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padfootagain · 2 years ago

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Caught Red-Handed

Hi! I am answering two similar requests that were sent my way a few weeks ago. Anons requested that Ben and Reader would get caught while making out by the Shadow and Bone cast.

The fic was a little short when I wrote only what you had requested, so I’ve added a cute domestic scene at the beginning. I hope you don’t mind!

Thank you for all your sweet messages anon, they made me very happy!!! I hope you like this piece I wrote for you! Tell me what you think about it :)

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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warning: fluff, tooth-rooting fluff even, some making out but no nsfw content

Summary: You and Ben are happy to be reunited when you come visit him on set in Budapest, while he’s shooting Shadow and Bone. Maybe, you’re even a little too happy, and you get caught by the cast being a little too… passionate.

Word Count: 2882

There is something awfully lovely about mornings.

Or, to be more precise… there was something awfully lovely about this particular morning.

It wasn’t about the scenery, though. It wasn’t about the young sun coming up, still shy and yet already promising a warm day; nor was it about the glistening rooftops of Budapest. It wasn’t about the delicate light coming in your bedroom that painted the walls golden, and it wasn’t about the beautiful architecture of the town.

It wasn’t about the hour either. It was barely 6 am. You could have wished for a little more rest. The covers were warm and soft on your skin, the mattress comfortable, you could have been reluctant to get up. You could have played the infamous five-more-minutes game. No, it wasn’t about all of this.

Actually, it was about that smell of coffee that filled the apartment. It was about the soft humming you could hear, coming from the kitchen, in a deep and warm voice. It was about the quiet rummaging, the scraping of a spoon against glass, and the rhythmic hit of a knife against a plate. You smiled before opening your eyes.

It was about the man who was preparing breakfast for the two of you.

You let out a yawn before finally opening your eyes. His side of the bed was empty already, but it was alright. You knew he was there. You could hear him in the kitchen.

You still let your hand roam across the empty space by your side, out of habits. After two months being separated by thousands of miles, it was normal to feel like all this was a dream.

It wasn’t though. You truly were in Hungary, you had arrived the previous evening. Ben had come to pick you up at the airport despite his busy schedule. Shooting a Netflix TV show was, after all, a lot of work. Still, he took time to be with you. He always did…

You had flown across the world to join him on the set of Shadow and Bone, and would stay for a couple of weeks. These were your vacations, and you couldn’t be more satisfied about them.

You picked up some clothes on your way out of the room, and soon headed to the kitchen to find Ben cutting fruits and preparing toasts, a warm cup of coffee by his side on the counter. He kept on humming and swaying as he cut an apple in slices, setting the pieces in two different plates. You noticed that he was wearing his earphones, thus not noticing you as you approached. It gave you a moment to lean against the doorframe, and enjoy the sight of your boyfriend standing there, in the kitchen bathed in early-morning light. He was wearing his sweatpants but no shirt or t-shirt, and you took your time to admire his back and shoulders, study the muscles of his arms moving with each fall and rise of the knife. You took in the sight of his dishevelled hair, and his naked feet, and the pure intimacy of the scene. There was something gentle in this domestic moment, outrageously simple, and you reckoned that was what made it all beautiful.

He was surprised when you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your chest against his naked back and dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

He winced, taking off his earbuds.

“Your hands are freezing!” he cried with a laugh.

You pulled away a little, unfolding your arms so your hands wouldn’t touch his chest anymore.

“Sorry,” you apologized with a bright smile and a small voice.

But Ben was merely laughing, and he took one of your hands in his.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He brought your hand against his lips to drop a sweet kiss on your knuckles. But when you touched him with your free hand again, he jumped and pulled away completely, fleeing.

“Ha! No, okay… I do mind. I do mind, you’re too cold. That shouldn’t be allowed, at this point,” he protested, laughing more than ever.

You were struggling not to laugh as well, and tried to pout instead.

“I can’t even touch you!” you protested.

He handed you your cup of coffee as an answer. You were finally facing him, and you noticed the dark bags under his eyes, the way his eyelids fell more than usual on his black eyes. He was not fully awake yet. But then, he didn’t seem to have taken a shower for now, which explained his drowsy look.

“Warm your icy fingers first. Then you can touch me all you want, but no more ice cubes!”

You accepted the cup of coffee, the warm porcelain burning your skin. You let Ben stand before the counter again, before teasing him.

“I can touch you… all I want?” you asked with a flirtatious smile, bumping your hip into his.

You saw his cheeks reddening, and the way he was biting back a large grin. He picked up the knife again, and resumed his cutting.

“Now… that could be arranged.”

You let out a giggle, before kissing his cheek. He turned to kiss your lips.

“But not before tonight. No time for shenanigans this morning.”

“Really?” you pouted again.

“Don’t give me that look,” he chuckled, trying to ignore you, but miserably failing to do so. “We just have time to eat some breakfast, get a shower, and then we are needed on set. Or well… I am needed on set. You’ll just spend your day distracting me.”

“A shower?”

“Don’t. Start. Besides… I thought last night was enough to get us through at least twelve hours without you giving me that look again.”

It was your time to shy away, and Ben’s turn to smile contently as he tortured you.

“Right… you’re right.”

“Now, I’ve made breakfast. Let’s hurry! Besides, everyone is asking about you, and when you’re joining us on set, and they keep on repeating how they miss you… bla bla bla,” he pulled a ridiculous face, full of disgust, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha yes… that must be so annoying that your colleagues love me more than they love you,” you chimed, and Ben gave you his best villain stare.

“I do not find it funny.”

But it made you laugh even more, and he broke out of character in a mere second.

You took another sip of coffee while Ben was wiping his hands and putting the knife down on the table. You tentatively touch his arm with just the tip of one of your fingers.

“Too cold still?” you asked, making your voice shy.

Ben shook his head, his smile still on his lips.

“No, it’s fine now.”

“YEEEEEES!” you cried, rushing to hug him and almost tackling him to the ground. He was back at laughing like crazy.

You held him tightly, releasing him just for a second so he could get comfortable and wrap his arms around you as well.

“Thank you for making breakfast,” you mumbled against the skin of his bare shoulder.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

He dropped a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, holding you tight.

You smiled, pressing your cheek harder against his collar bone.

“Me too. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Or well… actually, I’ve missed your shirts. Like this one I’m wearing… they’re very comfy.”

“I hate you…”

“Y/N!”

Three steps.

You only needed to take three steps on set for everyone to be aware of your presence, apparently. You could thank Jessie and her happy cry for that.

She rushed to hug you, and you welcomed her embrace with a bright laugh.

“Hi! It’s so good to see you!”

“Ben kept you away from us for way too long!” Kit added, giving you a hug as well.

“I did not!” Ben defended himself. “She’s the one who didn’t want to see any of you.”

“Now, we know that’s not true!” Jessie replied, sticking out her tongue.

“I was just busy with work,” you explained. “I couldn’t go on vacation before now.”

“Excuses, excuses…” Freddy shook his head.

It was strange to see everyone in full costume again. You spent your morning chatting with your friends, depending on who was waiting for a scene. Ben left you with the Crows to get ready, and you didn’t see him again before lunchtime. Or well, you did see him when you watched him from afar while he was working on a scene but you remained unnoticed, to avoid bothering him.

He fell on a chair by your side for lunch, heaving a tired sigh. It was a merry time, full of laughs and joy and stupid jokes. Jessie took several pictures of you and Ben, and you looked at them fondly on your phone after she shared them with the whole group. Ben leaned closer to look at the screen too.

“You look adorable,” he admitted as he stared at your bright smile.

“I’m not sure how I feel about these scars of yours though,” you teased, pointing at the large marks that had been added across his face.

“It’s to show how much of a bad guy I am. I am tough. Tough guys have scars, you know?”

“Sure,” you laughed. “The Darkling, for sure, is a very bad guy. You, on the other hand, are probably the cutest person I’ve ever met. You’re the opposite of a bad boy.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh, shaking his head slightly as he stared at nothing.

“And then… all my sex-appeal was gone for good…”

You laughed at him, and the mere sound brought a smile to his lips, the kinds he couldn’t refrain.

“I wouldn’t say that, now. We still have some plans for tonight, remember?”

“Plans? Us?”

You looked around quickly, but no one was paying attention to your conversation with Ben. You leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

“You did promise that I would touch you all I want…”

Despite his make-up, you saw his ears and cheeks redden fiercely.

“True… I won’t have the scars anymore by then though. I won’t look like a bad boy anymore.”

“I’ve always preferred kind souls, anyway,” you replied with a grin, before you would drop a peck on his lips.

You rested your head on his shoulder while you listened to Danielle and Amita chat happily, and were disappointed when it was time for him to go back to work.

You walked with him across the main building, hand in hand, accompanying him to the set. He rubbed circles against the back of your hand, the gesture tender and soothing. It was quiet in this corridor, everyone either finishing their lunch or going on set as well. People were busy. Meanwhile, you took slow steps while Ben was rambling about some movie he had watched that week. You forgot for a moment where you were: in a foreign country, in a building you didn’t know, where people created fantastic worlds out of their imagination. Only when you looked at Ben and saw him in full costume, with dark marks across his face, did you remember that he was at work. It was strange, really… the way he always made you forget everything else in the world whenever he was near.

“You’re alright?” he asked with a frown. “Am I being boring?”

“No, of course not. I’m sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“It’s just… I’m just happy you’re here.”

Ben offered you a tender smile, slowing down his steps until the two of you came to a stop. The corridor was empty, silent. You could hear the distant whisper of busy rooms, but the air around you was still. Ben raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing tender patterns across your warm skin.

“I’m happy you’re here too. Even if… you’ve abandoned me all morning.”

You laughed at his teasing, and he did the same.

“Now… again… it’s not my fault if I’m everyone’s favourite!”

“I highly doubt you are, darling. But if it makes you happy…”

You stuck out your tongue.

“I can assure you though that you are someone’s favourite,” Ben added through a chuckle, “if not everyone’s.”

“Whose?”

He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him.

“You are my favourite.”

You let out a bright laugh.

“Considering that I’m your girlfriend… I do hope so.”

“It was a tough competition though…”

“Do you really want to sleep on the couch tonight, my love?”

He rested his forehead against yours as he laughed.

“What about that plan of yours, huh? I thought you had planned some very sinful activities…”

He bumped his nose against yours a couple of times, until it would make you smile.

“Well… for now all I have are plans. Nothing more.”

He hummed, and you closed your eyes. Because you could feel the way he held you tighter against him, the way his fingers were caressing your cheek, his thumb travelling downwards to brush your upper lip. You were so close, your two breaths mingled in the small space between your faces. Your heart had sped up, and so had his.

“We both know those plans will happen though,” he assured you.

“Really?”

But he didn’t answer; he merely closed the gap between your mouths, and you wouldn’t have been able to find any argument against these plans of yours as he did so.

You kissed for a long time, your fingers lost in his hair despite the fact that he was needed on set. And the more time passed by, the more heated your kiss became… lips against lips dancing together, capturing, grabbing, pulling, crashing…

When his lips left your bruised ones to travel down to your neck, you had forgotten how to breathe altogether. He left a trail of goosebumps in his wake as he dropped warm, hungry open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, all the way to that sensitive spot at the birth of your shoulder. He slipped his hand under your shirt, warm fingers running across your back until he teasingly moved his hand to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin. You couldn’t refrain a gasp as his fingers grazed the edge of your bra, and you held tightly on his shoulders for balance, your knees suddenly feeling dangerously weak…

You were, however, in the middle of a corridor, and you were well aware that things couldn’t go further than that. So, you held his face in your palms, pulling him away just enough to kiss him again…

… until you heard some shocked cries from the end of the corridor.

You broke away just enough to see Archie, Freddy, Amita, Kit and Jessie all shouting dramatically and covering their eyes.

“How disgusting!” Archie shouted.

“My eyes! My eyes!” Jessie added.

And all of them added their own cry of despair. Ben rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw in an annoyed gesture that remained filled with fondness. Meanwhile, you were giggling uncontrollably, burying your face in his shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Ben called, struggling not to laugh, and blushing profusely.

“Can we look now? Have you stopped?” Amita asked, peeking through her fingers.

“They make rooms for that kind of stuff, you know?!” Kit exclaimed.

But soon they were unable to refrain their laughter, Jessie being the first to break out of character.

“Alright, alright… let’s go back to work,” Ben replied, shaking his head playfully while you finally broke your embrace and put a step between you and your boyfriend.

“You might need to go back to get your hair done before going back though, mate,” Archie teased, pointing at Ben’s hair that you had, indeed, turned into a proper mess of dark locks.

It made all of you laugh, but Ben could hardly deny that it was more than necessary.

“All of you are just jealous I have the most wonderful woman on Earth just for myself,” he replied, as your friends started to walk towards the two of you again.

“Absolutely not. We just found your PDAs insufferable,” Freddy replied.

“Really?” Ben asked back, rising an eyebrow.

He looked at you with such a mischievous glint in his dark eyes, you knew he meant trouble…

“Kids, these days… they’re a little prude, aren’t they?” he teased his friends, nodding towards them while still staring at you, making them all laugh and exclaim various excuses and arguments to defend themselves.

“You’re right… but they’re young, that’s why,” you nodded. “They still have much to learn…”

“Why don’t we traumatize them some more, then?” he offered, closing the space between the two of you again.

He wore this shit-eating grin again, and his dark eyes glimmered with mischief and something dangerous…

You nodded.

“Yes, we should…”

You were interrupted by a pair of familiar lips against yours, as he held your face in both his hands…

His castmates started their shenanigans again, but you merely smiled into the kiss this time, unwilling to pull away.

After all… you liked it when Ben was full of this kind of mischief…

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes oneshot #ben barnes imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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reigningqueenofwords · 3 months ago

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Greetings, Ghostfacers

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Part 3 of Welcome to the Family

You were sitting in the middle of the back seat, your bare feet resting on the back of the seat in front of you. Sam was passed out in the front, head facing Dean. Smirking, you put your feet down and grabbed the bag next to you. You quietly ripped open the bag that had a plastic spoon in it and leaned forward.

Dean did a double take as you put the spoon in Sam’s mouth, trying not to wake him. Grabbing his cell phone, he turned, taking a picture of Sam.

Biting your lip, you kissed Dean’s cheek. “Send me a copy. That’s too good to not to get one.” You chuckled lightly before sitting back.

“Will do, baby.” He grinned before turning up the music and singing along. Sam jerked awake, spitting the spoon out, making you laugh. Watching Dean have such a good time made you extremely happy. He deserved it.

Sam leaned forward, turning down the music. “Ha ha.” He said without humor. “Not funny.”

You chuckled. “Sorry, Sammy.” He raised an eyebrow at you, glancing over his shoulder. “There’s not much scenery here, and you made it so easy…” You teased.

Dean was laughing, but it was clear that Sam wasn’t exactly amused. “Dean! We’re not kids anymore.” He snapped. “We’re not gonna start that up again.”

“First of all, that was her.” Dean pointed out. “Secondly, start what stuff?” He smirked.

Sam shot a glare at Dean. “This prank stuff! It’s stupid, and it always escalates.”

You bit your lip. “It’s like watching a puppy try to get mad.” You chuckled, earning a half annoyed, half amused look from Sam.

“What’s the matter, Sammy, afraid you’re gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again?”

The entire time you were subjected to listening to the ‘witnesses’, all you could think about were fries. That’s all you smelled, and they were making your mouth water. Each account got more ridiculous than the next. Blood on the walls. No, they were painted black. The only thing they had in common was that they all said they saw symbols. Not that they could name them. After the guy behind the counter said the dead girl was ‘kinda hot’ that was your queue to exit stage left.

You were sitting on one of the tables when Sam walked over, handing you a large fry and a drink. “You…are a saint.” You laughed, taking them.

He laughed. “You were all but drooling over there. I figured this was why.” Sam shrugged, his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Where’s Dean?” You asked.

“Getting a bit of info, then heading to the bathroom.” He sat next to you and stole a fry. “I’m glad Dean met you. You seem good for him.”

You blushed. “Thanks. I try. He deserves it.”

Sam watched your profile, with a soft smile on his face. “As long as he treats you well, and it seems like he does. You deserve it.”

Sitting against the headboard at the motel, you shook your head as Dean dumped itching powder in Sam’s underwear. Your mind was instantly taken off Dean and went straight to the gutter when Sam walked out in just a towel. Your eyes went wide, noting that it was only being held on by his grip.

You caught yourself staring and looked away, blushing. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to look at other attractive people, but this was your boyfriend’s brother. “Whoa!” You got off the bed when Dean left the two of you in the room. “I’ll, uh…be…outside.” You said rather quickly before moving around Sam, trying not to look at his bare back.

Sam chuckled. “Alright.” He smiled.

Tagging: @callsign-ember

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hajimeiwaswife · 4 years ago

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THE WAY I LOVED YOU

Word count: 4,2K

Wanings: angst (but fluff, too)

Summary: You weren't over the love Childe provided you, even when you were engaged to Albedo years later.

A blue, pink and mauve sky garnished the surroundings of the Stormbearer Mountains. The summery breeze, warm as the light of the bright sun, comforted those who walked along the path of fallen leaves, wild flowers and the smell of mint. A beautiful landscape presented itself for sore eyes to see.

A certain Alchemist was working on his new masterpiece, relaxing under the few rays of light that came with dusk, painting the one he considered the most beautiful person to ever put a foot on Teyvat. Mixing the colours of nature, he portraited on the sketch book the view he had of his fiancée and the scenery, all of it worthy of a cheesy romance novel and a fantasy book.

"How much time do you need?" Y/N asked in a tired tone, trying not to shift her position, "I'm getting crumps on my face from smiling."

The man didn't answer at the moment, considering for a brief time her question and filling a space on the page that still needed his attention. At last, he looked at her and smiled at the image he had the honour of witnessing. The girl, dressed in a summer white and blue dress, was slightly pouting at the lack of talking from his part. Her hair danced with the wind and he thanked Barbatos for letting him see her golden locks fly around her face.

"Just a little more, my love," he answered, his attention shifting back to the drawing in front of him.

"You said that an hour ago," the girl sighed, putting a smile again on her face so she didn't disrupt her lover from painting her, "I thought you wanted to go see Sucrose before the sun came down. Oh! And also, you promised Klee you'd visit her."

He hummed, immersed in the way her features took a hardened expression when she tried to remember something that needed to be done. Brows furrowed and fore finger on her right cheek, she looked at him in search of a comment from the Alchemist.

"Albedo! Are you listening to me?"

"You're so beautiful." mumbled the man, lost in her and the blush that was forming on her visage.

Shameless and, at the same time, honest and shy. That was Albedo, the one she was engaged to. Such an honourable and good man, someone who loved her as much as the Sea loved its waves, as much as the birds loved the Wind, as much as a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire. He gave her his everything and from the bottom of his own person, and she was grateful for it.

"I'm sorry" he promptly said, coughing on his palm to hide the evident embarrassment he felt, "It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."

At that, she couldn't help but laugh. He was such a beautiful person, always searching her comfort and well-being before anyone else's, always taking care of her and looking for her. A pure soul, she would venture to affirm.

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," Y/N chuckled, positioning once again for him to portray her, "you know I love it when you compliment me. Now, c'mon, finish before the sun falls."

"As you wish."

One more hour of dirtying their hands in paint and observing the marvellous dusk that came upon them, they left to visit Sucrose, who was willing to tell Albedo about her advances in the research they both were working on.

"That's impressive, Sucrose," Albedo praised the girl, reading the documents and correcting those things he found could be improved.

Y/N turned off the conversation, not really interested in the depths of the Alchemy. She respected what the husband to be and her friend did for a life and she couldn't be prouder, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear the endless conversations about properties a flower could have.

After saying goodbye to the little Alchemist, they both headed to say hello to little Klee, who was mad at them for coming so late, it was already her time for bed and, as she said, 'We can't go bomb fishing!', followed by a 'Do you not love Klee?' Reassuring the little bomb crazy kid was more draining than she could imagine, but she did it for Albedo, nonetheless.

The afternoon turned into the late hours of the night, lilac sky was now dark and adorned with stars. The Alchemist had intertwined his fingers with Y/N's, sighing in content, allowing himself to relax at the warmth of her hand and the serenity reigning in Mondstadt.

"Maybe we should head home, you seem exhausted," commented Albedo after watching his fiancée yawn for the third time in ten minutes.

"That would be great, actually." Y/N yawned again, gaining a quiet chuckle from the man next to her.

No one talked again, everything already said until the moment to bid goodnight when they laid in bed. Albedo, being the reserved man he was, kept himself in his side of the bed, not too confident to spoon his girl still.

The silence was only accompanied by Albedo's soft snores. Darkness decorated the walls of the room in the AM. The sense of being trapped growing inside Y/N as she thought of the implications of her new life. She was engaged to an incredible man, who told her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her every single day; who went with her on strolls and made her laugh; who could teach her more than she could ever imagine; who appreciated her as she was.

Still, she felt nothing. At all.

She liked Albedo, that was clear. Who wouldn't like Albedo? He was the perfect man. On more than one occasion, Y/N had Amber and Barbara drooling about how lucky she was to be with someone like him. She knew she was the luckiest girl in Teyvat, most women simped over Diluc or Albedo. But, at the same time, she only felt guilt for being with him without actually loving him.

Anxiety growing on her, she decided to stand up. She walked out of the room, being careful not to disrupt Albedo's sleep, and headed to the transport point, she needed to be away from any form of human activity, she felt like shouting and hitting the first thing she could see. Breathing becoming a very tedious task as she approached the device, opting to go to Mt. Aocang. If she was going to wake someone up, she preferred an Adeptus who wouldn't ask more than any nosy human.

The wind, colder than that afternoon, calmed her to the point her lungs could take the oxygen she had been trying to get for minutes. The orange leaves obscured by the night reminded her of the hair she used to love so much. The hair of that man she had once despised, then loved, and then lost.

He, who claimed to be brave enough to enter her heart, had been the one to take it and keep it even until those days. Y/N noticed how her breathing became irregular again, she was used to it, every time she thought about the Harbinger. That repulsive, irresponsible, dishonest, cunning, intelligent and breath-taking man she couldn't forget. How had she let it come so far?

Albedo gave her everything, yet her heart yearned Childe's love. How pathetic.

"Fuck you, Childe!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring for the Adepti, not caring for those who could hear her cursing the Harbinger Tartaglia at 2 a.m. a Thursday night. "You ruined me, you motherfucker!"

So many fights, so many make outs, so much love making, so many nights under the stars trying to comprehend their feelings for the other. All of that for nothing. Like the bitter cold of Snezhnaya they froze, their hearts on their sleeves, light that came from the satellite above turned off.

"You know, sometimes I feel like you don't like me that much." she remembered him saying, his characteristic smirk on his face, "It's true we had our... abrasions, but girlie, c'mon, don't be so stiff."

She could clearly see in her mind how his hands came to her waist, grabbing her in a gentle but at the same time rough grip. A shivered down her spine, in the present and in the pass, and she was sure she would feel it in the future, too.

"How am I supposed to trust you, Harbinger?" she had said, crossing her arms after pulling away from him.

"Easy, trusting me."

And she did. She felt like a fool for allowing him to be so near, to had felt love from him, for loving him.

"Are you feeling okay? You look pale, my love," Albedo commented, a hand of his on the forehead of his lover, a worried expression on his face.

"Yes, Albedo, don't worry, I didn't sleep too well last night," Y/N reassured him, smiling slightly at her fiancé.

The Alchemist hummed, nodding to himself and returning to his work. The girl had returned to their room after a couple of hours in Mt. Aocang, praying for Albedo to not had noticed her absence. Apparently, he didn't. Had he noticed he would had already asked about it, or so she thought.

"I was thinking about visiting Liyue today, there are some materials there I need for my research," Albedo said after some minutes, looking at her, "I was wondering if you'd like to come."

Y/N's heart dropped. She had to say yes, how could she say no to Albedo? He wanted to spend time with her while still working, an effort she really appreciated. But, going to Liyue? What if he was there? Strolling those streets the two of them had travelled a thousand times.

But his gaze was still on her, waiting patiently for a reply. Doubtfully, she considered all her options: not going and upsetting Albedo; going and crossing him; going and being unable to continue due to the memories. No option was good, she had to choose between her fiancé's well-being and hers. 'He's made so any sacrifices for me'.

"I would love to, love."

Merchants selling, people buying, contracts being signed. That was Liyue in all its glory. Red, green and blue being the most recurrent colour themes on the walls, roofs and gardens, a gift to anyone who wanted to visit a paradise.

Albedo was buying some materials while Y/N stood next to him, not looking at anyone's face in case Childe decided to make one of his classic appearances. She grabbed Albedo's sleeve as a way to comfort herself, reassuring one time and one time again that she didn't have that much of bad luck to cross him in such a huge city.

She turned her head to look around at last, brave to see the stores and Liyue's people. Many of them knew who she was, having helped most of them at least in one occasion, great people with beautiful and peaceful lives. She had that now, at Albedo's side. But why did she feel like it wasn't what she wanted?

The red mask in one of the stalls froze her in her place, it looked identical to Childe's. She knew it wasn't his, of course, he was too involved in the Fatui and too wealthy to pledge his mask, but it made her remember him and one of the many memories she had with him in Liyue, again.

