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oneprompt · 3 years ago

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hi… your writing is absolutely amazing <33 can you do a sanji x reader WHERE HES JUST RLLY SUBMISSIVE TO YOU ?? or one where he’s dominant because I don’t see dom sanji a lot.. but I’m a slut for submissive sanji so like ‼️ it’s embarrassing to say but can this be nsfw? the scenario could be where sanji asks you to be dominant in the bedroom, and like when you start to degrade him HE REALLY LIKES IT SO YOU KEEP DOINF IT AND ]\]+|¥ okay am I explaining this well?? This is my first time submitting a request I’m so sorry if this makes no sense . basically just a sanji x reader where sanji enjoys being degraded <3 if you can of course! 🧡

authors note : thank you so much , im flattered to hear such a kind thing directed at me ! <3 and this request ? i adore your brain , sanji is . most definitely a sub ! i did hc + a drabble like i always do <3 hope these are enough

NSFW / SMUT WARNING

.......

tags : degrading , femdom , sub / dom , ( verbal ) masochism , ( alight ) master kink

Sub! Sanji x Dom! Reader Headcanons

• You were a bit surprised from the sudden change of pace from Sanji. You both have a rather fluid routine when it came to sex , neither of you ever being a strict sub or dom. And with the mention of things such as verbal degrading and humiliation... you couldn’t help but be taken aback. Not in a bad way, of course! You were more then open to spice things up with your lover.

• You couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious as you stepped into your shared room, dark blue lace masking your most feminine areas, a garter holding up the matching stockings. You had picked out the lingerie to match the blue that Sanji often wore. Needless to say, his reaction to your body is instant. But who can blame him, truly? Seeing a woman in such scandalous clothing, you’re bound to grow antsy.

• You two are immediately on each other, kissing and touching one another. The more foreplay and light touches Sanji gave you, the more excited you got, the fabric of your brand new panties already grow wet. Sanji seemed so desperate, so needy..

• You found yourself shocked by your own words, the heat of the moment carrying your words better then your own brain. “You’re such a pervert... already getting so hard for me. What type of freak rubs his dick on a girls new clothes?” Your own jaw dropped at your words. Would Sanji be upset over you saying that? Would he have taken it to heart?

• To your relief, you were met with the view of Sanji’s face turning a pure shade of scarlet, his eyes half lidded. He had such a cute smirk on his face, he looked so shy, despite the large erection that peeked up from his boxers. He couldn’t help but fawn over your attitude, encouraging to take your insults even further.

• And so you did. Sure, you still felt a bit guilty for being so cruel to him but you couldn’t deny how worked up it was getting you, nor how pleasing it was for your boyfriend. Sanji showed the most pleasure as you yanked on his tie, ordering him around and calling him tons of names.

• When you two get to the main course, Sanji had already been made a mess by the grinding of your hips and words alone. So, once you prop yourself up ontop of him and let your flooding hole hold his member captive, he turns into pure putty. It’s cute. So very cute.

• The way Sanji pleads and begs for you, moaning and mewling as he repeated your name over and over again. He was a mess, he looked like a true man whore beneath you. You make sure to still degrade him and occasionally yank at his blonde locks while making him pleasure you with his sweet dick.

• Sanji is quick to cum ( not without begging first , though ), letting out a high pitched whine and moan as he came inside of you, even getting a bit on you as he pulled out afterward, leaving your thighs and labia a cum drizzled scape.

Sub! Sanji x Dom! Reader Oneshot

The cries Sanji let out under you was like nothing you had ever heard. Sanji was a very prideful man, at least in the presence of others. Right now, he was nothing but a mask of what he is for the public. He’s not Black Legged Sanji right now, right now he’s your slut.

“Y-Y/n-san..~..Please give me more..” Sanji whimpered out in pleasure, holding himself back from throwing his hips upward, making your hungry hole eat his shaft. You were moving so painfully slow... “Please..faster...”

Your hands stayed planted firmly on his chest, your nails carefully digging themselves into his collarbone. “I’ll move when i want to. Mutts don’t get to tell master what to do..” You sighed out in pleasure, feeling your insides hug Sanji’s girth. You smiled at the sight of Sanji’s face glowing a darker shade of red from your words. He was adorable.

“I’ll beg...please, just go faster,” Sanji said, looking up at you, his gaze pleading. He looked so desperate, he was making an expression you had never seen him make before. You couldn’t help but grow more aroused at the sight of such a rare face.

“Okay, beg, then..” You smirked softly, leaning down and kissing Sanji’s cheek. You patiently waited for Sanji to speak up.

“Y/n-san... please use me up. I’m all yours...no other woman will ever hold my heart captive the way you do,” It was odd. Even when engulfed by pleasure, Sanji still managed to be his poetic and romantic self, didnt he?

With those magic words, your hips snapped downward, taking Sanji balls deep inside of you, the tip of his member staying jammed against the depth of your cervix. You couldn’t hold back as you moaned lustfully, tilting your head back in pleasure. The large frame of the bed began to creek as you eagerly rode the chef, your hips bouncing along with your supple breasts. It felt far too good. Being in a position like this with the role you had in this very moment was more then enough to make you orgasm at any moment.

Sanji couldn’t keep his mouth shut, gentle gasps puffing out of his lips, a line of drool dripping down along the corner of his mouth. Why hadn’t Sanji asked you to do this any sooner? It felt amazing, certainly the best sex the two of you have had.

“Y/n, don’t stop...degrade me, please~,” Sanji moaned out, the pleasure in his voice dragging the letters with it. His eyes were shut as he huffed and puffed, trying to stabilize the rapid mewls that flew out of him.

“Don’t order me around.. you aren’t in the position to do that, unless you want to be punished,” You said shakily, voice trembling from the amount of pleasure that dived in and out of your body.

Punished? Oh, now that was a thought Sanji liked. If just verbal torture felt so good, how good would it be to have you be more hands on with it? The thought of you as a domantrix made him more excited. A dark corset looping itself along your waist, paired with matching gloves. And all sorts of lewd tools on your side to make Sanji scream. It sounds like heaven to him.

“Punish me, Y/n-san! Please..be mean,” Sanji begged, grovelling under your body. And so, that’s what you did. You didn’t hesitate to lift your hips off of Sanji’s erection, the tip a deep red as it looked about ready to burst with the amount of cum he had been holding back.

A pout snuck its way into Sanji’s face as his girthy dick twitched in disappointment. This isn’t the punishment he wanted..

“Why’re you pouting? I said i’d be mean,” You smirked slightly, now located in between your lovers legs.

“I didn’t think-,” Sanji’s breath hitched as you squeezed his throbbing dick in between your breasts, the coating of your own wetness and Sanji’s precum already having it lubed further enough.

Sanji stuttered as you began to move your breasts, letting them bounce against his shaft, making up a pleasurable friction against the sensitive appendage. It felt so good, something as minor as this was enough to have Sanji trembling and begging.

He looked down at you with his beautiful pearly blues, tears of overstimulation brimming his eyes. This was beginning to be far too much for him, holding his ejaculation back was impossible at this point, and Sanji made that very apparent. Without a single word from him you let out the magic words, still letting him thrust into your breasts.

“You may cum, Sanji-kun.” You smiles lovingly at the blonde, awaiting his seed to paint your face. Sanji has been waiting all night for you to say those words, that single chain.

In an instant, thick ropes of Sanji’s semen spouted out from his dick, hitting the warmth of your cheeks and making your entire face sticky. Thankfully for you, it only got upon your face, and not your hair.

Sanji looked absolutely blissed out, letting his head hit the pillows as he was laid out entirely. The small breaths that escaped him made you giggle quietly. He was so incredibly cute.

You feel as if you and Sanji learnt a bit more about each other today, and understood your own selves a lot better.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece smut #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #sanji vinsmoke #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji smut #fanfic #fanfic smut

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Twisted 17 - Mind Games [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, angst.

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Love demands sacrifices.

Not even once in your life had you ever imagined yourself in handcuffs, in an interrogation room on the wrong side of the table.

You weren’t even at the FBI headquarters though. The police had taken you to the station after the hospital, taking a blood sample and your fingerprints, then they had handcuffed you and left you there with a glass of water.

Of course they suspected you. Of course they thought you had murdered him.

Murder was your father’s legacy, after all.

You traced the handcuffs over your wrists, already feeling the bruises forming there. The shock still hadn’t worn off but you were starting to think it was a good thing. It felt as if you were watching all of this from behind some kind of glass window, perfectly aware of every single emotion but unable to actually feel them.

Spencer had said when you felt threatened, your body produced nervous energy, some sort of a fight or flight reaction but for once you weren’t trying to do any of that.

You just sat there, completely frozen.

“You look calm,” the police officer spoke, making you look up, trying to ignore the faint yelling coming from outside, possibly from the end of the hall.

“I’m sorry?”

“Most people would be traumatized if this happened to them, they’d be crying, shaking…” he motioned at you, “But look at you. Still as a statue. You look pretty calm.”

“Would you rather if I were crying?”

“I’d rather if you were acting like a human being,” he said, “Why are you so calm?”

Why were you so calm?

Because your mother had taught you this much. Showing emotion when you were afraid meant weakness.

“My father was a serial killer,” you stated, looking him dead in the eye, “I’ve had a complicated childhood.”

“Yeah, I’d say…” he leaned in slightly, “You know, I’ve watched that documentary about your father. His interviews too.”

You raised your brows as he sniffled, trying to look like he was nonchalant about this whole situation.

“And I’ve spent sixteen years on this job,” he said, “After a while, you don’t even need anyone to speak for you to know what they’ve done. It’s all in their eyes and little girl,” he clicked his tongue, “There’s nothing behind your eyes but ice and death.”

You couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of people, not even if they tried to kill you. No matter how much they tried to hurt you-

No emotions.

“Impressive,” you managed to say, “Very poetic. Have you ever considered changing your career?”

“You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”

“I think you wanted to follow your father’s footsteps,” he said, “I think you killed Anthony, and all those other people. It’s not even your fault, is it? Some people are just born broken.”

That was more than enough to make your eyes snap up to his and you could feel the lump in your throat but you bit your tongue so hard that you swallowed blood, making sure to keep your expression still.

“Nothing to say?”

“You’ve already decided what to think of me,” you said, “And I already told you what happened. What more do you want to hear?”

“Right,” he scoffed, taking a look at the file in front of him, “You went to bed around 12, didn’t wake up whole night, when you woke up you found him like that. Lying in a pool of his own blood, in your kitchen.”

“You don’t look like a whiskey girl.” an unfamiliar voice made you turn your head and you lowered your glass, tilting your head. The guy smiled at you, and stole a look at the whiskey glass you had put on the bar.

“Yeah?” you asked, “What girl am I then? If you’re such an expert?”

He thought for a moment, “Hmm, wine?”

“Depends on the occasion.”

“What kind of an occasion does whiskey call for?”

“Apparently an occasion for meeting guys with bad pick-up lines.”

He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, I swear I’m normally smoother than this.”

“I would hope so,” you grinned, and offered your hand, “Y/N.”

“Anthony.”

“But you failed to mention the part you texted him to come to your apartment.”

“I didn’t text anyone.”

“We have your phone Y/N.”

“I didn’t text anyone,” you repeated, “Someone must’ve drugged me and taken my phone, the same person who killed him, the same person who obviously broke into my apartment.”

“How convenient.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I always wake up during night,” you said, your voice completely calm and controlled. “Always. I never woke up last night, there has to be a reason for that.”

“If you’ve been drugged, it will come up on the blood tests.”

“Good.”

“While we wait for that,” he said, “Why don’t we go over what you did last night?”

You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said “Went to work. I left work at 7 to go to my sister’s place. I left there around eleven, came home and went to bed.”

“Nothing else happened.”

“Nothing else happened,” you repeated and he sat up straighter.

“Okay. Well just so you know, Dr. Spencer Reid—” he started and your head shot up, your heart slamming against your chest, “He is giving us his professional opinion at the moment, about this case and what might have really happened this morning. Do you have anything you want to change in your story before he’s finished?”

You gawked at him, blinking a couple of times before you turned your head to look at the one-way mirror on the wall.

The BAU was there, behind the mirror.

“….They came back?”

“We’ve sent them the report, yes. They landed an hour ago.”

It was as if somebody was trying to claw your stomach out of your body as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the burning behind your eyes before you turned to the officer.

“I don’t have anything to change,” you managed to keep your voice stable, “It was a terrible thing, it definitely was but I didn’t do it.”

Someone knocked on the mirror, making you and the officer look that way before he pushed his chair back and left the interrogation room. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on your breathing through the blinding headache but opened your eyes when the door opened again.

Luke.

He offered you a small smile and pulled himself a chair.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, sitting up with your back straight, your hands clasped.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you stole a look at the one-way mirror, “Is he there?”

“Reid?” Luke asked and shook his head, “I had to basically wrestle him out of the hall, he’s…he’s not allowed here. Conflict of interest. He’s giving his statement at the end of the hall as we speak.”

You nodded, digging your fingernails into your palms. “Okay.”

“He also called your sister on our way here. Couldn’t reach her, but left a message. Listen, he can’t request it on your behalf, but you need to ask for a lawyer.”

“I didn’t kill Anthony.”

“I didn’t ask if you killed him, I’m saying you need to ask for a lawyer.”

“Does he think I did it?” you asked and Luke shook his head again.

“No,” he said, “But it doesn’t matter what anyone else believes at this point, Y/N. Ask for a lawyer.”

You kept your back straight, rolling your shoulders. “If Spencer left a message to Mina, she’s coming.”

“Is she a defense lawyer?”

“No but she knows a lot of them.”

He took a deep breath and put the bottle of your pills on the desk, “The officers also found this.”

You tried your hardest to focus, moving your wrists to help with the soreness of the handcuffs. “They’re prescribed.”

“I can see that. The side effects say confusion?”

You arched a brow, “I’m sorry, do I sound confused to you right now?”

“No, you sound way too controlled right now, I may as well have been talking to a robot.”

You gritted your teeth, trying to control the panic bubbling at the pit of your stomach, sending anger through your veins.

“I’m not confused,” you stated, “Besides, I haven’t been taking them lately.”

He threw his head back, pressing his lips together, “God, Y/N, you can’t say that. A psychiatrist prescribed you something and you—“

“They’re just for nightmares, they don’t make you…” you took a deep breath, commanding yourself to stay calm, “I didn’t kill him. I found him like that. It was terrible, but I didn’t do it.”

Someone opened the door again and Emily Prentiss cleared her throat.

“Luke,” she murmured, “Spencer.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat upon hearing his name but kept completely still as Luke left the room and Emily and JJ walked into the room.

“You’re taking turns now?” you asked and Emily cleared her throat,

“Me and JJ are the only people in our team who haven’t spent as much time with you, so we figured it would be better if we interrogated you.”

“I didn’t do it.”

Emily pulled herself a chair as JJ crossed her arms, standing by the wall.

“Can you walk me through what happened this morning?”

You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said, “With a headache. I knew something was wrong, I felt it. My window was open, the front door was half open and my phone wasn’t where I left it. I stepped outside my room, saw the blood, went to the kitchen and saw—“ you gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, “Saw my ex-boyfriend there. Dead. Lying in a pool of his blood.”

“But you heard nothing.”

“I never sleep for the whole night,” you said slowly, “Check my blood test. Something happened last night.”

“We don’t have your blood test results yet, but there was no sign of any sexual—“

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” You cut her off, a shiver running down your spine, “That’s not it. Whoever it was, they didn’t touch me, they wanted…”

“What did they want?”

You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know. They wanted me to see it I think. My…my father’s crime scenes.”

JJ took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall.

“And you don’t think it’s a little too convenient?”

You pulled your brows together, looking at her and she stepped closer to the table, her eyes fixed on you.

“Two victims so far,” she said, “The ones that we knew that were in the same place as you, they had some connection to you. That woman who was killed at the charity ball, you didn’t get along when you were kids, you turned her down as a client before she was killed, and now your ex-boyfriend ends up dead, in your apartment because you sent him a—“ she scoffed, “I’m sorry, someone sent him a late night text, inviting him to your apartment.”

“JJ,” Emily started but JJ held up a hand while you tried to wrap your head around it.

She had a point. Two victims so far had some connection to you and that was not a coincidence, it couldn’t have been.

“You think I did it,” you rasped out and she scoffed.

“I think you had something to do with all of this,” she said, “I think you’ve been trying to manipulate Spencer for something. The best case scenario, you were cheating, that’s why Anthony was there and something went bad, the worst case….” She shook her head, “You’re behind every single murder we’ve been looking into, and Spencer was just a tool for you. He’s my best friend, and if I find one single proof that you put him in harm’s way, I swear to God I will destroy you.”

Two people had ended up dead, and that was your fault. The copycat was going after people who had some kind of connection to you, and apparently no one except you and your family was safe.

The idea was way too painful to even exist inside your head, but it was clear as day. JJ was right, you were putting Spencer in harm’s way just by being with him, and if it were him, if you had seen him lying in a pool of his blood, his eyes wide open—

You dug your fingernails into your palms until it hurt before you managed to lift your head, that invisible wall which kept you safe from anyone and everyone who could possibly see anything you felt going up again.

“You…” you trailed off, your throat burning, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asked but before you could say anything, someone slammed the door open, making you and the agents turn.

Mina.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she asked no one in particular and stepped aside so that 4 lawyers could walk inside before the police officer rushed to you to remove the handcuffs off your wrists.

“You’re not saying another word,” she snapped her fingers, “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“We’re going to need her to sign some papers,” the officer said as Mina grabbed your wrist to pull you out of the room, making you hiss in a breath and she froze, lowering her glances to check your sore wrists for any bruises.

“What did they do to you?”

You shook your head silently, and something in Mina’s gaze shifted. You had seen it only a couple of times, including that time you were getting stitches after some girls in your classroom had ambushed you in the bathroom, and more importantly, you had seen that look on her face when Lily had fever that one time and you all had to rush to the hospital and the doctors said she couldn’t see her.

It was fire, similar to yours, ready to burn everything in its path.

“Don’t say anything to anyone. You two,” she motioned at the two lawyers, “Read whatever she’s supposed to sign.”

The lawyers approached the desk by the door as Mina put her coat over your shoulders, rubbing at your arms as you swayed slightly on your feet, trying to focus.

“We’re leaving, okay sweetheart?”

“Miss—“

“No,” When Mina turned to the police officers and the BAU team, any trace of softness in her voice disappeared, “You don’t talk. If you don’t want to get into even more trouble, you’re going to listen to me right now.”

The officer that had been with you at the interrogation room just blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback.

“Do you have any idea what you just did to yourself?” she asked, “What you did to this whole precinct? Because allow me to explain, my sister was a victim in this scenario, and you tried to pin this shit on her to make her a scapegoat,” she shook her head, “We will be suing you for defamation of character—“

“Mina, your sister—” JJ started but she snapped her fingers at her.

“I haven’t even started with you yet, wait for your turn.”

“Mina…” you murmured but she didn’t even look like she could hear you,

“Where was I? Defamation of character because press will be all over this, intentional infliction of emotional stress and wrongful arrest and hey, to make things fun we will also be requesting the security footage in the interrogation room and if I see one very small slip of anything that wasn’t supposed to be said and done in that room…” Mina tilted her head, “Well, let’s just say that by the time I’m done with you guys and this whole precinct, the only thing you will be able to afford is going to be a typewriter and a desk.”

One of the lawyers came to tell you the document was alright to sign and as soon as you approached the desk, a door by the hall opened and Spencer stepped out.

It was almost excruciating not to be able to run to him. He looked as shocked as he was and he took a step towards you but JJ stepped in front of him as you grabbed the pen, ignoring the way your name spilled from his lips in a whisper.

“Oh, hi genius.” Mina called out, “Were you getting a glass of water while your team was hounding my sister or something?”

Spencer looked almost confused only for a moment before he turned to look at JJ who deliberately averted her glances from him.

“Mina, this is not necessary,” you croaked out as you signed the papers and she shook her head.

“No, this is very necessary, trust me. You need to show these people what you’re capable of or they will try to fuck you up, case and point.” She turned to Emily, “You’re the one in charge, I suppose?”

“I am.”

“Good. Consider this your warning, because the next time anyone in your team, including the puppy dog eyes over there gets any closer to my sister, we will be getting a restraining order for each and every one of you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, still swaying on your feet and you hugged the coat around you tighter.

Not that you could do anything other than watching this.

“Your sister is an active part of this investigation, your father specifically asked for—“

“My sister is a civilian,” Mina growled, “She has no responsibility for this case, you do. How about you surprise me and do your fucking jobs?”

You took a breath to say it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t their fault but Mina turned to look at you.

“Get in the elevator, we’re leaving.”

You were way too tired to fight her, way too tired to even stand there so you followed the army of lawyers to the elevator, while Mina shot the officers and the BAU members a fake smile.

“Pleasure, let’s never do this again,” she said, and got in the elevator with you, and you tried to keep your expression still, Spencer staring at you until the doors slid close.

“4 lawyers?” you managed to say, “I don’t think even Bundy had four lawyers.”

“Tell that to mom,” she said, “She was on the phone with a congressman the last I checked.”

You couldn’t even smile at that, but Mina let out a breath before pulling you into a bone crushing hug, making the tears rush to your eyes as you wrapped your arms around her.

“Never do that to me again, you hear me?” her voice cracked for the first time and you nodded slowly.

“I won’t,” you said, “I promise.”

***

It was as if someone had pulled all your energy out of your body. You were exhausted, you could barely understand what anyone was saying but you knew there was no way you could sleep anytime soon.

The blood test, as the lawyers had informed you, finally came back and just like you suspected, they had found traces of chloroform in your system. That and your team of lawyers combined were more than enough to get rid of any kind of accusations against you, so at least you had that.

On the other hand, the fear, the guilt, the sadness were still there inside of you, even if you felt way too numb to reach it.

You wondered if Spencer would have a scientific explanation for that.

Your mother had insisted you would never step a foot into your apartment again, she was already looking for a new apartment for you, one with multiple security systems and until that happened she had told you you would be staying at her house.

The damn thing was way too big anyway and you and Mina had grown up there so you figured it would serve as some sort of shelter.

If it even existed for you.

“Here you go sweetheart,” your mother pushed the tea cup towards you, “Drink it, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m fine.”

Kenzie heaved a sigh, “It’s okay if you’re not,” she said, “No one expects you to, anyone would be traumatized.”

“The real estate agent already sent me three apartments,” your mother said, “Huge windows, you love a bright apartment.”

“Mom,” Mina said silently and she heaved a sigh.

“It could help her distract herself,” her head shot up, “Y/N, you should go on a vacation! Somewhere far away from here.”

“Somewhere peaceful could be nice?” Kenzie added, “I think that’s a good idea.”

You and Mina exchanged glances.

“I heard Fiji is lovely this time of the year,” your mother said and you let out a breath.

“Mom, two people died because of me,” you croaked out, “I’m not going to Fiji for vacation.”

“Honey, you could use some peace,” she held your chin carefully and lifted it so that she could look at you better, “You look so…”

“I look like how I feel,” you said and turned your head when the doorbell rang, making Mina sit up straighter.

“Who’s that?” she asked when the maid walked in.

“Spencer Reid?”

“What?” you and Kenzie asked at the same time, your heartbeat getting faster and Mina jumped on her feet but you stopped her, shaking your head.

“It’s okay,” you sniffled, nodding to yourself, “It’s….it’s fine. There’s no point in dragging it out.”

“Dragging what out?” Mina asked you but you walked out of the living room and reached the front door, trying to ignore the warmth filling your system as soon as your eyes caught the sight of him. You stepped out of the house and he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his nose into your hair and inhaling deeply as if it helped him calm down while you just stood there, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

You had to do it. No matter how much it hurt you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

No matter how badly it would rip your heart out.

“You okay?” he asked you, his fingers pushing your hair behind your ear, “I tried your apartment but I figured…”

“Yeah, I’m not going back there,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll move out, it’s fine.”

“Do you want to stay at my place?” he asked quickly and you closed your eyes for a moment, every cell in your body begging you to change your mind.

You couldn’t though. You’d rather die than see him lying in a pool of his blood, all because of you.

“Don’t say that,” you whispered and opened your eyes again, “Please don’t say that.”

He looked almost confused, tilting his head to the side like a puppy before it dawned on him.

“Is this about the file on me?”

You shook your head and he took a deep breath.

“About today?”

“I didn’t send that message,” you said, “To Anthony, I mean. I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that.”

“And I didn’t kill him. I don’t know if you heard, but the blood tests came back positive for—”

“I never doubted that, not even for one second,” he insisted, “With or without blood test.”

“You might be the only one,” you murmured and he paused for a moment.

“What did JJ say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Because we had an argument on the jet on our way back here and whatever she said…”

You shook your head again, trying to smile.

“I get it,” you murmured, “She’s your best friend, she’s protective of you. That’s normal.”

“Yeah but if she thinks that you’re capable of—”

“I want to break up.”

You could swear the words burned your mouth, some invisible hand clutching your heart tighter and tighter as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the street, because you were sure that every wall you built to keep your emotions under control would crash down the moment you looked at him. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that he froze and he blinked a couple of times, as if he was lost.

“What?” he asked silently and you tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.

“Y/N, wait—no,” he said quickly, breathing hard, “Listen, whatever they said to you today during the interrogation, if that’s what this is about—”

“It has nothing to do with that,” you forced yourself to say, crossing your arms and he took a step closer to you.

“Whatever the problem is,” he rasped out, “We can solve it, okay? Don’t do this.”

That was when it dawned on you.

It wasn’t enough to push him away. You had to make sure to burn that bridge so that neither of you could ever find your way back to each other.

“It’s not one of your cases Spencer, you can’t solve this one,” you muttered and finally turned your head to look up at him, your stomach churning at the sight of betrayal on his face.

“I don’t understand.”

“You—it’s—“ you stammered, trying to find the words, “It’s going way too fast, alright? It’s going way too fast and it’s going to fucking crash, and I can’t—“ you cleared your throat when your voice cracked, “I’m not going to crash with this, I can’t.”

