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alienaiver · 1 month

Text

Rugged

Aizawa Shouta x GN!reader

warnings: quirk-induced amnesia, canon minor character death (major in my heart tho), spoilers for... season 5 and forth? to be safe wordcount: 4.9k content: confessions, first kiss, fluff, sfw, no use of y/n, pro hero reader but quirk is unspecified, canon compliant, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, body positive reader, hurt/comfort in like the mildest sense, soft love, amnesia situation, friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, started as a meme turned into something serious, something about cats, unbeta'd, flashbacks to high school days

notes: this is so embarassing to admit but i only came up with this story bcos of that tiktok/insta reel (link is a tiktok as thats where i could find the source material) about having a type that's 'rugged'. it was supposed to just turn into a little joke on that and... uh, ykno suddenly i was almost 5k deep into a childhood friends to lovers, ..ya my brain had a VISION alrighty!!!!! please enjoy a one-eyed kitty, one-eyed aizawa and interrupted confessions!

Aizawa’s leaning forward on the desk, meticulously writing down an exact copy of your notes from English Literature that he missed yesterday due to being in the infirmary… again. He’s always known that becoming a Pro Hero with a non-physical quirk would be tough, but he didn’t imagine landing himself in a hospital bed as often as he does. He’s bulking up nicely, but he feels beaten black and blue every other day and it’s… exhausting.

Rewarding, but exhausting nonetheless. He’s momentarily disturbed as a chair is being dragged across the floor, screeching away before haphazardly thrown next to the desk, wrong side facing it, and Yamada throwing himself onto it, arms leaning on the backrest. He says your name in a sing-song voice – your given name, has he no shame? - and steals a peek of you from over the rim of his glasses. You rest your head in your palm and smile at him, “what’s up?” you ask, and he hums as if he’s thinking deeply about something. Aizawa’s got a bad feeling about whatever subject he’s about to bring up; ever since he appointed himself Aizawa’s wing man, the pestering’s both been non-stop and non-discreet.

Aizawa keeps his face buried in the notes, purposefully removing himself from the conversation.

“What’s your type?” Yamada asks and Aizawa has to hold back a facepalm. You simply giggle and play with the zipper from your pencil case before you answer, “hmm, I’m not sure. But with all due respect, I know it’s not you,” you tease him and he straightens his back in mock-surprise, the conversation’s one you’ve had before. He takes a hand to his chest, “what? Not me? Well you’re not my type either!” the shriek in which he yells is a little too loud, his quirk still a little too unmanageable when he gets excited – he winces as the rest of the class turn their heads. You simply laugh and bite your lower lip. Aizawa steals a look at you through his bangs, admiring the glimmer in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry ‘Zashi, I truly am, but… you’re just not… rugged enough.”

“What? I’m so rugged. I can be rugged!”

“Look at you, you’re not rugged,” you laugh as you gesture vaguely to… all of him. He takes offense as he puffs up his chest, “how am I not rugged? Because I’m not wearing a flannel in 80 degree weather?”

You hide your face in your hand as you try to contain your laughter, “yeah, sure, whatever… but look at you now. You fly off the handle like that, you’re too angry.”

“That’s a very rugged thing to do!”

“No, it’s really not.”

Aizawa has been saddled with the two of you for almost two semesters now, and he’s still not entirely used to the way you joke around. In the beginning he was always worried about you fighting and not getting along and he’d stare at you both with wide eyes like a startled cat and hope you’d settle down soon. You always did, laughing like the greatest joke was just told.

You lean forward on the table to bark out a laughter deep from your stomach, momentarily blocking the view of your notes that Aizawa’s copying. He lets out a soundless grunt at you being so close and pulls away in surprise when he accidentally smell your shampoo. He wants to lean forward again, to commit the scent to memory, but you’re already straightened back up, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye, “you don’t even want me, Hizashi, why is this always so important to you?”

This makes Aizawa freeze, terrified that Yamada will accidentally tell his secret to you. But Yamada simply crosses his arms, puffs up his cheeks and nods, “you’re right, I don’t. But I want you to want me. I’m the entire package.”

You laugh and shake your head, letting your arm fall onto the desk in defeat. “Sure then, ‘Zashi. I want you. Badly. More than anything. Please go out with me.” your face is as flat as Aizawa’s can be, and Yamada smiles proudly, “no thank you.”

Aizawa’s startled out of grading papers when his personal phone starts ringing next to him on the desk, the screen much too bright for the darkened room he’s situated in. It’s an unknown caller, which makes him hesitant at first but since it’s well past office hours, he knows it won’t be a salesman of any sort.

He bites his lower lip before he picks up.

“Aizawa speaking.”

“Ah, good evening. I apologize for contacting you at this hour, however, you are written down as the emergency contact for…” he apologetically butchers the pronunciation of your name, but gets your hero name correctly, “this is Aizawa Shouta, right?” the person on the other end confirms, and Aizawa nods before he verbally comes up with an answer.

“Well, it’s just that…” he explains your situation precariously, advising Aizawa to just come down to the station if he’s able, since someone will need to escort you home. He makes sure to remind Aizawa that you have two more emergency contacts on file in case he’s not available, but after getting the location, he’s already up from the chair before he’s hung up with the poor officer dealing with you.

From the call he knows you’re neither mortally wounded or in any kind of distress. You were on patrol when you encountered two villains. One of them turned out to have an amnesia quirk, and now you were stuck at the precinct, not entirely sure where your apartment is located. The officer informed Aizawa that you seemed calm and collected but that the last date you remember was well over 10 years ago even if you haven’t age-regressed in any way.

When he arrives, the officer leads him to one of the offices, profusely apologizing and thanking him at the same time. He’ll never really get used to the way newly appointed officers act around Pro Heroes.

Even if all facts and rationale tells Aizawa that you’re fine, he still grips the door handle way too tight, throwing open the door and evidently scaring the shit out of you, sprawled out on the couch with an ice bag on your knee. You spew out some profanities as you sit up. Aizawa immediately calms down as he sees you alive and well. He thanks the officer and agrees with the officer to sit down and talk with you before taking you home. He bows before he closes the door and looks back at you.

“I already gave a statement – was anything missing?” you ask, resting your hands neatly on your thighs. Aizawa shakes his head, “I came to pick you up – they informed you about which of the emergency contacts to call, right?”

Realization seems to travel across your features as Aizawa masks the sting he feels. Instinctively you reach out, but ultimately pull your hands back, “Aizawa?”

For a split second he lets his emotion show on his face – the way you say his last name instead of his given name, but he’s quick to hide it again. He nods and sits down on one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, “I was informed that your memory’s been wiped.”

You nod and look at the floor, “yeah. They took in the villains and interrogated them. It seems it’ll wear off in five to seven hours, but until then I’m stuck with my first work study as my most recent memory. I don’t feel like high school me, though, it’s just like there’s an empty gap in my timeline and not an age-related kind of thing. I can’t remember what has happened since then, but cognitively speaking, I’m still myself.”

Aizawa breathes in sharply, “well, that’s a relief. I have enough students to take care of,” he dryly jokes and the way your eyes widen make him self-conscious. He shouldn’t have made the joke he thinks as he shrinks in on himself.

“You’re a teacher?”

The way you ask betrays your emotions all too clearly and Aizawa holds back a snort. If the last of his personality you remember is high school, he gets why you struggle with the image of him taking care of the budding youth.

“A homeroom teacher, actually.”

Whatever preconceptions you had initially seems to dissipate and you smile proudly, “that’s amazing.”

You haven��t commented on his appearance; besides the moment where you didn’t recognize him, you don’t seem all too taken aback by his lack of eye and prosthetic leg. He’s relieved.

“You ready to go?” he asks, patting his lap with his palms before bracing himself to get up. You get up too and stretch your arms over your head, waiting for that satisfying pop, but it never comes. Annoyed, you let your arms falls and Aizawa smiles at you.

He leads you out of the room and as you put on the jacket he came with, he thanks the officers for their work with some polite back and forth and a bow.

The trip back is quiet as you seem to just take in your surroundings. You stop by your Agency to grab your personal items and civilian clothes that you left behind before your patrol. Luckily the offices are mostly cleared out, so you don’t have to ‘meet’ everyone and Aizawa gets out of explaining everything to everyone.

“Do you want me to escort you to your place? Or do you want to come to mine?”

The question is straight-forward and innocent; you sleep over so often that Aizawa’s spare futon has simply been dubbed your futon, but you seem taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. For a moment Aizawa’s blind to the confusion before he remembers.

“Sorry, you sleep over at my place a lot since it’s close to your work. I thought you might also like to see Benben.”

Your eyes that had seemed so tired ever since he arrived, lights up in recollection and excitement, “Benben’s alive and well?” you ask, absentmindedly leaning into Aizawa’s space in your joy. He struggles not to lean back reflectively.

“Yeah, she’s living with me now. She’s becoming old, though. But you’re still her favorite human, so she’d be happy to see you too.”

You giggle into your palm, clearly trying to picture Benben. She was a stray that you and Aizawa started to feed your leftover lunches to back during your first year at U.A. She was also one of the reasons you even started bonding with the stoic classmate. When you talk about the name Benben, a very bad nickname based off of bento, you always laugh and tease Aizawa about his cat-naming skills. While he defends himself in front of Yamada – the man with a habit of getting out his childish side – he never once argues against you on that subject.

Next to Aizawa, you clear your throat right as he’s about to unlock his front door. He’s been polite enough to not comment on the level of staring you’ve done ever since he picked you up, but it seems to be getting too much for yourself. He smiles at you gently, like he’s communicating with a lost child, and the smile makes you act before you can think too long about the action. Aizawa’s breath hitches and whole body freezes when your cold fingertips reach the skin of his cheeks. Your eyes look at him like they’re searching for something, and shortly after your palms make contact, your thumbs start traveling around his face, from his eyebrows to the slope of his nose and then a finger is being traced over the scar under his right eye. He can see all the questions fly through your head, the way you hold back from tracing the eye patch but stare at it like it’s not supposed to be there. He’s about to clear his throat when a thumb starts tracing his chapped lips before continuing down to his jawline, tickling his 5 o’clock shadow. As he tries to smile patiently at you, you mumble something under your breath that makes Aizawa’s heart stop for just a moment too long before racing at the same speeds as Yamada’s car when he’s late.

“It really is you… you’re just so…” you pause for a moment to swallow thickly and lick your lips, “…rugged.”

Not until you’ve had your (in Aizawa’s terms) grabby little fingers on every part of his face and given his heart an aneurysm with your words, does realization hit you. You seem to shrink and pull away to bow half-way a few times at him. Aizawa grumbles out a weak complaint about personal space and jingle the keys again to find the right one. No matter how advanced his work place is in terms of security and technology, he finds it unbelievable how many different types of keys he is expected carry for the school grounds alone. Logically, he’s aware that he’s fumbling due to your innocent advances but his brain’s not exactly acting calm and rational, so he furrows his brows and as he puts in the correct key, takes in a deep, calming breath.

When he motions for you to enter the apartment, he can’t help but observe you as you curiously peek around while you enter. You don’t toe off your shoes or step up from the genkan until the door behind him is locked and he gestures to the left pair of slippers in front of you. You let out a breath as you mumble, “sorry for intruding…” as if this isn’t your home away from home.

As Aizawa toes off his own shoes, he takes notice of your searching eyes. He jerks his head towards the living room, “she’s probably sleeping on the couch. She can’t hear very well anymore, so she doesn’t greet by the door.”

There’s a clear sort of heartbreak in your eyes that Aizawa recognizes, before you nod and walk in the direction of the living room. While your memory might be gone for the moment, it seems there’s muscle memory still intact as you purposefully step over the loose floorboard he always warns guests about. He smiles at that. Benben seems to spot you from her pillow on the couch because no sooner than you enter the room, he starts hearing the hoarse bleating of the senior kitty in there. She must’ve stayed up when Aizawa suddenly left, since it’s out of routine. She’s never been able to meow properly, which enchanted you since she first bleated at you for a bite of your convenience store-bought onigiri back when the two of you met her for the first time.

He hears you coo at her and can only imagine you both before he turns the other corner for his office to shut down the computer for the night. He quickly rejoins you and finds you with Benben on your lap, purring and headbutting your hands to her heart’s contents. When his eye travel higher to meet yours, he’s taken aback momentarily at the strained smile and wet eyes.

“She looks so loved.” you try to explain, and Aizawa can’t hold back the blush from the compliment. She does look loved now, a little on the fuller side (not by a lot, as her physical health is very important to Aizawa), her coat is shiny despite the coarseness that age brings, and she no longer has that stubborn eye infection it took Aizawa several years to treat out of her; she’s missing an eye now as a result, but she’s healthy.

You look around his living room, smiling and heaving in breaths at all the external proofs for her love; she has a pet staircase to both the windowsill, couch and the dining chair next to his; there are three different cat towers and several cat shelves for her to perch on although they’ve rarely been used for several years now. Aizawa can’t bear to take them down – what if she wants to go on one last adventure to the shelf highway he built for her close to the ceiling? It obviously wouldn’t be safe for her to do so, but robbing her of the options feels cruel to his heart.

When you pet her behind her ear and Aizawa situates himself on the floor pillow, you giggle, “you match.”

You’re referring to the missing eyes and while Aizawa takes no offense from the comment, he can’t help but snort at the straightforward observation. It’s very like you.

“How did you lose it?”

You don’t remove your eyes from Benben as you ask and from the shaky lilt to your voice, he knows you’re afraid of the answer. He’s afraid of telling you, too.

So much bad has happened during those years – you were there during his low points after, and asking that question is like removing the experiences you’ve shared. The grief you’ve suffered.

But he knows you want to know. Before he can answer, you continue, “can you tell me everything? About you… Oboro and Hizashi, too. I was informed it was only you, Hizashi and my mom on my emergency contact list. I know it’s not supposed to be miles long but… yeah…” you trail off and Aizawa’s grateful that you’re not looking at him. He’s not sure he’s able to control his face right now; and the emotion he’s showing wouldn’t be remotely close to soothing for you.

“Uh,” he jerks and clears his throat several times to stall, “when did you say your memory would be back?” he asks instead even if he’s aware of the answer.

You look up and hum thoughtfully, “they said five to seven hours around … two hours ago? So…” you count on your fingers and despite everything, Aizawa huffs out a soundless laugh, “three to five hours? Give or take.”

He inhales sharply. He can’t drive you off for that long, even if he used going to bed as an excuse. You’d just toss and turn in fear of what you’d come to remember.

So he tells you. He retells every painful memory with clear objectivity, pausing to let you process each one, seeing the light slowly dissipate in your eyes for every terrible incident. When he reaches present day, he inhales slowly and holds his breath for a moment to control his own emotions.

You’ve stopped petting Benben who’s sound asleep on your lap now, your hands hanging like lifeless limbs by your side. Aizawa then clears his throat, “you were scouted. In third year. ‘Zashi opened a radio station shortly after graduation. Oboro’s mom still invites us for hotpot for his birthday every year despite the mismatch in dish and weather,” you both laugh at that one – of course she insists on his favorite dish on such an important day. An image of the four of you huddled around, sweating over a pot of delicious food has you throwing your head back in sincere laughter, “you have a prodigy; you inspired me to take a pupil on as well, and he’s graduating this spring… I, uh… I use eye drops now.”

The last tidbit of information makes you turn your head so fast you almost get whiplash. Then, your expression turns stern, “didn’t I tell you! Didn’t I tell you to be careful!” you reprimand and he almost rolls his eye at you. Almost.

You shake your head at him and focus back on Benben, a little more color on you again as the mood has successfully shifted. He’s unsure if you’re pretending to be fine for his sake or if he actually succeeded in making you feel better, but he can’t stifle the yawn that comes out of him as soon as he feels relief.

You look up apologetically, “oh my God I’m so sorry, I’ve kept you up haven’t I? Please, you can just go to bed, I’ll be okay!”

Aizawa wants to argue but he also can’t fight the creaky ache he feels in his bones. He went straight from a night shift to school, napped in the teacher’s lounge and then home to grade papers. He’s dead-tired.

He gets up to carry his futon into the living room and set yours up in his bedroom. Usually, you sleep in the same, bare room as him and Benben, but he feels it might be too much for you without your memories, even if you sleep on separate futons with space in between. You make a joke about the futons but then, in a soft voice admit, “I think it’s nice you sleep on something accessible for Benben…” there’s a warm tone to your voice that makes him blush heavily before he pushes you out of his living room.

“I’ll sleep out here, you take the bedroom.”

You meekly argue about taking his bedroom, but he shuts you down in the same way he’s always done, and urges you to carry Benben in with you. You agree to have the door ajar in case Benben wants to walk around, and you bow your head when you bid him goodnight. Aizawa lets the light in the hallway stay on.

////

You wake up with a hitched breath and sweat on your brow, unsure when you managed to fall asleep. Disoriented, you take in Aizawa’s bedroom; you were supposed to sleep home tonight after your shift though, not to mention that Aizawa’s futon isn’t laid out next to yours. It takes you a moment to gather your bearings until it all comes back to you. You’d lost your memory.

You’d lost yourself. You hug your arms around you as the feeling of being lost still sits heavy in your body and makes you shiver. Seeing Aizawa was terrifying; you’d no idea of the obvious horrors he’d had to endure. You didn’t remember your best friend’s death.

For a moment you control your breathing, making yourself calm down as best as you’re able. It makes sense why Aizawa decided to sleep in the living room, if the last memory of him was a pimple-y teenager and not the gruff man he is today. You close your eyes and think back to right before you entered the apartment.

You roll onto your stomach and hide your face in your hands, letting out a drawn-out flustered groan. Without thinking, you kick your legs on the bedding to alleviate the embarrassment that’s coursing through you at your own actions. You’d just went all up in his face! The sensation of his stubble underneath your fingertips, his warm breath and his chapped but so, so kissable lips.

No!

You groan again, drowning in your one-sided misery of a crush. Your honed Pro Hero senses are completely dulled by your pining, so when Aizawa suddenly throws open the door and asks if you are alright, you screech as you lift your head from the pillow, “Shouta!”

“Shit, sorry, I heard you moving around so I thought you might have a nightmare,” he hurries to explain, secretly relieved to hear you say his given name again. He frowns when he can’t see your face with your back turned to him. Still frozen, you barely breathe before he continues, “...you are alright, right?”

Making a grimace and with no interest in facing him right now, you choke out “mhmyepdefinitelyeverythingsperfect!” in one single breath before you’re forced to inhale deeply. You hear Aizawa’s metallic foot as he walks towards your futon and hear the rustling of his clothes as he bends down in a squat next to you, “you don’t sound perfectly fine to me, though. Do you have a fever? Is it an aftershock from getting your memories back?”

Being the perfectly rational man that he is, he oversteps any boundaries to quickly check your temperature with his palm. Embarrassment can come after he’s made sure you’re okay.

You push his hand away weakly, still looking pointedly at the wall in front of you, letting out a strained laugh, “heehee, I’m just… you’re right, it must be an aftershock, right? Nothing else!”

He lets you swat his hand away without much resistance but stays where he is, letting the silence hang over you both for a minute. Suddenly, he croaks out all hoarse and desperate, “Just tell me if there’s anything, please.”

Your shoulders fall at the voice. Aizawa’s the opposite of having a heart on a sleeve, but you’ve been with him through enough tragedies to know he must be scared shitless right now. Whenever you or Yamada is even remotely bruised, he fusses over you in his own, annoyed way, until he finds you sufficiently healed. You sigh before you let your head fall back onto your pillow, a short moment to gather your thoughts and feelings before having to face him.

It must’ve been a lot for him, when you asked him to recount the years you’d momentarily lost. It would’ve been better to let it be, but he knew you so well and knew you wouldn’t let it go. Curiosity kills the cat, right?

With heavy and slow movement, you turn around so that you’re facing him, hoping your expression won’t betray your real emotions. You sigh and reach out for his hand. It’s shaking but as soon as your warm fingers make contact, he flinches before he relaxes.

Then, he grunts like he’s annoyed and chastises you for worrying him. You giggle, “I’m sorry, you’re tired, right?” you ask, knowing his schedule this week is packed. He usually leaves little wiggle room for emergencies, however many he encounters.

Before he can reply, you pull at his hand and he topples over, half on the futon and half on the floor, on his knees. You laugh and pull him even closer to you, hoping your beating heart isn’t as loud as it feels.

You and Aizawa have cuddled before; loneliness and grief has made you carve out comfort in each other, but nothing else have ever been spoken aloud. No kissing, no romantic notions to trace back to. Having a one-sided crush since high school feels deafening right now, when all the years travel back to you after what only amounts to a moment without them.

You want to tell him how you feel; losing your memories made you realize how much you’d like for him to comfort you with kisses if anything should ever happen; how you’d like for him to hold you without holding back.

He grumbles where his head is rested in your neck after he’s settled, but he makes no effort to move. You nuzzle into the mane of hair and breathe in his scent; it’s a lavender-scented shampoo that Yamada insists on buying for him. He never accepts it without complaining, but he also never showers without using it. There’s a spare in your bathroom, at the Agency’s bathroom and at his teacher’s dorm at U.A.

“Y’know, I was really surprised for a moment that you became a teacher.”

He makes no movement, but you know he’s listening.

“But as soon as I thought about it, it made perfect sense. You care so much it sometimes hurts to watch…”

You feel his fist tighten around your bedding, but he stays otherwise quiet still.

“You hurt watching me, too, right? How we both have a habit of bending over backwards for what we perceive is right.”

You start dragging your hands through his hair, letting out a sigh.

“I like that we know each other so well. I like how after so many years, you’re still right here in my arms…”

You pause as his upper arm snakes around you, a sharp exhale against your neck.

“You’ve never dated anyone. At least, not anyone you’d tell me about, so I have no idea where this will lead me to but,”

You take a moment to gather your nerves. There’s really no backing down now. Even if you regret it, your words have already given your feelings away; there’s nothing you can take back.

There’s nothing you want to take back.

You’re about to continue your confession when Aizawa pushes against your neck, his warm lips, soft despite the dryness, presses against your pulse point. You can hear your heartbeat so loud in your ear that the rustling of the sheets from Benben is indistinguishable to you, the only sensation you’re able to take in being Aizawa’s lips as they briefly pull away from your neck, only to push back higher up, closer to your jaw.

You whine and pout, but it’s shaky and without much force. You want to protest, scold him for interrupting you but suddenly he lifts his head to face you, and you’re faced with wide eyes and blown pupils. He steals a glance at your lips before he licks his own, pink tongue peeking out. You feel like a cornered prey, one that’s about to be devoured by a beast. When he hovers mere millimeters above your lips he pauses as if to ask for permission and the sigh you let out makes him know that everything’s okay. That everything he’s ever wanted, wished for, dreamed of, is real.

That losing your memory for a second made you desperate to make more meaningful ones.

And you kiss.

While curiosity did kill the cat, satisfaction definitely brought it back.

#its been a while since i wrote and posted a full blown fic so im suddenly nervous........ in like the way i used to be when i started! its #little fun to feel that way again after 30+ works!!!#aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #aizawa shouta fluff #reader insert #nohr.writing #nohr.bnha #i honestly MOSTLY hope that this is coherent. i really did shift my perspective half way in bcos i like to flesh out pain apparently KJDASK #ilysm yall<3333 hope u enjoy this smooching offering

71 notes · View notes

oxymorayuri · 3 months

Text

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝟽

𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠 »

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐿𝑎𝑤 ✘ ♀ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Story: The princess of Tanata

(Long Fic)

➽ Click on this link to see all chapters.

Spoiler: none

Warnings: none

slowburn with plot

Wordcount: 2826

Text in italics emphasizes the reader’s thoughts

Bold and italic text emphasizes Law's thoughts *~*

You sneakily slide into the Hera Palace as if you didn't want to be discovered. On your way you get surprised looks from the servants because you are acting a bit suspicious rather than hiding well...

Curiously you look into the fireplace room and your eyes roam over the empty room, which is a bit messy. No one was awake yet, that's for sure.. It's quite early and who knows how long the pirates had fun yesterday. You lean against the door frame, feeling a little sad... You are sure that you will not find any of your guests there. At least not anyone who is awake, because you can hear soft snoring coming from your side.

Carefully you follow the noise and look behind the table, in front of the fireplace. You hold your breath briefly as you see the polar bear sleeping peacefully in front of the fireplace. Quietly you lean over the mink while absolutely enjoying this cute view. Every sound that leaves the furry lips enchants you a little more. You don't even notice how someone enters the fireplace room and approaches you.