"Girlie, don't be like that" Childe exclaimed, smiling at her with bravado, "You don't have to feign you don't want that bracelet."

"I don't want it," repeated her for the third time, growing irritated.

"I have enough money to buy it for you, darling," the Harbinger insisted, taking her left hand in one of his and kissing her knuckles.

"How charming," she murmured ironically, rolling her eyes and pulling her hand out of his grasp.

"I know," he smirked, going after her, "and I also know how much you love when I act like a gentleman."

"How would you know that if you've never acted like one?" she snorted, watching his expression turn into an offended one.

"I'm a gentleman, you just can't appreciate my efforts to woo you," he replied with a pout.

"Aw, little Childe can't take a no for an answer," Y/N continued to tease him, smiling slightly at his spoiled brat's act.

"Very well, little lady, you're not having that bracelet," he stamped and turn away from her, walking without a real direction.

"Not that I wanted it!" she shouted at the distance.

Needless to say, she found the bracelet in her purse that night with a cheesy note that claimed 'To my favourite and stubborn traveller, with love, Childe'.

She still had it in her wrist, accompanying her wherever she went, reminding her of the stupid man that gifted it to her. Golden with Snezhnaya patterns, orange jewelry decorating the surface of the material. Albedo never said anything about it, never asked, and she was grateful for it, he knew to respect her space.

Her fiancé had just finished purchasing what he needed, looking at her with a loving gaze. She felt nothing, only appreciation, and she felt awful for not returning his feelings at their best, he deserved to be loved and spoiled. However, she missed him, she missed what they had.

The grey sky announced the storm that was coming, thunder and lightning appearing to give a performance of nature power. She had fought, walked, ran and danced in rain. She had danced, kissed and loved. But nothing of it with Albedo.

"Now a step to the left" instructed Childe, grabbing her waist with his left hand and her hand with his right one, "and now turn around... That's it! Perfect! You're a natural."

"Stop lying," she laughed, following what he was saying and dancing with him in a forgotten valley in some old ruins, "I can't dance for the love of Barbatos."

"I think you're really good, almost seductive," he purred, kissing her jaw and going down her neck, "seeing you move your hips like that just" an animalistic growl came from the back of his throat.

"Okay, calm down big guy, we're not fucking here."

The sound of thunder interrupted his reply, confusing them both for a moment. Suddenly, rain poured and soaked them wet. Y/N looked for somewhere they could go to shelter from the storm, but Childe just laughed and started making her dance again.

"What the hell are you doing, pee-brain!" she exclaimed, desperate.

"Dancing with you under the rain. Isn't it romantic?" he asked, smug as always.

"Romantic until we catch a hypothermia."

He didn't budge. Swaying them both with the dark landscape behind them, leaves flying around, wind aggressive. But nothing mattered as they looked at each other; love, affection and lust hidden in their souls, wanting nothing more than to indulge to the other and become one. How can anyone love this much? How can feelings root that deep? Childe was the only answer to those questions.

With nothing but a soft caress to her cheek, he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her while the rain accentuated the wet sounds. Everything with him was wild, but so addictive she couldn't help but coming undone, indulging to everything he asked silently from her. A kiss in the rain never felt so good.

"I'll be right back, I just need to drop this at Mingxing Jewelry," Albedo said, giving her a peck before leaving.

She stood there for a few moments, wondering what she could do white she waited for her lover. The rain was nearing Liyue Harbor, Albedo had told her he needed to do a couple of things more before going to the transport point to return home. She felt like throwing up, not a single spot in the city did not remind her of the love of her life, including their ugliest moments as a couple.

"How could you!?" Y/N screamed, feeling completely devastated and deceived.

"I had to! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No! It's not okay!" his indifference was breaking her heart, looking at him with disappointment, "Again! You did it again!"

"I was ordered to!" he shouted, his voice the same tone as hers, wrath in his eyes, "I have a job and you knew about it when you decided to fuck me!"

"What the hell, Childe!" she cried, "First of all, you nearly destroy Liyue! Again! Not only once but twice!" she was tired, everything was going down in front of her and she didn't want to watch it come to ruins, "And fuck you? You mean love you?"

"Love, sex, everything's the same, isn't it?" he replied, calmer and returning to his indifferent tone.

"W-what do you mean?" the fuming storm stopped to bring an eye of the hurricane, waiting patiently to unleash the tsunami over them.

"What you heard; I don't find a difference between the two concepts."

"You're lying," she murmured, unbelieving. How could he say that when an hour ago he was looking at her with so much love? Was it all an act? No, you can't feign feelings so deep.

"You're just too fool to see it, girlie," his smirk appeared, making her shake in fear, fear of losing what she cared about, "confusing terms and assuming things without asking."

"You're lying." she repeated, more to herself than for him to hear. He sighed, as if he was done with her.

"Think what you want. Now, there are people waiting for me. Until next time, girlie."

The shattering of her heart served up as the soundtrack of his departure. The leaves that had been once so vibrant and full of colour now danced around her in muted tones, mocking her. That was it, the end of their love. The palace the resembled their union fell into pieces, she needed to let go of him. The words he said cut deeper than a knife, made her feel cold. But how could she let go if she still loved him?

"So now you're with the Alchemist," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, making her turn to the source of it.

There he was. Orange hair and piercing blue eyes. His smirk wasn't present in the portray he displayed of himself, walking as the noble man he said he was. Her heart raced for the first time in years, asking her for indulgence, for permission to feel.

"Yes," was the first thing she said after some minutes processing what was happening. Childe was there, in front of her, "yes, I'm with Albedo."

"I see," he commented, uninterested. She thought that was all the interaction they would have, that he would go away again and leave her live her life, but she had to know better, "even if you can't forget me, you allow yourself to be with someone else?"

"What is it to you?" Y/N felt offended, who did he think he was to reprimand her in such a dirty way? He couldn't know she wasn't over him, could he?

"It's unfair for both of you. You see, love shouldn't feel like you owe something to someone just because they love you." Childe said, his gaze falling at the bracelet for a couple of seconds before looking at the landscape, "You're fooling him and yourself."

"And what would you know about love?" the question came in a bitter tone. She was angry, how dare he talk about love when he did her so wrong? When he hurt her so much?

"Touché." Childe gave her a sincere smile that reached his eyes, it was breath-taking. Y/N felt her stomach twirl and her heart jump at the sight of such a beautiful scenario, "Glad to see you well, Y/N. See ya!"

And like that, he left the place as if he hadn't turned her world around again. She missed him, she admitted to herself that she missed him. She missed his wild nature, his odd conversations, the mystery wrapping around him. She couldn't forgive him, but she couldn't live without him, either. That's the way she loved him.

Once Albedo returned from his errands, they both went to the transport point to return to Mondstadt. The way back was silent, but not a comfortable one as they always had, there was some tension lingering in between them. She wanted to attribute it to the tension she had been carrying since her encounter with Childe, but deep down she knew there was something else.

When they entered their house, they both changed into their sleeping garments without sharing a word, waiting for the other to be the first one to break the silence. Y/N didn't have it in her to be the brave one in the situation at hand, so, finally, Albedo spoke.

"I know you're not over him," he said, calmly, but there was jealousy in his tone.

She was surprised to hear him say those words. She never mentioned Childe before, less being in a relationship with him. She wanted to feel fear, the same one she felt when her argument with Childe broke them apart, but she felt nothing at all. Why? Why couldn't she be in love with a man life him?

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Y/N." Albedo sighed, sitting at the edge of their shared bed.

"B-but", she stuttered, searching for words, "H-how do you know...?"

"There were rumours... some years ago, about the 'traveller' being with one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. It was during your time at Liyue."

She nodded, understanding, but really not understanding anything, "Did you believe them?"

"I can't say yes, but I can't say no, either." Albedo looked at her, he didn't look angry, and that made her feel a little bit better. "I just couldn't know if it was true or not because I wasn't there."

"I see." another moment of silence followed. She took a deep breath and looked at him in the eyes, "Why do you say that I'm not over him, though?"

"There are so many signs, you aren't the subtlest person, love." he chuckled, "The bracelet has Snezhnaya patterns and you haven't taken it out in all these years. I can only assume it was a present from Tartaglia."

Y/N nodded again, impressed with how observant Albedo was and with his deduction skills. She wished for the hundredth time that day that she would have fell in love with him and not with the Harbinger.

"I'm so sorry-" she began, but was quickly interrupted by her fiancé.

"Don't." he commanded, "That's not the only thing that gave you away."

"What do you mean?"

"Your late night trips."

'He knew' she thought, searching for any clues that could tell her when he had discovered it, but there were none. 'He has known all this time.'

"Why haven't you said anything?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you space," he began, "I must admit, however, that at first I thought you were cheating on me."

"I would never-" she was interrupted again, a kind gaze on his eyes.

"I know, I know. I realized when you came home smelling like grass and mint and not with the cologne of another man."

It was silent again, Y/N tried to find anything she could say to make him feel better, but she couldn't even understand himself. Why isn't she feeling her heart shattering? She knew why, but she didn't want to indulge in that feeling.

"I'm so sorry, Albedo. I really am."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not." those words sounded identical to the ones she had directed to Childe once upon a time.

"I am aware that you don't love me the way I love you."

"Albedo-"

"But it's okay, I can love both of us enough to fill that gap."

She was at a loss of words. Had she heard it right? What did he mean? Albedo was so calm, so ethereal, looking at her fondly even when he knew she didn't feel the same. He was going to marry a woman that didn't want him the same way she wanted her. And even though he was aware of that, he was smiling.

"Why?" she wondered out loud.

"Because that's how it works, that's the way I love you, until you can return my feelings."

The leaves that danced aggressively at the other side of the window stayed still, processing the scene going on in the room of the Alchemist and the Traveller. Their colour coming back to a vibrant one, giving her hope of being able to love again, to feel something.

Her love with Childe was like the Sun and the Moon, so in love they were crazy for each other, but impossible and unworkable. But, Albedo loved her like the Sea loved its waves, like the birds loved the Wind, like a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire, and she was going to return it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but she would. And when she did, she would love him as much as the Leaves loved their trees, as much as the Lake loved the rain that floods it, as much as the Horizon loved dusk.

She bid goodbye to Childe that night, leaving the bracelet in the drawer in her nightstand. Adorning her hand only was the ring Albedo had gifted her.

"See you, Childe," she murmured at 2 a.m. before falling in her slumber.

#albedo x you #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #tartagila #genshin impact #genshin liyue #liyue harbor #mondstadt

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inb4belphienaps · 4 years ago

Text

crying over spilt milk

warnings: none word count: 2285

“Truth be told, I’ve been having these dreams. Dreams almost of another life, a past life perhaps. One that I’d lived and seen and breathed through at some distant point in time.”

I read over my words, holding the letter in my hands.

“They are, by far, the most intricate and detailed dreams I’ve ever had. Usually, I don’t remember them. But these…these feel too real, too specific, too thought out to be anything except something akin to memories of a bygone era.”

I recall a few of them with some difficulty. That was always how dreams worked, like trying to grab mist with your bare hands and having nothing tangible left as evidence.

“Shall I confess?

They have now become a source of entertainment for me, having increasingly rooted themselves in my mind, to the extent that I find myself looking forward to (for lack of better phrasing) the ‘next installment’.

It’s bizarre, I’ll admit. How eager I am to get to sleep as soon as the clock shifts from afternoon to evening, when the hour hand turns to six and I wonder if I’ll see him again…”

as you slowly float back up to the surface, the first sound that hits you is the singing of birds. their bright and cheerful chirps filter in with a hint of irony. though they're pleasant, quietened by the curtains hanging over the windows, it means that it's still rather early.

there's a chill in the air and you turn over under your duvet, tucking your feet in further towards your knees, eager to keep the warmth on your skin. and yet, you open your eyes, not needing to blink any sleep from them. oddly enough, you're more awake than you'd thought. whatever dream you'd been having is far from your mind as you bask in the scattered sunlight dancing on your walls.

such serenity ignites a type of mild excitement in you. and with that in mind, you will yourself to get out of bed.

you draw back the curtains and glance outside, looking out at the landscape, where the sun is shyly peeking over the hill. dawn is only just breaking and as you open a window, a gust of wind greets you, sending a rush of floral scents your way.

you can place notes of rose and lavender, and maybe honeysuckle too. the scenery is beautiful, and you lean against the ledge to admire it. clear skies and waves of green, dotted here and there with reds and pinks and yellows. there's a calmness to the color and vibrancy. something you hadn't stopped to feel in a long time.

it stays in the background. while you pour yourself some tea and sit down for breakfast, and when you turn on the radio to the crooning of some ballad you can't quite place. and even as you set about doing the laundry, humming every now and then to a tune only you seem to know.

the basket you use is one you've weaved yourself (in an attempt to be impassioned by a new hobby). it's small and sturdy and it does the job. you wonder whether it'll last you, hoping that if it breaks, it'll at least do you the favor of waiting until it's empty.

though it doesn't take long, you're startled to see the sun in the sky as you step onto the gravel path, basket in hand. it seems to stare down at you and wink as clouds roll overhead, creating capering shadows on the field as you start hanging the wet quilts one by one.

a couple of bees follow you around as you go about your business. and when you stand still to breathe in the smell of freshly washed linen and admire the warm glow cast on those sheets by the light, a butterfly flutters past.

it brings with it the distant ring of a bicycle bell. you look to the east where a man in uniform comes riding up the hill and the smile on your face could bring shame to the flowers lying near your feet.

"good morning", he says, slowing and stopping a foot or two away from you. he tilts his cap and you note the way in which his fringe barely covers his right eye.

"good morning", you reply. "it must be exhausting having to make that trip every day."

he laughs. it's sweet.

"i don't really mind."

in his hand he carries a metal basket and neatly arranged inside are six glass bottles full of milk.

"how many would you like today?", he asks, and you have the urge to tell him you'll take everything he has to offer. but of course, you don't say this aloud.

"just the one, please."

as he picks up one of the bottles to give to you, you swallow your spit and gesture towards your house. the shadows continue to dance above it, making it seem fluid despite its usual rigidity.

"can i get you something to drink? a coffee, perhaps?"

he appears taken aback, eyes widening a fraction before he smiles, and you feel your heart leap into your throat.

"i'd like that very much. a coffee sounds great."

you momentarily freeze, having expected him to refuse your offer. and then you're taking the bottle of milk and your basket back inside as he follows after you. you turn back to him as he enters and the sheets you'd hung flail slightly behind him, almost like a set of wings.

"cream and sugar?"

"um, no. but could i trouble you for some ice?"

an iced americano, you think. placing your basket on the floor and leaving your bottle on the kitchen counter, you busy yourself with preparing his beverage.

"my name is belphegor, by the way. i think you should at least know who it is that's been delivering you your milk."

you pause, having taken a mug out of the cupboard, and meet his gaze. his tone sounds a little indignant. were you simply being sensitive?

"it's a pleasure to officially meet you, belphegor."

the both of you exchange a shared laugh (the sudden bit of formality is embarrassing). he's the first to look away, breaking the eye contact that has goosebumps erupt on your skin. hm, perhaps you were overthinking things. only, the problem is that you're not sure you have any ice in the fridge.

"were you listening to music?"

"yes- oh", you say, confused at the static that greets you. "the program must've finished."

he glances at the radio and then at you. in your bid to locate the instant coffee you have, you don't notice.

through a strange coincidence, you find it sitting pretty on the top-most shelf of the pantry. you frown, wondering if you'd placed it there by mistake.

belphegor is about to open his mouth to speak again when he sees you reach upwards, fingers brushing across the jar mere centimeters out of your grasp. you're on your toes, leaning forward, barely balancing as you try your hardest to take it.

the man remains silent, watching you with a detached type of curiosity.

darn shelves, you think, as you stretch as far as you're physically able. still, the glass slips from between your fingers and you resort to stepping on a sack of flour. right as you grab it, the corner of the sack slides out from underneath your foot and you gasp, knowing all too well how this was going to end.

but there's a hand on your shoulder and a solid chest against your back, and a pleasant voice in your ear that suggests otherwise.

"so much trouble for a coffee."

his breath tickles the nape of your neck and you twist around to thank him, unprepared for the amused expression painting his face. from here, you can see every freckle, every eyelash, and every stray hair left untamed by his cap.

"you okay?", he asks, too close and quiet. too intimate that you forget yourself for a second.

"i'm...i'm fine."

those furrowed brows of his make you think twice and you place a hand to his chest, marveling in its warmth. you can feel his heart beat. it's steady, unfazed by whatever silly accident had happened just now.

"thanks", you mutter, swiftly removing yourself from his arms (firm and inviting). "i'll uhh...i'll make your iced americano, shall i?"

he doesn't say anything as you take a spoon and measure out the ground powder. and the silence lingers as you bring a pot of water to the boil. your thoughts, however, are that much louder, that much more pronounced. you were never one to invite strangers into your home. why was he such an exception?

"you can stop staring."

belphegor chuckles and you hate the fact that you can't ignore it. his laughter, it twinkles, and it has you looking at him all over again.

"i was keeping an eye out for you. in case you decide to make a habit of falling while i'm here."

you scoff, opening the fridge door to remove the ice tray. six cubes blink up at you and you ease three out, popping them into his mug in rapid succession. it's a tad violent and some of the coffee sloshes out onto the counter.

"thank you for your concern. but it's really not necessary."

he walks towards you, and you remain fixed on his bowtie, hoping to avoid being trapped by his alluring purple irises.

"if you say so."

and he takes a sip. and you find a cloth to wipe the spilt coffee with.

"it tastes good", he says. "maybe i should ask you to make me one every morning."

"tough luck", you reply, glancing at him as you clean. "i'm afraid this is the last of my hospitality."

besides, you didn't have it in you to continue acting an utter fool around him. something about his self-assuredness serves as the antithesis to your nervous energy, fueling it further to the point that you're doubtful about whether he'll return tomorrow.

"is that any way to talk to your knight in shining armor?"

oh. nevermind. that question makes you want to slap the handsome smirk off his face.

you give one last swipe of the counter, as if to stand your ground, and straighten up. yet it only leads to disaster.

the lonesome bottle of milk that you'd put atop it, comes crashing down onto the tiles, spraying its contents along every surface and scattering glass shards in its wake. the knot in your stomach tightens and you refuse to acknowledge the man who hasn't budged an inch.

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"what am i going to do with you?"

as you stoop down to gather the glass, he mirrors you.

"i can-"

"it'll be faster with the two of us."

apparently, it's your turn to watch him. you slow your movements as you focus on his hands, how meticulously they pick up each broken shard and how conflicted you feel about him doing as such. in your daze, the edge of a particularly sharp fragment digs into your thumb and you flinch.

"fuck-"

he reacts before you do, tossing the glass he's holding into the bin and taking your hand in his to help you remove the fragment.

"this might sting", he mutters. that was the last thing on your mind. did this man have no sense of personal space?

the fragment is tossed out with the rest of what used to be the bottle and you're about to reluctantly thank him for a second time until he's bringing your thumb up to his mouth.

"wh- what are you doing?"

he suckles gently on the cut, putting a stop to the bleeding, and you're rendered speechless. when he speaks, all you can think about is his lips.

"can't you be more careful?"

"not with you here, no", you say, finally admitting to the reality that was beginning to suffocate you. you can't pay attention to anything other than him.

"figured it out, have you?"

"figured what out...?", you ask, leaning in as his voice drops to a whisper.

"you have a crush on me."

you stare, perplexed, and you tear your eyes away from his mouth to look at him. there's a secret lingering in his facade. of words unspoken and confessions kept hidden. what does he know?

"prove it", you mumble, perfectly aware of how ridiculous a demand that was.

except he obliges, closing the gap between the both of you and meeting your lips with his own. they're soft and as you snake your hands around his neck, his cap comes loose, falling to join the mess on the floor.

neither of you care to address it and he pulls you back up, hugging you to his front and wrapping his arms around you. it's intoxicating. bitterness lingers on his tongue and there's the faint taste of cigarettes. but you're kissing him like someone starved. or perhaps someone parched.

sparks fly beneath your eyelids and rouge caresses your cheeks. (or was it the ghost of his palm against them?)

there's a need, an intensity to the way he grips you and the way clenches his jaw when you tug at his hair. you match him blow for blow, digging your nails into his shoulder and moaning softly into the kiss.

when you part and rest your forehead against his, you're not the only one who's out of breath.

"belphie", you whisper and the look on his face is a mystery in itself – surprise and longing, haphazardly hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"thank god i brought another five bottles with me, huh?"

#yeah move along it's another belphie piece shut up #obey me au #obey me writing #obey me fluff #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x gn reader #my writing 🐇

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sweet-by-and-by · 4 years ago

Text

Baptized In Your Name - Arthur Morgan x Charlotte Balfour

summary: The rugged stranger who found her at her lowest turns back up on Charlotte Balfour’s doorstep, offering help as she navigates her new life in the remote wilderness. Determined as hell, she lets him teach her a thing or two about guns, and finds herself offering her own help in turn. But as questions of his past bubble to the surface, will she find the man she believes him to be, or will she learn of a darker side? word count: 3819 pairing: Arthur Morgan x Charlotte Balfour

AO3

The Northern air had always been healing. Arthur took a deep breath in, the fresh air from the Northern Kamasana River calming and crisp.

He had travelled across the Eastern Grizzlies after his ride with Rains Falls. He decided to take the long way back to camp, needing some time away after all his talk of ghosts. Away from Dutch, from John, from everyone who reminded him of everything he had lost.

The painful memories played in his mind as he rode through the mountains. He rode down into Roanoake Ridge, stopping as he approached the fork in the road at Doverhill. He chuckled at the memory of the mad scientist there, a frown settling across his face as he recalled another life lost. He wondered if he was cursed, if to meet him was to meet the angel of death itself.

It had been a few days since he found the widow of Willard’s Rest, Arthur thought to himself as he hesitated at the crossing of pathways. He eyed the road to his right, the one that would take him back to camp. His frown deepened at the thought of seeing Dutch just yet, and he spurred his horse Eastward.

It didn’t take long before he was turning off the main path towards Charlotte’s cabin. He savoured the beautiful scenery, idly watching a buck stand guard over his family as they sipped from the river’s edge.

He startled at the sound of gunfire, his attention drawing towards the sound. He reached for his holster, ice running through his veins as he realized the gunshots were coming from Willard’s Rest.

He dug his heels into his horse’s side, the loyal beast sensing his panic and darting off towards the cabin. Visions of robbers and bandits danced across his mind, fearing what he would see when he rounded the bend up towards the cabin.

He pulled his horse to a stop as he crossed through the gate, eyes scanning the homestead to assess the situation. His brows furrowed in confusion when he saw that Charlotte was alone, and he quickly holstered his weapon before she could take notice.

“Oh, it’s you!” she exclaimed as he swung out of the saddle. His worries drained away at the tone in her voice and the beaming smile she wore as she turned to greet him.

He took in the state of her, his confusion only deepening at the rifle in her hands. He tried to focus as she thanked him again for the rabbit, doing his best to keep his concern off of his face. He had only just met the woman, but he found himself worrying for her already.

He listened as she told him of her plan to shoot at some bottles, his heart lifting at the excitement in her eyes.

He offered his tips, his heart racing as he leaned in close to her. He shuffled slightly as he adjusted her stance, begging his hands to stay steady as he pointed down the barrel to guide her aim.

They worked together to improve her shooting, and by the end of their session Arthur was impressed. She may not be taking on Annie Oakley anytime soon, but he could see she took pride in her gained skills and her determination was infectious.

“Thank you for everything,” she smiled, her melodic voice drowning out his thoughts. “Would you join me for a meal? It’s the least I can do.”

Arthur nodded, not daring to speak as his chest tightened. His heart hammered at the invitation, hammering against his ribs. He followed her into the cabin and glanced around her home. The solid wood logs were familiar to him, but the decorative touches screamed of rich inhabitants. Arthur felt starkly out of place against the backdrop of luxury. He awkwardly took a seat in the ornate dining chair at Charlotte’s prompting.

He looked around and took in the rest of the cabin, and could practically hear Hosea scolding him for his gawking. Her home was full of beautiful items, the likes of which Arthur had never seen in a cabin in the woods.

He whipped his head around at the sound of the stew pot slamming down on the table, Charlotte’s hiss at the heat drawing his eyes to her. He smiled politely as she dished up his dinner, passing it to him with a “bon appetit”.

“Huh?” he slipped out before he could stop himself, and he quickly cursed his muddled response. Charlotte spoke of Aristotle with grace that would have Dutch draped at her feet, and here Arthur was sounding like some back country hick in Murfree territory.

“Please, enjoy,” she said, her eyes casting downwards in embarrassment. Arthur felt himself flush at the realization he thought it was cute, casting his own gaze down to a spoonful of stew. “And thank you again, for everything. I really am grateful.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” he dismissed, scraping his spoon against the porcelain bowl to keep himself busy.

“You’re a good man,” Charlotte said decidedly, turning away before she could see him react. He was taken aback by her conviction.

“Oh, you don’t really know me,” he murmured, his conscience heavy with the weight of misleading a poor widow. He thought of his deeds, of the list he could give her to prove his case.