Your father had taught you this way too long ago, when you were too young to even question it.

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

Stab the prey.

“I mean come on Spencer, we’re not in love or anything,” you shrugged your shoulders, “Should be easy enough.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, his mouth slightly agape and his brows furrowed, shock written all over his face.

“We’re not in love?” he repeated, “You…you don’t love me?”

Twist the knife.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

His eyes searched your face, as if looking for any kind of clue that could tell him you were lying, or that it was a trick but for once, it was in vain.

You’d had spent years learning how to control your emotions and your expression when it came to heartbreak.

Pull it back.

“It’s not my fault if you’re in love,” you said, each word making you hate yourself more and more, “I can’t be held responsible for that.”

Stabbing yourself would’ve been less painful, you were sure of that but you knew you had to keep going. One last step, one last sentence and you would be done.

Watch them bleed.

“I never told you to love me.”

Then, silence.

You had to give it to him though, it took him faster than it would’ve taken you to pull yourself together if you were the one on the receiving end of this. He blinked back the tears, clenched his jaw and in a second, his gaze turned cold, exactly like yours.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, nodding, “You didn’t.”

But you had forgotten one small detail.

Spencer knew how to withdraw that knife and stab back.

You cleared your throat and turned around to get inside the house but before you could step in, you heard his voice.

“I was wrong.”

You looked over your shoulder, clutching at the straws to keep it together, “I’m sorry?”

“I was wrong,” he stated, his voice was distant and held no trace of its usual warmth, “Before, I mean. In terms of behavior and psychology, you’re exactly your father’s daughter.”

With that, he walked away from the house, and you just stood there for a moment before stepping into the house and closing the door behind you, that comfortable haze of shock slowly withdrawing from your mind like mist. That hand squeezing your heart twisted it in your chest and you tried to breathe, pressing a hand on your chest.

“Sweetheart?” your mother called out as she stepped into the hallway, then slowly approached you, “You okay?”

It was impossible to stop the tears rushing to your eyes now and a gasp escaped from your lips as you shook your head.

“Mom,” you whimpered, “Please, my—my heart hurts...”

She rushed to you and shushed you gently, pulling you into a tight hug and caressing your hair as you slipped to the ground and you buried your face to her shoulder.

Then the sobs came.

Chapter 18

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer imagine #spencer imagines #reid #spencer #reid x you #reid x reader #reid imagine #criminal minds imagines #twisted

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satorinnie · 3 years ago

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friendship between rawenclaw!reader and slytherin! suna

featuring; our favorite boy suna

warnings; just some wholesome friendship headcannons cause why not :>

note; this a very spur of the moment headcannon post (also my first time doing one) so enjoy >:)

okay, suna definitely brings out the playful side in you, always annoying you to the brink of just giving in to his activities like playing hide-and-seek on the hogwarts express

now this isn’t any playful type of one tho. both of you are adamant on taking it seriously and using top notch strategies to win the game so it usually gets very intense to the point where every other passenger gives up on trying to stop you both

you also add in bets on who will win since you both have a pride you don’t let go off. suna usually bargains for a packet of jelly sticks or anything related to food, while you just tell him to leave you alone without games for a week to get your peace back. (ps. it usually ends up with him winning)

you guys also always do you homework in the library together. suna wasn’t a dumb student but he also wasn’t the brightest one which always led you to tutoring him or just letting him copy of your work, but that doesn’t mean you don’t mess with him

you argue its for his sake! if the teacher sees his answers are the same as your they’ll definitely punish him, so you take it upon yourself to give him the wrong answers from time to time

suna: what’s the answer to 27?

you: merlin’s ass

suna still writes that answer down not even thinking if its wrong or not. he just trusts you that way lmao

making weird faces at each other from across the great hall. im sure this would be canon if real, it doesn’t need more explanation

suna always manages to find you in the huge halls of the school and knock the books in your hands from behind you. when you get down to collect them and see suna above you with a smirking expression; suddenly the books are forgotten and the only thing on your mind is murdering that bastard alive considering the amount of times he’s done it

and when you don’t manage to catch up to him (which is usually the case) he goes back to collect the books laying on the ground because he feels bad :// he gives them to you during lunch break with your favorite snack placed on top. you could never resist the look he gives you (enter the puppy dog eyes) with a flick on the forehead you accept his apology despite him continuing this habit.

complicated. handshakes. that’s all. it includes legs, hands, hips, heads, idk add in everything. it takes you weeks to form it and weeks to memorize it but its something special to you both so you cherish it

it was suna’s idea but you both know each other’s dorm passwords for emergency cases, tho %99 of the time its just suna coming in secretly to steal some stuff from your secret food stash bcs he’s hungry or he just wants to share the latest gossip at 2am bcs its that important

being sarcastic 25/8. literally not any of your conversations are serious

one day you went to his dorm at night to lay down next to him bcs you felt a little scared with the lighting and asked him “will you ever fall in love”

he answered it with “i can’t even fall asleep”

he always annoys you for you attention; anywhere, anytime. may it be class, recess, lunch, or even your sleep time. pokes anywhere on your body, throws paper balls or planes across the classroom; his target being your head. he’ll bug you during lunch so you’ll buy him jelly stick or share from your secret stash (he doesn’t mention how he already steals from there) or even moaning in the back of the class or doing something stupid and blaming you if caught

yeah he’s that kid

but nevertheless, despite being sarcastic all the time around school, behind closed doors you have deep, real, and meaningful chats about life in general. he somehow has a poetic side to him and his explanations on certain topics always manages to amaze you

you both trust each other a lot so you can be real about your feelings and how you feel about certain stuff. he always listens with an open ear never missing a second of your talk. suna is a good listener and he always makes you feel valued during those moments

overall you guys have a very wholesome and lovable friendship that every other student envies bcs yall are that cool and amazing lol

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achillieus · 4 years ago

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, heavy sexual references, implied depression, infidelity, this one is very angsty, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is not my favorite but it also is

part: 4/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

When you both go to sleep that night,

What you say to yourselves:

It is just a kiss.

The truth:

Sebastian can’t forget your scent and your taste. And it’s everywhere. And it’s everything. He’s not sure if he can breathe anymore. He tries to put himself together but he loses; he lets a moan escape his quivering lips, as he comes hard, alone in bed, your lips a picture in his head.

You can’t forget his warmth. He’s long gone but his heat is making your body sweat. And it’s becoming annoyingly addictive. You try to fall into a dreamless sleep but you can’t. You grab onto your sheets, trying to shallow down his name when you have two fingers inside you.

It’s a study in remorse and guilt.

“Please breath,” you whisper in front of the bathroom mirror. “Breath in. And out.”

It’s been two days and one night since the doomed night. You have not heard of him ever since.

Your heart beats with the power of war tambours. You want to find him and tell him you’re sorry. You want to promise you don’t mean to cause any trouble to him. You want to let him know you don’t belong in his life. He will pass through you like cars pass red lights.

Violently.

“I’ll find him tomorrow.” You lie down and rest. “I’ll tell him everything tomorrow.”

Argyris can see the disorder reflecting in Sebastian’s eyes the second they pass in front of your door.

The Romanian drops his eyes on the floor and quickens his pace. Argyris is smart enough to not comment on it; at least not when they have an all night shooting in a while. He doesn’t want to distress him.

He doesn’t have a choice though; because Sebastian stops as soon as they reach the third floor.

“I’ve made such a mess.” His voice can’t give away how nauseous he feels.

Argyris exhales loudly. This is precisely what he was afraid of. This is precisely what he had warn you both about.

“It’s not the right time” he starts quietly “We have a lot to do.”

Sebastian sighs.

He feels as though there will never be a right time for the two of you.

You can’t sleep. The sky is dark behind your closed windows. It’s almost four in the morning and everything around you is quiet; until it’s not anymore.

You can hear people laughing as they enter the building and you can hear the lady from the first floor yelling at them.

Suddenly you’re thankful for the terrible insulation as the whole place grows alive at the sound of noise. You’ve grown tired of silence.

You slowly open your door. You want to hear more.

Argyris is trying to apologize when the old woman starts calling them uncivil. You want to laugh.

But then you hear steps coming closer and, in a breath, he’s standing right in front of you.

“Did we wake you up?”

The others are still arguing in the lobby.

No, I couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking of your lips.

“Yes. All the noise scared me.”

He comes closer. He tries to clear his head of images he creates at night. Images with you.

“I’m sorry.” He says and it sounds like his chest feels lighter afterwards “I’m sorry for the noise.”

You nod, a blank expression across your face.

“We went for a few drinks after the shooting and people got drunk and dragged themselves hear to continue the party. It’s not Argyris’ fault.”

You turn your head away from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a long time.

“I can bet that.” Your words feel heavy inside your mouth. “He has never caused any trouble before you came.” Your words feel bitter inside your mouth.

He laughs. He calls your name. It makes your throat dry.

“You can see that I’m not the one who’s drunk and arguing downstairs.”

The space between you two starts to dwindle.

“You should go.” You whisper. “There is no reason for you to be here.”

He says nothing for a while. He just stays there looking at you with an unreadable expression. His breathing hits your face. It feels cold.

“Right.” He answers, building his guard back up, posture fixed and face blank.

And then with one last glance he leaves you alone.

You wake up not much later, the sun meeting the horizon.

You clean the kitchen and you water your flowers. You decide to take a walk. You haven’t done that in a very long time.

Not a lot of people are awake at that time. The streets are almost empty. You find that comforting. You pass the familiar streets and there’s a heady feeling in the air; the mouthwatering smell of fresh bread in the small bakery, the sound of a dog barking and an old man carrying around a barrel organ.

Lately you seem to forget how much beauty there’s around. Lately you seem think true beauty is only a pair of light eyes and the sound of a foreign accent. You feel selfish; your ardor for him has blinded you and everything seems too little.

You feel stupid.

And then you blink and it’s Sunday and you remember Argyris telling you they’re leaving on Monday to shoot scenes in some islands. You can’t decide if you want them to leave sooner or never at all.

The latter makes you forget to breath.

You take a shower. But water never washes tears completely away. They stick to your body and your pores like leeches.

The white towel feels rugged against your skin and you think of throwing it in the trash can. You don’t.

Instead, you get dressed and make a sandwich for dinner.

A knock at your door stops you.

You’ve missed that sound.

You close your eyes.

You feel as if you’re being thrown back in time, to the first time he came at your doorstep.

There’s another knock.

Maybe it’s not him. You take a step. Even if it’s him, it’s a dead end. You place your fingers around the handle, without making any motion to unlock.

You stand there for some seconds. There’s no more knocking. You smile at yourself. You were always good at hiding behind closed doors. Maybe not good enough; because now you can hear him talk.

“I’m glad you’re not here�� his voice makes it sound like he’s aching “Or that you’re here and don’t want to open up.”

Your hand swifts around the knob.

“I’m glad, because if I was looking at you right now I would-”

He stops when he meets your gaze. You’re close now. And it’s hard not to wrap your arms around him, but you force yourself to just look straight ahead and do nothing.

“You would what?” You voice sounds like a mourning song.

You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair and lets a quite sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

He laughs and it’s dry and sharp. And then he grabs you by the shoulder and you’re both inside your apartment and he closes the door with a shudder.

His eyes are swollen and for a moment you’re scared. Only for a moment.

“Yes I am.” He still has his arm around your shoulder. “What do you want me to say? That I would do everything? That I would kiss even your eyelids?”

You’re shivering. You feel almost sick.

“I can’t say any of those things.” He swallows hard around the lump in his throat.

You look at him starry-eyed.

“You can.” You’re stepping closer to him. “You can say everything. There’s no one here. Just us.”

“That’s not enough.” He says, with a look that promises all the sorrow and the suffering in the universe.

Your face splits.

“Then why did you come?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

I know, you almost say. But he talks again, before you can say anything.

“I want you to come with us.”

You feel like choking on the world’s most expensive rosé. You start coughing.

He caresses your forehead, tucking some hair behind your ears.

“No, Sebastian, this is bad.”

His fingers can feel a tear dripping down your eyes and your cheeks and your lips. Slowly. He’s not certain if it’s yours or his.

“I know.” He blinks. “But we don’t have much time. And I want to be around you. We can try to be friends again.”

There's a feeling in your stomach that makes you want to throw up when he says the word friends. It makes your mouth taste sour. It's pathetic.

“I don’t know if I can do that.” You murmur.

And then his eyes pierce through yours.

And you think of that evening that you saw his eyes for the very first time. And you think how this version of events had never crossed your mind back then. Ever.

This was not supposed to happen.

You were not supposed to grow close to him.

And he was not supposed to show you the stars and dry out your salty tears.

And you were not supposed to kiss him.

And now he was not supposed to go.

“Please, promise me you’ll try to be friends with me.” He breaths into your lungs. “Promise me you’ll come.”

You smile softly. It reminds him of something sweet, like honey and cherries.

“I can try.”

Sebastian can feel his heart almost stop; like a clock that’s reminding him you do not have much time left together. This month will come and go and so will he.

And his heart knows.

So, he presses his forehead against yours and mumbles a sincere thank you.

It sounds poetic. But it’s more of a war declaration.

When you agreed to go with him on the trip, Sebastian fell into a world of bliss and anticipation. He had been worried you wouldn’t want to see him again after everything that occurred between you two. He had spent nights sleepless, just lying awake and trying to fathom things.

But not tonight. Tonight, he’s packing his bags and dreaming of the sea and you.

The sea. And you. Those are the things he loves most right now.

Love. It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only time allowed. But he has less than two months. He has calculated everything.

( 60 days )

( 59 nights )

He’ll probably never see you again afterwards.

He knows you were never meant to be.

He sighs.

The screen of his phone lights up and he’s certain it’s his girlfriend, because it’s 3am in Greece. Who else could it be? And that gives him an ache because he loves his girlfriend. But not right now.

He’s wrong though, it’s a message from you.

I’m sorry. I can’t come with you tomorrow. I’m sorry.

His heart falls.

It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only you allowed. Sometimes he thinks it’s better this way.

You read your message again and again. Your eyes scan each world like your whole life depends on them. You can’t go to the trip. It’d be like you set yourself up only to fall apart some time later. And you’d have no excuse. You don’t even know why you had said yes to him in the first place.

Perhaps because that’s what Sebastian wanted to hear and you love Sebastian. It’s very painful and all kinds of fucked up, but you do.

At first you try to close your eyes to it. You think, whatever it is between you, it’s not love. It must be something else.

But it’s not.

You always knew that.

Your heart splits at the realization.

Everyone is drinking and dancing. They finished shooting last night and Argyris decided to throw a small beach party. Once upon a time, Sebastian would have been thrilled about it. He always loved partying.

But those were the old days. All he can think about now, is a girl with braided hair and nails painted dark blue. That’s how you looked the last time he saw you.

It’s been a week since that time. It’s been a week and he’s getting desperate. And his curly haired co-star is moving her body too close for his liking. He’s trying to flee.

The woman smiles at him. He knows she probably asks for more than he can give. She smiles at him and she looks beautiful, so beautiful. He almost thinks it’s unfair and selfish of him to ignore such a beautiful smile.

But the woman’s hair is curly and not in a braid. And her nails are painted red instead of dark blue.

You don’t see him for one more week. You want to send him a message. Call him. Do something. You do nothing but check his Instagram profile almost every hour. It’s sort of becomes a habit.

At your room the walls whisper and scream about that night you fell asleep next to each other. You try not to listen.

Some nights you can picture him smiling at you and his smile feels far too heavy. Some nights you try to imagine a version of him that could grow old with you.

You can’t.

It’s 8:10 am. The first time you meet again. You call the elevator on your floor and when the door opens, he’s there. You didn’t even know he was back, before now. You almost get out and take the stairs instead. You hide yourself at the corner as far from him as possible. Sebastian notices for the first time how small you look.

“When did you come back?” Your mouth opens before you can stop it.

He turns to look at you. You can see he has a little tan. It looks great on him. Dammit.

“Last night.”

Your hands are shaking. You’ve missed his voice. Dammit.

Two more floors. You can make it.

You wait for him to turn his back at you again, but he doesn’t.

“Not coming with me,” his breathing breaks and his throat dries out instantly and he feels on the verge of collapsing “It didn’t help.”

It takes you a while to get what he’s saying. Why he’s saying it.

The elevator stops.

“Did it help you?” No, of course not.

“Sebastian, please.”

You try to say something more but his voice stops you.

“Do you know any quiet places?”

You nod.

“Take me.” You shiver. “Please.”

The door opens and he grabs your hand.

You think you’ll never really understand Sebastian. He’s been so many people with you. A pretty face on screen, a stranger and then a friend. And then a lover? Maybe.

Something intimate, anyway.

Intimate, in the way pain is.

You’re at a small park just behind your house.

His hair has grown the last few days and he’s playing with a strand. You watch him and he watches back. He puts one hand in the pocket of his jeans and another at your cheek.

You had almost forgotten how it feels. Soft and rugged simultaneously. Almost like a transfusion, it revives you.

“We’ve screwed up, haven’t we?” His voice sounds like an old song.

You think you can hear your bones straining under the weight of his words.

“Yes, I guess we have.” You try to smile at him. Your lips don’t move upwards though. They can’t. You can feel your eyes get wet.

Sebastian can’t bear looking at you like that. He puts his hand behind your neck and brings you closer.

At that moment, by falling into his arms, you lost the battle.

Your body is cold, worn down by all the sleepless nights. You’re not sure he knows exactly what you feel at this moment. Neither do you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the trip.”

“I understand.” He nods.

“Sebastian,” His breath hitches when you call his name. “I don’t know if I want to see you again.”

Lies.

He blinks. You don’t.

His face looks like he’s about to growl. Then his features relax.

A tear falls down your cheek and he’s quick to swipe it away. His eyes soften.

“I know,” he says in a whisper “We just keep hurting each other.”

You laugh bitterly. “When did I hurt you, Sebastian?” You push his hands away from your body. He doesn’t fight it.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“We spent the night together and you left without even saying something.” Your eyes are wide and rabid. “You keep acting like we’re something special and you have a girlfriend back home. And when I kissed you,” you pause for a second, remembering everything. “You kissed me back.”

You’re talking a little too loud. An old man passing by, turns to look your way. Your cheeks flash red.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Your heart clenches. “I’m so sorry. I needed you to kiss me.”

He takes your hands in his. He looks at you half like he wants to apologize, half like he wants to kiss you again. Maybe, he does.

“Every time I see you, I want you to kiss me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” Surprisingly his voice is steady and his hands grab yours tighter than before.

“It can’t be the truth.” You exhale roughly. “It will ruin everything.”

He looks at you for a while and then he does the most human thing possible; he wraps his arms around you. You hide your face at the crook of his neck.

Your breath hits his skin and it’s warm and tender.

“Not us.” He whispers in your hair. “It will save us.”

At that moment, Sebastian lost every battle.

Things you felt when Sebastian kissed you later that evening:

Divinity and tragedy. The feeling of going over the speed limit. The despair in his mouth. The booming in his heart. Fear for the distant future. His arms creating a shelter from the rest of the world. Affection. And affection. And affection.

Thing Sebastian felt when he kissed you later that evening:

Your heartache in his hands. The faded cherry lip balm in your lips. Your nails digging into his skin. A raw satisfaction. Madness and power. Your warmth making his heart beat fast. Freedom. And love, so much love.

It was never his intention to cheat on his girlfriend. Sebastian is not that kind of man. But then again, everyone is.

You try not to think about that while his mouth devours the skin above your collarbones. It makes your pores sweat and your core beat. Time spins by as you both lay on your bed.

It feels like he’s a sweet lover. Dewy eyes and warm fingertips. He makes love to you at sunset, when dreams start to form and cotton sheets stick to his skin. Yearning gets the best of him, his movements become sharper, his bones turn to steel.

You don’t mind. That’s what you need right now. Burning lips at the curve of your hips. You can almost taste it; the silage of his after shave. Eucalyptus. That’s what he tastes like.

He’s drawing archways in your skin. He touches the part between your breasts. Softly and gently at first. And then digging his teeth. He wonders if you want this as much as he does. It’s nearly tearing him apart. His ribs and his lungs are full of eagerness and you.

You, you, you.

To him, there’s nothing to do but kiss every inch of your body.

He knows there’ll be a cacophony soon. You’re both equipped with love that has an expiration date. But he wants to beat time. He wants to feel all of this for as long possible. For a minute, he becomes greedy. He wishes everyone would die, so that he and you could live in this world alone. But together.

It takes great strength to shake this thought out of his head.

“Please,” You say between heavy breaths and he's getting worried he's going to tell you he loves you. “Please I need you Seb.”

You've never called him that before. He can't decide if he likes that or the fact that you need him, more. He complies.

You feel him inside you as he's stroking between your thighs. You close your eyes, his heated sounds soothing everything. Your lips are red, from you biting at them.

He looks at you, with his hungry face and he finds everything about you so delicate and so beautiful.

He can keep going forever.

You're grateful.

Lying naked in your bed, you’re watching him struggle to keep his fevered blue eyes open. His hands still tangled in your hair.

The room smells of sweat and eucalyptus and everything in the universe feels softer.

“I think I love you.” He says, and as he falls asleep, he smiles. “I’ll tell you when I’m sure.”

“Please don’t.” That’s the most selfless you’ll ever be in your life.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :)

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan angst #bucky barnes imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #letyoudown

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 4 years ago

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somebody loves you for yourself

A/N: I have had this nicomas fic in my head and have been working on it basically since fwsa came out, and it’s finally done!! it’s like 7k of pure fluff and nico meeting the sides, enjoy! (title is from Wake Up, Sunshine by All Time Low)

Summary: On a relaxing date night with Thomas, Nico stumbles upon someone on the kitchen- someone who looked eerily like his boyfriend. Then he ends up meeting five more "Thomases," as well as finding out that there is so much of his boyfriend to love.

Warnings: flirting, kissing, hugging, cuddling, remus being remus, janus being all “we live in a society,” mentions of amazon being a not great company (lmk if anything should be added, otherwise this is pure fluff!)

Things had been going spectacularly well with the cute disaster gay Nico had met at the mall. Since that fateful meeting, the two had exchanged numbers, gone on more dates… and well, it had been a few months now and Nico was pretty sure that Thomas was it for him. He really couldn’t picture his future without Thomas somewhere in it. Nico wasn’t really sure what he’d do without Thomas’s infectious enthusiasm, how he could go a day without seeing the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his passions or the way pink would dust his cheeks when Nico used any term of endearment towards him… well now Nico was just waxing poetic now, wasn’t he? Sue him, he was a poet! And Thomas had irrevocably become his muse.

“I was rambling again, wasn’t I?” Thomas asked, startling Nico from his thoughts. The two of them were in Thomas’s apartment, Nico watching Thomas playing Kingdom Hearts. Well… it was more Thomas playing for a bit, then pausing the game to ramble about the lore and storyline of Kingdom Hearts. But Nico was more than content to listen and watch as Thomas gestured emphatically as he spoke. Although Nico admittedly got caught up in how Thomas’s voice was like audible sunshine, how Thomas could start literally glowing from excitement and Nico wouldn’t bat an eye… Thomas once confessed to him that he had thought Nico was radiant the first time he saw him, but Nico was pretty sure it was the other way around. Thomas was the radiant one, like a beam of sunlight that had gotten confused and taken human form.

“No, it’s okay! I like hearing you ramble, it’s cute! Although… I will admit that I might have gotten a little distracted by said cuteness and zoned out,” Nico replied with a sheepish laugh. Thomas flushed and let out a squeak, hands flapping excitedly for a moment before he covered his mouth, as if he were trying to hold back the squeak that he had already let out.

“You know I don’t know how to respond to compliments!” Thomas protested when he dropped his hands down from his mouth.

“Think of it this way, babe- if I keep giving you compliments, you’ll have more practice at responding to them! Besides, you’re unreasonably cute when you get all blushy and stimmy like this,” Nico said with a grin. Thomas squeaked again, this time opting to bury his whole face in his hands.

“This is RUDE I’m being ATTACKED!” Thomas exclaimed, voice muffled behind his hands. Nico chuckled, shaking his head at his boyfriend’s dramatics.

“Okay, okay, I’ll show mercy. I was gonna get some water soon anyway. Need anything while I’m up?” he asked. Thomas looked up from his hands then, face still flushed but looking less like he was going to melt.

“Nah, I’m fine, thanks though,” Thomas replied.

“Be right back,” Nico said, and with a kiss to Thomas’s cheek to fix the not-melting problem, Nico stood up and walked over to the kitchen. He flicked on the light, and he was still rather lost in his thoughts about Thomas that he didn’t notice the man sitting on the counter until he looked up and locked eyes with him. He was… Thomas?! Or at least, someone who looked eerily similar to Thomas. He wore a black hoodie with plaid purple patches and for a moment, Nico thought he had sparkly purple eyeshadow underneath his eyes. But then the man locked eyes with Nico and the eyeshadow was black. Nico let out a surprised yelp, the man sitting on the counter yelped back, and soon enough both of them were screaming.

“Uh… everything okay in here?” Thomas asked, frowning with concern as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t seem perturbed by the man on the counter, and Nico looked between them incredulously.

“So… were you going to tell me you had a twin, or was I just supposed to get scared half to death by finding him sitting on the counter?!” Nico demanded, unable to keep his voice from rising with mild panic. Thomas’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at the man, then back to Nico.

“You can see him?!” Thomas gasped. Nico’s expression twisted with confusion.

“Uh… kinda hard to miss an emo version of you sitting on the counter. Thomas, who is this and why are you so shocked that I can see him?” Nico asked, glancing to the man again, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to cease to exist at that present moment. But surprisingly, the man spoke up.

“He’s surprised because I’m part of him,” he said, and he even sounded like Thomas, but his voice was rougher and deeper.

“What do you mean, ‘part of him?’” Nico asked slowly.

“This is Virgil, he’s my anxiety. And up until now… I thought I was the only one who could see him,” Thomas explained. And frankly, this clarification just left Nico even more confused.

