet."

You shake your head, "Well, you can't put another in me until this one is out. And we still have some time yet so I think you should focus on the here and now and go get ready for work."

You brush his curls out of his face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. He hums, smiling at you, "Yes, you are ever correct, wife."

"Husband." You give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Brother, it's mine!" The shrill voice of your five year old daughter echos through your house, followed by the mischievous giggle of her younger brother.

"Hey! Hey!" Sebastian calls out, rushing over to the running toddler in two quick strides, scooping the child up in his arms. The boy giggles wrapping his arms around his father. "We don't steal, my boy. Play nice now, you lot cannot be stressing your mommy while she's pregnant. It's not good for the baby."

He kneels, pressing the stolen stuffed rabbit back into his daughter's hands. She smiles quickly at him before scampering away, toy in hand. He shoos his son shortly after before turning back to you.

"What's the max?"

"I was thinking this might be the final one." You leaned against the counter, watching him with a glint in your eye.

"I was thinking at least one more." He responded.

"Aye perhaps. I could never say no to you." You walk over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"How do you think the muggles do it?" You asked.

"I don't think they do, bet they cry themselves to sleep wishing they had a silencio charm."

"Seb!" You scolded with a playful slap to his chest.

When Sebastian was young he thought himself the master of plans, thought himself brilliant even but nothing will ever top this, this success. The best plan he ever wrought, whisking you away to America. Muggles know nothing of him, nothing of you. His life is sweet, a dream come true. And he is most grateful.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #Sebastian sallow smut #Sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy angst #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x you #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt #Ominis gaunt angst #˗ˏˋ꒰ 𖹭 my work 𖹭 ꒱ˎˊ˗

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lakesparkles · 1 year ago

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Longing (chapter 2 - bjhm fanfiction)

(I don't know how to put titles on mobile, in case it looks weird)

Anyways, I finally finished editing the second chapter of my AU fanfic!

You can read it on google docs or under the cut:

Longing

Diane's routine remains exactly the same, except for the constant presence of Mr. Peanutbutter

—

(I think it would be nice to say, as a warning, that there are a lot of reflections about emotional cheating in the first half of this chapter. But everything will be alright, you’ll understand when you read it ^^’)

"I miss you" the words came out of Mr. Peanutbutter's mouth quickly, as if he would lose courage if he didn't say them in that exact second.

"You saw me, like, last night." Diane shrugged and moved the phone to her other ear, already starting to feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

"I know... Yeah." He laughed to himself, his voice losing its serious tone when he completed. " I need to go back to recording, ehrrrr... now! See you later, Diane!"

Did he really need to say her name like that every time?

"Bye, Mr Peanutbutter."

After disconnecting the call, she continued standing in the same place, trying to regain her concentration.

Texas might be even hotter than California, but even that didn't save it from certain freezing nights. At least it didn't come close to that freezing hell Chicago called winter. It was funny, right? How many places has she once called home?

That thought got her feet moving again, walking down the middle of the street. It had just gotten dark, which meant that was the time her eyes still hadn't gotten used to how bright the shop windows were. Everything got her attention. Her legs shivered in the icy wind, and soon her eyes were caught by the jeans in the store next to her, now being twice as interesting.

The cafeteria next door looked warm and comfortable, the walls painted dark browns and oranges. She was almost dragged inside, only stopping herself because she knew Guy was waiting for her at home - she imagined it well: he would be on the sofa with his feet on the table and the sketchbook in his lap. He would flash his typical smile when he saw her coming, and Diane would quickly remove her boots and coat and slip into her warm pajamas. By the time she was out of the shower, he would’ve prepared two mugs of hot chocolate. The two of them would drink in bed, and Diane would hide again among the fur on his neck, even forgetting the cold.

What was a coffee shop next to that?

She quickened her steps, excited.

When her mind returned to place, she was already facing a window again, almost hypnotized. That was certainly a nice coat... If she was going to buy it, it would be in the future. Now, home! This same thought process happened another 20 times until she reached her destination. As soon as she finished climbing the short staircase leading to her front door, she kicked her boots off her feet. She couldn't wait to stop shivering and be able to breathe without blowing a puff of smoke from her mouth.

Her house was quiet and dark, but none of it was too out of character for it. Guy always used to arrive around that time, staying in the room until he stopped being too lazy to do anything else. So Diane walked with calm steps into the room, not surprised by the sight she found:

Her husband had the sketchbook on his lap, but it nearly fell off his knee. He was far more interested in what he was typing on his cell phone, letting out a small chuckle to himself. Only then did he noticed her presence:

"Diane! Babe, it's too cold today, isn't it?"

She didn't need another word to understand the invitation:

"Very…" She mumbled, lazily crawling under the covers beside him. Changing clothes could wait a little while. The bath too. This was the moment she'd been waiting for all day, already feeling her body heat up completely as she made herself comfortable and started rubbing her cheek against Guy's shoulder.

"Do you have any theories about what the movie Mr Peanutbutter is shooting is? He doesn't want to tell me!" Guy commented, with even better humor than usual.

Oh, sure. Mr Peanutbutter.

Diane curled up a little to answer, yawning and stretching her legs out from under the covers one second, only to curl back up like a cat the next.

She couldn't get away from it, could she?

"He didn't tell me anything about it either," she shrugged, "but I think it's kind of obvious."

"It's a horror movie, isn't it!?"

"For sure! I guess it's even a sequel to some other famous franchise."

Guy took that as the confirmation he needed, perking up and getting back to typing. Out of the corner of her eye, Diane caught a few written words: "The Ring 5?"; "It 3?"; "No, I don't think it's this one"; "But it's horror."

Mr Peanutbutter responded at the exact second: "No more guesses!!!", "They'll kill me if this gets out!! :(".

She should stop being so nosy!

Her stomach lurched when she noticed that Guy was already laughing again.

"You and my ex husband having any intimacy was not in my bingo of bizarre things that would happen to me" she tried to make a joke to lighten the mood… for herself.

"Well, he's here all the time now."

Yeah, she couldn't deny it.

The presence of that yellow dog became a constant another time, and that wasn't something you could prepare for.

During the last few years, she found herself thinking about Mr Peanutbutter from time to time. Usually it happened on nights when she couldn't sleep and lost control of her thoughts. Or when everything went bad again, and her mind found confusing and desperate solutions for any kind of comfort.

She had already accepted that guilt was a feeling that would always accompany her when she was around her ex-husband.

Now the longing mixed and started several other reflections.

Since she'd moved from California, she'd learned what it was like to genuinely miss someone. A faint smile broke out when she saw a rare selfie posted by Princess Carolyn. She perked up every time Todd and Maude made a sudden visit, bringing with them another chaotic day that she was growing increasingly unaccustomed to.

With Mr. Peanutbutter... It was a little different. With him everything always was.

Every time he texted her or dropped by her house to watch another obscure movie with Guy... Diane learned something new about longing. It was like she was living her story with someone for a second time.

She would never forget the time she met the dog. She was walking alone in her apartment, completely silly, while the two chatted on MySpace. He was kind and happy and so different from anyone else she had ever met. Gradually, she began to open up more to him, who always seemed interested in listening and praising her and making her feel good in her own skin. It was an almost addictive feeling, her head feeling light as she felt a small hope inside of her.

Conversations turned to dates, and Diane finally accepted that a celebrity was really interested in someone like her. Someone, in general, was interested in her. Yeah, it was a good thing to think about. When she realized it, she had already moved in with him and lived the ten most bittersweet years of her existence, in which she was relieved that they were over, but which she didn't regret for a second.

Things weren't so different these days, which was why she was worried. Part of her -the most selfish one- almost begged for the shooting of that shitty movie to end so that she would never have to look that labrador in the eyes again. Because she didn't know how to react anymore every time Mr Peanutbutter complimented her new hairstyle or said he missed her.

It was an old feeling. So old it fooled her into thinking it was something new. And that made her nervous.

She let her head fall back onto Guy's shoulder, who was still distracted by his messages, seeming to be having the conversation of his life. What would he do if he knew what she was thinking? She thought it was time to accept a truth about herself, letting all these feelings hurt as much as they should:

It didn't matter if she was talking about Mr Peanutbutter or Guy: she had never been a very good wife...

��∆•

Things were always easier after acceptance. This was the last phase, above all.

Now she opened the door when Mr. Peanutbutter came to visit after the shooting, greeting him with a comment or a joke. He smiled every time, his eyes glued on her and the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. In the background, she could hear Guy saying how he had prepared cookies - "with no chocolate!"

On second thought, maybe she and Guy were bored before that. The adrenaline of a new city had long since worn off, and they didn't have much to worry about outside of work. Guy had been promoted to news anchor, and Diane still had ten months to release the next volume of Ivy Tran. It was almost inevitable how long she took to write, spending most of her days boringly watching TV, walking around or dozing on the couch until her husband got home.

With Mr Peanutbutter there most nights now, she at least had new information to occupy her mind:

"Everything went wrong today, not even if we had recorded a sequel to 2012 by Roland Emmerich it would have been so catastrophic!" The dog commented as he deliberately shook his shoulders, heading to sit on the sofa (feeling as much at home as he could).

Intrigued, Diane followed, going beside him and leaning her arm on the back of the sofa.

"What happened?"

"Someone forgot to blow out the candles we were using and WE LOST HALF OF THE SET!" He explained everything by gesturing with his hands. "This should take a couple of weeks to be redone, we'll even have to delete some scenes from today because of continuity."

He would spend more time there then, wouldn't he?

"Wow, that reminds me of when we recorded Philbert" Diane smiled at the memory. "It was almost impossible to have a quiet day.”

"Speaking of Philbert," Guy joined them at that moment, taking the empty spot on the sofa and offering the pot of cookies for both, "I know nowadays the plot holes are more noticeable and some parts haven't aged well... But I'm still sad that it was canceled... And it's kind of weird knowing that I'm now together with two people who worked on the production, yeah.

"You get used to it pretty soon," Diane shrugged, taking a second bite of her cookie.

"And you know what's going to be even weirder?" Mr Peanutbutter laughed as he completed. "When you watch my new movie and realize you couldn't figure out what it was."

"That's it!? No! I still have time! Did you say candles? Something with exorcism then?"

"Nope!"

Diane rolled her eyes, enjoying her seemingly new routine.

The next day, she had helped Guy make lasagna. At the kitchen table, her husband asked:

"It's not supernatural, right? Maybe a slasher movie?"

"It's kind of supernatural, yes," Mr Peanutbutter replied, still with his mouth full.

"Are you kidding? What more options are left?"

"Think a little more~"

The following week, they'd stayed up until midnight watching a few episodes of Mr Peanutbutter's House and Horsin' Around, just laughing and talking a little about the past. Diane increasingly realized how much lighter it was to talk about such matters now, quite different from when she first moved from California. Guy was starting to pick up on their inside jokes, commenting on how Blarn had been a great idea. Diane accepted the compliment, feeling nostalgic.

That same day, the three put on a random documentary, talking until dawn. Diane only woke up—and realized she had fallen asleep in the first place—at 2:00 am, finding it kind of amusing to realize that Mr. Peanutbutter and Guy were doing the same, in a competition of who was in the most uncomfortable position. Asking the dog to go back to the hotel felt wrong, so Diane just woke Guy up and the two of them silently went to their room.

The next morning, after the mess, they had breakfast together, Mr. Peanutbutter taking one of the spare toothbrushes and changing for work in their bathroom, saying goodbye in that stupidly domestic way.

Diane's more selfish side returned, and she almost hoped something would destroy the other half of the set for whatever movie he was shooting.

•∆•

Taylor Swift's The Way I Loved You was looping in her head, and for a good reason. She couldn't fall asleep, her thoughts starting to bother her again. Then she kept saying to herself, "nostalgia is a lying bitch and you DON'T miss your life with Mr Peanutbutter. The divorce was the biggest proof of love you ever made for each other."

Yes, that was the truth. Yes Yes Yes. Now she just had to accept it.

To make her point even more clear, she forced herself to remember all the bad times they ever had. All the times he didn't listen, that infuriated her and made her feel terrible about herself and for not getting to be the wife he thought she was.

She also couldn't forget how disastrous and selfish they were together, doing what they'd done to Pickles, only to get nowhere with it.

She certainly didn't miss the fights and the thousands of nights they slept without speaking after yelling at each other.

She just thought so because everything was fine now.

She sighed, shifting her position. Unlike her, Guy was in a deep, peaceful sleep, on his back and snoring softly. Carefully, she brought the back of her hand to his cheek, lightly stroking his fur.

She still loved him. Very very very much. In a way as strong and desperate as she was when she first met him. He was kind, funny, and all the company and comfort she needed in her life.

Diane was confused, and admitting anything in her own head scared her.

But she needed to state the obvious.

She was still in love with Mr Peanutbutter, wasn't she?

•∆•

Now the way was to be angry at him, she realized. It must’ve been her brain's way of not blaming herself so much and pretending that she wasn't about to destroy her whole life all over again.

However, it got so... so difficult when he still showed up on her doorstep every time, tail wagging, another colorful coat and a bottle of expensive wine in hand.

"Something tells me that Guy is going to like it there..." She commented, a light smile involuntarily appearing on her lips.

And she was right. The three of them gathered at the kitchen table again. Diane sipped from her glass, the taste taking her years back. Mr Peanutbutter always bought that same wine for them to drink.

"Tastes like wealth," was the conclusion Guy got, and she laughed because it had been the same as hers.

She missed that, didn't she!?

They watched Hereditary. Guy tried to guess Mr Peanutbutter's movie and failed. At night, when the two were in bed, her husband murmured:

"I know that's how dogs are, but he shouldn't stick his head out the car window... It's dangerous."

Diane smiled.

If she had that routine for even one more day, she would freak out.

Fortunately, that was not what fate had prepared for her.

When she got home the next night, Guy was already there, just like usual. He sat on the sofa, however, something was wrong. She could feel it. She entered the room with some caution, trying to notice what gave her such an impression. It was even easy to know. The TV was off this time, leaving the whole environment in an intimidating silence, mixed with how Guy didn't do anything, just sat there.

When she was close enough, he began to speak:

"I've been waiting for you to arrive," his tone was hard to read. It didn't have much emotion, giving her the awful impression that he must've been rehearsing it in his head while she was gone "we need to talk about something."

Her brain stopped working, going to the past. A few years in the past. "It was good while it lasted". BoJack? BoJack had told her that phrase once, hadn't he? For some reason, it was what was repeated over and over in her thoughts.

"Okay..." She murmured, almost whispering, taking her pose as a child who was about to be scolded. She didn't have much choice but to sit next to him, avoiding eye contact for as long as she could.

She thought she was hiding it well, at least. She didn't even let herself believe that, and this was the hope she was moving forward with... apparently, she wasn't even right about that.

Now her anxiety peaked, feeling her fingertips begin to tingle.

She had almost forgotten what that felt like.

What would become of her now? Would she stay in Houston? Would she go back for another round of small, impersonal apartments? Would it go back exactly where it started, half a lifetime ago?

Or would she try to convince Guy that she could ignore it... and forget about it? - something she would genuinely like to do.