“I know enough,” she retorted, busying herself around the kitchen.”There’s always more to find in ourselves, you helped me to see that.”

“My husband Cal was such an optimist,” she said fondly as she took her seat across the table from him, “I found that to be quite contagious. We were both born with the silver spoon...banquets, butlers, valets,” she trailed off.

“Sounds awful,” Arthur chuckled, a cough working its way through his chest. His ears rang and his vision wavered as he tried to suppress it. He blinked to clear his eyes, listening pointedly as Charlotte told him of her father and her fear of being crushed by the wilderness.

“Well, I reckon you’re gonna be just fine,” he coughed, struggling against his labouring breath.

“Are you alright?” Charlotte asked, her worry evident. His coughing worsened but he waved her off, rising to his feet.

“I’m fine,” he stammered, rising to his feet. The spell he was under broke, and he realized the risk he was putting her at by having come in for dinner. He rushed to get himself out the door, out of her home and away from her with his disease. The angel of death had forgotten his place, let himself enjoy Charlotte’s company and foolishly put her in danger.

“Thank you for this,” he struggled, staggering forward as the room spun around him. He forced himself to keep going, splatters of blood peppering his fist as he coughed even harder. “I think,” he wheezed, “it’s best if I just-”

And he was down on his knees.

He heard Charlotte rush towards him as he collapsed to the floor, trying to keep her back as his body shook. His lungs burned and his abdomen ached, rendering him helpless as he curled into himself.

“Stay right there,” he faintly heard, “it’s going to be okay.”

The melodic promise carried him away as darkness swallowed him.

He startled awake, another cough bringing him back to life. This one was less debilitating, just the usual tickle through his chest and throat.

He propped himself onto his elbows, looking around to register his surroundings. He forced himself to roll onto his side, pushing himself to a seat with a groan. He shook his head and ran his hand down his face, stopping to wipe blood from the corner of his mouth. He glanced around again and noticed a note at his bedside, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he leaned forward to reach for it.

“My Dear Arthur,” he read, blinking at the words before him. His face sunk as he recalled his letter from Mary just a few days before, the same greeting pulling at his heartstrings.

He smiled as he read the rest of the letter, fought through the confusion from the sleep-addled fog that still clouded his mind. He admired her penmanship, her decorative sprawl surely a result of her higher education.

He scowled at her words about the money in the jewelry box. He knew she had plenty, but his stomach turned at the idea she thought his visits were for some kind of payout. He tucked the letter away, reaching around the jewelry box for his hat. He stood, glaring at the box that stashed the bills as he pushed past the door and into the main room.

True to her letter, Charlotte was out hunting. He took another chance to gaze around the room, no memory of Hosea’s reprimanding stopping him this time. A fire roared in the great stone hearth, warming the cabin from the slight chill in the morning air. This far North the chill lingered late into Summer, and Arthur was grateful as a shiver crept down his spine.

Though he wasn’t sure the cold was to blame for that.

He looked at the fine furniture, wondering to himself how much they had brought from Chicago. He was sure it wasn’t purchased around here, though he supposed it could have been shipped up through Annesburg.

He looked at the pictures in their frames, photographs and paintings decorating the dark wooden walls. He was struck with a longing to stay, to hang his own photos alongside her relatives.

His heart ached as he continued to look around the cabin. He imagined a life here, of coffee brewed on cold mornings and conversation shared over breakfasts. The fancy furniture would take some getting used to, but he could easily see himself settling into it. Could even imagine the patter of small feet running across the floors, the chime of a child’s laugh bouncing off the walls.

He shook his head to clear that thought, the echo of ghosts rattling in his skull. He turned to the door, walking towards it as he left those images behind. There was no point in pining for something so intangible. All just hopelessly romantic dreams of a life he stopped deserving long ago.

He pushed the front door open and stepped out onto the porch. His eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sun, and he faintly wondered how long he’d been out for. A misty fog hung low in the air, the weather seeming to reflect his somber thoughts.

Arthur sighed and stepped down from the porch, greeting his horse from across the homestead. He strolled down the path at a leisurely pace, trying to savour the last few moments before mounting up and heading back to camp. He approached his steed with a pat on the neck, wiping away some dirt from their journey. Arthur noticed the horse’s trepidation to his touch, his own hair rising on the back of his neck. He was suddenly overwhelmed by an encroaching feeling of being watched.

He reached into his saddle compartment and pulled out his rifle, gripping it tightly as he checked the chamber. He looked for cover, but found nothing useful in sight.

“Well look who decided to make an appearance!” a voice cried out from the woods. Two men on horseback emerged from the thicket, guns already drawn and aimed.

Bounty hunters.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Arthur warned, “payday ain’t worth the risk you’re about to take.”

“I dunno,” the other one snickered, “they really seem to want you. I reckon we could get ‘em to ten thousand if we brought in that lovely lady of yours too, I bet she’s got all kinds of things to say.”

The first man hummed, his eyes darkening, “If we even hand her over,” he smirked devilishly.

Arthur growled, his fists clenching around the cool metal of the rifle. His lips cured up in a snarl as rage rushed through his veins. Before he could think, his barrel was pointed between the man’s eyes and a bullet ripped through the air. Arthur quickly dispatched the other one, whose bolt was still half-cocked in loading when his body slumped down the side of his horse.

Arthur heaved as his rage coursed through him, snorting furiously and spitting at his feet. He fought back another cough, not willing to let his victory be spoiled by another fit.

He watched as their horses took off, throwing their heads back and whinnying as they galloped away. He sighed and shook his head, slinging his rifle across his back as he went to get rid of the bodies.

He whistled for his horse, who met him dutifully as he hoisted the first bounty hunter up. He slung the body over the horse’s rear, the man’s arms and legs dangling morbidly as he hung from the beast. He reached down to lift the other hunter over his shoulder, and he whistled again for his horse to follow him.

They walked the bodies down to the water, stashing them behind a rocky coverhang at the base of the waterfall. He quickly washed the blood from his coat in the pool of the river, hoping it wouldn’t stain. He wasn’t sure how much laundry the girls were doing anymore, not that he would be in camp long enough to have it washed anyway. His stops there were getting shorter and shorter between Dutch’s errands, the state of the camp only adding to his souring temperament.

Once he was satisfied with his cleaning, deciding it wouldn't get much better than this, he walked back up the hill to Willard's Rest. He wanted to make sure there was no trace of the bounty hunters left, get their horses good and gone before Charlotte returned from hunting. He held back another cough, frustrated by the ache in his lungs. He had barely done any heavy lifting, nothing that would even have him breaking a sweat a few months ago, but now he could feel himself on the edge of exhaustion.

He passed under the wooden arch and paled when he spotted Charlotte standing on the front porch. She held a hat and a pistol in her hands, remnants he had missed from the bounty hunter’s corpse. He sighed and cast his gaze down to his feet, keeping his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat as he approached her.

She turned to look up at him, her confusion evident as he drew nearer. Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, but no words came.

"Mrs. Balfour," Arthur murmured, stopping when he reached the steps of the porch. He kept his head dipped, resting his hands on his gunbelt and waited for her to speak.

"Please, it’s Charlotte" she said, looking between him and the hat in her hand, "is everything alright? I found this by the gate, a-and there was blood in the dirt…"

Arthur said nothing, just refused to meet her gaze.

"Did something happen? Are you alright?" she asked, her tone more insistent. Arthur heard worry in her voice, foolishly hoping she was afraid for him, not of him.

"I'm fine," he muttered, "some...some men came lookin up here, tryin' to find somethin'."

"Oh my," she gasped, "did you chase them away? What on earth would they be looking for up here? Perhaps it was Cal's relatives, I wrote to them regarding his...incident."

Arthur almost smiled at the innocence in her eyes, but the weight of the situation kept him serious.

“No,” he drawled, shifting uncomfortably where he stood, “they-uh. They were lookin’ for me. Bounty hunters,” he admitted after a long pause.

He watched Charlotte’s expression shift as she realized what he was saying. He waited for the moment she kicked him off of her porch, shooed him away like the mangy dog he was.

“You’re a criminal,” Charlotte said simply. Her tone was dangerously even.

“I told you, you don’t really know me,” he warned, “I’m not a good man.”

He cringed as Charlotte unconsciously took a step away from him. The action cut through him, made his shame swell and his chest ache. He knew he deserved it and so much more..

The two of them stood there for a moment, tension hanging thick in the morning air. Arthur turned away, clenching his hands into fists at his side and hung his head as he walked away from the cabin. “You don’t want me,” he said forcibly. “I’ll leave. You won’t have to worry about seein’ me no more.”

“What kind of outlaw would just leave?” Charlotte called out, and Arthur froze at her words.

“What?” he gaped. He turned to face her, finally looking up.

“Should I expect to go in and find that you’ve robbed me blind?” she asked.

“No,” Arthur said slowly.

“And will you turn your gun on me and force me to lie with you?”

“No!” Arthur sputtered, appalled that she would even suggest it.

“Well, I’m not sure you’re quite the bad man you seem to think yourself,” she said, her face set with that same determination that he admired so much. She stepped down from the porch and walked slowly towards him. “In the city, everything is painted so black and white. But out here,” she gestured to the forest that surrounded them, “I see clearly now that there are so many shades of grey.”

She closed the last of the distance between them and reached out to rest her hand on his arm. He felt himself relax at her touch, noticing the sweet scent of her perfume that mingled with sweat from her hunt.

She placed her other hand under his chin, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. “You’re a good man,” she said, the steadiness of her voice and the fire in her eyes almost too convincing, “I can feel it in you.”

Arthur didn’t dare to move, barely dared to breathe. Worried that at any moment he would wake to see the waxed canvas of his tent and find that all of this was just some far-fetched dream. His eyes searched Charlotte’s, looking for some kind of trickery or deceit. All he could see was kindness, and he found himself leaning forward against his better judgment.

He startled when his lips pressed against hers, surprised by their softness. It had been some time, but he didn’t remember it feeling this easy in the past. Not even Mary, whose secret, stolen kisses always gave him such a rush.

He was shocked to feel Charlotte return his affections; kept waiting for her to push him away. Instead, she met him with a soft passion that entranced him, made him unable to stop himself from running his tongue along her bottom lip and deepening the kiss.

She opened to him willingly, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. Their tongues danced, the taste of coffee on her lips swirling around the cigarette smoke that lingered on his. Nothing else existed in that moment; not bounty hunters or wolves or even Dutch and his plans. Nothing mattered but the taste of her on his tongue, the soft fabric of her shirt beneath his fingertips.

She pulled away after what felt like eternity, leaning her forehead against his. He ducked his head to steal one more chaste kiss in case this was the last chance he had.

He drew back when he felt a teardrop against his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Charlotte’s brimming with tears, silently crying as she squeezed her lids tightly. Arthur reached up to cup her cheek, wiping away the falling teardrops gently with his thumb.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said lowly, his voice all whisky and honey, “I shouldn’t’a- I mean I-” he stammered, returning to his senses. He stepped back and pulled his hand away like it had been burned.

“No,” she choked, “it’s not that. I wanted it- I do want it. I just...,” she hesitated, hiding her face in her hands as more tears flowed, “it’s Cal.”

Arthur’s stomach dropped, a wave of guilt and shame washing over him at the reminder. Widow or not, Charlotte was a married woman. And here he was, stepping right over her husband’s grave to make his move.

His mouth tasted bitter, no longer of coffee and cigarette smoke or the underlying hint of her. He stepped back farther, putting even more distance between them.

Not knowing what to say, he stood aside as Charlotte cried. He forced himself not to reach out to comfort her. He didn’t trust himself not to take, not to hold her in his arms and will everything else to fade away again.

“I make a terrible widow,” she laughed humourlessly, “my husband is barely ten minutes into the grave and I’ve already fallen for the first handsome stranger that crosses my threshold,” she shook her head, her voice catching in her throat.

She smoothed her skirts and wiped away her tears, straightening herself to try and regain composure. She looked to the sky and smiled sadly.

“I think it’s best if I go,” Arthur said, adjusting his hat.

“I wish I could say that I didn’t agree,” Charlotte replied, “but just for now. I’d like to see you back soon, though perhaps without the bounty hunters next time.”

Arthur frowned as the guilt returned. Charlotte stepped forward to place a kiss on his cheek, resting her hand on the other side of his face to draw him in.

“I don’t care what you are,” she whispered against his skin.

“I ain’t got long,” he replied, his head swimming with thoughts of bounty posters and doctors and Pinkertons.

“Once a widow, always a widow,” she joked, “at least now I come with some experience on the matter.”

Arthur laughed, wondering how such a fine society lady could have such humour. Before he could think on it for too long, she was backing away to return to her porch.

“Goodbye, Arthur,” she said, “Arthur Whoever-You-Are.”

“Morgan,” he said, “but, uh, don’t go lookin’ it up. Please.”

She nodded in understanding. He took in the sight of her one last time, trying to memorize each detail of her for his journal. He stared as she reached for the door handle, opening the heavy wooden door and disappearing into the cabin.

Arthur sighed and whistled for his horse, swinging himself into the saddle as he prepared to ride away. He turned back to look at the cabin, his mind racing. He tried not to let himself hope, but he felt lighter than he had in years. So maybe, just for now, he could let himself believe that things would work out. That he could find something he needed at Willard’s Rest, and he could be something in return to the widow that lived there.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charlotte balfour #arthur morgan x charlotte balfour #arthur morgan/charlotte balfour #fanfic #fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #my goal was to make this read like a paperback novel with a shirtless werewolf on the front of it #so i hope you enjoy 😅#my fic

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

Text

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 5 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing, slight voyeurism

Word Count: 2734

@meanduck

Vincent hadn't meant to spy. He didn't know when everyone was coming back, or if any of them were currently even at the house. Sure, Lester had told him that the three of you were leaving town, but he'd been disconnected from his brothers the second you had arrived. He only wandered inside the house because he wanted to see if the three of you were even back yet, and he was surprised to hear muffled voices coming from his room.

In his surprise, he'd managed to step on one of the floorboards that always creaked. He winced to himself, even if he doubted that the pair of you heard it. He took a step forward, pushing a painting slightly aside and glancing through a hole in the wall that only he knew about.

There, inside his old room, was Lester and you. He couldn't make much out, but he could see his bed. He saw your suitcase and the box, and it didn't take long for him to piece together what was going on. She's staying in my room , he thought to himself. He knew he shouldn't have expected much else. Bo wouldn't give up his room, even if he slept in the basement under the auto-shop half the time. Lester wouldn't give up his room because, while he had a whole other place to stay, his stuff had filled it to the brim. So, it was either his room or their parents room, and Vincent knew it was an obvious choice.

He didn't stay long, and, in fact, left the second his younger brother eluded to knowing that he was there. He didn't really mind that you were taking his room, as he didn't see it as much of a loss. He spent most of his time in his workshop anyways, which did have a bed already in it. The only thing he hoped was that you didn't find the supplies he'd shoved under his bed.

***

You had woken up late, and the sun was high above the horizon by the time you peeled open your eyes. You rubbed your eyes, trying to clear them of any bleariness as you reached towards the bedside table for your watch. It was early afternoon, and you groaned. Your first impulsive thought was that you were going to have to fix your sleep schedule before school started, but you stopped that thought dead in your tracks. You weren't sure where you'd be teaching this year. You couldn't teach back at home, and you'd have to tell your new town that you could no longer accept the position. At least, until your ex was apprehended. You sighed, moving to press your face flat against the pillow.

You'd stayed up past midnight, planning and prepping for the next night. You knew that you probably didn't need to, that the boys might not have super high expectations for classes. It was more to distract you from any potential thoughts about your ex, to distract you from the creeping anxiety and potential nightmares. Thankfully, you'd fallen into a blissfully dreamless sleep, one void of images of your ex or your sister. You blamed the new town, maybe even the new room. It wasn't your own, and it didn't resemble anything close to where you'd lived. The complete change in scenery probably had something to do with it. You picked at the blankets, wondering if that had anything to do with it either. Your old set had been one that had been brought with you, from the house you'd shared with your ex and your childhood home turned into your sister's home. Perhaps the bad dreams had been clinging to your sheets, like ghosts. You played with the thought, wondering if Vincent had any bad dreams attached to sheets you were under.

You shook your head. You'd been thinking about the mysterious figure far too much. You knew it was just curiosity, but you couldn't wait to meet him if not to just expel the way your mind consistently went back to him. You got out of bed, grabbing a pair of socks to wear so your feet wouldn't freeze on the wooden floor. You looked outside the window, seeing that Lesters car was gone. You guessed that Bo would be down at the auto shop, and you didn't know if Vincent even really lived in the house. So, you guessed you'd have it completely to yourself.

You saw no reason to change, and you walked down to the first floor in just your sleep shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. You figured, worst case scenario, you'd end up having pizza for breakfast. If there was any left. You went straight to the kitchen, your footsteps silent as you approached, and you nearly jumped when you saw a figure at the sink. His back was turned to you, but you quickly guessed that this had to be Vincent.

He was as tall as Bo, if not a few inches taller. His hair was long and dark, and it looked almost as thought it had a few pieces of wax caught in it. He was wearing a sweater and overalls, despite the Louisiana weather. You couldn't imagine how he could withstand it, especially with working with hot wax all day. Eventually, you cleared your throat so you wouldn't sneak up on him.

You had leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, pressing your shoulder against it as you watched him jump. He dropped his bowl, and he was quick to turn to find the source of the noise. Like Bo had described, he was wearing a mask. You gave him a smile and a wave, knowing not to expect much of a response from him. At least, until you began to teach him some signs.

"Hi," You started, before giving him your name and walking closer. "You must be Vincent, right?" And you watched how he awkwardly swayed for a moment. He had turned so his hip was leaning against the counter, and, despite his size, he almost looked like a caged animal. Ready to run at the first sign of an opening. You walked until you were only a few steps in front of him, and you watched how he gave you a small nod. Your smile widened, and you held out your hand. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm excited for our first class tonight." You added, and you nearly thought he was going to leave you hanging.

After a long moment and a slightly too long of a silent pause, Vincent reached out to wrap his hand around your own. It was large and covered in wax in some spots, same as the front of his overalls. It seemed he'd just come from wherever he worked, and you supposed his hours were just as off as yours were. But, despite the spots of wax, his hands were warm and soft, and he only gave your hand a soft squeeze before he was dropping it. You tried to suppress your smile, as you guessed that Bo had been right. He really was shy, but you couldn't help but find it endearing.

"So, I'm guessing Bo and Lester went out?" You asked, and there was a shorter pause between his nod. You had moved, walked so you could stand a few steps besides him near the counter. So you felt less like you were trapping him against a wall. His gaze has followed you, and you could see a single blue eye peering out from the mask. Bo had been vague about the description of what lied underneath, but you also supposed that it was simply none of your business. Still, the way his eye stared at you, almost unblinking, realized how casually you were dressed for your first meeting. Subconsciously, you pulled up your shirt. "Do you guys happen to have anything to eat? Any coffee? I don't mean to ask for much, and I can always head to town…" You trailed off, watching as Vincent quickly sprung to action. He had to step closer, reach above you to open the cabinet and point towards the cereals on the lower shelf. He gestured to them, and you were able to guess his answer. Help yourself. And you watched as he turned his attention to a coffee maker. His movements were careful and deliberate, and as you looked around, you saw the kitchen was about as clean as you could expect it to be.

Vincent started a pot of coffee for you, simply because you were unfamiliar with their machine. You picked out a box of cereal, and Vincent was quick to show you where the bowls were. Despite showing you, he still reached to grab you one and then passed you a spoon. Thankfully, he didn't hover and let you pour your own cereal, and you gave him a smile and a quick thank you when he pulled out a carton of milk for you. He resumed his spot next to the coffee maker, hovering by it while you fixed your cereal. You could feel his stare glide over to you, but you kept your smile to yourself as you mixed the milk and the cereal before popping a spoonful into your mouth. It was, at least, breakfast related, so it was better than the alternative. Vincent tapped his fingers lightly against the counter as the coffee started, and you saw that his gaze flicked away from you the second you looked up at him. You did your best not to smile, and quickly had another spoonful of cereal to hide it. You saw that Vincent had pulled out two mugs, so you guessed that he was having one himself. When it was finished, he poured himself a cup and passed you the sugar. He let you fix your coffee how you liked it, and he placed the coffee pot back inside the maker to keep it warm. Once you were done, you helped him put everything back.

"So, I guess I'll see you tonight?" You asked, taking your bowl to the small table stuck just outside the kitchen. He gave you another nod, and you watched as he took his cup of coffee past the stairs. You figured his workshop was up there as you began to eat, idly thinking about what you were going to spend your time doing that day. Once you finished up, you washed both your bowl and your mug, setting them aside in the dish drainer, and went upstairs to change. It was still early afternoon, and you figured you could find Bo before you could find Lester. Luckily, your new room had a bathroom attached to it, so you didn't have to scour the place looking for a shower.

You grabbed your toiletry bag from your back-pack, and fiddled with the shower for a moment until the water was to your liking. You took a quick shower after locking the door behind you, scrubbing off a days worth of sweat and any of the paranoia that lingered from the day before. Once you were showered, your teeth were brushed, and you were changed, you went down to find Bo.

The walk was short and the sun was hot, the sky as clear as usual. You could already hear music playing from inside the shop, so you didn't figure Bo would be able to hear the bell of the door ring. You knocked against the open door to the garage, trying to catch Bo's attention from where he was ducked under your hood. He didn't look up, so you called,

"Bo!" And you startled him to the point where he knocked his head against the hood. You gasped, covering your mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry! You just didn't near me knock, so I-" You said, but he was taking off his cap to rub the back of his head and shouting,

"Fuck- Just turn down the music!" He cut you off with his words, and you were quick to whip around and turn it down. You heard him sigh and curse to himself, and you repeated a soft,

"I'm sorry." As you came back to the door of the garage. "I just- I just wanted to check-" But he was cutting you off again and saying,

"It's fine, it's fine. I just couldn't hear you. So, you're finally up, huh?" And you didn't know if the statement was supposed to have a bit of bite in it or if you were just imagining it. You supposed his annoyance was warranted, as he had just hit his head. Still, you bit your lip and quickly thumbed back towards the entrance.

"If you're busy, I can just- I can go explore. Walk around. Maybe pick some stuff up from the store if you need anything." But Bo was quick to say,

"No, no. I could actually use a hand here. Another set of eyes." He said, and you almost didn't note how quick he was to shut that idea down despite his previous annoyance at your arrival. Almost. You thought it was strange, and realized that this was the second time that your idea to explore the town had been shut down. Vincent's had been softer, but this one struck you.

But he was beckoning you forward, and you were stepping closer and into the garage anyways. You didn't know nearly as much as Bo did, and it seemed more like he was trying to test your knowledge more than anything. You ended up mostly passing him tools and holding a flashlight for him, and when you asked,

"So, any idea what's wrong with it?" Bo's reply made little sense to you.

"Could be your battery. Your spark plugs. Hell, might even be your engine. Basically, I'm surprised you made it this far with this thing." You simply nodded and tried not to grimace, and you thought you caught the edge of a smile on his face as he turned back towards the vehicle. The only thing you knew was that this was starting to sound expensive, and like it was going to take awhile. After an hour, you asked him,

"Do you mind if I use your phone again? I just wanna let my local sheriff know about what happened." And Bo seemed to hesitate for a moment before he said,

"You gonna faint again?" And you gave him a soft laugh and a shake of your head. "Alright. But remember, it's probably best not to tell anyone where you are." He said, and you gave him a dutiful nod. You pulled yourself off the stool you'd been sitting on, and went to grab his phone. You dialed the home phone number of your local sheriff, and, after telling him everything, he agreed with Bo.

"He's probably right. We don't know how he found you, but stay where you are and don't tell anyone, alright? We'll find him, don't worry." After a moment of hesitation, he asked, "You sure who you're staying with are good people?" And you were quick to say,

"Yeah, I'm sure. They've been real nice to me." You told him, and it seemed as if the sheriff had something else he wanted to say, but decided against it.

"Alright, darlin'. Stay put and stay safe, y'hear? Call back at the end of the week for an update." And you agreed before wishing him goodbye. When you plopped yourself back onto the stool Bo had pulled aside for you, he turned to give you a grin before nodding back at the flashlight. You said a quick, "Oh," And went back to shining it where Bo needed you to. You'd been there for a couple of hours when Lester came by, and you quickly found that that's what the pair of you had been waiting for.

The three of you went back up to the house, ready to start your first lesson. You went upstairs to grab your folder for the first class, finding that Bo had disappeared into one of the rooms. When he returned, he wasn't alone. You set up at the table besides the kitchen, and Bo and Lester took the seats across from you. Leaving Vincent to take the seat besides you. He seemed hesitant, but sat down nonetheless. Finally, you opened your folder to begin.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair

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goodvibesprompttime · 3 years ago

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New Message (BPVA)1

- X, does your officers have phone numbers?

- They do, why?

- I’d like to message them

- Oh, what’s up?

- Nothing big, goat’s honor. It’s been, like, a week, and I want to take them out for coffee.

- Doc...

- Don’t worry, X, it’s just precaution. Plus, Scar needs extra hands with the shop. Lots of moving required.

- Alright, alright, just go easy on them That’s an order.