“So… your anxiety is somehow… personified? And is a real, actual person?” Nico asked.

“He’s not… ‘real,’ in that sort of sense, I thought he was more like… a figment of my imagination, or a projection of how I was feeling, anxiety-wise? Although he and the others are able to interact with the real world sometimes…” Thomas trailed off thoughtfully.

“Wait wait wait. Back up. Others?!” Nico exclaimed. Thomas instantly looked a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I- um, well…”

“We’re his ‘sides.’ Parts of his personality, basically. There’s Logan, Patton, Roman… and a few more,” Virgil explained, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves and eyes glued to the floor.

“Oh. Okay then… so are all of you just in his head the rest of the time? How come I haven’t seen any of you before?” Nico asked.

“We usually are in his head, yeah. But I don’t know why you haven’t seen any of us until now. Heck, me and Roman were with Thomas when he met you!” Virgil exclaimed, biting his thumb nervously after his rather panicked outburst.

“Wait, you were?” Nico asked, looking to Thomas for confirmation. Thomas smiled sheepishly, dropping his hand from the back of his neck.

“Yeah. In fact, Virgil was the one who pushed me to talk to you. And uh- I mean the ‘pushed’ part literally,” Thomas explained.

“Wait really? I just thought you were clumsy- not that being clumsy is a bad thing! Kinda endearing, actually,” Nico said, expecting the inevitable blush to travel over Thomas’s face- but what he wasn’t expecting was a squeak from Virgil and his eyeshadow turning sparkly and purple.

“I mean, to be fair I am a little clumsy sometimes,” Thomas said with a nervous laugh. Nico glanced between Virgil and Thomas, a bit of a playful smirk quirking on his lips.

“Well, whether your clumsiness is just you or your sides- I think you’re all around endearing,” Nico said, voice nearly a purr. Thomas let out a delighted little sound and flapped his hands with excitement, and Virgil outright giggled. If Nico hadn’t thought Thomas was everything to him before, he definitely thought so now with meeting one of his sides.

“Your eyeshadow turns purple and sparkly when Thomas is excited, that is adorable,” Nico cooed. Virgil let out a sound that was half giggle and half yelp, hiding his flushed face in his hands. After a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he peeked up at Nico, looking timid and insecure.

“You really think so?” Virgil asked quietly, tensing up as if he were afraid of the answer.

“I do think so. It makes sense after all… Thomas is adorable, therefore his sides are adorable too,” Nico replied with a shrug. Virgil let out an elated giggle, hands flapping excitedly- and in that moment, Nico knew that he was more than okay with Thomas having sides. It just meant there was more of him to love and appreciate.

Since meeting Virgil, Nico was determined to meet the rest of the sides. Thomas had explained that he could summon them whenever he wanted, but Nico insisted that they could just come to him on their own. He had felt a little bad about his first meeting with Virgil being so panic-inducing for all of them, and didn’t really want a repeat of that situation. But luckily, Nico didn’t have to wait that long to meet another one of Thomas’s sides.

Nico had been sitting at the table, idly chatting with Thomas while he was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them. Nico had offered to help, but being the sweetheart he was, Thomas insisted that he was more than happy to handle dinner. As they were talking, one of Thomas’s sides rose up into existence. This side wore glasses, a black polo, and a tie… Nico made a mental note to tell Thomas that he looked very good dressed a bit more formally.

“Thomas, please be sure to preheat the oven for the garlic bread this time,” the formally dressed side said. Then he looked over and seemed to notice Nico, and though his expression seemed carefully maintained and neutral, Nico could see his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Hi there!” Nico said, giving a small wave. A smile crept over the side’s face for half a second, but his expression quickly turned neutral again, and he adjusted his tie nervously.

“Hello. I am Logan, Thomas’s-”

“Wait! Don’t tell me which side you are, I wanna guess! It’s kind of like a puzzle… although I guess that’s kind of weird to say about part of your boyfriend’s personality…” Nico trailed off sheepishly. Logan’s face lit up, and this time it was purely unrestrained. If Nico could get heart eyes like a cartoon character, he certainly would have in this situation. Something about seeing this serious side of Thomas so excited… it made Nico’s heart flutter.

“Do you like puzzles?” Logan asked, sounding like he was trying not to seem too hopeful.

“I love puzzles!” Nico exclaimed. A grin took over Logan’s face, and with a wave of his hand, a puzzle appeared on the kitchen table. It was a Nightmare Before Christmas one of Jack Skellington’s face being made up of various scenes and characters from the movie.

“Oh- wait, I’m not sure if you’re going to be able to-” Logan’s sentence cut off abruptly when Nico reached out and took the lid off the top of the box.

“What were you saying?” Nico asked, setting the lid down and looking up to Logan. Nico could only describe his expression as calculating, but in a warm and endearing way.

“Fascinating,” Logan murmured, gazing at Nico. He felt his face heat up slightly at the attention, but was mostly feeling a little lost.

“Logan? What’s going on, buddy?” Thomas asked, observing the two of them from the other side of the kitchen counter. Logan blinked, shaking his head and looking a little sheepish.

“Apologies. I was rather fascinated that Nico was able to touch the puzzle box. I had momentarily forgotten that I am technically imaginary, and therefore anything I would summon would be imaginary as well. However, Nico seems to be able to interact with the puzzle,” Logan explained, and frankly Nico felt like he could listen to Logan talk for ages. He was so precise and professional with the way he spoke, but there was still an undercurrent of excitement and fascination.

“Maybe you guys are becoming more real, somehow?” Nico suggested.

“Perhaps, but you seem to be the only one who can see us. There have been some close calls with Joan and some of Thomas’s other close friends, but you have been the only one who has outright interacted with us,” Logan explained. Nico hummed thoughtfully as he began sorting out the puzzle pieces. Logan sat down with him and helped sort the pieces as well, flushing slightly as their hands brushed whenever they reached for the same pieces.

“Maybe it has to do with how close to Thomas someone is?” Nico asked. A contemplative expression came over Logan’s face.

“I am not responsible for Thomas’s emotions, so I would have no way of knowing. But that is a plausible theory,” Logan replied. Nico nodded, and went back to the puzzle for a few moments, sneaking a few glances at Logan every now and then.

“Well, you confirmed that you aren’t Thomas’s emotional side, and I know you aren’t his anxiety because I already met Virgil. And you seem to like Nightmare Before Christmas, but I’m not sure if that really contributes to which side you are,” Nico said, and was surprised to see Logan flush with mild embarrassment.

“I- while your skills of deduction are admirable, my reasonings for summoning a Nightmare Before Christmas puzzle was not because I enjoy the movie, but because you seem to. If the sticker on your laptop is any evidence to go by,” Logan admitted a tad sheepishly. This time it was Nico’s turn to blush, and he placed his hand over Logan’s with a grin.

“Logan, that’s so sweet! So tell me, what do you like?” Nico asked, squeezing Logan’s hand before removing it to continue the puzzle. Logan stared at his hand for a moment or two, then blinked and shook his head.

“I- erm, I do have an- an appreciation for mysteries and detective stories,” Logan replied, stumbling over his words slightly. Nico glanced up from the puzzle to see that Logan looked a little flustered, and a small smile came to his face at the sight.

“So let’s see… not emotional, seems very factual and is on the more serious side, likes puzzles, mysteries, and detectives… my guess is that you’re Thomas’s intellectual side,” Nico said. Logan’s face broke out into a grin and his expression lit up with pride, sending butterflies fluttering through Nico’s stomach.

“Correct! Although technically speaking, my official ‘title’ of sorts is that I am Thomas’s Logic,” Logan said, voice surprisingly warm and fond.

“Well then, Mr. Logic, shall we finish this puzzle?” Nico asked with a grin. A small smile slipped onto Logan’s face.

“I think we shall, Mr. Flores.”

Nico and Thomas had been having what they liked to call “joint creativity days.” The two of them would hang out in Thomas’s apartment while Thomas would work on a script for a video, while Nico would work on his songs or poetry. And it was on one of these joint creativity days that Nico met another one of Thomas’s sides.

“By the prophecies of Apollo, are you writing a sonnet?!” a hushed, yet excited voice piped up beside Nico. He looked over to see one of Thomas’s sides nestled rather close to him on the couch, eyes lit up with awe as he looked at Nico’s screen. The side in question was dressed like a stereotypical prince: white tunic with gold detailing, a bright red sash- but oddly enough, no crown.

“Well… I’m trying to. My songs aren’t really going anywhere, so I decided I’d try to do some poetry. But I’m getting tripped up on the syllables,” Nico said with a sigh.

“Why restrict your wondrous writing to the syllables of a sonnet? Although I do appreciate the Bard’s work,” the princely side asked.

“I thought giving myself some guidelines would help, otherwise I’ll feel like I have too many options and I don’t end up writing anything at all,” Nico said with a sigh.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re writing much with those guidelines- but this certainly is a good start!” the side said, eyes scanning over the words again. A thoughtful expression came over the side’s face, and Nico could practically see the creative gears turning in his mind. Wait… creative? Could he be- well, Nico should probably ask the side’s name before making any guesses.

“Oh gosh, what am I doing? I didn’t even ask for your name or anything!” Nico said with a sheepish laugh. The side blinked, startling slightly as he was torn from the partially written sonnet. His face broke out into a charming grin as he sprung to his feet, got down on one knee in front of the couch and took Nico’s hand in his. Nico thought he was flustered at the side’s actions- but then he spoke and Nico was fairly sure his face was burning.

“Prince Roman at your service, my fair poet,” he murmured with a kiss to the back of Nico’s hand. Nico let out a sound he absolutely refused to call a squeak.

“Where is this suave-ness when I’m trying to flirt with Nico?!” Thomas demanded indignantly. Roman stood up with a huff.

“Virgil can be very convincing when it comes to not flirting versus flirting!” Roman squawked indignantly.

“Good point,” Thomas replied with a sigh.

“Well, whenever you are comfortable enough to do it, the suave-ness is much appreciated by me,” Nico said, only sounding slightly strangled. Roman’s face lit up, and he clapped his hands together excitedly as he bounced on the balls of his feet (the lack of crown now made sense to Nico, with how much the prince seemed to move).

“Really?!” Roman squealed.

“Of course, Prince Roman- or should I say, Thomas’s creativity and passion?” Nico guessed with a grin. Nico thought Roman looked rather joyous before, but Roman’s expression turned positively ecstatic. Nico half-expected Roman to start glowing with how enthused he looked. He all but bounded forward to sit next to Nico again and hug him tightly- and then he pressed a kiss to Nico’s cheek. Nico’s face heated up once more… and okay, fine, he squeaked. Roman drew back from him quickly, looking completely mortified.

“I have never thought about a single decision I have ever made,” Roman said, voice coming out quiet and mildly strained. Nico gave Roman a comforting smile, and took the prince’s hand and squeezed it gently. Roman’s tensed form instantly relaxed, but he still looked a little distraught.

“I don’t mind a little spontaneity, your highness,” Nico murmured, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of Roman’s hand. A sound between a gasp and an exclamation left Roman’s lips and a delightful pink flush grew over his cheeks.

“I- Nico, you- I…” Roman rambled, seeming at a loss for words. Nico smiled warmly and leaned over to kiss Roman’s temple… and well, it looked like Roman wasn’t going to be formulating words any time soon.

“Nico! Now I’m really not going to get any work on this script done!” Thomas said with a laugh, setting his laptop aside.

“I can’t help that my boyfriend and his sides are so handsome and lovely! It makes complimenting you so easy,” Nico said, flashing Thomas a grin. Thomas squeaked, blushing just as brightly as Roman.

“This is DISTINCTLY not fair!” Roman pouted, which was frankly adorable in Nico’s humble opinion.

“You started it, dear Prince,” Nico hummed with a shrug, turning back to his sonnet. Nothing like a little mutual flirting and flustering to get the writing motivation flowing.

Halloween was approaching, which meant that pumpkin patches started opening up. So Nico came up with the date idea of going to a pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins afterwards. And was the main purpose of this date to wear cute fall clothes and take pictures with Thomas? Maybe. But Nico also really loved Halloween and carving pumpkins, so really it was a win-win.

Nico took pumpkin carving very seriously, so he was meticulous when it came to choosing a pumpkin. Thomas had already chosen his, and was watching on fondly while Nico pondered over the pumpkins. Nico had narrowed down his choices to two pumpkins when a voice piped up beside him.

“Having trouble picking there, pumpkin?” the voice asked, and Nico glanced over to see one of Thomas’s sides crouched beside him. Nico couldn’t think of any other way to describe this side other than a dad with an affinity for cats. He wore glasses, a blue polo, khakis, and a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders. Nico blinked at the side with mild confusion.

“Was that… a pun?” Nico asked. The side let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeahhh… not my best one. Oh hey! Can I just say that you look gord-eous today?” he said with a grin. Against his will, Nico’s face flushed and a giggle escaped his lips.

“You have a dad side?” Nico said, standing and turning towards Thomas with a laugh of disbelief. Thomas let out a sheepish laugh.

“Well, he’s technically more than that… but pretty much yeah,” Thomas replied.

“I didn’t think you or your sides could get any more adorable,” Nico said with a grin. Thomas flushed slightly, and a squeal came from the side beside Nico.

“Oh kiddo! You’re so sweet!” he cooed. Nico turned to the dad side with a slightly mischievous grin.

“Am I sweet as… pumpkin pie?” he asked. Thomas’s side giggled, while Thomas groaned at the pun.

“I’d say you’re even sweeter! My name’s Patton, by the way,” he said, holding out a hand to Nico. He looked at the offered hand, then to Patton’s face.

“Sorry Patton, but I don’t think a handshake is gonna do. Could I have a hug instead?” Nico asked. Patton’s face lit up like a child’s did on Christmas, and he pulled Nico into his arms with an elated sound. Thomas was a good hugger, Nico always felt safe and loved in his arms- but hugging Patton was that feeling times a thousand. Patton just radiated care and comfort, and Nico hadn’t really thought he needed a hug earlier, but part of him felt absolutely relieved to be hugged. One of Patton’s hands came up to gently card through Nico’s hair, and he all but purred at the touch.

“I’m not getting Patton back anytime soon, am I?” Thomas joked.

“No,” Nico replied with a slight pout, hugging Patton tighter.

“No complaints here!” Patton said, and Nico could hear his smile in his voice.

“I mean, to everyone else it probably looks like you’re hugging the air,” Thomas pointed out with a chuckle. Nico sighed, and regretfully drew away from Patton.

“That’s okay, I can always hug you later when there aren’t people around!” Patton chirped with a sunny grin. Okay, so Patton was definitely the side responsible for Thomas being like a ray of sunshine that came to life. But Nico had no clue as to what part of Thomas that made Patton. His kindness, maybe? But Nico had a feeling that Patton was more than that, that there was something more than the puns and cheerful attitude.

“I’ve gotta say Patton, you’ve got me a little stumped. Puns, sunny disposition, kindness… but I feel like there’s something more to you than that, something more specific that I can’t quite put my finger on,” Nico hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you want a hint?” Patton offered. Nico pondered this for a moment or two, then nodded.

“Sure, just don’t give it to me too easily,” he replied. Patton grinned, clapping his hands together excitedly.

“Yay! Well Nico, I just wanted to say that I am morally obligated to tell you that I heartily look forward to our next hug!” Patton exclaimed. Nico blinked in mild confusion, getting the feeling that Patton had used two puns in his hint. He pondered Patton’s sentence for a moment or two, regarding the side with a contemplative look.

“Are you… his morals? Or his heart?” Nico asked, more thinking out loud rather than settling on an answer.

“Both! Well, ‘officially’ I’m Thomas’s morality, his sense of right and wrong- but I’m his heart too!” Patton chirped.

“I knew there was something more to you than really good hugs and dad jokes,” Nico replied with a grin. Patton giggled, face flushing ever so slightly as he fiddled with the sleeves of his cat hoodie.

“Well, to be fair… I am mostly that sort of stuff,” he said, sounding a little sheepish. Nico regarded Patton with a concerned expression. Something about Patton’s demeanor… it struck Nico that perhaps the side didn’t think of himself all that highly. Maybe it was a bit of a stretch to assume, considering he had just met him, but there was insecurity in every fiber of his stance.

“Maybe, but it takes a lot of wisdom to deal with moral issues. You can be smart and silly, it’s not a dichotomy,” Nico said with a soft smile. Patton’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and Nico was vaguely startled to see that it looked like he was going to cry.

“Oh- I- well… well Logan’s the smart one, not me,” Patton protested, though his voice was soft and hopeful.

“Sure, Logan is logic and facts, and ‘traditional’ intelligence… but there’s a lot of different types of intelligence. You seem to lean towards emotional intelligence, which does make you smart and caring- plus you must be pretty witty to come up with puns,” Nico said, still smiling softly.

“Oh,” Patton said softly, eyes still wide and the beginnings of a smile on his face. Patton stood still for half a moment, then rushed forward to hug Nico. This hug felt completely different than the one Nico had received earlier. This time, Patton felt so small in his arms, instead of being all-encompassing comfort. Patton was the one who needed the comfort here, to know that just because he was sweet and silly, it didn’t mean he wasn’t important. Nico hugged him back tightly, reaching a hand up to run through his hair, mirroring what Patton had done with him earlier. Nico looked to Thomas over Patton’s shoulder- and was shocked to see an expression that had been eerily similar to Patton’s- disbelieving yet hopeful. Then it hit Nico- the sides’ insecurities were Thomas’s too, at least on some level. He squeezed Patton tighter and smiled at Thomas comfortingly. There was so much of Thomas to love- and Nico was determined to show Thomas that he loved every part of him.

Thomas and Nico were curled up on the couch, Thomas’s arm around him with his head resting on top of Nico’s. They were having a rather relaxed evening by watching The Lion King, arguably one of Nico’s favorite Disney movies (other than Nightmare Before Christmas, of course). What made this particular viewing of The Lion King so enjoyable was Thomas softly singing along to the songs and his laughter at various parts of the movie. They had gotten to “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” in the movie when Nico heard some snickering from off to the side. Nico looked over to see a mustached side with a white streak through his hair hiding behind the couch. Out of all the sides Nico had met so far, he looked the most different from Thomas. Yet something about him reminded Nico of Roman- they definitely seemed to have a similar style, as something about the side seemed regal with the elaborate black tunic and electric green sash.

“What are you giggling about?” Nico asked. The side merely cackled, wiggling excitedly behind the couch.

“You’ll seeeeeee,” he crooned. Thomas looked over to the side with an apprehensive look and sighed.

“Remus-” Thomas started, but the side (Remus?) quickly shushed him. Thomas huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes, snuggling back into Nico. They continued watching the scene for a little while longer until Remus broke down into giggles, causing Thomas to sigh again.

“What’s so funny?” Nico asked, glancing between the television and Remus. They had gotten to the part of the song where Simba and Nala had rolled down the hill together, and Nico couldn’t quite figure out what was so amusing about that.

“Oh come on, Nala was totally asking Simba to hakuna her tatas with those bedroom eyes she was giving him,” Remus cackled. Thomas’s expression was twisted with a mixture of disgust and disappointment, while Nico couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Both Thomas and Remus looked surprised at his reaction, but Nico was too busy laughing to really wonder why.

“Hakuna her- oh my goodness how did I never think of that-” Nico said between laughs.

“And you said it would be a bad idea if I talked to Nico!” Remus scoffed with a grin.

“Cause I thought you would traumatize him, not- not whatever is happening here!” Thomas protested.

“What is happening here is that I am hilarious,” Remus shot back, his grin turning more smug than chaotic. Nico finally managed to stop laughing and catch his breath, looking to Remus with an inquisitive look.

“So you’re- what, pure chaos and humor? You also remind me of Roman in a weird way… I can’t quite puzzle you out,” Nico pondered. Remus opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by an indignant voice from the end of the couch.

“I resent that, I am NOTHING like him!” Roman exclaimed, crossing his arms and pouting slightly.

“Hey! I’m talking to Nico now, you got to meet him a few days ago!” Remus shouted back. Roman and Remus quickly devolved into childish bickering, sounding more like a pair of kids than two sides of a grown man.

“This is the first time I’ve seen your sides interact with each other, do they always bicker like this?” Nico whispered to Thomas, gaze darting between Roman and Remus as they continued to argue.

“More or less, but these two are a… special case,” Thomas muttered.

“I am quite special and spectacular, thank you,” Roman said, abandoning his argument with Remus to turn to Thomas and Nico.

“Pretty sure ‘special’ was not a compliment there, Ro-Bro,” Remus huffed. Roman let out a dramatic groan, looking to Remus his nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Why did you call me ‘Ro-Bro’, I know you have the capability to be cleverer than that,” Roman huffed.

“Well it’s true! Your name is Ro, and you’re my bro! And Thomas told me I couldn’t traumatize Nico,” Remus pouted.

“Wait, ‘bro?’ Like you guys are actually brothers?” Nico blurted, interrupting the argument before it could really begin.

“Unfortunately,” Roman huffed.

“Well I think I am an absolute delight to have as a brother,” Remus shot back, sticking out his tongue.

“More like an absolute fright!” Roman fired back.

“Awww, you called me a fright! That’s gotta be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Remus chirped, seeming genuinely pleased. Roman let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Please don’t scare off Thomas’s boyfriend?” Roman huffed. To Nico’s surprise, Remus flushed slightly.

“I won’t,” he muttered. Seeming satisfied, Roman sunk out, leaving Thomas and Nico with Remus. Nico turned to look at Remus who seemed… uncharacteristically sheepish. Nico hadn’t really known Remus for all that long, but something told him that he wasn’t the type of side to be particularly bashful.

“So… Remus. Roman’s your brother? Does that mean you guys have similar functions?” Nico asked with a contemplative expression. Remus squirmed semi-uncomfortably for a moment or two before huffing out a sigh.

“I guess so. Technically,” he said with a slight pout. Nico regarded him with a concerned eye. Remus seemed just as unwilling to admit that he had any similarities to Roman as Roman was unwilling to admit that he had any similarities to Remus.

“So you’re creativity too? But Thomas and Roman both said something about scaring or traumatizing me… so you’re Thomas’s darker creative thoughts?” Nico asked.

“Yup. But I’m his intrusive thoughts too. Y’know, those random little thoughts you get about how easy it would be to stab somebody while they’re helping you do the dishes and you happen to be drying a knife,” Remus replied, his strange melancholy demeanor shifting to something more malicious and chaotic as he spoke. Nico was suddenly reminded of the other day when he was helping Thomas do the dishes after dinner, and how Thomas had dropped a knife like it had burned him while he was drying it. Nico had fussed over him and asked if he was okay, and Thomas just blamed it on clumsiness. But now Nico could see that there was a bit more to Thomas lurking beneath the surface. Nico knew that Thomas would never hurt him- if the immense guilt and shame currently written over his face was anything to go by- but it did hurt Nico’s heart a bit to know that Thomas struggled with such thoughts and felt ashamed to talk about it.

“Well… just because you think such things doesn’t mean you’d ever do them, and thinking those sorts of things doesn’t make you an irredeemably bad person either. Plus it’s not a bad thing to have a darker imagination! Stories can’t be all sunshine and rainbows, sometimes you’ve gotta have a little darkness to even things out,” Nico explained in a soothing tone, relieved when both Thomas and Remus perked up.

“Really?” Remus asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Really! Trust me, I’m a poet. And poets love writing about dark stuff, just look at Edgar Allan Poe! He’s one of my inspirations, did you know that?” Nico asked, grinning when Remus’s face lit up.

“Me too! The Tell-Tale Heart is one of my favorites of his!” Remus exclaimed, beginning to chatter away about hearts beneath floorboards and birds that foretold death. Thomas muttered something about Nico providing Remus more nightmare fuel to torment him with, to which Nico happily placated him with a peck on the cheek and the promise to defend him from any nightmares.

On more than one occasion, some of Nico’s friends had enthusiastically recommended the show Good Omens to him. As it turned out, Thomas’s friends were also recommending the show to him. So they both figured it could be something they could experience together. Watching Good Omens had become a bit of a weekend tradition, and they were now halfway through the show. Nico was getting popcorn ready in the kitchen, while Thomas fussed over the television setup. For whatever reason, Thomas seemed to be struggling with pulling it up… no, that wasn’t quite it. Thomas seemed strangely hesitant about pulling up Amazon Prime onto his television.

“Something up, babe?” Nico asked as he carried the popcorn into the living room.

“No! No, I’m fine,” Thomas replied, a little too quickly as he queued up the show and sat down on the couch. For a brief moment, Nico could have sworn he heard a chilling laugh and a flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to follow it, there was nothing there. Shaking his head, Nico sat down beside Thomas and instantly cuddled into his side, popcorn still in hand.

“Sure doesn’t sound like you’re fine,” Nico said, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head up to meet Thomas’s eyes. He fidgeted for a moment or two before replying.

“Just saw an article the other day about Amazon, that’s all,” Thomas said with a sigh.

“Yeah, Jeff Bezos is a crummy guy, and unfortunately we live in a capitalist world where there is no such thing as ethical consumption,” Nico said, tone grim and melancholy.

“He’s right, Thomas. After all- what’s the phrase? Ah yes… ‘we live in a society,’” a voice crooned. Nico jumped, nearly spilling the popcorn in the process, and looked over to see one of Thomas’s sides seated on the far end of the couch. The side’s appearance absolutely radiated “stereotypical villain” with the bowler hat, capelet, and yellow gloves- but Nico couldn’t help but be reminded of Crowley due to the scales on half his face and the piercing yellow snake eye. And he wasn’t sure why, but something in the way the side regarded Nico made him flush ever so slightly.

“Janus…” Thomas trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he felt a headache coming on.

“Now Thomas, we could be avoiding this guilt if we had just pirated the show like I insisted. But instead, we’re kissing up to-” the side- Janus- started, but was cut off by Thomas.