"Oh.. Good morning princess!" A bright female voice greets you with a surprised tone. You quickly turn around with your finger pressed to your lips and silently gesture with your head towards the bear. The young woman immediately understands what you are meaning. She quietly placed the basket that she was holding, on the table next to you. With soft steps she comes closer to admire the big bear together with you, which is rolling back and forth in peace.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” you whisper to the maid with a reddened face. She nods at you with hearts in her eyes. Behind you you can hear other servants going about their everyday duties and all the commotion causes the bear to wake up with a start. The first thing the Mink sees is you, leaning over him, looking at him in a lovestruck state. The bear blushes a little in surprise and rubs his face.

“Good morning.” you greet him with a friendly smile, which makes the polar bear blush even more.

"G-g- good morning!!!" the bear crawls away from you, somewhat embarrassed. Giggling, you straighten yourself and go to the couch to fall into it.

"You seem to have fallen asleep." - "hehe yeah it was so cozy in front of the fire.." The bear admits sheepishly. No one can take away your grin when you look at the bear. You would like to dress him in the most beautiful fabrics instead of having him wear such a strange suit. You rest your chin on one hand while sitting calmly on the sofa.

A loud rumble draws attention to Bepo's stomach, whose head is now as red as a tomato.

"Hmm, someone seems hungry!" you clap your hands together. "Camille, please have a sumptuous breakfast brought to the fireplace room." - "Uhhh, yes of course my highness but why don't you eat in the dining room?" - "Hmm, I just find it more comfortable here." Camille looks at you a little questionably after looking through the chaotic room. You just grin at her carefree.

The chaos doesn't bother you at all. If anything, you find it very pleasant that some life and chaos appear in this perfect castle...

The mess feels better.

With sparkling eyes and saliva at the corner of his mouth, the bear examines the breakfast feast.

"Go for it." you encourage him. The Mink doesn't need to be told twice and jumps in and tries out a wide variety of delicacies, that the chefs have prepared. You happily put your teacup to your lips while you watch him eat with pleasure.

One by one, pirates came into the room and joined you when you called them over. The pirates started their meal happily.

Camille, who always made sure that food was brought, almost couldn't keep up because the pirates finished the plates in no time.

"Luffy would clear the table in milliseconds." Nami remarks. You sense sorrow in her voice and look up from your teacup to her.

"Luffy…" you whisper to yourself. You remember what you saw in him. The battle of the pirates against the marines. How someone very important died right in front of his eyes... You felt this pain.. His pain! which was almost worse than the pain from the poison.

"I should go to him right after breakfast and see how he's doing." you tell Nami. “I’m coming with you!” interjects Chopper. After a very entertaining breakfast with the pirates, you decide to go to the Strawhat with Chopper.

However, before you entered the pirate's room, the door opened and Law came towards you. You greet the dark haired man in surprise. A closer look at him and you see dark circles under his eyes. His eyes rested on you for a moment before quickly finding another spot to look at.

"If you want to check the Strawhat, you don't have to do that anymore. I healed a few bruises and checked his organs. He's doing great and sleeps peacefully." He finishes his sentence quite quickly.

"Thank you Law." your genuine smile and little bow make Law freeze. He seems surprised why you're thanking him but doesn't say anything else.

"You should go down to the others and have breakfast." you try to keep the conversation going but you get no answer, just a slight nod. Beeeeetter than nothing - you think.

You quickly went back to the royal palace for breakfast with your family.

"Y/n, I would like you to go to the guests' ship today with a small group and write up a report. If you have an idea about how we can get the ship into the city, then don't hesitate to take the necessary steps. " Said Grandfather while making honey in his tea.

His gaze first over the tea, he went to Zelos. "Please prepare a small group that will accompany y/n. I want you to make Admiral Ambrosios head of the squad."

Your uncle reacts a bit confused and offended. "Father, I'm y/n's uncle and have always been her escort... It's..." before your uncle can continue whining, the king waves him away "I need you for something more important." As he speaks his last word, Zelos devours the words on his tongue. Your grandfather looks carefully across the room. The servants scurry around the room from time to time, filling up empty glasses, clearing away empty plates or waiting at each side to attend to our wishes upon request.

"I wish to speak to my family in private." He spoke a bit louder and all the servants left the dining room.

He clasped his hands together and looked at us with a serious expression this time.

"Last night a couple of runners* saw another ship floating around the island. They don't seem to be particularly close but the report says they are steadily circling the island." Firmly you cling to the armrest with both hands as your grandpa speaks. Zelos is silent and listens attentively.

"They are watching us but we don't know who is watching us." Delia makes a horrified noise and with her fingers in front of her mouth she carefully asks what that means. You can tell that the king is trying to choose his words carefully so as not to cause panic.

"I can't say for sure… I just want this information to stay between us for now." suddenly your grandfather looks at you with an intense gaze. You already know that the last sentence is especially meant for you. You look at him nervously "Hehe... yeah… I promise to the gods I won't spill anything." You look away ashamed. "So far... only the runners, Anatol and you know about it. The reason why you won't accompany y/n in the forest is because you will go south to the ancient ruins with a group chosen by me, and there you will build a temporary base." Delia looks up worriedly at Zelos, who looks determinedly into his father's eyes. "Of course my king." You look from your uncle to your grandfather, a little scared.

"I know it's a bad time..." His voice seems softer than before as he looks at Delia. "...but I assure you, my dearest, that I am not preparing to attack. Just a precaution. If we're lucky, they'll just circle the island, looking for a way out of the storm." - "I pray to the gods." Delia exhales with some relief again.

"I want you to head straight to Anatol after breakfast to put together the team for the ship recovery. He will also give you more details about the ship that was spotted. Then make your way to the ruins, with unit 7." - "Of course." Zelos answers firmly and salutes him.

"It's important that our guests' ship is recovered before anyone else sets foot on this island. Let's make it look like this island is deserted..." The three of you nod to the king.

Even if silence isn't a sound, it echoes through the room.

Your grandfather's sharp gaze makes you flinch and small beads of sweat run down your forehead.

“Back to you, my child.” You watch him quietly as he cracks his fingers.

"We'll have to ask a few questions later over tea with your guests. I don't want to insinuate anything, but it's a bit suspicious that another ship shows up shortly after they got here." He watches you carefully as you swallow hard.

"Yeah, I understand. Of course that's understandable."

You continue with your breakfast in silence and a little tensely. No one really knows what to think of the situation.

You exhale heavily and fall onto your bed.

The thoughts make your brain melt as you stare at the ceiling.

Damn it!

You put an arm over your closed eyes and try to sort out your thoughts. Inwardly you pray that the pirates aren't hiding anything and therefore aren't a danger to you.

You have to think about all the different people, about Nami's sad face and how friendly everyone seems. You think how exhausted the group was and how grateful each and every one of them was.

It's tearing you apart... Especially because you understand why your grandfather thinks that way.

He thinks like a king.

You sit up and go to your dressing table to distract yourself a bit.

Luckily I'll never become queen.

You admit to yourself in front of the mirror while combing your hair.

You would probably make the wrong decision.

Grandfather is always in control. He is always so calm and confident despite all the crises. As you think about what an praiseworthy king your grandfather is, you think of your mother. You carefully pick up the picture in front of you.

What would you do mom? Would you have helped the pirates?

It hurts you that you will never get an answer.

On the way to tea with your grandfather and the pirates, you come across Nami, Sanji, Zoro, Law and the Polar Bear.

Nami waves happily at you and you take your dress in your hands and run over to them.

"Hey guys! Are you the ones drinking tea with me and Grandpa?" Nami nods at you with a grin and Sanji moves between you and her to get on his knees.

"You look ravishing again, my highness. As if created by the gods." He places thousands of small kisses on the back of your hand. You stare rigidly at him while one of your eyebrows twitches uncontrollably.

"Sanji time out!" Nami shouts and punches him.

"Uhm, princess?" says the bear, a little shyly.

"My name is Bepo and I wanted to thank you for the wonderful breakfast..." You can't believe these bright people could be bad people who would intentionally put us in danger. You don't know why, but your gut just screams that they are good people.

Hopefully you aren't blinded by your curiosity.

"I'm very glad you enjoyed it, Bepo." You lightly stroke the bear's arm.

"Well then... are you ready to meet my king?" With both arms on your hips, you stand in front of the group and they nod resolutely at you.

When you arrive at the pavilion, you see that the king is not there yet. The servants set the table and assign the guests their seats. You take your usual seat at the short end of the table and look a little nervously at the empty seat across from you. The King's seat.

Your nervous looks don't go unnoticed and Law, who's sitting to your right, clears his throat.

"Does the king know we are pirates?" You look at him in surprise.

"I strongly assume that he knows. I found out yesterday that nothing goes unnoticed by him." A little tired at the thought of last night's dinner, you stretch your arms forward and place your chin in both of your hands.

"I advise you not to lie or hide important things. I have no idea how he aaaaaaalways knows everything, if it's not clairvoyant abilities then I don't know what is." At the end of your sentence, you look sideways at Law, waiting for his answer.

"I see, we'll keep that in mind."

After a short while and some tense small talk, your grandfather finally appears. You promptly get up from your seat and the others do the same after you give them a small hand gesture. The king goes to his seat and looks at you all with an unreadable expression.

"I greet you, my dear guests." - "I greet you, my king."

You give your counterpart a slight bow and the others mumble a little hello and bow too. Your guests look at you somewhat questioningly because they don't quite know what to do while everyone is standing. "Take a seat." At the king's words you take a seat and the others follow suit. The king inspects the guests while the servants set the table and pour each one a tea of their choice. The calming scent of your tea lets you breathe in deeply. You're just waiting for the king to start the conversation.

"My name is Leandros and I am the King of Tanata." He says with pride.

“Please introduce yourselves.” One by one they introduced themselves to the king and you looked from face to face a little tensely.

"As you may have guessed, there is a reason why I called you here. Aside from wanting to introduce myself and get to know you, there is something we should discuss." And with this introduction the conversation began. The king asked those present a few questions to get an idea of the crew and when his mind was satisfied, he revealed the problem.

"You have to consider how striking it seems to me that another ship is circling the island... It's been a few years since we had "visitors" and now we've had them twice." You can tell the pirates don't really know who it could be. They admitted that they cannot rule out the possibility that they were being followed.

You look to your right again and watch as Law looks thoughtfully into the distance.

"I still can't imagine how anyone could have followed us from the battlefield. Our ship is a submarine and we were so deep in the sea that it's actually impossible." The king thoughtfully strokes his beard.

You're glad that the situation has developed in a good direction. It is clear that your grandfather does not suspect the pirates. Their explanation seems plausible so far and you hope that he believes in their innocence too. With the experience and knowledge of the pirates, you discuss the topic with the foreign ship.

“Can you tell what kind of ship it is?” Nami asks.

"So far the runners have not been able to identify anything more precise. What is certain is that it is not a ship of the marines."

The conversation went better than expected and your posture became more and more relaxed. The king asked a few questions out of interest in the pirates and their story, which were answered without hesitation and pure honesty.

Suddenly the king's butler came running.

"My king. Please excuse the interruption, but I have something to tell the princess!" Giles bowed deeply to the king.

"Rise and speak Giles."

Before the butler turned to you, he bowed again.

"The boy is awake!" he said somewhat panicked.

*= A unit that observes the island and surrounding areas

If u liked the chapter let me know in the comments :3

See you next time, kiss kiss ♡

➽ Next chapter

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hypersonic04 · 1 year

Text

Part One:

I haven't written anything in so long, but today I had a sudden burst of inspiration for an enemies-to-lovers series with Ross? If anything, this is for me to simply live my fantasies (lol). word count: 1,467

My shoes are squeaky on the floors, and it's like the fluorescent lighting of the hallway makes me even more conscious of the nails-on-a-chalkboard noise emanating from my footsteps. I cringe to myself and pray that the band aren't recording anything important right now - I don't think the sound of rubber against wood flooring in the background of his song is something Matty would see as valuable to the band's development.

I try to blame my lack of sleep and hydration for the swirling feeling in my stomach, however I reckon it's probably more to do with the fact that today is my first day working with them. Working in music is something I've always wanted, but throwing myself in at the deep end with one of the biggest bands in the industry was not exactly my plan. When someone like Jack offers you the opportunity to write with The 1975, you don't pass it up.

I reach the room that Jamie pointed me in the direction of, a sign stuck on there with blu-tack - 'WRITING IN PROGRESS'. My lungs feel like they can't fill up properly as I attempt to take a deep breath, my hand drifting to the doorknob.

It was almost like I commanded the door to open with my mind. It swings open aggressively before I can even touch it, and I'm met with what I can only describe as a biblically-accurate Jesus.

He's frowning, and I can't help but feel like I'm already in their way. He excuses himself past me with pursed lips and a raised brow, slipping past me and swiftly making his way down the hall I had only been nervously pacing minutes ago. His shoes didn't squeak, though.

"Uh, hi!" I say, perhaps a tad too sprightly for the atmosphere of the room. "I'm Iris, I-"

"Lovely to meet you, Iris. I'm Adam," He stands up and holds his hand out, the first out of the four of them to greet me. It seems like they were having a meeting of sorts, the three remaining men in the room each sat on sofas. Adam almost seems relieved that there had been a change of topic upon my entrance, the tension in the room easing slightly as he shakes my hand. "This is Matty, George..." He gestures between them and they give me a friendly smile each, the kind you might give to a new colleague in an office.

I stand awkwardly in the doorway, and it's at that moment that I begin to question everything. What was I thinking? Why did I possibly think that writing music with a very established, very successful band was a good idea?

"I, uh-" I wrack my brain for what I'd practiced to say next, but the whole situation is nothing like I had expected. I mean, there's only three of them here, for a start.

"Jamie played us a few of the songs you've worked on, you're really talented." Matty states matter-of-factly, still sat with his legs spread wide, an acoustic guitar leaning against the side of the sofa.. "I didn't realise you'd worked with Phoebe."

"Thanks," I smile quickly and subconsciously run my hands over the denim around my hips, immediately stopping when I realise how visible my nerves are. "Yeah, we met through Jack."

"How do you know Jack?" He asks, and it takes me a few moments to recognise that his bluntness is not a reflection of his opinions of me, but rather just his general manner.

"We met at The Brits. I was there on a uni placement, and we just kind of got talking." I nod, as if the gestures affirms my place in the room.

"Do you want a drink or anything, before we start?" George stands up suddenly and it's almost a comfort, a swift diversion from my professional accolades and connections.

"Yes, please," I smile. "Just water will be fine, thank you."

I take a seat on the sofa and grab my notebook, scraps of verses and snippets of bridges scribbled down in virtually unintelligible hand-writing. Looking up as George hands me the bottle of water, I notice the look they exchange between themselves.

"I'm really sorry, I don't mean to be forward, but isn't there supposed to be four of you?" I break the silence, an airy chuckle masking my anxiety.

"Uh, yeah," Adam starts, but is quickly cut off by Matty.

"Yeah, Ross." He looks at me with a face that suggests he's pissed off. "but someone's in a bit of a mood today, so he's not going to be joining us." He sighs.

We start by discussing what their main focus is at the minute, the direction they want their fourth album to go in, their usual creative process. It feels like a priviledge to have such knowledge, my brain simply a sponge for information like this. I think Matty can sense me engagement as he talks, going into detail as I make notes like it's a lecture. The icy atmosphere in the rooms thaws gradually, as do my nerves and apprehension at being in a recording studio alone with three strange men. I admire their respective passions for music, whether it be playing it or producing it, and it's as if there's a sense of respect between the four of us as we discuss our plans for writing.

The conversation flows easily, until it doesn't.

The door swings open, exactly as it did about an hour ago when I was on the other side of it. My breath hitches as he enters the room, my eyes glued to the notes sat in my lap. There's an almost frosty silence creeping in, and I wonder what could have possibly happened between them to cause this.

"Ross, this is Iris." Matty introduces me as offers me an apologetic smile, his eyes creasing at the edges.

I look over to where he's stood, the door closing behind him and suddenly making the room feel a lot smaller. Ross' eyes are dark - really dark. Nearly as dark as the hair he wears pulled back, and the beard that decorates his face. I swallow nervously as I give him a smile, the twisting feeling in my stomach worsening when he doesn't return it. I look away, half because of the anxiety pooling in my chest, and half because I'm convinced that if I'd have stared for any longer, I wouldn't have stopped.

"Nice to meet you." He replies, his back turned to me as he fiddles with the knobs and faders on the dashboard. I hear George inhale sharply, his frustration clear. Adam shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat.

"We've just been showing her some of the songs we're working on. Feel free to join us." Matty says sharply. "You know, seeing as it is actually your band, too."

Ross turns around quickly and rather that aiming his stare at Matty, it finds me. I involuntarily raise my eyebrows in surprise, looking to the other boys in search of answers, perhaps. His icy glare lands on me for a few seconds before he appears to give in to something, huffing loudly and making his way to the seat furthest from me. I wonder whether it's intentional as he folds his arms across his chest and looks between the four of us expectantly.

The discussion carries on, and it takes everything in me not to get up and run. His mere presence makes my muscles stiffen, and every time I look up and see him staring at me from across the room, I feel sick.

"So are we all ok to meet again tomorrow? I think it would be better if we use Real World, it's better for recording the strings and stuff." Matty talks as he gathers his notebook and belongings from the coffee table in front of him. We all agree, and before we can make further arrangements, Ross is already leaving the room. I stand there, my hands by my sides, a sense of disappointment overwhelming me.

"It's nothing personal, Iris." George tries to justify, raising from his seat as frowning at me. I nod, also gathering my things and stuffing them into my tote bag. "Honestly."

I don't know what I expected - they've known each other forever. It was naive of me to think that I was going to swan in and connect with them all immediately, writing some gems and leaving with a paycheck and four new friends. Nevertheless, the disheartened feeling that swells in my chest hurts.

"We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Matty rests a hand on my shoulder, and the whole sense of familiarity in the exchange makes me feel a tad better about the impression I've made.

"Yeah, I'll be there, 12pm on the dot."

#1975 band #adam hann #fanfic #george daniel #matty healy #ross macdonald #the 1975 #matty the 1975 #bfiafl #atpoaim

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crystalsnow95z · 4 months

Note

My ideia is when Jjangu ( Jin dog ) die the member comforts him I forgot to say This part It makes him cry a lot

I'm Only guessing this is the correct day he got the news, and if I'm wrong please forgive me.. it just seems most likely after hours of looking.

“Army have you eaten?” Yoongi asks the crowd, who answers with no, making him frown. They were chatting with fans before preforming.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Jin asks hoping the fans ate at least something before coming to meet them.

The crowd asks if he ate.

“Yeah I ate already.” Jin replies

"We had Kimbap heaven.” Yoongi informs the crowd.

“You need to eat to survive.” Jin tells the crowd in a slight pout.

“What would you like to eat?” Taehyung asks.

The crowd start yelling different things, the members trying to listen in to what they were saying.

Jungkook's eyes grow wide as he tries to pick up their words. “Chicken fried rice?” He asks with confusion making army giggle.

“Jungkookie will treat you!” Taehyung teasingly promises the crowd, making the members giggle, Jin wrapping his arm around Jungkook.

“Jungkook-Ah please sing go go.” Jin asks with a smile when Jungkook

“Spend spend spend~” Hoseok starts singing to help encourage him to not be shy about it, Jungkook joining in, dancing along.

Yolo Yolo Yolo.” Jungkook sings with a big shy smile.

“What should we do if army really wants to eat hamburgers?” Hoseok goes right back on the topic of food, trying to save Jungkook from feeling shy.

The members go to tease Jungkook about him paying again, but the mankae volunteers before they could say anything past his name.

“If that's the case? When will this happen?” Jin asks,putting his arm on Jungkook who looks flustered by the question.

“when an opportunity comes..” jungkook says with flushed cheeks when he hears the crowd cheering for him.

“Hyung! Aren't you going to go to jungle?” Hoseok saves Jungkook from the spot light, changing the attention to Jin, promoting the variety show Jin went to.

“Where?” Jin asks clearly knowing what he meant, by his reddened ears.

“You're not going to the jungle this time?” Hoseok asks again.

“It's the first time in my life i saw someone like the jungle so much.” Yoongi chuckles.

“Jin hyung really liked the jungle.” Hoseok agrees, giggling the words.

“Our Jin hyung is law of the jungle~” Jungkook starts singing to the tune of DNA, the others joining in.

“It's Byung man's law~” Jin sings with a smile.

“It was a lot of fun. I enjoyed it.” Jin admits with a shy smile.

“You really liked it? You should go on variety shows more often then.” Jungkook suggests, wanting Jin to enjoy himself.

“It's too tiring, so I decided not to go.” Jin turns down the offer, knowing his limits.

“very good.” Hoseok giggles, shaking his hand and pulling him to give him a friendly shoulder bump.

Jin quickly looks for a new target to tease, choosing Jimin. “Jimin-sii Why is your hair so curly today?”

Jimin acts cute, pretending to question why himself.

“Its very…hold on..” Jin looks more closely, smiling when he sees Jimins parted bangs make a heart shape. “Can a camera zoom in just a little? Isn't his hair making a little heart?” he gestures to Jimins bangs pulling him close to him. “This is a heart for army. He backs up to get a better look, reaching to touch them.

Jimin blushes at all the attention, pushing Jin's hand away when he tries to touch them some more.

“Since Jin hyung said it it's even funnier.” Jungkook smiles.

“Why? Why? Can't I say something romantic?” Jin continues to tease.

“It's just like going back to ‘jungle.’ “ Namjoon tries helping to explain.

“I don't know about other people,but when hyung says it, it sounds like a joke..” jimin says.

“What? What do you mean? I'm being very earnest!” Jin argues with a pout, making Jimin laugh.

“That's why on stage you shouldn't mention things like going on Law of the Jungle.” Namjoon tells him.

“I said I wasn't going!” Jin dramatically pout, then changes to a serious tone. “When I'm serious, I'm a very sincere person.”

Jimin laughs at his reaction, falling forward a bit.

The seven boys were having fun just chatting with army unaware about the tragedy that was about to unfold later that day.

Jjangu passed away..

Jin looked at his phone screen in disbelief, reading the text a second time, then a third just to be sure he was seeing it correctly. He could feel the hard lump forming in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears. His whole body tensed up, his heart sinking into his stomach. No..no.. he can't be gone..

“Jjangu..” The name comes out as a soft whimper, just hearing his name from his own lips causing tears to pool down his cheeks.

Jjangu was a maltese him and his family rescued and nursed back to health when he was still a young teenager. Jin buries his face in his hands, sobbing into them. I didn't even get a chance to say a proper goodbye.. Are my parents okay? Were my parents home when it happened?

Jin's heart shatters at the thought wondering if anyone was with him in his last moments or if he died alone, his knees going weak, legs collapsing from underneath him.

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Jimin rushes over when he sees Jin on the ground, face completely hidden by his knees that he pulled to his chest.

“Jim..jim..jiminie..” Jin picks up his head, tears streaming down his cheeks like waterfalls.

“Aiigo, hyung.. what's wrong? Why are you crying?” Jimin uses this thumbs to try to dry his tears, but new tears keep forming. I've never seen him this upset before.. he's hardly breathing..

Jin tries to speak to Jimin, to tell him the news of his beloved childhood pet, but he couldn't get a breath in. “J-J..J…” he stumbles over the letter, but his voice breaks into another sob, burying his face in Jimin's shirt. “Jjj..a..h.. hes..hg..g…ne..”

“Hyung..hyung you need to calm down.. I have no idea what you're saying. Please take a deep breath.. hyung you're hyperventilating..” Jimin tries to keep himself calm,his heart thumping hard in his chest to see Jin so broken up, unsure how to help him when he didn't even know why he was so upset.

Jimin continues to try to calm down but the tears wouldn't stop. “Hyung..Hyung please.. don't cry.. you're breaking my heart.. it's okay.. we can figure this out.."

Yoongi rushed over, sensing something was wrong, running to them when he noticed Jimin and Jin were on the floor, Jin clinging to Jimin for dear life, Jin's body being shaken by his coughing. Yoongi kneels on the other side of Jin. “Why? Why are you crying? What's wrong?” His voice is in full of concern, rubbing Jin's back in an attempt to help his coughing.

Jin sniffles, coughing on the deep breath he tries to take, Jimin running his hand up and down Jin's broad back. He tries to take another deep breath, forcing the words out.“My Jjangu..” Jin says in a high-pitched whimper.

“Oh Hyung.. I'm so sorry..” Jimin understood, hugging Jin closer to him. Jjangu was getting old, the Maltese not even able to see anymore. Something had to have happened. “I'm sorry.. Is he..?"

Jin nods, unable to say the words out loud.

This is such bad timing..I wish he found out later after the show so he had the privacy to grieve in peace..plus we have another song to perform..

Yoongi wanted to help, but all he could do was watch him bawling into Jimin's shoulder. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't do anything to change the fact Jjangu was gone.."I'll go get you some water, and once Namjoon is done with the interview, we can talk about what we'll do about Mic drop.” he quickly moves to get water, motioning to Namjoon when he walks near him.