- Ooooh, I’m scared.... but yeah, I will

- Report back

- Will do

The message startled Ren. There were ten thousand thoughts running through his head, even more as he was heading to the address provided. Dress casual, the doctor said, preferably a sweater or something equally soft. Ren’s only sweaters were ugly Christmas sweaters and dumb joke sweaters from Cub. There wasn’t anything wrong with either, but it was still November - November 30th, but still November - and the joke sweaters had cats on them. Scar liked cats. Ren did not.

So, the werewolf dressed in a light pink hoodie of his, accompanied by some jeans, and winter boots specially made to fit his wolfish feet. During the first snowfall, Ren liked to be a little fluffier, at the downfall of having his wolf feet. Ren, unfortunately, left behind his scarf, thinking that it wouldn’t snow.

He was entirely wrong.

Snow started falling down around Blackstone Ave, and came down harshly just as Ren entered the shopping district at ten am. The werewolf pushed against the howling wind, entering the antique shop exhausted. He collapsed into the wooden bench, hiding his mouth and nose into his hoodie.

“Cocoa?” A mug was presented to him, and Ren gladly accepted.

“Thank you.” He took a sip, glancing up. He met the gentle green-colored eyes of Scar, which were accompanied by an equally gentle smile.

“Oh, of course.” Scar wheeled his wheelchair back, giving Ren his space. The werewolf’s ears flattened. “Don’t worry about me. My legs are still out of commission, is all. Doctor just said to rest and heal.”

Ren nodded. “He sent me here, actually.”

“I know,” Scar motioned his hand toward a door behind the counter. “Your friend, Cub, I believe, is bringing in boxes for me.”

“Already?-” Ren was surprised. Cub usually waited for him before beginning work. “Um, what do you want me to do?”

Scar shook his head, beginning to wheel away. “You finish that cocoa and get warm. I’ll give you a task in a moment.”

Ren watched him disappear from view, then continued sipping his cocoa and taking in the scenery.

The antique shop was full of little nick-knacks and odd objects. There was an entire shelf dedicated to toys; dolls restored to their former glory, but the silver scars gracing their skin indicating their recovery, a box of wooden blocks painted to perfection, an old sticks and hoop kit that was museum ready, and several music boxes shined and polished beautifully. There were entire boxes of china, strange teapots, and spoons on another shelf, right next to terrarium bottles full of fake flowers and fauna. Besides that was recently dusted books, comics, graphic novels, and manga. There were shelves dedicated to candles, blankets, clothes, all organized accordingly. Ren stared at the posters hung up on the walls. There were old maps, star charts, some Wiccan inspired posters. Ren was baffled by how... alive the antique shop felt.

The werewolf set down his now empty mug and approached the counter. He stared at the jewelry and more expensive nick-knacks. He wondered how many of these rings were once proposals for a couple now deceased, lost to time. He wondered, hopelessly, if all marriages ended up like that.

A deserted ring.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

Ren jumped. “Ah, jeez, sorry, it was just really pretty-”

Scar chuckled, going behind the counter and taking the ring out. “Faux silver outer coating with an interior made from a melted bar of iron that, itself, was made from the blood of generations. The wolf metal on top actually opens, and the little container is where people often hid poisons.”

“You... you know all of that just by looking at it?” Ren was impressed, albeit a little startled.

“I have everything written down, but, I really like the history behind this ring.” Scar smiled, setting the ring on the counter. “It was very advanced for the time period it was created in, 1900s to be exact, and the family, unfortunately, all died out in 1933.”

“How did you get a hold of it, then?” Ren made sure to ask for permission before picking up the ring. It wasn’t too heavy, and it fit his ring finger perfectly.

Scar hummed. “Grian.”

“Really?”

“Our little birdie has an affinity for shiny things. And giving me shiny things, apparently.” Scar shook his head. “Gave me a diamond for helping build a nest.”

“He actually builds nests?!” Ren was desperately holding back laughter.

Scar nodded. “They’re very cozy for a rainy day afternoon. But, anyways, most of my jewelry is from Grian.”

“That’s cool,” Ren fiddled with the ring. “This is also pretty cool.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah,”

“Would you like it?”

“I couldn’t just take it-” Ren paused. “Wait, no, I’ve been in this trap before. Seriously, I can’t just take it.”

Scar chuckled. “Oh, alright.”

Ren quickly took the ring off and set it down. Scar placed it back in its encasing.

“What do you need me to do?” Ren asked.

Scar motioned toward the back door. “Cub should be bringing in the last of the boxes. Some are empty, some are full. Separate them, and put away the nick-knacks in the full boxes, and leave the empty boxes to myself and Cub. Easy?”

“Yessir!” Ren was a little... excited? He never worked in an antique shop before. It was, so far, much different than working in the office or out on patrol. It was calmer, much nicer than having to deal with a bank robbery or a hostage situation. If the werewolf wasn’t dependent on his salary, and Scar was hiring, he would rather work in the antique shop.

“Last of the boxes, Scar,” Cub carried in a few boxes, ones that appeared to be empty, and set them on the counter. “Hi Ren, welcome to the party.”

Scar clapped. “Wonderful, wonderful. You two get to work, I’ll be right back, alright?”

Scar left, and it was just the two to work. Cub brought in the boxes, Ren sorted them. With the full boxes, Ren organized the nick-knacks as best he could. There were several things where he couldn’t tell if they were toys or decorations. Guessing usually worked, and he figured Scar would correct him anyways. On the meanwhile, Cub was taking nick-knacks off the shelves and setting them in the boxes, alongside packing peanuts, following the order of, well, the order forms he referenced.

With the both of them working, their tasks were complete within two hours. When Cub was done with packing, he helped Ren put away the remaining nick-knacks, and when that was done, Ren helped Cub with stamps and shipping info. Scar was certainly pleased when he returned.

“Where did you head off to?” Cub asked, playfully.

Scar held up his hands defensively. “Alright, alright, you caught me~ I just had to do some work in the kitchen.”

“Kitchen?” Ren tilted his head.

“Mhm, it’s right in the other room. Has a wonderful kettle, it’s easier to make lunch here than go out.” Scar motioned for the two to follow, which they did. “Plus, the oven is perfect for making desserts.”

“You didn’t.” Ren wanted to laugh.

“I hope you two don’t mind some lunch and cookies, as a thank you,” Scar went to the fridge. “Lemonade?”

“You’re too nice, Mr. Goodtimes.” Cub said, gladly accepting.

Scar shook his head. “Shush now, it’s lunch time.”

Who was going to complain?

Ren and Cub certainly wouldn’t. They happily ate, entertained by whatever story Scar decided to tell. Jellie decided to put in her two cents sometimes, especially when she climbed down from her spot on the fridge and into Scar’s lap.

“How is the coffee?” Scar asked.

Ren and Cub looked confused.

“Oh, pardon me,” Scar said, shaking his head. “Coffee is, well, Doc’s code word for... interview? Character test? Test of character? He’s seeing if you two are acceptable and trustworthy.”

‘By... putting us with you?” Cub pursed his lips. “Weird.”

“I assume I’m the first person then.” Scar nodded, moreso to himself. “Usually he does Impulse first.”

“Are we going to be doing stuff for all of you?” Ren asked.

Scar nodded once more. “That’s how coffees work with Doc, seeing how you’ll interact with us, see if you can keep up appearances and such. Technically, I’m not suppose to be telling you, but I assumed I was last-”

Cub slouched in his chair. “I want answeeeeeeeeeers. I’m so in the dark about so much.”

Scar chuckled. “In due time, I’m sure everything will be explained.”

“We can only hope..” Ren mumbled.

Scar clapped. “Come now, clean up, the antiques need dusting and I can’t reach the high shelves at the moment.”

“On it-” Cub near ran out of the kitchen, avoiding cleaning up.

Ren huffed and took care of Cub’s dishes for him.

“Also, Ren, my offer still stands.”

“Hmm?”

“The ring, silly wolf.”

“It’s too... too something.”

Scar smiled. “But I insist. And can you deny this smile?”

“I’d end up giving it to Doc or something.” Ren followed Scar out of the kitchen.

“Careful, he’ll think you’re proposing,” Scar joked.

“Not a bad husband to have.” Ren laughed. “And I love goats anyways.”

Scar giggled. “Some little baby stepgoats.”

“It’d be funny.”

“Yeah, heh...” Scar pointed to a already-dusting Cub. “I can get the lower shelves, but please whip down everything with a rag and cleaning solution. It should be in the back. Take your time, I’ll order you food if it gets late.”

“Goodness, sir, I can only take so much kindness.”

“Prepare for much more!” Scar smiled, being sure to slip that ring into Ren’s pocket when the werewolf went to get the solution.

He had a feeling, perhaps a vexing prophecy, that it would bring good luck Ren’s way.

#boatem pole vigilante au #new message is mostly gonna be filler and expanding character relationships #yee

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

Relighting A Flame // Part Two

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After meeting with Ron, things change between you.

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving and guilt, break ups, brief anxiety, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This is the second and final part, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my lovely Soph @loony-loopy-lupinn for helping me out with this one 🧡

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker!)

It was a perfectly sunny Thursday afternoon, almost too perfect in comparison to the way you felt in the current moment. The nerves bubbled away in your stomach as you approach Rosa Lee Teabag, and you were strongly considering turning in the other direction and high-tailing it out of there. But you didn’t, you took a deep breath and you carried on forward through the busy and winding walkway.

The little bell over the small door had rung out when you entered the little shop, and you almost winced at the attention it pulled to you. More specifically the redhead who’s eyes were now on you as a blush stains your cheeks.

“Hey,” you greet with a soft smile when you approach, spotting a steaming cup of tea already waiting at your seat. The familiar scent of lemon was immediate and so was the widening of your smile at the simple gesture. “You remembered?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks stain a rosy crimson. “I did.”

You nod as you take a seat across from him, a quiet settling over you both in the crowded little cafe. It was terribly awkward and you hated it, you wanted desperately for things to go back to how they were.

“Thank—”

“I just—”

You spoke at the same time, cheeks reddening deeper as you laugh softly, gesturing for him to go on. He chuckles, taking a deep breath as if to gather himself for what he’d wanted to say. Though he’s not quite sure which to say, he’s got a million things on his mind.

“I’ve never been in here before, have you?” He asks, taking a sip of his tea.

He was skirting around what he’d really wanted to say, that much was obvious. You knew Ron Weasley well enough to know when he was avoiding something, but you let it go for the time being in favor of answering his question.

“I’ve been in here a handful of times. It’s a nice little place, especially on a rainy day. Though I have to say, I do like Madam Puddifoot a bit more,” you say, your smile returning.

“Harry said that place is horrid on Valentine’s Day, he’s quite insistent on that,” he says, meeting your gaze and matching your grin.

You laugh softly, nodding at his words as you look away for a moment. “Her choice in decorations may be a bit over the top—well they definitely are, but she can make a remarkable cup of tea. And her desserts are really good too. You’d like it.”

He nods, picking at the napkin as he fights to think of something to say next, anything to avoid the obvious that was waiting to be spoken about. But the lack of conversation was becoming increasingly apparent, and he can only busy himself by looking around the small shop for so long without looking like a fool.

When the laughter and light conversation had died down between you both, you resorted to stirring your spoon around in your drink. You tried to ignore the fact that your heart was still beating wildly, and tried focusing more on your intricate little teacup and it’s matching saucer. At the impossibly delicate and hand-painted flowers adoring it. It felt as though you were on a first date, though the more you thought about it, you were quite sure not even that could match this very moment.

“Y/n,” he started, much less humor in his voice. You look up, his smile having long since faded by now. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow slightly, wordlessly telling him to continue on.

“For pushing you away, I mean,” he says, looking down at his cooling drink as the very tips of his ears burn redder than the hair that covered them. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. You were only trying to be there for me and I shut you out.”

You slumped a bit in your seat, your expression softening as you looked at him. When you opened your mouth to speak he held up his hand, a silent gesture to tell you he wasn’t quite finished.

“Losing Fred, losing my home, I—I mean…I don’t know. I almost lost you in that bloody war. It was too much to deal with everything all at once...not that I had to deal with you, that’s not what I meant,” He stammers, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I know what you mean, Ron,” you say with a soft smile, reassuring him only slightly. “It’s okay.”

He could tell by your faltering smile that it absolutely was not okay, that you were hurting regardless of his reasons. You were just about as discreet with your emotions as he was, and the pang that struck his heart hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.

You weren’t angry with him, his reasons were perfectly valid. But missing your best friend for six years, someone you deemed to be the love of your life, was one of the hardest things you could have been through. It was quite like how you missed him when he’d begun to date Lavender Brown; you couldn’t bear to be around him, for you were far too hurt and too in love to subject yourself to witness their affections. You couldn’t blame her, she was a girl love, but the very way you missed your best friend had left you miserable. So, it was a similar feeling but different all the same.

“Bloody hell, this was way easier in my head,” he chuckles humorlessly, looking out the window. Anything was easier to look at than the look on your face, he felt he might crumble if he looked at your frown a moment longer. “I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t love you, or that I didn’t care. Because I did, I still do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You nod even though he didn’t see it and you watch the way his jaw tenses, his gaze bouncing around the scenery just outside the window as he tears another piece off his napkin. The silence was thick and all-consuming, not even the conversations and clinking of dishes and silverware around you could help it. You fumbled with a packet of sugar pinch between your fingers, a million different words sitting on the very tip of your tongue.

“I’m sorry too, you know,” you manage, swallowing thickly as his gaze returns to you in a narrowed stare while yours remains on your hands for a minute longer.

“Y/n, don’t.”

“I left, Ron. I...I feel just as guilty as you.”

You look in his eyes again, biting the inside of your cheek in a valiant attempt to keep your tears at bay. You wouldn’t go into specifics on just why you had eventually left, it wouldn’t be fair to him. It’d only make him feel worse when it had been your choice to do so in the first place. You could have stayed, he wouldn’t have isolated himself forever. But it’d hurt too much and that was something you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“If I hadn’t been so distant you wouldn’t have needed to. It really is my fault,” he said, and you could see he’d started to get worked up.

“Ron.”

You offer him a pleading look in hopes he’d calm down, for any more anger towards oneself was not necessary for either of you. There had been enough of that in the past few years to last a lifetime. He settled down after a moment or two, a small yet sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he nods.

The following minutes were silent and almost the rest of the time spent there for that matter, and it was much less awkward though the tension was still very much there. But conversation had ceased nevertheless, and it was more so a quiet agreement to enjoy the other’s company even if neither of you would admit it. Company you found yourself needed more than you could have imagined. It certainly hadn’t gone how you had expected it to go, whether it be a good or bad kind of unexpected, you weren’t sure. But sitting there with him hadn’t felt as miserable or awkward as it may have looked from an outsiders viewpoint. It was a mutual feeling that maybe things would be okay after this, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

8 Months Later

Eight months had passed since you’d gotten that tea with Ron, and things had changed drastically since that day. There was plenty more that had gotten sorted through, and plenty more lengthier talks were had in order to clear things up and move forward. It hadn’t been remotely easy at first, but Ron Weasley wasn’t someone you could stay mad at, he never was. He may have been stubborn but he cared deeply for you, that much was certain. It had taken a good month or two for things to feel somewhat how they used to or at least as best as they could, but everything good happens in time, you suppose.

You’d spend more and more of your free time with each other, until any and all of that free time had been taken up. He’d given in to your suggestions of going to Madam Puddifoot’s, and he did in fact love her pastries just like you thought he would, even though he would never admit it. You were a month away from completing your training as a healer, and he’d graciously offered to help, though he’d helped more than intended with the handful of quidditch accidents he’d gotten himself into at home. Perhaps the most notable was the way you still missed him, the way he’d missed you. It was an adjustment being friends once more, but friends were better than strangers.

Currently, it was the long awaited spring holiday at Hogwarts for students and professors, one that delightfully coincided with your time off of work. Therefore, you’d bought up a handful of books from Flourish and Blotts, and accompanied Ron for a week at the Burrow.

The first time you had been at the family home wasn’t unlike every other visit you’d had, much to your surprise. Despite not having seen any of the Weasley’s for a considerable amount of time, it felt as if it’d been just yesterday that you’d seen them. They welcomed you with near suffocating hugs to make up for what surely would have been millions of embraces, and they had swept you away into about ten different conversations at once. It felt as though no time at all had passed, as if you hadn’t been separated from the welcoming family for just over half a decade.

It was a relief to your relentless nerves that they hadn’t held any animosity towards you for leaving. That very guilt had been weighing you down the moment you had made that decision. But you suppose it would be rather hard for the Weasley family to think ill of most anyone; they were wonderful, more love in their hearts than anything.

You had spent the better part of the warm spring day in a spot you and Ron had declared your own the very moment you had found it as teens. It was perfect. It was nestled within a clearing of trees and foliage, a small body of water settled in the very midst of it all. This time of year, the wildflowers were in full bloom to douse the area in its colorful floral beauty. Birds chirped and sang high up in the trees, the sun’s golden rays weaving in and out of old and twisting branches. The trees were perhaps your favorite part. They were older than you could imagine, covered in winding vines and moss that swirled up their trunks, their knotted roots perfect for nestling in with a good book. That is exactly how you’d been spending your afternoon.

It was a place that housed many fond memories amongst you and the Weasley family, and you were overjoyed to be able to take in its beauty again.

“Are you going to read all day?” Ron complains, mouth nearly full with a bite of his sandwich.

“You know, I just might now that you mention it,” you jest, laughing as you watch him let his head fall forward, his hair dangling out of his face and sticking every which way.

“It’s almost sunset and you’ve spoken what, three sentences to me? Three, Y/n,” he complains, huffing out a sigh as he narrows his eyes at you playfully.

You peer over the edge of your book to see the sky was in fact filling with orange and pink hues the more it’d dipped down into the horizon, effectively dissolving your argument against his words. You sigh softly, folding the corner of your page and tucking your book away.

“You’re a pain. Have I ever told you that?”

“Yes, Y/n, you have,” he says, his attempts to sound displeased quickly failing as a smile pulls at his lips.

“And rightfully so.”

You rest your head back against the tree, gazing up at the expanse above you. A flock of birds had been flying high overhead, the breeze blowing gently over your face. His scoff at your words was well heard beside you as you let your eyes fall closed, a soft laugh leaving your lips at the way he’d been acting. In your moment of bliss you’d missed quite a lot, his attention settling on you once more while he had the chance to do as such.

The hair tangling with his lashes and tickling his skin was of no importance in that very moment, nor was the fact that the very tree root he’d been leaning his hand on was poking into his palm rather uncomfortably. You were too enchanting to care about much else. You always had a way of stealing his attention yet still being so blissfully unaware of it. Perhaps that was for the better that you weren’t privy to his admiring, perhaps sometimes he found himself wishing you weren’t.

He wanted to reach out and brush the stubborn strands of hair out of your face, tucking them away behind your ear. He’d done it countless times before. It was awfully hard for him to enjoy the beauteous world around him when he’s got you sitting before him, making even the most enamoring of sunsets pale in comparison to you.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you move to stand to your feet, and he just barely manages to tear his eyes from you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t felt him staring, you could always feel it, you had caught him gawking plenty of times and each ended with incredulous scoffs and awkward laughs. Regardless, you chose not to say anything, the pink staining his cheeks enough of an indication.

You leave his side and walk to the waters edge, dipping your feet in as you hear him sigh behind you softly. You smile to yourself, laughing quietly at the thought of him.

“What are you doing?” He calls out, and you turn to face him, finding him squinting against the evening sun as he stood to his feet.

“Enjoying the water, not reading. What’s it look like?” You quip with a raised brow and a smirk.

The water wasn’t quite as enjoyable as it may have been in the summer season, it still had a brisk coldness that nipped at your skin too much to fully swim in it. Though that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun.

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, so much so that you had to turn away from him before it became much too evident that you had been up to something. Unfortunately for you, Ron was rather observant and had caught on to such things fairly quickly, but not quick enough.

You crouch down and stick your hand in the cool water, drawing up a considerable wave to splash him with. His mouth fell agape at the near icy shock of your antics, a laugh leaving your lips that soon turned to a squeal as you took a few steps back from him. The very same mischief had begun to dance in his eyes as he dipped both hands in the water, scooping out a much larger handful before sending it cascading over your skin.

“Ronald Weasley, that was way more than I did!” You shout, his laughter immediate at your reaction.

“Was not!”

Your frown hadn’t lasted very long as you bit back your smile. He looked away as he continued with his soft laughter, shaking his head. It wasn’t long before you too had found yourself staring, it was hard not to with the way water droplets had been falling from his hair and rolling down the bridge of his freckled nose. More so when those very droplets had dripped over the curves of his lips in a way that was almost too irresistible. You had to look away before you got yourself in trouble, instead focusing your attention on the way the stars had begun to twinkle just above you both.

It was perhaps your favorite time of day, for it was when the sky held the most color, and when the world had started to slow down. Any cloud that hung in the sky was pigmented with the prettiest oranges and pinks, and the fireflies were starting to make their reappearance with the warmer weather. The crickets began to chirp and the breeze had blown across the overgrown grass.

Unbeknownst to you, Ron had picked up where you left off, his eyes falling to you when yours return to the setting sun. You looked radiant to him, with the way your hair glimmered in the glowing orange hues, or the way your smile had been brighter and more enamoring than the very view before you both. He found himself admiring you as a friend that was too in love for his own good once more, the same way he did when he was a teenager. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted to be yours. He wanted to tell you he loved you because he’s never stopped, he didn’t want to blow it this time as he’d done once before.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You say. You pull your attention back to him after a few silent moments had passed without response.

“Yeah,” he smiles, and it was clear he’d been far too busy looking at you. “It is.”

You grin at him before shaking your head fondly, exhaling a laugh at his distracted words, unaware of the nerves fluttering around within him. He was always too caught up with you too pay attention to seemingly anything when you were around.

“Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?” Ron asks, swallowing thickly as he lets his hands fall to his sides.

You look up then, the look on his face filled with hope and the underlying regret of even speaking in the first place, fearing he may have messed things up by being too bold for his own good. The seconds had quickly felt like hours and he felt like he may just melt if his cheeks burned any redder. Regardless of his obvious inner turmoil, you find yourself smiling softly as you shake your head.

“No, I don’t think it is.”

He stood there, stunned as his eyes widen a fraction. He wasn’t entirely sure if he’d heard you correctly, or if he’d just conjured up the answer he so desperately craved to hear. The very thought was one he found himself playing in his mind ever since the day you had gone your separate ways, and now that it’s here he doesn’t quite know what to do. Doesn’t quite know how to handle himself around you; it’s as if it’s his first time ever seeing you, like a bout of new love came cascading over him and became all that he had known. Except it wasn’t new. It had been the same undying love he’d felt for you for the past nine years, and that was something that would never change.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You ask with a soft smile after a few short moments, effectively pulling him from his thoughts.

His mouth opened and closed, his heart pounding in his chest as a smile tugged at the very corners of his mouth. And with all of the certainty in the world he enveloped your hand in his own and closed any remaining space, his hand settling on your cheek as the tips of his fingers tangle in your hair.

It was a kiss to rival all others, even the very first kiss he’d ever shared with you. For he’d had six years to make up for, of thinking of this very moment, of missing you. He held you as close as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest as he began to smile.

You were just short of breathless when you part, not straying more than a few inches from his lips as a soft laugh escapes you. You look at him, at the love dancing in his eyes and drop of water that fell from the very tip of his nose, or the ones beaded on his flushed cheeks. It was only mere seconds before you found yourself kissing him again, and again, your laughter mingling with his as his lips brush over your own.

Six years had regrettably passed him by, years that equated to lifetimes without having you with him. Your hold on his heart never faltered in that time, however, not even a little bit. The truth is, you’ve entwined yourself around his very heart and soul.

Those three words didn’t need to be spoken, they were already known. And there wasn’t a single risk he’d take of losing you once more.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @theweasleysredhair

#ron weasley #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #ron weasley fic #ron weasly imagine

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fruit-teeth · 3 years ago

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Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 26)

When Olivia looked into the metallic surface of the coffee pot, she remembered something she had buried years before: at three years old, her father brought a malfunctioning robot into his office.

Little Olivia, still sucking her thumb at the time, looked the slender robot up and down. She couldn't recall her thought process, but the prospect of sitting on the robot's shoulders piqued her interest. She rose up and slid across its lap without thinking, grasping for the shoulder to help herself up.

Right at that moment, the robot sparked, glitched, and grabbed her by the arm with no warning. Olivia shrieked in terror as it loomed over her, weapon in hand, preparing to strike.

Her father appeared out of nowhere, and all she could do was watch as he sank a screwdriver into the robot's cranium, thus stopping it in its tracks. It made a popping noise and sparked again, before crumpling to the floor.

“Why would you do that!?” Gray snapped at his three-year-old, yanking her to her feet. “I’ve told you never to touch my robots when I’m not around!”

Olivia only bawled, unable to form words as she rubbed her teary eyes, her body still shaking with fright. Gray pursed his lips together. “Oh, stop crying,” he sighed. “You’re all right, Olivia…”

When she continued to cry, he laid the screwdriver down and scooped her into his arms, hugging her close. She still remembered the smell of his cologne as he held her, mixed with the faint scent of metal. Even as the years would go by, she would never, ever forget that smell, or the comfort her father’s presence gave her.