“There are… good points to what each of you are saying. But like I said before, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. If we spent our time trying to debate the moral standards of each and every piece of media we consume- well, we wouldn’t really have anything to consume. And that doesn’t mean we should outright ignore things like a company treating their workers terribly, but we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over something that isn’t in the realm of our immediate control either. Instead, what we can do is sign petitions and look into how else we can support underpaid and overworked workers. Besides, Good Omens is arguably queer, Neil Gaiman himself has made that pretty clear. We don’t get much of that,” Nico pointed out. Thomas and Janus seemed to ponder this for a moment or two, until Janus’s face broke into a sly grin that definitely had Nico blushing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But pirating makes Virgil freak out cause what if I end up getting a virus when I download the show from a sketchy website and then all my data gets stolen, and then-” Thomas rambled, before Janus butted in.

“And Patton prattles on about how pirating is stealing, and stealing is wrong- but tell me, stealing from a corrupt company makes a right, don’t you think?” Janus said, gaze flicking to Nico for confirmation.

“I think I underestimated you, Mr. Flores,” Janus purred, and Nico’s face was absolutely burning at this point.

“And I thought Roman was handsome and charming,” Nico said in a strangled whisper, not really meaning to say what he was thinking out loud, but was glad he did when the human side of Janus’s face turned a bright red.

“I- erm. That’s- whatever,” Janus scoffed, examining his gloves in an excuse to not meet Nico’s gaze.

“Y’know, that’s impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless,” Thomas commented dryly. Janus merely hissed at Thomas in reply, and Nico couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well what I think is impressive is that you have a snakey crime side,” Nico said between laughs.

“Flatterer,” Janus accused, although he was absolutely preening at Nico’s comment.

“Maybe I just think my boyfriend and his sides deserve to be flattered,” Nico replied with a shrug. Thomas let out a flustered giggle, and Janus’s human side of his face was quickly turning red again.

“Well, obviously he does. I knew that,” Janus said, trying (and failing) to seem aloof.

“The flattering also includes you here, Janus,” Nico said with a chuckle.

“Really? Oh, I’m not sure about that,” he replied, smiling coyly. Nico grinned wickedly, and Thomas glanced between Nico and Janus in a mix of mild confusion and intrigue.

“Then I’m sure you’d absolutely hate to hear that I find you incredibly stunning,” Nico purred.

“Careful there, angel- lest you fall prey to the snake in the garden,” Janus replied with a grin, flashing fangs that Nico was pretty sure weren’t there before. His brain was a little too busy re-playing the way Janus had purred “angel” on loop to actually remember.

“Speaking of snakes in gardens and angels- are we ever going to get around to watching Good Omens today or not?” Thomas asked with a chuckle.

“In a minute! I haven’t figured out which one of your sides Janus is yet,” Nico protested, shaking off his flusteredness to regard Janus with a curious eye.

“Oh please, as if you could ever unravel the marvelous mystery that is-”

“Let’s see, sneaky, snarky, dramatic, cunning, wants to encourage Thomas to commit minor crimes… anything else I’m missing?” Nico asked, cutting Janus off.

“... you forgot s-s-snakey,” Janus pouted. Nico broke into giggles at the sudden shift in Janus’s demeanor.

“Right, you’re right, sorry. So… you’re his… trickery and cunning side?” Nico tried. Janus pondered his answer for a moment or two, before he broke into a pleased grin.

“Well, I do encompass those things as well, I suppose. So I’ll give it to you- but formally, I am Thomas’s Deceit,” he said, tipping his hat to Nico.

“Pleasure to meet you, Deceit. Well, with that settled, we can watch Good Omens now!” Nico said, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Janus looked surprised for a moment or two before he shook it off and his expression was back to smug indifference.

“Well, I suppose I can be tempted to stay,” Janus said, sinking out for a moment before reappearing next to Nico. After setting the popcorn on the coffee table first, Nico grabbed one of Janus’s hands to pull him into the cuddling he and Thomas were currently engaged in.

“Hey, you’re just letting him stay cause you want double the cuddles!” Thomas teased.

“What makes you say that?” Nico asked as he wrapped an arm around Janus- while more arms than were normal for a human being wrapped themselves around Nico.

“Don’t lie to a liar, darling,” Janus crooned as he snuggled himself into Nico’s chest. Thomas rolled his eyes fondly, and with his lingering guilt about Amazon aside, the three of them settled in to watch Good Omens.

Thomas and Nico were on a walk in a park nearby Thomas’s place, holding hands and swinging them idly between them every once and a while. Every now and then Nico would catch Thomas giving him an incredibly sappy look- but really, Nico couldn’t blame him. After all, he was sure his own expression was as equally lovestruck.

“So, have I met all of your sides yet?” Nico asked, the question meant to be casual, but he was surprised when Thomas’s face twisted with concern and mild guilt.

“Well… you’ve met all the ones I’ve met. There’s still other parts of me that I have yet to confront,” Thomas said with a sigh.

“That’s okay! Learning about yourself is an ongoing process! And to put you at ease, there isn’t a part of you that I’ve met that I don’t love,” Nico said with an unabashedly adoring smile. This admission halted Thomas in his tracks, and he looked to Nico with wide eyes.

“Really?” he asked softly.

“Really,” Nico murmured, pulling Thomas into a kiss. Thomas made an elated sound against his mouth, holding Nico close as they kissed. When the kiss broke, he didn’t go very far, leaning his forehead against Nico’s.

“I love you too, you know,” Thomas said sheepishly.

“I know,” Nico replied with a grin, then gave Thomas another quick kiss before pulling away. He grabbed Thomas’s hand again, and the two of them continued their walk, hopelessly in love with every single part of the other.

Sanders Sides Tag List (send an ask/dm me to be added/removed!): @4amanxiety @adorably-angsty @alix-the-skeleton @allthemetalsoftherainbow @anxious-fander-bean @armageddonhascome @backatthebein @bangthekobrakid @bloodropsblog @cefinitely-rolo @coffeestudylive @cosmic-chu @cyndaquil17 @dani-jeanso @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @every-day-insomniac @fandomsandanythingelse @flix-net @freekiphotography @freepaperie081 @giant-motha-fuckin-snake @hanramz-the-fander @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa @i-need-a-social-life-2710 @i-really-dig-the-purple @ironwoman359 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @k1ngtok1 @kanejandkruge @kitsuneprideleader @kittycake574 @le2712 @littlemiracle05 @loganpatton @look-its-meme @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @lynlinked @mewsicalmiss @midnightcandy @moonstonefox @musicsavedmefromdeath @mystrangedarkson @nightmarejasmine @not-as-smart @of-treble-and-dragons @punsterterry @purplepatton @quoth-the-sparrow @radioactivehelena @royallyanxious @ruuworld @sanders-trash-4ever @save-me-oh-dream-of-mine @shadowsfromthesun @shygirl4991 @sleepyssnail @softbludemon @softnic @sombraplayslazertag @sos-fandoms @sweetkirbi @that-one-garbage-nerd @theatresweetheart @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @thelowlysatsuma @theresneverenoughfandoms @thisrandomperson102 @thuriweaver @vigilantvirgil @virgilantanon @yetanother-fangirl

#sanders sides #nicomas #sanflores #karrot kings #thomas sanders #nico flores #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #fluff #sage writes

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years ago

Text

Of Monsters and Men (pt. 1)

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier travel to a small seaside village after being hired to take care of a monster that has been terrorizing the villagers for months. However when they arrive, Geralt finds that the monster in question isn’t so easy to kill.

A/N: This was getting to be quite lengthy, so I decided to split it into parts. This is the story I wanted to write when I first started watching the Witcher on Netflix and I am nervous and excited to finally be sharing it here!! Like with all my fics, I try to keep my Y/N has physically non-descript as possible, she/her and vibe are the only descriptors. I’ve also not proof-read but will edit errors as I see them post post lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!! Your feedback is always welcome :’)

this is approx. 2200 words and is largely setting the scene. I expect this to story to be told in no more than 3 parts.

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When Geralt and Jaskier rode up to the quiet coastal village, they were struck by how calm and peaceful it was. The sound of waves lapping against the rocky shoreline, the rhythmic bumping of boats against the docks, and the soft clatter of driftwood windchimes melted together to create an atmosphere that soothed Jaskier to his core. He found himself gaping at the sights that surrounded him in wonder; truly taken by the way setting sun cast a golden glow on everything and painted the cloud-laced sky in rich hues of pink and orange.

“This place…” he sighed theatrically, waving his arms around, “is wonderful! Geralt are you not moved by the sight of it all? Does your soul not sing out! Oh, Geralt! Wow!”

The witcher only rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. Jaskier was always so blown away by the simplest things and it both amused and annoyed Geralt. Yes, the sky and the sea were beautiful sights, but more importantly, they were merciless vehicles of danger, death, and destruction; and Geralt knew better than to romanticize things that were, at their core, dangerous.

Sensing the bard’s eyes on him, Geralt gave him a hum of acknowledgement hoping it would be enough to satisfy Jaskier’s need for collective appreciation. It was, as he dreaded, insufficient.

“Come now, Geralt!” he enthused, “take that stick out your arse for a moment and appreciate the sights and sounds of this charming inlet! Listen to the sea! The chimes, Geralt! Listen to how the wind tickles the –”

“For fucks sake, Jaskier! It’s a fucking port city just like any other. This place is one bad storm away from being wiped out by that scenic sea of yours!”

“Yeesh,” Jaskier said letting out a low whistle. “Was it the stick in the arse bit? Too far?”

“Jask-”

“- because look, you are very stoic but – and I mean this as a compliment Geralt, so don’t get your leather in a –”

“Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted gruffly as he dismounted Roach with a huff. “Will you please shut up! Let’s just find the stables and the inn and get this over with.” Without waiting for Jaskier to catch up to him, he led his mare deeper into town.

Jaskier, refusing to let Geralt’s gruff exterior get him down, dismounted gracefully and lightly jogged to meet up with him, his lute clacking loudly against his back as he ran.

“Remind me again what dreadful little creature brings us out to this enchanting harbor?” he asked, still jogging a little to keep up with the witcher’s long strides.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Oh, ho-ho! A mystery? Always makes for a good song. What do we know so far?”

Geralt stopped and turned slightly towards the bard before speaking.

“Apparently a creature has been killing and dismembering men in town. They are being killed at all hours, bodies found in town, at sea, or out in the surrounding forests. Seems nowhere is safe.” Geralt let his cat-like eyes linger on the bard’s horrified expression for a moment before turning back and keeping on the path into town, shaking his head at Jaskier’s queasiness.

“Yeesh – Geralt! You’re not serious! Why would you bring me with you!?” Jaskier picked up the pace, suddenly wanting to be closer to his friend.

“You invited yourself,” Geralt said, trying to contain his smile, “as always.”

“Of course, I invited myself! You’re far to proud to admit you’d miss me.” Jaskier retorted. “Let’s get these horses to the stables, get rooms, and find food so that you can sort this out as quickly as inhumanly possible,” he said, speaking quickly and with a light waver, trying to pretend the quaint seaside village around him didn’t now leave him chilled to the bone.

“Hmm,” Geralt chuckled, happy to have managed to scare the bard into silence, at least for the time being.

The local pub was busier than Jaskier had expected when they rode into town. Seems the reason the village was so peaceful upon arrival was because everyone had already made their way to the bar. Fortunately, he’d managed to nab them a table by the stone fireplace; after a day of riding alongside the sea, Jaskier was desperate for a cold ale and a warm fire.

“Alrighty then, Geralt,” Jaskier said, holding his hands up to the hearth, “what have we got so far?”

“Not much,” he replied, tearing apart the loaf of bread a barmaid had brought over moments prior, “a couple people stopped me at the inn to ask me if I was here to kill the beast, but they didn’t have any information to offer besides the fact that it was a constant threat.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have more luck here – I mean look around, you’d think the whole town’s come to drink!”

“Port cities, Jask,” Geralt said, letting his gaze scan the room slowly, “the people here either spend their days at the mercy of the sea or waiting for their loved ones to come home. You drink for sorrow and for hope of a bright tomorrow.”

“That was poetic as fuck, Geralt! My influence?” he teased, shooting the witcher a cheeky grin, who merely grunted distractedly in reply.

Now ignoring his still-talking friend, Geralt’s eyes had landed on the two women working behind the bar. One was talking excitedly and kept casting quick glances toward the bard, blushing brightly when she caught his eye, while the other was watching Geralt with inquisitive eyes.

“… I tell you Geralt the more you allow yourself to – oh! Speaking of which, here come a few now!” Jaskier flourished, winking enthusiastically at the blushing barmaid who was making her way towards them sheepishly.

Geralt sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, already tired of the flirting he was about to witness. To his surprise and great pleasure, Jaskier got up and met her halfway, leaving him in peace with his thoughts.

Having brought his attention back down to the bread before him, Geralt didn’t notice that he had company until she was right in front of him. Sensing her presence, he shot his gaze up quickly, and found her staring at his wolf medallion with a quirked brow.

“Forgive me,” she started, her deep, velvet-like voice washing over Geralt like morning sun after a cold night, “but you’re… a witcher?”

“I am,” he replied, giving her a crooked smile, his own voice, low and gravely and smooth, not going unnoticed by the woman before him. “Geralt, of Rivia.”

“Oh fuck,” she said, with a breathy sort of laugh, “so you’re not a witcher, you’re the Witcher then, aren’t you?”

Geralt let out a low and modest grunt, shaking his head at the comment. He thought himself immune to the scrutiny and awe that came with being the White Wolf, having carried the title for so long, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that left him shy.

“I’m,” he faltered needing to stop to clear his throat, having made the mistake to look her in the eyes, “just a witcher. Really.”

“Well, they don’t send you out for just anything, do they? For you to be out here in our little hamlet…” she squinted at him with a small tilt of her head, “we must be under some kind of threat. Should I be worried?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me, –” he stopped, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“Y/N,” she replied quickly, offering Geralt a warm smile despite the fact that she’d just crossed her arms, “and I mean we do get the odd ruffian coming through town. They always make a mess of things, don’t they? Beyond that, well, I suppose alcohol does breed violence in some,” she gave a light, one shouldered shrug, “but that’s not the kind of crime that would reach your ears.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully, taking his time to consider Y/N’s words. She seemed almost too friendly, and there was something about her that both drew him in and had him putting up his guard.

“A monster has been picking the men of the village off one by one.” Leaning back into his chair to put some distance between them. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t be aware, considering,” he nodded towards the bar, “your job here.”

“Meaning what?” she retorted, wearing a playful smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Only that you must hear a lot,” he gestured vaguely to the crowd surrounding them, “and see a lot, doing what you do. I would have expected that the disappearance and dismemberment of men in town would be something of note.”

“Well,” Y’N tsked, “I’m sorry to say that you’ve been brought out here on something of a fool’s errand. There’s no monster here; the tale of disappearing men has been told here for months. It started with a woman, too embarrassed to admit that the man who impregnated her left her overnight, telling everyone that a creature from the forest killed him. From there the story grew wilder with every retelling.”

“Hm,” Geralt hummed, watching Y/N carefully with narrow eyes, “I was told dismembered body parts were turning up, consistently, after each disappearance, and that they were being identified as belonging to the latest victim. Besides, I was hired to come here. Why would someone pay me coin to rid a town of ghost?”

“People struck by tragedy will claim to see many things, Sir Geralt,” she replied softly, “not all of them will be true. A dead fish floating at sea, a creature mauled by wolves by the roads, rotten meats abandoned by vendors…” she shrugged, “the mind will twist the truth in order to bring comfort. Who hired you?”

She added that last question quickly, and Geralt could tell it was calculated. Sensing this, he only replied with a quirked brow and a tilt of his head.

Y/N betrayed no sense of frustration when she realized the Witcher wasn’t going to elaborate. Instead, her eyes softened, and she smiled at Geralt with what he perceived as pity.

“Look, the truth is that there is no monster here. Isn’t that right Thalia?”

“Sorry, what?” Thalia, who had just walked back over the Geralt’s table with a tray of ales in her hands, was breathlessly giggling at something Jaskier had whispered in her ear. As she and Jaskier placed four ales on the table, Y/N took a seat across from the Witcher and quickly explained got the two up to speed.

“Oh goodness, that! I can not believe our town’s little lore made it to your ears, Sir Geralt!” She said with wide eyes as she snuggled up next to Jaskier, clinking her tankard with his before taking a generous sip.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jaskier coughed on his ale, “you’re telling me there’s no monster here? That we might actually be able to enjoy a little rest and relaxation here without any horrible monster-killing business? Geralt this is good news!” he exclaimed, smacking his free hand on the table for emphasis.

Geralt only growled out a hum in response, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

“I’ll admit,” Thalia continued, seemingly unaware of the tension between the Witcher and her friend, “it’s scary to think about – you know, murder – but when you actually think about who disappears, it’s not difficult to see the truth.”

At this, Geralt turned his fierce gaze away from Y/N. “What do you mean, ‘who disappears’?”

“O-only that the men who leave aren’t really the type that anyone would miss.” She replied, stuttering a little against her best efforts to not recoil at Geralt’s inhuman eye-contact. “They were mean, violent types. The kind of man that would get crueler the more he drank. Just, awful, evil men, right Y/N?”

Y/N nodded quickly in agreement, taking a slow sip of her ale. “Good riddance.”

“Exactly!” Thalia agreed, clinking her glass to Y/N’s.

“Hell, I’ll drink to that,” Jaskier laughed, before picking his lute up off the floor. “What do you say ladies, a song?”

Thalia cheered loudly and encouraged the rest of the patrons to listen to the bard, letting them all know that he was in fact, the one who traveled with the great White Wolf. Jaskier was positively floating from the adoration as he danced around the pub, pulling cheers and applause after every song.

All the while, Geralt never took his eyes off of Y/N, who had retreated back to the bar after finishing her drink.

Geralt wasn’t sure what to believe. He had a strange feeling about this place from the moment he and the bard arrived, and it frustrated him to no end that even after hours in town, he was no closer to understanding the source of his discomfort. One thing was for certain, something about the story he heard here tonight did not add up, and he definitely didn’t trust its source.

Y/N was standing behind the bar washing glasses, but she wasn’t focused on the task at hand. Instead, her eyes were trained on the crowd before her. Geralt watched her as she scanned the pub with calm, slow-moving eyes that jumped from patron to patron.

The witcher was distracted for a moment when Jaskier sauntered into his sightline, singing a loud chorus of Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Despite himself, Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the bard, whose face was flushed from the ales and the exertion.

However, as Geralt watched Jaskier twirl across the crowded pub, something in his peripheral vision made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Y/N had turned he head and was staring right at him with a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Like a shot, Geralt turned his gaze to the woman behind the bar – his heart beating loudly in his ears – only to find her smiling warmly at him, her eyes their normal shade.

Instinctively, Geralt brought his hand up to his wolf-head medallion, hoping it would signal the presence of some supernatural evil. But he felt nothing.

He didn’t know what she was, but she was not human.

#the witcher fanfiction #the witcher x reader #the witcher netflix #the witcher fandom #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher series #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #witcher x reader #toss a coin to your witcher #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #Jaskier

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beardrabbles · 4 years ago

Text

composed together. [ ♡ ]

characters: venti, reader

warnings: alcohol mention

word count: 3,029

notes: been trying out venti as a muse on a roleplay blog i have, but I wanted to have a crack at writing a reader with him. i'm not a poet in any sense of the word, so i'm sorry if isn't up to venti's standards lmao. if you tolerated all the rhyming, you deserve a gold star and a high-five.

You had tried so hard to make it back in time, but were disappointed when you returned to find Mondstadt barren of the usual Windblume decorations. There were no wreaths or elaborately decorated banners, no potted plants sporting twirling pinwheels. The scent of fresh flowers and baking goods persisted, but it didn’t carry with it the festive spirit. People were, once again, content to ask for help rather than tend to their own needs.

‘ And that’s why I missed out. . . ’ You brooded. It was because you offered yourself as a member of the Adventurer's Guild that you had found yourself pulled away from your home. You had been promised that the job in question wouldn’t take you longer than three days, give or take a day depending on how well you did. But, as it turned out, you had been gone for an entire week. And in that week, the festival had come and gone.

Windblume had never been about the romance for you. Every year, you looked forward to the food and atmosphere, letting the spirit carry you away. This year, however, you had held onto the fleeting hope that someone might show interest. Or that you might gather the courage to approach the one you so adored. You knew it was a lame excuse to depend on one holiday to steel your nerves, but the time and your chance had dashed past in the blink of an eye.

“Shouldn’t have taken the damn commission.” You slumped at an outdoor table near The Angel’s Share, a half-empty tankard of cider resting in your hands. You drummed your fingers along the side of the tankard, willing yourself not to be bummed. The holiday would come around again next year, you reminded yourself as you downed another gulp. “But I’ll probably get sent out then too.”

You stooped forward even further, cheek nearly pressed flat to the table when the familiar sound of plucked lyre strings thrummed in your ear. You sat straight so abruptly that you made yourself dizzy, your need to look around rapidly for the source not helping the fuzzy feeling in your head.

“Venti?” You called his name with such unbridled hope that he couldn’t keep himself hidden for long. A giggle sounded above you, and you felt your diminishing mood soar when you spotted the colorful bard sitting along the eaves of the tavern, beloved lyre in hand.

“The one and only!” He cooed, soaking in your glee. “Looks like you started without me.”

You frowned and peered down at your table, noting the two other empty tankards. Cheeks flushed from embarrassment, you pushed them aside, as if that would make them ( and your shame ) disappear. “Look, I just got back and I find out I missed out on Windbl——!”

Eyes up, you realized too late that Venti had vanished from the roof. You blinked once, then twice, your cider-addled mind slow to catch up. Where did he go?

“I was wondering where you’d gone off too.” His voice bobbed along the air, light and playful, and it tugged your attention like a hook pulling along a caught fish. He sat across from you, his chin resting in his palm and bright eyes twinkling with eternal mischief. “Missed Windblume, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You grunted and polished off the rest of your drink, mood dropping again. “I was looking forward to it too. Did I miss anything important?”

Venti hummed and leaned back in his seat. Absentmindedly, he toyed with the strings of his lyre. “Let me think. Margaret thought of a new, non-alcoholic drink and it went over pretty well with the kids and those looking to keep themselves a little more dignified during the festivities. Our own Honorary Knight was named this years Windblume Star! Oh! That’s right, I taught a class on the art of expressing ones love though poetry.”

You snorted.

“You taught people to write poems?” Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “At what cost?”

“Come noq, Y/N, do you really think I could put a price on the ability to write out what a person’s heart yearns for most?” He paused, saw your deadpan stare, then let out a nervous chuckle. “A few bottles of holiday-exclusive wine is all I asked for.”

“Begged is more like it.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “How many bottles exactly?”

“Enough to tide me over.” Answered the bard vaguely.

“Is there any left?”

His silence was all the answer you needed. You groaned, let your head hit the table, then left it there as your forehead throbbed. Venti, sporting the rare flicker of guilt across a normally jovial face, leaned forward to pat at the back of your head.

“Hey, don’t be down. I have an idea!”

You lifted your head, but your eyes were downcast and dulled. “Is it a bad idea? I don’t think I want to mess with anyone right now, Venti.”

“I thought of the idea, so of course it’s a good one! And we’re not going to mess with anyone.” Venti grinned from ear-to-ear and stood, offering you a single, delicate hand. You gave it a hard stare, wondering what sort of troublesome plans he had brewing in his head. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to come up with a believable excuse as to why you couldn’t indulge him.

Leaving your empty tankards behind, you stood and took Venti’s hand. You stumbled the slightest bit before finding your footing. “What’s your idea, O Great and Fantastical Bard?”

“Since you’re being so kind as to lavish me in well-deserved compliments, I’ll tell you.” He winked at your withering glare. “You’re going to help me compose a song!”

“How is that going to cheer me up? I’m not poetic.” You grumbled. Venti clicked his tongue as he guided you away from the tavern and towards the cathedral.

“That is wildly untrue, Y/N! Everyone is capable of expressing themselves through poetry.” He argued.

“But I’m not good at rhyming or thinking of pretty words.” You countered. Venti sighed and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

“That’s not what it’s about. No one said that poetry was meant to impress people. If it does, that’s a bonus, but the point is to shape your feelings. You write how you feel, not how you want to sound. If you don’t rhyme, that’s fine. If you want to use big words, then by all means! Short words are still words, and they can still carry your thoughts with them. There are no rules with it comes to poetry, no matter what some stuffy scholar might say.” He tugged your hand and pulled your arm up high, leading you into an impromptu twirl. Unable to help yourself, you fell into a fit of laughter that instantly lifted your mood.

“I guess you’re right, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me.” You followed along, a new spring in your step. Venti shrugged.

“Practice means progress!” He clearly wouldn’t allow you to wallow in your negativity, and you were quietly grateful for it. If there was anyone that could lift you out of a funk, no matter how deep and depressing it may be, it would be him.

Venti lead you past the statue of Barbados and around the side of the cathedral, where he perched on the side of a stone railing. Beyond you sat the lake, it’s surface a constantly shifting sheet of vivid oranges, cheerful yellows, warm reds and sleepy blues. The sun was setting, and soon night would fall, but Venti didn’t seem concerned. If it didn’t worry him, then it didn’t worry you, so you found a seat beside him and made yourself comfortable.

“The breeze is nice. . .” You let your eyes fall closed, skin kissed by a gentle twirl of the air against your heated cheeks. You couldn’t see then how Venti’s lips quirked up subtly, an adoration in his eyes that not many earned. He watched you for all of one, still moment before your eyes opened and he was forced to look elsewhere.

“Yeah, it is. So!” Quick to discard the hammering in his chest, Venti pulled forward his lyre and cleared his throat. “About that song——”

“What is it about?”

“Unspoken love, the kind that lives in your chest and makes every moment spent with the person you adore both exciting and painful.” His fingers strummed one string, then another. You frowned, the first few notes squeezing at your heart.

“Why is it unspoken?” You wondered, keeping your voice low.

“Because, sometimes, confessing is more selfish and cruel than never saying anything at all. Because opening up one’s heart may lead to more pain than you first expect.” The melancholy notes only proved to add more hurt to your chest, but still the bard smiled.