Jin's stomach churned, closing his eyes tightly to try to stop the tears. That's right.. I still have another show to perform. I need to get a hold of myself.. this isn't the time..

Namjoon looks over to the other members, motioning Yoongi to take over the interview, bowing to the camera to wait a minute.

Yoongi nods, bringing the water to Jin. “Ah. Taehyungie.. help me..I don't know what to say..” he says shyly, not wanting to do it alone.

“Of course Hyung.” Taehyung pulls Yoongi to the steps to do the interview, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He felt more at ease with Taehyung, his random thoughts great for lightening up the heavy atmosphere.

Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook go over to Jin. “Jimin what happened?” Namjoon asks, sitting in front of Jin.

“Jjangu passed away..” Jimin tells the others, cursing himself for saying it so loudly when he feels Jin hold him tighter, whimpering softly adding salt to the open wound. “Ah, I'm sorry hyung.”

Jin shakes his head looking up at them and sniffling trying to stop the snot from dripping down his nose.“N-no..th..they..they needed t..to know..” his voice comes out nasally and weak.

“Poor hyung..that's awful..” Jungkook feels his the pull on his heart strings, making him feel like a guitar with the strings strung too tightly, about to burst with the simplest touch. I can't cry.. I need to be strong for hyungie, if we cry he'll only feel worse..

“Oh Hyung..I'm sorry.. I knew how special he is to you..” Hoseok frowns, thinking about his own beloved pet, pushing his own emotions down. “Will you be okay? Do you want to wait back stage when we go on?”

“No..I. i..don't w-want to let Ar-army down..” Jin wipes his face,sniffling. “I..i..can do it..it..it's not the..the same w..without seven..”

“But hyung..you're not even able to stop crying..” Namjoon frets over Jin, dabbing his sleeve on Jin's swollen eyes.

“I..I just need..a little time..” Jin sniffles, leaning into Namjoon's touch.

Jimin opens the water bottle for Jin. “Here, you need to at least drink a little..”

Jin let's Jimin help him drink, taking in a few mouthfuls of water before pushing it away, the water feeling like a Boulder weighing down his stomach, wiping away his tears again.

“I don't k-know if I can..can stop..” Jin says in a shaky breathless whisper.

Jimin notices the two Deagu boys were finished the camera looking for him and Jin to interview, quickly rushing over to buy a little more time for Jin.

Yoongi and Taehyung go back by Jin.

“Hyung.. hyung what if we skip rehearsal and just do a perfect shot the first time? Then we can leave and mourn together.”Namjoon offers, knowing full well every member would agree to this without talking it through.

“Just.. just one run through?” Jin asks hopefully, wanting to perform and get it over with.

“Yeah, we've practiced it so many times already, we can do it perfectly in one go. I promise. Don't you worry. We can do anything we set our minds to.” Hoseok promises, looking at the other members to back him up.

“For you, I'll do it perfect. I promise.” Taehyung holds out his pinkie with a sad smile, that fades quickly when Jin takes it with a shaky hand.

“Alright.. I'll do it..” Jin says, drying his eyes one last time, pushing his emotions deep into his stomach. They believe in me.. so I just have to trust them..

Everyone except Jin goes on stage, still trying to calm himself enough to go on stage in front of army. Jungkook says the first thing to come to mind.

“Fishermen.”

Hoseok plays along, pretending to reel in a fish.

Jin takes another deep breath, staff touching up his make up while he listens to the other members messing around on stage to cover for him. The medicine he took for his headache hasn't kicked in yet, but he knew they could only buy him so much time.

I can do this.. Taehyung performed when he got the news about his grandmother.. it wouldn't be fair to him if I sat on the sidelines.. especially since this isn't a tour, it's just one song..

Jin rubs his stomach, trying to ease the knots inside. He was happy to eat earlier, but now his meal felt heavy in his stomach.

“Are you okay Seokjin-sii?” Staff asks him.

“Yes. I'm fine..”Jin wanted to smile to reassure him, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He took another deep breath, trying to keep his emotions buried deep down, walking onto the stage.

As soon as Jin steps on stage the boys stop their small talk.

“Everyone Mic Drop are you ready?” Hoseok asks the crowd. “Let's start!”

The members quickly get into position, the music starting. Jin already felt like he was sweating underneath the stage lights, feeling dizzy. He tried to hydrate himself properly, but he ended up crying once more when he saw how stressed his members were because of him. When he tried to drink water again he couldn't get more than a few sips before it made him nauseous.

It's less than five minutes, I can do this.. everyone is trying their hardest to do this perfectly for me, I can't be the one to mess this up.

Jin could get the choreography down, but he couldn't get his facial expressions to change. I can hardly keep myself from crying..what am I going to do when my part comes? I can hardly keep my breath under control.

Jin takes a deep breath when he hears Jimin, singing his part right after. He could hear it in his voice that he was giving it his all. They're putting all their energy in this one shoot.. I won't be the one to mess it up..

Jin pushes through the song, biting back his emotions, but he knew when the camera zoomed in on him that his puffy bloodshot eyes would show.

I won't cry.. I won't cry..

He kept repeating in his mind until he heard the song end, hardly remembering to say goodbye to the crowd before getting off the stage, feeling all his emotions washing over him once more when he was away from the stage.. away from all the cameras.

I did it..

Jin rushed to the room they used to change, going to the corner of the room, pulling out his phone to look at the last picture his parents sent of his beloved Jjangu, his eyes blurring with tears.

“hyung..” Hoseok enters the room everyone except for Namjoon rushing to gather around Jin.“hyung it's okay.. it's okay you don't have to cry all alone..we're here..”

Jin reaches for the closest member, hugging Hoseok, burying his face into his shoulder. “Oh Hoba..he's gone…he's..he's gone..” he sniffles, his voice coming out higher than usual.

“I know hyung.. I know..” Hoseok kisses the top of his head. “My poor Hyungie.. I don't think I'd be able to do what you did if I got that news about Mickey..you did so good.. now just let us take care of you..”

“Hyung..hyung just remember..he's not suffering anymore now.. he can start a new life.. where he can see again and make new good memories.” Taehyung tries to comfort him, rubbing his hand on the back of Jin's neck.

Jin nods, unable to get any words out. His breath came out as little gasps, clenching Hoseok's shirt as another wave of nausea hit him,making him feel dizzy. He started coughing, trying to catch his breath.

“Hyung..Seokjin..Seokjinnie-hyung try to take deep breaths, if you get too worked up you'll throw up..” Yoongi warns him, gently sitting him up from burying his face.

Jin sniffles,coughing on the mucus that pooled in his throat, pointing to a waste bin. Jungkook quickly fetches it for him, putting it on the floor for Jin to spit in.

“are you okay? Are you going to be sick?” Jungkook asks with concern, his eyes widening.

“i..i..don't think so..my..my stomach hurts, but not..not like that..” Jin tries to communicate with his members to try to calm them, but it hurt to talk,a phlegm filled cough coming out in between words. It feels like someone's pressing on my throat, it's hard to breathe..

“Do you want some water?” Jimin asks, ready to jump to his feet.

Jin shakes his head.“Where's…where's Namjoon?”

“he had to deal with the cameras.. he should catch up soon..” Yoongi answers him. “don't worry..”

“I'm sorry..we didn't do a..a proper go..goodbye..” Jin says softly, more tears forming.

“that's not important. We talked with army plenty today. I'm sure they'll understand. All that matters is you..” Hoseok says sincerely, the others agreeing.

Namjoon enters the room, rushing over to Jin. “It's all taken care of. Once we get changed we're ready to go home.”

“could..could..I stay like..this a..a..l..lit..”

“Sure hyung. I'll stay as long as you need..” Yoongi says, holding Jin a little closer, staying like that until the tears finally stopped, the oldest member crying himself to sleep.

#bts jin #bts #bts boys #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts taehyung #bts jhope #bts namjoon #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts cry

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cursed-elo-images · 9 months

Text

Chapter 2: The Disco-Very

As the string trio were walking, with Hugh in the lead, the latter stopped.

“Guys, halt,” he said, spreading his arms out.

“What is it, Hughie?” Melvyn asked, curious.

“Yeah, what happened?” Mik added. Not saying anything, Hugh silently gestured to the two to get in front of him. All of their eyes locked on a specific object.

“Oh, Melvyn… look,” Mik said.

Like the other two, Melvyn’s sparkling sapphire blue eyes scanned the area, until they locked on an enormous, blue-colored, smooth, fresh, shiny airliner.

Melvyn gasped.

“OH WOW!!! IT’S A PLAAAAANE,” the clean-shaven cellist yelled. He jumped up and down for what seemed like 5 minutes. Mik and Hugh, peeling their shocked eyes away from the gorgeous aircraft, turned to look at Melvyn, startled.

“Errrrrm, how does he not get tired doing that?” Mik asked, ever so slightly uneasy. Hugh shook his head.

“Melvyn is just… Melvyn. You cannot question him. He transcends what we know about the universe and existence itself,” Hugh replied, matter-of-factly.

Melvyn turned around with his eyes wide and his mouth wide open curled into a smile.

“Because, Mik… it’s a plane! I love planes!!!” Melvyn replied, hyperactive.

“Uh… yeah… I can… see that you love planes… ahaha… ha…” Mik replied awkwardly.

“Not just planes!!! I LOVE SOARING!!!” Melvyn cried, throwing his hands in the air and looking up at the sky, his long feathery auburn hair flailing. Mik flinched and Hugh stood there silently staring at Melvyn.

Hugh cleared his throat.

“Um… okay then! Mel, your dream will come true!” Hugh replied, also awkwardly.

“REALLY?” Melvyn asked, grabbing Hugh’s hands.

“Hugh, what do you mean?” Mik asked, confused. Hugh walked up to the plane.

“Wait, where are you going?” Mik asked, even more confused.

“HEY WAIT FOR ME YOU JERK!” Melvyn howled, charging after Hugh like an angry wasp. He left a puff of air as he ran after the younger cellist, the cool blast from the force of Melvyn’s sprinting almost knocking Mik down.

“Guys, really. What are you two doing?” Mik asked, and he started jogging up to the two cellists.

“Oh, me? I’m going to fly the thing!” Hugh declared, flipping his long, shiny, glossy auburn hair out of his face. He stepped on the stairs of the airplane, with Melvyn behind him climbing them rapidly.

“What?” Mik asked, bewildered.

“Yes! You heard that right Mik! I, Hugh McDowell, am a qualified pilot!” Hugh declared pompously, standing in the plane. Melvyn turned around to face Hugh jaw-dropped.

“Are you sure? I don’t believe you. Prove it,” Mik spat, skeptical. He climbed up stairs to meet the other two.

Hugh stuck his hand in his dress shirt pocket and shifted it around in there and got out his pilot license and handed it to Mik.

“Yup, I ain’t lying,” the mustachioed pilot replied. Mik held the cold, plastic card in his hands and gazed at it.

“Huh… that’s cool,” he said, smiling.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!! YAAAAAAAY! THAT’S SO COOL!” Melvyn screamed, pulling his pilot friend close to him, giving him a tight hug. Hugh almost couldn’t breathe.

“Oomf— grk… M-Melvyn please put me down… Hugh muttered, scared, and fighting for his breath.

Startled from Melvyn’s sudden cry, Mik started leaning backwards and started flailing and yelled for one of the two cellists to help him.

“OH NO! MIK!!!” Melvyn cried. He threw Hugh off of him who landed on the floor of the plane and rushed over to Mik.

“NO! MY CARD!!!” Hugh wailed, struggling to get up. He rubbed the top of his head as it hurt. He couldn’t stand, so he just sat there.

Melvyn pulled Mik back up and saved his life.

“A-are you okay? I thought we were going to lose you!” Melvyn asked, out of breath, his voice wavering.

Melvyn looked scared, his eyes slightly watery, like he was going to break down in tears.

“Yup! I’m fine!” Mik said, smiling.

“Ah… I’m so glad…” Melvyn replied, and brought the short, brunette violinist into a friendly, comforting hug.

They pulled away from each other.

“And I still have Hugh’s card!” Mik exclaimed happily, showing the both of them the card. Melvyn squealed in delight, no longer on the verge of crying.

“Yay! My card is fine! And I’m also glad you’re alright too, Mik,” Hugh said, sighing in a relieved manner. Mik smiled at him.

“Can you please… give it to me please?” Hugh asked, visibly uncomfortable from being flinged onto the floor by Melvyn. Mik gave him the card back and Hugh put it back in his shirt pocket.

“Are you okay there Hugh?” Mik asked him.

“Yeah I’m—I'm fine… it’s just that— ah… my head hurts… my whole body hurts actually…” the tall cellist responded, grimacing in pain.

“I’ll help you up,” Mik said, grabbing Hugh’s hands and he pulled him up.

“Ahhh thank you Mik— AAAAH!” Hugh cried, standing still.

Melvyn whipped his head around.

“Hugh? Why did you scream?” Melvyn asked, clueless. Mik felt the same way to be honest.

“My feet… have muscle strain… maybe I shouldn’t wear these platform heels all the time,” Hugh complained.

“Maybe it’s best you don’t move so much,” Mik interjected, concerned. Hugh shrugged.

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” he said. Mik sighed and didn’t say anything.

“I’m really, really sorry, Hughie. I didn’t mean to hurt you—it was just that… I was really, very excited and I just… I don’t know what got into me!” Melvyn exclaimed, feeling guilty. He put his face in his hands and sat there in one of the passenger seats, sniffling and whimpering.

Sighing, Hugh walked over to the distraught man and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay Melvyn… I know you wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt me in any way. But I have to admit, I didn’t expect someone with a small and lean build like you to be… so strong..” Hugh said softly, giggling a bit. Melvyn looked up, his face wet.

“Haha yeah,” came the reply. He wiped his face as he didn’t want Hugh to see him cry.

“Come on, let’s go explore the plane! Mik can come to if he wants,” Hugh said, trying to cheer him up.

Melvyn shot up into the air like a rocket!

“YEEES!!!” he cried.

And so the three string players walked along the inside of the plane.

“Hey, it smells really good in here. It smells like…” Mik said, trying to think of the scent.

“Cookies???” Melvyn asked.

“No… it’s more like… I don’t know…” Mik muttered, scrunching his eyebrows and snapping, trying to stimulate his brain.

“It smells like cake to me…” Hugh blurted.

“Yeah! Cake! That’s what I was trying to think of!” Mik explained, his eyes lighting up and his mouth morphed into a satisfied smile.

Melvyn inhaled aggressively.

“Mm… it smells very good! We must find the source of this delicious scent!” He cried triumphantly.

“Yeah he’s right, I wonder where this scent is coming from…” Hugh asked, scratching his hairless chin.

“Maybe someone made a cake in here?” Melvyn asked eagerly. The other two looked at him.

“Yeah no, I highly doubt it,” Hugh replied. Melvyn pouted.

“Maybe someone ate a cake in here?”

“Melvyn I don’t think someone could fit an entire cake in one seat. Besides, I don’t think they’d be allowed to,” said Mik.

“Perhaps we could walk all the way to the end of the plane and find out if they have an air freshener somewhere, no?” Hugh asked, gesturing to the end of the plane on the inside.

“Good idea,” Mik said.

And so the string trio walked all the way down to a plane and noticed that at every four sets of seats, there were air fresheners.

“Woah, those are air fresheners? Why didn’t I notice that before?” Hugh asked.

“I don’t know,” Mik replied.

“Hm, oh well~” Hugh said.

Melvyn giggled.

“What’s so funny, Mel?” Hugh asked.

“Hehe it says ‘Beverley’s Aromas’,” Melvyn replied, referring to the brand name.

“What?” Hugh asked. He pulled out his phone and googled the name.

“Founded in 1910, by a woman with the name of Beverley Rhodes, this brand has changed the lives of many by making the inside of their homes smell good. From bakery sweet scents to more fruity scents, she has made quite the living for herself. People around the world have said that their lives changed for the better after spicing up their homes with her air fresheners, and they will continue to,” Hugh recited.

“Well, that sounds nice,” Mik said.

“Oh? That is quite nice indeed—it is funny now she shares the same name as Bev, as I almost thought it was Bev himself that came up with the product!” Melvyn replied, chuckling. The other two broke out in laughter.

“We do have to tell Bev when we get home,” Hugh declared.

“So are you going to fly the plane or not?” Mik asked, slightly impatiently.

“Oh! Why yes—silly me, I forgot all about that!” Hugh responded.

The string trio headed back to the start of the plane, and they were pretty tired from all that walking.

“Whew! That was a workout,” Melvyn claimed.

“It sure was— and you’re right Hugh, there are air fresheners all over this place,” Mik said.

“Hahaha ‘Beverley’s Aromas’,” Melvyn parroted, finding the brand name quite funny.

“Haha yeah and it was funny that we didn’t notice them,” Hugh said, climbing into the cockpit. Melvyn sat right behind Hugh while Mik sat in the seat across from Melvyn on the other side, and fastened their seatbelts.

Hugh got the plane started and the plane started to move forward.

“This is so exciting!” Melvyn cried cheerfully.

“I guess you could call it a discovery!” Mik added.

“Yes!” Melvyn shouted, “more like: a disco-very! Hugh, to celebrate, pop in our Discovery album into the CD player!”

“Right on it!” Hugh cried as he reached into his right pink pant pocket and dug out Discovery and put it in the CD player. Shine A Little Love, the first song on the track, played as the string trio took off and lifted into the sky.

#pilot hugh & co.#electric light orchestra #crackfic #hugh mcdowell #melvyn Gale #mik kaminski #fanfiction

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bontenten · 3 years

Text

Bewitch

Pairings: Osamu x F!Reader x Atsumu; Miyacest WC: 7.4k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairytale retelling (Hansel and Gretel), magic au, dubcon/noncon, incest (miyacest), fear, knife, monster, bondage, snuff, vore, gore/blood, object insertion, body horror, a bit of size, tummy bulge, oral (m.receiving), anal (m. receiving), masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, arson...

Summary: The unexpected guests at your cottage have a mysterious past and hidden agenda. Will they allow you to accompany them on their journey?

Travelers are advised not to spend the night in the Dark Woods. It's said that beyond the last hiking trail, past a brook, lives an Evil Witch. That witch is vile and merciless; often, fools lost in the woods are never seen again. It's said that she must be over 800 years old, feeding off of the essences of children and young men unfortunate enough to cross her paths. It’s said that she even eats fellow witches. No one really knows. After all, no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It's been a few months since your teacher has left you to fend for yourself here in the woods—your first time alone during this apprenticeship. She said she had to attend a big conference with a whole bunch of other grand witches. You asked if you could tag along, but she insisted that you stay and watch the cottage. The lack of company is about to drive you insane so you often resort to conversing with yourself or the forest itself.

The soft moss muffles the sound of your footsteps as you begin the trek back home, a faint off-trail path away from the main road that no one else would usually notice. On any other day, you would just go home without a fuss, but loneliness makes people do some bizarre and odd things. For instance, the desperate longing for companionship leads to you dropping a not-so-hidden trail of fancy pebbles to inadvertently lead someone to your abode.

For most travelers, going off-trail is akin to a death sentence as any wrong turn might lure them into the forest's deadly maze. Not for you though, you know this place very well: every fallen tree, overturned log, the wanted signs nailed to the trunk...

Wait. A wanted sign?

You can make out from your distance that there are two heads on it, but the details are fuzzy, and the bounty looks smudged. Before you can get a closer look, you hear the birds caw in the trees, signaling the beginning of sunset. You pull your attention away from the poster and continue on to your way home.

The cottage is extremely cozy and warm. The windows are bejeweled and the door is solid wood. You live here comfortably with your teacher, after all, learning about the principles of magic and what it means to be a witch. It's much more than curses and spells, as your teacher would tell you, witches have character and a moral compass. Although there are certainly those who decide to experiment with the darker arts.

While you get a fire going in the huge furnace and boil some water on the stovetop, you hear two voices squabbling outside followed by three raps on the door. You're stunned by the noise, turning to face the shut door wondering if you were just dreaming about the noise. Is it? Visitors? No, you must have heard wrong.

"'Samu, I bet it's a farce, let's not." The voice sounds both tired and weary, almost out of breath.

"Let me just try again, I can smell a working kitchen in there, someone is definitely there," another voice insists. Three more knocking sounds. "Excuse me! Is the owner of the house available? My brother and I followed a path of colored stone and came upon your establishment...could you spare us some water? A bite of food?"

Two men, though they sound friendly. You're frozen in the kitchen, staring at the door that remains between you and the strangers.

"Is there someone home?" The second voice tries again. "Please, my brother is not feeling very well."

Your initial wariness for the stranger melts when you hear about the brother, which does not sound like a lie based on the raspy voice you first hear. A witch's character is fundamentally kind to all sentient beings, especially those in need. But you're still nervous, so you end up grabbing a metal ladle before carefully going to open the door. When you crack the door open, you see a pair of twins. Beautiful men, one blonde and one grey-haired. The former, with a quirky grin, although his eyes certainly look lackluster. But the other seems like he's at the right place, eyes peering past you into your home, fixated on your kitchen.

"I'm Osamu. And this," he gestures to his twin, "is my brother Atsumu. We're a bit lost, you see."

You nod your head in a casual greeting and introduce yourself as the resident apprentice at this cottage. As a good host should, you open the door to the weary guests preparing to welcome them in.

"Are we welcomed in?" Osamu asks, not moving from his spot. Atsumu isn’t budging either, arms crossed and only looking at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your answer.

Without giving much thought you nod and open the door wider. "Both of you are most welcomed in."

"Then we thank you for your hospitality," Osamu says, taking a step inside, dragging his twin with him.

Words, especially spoken words carry power and hold intent. And a witch's words, no matter how careless they slip out, contain magic. Welcome, as you say. So welcome, they are.

You shut the door behind them and prepare to go give your first-ever guests some water. When you turn around, you notice Osamu already in the kitchen, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up past his elbows.

"Your food is about to burn. Heat's too high," he tells you, expertly taking control of the sizzling pots and pans. "I got it, don't worry."

Feeling flustered at the faint smell of scorching food, you hurry over to see if you can be of any assistance. "Let me help out."

"No, it's quite alright."

How can a host let her guests do all the work like that? And the first company in a while too! What an utter failure.

"How—" you try to argue back, but you're cut off by Atsumu tugging on your wrist, dragging you over to the sofa in the corner.

"Don't worry about him, he loves to cook." Atsumu brushes out the wisps of his bangs with a huff. "And actually quite good at it. Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design."

Like his twin, Atsumu's frame is broad and huge, but there is a quality of emptiness of sorts. Osamu's shoulders are wide but there's more substance to it, whereas Atsumu's form seems contained. You can't help but use your learnings to see if you can figure out just what's off about Atsumu. He's slowly walking around the living room and studying the portraits hanging on the wall. He picks up a frame that is set above the fireplace and comments, "None of these are you. How come?"

"Oh, they're my teacher. I'm just a witch-in-training at the moment, so—"

"A witch?" Atsumu questions, clenching the frame tightly. His hands begin to shake, the glass under his thumb beginning to crack.

You did not expect Atsumu to display such a visceral reaction upon the mention of witches. After all, witches normally stayed far away from ordinary human society and when they do mix, it's often a role of healing. But the look that sparks in Atsumu's eyes, it's almost—feral.

"'Tsumu!" Osamu yells while stalking over quickly from the kitchen. He throws his arm around Atsumu's neck and drags him off into the shadows. You can't make out the muffled voices and deep growling noises that are coming from down the hall.

It's their private matter, so you go back to the kitchen. True enough, Osamu's hands are almost like magic. The bubbling pot of broth doesn't seem to be on the verge of overflowing, the onions caramelizing beautifully, filling the air with deliciousness.

Moments later, the twins come back. You notice that Osamu clothes are wrinkled from tugging Atsumu around, but at the very least, Atsumu is looking much better than before.

The three of you set the table for dinner. Osamu brings out the plates as though he knows the kitchen inside and out already. Atsumu comes emerging from the cellar with two bottles of fine wine that you didn't even know your teacher had stowed away. Surely, she wouldn't mind? With Osamu and Atsumu sitting to the left and right of you at the round table, it almost feels like a more familiar, cozier gathering between friends than a situation of a host and her guests.

They tell you that they have been traveling across the lands for a long time now, looking for a cure for Atsumu's illness. It reminds you of the hollow, repressed form you saw earlier and your curiosity gets the better of you. They don't tell you the nature of the malady, but what they do share is that they are looking for a witch to undo the curse on Atsumu, a result of dark witchcraft.

"I am a witch!" you exclaim, feeling your call to action at the moment. "Please, is there truly nothing for me to help to undo the spell?"