That had been three years ago. Olivia moved her gaze away from the rusted coffee pot in Sniper's van kitchenette and back to the window.

“They’ve been taking too long,” she spoke up. “We need to go look for them!”

Zhanna looked up from her spot at the table, brow furrowing. “What? Olivia, they will come spoon. I say what I say before, do not worry.”

Olivia frowned, climbing up onto the seat beside Zhanna. “But what if something happened? We need to go help if…”

Zhanna shushed her, smoothing the girl’s hair back. “Misha is with them. So is Jane. My brother and husband are strong. No reason to be scared.”

“I guess…” Olivia hugged her knees. “I feel small again…”

“I am sorry,” Zhanna sighed, giving Olivia a little half-hug.

Lar-Nah then approached the table with a bag of chips in her hand. “What are these?” she asked Zhanna, showing her the bag.

Zhanna glanced at the bag. “Spicy cheese chips. From there,” she said, motioning to the gas station they were parked next to.

Lar-Nah opened the bag and stared into it for a few seconds, before reaching inside and pulling out a chip. She took a bite, chewed, before she coughed and spat the chip into the waste basket. “Oh, my god, that’s disgusting!” she wheezed and tried to compose herself, a look of horror on her face. “People eat these on purpose!? I hate this country!”

“You are wimp!” Zhanna scoffed at her, taking the bag and pulling a chip out to eat.

Olivia looked back out the window, just in time to see the headlights of Engie’s truck pull up. “They’re here!” she exclaimed, leaping from her seat and running right to the door.

Olivia stood in the parking lot while Engineer's truck and Miss Pauling’s car came to a halt. Everyone stepped out of either car, and within moments, Helen emerged. Her hair was down and soaking wet, and her makeup was smeared in the dim light of the gas station. Upon seeing her, Olivia was reminded of the night Helen had the water spilled on her.

“Look who we got back, Liv!” Scout greeted Olivia as he bounced out of the truck, stopping to ruffle her hair.

Olivia couldn’t help but giggle when Scout ruffled her hair, and she swung her hands at him. “Yeah!” she glanced back up, her eyes meeting Helen’s.

Engineer stepped out of the truck, pausing to talk to Helen. “Need anything else, ma’am?”

Helen just shook her head. “No, I’m quite all right.” She looked back to Olivia. “May I be alone with Olivia for a moment?”

“Sure, you don’t gotta ask,” Engineer assured. He took a moment to smile gently at Olivia. “I’m gonna stop at the station for some stuff, okay? Be right back.”

He followed Demoman and Heavy to the gas station, leaving Helen and Olivia in the parking lot alone. It was dark out by this point, and crickets could be heard chirping in the surrounding bushes.

For a moment, it seemed as though Helen wasn’t going to speak. Yet then, she knelt down carefully to Olivia’s level, maintaining eye contact with her.

“I just want to let you know…” Helen took a breath. “I’m – I’m deeply sorry for leaving you like that. I can understand how upsetting that must have been for you.”

Olivia stared down at her shoes on the pavement. The pavement looked damp, as if it had rained at some point, though she didn’t remember hearing any rain. “Yeah,” Olivia admitted. “I got sad. I cried.”

Helen nodded. “I see. I apologize…” she reached out to stroke Olivia’s hair, but stopped herself, pulling her hand back. “I want to make it very clear to you that you do not have to accept me as your mother. You do not have to forgive me, either. But…I will protect you always, for as long as I’ll live.”

“You promise?” Olivia asked, looking up into Helen’s eyes.

“Yes – I promise.” Helen affirmed. “I won’t put you into a stranger’s arms like I did before.”

Olivia did not quite know what she was referring to, but it didn’t matter. She was comforted by the fact that she'd been apologized to, yet she was still a bit sad. She gave Helen a nod before taking a step forward and resting her cheek against her shoulder.

Helen sat still for a moment, a little surprised, but she wrapped her arm around Olivia. They held each other in the darkness for a little more than a minute before Helen cleared her throat and stood. “W-well…we should get you back home, it’s getting awfully late for you.”

Olivia nodded in agreement. “Yeah…okay.”

Miss Pauling, Helen, Olivia, Spy, and Scout were the first to board Pauling's car, followed by Zhanna, Soldier, Demo, Sniper, and Lar-Nah in the camper van, and Heavy, Medic, Pyro, and Engineer in the truck. The plan was to return to the townhouse to relax and figure out what to do next, and everyone felt relieved for now.

Olivia sat in the back of Pauling’s car, tucked between Spy and Scout as they headed on their way home. She felt rather sleepy, now, and she yawned, her head coming to rest on Scout’s arm.

“Are you gettin’ tired, Liv?” Scout asked, ruffling her hair.

“I guess…” Olivia rubbed her eye. “But its not my bedtime…”

“You’ve had a lot of excitement today,” Spy replied, looking out the window and watching the scenery pass by. “We’ll get you straight to bed.”

In the passenger seat, Helen suddenly exclaimed, “The Australium!”

Miss Pauling looked up from the road ahead. “Huh?”

“I lost the briefcase in the water,” Helen groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Dear lord, how could I have—”

“I got it for you, ma’am,” Spy assured her from the backseat. “It washed up on shore while we were waiting for Dell to bring the truck. I put it in the trunk.”

Helen sighed with relief. “Thank you…you have no idea how much better that makes me feel…” she looked over her shoulder, seeing Olivia curled up next to Scout. She couldn’t help but smile a little. “You are very good with her, you know,”

“Oh,” Scout glanced up. “Thanks, I’m trying to be…she hasn’t tried to stab me again, so we’re good,” he laughed a little.

Olivia cracked her eyes open at that. “Oh…yeah. I forgot I did that.”

“Hey, its okay,” Scout patted her shoulder gently. “You wouldn’t do that again, though, right?”

Olivia pursed her lips in thought. “Um…hm…no, I wouldn’t try it again,”

Spy let out a snorting laugh, quite amused. “She had to think about it!”

Scout made a face and swatted at Spy. “Hey, c’mon, man! You know she wouldn’t do that, I’m her cool uncle! Or…whatever…” he clearly wasn’t angry, though, as he smiled a bit after he said it.

Olivia covered her mouth and snickered, curling her legs up in the seat. It seemed to her in that moment that everything would be okay.

And then it wasn’t.

The car suddenly screeched to a halt, and Miss Pauling grunted out, “Oh, god,”

When Olivia looked up, she saw a huge, unmarked white van right in the middle of the road, blocking both lanes. As she sat up taller to get a better look, she couldn’t see anyone inside.

Scout frowned. “Who the hell parks there? What are they, nuts?”

“There doesn’t appear to be anyone in it…” Spy observed. “Drive around on the grass, Miss Pauling,”

The walkie-talkie Pauling had on her dashboard came to life, with static and the voice of Engineer pouring through. “Everything okay up there?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Pauling answered, "Yeah, Engie, it's fine... There's an empty van blocking the road, but no one appears to be inside—"

Before she could finish her sentence, she could hear other cars revving in the distance, as well as motorcycles roaring and screeching. Within seconds, all three cars were surrounded by cars and motorcycles, their headlights almost blinding.

Olivia froze, and she could feel her heart drop immediately. Beside her, Spy tried to remain his composure, reaching for one of these guns. “Who are these people?”

Helen’s eyes scanned the surrounding people through the windows, and it was then she noticed letters painted on the front of one of the cars: SR. Security Republic.

Sage had found them.

Sure enough, there he was: stepping out of one of the cars and slowly approaching Pauling’s car. His eyes locked with Helen’s, and he grinned a wicked grin at her.

Helen’s eyes narrowed, and she knew what she had to do. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door. “Stay here. I’ll handle him.”

“But—” Pauling started to plead, but Helen had already closed the door.

Olivia moved towards the window to try and see what was going on, but Scout held onto her, keeping a protective, vice-like grip on her.

As Helen stepped out onto the grass, Sage met her in the middle. “Hello, my darling stepmother,” he greeted her with a voice like molasses. “It pays to have security cameras installed around town, doesn’t it?”

Helen clenched her jaw. “So, that’s how you’ve been tracking us down? You sell security cameras to people in this town just to use them for your own espionage?”

Sage shrugged. “It’s all business, Helen. Don’t act as though you have the high ground, we’ve all done the same thing…”

“Just…” Helen took a long breath. “I know who you’re after, Phoenix. I know Olivia was the target of those bounty hunters you sent after us.” She leaned in to look him dead in the eyes. “What is it you want with her?”

“I just want to talk,” Sage replied, almost sounding innocent. “I have some business ideas in mind, and I know how her father raised her. I think—”

Helen held up her hand to stop him. “Are you looking to get Mann Co.’s rights from her? Because you should know, she does not have them,”

“Who said that was what I was after?” Sage snorted. “Just tell your friends and her to come to my office, and we can forget this whole thing even happened.”

“Olivia will not be going anywhere with you.” Helen asserted, crossing her arms. “Call off this futile mission, Sage. Go back to your mansion, or I will not hesitate to rain hell upon you.”

Sage’s demeanor switched to one of pure rage, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Why can’t you just hand over Olivia, Helen? She’s the last daughter of the Manns, what do you care what happens to her?”

Helen said nothing, staring directly into Sage’s eyes. It was then, though, that it seemed to click for Sage, and his face fell.

“Is Olivia…” he began, trying to form words. “Is she…your daughter? Did you and Gray—”

“That will be all,” Helen raised her voice at him. “Call off your team and go home this instant.”

A look of pure rage formed on Sage’s face, and without warning, he pulled out a long knife and thrust it towards Helen’s stomach. Helen acted fast, covering her midsection with one arm and using the other one to grab his wrist. The knife nicked her, however, drawing blood across her forearm and causing her to yell.

From the car, Pauling saw this and cried out, “Helen! Oh, my god!” within seconds, she leapt out of the vehicle with a pistol and aimed at Sage’s head. Sage ducked out of the way, but it wasn’t enough, and the bullet shattered his shoulder within seconds.

The scream he made sounded like a wounded animal, and Pauling grabbed Helen, yanking her to the car. Once in the car, Pauling snatched up the walkie talkie and alerted those in the other cars, “Guys, we gotta get out of here! Follow my car and just drive as fast as possible!”

“What happened?” Olivia wanted to know, looking out of the window in a mix of fear, excitement, and confusion.

Helen pulled out a tissue from the glove compartment, pressing it to her wound as Pauling sped through the row of motorcycles and onto the grass. “We’re going to be all right, Olivia! Lay low and don’t let them see you!”

The van and truck followed suit, speeding off into the green countryside. A few of Sage’s guards swarmed him to tend to his gunshot wound, and Sage yelled out, “Well!? Go after them, idiots!”

Men on motorcycles and in cars soon sped after the group, engaging on a chase through the grass and thicket.

Olivia didn't realize what was going on at first: she could feel them speeding down the road, and when she looked out the window, the scenery passed by so quickly that it made her dizzy.

Out of nowhere, a masked person on a motorcycle caught up to them, a baton in their hand. They began to try and smash the window, but before they could get very far, Scout rolled the window down and punched the attacker directly in the face. They yelled, then tried to steady themselves to attack Scout, but Scout let out a string of expletives as he punched him again, this time hard enough to knock them off the motorcycle.

Within seconds, another rider zoomed up and began shooting directly at Scout. Spy acted quickly, yanking Scout back into the car and exchanging gunfire with the attacker. He managed to hit them, sending them flying backwards.

“God – thanks, man!” Scout panted, watching as Spy zipped back into the car and rolled the window up.

“There’s more coming up,” Spy informed the others, the gun still in his hand. “What should we do!?”

Miss Pauling gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. “I…I don’t know! There’s a lot of them, is it worth it to stop and fight them!?”

“Keep going!” Helen urged. “We have to try and lose them, all of you seem woefully underprepared for another fight!”

“Well, that’s ‘cause we were going to help you!” Scout barked, feeling a little offended. “

“I know!” Helen rasped, still wincing as she tended to her wound. The car rounded a sharp curve, jostling everyone inside, and Helen glanced back at Olivia. “Lay down! Olivia, lay low! I mean it!”

Olivia obeyed, laying flat on her stomach in the backseat, though she kept her head lifted to watch and get a sense of what was going on. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest – none of this felt real. They'd been ambushed by strange attackers twice in one day, but her mind kept returning to the same scene: being held helpless, the robot arm holding her down while the weapon glinted above her.

Her father wouldn’t be here now, though. What if the other adults were not as strong as him?

The car shook, and Olivia heard Miss Pauling scream. She looked up, alarmed, just in time to see a man leap onto the hood of the car and lower himself down to smash the window with a baton. He was successful, the glass showering the backseat of the car.

Spy whipped out his gun again and began shooting, but the man acted faster and grabbed Olivia by the arm. Olivia shrieked, only able to watch as Scout wrapped his arm around the man's throat and began to choke him. They only struggled for a few seconds in the backseat before Spy yanked them apart and jammed the gun into the man's throat. The man wrestled with him, though, gripping his wrist and tussling with him while trying to keep a grip on Olivia. He pried the gun away from Spy’s hand, letting out a triumphant laugh. Helen whipped off her high heel and began furiously attempting to stab the man with the sharp angle of the heel, causing him to turn the gun on her. She ducked out of the way as the bullet shattered a portion of the windshield and littered more glass throughout the vehicle.

For a brief moment, Olivia felt as though she wasn’t in her body, as if she’d stepped away just to observe what was happening from a different angle. In those few seconds, she thought back on what her father had said in that dream – how she had forgotten herself, how she had become passive and afraid…

Olivia returned to herself just as the attacker got Spy’s gun away from him and aimed it at his head.

In a split second, Olivia spotted the knife that had fallen out of Spy’s pocket, and she snatched it up. Before anyone noticed her, she struggled to reveal the blade before springing up and jamming it into the man’s eye.

He may have screamed – she thought she heard him scream. His blood ended up on her hands, there was so much more than she thought there would be. As she fell back into the seat, Scout flung the car door open, kicking the attacker out onto the pavement of the road as they sped into the oncoming town.

As the door slammed shut, Helen leapt out of her seat, rushing into the back to Olivia’s side and wiping the blood off her with a napkin.

“Did I kill him?” Olivia panted, eyes wide as she shook. She’d fought grown men before, but she had never drawn blood. She’d never done…whatever that just was.

“I have no idea,” Helen confessed, wiping Olivia’s hands down. “How do you feel?”

The adrenaline still flowed through Olivia’s body. “I don’t…I don’t know…” she confessed.

“You were very brave,” Helen released Olivia once she was clean. “Now, stay down. I mean it,” she gave her daughter’s hand a light squeeze, her other hand taking a moment to brush her cheek.

Olivia nodded, curling in on herself again, but this time there was a different feeling in her. Not a helplessness, but a hope.

Behind them, the truck and the van stayed close by, blocking off the Security cars and motorcycles the best they could. All of the sudden, something in Engie’s truck popped, and smoke began billowing out from under the hood.

“No, no, no, no!” Engineer cried out, exasperated. “Shit, it’s the motor! God, no, I had a feeling this would happen!”

“Can you fix it!?” Medic asked, looking out the window with anxious eyes as another Security car approached.

Engineer kept his foot on the accelerator, eyes locked on the road ahead. “I have a generator in the back, but I can’t hook it up while I’m driving – someone else needs to!”

Pyro waved their hand around, mumbling out an offer. Engineer glanced over at them, before nodding frantically. “Okay! You know how to do it? It’s in the bed of the truck, you just hook the blue wire to the red one! The whole thing’s already hooked up, just be careful!”

Nodding, Pyro climbed out of the back and out into the truck’s bed, steadying themself as they began to work on the generator. They were instantly noticed by another agent on a motorcycle, who zipped up to the truck and pulled out a gun. Pyro did not see this, however, as they were too busy with the instructions Engie had given them.

Heavy noticed the potential attacker through the rear-view mirror and smashed his hand through the window, grabbing the agent by the throat. The agent gagged in shock as Heavy lifted him right off his motorcycle, and within seconds, he tossed the man into the path of one of the oncoming cars.

As the affected car swerved off the road to deal with the unexpected hit, Heavy fell back into the truck, grunting and picking glass out of his fist. Medic sprang to help him right away, cleaning out his wounds.

“Gott, I love you,” Medic whispered, still in awe of what he witnessed Heavy do. Heavy just smiled, briefly, before glancing back out the window to watch for any more attacks.

Pyro then switched on the generator, slipping back into the truck and signaling to Engineer that they’d done it.

“Good work, Py!” Dell praised breathlessly. “Now let’s get the rest of these creeps off of us!”

Everyone tried their hardest to get away from their pursuers, but the chase was becoming increasingly difficult. The rural areas disappeared and very soon, the pursuit continued into the town.

Sniper’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “What now!?”

Miss Pauling grunted, laying down on the gas pedal. “Keep going, I guess! Try and throw them off our path!”

From inside the van, bottles rattled in the cabinets above as Sniper sped up faster to try and lose the attackers. Out of nowhere, a skinny form leapt from one of the cars, shattering the front window of the van and tackling Sniper.

Sniper let out a yell, the van swerving as he fought his assailant off. When he threw her to the floor of the van, he recognized her right away: it was Shell, one of the bounty hunters who ambushed the house before.

Shell struggled to her feet, pure rage in her eyes. “I knew I’d catch up to you bastards! For what you did to my team, I’m gonna fuck you up!” she lunged at Sniper, but he blocked the attack, grabbing her by the hair and smashing her face against the dashboard.

Demo dashed to the driver's seat door, and when he flung it open, he was met by Shell leaping back onto Sniper and attempting to claw his face.

Right away, Demo pulled the woman off, securing her arms behind her back. Shell twisted and snarled in rage, shouting at Sniper, “I know it was you! I know it was you who killed Grudge with the microwave!”

“What!?” Sniper exclaimed, startled to learn that she apparently knew what happened. Before he had time to ask questions, though, someone else had appeared at the doorway.

“You’re wrong!” Lar-voice Nah's drew Shell's attention, and when the two women locked eyes, Lar-Nah simply stated, "I did it, not him!"

Instantly, pure rage filled Shell’s face, and she twisted her foot around to kick Demo in the gut as hard as she could. He lost his grip on her with an audible 'oof' and couldn't regain it as she tackled Lar-Nah to the ground and began attacking her like a wild animal. Lar-Nah, on the other hand, managed to deflect her attack by slipping out from under her and sprinting back into the van's living area.

Shell gave chase, pulling a knife out of her pocket and catching up to Lar-Nah. Before anyone could react, Shell shoved her up against the wall and sunk the knife into her chest.

“Bitch!” Shell spat at her, pulling the knife out but holding it with the intention to stab again. “Any last requests!?”

Lar-Nah coughed, startled by the blood beginning to pool out from her chest. Still, she looked into Shell’s eyes and only glared. “Go to hell,” she spat through clenched teeth, her hand struggling to grip Shell’s wrist to keep the knife away.

Before Shell could make another stabbing attempt, Zhanna yanked her away from Lar-Nah. Shell tried to attack her as well, but Zhanna just knocked her in the head with her hand. The force was enough to cause a sickening crack, and Shell crumpled to the ground with a broken neck in seconds.

After checking to make sure Shell had indeed died, Zhanna rushed to Lar-Nah, helping her up but then noticing the blood. “Oh!” Zhanna exclaimed, panicked. “Stabbed!”

Demo took over driving, and Sniper came sprinting to the scene. “Mom! Oh, my god, oh, my god!” he examined her wound, wincing at how deep it looked. “Bloody hell—shit!”

Lar-Nah tried to catch her breath, wiping blood from her mouth though clearly getting weaker. “I’m fine…I’m fine…” she gurgled out another cough, pressing her eyes shut in pain.

“Is she dying!?” Soldier asked, rather blunt as he stared in alarm.

Zhanna looked her over. “No, did not stab her heart. But maybe she hit throat…I cannot tell,”

Sniper leapt up to his cabinets, pulling down a medkit he’d had stashed there. “Mom—hey, you’re gonna be okay! Okay?” he tried his best to reassure her, but it looked as though she’d fallen unconscious.

The car jolted and swerved, and more gunshots could be heard outside, but Sniper drowned it all out as he used the supplies Medic had packed in the kit to treat her wound. He silently prayed she would survive – even after everything, he couldn’t watch another parent die.

Once he’d bandaged her up, he tried to figure out what to do next. “We need Medic here! Can one of you flag him down or—”

All of the sudden, Lar-Nah coughed and gasped loudly, eyes flying open wide. Zhanna quickly assisted her in sitting up, patting her back and allowing her to resume normal breathing.

Sniper let out a breathless laugh of relief. “You’re alive! Oh, my god, I thought you were gone for good!”

Lar-Nah composed herself, swallowing and taking another long breath. “I’m alive,” she observed, sounding shocked by that fact. “I thought for sure I’d died for a minute! I saw…angels or something…”

Before kneeling to continue speaking with her, Sniper looked out the window to make sure no one else was trying to break in. “Yeah? You saw something?”

“Yes—I saw…” she thought hard for a few seconds, trying to make sense of it. “I saw a man and a woman—I didn't know them at all—but...they were very kind to me and told me to go back to keep you out of trouble,”

Sniper let this process, and when he realized who she’d met, he had to fight away the tears he felt welling up. “Yeah,” he sniffed, putting his hand on her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug. “Yeah, that sounds like something they’d say…”

The hug took Lar-Nah by surprise at first, but it soon clicked for her, and she slowly brought her arms up to hug him back. “I’ll listen to them,” she promised.

Sniper pulled away, wiping his eyes with his wrist. “Okay…thank you.” He smiled at her a little, but it was then that something shattered outside.

Soldier ran right to the window. “We’re in town, now! We’re going right for those stores!”

“What!?” Sniper leapt up, watching in horror as Demo drove the van right through the parking lot of the shopping plaza.

“Sorry!” Demo apologized from the driver’s seat. “I’m following the others, and that’s where they’re headed!”

Sure enough, the chase had continued into the shopping plaza. Several people were around at this point, watching the chase in terror as they scrambled to get away from the cars and motorcycles. The attention of pedestrians made Helen exceedingly uncomfortable.

“Get us out of this parking lot!” she shouted at Miss Pauling. “People are staring!”

“I’m trying!” Miss Pauling desperately jerked the wheel, looking for a way out. She spotted an area that led into a backroad, and she headed straight for it, searching for an escape.

However, she’d failed to realize that with the attention of pedestrians also came the attention of police.

Within seconds, police cars swarmed them. Someone yelled over a megaphone for everyone to step out of their vehicles as sirens blared overhead.

From the backseat, everything else felt like a blur to Olivia. There was yelling, and she watched as an officer tried to pull Scout from the car, while Spy desperately tried to pry him away, only to be apprehended as well.

She saw, for a brief moment, one of the security guards pull the sheriff aside and whisper something to him. Whatever he had said made the sheriff order his men to load the mercenaries into security vans rather than their own police cars. This included Olivia – someone carried her to one of the vans, handcuffed her, tossed her in the back and slammed the door.

Helen was beside her, though. Just as everything sank in and Olivia began to panic, Helen hushed her gently and pressed close to her.

“We're going to be fine,” she said quietly, resting her chin on the top of Olivia's head, unable to hold her due to her handcuffs. Helen was visibly unnerved, though – her body was trembling, yet whether it was fear or rage Olivia could not tell.

Olivia still felt afraid, but she pressed close to her mother, trying her best to calm down. She could vaguely see the shapes of the others being loaded into the vans through the dim windows, but she did not know for what reason.

All she could hope was that they would have the strength to escape when they could.

6 notes · View notes

samwrights · 5 years ago

Note

sammæ hello !! may i request sum fluffy hcs of what it's like living with boyf kuroo, iwa and suga please i eat that domestic shit up and i am STARVING😩😩😩

BABIE YESSSSSSS~ lemme feed ya; slight NSFW ahead!

Kuroo;

Living with Kuroo is the epitome of being with the boys™️

It’s not super tidy, not super cluttered either

But theres no pictures on the walls, bare couch, minimal dishes.

It’s time to domesticate.

Slowly but surely, you start bringing in little knickknacks around the apartment just to add a homey, personal feel.

Paintings and pictures of city landscapes, artist renditions of scenery from his favorite video games—things like that.

Blankets. Kuroo learned his favorite thing you brought to the apartment was a myriad of plush blankets for the couch.

There is one thing you’re hella proud of him for—he’s an amazing cook.

So in return for you spending the day trying to kind of make the apartment your guys’ space as a couple, rather than just his, he slaves away at a delicious meal.

Calls you over to taste test.

Oof, Kuroo with an apron that says kiss the cook while holding a spoon up for you to taste? Sign me up 🤤🤤

Speaking of food—Kuroo is ten million percent in charge of the grocery shopping.

You will buy junk food. He will kill you.

Nourish your body inside and out by drinking water and giving it good food!!

Occasionally he will splurge and buy a pint of vanilla ice cream.

But this comes with him making homemade rolled crepes for the two of you as a treat.

Have I mentioned that the kitchen is his domain?

Cause Kuroo can definitely bake too.

The only times he does is for your birthday though.