“Do you really want to write a song that sad?” You weren’t sure that your flimsy mood could handle thinking about such a morose subject.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand, dear friend~ The reason for love’s silence is upsetting, but the love itself is anything but!” Venti began to swing his legs, and you felt the breeze pick up. Green eyes turned up towards the sky, while a subtle tinge of pink touched his cheeks. “I’ll think of the first few lines, then you chime in with whatever your lovely little mind and heart think of first. Alright?”

“If you say so.”

“Great!” Skilled fingers began to play, the heart of the music beating in time with your own. “I want it to start like this: I want always to treasure your warm soul and kind eyes. . .”

You waited for more, but were met with a calm quiet. A single glance from the bard, and you suddenly felt as is everyone in town could hear and see you. Face burning hot with embarrassment, you looked out towards water rather than at your companion.

“I want always to treasure your warm soul and kind eyes. Hmm.” You breathed in deep and muttered the first thing that came into your head. “Every smile and glance like a hard-earned prize.”

“Good! And you said you weren’t skilled at this.” Venti beamed, the sheer glee behind his praise lifting your mood higher still. “Let’s keep going. Next line: Your voice it rings like the sweetest prayer. . .”

You thought hard again, arms crossed tight and lips pursed. This was as difficult as you thought it might be, but Venti’s enthusiasm was infectious. So, again you offered the only words that rose to the top of your mind. “. . . a blessing from lips so fair.”

Venti hummed, the sound soft and low in his chest. “Indeed they are.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Moving on!” He slipped from the stone railing and came to stand in front of you, posture loose and playful even as he came dangerously close. “I adore you, I do. My heart is yours, it’s true. Little skips and steady pounding, my dear, you are astounding.”

Feeling him so near, his eyes mirthful and intent on you, you couldn’t help but to shrink into yourself a little. You grasped the railing you sat on and hunched your shoulders, eyes glued to your feet. If only those words were meant for you. Oh, but then what would you do?

“Is this meant to inspire other people to think of their love, or are you thinking of someone in particular?” You couldn’t and wouldn’t dare to hope, but you had to ask.

The strumming stopped, but you didn’t turn your gaze up.

“Perhaps I am,” Venti purred coyly, “why? Is there someone you’re thinking about?”

“Don’t be such an imp.” You kicked a foot out, but he was quick to step aside. Your aggression, though harmless, pulled a laugh from the bard. “I might be thinking of someone.”

“Who is it?” Venti pestered. “Do I know them?”

“Maybe.” You sported a cheeky smile of your own. Venti moved in an inch or two more to your side, leaving only a breadth of space between the two of you.

“Do they inspire you?” He asked. You sighed, completely unable to contain the need.

“He does.”

“Oh, so they’re a he, are they? That narrows it down.” He tittered and let himself play a soft, ambient tune. “Does he know how you feel?”

“No way!” You let out a bark of laughter. “Been trying to keep it a secret.”

“Why?” Venti blinked, appearing thoroughly baffled. “He should know!”

“What was it you said? Confessing is selfish sometimes. . .”

“Using my words against me. Cruel.” Venti sighed. “You really won’t tell him?”

“Not until it’s right, and not until I’m strong enough to accept the possibility that he might not feel the same.” Your smile was feeble and didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Chances come and go, away with the wind they blow, so I hold these lovelorn words inside my chest, never to be confessed.”

Venti frowned, watching as your fingers pressed and rubbed at the sudden ache right where your heart sat. His own reacted in kind, the horribly familiar grasp of doubt squeezing at his chest. He knew those thoughts and feelings all to well.

“In your heart the feelings run deep, but darling, don’t put them to sleep.” He reached out again when you dismissed his lyrics with a scoff, only this time you didn’t hesitate to place your hand in his. He didn’t drag you away from where you sat, but let his fingers slip between yours. Your heart stuttered a moment, the gentleness of the gesture filling you with gratitude and trace amounts of confusion.

The breeze picked up again, and you thought you could still hear the gentle song of the lyre despite him being preoccupied.

“Look at me.” He voice dropped to a whisper, so soft and airy that you almost didn’t catch it. But when you did, you bashfully locked your gaze with his. The sweetest smile pulled at his lips, the glimmer in his eyes so sincere that it made your own eyes prickle at the very corners.

Why did you have to fall for someone like him? Why couldn’t you have fallen for someone forgettable, or someone that wasn’t almost always within reach?

“Listen to my words, find them true, only a moron would reject you. You are wanted, loved and adored, you are more precious than any treasure hoard.” Venti arched himself forward, his forehead meeting with yours. Music continued to play in your ears, making the air around his words sweet. Could you believe them when they came from someone as flighty as him? You wanted desperately to, but you had to argue, to contest his open fondness for you.

“By the time the day is done, you’ll have said that to everyone.” You countered. Venti couldn’t hold back a laugh, his head moving away from yours. Already, you regretted sassing him. Come back, stay close.

“You’re getting better at that. While it’s true that I love to sing peoples praises, what I give you aren’t throwaway phrases. You’ve caught me, dear heart, and I want to surrender, allow me to bask in your unending splendor.”

You snorted and gave him a harmless shove. Venti grinned and gave in to your push, but he was near again in an instant.

“It can’t be that hard to believe that someone would love you. Don’t you believe me?” His question hung heavy in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your mouth opened and closed, and each time your words failed you. Only after a long moment of listening to you stammer did Venti cautiously lean in. “Should I be selfish?”

“What does it mean for a bard to be selfish?” After a moment of mental screaming, you felt a smirk tease at your lips, but it was short lived. “Aside from drink all his wine before sharing it with someone?”

“Selfish bards do many, many things.” He spoke slowly, making sure each word dragged and lured you in. “I’ll admit it was silly to drink all the wine without you, but I can make up for it.”

You hummed contemplatively, each passing second tugging you closer and closer.

“How?”

“More wine?” He offered. You pulled a face.

“Mmmn, maybe. And?” Your mind was numb at this point, the idea that you two were so close making every inch of your body squirm. You had only daydreamed of sappy little scenarios like this, so living one out felt too good to be true. You were waiting to wake up, in fact, because this couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be tempting the idea of confessing to you when the entire world of Teyvat could offer him better.

“Songs written just for you?” Venti’s grin broadened, but there was a hitch in his breath when you nudged the tip of your nose against his.

“Anything else?” You egged him on, catching a flare of darker green in his eyes. He said nothing, but the way he moved his hand to touch your cheek spoke volumes. “How about a share of the apples you pick every day, or some mora, or——?”

“You’re talking too much.” He muttered, lips only a fraction away from yours.

“That’s rich coming from you. . .”

His breath was warm and welcome and mingled with yours for all of one second before you felt the notion of a kiss. It was then that the bell above the cathedral chimed, it’s proximity and the intensity of the clap jarring you and the bard from your shared trance. You jerked away, flushed and wide-eyed, while Venti clicked his tongue. Vexed, he glared up towards the cathedral.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I need to go.” You scrambled from your spot, heart hammering so hard in your ears that it almost drowned out the sounds of the bell. “I forgot to see Katheryne about the commission!”

Venti arched a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” You vaulted over the railing and contemplated running off without another word, but it didn’t feel right. Rather than succumb to cowardice and embarrassment, you turned to face the bard. “Tomorrow. We’ll do this again, I promise, and. . .”

“And?”

“We’ll finish where we left off.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!”

#venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #( almost got a smooch! )#( it was another long one dang )#( i get too wordy sometimes :/ not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing HMM )#( tried to keep this one gender neutral but if I slipped up at all please let me know )

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obae-me · 4 years ago

Text

Comforting Nights

Oneshot Fic

Words: 2034

Description: The demon of pride finds you in quite an unprideful state after you’ve had a nightmare.

Author’s Note: I’ve had a rough few days, so for me and anyone else who’s going through a tough time, here’s some unapologetic fluff.

You were unaware of what time it was at this point. The endless starry sky and eternal soft moonlight was making it difficult for you to determine how many hours were left until the brothers would be waking up. Everyone was going to have another long day at RAD and Lucifer was adamant on making sure everyone got adequate rest. You had tried to get some sleep like he wanted, and yet here you were, restless and riddled with anxiety on the roof of the House of Lamentation.

The bedroom you had grown accustomed to was much too stuffy and, at the moment, being inside left a weird feeling on your skin. Signs pointed to the nightmare you had experienced, bordering on the line of a night terror. The sweat on your skin and the heat of your breath after you gasped back into consciousness persuaded you to get some fresh air. The roof was as good a place as any. The venue provided an unobscured view of the Devildom sky and city outline.

With your knees tucked to your chest, you went back to picking out constellations, names and shapes much different than the ones you knew in the human realm. The stars were little multi-colorful orbs that proved time and time again to take your breath away. Even with all the light coming from the city, they refused to let themselves be blocked out. They didn’t twinkle though, not like the stars you knew. You could hear Satan’s voice in your mind’s eye as he explained about the reason why. Something about how the stars twinkle in the human realm because of the atmosphere.

However, not even the stars nor the sights of the city from your perch could stop the burning in your body, the fight or flight response still tremendously strong. A little noise escaped from your mouth as you hugged your own body, curling up against your legs as you tried to erase the dream from your mind. Blood, screams, flashes of teeth and bone against a shape so inhuman you didn’t even know how to describe it other than with one word. Demonic. Whatever it was had torn you apart and done it with no mercy, no hesitation. Your flesh and bone was rendered into scraps, and the only thing louder than the creatures growls was the shrieking of your own voice. When you woke up you could still feel lingering pain pulsate throughout your entire body, your throat dry and sore. This wasn’t the first time you experienced this turmoil either, for some reason it had been plaguing you every night for the past week. You were exhausted, you didn’t remember the last time you had gotten a good night’s rest, and you were starting to wonder if you’d ever sleep peacefully again. Your nerves were fried, your chest tight. You felt like such a child letting something as simple as a shadow in a dream to have you so frazzled.

Your mind was so abuzz with worries you didn’t notice the sound of someone taking soft steps towards you in the darkness. The figure didn’t speak your name or give away any announcement, they only placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You quickly snapped your head back, much too quickly, the reaction of someone who was on edge.

The eldest brother, the demon of pride, the forceful Lucifer was in his full form behind you, wings folded against his back, his horns sticking out from a head of messy hair. His usual resplendent clothes were replaced with silken pajamas. Just a quick glance down let you see red fluffy house slippers, ones you had bought him just a few weeks before, the same ones he always wears at night now.

His outfit mixed with his bed-head and sleepy circles under his lids put you surprisingly at ease. Lucifer squeezed your shoulder, blinking away remnants of drowsiness from his eyes.

“MC, what’re you doing up here at a time like this? Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” He moved his hand, standing up straight and crossing his arms. He frowned and shook his head, black tendrils of his hair falling in front of his red irises. “Why aren’t you in your room? I was worried something had happened.” His unusually soft expression and the comforting sight of having someone there let some tension ebb from your lungs. It flowed out of you through your eyes, silent tears drifting down your cheeks. Your handle on your emotions weakened by your fervent fatigue. Lucifer was taken aback, hesitating by your sudden state for only a second before getting to his knees to check you over, worried you were hurt somehow. “What’s wrong, what’s happened?”

You chuckled a bit, your lip slightly quivering. “Just a bad dream...it’s…” You wanted to tell him how haunting it was, but you stopped yourself. “It’s stupid, nothing to be worried about, nothing to be crying about.” You lifted your arm to brush your own tears away, turning your head away from his gaze in embarrassment. Surely the prideful firstborn would ridicule the idea of being so distraught over subconscious hallucinations. With a soft hand large enough to cover your whole cheek, he brought your face to look back into his.

“I noticed something has been going on with you for a while. Why didn’t you come tell me? Coming straight to me would’ve been a much easier solution than searching the house for you in the dead of night.” With a hand under your arm, he brought you to your feet, holding you by the shoulders to keep you steady. Rubbing the sides of your arms gently to try to cease the convulsions in your chest. His grip was just addicting enough to encourage you to stay in his touch further.

“I’m not a child, Lucifer,” you mumbled under your breath. “I don’t need to run to someone over a bad dream. I can handle this alone.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep you focused. You wanted to handle it alone, you wanted to prove to yourself and the other brothers that you were stronger than they gave you credit for. At the same time you also yearned for them to take care of you, that finally you could be vulnerable and they wouldn’t judge you for it because, after all, you were only a human.

“Alright, you’re not a child. So I take it you don’t want me to put you to bed? I can ensure you have no more nightmares.” One of his eyebrows raised, his hand cupping your chin as he finished drying your eyes.

You had to focus to keep from squirming, your jaw clenched, your heart fluttering. The last thing you wanted to admit is when you awoke, the first thing you wanted to do was tell someone, to have them wrap you in their arms and tell you it was okay. You had paced back and forth in front of Lucifer’s bedroom door for a good five minutes before heading up to the roof. “I…”

“Hm?”

He really was going to make you say it. Of course he knew what you were thinking, what you really wanted. He possessed an inhuman sense of observation, as well as a desire to see you flustered. He acts like he’s the bigger man compared to his brothers, but there was no hiding his mischief. “I want to go to bed.”

“Alone?” The sleep was fully gone from his vision, you could fully see a glint in there, something behind his eyes that wasn’t the rays from the moon. Something taunting, leering, but hopeful, expectant. If you didn’t know any better, he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But god, how he just loved to push you.

His glare almost made you want to cry more, but you could no longer find the strength to tear up or fight your own longing any longer. “Can I...sleep with you?”

That was all he needed to hear, the confirming words to the fact he already knew. Hearing it come out of your mouth was music to his ears. He’ll take you by the hand, his skin warm in comparison with the chilly nip of the air outside. With long calm strides in his slippers, he’ll lead you to his room. It’s so warm and cozy in here, vastly different compared to the cold and hard demon that had first invited you to the Devildom. It was almost poetic in its metaphor. With a little time and patience, and admittedly some close scrapes with death, you got to know a whole new side of Lucifer. He had music playing from a record player above his fireplace, the sound of a somber piano already lulling you into peace. Lucifer folded back his sheets, letting you crawl in first before he got in beside you, eyes bright, resembling the expression some kids had whenever their parents told them they would be taking them to an amusement park. He was excited, but he didn’t need to tell you, you could feel the rush of blood pulsing through his body.

He wasted no time with his embrace. He brushed the hair away from your face before pulling you close to his body. Each of his grand wings extended to fold around you both, trapping the two of you in between a sea of ebony feathers. They were impossibly soft, brushing against your skin like gentle whispers. Instinctively you let out a surprised squeak. In return you felt a supportive hand protect the back of your neck. His other pressed against the small of your back, the fingertips gently kneading your body in comforting patterns. He’d make sure you felt like both of you were the only living beings in the world, that anything that dared threaten you would have to go through him first. You’d feel his face come in close near the top of your head, his breathing slowly syncing up with your heartbeat. A soft, silent melody would emanate deep in his throat only just loud enough for you to hear inside the cocoon he had created. A consoling concert just for your ears, the echoes of the peaceful sounds drowning out whatever worries you had held deep within your heart.

You buried your face in his chest, making a mental apology for wrinkling his pajamas as you gripped them in your hands. You shut your eyes, feeling the back of your mind tug at your consciousness as it threatened to let you slip under. Before you let it take you, you let out a relieved sigh, the air on your breath coming out in shudders, the prickles the nightmare had left on you were far gone. Even now you couldn’t even recall the shadow creature that had scared you so. A blur of a figment already forgotten. The only thing occupying your thoughts was the rumble of Lucifer’s voice, the texture of his wings against your skin, and the solace in his every touch.

The notes in the tune led you to where you needed to go, Lucifer looking at your tranquil state as you slumbered in his arms. He pressed his lips gently to your forehead, a silly gesture he had once been told would ward away torment in the night. With his eyes shining like the stars outside, he melted into you before going back to sleep, searching for you in his dreams.

It was the best sleep you had ever gotten, and now your only worry was having to get used to sleeping alone in your quiet bedroom. However, you were unaware that Lucifer was already making plans to ensure that for the rest of your stay you would be sleeping in his room, under his blankets, right next to him. You had no idea that just your presence gave him the most comforting and fulfilling rest he had ever had in his long life, and he wasn’t about to let it go now. He wasn’t about to let you go.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader

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euphoricsunflowers · 4 years ago

Text

sweet angel — lee hoseok/wonho

a/n: i hope you guys like this piece because i put a lot of effort into it and i really like the storyline 🥺🥺

word count: 2.3k

content: sub!wonho, dom!fem!reader, not explicitly afab but she/her pronouns for the reader, only like half of it is horny, handjobs, some shit doesn’t make sense just go with it, this fic has cute moments but warning you now it’s not what you think it is.

summary: the goddess of stars and moons, of gold and silk, falls in love with a human with soft features and an endearing pout.

because of a violent and blood history, every year the village sends one of their maidens or men to the goddess temple as a sort of offering to her. she has not attacked the village since and the souls that are sent to her are never returned.

when wonho heard the news, that he was chosen to be sent to the goddess, it’s as if the knowledge was deafening. he couldn’t imagine giving up everything just to be a sacrifice. he had friends and a family and a important role in his community.

but it had to happen, “you were chosen for the sacrifice?” wonho’s younger friend asked him, his voice slightly trembling at the implications.

“it’ll be okay, kyun. i’ll be okay and you all will be okay without me,” wonho smiles distantly, because he can’t seem to find it in him to meet the gaze of his friend. he knows he’s already crying, he doesn’t want to cry more, “it’ll all be okay...”

“no! no it’s not okay!” he cries out, but his cries fall in deaf ears. not even wonho can fight this anymore, “stop! why are you so complacent in this fate? she’s going to kill you!”

“i know...” he mutters sadly, “that’s why i’m so complacent. it’s either me, or it’s you, or it’s jooheon, or minhyuk, or— do you get my point? it has to be me!” his dark yet soft eyes meet changkyun’s first ones, “it has to be me because it can’t be you.”

“that’s easy for you to say! you may want to save us, but we want to save you just as much! it’s selfish to disregard our feelings like that just because you think it has to be you!”

the silence falls over them heavily, and wonho sighs at the tension, “there’s no use in fighting it, kyun. i’m sorry. i dont want to spend my last day here fighting with you,” it broke his heart to see the fire in changkyun’s eyes die out, but they both nod solemnly.

and the next day, wonho was dressed up in beauitful fabrics and was given many gifts to give to her, along with the main gift: his soul. and then he was gone.

he made his way to her temple just outside the village after saying goodbye to everyone. it was so heartbreaking to see the looks on all his friends faces, he couldn’t look any of them in the eye. and with a trembling step, he was now outside the village, and with a few more, he was at the steps of her temple. he takes a deep breath, before stepping inside.

the architecture of the temple was beautiful, golden fabrics and silky white pillars with a beauitful painting of stars in the dark night sky on the ceiling.

“hello?” he calls out, just to hear echos of his own voice. they swirl around his head, making him dizzy, but he catches himself before he falls, “i-i’m here as your soul, the sacrifice from the nearby village.”

still, no response, and when his head fills with a golden fog, he falls helplessly to his knees, his chest filling with the same fog, making him feel so lightheaded and dizzy, “w-wait, please d-don’t kill me!” he begs and that’s when he finally hears it.

“oh, poor angel,” your voice echos loudly, ringing in his ears, “shhhh, you will not die by my hand. you do not need to be as afraid as you are.”

he finally opens his eyes, trying and partially succeeding in seeing where the voice is coming from, “i— please... please,” all he makes out is a figure not of this world, unlike anything he’s ever seen or imagined.

“maybe it’s a bit superficial, but you’re quite... ethereal, dear, and i don’t wish i give you up just yet. give me your name, will you?”

a faint voice in the back of his head reminds him to never give his name, only to tell it, but he doesn’t hear it before his voice speaks before he can stop it, “wonho,” and you smile at him, and suddenly not a single worry passes through his head.

“well, dear wonho, stay still for me for just a second,” you lean in closer, and his eyes flutter shut as you kiss his forehead, it doesn’t feel like much of anything, but he feels his head pulsing (almost as if he was in pain... but without the pain) as you walk away, “there. now you have my mark.”

he can’t see it, but it’s a golden moon just above his right eyebrow, “what... what does it mean?” he notices the star necklace dangling from your neck, the stars upon your dress, the moons seemingly tattooed on your shoulders, but he’s sure they’re just marks of your goddess status.

“your soul is now connected to me. that’s all it means. now, those... gifts you brought. use those to satiate yourself for the time being,” you point to the expressive breads and fruits and wines he wouldn’t have even been allowed to touch back at the village.

“but those are for you...?” he mumbles confusedly, but you just shake your head with a smile. he sudden realizes how all his senses have started to come back to him, how he can see you better now, how he doesn’t hear the echoing of your voice anymore.

“i don’t need such things,” you mutter simply, “now, my angel: let me make arrangements for you, and you can eat in the meantime.”

“oh... okay...” he nods in a daze, watching you disappear into golden dust. the food he eats tastes sweeter and better than anything else he’s ever tasted in his life. the apple is crisp, the bread is so fluffy, he can’t help but be jealous of whoever’s daily life this is.

he spends a long time simply sitting there, almost sickly full from all the rich foods he ate.

“you have pretty eyes, you know,” your words are like a whisper in his ear, but when he turns, you’re quite far away, “i’ve never seen such beautiful and dark eyes, so rich like the night sky, in my entire existence.”

“you’re... really pretty too...” he mumbles, cursing the way you poetically described his eyes and he’s just speechless, but you seem to find it adorable.

“thank you, sweet angel. i’ve returned to you to say that i’ve prepared a bed for you. and i’d like to show you around, if you wouldn’t mind,” he shakes his head, because he genuinely doesn’t mind at all. all those hesistant thoughts disappear into thin air when he hears your voice.

the main hall is where he’s been the whole time, and it’s taller than it is wide or long. he gawks in complete awe at the spacey look of all the rooms you show him. it truly feels like he’s one of the stars in the sky, so floaty and enchanting.

he also doesn’t notices the cute sounds he makes when he’s excited or comfy and it’s adorable when he realizes your hear his little ‘wah’s and ‘oof’s. he gets so flustered, it’s quite endearing.

he excitedly tries to stumble into the next room, but your hand stops him, “that one’s off limits for now, my angel. the next one should be your bedroom, come along now.”

part of him is aching with curiousity, but the other part of him can’t help but give in. your voice is too soft, your demeanor is too gentle, you’re too merciful for you to be bad... at least to him.

the last room you show him is his bedroom. the bed is lined with silk sheets and a thick blanket that’s softer than anything he’s felt in his entire life. he lays down on it, and it genuinely feels like he’s sinking, like the bed his pulling him in, and he never wants to get up again.

“i take it you like the arrangements,” you giggle at his content smile, so warm and comfy in the comforts of your bed. he opens his eyes to gaze at the ceiling, full of stars and beautiful artistry, just like all the other rooms in this place.

“do you think i’ll be able to see them all again?” he asks with pleading eyes, begging for something he doesn’t verbalize. all of his friends, his mom, his world outside the pale walls of your temple.

“it’s possible, but i’m not sure i’d be able to.”

he makes an adorable face of confusion. you notice all the ways he’s so expressive, it’s like he can never hide his feelings because they’re written on his face, “what do you mean?”

“i believe... i’ve fallen for you. there’s a stronger urge to protect you than before with the others. and you’re just so adorable and endearing—” he gets flustered by your words, but that just spurs you on, “—like that!! you get so shy and it warms my heart.”

he looks lost as he tries to take it all in, but you hold your hand to his cheek, and his breathing seems to stop, so shocked and flustered, but you continue, “but i’ve never been able to love like this. and now i... i want to know what it’s like to love like a human, so freely and intensely and with all risks.”

“that’s why i’m still here, why you haven’t... made me...” he finishes your words, and you nod, leaning in closer to him, “when you said ‘to love like a human’, do you mean like—”

“yes,” you whisper, finishing the sentence for him. love, i want to love you. more than romantically, i want to love you until you can’t breathe. so faintly pressing your lips to his that you can still feel his shaky breathes and quiet pleas, “and i apologize for my actions and language, but i believe you’ve already fallen for me, sweet angel.”

his eyes glean with golden flakes in the irises as he stumbles just out of your touch slightly, in shock, “w-what do you mean?”

you chuckle, leaning in even closer, “here, i’ll show you. come, kiss me, for real this time,” he hesitates, but sits up to meet you in a kiss. it’s gentle at first, but when you tilt your head, you increase the passion in the kiss ten fold.

your free hand rubs his thigh and lightly touches his cock over the pants he wore and he moans into the kiss. suddenly your lips are on his neck, leaving golden marks on his honey skin, and he whimpers.

“i can still feel how nervous you are, baby angel. relax for me, i just want to make you feel good,” your voice is like a soft silky feeling in his ear, and all other sounds disappear.

“please don’t tease me,” he pouts, and you laugh sweetly, so endeared by his adorable expression, speeding up the pace of your hand jerking him off.

“i’m sorry, pretty angel. i won’t do it again,” your hand really starts to work him, and you press more kisses to his skin, covering him in small moons and stars, marks of your touch on him.

“i’m getting close...”he mumbles, not seemingly able to do much more than that as he gets closer and closer to letting go completely. poor thing’s barely been touched at all, but he’s gotten so worked up so easily. whether it’s because your touch is special, or because he’s just easy, it’s quite adorable, “gotta c-cum.”

“of course, sweet angel,” you smile sweetly as he closes his eyes, his whole body tensing up as he finally lets go, “let me fill you with euphoria, come on, cum for me,” he cums, getting the blanket and your hand all messy, but that’s nothing to worry about. the orgasm feels like nothing he’s ever felt before.

it leaves him floating in the clouds, so unaware of his surroundings or the way you clean him up, kiss his forehead once more, and just pull him close and hold him, “i can help you fall asleep, if need be, baby angel. just try to relax. you will be safe here for the rest of your days. i’m so, so sorry about everything that had to happen...

but you’re with me now, and what a beautiful star you are.”