"Look, Diane, I don't even know how to talk about this," Guy continued finally, and Diane struggled to make out the words. Just like her, he didn't look in her direction, "It's going to be kind of weird, okay?"

Maybe she couldn't even stay in Houston. She wouldn't know how to handle the situation. Maybe she would have to go back to being Diane and run away to whatever other town that would accept her.

"Okay," she sighed, giving up. "I think I already know what it is."

"You know!?" He looked oddly surprised, almost scared.

Wait.

"What? What... What is it?"

The silence then returned in double. The two stared at each other, their expressions blank and not daring to speak a single word.

Diane ventured:

"Guy?'

He needed yet another few seconds to continue:

"Now I don't have the courage to talk anymore..."

"Don't you dare! What happened, Guy?"

"Nothing!" It was his turn to be defensive. "That's the case, okay? Nothing really happened and I don't mean to suggest that we should break up or anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have every right to be angry, but..."

"With you winding up like that, it's really hard not to be!"

"I don't think there's an easy way to say this."

Then another pause, and now that was the last straw. Diane was so nervous that she could barely feel her hands; her body sweated and she saw white:

"G..." But she was soon interrupted.

"I think I'm in love with Mr. Peanutbutter!"

What?

"What!?"

Now it looked like a challenge to who looked the most terrified, both of them looking like wild animals that would run at any sudden movement.

Diane changed position, almost getting up from the couch:

"Did you just tell me... that YOU are in love with Mr Peanutbutter?" Disproving her theory, saying it out loud didn't make it any more real. Quite the opposite.

"I thought I told you that I was bisexual and that..." He stopped mid-sentence. Normally Guy was someone easygoing and calm, traits that fit her perfectly. Guy always had solutions to any problem, making her feel like she was on the ground every time she needed to.

Now, however, it was like he was about to pass out from embarrassment.

"That's not the problem, of course!" Diane shook her head, trying to control all the trillions of feelings and speak more calmly. "With Mr Peanutbutter, my ex-husband?"

"It's as ridiculous as it sounds," he tried to smile, giving up in the next second. "I wanted to tell you because... I don't know why, it felt right. I swear I never got close to doing anything to him.... I thought you could help me - no, not that! We could think of a solution together. Or not. I don't know."

"I'm a pretty bad person for that."

"Huh?"

"Guess who's in love with Mr Peanutbutter, too?"

It was as if a switch had been flipped, the mood in the room completely changing in an instant. The silence had disappeared and given way to the laughter that now came out.

They stayed like that for a long time, laughing. So much that Diane began to suspect the obvious and how it wasn't because they found the situation funny.

After that came, of course, silence. They stared at each other, and Diane thought the last time she felt so uncomfortable around Guy was when he made her jump out the window to hide it from his son:

"And now...?"

"We admit that we are equally terrible and forgive each other...?" Guy ventured, cocking his head to the side.

"Deal!" She would like to put that behind her, for sure. "But... What about him?"

Now Guy shrugged:

"I don't know that."

They were screwed.

Of course they were.

There wasn't even a chance that this story would end well. But that wasn't the only part that concerned Diane. She felt confused, which left her mind almost blank, not knowing what to think or how to react. Almost as if her life didn't belong to her and she was just watching an episode of TV. And, in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but notice how strangely light she felt. She had gotten so used to carrying that weight that she never even imagined what she would do after that.

Without the guilt and longing, who was she now?

•∆•

Now that she could finally accept it, she let herself enjoy the good parts of the present and the past. When they said that time away from someone was sometimes necessary, they were completely right. The Mr Peanutbutter she lived with now still had all the traits that made him him: an oddly charismatic personality; always praising everyone and trying to be positive, for better or for worse; he still looked kind of distracted, as if he didn't hear her, but he ended up proving the opposite every now and then.

However, his only change was not just the whitish hairs on his muzzle that made him even more endearing: just as she noticed when she first saw him in Houston, it was as if Mr. Peanutbutter had finally matured. He never crossed the line or tried to prove himself to her. He was calmer. Nicer.

She's never forgotten that call she'd had with him one day, years ago, in Chicago. When she suggested that their relationship would probably work with them as they were at the time, Mr Peanutbutter replied that they were only the way they were because of the relationship they once had.

How he had changed. They both had, didn't they?

She asked, every time, if she was right that day. If only they could try a second time. Would everything go back to the way it was before, when the anxiety killed her knowing that they would fight again, practically daily? Or was it closer to the beginning of their relationship, where everything had that rare emotion and she started to feel like she belonged somewhere?

When Mr. Peanutbutter was at her house or they went out with him to see the city, she had to stop herself from kissing him, without saying a word. She liked to imagine that he still felt the same way, having all the same questions but choosing to ignore them for the moment.

If only things were that easy... But at least she wasn't alone. And she could tell Guy all this now, so that he would do the same with his own doubts:

"Wasn't it weird?" He questioned, turning his head on the pillow to face her. "Dating someone so famous, I mean. How did you deal with all his fans? Weren't you jealous?"

"In the beginning, I kind of was," these were such distant memories that she wasn't sure anymore "but I was winning, wasn't I? At least he never gave me the impression that he was going to cheat on me, so I stopped worrying one day."

"Wait, wasn't there something that he cheated on his girlfriend a few years ago? That pug girl, huh?"

Diane's complete silence and Guy's increasingly worried expression indicated that he was starting to connect the dots.

"Ehrrrrr promise not to judge me too much? "Diane asked, smiling sheepishly.

"WAS IT WITH YOU!? Oh dear lord, this is why you want to change the channel when she appears, it all makes so much more sense!"

"What did you think that was the reason?"

"That he had left you for her or something."

"Nah, it was after our divorce. But very close to our divorce, which must have been one of the reasons it happened, now that I stopped to think about it..."

"Diane... I think it must be time for you to tell me the whole story, no?"

"Of my ten years of marriage?"

"As much as you want to tell."

They went to sleep only hours later. Diane didn't try to hide the bad parts, figuring Guy deserved to know what he was getting into. She never thought she could be so honest with him. Maybe she really was past the stage of fear that he would abandon her if he found out who she really was. Instead, he laughed at parts of the story, and only lightly judged her when she deserved it. There was no disgust or heartbreak in his gaze, just pure interest. Obviously she didn't come close to telling everything, not even knowing if that would be possible. But at the end of it all, she was able to return to his arms until they fell asleep. Just like every day for the last few years.

Guy was here to stay.

Diane still wasn't quite used to having company at times as confusing and complicated as this one... But it was something she could get used to.

•∆•

As it was Sunday again, they took the opportunity to go out into the city. Even though it wasn't close to snowing, Houston winters were still quite cold at night. This fact always slipped her mind, until she found herself clutching her coat. She walked closer to Guy, who soon got the message and put his arm around her shoulder to warm her up more.

He had the slight impression that Mr. Peanutbutter watched the scene for a second longer than he should have, but at that point, it could just be her imagination.

The dog walked faster again, his attention going from window to window, with the same admiration of a child:

"The buildings remain my favorite part of here!" He commented, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he turned to them.

"Aren't they going to be part of any scenery in your movie?" Guy questioned. Diane thought that if he didn't talk about it once a day, he would die. "Why haven't they closed any streets for recording yet? Since it needed to be here in Houston?"

Mr Peanutbutter hesitated a few seconds before replying:

"It doesn’t need the street itself."

"I've given up guessing which one it is, okay?"

"Ahhh Guy, come on, just think about the things you..." Then he interrupted himself, his attention being stolen by yet another shop window. Diane couldn't judge him, soon joining him to look at the clothes displayed there.

It was one of those more expensive stores that Diane suddenly had to wean herself off going to. Most of what was on the mannequins were coats and flannel shirts, all with an extra layer of fur, which could only indicate that they were warm.

"I've never seen this jacket in California, I've been wanting to buy it!" Mr Peanutbutter pointed to one in particular: jeans and a medium coppery blue. It didn't look like the clothes he normally wore, but he could easily picture him in it.

Diane had such a terrible moment when she forgot to control herself, the words just coming out of her mouth:

"I'll buy it as a gift for you!"

Guy and he stared at her at the same time, the labrador practically without reaction as he raised his eyebrows:

"You're really lovely for the offer, but I was about to buy it already."

"No!" She was insistent, knowing that now her pride was at stake. "I was wanting to give you a gift anyway," Lie "so you'll have a souvenir when you get back to Los Angeles."

It was almost imperceptible, but his smile faded a little. During that very instant, he looked…disappointed? Maybe sad. That simple demonstration made Diane's heart want to race, everything in her body telling her that she must say something, that this was her chance.

But she obviously continued in the same position, static, letting Mr Peanutbutter mumble:

"Yeah... If you insist, who am I to say no!?"

While Guy was chuckling beside her - he would certainly throw that in her face later, the two had a little personal competition on who would humiliate themselves more in front of the dog - Diane walked into the store with the two of them, only to grab the jacket from the hangers she found and pretend she didn't read the price tag that hung with it. If Guy wanted to murder her after that, it would be just as deserved. She had to thank him for being in such a good mood.

She headed to the cashier to pay, after realizing that Mr. Peanutbutter wasn't even going to try on the outfit - he and Guy had already gotten distracted and gone to another corner of the store, pointing and amused at everything. They were just looking at jeans, what was so funny?

Diane smirked as she watched the two of them, again in that stupidly domestic scene that she wanted more and more of.

Coming back to reality, she turned to the woman at the cashier - an Abert's squirrel, with her fluffy ears and all - who was glaring at her gleefully:

"Is it a gift?"

"Yes, it is," Diane smiled back, soon after choosing a package with a baseball print. She knew he would like that one.

She took out her card to pay, the squirrel cocking her head in her direction again:

"Do you know who Mr Peanutbutter is?"

"Huh?" Diane's brain apparently worked very slowly today. Or she was just very distracted, in her own thoughts. "I do!"

"It's him back there, isn't it?" She looked anxious, surreptitiously pointing to where the dog was.

Already knowing what to expect, Diane glanced around, seeing how he and Guy had already moved into another section of the store, with more colorful clothes. Picking up a purple T-shirt, Guy commented something along the lines of "I already told you that I'm bisexual?", in the most unnatural way possible, making Diane have to control herself not to laugh. Okay, now she would have a point for the conversation they would have before bed.

"Of course it's him!" Diane said to the squirrel. "He's talking to my husband."

"Serious? What? Wait, so are you... You are..."

"Diane Nguyen."

Of course, that poor saleswoman had no idea who she could be. Something she'd learned from the life of being famous enough was that you'd be almost recognizable far more often than totally.

After saying goodbye, she noticed how the squirrel followed her with her eyes while she called the two men with her hand, without having the courage to approach. It was a shame, Mr Peanutbutter enjoyed interacting with his fans.

Once outside, Diane remembered how cold it was, practically being knocked out by the wind. Imagine if she was in Chicago? She would never take it!

She then turned to Mr Peanutbutter, holding out the bag with the package:

"It doesn't have the same excitement as a surprise gift, but here it is!"

He didn't react at first, but the way he tilted his head slightly to the left, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth… Yeah, he liked it. Years ago, in the midst of her despair over her doomed marriage, she read about the 5 love languages. Classic thing that everyone knows nowadays, you know? The conclusion she reached was that Mr. Peanutbutter delivered exactly his own, which he would like to get back.

An extra gift for him would be worth it, wouldn't it?

He held the package in his hands, glancing at the package and enveloping her in a sudden strong hug. He was still so warm, just the right size for her to sink her chin into the yellow fur on his neck. So familiar. So weird.

"Thank you," he said when separating, a little shy. That was new! "I'll get revenge one day for that, huh!"

"Anytime you want!"

Finally, she gave Guy a wide smile: her underhanded way of saying she'd won this time. He nodded and lowered his head, giving her the pleasure of victory.

She felt like a teenager doing that sort of thing, in a way she hadn't genuinely experienced in decades.

It was still good.

They didn't do much more than that before they parted ways. They took Mr. Peanutbutter to his hotel, where they had another rather uncomfortable farewell, where none of the three knew how to react. Just wave? Shake hands? Hug? All options were bad.

"Sooo, see you again on Monday, which means tomorrow!?" The dog opened a big embarrassed smile as he took a few steps back, pointing to both of them with his index fingers. "Oh, I just remembered. Guy, about what you told me inside the store?"

"What...?" The other looked genuinely confused.

"Forget it! It was nothing! I'll be there tomorrow night, I miss you two already!"

And so he was gone, walking into the hotel. He had fled.

Whatever it was, Diane and Guy just stood there, not daring to move.

"Diane... Do you think that us telling him would be the worst thing that could happen?"

"I don't know anymore," she shrugged, releasing all the air she had in her lungs. "I just spent $600.00 dollars on a jacket."

(Finally my knowledge of horror movies has come in handy for something!

After a few months, I finally got the inspiration to finish this chapter! Now there's only one left)

#my writing #does it looks alright?#idk what I'm doing #diane nguyen #mr peanutbutter #guy bjhm #I'm always so nervous about sharing my fics but let's go

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hannybstudies · 5 years ago

Text

someone (not me) is procrastinating homework (definitely not me) and making calendar printables instead (...totally not me)

#ok its me #i hope i can conjure up some cute ones!!#should be working on coursework but...#its cold! and my husband has the day off! and i feel lazy!!#hannah rants #2019 #11112019

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sugarwithtea · 2 years ago

Text

7:18 pm || myg

pairing : husband!yoongi x reader

genre : fluff, established relationship

rating : pg-13, sfw

summary : you love your husband's long hair a little too much

word count : 1k

warnings : kissing, tickling and them being adorable :(

author's note : i love love love his hair!!! we all are in such a mess after his new ig post istg! i had to write this fluffy lil thing :(( i wrote this when it was 7:18 pm and the time in the fic is same!! idk how timestamp fics work? but pls it was quick as fuck! so spare me cuz it's straight up fluff with no sense by me!!

mood : still with you

m.list | taglist form

"Where are you?"

"Y/N?"

You could hear Yoongi call for you from the front door but you were too lazy to give him a reply, snuggled up in your bed with eyes drooping low.

It was a work day but due to your fatigue, your husband had forced you into taking it off and resting. Given, you did nothing the whole day, just got up to eat and excrete.

A few seconds pass by and just before you slip into dreamland, your bedroom door creaks open and soft light filters in while you can make out the silhouette of Yoongi.

The smell of his cologne hits you before you can even see his face clearly in the dim light. You inhale a wave of old spice and citrus and sigh softly. The comfort it brought you was more than your bed was able to give you throughout the day. It was loving, it was familiar, it was home.

"I am home." his croaky, tired voice rings in your ears as you hear him padding towards the bed.

"I know." you mumble with a smile and feel the mattress sink beside you.

It was raining and you could smell the faint traces of earth and water wafting from him and the window left open by you.

You peek open an eye and look at the digital clock on your desk displaying the time, 7:18 pm, the yellow light from the clock being the only source in your room now that your husband has closed the door.

He lifts up the covers and lies down beside you, shifting his tired body towards your form.

"Hey." you greet him, without any reason.

"You slept all day. Lucky." he whines and throws a hand around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

You laugh and make cooing sounds at him, rubbing his spine and snuggling further into his chest. You close your eyes again and revel in his warmth, the warmth from the bed seeming cold in front of him.