Always with a small cake that serves you both made with fresh fruit, complete by dolloping a glob of whipped cream on your nose.

Iwaizumi;

Have I mentioned that Iwaizumi is the perfect boyfriend?

He’s the perfect boyfriend. Husband. Let’s honor him properly.

While he totally believes in an equal share of housework, there are two things you absolutely do not do.

Taking out the garbage and mowing the lawn.

First one cause uhoh stinky, but the second.

I don’t need to tell you guys to imagine Iwa mowing the lawn with no shirt on while his arms are flexing. You’re already doing it.

Even though he’s sweaty and covered in stray grass clippings and even smells like rotten matcha, you strip him right at the back door. Fuck the neighbors, they like the show.

Commence screwing your husband the minute he walks through the threshold.

Then again in the shower.

N e ways, outside of potentially hopefully getting pregnant from this weekly ritual, there’s more to it.

After Iwa’s had his shower, you start cutting up some fruit for the two of you while he lets the dog run around the freshly cut yard and firing up the grill.

Totally feed him pieces of watermelon while he’s grilling.

If you aren’t feeding him, you’re playing fetch with the dog.

When Haji’s almost done with all the food, you start lighting the torches around the deck of your home while the sun goes down.

Every Sunday is a nice, quiet family picnic between the two of you while your dog sits at your feet.

Iwaizumi is the dog dad that feeds his pup expensive ass steak.

“He’s gotta eat as good as we do.” 🤷🏻‍♂️

He’s not wrong.

But also the dog eats better than you do.

Sugawara;

omfg living with momma Suga is a dream come true.

Second most perf boyf, IMO.

You guys are 100% the animal couple.

Even though you’re technically only allowed two pets—pffft.

Two cats, hamsters, gerbils, and a sugar glider.

The last one was a special gift you got for Suga for your three year anniversary.

Despite all the animals—the apartment is tidy.

Honestly I think he would have an aneurysm if it wasn’t.

Dishes are always washed directly after use.

Dusting every single Saturday.

No major clutter—a couple of knickknacks and trophies are the only exception.

Once a month, you guys have to Marie Kondo the apartment. There is no spring cleaning, only Suga cleaning.

But, especially after days like this, the two of you would take a long, hot relaxing bath together.

Thankfully your en-suite was suited for this with a massive tub that could fit two easily.

He already knows you’re sore.

As soon as the two of you settle in, with your back to his chest, he always massages the aching muscles in your neck and shoulder blades.

Until your head relaxes into his chest as well. Then his just holds you tighter to him.

It was days like this you wondered why the hell you haven’t married him yet.

Just you wait.

249 notes · View notes

euphoria-vmin7 · 4 years ago

Text

lucent | kth

pairing: artist! kim taehyung x reader

genre/warnings: FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, seriously some of the sappiest things i’ve ever written, taehyung is a sweetheart, oc is WAY too curious, established relationship, artist! taehyung, some tears but happy tears, they’re both just so in love with each other :(

word count: 3,446

summary: artistic as ever, taehyung’s gotten inspired and started up on another new project. except this time, he won’t let you see what he’s working on. and patience is not something you’re good at.

rating: pg

--a/n: and here’s my next submission for the BGW BINGO BASH!! this fills the “don’t touch that!” square. enjoy :)

REPOSTING THIS FOR THE 5TH TIME AND HOPING THAT IT WORKS :(

Lucent

lu·cent

adj. softly bright or radiant

Your bare toes felt cold as they pressed against the wooden floor, and you winced as the boards creaked in the silence of your apartment. Stepping out of the warmth of your bedroom’s covers and into the hall had goosebumps erupting over your flesh, and you hugged your cardigan closer to your body. You stopped to adjust the thermostat, increasing the temperature just a few more degrees to make up for the frosty snow that was covering the ground outside. Gushes of wind hit the glass of the windows, causing a shiver to run through you despite not feeling its chill. Eyeing the dim glow of light spilling into the hallway, you knew exactly where to go.

His back was partially to you, body hunched over his drawing pad with determination and a bit of weariness. Sketches were littered across the floor, many of them crumbled into balls that had just narrowly missed the trash can in the corner of the room. In front of him, a huge blank canvas was propped against his easel and his paints were tightly shut on the side. He hummed to himself quietly, his fingers working swiftly as his pencil replicated the images in his mind, so deeply consumed with his visions that he didn't even notice you there.

“Are you coming to bed?” you asked quietly, leaning against the doorframe to admire him. He didn’t jump or startle, instead looking up to see you and pausing his work. He flipped the sketch over quickly, but you were too tired to even attempt to notice. The smile he gave you, though tired, was filled with the radiance you knew only he had.

“In a bit,” he replied, soft eyes sparkling with the dim orange glow filling his studio.

You pushed off the edge of the door and approached him, slipping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Taehyung,” you sighed softly. “It’s so late,”

“I know, love,” he replied, picking up your fingers to press his lips to them. “I just wanna finish this sketch,”

“We both know that might take all night,” you mumbled, cheeks flushing at the affection even after so long. You didn’t want to admonish him, as his inspiration often struck at the most random of times, but you wanted him to get his sleep. Taehyung’s long fingers brushed over your exposed wrists where the sleeves of your cardigan had lifted and you shivered once more.

“Promise it won’t,” he answered, his voice a deep and dulcet tone that flowed like the sweetest honey. “I’m almost done,”

“I miss you,” you said quietly, pressing close to his cheek with a small pout that had him chuckling.

“I’ll be there,” he hummed, his thumb tracing over your palm slowly. The tips of his fingers were smudged with pencil lead, but you could care less.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him sweetly and he brushed his lips against your palm once more as you pulled away. “Don’t work too much,”

He hummed and flipped his sketch back over, almost immediately immersing himself into his creation once more. For a second you watched him work, his round glasses perched low on his nose, the sleeves of his brown turtleneck pulled up to the elbow, and the golden glow the light brought to his honey-kissed skin, before heading to bed, deciding that you had never seen a prettier sight.

Taehyung slid into bed after you had already fallen back asleep, his movements hushed. But you’ve always been a light sleeper, so in seconds he’s watching you turn to face him with droopy eyes.

“What are you working on?” you mumbled, closing your eyes and nuzzling into him.

“Just a project for class,” he answered, tugging his glasses off to place them on the nightstand behind him. “It’s pretty important,”

“Oh?” you smiled. “I’m sure it’ll turn out great. It always does,”

Taehyung chuckled. “Thank you, love. I hope you like it,”

You had never seen Taehyung more immersed in a project. Sure, with all of his projects he put in the utmost care and dedication into making them perfect. But this one, without a doubt, was the one he was most serious about. He’d come home after class and go straight into his studio, working for hours on end until you were too tired to wait any longer. And only once you were fast asleep would he slide into bed next to you with a sweet kiss to your head before the cycle repeated the next morning. You didn’t mind. You knew this routine would continue as Taehyung’s creativity continued to run at high speed. Seeing the satisfaction on his face once he finished was worth the wait.

You didn’t count on him being so secretive though. While he normally was pretty open with letting you see his artwork, he wouldn’t let you even catch a glimpse of this one. He had even turned the large canvas away from the door of the studio so you couldn’t casually glance at it as you passed by. And when he was done working on it he covered it with an old white tablecloth. Everytime you’d ask to see it he’d simply respond with a “Sure, I’ll show you later,”

Except later never came.

The day would end without a glimpse of the masterpiece Taehyung was surely hiding under the cloth, and your curiosity would only grow as they passed. It took a large amount of self-control to not just sneak into his studio and take a peek, but you managed to push through.

Now a few weeks later, you gripped Taehyung’s arm as you quietly hummed to yourself, eyes lazily drifting around the familiar coffee shop while waiting to order. It always had such a familiar coziness to it, filled with memories of you and Taehyung since the day you first met him. Thinking about how your relationship had developed over time spurred an innocent happiness within, a contentment with what he had given you all this time. What started out as an amiable friendship that later blossomed into such a pure, everlasting love brewed in this very coffee shop. In a way, it was as though the cups of espresso and spoons of sugar had bore witness to the rapid changes in your relationship, so that if you ever forgot, they would be there to remind you.

At the sound of his name, Taehyung flashed the cashier a smile as she placed two cups on the counter. He pulled out his wallet and handed her his card with a light flourish of his wrist before his eyes caught a trinket in the pocket. Glancing at the picture he had been looking at everyday for years, he grinned to himself and looked at you, watching as you hummed and took in the cafe with a simple smile. His heart swelled with sweet contentment just as it always did when you were around, and he brushed a thumb over the picture before closing his wallet and sliding it into his pocket. Taehyung thanked the cashier and handed you your cup, before taking your hand in his, quietly admiring the way they fit so snugly.

The cold frosty air of the winter morning brushed against your cheeks as you stepped out into the street. A steady stream of smoke billowed past your lips and the coffee you were holding was warm against your cooled skin, though Taehyung’s hand was much warmer. He began walking with you down the busy street, eyes moving over the sights of the city with admiration. You wondered what inspirations were bustling through his mind. Whether the scenery around him would look better in paint or pastels. Whether he should capture it with a brush or with a click of his camera. Taehyung was always so artistic, his mind a wonder that you longed to explore.

“You’re staring at me,”

You bit your lip to hide your smile, having been caught in this position far too many times to be embarrassed anymore. “You’re pretty,” was your simple reply.

“So are you,” he answered, a slight grin on his face as he continued with his eyes straight ahead. Despite hearing this many times, however, you flushed. Though all that you managed to let out was an unattractive snort.

“You’re prettier,” you stressed and Taehyung shrugged beside you.

“Can’t argue there,” he said casually and you threw your head head back to allow a laugh to escape.

“So…” you started, giving him a sidelong glance as you walked. “When are you gonna tell me what that huge thing in the studio is?”

“Oh that?” he asked, a neat brow raising as he looked at you.

“Yes that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “The huge painting or whatever it is that you’ve been obsessing over for the past few weeks. When can I see?”

“You can see later,” he sighed, lips quirking at the corner.

“You always say later,” you pouted, tugging his hand lightly. “And then you never show me,”

“Fine,” he chuckled. “You can see it when I’m done,”

“But-” you deflated, shoulders slumping. “That might take forever!”

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” he laughed, moving his hand to slip comfortably around your waist.

“Can’t help it,” you shrugged. “Your art is always amazing and I want to know what that mind of yours thought up this time,”

He had it in him to blush at your compliments. “Be patient, sweetheart. You’ll see soon,”

As it turned out, patience was not your strong suit. With everyday that passed, Taehyung would be practically glowing as he emerged from his studio, and the curiosity grew further. You wondered what this school project consisted of. What kind of masterpiece he had created that made him so happy.

The curiosity lingered in the back of your mind, but you had to put it aside as you bent over your textbook, fingers woven erratically through your hair as you tried to memorize the terms for your upcoming exams. Every single noise was teasing you as a means for distraction and you struggled to stay focused on the work you did not want to do. You didn’t even have Taehyung here to motivate you to stay on task. He had stepped out for a bit to head to his favorite art store a few blocks over - something about not having anymore of the perfect yellow paint.

Your eyes lazily drifted over the definition, knowing fully well that you had been reading the same sentence for the last six minutes, and you craved a reason to get distracted. You sighed wearily and pushed away your thoughts before sitting up straight and focusing.

As soon as your stomach grumbled, however, you shot up from your chair with a grin, fully intent on grabbing a snack. The responsible part of your subconscious was reprimanding you, but the more prominent lazy part stuck its tongue out in response. The apartment felt quiet without Taehyung, despite the fact that he had always been a man of few words. His presence was always noticeable and you missed it now that it was gone, even if it was for only a little while.

After grabbing a juice box and a pack of pretzels, your mood soured as you began walking down the hallway to your impending doom. Just knowing that you had to go sit and study made your pace falter. You feebly attempted to stall as you stopped to adjust a picture frame, but knew that it wasn’t going to do much good in the long run.

You were about to give up when you passed by Taehyung’s studio and the curiosity that you had pushed aside came rushing back. Without really noticing it, you found yourself wandering in, glancing at the flecks of paint that had splashed across the sheets Taehyung had placed on the floor. His smock was hanging on the corner of one of his easels and his paint brushes were dipped in cups of mud colored water.

You chewed on your lip nervously as your eyes raked over the tablecloth covering his most recent work. A part of you was telling you to forget about it but another part was so damn curious. Just a peek couldn’t hurt, right?

Your fingers twitched as you raised your hand to grasp the cloth, the material smooth between them. With a final huff, you pulled the sheet down just as the studio door slammed open and Taehyung yelled out a hurried

“Don’t touch that!”

But the words soared straight over your head as you gazed at the canvas in complete shock. You barely registered the tablecloth slipping from your fingers entirely, instead letting your wide eyes rake over the absolute masterpiece in front of you.

“Taehyung…” you breathed out, mouth agape in wonder. “What...What is this?”

The brunette didn’t answer, and your heart briefly dropped in fear that he would be angry at you for your actions. But then he was chuckling softly, his hand massaging his temple in an almost endearing manner. You reluctantly tore your eyes away from the canvas to look at him nervously, but he only smiled sweetly, taking a stand behind you to look over his own creation.

“What does it look like?” he grinned, his glasses sliding just a bit down the sharp slope of his nose. “It’s you,”

It was you. Sprawled across the canvas in strokes of paint that you knew belonged to Taehyung only, was you. He had painted you in a pose you had never seen before and the way he did it made you look so astonishingly beautiful, it had your throat swelling with emotion. The way he picturized you made you feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet, and you marveled at the talent that flowed through his veins and past his fingertips.

“But you-“ you started, struggling with your words. “This is absolutely beautiful, Taehyung! Where did you get the idea to paint me this way?”

His rectangular smile was radiant as he gazed at you, pulling out his wallet quickly.

“This,” he sighed, holding a small printed photo out in front of you. You took it with care, and smiled as you recognized the scene. You were seated in a field, wearing a bright yellow sundress and smiling as you pointed out something in the distance. It was an exact replica of what Taehyung had painted on the canvas in front of you.

“This is from when we went on that picnic in the fields behind Seokjin’s farmhouse,” you grinned, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t even know you took this picture,”

“Blame Jungkook for getting me into photography,” the brunette smiled. “At that moment I thought that I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my life. It was the moment I realized that I felt more love for you than a friend would,”

“Oh, Taehyung,” you sighed, beaming at him as your cheeks flushed.

“It was that moment that led to where we are now. After the picnic, I realized that I was so in love with you, I asked you out the very next day, remember?”

You nodded bashfully. “How could I forget?”

“It was one of the most important days of my life. So it seemed like the best thing to paint as a prelude to the next gift I’m about to give you,”

You breathed out an amused laugh. “Another gift? You’re spoiling me, Tae,”

He chuckled as he tucked the photo away and pushed his wallet back into the pocket of his pants.

“Well, I was actually going to wait to give you the gifts. I was gonna wait until this weekend when we went to Seokjin hyung’s farmhouse and give it to you in the field,”

“Aww,” you cooed, feeling slightly guilty for ruining his plans. “That’s so sweet,”

“But,” he gave you a pointed stare and you winced sheepishly. “Since someone was so curious, I guess now’s as good of a time as any,”

“Okay but I’m still trying to process this gift,” you grinned, eyes focusing on the painting once more. “It’s so beautiful Tae, I can't believe you made this for me-“

Your words died down in your throat as you glanced at Taehyung, his expression a mixture of nervousness and happiness.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his cheek in your hand. He pulled it away from his face and kissed your palm sweetly before gently gripping your fingers.

“I would’ve liked more time to practice this before the weekend but I’m just gonna wing it,” he chuckled, his cheeks a deep shade of pink. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“(Name), I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have met you all those years ago. I guess I should be thanking Jimin for that but since the day you first walked into my life, you’ve done nothing but make me happy. We became such good friends after getting to know each other and I realized that you were one of the few people who actually understood me. Who cared for me and wanted the best for me. And I don’t know when exactly I started falling in love with you but I guess I’ve always known that you're the only girl for me. Being with you has been like a dream that I never want to wake up from. I look at you and wonder what you could ever see in someone like me, how you could possibly love me as much as you do now. And sometimes I feel unworthy of you or scared that maybe you’d be better off without me. But you always tell me that you love me for who I am and just like that all my doubts are gone. I’m so lucky you gave a guy like me a chance because I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re my muse and my inspiration. Everyday you encourage me, motivate me, and care for me and I love you more than any words or paint or art could describe. You make me so so happy and I just can’t help but think about what it’d be like to spend the rest of our lives together,”

You watched with wide eyes as Taehyung’s hand emerged from his pocket holding a small black box. Your breathing picked up as he slowly lowered himself to a knee and smiled at you from the floor. Your heart was thudding against your ribcage and you feared that he just might be able to hear it. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears though he was donning a lucent smile that had your heart fluttering. “So (Name), my love, would you make me the happiest man on the planet and be my wife?”

And with that last question he opened the box to reveal the most beautiful ring. It wasn’t huge or garish, but an effortless jewel mirroring the sweet simplicity that was Taehyung. Your breath hitched as you clasped your hands over your lips, a sound between a laugh and a sob escaping your throat as tears spilled over your waterline. His words tugged on your heartstrings in all the right ways, and you took a minute to realize that this was real. That Taehyung was yours and you were his and he really loved you.

“Yes,” you let out a watery laugh as you nodded. “Yes of course I’ll marry you, Taehyung,”

He stood up quickly, the brightest smile on his face as he sniffled and you laughed fondly as he slipped the ring onto your finger before scooping you into his arms and kissing you sweetly. He laughs into his kisses and you can’t help but join him because god, you love him more than anything. His fingers traced the cool metal of the ring nestled perfectly around your finger before he interlaced them with a squeeze.

“I love you,” he mumbled, smiling as he pressed another sweet kiss to your lips. You sniffled as he moved his thumb to catch a stray tear against your cheek.

“I love you too,”

He buried his face into your neck and you could feel his smile on your skin, butterflies erupting in your gut for the millionth time. Over his shoulder, your eyes raked over the beauty he had captured in his brush strokes and your heart swelled as you thought about all the masterpieces you’d get to see for the rest of your life. Though the greatest one would always be him.

#btsghostiebingo #kim taehyung x reader #btswriterscollective #bangtanscenery #taehyung x reader #euphoria-vmin7 #taehyung fanfic #bts x reader #bts fanfiction

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tobi-momo · 4 years ago

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PROTECTOR {PART 2}

PART 2 of PROTECTOR

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1720

Warnings: cursing, descriptions of an injury- nothing major

Synopsis: You had a happy life. Completely and utterly perfect. Atleast that's how you acted. You may have had a hard childhood, but no one else needs to know that. You may be getting stalked by your insane ex-bestfriend, but it's okay. It'll all work itself out. Right?

YOUR EYES are ringing by the time you wake up on a couch, that is definitely not in your house. You slowly open your eyes to the sweet smell of caramel and laundry freshener. Why laundry freshener? The change of scenery has you confused, but so does the fact that you aren’t wearing your own clothes anymore. Well, your shirt anyway. You have a gray, oversized hoodie that is way too long for your arms. You weren’t small, but this sweatshirt definitely made it seem like you were. Who’s sweatshirt was this anyway? You grab the strings of the sweatshirt and rub them with your fingers, feeling the material in your hands. I guess you know where the laundry freshener came from.

You lift your chest in order to sit up before wincing in pain from the sharp sting coming from your tummy.

What was that?

You quickly lay back down to ease the pain, placing your hand on the hem of the hoodie, slowly lifting the bottom to look at the bandage covering what you know is the purple/black bruise on your torso, with patches of skin peeled off. You sigh in disappointment, but not surprise and try to sit up once again.

You knew what, who, it was, you’re just disappointed you didn’t see it sooner.

You ease yourself into it, wincing at the pain at the sting of your wound before you feel a firm hand against your shoulder, pushing you back down to the edge of the couch.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You inhale sharply through your teeth and whip your head up to look at Bakugou. Of course he was the one to save you. Why would it be someone else? If you knew this, then why were you still shocked as if you were taken by him?

“Eat this. I’m taking you home after.”

You paint a fake smile on and look as if you were untouched and good as new.

“Oh, It’s okay, I can get home by myself, thank you for taking care of me though!”

He knows you’re faking, but it sure looked convincing. This had to take practice. How long have you been faking for?

He tilts his head in a sort of confusion, and barely furrows eyebrows before deadpanning again.

“Why are you smiling? You’re obviously hurt. Now eat this before I change my mind and kick you out.” He places the bowl of soup on the table in front of the couch and then extends his arms to help you up. With his left hand wrapping around the top of your back, he uses his right arm to softly place on your left shoulder and gently pull you up against the back of his couch, your back limp against the soft furniture.

His hands weren’t rough, but they weren’t exactly soft, either. You couldn’t really put your finger on it but his hands made you feel more at ease.

You try not to show the pain in your face as he repositions you, although he doesn’t know why. He knows that you’re pretending that the pain doesn’t exist, but he doesn’t exactly know why. He raises his hand to your forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat gathering on your forehead.

“You seriously don’t need to do this for me. I can manag-”

“Just shut up and eat the damn soup, (Y/N). Your mom called when you were unconscious so I-”

“Did you tell her? Did you tell her what happened?” Worry splashed across your face as you bring your hands toward your temple, massaging it with your fingers in order to try and keep your composure.

“What? No, I just told her that you ran into me and that I’m walking you home. Which is why you need to hurry the hell up and eat the soup before I make you starve.”

You let out a loud sigh, shaking your hands and rolling your head back to calm yourself down. The blondie observes your motions and he wonders what could’ve made you react like that, but he stays silent as you make your way towards the bowl and spoon on the table.

“Wow, this is really good, Bakugou-kun! What are you, like a five-star chef or something?” Your expression lights up while his expression stays flat as stands up, going to clean his mess.

“No, but whatever brand that the soup came from certainly is apparently.” You giggle at his remark as you go back to your soup. He halfway turns his head to look at you with a side eye, but turns back. He was so confused. Why are you acting like this? He wanted to ask you so many questions and he wanted to figure you out but decided not to say anything.

He finishes cleaning the kitchen when he comes up to you, sitting on the couch across from you. With his legs wide and his hands clasped in between them, he slouches and stares at you while you eat.

You blow on your soup, thoroughly enjoying it, and look up to see him red eyes beaming at you.

“Uh, did you have a question? Or something?”

He wasted no time and immediately responded. “Who was that guy? I’m guessing you know him, right? That doesn’t just happen at random, you know.”

You reposition yourself, suddenly uncomfortable with our seating arrangement, and close your eyes while slowly inhaling through your nose. You had to tell him. You can’t just lie. I mean, you were good at it, but it seems like he genuinely wants to know. Fine, let’s give it a shot.

“You promise not to tell anyone? No one? Ever? Not a single soul? If you do I-”

“Just fucking tell me, jesus.”

You let out a sigh and set your bowl down on the table, finished.

“He is my ex.” Bakugou’s eyes widened. Ex? You were only 16, why would an ex do that? “Ex best friend, I mean.” You smile and let out a breathy laugh as you grab the hem of your gray hoodie to help fidget with your fingers.

He slowly went from confused and shocked to feeling tricked. He doesn’t like to be tricked. He’ll let it slide, this time.

“It’s a long story, something I don’t really want to get into right now, but I should be fine.”

“Fine? Have you seen your stomach? You feel terrible and I know it.”

“Seriously, Bakugou-kun, I’m good!” You let out a cute chuckle and put a bright smile on, even though you know he isn’t buying it.

“I’m sure. Now let’s get you back home before the hag gets back.”

“Hag?” You look at him in genuine confusion as he walks over to you, offering his arm to give you something to grip on. You refuse, and by now he should’ve seen this coming.

“Dammit, (Y/N), just take my fucking arm. It’s not that hard, just do it.”

You don’t want to get on his bad side, especially after your injured torso, so you let him help you by grabbing his left arm while he uses his left to grab the left side of your back to keep you balanced.

Standing up with you clinging on Bakugou’s arms, his chest and yours so close you can feel his body heat even through your sweatshirt. With you grabbing on his toned biceps and him holding up your elbows, you two make eye contact. You gaze at each other, looking into each eye, observing the little details in his eye. He did the same to you. His soft expression and small, opened mouth gazed at you in pure peculiarity. As he opens his mouth wider to ask what he’s been wondering all along, the front door swings open with Bakugou’s mother and father walking in.

“Katsukiiiii! Where are youuuuu! I have groceries!”

You both pull back, but keeping your grip on each other, while you both turn to look away.

“Katsuki! I swear to god if you are doing anything to that girl-”

“SHUT IT DAMN HAG WE’RE RIGHT HERE!”

Oh, that’s who he was talking about.

“Ohhh (Y/N), so nice to meet you, well, when you’re awake. Sorry you had to deal with this ungrateful little child-”

“STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE THAT!”

“I GET TO TALK ABOUT YOU HOW EVER I WANT NOW SIT YOUR ASS DOWN BEFORE I MAKE YOU!”

“YOU DON’T SCARE ME OLD HAG!”

“SAY THAT IN FIVE MINUTES WHEN I’M DONE BEATING YOUR ASS!”