...

this is wrong.

this isn’t what he’s supposed to be doing. he should be in his bed, with you, laying there until you decided to wake him. he should be basking the warmth your aura radiates, but instead he’s realizing just how cold it is in your temple when you’re not with him. he realizes how miserable feelings come back to him so quickly when he’s far enough from you, like you’re a drug he’s finally come down from.

and then he sees it: the forbidden room. he’s slightly afraid you might catch him, but you were sleeping sound next to him. there’s no way you could catch him. and even if you did, what’s the worst that could happen? you didn’t seem that scary, and he doesn’t know why, but the curiousity overwhelms him and he physically has no choice but to do it.

the second his hand collids with the door-handle, your voice is in his head. he can’t quite make out what you’re saying, but he lets go immediately, his knees giving out on him for a reason he can’t pin point.

“your soul will make a perfect star for me, wonho,” the words don’t even sound like you said them, but they echo through his head until he’s curled up in front of the door to the room, crying into his hands, begging for the echos to stop, begging for mercy, begging for what he doesn’t even know.

“and what a beautiful star you’ll be.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @feelslikelove @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting @baa-nana @foenixs @sunflowerkeen @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub

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nolaimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten

Hey can you do another neglect Mikaelson but different one like the she is the first born child Of Klaus and powerful witch who’s the Mikaelson enemy. And the Mikaelson don’t give her attention or anything basically focus on hope she leaves them and years later their looking for her only to see her married and has kids and is pregnant. The Mikaelson tries to earn her trust but one day hope tries to talk to her and end ups getting. Hurt and the readers husband yells them to stay away from her

I am going to attempt to write this from your point of view (hope that’s okay)

I totally got carried away with this...it is a bit long

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

“Hello?” You shouted out as you stepped into the home.

“Your dad has gone out, Elijah is god knows where, Rebekah…again no idea. And well I’m here…tired from the baby and bored.” Hayley explained as she walked down the stairs.

You groaned, “I’ve been calling them all day and it’s like I don’t exist…” you threw yourself on the sofa but quickly regretted it as you winced.

“What’s wrong?” Hayley sat beside you.

“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter.” You breathed through the pain, as you got comfortable.

Hayley rolled her eyes, “Fine, have it your way.” She sat on the couch opposite you and threw the control your way.

You sighed, switching on the tv before silently chanting a spell to heal your wound before your family could pretend as if they care.

Your father was the great original hybrid, Niklaus Mikaelson, son of Esther and her love but Mikael was left with the burden of raising him. Your mother was a powerful witch who Klaus had close relation with and soon came along you. Your mother’s bloodline was part of the greatest witch bloodline there was beside Esther’s. You were powerful and everyone knew better than to mess with you, and to make it worse, you were a Mikaelson. When you were young, your parents fought constantly, becoming quick enemies, fighting over you. But it led to you watching your mother die at the hands of Klaus Mikaelson. He didn’t kill her, but it was his actions that lead to her death. Yet you still stayed by your father’s side. He didn’t care much for you; you were a living and breathing reminder of your mother, and he hated it. He didn’t care if you lived or died. The only reason you are with them is because your Uncle Elijah comes up with some poetic speech that family is power. You didn’t feel like family. You were used for your magic and power. Whether you were caught in the crossfire, injured or nearly dead, it was your own problem to save yourself. No one cared much for you.

“Y/N!” your dad yelled your name through the house.

You rolled your eyes, and continued to watch the tv, pretending it was interesting.

“Y/N, why is it you choose to ignore me? I am your father, you dare to ignore me!”

“What could you possibly need from me? Go ask one of your witchy friends to perform a spell.” You groaned, sitting up and walking out.

Klaus grabbed your arm, pulling you back, “You will do as I say. You live under my roof, you will go by my rules.”

You shook your head, “Well I guess It’s time for me to move out then isn’t it. I won’t be such a burden to any of you anymore.”

“Y/N…” Hayley started but you cut her off.

“Hayley, I suggest you get out of here while you can. Take the baby and start somewhere new.” You pulled your arm out of Klaus’ grip and walked upstairs. Klaus rushed to you, pinning you to the wall.

“You dare threaten me.”

You snickered, “I haven’t threatened you…yet. I said I am moving out. I won’t be in the way.” You motioned your hand, sending Klaus flying across to the other side of the house, “Ooops.”

You grabbed a bag, packing the essentials before hopping into your car and driving off.

“Gracie, you be careful on those swings! Mind you don’t kick anyone!” You called out to your 6-year-old daughter as she ran to the swings with her sister.

You sat down on the bench, and sighed in tiredness, rubbing your pregnant belly.

“Okay mummy!” You daughter shouted back, taking her sister’s hand helping her onto the swing.

You watched your daughters on the swing, before something, or someone rather caught your eye behind her. Klaus. Your dad. You frowned, and blinked. He was gone. Were you seeing things or had your father found you? You shivered. Is this how it was when Mikael was hunting your Dad?

You shook your head, before sipping your water, and taking out the snack bags for the kids, “Gracie! Hannah! Come and eat your snacks and drink some juice please!” Thank god the park was quiet. It was so much easier to keep an eye on your daughters.

It had been 8 years since you had left your so called ‘family’ behind and found a new one. Your new family, who loved you and cared for you. You missed your real family, but what was there to miss? You met your Husband, Harry, 6 months after you left New Orleans and things moved pretty quickly after. He was already aware of the supernatural world, despite being human himself. He accepted who you were with open arms and loved you all the same. He made you feel new, and beautiful, and loved. You weren’t alone, and he made sure you knew that. Two years later, here you were married, with 6-year-old twin daughters, and pregnant again with a boy. You unfortunately suffered a miscarriage due to a bad fall a few years ago and struggled to get pregnant after, so this was a miracle, but you were happy. Really happy.

Gracie and Hannah sat either side of you, thanking you for the snacks as they sat and ate quietly.

“Mommy, can me and Hannah watch a movie tonight?” Gracie looked up at you, her brown eyes shining.

“Of course you can. Are the snacks okay? Would you like anything else?”

Both girls shook their heads, “Right then, shall we head home then? Hold each others hands, and stay close to me please darlings.”

Hannah and Grace held hands, as Grace took your hand as you walked to the car to make your way home.

Back home, Harry had dinner ready on the table, “I assumed you’d be back around this time, so I had dinner ready.” He kissed you softly, but deepened it, “I missed you today. How are you?”

You returned the kiss, smiling before tucking the kids in for their dinner, “I missed you too. I’m okay. Feeling more tired than usual.” You rubbed your belly, “He’s a little more active today.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around you from behind, softly rubbing your belly, “I can’t wait to meet our little boy.” Your husband kissed your neck before whispering, “Now please hurry up and be born so that your Mummy and I can do more baby making.”

You laughed softly and turned around and kissed your husband deeply. He groaned into the kiss before pulling away and smiling, “Now why don’t you sit down and rest. I’ll bring our dinners.”

You could feel your heart melt. What did you do to deserve such a loving husband? You held your tears back as you sat yourself down, “Thank you, my love.”

You tucked Gracie and Hannah in their beds, before closing the door softly and going to your shared bedroom. You changed into your pyjamas.

“Do I look fat?” You joked, as you looked in the mirror at your pregnant tummy.

Harry looked up, and scrunched up his nose, “In all honesty…you have put on a few pounds…”

You gasped, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him, “I thought you loved me!”

He laughed, catching the pillow and throwing it back on the floor, “I do, very much my darling. You could put on a thousand pounds, and I will still love you.”

You sat down beside him covering your legs with the duvet, “I…I have something to tell you. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy but something weird happened today…”

Harry sat up and looked at you concerned, “What is it? Are you hurt?”

“No, no. When I took the girls to the park today…they were on the swings playing…I thought I saw my Dad…Klaus at the park.” Your voice was shaky. You didn’t know how you really felt about the possibility of seeing your Dad again after all these years.

Harry sat in silence for a second, “Did he say anything? What happened?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I saw him standing there at the park, alone. I blinked, he was gone.”

Harry sighed, “If he does come back, and he does want to talk then that is up to you whether you give him that chance. If he dares lay a hand on you, I won’t hesitate to hurt him.”

You smiled softly. Harry was trained as a vampire hunter so he could defend himself…to a certain extent, “I just don’t want him hurting you or the girls…family isn’t his strongest point.” You sigh, “I don’t know how I feel about seeing him again.”

Harry nodded, “I can’t imagine how you feel, Y/N. I wish there was something I could do. But either way? You have me, and you have a family here. We aren’t leaving your side.”

You nodded and laid down, “I love you, so much.”

Harry kissed your forehead, wrapping his arm around you, “Now sleep, my love.”

*doorbell rings continuously*

You groaned, throwing off the covers, and making your way downstairs. The smell of pancakes filled your nose, and you hummed to yourself. Who is ruining your morning of pancakes?

“Hello…” Harry’s voice faded out.

“Hello Harry. I think you may be able to help me and my family. I’m looking for Y/N.” A British accent echoed through the house.

You gripped the bannister of the stairs before taking a deep breath and joining Harry at the door, “I’m sorry, but the person you’re looking for isn’t here.” You replied, before noticing that not only had Klaus turned up, the rest of the family came with him including Hayley and some random girl. You squinted at the girl…much to your surprise the miracle baby survived. She looked about…what 16?

Klaus’ eyes turned toward you, eyebrows raising in shock as he scanned your body and saw your baby bump.

“Y/N…we need to talk.” Your Dad’s expression was almost human.

“Mommy! Who is at the door?” Grace called for you as she ran towards you with her sister behind her.

“Who are you?” Hannah looked up at your dad, wrapping her arms around Harry’s leg.

“Um…girls go to your room please.” You kneeled down to your daughters, “Mommy has to do something.”

The girls glanced at Klaus again before going upstairs, calmly.

You sighed and stood up, “What do you want exactly?”

“Who said we want anything? Am I not allowed to visit my daughter?” Klaus replied.

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to speak. The amount of emotions running through you right now was uncontrollable, and to top it off you were pregnant.

“Well you better come inside before you cause a scene. One wrong move and I throw you all out.” You sighed, moving to the side and nodding slightly to Harry.

Harry looked back at you before glaring at Klaus, “You may come in.”

You set down the tray with drinks and sat beside Harry.

“So why are you here? How did you find me?” You asked.

“A few witchy spells and well easy as pie.” Elijah replied, taking a sip of his tea.

“I assume that was you, Hope? You’d need to be a powerful witch and well a New Orleans witch is not powerful enough to break my protection spells.” You looked at Hope, “Glad to see you inherited your mother’s brains.

“Yes, that was Hope, who don’t forget, is your younger sister. Have you told your husband about her? About us?” Klaus looked at you.

“Yes, unfortunately I did. Again, I ask, why are you here?” You were becoming fed up with repeating yourself.

“We need your help.” Hope spoke up, “We need help defeating the Hallow. We…I accidently awoke this Hallow and well it’s sort of buried itself inside me.” Hope explained.

You felt your breathing increase, your heart rate shot up, “The hallow? Have you any idea what you’ve done? And you dare bring it here? To my home? Why do you expect me to help you? Any of you?” You glared at your father, “You hate me because I remind you of my mother. You’ve ignored me since the day she died. All of you have. You don’t bother to talk to me for 8 years. And here you are, in my home asking me for help.”

Hayley stood up, “Listen, we are all at fault here. We are all in the wrong here, but all our lives are at stake here. This thing, this hallow will consume my daughter whole, your sister. She hasn’t done anything wrong so please don’t use your anger that you have against us, against her.”

You sighed, knowing Hayley had a valid point. You looked at your ‘family’.

“Y/N, I can only apologise for how I have been since your mother died. What I did is unforgivable, but I would like to made amends if it is possible, if you will give me that chance.” Klaus got up and walked over to you.

You stayed silent, a thousand thoughts whizzing through your head. What were you supposed to do? Saying yes to helping them meant putting your family in danger, saying no meant putting your long lost sister in unreasonable danger.

You sighed, “I’ll help. But I swear, if any of my family get hurt…you will regret it.”

“Thank you, love.” Klaus gave you a small smile.

Hayley smiled, “Thank you, Y/N, you have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

You nodded, “Well, don’t thank me yet, we haven’t destroyed the Hallow just yet.”

“So when are you due?” She motioned towards your bump.

“I’m currently 7 months so not long to go.” You smiled at your bump.

“And you have twin girls?” She asked, smiling.

You nodded, “Yes, Hannah and Grace.”

“May I ask, why the long age gap?” Elijah set his glass down, sitting back in the chair now the serious talk was over.

“Uh…” You sighed, looking at Harry for some comfort.

Harry cleared his throat, “Y/N suffered a miscarriage a few years back from a bad fall and since then we’ve struggled so this baby…is our miracle.”

The room fell silent.

“I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how you felt…that must have been awful.” Hayley wiped her eyes before the tears fell.

You nodded, “It’s okay.”

You sat on your knees and flipped through the pages of your mother’s grimoire. You sighed, rubbing your belly.

“Come on little guy, not today.” You spoke to your unborn son.

“Do you need my help?” Hope came and sat beside you.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. This isn’t something that get’s written down. It was locked away and now it’s out. The only chance we have is someone who has encountered it before…and what are the chances of that.” You smirked as you came across the page full of details on the Hallow, “Thank you mother.”

You sighed, scanning the pages looking for a way to destroy the Hallow, “So it needs somewhere to live…with nothing to feed off, no energy, no other living thing with it…” you trailed off.

Hope sighed, “So why did you leave?”

You looked up, “Why did I leave? Our dad ignored me for years. My mother died as a consequence of his actions and he didn’t care. Since that day, he’s pretended as if I don’t exist. Really, I should have left earlier but I didn’t. Our Uncle Elijah has a way with words, you’ll find. But one day, I had enough. Klaus kept using me for my magic and didn’t care if I lived or died. So I left. But your mum is right, my anger isn’t towards you-“

“Exactly, it isn’t towards me, yet you left me alone. I had no one for so long. And all of a sudden I find out I have an older sister somewhere in this world!” Hope stood up, pacing around the room.

You got up, “Hope, calm down. Don’t you see? You weren’t even bought up knowing about me! You found out later in your life. I was completely irrelevant.”

“Oh, so this is about you now? I have this thing inside of me and it’s still about you!” Hope raised her voice, breathing heavily.

“Hope, control yourself.” Klaus appeared at the door with Harry behind him. Harry’s face was full of fear.

You studied hope, it was almost as if she had a blue glow around her, “Hope, breath. You have the Hallow inside of you. You can’t let it control you.”

Hope growled, “Don’t tell me what to do!” She drew her hands in the hair, throwing you across the room – thank god you landed on the sofa. You groaned, feeling something sharp in your leg.

“Y/N!” Harry ran over to you. He minded your hair out your face before standing up, raging with anger.

“Y/N…Harry…I’m so sorry…” Hope teared up, looking at her hands, “I didn’t meant to…I…it took control…”

“Get out. I want you all to get out of my house.” It was rare to see Harry angry, this was probably the third time you’ve seen him angry, “You turn up here with no explanation, demanding Y/N’s help. You ignore her for 8 years, not to mention before then. She deserves better and not a single one of you have any right asking my wife for help!” He was shouting, most likely scaring your daughters upstairs.

Klaus lowered his head, “I apologise…I can heal you if you let me-“

“I don’t want your blood.” You groaned as you got up, bearly standing on your leg. You took your grimoire, and took a photo of it on your phone, sending it across to Hope, “I’ve sent you something that might help. Now all of you, get out before I make you.” You turned to Klaus, “Leave.”

Within seconds your old family had left and didn’t make an appearance after that.

“My darling…are you okay? Should we get you to a hospital?” He helped you sit on the sofa.

You shook your head, “I can heal it, but can you tidy up before the girls come downstairs?”

Harry nodded, “Of course my love.”

“Harry…thank you for being here with me.” You gave a small smile, feeling all the regret of letting your old family back into your life.

“Of course,” Harry smiled finishing up making the room like home again, “I would never let you go through something like that alone.”

“I love you.” You smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 140

And here we have the last chapter of the Food Festival! This is one part I was pretty excited to write - The Closing Costume Party. I wouldn’t have been able to get this one squared away without @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog... Both of you caught a few things I didn’t that kept it from making sense from a reader perspective. So thank you both, very much.

I growled softly to myself as I twisted my arms behind my back to pull on my costume. Normally, I was more than flexible enough, but the amount of leverage I needed right now just wasn’t happening unless I was willing to seriously dislocate something. Dropping my hands, I frowned as I jiggled my arms a little to work feeling back into my elbows.

“You really should have fitted this sooner than now,” Conor laughed against the back of my head as he pulled the laces tight on the blood-red corset. Getting one made while laying low and avoiding Hannah had been a nightmare, but it was going to be worth it. I just knew it.

“You just wanted to see me try this entire costume on sooner,” I joked as I felt everything fit snugly - but not too tightly - into place.

Maverick flicked a lock of my hair over my shoulder and positioned it just-so. “It’s not his fault that you couldn’t fit this over your scrubs and have it work for tonight.”

“Who wants to see a corset over scrubs?” I scrunched my nose at the thought while smoothing my sleeves and adjusting my collar. “So far so good?” I asked, slightly louder.

As a credit to their maturity regarding the matter, both men looked me over earnestly before glancing at each other. Conor finally broke the silence. “Aren’t the slits in the skirt a bit… high?” Maverick whispered in his ear, and an expression of utter comprehension glowed on his face. “Oh! That’s… Love, that’s clever.”

I grinned hard enough to cramp my jaw. “Thank you.” Despite how daring the outfit looked, there was exactly zero chance of any wardrobe malfunctions more serious than a hole in my stockings - a near-indestructible nude bodysuit under everything made sure of that.

“Your turn, now,” Maverick insisted, eliciting a groan from Conor, who he had turned toward while brandishing eyeliner.

“Isn’t it bad enough I let the two of you do this?” He gestured at his hair, which was styled within an inch of his life and would sustain an EF4 tornado with minimal loss of glitter.

“Nope,” I popped, still smiling as I sat down to put on my boots. Parvati and Hannah had envisioned tonight to be a sort of return-to-our-roots in a very feral, primitive way, complete with costumes. “We’ve been imagining since before we could cook,” Hannah had pointed out. Between that and the multiple hints that I wasn’t capable of costuming myself, I had gone a bit more over the top than I had originally planned. Hence the corset, the boots, Conor’s hair… although the leather pants the guys were wearing had been decidedly Maverick’s idea and I resisted the need to fall at his feet in gratitude.

Once we were finally costumed, we managed to arrive just-fashionably late to the last hurrah of the Festival. I don’t know who gaped harder - us at the party, or the people who managed to recognize me when they saw me leading the men in. Parvati’s incredible, winding mural was noticeably weathered and patchy, giving the overall atmosphere a post-apocalyptic feel. The only noticeable lighting came from the braziers, and deep, almost subsonic music thumped in my chest, driving my adrenaline just high enough to overwhelm my anxiety.

My nose led us over to the first stall of the night, the smell of charring meat fitting the tone. Per a previous discussion around our costumes, I did not reach for anything but instead Conor took my portion and fed it to me - his idea, this time, though Maverick had readily agreed. It was just enough to set off a few murmurs before I heard a familiar laugh cut through the air.

“Councillor Reid!” Jokul’s voice crowed, turning our heads his direction. Warmly, he clasped my hands when offered, trembling with the laughter he was trying to suppress. “This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”

I took a moment to take in his fur trousers and tunic, with rough metal covering vital areas. “The dirt is a nice touch,” I offered, squeezing his hands in greeting. “And Ivan! Well done, sir!”

Ivan rubbed the freshly-buzzed back of his head and grinned. “He actually already had the furs, I just made the armored parts.”

“I meant all of it,” I admonished softly, waving at his work throughout the event.

“Antique, yeah?” Conor asked, gesturing to the furs both of them were wearing.

To his credit, Jokul scoffed. “Absolutely not. Quality synthetic.”

“Don’t let Hannah find out.”

A silver brow arched high enough to impress even Tyche. “Who do you think I commissioned?”

“Clever boy.” I winked at Ivan, eliciting a grin.

In response, Ivan did a runway-twirl, his fur kilt flaring just slightly. “What do you think, Councillor? Can I pull it off?”

With the cheekiest grin my soul could ever manifest, I stared him down. “I think I am the wrong person to ask that.” Even in the dim light, I could see Jokul’s face turn bright red.

“I smell goat,” Maverick interrupted, entirely off topic and completely unabashed.

Ivan’s nose twitched. “Oh, you’re right!” Sniff, sniff. “And it’s on a spit! Let’s find it before it’s gone!”

With that, he snagged Jokul’s wrist and dragged him less like he was an easily two-hundred pound man and more like he was a kite. When I snickered, my former enemy leaned over and murmured “I like the chains, very nice touch.”

I shook the wrist that connected to Conor’s belt and whispered conspiratorially. “Your idea, really. You were so convinced I was leading the entire Ark like this…”

He had the decency to snort. “Seeing it in reality, I was a complete idiot. But it’s quite poetic, and I like it.”

“Poetic?” I asked as I tried to keep pace in the six-inch heels I had elected to wear.

“Are they chaining you down, or are you leading them by their gonads? Or, perhaps, are they saving you from yourself?” He gave a very pointed look at the delicate chains going from the shackles on my wrists to the links attached just above Maverick’s and Conor’s hips.

“Saving me, definitely.” My confession was unashamed and completely sober, the result of the primal music and smells surrounding me.

“Gods agree, someone needs to.”

I didn’t have time to argue before we arrived at the source of the enticing smell - a Jamaican barbecue vendor, who had oxtails, saltfish, and…

“Grilled goat!” Ivan crowed triumphantly. As he started handing out portions from the dancing, grinning vendor, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that the portion he tried to hand to me was intercepted by Maverick first, and then fed to me rather than feeding myself.

“Not my idea,” I managed around an insanely delicious bite. “Swear.”

“Kink tomato,” he insisted, holding up his hands.

Conor almost choked laughing. “Not our kink either, mate. Just set dressing for the Queen over here.” Taking another bite, he winked at me.

“Ah, Conor’s idea then,” Jokul nodded sagely before erupting in the closest thing to a girlish squeal I could imagine coming from him. “Miss Harper, we’ve been looking for you!”

Shit, I thought to myself. I hadn’t thought of what Charly would say when I discussed this idea with Conor and Maverick, and I was just realizing it was a monumental oversight. Plastering a smile on my face, I turned in the direction Jokul had shouted -

Only to be confronted with what looked like a fox with antlers, a rakish Anansi, the Queen of the Dead, a blind healer, and… a walking shrine? I wasn’t sure what exactly Arthur was dressed as, but I could clearly identify a shabby tweed suit, his sword, a tome that I hoped was faux-moldy, breastplate, shin guards, along with various tchotchkes that looked like they came from high-schoolers and were a bit too beat up to be faked.

“Arthur, what are you?” I asked. Where anyone else would find it rude, I knew my bluntness would be either appreciated or ignored entirely.

“The Ghost of Classes Past.” He swept into a near-Shakespearen bow, gesturing at the bits and bobs that adorned him. “Humans protect, and we mourn those we could not to ensure they live on in memory.” The thump of the music did not change, but his costume gave it a sepulchral tone, like a dying heartbeat.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, the antlered fox bounced familiarly before looking at the Queen of the Dead. “You did a fantastic job on their costumes! They look amazing!” Her antlers were, of course, somehow illuminated from below, but damn me if I could figure out how.

Despite the fact that I knew damned well that Tyche wanted to erupt into laughter at the suggestion, she managed to, quite impressively, tamp it down to a savage smile of silver fangs and blood-red lips. Flapping a hand at myself, Conor, and Maverick, she gave her bell-like fake-laugh, fully in character. “Oh, I had nothing to do with this. Darling Sophia and her merry toys conceived it all on their own. This is the first time I’ve even seen it, darling.” She turned to me, tipping her chin down in respect. “Well done, dearest sister.” Tyche was on peak display, with kohl lining her glowing grey eyes, a black bodysuit covering her from collar to feet, fitted vest and cardigan vest, all partnered with a skirt that could be ten inches thick or ten miles of ribbon - who knew with all the darting and layers? Not me, but I was surely impressed with what looked like ten miles of black feathers flowing from her waist to her hips.

“Why, thank you, Your Majesty.” I swept my leg back in a daring curtsy, forcing Conor and Maverick to smother their laughter at Jokul and Ivan’s faces.

“Ma’am! Ma’am ma’am ma’am!” Charly demanded as she pulled me upright. “You blushed at the concept of kink night, and here I find you leading your men around by their hips!”

I tossed my hair and winked at Jokul. “They aren’t being led, they are saving me from myself.” To Charly’s credit, I did look one deep breath from embarrassment - a black dress with red trim, sliced from floor to ribs and collar to navel, over what appeared to be just fishnet stockings and cavalier boots. The only thing, visibly, retaining any sort of deceny was the corset sealing me in the dress. To go with it, I sported chunky, silver cuffs chained to both Maverick and Conor. Ducking in, I whispered, “I probably will have to be cut out of this bodysuit, no worries on me flashing anyone.”

“Ooooo… well played, madam, well played,” she cheered, twirling me around, forcing both men to pivot with me, laughing, before giving me a very concerned look. “How fucking tall are those?” This was clearly directed at my heels, which she was staring at like a shark presented with a steak.

“Six,” I admitted. “But I did pointe ballet for a little while, so… This isn’t that bad.”

Maverick ducked into the center of the circle we formed. “They’re a full size too big to allow for swelling and she has the toe boxes lined with impact foam.”

“How the hell else am I supposed to wear these things?” I asked with a glare that had him standing ramrod straight and barely restraining a laugh.

Tyche, to her credit, patted my shoulder. “While sitting. Or, if you have to stand, with a platform in the toe.”

“No shit,” I hissed, setting the mummified healer doubling over in laughter. “But I’ve done enough damage to my feet, thank you, so… there may be foot braces involved.” One of which was currently digging in just in front of my heel, which I made a mental note to pass on to the development team.

