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keiththecat · 2 years ago

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Admissible (Part Six)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've always hunted alone. That is, until Bobby sends you on a hunt near the Winchester brothers. How will things change when they come to help?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, cursing, groping/ almost sexual assault, self-doubt/ self-esteem issues, character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

Author's Note: WARNING This chapter starts pretty heavy with injuries/torture. If you have concerns about avoiding anything, please feel free to skip or message me. Hope you're enjoying so far! Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the love so far! <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

Part One

AO3 link here

Whooooosh!

Your face is hit with a large wave of ice cold water, waking you and leaving you gasping for breath. Your senses come rushing back to you and you’re taking in your surroundings all at once. You’re in a large concrete room, there are boxes and tables and shelves all around you. You’re sitting upright in a chair, the chair is bolted to the floor and your limbs are securely tied to the chair with ropes. You’re still in your clothes from earlier, but they are soaked now and you’re starting to shiver.

Standing in front of you and holding a now-empty bucket is a woman, she’s small in stature but carries herself with an air of confidence that borders on cockiness. She appears to be in her early 30s with long brown curly hair, and she is beautiful. Behind her slightly stands a large man, around Sam’s height but even broader. If Sam is built like a tree, this man is a Mack truck. He is bald, scowling, and standing with his arms crossed.

“Welcome back to the waking world, Y/N,” the woman says. “Sumus Noctis.”

We are The Night. Well that tells me nothing, lady, you think, internally rolling your eyes. Thanks.

The woman is slowly stalking back and forth in front of you, “alright, we’ll be nice and get the formalities out of the way before the fun part. I’m Valeria. This is Magnus. Yes, we’re demons. Yes, there are many more of us and no,” she stops pacing and grins at you, “no one but us will hear you if you scream. Any questions?”

You keep your mouth shut and face as blank as you can. You don’t want to egg her on, but you also don’t want to show any fear. Now that your brain is coming back to you, you send up a prayer and hope that you’ll be heard. Castiel, I’m in a warehouse somewhere. Demons called The Night. They warned that there are more of them but I’m stuck in a room with two.

Valeria sighs and tilts her head at you. “Well, Magnus, seems like we have a tough one. Or at least she thinks so for now. She’s all yours. Get her ready for questioning.” She smirks as she turns and walks out the only door you can see from your restrained position, leaving you alone with Magnus, who is stalking toward you. He pulls back his right arm and throws it forward, you feel a sickening crunch as your head is thrown back and your nose breaks. Blood is pouring down your front and choking you as you try to breathe through your mouth. You tilt your head forward, trying to keep the majority of the blood from going down your throat.

Magnus walks over and opens a box, returning to your side with a large knife in his hand. He brings the knife to your collarbone, digging in deep and dragging it across your chest at a downward angle, cutting through your shirt as he goes. Your breathing quickens, struggling to keep from giving in and making noise. You struggle in your restraints, hoping that they will loosen even slightly but to no avail. He continues making more cuts all over you, each kiss of the blade making it harder for you to remain quiet. He grabs your hair in his fist and forces your face to his, smirking as he grits out, “you will be fun to break.”

Unsure how much time has passed, you’ve lost count of how many cuts and hits you’ve received, and your body is now more wound and blood than skin. Your breathing has slowed, your body settling into its shocked state. You have still managed to deny him the pleasure of hearing any screams.

Magnus is now taking a moment and admiring his work. You make eye contact with him and he grins. He steps forward, still staring into your eyes, and he stomps on your left foot. Your breath catches in your throat, the bones in your foot crushing under his. You try to restart your breathing, holding back tears. The smile falls from Magnus’ face and he tilts his head as if he’s listening. That’s when you hear the sounds of fighting coming from behind the door Valeria went through. Magnus rushes toward you, cutting through your restraints and lifting you, holding you so that your back is against his front and you’re both facing the door. He has one arm wrapped across your chest and the other has his knife against your throat. “Try anything and you die, understand?” he says into your ear. You understand but don’t acknowledge him.

A few seconds pass before the door is opened, revealing the Winchesters. Sam is first through the door, Dean close behind him. Both are covered in blood, and you quickly scan them with your eyes for visible wounds. Both have busted up knuckles, you can see a small cut on Dean’s left forearm, and Sam has a small cut above his right eyebrow. Looks like no serious injuries for them, at least not yet. Best news I’ve had in a while. You allow yourself a small smile in relief. Both brothers have their pistols out in front of them, aimed at Magnus.

“Let her go,” Sam says, jaw clenched.

Magnus presses the knife into your neck slightly, breaking the skin and you feel blood start to trickle down. Sam meets your eyes and you swear you can see panic in them.

“Now!” Dean yells.

Suddenly you hear the flapping of wings and Magnus’ knife is pressed further into your neck for a quick moment before his arms release you. Without his arms holding you up, you fall forward. You hit the ground with a yelp, Magnus’ body falling behind you. You realize that Castiel has a hand on Magnus’ head, pushing him into the ground with a bright white light coming from Magnus’ eyes and mouth. You manage to push yourself away from them, dragging yourself along the ground. Cass stands to his full height, but your eyes stare into Magnus’ burned out eye sockets for a few more moments.

“Y/N,” Sam’s gentle voice comes from beside you. You turn your head to look at him, finding him crouched beside you. He has his hands in front of him as if he was reaching to touch you but stopped himself. He gives you a small attempt at a smile, “hey, you’re gonna be okay. Can we get you out of here?”

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around him and ignoring the searing pain that comes from this. Even under all of the sweat and blood on both of you, you can still make out the soul-soothing scent that is pure Sam. Smells like vanilla, apples, and cedar. He hesitantly puts his arms around you, scared to cause you more pain than you’ve already felt. You hold onto him for a few moments before pulling away to thank them all.

“May I heal your injuries, Y/N?” Cass asks you, holding a hand out toward you. You nod, and he places his fingers on your forehead. You are filled with an intense warmth, and then his hand pulls away. All the pain in your body is gone, and you feel more refreshed than you have in years.

“Wow. Thanks, Castiel.”

“Here, Y/N.” Sam says, holding his jacket out to you but looking away from you. You look down and realize that Magnus’ cuts left your shirt and jeans in complete shreds, and they’re barely hanging onto your body. You blush, taking the jacket from him and putting it on.

“Thanks,” you say, zipping the jacket up. “I have a lot of questions, but I’d honestly rather not stay here any longer, so clean up time?”

Cass flew back to the bunker, saying he would work right away to get the wardings back in place and hopefully even stronger than before. They offered for Cass to fly you back, but you felt safer sticking with the two brothers. Safety in numbers, you rationalized to yourself. You and the boys worked together to burn all the bodies the demons left behind, Sam and Dean insisting on doing the majority of the heavy lifting despite you being healed. Turns out Valeria wasn’t lying about there being more of them: there were close to twenty bodies to be dealt with. Unsure if there could be more coming, you all worked quickly to leave. It’s on the ride back to the bunker that you finally start asking questions.

“How did you guys find me?”

Sam turns in the passenger seat to face you. “Cass was able to see where you were when you prayed to him.”

You nod, “okay, yeah. Between that and the healing thing, I think I’m gonna need a rundown of what all he can do.” Sam nods, you continue, “do you have any idea who those demons were or what they want? They called themselves The Night.”

Both brothers shake their heads and Sam answers while turning back toward the front of the car, “no, we haven’t heard of them before and didn’t recognize them.”

“Time for some research then, I guess, huh?”

“Time for sleep,” Dean says, looking at you in the rearview mirror. “Cass may have healed you, but you’ve been through it. It’s late. We can rest and get back to it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay.” You respond, turning to look out the window. You don’t want to admit that you’re scared to be alone and sleep. You still don’t know why they could have wanted you. You had obviously heard of demons, but as far as you’re aware, you haven’t crossed paths with them before. Throbbing pain is present throughout your body. Your jaw is clenched, you swallow your whimpers and groans. Magnus is standing over you, dragging his knife across your flesh, tearing through layers, blood blossoming from the newest slash-

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice rouses you from your thoughts. You realize you’ve been so lost in thought, the trip is over and the Impala is parked in the bunker’s garage. Dean is standing next to the car watching you, Sam is in the front seat but turned toward you, worry etched on both of their faces.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Embarrassed, you quickly get out of the car and beeline for your bedroom. You very quickly grab some clothes and shower supplies, wanting to clean yourself off and also not wanting to spend any extra time in your bedroom. You keep your head on a swivel, constantly checking behind you. You make it to the shower room, debating on barricading the door but settling instead on keeping your eyes on the door and a knife within reach. You take a scalding hot shower, scrubbing repeatedly until your skin is red and angry. Deciding that you’re as clean as you can get, you dry yourself and get dressed in jeans and a tee.

Accepting that the last thing you want to do is lay down and sleep, you load yourself up with your weapons and patrol the bunker. Starting with the dungeons in the lower level, you take your time scanning every corner of each room. You jump when your phone vibrates with a text.

[Sam 11:08PM: Heading to bed. I’m across the hall if you need anything.]

He must think I’m in my room for the night.

[You 11:09PM: Thanks, Sam. Goodnight.]

You shake yourself and go back to your patrol.

Part Seven

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 2 years ago

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Fire and Flame {Part 09 of 09}

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Henderson Reader

Chapter word count: 1.7 K

Summary: Being one of the best cheerleaders from Hawkins High, you never knew a day in which you weren't one of the most popular and wanted girls in school. So, when you get the eye of Eddie Munson and start to spend way too much time with him, the school starts to think you're crazy for hanging out with a Freak... And some people decide to do something about it.

<- Previous part (08)

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Tomorrow

“LET HER GO!“ The yell is followed by something hitting you - hitting Jason -, and knocking you on down on the ground.

In the confusion, you were brought back to consciousness as if being hit but a bucket of ice-cold water. Disentangling yourself from Jason and gasping violently for air, you craw back towards the house, tears blurring your sight.

There are arms around you all of a sudden, and the first impulse is to push them away. But when you hear Robin's voice, you accept the embrace.

“Yes! Jason and his asshole friends are here!“ Someone says, and you turn your head towards the noise, coming from inside the kitchen.

“Alright, stop!“ Another shout.

“I'll kill you for touching her!“ This is Eddie. This is Eddie and that's when you recognize his shape in the dim light, hovering above someone else. Above Jason, who manages to throw a punch at Eddie.

Looking around, you find Steve and Dustin holding someone else down, and more to the left, Garrett and Jeff, and Nancy, with another of Jason's friends.

Nobody to stop Eddie. And he has to stop, or else it might turn on him.

“Eddie!“ You yell, the hoarseness of your voice making your throat burn. “Please, Eddie! Stop!“

He glances at you, then focuses on Jason for the last punch. You see it clearly, even from the distance and the darkness, that this last hit was with the right fist. The one covered in rings.

Jason groans, and turns to the side when Eddie gets up and leaves him behind to come back to you. He kneels, and you raise from Robin's arms searching his. “I'm sorry.“ He mutters, holding you tight against him. “I'm so sorry.“

Words don't come out, since you're still catching your breath. You just need him, holding you. You're safe in his arms.

“The police are coming.“ You hear Dustin says, as Robin gets up to help hold a very disoriented Jason. “Hey.“ Dustin kneels next to you. “You're alright. Ok? You're alright.“ He touches your shoulder and reaching your arm, you welcome him into the hug.

“Thanks.“ It comes out in a whisper, and you all sit there until the red and blue lights start to shine.

The policemen come with a lot of questions, of course, but after a quick look at your state, and the bruises on your face, neck, and torso, they decide to take Jason and his minions. But then, one spots blood on Eddie's hand and connects it with Jason's ruined cheek. And in we go, to sit in the living room to get things straight.

The Chief of Police said you could go shower and lie down, but how could you? No. Instead, you sit next to Eddie, his arms firm around you, as you and everyone answer the many questions.

Half the kids had their questioning when Officer Mills gets there, and she immediately takes over the situation. “Miss Henderson, could you tell me what happened?“

And so you tell her, all the details, as some tears roll down as you imagine what could have happened if Jason succeeded. “These policemen want to give Eddie trouble because of some punching. But who knows what Jason would have done to me? So don't blame my boyfriend for being mad and drawing some blood from the man who tried to violently kidnap his girlfriend!“ You raise your voice in the end, ignoring the burning in your throat, and taking another sip from the glass of water in your hands.

“Wait. You're dating?“ Dustin asks, bending forward on the other side of the couch to look at you. “Why didn't you tell me?“

“Really?“ Steve adds, and the others follow.

“We had the right to know.“ Robin speaks, crossing her arms

“Shut up!“ The Chief barks and almost everyone is startled. “That's not the focus here.“

“Certainly not.“ Offices Mills says. “We have a lot of witnesses here, and I believe all of you would testify if necessary, am I right?“ Looking around, you can't help but smile when everyone, every single one of them, nods. “Good. Mr. Carver won't be allowed to get any close to you, Miss Henderson, and to assure that, there'll be policemen following Mr. Carver. And that until we decide what will be done with him.“

It makes you feel better, and you nod, relieved. “Thank you, Officer.“

“You're welcome, Miss Henderson.“ With that, the Officer and the policemen leave, and you don't even have time to process things, because the party starts talking, all at the same time, about you and Eddie getting official.

And the truth is, in the confusion, you forget Jason and what just happened. You're happy among them, happy because they are happy for you, and some minutes, you just join the chaos, yelling that you were going to tell them just didn't have time. That goes on for almost an hour, and then you go take a warm shower and lie down.

It's almost 2 am when you're turning the lights off, climbing on the bed next to Eddie. His arms welcome you, and you feel yourself relaxing, tiredness making you close your eyes. “I thought he was going to take me.“ You whisper, your head on his chest. “I was so scared...”

“I'm sorry. I should know, (Y/N). I'm so sorry.“

“How could you know? The door was locked and we didn't think he'd try to break in, not with everyone here together.”

“I don't want to imagine it... What he'd do. Or what I'd do to him...“ There's anger in his voice like you've never heard before.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look down at him. “Don't. Just... It was awful, and I was scared, but it was over. We'll be more careful, and we'll focus on the future. Because I want–“

“I want you in my future too.“ He cuts you off, but you don't mind. It makes you smile, and it also makes you cry. “Hey, hey.“ Eddie sits up, pulling you into his arms again. “No more crying, please. I'll get the hell out of your life if you want me to.“

That makes you laugh. “Don't you dare, my Freak.“ Pulling away just enough to look at him. “Don't ever leave me.“

“Never.“ He says, more serious now. “I love you, (Y/N).“

Smiling, you kiss him, climbing on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you. I love you. I love you.“ You repeat, kissing him every time you say it.

And when you lie down to sleep again, you're sure of it. Of him, of the future you want. And you won't let Jason or anyone ruin it.

•••

The day is perfect. Not because of the beautiful blue sky, or the sunlight, or the fresh breeze. But because you're standing in your green graduation gown on the stage, with Eddie standing right next to you.