Wow, should've seen that coming…

Bakugou almost drops you as he starts to walk to his mom with full fists. You didn’t even realize that his hands were digging into your arms and that he brought you up against his chest with your torso bending in a way that made your head stick out the side of his body. You wince and hiss in pain as you quickly push back and squeeze his arm, stealing his attention from his mom to you. He looks down at you and sees the pain in your face, so he gently pulls you back from him only slightly before you squeeze his arm again in pain.

“How much does it hurt?” Both him and his mom are worried, his dad just entering full of bags, almost blinding his eyesight. Bakugou’s mother quickly helps out her husband, leaving you and Bakugou in the living room alone. “Answer me, how much does it hurt?”

“Not that bad.” You start to sweat again, if Bakugou hadn’t fed you and wasn’t holding you up you’d probably fall unconscious to the floor. He lifts his head to look at the ceiling, rolling his eyes in annoyance as you lie to him again.

“I swear to God, (Y/N). Answer me honestly. How. Much. Does it. Hurt.” He articulates the last sentence in hopes to get it through your obviously thick skull.

You feel dizzy as you lean onto Bakugou, your vision getting blurry and head knocking into his chest. Your grip loosens as you finally lose consciousness and fall into his arms. And again, he catches you. Almost as if on instinct, he switches from his hands holding your elbows to his arms wrapping around your back, one of his hands catching your head from falling back too rough, and he kneels you down to try and pick you up.

TAGLIST [OPEN]: @jazzylove , @bakug0ush0e

send an ask^

#bnha #bnha series #series #mha #mha series #part 2 #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou headcanons

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lord-darth-maul · 4 years ago

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*With the many visits from Grim, the Jedi healers had seen even more improvement and brought this up to the Jedi council. They took into consideration of Grims pleas to move Maul as well, and decided it could be beneficial to Maul.

It was an early morning when a few officers, along side Jedi came to him room, unlocking it. It startled Maul awake shooting a look to the people entering* “What time is it? What is going on?

“Looks like you get a change of scenery” One said in a very vague way not giving any clue to where. The man spoke agsin* “Time to get up, and show hands” This worried Maul, but complied having the wrist restraints back on but asked*

“Where are we going?” Maul saw more workers come in with boxes for his art. He wanted to watch but was escorted out into the hall* “Be careful with all of that! Some ceramics are delicate! And don’t ruin my paintings!”

“No ones going to break your things, I think the people of this new place will enjoy them” A Jedi healer spoke trying to keep him calm* “And hopefully this will be the last time in those” She gestured to the restraints, which Maul looked down at sadly not sure what that meant either.* “Come, let’s get going, your things will be shortly behind” It was probably the first time Maul was outside since being brought to the facility and had to adjust to the natural daylight some. He saw some new purposed clone troopers, which brought a smile to him with the war over. They lead him into a ship docked at the facility and made sure he didn’t try anything. There were no windows which made the ride quiet and awkward. Maul did fidget with the restraints to see if there was a way to get them off without keys or disassembly part of his feet cybernetics to get the ankle ones off. It was mostly for a distraction to keep busy in thought.

The ship came to a stop and thunk of landing. The troopers continued silence didn’t help when Maul asked again* “Where are we going? To the corrections facility?” he figured it was the other logical place since they thought he wasn’t truly crazy. They helped him up to his feet and lowered the ramp off. It was different than expected, he was met with several of the Jedi council members which greeted him, including to his continued confusion, General Kenobi*

“New quarters given you will be, want to help you we all do” Yoda first spoke, but maul still had a questioning and fixated look at Obiwan until Yoda spoke.*

“What is this place?” Maul only saw other ships, along with the second that was behind the transport he was taken in. He guessed that was other troopers bringing his things from the psychiatric facility from before*

“Somewhere, your friend Grim has been bugging all of us to bring you too” Obiwan spoke finally catching Mauls attention again. The thoughts of past discussions of being at the temple crossed his mind, but this didn’t look like the temple*

“Come, much to show you there is, and go over there is” Yoda motioned for Maul to follow, the other masters pointed out things once entering the temple itself from the ship hangar. Maul looked at everything to even spinning which trying to see all the things pointed out. He thought it was some cruel trick of just a visit, but remembered the statement of ‘quarters’

It was eventually just Obiwan, mace, Yoda, and Plo that remained when getting to their final destination being an actual room, with a view out over Coruscant, a personal washroom though he didn’t see the use for a tub. The sink would help the most with cleaning. He glanced around everything. He felt tears swell with it being something he dreamed but thought wouldn’t happen. He nearly forgot about his wrists when attempting to wipe the tears*

“That is another thing..” Mace spoke being given the keys to the restraints and cuffs..* ��let’s get those off of you now” He came up to first do the wrist ones, then the back of the waist which fell to the floor, and finally the ankle ones. The feeling of them off felt like a large weight had been taken off of movements.* “the other ship had to make a pit stop at the senate to pick up the last ... part of the surprise”

“This... this has been more than enough of a surprise” Maul still was cleaning his eyes and looking through all the cabinets and closets, to other things he didn’t know what they did.*

“Well I think you’ll like this part just a bit more. You’ll want to take a seat and bring your head down some” Obiwan added as he moved to let senate officers come in with the device used to remove the collar*

*Maul looked confused, but did what he wanted. He looked at the officers and then machine. Maul rested his eyes not knowing what they were going to do, but soon felt something clamp to the collar which made him open his eyes. The only thing he thought was ‘could it be? Could it come off?’ After some minutes of transmitted code, the distinct sound of the locking mechanisms were heard and it popped open. One caught it and sat it on the cart the device was sitting on. For about several minutes, Maul felt around his neck, the area where collar sat, and had this mix of crying and being overjoyed of it gone. He could slowly feel his connection to the force again. Maul looked back when Mace spoke.*

“You’ll be free to move around the temple, and I am sure you will want to meet with Grim too, but on the one condition that you will have an ankle monitor for tracking, and the healers doing evaluations on progress”

Maul gave a quiet nod still feeling around his neck. It felt like the rawness of the lack of a force connection had been relieved. He stayed seated while the senate officers set up the other less noticeable device around an ankle. The only noticeable indication of it there was a light going from red to green in activation.

Once the senate officers left the room, the other troopers brought his belongs just outside of the room waiting to be told to bring them in for Maul to rehang up.* “we’ll let you get your things situated, along with some better cloths to change into, along with others to have too” Obiwan commented before heading out of the room, mace and others followed.

It all felt like a dream to him. He felt that the force was peaceful there, there was no turmoil.. it felt calming to him, even as a dark sider, but could live with it. He got up to rummage through his things to hang up drawings and paintings. The delicate things where carefully wrapped to keep from breaking, and set them on different shelves. The room was considerably bigger than what was given at the facility, which gave him the space to add to the artworks.

After getting things put up and away, he decided to rest after such an ordeal with the move, and surprises. There were things that he was used to in the other facility, such as the doors always being locked. The Jedi masters shut the door after leaving to give him privacy. It wasn’t until a curious Padawan had opened the door, and no sound of keys was heard when he looked to see the kid* “You feel new here... and hungry, sir”

“How’d you get in? Isn’t the door locked?” Maul asked watching, but did feel the hunger of not having a meal since the move. He watched the Padawan turn the handle on both sides freely meaning he wasn’t confined to the room.*

“Come on, I’ll show you to the Cafeteria” He spoke in excitement of helping Maul. Maul realized he still had the scrub cloths on, but was too curious to change and followed. Between the feeling of the lack of the collar, and not hearing the chains, he actually made a smile. The smells of the food area were already enticing, it was nothing like the facility and had foods that he could stomach being all meat and not some mixture of things. The best part was having normal silverware to cut up his own food and eat with besides just a flimsy plastic spoon. He savored each bite as if he’d never had a proper meal. Of course there other young Padawans looking and had smiles but were quiet with watching him being new to the place. They weren’t afraid of him as he didn’t give off the same ominous presence as before. He looked into the reflective surface of the knife to still see the red and yellow scarring from the dark side, but didn’t feel the need to use it.

Once he finished the first of many enjoyable meals, Maul went to search for his Jedi Knight friend in order to thank her in person*

@grimthejedisith

16 notes · View notes

brittledame · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: Semi Eita/Reader

Warnings: Explicit, Mildly Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Scent Marking, Possessive Semi, Claiming, Mention of violence/gore, Alternate Universe, Fantasy AU, Wolf!Semi, Witch!Reader

Word Count: 9.1K

Summary: After Goshiki and Ushijima are thrown into an alternate universe after getting hit by a truck, they're thrown into a generation-old prophecy to defeat the Demon King that had been terrorizing the land. Joining the whirl-wind adventure, you face off the feared Wolf at a great disadvantage. Prepared to meet your fate in order to protect your team, you never anticipated him making a move on you and for it to end in you promising yourself to him.

Notes: Inspired by chapter 24 of Haikyuu-bu!! I started working on this in the middle of the 2nd installment to ‘Semi’s Blow Blow Up’ which I’m hoping to get out before the end of September. Also, I let Semi keep his ears and tail in this, please don’t send me to hell for that. Other than that, please enjoy!!

When Tsutomu and Ushijima ended up on top of a hill surrounded by acres of green rolling-hills, the younger honestly assumed the worst had happened. The bus had hit him and now he was dead in heaven. Of-course Ushijima would be there with him, he’s probably never made a misdeed in his life, meanwhile Tsutomu was slightly shocked he’d end up in heaven after spitefully cutting his older sister’s hair off when she teased his haircut when he was younger.

No, that can’t be right, he can't be in heaven. Everything felt too real. A breeze tousled his hair and he could smell the dirt under his scuffed runners. He couldn’t be dead, meaning that this place wasn’t heaven or purgatory, but someplace else. From the odd-looking trees sporting large purple leaves and expansive Elysian scenery, Tsutomu couldn’t shoot down the absurd idea that he was in an alternate dimension.

Patting himself down, he knew he was physically fine and felt his heart anxiously pounding away inside his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ushijima standing tall, giving the area around them a surveying glance before his olive eyes landed on his shaky form.

“Goshiki, are you alright?” His deep timbre did calm his frayed nerves, it was hard not to trust his dependable senpai.

Nodding his head, Tsutomu responds with number one question of the day: “Ushijima-senpai, where are we?”

He tried to conceal the fear in his tone, but it would seem that he failed miserably as Ushijima places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“That truck must have hit us quite a fair way away.” Ushijima states, looking nowhere near as panicked as one should in their situation.

Goshiki gives him bewildered look, gesturing to the land in front of them.

“You think we would be fine after getting hit by a truck?” Tsutomu didn’t try to hide his hysteria. “No matter what way you paint it, this place doesn’t look like anywhere in Miyagi!”

“But there’s Shirabu.” Ushijima points somewhere over Tsutomu’s shoulder.

Half scared that he’s going to turn around and it’s some eldritch terror standing behind him, he froze in place. Although Tsutomu knew Ushijima would never put him in danger, Ushijima had no sense of danger; case and point the ghost incident. Gathering his scattered courage, he turns around and is dumbfounded to find Shirabu indeed standing before him, albeit he was now dressed in unusual garments.

“Shirabu?” Tsutomu exclaims, half relived that at least someone with a brain not solely filled with volleyball would see the insanity of their situation.

“Shirabu? No, I am not a Shirabu, I am Elf.” Not-Shirabu responds while pulling his hood off to expose comically long ears. Tsutomu could feel his mind take a temporary holiday, leaving him half-cocked and not nearly prepared enough to deal with this shit.

“We’re in an actual alternate universe…”

A short trek later, Tsutomu found himself being hosted by Not-Shirabu, who was scarily similar to Shirabu - right down to his mannerisms. Tsutomu could’ve sworn that every time he asked a question about this world, Not-Shirabu fought down a grimace, but never failed to give him a short response. He was polite but was obvious about his distaste towards Tsutomu’s inherently curious nature.

“Shirabu, everyone will worry if we do not return to school soon.” Ushijima succinctly summarises their situation.

“It’s Elf,” Not-Shirabu says immediately. “You want to return to your world?”

At their nods, Not-Shirabu slumps in his chair with a hefty sigh.

“I’m afraid there’s an issue with that. I would love to get you back home, but an evil Demon King has taken over this land. I’m afraid to say that going home is out of the question.”

Tsutomu felt his heart sink at the words. They couldn’t return home? What were they going to do here for a living? They could farm, but Tsutomu is nowhere near well-read in that field compared to Ushijima. Even in this dire situation, Tsutomu was reluctant to admit defeat.

“A Demon King?” He queried, obviously fishing for information about this Demon King. Maybe there was a way to convince him to let them home?

“Yes.” Elf drily responded.

Tsutomu could feel his eye twitch at the Shirabu-like response. Even in an alternate universe, his senpai was a short and antagonistic towards Tsutomu.

Only when he was prompted by Ushijima’s nod, did he continue.

“He is a malicious being with the sole incentive is to spread misfortune across the land. It started with small mischievous deeds, such as cutting individual’s hair into odd styles.” Elf pauses here to raise a hand to his fringe and Tsutomu had to smother the laugh that could threaten his life. “Now he has moved onto terrorising villages and increasing tax prices to an unbelievable high.”

“That is no way to run a country.” Ushijima hums in disapproval.

Tsutomu clasped his hands over his head, already feeling a headache coming on. So we’re going to completely ignore that Shirabu’s weird ass fringe was the result of some Demon King that has apparently ravaged the land by hiking up tax prices? And why did this all sound like something Tendou-senpai would do? He felt latent hysteria rise to the surface again.

“I’m sorry that he got you too, Goshiki.” Elf says solemnly.

Head snapping up, Tsutomu felt outraged at the comment. He worked really hard for his fringe to be this straight. Tsutomu would swear up until his deathbed that bowl cuts were cool.

“Hey! My fringe is untouched by the Demon King. This was my choice!” Goshiki defended his hairstyle, patting at the dark strands, making sure there wasn’t any odd fly-aways.

“We can’t go home as long as the demon king reigns?” Ushijima interjects, effectively ending the argument before it started. Ushijima was all too used to being the only one to stop arguments between Goshiki and Shirabu, he knew all the warning signs.

“Yes.” Elf says with an apologetic look. “I’m very sorry. If only the summoning of the ‘Otherworldly Hero’ passed on from past generations had succeeded. They are the sole hope we have.”

A silence envelopes the room, heavy and suffocating.

Tsutomu knew that panicking would do nothing but waste valuable energy, but he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed at the insane situation they found themselves in. A niggling thought heaped more anxiety onto him when it raises a good point. What if they were able to go home, what happens if time passes differently here? A day here may be twelve years back home. What would he do if he went back home and all his friends were old, his parents dead and –

Elf startles Tsutomu out of his downward spiral by suddenly jerking back with a gasp, wide eyes focused on Ushijima’s left hand holding a spoon laden with soup. The sudden motion had caused a cup to fall and clatter loudly against the stone flooring, which went widely ignored as Elf raises a trembling finger pointed at the stoic brunette.

“You’re using the spoon with your left hand. Are you –!” He cuts himself off as he rushes over to Ushijima’s side, not quite believing his own eyes. “The Otherworldly Hero!”

Tsutomu could not point out a time he’s ever heard so much emotion poured into Shirabu’s tone, he was almost swept up into Elf’s zeal before his logic kicked back in.

It was that easy?! Tsutomu internally screamed. This was just getting ridiculous at this point, honestly.

After a singular trial of pulling a sword out of stone and Tsutomu embarrassing himself and losing Elf’s respect, they found themselves starting a quest. The fanboy within him was super excited that he was going on an actual quest, exactly like the ones in his RPG campaigns.

“Remind me why we need this witch again?” Tsutomu questions, much to Elf’s evident annoyance.

“We need her to get through the Mystical Woods. It's prowled by one of the Demon King’s acolytes.” Elf slides his eyes to give Tsutomu a warning look, not wanting to answer anymore questions.

Gulping at the intimidating look, Tsutomu waved away the twenty billion other questions that came to mind as they made their way towards a tall stone tower. Tsutomu wonders what the witch would look like. Would she be someone they know, or someone completely new?

At this point in the trip, he silently begging any listening deities that she’s friendly. Ushijima and Shirabu have never been the best talking companions in his world and this trip has highlighted to Tsutomu how much he’d taken Yamagata’s and Reon’s friendly conversations for granted.

The tower ahead of them slowly grew in size until Tsutomu estimated it stood at least 5 stories tall. Following in Elf’s shadow, they pause a few feet away from the base. Looking at the structure, Tsutomu was quick to notice that there was no door present. Maybe they were on the wrong side of the tower?

He was just about to voice this before Elf cups his mouth and proceeds to yell up at one of the open windows.

“Hey Witch, come down! I found the Otherworldly Hero!” He shouts, uncaring at the ruckus he was making.

Tsutomu winces at the volume, shocked at how loud Elf could get. Absent mindedly, he wonders if the Shirabu in his dimension could get that loud too. Looking back up at the window, the youngest saw a head peak out.

“What?!” A familiar voice yells back down. The head disappears out of sight before any of them could respond.

No even a moment later, a dark door appears on the once-blank wall before them. Opening, the door reveals a figure that Tsutomu never thought he’d see. He should've expected it, this situation was crazy enough as it was.

Walking out of the dark room, you come to stand out in the sunlight, confirming your identity. Tsutomu blushed when he noted your attire. You looked exactly how you did before their run, minus the dark blue dress that hugged your curves and loose hair. Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself, he subtly glances to the side to catch Ushijima’s reaction to your appearance.

With his usual neutral expression, he exclaims your name with no more vigour than any other time he’s said it. Tsutomu put too much faith into Ushijima, he should have expected the lack of a reaction as well.

You give Ushijima an odd expression, looking at Elf to explain what was going on.

“Manager-chan?” Goshiki interrupted. Elf shot him a nasty look at the interruption and ended up sighing whilst rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“They've been calling me weird names all afternoon too. Just ignore the short Otherworlder.” Goshiki whines at his harsh words.

You pique an eyebrow at the bowl-cut boy. “So I look like someone you know from your world?”

“Yes,” Ushijima answered monotonously. “You look exactly like our team’s manager.”

You hum as you mull over his words. “Curious. So that would mean you're from a world that is directly parallel to ours, a completely different dimension with shared similarities.” Your tone picked in pace and excitement as you spoke, the end of your sentence becoming a smear to the males around you.

At their collective blank looks you made an odd hand gesture in the air. “Anyway… You found the Hero?” Giving Ushijima a curious look, you completely ignore Tsutomu’s existence.

It kind of hurt for one of his kindest senpai's to outright disregard his presence. Reminding himself of parallel universes, he had to actively tell himself that you weren’t technically you.

Wow, he really hated this alternative universe stuff.

“I’ve been told as such.” Ushijima supplies, not at all weirded out by you invading his personal space to prod at his biceps.

Turning on your heel, you make your way towards Elf and throw a casual arm around his shoulders. Not at all bothered by your antics, Elf stands there as you lean against him. Tsutomu knew in his world that you and Shirabu got along quite well, that must have translated into this universe as well.

“Why are you here instead of saving the lands now that you have the Hero at hand?” Your question is a legitimate one, one that Tsutomu would’ve asked if he wasn’t scared of Shirabu’s infamous back of the knee kicks. If Ushijima was supposedly strong enough to take on the Demon King, surely he'd be able to take on one simple lackey lurking in the woods they needed to cross.

“We’re here to recruit you. You’re the only one I know powerful enough to conceal us to get past the Demon King’s pet monsters.” He patiently explains.

“Aw and here I was thinking it was because you missed me. I missed you, y’know?” You teased. Truly, you did miss Elf and all the shenanigans the two of you would get into, but you would never pass up an opportunity to needle him.

Elf simply rolls his eyes at you and shrugs the arm off of his shoulder.

“I mean it. We need you to get through the Mystical Woods without being detected by Wolf.” You frown at Elf’s serious expression, the reality of the situation dawning upon you.

“You know I’m never going to turn down a quest with you, but his senses are ridiculously enhanced. It’ll take a lot out of me.” Running a hand through your hair, Tsutomu recognised it as your nervous tick. “I won’t be much help during the final battle.”

“Don’t worry about that. You can rely on me.” Ushijima simply states but the effect on you and Elf is immediate.

The Hero’s simple words eviscerated your reservations, the conviction in his tone was all you needed to hear. That paired with the large sacred sword still embedded in stone was all it took to convince you it wasn't a fool's mission.

Agreeing to join their party, you rush to grab your wand and some other resources to assist the party later on in the journey before setting off.

By the time you all stood before the ominous-looking trees of the Mystical Woods, the sun was starting to settle on the horizon, warning you that you had little to no time to make it through before night came along and the true battle began.

“Before we enter, I must tell you all that Wolf’s senses are second to none. He’ll hear a whisper, smell you an acre away, and could destroy you before you could blink.” Your warning only served to scare Goshiki. You rushed to complete your weak pep talk. “But, I’m here so it is very unlikely that he will catch us, much less even be in this neck of the woods.”

Your words did little to soothe the youngest, although he did put a brave face on. You had to stop yourself from cooing at how cute he looked with his chest puffed out and a serious expression adorning his young face.

“Hey, uh, what does this wolf look like? That way if we spot him we can seek some cover.” Goshiki suggests.

Impressed, you gave him an encouraging smile and ignored Elf snorting behind you.

“That’s a brilliant idea, good job Goshiki.” You praised, noticing the way his eyes lit up at it. “Wolf roams around in his human form as far as I’m aware of. He’s taller than Elf but shorter than Hero.”

Elf indignantly huffs at your comment, not all liking your unintentional poke at the sore topic.

“He has pale hair, it almost looks white sometimes. Oh, he also constantly has this really grumpy look on his face.” You continue to list off a series of characteristics that describes Semi to a tee. There was no doubt in Tsutomu’s and Ushijima’s mind about who Wolf was.

“That sounds like Semi.” Goshiki remarked once you finished.

Receiving blank looks from you and Elf, Tsutomu stumbled over his words as he tried to articulate his thoughts.

“Ah, well, the person you just described sounds exactly like my senpai back home called Semi.” Tsutomu let out a small chuckle as he’s hit with a funny nickname for his senpai.

“We’re going to avoid Semi-Wolf so that we can get to the castle, defeat the king and go home, right?” Tsutomu smoothly recovers.

You laugh at the odd nickname Goshiki coined.

“Semi-Wolf you say? I quite like that.” You raise your hand to cover your grin, very amused at how much the ever-serious Wolf would hate it.

Always forced to be the voice of reason, Elf clapped his hands to refocus everyone’s attention.

“We can’t lose focus now. Once we enter these trees we can’t afford to be found by Wolf, even with Witch and Hero on our side, it would be a tiresome battle if he spots us.” His grave tone quickly sobered up the party.

Taking a deep breath, you withdraw your wand, starting to draw out an intricate rune in the air. A familiar tingling sensation overtakes your body as magic begins to flow from the earth up into your fingers and into the wand.

Finishing the last line, a glowing circle with swirling line and sharp strokes stood before you. Fastening the members behind you with a heavy look, you offered them one last chance to back out.

“Are you all ready?”

All three nod back at you, already having steeled themselves whilst you prepared the rune. Turning back to the rune, you finished the casting and walked through it with the three males hot on your tracks. It evaporated as soon as you stepped through it, effectively masking your scents and dampening all sounds. Even Ushijima could sense the tangible weight of the magic casted over his body.

The woods were exactly as you remembered it from when you were a child and wasn’t claimed by the fearsome Wolf. The trees looked the same with rough and peeling bark, along with the ground looking as damp and spongy as the days you ran through it barefooted and free-spirited.

While you didn’t explicitly state that they couldn’t talk, you were secretly glad that they didn’t. It would’ve made your life much more difficult to funnel more energy into the rune to mask them, it was already bad enough that your couldn't completely conceal everyone. Your combined efforts of creeping between the threes on light feet was counteracted by Ushijima nicking every second tree with the sword's sharp blade, creating a trail of bark.

Eyes and ears stayed vigilant even as you noticed a landmark for the half-way point through the forest. You paused at the large outcropping of rocks resembling a sleeping lady and mouth at them that it you were half-way there. Elf and Goshiki looked relieved whilst Ushijima sported the same bland look.

You were tempted to suggest a short rest before continuing through the woods, where Semi-Wolf commonly prowled. The words died on your tongue as you noticed an abnormally thick fog rapidly approach your group. Not even a blink later and the fog had consumed all visibility below the waist.

You’ve spent your whole life surrounded by magic, you knew that this fog came from an unnatural origin. You had hoped that the fog would stay at that height but those were quickly dashed when you saw it slowly creep up your body. It wouldn’t be long before your entire vision was obscured.

This was not good, not good at all.

Whirling around, you went to grab at your team’s clothing to anchor them to you. As your hands cut throw empty air, your fear doubled. You doubted that they abandoned you, it was likely the doing of the magical woods. While you loved to experiment and witness all types of magic, always keen to expand your knowledge, the magic in these woods never failed to unnerve you even as a young child.

Not only was there a predator out here, the woods were also working against you.

Considering your options, you concluded that you were rapidly running out of choices.

Calling out their names was objectively a stupid choice, but it was the best thing you could do with breaking the fragile magic coating them. It was almost a form a self-sacrifice. If you drew enough attention to yourself, they would hopefully find their way to you - or at least something would.