You inhale swiftly and that's when you feel the scent of his citrus shampoo get stronger, awakening your senses. Your hand moves on its accord and before you know it, it is resting at the nape of his neck, toying with the strands of his soft hair that you love more than anything else.

"Y/N."

"What? You know I love your hair." you pout at him and he quickly pecks your lips.

A wave of adoration and butterflies washes through you even when he has done it millions of times, even when you have known him for thirteen years, even when you have been with him for six years now, even when it's been three years since you married him.

You instinctively tug at his hair as he lets out a low, satisfied moan at your lips, before you start drawing lazy patterns at the skin of his nape.

"I love you."

"And I love your hair." you quip back with a smug grin as your hand travels further upwards to his scalp, parting his lush locks with your fingers to massage at his tired skin.

"Not me?"

"Mhmm, I'll think about it."

"Brat." and before you know it, his fingers sneak under your shirt and he tickles your waist.

"Oh my god Yoongi, no." you laugh and try to turn on your back but he relents you from doing so swinging his leg over yours and locking your body in place. His tickles travel across your torso and you hit at his hand continuously to stop him.

"Please nooo." you laugh with tears now lining your eyes and wiggle and squirm under his hold.

"Say you love me first." he laughs and your heart skips a beat at his gleeful voice and his gummy smile now on full display, with his hair a beautiful fluffy mess, thanks to you.

"I love youuu, now stop."

He kisses your scrunched up nose and lets you relax, laying back beside you and pulling you flush to his chest. You once again take the opportunity to play with his hair, this time attacking the strands which had stood out during the tickling session.

He purrs with his eyes closed when you softly press at his scalp and entangle your other hand through his hair.

You loved his hair a little too much, an infatuation that led you to hiding any stray scissors around your house. You know he won't ever cut his hair that way, but your heart was scared of the unknown. You had stopped him from going to the salon twice and were already dreading the day he would think of finally trimming his locks.

"Aah don't stop." he groans and your heart flies out to him again.

"Had a rough day?"

"More like tiring."

His closed eyes make you inch towards him and you bop his nose with yours. It's always the same. Being the executive producer of a label company was exciting but tiring and you knew it all too well given he had been at that position for almost the same time as your married life.

You kiss him once, he smiles a little. You kiss him twice, he smiles a little more. You kiss him thrice, his gums peek out. You kiss him for the fourth time and he is laughing heartily. You pat down at his hair and tuck the stray strands of hair away from his face.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He moves in your hold and nudges your forehead with his.

"First, I wanna eat something."

"I am right here and you're whining to eat something else." you pout at him and jut your lips out to kiss him again.

He moves away this time and starts to sit up with his eyes squinted and mouth twisted into a smug pout.

"I want real food, wifey." he mimics your high pitch pout and you lash out at him with your hands tugging him down with his hair, pulling the strands gently but strongly so he tilts his head towards you with a laugh and a little 'ow'. You laugh out loud and sit up, grazing your teeth over his adorably cute nose.

"That was rude of you, hubby."

taglist : @nuniah @jeonkookiesworld @kittykooyoongi @jjkeverlast @highly-functioning-mitochondria @gimmethatagustd @haliiimede @btsstan12 @aliimac @namjoonswhoresworld @apotatomashedbybts

feedback, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated so please let me know your thoughts :)))

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books · 4 years ago

Photo

Tumblr Exclusive: Forestborn

Do you like shapeshifters, epic quests, magic, dark forests, and obstinate princes? Well, have we got an exclusive excerpt for you!

Forestborn is an upcoming @torteen novel by debut author Elayne Audrey Becker. Becker graduated from Vassar College with a BA in classics and history. She is currently continuing her education at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland after time spent as an editor with a New York publisher. She grew up with a lake and woods as her backyard, spending long days outside and visiting national parks with her family.

Forestborn will be available at bookstores everywhere from August 31. Read the exclusive excerpt below, and thanks again to Elayne for sharing her inspiration moodboard with us!

Forestborn By Elayne Audrey Becker

One

I find her deep in the Old Forest, facedown in the dirt.

Sharp pain needles my palms where I’ve balled my fists so tight, the nails have carved half-moon marks into the skin. Snaking across the twig-strewn ground, gnarled roots press against my boots like a warning as I roll the young woman onto her back. Best to be sure.

No, she is certainly dead. Cold, stiff, and hungry like the rest; even with forest debris masking much of her shirt, the threadbare cotton dips in unmistakable rivulets across her bony frame. I swallow my disappointment and push her eyelids shut, wanting to spare her kin the sight of those empty, pointless eyes.

“Sorry,” I murmur, sitting back on my heels. “I’m guessing you didn’t deserve this.”

Around us, the trees lean inward and down with ominous uniformity, leaves and branches straining against their holds, drawn to the dead woman as if tethered by ropes. The sway, the humans call it. I ignore the prickling in my belly. They’ll straighten out soon enough when the magic leaves her body.

With a final nod, I push to my feet and wend my way back to the forest’s edge. It’s a close wood, with broad oaks in summer bloom crowding the grassy floor, their leafy canopy admitting shafts of sunlight that glitter like crystal chandeliers. All in all, too peaceful a setting for someone driven to madness to die alone. I breathe it in deep to savor the scent while I can, grateful that for whatever reason, these trees never seem drawn to the magic in my own blood. I’ve had enough of vengeful wilderness to last a lifetime.

“Well?” Seraline asks, her knuckles nearly white where they clutch the hem of her shirt.

I shake my head. “Dead.”

Her shoulders sink. Though Seraline is sturdy as iron when she’s in her aunt’s tannery, shaping leather into draft horses’ yokes, standing a determined two paces behind the tree line now, she seems shakeable as snow.

“Come on,” I say, nodding to the stony town just across the open fields. “You’re going to be late.” I don’t ask if she plans to examine the body for herself. Seraline may have insisted on coming as a show of support, but our friendship has many limits, her discomfort with the dead and dying the least of them.

After a brief hesitation, Seraline falls into step at my side, sweeping her seeing stick across the ground in broad strokes. “Poor thing.”

I nod, my jaw clenched tight.

This time of year, the late summer air hangs heavy even in the early morning, enough that the back of my neck is already slick with sweat. The barley fields remain mercifully empty as we pick our way through the dusty rows, but still I plow forward with my head down and shoulders bent, half from habit and half spurred by the hour. Seraline isn’t the only one who’s running behind.

“Will you not come with us?” she asks, her head tipping to the side as we near the town. “Aren’t you due back in Roanin, anyway?”

“I can’t,” I reply, making it sound like an apology. I’m not really sure why we still play this game when we both know it’s futile. “I have a few things to take care of first.”

“Today of all days,” she snorts.

“You know how it is.” In truth, I’d give my right arm to stay away from the capital today. But there’s no help for it.

“Her husband deserves to know,” Seraline adds after a while. “The two of them were inseparable.”

“He will know. The trail wasn’t hard to follow.”

Seraline is always trying to persuade me to talk to the deceased’s families. She believes I have a softer manner than many in uniform, and once she even called me heartless for refusing. That time hurt the most. But it isn’t my job to report any deaths I uncover to next of kin. Only to the king. And it’s not like she’s stepping up to volunteer, anyway.

Briarwend is a humble farming town that stretches all of three streets, a collection of squared off stone shops that deal in necessity rather than charm. Its weather-worn residents are the same. When I began seeking intel here four years ago, long days tending the surrounding fields made the people lazy and open over a couple of pints. Lately, they’re just hungry, poor soil and rising taxes leaving gaping holes that only tempers seem to fill.

Each night under dwindling lamplight and over stained, sticky tables, the pub dwellers deal out anger and judgment like tossing seeds across the earth. The battered forest walker I helped home last night is not the only magical person I’ve found bleeding on cobbled streets. The humans’ anger is growing fists.

Seraline’s family is fixing their horse’s harness to an old wooden cart when we reach their cottage home. Most others have long since departed.

“Where have you been?” her mother demands, tightening the leather straps. The roan mare stamps a hoof, ears flicking nervously in my presence. “We should have left hours ago!”

“Lela needed my help. And you’re not ready, anyway.” Seraline shrugs.

“Nor are you. Breakfast is gone, so you’ll just have to wait. Go get changed.” She studiously avoids my eye, as if I’m not even there.

Seraline bids me farewell with a light touch on the shoulder, which causes her little sister to quickly interlace two pairs of twisted fingers and pull them apart. The sign to ward off bad fortune.

“You shouldn’t indulge my sister,” the dreadful Arden says once she’s gone, stomping over and swiping a greasy hand across his forehead. By far the weakest sibling in this family of four. “Seraline is delicate. She can’t be tramping about the kingdom with the likes of you.”

Which is ironic, really, since he was eager enough to sidle close last year, when he thought empty flattery might earn him a kiss. That was before a too-often empty belly soured his tongue, before he learned who and what I was. And though I truly could not care less what this boy thinks, I’m dismayed to find my stomach still burns with anger and something close to shame. My gaze drops to his pant leg, which bears splotches of dried blood from the night before.

“Problem?” Arden sneers, white skin burned red from long days in the sun.

A slow tingling feeling bubbles up from my core, threads of numbness that tiptoe across my arms and legs. I force myself to breathe deeply, to beat the threads back. “I know it was you,” I mutter.

He traces his chapped lips with two fingers, beady eyes darting to his mother before he leans forward, his smile stiffening. “You know nothing,” he hisses.

“You forget I have certain resources at my disposal.” I raise a hand in front of his flaking face, where my nails have sharpened into claws. “And that I know where you live.”

I stare until a satisfying trace of fear tinges Arden’s expression before stomping away toward the town’s single inn, which is little more than a guesthouse with four creaking rooms. If Helos were here, he would tell me to not take the bait, that I’m better than that. What he never seems to understand is that I’m not better than anything at all.

#forestborn #tumblr exclusive #books #booklr

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kreativewritin444 · 3 years ago

Text

teacher 3/ t.s

warnings: cussing, mentions of child death, mention abuse, alc/pills

the past week has consisted of starting your new routine with the shelby’s. charles was the sweetest making the whole job a lot better, unlike his father who spoke a mere couple of words to you.

he picked you up on time, and dropped you off. other than that nothing else, so things were weird.

today was saturday allowing some time to relax. you had a glass of whiskey in hand, a smoke in the other. your comfort book in your lap, the familiar feeling start to spread through you.

setting your book to the side, you place the glass next to the bottle of pills on your nightstand. the doctor gave them to use when this anxiety (he says its called) happens: it helps relax you. sighing you glance at the time, only 2 pm.

the store was on the plan today, but you felt extremely lazy today. against your pleading brain your feet move to get dress.

locking up you make way towards the city. the weather wasn’t too bad today, people were out and about today. your eyes cross over the garrison, leading you to head in. it wasn’t dark at all, and you could use a drink before the errands.

the door swung open with ease, happy to not hear much noise. what you didn’t expect was to be faced with thomas shelby. who was about to enter the private room before his eyes laid on you.

“miss.y/l/n.” he announces, eyes never leaving yours. swallowing thickly nodding towards him.

“good day mister shelby.” the small lip smile appears across your features, making way to move past him. his hand wraps around your bicep. the touch puts a halt in your actions.

“come, have a drink.“ he swings the door open, letting go of you. without a word you walk in, seeing that it was kind of like a office.

“do you own this place too?” the question was serious, as you sit down in a chair. eyes roaming the place, it was pretty for him to design.

“i do.” he answers setting the glasses and bottle on the desk, leaning against it instead of sitting. you stare up at him, as he pulls out a smoke. he offers one to you, which you gladly take.

he pulls out a light, the routine in motion. you inhale the smoke, watching him do the same. he turns slightly allowing himself to pour out two glasses.

he hands the glass over, slipping in your grasp. you thank him softly. “how was this week?”

“it was fine.” you answer shortly, growing tired of the in between ways of the man before you. he nods, eyes observing you like some prey.

“i want you to move in.” he states making you choke on the liquid you were drinking. the coughing fit lasting a few minutes.

“move in? are you out of your mind?”

this was absurd, saying yes to a job was one thing... moving in?

“its easier commute, ill supply whatever you need. you arent under any rules, just would be easier on charles.” he states as if it wasnt a big deal at all.

the glare was uneasy to hide, “easier on charles or easier for you to keep a eye on me? i already quit a job to take yours, now i must leave the one place i’ve gotten in my name!”

he lifts off the desk staring down at you, but you quickly rose out of your seat. failed attempt of matching his energy, since he was much taller than you.

“why did you run away from your husband?”

“how did your wife die?”

the comeback was stupid, yet you failed to keep it down. your eyes soften, darting away from his cold gaze.

“she was shot.”

a small gasp leaves your lips, eyes finding him once more. you didn’t mean to pry, but he started it. yet now you felt like you could tell him your past.

“i was pregnant...and he uh- he beat me.” your eyes watered, the thoughts resurfacing. “i uh...i lost the baby.”

a silent tear slides down your cheek, hands roughly rubbing it away. thomas held an indifferent look, something you can’t pinpoint.

“if he ever tries some’ again, i’ll take care of it.” was the only thing that came out his lips, he swipes the glass up in his hand. he reaches down and places it in your palm.

you smile softly, gulping the rest down before setting it on the desk. knowing he is still out there doesn’t take the fear away, even with thomas at your aid.

“you can’t promise that, thomas.” you whisper back finally, turning back to grasp your bag. the material bunched in your hand, you give the man one last look.

you didn’t say goodbye, nor shopping. just home to drink the pain away.

the next day you awoke, hungover with the worst headache. the night consisted of drinking your sorrows away and sobbing to yourself.

telling thomas your secret made you never want to face him, yet his proposal did ponder your mind. you didn’t know why your mind always wandered about him, he has been the biggest pain in your ass.

the way he acted though is what intrigues you, his way of holding so much power without boasting about it. a gangster was the whispers on the streets, yet you didn’t know exactly what he did.

so what did the gangster want with you?

you made way down the road, the food market up ahead. today’s weather was cloudy, hinting a storm to come. funny how the weather tended with your emotions.

grabbing a small basket, throwing in the items of choice. you pay and head out, debating whether to try and find thomas. not paying any attention as you round the corner, you bump straight into someone.

stumbling back slighty, an apple slips out onto the pavement. the man reaches down grabbing the fallen fruit, “my apologies, mrs.landers.”

the name alone almost made your knees give out, but his smiling face in front of you sent you into panic.

“what are you doing here?”

everything was bringing you back, like deja vu. the crowds around you seems to fade out, the attention only on the man before you. stepping back with your hand out.

“stop.” you try to sound confident, but your voice wasn’t steady. he steps forward making you back up again.

“i told you i wouldn’t stop looking, wife.”

your stomach churns and without a second thought. you run, not even worried about how you look. weaving in between people, desperate to get away. no clue on where to go, you look around seeing the familiar place not too far ahead. the garrison.

glancing back seeing he wasn’t following anymore, you slow down the air finally entering your lungs. you were a mess but still paranoid, hes here now. slowly you enter the pub, looking at everyone.

luckily no ones attention was on you, the man nods as you approach. “whiskey please.”

he turns and grabs the bottle, before sliding over the glass. you pay and take a gulp of the drink, having no idea of what is to be. your eyes flicker to the closed door of the private room.

no debate your feet bring you to the door, silently praying he was inside. you turn the door nob, relief spreading through you at the site of him.

his eyes glance up and furrow at the site of your slight frizzy hair and red cheeks. “y/n?”

you dont bother sitting, staying close beside the door. “i’ll move in.” the words leave your mouth as he sets the newspaper aside.