The Principal is calling one after the other to take the diploma and walk down the stairs to the place right in front of the stage for the picture of Hawkins 1986 class. You're called first, and before walking over to the Principal, you stand on your toes to kiss Eddie. The yelling is started by Dustin, who makes half the audience cheer too. Waving at the party, you walk over to the middle of the stage, take your diploma and raise it over your head. Nancy is positioned to take a picture, and when the flash is gone, you step down, taking your place and waiting for Eddie.

And soon enough, there he is, against all odds, taking his diploma and blowing you a kiss before rushing down the stage, running towards you and taking you in his arms, lifting and spinning you around. The Principal calls him and tells him to stop and settle down, but Eddie doesn't give a shit, and neither do you. You hear Nancy's camera, but that doesn't bother you. This moment has to be registered.

It takes some time until you settled down, watching as the rest of the class is called. Jason's friends are here, but he isn't. His family decided to move to another state after the scandal, much to your relief. But he'll have to answer for what he did, no matter where he is.

“Hawkins High School wants to thank you all for allowing us to be part of your lives and future.“ The Principal says, and everyone applauds for some seconds. “We also have the honor to announce that two students applied for the Tutoring Program, but only one was accepted.“ It makes you freeze all over. You didn't know another student applied, and now you're scared.

“Relax.“ Eddie whispers, taking your hand.

“Miss (Y/N) Henderson.“ The Principal says, and you look up. “Congratulations. Both Hawkins High School and the state of Indiana are glad to inform you that you were approved.“

A yell comes out of your lips, and at the same time, the party shouts too. Eddie picks you up again, as the others come from behind the graduating students, surrounding you. The Principal tries over and over again to tell them to go back, but nobody cares.

After the pictures from the entire class are taken, the ceremony ends and everyone goes their own way. You and the party stay though, finding your way through the woods until an open area with a wooden table.

There, the kids had a picnic set, which brought tears to your eyes. More pictures are taken, and then you sit down to eat.

“So. What are your plans now?“ Robin asks, taking a sip from her can.

“I don't know. We still have the Summer ahead of us. For now, I just want to chill and have some fun.”

“Actually...” Eddie says, and you turn to look at him. “I'll be working this summer...“

“Will you?“

“I got a job at Guitar Center.“

“What?!“ You shout, throwing your arms around his neck. Eddie was talking about that store for a while, the best store in Hawkins, and bigger than the one in Indianapolis. He loves that place. “I'm so happy for you!“ You kiss him, ignoring the audience and melting into his arms.

Eddie was right about 86. It's his year, and yours too. From now on, things will be better. You found true love in him, and you can't wait to see what happens tomorrow. And on the day after that, on the many years that lay ahead.

@browneyes528 @sophiaj650 @mmvnsons

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #imagine eddie munson #strangers things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things

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page150 · 4 years ago

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Fakers 🎭 Jamal Turner x Reader

Request: None

Pronouns: (none stated)

Word Count: 955

Warnings: talks of throwing up (not graphic), getting kicked in the head (not on purpose)

“Ten more laps boys! Move it!”

You watched as the football team ran more laps around the field. From the bleachers, where you were standing, you could hear their grunts and moans. All the boys wiped sweat from their faces as they continued to run. Their bright red football jerseys scattered across the ground.

“Y/n stop looking at them and focus.” Olivia whispered. She clapped her hands and moved to the left. The rest of the team followed while you missed your turn. Clapping and moving to the right. Accidentally looking straight at her.

“I’m not looking at them. I’m just looking at him.” You whisper back.

You turned your head and went back to looking at the one boy that was trailing the rest of the group. A few feet behind, panting and almost about to throw up was not the son of the coach.

“Clap and jump!”, yelled team captain, Ashley.

The girls went into position and did a synchronized toe touch. From your position on the ground you saw an array of skirts fly up and slam against their thighs. A cool breeze brushed against your cheek, but before you could wonder why the boy you had been watching was now laying face down in the grass or why your toe touch barely left the ground, a shiny white sneaker came crashing onto your head. The pain knocked you off your feet and left you on the ground. Faintly, through your watering eyes you could see your pom poms still in the air. The world was spinning in circles. Two Olivias quickly kneeled next to you. You reached your hand out and tried to touch the imaginary second one.

“Are you okay y/n? Someone get the coach! You’re bleeding!” She quickly said. She pressed her hand against your other hand, which was pushing down hard on your wound. The huddled around you and coach quickly came from her spot near the water fountain. She ran next to you and helped you to your feet. As you stood up your vision became blurry. You leaned against Oliva as she shielded you from the sun.

“We’re going to take you to the nurse, then call your parents. I don’t think you’re cut out for cheerleading.” Coach Abby said gently.

“Y/n I told you to focus!” Olivia scolded.

“I was focusing!” You slurred. “Just on the boy.”

You stumbled but made it to the front of the school. Opening the doors you felt the cool gust of the air conditioning hit your face. It felt good against your skin, sticky with sweat. You were helped down the hallway and placed gently on the exam table inside the nurses’ office. Olivia and the coach left to find the nurse. Leaving you by yourself. Still pressing against your wound, you close your eyes, trying to take your mind off the pain.

“Are you okay? You shouldn’t cry.” A small voice spoke up.

Turning your head you wiped stray tears from your eyes. Sitting across the room was the boy from before with a shiny metal bucket in his lap.

“I don’t know why I said that. You look like you’re in pain. I’m Jamal. Jamal Turner.”

For a second you blanked out. You were covered in dirt and sweat. Your head was bleeding and he was talking to you? Also, who introduces themselves with their last name.

“Um, I’m y/n… I saw you throwing up.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Why did you say that? All the things you could’ve said and you said that. He heaved and ducked his head into the bucket. Luckily, nothing came out.

“I saw you get kicked in the face.” He replied.

“Yeah, I’m not really good at cheerleading. My mom just wants me to do it.” You shrug.

Suddenly he placed the bucket on the floor and sat up.

“That’s crazy, I only play football for my dad.” He said excitedly.

“No way,” You laughed. “You break too many bones, how would you play?”

“I fake injuries.” He stated.

“I fake injuries too!” You shouted, moving to the edge of the table. “Like when I supposedly twisted my ankle.”

“What! I thought that was real! What’s your secret?”

You lean in a little closer. “You need to have witnesses and plan them out. One big injury can get you out for a month or two but act like you still need to heal from something minor as well. How do you get the casts to look so real?”

“I have an emergency injury backpack that has real medical stuff.”

“Wow, I’ll have to make one.”

Jamal smiled and looked into your eyes. He turned to a desk near him and reached into the fridge beneath it. While your legs were still swinging over the edge of the exam table, hand pressed against your head, he tossed you an ice pack. You sighed as the coolness of the frozen ice pack (delicately wrapped in a paper towel so it doesn’t get too cold) calmed the throbbing.

“I can make you one! Maybe you can come over to my friend Ruby’s place. You’re friends with Olivia, right?”

“Yeah,” You started. “But your friends seem a bit intimidating.”

“They're losers, it'll be fine. Plus you're cute, and everyone would fall for you! But please don’t date Caesar. He doesn’t need a bigger ego.”

You laughed and felt your face start to get warm. Looking back at him his face was getting warm too.

“Don’t worry, a certain someone was the reason I got kicked in the head.” You joked.

He looked down and laughed, but as soon as he started laughing he quickly reached over and got the bucket.

Author's Note: Wow so it's been awhile and this isn't that good, but I just wanted to post something. My account has been growing at a pretty nice pace and thank you all for 40 followers! I am seeing that a lot of you are enjoying my posts and I am very happy about it! <3 if you would like something to be written then please dm me! (no smut, age ups) Please like, follow, and remember requests are open! I hope you have a wonderful day ~c’ k

#page150 #page150imagines #omb #on my block imagines #on my block #monse finnie #ruby martinez #ceasar diaz #jamal turner #jasmine #reqs open #request #reader #jamal turner x reader #writing #latrelle

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juletheghoul · 4 years ago

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Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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

Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

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chocominnie · 4 years ago

Text

Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you. ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.” The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

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genshin-impact-writings · 4 years ago

Note

Tall iced tea with hazelnut and whipped cream for Ayaka please! (You don't have to answer if your not sure! <3)

Hey there, dear anon! Thank you for your request. As you probably know, this was my first time writing for Ayaka, so I really hope it turned out alright. Anyways, here's your drink: a tall iced tea with hazelnut syrup and whipped cream on top. Please enjoy!

Reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Prompts: angst, unrequited love, “Stay with me. Please.” + “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

All I needed was the love you gave – Kamisato Ayaka x gn!reader

Growing up in isolation, only surrounded by the members of her clan and the countless rules of courtesy she had to learn by heart, had never been easy for Ayaka. The Kamisato Clan was one of the most prestigious families in Inazuma, and while she was proud to be a part of it, she couldn’t deny that she sometimes wished for a more ordinary life. A childhood filled with laughter and meetings with friends instead of lessons about history, etiquette and conversations to turn her into the well-spoken, elegant young lady she was today.

Maybe that was the reason why Ayaka enjoyed being around you so much. With you, she always felt completely carefree and relaxed, almost as if your mere presence was enough to make her forget everything that bothered her. Aside from Thoma, you were her only friend, the only one she could rely on, no matter what happened, the one she could trust without having to worry that you’d tell her secrets to someone else.

She knew that she got overly attached to people way too quickly because of her upbringing and often times scared them away with her behavior but with you, none of this mattered. Things were different. Over all these years, you had gotten so close to each other that you were familiar with all her little quirks, and she was absolutely sure that you’d always be by her side. A few years ago, you had even promised her to stay with her through thick and thin. It still brought a smile to her face when she thought about it, making her heart beat faster every time.

It had taken her some time to realize that her feelings for you had changed, that she had started to see you as more than just a friend but, in the end, all that mattered was that it had happened. And she was absolutely sure that you shared her feelings, although neither of you had confessed yet.

But maybe today would be the day. Just by the way you looked at her, your pretty eyes filled with insecurity, she could tell that there was something you wanted to say. She smiled at you and reached out to gently squeeze your hand in a reassuring manner. You gazed back at her but when you tried to return her smile, you failed.

“Is there something bothering you?” Ayaka asked softly and when you didn’t reply, she added, “You can tell me everything, you know that, right? Besides, this day is way too beautiful to worry, don’t you think so?”

It was a beautiful day, indeed. The sun warmed your skin, the sweet scent of the Sakura trees’ blossoms surrounding you as you enjoyed the rare moments of free time. Ayaka had joined you a while ago to keep you company, just as she would normally, but today, you actually wished that she’d be somewhere else. It was hard to focus on your decision when she was sitting so close to you, beaming at you like you were the most precious thing in all of Teyvat. How could you tell her that you knew about her feelings for you and didn’t feel the same? It was nerve-wracking and you had no idea if you were really ready to break her heart but at the same time, you knew that it wasn’t fair to lead her on.

“I’m fine,” you replied eventually, although you were sure that your lie wouldn’t convince her at all. “Really,” you reassured her when she raised her eyebrows, giving you a questioning look, “you don’t need to worry about me.”

Ayaka shook her head and reached out for your hand once again, frowning slightly when you pulled away. “Sorry,” you said. “It’s just… listen, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Gone was the genuine smile on her lips that was exclusively reserved for you. “I – I don’t understand.”

You laughed, a nervous, artificial laugh that could turn into crying if you weren’t careful. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “This isn’t the right moment, I never meant to tell you like that.”

The expression on her face turned soft, almost tender, the confusion slowly fading from her gaze. “Tell me what?”

You could her the anticipation in her voice and suddenly, you realized that she expected you to say quite the opposite of what was actually on your mind. You gulped. All of this didn’t make it easier for you to finally tell her the truth but you really couldn’t live like this any longer. She deserved to know how you felt about her, even if it meant that you had no other choice but breaking her heart. Eventually, she would surely find someone who loved her the way she deserved – at least, that was what you tried to tell yourself.

“I know that you love me,” you said, carefully choosing the words that came out of your mouth. “I’ve known It for quite some time now but I never knew how to address it.”

“Oh.” Ayaka watched you biting your lower lip, her heart beating so fast and loud that she was sure you were able to hear it. Was this the moment she had been waiting for? Her hands felt sweaty but she resisted the urge to wipe her palms at her dress, not wanting you to realize how nervous the whole situation actually made her.

“The truth is…” You hesitated for a few seconds and took a deep breath before continuing, “Ayaka, you’re my best friend and you are so, so important to me but I – I don’t love you. Not like you love me, at least. I’m – I’m sorry.”

It was weird, really. Ayaka had imagined this moment so often that she could barely understand what you were trying to say. In her dreams, you had always wrapped your arms around her, whispering sweet love confessions into her ear as you held her close. But your words weren’t what she had expected to hear at all.

“I don’t love you.” The words kept echoing in her mind, repeating themselves over and over again. “I don’t love you.”

And all of a sudden, Ayaka felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water right over her head. Her heartbeat was still frantic as she stared at you with wide eyes, trying to comprehend that the love of her life was rejecting her after years of being so close.

It hurt. It hurt so damn much that a part of her wanted to forget her good upbringing and slap you across the face to make you feel at least a friction of the pain you were causing her in that moment. But her rationality was stronger. She wouldn’t bring shame upon her family by losing her temper here in the garden of the Kamisato Estate where everyone could see and hear her.

“I understand,” Ayaka finally replied, proud that she managed to make her voice sound as calm and composed as usual. “I apologize if any of my actions made you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, no, that’s not – Ayaka, please, that’s not what I wanted to imply.”

With a sigh, she shook her head. “You don’t need to explain it to me, (Y/N). You don’t share my feelings and I have to accept that. I am not mad if that is what you’re afraid of.”

You shifted in your seat, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. Perhaps you had expected her to break down and cry but she wouldn’t do that, not in front of you, not this time. “Ayaka…”

“Maybe it is better if we don’t see each other for a while,” she suggested, still surprisingly calm, and your eyes widened in shock. “No, please,” you said, reaching out for her hand as she got up. With pleading eyes, you looked up at her. “Stay with me. Please. We need to talk about this, we can’t throw our friendship away like that.”

A sad smile flashed over her face. “I can’t be your friend right now, (Y/N). Please respect that and let me go.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. You had never meant to destroy the friendship the two of you had but now you realized that you had messed up, and suddenly, the sun didn’t feel warm on your skin anymore. “So, this is goodbye?”

Surrounded by the sweet scent of Sakura blossoms, Ayaka pulled her hand away, careful not to make eye contact with you to hide that she was at the verge of tears, too. “Yes,” she whispered. “For now, this is goodbye.”