Osamu leans in close to you, and wipes a bit of sauce staining the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb. He smiles. "We're looking for a very high-level witch. One day, maybe you'll get to the level of magic needed."

"You're too weak," Atsumu bluntly points out. You're sure Osamu means to say the same thing, but Atsumu's words are really sharp.

"I know," you sigh. "My teacher tells me that all the time. So, I'm really trying. I'm sure there's at least something I can do."

"I definitely think that. Don't be so hard on yourself," Osamu comforts. "Have you been living alone here for a long time?"

You feel two pairs of eyes glued onto you waiting for your answer. You smile reflexively before your eyes trail to the empty plate and carefully choose your words. "Yea. Just me and my teacher. She's a grand witch...maybe if you wait here for a few days, you can meet her when she comes back from her conference."

"We—"

"We'll be gone tomorrow!" Atsumu snaps, staring into Osamu's eyes.

Osamu doesn't pay any mind to Atsumu, and puts an extra piece of dessert onto your plate.

"We have a long way to go. Atsumu's condition isn't getting better, so we can't stop in one place for long."

It makes you a little sad, because you were hoping to spend some more time with the twins, both of whom you have grown fond of. Osamu and his gentleness. And even Atsumu, despite his quick remarks and outbursts, adds a particular spice to your mundane life.

"Maybe we'll bring you with us," Osamu comments lightly, "'Tsumu, wouldn't that be nice?"

"She'll just be dead weight," Atsumu retorts. You wonder if he absolutely hates you. Is that why he is always so against you being next to Osamu?

Osamu puts an arm around you and blows on the shell of your ear. It tickles and you can feel his body enveloping you. "But she's so sweet," he tells Atsumu and whispers into your ear, "Aren't you?"

You find your wandering gaze looking into his half-lidded grey eyes. His face is right next to you, lips just hovering barely five centimeters away. The overwhelming presence of him is undeniably alluring. Your breaths become shallow as your heart rate speeds up with desire.

"I'm exhausted! 'Samu you too. We're going to bed!" Atsumu drops the silverware onto his plate and stands up. He comes around the table, muttering curses under his breath. Atsumu grabs Osamu by the wrist and drags him off towards the guest bedroom you have shown them before.

You didn't quite catch Atsumu's angry mutters, but you hear "slut" and "harlot" thrown around a few times. Were they directed at you? No, you're not like that, you tell yourself. Atsumu must have been thinking that you are trying to seduce his twin. After you clear out the table, you decide to clear up any misunderstanding.

You tip-toe down the hall to the guest bedroom prepared to knock when you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. You carefully press your ears to the crevice of the door and clamp a hand around your mouth upon hearing the stream of moans.

"'Samu, 'Samu please, ah—"

That's Atsumu? Your eyes are wide and still trying to process the shock of what you're hearing. You tell yourself you shouldn't be here. You should not be listening to whatever is happening behind the closed door, but you can't help it. Hearing Atsumu's moans makes you want to squirm.

You slightly jump when you hear a slap, followed with a pleasured groan. The sound is so clean it feels as though the phantom hands are touching your own heated skin.

Osamu's chuckle nearly makes your knees weak.

"Don't get cocky, if it were any other day ngh—, any other day, I would be the one pushing you into the mattress."

Slap. "Shut up, cute 'Tsumu. I like you being so needy for me like this. What do you want from me? Tell me."

"Fuck me, 'Samu."

"With pleasure."

The wood creaks loudly and you tell yourself, you really need to get out as you back away and try to quickly walk down the hall back to your bedroom.

You throw the door open and lock the door behind you with a click. With your eyes closed, you try to steady your breath and the building heat in your core. It's quiet. There's no noise coming from their room. But they are twins!

You remind yourself that a witch is all-accepting and kind. There are so many circumstances beyond your understanding, judgement is not a part of your nature. And if what they are performing is wrong, what should you say about yourself? You peel off your clothes and step out of the soaked panty that is proof of your lust.

Pillows are fluffed and covers are pulled over your body. You try to sleep, but each time you are about to drift, Atsumu's cries of pleasure come back into your head. Your hand trails down your navel until the fingertips trace over your clit. Gathering some slick from your cunt, you drag it across the sensitive bud.

You shudder from the touch as images, constructed in your fantasy, cloud your mind. You imagine Atsumu's hands spreading your legs apart and Osamu's teasing words next to your ear. He would tell you to open wide and shove his cock down your throat. You suck on three of your fingers until lips wrap over the knuckles, your saliva pooling from hunger. And slip your fingers into your cunt easily, curling them against the plush walls.

"F-fuck me," you moan into your pillow.

With pleasure.

You quiver, clit pulsating, and your pussy juice dripping into your palm. The wash from the high soon takes you into sleep. All throughout the night, you squirm and feel the phantom sensation of being watched. Not just observed, but studied, by two pairs of glinting hungry eyes. You can almost imagine them on either side of the bed, trapping you into the mattress no matter which way you turn.

A few times the weird feelings almost pull you awake, but you don't dare crack an eye open to confirm your suspicions until the morning light begins to filter through the windows, rousing you from sleep. The air is filled with fragrant herbs and the sizzle of delicious brunch from someone awake before you.

No doubt, it's Osamu, because who else can it be? Atsumu? Please. The twins....

You climb out of bed and stretch your neck on the way to the washroom. Your bedroom door is open, but it's too early to notice that detail.

"Morning!" Osamu greets you from the kitchen. You find a fresh mug of coffee shoved into your hands from him.

You mumble thanks and sip at the brew while watching Osamu fry the eggs. Osamu looks to be deep in thought, probably thinking about something pleasant from the faint smile ghosting on his face. You feel a pang of guilt from both listening to their private lives, and also the strange feelings that maybe they heard your private life too—it's all your paranoia talking.

"You're so talented," you blurt out, fisting the fabric of your long skirt.

"Thanks, but better not let 'Tsumu hear ya, he gets jealous super easily."

Even if Atsumu hears, it's fine. You really mean both of them. Both of the twins both seem super talented as a duo; like they've been out there and seen the world. Meanwhile, you're still stuck here, without company. Would it be possible...if they simply stayed?

Osamu senses the words that are stuck in your mouth and answers them for you. "We're gonna be leaving right after breakfast. There's still lots of ground to cover today," he explains, plating the pancake before preparing to ladle a spoonful of batter for the next one.

"Do you have to leave?" you ask, almost pleading.

"It's cozy here and comfortable. We enjoy your company too, but we have to go. Your teacher would hate us, immensely, and on top of that...let's just say, we're always on the run."

"You say it like you two are fugitives or something."

Osamu chuckles and leans closer to you, hot breath flaming your cheeks, or maybe it's just the heat from the stove. A teasing grin pulls his cheeks up slightly as your eyes flicker over to see his lips spell out, "Maybe. Scared?"

Embarrassed, you take a defensive step back, squeaking and bumping into another body.

"MORNING!" Atsumu announces behind you. He's in good spirits and he has his hands on your waist to steady you; he sniffs your hair and smiles before letting you go. "I smell something delicious."

"Breakfast is ready," Osamu says, plating the pancakes. "Hungry 'Tsumu?"

"Tch." Atsumu shoves past you and knees Osamu, mood doing a complete 180. You're almost left like a fly on the wall as you watch the scene unfold.

Osamu is quick to catch his balance while keeping watch on the stove. "Not awake yet?" Osamu grins and passes him a plate of pancakes, essentially telling him to shut up and eat. "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Go eat."

"Fuck you."

"Hm."

Atsumu grumbles but digs into his food anyway. Osamu catches your amused expression in the corner and explains, "It's always like that between us. It's our...way of showing how much we care."

"I know." It's sort of endearing, the banter between the two brothers. Even if the world turns against them, no matter what the odds are, at least Miya Osamu will have Miya Atsumu, and Atsumu will have Osamu. Perhaps it's exactly that sort of bond the two share that you're envious of. Body and soul. Because if only you could have just an ounce of that sort of familiarity with another. But you're just an outsider without an invitation to join in.

While you're mulling over your thoughts, you don't catch the darkening gazes being exchanged between the twins. At some point, Atsmu's plate is already emptied and the wooden table is cleared while you're still lost in your mind. Osamu is fiddling with the metal tea strainer, bobbing it up and down to brew a mug of tea. He threads a cotton string in and out like it's a plaything.

"Do you really want to be with us?" Osamu asks nonchalantly. "'Tsumu and I were talking about it. If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"I just..." You feel like this is your final chance to tell them that you don't want them to go. None of the going around circle hinting that you have been doing. This is the moment to just tell it to them. If you miss this chance, you feel like you won't have another. And even though a pit pulls at your inwards telling you to reconsider, you're brave. "I just want to be together with you all, and help you cure Atsumu. My teacher is so talented, I'm sure she'll have a remedy."

They grin.

Osamu is a great cook, he can do that. Atsumu sometimes seems lazy, but he's super strong and quick to help too. And you can pick up all sorts of other tasks in the area! Maybe because they're so helpful, your teacher will even let them stay once Atsumu is cured. Maybe they can learn magic too! You have heard of warlocks who are powerful with spells too. And you can already imagine, the three of you, like a team, eventually going out into the world to fight demons and monsters and—

"Open wide," a sultry voice sounds next to you. Backing away automatically, you find Atsumu standing right behind you.

"W-wait," your voice shakes, stuck in your throat. "What are—"

His fingers reach for your mouth, prying it open. Before you can voice your distaste, a warm, metal ball gets shoved into your mouth, the thin chain quickly tangles into your hair. The faint traces of tea seep out of its small holes down your tongue and throat, while some spill out the corner of your mouth like trails of drool down your jawline.

Osamu smiles and wipes the liquid away with his thumb, relishing in how your widening eyes gape at him in confusion.

"Being together," he answers the question you wanted to ask, "is what you want isn't it?" He takes a spool of kitchen twine and begins to secure the tea strainer in your mouth. The thin cotton threads wrap around your head over and over again, tightening the steel against your tongue.

You shake your head and try to take another step away from the man you're beginning to become wary of, but the strong grip of Atsumu's hands on your shoulder prevents you from squirming at all. His fingers dig into your flesh, and when you turn to look at him you catch a glint in his eyes, glowering down at you.

"No, no, no, behave," he taunts you, "listen to 'Samu. He'll make you feel real good, trust me."

With the gag in your mouth, all you can let out are weak, warbling gargles from the back of your throat. Why are you doing this? You weren't like this before? Loud snorts flare out your nostrils from the fear screaming through your body.

Osamu comes back with a paring knife, examining the edge under the sunlight filtering in through the stained glass. He presses the cool blade along your cheek, dragging with the dull edge just enough so the sharp end doesn't cut your skin. You feel your knees growing weak and if not for Atsumu's hold on you, you would sink into a shuddering heap on the floor.

"You know, I think you might be the best meal yet," Osamu compliments, blade trailing down to your collarbone. The tip of the knife toys with the first button, pressing tension on the x-cross stitching. Snap. The first button pops off, dropping onto the wooden floor and rolling away to an inconspicuous corner. "I'll prep you well."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The knife flicks again and all the buttons clatter on the floor before running away for refuge.

Atsumu has cleared the table already and you find yourself hoisted up and laid onto the surface like a slab of meat on a cutting board. The cold surface presses against the back of your shoulder and ass. Osamu ties your wrist together with a hemp rope and secures the other end around the table leg. He also secures your ankles to two other anchor points.

You're utterly exposed and ashamed at your body's display, mortified at how your body is reacting when you catch sight of Atsumu, his eyes dilated, looking at your slit that you know is drenched already. The rough texture of the rope presses painfully into your skin from how tight the bindings are. You can only let out gagged whines in complaint, chest rising up and down from the loud breaths.

"Can't do, love," Osamu chides, kissing the knot at your wrist, satisfied with the results. His fingertips trail down to cup your jaw and his thumb runs across the tea strainer. You close your eyes and groan at his touch. Osamu murmurs, "I won't let anything go to waste."

Atsumu is growing impatient at the sight of his twin treating you like the finest specimen ever. You're not the first one. You won't be the last one, but he still can't stand the sight of someone looking just like himself having first tastes while he's missing out himself. He wants to shove Osamu aside, but he knows that Osamu absolutely hates it when he ravages the meal when it's not ready.

Atsumu unzips his pants and lets his hardened, leaking cock spring free. You stare at Atsumu who is fixated on his own pleasure. His hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length up and down.

Osamu turns your head to look at himself instead. "Someone there is impatient, but let's not learn from him, okay? I want to take you slow, make sure you'll be ready. I don't want you stressed, you release too much cortisol and that toughens the meat."

Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design.

His hand kneads your breast and toys with your nipple, circling and tugging on the tiny, erect bud.

"Relax," he whispers into your ear. "Just like you did last night."

You try to clamp your thighs shut from reflex. Immediately the resistance from the rope ties stop your movements. Osamu squeezes your thighs and pushes them apart once more.

"Right here isn't it, after hearing me fuck 'Tsumu..." Osamu's finger runs down the sides of your labia. "You just couldn't help touching yourself too huh?"

He knows. They know. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization.

"There's nothing embarrassing about it. If anyone should be, it should be us twins, " Osamu's fingers easily slip in, your pussy already dripping with arousal. "Oh woops, I shouldn't need to comfort you. You're clearly not shy."

Osamu's fingers are thick and long, able to reach far deeper than you ever can. Your tongue is still struggling against the gag while your saliva steeps the tea leaves trapped in the ball.

"Oi," Atsumu cuts in with annoyance. "I thought you said to not play with food. What the fuck are you doing, chef?"

Osamu stops his finger in you for a moment before dragging them out. You're trembling at the sudden emptiness and desire to fill the space immediately. The lack of stimulation is irritating and you are desperate.

Osamu walks up to Atsumu, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your slick to his lips for a taste. Before he can do so, Atsumu grabs Osamu's wrist and takes in those digits, sucking on them gingerly.

Osamu smiles and runs the other hand through Atsumu's hair.

"Patience is a virtue, 'Tsumu, I was just getting her fully prepared for you. I'm giving her all to you already, you couldn't even let me have a taste of her?"

Atsumu releases Osamu's fingers with a pop. "I never said I wasn't going to share," he mutters before pulling Osamu in for a kiss, passing the taste of you along their tongues.

Your body jostles as you finally get a visual matching what you heard last night. You feel your pussy leaking with more excitement, the arousal drips all the way down to your asshole. And the more you squirm, it's as though the rope ties become tighter and tighter, rubbing your skin raw. But even that pain is incomparable to the need to quell your fire.

Atsumu pulls away and presses one last kiss on Osamu's nose. "I always love what you serve, thank you 'Samu." Your heart rate rapidly speeds up as Atsumu comes towards you. He's positioned between your legs, both hands on your thighs, marveling at the display of your body. His hands feel hot.

Atsumu grins. "You probably didn't expect me to be the one taking you, huh?" He guides his cock to your entrance, the bulging tip prodding along your puffy lips. "Did you want Osamu to be the one fucking you?"

No? You want to argue, straining your head up slightly, but only tea-laced saliva drips out from the corners of your mouth.

"'Fuck me, 'Samu. Fuck me, please.' Is that what you heard? Is that what you wanted to say too?"

Your screams are muffled whimpers.

Osamu snorts off to the side, watching Atsumu do exactly what he accused Osamu earlier of: playing with his food. Hypocrite.

Atsumu glares at Osamu before turning his attention back to you. "You'll be begging for me, Atsumu, after I'm done with you."

He lines himself at your entrance and inches himself in, groaning at how your cunt is somehow just sucking him in. You're so warm and tight inside, wrapping perfectly around every part of him. He sits in you for a moment, just enjoying being blanketed by your muscles and chuckling how you tighten around him every now and then.

You whine, urging Atsumu to move a little.

"Okay, okay. Geez, and 'Samu says I'm impatient." Atsumu slowly draws his cock out and snaps his hips forward, the base of his balls slapping against your ass. He delights at how you squeeze your eyes shut and continues rocking into you at a comfortable pace.

Osamu enjoys standing off to the side for a while. He always liked watching Atsumu savor and delight the food he prepares. Atsumu always eats with such gusto. It should have always been that way, until the witch ruined everything. The curse, an experiment with the dark arts, should have never happened. Above all else, it should never have been on Atsumu. Osamu can only wonder if the reason they are subjected to this fate is because they are twins. Until a cure is found, Atsumu, his most beloved other, will have to replenish himself in this way.

A sharp pain rips through you and tears well up in your eyes. You feel Atsumu's cock suddenly begin to pulsate and grow in size. At first, you thought it was because you're clamping down on him too hard and will yourself to relax. But the cock, the thing, is certainly unnatural now. And between your tear-stained vision, you can just barely make out... Monster.

You begin to thrash wildly, head tossing side to side, back arched as much as you can in a futile escape attempt. Atsumu's claws rest on your hips while he pounds into you furiously. His groans, now deep growls, send vibrations that you can feel within your throbbing clit. You fear that you'll actually be ripped in half by the way Atsumu is thrusting into you. The engorged cockhead hits your cervix each time and his ball sack, even heavier, bowls and knocks against you.

Osamu unfolds his arms and comes over.

"It'll only hurt if you don't relax," he tells you, reaching out to press on your clit. "Just let him have his way."

"Go fuck her somewhere else," Atsumu snarls. His voice is warped and bellowing. Your mind is getting foggy as Osamu's fingers on your clit don't stop teasing the bud while having a petty talk with Atsumu. And Atsumu, ticked off by Osamu, picks up his speed.

"There we go, now that's beautiful," Osamu comments, taking his hand away and watching you unfurl in your pleasure. Your abused cunt is puffy when Atsumu pulls out, and you feel the thick liquid start to flow out when you take breaths.

"No, don't do that," Osamu chides, taking three fingers to gather the cum spilling out and stuffing it back in. "Better keep it all in. 'Tsumu isn't done with you yet."

Not yet? You can't even voice your thoughts except weakly shaking your head and moaning into the steel gag. In the moment, your stomach rumbles loudly.

"'Samu, she's hungry," Atsumu points out, rubbing your tummy. "You feed her and I'll stuff her."

Osamu ruffles Atsumu's long hair and gives his new, erected horns a teasing squeeze. Atsumu yelps at the touch. "'Samu!"

"Okay, okay," Osamu relents and stands next to your head. You see him take the paring knife again and slide the icy blade between the cotton ties and your hot cheek. A quick slice and you feel the pressure of the gag release. Osamu removes the tea strainer from your mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Must have been so over-brewed, I apologize for that," he says. You know he doesn't mean it at all.

"Why?" you croak out. Your jaw and cheeks are sore from being held in position for so long. There's so many things you believe you can ask why about. Why they are prepping you like a meal, fucking you like a toy...Why Atsumu is the way he is. Why Osamu is not who you think he is either. Why you.

Despite Atsumu's grotesque figure, you're sure that you fear this twin more. Osamu's thoughts are so well-hidden behind his eyes; he never gives away what he's thinking or planning. You can only accept his decisions from the receiving end.

"Because of Atsumu," Osamu answers. Everything is for 'Tsumu. "I'll feed you."

Osamu cradles your head with both hands, his fingers tangled in your hair. He prods his cock against your lips. Feeling your resistance, he grips your hair tightly, painfully pulling on your scalp, and presses the tip of his cock to force your lips open. You nearly gag at the length entering your throat and your hands ball into tight fists. Your nose is buried in the base of his cock, pressing into his balls. Each breath you take is heavy with his musky, hot scent.

It's easy to focus on Osamu's cock fucking into your throat, leaving an unamused, monstrous twin off to the side preparing to turn your attention back to him by force.

Atsumu rubs himself against you, preparing to enter you again. You're sure that he has become even bigger. When the tip pushes through, your body attempts to fight the intrusion in self-preservation. The claws at your hips dig in and Atsumu all but pulls you onto his length like a sock. You scream around Osamu's cock, throat clenching around his thick length, and nearly black out from the stretch.

You never had anything this big in you before. Atsumu lifts you up slightly, his grasp becoming large enough to encircle around your whole waist. Your ankles are still tethered and tug on you, much to Atsumu's annoyance. He easily slices through the bondages with a sharp claw. Now free of restraints, Atsumu can cradle you more easily, finally pushing the last section into you.

Crack!

You can’t cry while you're stuffed with Osamu’s cock, but tears stream endlessly from your eyes. You’re sure your pelvic floor is broken, completely forced apart in a futile attempt to accommodate Atsumu stuffing you beyond your physical capacity. Your hips give out as your two legs, bone out from their sockets, dangle grotesquely.

“Just focus on me,” Osamu wipes your tears away and continues to pump into you. But you cannot focus on the human object in your mouth when your whole lower half and inwards are broken, stretched or squashed.

"Hey look ‘Samu! It's bulging," Atsumu marvels at the imprint of his tip pushing your flesh out from the inside. “Look, my cock is saying ‘hello’.”

Atsumu excitement translates into messy thrusts, treating your body like a game. “Maybe I can even touch your dick through her!”

Your whole body is numb, the brain shuts its pain signals off completely, and hormones pour through your bloodstream in overdrive. The broken climax spasms through your body like the last bits of a faltering system.

“Better hurry...she’s...she’s fading soon,” Osamu warns between his grunts. He clasps your head and spurts his seed into you. You mindlessly swallow every drop of him, letting the contents slowly flow down your throat. You can’t process anything nor recognize any of the murky images. Who are you? Where are you?

Your memory fades in and out as your eyesight drifts between black and white. You can’t do anything about how the monster is now on all fours over your body, unrecognizable as Atsumu. You don’t feel any fear towards this grotesque figure. You don’t register how his tongue licks your neck.

Your mouth is now empty but you can’t formulate syllables.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Osamu whisper before sharp fangs pierce into your jugular, digging in deeper and tearing a chunk out. Red sprays across your body in fast spurts, drenching Atsumu and covering Osamu. The teeth at your throat gnaw at the flesh, starved, tearing through the skin, fat, and tissues like a child crunching fruit.

You can feel the droplets falling onto your face like fresh rain after a storm. You vaguely remember your teacher and her warning of strangers. She always reprimanded you and you wanted to make her proud. There will no longer be any chance of that now. You weren’t a good student, and only an utter failure.

Osamu waits for Atsumu to finish you off. Atsumu always gets messy at this point. Osamu tried to help Atsumu section his prey off by cutting and organizing the limbs and even attempted to debone the meal beforehand, but Atsumu has his preferences, and Osamu respects them. So, Osamu delegates cleaning duties to himself instead.

You’re already beyond recognition when Osamu comes back with barrels of oil. All that is left is a kitchen stained with blood and a pile of bone with chewed connective tissue left. Atsumu sometimes eats the bones too, but not always.

“‘Tsumu, are you full now?” Osamu asks, reaching out to cradle his twin. Atsumu has now transformed back to the way he is supposed to be. Osamu threads his hand through Atsumu’s blonde hair and inhales his twin’s scent.

Atsumu doesn’t respond and tugs at Osamu’s collar, trailing down his arm to bring Osamu’s hand to his own cock.

Osamu grins and kisses the top of Atsumu’s head. “Do you want to fuck me ‘Tsumu? I know you like to, after your meals.”

Atsumu whines and nips at Osamu’s jaw, pushing the twin down on the blood-stained floor.

“Okay, okay.” Osamu unzips and pulls down his pants before crawling onto all fours.

Atsumu’s hand cups Osamu’s ass and pries the cheeks open before curiously fingering at the specimen plugging Osamu’s hole. Atsumu holds onto the base and turns the object, before laughing.

“‘Samu, what is this you have in your ass,” Atsumu teases. “I like this presentation.”

This time, Osamu is the one embarrassed. “Last meal, it hurt like hell. So...I wanted to prepare a little.”

“With an egg holder?” Atsumu cackles again, fiddling with the ceramic object. “Should’ve just told me ‘Samu, I could never bear to hurt you.”

Atsumu holds onto the base and slowly pulls the object out before tossing it aside. He smiles and teases Osamu’s enlarged hole that’s opening and closing around nothing. Gathering up some saliva, he spits onto Osamu’s asshole before lining his cock at the rim and slowly pushing in.

Along with the curse comes a near insatiable lust. Atsumu knows that if he doesn’t fulfill his need to fuck or be fucked, he will snap. He doesn’t really care who he kills during a frenzy of that sort, but it’s too risky to get Osamu caught up in the collateral.

The witch that wanted to create the perfect weapon, failed. She failed because she underestimated the twins’ bonds for each other. She failed because the twins discovered that witches excrete a very special hormone in their body after climax, and it is exactly that substance that is slowly curing Atsumu. With every witch eaten and absorbed, Atsumu is healing and gaining magical powers. He is even capable of passing those essences to Osamu. One day, everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

Osamu plays with a few strands of Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu’s softened cock still buried inside of him. Atsumu has his jaw resting on Osamu’s shoulder.