“i’ll have someone get your things as ya’ work tomorrow.” the words leaving his mouth brought you relief, him not questioning you. also not having to be alone, safer with him. then at the house he probably already found.

he knows where you live.

“can i come tonight?” you didn’t mean for that to come out. everything felt unreal and eerie, goosebumps rose along your skin.

“why the sudden change of thought?” his eyes never leave you, knowing he was dissecting you in his mind. your behavior was strange and out of place, he knew it too.

“i just thought about it, why are you regretting asking?”

he leans back exhaling the smoke of his cig, “do i need too?” probably. he stood up stubbing the smoke out, glancing towards you.

“ready to go?”

you nod opening the door, praying you don’t see him on the street. following behind as he reaches the vehicle, allowing you to enter before he gets in. silence fills the ride, only your bouncing knee details the emotions.

you were stressed and scared.

the ride to the shelby residency was calmer, the medicine finally started to kick in. you glance over to the man, observing him the way he does you.

you were moving into his home; one he lived in with his wife. you weren’t sure how to feel about everything, but with the current situation. it helps your here and not home.

we pull up to the home, parking in front of the familiar door. thomas lets you out, grabbing your bag as he walks forward. you trail behind remembering where to go.

maid frances walks in as thomas closes the door, “frances show y/n where her room is.”

you glance back at him confused, “where are you going?”

he glances over his shoulder, “i have some business to attend too, let frances know if you need anything.” and with that you were left alone with her.

she was a nice lady, dealing with her when you worked. everything now was different, you hadn’t been anywhere but the downstairs area. following her up the steps, she looks back at you with a smile.

“clean sheets are on the bed, i made it up when i heard ya’ be movin’ in.” the room was spacious and pretty, you smile towards the lady.

“thank ya’ frances.” you set your bag onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks.

“would ya’ like anything to drink, dear?” you turn to face the lady.

you nod softly, “may i have some tea, please?” she nods, heading off leaving you alone. bottom lip between your teeth, the door shuts close. slipping off your clothes and sliding on your night gown.

you put the rest of your clothes into the drawer, setting the bag beside the stand. the comforter was soft under your fingers, the bed more comfortable then the one at home.

a knock sounds the room, “come in.”

thomas appears a cup of tea in hand, your eyes widen in shock. glancing down at your night outfit, not expecting a chat from him.

“we need to talk.” he states making your heart race a little. setting the cup beside you, he sits on the bed.

not knowing what else to do, you sit beside him. “talk about what?” he was facing the door, as if he’ll leave in any second. you sat knees close to your chest, staring at him.

“what had you upset earlier?” the fact that he figured out something, made your stomach drop.

“i dont know what you mean?” playing dumb always works.

“something upset ya’ so bad, you’re here tonight.” his eyes now stare you down, as he shuffles to pull out his smoke.

he did have a point, and you don’t know why you are afraid to tell him. maybe because you sound pathetic and weak.

ignoring his statement, you steal a smoke from him. you hold it against the candle flame, bringing it to your lips inhaling. he still was looking at your for a answer but you didnt know what to say.

“nothin’ i can’t handle myself.” the words were light against your lips, as if you didn’t really believe them.

“since ya’ live here now, i dont need lies.” the smoke leaves his mouth with each word. you inhale the smoke as you grab the tea glass. taking a sip, you internally curse yourself.

“the husband i ran from...” the sentence trails but thomas seem to catch on. he sighs before standing up.

“i dont know how he found me! i swear if i could just kill him, i would.” you don’t know why you were explaining yourself but thomas walks forward. your teary eyes look up to his, and for a moment you thought his eyes flicker towards your lips.

“what’s his name?”

“jack.” the name was a whisper, and it haunted you. a sob escapes your lips, hand covering your mouth.

“i-im sorry.” thomas hands found your face, pulling you to look up at him. a sniffle leaves you, “i dont ne-need to be saved.”

that was a lie, you were drowning and he saw it. he saw a piece of himself in you, and it scared him.

“ya’ will be just fine, alrigh’?” you try to lean back but his grip became a little more forceful. “alright? nothin’ will happen to ya’.” he reassures, determine to make you understand.

you nod softly, not up to speak. he lets go of you, standing back a few steps. without another word he turns and opens the door.

“goodnight y/n.” he calls over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.

getting that off your chest was a relief, but the ache didn’t fade. only to be topped with a feeling within you, one you felt about the man that was just before you.

a single tear rolls down your cheek, as you throw the now unlit cig in the ashtray. your head hits the pillow, but no rest comes to you... only the memories.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders smut

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valdomarx · 4 years ago

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“Geralt. My dearest friend. My closest companion. Light of my life, fire of my-”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Jaskier?”

“Seeing as how I’ve made you famous, and I flatter myself that this has eased you path somewhat, why, this very inn not only took us in but even offered us a discounted rate-”

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Testier this time.

“Ahh. Well. Let me put it plainly: I’m in need of a favour.”

Geralt raises one eyebrow, in an expression he knows speaks volumes.

“I need you to come with me to Lettenhove this winter and pose as my fiancé.”

Geralt nearly drops the sword he’s sharpening. A million thoughts whip through his mind, but one is most pressing: “Why, for Melitele’s sake?”

Jaskier waves a hand in a vague and non-descriptive gesture. “It’s a court thing, you know how families are, and my mother has made it abundantly clear that it’s time for me to settle down and this year I’m to return affianced or else she’ll select someone for me. And I can’t get hitched to some local lady, Geralt, I simply can’t, it’ll ruin my bardic appeal, not to mention my employment prospects, and of course I won’t be able to travel with you, and it’s-”

Geralt holds up a hand to ward off the wall of words. The idea of no longer travelling with Jaskier is unconscionable, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. And they spend so much time together they’re practically married anyway. How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?

“Fine,” he says gruffly.

“Oh, Geralt, you are wonderful.” Jaskier beams and throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt growls, but secretly, it’s actually rather nice.

“Mother, this is Geralt, my fiancé.”

Cold, clear eyes look him up and down, assessing him, and pinch into an expression suggesting he has been found wanting. Geralt decides against opening his mouth and further cementing that opinion.

“A witcher.” Her voice has the familiar twang of Jaskier’s, but with the flat, expressionless cadence he associates with the higher echelons of the aristocracy.

“A witcher!” Jaskier confirms in a cheery tone. “Isn’t that exciting?”

She sniffs in a manner which makes it clear that exciting would not be her first choice of word. “I see. He will be joining us for this year’s Yuletide?”

“He will.”

Her face draws back into the impassive mask of the well-bred. “Very well. You will stay in the east wing.”

“Thank you, mother.” Jaskier executes a stiff bow which Geralt copies and they beat a hasty retreat.

“That went rather well!”

Geralt blinks. “Jaskier, I’m fairly sure your mother means to have me killed in my sleep.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She’s always like that. She’s actually softened up a lot since dear old dad died, gods rest the grumpy bastard.”

Geralt struggles to imagine how such staid, cold people could possibly have produced a son as bright and warm as Jaskier. They might as well be a different species.

Jaskier pushes open a door to a grand suite, all plush velvets and gold ornamentation, a thick woven rug underfoot. It’s the most opulent room Geralt has ever seen, but Jaskier pays it no mind and throws his bag casually on the bed.

“We’ll have to stay here together,” he says apologetically, not looking Geralt in the eye. “But the bed is plenty big, or I can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather -”

Geralt is still taking it all in: The space, the furnishings, the frankly enormous bed which looks divinely comfortable. And there, through the next room, that looks like-

“Is that a copper bathtub?” he asks, eyes wide. Such luxuries were a rarity indeed.

Jaskier grinned. “It is. Let me get some food sent up and I’ll wash your hair?”

Geralt grumbles, just for the effect, and decides that putting up with tedious aristocracy might have its benefits after all.

Yule festivities in Lettenhove are, mercifully, a mere matter of days. First there is the fitting for formal attire, which Geralt scowls through but Jaskier promises will be made up for with plenty of good food and wine. Then there are several deeply tedious aristocratic parties, which Jaskier sails through and Geralt spends mostly hiding in dark corners, as is his wont.

Occasionally, Jaskier will grab him by the hand and introduce him as, “Geralt, my husband-to-be,” and something funny will flip over in his stomach which will require several drinks to settle. When he returns to his dark corner he’ll find his heart pumping a little faster as his eyes track Jaskier flitting around the room. It’s probably just indigestion from all the rich food.

Then there is the formal family Yuletide dinner, a spectacularly awkward and singly unpleasant evening spent around a long, cold table with Jaskier’s mother and various cousins, who regard Geralt with expressions ranging from bland disinterest to active hostility. The food is heavy beyond measure and the conversation cruel and bland by turns.

They cover the need for raising taxes, the many failings of the servant class, and the petty squabbles over jewels and titles that seems to be the bread and butter of these people. With each hateful line, Geralt feels his blood rising. If it weren’t for Jaskier making pleading eyes at him, he’d take great pleasure in explaining some hard truths to them.

When a cousin begins expounding on useless lazy peasants in the estate, complaining that they can’t work because of plague, but we all know they’re simply idle, Geralt grits his teeth so hard that he swears the sound must be audible.

Beneath the table, Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Staring down at their joined hands, Geralt detaches from these awful people and their awful conversation and focuses on the simple warmth of Jaskier’s fingers intertwined with his own.

They make their escape from dinner as soon as can be considered polite, and Geralt takes a second to lean against the door to their room, breathing deeply.

“You did well not to throttle anyone,” Jaskier says with a reassuring smile. “If we’d had to listen to cousin Edrick for a minute longer, I might have launched over the table with a carving knife myself.”

Geralt reaches for him without thinking, and once again Jaskier’s hand slips into his own. It’s grounding, to feel something genuine in this place surrounded by artifice.

“Come on,” Jaskier says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Geralt doesn’t even ask where they’re going before nodding.

They sneak away from the estate out of the servants’ door and follow a winding path toward a cluster of lights in the valley below. The path into Lettenhove town is quiet and calm, and as they walk the snow begins to fall in soft flurries, covering the ground in a peaceful white blanket.

The town looks picture perfect when they arrive, a charming jumble of thatched cottages and a small, cosy inn from which bright light spills out into the snowy night. When they enter the barmaid runs over to hug Jaskier and the proprietor slaps him on the back, and Jaskier has a kind word and a waved greeting for every person in there.

Geralt feels something unwind in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was tight and twisted until now. Seeing Jaskier in his element, among people who love him for who he is, instead of among that cold, hateful family, he feels right in a way he hasn’t for days.

Jaskier is already buying drinks and passing them around, and he excitedly waves Geralt over. “Bree, Geoffrey,” he addresses the couple behind the bar, “This is Geralt.” A shy smile sneaks over his face. “My fiancé.” The couple gasp in delight and congratulate Jaskier, then they’re embracing Geralt like old friends and pushing a drink into his hands.

“Come on, Geralt, join us!” Bree smiles warmly. “It’ll be the ten o’clock bells soon, and we must have Jaskier lead us in a song.”

The evening is a whirl of music and dance and loud, terrible singing, which the entire town seems to join in. For once there is no corner for Geralt to hide in, so he stays by Jaskier’s side, basking in the reflected glow of these people’s clear adoration of his bard.

When the midnight bell chimes and Geoffrey turns them all out for the night, the revelers wend their way home still singing and drinking. As the place empties out, Jaskier slides over to Bree to press a kiss to her cheek and a bulging purse into her hand. She tries to wave him off but Jaskier tucks the money behind the counter all the same, and Geralt watches, a deep wave of fondness sweeping through him.

The snow is still falling when they step out into the now-quiet street, soft, fat flakes drifting lazily from the sky and sticking in Jaskier’s hair. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair falls in an messy sweep over his eyes; without thinking Geralt reaches out to brush it away behind his ear. Jaskier’s blush deepens as he does so, but he shivers in the cold.

“Here.” Geralt unclasps the thick cloak from around his neck and sweeps it over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s mouth forms a little o of surprise and he looks up at Geralt, something tender in his eyes.

Geralt’s gaze is caught by the snow flakes settling on Jaskier’s lashes; he’s so focused that he almost jumps when Jaskier reaches out to take his hand. The sky seems to glow with a soft orange light as the clouds reflect the last few fires in the town below; everything is warm with Jaskier’s hand in his despite the chill in the air.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says softly. “For being here with me.” And leaning in, his breath caressing over Geralt’s face, he touches his lips to Geralt’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss.

Suddenly it occurs to Geralt that this will be it, tomorrow they’ll head back on the path like none of this ever happened, no more holding hands or being close, no more being introduced as Jaskier’s betrothed. And despite the hellish parts of this experience he really doesn’t want it to end. He likes being Jaskier’s person, and he likes Jaskier being his.

They are still standing close together, mere inches between them, and it’s no effort at all to lean in, slowly, cautiously, to find Jaskier’s lips with his own, to place a tentative kiss there. And then Jaskier’s hands are fisting in his shirt and tugging him closer still, and his arms go around his waist and Jaskier is kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it, their mouths slotting together like they were made to fit each other, and everything is blazingly bright like the white of the snow.

When they pull apart they stay with foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, and Geralt can see a smile cracking wide over Jaskier’s face.

“I like being engaged to you,” Geralt says quietly, unable to keep it in.

Jaskier’s smile widens even further. “I like being engaged to you too,” he says. He kisses him again. “Fiancé.” Another kiss. “Husband to be.” And another. “Partner.” One more. “Beloved.”

“I like the sound of those.” He suspects he may be wearing the same dopey grin as Jaskier is.

“Then let’s make it official.” Jaskier bites his lip. “Marry me?”

Jaskier is a picture of perfection, eyes gleaming and cheeks ruddy, snowflakes in his hair. Geralt’s heart has always been right here.

“I’d be honoured.” He considers for a second. “But not in Lettenhove.”

Jaskier’s laugh sparkles with joy. “Anywhere but here.”