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos, @childe-support, @rim0na

#ayaka x reader #kamisato ayaka x reader #kamisato ayaka imagine #genshin impact x reader #ayaka genshin x reader #ayaka genshin imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin angst #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #ayaka x you #ayaka x gn!reader #reader insert

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cheegu3 · 4 years ago

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Hi! Could I request a yandere blackpink reaction to punishing you for running away from them? Thanks!

~ Yandere Blackpink scenario ~

^ punishing you after you try to run away

This one’s a bit long ;-;

TW / Trigger warning: Yandere themes, abusive relationships, violence, swearing, blood, sexual themes

Jennie

You were on your way to freedom, only a few meters away. But of course she already knew about your little plans and you were tugged backwards by the exit. She was pulling your hair, harshly, and when she had pulled you inside fully she let go and slammed the door. Making sure to turn back to you slowly and dramatically. It was dead quiet. You were needless to say, terrified, knowing what was about to come.

“ you really think I didn’t know? “ she said and pursed her lips. She looked pissed.

You didn’t have a choice, falling down to your knees you could only hope she would accept your apology and spare you.

‘‘ please baby I’m so sorry ‘‘ you cried your eyes out already, with your breathing steadily increasing.

She only smirked down at your hunched over form by her feet. She was enjoying this a bit too much.

‘‘ You know what will happen don’t you? ‘‘ she said and hunched down at eye-level with you.

You were so so screwed. She would torture you for hours since she enjoyed it so much but there was also somewhat hate in every hit or cut she delivered to you. You wanted to get away from her...how could you!

Jisoo

A week after you had escaped with Jisoo furiously chasing you down for hours, you woke up one morning being handcuffed to the bed. You see, Jisoo had been giving you the silent treatment, being too angry to even talk to you because you made her biggest fear come true..that you’d leave her. Foolishly enough you thought there wouldn’t be a punishment, there had been a week after all and that the silent treatment was it. Until, you woke up that morning.

‘‘ Wake uuuup ‘‘ She said in a singsong voice and smiled down at you.

She was sitting on your stomach, a complete different mood from last night for example when she was still ignoring you.

‘‘ Jisoo? ‘‘

‘‘ Shh, you see that? ‘‘ she looked to the clock on your right.

You being completely clueless seemed to irritate her because you got struck across your face shortly after.

‘‘ It’s 5am, do you remember what you did at 5am a week ago...You tried to run from me ‘‘ She said.

‘‘ I- ‘‘

‘‘ You don’t know how that made me feel so now I will make you feel the pain I felt ‘’ she suddenly brought out a sharp large knife that glinted in the light.

And she went right for it without hesitating leaving you in a pool of blood afterwards. She didn’t feel bad, you deserved it and pushed her too far this time.

Rosé

She had been locked up in her room for hours now. Screaming her lungs out and you felt terrible. You had never seen her this heartbroken before, she was throwing things, screaming and crying. After a few more hours, which you spent in the dining room with her guards closely watching your every move, she finally opened the door to her bedroom.

‘‘ You can come in now ‘‘ she said in a fairly normal tone which surprised you. You couldn’t help but think that it was as if her emotions were like a light switch in this moment. Her puffy cheeks and red eyes were the only proof of her even crying at all.

You hesitantly made your way up the stairs and she followed you into the room, closing, and..locking the door behind her. You looked around at all the smashed things on the floor and turned around to see her watching you from her place on the bed now.

‘‘ Rosie, I’m really sorry. You know I am ‘‘ you began, not really sure what to say.

She patted on the bed for you to sit and you did as you were told. She smiled slightly tilting her head.

‘‘ I have to punish you, you’ve been bad y/n ‘‘ she said in a cold voice that sounded nothing like your usual girlfriend.

‘‘ Punish me! What Rosie...? ‘‘

But the look on her face didn’t change she was giving you a fierce glare.

‘‘ Get over my knee, y/n ‘‘ She said, and a single tear fell down her cheek.

In that very moment she looked terrifying. It would be the first time she’d punished you in the relationship. She would not hold back.

Lisa

She was really fucking pissed. Being a delusional yandere, you trying to escape was like being hit with a bucket of ice cold water. She would hate herself for not making you fall for her but most of all, she would hate you.

‘’ I’d suggest coming with me before you make me even angrier ‘’ she said and nudged you first down the stairs. Only she was really angry and might’ve actually pushed you on purpose. Naturally you tumbled down the stairs and landed at the bottom, already feeling broken with blood coming out of various cuts, but she was nowhere near done with you. You sat up, vision slightly blurry and groaned when the pain started to kick in. She walked the last few steps down to where you were.

‘‘ I want you to think about what you’ve done ‘‘ you looked up at her, tears already streaming down your face.

‘‘ And, when you’re rotting in your own filth I want you to remember. You can never survive without me ‘‘

Then she turned around, walked upstairs and slammed the door, locking it. And you were left in complete darkness.

#yandere blackpink #yandere kpop #kpop #kpop yandere #kpopidol #blackpink #kpop imagines #yandere

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cherrycocaineee · 3 years ago

Photo

19. Sam Winchester - Hospital Visit

It was extra busy today at the hospital, there were three patients in need of major surgeries along with a line of people either waiting at the clinic or waiting for their minor surgeries to take place. I had been running around all morning wherever I was needed, and since I was the lead surgeon that was pretty much everywhere. Every time I got the chance, I glanced up at the ticking clock that was mute amongst all the loud chatting and alarms going off. I needed to hang on til three, and then another head surgeon would be here to help. I wiped the forming beads of sweat off of my forehead as I headed to the bathroom, wanting to escape from all the chaos that was hitting. Of course I loved being a doctor but I wasn’t made for such large groupings like this. It sent anxiety through my body causing me to sweat. So I just needed a small break to calm my nerves.

Pressing my back against the cool wall felt almost painful against my hot, sweaty skin. I was just praying silently that I was wearing my doctor’s coat over a turtleneck sweater, stopping most of the chilling pain. Finally catching my breath after fifteen minutes, I pushed myself off of the wall, the cold no longer bothering me, and headed back into the jungle that awaited outside. Not much time passed before my Nurse, Lacy, ran up to me.

“Doctor,” she said, her voice frantic and filled with worry, “come quick, there’s two new patients in need of medical treatment.”

Nodding curtly, I followed after her quickly to wherever the patients were. There weren’t many rooms open, so when we did eventually find them, they were in the last two rooms. I went inside the first room, the room that was closer to us, and peered inside at the man lying on the hospital bed. My eyes widened at the sight of John Winchester, an old family friend from way back then. He was covered in slash marks, fresh blood that still needed to be cleaned off of his unconscious body. He was also covered in sweat, glass, and dirt.

Lacy looked up at me.

“Bring me a rag,” I muttered, “and some warm, soapy water.”

Nodding, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I took another glance at John Winchester then headed out of the room, silently praying that the other person in the second room wasn’t one of his sons.

But I wasn’t lucky. Lying in the next hospital bed was his older son, Dean. I frowned, my forehead creasing slightly. Like his father, Dean was covered in blood, sweat, glass, and dirt. He would need to be cleaned up as well.

“Doctor.”

Looking up, I spotted my nurse standing at the door with the bucket of water and a rag hanging over it.

“Thank you. Please, get another one for this patient.”

“Of course.”

I took the bowl from Lacy and headed back into the room where John was waiting. Sitting beside his bed was Sam, also covered in blood but not as much as his dad and brother. His eyes met mine, widening as he saw my face.

“Noel?” He questioned, his voice soft and surprised.

“Hey Sam,” I replied, placing the bowl down.

His eyes shifted to the ground. The last time I saw the Winchester’s was when I was twelve years old. I was a year younger than Sam. Out of the two Winchester boys, Sam and I had become close. I knew all about their hunting and everything they did.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” I asked, grabbing the cloth and beginning to clean John up.

The blood wiped away easily, revealing his tanned up, scarred skin.

“I’m not so sure that’s a great idea,” he admitted.

“Maybe not, but I still think you should tell me.”

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating inside his head whether telling me would put me in danger. It probably would but I could handle myself. Finally, he told me what happened. They had gotten into a fight with a demon, one who called herself Meg, and these shadow things came out of nowhere attacking them. They were practically defenseless, their only saving grace was light. That’s how they were able to escape, along with throwing Meg out a tall window. By the time he finished telling me what happened, I had finished cleaning his dad up.

Placing the cloth inside the now bloody water, I faced Sam.

“Is she dead?” I inquired.

“We think so,” he huffed, his hair shifting with the breeze escaping his lips, “but we’ve never dealt with a demon before so we’re unsure.”

Nodding quietly, I started stitching up the large gashes displayed on John’s body. Lacy was right, he did need quick medical attention but not so much that he needed to be placed in the operating room. Not while there were people who needed surgeries on their brains waiting, or even their stomach. This was an easy fix.

I could feel Sam’s eyes watching me while I sutured up his dad. Clipping the final set of stitches, I got rid of all the leftovers, then washed my hands.

“I’m going to Dean’s room,” I muttered, “he needs more care than your father, so I’ll need more time to deal with him. Wait here.”

Sam didn’t argue, he just nodded his head.

Taking care of Dean’s injuries were much harder than I had realized. He was losing lots of blood, and no matter how much of it I tried to wipe away, there would always be another rush of it pouring from the wound. So I had to deal with the large, several gashes that covered his body. Fixing him up took me almost three hours. When I was finished with him, it didn’t seem to matter, he was in a coma from the amount of blood he lost. I wasn’t sure he was going to make it and that was going to be hard to tell Sam and John.

Lacy informed me that John Winchester was now awake, so now I was heading to his room to give them the bad news. Some doctors would call it semi-bad news but that didn’t really make any sense to me considering. I walked into John’s room, seeing him speaking to Sam, neither of them looking happy about whatever was being discussed. Sam was first to spot me.

“Dad,” he said.

John turned to face me, and at first I wasn’t sure he’d recognize me but when his eyes widened, I knew he did.

“Noel,” he said, “it’s been a long time.”

“It sure has,” I replied, smiling, “it seems you guys got yourself into a pickle.”

“Seems that way.”

I walked completely inside the room, my hands folded together.

“How’s Dean doing?” Sam inquired.

My heart felt like it was hammering against my chest but I tried to remain professional.

“I’ve stitched him up, and cleaned up his body. However, he’s lost a lot of blood and is now in a coma,” I informed, sadness lurking in my voice, “right now, it isn’t looking so good. If he doesn’t pull through soon, then I would start preparing for the worst.”

“Noel,” Sam said standing up, “he has to come back.”

“There isn’t anymore that I can do, Sam. Had he’d been brought in earlier, maybe, but he’s lost way too much blood. We’re replacing it, he’s getting round the clock treatment and blood is being added to his body through an IV, but that’s all we’re able to do.”

He looked away from me, his eyes noticeably filling with tears, then grabbed his jacket and walked out of the room. A soft breeze brushing against me as he passed me. John didn’t say anything to Sam as he left. I sighed and walked over to John, removing a small flashlight from my pocket.

“Let me have a look at your pupils,” I muttered, “how are you feeling?”

The bright light danced across his now dilated pupils.

“Much better,” he replied.

It was quiet for a moment before John spoke again, asking about Dean.

“He was in really bad shape, huh?” He asked.

“Yes,” I muttered, removing the light from his eyes, “I wish there could be more done but right now, all we can do is wait and see.”

John’s eyes looked away from me, staring down at his covered legs. I could tell he was feeling bad about what he did to Sam and Dean, specifically Dean since he was in a coma now. I stuffed the flashlight into my doctor coat, taking another look at the oldest Winchester. All three of these boys were tough as nails but everything seemed to be shattering right before their very own eyes.

“I know this is hard, Mr. Winchester,” I replied, “but I promise you, I’ll do what I can to help Dean get better. For now, it’s best if you pray for his healing.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod. Something seemed to be brewing around in his head, so I left after giving his shoulder a small squeeze. After leaving John’s room, I went to go look for Sam, taking a final look at Dean in his room. A small pang in my chest rippled through me before I headed off to find the youngest Winchester.

I found him sitting outside on the hospital steps. The breeze was starting to pick up, ruffling Sam’s hair along with my own. I walked over to him, my white shoes slapping quietly against the concrete. Sitting down next to Sam, I watched him look over at me. I folded my arms around my stomach and looked away, watching the hundreds of people walking around. Either lost in their own world or talking with someone who was with them. I didn’t want to say anything that would anger him or cause him to get up and leave.

“It’s all my fault,” Sam whispered.

My head snapped towards him, shocked completely at his sudden admission to guilt.

“How so?” I inquired.

“If I hadn’t gotten mad at Dean, if I hadn’t ran into Meg, then we would have never been tricked into this situation.”

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. My long, jet black hair waved in the wind.

“Sam, you couldn’t possibly know that Meg was a demon. Like you said before, you guys have never dealt with one before so how are you supposed to know the difference between one of them and a girl. I mean look around you.”

Our eyes scanned the area around us, watching the people who caught our eyes do what was normal: eating ice cream, talking, laughing, walking, etc.

“Anyone here could be a demon but how could we know?”

A soft sigh escaped from his lips.

“All I’m saying is, there’s no need for you to worry too much. Dean is a fighter, I’m sure he’ll pull through. However, if he isn’t, then you can’t walk around blaming yourself. It’s not what your dad would want and it’s definitely not what Dean would want.”

I touched his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Sam smiled back before nodding.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Of course I am. I’ve never been wrong.”

A laugh left his mouth, colliding with the wind that was picking up more and more. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. Soon Sam and I were discussing how life had been after we departed so long ago. I learned that Sam had previously gotten out of the whole family business, hunting things to attend college at Stanford to become a lawyer. He had only joined back up with his family because his girlfriend, Jessica, was killed by the same demon that killed his mom. Yellow eyes. It had its ups and down, constantly worrying about one another and the consistent fighting back and forth. Dean was ultimately too childish and took any opportunity to pull a silly prank on Sam. But, according to him, it wasn’t all too bad since he missed his brother a lot. And now that he and his dad were together again, he remembered that he loved him too while disagreeing with him like he had when he was younger.

Once he was finished catching me up on how his life had been going, I told him about mine. How my mother passed away a year after they had left, inspiring me to go to medical school. I had also been engaged for a little while before finding out that my fiancé was cheating on me behind my back. The rest of my life wasn’t much to gossip about, considering most of it was just me going to school and being cheating on.

“Despite everything though,” I replied, “I enjoy what I do and hope that I’m making a big difference every single day.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling my pager buzz beside my hip. Pulling it from beside me, I saw that Lacy was paging me, letting me know that another lead surgeon had arrived and that I could go for lunch. Standing up, I held out my hand to Sam.

“Wanna get some coffee with me?” I inquired, “It’ll help clear your thoughts. Maybe you can figure out a way to help Dean behind bringing him to the doctor.”