“You make me feel so good,” Atsumu sighs, enjoying the quiet moments after his high.

“And what about her?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the table where your remains are still at.

“She made me feel good too. The best one yet, but don’t be jealous.”

“Come on, let’s clean up and get out of here.”

After washing their bodies and changing into clean clothes, Atsumu and Osamu are ready to say goodbye to the cottage they have overstayed their welcomes at.

"Let's go 'Samu, we're already behind." Atsumu finishes dumping the last bucket of oil along the edges of the room.

The clamor of boots stride across the creaking wood. As though with the passing of its owner, the cottage itself has lost the will to live.

"Coming," Osamu calls back, walking past the makeshift funeral pyre for you. He notices a flash on the ground and bends down to pick up a button.

"'Samu! Get the fuck out or I'll burn ya down too!"

"Yea, yea."

Osamu drops the button into his shirt pocket and joins his twin outside. Atsumu strikes a matchstick and tosses the small flame into the cottage. Fire meets oil and spreads in an instance, engulfing the cottage in an angry blend of orange and red, devouring all contents and remains within. The smell of scorched wood reaches the twins who are looking at the sight from a distance.

"She was good," Atsumu comments, looking at his twin unsure about what Osamu's grey eyes are thinking about. Atsumu realizes that he didn't specify what good exactly means. But it doesn't seem like Osamu is paying much attention. Is Osamu thinking about you? Is he unhappy? Does he regret what happened to you? Although what's done is done already, if time can go back, would Osamu choose? You or Atsumu?

Osamu slips his hand into Atsumu's, erasing the unspoken worries away. He gently leads Atsumu onto the trail, leaving the burning cottage behind.

"Stop thinking such nonsense," Osamu mutters, squeezing Atsumu's hand. No matter what happens, Atsumu will always come first. His needs, his desires. That's what it means for Osamu to love Atsumu. Even though the rest of the world may not understand the relationship the twins share, calling it depraved and disgusting, it's still selfless on their part. What sin is there to honestly love? What sin is there to try and save his loved ones?

While Osamu admits to himself that he does feel a deep attraction to you and knows that Atsumu feels the same pull as well, there's nothing that can be done about Atsumu's condition. But it's not as though you are completely gone. Your essences and core are within both twins, being absorbed as one with their bodies and soul. You'll forever be with them in that way, even if you no longer have any sentient memory of it.

Osamu fiddles the button in his pocket; there's still a physical reminder of you in that tiny form.

It must be about a twenty-minute trek from the burning site. Although the flames are already far from eyesight, the scorching smell and embers still drift over. The twins pick up their pace, eager to exit the forest before nightfall and make it to the next destination. On the way, they pass by the tree trunk with a wanted poster.

"They never get my best angles!" Atsumu complains, ripping a wanted poster that is nailed to the tree trunk.

"It's not like you have a good angle, ‘Tsumu."

"Shut it, we look the same ‘Samu. You're just calling yourself ugly too!"

Osamu shrugs and continues his trek down the main trail. Atsumu huffs, tearing the parchment into indistinguishable pieces before throwing the shreds up into the air like confetti.

"Wait up!"

Osamu stops in his tracks. "Hurry up, loser. We still have a long way to go."

Atsumu takes a few wide strides and swings his arm around his twin's shoulder. Behind them, a very light drizzle falls from the sky.

519 notes · View notes

sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

Acceptance

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm (along 5’7’’). This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing!

Previous: ‹ Worth › | Next: ‹ Greed ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Acceptance; that’s what you’re searching for this whole time.

“OOOH!”

You stopped on your steps, immediately stiffened from the sudden loud voice–resulting someone bumping into you quite hard. Stumbling on your feet, the person immediately had their grip onto your arm–preventing you to kiss the ground face first.

“Sorry, you okay?” looking over your shoulder rather stiffly, eyes resting on the figure towering over your figure (still, the top of your head reached his cheek bone, but he’s tall alright). That and he had a rather… unique black, spiky hair.

“T-thank you,” you replied meekly.

“Sorry about him, he means no harm,” the taller boy apologized for his friend over there who… cried and kneeled on the ground? Is this having something to do with your existence!? Your height!? Anything!?

“There’re three girls now! Now they’ve got a pretty one, a cute one, and a model-like one!”

“Is he okay, though…?” you questioned, feeling the taller boy letting go of your hand and proceeded to pat your head lightly–which kind of reminds you of Daichi’s gesture.

“Yes, sadly.” He sighed in resignation. “Oh, by the way, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. Third year, Nekoma’s captain, and this is the first time I see you around, along with that girl over there.”

The boy, Kuroo, pointed to Yachi’s figure who’s escorted by Kiyoko–you thought she somehow forgot about you, but you instantly erased the thought from your mind when noticing her not so subtle glare directed towards Kuroo.

“Ah, I just became an official manager yesterday,” you said, finding talking to Kuroo comfortable–he did kind of intimidating for his height, still standing taller over you. Maybe he’s almost 190 cm. However, he exudes this comforting aura much like Daichi as a captain. “My name is Otohaku [Name] and the girl you mentioned before is Yachi Hitoka, she’s my classmate.”

“That explains a lot.” Kuroo hummed. “And I have to say, this is the first time I’ve seen a girl as tall as you. At least Yamamoto is right about the model-like part.”

Instantly, you found your face hot as if it was engulfed with fire–stealing a laugh from him and earning another hair ruffle for you.

“I’m happy you’re getting along with our manager and all,” Daichi soon interrupted by pushing his way in between you and Kuroo while removing the captain’s hand from your head. He smiled, but his smile was far than nice–which made you swallowed thickly even though it’s not directed towards you. “But, not too close, would you?”

“They screamed powerhouses already,” you muttered, watching teams practicing. “Especially the dark blue ones.”

“You have good eyes,” Coach Ukai suddenly said, making you turn to face him. “That’s Fukurodani Academy.”

“Fukurodani…?” your eyes slowly widened in disbelief, trying process the extremely familiar name in your brain. “The Fukurodani Academy? One of the top players in Japan is in that school.”

“Just like Ushiwaka, he’s one of the top five aces heading to nationals.” Takeda-sensei continued.

“Bokuto Kotaro.” Somehow you couldn’t control your inner monologue and just plain blurted it, earning a surprised look from the older men and your girls. Also magically, the person you just mentioned immediately snapped his head to look over his shoulder and looking straight at you. He immediately grinned and you tried to reply back with a nervous smile and a wave.

“[Name]-chan, how did you know that!?” Yachi asked.

“Well, my big brother hasn’t shut up about him, so,”

“Your brother is a player, Otohaku?” Coach Ukai asked. “That’s why your last name sounded familiar for a reason.”

“Does Otohaku Hisahito sounded familiar to you?”

“I’ve seen him in the volley magazine,” Coach Ukai nodded in understanding. “He’s a candidate for one of the top middle blockers for around three years. He’s sure has an impact in plays.”

“To think [Name]-chan has connection with a very famous person,” Shimizu chuckled.

“Hey, hey, hey!” There’re so many unexpected things happened in one day and you wondered on how your heart could keep up with it. One of them would be this–being approached by one of the top five aces in the country. “You’re from Karasuno, right? The assistant coach!”

“Bokuto-san, don’t decide their position on your own. You’re being rude.”

“But she looks like one!”

“I’m sorry for his poor introduction skills.” The black-haired boy with calm atmosphere apologized–he has a really contrast personality with Bokuto. “My name is Akaashi Keiji, and this is Bokuto Kotaro-san. The captain of Fukurodani team.”

“Uhm, nice to meet you. I’m Karasuno’s manager, first year. Otohaku [Name].” you bowed slightly to show your respect.

“What!? You’re a manager!? And a first year!?” maybe it’s instinct or his outgoing personality much like Hinata, he didn’t hesitate to close the gap and stood only a few centimeters away from you. “You’re so tall, though! It’s awesome! Man, first years this time are really something!”

“Bokuto-san, you’re being too close.” Akaashi interrupted and slightly tugged on the captain’s shirt, preventing him from taking another step forward and ended up scaring you away.

“But, Akaashi look at her!” Bokuto didn’t even hesitate to point at you enthusiastically. “She’s only a little bit shorter than me!”

Getting away from Akaashi’s grip, he threw an arm around you and plainly pressed his cheek on top of your head–where your height stopped. It all happened too fast to the point your brain short-circuited. “See!”

Akaashi’s brow twitched. “Bokuto-san, you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Excuse me,” Sugawara interrupted with a smile, however, the smile was far from friendly–dark auras looming behind him menacingly, which made Bokuto stiffened. Why? Because it was directed to him. “Could we have our dearest manager back, please?”

“Of course, we apologize if we took her time,” Akaashi said and pulled on Bokuto’s shirt to drag him away, essentially saving him from Sugawara’s wrath.

“Wuaah, it’s finally nice to meet you!” Ubugawa’s manager, Miyanoshita Eri, didn’t think twice to tackle you into a hug–sending you two sprawling onto the laid futon. You yelped in surprise as your back hit the fluffy material. “Sorry, you’re just so pretty!”

“Yeah, you have to know that Bokuto hasn’t shut up about you for even a second!” one of Fukurodani’s manager, Shirofuku Yukie, commented.

“Our boys are also getting rather distracted!” Shinzen’s manager, Otaki Mako, nodded and smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t judge them because I’m distracted too! Who’s not when they see a pretty lady not far away?”

“I guess [Name]-chan has her own charms between the boys,” Shimizu giggled, enjoying seeing you flustered.

“Riiight?” Suzumeda Kaori grinned widely. “Everyone’s more fired up than before.”

“By the way, how do you have this kind of height?” Eri questioned, loosening her arms around your shoulders. “Do you do intense sports or workout?”

“It’s genes, actually,” you answered, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. “My dad’s around 190 cm and my mom’s around 180 cm. Both of them are athletes.”

“That explains a lot,” Yukie hummed in understanding. “Just like Nekoma’s really tall first-year. He’s half Russian I guess.”

“H-half? That’s amazing,” Yachi stuttered.

“I could just imagine [Name]-chan being flaunted on in school!” Mako hugged her pillow close to her chest. “Ah, a goddess among mortals-“

“People… don’t like my height,” it’s rude for cutting her off, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it tasted extremely bitter upon your tongue. “The boys said I’m too tall and girls are supposed to be petite. The girls don’t want to get too close because I’m a giant, they’re intimidated. I… kind of wish I was smaller…”

“WHAT!? WHO SAID THAT!?” Yukie shrieked full of disgust. “How dare they judge you by appearance!?

“[Name]-chan, I need names! Names!” Kaori demanded, placing firm hands upon your shoulders and shook. “And I will strangle their neck tomorrow!”

“Please don’t murder anyone!” you raised your hands in front of your chest instinctively.

“Who do we have to kill tomorrow, girls?” Eri smiled darkly.

“Anyway, don’t listen to them, okay!?” Mako added. “You’re absolutely gorgeous!”

“Y-you have our backs, [Name]-chan!” Yachi followed. “W-we’ll fight them!”

“We and besides, if the boys somehow heard about this, there will be homicide.” Shimizu smirked.

Their support and full acceptance were alien to you.

“Thank you.”

Alien but you couldn’t help to feel warmth blooming in your chest–because this was something you’re looking for a long time.

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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[Navigation] [Masterlist]

@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

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the-purity-pen · 3 years

Text

One Temptation

Pairing: Benny Miller x Will Miller x Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

gif is not my own. credit to the creator [ if you know who made this, please tell me so i can credit them, thanks! ]

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY!) Warnings: Sex Pollen, Group sex, Double Penetration, Unprotected PIV (please be safe irl), cum eating, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), Anal, Shower sex, let me know if i missed anything! Word Count: 5,818 Notes: This has been in the works for MONTHS at this point and I finally feel okay releasing it to the hellsite. It’s filthy, it’s probably not perfectly canon but I love these boys and this was such an adventure to write. Please let me know what you think!

You were nervous as hell to walk into the conference room. The first day on any job is nerve wracking but even after a few weeks, you found yourself feeling like the outsider still. It wasn’t anyone’s direct fault, per say. Just a feeling you had from being the new one on the team.

The team you had been assigned to was a tight knit one. The four of them having been through all kinds of combat and missions together. Their previous team leader had gone off the rails and was forced to retire early.

Your debriefing hadn't gone into a lot of details but the remaining men on the team seemed friendly enough. Benny and Will Miller, the brothers were such polar opposites that their interactions were always entertaining. And Frankie Morales seemed like a pretty sensible one, a lovable man with a mean streak when needed.

And then there was Santiago Garcia. The man was generally more observant but when he spoke, he attracted the attention of an entire room. His personality was electric in a way. The way his scruff would sound as his hand ran over his jaw, deep in thought at whatever mission was being described as one that the team would be taking.

A new drug lord was suspected in Miami, carting drugs from Colombia and Bolivia. The trail had led to many dead ends but there was one loose end that your new team would be able to solve. A nightclub had been staked out and found to be smuggling drugs through some warehouse-like door in the basement. There wasn’t enough to get full intel and they needed a team to infiltrate and go undercover to gain more information.

Part of the plan was to have you, of course, dress up and play flirty with some of the bouncers and bodyguards of the club. You were extremely nervous and it apparently showed through because as much you knew these guys were good, you couldn’t help but feel like trusting them with an assignment like this was a big ask.

When the assigning officer heard your concerns, he offered up a serotonin-inducing serum. It was new on the market but was studied to have helped with team building. At least that’s what he told you. After having a short conversation with the team, you agree to all take the serum.

After taking the sticky sweet green drink, you were informed that it could take a full 24 hours for the full effect to take place. "Why don't we throw a party?" Benny chimed in with the boyish grin plastered on his face.

You stifled a laugh and shook your head. "I'm not exactly the party type," you admitted as your eyes scanned from Benny to Santi who spoke up next.

"What about just a night of beers and cheesy movies?" he offered to which all heads started nodding. "My place. Tomorrow night. Eight o clock," he added after the consensus was made.

***********

Walking up to Santiago's door had your heart thundering so loud in your ears, you were sure you wouldn't be able to hear him when he greeted you. Your hands twisted around the case of beers, hoping you had picked the right kind. You knew how these military types were picky about their booze.

"Hey! You made it!" Santi exclaimed as he opened the door and let you walk in. Your eyes took in the small apartment and noticed that you were the first to arrive.

"Am I early?" You turned around to face him as he closed the door. He shook his head with a chuckle as he moved closer to take the case of beer from you and move it to the fridge.

"Nah, they're just always late. Good choice by the way," he mentioned as he held up the case and nodded to it just before placing it in the fridge. Your arms weakly rubbed at each other, crossed over your chest.

When Santi turned back towards you, he chuckled. "You can take your jacket off, you know. I mean if you plan on staying," he cracked which made you smile. After your jacket slipped off and was placed on the back of a nearby chair, Santi held an open beer out to you.

"Thanks," you told him softly before there were more knocks on the door. The other three piled in, Will followed by Benny with Frankie bringing up the rear. Benny was already slurring and jolly, Will was just shaking his head at his brother as he greeted you. Frankie came up, adjusting the ball cap that he always seemed to wear and said hello.

***********

"Truth or Dare!" Benny cried out when a suggestion pool had started of what they should play.

Handfuls of beers had been consumed by this point and you were starting to feel more comfortable. It was also becoming apparent as you watched each of them how attractive they really were in this laid back setting.

The entire group groaned but Benny pushed forward on the couch so his elbows were on his knees. Santi had actually been oddly quiet, chewing on his lower lip as he was watching you interact.

"Alright Pope. You first," Benny held up a hand loosely gesturing at the man sitting across from him. Santi rolled his eyes and shook his head but grinned at the same time.

Will tapped Benny on the shoulder and whispered some idea into his brother's head that apparently made Benny very excited. "Ooh! Ooh! Okay okay," Benny adjusted his shoulders, shooting you a quick glance before looking back to Santi.

"Have you ever thought about-"

"I didn't even choose which one asshole!" Santi replied with a loud laugh. Seeing his smile that wide was uncommon and you felt a small knot form in your chest at it but you stifled a snort in response.

Frankie and Will also broke out into laughter as Benny conceded. "Alright alright fine. Choose, motherfucker," he narrowed his eyes at Santi before cracking a grin himself.

"Truth cuz I'm too old and lazy to do any stupid stunts you could come up," Santi chided at his brother in arms before taking a long swig of his beer, one of the bottles of the kind that you had brought.

Benny rubbed his hands together like he was concocting some evil plan. "Alright then back to what I was asking before you so -rudely- interrupted. Have you," he paused to glance over at you, his gaze unashamedly running over your body, making you curl into yourself a bit more on the big armchair you were seated in. "Ever thought about fucking her?" He nodded his head in your direction when his gaze came back to Santi.

Your heart was back to racing in your chest as you turned your attention to Santi. Without missing a beat, Santi answered. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

You were ninety percent sure that you stopped breathing. Your eyes blinked only out of automation as your mouth became a small o shape. Your entire body felt like it was heating up in the few moments that passed.

Santi then looked at you and your entire body felt ablaze again. "Uh, what? What did I just say?" Santi seemed to have come-to from a small spell he was under. Your gaze was so focused on his face you didn't see the way the other three shifted in their seats or the way that Frankie palmed himself lightly to adjust his growing erection at the thought.

"Y-you…" Words were hard to come by and your face felt like fire and your heartbeat whooshed into your ears. Your chest heaved lightly at the sudden panting you seemed to be doing.

"Well fuck me!" Benny cried out as he laughed nervously. Will punched his brother in the arm and that's when your eyes shifted to the rest of the guys, noticing that their gazes were locked on you. It was as if you held some sort of magical answer to a question you didn't have any clue of.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you cleared your throat and took a nervous sip of your beer. There was only a drop. You huffed nervously. "Oh, look, I need another beer," you quickly and quietly said before pushing up out of the chair and practically running over to the kitchen.

You could hear their low murmurs, chattering amongst themselves as you rinsed the empty bottle in the sink. Your hands were a shaking mess as thoughts swirled in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut for a second before bending to grab another beer from the fridge.

A presence against your backside made you gasp. Hands came to your hips as you slowly stood up, swallowing the large lump that had formed in your throat. You tried to clear it as you closed the fridge but the presence behind you kept their grip on your hips.

Your nose finally picked up the scent of the cologne. Santi. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back as one finger came up to trace a line down your neck. Instinctively your head rolled to the other side to open for his soft touch.

Your breathing was ragged and you immediately mewled when his lips took over for his hand against your neck. "I want you hermosa," his voice grumbled against your skin and you immediately felt weak. Your hands tried to focus on the beer bottle but you were slipping into euphoria.

"Santi," you heard Benny's voice come from across the kitchen. Both you and Santi turned to see all three of them moving closer. "We all want her," Benny admitted and you saw the way his tongue peeked out between his lips to wet then as his eyes seared into you.

"Guys." Your voice was weak and shaky. "I- I can't do this. It's-" your words were cut off by Santi's lips attaching to your neck again and the bottle you held was slammed down onto the counter as you gripped the edge to steady yourself.

One of his hands worked around to the front of your blouse and tugged at the buttons. You could feel the weight of him pressing against your ass and your entire body buzzed with lust. That familiar heat was starting to grow in the pit of your stomach and you knew the booze was partially to blame.

But only partially.

When your eyes fluttered open as Santi slowed his assault on your neck, you saw Benny standing so much closer. "Seriously," he said, his hand coming up to let a finger trace along your collarbone. "We want you," he told you in an uncharacteristically quiet voice before leaning in to capture your lips.

You moaned quietly against his lips, having not been kissed in far too long. You finally pushed against him and he pulled away from the kiss. "Seriously," you sloppily repeated back his words as you scooted to the side out of Santi's grasp.

A piece of paper was on the island counter that caught your attention. The red lettering at the bottom looked familiar. Your curiosity piqued and you moved closer to pick up the paper to read it.

Known side effects include but are not limited to: sudden panting, decreased morality judgement, increased appetite, increased sexual desire and libido…

You blinked as Santi rounded the corner of the counter to you. "Fuck," you muttered quietly to yourself as you noticed his movements and came around the other side to only be greeted by Frankie, who's tanned skin on his cheeks was flushing slightly.

"Did anyone read this?!" You asked, panicked and looked at all of them one by one.

"What is it?" Benny asked, not fully caring what it was.

You moved closer to Frankie to hold it up. His eyes tried hard to focus on the words as he took the paper from you. "It's the fucking side effects to the serum, man," Frankie spoke aloud as he too paused at the one about sexual desire. "Shit," he muttered as a hand came down to his crotch to adjust himself.

"Well what are they?" Benny asked impatiently as he eyed you walking across the floor to the living room. Santi moved over to Frankie to take the paper and read it over. Will was watching you along with his brother as your hips swayed as you paced the living room floor.

"Fuckin' increased sexual desire? What the shit is that? Why would they give this to us?!" Santi yelled but realized that all eyes were on you as you breathed heavily. Your arms were crossed over your chest and one hand was at your lips, tugging at them, trying everything in your power to keep yourself distracted from looking over at your team.

“Hey,” Santi called your name with furrowed brows. “You alright?” he questioned as he moved closer. Your mind was reeling but your body was convulsing with need, with want. It felt like a fire had been lit from deep within your belly and no amount of pacing or trying to think straight was going to smother it.

Santi’s hand on your shoulder made you jump, too wrapped up in your own body and thoughts to notice how close he had gotten. He was standing directly in front of you and your eyes were darting around his features. Your nose flaring with each pant of a breath you tried to take. His own eyes were trying to take in every movement of your face to see what was going on but he was far too distracted by the parting of your lips.

“Santi.” His name came out as a breathless whimper as you looked at him. Within a moment his hand was on the back of your head and his lips were pressing hungrily into yours.

You heard movement in the kitchen and into the living room but Santi’s lips had moved to your neck and all thoughts were gone. The burn in your body was glowing brighter, threatening to combust when he bit down on the conjunction of your neck and shoulder.

Suddenly another pair of hands were groping at the globes of your ass through your jeans. A groan in your ear that wasn’t Santi had your eyes fluttering. One of your hands was holding the back of Santi’s head, scratching his scalp lightly. Your other hand dipped behind your back and down, groping at what you found to be a very hard cock in someone’s jeans.

Benny’s groan came clear into your ears. “God, you’re so hot,” he muttered which made you release a small shuddering breath. Benny pressed against your back, his hands roaming over your body wherever Santi’s wasn’t.

Your body was already feeling on fire, like every touch was electric. The way Benny’s lips moved over the shell of your ear as Santi worked your clothes off. You were turned into Benny’s arms. He chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked face. “You look absolutely amazing,” he cooed softly, something you didn’t know he was capable of.

Your head turned as Benny kissed along your neck and you saw Will standing with his pants pulled down to his knees and cock in hand. You swallowed thickly as Santi kissed up your thighs and over your mound, his fingers tracing lines up your legs.

“Fuck I need to taste you,” Santi mumured as he pushed your hips a bit wider. You groaned and leaned back against Benny who held you up and slid his hands up under your shirt to grope at your breasts. You turned to see Will still stroking himself quietly at the sight before him. Watching you become totally undone was intoxicating.

Another pair of hands were on your body, taking over groping your breasts as Benny pulled your shirt up over your head. You could barely register that you were completely nude in front of your team as Santi’s tongue ran over your folds, groaning at the taste. When his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, the third pair of hands were gently caressing and rolling your nipples.

A blinding hot streak ran through your body, straight down to your toes. The way Santi licked into you causing your thighs to tremble. You managed to look down just in time to see Frankie’s head kissing at the swell of your breast.

The more their hands were on you, the faster their movements became, the needier they seemed. The burning ache in your body only seemed to grow as Benny gently guided you backward until you fell onto his lap. At some point he had released his erection. Santi crawled to try to reattach his lips to your core but Benny was quicker and slipped himself into your soaking folds with barely any hesitation.

You cried out as Benny filled you and started to thrust up into you, his hips snapping against your ass. Santi groaned. “Benny you fuckin’ cabron,” Santi muttered and Benny just chuckled in your ear as he nibbled on it.

“Babygirl, what feels better, Santi’s mouth or my cock? Hm?” Benny asked as his eyes bore into Santi who glared at him but palmed his own length anyways. Frankie moved closer and tried to kiss the other side of your face.

Your mouth was flopping like a fish and you couldn’t create enough saliva to speak. Instead you whined as Santi kissed at the inside of your knee, his hand more furious on his cock now. Will was standing close by, just watching everything but focusing on how wrecked your face was as his brother pounded into you.

Frankie was gentle but groaning against your skin as he tried to capture your mouth into a heated kiss. You kissed him wantonly, your moans filling his mouth and he greedily swallowed every sound. “Hermosa, please take my cock,” Frankie moaned into your mouth and without opening your eyes you nodded.