#PLEASE ENJOY THIS HOLIDAY ROMCOM NONSENSE #i am feeling festive and also sappy #geraskier #the witcher #my writing

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tendouluvr · 4 years ago

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hq!! boys and the walkie talkie feature on the apple watch

- characters: tsukishima, bokuto, atsumu, kageyama

- warnings: some cursing, tsukki calls you a weirdo but in a loving way, atsumu says “peepee”

- wc: 293, 238, 257, 239

a/n: i saw a tiktok earlier where a wife and her husband connected with each other on their apple watches to use the walkie talkie feature and it lets you say anything to the other person any time without any warning so she turned it on and said ‘penis’ after he got to work and it made me giggle

TSUKISHIMA

#! either you were the one to convince him to connect, or he wanted to so that he could watch over you

#! despite being nonchalant and acting uninterested most of the time, he cares a lot

#! if you were the one to convince him, he would act like he didn’t care and pretend like it was stupid

#! but he replies to everything you say. his replies range from a quick and simple, “ok.” to calling you one of his endearing petnames, “weirdo.” and occasionally he would reply normally with answers to your questions

#! if he was the one to suggest the idea, he would use it as another way of his that shows you he cares

#! uses it to remind you to drink water, to eat, to take a break if needed, to shower at a timely manner, to not sleep at 2am (i type as it’s 1:15am)

#! he would never outright ask you how you’re doing though. it feels weird for whatever reason, so he sticks to just giving you daily reminders and he hopes you can see his efforts

#! “yn?” it was currently 1am and you hear him softly calling your name

#! “hmm?” you hummed, letting him know you were still awake

#! “why’re you up?” he immediately asked, but before you could answer he spoke up again, “whatever, i made you a playlist.”

#! it was silent for a bit, he genuinely thought you fell asleep while he was talking

#! “keiii why must you be like this? i hate you, go to sleep.” you finally spoke up, voice a quiet whine

#! you hear him snicker and then it just ended, indicating that he released his finger off of the watch

BOKUTO

#! cutie.

#! wanted you to connect with him so he could give you compliments all the time and remind you that he loves you every few minutes

#! but that quickly just turns into him treating it as if you guys were spies

#! whenever he raises his watch up to his lips, he always whispers (well, as quietly as he can) so he could pretend like you guys were those cool secret agents sneaking into official government buildings

#! “i’m in! where are you?” he loudly whispers, a tiny bubble of spit dropping onto the tiny screen

#! BOKUTO SPITS. this man is loud and his volume control is so bad. he doesn’t mean to spit, he promise, but he can’t stop it 😫😫 he talks too hard 😭

#! “bo,,, i’m at base. you’re at practice, please go before you get yelled at,” you whisper back

#! despite finding the play pretend a bit silly, you still go with it to make him happy. plus it’s lowkey fun

#! “ok babe! i love you! stay safe! i’ll be back in no time! i love you!” he ends with a loud wet smooch into the speaker

#! you laugh at that and tell him your ‘i love you’s before finding something to occupy yourself with

#! bokuto likes to end all of his talks with you with at least two ‘i love you’s just to emphasize his point

ATSUMU

#! begged you to connect with him

#! doing the whole flopping around, body draping over you, whining voice shtick

#! “baaaabbbyyy, please connect with me. ya gon’ make me cry.”

#! “then cry.” he did

#! you eventually agreed though, he was practically leaping off the walls

#! as soon as you guys were connected, atsumu took advantage of it and spoke to you every second of the day

#! and i mean every. second.

#! “hey! what’re ya doin’?” his whispered voice is heard through your watch

#! “‘tsumu what the fuck, you’re laying on my lap.” you looked down at him, who currently has the goofiest smile on his face with half-lidded eyes boring into you

#! he would be the one to say unsuspecting dirty words to surprise you

#! it’s been days since you guys connected your walkie talkies, the memory starting to make its way to the back of your brain

#! until a loud, “peepee!” was screamed from the device on your wrist

#! if atsumu could see you right now, there would be physical “?!” animations popping out of your head

#! “h-hello?” you whispered, pretending to not know who was on the other side of the screen

#! “babe? it’s me. yer ‘tsumu. did ya forget? hello?!”

#! “shaddup.”

#! he purposefully keeps his finger on the button while letting out a loud gasp to let you clearly hear it

#! basically,, turning on walkie talkie with atsumu will make you immediately regret ever getting together with him

KAGEYAMA

#! was absolutely petrified when he suddenly heard your voice coming from his watch

#! he was on his morning run, earbuds in, head in the zone

#! last thing he expected to hear this early in the morning was you through his watch saying, “hey sexy.”

#! your lazy smirk oozing through your words and he could see it in his head

#! “yn. do not scare me like that. why are you up so early anyway?”

#! him on the outside: 😐🤨

#! him on the inside: 😟😖

#! is him being jumpy ish canon? idk but i see him as a somewhat jumpy person, mainly cuz he’s kinda clueless sometimes idk

#! you giggle to yourself hearing him reply stoically before pressing down on the button to say something back, “morning, i’m going back to bed i just wanted to scare you.” he could hear you snicker before the watch went silent

#! rolling his eyes, he quickly glances around him to make sure no one was near before raising the watch up to his lips and whispering, “boo!”

#! “did that scare you?” he snickers, oddly proud of himself

#! “tobio.....go back to running.”

#! “fine. mean.” he pouts

#! you ended up staying awake a bit longer than intended and every few minutes would cheer corny words of encouragement while he was running lmao

#! his cheeks were flushed but he blamed it on the cold

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Note

Hello idk if the requests are still going but if not then its okay ignore this and if they are please don't over work yourself and you don't need to do my request if you don't want to just stay healthy and eat well and drink lots of water we all live your work (and are simps for corpse-)

The ask : could I ask for a corpse husband x reader where they used to get shipped together before they even meet each other and when they meet each other corpse goes soft for reader and they play two rounds In among us together where they are imposters together and corpse is an imposter alone in the other round

Reader info : reader has a very soft voice and is a softie and the pronounce is she/her or they/them ( as you wish)

Again you don't gotta do it if you don't want to

Thanks so much for the ask, An. I was feeling like shit and this was a lot of fun to write. I’m sorry though, I completely read over the part where the reader was supposed to have a soft voice. I’ll see if I can make another one with this specification sometime. Also, I wrote this rather quickly because I’m watching Twilight for the first time and now my feelings are hurt.

#CorpseBride - Oneshot

Pairings: Corpse / Reader

Twitter wasn’t really your forte, but you knew how to get around. It’s just that you never really had the time to check it, let alone to see what’s on the trending page every single day. At the very least, you were capable of replying to your friends’ stuff and letting your viewers know when you were streaming or when a new video would be up. Again, you weren’t a pro, but you got by.

Until you didn’t.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, and immediately went to change your Among Us figure to its usual colour and outfit before someone else took it.

Everyone welcomed you, while it seemed Toast was still busy trying to get a last person to join.

“Whaddup, baby,” Corpse’s shot out from the rest of them. It was pure teasing, something he’d grown quite comfortable with ever since people had blatantly started simping for his voice. “Nothing much, honey. How’ve you been?” You cheekily replied. “Pretty good. Streaming still makes me nervous, though.” “You greeted me with ‘Whaddup, baby’ and then proceed to tell me you’re nervous? Don’t get upset when I say that I don’t believe you.” He chuckled at that.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

“Ha!” you called out, “I doubt this will soothe your nerves, Corpse. You’re teamed up with me now.” You sneaked in a glance at chat. “We are not an old married couple! If anything, he can be my bitch for this round. I’m just not gonna murder anyone.”

And that’s basically how it went. He managed to kill three people and still wasn’t being sussed. “Alright, I think I’ve tortured him enough,” you laughed, “I’ll even spare Sykkuno for the man.”

You managed to corner Toast and killed him in a corner where the water wheels were, before heading out into admin. You vented until you found Corpse in Labs and jumped out. It was right when Sykkuno walked in.

“Oh, god no. Please, Sykkuno.”

Your kill count still wasn’t down yet and he was obviously planning to run straight out the door to hit the emergency button, but he was stopped. Corpse had murdered him in an instant.

Your mouth was hanging open. “Did… Did he just kill Sykkuno for me?” Chat was going absolutely wild. “What the fuck just happened?” You decided to report the body anyway.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Corpse growled, “Not my best friend, Sykkuno.”

You had to mute yourself to keep the laughter at bay. Corpse evidently vouched for you, saying you’d walked in on the body together. Felix was sussed and voted out.

“Corpse, you killed me!” Sykkuno cried out.

“I’m so sorry, Sykkuno! I wanted to spare you but you walked in at the wrong time!” You pleaded.

“Sacrifices had to be made,” Corpse merely responded.

“Wait, what happened?” Sean asked.

“I walked in on one of them venting and then Corpse killed me!”

“Collateral damage. You watched me get killed one time, too.”

“Blame me, Sykkuno. It was my fault,” but you were laughing as you said it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such regret coming from an imposter,” Sean laughed along, “Also, why the fuck were you two being so slow? Three meetings in and you’d only killed three people.”

“Corpse was simping for me,” you replied.

“I was not.”

“Yes, you were. Otherwise you would’ve asked me what the hell I’d been doing that entire time.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed.

“Corpse is an UWU-boy!”

“Oh my god, you guys are already trending.”

“Wait, what?”

Your phone was being blasted off to space, getting tons of messages with the hashtag #CorpseBride. It was number 1 trending on Twitter.

“So… whaddup, baby?”

“Oh no, you better buy me a drink first.”

“Sure.”

You hadn’t thought he’d been serious in that moment, until he’d asked you to meet up after the game had ended. You hesitantly agreed, but reminded him that he absolutely did not have to participate in this just for the meme. “I’m not doing this for the meme,” he’d said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, I just never knew how. It seemed like the perfect timing.”

You met him at his apartment, knowing how he was about going out in public, and feeling extremely nervous. You’d brought takeout, and because you hadn’t been sure what he wanted you’d ordered way too much. Upon opening the door, he looked at you, down at the bag, and said, “Shit, you got food?” Not really knowing what else to say, you simply replied, “Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have lots of leftovers, then.”

He smiled, gave you a hug that ended way too fast and left you paralyzed for a minute, and then invited you in. It turned out he’d already ordered food, too. “Plenty to choose from,” he laughed awkwardly. “Uh… You got any neighbours who might want some?” you asked.

“I-I don’t really talk to anyone outside of my friend group.”

“Oh, of course. I could go around, if you’d like.”

“You’d do that for me?”

You furrowed your brows. “Of course I would. Why not?”

“Alright, but let me at least come with you. You just do the talking.”

Three knocks at three different doors later, and someone accepted the offer and took over some of the food. “Hang on a minute,” the elderly man said, clad in only his pyjamas and a bathrobe, managing to make the situation even more uncomfortable, “Aren’t you my neighbour? You always scurry off before I get the chance to talk to you!”

You looked at Corpse, and he back at you, and you turned back to the elderly man. “He, uh… He’s very people shy. He has anxiety. I’m trying to help him cope. Also, his vocal chords are damaged.” Nothing you’d said so far had been a lie, technically, but the man still remained sceptical. “Then why didn’t you just leave a note or something?”

“Uh…” you jumped at the small voice appearing from behind you. It’s just that his ‘small voice’ is still nothing close to small. “I know, I’m terribly sorry, sir. I also just wanted to let you know that if you ever need anything, I’m just a few doors away.”

This seemed to please the man enough.

“I can’t believe you made me do that.”

“I made you?!” You gasped, “I didn’t make you do anything, you filthy liar! You’re just as bad in real life as in Among Us, when you’re the impostor and I’m the innocent crewmate.”

“No comment.”

“I didn’t even ask you a question.”

“No comment.”

“Deadass?”

“Deadass.”

You both laughed. Corpse hesitated for just a moment, but decided to ask anyway, “Were you nervous when I opened the door?”

You chuckled awkwardly, admitting, “Yeah, I was. I always get anxious meeting people. Well, we’d met before, of course. But just, you know, in real life.”

“I get it.”

You stood there in silence for a moment, until you noticed the rest of the takeout in your hands was getting cold. “Come on, wife,” he joked, linking his pinkie finger with yours, “Let me get you that drink.”

If he hadn’t dragged you along then and there, you could’ve sworn your knees would’ve given out.

TAG LIST CLOSED

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People I wasn’t able to tag (please check your settings lovelies):

@holosexualunicorn7000 @theroyalsaikou @timotheessoleil @devilish-ducky @000-22-000 @matcha-chaii @corbins-kinda-smart @milybones @theinbookss @mintchip17 @arghm8ty @alyss01 @ry-winter @sbfandom @anacrcarvalho @petitebitvh @corbins-kinda-smart @marmeladebreadwithhoney @solielfhuz6942 @xsarcasm101x @siriuslystupid @bakugonua @n0t-a-simp @emmapotato88 @notmewrongb1tch @c00ln3rdz @rolls-and-rolex

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye #among us #youtube fanfiction

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

shelter me from winter’s bite

Everyone’s doing a hypothermia fic so I figured I may as well contribute. It’s one of my favorite tropes.

title taken from Brian Czyzyk’s poem “Hoarfrost” (he’s my favorite young queer poet and you should check him out).

tw: hypothermia, angst with a happy ending, whump with a happy ending

---

“Do you always have to be so damnably loud?” Geralt growls, glaring at Jaskier from across the small room.

“My apologies for existing,” the bard snaps back. He’d only been rearranging his pack, looking for something reasonably clean to sleep in while his clothes were laundered by the innkeeper’s lovely wife. “I’ll try to do so more quietly from now on, good sir.”

Geralt huffs out a breath in passive-aggressive annoyance and Jaskier bristles.

“Oh well, then. C’mon witcher, I know you want to say it!”

“Say what?” Geralt asks. His voice is low and threatening. He’s ready to play the game and by god he’s going to win this time.

“It’s practically your motto at this point,” the bard hisses through his teeth, angry and bitter and tired. Geralt sees victory. Sees some peace and quiet on the horizon. “Say it!”

Geralt does as he’s told, like any good witcher would: “Fuck off, bard.”

“There it is!” Jaskier laughs joylessly, throwing up his hands. He pulls on his doublet and boots and heads for the door. “If you want me gone so badly, Geralt, then I will go. I’ll get out of your lovely white hair and leave you to mope in peace.”

“Fucking finally,” the witcher snarls, turning away. He doesn’t see the genuine hurt in Jaskier’s blue eyes as the bard quietly closes the door rather than slamming it. He doesn’t hear the quiet sob that rips its way out of Jaskier’s throat as he stands very still, shocked and suddenly exhausted all the way to his bones. He doesn’t smell the salt of his bard’s tears as he slips silently down the hallway and out into the late autumn night. He doesn’t notice the snow starting to pile up on the windowsill ahead of season.

He’s too busy being a self-flagellating moron to notice any of that.

---

Geralt is woken in the middle of the night by a commotion downstairs. He can hear several loud, panicked heartbeats and one very quiet, very slow heartbeat beneath all of those; it’s achingly familiar but the half-asleep witcher can’t quite call its source to mind. Geralt listens as the innkeeper barks out a series of sharp orders: “Meredith, you get to the kitchen and make some strong black tea! Florence, fetch a pail of warm water and two or three towels from the laundry. Josiah you lazy lout, get into the attic and fetch some blankets! The poor lad has gone blue all over!”

The witcher peers into the hallway and catches the skinny stable hand, Josiah, racing for the attic staircase. “What’s going on?”

“A farmer from the next town over was on his way over to help a friend’s sow give calf and he found-” the lad pauses to suck in a great gulp of air and launches off again “-and he found that friend of yours lying in a snowbank, muttering nonsense and shivering like a leaf. The poor fool didn’t have a cloak on him or anything, just a doublet and walking boots! He’s near-dead!”

Geralt curses and makes for the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reaches the main floor. There are voices coming from the kitchen and he follows them as if in a dream, his feet moving without aid of his conscious mind. “Jaskier? Is it the bard, Jaskier?”