A thick, French accent set me shaking my head when it came from the very-not-French looking mummy. “Well played, Sophia. The sling and calf brace design I saw recently get approved by medical?”

I groaned as I realized that of course this was Antoine. Life and Death, forever partnered. “Yesssss,” I hissed. “Grey created the design.” I unzipped one boot down far enough to roll it below my knee, exposing braces above and below the kneecap before running further down. “The weight is distributed throughout the leg, before terminating across the front and back of the arch of the foot, to even out the pressure.”

I could almost see numbers whirling beneath the six-foot-plus candy-pink bowler hat. “That… sounds like it might actually be comfortable,” Coffey intoned. I couldn’t help but grin at the tilt of his hat and the feather arching behind him.

“More comfy than actual heels, yes,” I admitted before deflecting attention as far from me as possible. Which, considering how much weight was normally put on the ball of the foot in heels like this, wasn’t a lie…. “But we aren’t here for this! We’re here for food!”

Cheers erupted, and we set off dragging each other to what bits we had discovered. The theme of the night was firmly set around protein, grilled if possible, with wicks of smoke dancing through the flickering light along with the thump of the music. Some were spicy, others unexpectedly sweet. As I laughed, and ate, and sweated, and danced, I could freely admit that there was exactly zero percent chance that I would have imagined this in my wildest dreams. And even better? I could enjoy every second, every smell, every beat of the music. I made a point to wink at each camera I could spot, to the point that, first Tyche, and then everyone else felt the need to comically push down my thumbs-up and cover my face.

Clearly, Parvati and Hannah, who I hadn’t seen all night, were monitoring what they would later discover to be a flying pass on their final exam.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

The Illusion of Innocence

Written for Jasonette July’s “Innocence” prompt.

“That was… cute? No rough. That’s the word, rough. That was incredibly rough to watch.” Tim said moving to lay his arm on Jason’s shoulder. “When did you become such a wimp?”

“What the Fuck, Replacement?” Jason tore his eyes away from Mari’s retreating figure to duck away from Tim’s sudden appearance next to him. His eyes quickly, discretely returned to Mari.

“Wow. Just wow.” Tim shook his head. His hair was going to look like Jason’s if he had to continue to watch these two.

“Fuck you”

“Just ask her out already. It’s torture watching you two dance around each other like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jason said finally turning away and seeing Tim’s deadpan expression. “I don’t want to ask her out. If anything, I’m trying to figure out how to get her away from us so you aren’t putting her in danger. There is no reason she had to know about us just to make us some suits. We could have come up with some bullshit excuse why we needed them to be Kevlar lined.”

“Maybe not. But she will if she’s going to help us in the future.”

“What!? Fuck that shit. You should’ve discussed it with us before you decided to bring in an innocent. She shouldn’t be involved with that or with any of us at all. You’re endangering a civilian just by letting her know, let alone whatever the fuck else you have planned. She is going to get killed helping us,” he growled out at Tim. “AND, she is sweet and innocent. We should be helping to protect that in people, God knows Gotham destroys it enough, and I’m not going to let you destroy it in her.”

“Okay, first Mari doesn’t need you to protect her. I know her a lot better than you do and she can do just fine on her own. Second, that’s just stupid. Third, she knows what the risks are and agreed to help. Fourth, since when do you think before you decide to go after someone you like? Or was it just a gut reflex, ‘what is that feeling? I think it might be real happiness. I could actually build a future with this one. Well, let’s nip that shit in the bud.’” He said in a deep voiced imitation of Jason. “Fifth, even if you were right, you’re not, but even if you were, I’ll make sure you’ll be there to protect her the first few missions. You’re welcome for that opening, by the way. Sixth, you’re an idiot, a continuation of two really, but needed to be reiterated. Seventh, talk to her before you decide to harass her out of our lives. Ask her about her… miraculous record. It’s going to come out pretty quickly, but you might want to be up on it sooner. Eighth, eighth? Yeah, eighth. Man this list is getting long. Eighth, Bruce knows and agreed already. Ninth, refer back to numbers two and six, they are really important. And finally, you think Mari is innocent? That's hilarious." Tim doubled over in exaggerated laughter, pretending to wipe away a tear and clapping Jason on his back, “Oh, my sweet summer child.”

“Okay, A I don’t talk like that. B ‘miraculous record’? What the fuck does that mean? Who talks like that? You’ve been watching too many of those magical girl shows. C you might think you know more than the rest of us but we still should have been involved in this decision. D what do you mean you ‘know her a lot better’?” He narrowed his eyes at Tim and moved into his space, towering over him.

“You did it that way just to be an ass, another reflex for you. But, God I wish I could have recorded that to play back to you later. And right, since when had Bruce ever consulted with us before making a decision?” he scoffed. “And I mean I know her like I know Steph… Barbara!! Like I know Barbara. I absolutely trust her, absolutely platonically.” He said attempting to placate Jason. “I am not in your way. You are wide open to ask her out. Or to chicken out, like a little bitch.”

“Screw you, Timbers.”

“I’m not the one you want to screw,” he sing-songed jumping away to avoid Jason swiping at him.

Marinette had had enough. She and Red Hood had been standing on the roof of Wayne Enterprises for the last half an hour, which should have been extremely enjoyable. But instead of their usual easy, flirty banter and lingering looks, Jason seemed to be avoiding looking at her. When he did happen to look her way his whole body seemed pained and uncomfortable. When he actually gave a response to her attempts at conversation, it was in short, curt responses.

Letting out an aggravated groan Marinette finally spoke up. “Okay Jase. What is going on?” she demanded.

“Red Hood,” he muttered back at her. He continued to look out over the city pretending to focus on patrol.

“What?”

“When we are in the field you are supposed to use our codenames, not our real names. How are you going to manage in an actual mission if you can’t even remember the basics?” He bit out a bit more aggressively than was necessary. He finally turned to face her with… a glare? Maybe? It was hard to tell with his helmet on.

She stared at him in shock for a few moments before responding. “Oooo, you’re being extra assholey tonight. It must be something really bad,” she bit back. “Also, if you’re going to yell at me, at least have the decency to take off the helmet. It’s degrading to have it on when you’re starting a fight.”

He yanked the helmet off violently leaving just the domino mask to protect his identity. She could now see the anger radiating off of his features. “I’m not being an asshole. I’m taking my job seriously. I’m concerned we’re bringing an innocent into all this. A civilian that is not remotely prepared for it in any way. I’m frustrated that I’m going to have to spend my time protecting and worrying about you whenever you are helping instead of doing the mission, which is a really good way to get killed, for both me and for you,” he growled out stalking closer to her with each sentence, forcing her back to avoid him physically colliding with her. “And, you and Tim are making plans to get you in the middle of all this shit and you can’t even remember basic protocol for keeping yourself and us safe. You’re going to put us all in danger, including yourself.”

Marinette reeled back like she had been slapped. “Says the guy that called Red Robin by his name before he left,” she returned angrily. “Who asked you to worry about me? I don’t need or want you to worry about me instead of focusing on a mission. That’s on you. That’s your fucked up priorities, not mine. And what makes you automatically assume I’m not prepared for any of this?”

“You can’t possibly be prepared. You can’t possibly understand what it is like. I know you think it will be just a bit of an adventure, but it’s dangerous. You could die or end up in a wheelchair like Barbara.”

“You think I don’t know the risks? I’m well aware of what is on the line, but I can’t stand by and watch bad things happen and not do something about it, not when I’ve been given the chance to act. Not when I’ve been asked for my help.”

“Yes you can!” He voice getting louder again. “You can when the alternative is you die.”

“I know what I’m doing Ja… Hood,” she corrected herself. “I know what I’m getting into and I’m willing to take on the risks. Paris had our own supervillain for years, you know. I know how to protect myself.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve seen you trip over air. This isn’t a Disney movie, Pixie! People die. I’ve died! Most of the Robins have. I don’t want you to, too. I know you believe that good always wins and the bad guys always get punished, but that isn’t the way the world works. Bad guys win sometimes, frequently. Good guys die, frequently. This is a terrible world that destroys people. You don’t have to be a part of it.”

“Okay, I’ve seen you accidentally swing into a billboard, so you might want to be careful casting those clumsy stones. And, I’m a part of it already whether you want me to be or not. You think I don’t know the consequences? Do you think I’m an idiot? I see the consequences every day. I have for a long time. Years before I even came to Gotham. I know this isn’t a Disney movie. If it was, those rats over there would be singing right now. Do you hear singing? I don’t, so it must be real life.” She stopped for a beat to think about what she just said. “Actually, I’ve seen rats singing in real life so that’s not such a good gauge,” she added shuddering. “Remind me to tell you about Mr. Rat sometime.”

“This isn’t a joke, Pixie. I know you’re not an idiot but you are naïve,” he gave her a gentle look and reached out to touch her cheek. “You are still determined to see the best in people. You still have a chance to keep your innocence and that childlike view of the world. You can stay naïve. You deserve to.”

She looked at him in shock, her jaw falling open. What the hell just happened? She took a breath to think about what to say next and how to respond to whatever that was that just happened. The condescending jackass. Naïve? She wasn’t the one that was naïve. And he wasn’t the one that knew more than her. Is that really what he thought of her this whole time? Now she was livid. That arrogant, patronizing asshole. She was not stupid or naïve. She slapped his hand away to growl out, “Believing that people can change does not make me naïve. Believing there is good in this world does not make me some wide-eyed, ignorant airhead. I’ve seen good in this world. I’ve even seen it here in Gotham. I’ve seen it in you, despite being the egotistical, disrespectful bastard that you are.” She looked back up at him and gave him a wicked smirk. “Also, it’s cute that you think I’ve never died.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?”

“There’s something you should probably know. We were going to tell you soon anyway, but I think you might need to hear it now.”

“Okay…”

“Hmmm… I don’t think I want to tell you here though. I think I want to tell you over there,” she said pointing to a building across the street. “There’s something poetic about revealing your secrets surrounded by gargoyles, don’t you think? And somehow, Gotham seems to have more of them than Paris. That’s just weird,” she frowned at the thought.

“Pixie…” he noted the determination in her eyes and decided this particular argument was less important than the larger battle. “Fine! Just let me get my grappling hook out and we can swing over.” He said reaching for it on his belt.

She looked over at him and grinned, a dangerous glint in her eye, “No thanks. I have my own ride. Race you!” She took off like a shot running to the edge of the building then jumped off the edge.

Jason’s heart stopped. What was she doing? What the hell!? Jason took off after her. Was she expecting him to rescue her? What if he couldn’t get to her in time? This was a stupid and beyond dangerous game she was playing. After he saved her he was going to kill her.

He pulled out his grappling hook as he ran and leaped after her streamlining his body so he could fall faster. She had the audacity to be smiling at him as she fell. He was almost close enough to grab her. His eyes left hers looking up to find the best target for his grappling hook. He noted a flash of pink in his vision’s periphery but ignored it, focusing on the task at hand. Nothing else mattered but saving Marinette. Finally finding the best option, he turned back towards Marinette and stretched the last final inches to grab her but found Marinette was no longer there. Instead there was a woman dressed in a deep red and a mask. The woman grabbed his waist and launched a… was that a yo-yo?... toward the same spot he had identified earlier.

Suddenly he was tugged up as they arced to the roof of the building. They landed on the roof with a thud, rolling to a stop in a tangle of limbs.

He pulled back slightly to stare down at her in confusion, not able to form coherent thoughts yet. After what seemed like a few minutes Marinette finally broke the silence. “Hood? You going to survive this, handsome?” she asked with a smug grin.

Jason’s brain finally caught up with what was going on and his jaw dropped, “Mari?” He asked incredulously.

“No names in the field, remember? How are you going to survive any missions if you can’t follow basic safety procedures?”

“What the fucking fuck, Mari!!” He looked at her again running his hands along her face, trying to confirm what he already knew. It was her. Marinette was safe… and a superhero. He let out a breath he had been holding since she jumped and shook his head. “You’re terrible."

“I thought I was innocent and naïve?”

“No, you are a terrible, evil person. That jump proved it. You almost killed me all over again.”

“You deserved it. You were being a condescending ass.”

He let out a huff, “Please never do anything like that again” he begged softly, lowering his forehead to hers.

“Don’t be an ass and I won’t have to.”

"You were supposed to be innocent” he said giving her a lopsided smile.

“I don't know what gave you that impression," she smiled innocently and batted her eyes.

“That. That damn smile. It's a lie.” He looked back over at the Wayne Enterprises building and shook his head. “And I thought you were going to have trouble with grappling and swinging through the air.” He chuckled lightly and lowered himself back down so his face was a few centimeters from hers, glancing down to her lips.

“Have I ever told you what it’s like riding a dragon?” She whispered licking her lips.

“I'd love to hear about that som… wait a dragon? Like a dragon dragon?" She nodded giving him a small, coy smile. Jason ran his fingers across her cheek and along her mask. He grinned happily. His Pixie was a badass and he couldn’t wait to hear more. “but later" he said closing the distance and crashing his lips into hers.

Tag:

@fsketchart @jasonette-july-2k20

#maribat #jasonette #jasonette july 2k20

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years ago

Text

The new Shadowhunter Academy (Fan Fic) - Chapter 1

In the mood for a bit of Shadowhunter Academy drama so there goes chap 1 of my new fic (it's part of my "To never being parted series" though it can be read as a standalone story).

Ao3 link here.

*****

This is how I die, Ash thought. He was surprised by how indifferent he was to the news. He had always imagined he would have more fighting in him.

If he were honest, it was not such a bad place to die. Green grass had started to grow again in the lands of Faerie, where there had only been wasteland and death before. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe Ash was exactly what he had been named after. Ash, the symbol of rebirth, his blood fertilizing the land and giving way to lush vegetation and the chirping of birds. Through his blurred vision, he could see Jace lying a few feet away, unconscious. He held on to the steady rise of his chest that told him he was still alive. But barely.

Ash coughed up blood in the already drenched soil. He tried to lift himself up, but the muscles in his arms were failing him and the slightest move equalled to excruciating pain. He felt as if all the bones in his body had been crushed into small pieces that were piercing through his organs.

He thought about the girl he had met in the weapons room, the girl in the drawing. Drusilla Blackthorn. There had been loneliness in her blue-green eyes, yet there had also been a fierce will to live despite everything. A hope beyond despair. You and I are the same, he told her in his mind. We witness the worst horrors, suffer the most intense grief, but keep our chins up and stand ready to fight to live another day. We do not give up.

Ash craned his neck sluggishly to get a better look at his opponent.

The new King of both Seelie and Unseelie Courts, a Herondale no less, who looked more like a Californian surfer boy with his tousled blond hair and unforgiving bright blue eyes, was standing before him, hands curled into fists against his hips, his white wings tipped with gold rustling behind him. He was glorious, an angel of death, and Ash idly wondered how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.

“Stand. Now. There is no fun in striking someone lying on the ground,” the King said, his blue eyes rolling in a very unkingly manner. Even his voice was not that of a monster. It was a nice, clear voice, that sounded like it belonged to a sweet boy. Ash knew, though, that he was anything but. He needed to distract him, to play for time.

“All these faeries that you have massacred,” Ash managed to utter through the blood in his throat. He flinched at the pain that the mere act of talking caused him. “And you call yourself their ruler… I don’t understand. Why this… bloodbath? What did they do to you?”

“What did they do to me? What did they do to me?” If the King’s face bore any expression at all, it would be pure hatred and contempt. “How about what did they do to my mother? And her parents, and their parents before that? Did they really think I would never find out, stay in the dark forever? Remain a blind and helpless mundane my whole life? I see them every single night in my dreams, you know… I am haunted by the cries and howls of my ancestors. Always running, always hiding, never allowed to rest, never allowed to live. No more. I crushed the faeries who stood in my way as if they were cockroaches under my shoe. If there was still such a thing as Shadowhunters, I would have them suffer the same fate, if not worse, for they have betrayed my bloodline just as much.”

As the Herondale King talked, Ash slowly moved his hand to clutch the folded paper inside the left pocket of his jacket. The psychopathic witch that had grown so fond of him – Annabel, the mere thought of her still sent shivers down his spine – had at least taught him one useful thing. How to get out of this hell hole.

He held on tight to the drawing in his bloody fingers. If he focused enough on creating an interdimensional Portal to her… Surely, he would go back to where he came from himself. The drawing had probably been made with material found in Thule, but the artist… the artist was from the other world. Maybe it could work. It was a long shot, but it was the only chance he and Jace had.

My blood, willingly given. He had lost enough blood as it was, but it had certainly not been willingly given. Trying to grab his sword, which was lying a few feet away, would draw too much attention. A deep paper cut could work. That’s how potent his blood was. He brought the paper to the palm of his hand and sliced through the skin, murmuring the incantation.

As the Portal started shimmering before him, Ash heaved a sigh of relief, causing a sting in his lungs. That was the first step. Now, how the hell would he find the strength to haul himself and Jace through it, without being stopped by the Faerie King?

“Wow, you will have to teach me how to do that,” the Herondale King said, showing for the first time a flicker of emotion. “I mean, I probably have enough power for that – Aren’t you like a cheap knockoff of me?”

Ash was spared to give an answer as the King whipped around at the sound of swords being drawn out behind him. The Riders of Mannan. There were only five of them left.

“You again?” The King rolled his eyes. “Ever thought of a retirement plan? Aren’t you like, thousands of years old?”

One of the Riders shrieked. “You killed two of our brothers. It has become personal. We will never acknowledge you as our new King. So that leaves us with only one option.”

“Yep, got it. You pick option B. Getting your decrepit asses kicked by me, myself and I.”

The Faerie King advanced with a casual stride on the five Riders, drawing two longswords that he immediately started twirling as if they were cheerleaders’ batons.

This was Ash’s chance.

He crawled to Jace, grabbing their two swords - Heosphorus and Phaesphorus - on his way. Pulling on a strength he didn’t know he still had, he finally managed to stand, ignoring the ache in his limbs – he had known torture and pain had become a familiar companion – and hauled Jace’s body up and they both stepped through the Portal, with only two swords and a folded bloodstained paper as their interdimensional trip’s luggage. He let himself be transported in between worlds, drained and already fainting from the strained effort.

When he came to, he was lying on a sand beach, the sun barely peeking out from the horizon, casting a reddish glow on the sea. He inhaled deeply the clean and salty air, like a treat to his lungs, so pure compared to the one in Thule. He turned his head to find Jace’s limp body a few feet away. If only he had been taught how to draw the Angel’s Runes his uncle had told him about. The ones that could heal the wounds and ease the pain.

He heard voices and started to drag Jace’s battered body behind a nearby rock, breathing heavily as he did. The fresh air and the sound of the soft push-pull of the ocean made him feel better already.

He peered around to see three figures approaching.

He instantly recognized the girl. Drusilla. She looked a little bit older than he remembered but she had the same thick and luscious dark brown hair and freckled milky skin. She was wearing her pyjamas, black fabric with a pattern of white skulls. She was laughing carelessly, throwing her head back, and it made Ash smile, his zygomatic muscles almost aching as they awakened from their deep slumber. They hadn’t been put to such use in a while. She was holding the hand of a younger boy with rumpled hair of the exact same colour. Their eyes shared the same singular summer-blue shade. Probably her little brother. He seemed to be around ten years old, but Ash wasn’t very good at guessing age.

The third person was a very tall boy, with hair as black as a crow’s feathers, walking along the water’s edge. Ash couldn’t see his face because he was looking away, toward the sea. There was something fragile, almost poetic, in the graceful curve of his neck and the delicate line of his jaw. Something hypnotising about the careful yet purposeful way he moved his long limbs. Ash almost felt disappointed he could not see the face of the person they belonged to.

“Tavvy!” Drusilla cried out as the younger boy released her hand to run to the edge of a tide pool.

He picked something in the water and held it up in triumph.

“Starfish,” he yelled, hopping up and down excitedly. “I have found a starfish!”

Tavvy ran, though not in the direction of his sister, but of the older dark-haired boy.

The tall boy held out his hand and the younger one put the starfish gingerly into the other’s palm.

“Pisaster ochraceus, also known as the purple or ochre sea star,” the mysterious boy said, after a single, swift glance at the starfish. He had a deep, raspy voice.

“It’s beautiful! Please! Please! Can I dry it and keep it in my bedroom at the Institute? I could have it framed, and maybe even painted by Jules!”

“It’s a keystone species that controls mussel populations. It was nearly wiped out by the sea star wasting syndrome. In other words… Waste of a perfectly good starfish,” the voice of the graceful boy caught at his last words and he trailed off, his head still turned toward the sea, almost as if he was no longer talking to Tavvy. He lifted his free hand absently to grasp a shiny object - a silver pendant? - resting on his chest.

The three Shadowhunters snapped their heads in the opposite direction from where Ash was hiding, when a fourth person called. A blond-haired girl – probably a Shadowhunter as well, though she had pointy ears - was coming down the beach wearing slippers, an apron tied around her slender body.

“Breakfast is ready! I have managed not to burn the whole stack of pancakes this time.”

Ash heard his stomach growl. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Probably days. But much sharper than the pain caused by hunger or even by the battle wounds, he felt longing… Longing for a normal life, in a normal happy family. What would he not give for carefree strolls on the beach in the dawn, surrounded by loved ones, followed by something as simple as a breakfast of – even burnt he didn’t mind – pancakes?

The landscape swirled and changed into the dark, dirty and moisty walls of a cell. He was so thirsty, so hungry, and so cold. Two Unseelie guards were staring at him through the bars, with a smirk on their narrow faces.

“We are here to bring you to your bedroom. Yes, you will get a bedroom. How fancy is that? The King just wanted to make sure you knew it was in your best interest to fully cooperate. From now on, and for as long as you behave, you will benefit from the most luxurious accommodation befitting to your royal lineage.” Ash – the younger, clueless version of him – found he did not care for a fancy room. He had known the most decadent living conditions and the worst. Knowing the full spectrum, he had realized nothing really mattered but a place to call home. Mom, where are you when I need you the most?

The door rattled and one of the guards came in.

“You have a pretty face, skinny boy,” he said, as he opened Ash’s bloody shackles. “When we will have cleaned you up, maybe you and I could have a little fun.”

Ash spat on the rude intruder.

The faerie was about to slap him when the other guard grabbed his wrist.

“Careful… He is the Seelie Queen’s son. You can’t take liberties with him as you can with other regular prisoners.”

“He may be of royal blood, but his father Sebastian Morgenstern died leaving us alone to bear the consequences of his mad plans, to suffer the Cold Peace. The traitor is the reason why the Fair Folk are treated as if they are less than nothing.”

A wave of pure hatred – that he had not felt at the time, having never met his father – woke Ash up from his dreams, his whole body drenched in sweat. He almost sighed in relief as he realized he was in his wide bedroom, in the house in the hollow hill.

There was a pain in his stomach, different from the one caused by hunger. He immediately ran to his bathroom and retched above the sink. There had been no time to run to the toilet. He opened the tap and splashed water over his face. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he noticed there were dark circles under his eyes and that his features, although smooth and ageless as all faeries’ were, bore the permanent mark of having seen too much horror, suffered too much pain, loneliness, and sorrow before he had even reached adulthood. He swiftly schooled them into the mask he wore in public. He had become good at that.

****

“Riders of Mannan, tremble!” Mina cried out as she burst into the kitchen and started running around the table on her little legs, brandishing her Cortana baby-sized wooden replica. Her dark hair was now long enough that she could wear them in two tiny braids. It was Kit’s job, and Mina loved to barge into his room at ungodly hours with a hairbrush to jump up and down on his bed until he had performed his daily task. So much for privacy.

“Oh no, here comes Emma Carstairs!” Kit raised an empty pan from the stove to use it as a shield. “Quick, run! Or she will end us all!”

“Nooooo, Kit-Kat” Mina paused to strike a dramatic pose and rolled her eyes. “You are not a Rider.”

“No? What am I today?” He asked, putting down the pan.

“My fiancéééé!”

“Ooooh.” Kit drew himself to his full height, putting on a very serious don’t-mess-with-mine-and-I-won’t-mess-with-you face and brushed his hand through his hair in a mock nervous gesture. “Beware Riders, I will strike you with my wits, if not my crossbow.”

“No. Not Julian. I have changed my mind. I want to marry Tiberius Blackthorn!” She said and shook both her hands in front of her the way she always did when she was very excited about something.

“Oh. Oh. Well don’t tell Julian that, I am not sure he will appreciate the swap.”

“Do Tiberius! Do Tiberius!” Mina exclaimed, hopping up and down. Kit knelt in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. “Do him, please!” Mina whined.

“Sure, Min. I will imitate Tiberius but please stop shouting that,” Kit said, feeling heat rush up his entire face.

“Yeaaay! Do him!”

“SHHHHhhh,” Kit said, putting a finger on her pouty lips. “Understood, Min-Min. I will play Ty’s part.”

Their parents were in the room next door and though both knew that he and Ty were a thing now, Kit had obviously not gone into detail as to the physical part of their relationship. He expected that they would simply guess and leave it at that.

He had a vivid memory of the time he had been cornered to sit through the “sex talk.” Tessa and Jem had made some Earl Grey tea and scones for the occasion and had taken the opportunity during one of Mina’s naps, to go through the whole process of explaining to Kit that it was the most natural thing in the world and that he shouldn’t feel uncomfortable raising any questions he had on the subject. Kit had dutifully listened, his head bent and his ears red, slouched in the middle of the couch, fingers knotting and unknotting where they rested on his lap. As the awkward conversation had gone on and on, he had disappeared little by little into the plump cushions, wishing he could vanish entirely inside the furniture.

Jem had been the old-fashioned gentleman, talking about “mutual respect” and “the shared responsibility of contraception and adequate protection”, but had been clearly as red faced as Kit, while Tessa had been the modern mom, freely and animatedly speaking about “exploring one’s sexuality” and “ignoring peer pressure and imaginary standards”.

When Jem had started listing all the STDs he had encountered in his life as a Silent Brother, Kit had secretly hoped there was poison in the tea. Dropping dead in the middle of the living room would have made for an adequate diversion. Fortunately, Tessa had silenced Jem with a glare.