Benny continued to thrust up into you in haste as Frankie climbed over the arm of the couch and stood so that he could line his cock up. He ran it along your bottom lip, soaking him in your saliva and waiting for you to open before thrusting into you tentatively. You swallowed around him and he groaned at the sensation of your warmth around him.

Benny kept at you, thrusting harder and faster until you were crying out around Frankie’s cock. Frankie and Benny released their loads into you at the same time and you were close to your own but Benny softened and you lost the peak that was building.

You whined and Santi slapped Benny’s thigh. “Let me at her,” he said while standing up. Benny gently lifted you off of him and you whined at the loss of contact. You let go of Frankie’s cock with your mouth after you had cleaned him of all of his cum. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, licking into your mouth slowly and groaning at the taste of himself before he was helping you lie down on the couch. Frankie moved himself off the couch as Santi moved to hover over you and plunged his cock right into you.

Your back arched off the couch as you reached up and grabbed at Santi’s shoulders. “Fuck!” you cried out as Santi fucked into you with reckless abandon. You were soaked between your arousal and Benny’s cum and it made Santi twitch hard as he fucked you mercilessly into the couch. The girth of him stretched you differently than Benny had and you mewled and moaned at the sensations, letting Santi’s name fall from your lips like a chant.

“Please! I need to cum!” you screamed as a burning heat grew in the pit of your stomach and threatened to overtake your entire body. Your begging encouraged Santi as the other three looked on. Benny was already hard and leaking again and when your eyes met his, his hand stroked so hard he came all over the floor with a loud moan. Santi leaned over and bit at your collarbone, causing you to cry out as you clenched down around him, hard.

Your entire body was writhing and pulsating as you came harder than you had in a long time around Santi. That put him over the edge and with a few more solid, hard thrusts into you, he stilled and pushed further into you to spill into you. Within moments you felt the dripping between your thighs and you moaned quietly.

Santi leaned down to capture your moan and his lips slid against yours as he thrusted carefully into you, the burn in his body already growing again. “Pope c’mon man,” Frankie said quietly as he moved to pull Santi off of you. “Gotta give someone else a turn,” Frankie patted Santi’s shoulder firmly as you tried to catch your breath. Santi leaned down for another soft kiss before pulling slowly out of you.

Your body jolted at the sudden loss and both men stopped to stare. “Fuck,” Frankie muttered, causing both Benny and Will to move around to see their view. The cum was dripping steadily from your still fluttering cunt and every pair of eyes was mesmerized by the sight.

“Baby you are making a mess,” Santi said, wanting to lean in and clean you up but you put your hand out as a gesture for all of them to give you a minute. Your breath finally calmed down enough for you to be able to respond.

“I…. did…. nothing,” you panted and chuckled but the laugh made the cum dribble out of you even more and you moaned quietly at the sensation of two of your teammates cum dripping from you. Will’s nose twitched as his hand continued to slowly work his cock. The burn inside him was growing but he was a patient man. Always had been.

You lifted your head to look at them and gave a weak smile. They all looked at you with lust-blown eyes but Santi and Frankie were the ones to give you a smile back. “You okay?” Santi asked, his hand gently grazing your ankle in a caressing motion.

You nodded and looked at him. “Yeah. I think. For now,” you chuckled but soon felt your body heat up again. It was a dull ache but you tried to sit up to quelch it. Santi and Frankie both reached out for your arms to help you sit up. “I think maybe I should go shower,” you mentioned and they both nodded before standing up. Their cocks were at eye level for a moment and you felt your mouth water and wanting them both in your mouth at the same time.

They helped you up and your legs definitely felt like jello. You nearly crumbled and Santi and Frankie looked at each other with worry then looked at you as they tried to hold you up. “I got her,” a stoic low voice came from beside you as Will moved closer. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up with ease.

You giggled quietly but having his warm body pressed against your was making the fire within you grow again. You tucked your head into his neck and breathed in his scent. You couldn’t help the way your lips pouted and you kissed gently along the skin of his neck. He groaned low in his throat.

“Sweetheart, please,” his voice pleaded before he was in the hall and pressing your back up against the wall slowly. His hands grabbed at you to hold you better as his hips pressed into you.

“Will, please,” you whimpered when his teeth found the side of your neck and sank in. You felt the way he growled against your skin and the fire was spreading wildly through your veins again.

Will grunted as he pulled himself back just enough to stroke as his cock and line himself up. With a slow and steady push, he impaled you and filled you. The girth of him stretched you but the slight sting of pain gave way to even more pleasure as he started to thrust.

Each thrust earned him a soft moan from your lips and he couldn’t help but kiss you. His hands were pawing at your chest, twisting your nipples and he watched as your face contorted in pleasure and you cried out against him. “Fuck! Please! Harder!” you begged and didn’t care who heard you. Besides, it was high time it was Will’s turn. The man was the quiet type, strong and sturdy but with his lack of talking in many of the group settings, you weren’t sure of his opinion of you.

But as he pistoned in and out of him, faster and harder with each snap of his hips up into you, you were pretty sure you knew where he stood in his opinion on you. “Fuck, so tight,” he muttered against your lips as he kissed you bruisingly. A clash of teeth and tongues and lips. It was messy and needy but you wanted more.

Will grabbed at your back, his large hands splayed over your now hot skin as he pulled you away from the wall. He stood in the middle of the hall, his shoulders pulled back as his hands snuck down to try holding you under your legs. You held him around the neck until he had a good hold of you again and it was then that he rocked your world even harder.

He fucked up into you with a relentless pace, hitting that spot within you with ease, his cock moving along the shared juices of yours, his brother’s and Santi’s. But all he could focus on was how wrecked your face looked. Your jaw was slack, seemingly permanently so, your eyes rolling back as your head lolled back in pleasure.

Wanton cries were ripped from your chest as he grunted and held you up. Suddenly you felt a second pair of hands come to your ass and massage the flesh. A scratchy beard appeared at your back as sloppy kisses were given to the skin there. “Que linda,” Santi’s voice came in a growl as he watched you get fucked by Will.

“Santi,” you said breathlessly and Will fucked you harder to get your focus back on him. He captured your lips in a heavy kiss, one that forced your mouth into an “o” shape around his tongue as he greedily licked into you.

Santi was busy watching Will’s cock pump in and out of you, his hands still massaging at your ass. His thumb rimmed the hole of tight muscle, moving with each movement that Will was forcing on your body and you moaned a bit louder. Santi looked up at you. “Do you want to be filled, querida?” he asked and he waited until you nodded.

When you did, you mewled as his thumb pressed against the tight hole, slipping one knuckle in. You cried out even at the small intrusion, the way even just that little motion filled you even more. “More!” you cried out and you heard both men curse under their breaths.

Will fucked you relentlessly still as Santi pulled his thumb out, to which you whined in protest, just so he could spit all over his hand. He used his free hand to try to spread your ass cheeks a bit. “Will, man, stop for a second,” Santi commanded and Will obeyed, holding you down onto his cock.

Santi moved one finger into you and you couldn’t help the pained groan that came from you. “Good?” Santi checked in and when you nodded and bit your lip, he started moving his finger within you. He looked over your shoulder at Will and nodded and Will resumed moving.

You choked out a sound as your entire lower body started to clench up. “Oh, she’s close,” Santi praised, his smirk so evident just in the tone of his voice. He leaned down and bit at the soft flesh of your ass at the same that Will leaned into to bite at your collarbone. The dual biting did you in.

You cried out as they fucked you through your orgasm, both sets of muscles clenching down around them. Your lower stomach fluttered and your chest heaved as your mouth lay open in a pant, your eyes screwed shut. Will was close behind and fucked you through your high until he reached his own. When he pushed up into you, stilled with a groan, Santi stopped moving too.

You finally caught your breath and felt yourself come back to reality. Your body was spent, completely but also completely sated. Will carefully pulled you off of his softening cock and the moment your feet hit the ground, all you could feel was all of their cum slipping down your thighs.

Santi moved with you both and released his hand from you and saw you dripping. “Fuck, you’re a mess,” he muttered in a groan. You nodded, your arms still wrapped around Will’s shoulders. Will grunted and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you to your tiptoes so he could walk you back towards the bathroom.

Once in the room, Will and Santi worked together to strip you down, one moving and the other acting as your balancing stabilizer. Your eyes were heavy and your body felt like it was made of jello as you attempted coherent thoughts. You were naked, in a room with two men who you found extremely attractive. One of whom was leading you into the shower that had at some point been turned on.

“You got it?” Will asked softly as his hand lingered on your lower back as you held yourself up with your arm against the shower wall. You nodded slowly, your head feeling heavy. You let the warmth of the water just cascade over your back and tried to let it soothe you.

You tried to let your mind relax but there was a burning ache that felt it was far off in the distance. You could hear Santi and Will talking quietly but the roar of your heart in your ears combined with the water rushing over you made them also seem far away.

As you slowly started to wash up, your soapy hand brushing over your very sensitive clit, you yelped as a bright flame lit within you. “Fuck!”

Will and Santi immediately rushed up and opened the curtain to see you rubbing at your clit furiously. “What is it?! Are you okay?!” Santi asked in a hurried, worried tone.

“I need - fuck! - I need,” you whined as you squeezed your breast with your other soapy hand and felt your nipple immediately stiffen. Will was first to step into the shower behind you. His large hands came over your breasts as he held you against him.

“What do you need? Tell me. We’re here,” he spoke lowly in your ear, nibbling at the flesh as Santi pulled the curtain a bit on the opposite side to watch.

“I need to cum!” you screamed as one of Will’s hands came down behind you and his thick fingers ran through your folds. The fire within you was burning brighter by the second and it was almost painful.

“How do you want to cum? On my fingers or my cock?” Will asked and Santi chewed his lip as he watched you writhe against Will.

“Your face. I need your tongue on me. Now!” With your command, Will turned you and dropped to his knees without hesitation. Santi reached out and put his arm up behind your back so you wouldn’t fall.

Will shoved his face against your cunt, licked a broad stripe through your folds before his mouth closed over your clit. You whined out and Santi quickly slipped himself into the shower behind you. His hands wrapped around your breasts and tweaked your nipples. Your head fell back against his shoulder as the warm water cascaded over your chest and stomach.

Your hips moved against Will’s face as his mouth attached to your clit, his tongue licking and flicking as if you were a hard candy. His hands remained on your hips and he used just his tongue to work you up and within a minute there was a gush coming from you and spilling all over his face.

Santi peeked over your shoulder. “Holy shit baby. You just soaked him and not from the shower water,” Santi told you and turned to kiss your cheek. He was oddly proud and smirked against your wet skin as he whispered more praises into your ear, letting your body come back.

Will stood up and let his face get wet from the shower before he held onto your hips and kissed your chest softly, letting the water run down his face. He stood up and wiped the water off with one hand before looking at your blissed out face. “Are you back?” he asked and when you nodded slowly, both men looked at each other and chuckled. “Are you good? Like do you need more or-?”

You shook your head with a blissed out smile on your face. “I think it’s gone,” you told him and you felt Santi kiss along your cheek and down to your neck. “Though if you keep doing that Santi, I might not ever want you to stop,” you laughed weakly and moved your head to the side to allow him more room.

“Who says I want to stop querida?” he mumbled against your skin and you hummed contentedly. Will took the opportunity to actually wash your body with soft, gentle touches. He washed his own face then looked at you and Santi together and felt a new kind of pull in his chest.

“We could do this again… right?” Will asked softly and both you and Santi opened your eyes and straightened up to look at him. You chewed your lower lip and your head turned to look between the two men as the shower continuously rained down on all of you.

When you didn’t speak, mostly from not being able to find the words, Santi spoke instead. “Yeah man. I mean, if she’s down for it, then I’m down for it. I like you Will, you know that. And you,” he turned to lean in to kiss your cheek again. “I don’t think I could get enough of you now that I’ve had you,” he told you and nuzzled into your neck as his arms wrapped around you again. Will stepped forward and wrapped his arms around both your and Santi’s shoulders together and the three of you sat like that until the water ran cold.

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

You, Me, and Him | (dark)Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: the worst thing about the man who did this to you is that he’s convinced he isn’t the one who did this to you (or, brainscrambled bucky decides to keep the gift that the winter soldier left for him)

word count: 4k

warnings: smut (noncon), yandere-ish themes, stalking, kidnapping, very unstable/erratic bucky, slapping, creampie kink, praise

When you opened your eyes, you wondered why your room looked so strange. What possible angle could you be looking at your ceiling from that it would be like this?

However, when you turned your head, you suddenly realized that you were not in your room at all. The next thing you realized was that your hands were restrained— shackled, specifically, and suspended above your head. Obviously, this realization shot ice-cold terror through your veins as you began to try to understand how you’d gotten here. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember going to sleep in your room: no, you’d been out shopping, in the middle of the afternoon. Why couldn’t you remember anything after that?

Your head spun when a door nearby opened, and the man that awaited on the other side brought it all back.

He was following me. I tried to lose him, I turned a corner, but he was right there— and there was a syringe in his hand… and he must have—

“Oh my god,” the man gasped, “shit— are you okay?”

You stared at him in confusion, already starting to cry as you put two and two together about all this. Generally, only one thing happened after a man drugged a woman and chained her to a wall. The part that didn’t add up was the terror on his face as he rushed to you and knelt down in front of where you were lying— why was he worried about you?

“Oh no, oh nonononono,” he whimpered, mostly to himself, “oh god, I didn’t— this wasn’t… oh fuck.”

“Please let me go,” you started to plead between sobs, “I don’t know what you want, but I don’t have any money… I’ll give you whatever I have, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go, please—”

“No, no, no,” he shook his head quickly. Either he wasn’t listening (bad) or he was denying your request (worse) and both possibilities just made you cry harder. He, meanwhile, was rocking back and forth in front of you, covering his ears with his hands to muffle your cries. “Oh god, what have I done, what have I done— what did I do?”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimpered.

“No, no, I won’t— I would never do that…” he sighed. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

You squinted as you tried to make out what that meant, sniffling as your crying subsided a little (mainly from being distracted by the confusion of it all). “Do I… know you?”

He chuckled a little, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, no, not really, I’m— my name is Bucky,” he explained, “I— you might have seen me on the news, but that wasn’t really me, that was this other guy—”

“Why did you do this to me?” you interrupted.

“No, see, that’s the thing: I didn��t do this to you. It was… it was somebody else. He’s… he’s in my head, and every once in a while he takes control and sort of does his own thing…”

Not that anybody who kidnaps somebody is totally right in the head, but this guy is certifiable.

“And he did this to you. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay,” he assured you, though it wasn’t comforting at all, “I’m not gonna hurt you, I would never— I won’t do that, okay? I’m just gonna… I’m gonna let you go.”

You sighed with relief, although some voice in the back of your head told you not to trust him just because he seemed regretful. Regardless of his strange excuses, this was still the man who kidnapped you.

“You don’t believe me,” he realized with an awkward smile. “It’s okay, I understand. I wouldn’t believe me either— god, I must sound crazy, right? But I’m not crazy. I don’t think…”

This time your sigh was less relief and more irritation.

“See, I was, uh, tortured. Experimented on. That was a long time ago, and I’m mostly over it, but this other guy— he’s a soldier. I guess I am, too, but he’s… more on the war crimes side of things. Like, assassinations and stuff. That’s a whole other story…”

I think I’d prefer to hear that one.

“Anyways, sometimes I get sort of… messed up? Up here?” he gestured to his head, leaning back to sit on the floor in front of you with crossed legs. “Like, I can’t tell what year it is or how long it’s been since I’ve slept. My psychiatrist says I’m ‘losing time’ and that it’s normal for people with… whatever it is that I have. But it’s scary, you know? Because I don’t know what I’ve done in that time. So today, I woke up and had no idea how I got where I was—”

Same.

“And I came down here and… you’re here. I didn’t… I didn’t do this, I can’t stress that enough.”

“So… this other guy…” you tried to understand, hoping that appealing to his twisted sense of logic would get him to tell you something actually useful, “he did this?” Bucky nodded. “Does he do this often?”

“What, kidnap women? No this is… this is new. As far as I know.”

“Why me?”

“Uh…” he stalled, looking away. “God, this is sort of embarrassing, but… it’s probably because I sort of have this, um, crush on you…”

“You don’t even know me,” you mumbled.

“No, you don’t know me, but I… I know you,” he nodded confidently. “Do you remember a few months ago when you went to that art gallery by your apartment? It was raining that day, I couldn’t tell for sure if you came in to look at the art or if you were just trying to get out of the weather but, anyways, you had on this big puffy coat— ‘cause it was cold out— and you took off your hood and you just looked around… I saw you, cause I was in there to look at the art, too, and you looked so beautiful.”

You were getting anxious. He said he would let you go but he hadn’t really made any progress on that goal.

“And I sort of followed you after that, and watched you— I mean, that sounds really bad, it wasn’t like that, I just… I just wanted to make sure you were safe and—”

“Let me go, Bucky, please,” you interrupted, getting more desperate.

He shook his head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry… I just haven’t had anyone to talk to… you’re a good listener.”

Yeah, everybody’s a good listener when they’re tied up and forced to listen.

“Just let me finish my story and I’ll let you go. I was kind of in the middle of something. You know, it’s rude to interrupt people.”

Oh fuck. You’d angered him. It was subtle, but he was clearly irritated; he looked at the floor, and his jaw tightened a little. It must have been that this candid talk made you forget he was unstable and that you needed to tread lightly. You couldn’t afford another mistake like that.

“I’m sorry, Bucky, finish your story,” you offered.

“Okay,” he nodded, “well, anyways, when you came into the gallery you looked around for a while but there was one painting you kept looking at— do you remember it?”

You shook your head.

“Really? You must’ve stared at it for half an hour. I swear I saw you tearing up a bit,” he smiled. “Clearly it had an effect on you. I wasn’t sure if you were considering buying it, or if it would make you upset to see it in your house every day, but the way you looked at it… it changed everything for me. You smiled at me as you left, just a quick glance— I’m not offended that you don’t remember me just from that, if anything it’s good because it made it a lot easier to trail you, but… I knew then that you were such a kind, soulful person.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “I remember… I remember that.”

It was so cold out that the rain was nearly frozen. You’d gone in to escape the elements, but one painting drew you in. Someone else was there, a man that you remembered thinking was attractive but a little eerie with the way he just stood there, seemingly even more purposeless than you. He smiled at you as you left, and you smiled back. You were just trying to be friendly. No good deed, though, right?

“Do you remember the painting?” he asked again, leaning in a little closer with innocent hope sparkling in his eyes.

“Yes,” you nodded, “it was… it was a woman, and she was looking away from the viewer, out over the water. She looked sad, but determined, like she was thinking about something impossible to describe.”

He smiled wide then, apparently impressed by your description. “Look,” was all he said as he pointed to the wall beside you— and as you turned your head, you gasped as you saw it: it was the painting, even more hauntingly beautiful than you remembered. You started to cry again, because somehow it was this show of disturbed affection that made you more sure than ever that you weren’t going to get out of here.

“Don’t be scared,” he soothed, moving closer again and wiping the tears from your face gently. “It’s gonna be alright.”

“Please let me go,” you whispered shakily, looking back at him, straight into his eyes, as if maybe you could find some sanity there to appeal to.

He frowned a little as he pulled back, bringing his thumb to his lips to chew the nail nervously as he thought. “See, here’s the thing…”

“Bucky, please—”

“I don’t think I can do that,” he sighed.

“Please,” you cried, the word starting to lose all meaning as you just fought to be able to speak past the force of your sobs, “please, please—”

“You could tell somebody— and I know it wasn’t me, but the police aren’t gonna care about that. I always have to take the heat for what he does… and I would just rather not go to prison.”

“I won’t, Bucky,” you feverishly defended, “I wouldn’t tell, I swear— we’re friends! Friends don’t tell on each other—”

He interrupted you as he grabbed you by your shirt suddenly, pulling you towards him as you recoiled. “I don’t have friends,” he growled.

“We… we could be friends,” you offered weakly. “I could be your friend. Do you… do you want to be my friend?”

He studied your face, the gaze of his bright blue eyes burning through you instantly. “I can’t say that I do.”

You whimpered as he leaned in closer, taking a deep breath right against the side of your face.

“You smell so good,” he whispered, his left hand— bionic metal, much to your horror— reaching up to trace over your face and hold you close to him. “We aren’t friends, silly; we’re soulmates.”

You shivered, gut sinking as you closed your eyes and thought there might still be a chance it was all a horrible dream. This isn’t happening to me, this isn’t happening to me, this can’t be happening to me—

“Hey!” he yelled, slapping you on the face suddenly. “Keep your eyes open!”

You cried but tried to do as he asked, knowing it would only be so much worse if you didn’t do whatever he wanted.

“The point is, even if you didn’t tell, letting you go just isn’t… economical for me,” he explained. “‘Cause the truth is, even though I didn’t want to kidnap you, right now I wanna… I wanna keep you.”

He didn’t even let you start crying hard again before he cradled your face in his hands, refusing to let you turn away.

“No, baby, it’s okay— it’s gonna be good!” he promised. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Please, Bucky, don’t do this,” you sobbed.

“Shh, shh, don’t you get it? He did this to help me— he knew I couldn’t do it alone, ‘cause I was too afraid to talk to you, but he brought you to me, and now I’m gonna make you understand how good we are for each other.”

He scooted closer, his hands rubbing your legs through your jeans as you cried silently.

“And that’s why he didn’t touch you,” he continued. “He just left you for me, cause he knows you’re— you’re mine.”

He kissed you suddenly, and it was awkward and sloppy against your unwilling lips. His tongue eventually managed to force your mouth open, exploring and filling it as you struggled and failed to turn away. His hand on your jaw was almost tight enough to choke you, a looming threat of what awaited if you didn’t kiss him back. You couldn’t exactly put much passion into it but you tried your best.

He was smiling when he leaned back and broke away from you, still holding your face and seeming almost proud— of you or himself, you weren’t sure.

“You are so perfect,” he praised quietly. “I can’t believe I finally have you… god, it’s like a dream come true.”

Or a nightmare, you responded internally.

You jumped when he pulled the knife out from a holster on his belt.

“Oh, this? I won’t hurt you with it— so long as you stay still,” he explained gently as he leaned forward and started to cut off your shirt while you tried desperately not to shake.

He looked at you with the reverence of a man at the altar as he tore the shreds of your clothes away, cutting slowly until you were just in your bra and panties.

"Stop," you whispered, but it was so quiet he must not have heard you— or he just didn't care. He gingerly slipped the knife between your bra and your chest, tugging out to snap it off.

He took a breath to steady himself; he seemed nearly as nervous as you, just in an entirely different way.

"Baby," he mumbled under his breath, "god, I just wanna do everything to you."

It was hard not to tense up when he said that, or when he brought the knife between your legs to cut off your underwear, but you willed yourself not to shiver because you really weren't ready to lose anything important if his hand slipped.

With them cut and tossed aside, you forced your eyes shut— because you couldn't stop him from seeing you, but at least you didn't have to watch. As your legs instinctively closed, he gently guided them back open, metal fingers cold on your skin but flesh ones unbearably warm.

“You have such a nice body, I don’t know why you hide it in those baggy clothes,” he chuckled as he ran his hands over your skin. “I watched you shower a few times, you know, and I saw you look at yourself in the mirror before you got in…"

You opened your eyes, but he wasn't looking at your face, instead taking a long moment to take in everything else.

"You looked like you were disappointed," he continued, "but— but you’re beautiful, and you should know that. You need somebody to tell you that.”

You felt your face heating up even though you should be horrified, not flattered. To be fair, it was a bit of both.

“Do you think I’m, you know, handsome?” he asked awkwardly, glancing up to your face again. “People used to say that about me, a long time ago. Are you… attracted to me?”

You shook your head, lying.

“Then why are you so wet?” he sing-songed with a mocking grin, thick fingers spreading your lower lips and gathering the arousal they found there. You whimpered when he brought those fingers to his lips and sucked them hungrily. “Fuck, you taste incredible— I mean, I knew you would, but wow, this is so much better than just smelling those panties he stole.”

You shivered with disgust, realizing that he was responsible for the pair you thought were lost in the laundry.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that,” he laughed. “Yeah, it was his idea and all, I didn’t do anything but… I’ll tell you a little secret,” he smirked as he leaned in, right against your ear, whispering: “I got off with them, and on them, and it felt soooo good…”

He quickly pulled his cock out of his trousers as you started to struggle against the chains again, getting a quick glimpse before looking away as you wondered how he could possibly fit that in you.

“Do you like knowing that? Do you like knowing I stroked my cock and thought about you? I imagined you were laying under me, begging me to fuck you… and now you’re here, and it’s real, and it’s gonna be wonderful.”