“Are you the great brute what kicked him out?” the innkeeper’s wife asks, crossing her arms over her ample chest and narrowing her eyes. Geralt falters.

“No, he- he left on his own, in a huff.”

“Wonder who could have started the huff,” the woman rolls her eyes. This isn’t about his status as a witcher, Geralt knows; this eye roll was made by a woman who knows a lovers’ quarrel when she sees one. Except that this stupid little spat might have cost Jaskier his life.

“Where is he? May I see him, goodwife?”

The woman points to a table in the corner, which has been cleared of cooking implements and cushioned with a heavy bearskin. Jaskier lies atop the brown fur, his skin frighteningly pale, his lips and fingers tinted a slight blue. Geralt rushes to his side and takes one of the bard’s stiff hands in his own. He brushes a stray lock of brown hair from Jaskier’s forehead and nearly recoils in shock from the temperature of his skin. Even colder than his hands, which are already dangerously frigid. If Jaskier cannot play his lute-

Geralt doesn’t even allow himself to finish the thought. Instead he works on rubbing small, careful circles onto the back of the bard’s hands with his thumbs, warming the skin in tiny increments: “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

The bard remains unmoving, heartbeat fluttering weakly, lungs barely drawing breath; Geralt fights back an overwhelming sense of panic, trying to recall whatever training he’d received at Kaer Morhen concerning freezing humans.

“Do you mind if I take him upstairs and tend to him myself?” the witcher asks.

“Can you take care of him?” the innkeeper’s wife replies.

Geralt bows his head, shame licking like flames up and down his bent spine, and nods. “Yes, Ma’am. I have dry clothes for him in our room and I was trained extensively for emergency situations such as this, all witchers are.”

“Alright,” she narrows her eyes. “But he’d best be alive come morning.”

“I’ll happily turn myself over to the village elders to be dealt with accordingly should the bard come to any harm,” he vows. Her eyes widen minutely and he can read the surprise in her body language, but she remains relatively calm.

“Any further harm, rather. Alright, then. I’ll have my husband and the girls bring those supplies up to your room for him. We’ll be glad to go back to sleep.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Geralt bows formally. She blushes despite her irritation with him and waves him away.

“Take your bard and go, witcher, before I change my mind and spend all night caring for him myself out of motherly pity. Go.”

Geralt hefts Jaskier into his arms, heavy bearskin blanket and all, and hurries up the stairs to his room. He will not let Jaskier come to any further harm. Not by his hand. Not by his word. Never again.

---

Back in their room, Geralt quickly undresses the shivering human, peeling away what few damp layers there are with growing disappointment. Jaskier hadn’t been prepared for a walk in the snow at all! Although, to be fair, it hadn’t seemed that cold earlier in the evening and the snow had been sudden and heavy.

He wipes Jaskier down with a warm cloth and slips one of his own clean shirts over the bard’s head. He tries not to let his gaze linger on the way Jaskier’s shoulders don’t quite fill out the dark material. Or on the way his dark, wiry chest hair peeks out through the open laces at his throat. The witcher quickly shuffles him into clean smallclothes and wraps him in a thick wool blanket.

They sit curled before the fire and Geralt holds Jaskier against his chest. He hums with his voice like gravel, grating out one note after the other in some attempt to soothe the bard’s aching body. Jaskier shivers and shakes violently in the witcher’s strong embrace, his eyes clenched shut with the cramps that wrack his frame as his muscles return to their normal temperature. Geralt feels like he’s holding a porcelain doll and keeps his grip deliberately loose, tight enough to comfort but not restrain.

“G-Geralt,” he groans. “Hold me, please.”

The witcher squeezes his arms more confidently around the bard’s middle, burying his face in Jaskier’s soft hair and breathing deeply. The warmth that usually emanates from his busy human body is gone and his chamomile-honey scent is buried beneath a layer of damp cold; it feels wrong. Terribly wrong. Geralt murmurs against his temple, begging the younger man’s forgiveness: “I’m so sorry, Jaskier. Gods, I’m so sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me? I’m a fool, you know. I’m a fool witcher who never says anything important until it’s too late. I’m so incredibly sorry, my love.”

“This is a very good dream,” the bard sighs, smiling despite the pain. His eyes open, bleary and addled. “Like I was having in the woods, but better.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow and Jaskier seems to understand the unspoken question, even in his current sorry state.

“The real Geralt would never be so gentle with me, dear heart. You must be a dream, sent to me on my deathbed to ease my passage into the afterlife. There’s no other explanation for your sudden displays of tenderness.”

“It’s... It’s really me,” Geralt affirms. He runs his hand up and down the length of Jaskier’s spine, “I’m here, Jaskier. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?”

“I forgive you for being stupid ever other day, dear witcher. It is of no consequence to me.”

“It almost was,” Geralt frowns. “I nearly- I almost-”

Jaskier’s arm raises weakly and his too-chilly hand presses to Geralt’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like an idiot. I shouldn’t have kept picking the fight. We both fucked up, alright? What matters is our second chance. We got to have one, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“Am I wearing your shirt?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Yours were all being laundered and this one was clean and it had been in my pack near the fire so it was already warm and-”

“Did you take care of me all night?”

“Hmm.” Geralt sighs after his hum and glances away for a moment. “What did you mean about... about the dream in the woods?”

“Oh. Well, when I was very cold and things were hazy and slow, I dreamed that you were there with me. Everything got very fuzzy and warm for a little bit, and when it was warm you were holding me like this and giving me little kisses. It was... nice. Even though I knew I was dying because you were being so soft, so considerate; saying things to me you’d never say out loud in real life.”

“I love you, Jaskier. I will try my best not to lose my temper needlessly,” the witcher swears. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Can we still cuddle like this?” Jaskier asks, leaning his weigth against Geralt’s firm chest. “It’s so nice to be held.”

“Of course. Anything you want. I’m not going to waste my second chance by treating you poorly. Not for another second, my beloved bard.”

“B-beloved?”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, well then I’m definitely still dreaming.”

Geralt lifts Jaskier into his arms and carries him over to the bed, which is piled high with their extra blankets. He tucks Jaskier into the nest against the wall and lays along the outside of the mattress. He presses his lips to the bard’s, reveling in Jaskier’s returning warmth, and smiles. “I’ll prove it’s not a dream. Every day.”

“Sounds nice,” Jaskier yawns, snuggling into the witcher’s arms and settling down to sleep.

“It will be.”

#geraskier #hypothermia #getting together #bouncey's endless getting together fics #geraskier fic #geraskier fluff #whump with a happy ending #fluff with a happy ending #geralt #jaskier #jaskier whump #jaskier gets hypothermia #caring geralt #soft geralt #winter fics #geraskier winter fics

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missmarymaywindsor · 4 years ago

Photo

“My darling Mama,

thank you and Papa very much for our dear telegram just received- I cannot tell you how much I hated saying good-bye to you, Papa and the brothers yesterday. First of all I feel I must thank you very much indeed for allowing me to marry Harry...”

- letter from Princess Mary to Queen Mary, on the first day of the former’s honeymoon with her new husband Henry, Viscount Lascelles.

Contrary to the popular that King George and Queen Mary were cold, unfeeling, undemonstrative parents; they were in fact very hands on, conscientious parents; particularly for young parents of the Victorian era, if strict at times. George would have his children come down and play in his study whilst he worked, would even bathe and rock his children to sleep, learning very early on that David in particular would calm instantly if he held his own gold pocket-watch to the baby’s ear. He would often ensure to express pride in his children over their achievements, though would not hesitate to pull them up when he felt they were being lazy. This is seen through Prince Harry’s report card one year in which Harry appeared bottom of the class. He received a very stern telling off from his father and promised to do better. Next report card showed an improvement, in which he was closer to the middle. King George was thrilled that his son was working harder. He truly didn’t care how well his children did, as long as they tried their best!

Queen Mary would read and educate her children, teaching them to do practical tasks such as crotchet and knit; resulting in efforts during the war where Prince David donated several blankets made by his own hand to be sent out as supplies. She would often take them on walks, even learnt the words to the ditty ‘Yes we have no bananas!’ which she would sing to David’s accompaniment on the Banjo (of all instruments)! David in particular adored his mother, “we used to have a lovely time together with her...”, they only drifted upon their disagreement over his abdication, though still kept in constant contact through letters.

As a family, they wrote frequently to one another (as often the young parents would embark on long tours, spending months at a time away from their children. Upon embarking on their tour to India in 1905, George and May, after waving goodbye to their children went down to their cabin and wept together over how much they would miss them). They often enclosing personal mementos with their letters, such as photographs, pressed flowers and postcards (example of which Princess Mary collected and compiled in large albums, encouraged by her father to do so).

Some example below of letters between Princess Mary (whom George affectionately called ‘his little butterfly’) and her parents when on their many tours:

“I hope you are quite well dear Mama, we shall be so pleased when you come home, we are going to hang our flags out of the house windows the day you come home. I send you and Papa a bear hug and a fat kiss.” Princess Mary to the Duchess of York (later Queen Mary), 1901

“Many thanks for your dear letter and the nice piece of white heather which I shall keep…..I hope you have put all the postcards I sent you in your book, I thought they were very pretty.” Prince of Wales (later King George V) to Princess Mary, 1903

“I was delighted to get your letter this morning��Your French is beautiful and your writing much improved. I am also pleased to hear that Mademoiselle is quite satisfied with you and that you are getting on well with your lessons…I am sure you could easily beat me at golf now as you have been playing so much lately.” Letter from the Prince of Wales (later King George V) to Princess Mary, 1905

“Here we are in Cairo which is a most interesting place with many different things to see….Today we saw the Colossus of Ramesses II, a huge statue which unluckily has been broken and now lies on its back – we also saw some wonderful tombs. Only think, I actually rode a camel and rather liked it.” Letter from the Princess of Wales (later Queen Mary) to Princess Mary, 1906

“Thank you very much for the postcards you sent me. I have got a lot now…Georgie sends you and Papa a kiss, we are all quite well, with lots of love and kisses, from Mary.” Princess Mary to the Princess of Wales (later Queen Mary), 1906

https://harewood.org/about/blog/in-focus/reviving-the-art-of-letter-writing/

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smallraindrops-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Sweatshirt

(Oh My God, they were roommates.)

Hypnos x male!reader

Fluff, hurt/comfort

1.5k

Heavy Kissing, family issues

roommates/friends to lovers, modern AU

A/N:, for the prompt: sweatshirt, hope you guys enjoy it. It was fun to write. To the Anon, hope this was what you're looking for.

Quickly, you sipped it on and got your backpack on your way out. Just this once, you told yourself.

You didn't plan to take it. It's just so cold out and you haven't done your laundry in a week. It wasn't your fault the bright red sweatshirt was tossed over an armchair, looking better than the only thin shirt you had. It wasn't like Hypnos, sound asleep in his warm bed and would be for the rest of the day, needed it.

💤

You could smell his cologne all day, warm and inviting. You tried to study the textbook and forced yourself to read the words. Dumb words that you need to know for some dumb reason. Why did you think grad school was a good idea?

You looked up from the textbook and its horrible letters, and saw the library was empty.

With some mile guilt, you buried your nose into the collar of the sweatshirt and took a deep breath. It felt dizzying and you closed your eyes.

You didn't have a crush on your roommate, who has been your friend since the first day of college you told yourself firmly. You just really liked his cologne, a lot.

You totally haven't thought about kissing him for years.

You're going to ask him for the cologen name afterwards. And you would never sniff or steal his sweatshirt ever again.

You were such a lier.

💤

You almost didn't make it back in time. With twenty minutes of you tossing the sweatshirt on it's spot on the armchair, Hypnos stepped out of his room with a wide yawn.

"Oh, Y/N, you're back already?" Hypnos asked sleepily, scratching at his chest. Your eyes followed the movement and you had to pull your eyes away from Hypnos.

You went back poking the diced chicken around the pan.

You didn't have a crush on your roommate. it's just been a while. A very long while.

You noticed Hypnos grabbed the sweatshirt and paused. You held your breath; there's no way he could know right?

Hypnos took a sniff and your heart almost fell out of your chest before he shrugged and pulled it over his head.

"Hey, I'm making some butter chicken if you want something before you start streaming." You called out, trying to sound calm.

You blushed at Hypnos' grin, "Aw, Y/n. Did you do that just for me?"

Hypnos peeked over your shoulder at the chicken frying in the pan and wrapped his arm around your waist, his head on your shoulder. "Too bad you're not my boyfriend or otherwise I could ask for this every day."

"Oh my god, Hypnos. Back off, man." You pushed at his forehead. After a moment, he let go with a laugh

"Yeah, thanks. It sounds great." Hypnos said. "Have I told you what happened on twitch last night?"

"Hmm, no I don't think so." You said, secretly enjoying how domestic it was between you two.

"Okay so get this-" Hypnos rambled on and you tried to listen. You really did even all you could think was how much you wanted to kiss him.

Stupid Hypnos and his stupid sweatshirt.

💤

You weren't trying to make this into a habit, you swear after the fourth time. You just saw it tossed over Hypnos' computer chair and took it without thinking.

Which was a mistake because now your professor was explaining something you needed to know and all you could think about was how good you felt in the sweatshirt. The cologne was still just as intoxicating as before and you kept reminding yourself that you were in class.

Just half an hour to go.

💤

When you came home, the first thing you could smell was smoke. You rushed into the kitchen in a panic and pulled the burnt pot off the stove.

Quickly, you tossed the pot into the sink and ran cool water over it. You stared down the burnt noodles that had become one with the pot.

Did Hypnos forget he was cooking again? You sighed, you were going to have to talk to him.

It's when you went into the den where Hypnos normally was, that you saw him. He was shirtless and only wearing a pair of basketball shorts. It was dipped low enough that you were very aware that he wasn't wearing underwear.

And Hypnos was pacing around, holding his phone and pitching his face.

Hypnos was a lazy creature by nature and you knew if he didn't have any biological needs,he would just sleep all the time and never move.

Your heart sank a little, there were only two people in the world that could get a reaction like that.

And apparently, you had just walked right in the middle of it.

"Mom, do we really need to have this fight once a month? I- no it is! This isn't a fun little chit chat. That's the problem with you guys, you never just say stuff as it is." Hypnos snapped back quickly.

He saw you and gestured to his phone, aggravation was sharp on his face but you knew wasn't at you.

You nodded and stepped out. After a moment, you pulled out your phone to order pizza.

You could still hear the argument in the background as you lay down with your textbook on the sofa. Not that you will be able to pay attention to it. You kicked off your sneakers carelessly, trying to listen in on the phone call.

"You know I have a job, just because you don't understand- I don't need to, I graduated too! just because I didn't become a lawyer like mr.perfect -"

You grimaced at Hypnos' tone. You had the misfortune of getting to watch his family's relationships slowly become more strained over the years even with Hypnos' best attempts to bond more. Charon, his husband Hermes and Zagreus were the only ones whom Hypnos talked to regularly now.

Silence filled the apartment and you looked up. When Hypnos didn't come out, you got up.

"Hypnos?" You called out, "Hey, dude. I ordered pizza!"

After a few moments, you walked into the den.