I hoped that he caught on to what I had to say. By the smile that appeared on his face, I knew that he did. Taking a hold of my hand, I pulled him to his feet and headed across the street to the small coffee shop where I normally went when I was able to have a small break. On the way over, the two of us talked with one another and laughed at stories about each other's life. It was nice to reconnect with a friend from so long ago. Sam and I had always been close to one another when we were young. And on the way to the coffee shop, I hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time I saw Sam. And hopefully under much better circumstances than the one that brought us together today.

#sam winchester #sam #supernatural #spn #sam winchester x female!reader #sam x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester one shot #supernatural imagines #sam winchester fanfiction #fluff #sam winchester fluff #imagines #one shot #fanfic #sam winchester x reader #smut #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut

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shreddedparchment · 5 years ago

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.36 - End

A Chance Meeting

08/08/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 10,158

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, creepy dudes

A/N: The end. 😭 I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs. REBLOGS are always welcome.

*pictures relay only style of clothing and not physical appearance/race

Silken sheets that are cool to the touch. A roaring fire. The heartbreaking smell of peony blossoms.

A wooden bucket—your wooden bucket—full of ice-cold water.

A chill warmed by a feverish heat wrapped around your back.

All of these thoughts-no. They’re more like memories.

All of them have come to you over the course of a year.

They grow more elusive as they come.

Before you thought you could almost see a garden with an ocean of pink peonies in varying shades of blush to wine.

Now, after months of having these strange visions, they have become condensed into single colors at random. The most frequent is a shade of gold. A circle of blue.

You think these memories might be important but you cannot grasp onto them long enough to make any sense of them.

There’s also the fact that you know they cannot possibly be memories.

You have never seen a garden of peonies.

You’ve had plenty of chill in your life but a warmth like the one you’d recalled at the beginning of the year when the winter cold had been at its worst is as unfamiliar to you as the looming manor on the hill above the village.

With a small groan, you stop and set the bucket down. Your arms are strong enough to carry it but after so harsh a winter, you’d be a fool not to take care.

You’d only just managed to make it out alive after devoting so much time to your little one.

You suppose the golden hue you keep remembering is similar to your baby’s hair. Just a shade or two off. Just as beautiful.

The estate sits looming at the peak of a hill that sits almost a mile away from the village.

The manor itself, you can see, has been expanded. It has the appearance of a small castle now with towers and battlements. The parapet walls that now surround the structure offer crenels to whatever guard the now small castle may need.

It had sat there abandoned for so long, the lord once given task to watch over it and Bright Rise as well as several other small villages in this part of the kingdom having left.t

With the primary building made of wood, the added masonry has really given the old place new life.

What magnificent furnishings must it have? Gilded and ornate probably. Chairs worth more than everything you own.

What type of person has taken residence there? Is it someone you’d know?

Someone beautiful probably. A handsome lord and his gorgeous lady. Both of them probably members of his Majesty King Anthony’s court.

Do they have children? A young little lord or lady running around causing mischief.

You find yourself smiling, made happy by the image you paint in your head.

It makes you only a little sad that you picture yourself there. Your baby in your arms. Your husband…

My husband?

Silly…You don’t have a husband.

But you yearn for something you very nearly miss. Something you know you should have. Something…precious.

“Hello there, little mouse.”

You gasp, startled out of your daydreams and turn on your heel in search of the horrible voice.

With a stuttering heart you spot Phin, standing with his grimy hands in his tattered pockets.

“What do you want?” You ask him, voice cold but wavering as you grow wary.

Already you’re searching with a quick glance for the nearest route of escape.

You hunch over, grabbing your bucket and attempt and fail to stifle your groan of effort.

Phin lunges forward, his hand thrown out towards you. It makes you flinch. You keep your eyes shut as you wait for the blow.

It never comes.

Slowly you peek, searching for Phin's extended hand and find it wrapped around the rope handle of your bucket.

“What are you doing?” You ask, confused and fearful. “Let go.”

“I can treat you right, little mouse. I can give you proper protection. I’ll even pretend that bastard brat of yours is mine.

“I’ve been patient. I may not be able to wait much longer.” His voice is like sludge, creeping down your spine raising chills of terror as it goes.

You yank on the handle, urging him to release it. You meet his gaze, matching his threat with your own angry stubbornness.

You will not give in to him. Not now. Not ever. Even with your little one…you can’t.

He keeps holding it, refusing to let go until you feel like you’d rather drop the water and come back for more later.

He drops the rope and you stumble back a step, not having realized how much you were actually pulling on the bucket.

Some water spills but you’re just thankful to be free of Phin and you rush away to be even further. A glance back when you’re close to your small home shows you Phin still standing where you left him.

He’s watching you.

You hate him.

Getting inside, you shut the rickety door tight, resting your forehead against the splintered wood as you wait for your heart to stop pounding.

From behind you a sudden “goo" chases the tension and fear from your body. Your shoulders relax.

With a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you turn in search of the cooing source.

Nestled into a bed of hay, covered with a thick blanket of navy fabric, is your little one.

A hair of golden hair and eyes as blue as the deepest ocean have enraptured you. Stolen your heart and changed your world.

“Are you finally awake?” You gush, moving to place your bucket by the crumbling and unlit fireplace before you make your way to him.

His chubby little legs kick away his tunic. A plain brown piece of linen you’d stitched together to keep him clothed.

At six months, he’s nearly outgrown it.

When you offer your arms, he throws his weight to his left until he can roll onto his stomach and then reaches for pivots towards you.

Sliding your hands underneath his arms, he grabs you and you lift him up then place several kisses to his chubby baby cheeks.

He's gorgeous, your baby boy. His smile is sun bright and the gleam in his eyes is sharp and observant.

The expressions he wears on his little face are familiar. They pull and tug at something too but you can’t focus on it long enough to care.

Your boy is your world and that’s all you need to know.

“Is my sweet boy hungry?” You wonder while moving for the bucket of water you’d lugged into the hut.

You dip your hand in and for a moment relish in the feel of the water on your hand. A sudden desire to be submerged in steaming hot water that smells like a spring garden overcomes you, but it’s gone by the time you gently swipe across your little one's face.

He protests you cleaning his face. Whining a little and twisting in your arms until you’re done and wait with both arms supporting him for his sputtering to stop.

He looks at you and after taking another moment to overcome his displeasure, he smiles again.

You chuckle and move to grab the swaddling blanket you’ve set aside for his use alone and sit with it in your lap as you lean back a little to expose your breast to feed him.

A song you feel you almost dreamt slips from your lips in a soothing hum. With your eyes shut you can almost see a beautiful gown sweep around your feet.

Strong arms hold you close as they lead you around a crowded room.

The image is like a dream too, part of the song you’re humming. You’ve never been in so vast a hall, tables laden with food and the satin gown you wear is softer than any rag you’ve ever worn.

No. You’ve never been bathed in such luxury.

This hovel is your home with its mostly dirt floor, loose cobblestones shoved around in spots you’d set aside to keep dry.

No windows. A door that hangs off its hinges. A straw bed. A patched roof.

As your son feeds and you allow your mind to put away the dream of nice things, you assess the hut you’ve made your home.

You’re almost certain that you’d had it in better condition before. The door had hung straight, the rickety fireplace had been sturdy and homely.

The floor had been more even. Your straw bed had been less lumpy.

You’d had another small shelf with your plates and cups. Your sewing kit safely stored in the cupboard below.

Your home had not been grand but it had been comfortable. It had been yours and you’d cared for it delicately and made it a sanctuary.

When had it changed so much?

As you attempt to remember when this place fell apart your mind is forced to confront several other unanswered questions that you seem to think on often but always forget.

It’s almost as if the thoughts are pushed from your mind until they are brought to the surface once more.

The one question that started it all…the one that had made you pause. You still remember the miller’s wife, staring at you at the small grocer's shop while you waited to pay for your bushel of potatoes.

“Oi, orphan. How much longer ‘til you have the babe?” She'd asked, her eyes narrowed as she considered your swollen belly.

You'd stroked it, smiling fondly at the little life growing within you.

“A fortnight.” You’d answered, happy and content despite your poor living.

“Ah, and who's the father?” She'd asked, then waited as your smile slowly fell.

You’d stood there for a few minutes, waiting your turn but lost in thought at the question that had never once occurred to you in the seven months since your belly began to grow.

“I…I don’t know.” You’d admitted to her and her eyes filled with a solemn worry.

“Looks like they finally cornered you. Didn’t get a look at ‘is face?” She'd wondered and it was then that you realized what she thought.

Your precious baby, your little growing bean, was the product of one of the village men forcing himself on you.

But it wasn’t true!

As you sit with your son in your arms, rocking him back and forth as he eats, you know without a doubt in your mind that your son was made with love.

You can feel it within your very soul. There was passion and love and devotion in his making.

A golden aura, warm and encompassing that gave you your own little ray of sunshine. But even though you know this you cannot see his father.

There is no father. Only your Joseph.

He stirs in your arms. You find him smiling, finished with his meal. And just like that, your thoughts are lost to his special allure.

“All done?” You ask him and he yawns.

You begin to wrap him up in the blanket you’d made for him and bring a basket from the corner of your hut.

It’s a decent size with straps sewn into the wicker so that you may put it on your back.

You place it before you, balanced between your legs and gently lay Joseph within. You make certain he's wrapped up tight and kiss his cheek before you fit a domed lid on top.

The lid covers his head and keeps him safe from the summer heat.

“We'll check the traps and then come right back.” You promise him and lift the basket onto your shoulders, listening as he coos long baby words that say nothing.

It’s like he’s talking to you, the quiver of his voice moving up and down with inflection as if he knows what he’s doing.

He takes a breath and then starts again, “Oooh-awhhhh-wahhhhhh-ooooohhhhhhh…”

You can’t help but smile, your skin greeted by scorching sun as you start your trek into the trees behind your home.