You gasped as he suddenly pushed in, trying not to react but knowing he was watching your face intently and saw it all. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “you’re so tight, god, I knew you’d be perfect…”

You cried as he started moving inside you, holding your hips steady and filling you completely until it actually hurt to be stretched so wide. You were sure nothing had ever been so deep inside you, and it was making your whole body jolt with each thrust.

“Does it feel good? Do you like my cock in you?” he asked— but it didn’t sound like dirty talk, it sounded like he was genuinely asking.

You shook your head, lying again.

“What if I do this?” he offered, reaching down and circling a calloused thumb over your clit. Your back arched into his touch, and he grinned proudly. “See, doesn’t that make it better? I bet I can make you come.”

One final lie for the night, you shook your head.

"Oh, doll," he soothed, kissing away a tear that had trailed down your cheek, "it's okay… it's okay to like it. You don't need to pretend."

He reached down and pressed his hand into your lower belly, making you winced as he applied pressure until it took everything you had not to scream.

"Feel that?" he cooed. "I can feel it. We're finally together, baby, you never have to be alone again… isn't it incredible?"

Sobbing, your back began to arch up against the wall you were chained to. With his hand pushing on you, it was impossible to ignore the head of his cock slamming into your g-spot— hard enough that your entire body shook with each thrust. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, and not just because you’d never been kidnapped before. As he leaned down to suck on your neck hard enough to leave a mark, it was hard not to feel like he was claiming every part of your body all at once. You bit down on your lip, afraid to moan too loud, but he heard the muffled noises and pulled up to tut at you disapprovingly.

“Don’t do that,” he frowned, “I wanna hear everything, pretty girl. I wanna hear you beg for me.”

You whined as you tried to resist it, but getting railed like this made you want to do whatever he told you to.

“Come on, baby,” he encouraged sweetly, “just let go, I know you want to…”

It was bubbling up in your chest faster than you could stop it, each cry louder than the last until you couldn’t hold back anymore. “Bucky!” you shrieked, hating yourself as you heard him laugh happily right by your ear.

“Oh I know, I’m right here, doll,” he soothed gently, holding you tightly; your hands wiggled inside their shackles, and you shamefully realized that you were craving to wrap your arms around him, run your fingers through his hair. The desire to push him away was lost to the need to reach your peak. “Say my name just like that when you come on my cock, sweetheart.”

Your walls were already convulsing and you were moaning so loud you thought you might lose your voice. Pleasure built up faster than you could comprehend, and so intensely that little black dots were dancing on your vision.

Oh god yes, right there, don’t stop, yes, you would’ve cried out were it anyone else doing this to you. Instead all you could do was whimper his name, somewhere between begging for more and begging for mercy.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I can feel you coming for me— you’re so good, so fucking good,” he groaned, “I’m close already, can you believe it? I should slow down, so I can make you come again, but you feel too good, I can’t stop.”

Most of that was lost to you, though, because everything had gone numb and fuzzy in the wake of your orgasm, your body limp in his grasp. The way he pulled your hips into his made you feel used, like a— well, like a doll, fittingly.

“Oh god, babygirl— can I come inside?” he asked gently, but when you weakly shook your head, he just smiled. “It’s gonna feel so good to fill you up.”

Before you could make it clear that you were saying no, he leaned forward and kissed you— aggressive and rough as he started to breathe deeply and moan against you. You kicked your legs to try to get him away but all you could do was uselessly scrape your feet against the floor. You could feel him pulsing inside you, growling against your lips until suddenly warmth began to paint your walls. Whimpering, you slouched limply as the fight left you.

“Oh my god, angel,” he sighed, pulling back and smiling as he traced his thumb over your face, following the path of a fresh tear, “that was… you’re incredible. I’ve never come like that, you feel so fucking amazing.”

He kissed you again, gentler and slower than before.

“Is it weird that I don’t wanna pull out?” he asked just louder than a whisper, chuckling as his nose brushed against yours. It was like this guy thought he was in a Hallmark Christmas movie while you were in a Lifetime thriller. “I could just stay inside you forever… but I won’t.”

He watched in awe as his hips pulled back and his softening cock slipped out of you. Your face burned with shame as you felt a gush of his come (and yours) leak from you.

“Wow, look at that,” he mumbled weakly. “Can you push it out, baby? I wanna see how good I filled this pretty pussy.”

It made you feel disgusting, but you summoned the last of your strength to do as he asked, unable to see the results but watching him stare between your legs and bite his lip.

“Fuck, babygirl, that’s… that’s fucking gorgeous. I stretched you out pretty good, and you’re all swollen…”

Strange enough, he pulled you into a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart… my pretty little doll.” When he pulled back a bit, he moved a stray hair that had stuck to the sheen of sweat on your face, admiring you with a small smile. “God, I can’t believe you’re finally all mine. Guess he was lookin’ out for me, bringing you here. I oughta thank him, somehow.”

He must have known what you were imagining by the way you tensed up, and he laughed softly.

“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t let him touch you. I won’t let anyone touch you but me. Now let’s get you out of these chains and into a hot bath, how’s that sound?”

Weakly nodding, you let your eyes fall shut as he reached up to unlock the metal cuffs around your wrists. Holding your hands in his, he softly kissed the marks left there from when you’d still been fighting, before finally scooping you up into his arms. He didn’t struggle at all to lift you, and you were too exhausted to notice the way you were leaning into his chest as you dozed off.

You dreamt that you were looking out over still water, contemplative but determined, before falling right in.

#dark!bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes non con #yandere!bucky barnes

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Note

Hi 🙋‍♀️I have a request if u take them. Cud u write sth about Tom Holland x singer reader and the reader is performing at the Grammys or sth and the performance and song and costume is like really seggsy and Tom gets jealous??? Idk 🤷‍♀️ Sorry to bother u I just love your writing

Sorry this took me so long was at a lack of ideas. I strongly believe Taylor Swift’s reputation deserved a Grammy. So I'm borrowing her album for the reader. Hope you like this.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Singer! Reader

Warnings : angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive theme, missed typos

Mini Playlist : Endgame by Taylor Swift, There’s nothing holding me back by Shawn Mendes

Baby I'm jealous

You and Tom were seated at the back when your limo pulled over at the venue. You could hear the commotion from the inside even though you have walked numerous red carpets by now but it still seems to be a little nerve racking to you. Especially when this is the first time Tom is accompanying you to the Grammys which is going to be a big deal for the media. The security personnel opened the door and as you stepped out of the car you were flooded with flashing lights from the cameras.

Tom held out his hand for you, you slipped your arm into his and walked with a dazzling smile posing for the cameras “you look amazing, darling” he knelt down to whisper in your ear. In the meantime a lady journalist came forward to ask you a bunch of questions.

“So Y/N three nominations this year, how are you feeling?”

“Well it’s always good to be back here and share the stage with all these talented artists as usual I’m excited and looking forward to the night” you answered.

“We see you have brought company this year” she remarked which had you blushing.

“Yeah, I couldn't think of a better company than him on this very important occasion” you said bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Tom, what do you have to say?” she poses the question to him.

“Uhh I mean she has always been an incredible singer and her songs are the reason that made me fall in love with her in the first place” he replied looking proudly at you.

“Aww you both are adorable. Wish you the best” she said before leaving.

“Thank you so much” you thanked her, walking inside the auditorium and sat on your designated seats. There you were met with lots of your friends from the music industry as you said hi and chatted with them for a while.

“Hey Y/N how are you?!” you heard Shawn from behind as you turned around and went to eagerly hug him. You and Shawn were really good friends from the beginning of your career and you have always been supporting each other’s works.

“I’m good, how are you?” you chirped.

“I’m fine now” he remarked cheekily and went to sit beside you as you started talking catching up on each other totally ignoring Tom. To be honest he was a little annoyed seeing you so over friendly with him but he brushed off his thoughts quickly.

The show began and a few awards were distributed with some performances in between by different artists. You too had to perform for tonight which also included a duet with Shawn and soon your time came as you stood up from your seat to go backstage.

“Best of luck, love” Tom said to boost your confidence.

“Thanks babe” you kissed on his cheek lovingly.

“See you on the stage Y/N” Shawn snickered.

“Oh I’m looking forward to it” you blew him an air kiss and headed backstage to change into your stage outfit. The stage was set and you could hear the loud cheers of the audience from backstage. Truth to be told you always get a little nervous before any public concert but this time it was different because Tom sat there in the audience and you are more excited than nervous to perform. The lights went out and the screen doors slid open as you walked on the stage with the spotlight on you. The notes begin to play as you vocalize striding across the stage with oomph.

I wanna be your endgame

I wanna be your first string

I wanna be your A-Team

I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The crowd cheered as the supporting dancers slowly entered the stage. Tom sat amidst the crowd in awe witnessing you in your full glory. You owned the stage like a queen. He knew you were the prettiest woman he has ever met but the bodycon suit you were wearing accentuated your curves all at the right places.

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me we got big reputations, ah

And you heard about me, ooh

I got some big enemies

You waltzed around the stage with a sultry look in your eyes, slightly swaying your hips making the crowd go crazy. Tom was very good at keeping his emotions under check but when it comes to you he’s a possessive man so when he heard a few men from the crowd passing comments of how hot and sexy you looked he was fuming from inside. You went on to sing two more songs from your album then transitioned to Shawn’s latest single.

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

“Make some noise for Shawn Mendes!” you cheered as he emerged from the backstage playing the chords on his guitar and the audience screamed at the top of their voice.

I wanna follow where she goes

I think about her and she knows it

I wanna let her take control

'Cause everytime that she gets close, yeah

He sang with his gaze directed at you which didn’t go unnoticed by Tom who was looking at you both with narrowed eyes and clenched jaws.

She pulls me in enough to keep me guessing (mmm)

And maybe I should stop and start confessing

Confessing, yeah

You joined in singing along the lyrics with him exchanging flirtatious gestures with each other. You encouraged the audience to sing along with you.

Oh, I've been shaking

I love it when you go crazy

You take all my inhibitions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

There's nothing holdin' me back

You were clearly having a fun time sharing the stage with Shawn as you both swayed to the beat with a wide smile and the crowd cheered you on. Tom heard someone saying “they make a good pair” and he completely lost it. Now he was jealous even though he knows it’s wrong because you had always made it clear that you loved him more than anything but you in that ravishing outfit dancing and singing being way too comfortable around each other wasn’t helping much.

Your performance ended after some time and Tom couldn’t be anymore happier. You were back in the audience again as Shawn couldn’t stop praising you “you just set the stage on fire Y/N! It was awesome”

“Oh shut up! You weren’t bad either” you quipped. Tom sat there silently feeling neglected at how you had time to talk with everyone except him. The show ended with you winning the three categories you were nominated for : album of the year, song of the year and artist of the year. You were elated at your achievements as your team escorted you for a photo session. You saw Tom standing at a distance and walked over to him.

“Why are you standing here? Come and stand with me” you said, grabbing his arm.

“No I’m better off standing here rather than being your arm candy” he says bitterly pulling out his arm from your hold.

“What?!” you were slightly taken aback as you looked at him in confusion.

“Hey Y/N!” your manager called out.

“Just a moment!” you told him to wait and dragged Tom to a corner.

“What the hell was that back there?” you hissed at him.

“You know it very well” you shrugged with a disinterested look on his face.

“I-I really don’t understand where this is coming from Tom but are you upset with something?” you were really concerned with his sudden outburst.

“Well isn’t that obvious? When your girlfriend brings you to a public event to treat you like a sidepiece and goes on flirting with her colleagues on stage it is naturally upsetting” he jabbed at you.

“Are you even listening to what you are saying Tom? Everyone here are my work friends just like you have” you retorted in a hushed tone.

“Well it looked more than just friends” he bit back.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you were totally done with him, fuming at his accusation.

“Y/N come fast!” your manager called you again.

“Yeah coming!” you replied and turned to Tom again “you know what it was actually my fault that I brought you along with me. I thought we were ready to take the next step in our relationship but it clearly doesn’t look like that” you snapped at him and walked back to have your pictures taken. You were stopped by various people, for interviews as well as to congratulate you for your win but you were so annoyed with Tom you couldn’t concentrate properly.

Towards the end of the night, you had almost forgotten about Tom’s comments as you busied yourself into conversations with different people from the industry, sipping on champagne.

As soon as he cooled down Tom was quick to realize his mistake and tried to approach you several times, but you successfully ignored him by preoccupying yourself elsewhere. He eventually caught up to you, grabbing your arm before you could walk away “Y/N, please. Can we just talk for a second?”

“No I don’t think so because I’m quite busy flirting with each and every guy over here” you snapped, turning to walk away. He grabbed your arm again, “Y/N, c’mon love, I’m really sorry” he whined.

You whipped around “not now Tom. We will talk after we get out of here so if you will excuse me” saying so you walked away to be stopped by a reporter for another interview. The after party ended an hour as you and Tom exited the place. You climbed into the limo, quickly putting up the privacy window. Tom climbed in after you, taking a seat glancing at you.

“What?” you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. You could tell he was really upset with what he’d said earlier.

“Y/N.. I can't even explain how sorry I am” he started “I know I was being a dick back there and I feel terrible about it”

You leaned back in your seat sighing “you know what, I'm really tired. Can we talk about this after we reach home?” He nodded silently in agreement without uttering a single word on the drive back.

Once you got home, you walked through the living room and made your way into your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed taking off your heels and massaged your ankles. After sometime Tom joined you in the bedroom. He takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie as you stare at him for a second. He looked so good in formal attire which filled your head with filthy thoughts. How you could have celebrated your win in a different way but he had to ruin it by acting out like that.

“Y/N, I truly am sorry. I.. I have no excuse for my behavior. It was completely my fault” he walked over to you, sitting next to you on the bed.

You sighed deeply and stood up walking over to your walk in closet. Your hands went to your back to reach out to the zipper of your dress “I really didn’t expect this from you at least. Of all the people I thought you would understand since you are in the same line of work” you said with disappointment clear in your voice. Tom hung his head low in shame.

“I know babe it was rude and totally uncalled for. I was a fucking idiot and let my insecurities get the best of me” he said with remorse.

“Then just think about how I feel when I have to watch you making out with other women on screen. I never said anything to you. Instead I always supported you and you on the other hand questioned our relationship just because I was singing and dancing with someone else who happens to be a very good friend of mine” you ranted still struggling with the zipper of your dress “a little help please?” you huffed slightly irritated and angry.

Tom bit back a smile as he walked over to you and helped you unzip your dress. He took your hands in his and pecked on them gently “I didn't mean to ruin the night for you” he apologized, looking down at your hands.

You pulled out your hands and crossed your arms “well it wasn’t that bad given that I won three Grammys but I wished you were there by my side” you said completely forgetting that you were standing there in just your strapless bra and very tiny pair of lace underwear.

Tom was eyeing you the whole time with a known smirk plastered on his face. You noticed that and looked down at yourself “oh, c’mon. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here!” you scoffed, throwing your hands in the air. You shook your head in annoyance and grabbed the black silk robe, tying it around your body.

Tom was broken out of his trance as he walked over to you, placing a hand on your cheek “Y/N believe me I’m really sorry. I wish I could take back all the horrible things I said to you. You didn’t deserve any of it. Sorry for being such a jerk to you”

Your expression softened as you held his hand gently “well I’m glad to hear that. And even if I try I can’t stay mad at you for a longtime so apology accepted” you said with a smile.

“Thank you darling it would never happen again I promise” he says stroking his thumb on your cheek bone as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips “and I mean it” he stated a hand reaching up to untie your robe as your robe fell open, your breath hitched “though it was slightly your fault too, how do you expect me to not get jealous seeing you with someone else looking so bloody gorgeous in that outfit?” he hooked his index finger under the silk on your shoulder, pulling the robe down slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin “but I’m really sorry” he whispers in a husky tone.

“Then prove it” you looked at him challengingly, a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without any further delay Tom crashed his lips to yours effortlessly lifting you up by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

...........................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part I (x reader insert)

Summary: Our favorite couple has some catching up to do.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (or xOC)

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: descriptions of Mexico and prison; they have a sleepover, but it’s just talking and sleeping 🥰

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: Here we go!!!!! We’re picking up from right where we left off in tmsidk part X.

Song Rec: The Luckiest by Ben Folds

Series Masterlist

———

“Do you— would you want to— come upstairs?” he asked.

Spencer stood in front of her, unsure of what to do with his hands. Y/N was absolutely radiant— bathed in the very last of the golden daylight and more beautiful than he even remembered. All he wanted to do was hug her again and never let go.

She shook her head, and he tried not to instantly deflate. “I have to feed Roald.” She smiled a little at him and restarted his heart. “But would you want to come over? We could order somethi—”

“Yes— yes.” She let out a quiet laugh at his eagerness, and he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Can I— I just want to drop this stuff off and change, and then I’ll, um.” He gestured vaguely to her. “Should I drive you or do you want to walk or I can just— meet you? Whatever— whatever you want.”

“I’m gonna head back now and take care of Roald. Take your time, and just— well, here.” She held out her hand. “I’ll put my number in your phone, and you can just text me when you’re on your way.”

He fumbled the phone out of his pocket, placed it into her outstretched hand, and nearly vibrated with the way her fingers brushed over his. She stared at the unsophisticated phone in her hand. “You weren’t kidding about the technology thing, huh?”

He ran a hand down the back of his neck and shrugged. “I prefer to keep things simple.”

“I haven’t seen a T9 keyboard since I was in high school. This is a relic,” she laughed and then gave him a soft smile. “And… very you.”

He watched her fingers as she pressed along the tiny keys, still sort of in shock that she was here, that he was getting a second chance, that she wanted to do this with him. She handed the phone back to him and then stuffed her hands in her pockets. “So, I’ll see you in a little bit?”

He nodded and gave her his best smile. She stepped forward into his space, and his eyes went a little wide as she leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She stepped back with a smile, then waved and turned on her heel headed to her car.

He stood rooted to the spot until she had disappeared from view, then let out a long breath and looked down at the small screen of his phone at her contact information. His lips twitched at the name she’d given herself.

Miss Honey <3

…

Forty five minutes later, Spencer smoothed down the front of his cardigan and blew out a sigh. He’d spent five of those minutes reveling in the magic that was Y/N, and the other forty convincing himself that she’d already changed her mind. But he was a man in love, and so he was standing in front of her building, willing himself to press her buzzer.

He was jolted out of his stupor by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled the device from his pocket and saw her name on the tiny screen, hesitating only a moment before pressing the button to answer. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He could hear her smile through the tinny speaker, and it immediately set him at ease. “I was just checking to make sure you remembered where you were going.”

“Yeah, I— I’m outside now, actually,” he confirmed.

“Oh, great! I’ll buzz you up.”

The door buzzed open, and Spencer pocketed his phone, stepping into the small foyer. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants as he made his way to the staircase. He had barely taken the first step when she called, “It’s the third floor!”

He barely resisted the urge to take the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing of the third floor, she was standing in the doorway in a purple sweatshirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks with dragons on them. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Hey.” She returned his smile. “Come on in.” She moved aside and waved him into her apartment.

He stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door behind him. “I can take your coat. Feel free to leave your shoes there. Roald will be in hiding for the next half hour or so,” she informed him.

He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her, looking briefly around the tidy space. The walls of her living room were a calming mint green, adorned with plenty of art and photographs. Her couch was a blush pink velvet, exactly as soft as she was.

“Okay, I’m starving,” she admitted, turning to hang his coat in the coat closet. “We can order pizza, Indian, Thai— any preference?”

He shook his head. “No, whatever you want.”

She closed the closet door and cocked an eyebrow. “So if I wanted to order a huge pizza with extra cheese, you’d be cool with that?”

“Sure, absolutely,” he nodded.

She tilted her head. “Even with your dairy thing?”

He was surprised that she even remembered such a tiny detail from all those months ago, and his heart would have fluttered if he wasn’t so focused on making as few waves as possible. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a mistake letting him back in, and he didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to rethink her decision. “Well, it’s— it’s just a sensitivity, not a true allergy. Although it’s gotten a bit worse in recent years. But really, whatever you want to do is fine.”

He suddenly struggled to make eye contact, feeling overwhelmingly awkward and out of place. Now that he was here in her apartment, it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. He cracked the knuckles on each finger as he waited for it. She let out a small sigh, and he braced himself for impact.

“Why don’t you come sit?”

Her voice was quiet, and then her hand on his arm was soft, and she was leading him to the couch and sitting down next to him. She kept some distance between them, placed her hands in her lap, and then she was still for a long moment. He could feel her eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know if she wanted him to say anything at all.

“You know I forgive you, right?” The question was tentative. He met her eyes, and he didn’t see the regret or pity that he expected. There was something else there; something he couldn’t quite decipher. “Because I do. Forgive you. You apologized, and you meant it, and you allowed me space and time to process. And that’s— that’s all I could have asked for.”

As seemed to always be the case, the task of articulating what he was feeling began to crush him under its weight. The words were there, but he couldn’t get the order right. If it were anyone else, he would have just evaded the conversation entirely. But he’d promised her that he would try. After everything he’d put her through, she deserved that much.

He breathed in through his nose, expelling it in a sigh. “I’ve just— I’ve spent the last month thinking about this— about you— pretty much exclusively,” he admitted, staring at his hands. “And I’m just realizing that I never really… allowed myself to think about what would happen next, because I wasn’t sure that this would happen at all.” He gestured between them and then looked at her. “And now I’m here— with you, and I just— it’s…” He let out a sigh.

“Doesn’t live up to expectations?” she prompted.

His eyes went wide, and he moved closer to her on the couch. “No— god, no.” He instinctively reached for her hand, felt that electricity again when she allowed him to lace their fingers together. He was already making a mess of things. “You always exceed expectations.” He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand. “I just— I don’t… I don’t wanna mess this up.”

She covered their intertwined fingers with her other hand, rubbed her thumb along his. “I don’t think you will. Something tells me you don’t typically make the same mistake twice,” she inferred.

He laughed a little at that, and she gave him a sweet smile, and then she said, “So, no pizza. How about Indian?”

…

They were just cleaning up the last of the take out containers when Roald made his way out of Y/N’s bedroom.

“There he is! Hey, buddy,” she cooed, leaning down to give Roald a quick pet. She gave Spencer a sheepish smile. “He takes a while to warm up to new faces, so don’t be offended if he’s not—”

She was stopped mid-sentence by Roald’s decision to make a beeline for him. The cat stopped to give a cursory sniff before weaving between Spencer’s legs, purring loud enough that they could both hear it. Her mouth dropped open a bit as he leaned down to scratch between Roald’s ears.

“He— he is never that friendly,” she said incredulously. “There really is something about you, Dr. Reid.”

He looked up at her with a smile. “I’m just glad he approves. Would have been kind of awkward otherwise.”

“He’s a very good judge of character, so that bodes well for you,” she confirmed.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer scratched underneath Roald’s chin, grinning at the contented cat. He brought his gaze back to her, standing back to his full height when he realized she’d moved… a lot closer. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he watched her eyes track the motion.

“Yeah.”

He thought back to that night nearly two months ago, the way his mouth had verged on violent when she’d kissed him. He hated that their first kiss was tainted with his foolishness, that he’d marred that memory for them both. He couldn’t take it back, and he wasn’t certain that she wanted to kiss him now, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

He brought his hands to her face and used a gentle grip to pull her in. She rested her warm palms against his waist and let her fingers dig in, holding herself steady as his lips met hers.

He kept the kiss as soft as she deserved, opening his mouth to let her in but letting her lead and take him wherever she wanted to go. Her hands slid around to his back, and she tugged him in closer. He left one hand cradling her face but moved the other to the small of her back and pulled her flush against him.

She huffed out a tiny breath against his mouth, her lips turning up in a smile that he could feel in his toes. She brought one hand up to his jaw, rubbed her thumb across his cheek and then wound her fingers into his hair. She tangled them in his curls and tugged just enough to break the kiss, pressing their foreheads together with a sigh.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’m just gonna wipe our first kiss from my memory and replace it with that one,” she murmured.

“I’m very much on board with this rewrite,” he agreed.

“Excellent.” She used the hand in his hair to pull him forward into another quick kiss. Roald made his presence known at their feet with a loud meow, pulling a laugh from both of them.

They de-tangled themselves from each other, and she ran a hand through her hair. “It’s getting late.” He nodded in agreement, although he never wanted this night to end. And then she continued, “Do you wanna, um— do you wanna stay the night? I’m sure I can find some comfy clothes that’ll fit you.”

He’d been a ship on a turbulent sea for the past two months, just barely staying afloat at times. It had been heart wrenching and nerve wracking and terrifying— and all of his own doing. And in one night, she’d anchored his vessel amongst the crashing waves. A solution kit, a hug, forgiveness, a kiss, and now this.