Hypnos had his head in his hands, fingers in his messy curls. The computer was turned off and you could see the phone thrown on the desk.

Quietly, you walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey. It's gonna be okay."

Hypnos sighed, tension mostly leaving his body.at your touch. "It's just… I don't know, Y/N. I'm just… It's always one step forward and two backwards with them."

Finally he looked up to You. Hypnos' eyebrows raised in surprise. "Y/N, are you wearing my sweatshirt?"

You could feel the blood rushed out of your face, with everything going on you had forgotten you were wearing it.

"No?" You whispered.

Hypnos stood with a slight smile on his face. "I think you are, Y/N."

"I'm sorry. I won't -" You went to pull it off but Hypnos grabbed your hand to stop you. His other hand cooked a finger into your jean belt loop and tugged you closer. And you obeyed before you even thought about it.

You flushed, not quite able to look at Hypnos or even think about what was happening.

"It looks good on you. I like it." Hypnos murmured softly.

"T-thanks. I won't steal it again..." you trailed off.

"You can keep it. I want to see you wear it." Hypnos said. He let go of your hand, and placed his hand on your hip, it felt so big and warm.

"Do you want it?" Hypnos asked after a moment.

Do you want me?

You met his golden eyes, it was only because you knew him so well that you heard the unask question.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, and nodded.

The both of you meet in the kiss at the same time. Hypnos kissing you felt like most natural thing in the world. Hypnos pulled you flushed against him to deepen the kiss.

You hummed, fingers stoked his chest, loving how he felt against you. Hypnos pushed at your hips as he took steps forward and made you take backward steps.

You broke the kiss to try ask him what he was doing but he catched your mouth into another kiss.

Your back meet the wall and Hypnos blocked you in his arms by your head.

You gasped against his lips when you felt Hypnos press his body against you. You somehow flushed even harder when you felt his hardness against your thighs.

You pulled away from the kiss, desperate for breath. "Hypnos." You said but you couldn't think what else to say.

Hypnos was just as flushed, his white curls mussed. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that."

You nodded, "Me too." You kissed him again, slower and sweeter. You wanted to take your time, it still doesn't feel real.

Hypnos broken the kiss and his golden eyes studied your face.

You smiled, "You are never getting this sweatshirt back." You told him happily.

Hypnos just laughed and pulled you into another kiss.

#hypnos x reader #hades hypnos #fanfic #request #hypnos x male!reader

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gold3nfics · 3 years ago

Text

Anachronism {Chapter One}

Author's Note: So this is my first written work on here, and I am really excited about this story! This chapter was really just to allow you guys to gain insight into what the story is about and who the boys are. I promise you that Y/N will make an appearance in the next chapter :)

Word Count: 3,814

Our story begins with one man, a man who went by the name Haneul.

Haneul was admired and sought out by many for not only his sharp attributes, but also his magical abilities. He came from a long line of sorcerers before him who had served and protected the realm he resided in.

While he was the one to keep everyone safe, many wondered why he refused to assume leadership, or even live in the nicer part of the land. Instead of living in luxury and riches, he chose to live in the forest away from the bustle of the town solely because he preferred the quiet lifestyle compared to one where many would invade his space and distract him.

One early morning, he woke to frantic knocking at the door of his small cottage.

“Hello?” he opened the door to find that it was one of the royal guards.

“Your presence is requested at the castle immediately.” the young guard says with urgency evident in his voice.

“What happened?” Haneul says now concerned,

“The queen, we believe it is time.”

He grabs his medical supplies and jumps into the carriage heading towards the castle. Once they arrive, Haneul is immediately taken to the royal chambers to begin his work.

Upon entering, his eyes immediately caught sight of the queen writhing in pain surrounded by many servants trying to relieve the pain she was feeling. He approaches the queen with a reassuring smile on his face,

“And how is this young beauty doing?”

“She is not at her best right now.” the queen responds with a weak smile. Haneul releases a sigh of amusement then asks her for permission to check her dilation, after she nods he checks and realizes it is time.

“You, my queen, are about to be a mother in a matter of minutes,” he looks to the servants “bring me warm towels and water.” The servants leave and he focuses on the queen, “I am going to need you to push, but not too hard alright?” She nods and begins to push.

After only seven pushes, the baby is out and the sorcerer carefully wraps the child in a blanket, “Would you like to hold your son my queen?” he says without looking away from the child. When there was no answer, he glances up only to see her going in and out of consciousness.

He immediately hands the baby off to one of the servants and examines her only to find that she has lost too much blood. He does everything he could to revive her, yet she has already passed. He bows his head in shame while holding her cold hand and apologizes, part of him hoping her soul is still lingering around to hear.

Now, there was indeed a ritual he could have done to revive her; however, it is forbidden being that it is far too dangerous to bring a soul back from the underworld.

He stands back with his head hung in sadness, “Alert the king at once.” Just as the servants were gathering to cover the queen's body and filtering out, he approached the servant holding the tiny prince, “May I take him? I need to examine him.” the servant nods and leaves the room.

As he seats himself in a chair behind a divider on the other side of the chambers, he gently looks over the child for any issues. Just as he was almost finished, the child stirs in his slumber raising his small hand to rub his eyes. As the child does this, Haneul catches sight of a white circle on the inside of the child’s hand, at first glance, it appeared as if it was glowing.

Haneul furrows his brows, gently tracing his fingers over the mark. “What is this little guy?”

As he moves to look closer, the servant comes back to collect the young prince to give to the king. He slowly gives away the child and he is soon left to himself to think about what that mark meant. He decides to shake the thought out of his head, and just travel home to rest.

As he rides home on the carriage, he mourns the passing of the young queen. He was quite fond of her, just as everyone else in the realm was. She was not only beautiful, but was also very caring. She would always make jokes and tease others just to have them feel entertained.

Her husband is bound to be heartbroken, he thought in his head. It was no secret the king had worshiped the ground she walked on; not that she didn’t deserve it. The number of times Haneul had overheard the young couple whispering childish jokes to each other, and them arguing over tedious matters were more than he could count. It will be hard to find a woman as kind and unique as she was. I hope her son takes after her. Haneul smiled sadly at this thought.

* * *

As the years passed, Haneul noticed that there have been more and more children who were born with the same white mark that the young prince had. There had been seven boys born throughout the past few years, all of which were born with the same mark and had lost their mothers during childbirth.

“Godammit!” Haneul yells in frustration as he slams his fist onto the table. The table was cluttered with scrolls, books, odd writings, and drawings that even Haneul didn’t even remember taking out. The stressed sorcerer moves over to his bed and faceplants directly onto his pillow.

Not only was he tasked with acting as a teacher to the young prince, keeping the people safe, and being one of the main healers; but he also took it upon himself to figure out what was going on with the seven boys who shared the same mark.

He may have been tired, stressed, and confused; but most importantly, he was worried.

Haneul was a man who believed that there was a reason for everything; death, births, happiness, sadness, there were reasons for all of it. Therefore, he knew that there was a great purpose that followed the seven young boys with the peculiar markings.

* * *

“He follows him as if he was a stray and he threw him a bone. I am surprised Namjoon hasn’t grown irritated.” the young woman says with a tired smile.

“Well Namjoon is quite patient, and I feel that he's the one to keep Jungkook out of trouble,” Haneul responds while packing up his things, “and Yuna, do not forget they both need to meet at my home before dawn.”

“The others will be there, right?” Yuna asks with a glimmer of concern in her eyes,

Haneul grabs her hand as a way to comfort her and stares into her eyes, “They will be there Yuna, they have no choice.” he turns his head to look at the two young men joking around and skipping stones across the foggy pond, “For now, just spend time with the two of them. Okay?”

Yuna’s eyes filled with tears, “Okay, thank you Haneul.”

“Of course” Haneul smiles and bows respectively before departing and starting his journey home.

Haneul has aged considerably throughout the last 20 years, his hair had become greyer and his eyes duller; but his mind and heart were still drawn towards helping people, and to the seven boys with the odd mark, and after many years, he found the answer.

A few months before now, Haneul had stumbled across an old poem.

The world is calm and crops are ripe

Yet underneath its surface lays a darkness waiting to strike

When the circles of seven come to light, so will come a long and frozen fight

A being will propose an idea that the seven circles will see as an answer to end the fight

It is up to the seven circles to decide what path they take, and which is for light and dark

The answer lays at the heart of the one who descends from pure light, for their heart and the seven circles must all reunite

After reading the poem he realized the importance of the young men The poem itself acknowledges a traumatic event that will happen in the time that they are alive, yet it had been months since he found the writing and nothing has happened. However, Haneul knew that something was coming and he came to realize what that was.

You see, two nights prior Haneul had a vision. The vision was not clear, yet it showed a figure whose presence exuded sadness and wisdom. All the figure did was deliver a message that was the following,

“In two days, a frozen death will fall upon your realm. Those seven under the protection of the circle will survive; while all the others will temporarily perish. They will be presented with information that involves seeking another being of pure light to end the frozen death. However, there are two paths they could take with this, but only one being the right one. Do not let them fall into trickery, for that will be their downfall and everything will cease to exist if the wrong path is taken.” and with that, the vision was no more.

Waking from his vision, Haneul knew that he must gather the boys and prepare them for what was to come.

* * *

As Haneul waited for the boys to arrive he put together all of his writings, they were not much but they gave small insight on what was to come. Just as he finished up sorting everything, he caught sight of lanterns and heard the sound of multiple footsteps outside his home.

“Jungkook, if you do not stop stepping on the back of my boots I swear I’m gon-” the voice was cut off by a loud laugh, “What are you going to do Jin? Send your one of the so-called guards after him?” a lazy voice replies.

“Oh that’s rich, coming from a farmer.” a cocky-toned voice chimed in.

“What is that supposed to mean Jimin?” a new deep voice says back, “Guys! Stop it, Haneul is probably hearing everything and I am pretty sure the last thing we want is to embarrass ourselves in front of him.”

Haneul had heard everything; and the last voice was right, they were embarrassing themselves. But the older sorcerer had been rather entertained by their interactions. Putting a sly smile on his face, he opened the front door coming face to face with seven men whose faces varied from shock, embarrassment, to dumbfounded.

“You boys have not changed much, have you?” he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. Namjoon forms a tight-lipped smile, “I am afraid not sir.”

Haneul gestures for them to come in, “Well, let’s not waste any more time.”

Once the boys were led in and settled into Haneul’s study, they began to ask questions. “So why are we here?” Jin asks while the others looked at Haneul.

Haneul looked at them and sighed before speaking,

“Have you ever wondered why you all have those marks on your hands?” Silence.

“Why all of your mothers passed away during your births?” Silence again.

Haneul notices the confused expressions and continues, “Well I did. I knew that there was a reason for those markings and,” he stands and gets a small book, “I found the reason why.”

Haneul gives the book to Namjoon and takes a seat in front of them.

“I spent years gathering, reading, and learning everything about what is just so special about you boys, and all of the knowledge that I have gained can be found in that journal. You boys are a part of what is known as the circle.” The boys look at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain more.

“There was a tale that spoke of seven men being born with the same markings that you boys have. They all possessed special abilities that varied with each one of them. These men used their powers to protect those of their realm and were the ones to keep balance within their realm. However, as time had passed tensions had risen between the seven and because of it, a big fight had happened. Their fight had destroyed not only their bonds, but also ended many people's lives. No one knew the true reason why the fight had happened, but many did not wish to know. Because many innocent people had died as a result of the fight, the people, who were the ones that the seven had sworn to protect, had seen the seven protectors as dangerous and a threat. So they decided to kill them.”

Jimin perks up and scoffs, “I doubt their attempts would have worked, you said they had powers right?”

“Jimin,” Namjoon said, “be quiet and let him continue.”

“Anyways, one of the seven had been informed about the people’s plan to assassinate them and told the other six. That night they had decided to willingly sacrifice themselves, and their lives, to no longer cause suffering and sadness among their people. Now, it seems that the gods have decided to pass on the tale by blessing you seven with the marks.”

“So, we are now the protectors of our realm?” Seokjin asks in a tone that gives the impression he is not thoroughly convinced.

The older man sighs, “Yes, and I know this sounds odd but-”

Yoongi cuts him off laughing, “Haneul, please. We are not people of importance, except for Jin and Jimin. Most of us have grown up struggling and some despising one another. Now you say that just because we have similar marks, and our mothers are dead, it makes us special?”

“Yoongi hear him out, you-”

“Oh Jungkook please, we are nothing and have been nothing for most of our lives.”

“Yoongi,” Haneul starts, “you do not have to believe me right now. None of you do, but something is about to happen and you need to understand what to do.” He gives Namjoon the poem that he had found, which related to the prophecy of the seven who all sat before him.

“After finding that poem, I had a vision where a figure appeared to me and spoke of a ‘frozen death’ that will fall upon our people.” the boys' faces grow concerned, “To end it and bring back the balance of our realm, you boys are to venture outside our realm, find a certain being, and bring them back here.” the boys erupt with multiple questions in response.

“Wait, how do you travel outside our realm?”

“How do we know it's them?”

“What do we do once we find them?”

“What about our families?”

It seems that after that last question, everyone grew silent. Taehyung’s eyes had begun to grow watery, “What about my dad? Will he be okay?”

Haneul grew somber, “Your families, as well as everyone here, will be okay with whatever happens while you are searching for the being. However, their lives depend on what path you take once you are all back here together. In the book that I gave you, it tells you how to get to and from the realm in which the being lives.”

Haneul gets up and notices that the sun is almost up. “I do not have much time, but there is one last thing.” he turns towards the boys, “My vision also said that you would be approached with an idea and to be awar-” Haneul’s breathing had grown rapid as he fell to the ground while clutching his heart.

“Haneul!” Junkook had yelled before getting up and running towards him along with the rest of the boys. “Can you hear me? Haneul?” Namjoon asks while kneeling beside him, feeling for a pulse.

His breathing starts to slow down and he reaches out to grasp Namjoon’s hand; the boys are shocked to see a layer of frost had begun to form around his hand slowly moving up his arm.

“B-be caref-ful, d-do not allow yourselves t-to be fooled. Trust your h-hearts and e-each other. Rememb-ber,” Haneul moves his gaze towards the book he had given now in the grasp of Jungkook, “everything is i-in that b-book.” and with that, the frost overcomes his body and his breathing stops.

The boys stood in shock as the man, who had been a role model for all of them and helped so many people, become absorbed by ice and had fallen into a death-like sleep.

Namjoon stands up and takes the book that was in Jungkook's hands, and he began to head out of the house. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jin exclaims following after him.

“To do what we’re supposed to do. I am going to find a way out of this realm, find who I need to find, and do whatever I need to do to get everyone back.” Namjoon states without stopping.

Yoongi scoffs, “You? In case you don’t remember, Haneul said ALL of us have to work together to resolve this, not just you.” Namjoon stops and turns and furrows his brows, “Weren’t you just going on about how you don’t believe in any of this and how we couldn’t do anything?”

“Yes, but that was before I saw Haneul become a block of ice. I still don’t believe we have powers, that seems rather far-fetched.” Yoongi crosses his arms, “Are you saying that Haneul is a liar?” Jin challenges.