“Let's check the traps by the pond first, then we'll check the bog by the road.” Joseph coos along with you.

~~~~~~~~~~

The view is spectacular.

It’s downright scenic from up here so high on the hill. Even if the beautiful valley is slightly tarnished by the village below.

It’s part of the reason he decided to keep the purchase.

Several months ago, Steve had found the deed to the manor on Sunbright Hill.

He'd sat for nearly an hour while he'd considered the paperwork, trying to remember why he’d made the purchase of such a dilapidated plot.

The lord that had once resided here had apparently vacated when he'd married a lady of considerable wealth but she preferred the Capital city to Bright Rise below so, they’d left and never come back.

Slowly the manor began to rot and the village, without its caretaker, had also fallen into poverty and corruption.

The farms were all but dead. Only two were still in use and had the season failed once in the past few years, the village would have surely fallen.

“Steve?” Bucky sighs, moving into the renovated den.

Steve stands by the large arched windows behind his massive oak desk.

The chair is angled towards the glass, distracted as he's been lately, he can’t seem to get any work done.

“Steve?” Bucky says louder.

Steve blinks, pulled from his brooding to notice his friend. He turns and waits, saying nothing.

“She's here.” Bucky smiles.

Steve’s heart gives an eager stutter as his own bearded face breaks into a wide smile.

“Where?” He asks, moving towards his oldest friend.

“She’s with Nat in the dining room. She was hungry.”

Steve is already out the door, stomping with wide steps down the hallway, then another and another, down a staircase then to the east side of the manor towards the dining room.

It’s a long room, a table long enough to sit at least forty people takes up most of the center space.

Each wall has been adorned with tapestries and paintings, an iron chandelier with sixty candles hangs at the center of the room, currently unlit.

Instead, windows on both sides of the room sit open, a cool breeze blowing in to cool the manor from the summer heat.

As Steve thrusts the doors open, he spots a grouping of his closest friends. Sam, Wanda, Pietro, Peter who is actually squatting beside the chair they are all surrounding, and Natasha in the one beside it.

In the chair is a cherub. An angel. A literal princess dressed in pale pink. Her golden hair, a shade darker than Steve’s is pinned back on one side with clasp of small and ornate white peony blossoms.

“Maggie!” Steve calls, the honey in his deep voice soft and flowing as his heart swells in his chest.

The toddler turns her head, searching aimlessly as his voice echoes around the room. Her right hand full of jelly and toast as she’d sat munching, she now opens and holds her fingers wide as she isn’t coordinated enough to recognize when the food has fallen from her tiny grasp.

Everyone is watching her, despite the presence of their King and Steve cannot blame them. Her eyes find him and she releases a high squeal of excitement before she turns in her seat to take hold of the arm.

“Wait, Maggie, your hands are a mess.” Nat says, her voice full of amusement.

But little Maggie has no patience for cleanliness with her papa so close.

“Papa!” She screams, turning to look at him as she stands on the chair.

Her lips wrap around the name with a slur, her talking improving but still just beginning.

Nat continues to wipe her hands as Steve laughs and moves for her, arms extended.

Maggie bounces on her feet excitedly. Her pink dress swishing with every move.

As he reaches her, she allows herself to fall into his arms and he catches her, spinning her once as he presses a long kiss to her cheek.

Maggie laughs, her hands wrapped around Steve’s head so tightly that Steve wonders if her strength is increasing or it’s just his imagination.

“She has been asking about you all week.” Nat says, rising and then turning to Bucky as he approaches her to give her a kiss.

“We'll give you some space.” Wanda offers then moves around the chair towards the exit.

Steve stops his turning to watch her go, Pietro following.

“Will you be going back to Broklin?” He wonders, wondering if the twins only came to escort Maggie.

“No. We'll visit with Tony.” Pietro nods, then both of them stop at the door and bow before heading off at what must be Pietro’s run.

“How was the journey?” Steve worries, turning his eyes on Nat.

“It was fine. She was a little fussy last night but as soon as I explained that we were coming to see her papa, she converted her energy to enthusiastic impatience.” Nat chuckles. “She really has been asking for you. ‘Papa where?’, ‘Where Papa?’, ‘Papa, Papa, Papa…’. It’s almost as if it’s the only word she knows.”

“She’s never been away from him for so long.” Bucky observes, both he and Nat watching as Maggie places her little hands on Steve’s cheeks, her fingers exploring the edges of his beard while Steve admires her little face.

“I’m sorry, my treasure. I just wanted to make sure the manor would be ready when you arrived.” He tells her.

She seems to understand as she tilts her head to one side and throws her hand up, bent at the elbow as she babbles a string of words only she understands.

“Do you forgive me?” Steve begs.

Maggie giggles sleepily then leans forward to lay her head on his shoulder.

Steve strokes her tiny back, caressing her hair a bit as her eyes begin to close.

“How long will you stay, Nat?” Steve asks, his voice dropping a bit in volume to respect his sleeping toddler.

“Long enough for you and Sam to go and come back. Bucky and Peter will help me with Maggie.” She nods, looking for her faithful friend and Knight.

She spots him in another seat, head in hand, elbow on the table as he dozes lightly.

“He's been doting on her.” Nat explains. “Too much, perhaps?”

Sam huffs a laugh as he crosses his arms across his hard chest, tugging on the crimson tunic he’d quickly dressed himself in this morning.

“He’ll be angry we went to visit Morgana without him.” Sam observes and Steve can’t find it in him to deny it.

The romance that had bloomed between them had seemed to come out of nowhere for him.

In the back of his mind when he’s been laying in bed with Maggie beside him, he can almost remember a conversation about their eventual marriage. When he brought it up to Nat—he was fairly certain the topic had been discussed with a woman—she admitted to the thought never even crossing her mind.

She’d praised the match and teased Peter afterwards, but it has left Steve with another unanswered question.

So many…so many strings that he’s tried to pull on only to find the way blocked.

Maggie coos in his arm, another bout of baby babble in her sleep that pulls him from his pondering.

“We’ll head out in a few hours.” He tells Sam who straightens up and nods. “I would like to go now, but I want to spend a bit of time with Maggie before I leave her again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours with Maggie turned into thirty minutes.

The longer Steve sat with her in his arms, the more eager he was for her to wake.

He’s missed her but knows that she’s tired so in an effort to get the visit over with and return to his smiling princess, he tucks her into her crib in his bedroom then hands her care over to Nat who sits by the window while Bucky sees them out.

“How long will you be, your Majesty?” Bucky wonders, keeping pace with Steve’s quick and long stride.

“Not long. I’ve only to invite him to the ball in two weeks and we’ll return. I’m certain we’ll be back before dinner.” Steve assures him. “I hear you and Natasha are considering adopting a child?”

Bucky smiles. “There is another option, one that Natasha is most eager to try but I think I’ve convinced her to reconsider.”

Steve regards his friend skeptically.

“Truly, I think I have. She met with a witch a few weeks ago and apparently there is a way for Natasha to regain her ability to have a child.” Bucky explains, his expression a little darker.

Steve’s confusion is evident in the narrow of his brow. Despite his curiosity, he keeps his eyes fixed ahead as they move along the south hall to the stables.

The fall of their shoes echoes along the empty corridor, still only half decorated as it was only finished a few days ago. Steve can still smell the fresh clay between the stones underneath their feet.

He’ll have carpets put in to quell the sound.

“Isn’t that what you both want?” He wonders.

Bucky shakes his head. “I want her to be happy. She thinks I want a child of my own. Naturally my own. But I don’t care if the child is mine by blood. I just want to love her.”

“Magic like that of which she speaks comes with a hefty price.”

“That’s why I refuse to accept it.” Bucky sighs, the worries of his world evident on his shoulders.

“The price is too high?” Steve wonders, finally looking to his friend.

“We would be granted the ability to have our own child, but the mother would have to relinquish years of her own life. Five is what the witch told her. So, if it were Nat’s fate to die at the age of sixty, five years would be taken from that and she would die that much sooner.” Bucky laments, shaking his head in denial. “I cannot condone it.”

Steve sees his friend thinking things through, biting his lip as he wonders if he should speak what has consumed his mind aloud.

He gives in, “I know that it’s her choice. If she should want to do it, I only have some say in it. If having a child truly born of us both is what would make her happy then I would have no choice but to comply, but I would rather adopt a child who we will both love as our own anyway and have my wife for five years longer.”

Steve’s heart gives a painful ache.

Something in Bucky’s words makes him sad and breaks his heart.

My wife…Steve repeats in his head, the memory of feeling proud at that very thought overtaking his senses.

“Is it Margaret again?” Bucky wonders, stopping as they reach the end of the hall. “You’ve got that look on your face again.”

Steve reaches up to stroke the spot on his chest where he can feel his heart beating. Every thump it gives sends more agony into the pit of his stomach making his head hurt.

Is it Margaret? Steve doesn’t think so.

The first time someone had asked him if it was Margaret he was mourning he admitted it was because it was easier than to tell his friends that no, it wasn’t his dead wife he was thinking of. In fact, he wasn’t sure who it was he was thinking of.

He shuts his eyes now, overcome with the sweet scent of oils. Lilac and juniper. Peonies. Fields of them. A garden full, just like back home.

A smile flitters past his sense. The image nearly chokes him. A laugh. A pout. A tear stained face made blurry as he can’t recall its beauty.

Maggie in womanly arms, pressed gently to her breast.

These elusive images that skim his mind are not Margaret. Everyone seems to ignore that Maggie is too young to be Margaret’s or perhaps they simply don’t care?

It’s almost a silent agreement that Maggie’s mother is not Margaret but who exactly she is, no one cares. No one will think on the possibility long enough for it to matter.

Even Steve loses focus after a few second of torment.

Even now, as his heart breaks painfully, Bucky puts his hand on his shoulder and gives him a shake.

Just like that, the images that pained him only moments ago are gone.

Steve smiles, breathing in deep before exhaling in a huff.

“I’ll be quick. I want to be back before it’s too dark.” With a nod from Bucky, Steve hastens his way into the stable.

Sam already has his horse saddled and waiting.

He hops on, adjusting his posture as he takes the reigns then turns to give Bucky one final wave.

“Keep my daughter happy until I return.” He orders.

Bucky waves them off and watches until they clear the large gate.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands are shaking with rage. Yet another night with nothing caught.

All of your snares are in fact, broken. A deliberate cut made to the wire you’d spent so much money on.

You think you know exactly who it was that came out to ruin your work. There’s only one person who would benefit from sabotaging your efforts to feed yourself and your boy.

The image of Phin standing across the field from your home, staring at you is burned into your mind.

If it weren’t for Joseph, you would happily starve before you accept Phin’s hand in marriage.

As it is, it isn’t only you. In order to feed your son, you must eat. With no one coming to you for mending—which you are also sure is thanks to Phin’s interference as it has only been happening the past few weeks—you have no money to buy anything. No grain. No bread. No meat.

If you do not eat, your son will starve.

You clutch the broken snare in your hand, squeezing so tight you can feel the wire dig into the palms of your hand.

Were they not so rough, you may have cut yourself.

You take a quick peek at the basket carefully nestled between the rough trunk of tree and large berry bush. Your little one still dozing peacefully and safely covered by the basket’s lid.

While he sleeps, you know you must be quick with the snares by the bog. It isn’t too far so you decide to let him sleep in the shade and make your way through the trees to the road’s edge.

It’s a very short walk. Should he cry you’ll hear him perfectly and be able to run back to him in less than ten seconds.

The sun beats down on the road here and the bog is nearly dried over from the heat of the summer sun.

Normally the mud within is a thick sticky paste that one can easily be caked in. You even remember fetching a purse for the old woman who used to care for you when you were little.

As you stop by its edge, you wonder where the old woman has gone. You attempt to recall the last time you’d seen her but the last memory you have is fetching her purse from the mud pit.

Forcing her from your mind, you look to the two snares you’d set up between two trees and right at the edge of the bog.

The one at the edge has also been cut. You kick it angrily before you move to the other and find that it has also been tampered with.

“Fuck!” You mutter, hating Phin with every fiber of your being.

You try to picture him beside you, laying claim over you as his wife. You think on the life you will live, trapped in your home, and expected to fulfill his every whim, wish, and desire. He will rule you with a heavy hand, command you to obey, and take what he wants from you with violence if need be.

Terror roots you to that spot between the trees, hunched over as your hands shake with anger at the lack of options for you and Joseph.

There is the other choice, the one you’ve refused to make because where might you go? Here in Bright Rise you at least have a roof over your head.

Soon fall will come, then winter after that. If you choose to leave, you might be condemning yourself and your son to a death by freeze and you can’t do that. You can’t make such a reckless choice with him so little still.

You gather as much of the wire as you can, carefully wrapping it around an empty spool you’d kept just in case, hoping to keep your anger from shifting into sorrow.

As you work, you can hear the sound of hooves behind you. Two horses at most. Perhaps three? The sound of shifting gravel too close.

There’s the clearing of a throat before a steady voice speaks. “Excuse me, might I trouble you, miss for some directions? My guard and I seem to have become lost in these backroads by the village.”

You sigh, still consumed with rage with Phin, but rise and turn to face the man who addresses you.

He’s godly, this man with golden hair and a beard to match. His eyes are piercing. Storm blue as they stare you down and you fidget with the spool in your hand as your heart does a sudden and unexpected dip into your belly where it explodes into a flurry of butterflies.

Voice choked in your throat, you look away from the beautiful man and tried to clear your head.

“His Majesty, King Steven has asked you a question, miss.” His guard says, shocking your system into an automatic curtsy as you intentionally avoid their gaze now.

“I’m sorry!” You gasp, worried you might have given offense.

“Sam, it’s alright.” King Steven says, his voice soft and coaxing.

You take a quick peek at his guard, another handsome man with deep umber skin and a soft bronze glow. His gaze is a little sterner but kind all the same.

“We did not mean to startle you.” King Steven says, the gentility in his voice luring you into taking another look at him.

When your eyes meet, you find that you can’t look away.

“I-I was checking my traps.” You relay, feeling stupid suddenly for giving him information that he has not asked for.

“I can see that.” King Steven nods, a small smile tugging up half of his full pink lips.

He’s exquisite. His dress is fine, luxurious satin and silk. His tunic is a royal blue, a silver stitching along every seam in what looks to be a small wavy pattern.

It looks familiar and your hand absentmindedly moves with the pattern of the stitch as if it remembers how to make it though you’ve never sewn on anything so fine in your life.

King Steven’s eyes notice the movement and he watches your hand before you remember yourself and speak again.

“Forgive me, your Majesty, you asked me a question.” You gasp, dropping the spool at your feet and moving around the mud pit to stand at the edge of the road, much closer to where he and his guard tarry.

King Steven smiles again, sending your heart into a pitter patter.

“If you head down this road, you will reach a fork with three smaller roads. You’ll want to take the Eastern most road for nearly four miles before you reach a second fork of two roads. Take the left and follow that road and do not stray. You will reach the Capital before noon.” You say, pointing as you give instruction.

As you finish you drop your arm and bring your hand to tug at the worn leather of your belt.

King Steven stares at you, smiling for so long that you look down at your feet and are suddenly aghast by the state of your shoes and skirts.

You’re so dirty that you’re ashamed to be seen by them. With a bite to your lip, you turn and hurry back around the mud pit to pick up your spool.

“Thank you.” King Steve says, his wide shoulders relaxed. “Might I pay you for your assistance? What is the customary amount? Five silver pieces?”

You throw out your hand to stop him, embarrassed to take payment for so small a favor. “No!”

Gasping you watch as the spool flies out of your hand. It hits the front of his horse then topples onto the road where it rolls along further down the rocky path.

King Steven dismounts as you rush forward in chase of the wire.

Both of you reach it at the same time but King Steven is first to bend over and take it.

“Oh, please…” You gasp, worried about the dirt and muck that must be caked on the tool. “You’ll dirty your hands.”

As King Steven stands upright, he dusts it off then offers it to you. “A little dirt never killed anyone.”

Your senses are assaulted by him and for a moment all you can do is stare at his hand as he waits for you to take your wire.

He smells like evergreen woods and oranges. No…limes…You’re not sure! It’s a citrus of some sort and it overwhelms your mind. His voice is deep and smooth. It works its way into your bones and nearly turns them into jelly.

“Will you not take it?” He asks, shaking the spool a little.

You look up to meet his gaze but find that his smile has disappeared. In its place is a look of severe concentration.

Is he angry with you? Have you insulted him by waiting so long to take your property?

The look in his eyes is intense. He looks almost as if he’s trying to recall an elusive memory.

You know the feeling…

Quickly you take the spool, ignoring the moment your hand brushes his. He must notice how rough your hands are. He must mix with ladies whose hands had never once known the strife of physical labor.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” You curtsy quickly, avoiding his gaze and move around him.

A hot, vice-like grip takes hold around your wrist.

You stop, turning to look at his hand then up to meet his gaze.

Gone is the look of confusion, replaced by a furrowed brow and what can only be hopeful searching within his storm blue eyes.

“Steve?” His guard warns, confused by the moment almost as much as you are.

“What are-” You whisper, voice so weak you’re surprised you can manage to speak at all.

You clear your throat and search for the courage to say your piece.

You don’t like this. The way his presence almost consumes you. His touch is burning, and you’re not sure why you feel as if you’ve also been waiting a lifetime for it.

“Unhand me.” You plead, twisting your wrist in his hand but refusing to look away from his slowly shifting expression.

He smiles and your heart stutters, fear of what it might mean making you yank a little harder, but King Steven uses the momentum of your pull to step towards you. He wraps his free arm around your waist, dipping his head down as he presses fevered lips against your own.

You’re frozen in his arms, wide eyes staring at his own now shut. His lips are fierce, his kiss is hard. It hurts a little and it takes you a moment to feel the warmth of their touch.

He drops your wrist and wraps his other arm around you, hand pressed to the back of your head as he tilts his own to one side and coaxes your lips open with a gentle swipe of his tongue.

The taste of him stuns you, your body freezing as your mind is assaulted with images all blurred together into one precious life that you’d most assuredly lost and now found again.

Your eyes grow blurry, tears flooding from the corners as your lips finally respond to Steve’s kiss.

With a gasp you pull away, sobbing once as you gobble up the sight of him.

Steve’s hands caress the sides of your face, stroking your hair and cheeks as he also devours your visage.

“I found you.” He whispers, throat tick with emotion.

You sob once more, arms pulling him towards you as you give in to the shocking relief you feel to be in his arms once more.

Your heart breaks as you clutch him close. Over a year of lost time with not only him but…

“Maggie!” You exclaim, voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s perfect,” Steve assures you, pulling back to meet your gaze once more. “She’s growing bigger every day. She has your sweetness, your love of jams and jellies.”

Steve laughs, so happy that his own tears fall too. “She calls me Papa, and she calls Sam birb.”

You laugh, shaking your head already knowing that Bucky’s to blame for that.

“I don’t think it’s that funny.” Sam suddenly says, pulling both your gazes towards him.

“Sam…” You smile.

“I’ve kept watch over her, just as I promised.” The recognition in his eyes is heavenly.

“How did this happen?” Steve asks, continuing the caress of your cheeks. “How did we lose each other.”

You sigh, licking your lips as you prepare to explain when your heart suddenly drops, and you remember another pair of storm blue waiting in a basket. “Steve…”

Without warning you turn and race into the trees, running as fast as you can to make sure that he wasn’t a dream.

You find the basket where you left it and pull it away from its hiding spot before you remove the lid, happy to find your little boy still fast asleep.

“Y/N!” Steve calls, racing up behind you where he skids to a stop. “What is it, my flower? What’s the matter?”

He sighs heavily when he finds you, moving to place his hands on your shoulders, needing to feel you it seems.

“Don’t run away from me like that…” He pleads, and your heart aches for him but this is much more important.

“Steve,” You begin, and turn to reveal the six-month-old baby in your arms. “You have a son.”

The step back he takes you attribute to shock. The heartbreak and confusion on his face you have only yourself to blame for.

“How-?” He asks, shaking his head as he stares at the tiny prince in your arms.

“Steve…” You begin, suddenly fearful of what he might say when you confess the deal you’d made with grandmother.

“No.” Steve cuts you off, reaching out to trace the shape of your arms through the dingy dress you wear. “Not here. Let’s go home.”

“To Broklin?” You wonder, relieved that he’s eager to resume your lives together.

“No, I-do you remember when I asked you if I should purchase your little hut?” Despite speaking to you, his eyes are still trained on your son.

Slowly, as he speaks, his hand skates across your arms until he can stroke Joseph’s little cheek with one tentative finger.

“Yes.” You frown, disapproving of the purchase as it isn’t your land to begin with.

“Well, when you forbade me from buying it, I bought the manor on the hill instead.” He confesses, finally meeting your gaze.

“Oh.” You’re stunned.

“I thought that it would be nice to have somewhere in Malibia to call our own. Visiting your family is something that I wanted you to feel free to do. I wanted to give you a space you could come to, somewhere near your home.” He explains sweetly sending your heart into a tizzy.

“Steve…” You reach up, pressing your palm to his warm bearded cheek while keeping a firm hold of your little one with the other.

“Come on.” Steve urges you, leaning down quickly to kiss you then pulls away slowly almost as if he doesn’t want to. “Our princess is waiting.”