In the back of his mind, Kit had wondered if Ty had gone through the same ordeal. He had imagined scary-overprotective Julian discussing sexual intercourse and condoms and had suddenly been profoundly relieved that – where Kit was concerned – the task had befallen to Tessa and Jem.

Kit had to admit, they employed the same thoroughness and dedication in everything they taught him. With Jem, Kit had learnt how to fight, how to heal wounds, how to waltz and – though that part still required a lot of training to get over his bad habits – how to behave like a gentleman. Tessa had taught Kit how to drive, how to cook and how to uncover and harness his First Heir powers. Both his parents had given him history lessons and they were the reason why he now knew how to speak five languages. He had read more books since he had joined their home than throughout the rest of his previous life. While Johnny Rook had taught Kit how to pick locks and steal pockets, Tessa and Jem had taught him trust and boundless generosity.

Truth be told, they were the best parents he could ever have dreamt of. He had the best family he could ever dream of, he thought, watching Mina’s big dark eyes widening as her gaze caught the plate of homemade chocolate cookies.

“Oooh you baked cookies! Can I have one Kit-Kat? Pleeeeeease?” Thank God for her short attention span.

“You already had a croissant this morning, Mina. You can have a cookie tomorrow. Remember, us Shadowhunters must eat healthily.”

Mina raised her eyebrow at him, in a way that reminded him of his boyfriend. Kit slipped a cookie in her tiny fingers.

“One. And remember how generous I was when I am sent away to sugar-addicts rehab and I beg you for one last shot of candy for the road.”

Mina nodded. He loved the way she always acted as if she understood his ramblings.

“Kit?” Tessa called as she entered the kitchen, waving her phone. “It’s Jace. He tells me you’ve been dodging his calls.”

“I am not here,” Kit mouthed.

“He told me you would say that. So, he wants you to know he still has this picture of you from last Christmas and he will not hesitate to send it to a certain dark-haired Centurion if you don’t take the call.”

Kit shot out his hand, palm up, and Tessa handed over her phone.

“This is blackmail.” Kit tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he swept the plate of cookies away from sight.

“Never said I was above blackmail. Just make sure it’ll work if you are ever to use it.”

“Is it another one of your cardinal rules and guidelines to being a proper Herondale? I am pretty sure half of them are made up.”

“They’re not.”

“They are,” Tessa mouthed, grimacing, as she whisked Mina away from the kitchen.

“So, here’s the thing. I usually act as a guest lecturer at the Academy, you know, for basic stuff. Learning how to jump and fall properly, balance in swordfight, choice of weapon… I was scheduled for next week, but Clary decided to plan her art gallery opening at the same time. So, I was looking for the best person to fill my shoes and of course immediately thought… who else than Kit?”

“Liar. I know you asked Emma first. What’s her excuse?”

“She sprained her ankle during training two days ago.”

“She posted a video of herself dancing in a nightclub with Cristina and Mark. That was yesterday.”

“This girl sure knows how to put on a brave face.”

“She was doing backflips in front of a cheering crowd.”

“Like I said, brave face. So, you’re in?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Not really, but I thought it would be nicer if I asked.”

“Whatever.” Kit grumbled.

“Great. You won’t regret it. I will even buy you dinner in Manhattan while you’re in New York. Fancy restaurant with amazing desserts.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Jace Herondale?”

“Just lie down and let me do the rest.”

“WHAT?”

“Sorry, not talking to you. I’m in the middle of a training session. We’re stretching. Have you trained this morning?”

“It’s 2 PM here, Jace. I’m on my break. I already trained for six hours, starting at the crack of dawn.”

“You put us all to shame.”

“So, I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“I was not finished.”

“Raziel, what else is there?”

“The Scholomance is sending a Centurion to represent them and provide a two-days training course for the Academy’s senior students who wish to apply to join them after they graduate.”

“Oh,” Kit said, with a familiar flutter around his stomach. “Do you…” He swallowed. “Do they already know who they will send?”

“Probably that Joshi guy. But it’s not set in stone. Jia Penhallow told me they have been trying to convince their best Centurion to go for months now, but he keeps saying no.”

“Oh, so he gets to say no.”

“I told her Herondales can’t resist a challenge...”

“You didn’t.”

“… and that I had a secret weapon to convince him to go this time.”

“You mean me.”

“Use your body!”

“WHAT?”

“Not talking to you, sorry. Beatriz, use your whole body’s strength, not just the muscles in your arms!”

“Thank the Angel.”

“What was I saying?”

“You were using me to try to convince Tiberius Blackthorn – who absolutely loathes talking in public, by the way – to give a two-days training course at the Academy for Scholomance applicants. Jace, I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t want him to feel obligated in any way, just because…”

“… just because you let him play with your sword?” Jace offered.

“God, Jace. I am going to pretend you never said that.”

“Make us proud.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too. Gotta go. Catch up later.”

“Jace,” Kit groaned in frustration, but Jace had already hung up.

Tagging @gabtapia <3

#the dark artifices #the wicked powers #kit and ty #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herongraystairs #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #jace herondale #jem carstairs #tessa gray #mina carstairs #tsc fan fiction #cassandraclare #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles

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cotccotc · 4 years ago

Text

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 ⚡︎ “𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕”

☆ summary: rumors cause a rift between you and your boyfriend. can you find an answer before things get too intense?

❑ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 { ☁️ anon ♥︎ }

☆ genre/s: angst, a bit of fluff, established relationship, high school!au, boyfriend!minho x reader, feat. best friend!hyunjin, bully!chan (I’M SORRY), + songwriter!changbin for like 2 secs

☆ warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety, physical violence, blood, [ this isn’t really a warning but y/n is lowkey a bad*ss so… go u ], toxic masculinity...?

☆ one-shot, 4.5k words

☆ a/n: i hope y’all enjoy this one! especially you, lovely ☁️ anon <33 it’s a bit intense but who would i be if i didn’t get carried away?? (p.s. i’m sorry this took so long!)

☆ tags: @magglesx

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

minho had been distant for a few days and you couldn’t really tell why. as far as you knew, you hadn’t done anything to upset him. in fact, the week before, you planned your first date in a while and made sure it was extra special due to the busy school schedules that tended to keep you apart. of course, the date included going you paying for the meal at your shared favorite restaurant on the nicer side of town, as well as coming back to your house for some much needed cuddle time. he may not seem like it from the outside, but your boyfriend was a major cuddle bug.

yet, suddenly, you felt as though he was avoiding you.

your boyfriend was normally a little hesitant to flirt with you or initiate pda at school, which you completely understood. he had a pretty edgy image and was known as the sarcastic, rebellious friend in your friend group. therefore, he loved his intimidating demeanor and he did whatever he could to keep it up.

but this was different.

whenever you’d text him, he would take longer to reply and the texts would be drier than ever before. one word answers became the norm, with the occasional addition of an “lol”. and he completely stopped answering your calls. deciding to give him some space, you stopped trying.

even minho’s friends seemed to be avoiding you. for instance, you stumbled across changbin in the library during your free period one day. he was sitting on the floor in one of the back aisles of books, scrolling on his phone. you assumed he was hiding out there discreetly so as to not get caught on his phone. you sat beside him with a giggle.

“you know, i never pictured you as a bookworm,” you softly teased him. changbin let out a faint chuckle, not bothering to look you in the eye and instead concentrating on whatever he was working on. disregarding his odd reaction, you asked, “what’s so important you can’t wait until lunch to see it?”

“i’m writing,” he responded dryly. changbin was the most esteemed songwriter at your school. everyone knew he wrote songs for himself and other people, and whenever he was free, he’d be writing.

“...would you like to share any?” you asked, peeking at his screen. he normally wasn’t hesitant to share his lyrics and you always enjoyed hearing his poetic inner thoughts.

“um… not today.” he glanced up at you for a split second before going back to his phone. he even went so far as to tilt the screen away from you. at this point, you became hyperaware of the fact that you had done something wrong. was i being too nosy? you asked yourself. “sorry,” he continued.

you looked down at your lap, in which you awkwardly picked at the skin on your fingers. “it’s ok, i get it. i bet they’re great though,” you offered bleakly, trying to remain supportive of your friend despite how annoying you must have been. that was definitely not what you needed after beginning to feel your boyfriend drifting away from you. first minho, and now your friends?

“thanks,” changbin replied coldly. and with that the bell rang. you could have sworn changbin seemed thankful for the end of the period, as he picked up his bag and locked his phone as soon as the bell sounded. with a bleak wave and sideways glance, he was off. and there you were, sitting on the floor of the library, alone. and confused.

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

it was a chilly wednesday morning in november. the past few days had been a bit torturous without your boyfriend’s usual sneaky expressions of affection. you were in math class, seated cozily in the back of the classroom next to hyunjin, another mutual friend of yours and your boyfriend’s. the desks were arranged in pairs and you and hyunjin had no other friends in the class, which led to the two of you becoming close during the past few months. yet, you still hadn’t told him about what was troubling you. while the teacher was answering questions about your homework assignment from the night before, you decided to talk to hyunjin about minho.

“jinnie,” you whispered as your friend kept his head down, his brow furrowing at the problems on his page.

“not right now, y/n. i’m trying to work.” just like changbin the other day, hyunjin kept looking at the page in front of him with a sense of irritation.

you looked down at his paper and then at the problems scrawled across the blackboard at the front of the room. “but you got all of them right,” you countered.

“...okay, fine. what’s up?” he whispered back to you, finally looking you in the eye with an exasperated expression. now, hyunjin was a known drama king. he had his occasional grumpy moments, especially during your morning class, but he never looked at you with the expression he did in that moment. it was a mixture of irritation and passive aggression, as he attempted to keep a straight face.

disregarding hyunjin’s obvious shift in tone from other days, you decided to be straight forward and asked him, “has minho been acting off lately? he’s not responding to any of my messages and i barely see him in the halls anymore.”

“he’s…” hyunjin squinted a bit, feeling around in his mind for the right words to say. “he’s probably just going through something. give him some space for a little while.”

you chuckle, rolling your eyes. “that’ll be easy. he’s avoiding me like the plague.”

“really?”

you were surprised at hyunjin’s disbelief, as he was making it seem like he knew what was wrong with minho. “yes,” you said in what still felt like a whisper but really wasn’t.

“miss y/l/n,” your teacher reprimanded from the front of the room.

“my apologies,” you said bleakly with a hint of sarcasm. minho’s antics were really starting to get to your head. thankfully, your teacher disregarded your tone.

once the teacher resumed instruction, hyunjin turned back to you. “have you heard… the rumors?”

“what rumors?” you replied, quieter than before. “about me?”

he paused, confused. “you seriously haven’t heard?”

“hyunjin; you, minho, and the rest of the guys are my only friends. unless any of you told me, i know nothing.”

the blonde boy looked back down at his paper, still just as puzzled.

“what rumors are you talking about?”

slightly cutting you off, your teacher called your name once again, with more force.

soon thereafter, the bell rang and hyunjin left before you got the chance to question him further.

you couldn’t help but feel guilty. for what? you weren’t sure. but something bad was going on in your boyfriend’s life and you couldn’t do anything about it. and even his friends, who were equally as close to you, must have known what was bothering him.

so why couldn’t he confide in you?

a day passed and you were more sure than ever that everybody except hyunjin was avoiding you. what made things worse was whenever you’d pass minho in the halls and he’d shrug you off like he barely even knew you. he’d either become vague or walk away after giving you a short response. at this point, any and all forms of affection had become nonexistent.

whenever you entered a crowded hall, people you didn’t even know gave you odd looks. and, it would become more frequent whenever you were with minho. he’d always look around, observing their glances. that would always be his cue to leave.

in fact, even jeongin would swerve as soon as he saw you in the hallways. out of all the members of your friend group, he was the least likely to hold any sort of grudge, so you were troubled by his reaction to whatever secret drama there seemed to be.

if there was a rumor being spread about you, wouldn’t you deserve to know what it is? but then again, how would you confront anyone about it without sounding paranoid or narcissistic?

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

thursday came and went, leaving you with the final day of the school week. you had gotten used to the slight stares and whispers that surrounded you, despite your lingering confusion. school had ended twenty minutes ago, and you were waiting on a bench outside the school for your mom to pick you up. she was running late.

suddenly, the double doors opened up, revealing your boyfriend who walked alongside hyunjin. the two were laughing. it was honestly refreshing to see minho smile after not having seen him happy for a whole week. you caught the boys’ attention from a bit of a distance. minho waved at you, taking a deep breath. you waved and smiled back, trying to pretend everything was fine. that was until he turned around, gesturing for hyunjin to follow him in the opposite direction. your mood and expression instantly dropped.

but then, hyunjin paused, playfully punching minho’s arm and pointing in your direction. you couldn’t tell what they were saying, but you were incredibly grateful for hyunjin’s actions as minho refocused his path to you. as the two parted ways, you and hyunjin exchanged a wave.

at least someone had your back.

your boyfriend approached you. he chose not to sit down, opting instead to simply place his bag next to yours on the bench. he squinted at the sun, which poked out from the other side of the building. “hey.”

“hi…”

you were sick of playing games. you wanted answers.

“what’s wrong, minho?”

“...what? what are you talking about?” he bluffed, his hands clasped behind his back.

“come on. i know there’s something that’s been bothering you. you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

he adjusted his sweatshirt, placed his hands in his pockets. staring off into the distance, he questioned, “why’d you do it?”.

huh?

“what?” you asked in response. maybe this had something to do with his sudden coldness toward you. however, in disbelief from minho’s current emotional state, you maintained an innocent, slightly scared demeanor.

“why’d you tell everybody i’m a sap?”

“what the hell are you talking about?” you raised your voice a bit, beginning to get upset at minho’s accusation.

“that i make you get the bill at every restaurant, that i’d get lost if i wasn’t holding your hand…” at this point, he was counting on his fingers. you were getting more and more anxious by the second. so this is the rumor hyunjin was talking about…

you were so shocked. you looked away from him for a second, trying to process everything. your stomach was doing flips. you didn’t know whether to apologize immediately regardless of your innocence, try to explain your uninvolvement in this, or simply stay silent.

“don’t play dumb with me,” he remarked. “i know it was you.”

this was the most stern he’d ever been with you. especially while alone together. he furrowed his brow, his eyes staring into yours with intensity. you could tell he was angry, but you didn’t know at what.

your eyes dart back up into his. this time, it was your expression that scared him. you never usually got very frustrated with him, as this was your first time having a major communication issue with each other. this feeling was as new to him as it was to you.

but that didn’t matter in that moment.

you got up from your seat and took a step toward your boyfriend. despite your initial fear, that comment was the last straw. all of the emotions you’d suppressed throughout the week came to a head as you stood up for yourself.

“i’m not fucking dumb, nor do i claim to be. for your information, i had no idea a rumor was spreading about you until hyunjin told me. i also didn’t know what it was about until you told me just now. so next time, be upfront about your feelings before you make any assumptions about me.” you paused for a second, unclenching the fists that you hadn’t even realized you were clenching in the first place.

minho was shocked. rightfully so. that was the most riled up he’d ever seen you. he felt so terrible, having ignored you for nothing. how could he have doubted you? what could have driven you to say such stupid, petty stuff about him? you loved him. you always did. but he was too blinded by his ego to see it.

tears rose to your eyes once you finally released the extent of your aggression. you attempted to blink them away, but when you couldn’t, you let out an involuntary “i’m sorry.” you were barely able to use your full voice as tears began dripping down from your eyes and onto your cheeks.

minho wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in tight. his expression softened. “...don’t be. this was all my fault. i’m an asshole.” he used one hand to stroke your hair as he spoke with urgency. he felt you shaking beneath him, causing tears to poke at his own eyes as you released yours.

while pressed up against him and sobbing quietly into the fabric of his black crewneck, you wrapped your arms around his waist, settling into his embrace. “no you’re not,” you muttered in between sniffles. “you didn’t know.”

“but i should have.” he released you from his hold and places his hands on your shoulders. “this could’ve been taken care of a week ago if i just talked to you about it instead of being a dick.”

you took a deep breath as your face began to cool down a bit. “you were being a dick…” you joked (although, it was justified). he laughed a bit at your comment, but he was still very serious about this.

“you don’t have to forgive me right away, or ever. i know i can’t forgive myself for making you feel like that.” it was then that you realized he was on the verge of crying just as you had been. “ugh! and that comment i made earlier! fuck-” a single tear fell from one of his pitch dark eyes and onto his cheek, cutting him off as he was about to continue. he looked away, trying to collect himself.

“let it out,” you advised, reaching your hand up to wipe away the tear. he looked back at you with pursed lips, other tears evident in his eyes. “there’s no point trying to salvage a bad boy image when it’s just you and me.” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit so you can talk without becoming too emotional. but that seemed impossible.

“you’re right. i shouldn’t care so much.” he began stroking your hair again. you close your stinging eyes and let him. after a pause, however, he grabs your attention again. “i’m gonna find out who started the rumor.” his voice lowered as the anger began bubbling up inside him once again.

“minho, don’t worry about it. it’ll pass.” you unwrap your hands from his waist and reposition them around his neck, drawing his forehead closer to yours. you rub the nape of his neck with your fingertips, lightly combing through his jet black hair.

suddenly, you both became startled as you heard the faint sound of laughter, as well as the sound of a car pulling up behind you. minho turned around and you peeked out to the side. a group of boys sat inside a black mini van, parked along the curb in front of the sidewalk on which you stood. they were all laughing.

“is baby having a fit?” said chan, one of the popular boys in your grade, from the passenger seat. he was referring to minho.

chan was always up to no good, and you usually tried to steer clear of him and his friends in the halls. it immediately clicked in yours and minho’s mind that he must have been behind all of this drama. then, you realized how enraged minho must have been feeling and grabbed onto his sweatshirt sleeve for protection.

“so it was you,” minho said to chan. he sounded almost too calm.

walking toward your boyfriend with his hands behind his back, chan replied, “word travels fast when you find out someone’s not who he says he is. oh! y/n, that reminds me,” the smile on chan’s face was almost sickening to you as he shifted his attention to you. “my aunt’s looking for a babysitter. based on your resume,” he gestured to minho, “you seem like the perfect fit.”

before you could even react, minho turned around and removed your hand from his sleeve, giving it a quick kiss. “give me a minute, yeah?”

and with that, he spun back toward chan and swung a fist at his face with a loud grunt. you gasped, covering your mouth. chan stumbled slightly to the side, covering the side of his lip with his hand. when he rose again and uncovered it, you could see a patch of blood at the corner of his mouth. he wiped it away with a smirk.

“y/n, get inside, now,” minho demanded, still facing chan. he tried not to be too forceful, but this was important. he couldn’t risk you getting hurt even more than what he had caused.

you were at a loss for words. it was like you were frozen, unable to think of what to do or say or who to call. your feet remained planted on the ground as your heart raced with an intensity you’d never felt before. you could almost hear it.

chan laughed again, only this time it was laced with anger. “why would she listen to you? we all know you don’t call the shots.” you could hear chan’s friends reacting the whole time. ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’, laughter and snarky remarks.

that was the last straw for minho. he swung his fist back at chan’s face, except chan was able to catch it before it hit him. he pushed minho back, almost bumping into you. you were still unable to move, your mouth agape. you were absolutely horrified, and you couldn’t tell whether it was because your boyfriend started a fight or because he was in danger of getting hurt.

minho caught his balance, lunging toward chan again, his fist once again outstretched. this time, he missed, giving chan just enough time to thrust his own fist directly out at minho’s stomach. your boyfriend let out an audible expression of pain, squeezing his arms tightly around himself. to make matters worse, chan wasn’t done. he used the same fist to hit minho with an uppercut to the nose. minho fell to the ground, just missing where you stood. he landed on his palms, droplets of crimson liquid dripping from his nose onto the pavement. you called out his name, finally breaking out of your frozen state to drop to the ground and cradle your boyfriend’s upper body in your arms.

the sight was astounding, to say the least. tears lingered in and around minho’s deep, weary eyes as they looked up into yours. however, you were too concentrated on his afflictions to notice the love and guilt emanating from his gaze. his lip quivered, scarlet blood trickling down onto it. disregarding the damage it might do, you used the sleeve of your sweater to wipe some away. your vision was blurry due to the hot tears prickling through to the surface of your eyes.

chan chuckled once again, his laugh ringing in your ears. “that’s what i thought.” the turned around, blotting the blood on his lip and being commended by his idiot friends. as you watched chan begin making his exit toward the car, minho tugged on your sleeve. you glanced back down at him through hazy eyes. he placed his index finger to his lips, making a silent ‘shh’ face. he then slipped out of your grasp, using his stinging palms to guide himself off of the ground and stand up. he lunged at chan again.

minho grabbed chan’s left arm, swinging it behind his back and holding his shoulder down. the pressure he applied left chan’s arm feeling as though it could snap at any moment. he rithed and pleaded for minho to stop, but he didn’t. chan’s friends fell silent, but - similarly to you - they were too stunned and cowardly to break up the fight.

“look, pretty boy,” minho growled. “you can tell your friends whatever the fuck you want about me, alright? but what goes on between me and my girlfriend is none of your business. understood?”

in between groans and tugs, chan replied, “y-yes… ah… let me… g-go!”

“not until you tell me how it all started.” after chan neglected to respond, your boyfriend tightened his grip on chan’s arm, bringing it even closer to breaking. “hm?” he teased, a smirk pulling at the ends of his lips as he could feel chan beginning to comply.

“i saw you- fuck… at the restaurant…” minho was confused, until he remembered you insisting on paying the bill on your last date. “she paid for you… what a… gentlewoman- shit!” even when under extreme conditions, he still couldn’t give it a rest.

mercy had completely left minho’s eyes as he yanked on chan’s arm once more, releasing a cry from the helpless troublemaker.

however, that’s when you heard a teacher call out to them from the school’s entrance. “boys!” she exclaimed, beginning to approach the scene. “break it up!”

everyone, minho included, immediately shifted their gaze to the woman. chan was then able to break free from minho’s hold, rushing back into the car where he initially arrived. as the driver hit the gas and quickly directed the car out of the parking lot, minho shot his eyes at you. you swiftly grabbed your bags, and then his hand.

and then, you ran.

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

you were finally in the clear. after bending around a curve and re-entering the school, the two of you stopped running. you placed your hands on your knees, dropping the backpacks and panting as you both attempted to catch your breath. you had arrived down the hall from the boys’ bathroom. once you could properly regain a proper breathing pattern, you stood upright and examined your boyfriend. just as you both noticed a bloody rip at the knee his once perfect jeans, he began walking toward the bathroom to clean himself up. however, he couldn’t make it too far. his leg was sore from the impact of his fall, and the scrape and running sure didn’t help. he limped a bit, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him. placing it over your shoulder and wrapping your other arm around his waist, you guided him into the bathroom. once you entered, you had him sit on one of the sinks while you gathered supplies to clean his cuts.

“i’m gonna get in so much trouble,” he finally said. he spoke softly, due in part by the pain he was experiencing as well as his ongoing guilt.

“you didn’t have to start a fight,” you muttered, half disappointed but half sympathetic. you always knew he had an edge, but you never imagined you’d see him in a physical altercation. you never looked him in the eye, instead focusing on grabbing a piece of paper towel and turning on one of the faucets.

“like i said, you don’t have to forgive me. especially now- ah, shit.” you accidentally cut him off once you guided his left hand under the running water and started dabbing it with the towel.

you considered his words for a moment as he adjusted to the sensation of the warm liquid on his small cuts. furrowing your brow, you responded, “i don’t think i can yet. it’s too soon.”

“i understand.” he paused, solemnly. “thank you for taking care of me, though.”

“it’s only a bit of cleaning. anyone could’ve done it-”

“no.” he cut you off this time. “thank you for always taking care of me. you’re always there for me, even when i’m not around to reciprocate. you don’t deserve this. i was a shitty boyfriend…”

your eyes darted up to meet his. “was?”

“...well… that’s what you want… right?”

you turned off the faucet, still staring intensely into minho’s eyes. he appeared to be just as perplexed as you were.

“is that what you want?” your hands began shaking as you attempted to mask the anxiety that simmered inside of you. he was the one who was technically in the wrong, but you couldn’t deny the fact that he completed you. having a taste of what it was like to be without him made you realize more than ever that you needed him. you wholeheartedly believed that you could get through this with time... however, what if he had ulterior motives?

his eyes widened. “no! not at all.” his eyes briefly glanced at your hands. he could see the stress he was putting you through and he grabbed your hands, enveloping them in his. “i just figured that’s what you would want. you deserve so much more than…” he let go, staring at his bruised knuckles and the scrapes on his palms. “...this.”

you let his words sink in for a bit. “you know i don’t try to coddle you or anything, right?”

“i know. i’m so pissed at myself for letting all those rumors get to my head. even if those things were true, they wouldn’t be a problem… but i know that now.”

“it only took a few cuts and bruises,” you remarked. “look… i can’t say i’m not upset, but i’m willing to try and work things out… as long as you promise never to fight anyone like that ever again. you scared the shit out of me.”

“yeah… things got a little out of hand.” he used his free hand caress your jaw, stopping at your chin to tilt it up toward him. “i promise.” he pursed his soft, rosy lips before stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head. you smiled at each other with a newfound sense of closeness.

you continued cleaning up his scrapes until there was no more dripping blood. his nose was definitely going to need a bit of recovery, however you made him promise he’d let your mom take him to the hospital when she arrived at the school; and, he obliged.

you exited the bathroom to reveal the same teacher who attempted to break up the fight. she held minho’s bag. next to her stood the principal, who held yours.

minho was soon to follow you, discarding the rest of the paper towels in the trash. once he caught up to you, he glanced up to discover the same sight. he swallowed hard, his eyes growing wide. he looked down at you, and you at him. your heart was beating uncontrollably.

that is… until minho grabbed your hand, interlocking it with his. suddenly, despite impending doom, everything seemed okay.

and rumor has it, everything would be alright as long as you stuck together.

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