“Not entirely.” Yoongi replies in a cold tone, “I am more confused than anything, I mean how the hell are we supposed to know who this being is once we enter their realm?” Everyone is silent, and Namjoon sighs in defeat, “Does anyone have any idea?” Yoongi asks with frustration evident in his tone.

“I have an idea.”

The boys all turn towards the front of Haneul’s house and see a young woman leaning against the doorway. Jimin steps in front of all of them with a hand on his sword, “Who the hell are you?” the woman raises her hands in defense and smiles calmly,

“My name is Ara, I am a friend of Haneul. It would be best not to harm someone who is here to help you.” The boys grow suspicious and Hoesok speaks up, “Haneul didn’t mention you.”

Ara lowers her hands “He didn’t need to,” she tilts her head glancing at all of the boys, “did you really think that he was the only magical being?”

She snaps her fingers and Jimin’s sword appears in her hands making the boy move forward to retrieve it, “Look, I am not here to harm you, and you having a weapon against me will not solve anything.” She moves her wrist to make an invisible force push Jimin onto the ground. Some of the boys stifle a laugh upon seeing the young guard get huffy and brush off his clothes.

“Your marks.” Ara states, the boys look at her in confusion.

Namjoon looks at her, “What? What do you mean by our marks?”

“Your marks, they will help you find who you are looking for.” Ara leans back and looks at him lazily, “Your marks are similar to magnets, they will lead to one another due to their bonds. As for what you need to do with the being once you get them back here; you must bring you eight and your marks to me to restore the balance.”

Jungkook grows confused, “Why would we do that?”

Taehyung steps forward “Yeah, and what about the story?” Ara furrows her brows, “What story?”

“The one about the seven men who were marked and the protectors of their realm.” Taehyung pauses, “There were seven men in the story and now you're telling us that there are eight?”

Ara stills and sighs while her expression grows serious, “Do you know why your people have frozen into a deep sleep?” The boys shake their heads, “Because there were only supposed to be seven of you, seven protectors. But it appears that an eighth being has been born with the mark as well; however, they are not of this realm meaning that your bonds are not entirely connected. It was a mistake, so you boys and them must come back here and break the bond from them, and then peace and life will be restored.” Ara finishes.

The boys are silent for a moment as if to fully grasp the information they had just been given. “So we travel, find, and bring back the being, then you will break the bond?” Jin asks, “Yes.” Ara responds with a comforting smile.

“And everyone will come back perfectly fine?” Taehyung asks in a hopeful tone. “Yes, everything will go back to how things were before. Except for you now being the protectors of this realm.”

“Wait, what about our powers?” Ara turns her head towards Jungkook, “Aren’t we supposed to have powers?”

Ara grins mischievously, “You will need to figure that out on your own, your guy’s powers will come to you naturally.” She stands, “For now, you boys must travel and find the being.” Ara gives Jimin his sword back and begins to walk away towards the path that leads to their town.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asks and Ara stops and turns. “Someone has to make sure things here remain okay until you get back.”

“Wait a second!” Hoseok yells out, “Why aren’t you frozen? I thought everyone in this realm would fall into a frozen sleep?” Upon hearing this the boys got curious and all stared at her. Ara’s face grew serious, “Because I am not of this realm.” and with that, she vanished into thin air.

The boys all stand there in silence. Namjoon turns his gaze to the book and opens it trying to find out how to transfer them out of their realm.

“I found it,” the boys look towards him, “the book says that we must join hands and visualize the portal into existence.”

“Yeah right, I’m not holding any of your hands.”

“Oh shut up and take my hand Jimin.” Jin says annoyed while grabbing both Jimin and Taehyung’s hands.

“Alright, everyone close your eyes,” Namjoon states and closes his own, “okay now focus on visualizing the portal.”

“How do you even visualize?”

“It’s like imagining, but more detailed.”

“That's confusing, and it also sounds hard”

“Shut up Jimin!” Everyone says while Jimin sighs dramatically.

After a few moments, the seven men felt their marks stinging slightly and a large gust of wind had blown in front of them. Once they all opened their eyes, they saw a large circle of light in the middle of all of them.

Namjoon steps forwards and looks to the rest of the boys, “Here goes nothing.” and with that, they all walk through the portal.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #au #bangtan ot7 #ot7 x reader

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fairydollsteps · 4 years ago

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Hey

Can I request Zenitsu with a female demon reader who lost her husband because of demons and was turned into a demon too and Zenitsu reminds her of her husband when they first meet so she just starts to cry and hug, cling to him? c:

Hello! I find your request interesting and I would love to write it down! :D I do hope you don’t mind if I describe the reader's relationship with Zenitsu is platonic instead just see Zenitsu like a family member as the reader would be a lot older than him, like an adult and also there will be some changes here and there but is related to your request. I do hope what I wrote is what you wanted! There will be a short scenarios about the reader past and some headcanon along with it too. Enjoy reading! 💖

Zenitsu with a Sisterlike Demon Friend

The happiness that you thought would last forever with your dear husband was shattered into countless pieces

It all happens during the night where you and your husband were eating dinner together. The food served was delectable that you enjoy it so much. Just like how the demon enjoying itself devouring your husband after it has crashed into your home.

Just right before you were attacked by the vicious demon, your husband covers you and fights back. Even so, the demon has left you a severe wound that has its blood in it which you will suffer later on.

You were watching your husband fighting the demon back, watches his neck get bitten in the process while you try to stop your bleeding. He screamed at you to run and never come back, you can hear the anguish and pain in his voice.

You did what you were told by your husband out of fear and distress as you can’t handle another second to see the sight of your beloved getting killed. You head out of your house and run away, never looking back. You run as fast as you can, not noticing your blood dripping down from your wound, leaving a trail of blood behind you as you run.

You are turning into a demon as you kept running. It hurts physically but you ignored it and keep running but it worse as you can feel a sharp piercing pain from you wound. You collapsed down and started vomiting blood on the ground violently. Blood is also shedding from your eyes and you can feel your whole entire body tormented from this excruciating pain.

You are turning into a demon.

Now that all conclude the reader’s past, let dive into the headcanons part(cause I am lazy to put in so much effort in continuing this.)

You thought you are going to die at this point, what you didn’t know that the blood trail behind that you bled before has kill some demons with its lethal scent that was about to prey on you.

Little did you know, a young lady with butterfly hairpin both side, wearing a black uniform was watching the whole thing unfold. Watching you vomiting blood on the ground violently then collapsed unconscious.

The next thing you saw after you regain your conscious is where you in a cell. You also saw a bunch of people in different height and build. You also saw the young lady earlier right before you collapsed.

You expect yourself to be petrified because the people are glaring deep in to your soul but you felt nothing. Numb will be the right word for how you are feeling now when suddenly the lady you saw before walk up to you.

“Hello, I am Kanae Kocho. Please stay calm, we are not going to do anything with you. We just wanted to have a talk with you,” she said as she smile sweetly.

That’s when a man with a black shoulder length comes in. Kagaya Ubuyashiki.It’s his name you heard as he was introduced by his children.

He talks to you gently while you are in a cage with a soft smile. He asks you what had happened to you and you explains everything, the tragic events that you have to go through to him.

Of course, the people you saw earlier who were introduced as the Hashira, were suspicious about what you said but also shocked that you have saved many slayers from their corps.

Apparently, what they meant is that your Blood Demon Art has saved countless of lives from the corps where they were investigating the area you were in to hunt down demons.

None has died, only some suffer minor injuries.

Of course, there is some arguments here and there whether they should keep you as their most powerful weapon to hunt demons down or to just slay your head off for good.

It was then decided that the Demon Slayer Corps should keep you after Kanae express her opinion and concern that many casualties would happen if it wasn’t for your power and that you have no intention of killing humans.

Once all has been concluded, you were left to be alive instead getting your head cut off but you would many restrictions. You were later send to Tamayo and Yushiro to stay with them.

You started your lives with them. Tamayo welcomed you in warmly while Yushiro is just glaring at you which he soon get scolded by Tamayo.

Your Life as a demon

Let’s just say that, your husband’s death has put a huge impact on you deeply. You become cold and emotionless. The only person who you can trust for now is Tamayo as she also go through the same thing and also has similar demon technique.

You help her with creating medicine and stuff and soon become a doctor just like her.

Yushiro would later on have respect with you for how you work hard for Tamayo.

You don’t show it, you are disgusted of yourself for become a same species with the monster that has murdered your dear husband. You would left yourself a scar or cut on your face every time you see yourself in the mirror, just watching the blood drip down and hating yourself.

You don’t care about the injuries you had put on yourself cause it will regenerate itself anyway because you are a demon. You bottle and repress your feelings because you are demon and nobody care if you cry cause you are hated for what you have become. Even you never choose to become what you have become.

You are afraid of the thought of how your husband would think about because you have become a demon.

Because you are a demon.

You keep thinking about this often, degrading yourself while keeping a stern and empty face. Showing absolutely no emotions and weakness.

The only reason why you are still alive is because Tamayo was there to comfort you when you are feeling down although you never show it.

One day, you were the strolling around the street during the night. You just want to relax a bit from your mind. The street was dark and quiet. After all, you were out late in the night.

Until the silence was interrupted by a scream from a far distance. You follow it as it sounds like someone is in trouble and hopeless.

You saw a demon on your way, hobbling towards to you. You don’t care about it an annihilate it immediately using your blood demon technique.

That’s when the scream stops, you turn around and saw a blonde boy on top a tree, clinging tightly on one of its branches.

“IS IT DEAD ALREADY!?!?!??! IS IT!??! IS IT!!!! THAT THING WAS HELLA SCARY THAT I JUST RUN!!!!!! the boy screamed.

You walk to towards to the tree and reach out your hand to him.

“No worries, is gone now. Please come down. You might fall,” you said in a reserved turn.

“A-a-are you sure!!??!?!? Y-y-you s-should you k-k-killed it??? he said obviously not believing a word you say until he realized something. You are a demon.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! YOU JUST KILL IT WITH WHAT SEEMS LIKE A BLOOD DEMON ART!!! YOU ARE A DEMON!!!!?!?!? WHY THE HELL DID YOU SAVE ME!??!?! he yelled again after realisation hits him like a boulder.

That’s when you saw a clear image of the boy. He looks just like him. Your husband . You froze for a while and the way the boy knowing you are a demon reminds you all the past. The past that you wished to cover forever comes back.

Your knee drop and then you starts sobbing. All your hate and disgust on yourself is coming back at the same time and its too much for you to handle them anymore. You continue think how your late husband thinks of you. A monster? A strange creature? Not the person that he used to love?

You started to cry when the boy talks to you. “U-um...hey, I am s-sorry for w-what I mentioned earlier,” There is some fear in his voice but there is also some gratitude and sincerity in it. “E-even if you are a d-demon, you did s-save my life after all,”.

He still though keep his distance with you. You noticed a wound on his hand and some on the side of his forehead. You offer the boy to treat your wounds as it do looks pretty severe.

He was reluctant for a while until give in. You still keep your distance with him while tending him, as you do not wanted to scared him like before. Mainly because it makes you think that’s how your husband feel to you because the boy looks so much like your husband except the boy is blonde.

“What’s your name?” you ask. “U-um is Zenitsu A-agatsuma. You can call me Z-Zenitsu,” he answered. “I’m (Y/n) (L/N),”.

Once you finished tending him, you explain yourself a bit that you are working for Demon Slayer Corps along with Tamayo and Yushiro. Zenitsu soon trusted you a little after knowing that you are a no threat.

Just as he was about, you quickly propose to walk back with him as you are worry for his safety to go back.

You both begin to talk and knowing about each other as you both walk. You and Zenitsu enjoy together chatting and Zenitsu is smiling because he can finally talk to a women without making himself a complete fool and making himself look weird. You begin to smile and feel happy for the first time and forever after what you have gone through.

Your Relationship with Him

Once Zenitsu is comfortable with you, your relationship with him is quite similar with Tanjiro, Nezuko and Tamayo. Like Zenitsu helps you finally feel happy and makes you smile just like how Tanjiro and Nezuko makes Tamayo feel the loving feelings of a family.

You are pretty older than Zenitsu so Zenitsu calls you (L/N)-san as a sign of respect for you and you really appreciate it.

You begin visiting the Butterfly Estate during after for a long time just to see how Zenitsu is doing. Shinobu, of course was aware and distrustful with you but warm up a little after knowing that you just wanted to know how Zenitsu is doing after coming back from a mission. Shinobu started to welcome you when you come to visit and started to respect you after you are willingly to share some of your knowledge with poison and medicine with her. she stills don’t trust you but still has some respect and kindness for you.

Zenitsu would introduce you to his friends,Tanjiro and Inosuke. You heard a lot about them from Zenitsu during your conversation with him. Tanjiro would a little bit flustered because of how gorgeous you are and a little scared because you look so stern and cold but soon warm up to you after you treat him with kindness and respect. Inosuke would also like you after you give him some rice balls and shrimp that he becomes so touched that he was stucked for a while because of how generous you are and thinks you are some goddes or something.

Zenitsu would of course be pissed if these two were to hog your attention too much that he feels left out. You would of course meet Nezuko as both you and Nezuko suffered from the same tragedies.

Zenitsu won’t feel any romantic feelings for you because you are a lot older than him so instead, he sees you as like and elder sister and a role model.

You would act like a role model to Zenitsu. Always teaching him how to behave and collect himself when he lost his composure. Also giving him advice and so on. Zenitsu respect you deeply ever since then.

You would also act like a protective elder sister to Zenitsu. and zenitsu loves it. You would always check on him when he come back from a mission, making sure he is eating well, always making medicine for him when he is hurt and so on. You would sometimes offer to tag along a mission with Zenitsu so you can protect him and make sure he is alive. You did all of this for him because you do not want Zenitsu to suffer the same fate as your husband.

Speaking of your husband death, you have once mentioned your tragic past to Zenitsu and explained that he looks so much like your husband which explained why you are so protective and caring towards him. You also mention your hate and disgust on yourself for what you have become.

Then Zenitsu immediately freaks out after recalling your first meeting with hima and he apologies to you profusely. After feeling absolutely guilt for making you cry because of his overexaggerating reaction.

You reassure him that’s alright and is just that he didn’t know. He do still feels guilt though but you would give your sincere reassurance to him.

After you have talk about your past, he wanted to become stronger and more braver so you do not have to worry about him.

Zenitsu would come in a speed of lightning when he knows that you are upset on yourself and would try to comfort you. You really appreciate his effort in cheering you up.

You would also try to help Zenitsu in his training like explaining parts that he can improve and motivate him to continue fighting and training.

Because you are a demon and can’t walk under the sun, you and Zenitsu would hang out at the street markets or go shopping during the night. These memories you created with him are memorable and precious.

You were glad that you save Zenitsu from before as he has helps you heal the scar that was caused from your husband’s death.

All you wished for Zenitsu is for him alive and living happily.

Words: 2,340.....AAHAVIYQWVCKQW!!!! I am sorry that I got carried away for writing so much! I just have so many idea for this and would hate it so much to throw it away!!! This tooks me so long so likes and reblog would be deeply appreciated .Anyway, thank you for reading and have a good day!

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