~~~~~~~~~~

She’s as beautiful as the night you’d held her close, memorizing the little wheeze in her breath as she’d drifted to sleep.

She’s bigger. She’s walking, unsteadily but moving. She’s talking, indeed saying ‘Papa’ but she says other things that you’ve already picked up on.

Her little chubby limbs have stretched a bit and you can’t believe you’ve lost so much time with her.

Tears are still streaming down your cheeks while you sit here, staring at her sleeping face.

Steve’s hands support her little back as he holds her to his chest, his back resting against the ornate wooden headboard of your bed.

“She’ll know you soon enough.” Steve assures you as you nod and quickly wipe the tears from your eyes. “She was so little.”

“I know.” You reach out, caressing her little head before you look down at the even smaller boy between you both. He’s chewing on his fist, little legs up in the air as he quietly plays by himself.

He’s so good at just being alone, you feel terrible about it because you know that it’s your fault. You’ve needed him to be independent as you worked hard to earn money for both of you.

When he meets your eyes, he coos those long wordless streams of vowel. He’s talking to you, probably relishing in the plush mattress all four of you lay on.

“Shh, my sweet boy. Your sister is sleeping.” You stroke his little chest and he takes hold of your hand as he kicks his legs in excitement.

“Y/N…” Steve begins, and you know it’s finally time.

“I’m ready now.” You sniffle, meeting his look of somber confusion. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

It takes you less than five minutes to explain. Grandmother’s vision. Her actions to see it in greater detail. The truth of his imminent death. You tell him that you begged for his life and that night when Grandmother had interrupted your sleep, she’d come to tell you that she’d found a solution.

“She said the magic would ask for payment. Something that only I could give.” You hope that he doesn’t hate you, his expression unreadable as he watches you with his brooding brow all scrunched and focused. “I thought that it would be my ability to see or walk. My hearing perhaps? Or being able to speak…I never thought that it would take you and Maggie from me.

“My life perhaps? But not my memories of you. Not knowing you.” You sigh, waiting for his rage to show.

What you get instead, is a calm conversation and a gentle pout.

“But it wasn’t only your memories. It was everyone’s. The magic wiped your existence as my wife and Queen completely.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Even the villagers in Bright Rise acted as if I’d never gone anywhere. How can magic be so powerful as to erase me completely from so many minds?”

Steve shakes his head, his hand still absentmindedly stroking Maggie’s back.

“It was such a risk for you to take.” Steve frowns, his gaze piercing, and the guilt you’d felt building since you’d stepped foot in the manor crests. “How could you make such a choice without consulting with me? I’m your husband.”

“I know.” Your lip trembles. “I’m sorry. It all happened so quickly, and I had so little time to consider the consequences of my choice. All I knew was that your future was certain. You would die protecting the world and I could not give you up to it. If I had the power to save you, of course I would use it. So long as I knew that Maggie would have you, I could stand any future I had to live.”

“Even this one? Both of us separated forever?” Steve counters, holding a mirror to the past year of your life.

You shake your head, new tears springing forth as you look down at your boy who has fallen asleep once again.

“I thought I would have to marry Phin.” You admit, voice quiet so as not to disturb your little ones.

“Why?”

“I’m fairly certain he was orchestrating it. No one in the village were taking work from me to mend their clothing and today, you found me checking my snares for small game, but someone has been breaking them. Cutting the wire or simply tearing it down.

“He wanted me to be hungry enough to marry him and the bastard knew that I would do it, for Joseph if not for myself.” Your anger taints your vision red, Phin’s detestable face a memory you wish you could forget.

Mentioning your son brings Steve’s eyes back down to him. He takes one hand and reaches down, placing his finger into Joseph’s tiny open hand. He grasps his papa’s finger, a tiny fist full of surprisingly sturdy strength.

“Now that we’ve remembered, I’m panicked by the idea that you might have found a new Queen in my absence.” You confess, chewing nervously on your lip.

“Bucky and Sam suggested it. They brought Sharon around me often to try and convince to take her on, but something prevented me from doing so.” His words send your heart into your feet, your head is suddenly splitting.

Glad as you are that he doesn’t seem to have found a new wife, the possibility of it make you feel almost sick to your stomach with anxiety.

“I think perhaps I knew in some way, deep down, that I was already married. The very thought of sharing my bed with someone else drove my skin to crawl. I felt guilty, as if I were committing some grave sin.” He admits, unrelenting in his stare.

“I would not have blamed you…” You whisper, almost fearful to speak the words. “…if you had taken a new wife. If you’d had another child with someone else. I would have had no one to blame but myself.”

“No one could ever take your place.” He assures you. “Even though I didn’t remember you, your presence was greatly missed. I may not have known what it was I was yearning for, but I was wishing for you every moment of every day.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pleasure his words give you to soak deep down into your bones.

Even though he doesn’t ask, you’d also felt the exact same way. Something had always told you that somewhere was a home waiting for you to take your place. Never would you have guessed that it was a castle in the next Kingdom over.

“Were you frightened?” Steve wonders, drawing your gaze once more.

You find him watching Joseph once again, his thumb stroking the little one’s hand.

“Expecting him all on your own?” He clarifies.

“I was afraid of how I’d take care of him.” You smile, reaching to stroke the length of his little nose. “I knew I would be alright birthing him. It was long and taxing. But he was with me so suddenly. It was over before I even knew what was happening. The miller’s wife came to check on me and she helped me for a few days after, but I had no other choice than to push on. I was up and caring for him and myself before the week was out. That’s when my fear came.

“I knew that I had to feed myself in order to keep him fed and healthy and I wasn’t sure exactly how to do it with the village set so resolutely against me. An unwed mother with a bastard child?”

“I’ll have it burned to the ground.” Steve declares suddenly.

You smile wide, your heart melting as you watch the intensity in his gaze as new love blooms for his son.

“I wish you had spoken with me about Agatha’s vision before you made any decisions.” Steve laments, an anger growing in contrast with the new love.

It effectively wipes aware the happiness his love gives you as you regret having kept him in the dark.

“If I’d told you,” You begin, voice breaking and weak as emotion gets the better of you. The sound of it brings his gaze back to you and he seems to soften with it. “You would have kept me from doing what needed to be done. There was no question of saving you, Steve. I had only just found you. Our baby girl only just born. I could not lose you.”

Shutting your eyes, you let your head fall, burying your face into your pillow.

“Imsuhsawree.” You sob, muffled against the fluff of the bed.

The silence feels endless until you’ve just about made up your mind to look at him again when a sudden snort of laughter cuts the tension with ease.

You whip your head to face him, searching for the source of the laugh only to find Steve with his hand over his mouth as his body shakes with silent laughter.

“You’re laughing?” You gasp in disbelief; certain you must be seeing things.

Your husband cannot possibly be amused in this moment while your heart and soul are drowning in guilt and grief.

“I’m sorry.” Steve chortles, a whisper of giggles as he tries his best not to wake Maggie. “Forgive me, I…”

You frown at him, displeased with his humor but he reaches for you with his hand and hooks it behind your head in a soft caress.

“It’s not funny.” You insist.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “It isn’t. I’m sorry, my flower. I’m just…so happy you’ve returned. I’ve missed you so much.”

And just like that, he’s forgiven.

The four of you lay there in bed for hours. Though your stomach is empty, you refuse to bring your hunger to Steve’s attention. Even though you know very well just how much he will be upset with you for it, you can’t bring yourself to tear your little family apart so very soon.

The sun is only just setting when Joseph decides it’s time to eat. He whimpers, a soft murmuring of whiney breaths until the air takes shape and his cries begin to grow louder.

Beside him Maggie also stirs, staring around with wide eyes as the crying rises in volume and she’s brought out of her blissful slumber.

Steve wakes last, while you are already scooping your little boy into your arms and propping yourself up against the headboard to feed him, he rubs his face and glances at the window.

“It’s already so late.” He realizes, turning back to you and Joseph while Maggie twists her body until she can lay on her stomach and then throw herself back to sit on her bottom.

Her eyes are glued to Joseph as he latches to your breast and begins to suckle. Your breasts are sore, and the pain is worse than you remember it being with Maggie, but you have no time to focus on the pain.

You make sure he can eat easily, watching him for any signs of distress.

“Did you get her a wet nurse?” You wonder, letting your eyes drift to Maggie who still sits watching you feed her brother.

“I did.” Steve nods, lifting the girl back up onto his lap. “She was so little.”

You look away, a quiver in your bottom lip as you try to push past the heartbreak that you hadn’t been there for your daughter like you’d wanted to be. “Yeah.”

Steve is familiar with you enough that he knows you don’t want to dwell on it and changes the topic quickly.

“Shall we have dinner in here? I don’t want to share either of you yet.” He confesses, stroking the back of Maggie’s little head.

“Yes.” You nod, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically at the mention of food because Steve frowns.

“Damn it, Y/N.” He gripes and gently places Maggie back on the bed before he marches towards the doors. “If you were hungry, you should have said something. After your meal, I’ll have Natasha draw you a bath.”

The prospect of a full belly and a luxuriously hot bath which you hadn’t realized you’d grown so fond of is so dreamy that your heart gives a clench and once more you feel so very happy you just might cry again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s your bath, my petal?” Steve checks, moving to the edge of the bed once more as the children sleep on.

After their dinner they’d quickly begun to play. They’d explored each other’s boundaries and Maggie had made Joseph cry only once for a few minutes before they were sharing Maggie’s soft cloth dolls.

They each sleep with one in their hands, huddled close together at the center of the bed.

“Is the water too hot?” Steve pulls over a small yellow footstool, sitting upon the soft cushion.

He doesn’t wait for your answer and dips his left hand into the water, testing the temperature as you lay yourself back against the large copper tub.

“Your hand is going to smell like peonies and rose oils.” You tease him, bringing your hand up above the fragrant water.

You take a peony petal and carefully tuck it behind his ear, gentle drops of water skirting down into his beard as the pink stands in pleasant contrast to the gold of his hair.

Biting your lip, you comb it back, tracing the shape of his jaw with damp fingers.

“Even though I didn’t know you, my heart and soul yearned for you.” You whisper, sliding your hand down to rest upon his shoulders.

“And I you.” He smiles, eyes shut as you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I wonder,” You begin, pulling back to examine and rememorize every inch of his face. “Now that we are together again, whether this will negate in some way the effect of the spell?”

This thought raises a new worry in you. A fear that by meeting again you have somehow doomed Steve to die.

“Even if it has, I will not part with you again. I won’t die either.” Steve promises, but how can you take him at his word.

Magic is wicked and it will take its price one way or another.

“I have to speak to grandmother.” You counter, your gentle caress of his shoulders turned into a desperate cling.

“She’s gone.” Steve says, sending your heart into a pit within your belly. “No one has seen her since all of this started. However, there is something that I found in my office back home.”

Steve rises, moving towards his cloak left to rest on the back of a chair at the opposite end of the room.

When he returns, he holds in his hand a sealed piece of parchment, folded twice to keep its contents secure. The wax seal is a deep purple, her insignia that of a cat, back arched and head tilted up as if to yowl towards the moon.

You reach for your towel nearby and dry your hands then take the letter as Steve holds it out.

“I’ve been carrying it with me everywhere I go, hoping it would yield some explanation as to why I have been feeling so…empty.” He tells you, picking up his stool and moving to place it a bit more near the head of the tub where you sit. “Scoot forward.”

You do as he asks, staring at the letter and consider what its contents might be.

Steve’s hands disappear beneath the surface of your bathwater and emerge with a small porous sponge. It’s rough at first but with water and under Steve’s heavy hand, it becomes malleable and he begins to stroke your back, cleaning the peasant grime from your body.

“Why haven’t you opened it?” You wonder, turning it over almost expecting it to billow with glittering smoke.

“I attempted to many times. I couldn’t. The seal would not break. See there at the bottom of the fold?” He instructs.

You turn it over to look at the side with the seal and spot the small loopy writing at the bottom. The penmanship is so exquisite, you’re almost certain now that grandmother had indeed once been of noble blood.

For the Queen of Broklin.

“For me?” You gasp.

“I think it will only open for you, petal.” Steve explains as he leans closer to get the tops of your arms and then following the flow of muscle over your shoulders and down along your sides slowly.

Eager now, knowing this letter is meant for you, you tear it open and the seal breaks without fuss.

“Can you read it?” Steve wonders, no note of teasing in his voice.

Like you, he must be wondering whether so long a time away from life at the castle has made you forget everything you’d learned.

“I think so.” And with bated breath, you read, glad that you’d tried so hard to learn and only slightly surprised that you understand every single word she’s written.

If you are reading this note, it means that I was right.

First, believe me when I tell you that every word I spoke of King Rogers’s death was true. There is indeed a threat that would take his life and that of your father’s and King Thor’s as well.

I thought that perhaps King Rogers’s death would be enough to convince you that what we needed to do would be necessary and I am glad to say I was right.

What I did not tell you is that I knew the price to be asked would be the life you’d built within the castle in Broklin. I could not bear to tell you that you’d spent all that time suffering and building a family with him only to have it ripped from you.

Somehow, I don’t think you would have changed your mind even if I had.

After you spoke to me of your connection with the Asgardian king, I was wary of what it might mean for your future as Queen in the kingdom. There was only one chance to break the curse dealt by the spell to save your husband’s life and that was if you and he were always meant to be together.

Soulmates, I believe they call it. Two halves of one whole, set at opposite ends of the world to meet each other in just the right way to create what we know as destiny. In this case, the opposite ends you were placed in were poverty and wealth.

Your husband had every advantage in life while you had none. You were given no loves in life and King Rogers was given one big enough to eclipse the pull you would have for him when and if you met.