A few tense moments go by, each call answered with dead silence. Not even the insects and birds dared to make a sound.

Casting a tracking spell was completely off the table. Not only was the fog thick enough that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, it would shatter the meagre concealing magic coating them. At least it was something to protect them, it was much better then leaving them completely defenceless.

“Shit.” You hissed. Worriedly, you eye the magical fog that was becoming more oppressive, feeling like a physical weight pressing down on you.

“I didn’t know good witches like yourself cursed. So unladylike.” A deep rumbling voice sounded right next to your ear. It was close enough to for warm breath to caress your cold skin. Your skin immediately breaks into goose bumps.

Freezing, your mind descends into chaos as it crowds with worrying thoughts. The most prominent one pointed out the fact that Wolf was able to get dangerously close to you without your notice, magical fog aside. There was no doubt about who he was, there was no other that claimed the woods like he has.

You whirl around, trying to find the voice’s owner, full well knowing of whom you were seeking out. Fear coiled inside of your gut, trying it’s hardest to paralyse your muscles and haze your mind over in fear at the thought of facing Wolf alone at a disadvantage.

“You speak as if you’re a gentleman yourself, Semi-Wolf. You don’t have much room to condone my language when you have the mouth of a foul-tempered troll.” You rebuked, falsifying the confidence in your tone. Showing an ounce of trepidation in front of him would be deadly.

Eyes frantically flitting about, attempting to catch a glimpse of a shadow or anything that would reveal his whereabouts. Your eyes were met with nothing but swirling white, not a single sign as to where he could be. This whole situation had you on edge.

He chuckles at your weak jab. The sound reverberated off of the trees and felt like it came from all around you, only serving to further confuse you about his whereabouts.

While every drop of mana was precious, you thought it prudent to at least being able to see your enemy. It should at least put you on equal footing with him. Flicking your wand, you cast a spell to temporarily filter out the fog around you, creating a clear bubble around you and the menacing man before you.

Even though he looked just as you had described to your otherworldly companions, viewing Wolf not even two meters away from one’s self was always a different experience. The first feature that caught your attention was his dark eyes, iris colour similar to richly stained wood, secondly was his elongated nails coming to a fatal point. Claws sharp enough to shear through flesh with ease were paired with pointed canines exposed by his predatory smile.

Your heart speeds up as you recognised how doomed you were, armed only with your wand, half of your mana and a pouch of useless herbs. The fluffy white dark-tipped ears sitting atop his head flick at the thundering sound of your palpable fear. Wolf's smile widened at that, tail swishing side-to-side in glee. This was going to be all too easy for him.

“Found you Semi-Wolf” Your white-knuckled grip around your wand belied your light tone.

“Don’t call me that.” He growls out, eyes narrowing at you. He was not impressed at your impertinence.

You would normally roll your eyes at the needless display of anger, but you couldn’t afford to take your eyes off of his intimidating figure slowly walking around you.

“What are you doing in my territory,” he continues. You knew he didn't care about your answer, it was more so to draw this out.

Fine, you’d bite.

“We’re on a quest, so please kindly don’t interfere.” He pauses to the left of you, now not even an arms-length away from you. Your body instinctively tenses at this, acutely aware that he could take you out faster than you could cast at this distance.

“I can’t let my reputation suffer just because you asked politely to cross through. There’s consequences to encroaching my land without permission.” His tone darkens at the end of his sentence, acting as if you personally offended him by doing so.

You knew he wouldn’t let you go so easily but a girl could always dream, right?

Lowering your centre of gravity, you subtly shift your body into a fighting stance and forcibly relax your wrist. A stiff wrist would hinder casting and it would frankly be embarrassing to be taken down so quickly, regardless of Wolf being the second toughest opponent controlled by the Demon King.

His keen eyes catch onto your slight movements and he moves in kind. It appears that you’re confident enough to take him on directly off the bat and not even attempt to run away. Whether this choice was misguided or made by underestimating him, Wolf was going to make you rued the day you thought you stood a chance against him.

Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you immediately cast a paralysing spell. The spell missed widely as he simultaneously lunged towards you at that very moment. This back and forth of casting and dodging goes on for a while and it wasn't long before you could physically feel your mana decrease and muscles grow tired. Maybe locking yourself in a tower for months on end didn’t have the best effect on your stamina.

Knowing you didn’t have a chance in hell against him while half-powered thanks to the prior masking spell, you could do nothing but futilely dodge him and cast the occasional fire ball his way. In the back of your mind, you spared a thought to the rest of the party and prayed to the deities that they were making their way out of the woods.

An exposed root caught your foot as you danced out of reach from a swipe of his deadly claws. Time seemed to slow down as your world tilted and the ground rose up to catch your body. Catching yourself on unsteady hands, you hiss as the rough ground scrapes your palms and knees enough to bleed.

Seizing the win, Wolf walks over to your stationary form, savouring the smell of your blood on the air. It smelt sweet, Wolf licked his lips and nudged you onto your back with his foot. He briefly wondered if you would taste just as sweet. You had put up a good fight and Wolf always loved a good challenge.

Semi-Wolf cages your body with his own, his large hands trapping yours above your head, with his legs pinning yours down. At this point, you had resigned yourself to your fate. You never really thought that you’d die like this, a hot guy murdering you was always a bonus you supposed.

Bringing his face towards yours, your breath falters when his lips floats above yours. Eyes wide, you noticed the hunger in his dark eyes, a hunger that you knew yourself all too intimately. Seeing his lips tilt into a dangerous smirk, your eyes lock onto them much to Wolf’s evident amusement. He uses the opportunity of your diverted attention to closely check you out, his eyes sweeping down your form.

He vastly appreciates the simple dark gown you wore. The dress exposed enough cleavage without becoming a disaster and had a leg slit that exposed a fair amount of soft-looking skin. Wetting his lips at the delicious sight you made underneath him, Wolf knows his evaluating looks were far from one sided, he could feel your gaze burn into his skin in kind.

Making eye contact with you, he decided he was going to indulge himself just this once. After weeks of dealing with Demon King’s shenanigans and then having to come back and patrol the woods with nothing in terms of companionship, he was admittedly lonely. He also harboured a lot of frustration and pent-up sexual desires and then there you were, waltzing on in with a form-fitting dress and smelling of ripened strawberries.

Wolf leans down and brings his mouth to your neck. All that filled your mind was the different but all equally as gruesome ideas of how he could kill you in this position. Him tearing out your throat was at the forefront of your mind.

Wolf licks a hot stripe up your throat, tasting your rabbit-like heartbeat. It was almost cute how much he scared you. He was almost tempted to assure you he can be gentle if he’s in the mood for it. From how you reacted to his each and every touch, he knew his self-restraint would truly be tested tonight. He did so love a sensitive lover.

“What are you going to do to me?” Your voice shakes and serves to further spur him on. Temptingly, he brushes his lips against yours, as light as a feather and no where near the pressure you now craved.

This close up you could see the flecks of near obsidian accentuating his mahogany brown irises that swirled with unspoken promises of what he was planning to do to you tonight. He doesn’t answer, choosing to stare instead.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Pushing him probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Then again, you never would have gotten into adventuring if you had all your wits about you.

Again, silence meets your ears as he rolls his eyes at you in response, much to your shock. The action was unexpected, completely out of character for him, judging from the gossip you’ve overheard from the townspeople.

“I’ve got a much better use for that cute little mouth of yours then asking pointless questions.” He purrs into your ear.

You very nearly swallowed your tongue, eyes wide in disbelief. Your mind was still spinning at the sudden turn the night has taken. You were ready to fight for your life, not get pinned down and get propositioned. His actions spoke leagues, he didn’t leave any room for misinterpretation of what he desired from you. As much as that thought should’ve scared you, a thrill of anticipation sparked down your spine.

Noticing your receptiveness, Wolf planned to test how far he could push you before you pulled back. Testing the waters, he bridges the short gap between your mouths and kisses you. To his amusement, you froze for half a breath before reciprocating, soft lips moving skillfully against his.

Deepening the kiss, he doesn’t wait for permission to lick into your mouth, earning him a gasp. You never really spared any thought to him before this day other than reluctant acknowledgement of his strength, that even armed with an arsenal of spells you’d still struggle to defeat him. Never in a hundred years would you think that he was a good kisser and yet here he was doing his best to thoroughly prove you wrong.

Warmth spread through your body as you tried to pay him in kind, but he was intent on dominating the kiss in every way. Your mind wondered over the thought of him dominating you in another way and your heart gave a concerning lurch inside our chest.

Semi-Wolf ends up breaking the kiss to chuckle down at you after a moan escaped. Embarrassed flush tinging your cheeks pink, you use the break to catch the breath he stole from your lungs.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Semi-Wolf.” You whisper against his lips.

“How much more direct do I have to be with you, little witch? Do you want me to say that I want to fuck that cheeky mouth of yours until you cry?” Heart palpitating, your eyes zero in on him wetting his lips, wondering what else his tongue could do. “Or maybe that I’m horny enough to fuck you regardless of your incessant questioning.”

This time you shiver at the way his deep voice seemed elicit lust to cloud your mind. Horny yourself from countless days of self-imposed isolation in your pursuit of knowledge after your last disastrous quest with Elf, you weren’t exactly in the right mind-frame to deny him.

At the same time though, who said you would make it easy for him?

“Even the big bad Wolf gets lonely guarding the creepy woods.” You goad him, eager to get a rise from him.

Rising to the obvious bait, his grip tighten around your wrists enough to hurt. Meeting his scowl with a jovial expression, you inwardly crowed at how easy it was to rile him up.

“You’d be so much cuter if you didn’t open your mouth. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that for you.” He promises darkly. His thumb presses into your bottom lip and urges you to open your mouth.

You do deny yourself the desire to bite down on his thumb, not wanting to truly make him mad. You just wanted him mad enough to take you without holding back.

Releasing your other wrist, he makes quick work of undoing his pants. Enjoying the view, your tongue licked his thumb, drawing his attention for all of a second before he presses his thumb on top of your tongue. You whine around the intrusion, earning an unimpressed look from him as he reveals his sizable length.

He nearly laughs when he hear you audibly gulp as he shucks down his pants one-handed. His slowly filling dick swelled even more at your groan from just witnessing his length. Even at half-mast he was long and girthy enough for you to wonder if he was going to fit in you.

Not liking the way your attention drifted inwards, Wolf gripped himself and gave a few tugs. To both your fascination and horror, you watched as his cock was stroked into full hardness. At this, you swore to yourself to make it fit, no matter what. There was no way you were going to pass up this once in a life-time opportunity.

Wolf considers the position you were both in and decided that it wouldn’t do. Releasing his cock and removing his thumb from your mouth, he grabs you by the shoulders and forcibly moves you into a new position. You relished the way he manhandled you, you elect to make it easy on him and be pliable for him.

Pushing a hand through his wild hair, he looks over at your new placement. Dress strewn around your legs, the side slit now exposing an indecent amount of flesh as you laid out beside him. Once again grasping your shoulder, he moves your upper body to lean over his spread legs, bringing your face towards his rigid length.

You didn’t fight him as he brought your mouth towards his cock, nor did you wait for permission to start. Wrapping your mouth around the leaking tip, you gave a slight suck before trying to take more of him in all while swirling your tongue around him. His hand moves up into your hair as you slowly make your way down his shaft, cute little mouth already stretched wide.

About half-way down your jaw was starting to get sore from how wide you had to keep your mouth from grazing your teeth harshly against him. You weren’t ready to admit defeat yet, you still hadn’t even taken him fully yet. Throwing caution to the wind, you decide to take the rest of his cock in all the way, sore throat be damned. You gagged at the feeling of him being shoved down your throat, mouth impossibly full as his hips jolt up and keep himself in as you started to pull back.

A loud groan rumbles through the air, rewarding your efforts. His fingers tighten in your hair, locking your head in place. You fight against his grip and win, coming up with a gasp and a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. Giving him a withering glare, you lick up his shaft once, twice, before engulfing him yet again. This was for your benefit, hearing him growl as you sucked him off was just a benefit.

He watched on with delight as you forced yourself to choke on his cock, evidently he was too large for you to handle. Not wanting you to do all the work, he started to slowly roll his hips up and took control of your pace by moving you up and down his member by his grip on your hair.

Unable to take back control, you could do nothing but to let him guide you as he fucks into your mouth. This turned you on incredibly, feeling yourself become wet as he pants and groans into the still air. Distantly, you could hear his tail thump against the ground.

While fucking your willing mouth, he’s struck with a brilliant idea. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he’s now able to feel himself being deepthroated. A rush of blood left him light-headed, absolutely loving the fact that he can feel himself when he shoves his cock even further down your throat, not caring that at how you dug your nails into his hips. Your whines about him taking over only served to arouse him further, feeling the vibrations travel along his length.

He feels himself come close as you swallow around him, tongue rubbing sinuously against all the right spots. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he peaked. While he did have a fast recovery time, he didn’t want to waste a moment of not being buried inside of you. Already the smell your arousal perfumed the air, causing his dick to jump in your mouth at the sudden influx of blood rushing southward. The need to be inside of you trumped the joy he felt from you sucking him off.

Tearing you off of his dick with a slick'pop', you were completely blindsided as he throws you against the ground. His hand grasped your thigh, drawing it up as his other shears the thin fabric of your dress off. Now sitting above mid-thigh, you silently despaired about the destruction of your favourite dress. Uncaring, Wolf impatiently batted the rest of the flowy fabric out of his way, not sparing you a second look at you as he shreds your panties and runs a knuckle down your wet folds.

“I’ve barely touched you and yet you’re this wet,” he muses.

Careful of his nails, he gathers up your liquid arousal on his finger and brings it up to his mouth, tasting you. You clench down on nothing as he closes his eyes to savour your taste with a moan. If he drew this out any longer, you were going to have a spontaneous heart attack.

Squirming under him, you made impatient sound. It didn’t go ignored, grinning down at you, he brings bringing his finger back down to teasingly caress your folds, touches much too light for your taste.

“Aren’t you an impatient little thing,” Semi-Wolf drawled as brushes a knuckle against your hole, pausing over it and slightly dipping in.

A frustrate groan left your lips, tilting your hips up to chase his teasing strokes.

“Please.” You begged as he started again with the feather-light strokes.

Normally you would rather retch than beg for cock, However there was always an exception. That exception being Semi-Wolf's cock. It appeared to be the correct thing to do as his eyes flashed with something sinful, a wild look on his face.

“Since you asked so nicely…” He moves down your body, coming to a stop at the apex of your thighs.

Face so close to your core, his mouth started salivating from how good you smelt. Blowing onto your pussy, he elicits a cute squeal and ended up having to pin your legs down to keep you from kneeing him in the head.

He delivers a long lick between your wet folds and swallows your taste as he prods at your entrance. Judging he had enough fun, he delved straight in. Clawing at the soft ground under you, your chest heaved as his tongue thrus in, swirled around, rubbed against your walls and pulled out. It wasn't long before he had you incoherently begging for something, anything, yet he continued in this fashion until he had your hands tugging at his hair, careful of his furry ears, and writhing on his tongue.

Eating you out like a man starved, he didn’t stop until he felt your thighs tense around his head, signalling how close he brought you with just his tongue. He’d like to think that he wasn’t a cruel man but the nasty look you gave when he pulled away had him second guessing himself.

You were more than ready at this point. Ready to start cursing at him if he didn’t fuck you right now, you opened you mouth for him beat you to the chase. Heaving himself upwards, he presses his chest against yours, inadvertently bringing his hips close enough for his dick to slap against your drenched folds.

Gripping himself, he wordlessly slicks up his length by rubbing it through your juices. Lining up with you entrance, he barely presses in and your hands fly up to dig into his arms. Not minding the bite of pain, Wolf didn’t stop you from digging in your nails as he slowly slid in.

Reminding yourself to breath, you took shallow breaths and forcibly relaxed your muscles to help take him in, ignoring the sharp sting of pain that paired with his girth.

Shoving his engorged cock into your wet hole, he didn’t hesitate to slide down to the root regardless of how tight you were. Tears rise to your eyes unbidden as he pushes his way into you, feeling like his cock alone could split you in half. Muttering a half-assed incantation under your breath, you banished the edge of pain away, unmasking the pleasure at being so completely filled.

His thick cock that filled every space inside of you so well, that you started to believe he was made for you. The same thought went through his mind as he begins to mindlessly pound away into you, loving the way your wet hole takes him so well and tightens perfectly around him every time.

The angle he pummelled into at had you seeing stars. You raise your hips to meet his a few times before he grabs the back of your right knee with one hand, pinning your leg up against your chest. A wrecked moan rattles you as the pose opens you up more, changing the angle and allowing him to hit even deeper inside of you, now experiencing fireworks.

“You like that, huh?” He growls roughly.

You couldn’t spare the breath to answer him back with him fucking the life out of you, instead you nodded helplessly.

A pleased noise rumbled through his chest. You were such a supple little thing, taking every inch of him like you needed it, no matter the pain it initially caused you. Such things stroked his ego, paired with the wrecked expression on your face and the fluttering of your walls around his cock, he was intrigued by you. Being impressed and interested in someone with his possessive nature was never a good combination, and he couldn’t stop himself from becoming enamoured with you while fucking you into the ground.

He litters your neck and chest with kisses, bruises, and bites that you knew would take a while to heal and vanish. The bastard was infamously territorial, you should’ve known that it would also translate into sex as well. Having half the mind to slap him for marking up, you couldn’t deny the way your heart leaped and pussy clenched around him with every rough suck he delivered to your soft skin.

He couldn’t let you go now he’s had a taste of you. He knew you would be perfect in tempering him, weathering his moods and give yourself fully to him like were right now. You already proved yourself worthy by not backing down or running away. Pupils blown wide, possessive thoughts consume his mind, devising different ways he could make you his. From the way you thrashed under him, shaky moans joining the symphony of your bodies colliding together, he conjured a way he could make you his.

Feeling him pull out was nothing of concern to your bliss-filled mind. It was when he didn’t slide back in that raised alarm. Opening your eyes, you blinked away tears from your sight to make out his proud-looking expression. Whining, you raise your hips up to force his tip to slide in further. Semi-Wolf denies you this by pulling his hips back further, removing his cock all together.

“Do you want me to continue fucking your greedy hole?” He says, eyes piercing through your soul.

Showing your frustration, you glare up at him and dig your nails into his arm, making him wince at the strong grip.

“Yes.” You hissed through clenched teeth.

He considers your answer for a short moment before moving his dick again. This time though, he merely sits it between your slick folds and rolls his hips. The position was perfect for his cock to graze against your clit, a moan slipped out before you could suppress it.

“What would you do for it?” He questions, rolling his hips again, putting more force behind it this time.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, the constant stream of stimuli from him rubbing against your sensitive bundle was overwhelming. Seeing that you weren’t listening to him, he stopped his motions and watched as frustrated tears gather in your eyes as he ripped away your building orgasm.

“I said, what will you do for it?” He leans down to your ear, teeth gently tugging at your earlobe.

Existence now solely staked on you reaching your peak, the words rushed out of you without a second thought.

“Anything.”

He smiles at that, a shudder going through your body at the beautiful sight. He flashes his canines at you, happy that you wouldn’t need any convincing.

“I was hoping you would say that.” He presses your mouths together in a relatively chaste kiss. Confused, you kissed him back with vigour and chased his lips when he drew back. “How about becoming mine?”

A flash of heat sears through your body at his question. Mind going in a hundred different directions, it gets thrown around into different scenarios. First you were making out, fucking and now he was asking you to be his? You literally just met the guy. While yes sex with him so far has been immaculate, you couldn’t just swear yourself to him at the drop of hat.

All these thoughts should’ve been enough to deter you, to encourage you to finish yourself off and walk away. Instead, the horny part of you overrode all common sense. A strong, attractive partner by your side with a drool-worthy dick? You didn't need anything more.

Hands cupping his cheeks, you graze your thumb over his bottom lip and pull him closer.

“Yes. Now fuck me before I finish myself off.” His eyes flash at your threat, promising you hell for that.

Sealing your fate, you fasten your mouth over his and slip your tongue into his mouth as he grabs himself and lines up with your entrance and thrusts back in like he never stopped.

Pace faster than before, you arched you back as his cock presses into you, feeling impossibly deep. Unforgiving now in his thrusts, he didn’t hesitate to make himself a place inside of you, needing you to feel him even when he was finished.

It felt like your veins were filled with molten magma as he repeatedly hit all your sweet spots without even trying. All of your arousal and pleasure amassed into a tightly coiled ball that sat low in your gut and grew with every growl and thrust he gave. This time you protected it with all your might, you’d most definitely curse him if he pulled the same stunt twice.

Wolf buried his head into the crook of your neck, panting into your skin as he pistons himself in and out of you, chasing his own orgasm to no end in sight. Scraping his canines along the column of your throat, you shudder around his cock and tantalisingly squeeze him. Rewarding how sensitive you were, he attaches his mouth to you and buries his fangs into your flesh.

It felt like a supernova went off of inside of you the very moment his teeth pierced your flesh, flinging your head back fast enough that you almost knock yourself out as Wolf fucks you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

His hips don’t falter their pistoning as you tighten up immensely, feeling like a second skin from the way you gripped at him. Blood filling his mouth, he greedily swallowed every drop of the sweet substance, not at all surprised that it tasted just as sweet as the strawberries you smelt like.

With one last thrust, he pulls out and gives himself three rough tugs before he finally spilled all over your thighs. He very nearly purrs at how he solidified his claim over you, his scent seeping into your skin strong enough for any non-human person with a decent nose would know exactly who you belonged to.

“Will you grant us passage through your woods now?” You asked, sarcastic words shattering the silent atmosphere that enveloped your bodies as you both recovered.

“Maybe. Depends what you’re scheming.” He glances over at you from the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn over.

“We’re going to take down the Demon King.” Semi-Wolf chokes on mid-air and whirls around to face you, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Are you serious? If you had started with that, I would’ve walked you guys through and joined the fight.” You bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. This whole time Semi-Wolf wasn’t the dangerous servant of evil you had him pegged for, instead he was begrudgingly guarding these woods. He must being doing it for something, albeit you didn't know what for.

“What did he do to warrant your anger at him.” You were blatantly curious. It wasn’t often that you were wrong in how you perceived someone, plus it was interesting to catch a glimpse into the life of someone who was close to the maleficent Demon King.

“He said my wardrobe was hideous.” Wolf grumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you.” You grin at him while cupping your ear and leaning in close. You had heard him perfectly fine, it was just fun to see this side of him.

Teasing him was much too fun, you were already getting comfortable around him. Who could’ve guessed he would be all soft on the inside? Elf was going to get a kick out hearing that. Whether he’ll believe you or not is entirely another story.

Annoyed, Wolf bats you away as you laughed at the pick blush betraying his stern look.

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no way you could lose with me helping.” A different, more gentle sort of warmth fills you at his claim, no matter how self-assured it may come across to some.

No longer wishing to antagonise him further, you simply hum in response. Not giving it a second thought, you slip your hand into his.

“Ignoring the fact that you destroyed my favourite dress,” Wolf had the common decency to look ashamed, withering under your harsh glare. “Were you serious when you asked ��”

“Yes, I was serious.” He cuts you off. A nervous look replaces his serious one, scratching at the back of his head as he contemplated his next words. “Look, it wasn’t a smart move to do that to you in the middle of… yeah. I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of you being someone else's. It's weird how connected I felt with you in that moment."

Looking away from the tree he was studying to avoid your gaze he was met with your stunned face painted a soft pink.

“You’re an idiot.” You say bluntly. Okay, he was definitely not the big monster you were led to believe. You almost felt like a fool for being so scared of him at the start.

“Hey!” He indignantly shouts, squeezing your hand as punishment for your insult.

“I’m joking, I swear it. It was a dick move but I forgive you.” Suddenly feeling shy, you look away from his intense eyes, not liking the way it felt like he could read your very soul. If Elf were here he’d probably scoff at you being demure after -

“Crap, my party! They probably think I’m dead.” You hurriedly get up and brush off the debris from your now short dress. A slight breeze picked up, causing you to shiver at the weird sensation of it caressing your bare legs and reminding you of the cum drying uncomfortably on your skin.

Ripping a piece of your sleeve off, you make quick work of cleaning yourself off as Wolf tugs on his pants. Seeing the way he eyes your legs, you narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head when he feigns an innocent look.

Giving the small glade one last look over, you both set off into the now clear woods. It took what seemed like a short eternity before you broke the tree line of the other side. On the other side, you find a pacing Goshiki, a bored-looking Elf and a peacefully dozing Ushijima.

Looking over at your sudden appearance, it took one sweep of Elf’s perceptive eyes to know what exactly had went down during your disappearance. You blush as he raises an unimpressed brow at you, ignoring Semi-Wolf’s presence by your side out of pure spite.

It took a bit to convince them that he was here to help and help he did. Armed with the scarily one-minded Hero and one pissed of Semi-Wolf, the crimson-haired Demon King didn’t stand a chance against them.

#semi x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #semi eita #shiratorizawa #haikyuu-bu!!#alternate universe - fantasy #alternate universe #he has ears and a tail and I was considering I may be furry for writing this rip #haikyuu!! fic #haikyuu!!#reader-insert #I'm probably going to fanfic author hell for writing this

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