At the time, I worried that King Thor might be your true mate. The two of you were so well suited and perhaps I’m right? But if you’re reading this, it means that you and King Rogers found each other once again.

By some miracle, he or you have lifted the curse, and you can once more be together to live your lives and King and Queen of Broklin.

A fate you might not have found had I not thrown my purse into that bog by the road. I hope you appreciate my efforts, girl. I have worked very hard to walk you through this life but must now leave you to shape it on your own.

Don’t worry. I might not be with you every day, but should you need me, I will come. You don’t need to send for me. I’ll know. And rest assured, your husband’s life is safe.

There will always be evil in the world and he will always rise to fight it but be content to know that his life you most certainly have saved. Take care.

-Grandmother

You read the letter at least three times before Steve’s chin finds your shoulder, the scruff of his beard pleasantly rough against your skin.

“What does it say?” He wonders, tilting his head to kiss your neck.

You fold the letter and toss it away so that it won’t get wet, then lean back until you’re relaxed and can turn to look and admire your husband’s storm blue eyes.

“It says that no matter what might come to tear us apart, you will always find me.” You smile, reaching up to scratch underneath his chin.

Steve’s lips curl up on one side, a dashing smirk if you ever saw one.

“Always.”

#king!steve x reader #medieval fantasy au #royal au #arranged marriage au #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #steve x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #king!steve x reader fanfiction #king!steve x you #steve rogers x you #pseudo princess #avengers x reader #pseudo princess pt36 #shreddedparchment

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

Text

A blade should be sharp at all times

Marrows up to the group, his tail wagging ecstatically behind him: You guys want to play a prank on Juan?

Ren and Nora’s eyes narrow, but they say nothing.

Flynt, Cobalt, Ivory, Neon, Yang and Elm all look at him with obvious interest.

Harriet snorts dismissively: Why would I want to bother the new meat? He’s got enough problems as it is.

Winter nods her head in agreement.

Marrow’s tail stops wagging, as he looks offended: Because it would be funny!

Harriet rolls her eyes and walks away.

Marrow: Fine, be that way!

He turns back to the more interested members of the room: So, what about you guys? Wanna hear it?

Ren says nothing and Nora motions for him to continue: Depends on what the prank is?

Yang nods along: Yeah, Xiao-Long as it’s nothing too mean to Milf-Magnet.

The rest of the room groans; while Yang absorbs the life-force they’ve lost to her pun.

Marrow smiles and continues: It’s nothing too out there, it’s just an old Atlas military tradition, to see how prepared a recruit is for field work.

Ren rubs his chin: I don’t know, Jaune and the rest of us have spent pretty of time in the field, he hardly ever leaves his armor, or his weapons besides when he cleans himself.

Marrows smile widens: That’s the idea!

Ren’s eyes widen in disbelief: You’re going to prank him in the showers?

Marrow doesn’t say a thing but his tail wags faster.

Ren groans and hold his face.

Nora though...

Her face splits into a manic grin as she starts cackling wildly, falling onto her back as she laughs so hard.

Ren shakes his head in leaves.

Marrow points his hand at Ren: STAY!

Ren freezes in place.

Marrow a little sheepishly: Uh, can’t have you spoiling the surpise, sorry.

Nora still keeps on laughing.

Ren’s pink eyes sparkle briefly, then a magenta pulse of aura breaks Marrows hold on him.

Marrows eyes widen in disbelief.

Ren rolls his neck and scowls at Marrow: Believe it or not, having strong aura control is just as important as a strong semblance.

Marrow falls to his knees, his tail desperately waving behind him: Please, please, don’t tell Joanna!

Ren shakes his head and leaves.

Nora: Don’t worry, he won’t say a thing or do anything, in fact, neither will I. Have fun kids.

Nora then follows Ren out.

The room goes silent.

Yang: Well, that’s ominous.

She then notices Winter is still in the room.

Yang: Why are you still here?

Winter huffs: To make sure you all don’t go too far with your ‘Prank’. I will observe and intervene should you all go to far.

Marrow cheers: Yay! Alright, everyone here is how it’ll work. Flynt, Ivory, and Cobalt, you three will being most of the legwork. Cobalt and Ivory, find Jaune and tell him he’s got special permission to use the Specialist private bathrooms, Flynt I want you to hide in the bathroom and use your semblance to make it seem like we’re under attack to scare him out.

Marrow takes a breath and turns to Neon, Yang and Elm: Here’s you girls is part, to really sell it I want you all to make sound noises and make it seem like you’re fighting, then when Joe runs out from the showers I’ll make his freeze, then you girls can throw cold water on him! He’ll be so embarrassed!

Ivory and Cobalt shrug, though Flynt, Neon and Yang seem a little put off.

Neon: I don’t know, seem a little mean spirited.

Flynt: Yeah, we’re not best friends and all, but I don’t want to embarrest the guy.

Yang scratches her chin: It doesn’t seem very, cool thing to do to a friend.

Elm though looked excited: Don’t worry! This is nothing, what’s a little nudity between comrades! If you’re out in the field and not prepared to fight at anytime, even naked, or if you get embarrassed by your comrades seeming you nude, you’re not cut out for being a Hunter. Hell, all of the Ace-Ops have done it. Even Winter!

The sound of a sword leaving it’s sheath rang out.

Winter says says menacingly. I made you promise to never speak of it again, all of you.

Elm: Oops.

Marrow waves them off: Whatever! Anyway this is just a rite of passage in Atlas, come on guys it’ll be a laugh.

The group thinks it over and eventually complies.

Marrow: Alright! Lets get this show on the road!

--------

Ivory and Cobalt escort Jaune through the halls.

Jaune: Wow, Gen. Ironwood really said I could use the Specialist Showers? That’s really kind of him!

Ivory nods and smiles: Gen. Ironwood always takes care of his own.

Cobalt taps Jaune’s shoulder and gives him a approving look.

Cobalt: Deserve it, hard training and self-improvement are their own reward. But, Top Brass notice.

Jaune’s cheek glow slightly, a slight smile forming: Thanks, It really hard sometime, you know, to be able to see that I’ve improved, heh, no matter how much I feel like i’ve grown, I still feel like a waste of space and a burden on my team.

The group comes to a stop, Ivory and Cobalt looking slightly uncomfortable now.

Jaune turns around flashing them a pleasant grin, “Well, thanks guys. I’ll make sure to tell the General thanks, and that I won’t disappoint his trust for giving me a chance to be Huntsman.

Ivory and Cobalt say nothing and nod.

Jaune then enters the private bathroom.

Cobalt and Ivory look at each other.

Ivory: Are we the baddies?

Cobolt: Yes, but better him, than us.

Ivory sighs and taps his wrist, a small ringing occurs.

Ivory: The target is in position.

-------

Jaune walks through the state of the art bathroom humming a pleasent tune, completely unaware of the watching eyes on him.

He goes into a stall and undresses, the prying eyes losing sight of him.

Jaune then leaves the stall a towel wrapped around his waist and goes the hi-tech showers, another towel bundled in his arms.

Flynt watches Jaune enter the shower stall and sighs deeply, he liked Jaune, he really did, a decent guy all-around. But, if it kept others from seeing’s Flynt’s birthmark for another day, he would do what must be done.

He used his semblance, dividing himself into four copies of himself and then took off running inbetween the stalls.

Flynt x4: We’re under attack!

As Flynt came to the end of the room, he was not prepared for what happened next.

--------

Neon and Yang sparred with Elm in the changing room, where Jaune would have to enter to get dressed, trying to create as authenity as possible combat sounds.

Elm grabbed Yangs right hook and swung her into Neon.

Elm smiles: Got to be quicker than that.

Yang and Neon got off of each other and squared up for round two.

Marrow whispered yelled at them: It’s time! Get into postion, I just heard Flynt.

The girls and Elm nodded picking up bucket of ice-water while Marrow got ready to freeze Jaune. With Marrow having to stop himself from cracking up at the thought of Jaun’s expression.

Yang looked slightly recluntant, but the idea of a good prank won out.

Winter sighed in the corner ready to stop the prank if it goes to far, and hopefully preserve some decency.

The wall to the showers exploded out towards them, a spray of dust and stone and metal sharpnel covering the room, as heavy wet foot steps ran towards them as bellowing war howl echoed out from the destroyed room.

A figure running through the cloud of dust glowing a faint golden white, carrying a mechashifted sword in two hands over his head, the blade glowing blue from the hardlight dust along with gravity dust purple in the middle.

Jaune then leaps out of the dust howling: Just try and take them from me again you bastards! I’ll split you in twain, I’ll break you over my knees and slay you! I won’t let you take them from me again!

The group stands dazed as Jaune runs straight through them and through a wall, completely naked, his towel being shredding into binding that tied his meaty tube of a cock to his lower-thigh, while holding his sword overhead before slashing in front of him creating a hole for him to jump out into the campus.

A blush creeps up the faces of those present.

Marrow burst out laughing: That was amazing! Did anyone, get a picture?

Elm falls to her knees: I think I’m in love?

Neon shake her head sadly: No, I was too... Mesmerized.

Yang: So that’s why he wears two belts.

Winter...

Winter has disappeered.

------

Later that evening....

Atlas Reporter: A well-known Huntsman known as Jaune Arc has gone on a murderous Grimm-Hunting rampage all while streaking! What will those crazy kids think of next! Next on the block, pregnancy rates in Mantle having been climbing by over 750% over the last six hours, is this related to the previous new? The Answer may surprise you.

Ren flicks the Scroll-Box closed.

He then rests his head on Nora’s shoulder.

Ren: Yep, it happened again.

Nora: We did nothign to stop it.

Ren: We could have warned them... But, better they learn first hand.

Nora: You did it because you thought it was funny, don’t you dare lie to me.

Ren smiles as he opens the scroll so that Nora can see, the Scroll showing a madly blushing Winter chasing after Jaune in a Bullhead, providing both aerial support, and firing t-shirt and boxer shorts at him, while he rampages through a horde of Grimm.

Ren smirking and pulling Nora close: You know me too well.

#Jaune Arc

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headcanonsandmore · 3 years ago

Note

FOR THE DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY :) If you feel like I'd love to have you put your oar in about this one!

from 'What was once there'

But now… Ron’s presence seemed to fill the room with a wonderfully warm energy, encouraging everyone around to pay attention to him. It likely wasn’t something even Ron himself had noticed, but the fact remained that he was more eye-catching than ever. Even without the height, the muscles, the huge smile, the beautiful red hair and the brightest blue eyes, Ron was someone you couldn’t look away from.

‘Anyway, me and Luna moved in together last year and…’

Hermione’s mind snapped back into the present, as her stomach seemed to fill with ice. What? Luna? How? When?

‘You’re… you’re with Luna?’

‘Well…’ Ron said, not seeming to notice Hermione’s shock. ‘It’s complicated. Like, we’re not a “couple” or anything, but we’re not simply platonic either. I dunno, I guess… it’s just nice being with someone for that support and acceptance, y’know?’

Hermione didn’t know, but she nodded in apparent understanding nonetheless.

‘I mean, I thought- nah,’ Ron said.

‘No, what?’

‘Well…’ Ron’s ears seemed to flush a little. ‘People always used to ask me whether I was dating you when we were teenagers, so…’

Hermione’s cheeks burned red again.

‘R-really?’

‘I know, right?’ Ron said, chuckling. ‘I mean, like that would ever work. You with your huge brain and me barely able to finish my homework on time-’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘You were a good student, Ron; you got higher-than-average O.W.Ls, if my memory is correct.’

‘It always has been,’ Ron replied, looking a little shocked by her sudden response. ‘Sorry. I… I guess I fell into that old self-mocking thing again. Haven’t done that in years.’

Oh, god, Hermione thought, miserably, he did that because of me being here.

‘Don’t apologise, please,’ she said. ‘You’re… you’re brilliant, Ron. People always used to ask me why you put up with me, actually.’

Oooh, thank you! That's an interesting choice because I never got the sense that "What Was Once There" had much of a reaction from readers, given how quickly I wrote and released it (as well as it being published during that time when the HP fandom seemed to be withering on the grapevine).

This bit gave me an opportunity to have Hermione gush about Ron and -because I've always seen Hermione as having a very literate inner voice- I wanted this to be wordy and almost poetic in how she describes him. Gotta love some gushing about Ron Weasley.

‘Anyway, me and Luna moved in together last year and…’

Hermione’s mind snapped back into the present, as her stomach seemed to fill with ice. What? Luna? How? When?

‘You’re… you’re with Luna?’

Okay, I'll admit it; I do enjoy throwing the occasional bucket of cold water over Hermione's internal monologue🤣. Partially because she reminds me of my younger self a lot (teenage H&M was a nightmare at times), and also because I think Hermione often needs some sort of short shock to nudge her into confronting her feelings.

Hermione didn’t know, but she nodded in apparent understanding nonetheless.

While people might think that Ron is being unusually oblivious here, I think it actually makes sense at this point in the story. Hermione and Ron haven't seen each other for years, so it would make sense that they'd both be a little out of rhythm with each others emotions. Not to mention the fact that Hermione tends to mask her feelings more than Ron does (he's more of a heart-on-sleeve character).

Also, while I didn't use the exact terminology in the scene here, I did intend for Ron and Luna to have something akin to a queer-platonic relationship for this fic, given that I really like how well they compliment each other as characters. And if it gives me an excuse to write some cutesy Runa fluff, so much the better. 🤣

Although... the fact that Hermione doesn't know is indicative of a wider issue for her. She's not an extreme level of "no-one talks to me" but, because she isn't as easy-going as Ron is, she finds it far more difficult to be around people and to open up to people.

‘I mean, I thought- nah,’ Ron said.

‘No, what?’

‘Well…’ Ron’s ears seemed to flush a little. ‘People always used to ask me whether I was dating you when we were teenagers, so…’

Hermione’s cheeks burned red again.

‘R-really?’

I think it shows a good deal of maturity that Ron can actually bring this up with only a little embarrassment, given that he was in love with Hermione when they were teenagers. It also shows that Hermione finds it difficult to control herself when the subject gets brought up, highlighting that her attraction to Ron is one of the few gaps in her armour.

‘I know, right?’ Ron said, chuckling. ‘I mean, like that would ever work. You with your huge brain and me barely able to finish my homework on time-’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘You were a good student, Ron; you got higher-than-average O.W.Ls, if my memory is correct.’

I know, I know; Ron just naturally slips into self-deprecation here, but this is something I intended. When you're around old friends, you often find yourself slipping into old habits. However, I also wanted to show that Hermione has grown past her teenage "I must never give Ron positive words of affirmation or he will immediately realise that I am attracted to him" way of thinking; she immediately makes it clear that she knows how talented Ron is.

‘It always has been,’ Ron replied, looking a little shocked by her sudden response. ‘Sorry. I… I guess I fell into that old self-mocking thing again. Haven’t done that in years.’

Oh, god, Hermione thought, miserably, he did that because of me being here.

And this is me addressing how Ron slips into this old habit. Also note how Ron is aware of himself doing it, and that it's not a good habit to pick up. He's aware that it isn't emotionally healthy to do that. And, given Hermione connecting the two dots together, she's aware that he slipped into it because he was so used to doing that around her when they were teenagers.

‘Don’t apologise, please,’ she said. ‘You’re… you’re brilliant, Ron. People always used to ask me why you put up with me, actually.’

Again, Hermione trying to evolve past her teenage habits and instead making it clear that she knows how amazing Ron is, that he needn't apologise for an old habit, and even admitting to a little insecurity of her own.

Thanks again for the ask, Hilly! This was fun to do, and it's great to revisit fics that I haven't thought about in a while.

Send me more directors cut asks about my fic, everyone!

#ask #writing #'what was once there'#romione #ronmione #ron weasley #hermione granger #hillnerd

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

Warning : 18 plus AU, adult themes, collage au

Part one Part two

"Mina, I really don't see why I have to wear this Bikini, I prefer a cutout one piece." You say sipping your iced coffee as Mina packs her beach bag with sponges, rags, and tons of bottled water. You wait impatiently by the door of your shared, temporary dorm.

"Becauuuusssse, I already told you! That Instagram post I made of all of us blew up, even with my large following. Remember how many people we brought in last time?"

"Yes, we made 45% more profit…" You bite at the inside of your lip as you think, adjusting your white t-shirt so it sat nicely above the black bikini bottoms. You weren't one to argue with numbers.

"Well now with the combined efforts with the shirtless boys we can actually use that allowance you got us for unlimited kegs."

"No, Mina new windows and installation. They said the house was hot, which means winter will be brutal." You roll your eyes, "Unless you want to freeze this winter, personally I have no problem with freezing."

She giggles at your joke, pulling you along as if you were the reason for being late instead of her. Mina spies Uraraka and Jiro waving them towards the two of you before she whispers softly to you.

"Just, try to have fun today no matter what."

You wondered if that was an omen, a jinx or if she already knew what lied ahead. Either way you would not being having too much fun.

The four of you arrive just before the first customer's begin to line up and already you want to organize. Counting the heads until you see a certain ash blonde causing your normally cold blood to run hot. Too hot.

"Mina?" Your voice dips low, as ice dances in the air around you, "What is he doing here?"

"Who?" She plays dumb as the other two women greet the group of men. Harsh garnet cut to you as you steel your glare.

"Oi, Icy Brat. What are you fucking doing here?" His voice grates your nerves and for a moment you see red. Thinking of freezing him and going about your day. Instead you choose to give him the cold shoulder, averting your gaze.

"We're doing pairs for washing today. I'm glad you could make it" Kirishima beams, coming in for a hug, you take a step back offering him a polite smile. His smile doesn't lose an ounce of shine, it makes you respect him a bit more.

"I'll handle the cash and direct cars then." You say pointing to the box, ready to grab the fanny pack and head to the street. Denki grabs onto you gently, releasing you as if you were hot to the touch.

"No it has to be a boy girl ratio. I promise the outcome will be worth it, please!" This won't be the first or last time both Denki and Mina beg for your help. You look around at what must be their subconscious pairings. Jiro calls Denki over as the first car pulls up, Kirishima seems to wait patiently, his eyes lingering on bubble gum pink skin, while Sero is already guiding cars with Uraraka in tow.

That leaves you and Bakugou who has his arms crossed, sneering at the customers.

Your hope dwindles that today would be a good day.

Sero points to a blue car indicating that this was going to be yours to share with the hot head. Sighing you waltz over in your black wedge heels and begin your work. Bakugou looms over the wet car, sponge in hand. The two of you work in silence until the third car, a red coupe with a couple inside about to receive the show of their bi lives.

They comment on the tension they feel between the two of you right away, they notice the glares and lack of communication. Even making small jokes about how funny it would be to see one of those cliche water fights between the two of you.

"Icebrat, you're doing it fuckin wrong." Bakuogu barks, you ignore him, continuing to wash the car. Anger burns in his chest, never understanding why you acted so high and mighty.

"Gonna give me the cold shoulder are ya?" He growls, eyeing the dirty water before a thought crosses his mind, "Love to see you ignore this."

His voice is sadistic before he throws the dirty water across the car onto your frame, suds and water cling to your white t, showcasing the black bikini top underneath. Your temper spikes enough that your shirt collects frost at the seams before you slowly remove it. Glaring at the hot head when you're done.

"Fuck." The couple say aloud grabbing onto each other as they watch the scene unfold. Your powerful frame guiding you with a deadly clack of your heels. Your hands find the bucket of water Mina and Kirishima were using, your fingers tap the bucket and the water forms a film of ice at the top. Meanwhile Bakugou goes to "correct" whatever mistake you were making. The couple's eyes watch the unsuspecting Bakugou reach up their hood to clean a particular spot before water is dumped over his spiky blonde hair.

You tap the back of his shirt making it stiff with frost, when he moves to face you it shatters away from his body. Revealing the sculpted plans of his abs and the scars of untold stories.

If it weren't for all of that ice water Bakugou would have blown you sky high, he comes close to you. Huffing as his eyes become wild and wide. All you offer him is a deadly polite smile as you stare him in the face, unbothered and unphased by his towering presence.

"What? I was only getting the spot you missed." When he says nothing you allow yourself to relish the silence, placing your hand on his shoulder capping it in obvious ice.

"Are you giving me the cold shoulder now?" The question is nonchalant before you signal to Sero for another car as you walk to get more supplies. Sero whistles at a bristling Bakugou before leaning into the driver's side window to give directions. Before he can ask for a tip the driver is offering a twenty dollar bill while his eyes are flickering between yourself and Bakugou.

"Mark us down as a regular." He sighs as his girlfriend does too. Sero happily tucks the money into the fanny pack.

"Will do."

Somehow the two of you manage quips and water pranks back and forth without killing each other. Making it through the long day but earning a high amount of tips. Mina clings to you as you count cash, sweat on her brow as the sun settles into an unbearable afternoon heat.

"Uuugghhh how much longer mom?" She asks, sighing at your icy touch. You roll your eyes as you count the last stack.

"Not too much hush." You place the money into the lock box, wondering how the hell the eight of you made so much money in just seven hours.

"But I'm starving! Plus we still have to pick our rooms!"

"You're that excited to move all of our items into what was a male dominated space?" You ask coolly as Jiro and Uraraka lean against the collapsible table.

"I'm stoked." Jiro comments, her earjacks twirling themself as her eyes wander.

"It will be nice to be settled before the fall term." Uraraka sighs looking down at her phone, idly scrolling through her socials. The two women nod as the guys approach. You purposely ignore the hot head and allow your eyes to meet Denki's, although it takes him a few long seconds to meet your gaze. He was a little preoccupied with a black and white checkered bikini with matching Van's.

"Earth to space cadet." Sero nudges his ribs subtly pointing to you as you gaze at him as a teacher would a student caught daydreaming. He clears his throat.

"Well it seems your theory has paid off. We've made quite a bit of cash today." You lock the box before standing, reluctantly adding, "The pairing of female and male will be standard from here on out. Although we should only need a few more fundraising events depending on what the house needs. Which I trust won't be too much."

Three of the four boys shared a concerned look while the fourth knows how bitter your words were going to taste.

"We'll meet you at the house."

❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥

The four of you cannot deny the excitement you feel as yall walk up to the historical home. The upper balcony seems to wrap around the back but only partially in the front while the porch below stretches across the front of the home. The siding had been repainted and the banisters above and below are wrapped in what will be sparkling lights at night. A stately set of double doors catch your eye before they yawn open by the hands of Denki Kaminari who is trying not to visibly sweat.

"Home sweet home!" Denki steps aside to let the four of you in with your belongings. Your eyes dissect the place as you press your tongue into your bottom lip, trying your best to keep your cool. This place needed a lot of what you deemed necessities. You notice the familiar dining room table as the foldable card table they had at the carwash surrounded by the cheap camping chairs you thought you had replaced.

The only decent looking room was the living room and even then it was only thanks to you. The leather arm chairs were placed haphazardly around the new sectional you had delivered as it circled around the TV you demanded from the dean.

Denki watches your manicured nails rap against your skin as you think.

"The window installation and insulation went smoothly?"

"Yes." Sero answers as your eyes wander around the room landing on your mattress and platform bed frame resting against the wall in the nook by the study turned bedroom.

"We didn't know where to put it since the bedrooms aren't sorted out for you lovely ladies just yet." Kirishima smiles but your mind isn't on why it is there. No, your mind is wondering why there is only one.

"Was I the only one to order my mattress?" You look towards your sorority who holds a guilty look before you glance at the three men who mirror the women.

"Well I guess that is for the better. We can spend extra on them now anyway."

"Are you sure? I thought the budget was tight." Denki asks, earning a rare boasting smile from you. You make your way into the kitchen and six ducklings follow. Your nail taps the stainless steel of a high end commercial fridge.

"It was tight before but not after I got this." Smile remaining on your lips as you speak, "It was 3,000 off due to some cosmetic dents but I got it as a donation. An alumni donation."

"Wow for free?!" Denki and Sero ask in unison, amazed by your skill.

"For free boys."

"Wow, Bakugou might love that fridge even more now. Every time he cooks he mentions how great it is." Kirishama laughs but a certain name causes you to freeze to the tiled floor.

"Bakugou…" You turn to Mina with a deadly glare as ice crystals form in your hair, "As in Bakugou lives here?!"

The silence echoes throughout the kitchen and all that can be heard is the hum of the fancy fridge. Just as you're about to snap, Denki intervenes.

"Uh. Did you want to talk bedrooms?"

"YES!" The girls yell pulling the boys back into the safety of the living room as you collect yourself for a moment.

God you hated the effect his name had on you but even more so how stupid you felt. As if this was some half baked plan to leave out the important detail that the man you loathed most would be under the same roof. Finally after a few deep breaths the ice in your hair melts and you step into the living room with a level head. Reminding yourself that this house was going to be rent free. You would have a full sized kitchen and your own bedroom, this was a much better option than the dorms even if it meant Bakugou came with it.

"There is one bedroom upstairs not claimed, the rest of us guys are up there too. Then that door next to the nook is the study, it's not huge but it has a lot of shelves and big enough to fit a queen. Um there are two bedrooms in the basement but it's not totally dark down there. Plus the second living room with the pong table is down there. What else?" Denki taps his finger to his lips, "Oh half bath is here. Full bathroom is upstairs and there is technically another full bath in the basement, it's just more 'open concept'."

"Open concept?" Jiro asks, earjacks perking with curiosity.

"He means no walls. Just a toilet and a shower head chilling next to the laundry sink and washer, dryer." Sero explains, again you tongue the inside of your bottom lip.

"Girl huddle!" Mina shouts, pulling the three of you into a small circle, "I personally really would like one of the bedrooms in the basement. I'm loud and I wouldn't mind the late hours that come with the pong table. I am the QUEEN after all."

"I want a bedroom in the basement too. You know my music gets super loud!" Jiro pipes in. Uraraka wants to say something but politely waits for you, instead you gesture for her to speak first.

"I...I would be much more comfortable in the study. I don't mind it being small." Her brown eyes bore holes into the floorboards as you read between the lines.

"I would be much more comfortable on a different level than all four men." Is what she means, you sigh internally, swearing this will be the last compromise you make for these women.

"Then I'll take the room upstairs." You state before telling the boys the arrangements. You look at your watch to check the time.

"If we leave now in the college van and trailer I borrowed we could get everyone else's mattresses tonight." You look around the room before asking, "So where is Bakugou anyway?"

The three boys glance at one another, Kirishima speaks up.

"He had a….previous obligation." He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. You narrow your eyes.

"Let me call him. This is more important than whatever he is doing. It clearly isn't school related." You hold out your hand for the red head's phone, he pulls it from his pocket reluctantly.

It rings before going to voicemail but that's never stopped you before. You call until he picks up screaming into the receiver.

"WHAT THE FUCK I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING CALL SHITTY HAIR!!!"

"Enough with the dramatics, what could be more important than your other roommates deciding bedrooms in the house?"

"Is that?!" A female voice screeches your name once she figured out who you are, "Listen here slut, I'm in the middle of getting my back broken and…"

"Bakugou we are leaving in fifteen minutes. I advise that you get here on time. Otherwise we will leave without you." You interrupt the angry booty call.

"And if I fucking don't, Icebrat?" You roll your eyes at the nickname as you sigh.

"Then I'll spend your portion of the allowance on something else. Fifteen minutes."

"OI!" Bakugou shouts before a woman's voice comes across the speaker.

"Stop ignoring me bitch and stop talking to my man!"

"Oh sweetheart your 'man' is only going to your place cause he sleeps on a crusty ass futon not because he actually likes you." Your voice is honeyed in venom before dipping low, "Bakugou be home or you forfeit the fucking funding for your bed."

With that you hang up, passing Kirishima's phone back to him. Everyone shares a glance as they remember just how icy you can be, there was no threat in your voice. Only a promise to Bakugou.

"Sero be a dear and help me take my mattress up." You ask lifting the box with the unbuilt frame with ease. Suddenly skittish Sero takes a moment to grab your mattress as Denki helps him bring it up the stairs but abandons Sero by the bathroom at the top of the stairs, forcing the tape hero to face this challenge alone. Sero only hopes the room neighboring yours is shut and he sighs with relief when it is.

He helps you set the items into your room that is located in the front of the house. You take in the view of the perfectly sized yet small bedroom. Two large sets of sliding doors that meet in the corner force you to place your bed against what you assume is the shared wall of one of your roommates. Sero swallows thickly as he realizes just why Denki abandoned him. He can see it in your eyes, the curiosity sparkling as you turn to face him, you're going to inquire about the room next door.

Please Gods do not ask him.

Don't fucking asking him please.

"Who do I owe the pleasure?" You smile sweetly, praying it is Kirishima or Sero at the very least. Hell you'd even take Denki who sings loudly off key, as long as it wasn't Bakugou. You watch the raven hair man's face fall, his dark eyes avoiding yours as he answers and yet somehow you already knew.

"Ba-Bakugou's" The room drops twenty degrees as the floor freezes beneath your feet, snow floating gently to the floor as Sero's breath puffs in the new found tundra.

"SERO I NEED YOUR HELP MAN! JIRO'S DRUM SET AND AMPS ARE HEAVY!" Denki calls from downstairs, saving Sero's hide. The man rushes and catches himself from slipping before he practically jumps down the entire set of stairs.

"How did she take it?" Mina whispers before following Sero's eyes to where your bedroom should be. Urakaka comes from the study with snowflakes dusting her hair and a shiver.

"Well at least I'll never be hot in the summer."

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha frathouse au #bnha wholesome frat house

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