His racing mind came to a standstill. The near constant noise was quieted. The turbulent sea became calm, still waters.

“I’d really, really like that.”

…

Spencer ended up in an XXL t-shirt from a school fundraiser and a pair of stretchy bike shorts. Y/N had managed to scrounge up a new toothbrush from the back of the cabinet, and they brushed their teeth together with foamy smiles in the bathroom mirror.

It had taken very little convincing for Spencer to agree to share the bed. Y/N climbed in under the covers, settling back against the pillows and turning down the duvet for him to join her. He held up one finger and disappeared out into the living room, returning a minute later with the solution kit in hand. He moved to the bed, sliding in between the soft sheets and pulling up the duvet.

He leaned back against the pillows and turned toward her, opening the box. “This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me,” he admitted. “Can you, um— explain them to me? Some of them I figured out, but others— well, I just want to hear you, really.”

She scooted closer to him and leaned over to look in the box. “The first few are pretty self-explanatory. This one,” she said, pulling out a picture of her with her hands over her heart and belly, “is taking deep breaths until you’re calm and ready to try again. This one is reading a favorite book— which I know will take you about five minutes,” she joked.

She retrieved the card with the clip art book, and then the one behind it with a pencil and paper. “You can try to write down the difficult thoughts and feelings to get them out of your headspace.” The next card had a picture of an old rotary phone. “Hmmm, almost a match to the dinosaur phone you actually have,” she teased. “But it’s an option to call someone. Could be your mom, or a friend, or—”

“Or you? Could I call you?”

She looked up to find his eyes on her and smiled. “Yeah. You can call me, too.” She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, and— not for the first time that night— he could not believe how lucky he was.

She drew back to pull out the next card: a clip art rendering of a desktop computer. “Oh! This one is for researching something. I know you’ve got a seemingly endless encyclopedia of knowledge up there,” she tapped on his temple, “but there’s always something new to learn. And teaching yourself something can help you feel capable in moments where you’re feeling— a little helpless.”

There was also a small wooden puzzle cube in the box. She took it from the box and held it up in front of them. “I know your IQ will probably solve this thing in fifteen seconds, but at least it’ll be a nice fidget toy,” she laughed.

The last card in the box was a picture of a timer. “This one might seem kind of dumb, but sometimes it helps me to set a timer to remind myself that feeling shitty is a temporary state of being.” She held the card between her fingers and shrugged. “Even if I’m still feeling less than great after the timer goes off, it usually gives me the boost I need to move forward.”

She gathered all the cards in her hands, shuffling them and then placing them back in the box. “You can add your own options as you think of them. This was just a starter set.”

He closed the lid of the box and set it on the bed between them. He reached for her hand, and she immediately threaded their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb along her impossibly soft skin and took a deep breath.

“The timer isn’t dumb. I, um— I did something similar in prison.” She squeezed his hand. “I kept track of the— the days on this little spot on the wall. Every time it felt like I couldn’t take another day, I’d count the marks and remind myself that I— that I’d survived that long. That I could make it another day.”

He went quiet, and Y/N sat up a little in bed, brushed her free hand over his hair. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” It wasn’t a lie. He wanted to talk to her about it. He wanted to talk to her about everything. He wanted to let her into the shadowy corners of his mind that he kept from everyone else.

“If you’re sure, then I’m right here.” She pulled their intertwined fingers into her lap and leaned over to press a kiss to his shoulder.

When she pulled back, he let out a long breath. He watched her thumb as it traced an unwavering line across the back of his hand. “I was, um— I was in Mexico getting an experimental Alzheimer’s drug for my mom. I’d been going down there for a few months, and it wasn’t ideal, but the medication really seemed to be helping her. And I was just— I was desperate. Desperate for anything that would give me more time with her. More lucid, meaningful time, you know?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“It wasn’t the, uh— drug that got me arrested,” he admitted. “There was an unsub— one of the serial killers that we put away a few years ago— a psychopathic, narcissistic hitwoman who had this— I don’t know, vendetta against me, I guess. She, um— she manipulated another woman into drugging me and framing me for the murder of the doctor I was getting the medication from.”

He could feel her eyes on him, and he drew his brows together. “I know the— the whole thing sounds completely absurd— fictional even,” he admitted. “She used a mix of drugs called sevoflurane and scopolamine to trigger dissociation and hallucination, which made it really— um... For a long time, I couldn’t tell which of my memories were real and which were drug-induced delusions.”

He focused on the motion of her thumb against his skin. “The team got me out of the prison in Mexico, but because I went against FBI protocol when I crossed the border, the Bureau wouldn’t fund my legal representation here. Emily hired a great lawyer, but the judge was less than sympathetic. And it really, um— snowballed from there.”

He took a deep breath. “I was sent to Millburn, which is a maximum security prison, and then I didn’t get the protective custody detail, so I was in general population, but I didn’t want to hurt people or move drugs, so I got the shit kicked out of me for a while, and then my friend Luis was killed in front of me, and I—”

Spencer didn’t realize he was crying until Y/N’s hands were on his face, wiping the tears before pulling him into her arms. “A-and then I poisoned the drugs, which just ended up hurting a bunch of people who didn’t deserve to get hurt. And then I got outed as an agent, and my mom got abducted, and I stabbed myself to get put in solitary, but I wasn’t safe there either, and I really thought... I was sure I was going to die there.”

He wrapped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into her shoulder as the hurricane of his agony swirled and raged and then swept out as quickly as it rolled in. She soothed his cries and held him against her, never rushing or shushing him. Eventually, his weeping dwindled to quiet sniffles, his heaving breaths faded to drawn sighs. She kept him anchored through all of it, rocking him gently from side to side and calming his shattered frame.

When he finally quieted, she released him and pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. His chest tightened at her tear-stained cheeks, and he brought his hands up to wipe at them uselessly. When his hands fell back to his lap, she sniffled a little before taking a deep breath, releasing it on a shaky sigh.

“The choices you made kept you alive, Spencer. They were— impossible, horrific choices that I’m sure just—” She shook her head, searching for the right words. “I’m sure the weight of the guilt and grief has to be unbearable sometimes,” she surmised. “And there’s nothing I can say that will make that any less true.”

She cupped his face in her hands, swiping at the fresh tears with her thumbs. “But I’m... I’m so selfishly thankful for every choice you made. Because it was the perfect set of decisions in that it brought you here. To me…” The tears tracked hot down her cheeks, and she took a shaky breath. “And I feel so unbelievably lucky and so incredibly grateful to have you.”

He had her wrapped up in his arms before she’d even finished the sentence. “I never believed in luck,” he mused. He pressed a kiss into her hair and closed his eyes. “I’m still not sure if I do. But I can tell you that I’m the luckiest.”

———

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#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #homoose writes #lhalc #tmsidk

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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limerence [childe x gn!reader]

prompt: limerence - noun - the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings pairings: childe x gn!reader word count: 2.6k warnings: check tags for tws, but overall sfw. neither angst nor fluff. a/n: best read going in blind! :) but TWs are in tags if you’re worried. absolutely nobody requested this and this was a completely self-indulgent fic simply due to my desire to write a full scenario for childe.

the russet-haired harbinger spots you that morning, like every tuesday morning, in liyue harbor. your back is turned to him, but he can recognize your figure anywhere. he watches your shoulders and hair move with every articulated word and as the distance closes between the two of you, he can hear your frustrated words. every tuesday, you come to the market for your groceries and, every tuesday, you haggle with the shopkeeper over the price of potatoes in a rather aggressive manner.

to those unfamiliar with your antics, you and the shopkeeper are wordsmiths, crafting your weapons and going to war against each other. petty insults are thrown, ones that have no weight, a complete display of unprofessionalism on both you and the shopkeeper’s behalf. nonetheless, everyone near the two of you continues on their merry way, ignoring the spectacle unfolding before them. because, childe knows, the two of you do this every week. there’s no need for childe to intervene. not only does he know this is just friendly banter with a shopkeeper you’ve known your whole life, but, when it comes to verbal conviction, your words can sway nearly anyone. it’s just… not quite as effective on those who have known you for a majority of your life.

childe rounds the corner, two of his northland bank underlings trailing behind him. his presence unsettles the shopkeepers nearby, but you pay him no mind. now able to view you from the side, childe takes advantage of the several-meter distance between the two of you to get a good look at you. a wooden lattice basket rests in the crook of your elbows, shaking ever so slightly as you gesticulate widely, determined to win your squabble. the shopkeeper, having noticed childe’s presence from afar, blanches for a brief second, but the derisive, wide grin that crosses childe’s face at the sight notifies him that the harbinger has not yet arrived to collect his debts.

you, on the other hand, take no notice of the ginger, your eyebrows furrowing even further upon realizing something had distracted the shopkeeper. childe stifles a laugh upon seeing you snap your fingers at the man, redirecting his attention. even if you weren’t as captivating to everyone else in the way you were to childe, you still knew how to demand attention from those around you. tartaglia wishes nothing more than to wrap his arms around your waist and surprise you while you’re hard at work, mastering the art of haggling, but unfortunately for the both of you, duty called for childe as well.

harbingers had very little time to rest, but he desired to spend every free moment he has with you.

---

the harbinger pads softly into your room, his socks muffling the noise of any footsteps. it had once been a challenge for him to do such an action as your bedroom door had been quite squeaky but after fixing it once you had gone to work one day, childe was now able to join you in bed without disrupting your sleep. for the harbinger, this had been important as he knew how little sleep you got and his odd work hours would often lead to him disturbing what precious little shuteye you managed to obtain.

childe had no desire to focus on issues of the past, rather desiring to focus on you, who laid asleep and vulnerable in front of him. he lays down on the other side of your bed, making sure to shift his weight in a soft manner, not wanting this action to wake you up either. he inhales sharply upon seeing you shift in your sleep, electing to hold his breath until you settle back down. fortunately for him, it didn’t take very long and the shift in your breathing pattern let him know that you were once again deep within the forests of dreamland.

he smiles softly at you, propping his head on his hand to look at you while laying on his side. moonlight filters in, weaving through the gaps of your curtains, to softly illuminate your face -- just enough light to give tartaglia a good view of of your face and he admires the way the shadows fall upon your cheeks, the oh-so-faint shadow your eyelashes cast upon your undereyes, and the disappearance of the usual worries that plagued your face.

childe always wonders why such lines form on your face, why your brows furrow with a faint sadness and anger whenever you get lost in thought, unaware anyone is watching. he’s not sure what you have to worry about when he’s always there for you. what better protection than a fatui harbinger, especially one as skilled in battle as he?

but for now, he’s content with the peaceful expression that graces your face and elects to softly brush a loose strand of your hair away from your face. while it was amusing to watch it shift with each breath you took, childe figured you’d be more comfortable if there were no hindrances to your sleep. Nonetheless, he traces a finger from the back of your ear and down your jawline, admiring the feel of your skin under his featherlight touch. i’ve been considerate enough with your sleep, he thinks. please forgive me for letting me indulge myself with you this once.

he leans over, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. tartaglia’s heart swells as he sees your lips subtly twitch in response to his gesture of love. if he can bring you happiness even within your dreams, then his duty is fulfilled. while his body is sworn to the will of the tsaritsa and his brain sworn to the protection of his family, his heart is bound to yours in an unbreakable oath, for you have locked it within your grasp and thrown away the key.

despite you whisking away all hope for the harbinger to fall in love with someone else, tartaglia wouldn’t change it for a thing, for you were the one he truly desired. he had always been bad at telling you such things during the day, but when the night coated the two of you in her blanket of darkness, tartaglia would feel the words spill from his mouth in murmured poems, trying to accurately describe how he felt about you. he was happy with such events, as the two of you communicated best within the comforting familiarity of the night’s shadows.

---

tartaglia watches, hidden in the shadows of your hallway, as you dance around the kitchen, cooking yourself some saturday morning pancakes for breakfast. you’re singing to yourself, sliding around the slick floor in your socks as you pretend you’re a world-famous idol. in your fantasies the world is your oyster, but, more importantly, the spatula in your hands is your microphone. you’re belting out the words to a song childe recognizes to be your favorite.

he doesn’t enter the kitchen, afraid of causing you to be mortified that he caught you doing such a thing, and instead leans against the wall, appreciating your singing. these vulnerable states is when childe realizes he truly loves you. the way your eyes sparkle with delight at the thought of entertaining massive audiences, yet your goofy grin still remaining as you pause your chaotic set of songs to flip the pancakes, is a sight the harbinger wouldn’t trade for the world.

however, this vulnerability worries childe. he’s not always around to protect you and he knows how irresistible you are in his eyes, so the harbinger can’t help but worry what misfortune would fall upon you if someone nefarious set their sights upon you. the tsaritsa won’t always have him stationed in liyue, so if you are in danger, it will take longer for him to come rescue you. such thoughts cloud his mind easily, but in moments like these, tartaglia also embraces his love for you, for he knows that if you were not remarkable, these thoughts would not plague his mind. you are like a small animal, precious to those who see the value in you, but fresh meat for those wanting to slaughter.

as you dance within the confines of your abode, childe secludes himself from your vision, wishing to allow you to explore your reveries in peace. he wishes not to taint the innocent moments he wishes he could still have and instead chooses to stand watch over you, protecting from the shadows of the hallway as you glide around in the radiant, warm sunlight, for he is your knight and you are the royalty in the tower he must defend until his last breath.

---

tuesday rolls around again and the harbor is bustling more than it was last week. childe watches as you weave through the crowd, empty basket in tow, ready to begin your weekly tuesday morning routine of bartering with your favorite quarrelsome shopkeeper. the shopkeeper quickly notices you and the two of you exchange friendly greetings, before immediately launching into this week’s point of contention: tomato prices.

however, it’s different for childe this week. today, he is not bound by the will of the tsaritsa, a rare lull in his usually ceaseless obligations to the throne. for today, the harbinger has a day off and he wishes to spend it with the person he loves most. a nervousness swells in his chest. tartaglia had not told you that he had been granted with spare time and he feared your reaction upon learning this news. would delivering the news end in rejection and you being angered that he’s intruding upon your free time, not having notified you of such an event earlier on? no, he chastises himself. i know you, you would never do such a thing.

he navigates through the crowd with ease, noting how those who are aware of his reputation within the town easily make way for him to get through. but today, he arrives not as a harbinger, but as the man who loves you most. he sneaks up behind you as you barter, relishing in the fact that you remain blissfully unaware to his presence.

“i think you should lower the price of each tomato by 10 mora!” you insist. the shopkeeper opens his mouth to reply, but closes his mouth and gives a nervous smile, noticing the man that stood behind you. tartaglia smiles sardonically at the man as you stare at the shopkeeper, confused by the sudden mellowing of his attitude.

“how much are tomatoes going for?” childe asks, interrupting the conversation. your eyes widen upon realizing someone else is perusing the same stall and you turn to look at the man that towers over you.

“one-hundred and twenty mora each,” the shopkeeper responds, doing his best to keep his voice level in the presence of the fatui harbinger.

“ah,” childe responds, lifting an arm up to scratch the back of his head. “no wonder you’re being haggled with! do you think you could drop the price to 50 mora for my companion here?” the words exit his mouth as a question, but one laced with a firm resolve that only demanded for the shopkeeper to comply with his words.

“y’know, i’m feeling pretty gracious today,” the shopkeeper stammers, eyes flitting between you and the man behind you as you watch the interaction, bewildered by the shopkeeper’s change in tune when it came to pricing. “how about i sell the tomatoes to you, forty mora each?”

you stare at the shopkeeper, mouth falling open in shock. “r... really?” you squeak with a hint of excitement to your voice, before pausing to think about the situation. “that’s quite generous of you, are you sure you can handle such pricing?”

the shopkeeper’s eyes dart to childe and the harbinger crosses his arms and nods at the shopkeeper with a pressed smile, narrowed eyebrows, and folded arms while nodding his head slowly up and down. in return, the shopkeeper nods his head quickly.

“of course! think of it as a reward for being a frequent customer!” the shopkeeper insists, all while you’re oblivious to his sweating of bullets at childe’s presence. he hurriedly hands you the tomatoes you desired. “thank you for being a fantastic customer!”

“oh!” you state, shocked, but taking the tomatoes and placing them in your basket.

childe drops the malicious expression and instead beams a toothy grin at the shopkeeper, his intimidating aura all but dropped. “thank you for cooperating, sir! i’ll be quite sure to take note of such generous deeds!”

the shopkeeper, seemingly understanding that he’s been reprieved of having to deal with childe’s presence, lets out a long exhale of relief before turning to sell to another customer. as you situate the produce you purchased in your basket, you realize that your produce pricing hero is about to turn away and you can’t let him escape without thanking him!

“w... wait!” you say, tugging on childe’s sleeve. he turns back and looks at you with a mischievous, knowing smirk.

“oh?” he asks coyly.

“thank you!” you state, briefly clasping your hands around one of his as a gesture of appreciation. “that was amazing! i’ve never been able to purchase tomatoes for such an inexpensive price before!”

childe revels in your kind words and praise. he shouldn’t take pride in such a frivolous thing, but the way you stare at him, eyes blown wide with adoration and awe, causes his heart to skip a few beats faster. as your sworn protector, such actions should only be routine for him, but seeing you bat your eyelashes at him and ignite his skin as you brush your fingertips over it makes him want to evoke any and all forms of praise about him that he can get out of your mouth.

however, his daydreams and desires come to a screeching halt after you utter your next few words.

“i have to ask, what’s your name? i’ve never seen you around here before?” you say excitedly, eager to get to know the harbinger.

his cheerful mood falters for a brief moment as he’s forced to face reality. despite all of the nights he’s spent with you, all of the favors he’s done for you, all of the times he’s watched over you, the two of you had never truly spoken. as a cool oceanic breeze brushes over the two of you, childe holds back a shiver of discomfort as he’s faced with the reality that he loves you far more than you love him, that he knows far more of you than you know of him, for the knight protecting the tower is always a stranger to the royalty sheltered within.

despite the fact that you bring him to his knees, you have no idea of the effect you have on the harbinger, for the two of you have never exchanged words until this moment. all of childe’s declarations of love to you have been one-sided, whether it be words or actions. his resolve is shaken to the core, but, in a split second, he steels himself and returns the smile to his face, for what good is a knight who gives up when faced with reality?

“i’m tartaglia, but you can call me childe, if you prefer,” he croons, extending a hand out to you for a handshake.

as you grasp his hand firmly and shake in return, childe isn’t sure if he ever wants to let you go.

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cheegu3 · 3 years

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~ Yandere Jaemin - The jester ~

[hi babies, this is one part of my nct fairytale series this one based on Alice in wonderland with jaemin <3, it had influence from both the original book and the book by marissa meyer centred in the universe + a lil of my own stuff]

I love alice in wonderland and jaemin so I’m so sorry how long this is lmao also yes I did write all of this on the same day ;-;

wc: 3.6k

summary : you live in wonderland, and everything is normal until a stranger shows up - a jester who says he’s looking for you, he seems innocent and sweet but is he really?

TW / trigger warning: yandere themes, mentions of - violence, murder, swearing, blood/gore, 18+ (suggestive), etc

The yearly mock festival was coming to an end. Humans and creatures alike were slowly making their way to the stairs and to the comfort of their homes. A stranger was also making their way over but not to his home, to the crowd. He slipped through it unnoticed and stopped, bowing in front of the queen.

She looked at him in curiosity but also in fascination. He was very much used to this, having people stare at his beauty and the way he presented himself - elegant and cocky.

‘‘ My majesty. I come to seek refuge in your town ‘‘ the stranger said.

The queen raised her eyebrow at him and waved at the deck of cards close by, almost stumbling over their own feet in fear of displeasing the queen.

‘‘ Show this gorgeous stranger that empty house ‘‘ the queen demanded to the cards in a shrill voice.

‘‘ Yes ma’am. Come this way! ‘‘ they answered in union.

The stranger followed them in silence but kept his distance. They went far and near, up and down the crossroads and curvy paths until they reached a small cottage. It was far from the other houses and the village but he liked it immediately.

‘‘ Here we are sir! ‘‘ the cards exclaimed in union again and turned like robots ready to go back the way they came and serve the queen, it was all they knew after all.

‘‘ Excuse me ‘‘ the stranger had had one thing and one thing only on his mind throughout the whole trip there.

The reason he was here in the first place

You

‘‘ Do you happen to know where...y/n is? ‘‘

The deck of cards looked baffled, one of them even chuckled.

‘‘ y/n? Why would you want to see her sir, she’s so very eh- ‘‘ one said

‘‘ -mad ‘‘ another filled in.

‘‘ Who are you anyway? ‘‘ said another

‘‘ Jaemin, I’m a jester from far far away ‘‘ he said with clenched teeth, growing impatient at the lack of answer he was getting.

‘‘ Why would you like to see her? ‘‘ said one

‘‘ She’s not special ‘‘ said yet another

‘‘ I have to ‘‘ he said firmly and was now clenching his fist.

‘‘ She’s not far from here sir. She lives in the cottage opposite this forest ‘‘ said one card with cloves on his front.

‘‘ Thank you ‘‘ Jaemin exclaimed in relief and watched as the deck of cards turned and walked down the path.

On the outside it looked like an old cottage like any other, with broken windows and an overgrown garden. The jester wasn’t surprised, they must’ve given him the most ugly and worn out house since he was still a stranger but with a few snaps of his fingers, the inside would look a lot better than the outside.

As he had finished snapping his fingers three times he saw the familiar white cloud in the window but before he walked in he had to check around the area. He thought he heard the rustling of leaves and twigs being broken.

Looking to his right, he saw in the distance how a girl was walking towards him. Instinctively his heart started to beat faster because what if it was you? The girl was wearing a dress which was blue and she had a white apron tightly wrapped around her which was full of flour. In her right hand she was holding a basket filled with something and her hair shone bright in the sunlight that was peeking through the thick trees above.

// YOUR POV //

You were just about to walk past your favourite abandoned cabin when you noticed, it was no longer abandoned. A handsome young man, about the same age as yourself was standing outside it. You being all alone though, this far out from other people made you scared so you kept your head down right when you passed by him.

‘‘ Hey! ‘‘ you sighed in disappointment, all too often creepy men or creatures would try to stop you and flirt which made you very uncomfortable.

You tried to put on a fake smile before you turned to face him.

‘‘ Hi! ‘‘

‘‘ You’re y/n ‘‘ he stated.

You probably looked very confused to the stranger. How did he know your name? In this wide land, you were a nobody and this random man you just stumbled upon seems to know who you are - by the look of his curious brown eyes studying you - maybe he even knew everything about you.

‘‘ Yes..sir. Can I help you? ‘‘ you asked hesitantly and wanted to punch yourself for sounding so small and helpless.

The boy took some time to answer, suddenly looking a bit nervous the way he fumbled with his hands.

‘‘ Oh, I just. I’m your new neighbour, Jaemin. The cards said I might meet a young woman here who lived close by ‘‘

Shit, you were really too paranoid sometimes, this was just a harmless boy who had moved in right next to you.

‘‘ Oh! Yes of course ‘‘ you smiled at him with more genuine warmth now

‘‘ Welcome to the neighbourhood then I suppose ‘‘

They boy nodded and chuckled. He was very attractive, and you were pretty sure he knew it. Tall, dark and handsome with puppy like brown eyes and fluffy hair. He had a defined nose and rosy lips that matched his smooth and beautiful skin. But the most attractive thing about him, to you, was the way he carried himself.

That smile could just about make any girl fall for him, maybe even worship him. As he stood there looking at you become entranced with his beauty you began to wonder if he was using magic on you so you put your guard up again slightly.

‘‘ Thank you. I hope to see you around, where do you work? ‘‘ he asked and you almost bit your lip at the look he was giving you, it was very intense and his smile yet again so charming.

‘‘ Oh! ‘‘ you exclaimed suddenly, you had forgotten to answer and had just stared at him getting completely lost. You saw him smirking at this.

‘‘ I-I work at the bakery in town, hence- ‘‘ you gestured to your flour dusted apron and dress with a sad smile.

He laughed heartily but assured you,

‘‘ You look fine, trust me ‘‘

You smiled shyly in response. It felt like he was kind of flirting, he was giving you that look again that both turned you on and made you creeped out, it said

I know everything about you

Nevertheless if that was the case, you felt very much intrigued with this new stranger and you didn’t want him to be a stranger for long.

‘‘ I suppose I’ll see you around then ‘‘ you said suddenly when the tension had built up even more and you started remembering all the responsibilities you had at your work.

It felt like you had been here for about an hour and you had muffins to bake and customers to please.

‘‘ I suppose you will ‘‘ he answered with an amused glint in his eyes.

You decided to turn even though your body and heart really wanted to stay. Your intuition and head however won over the battle inside you and told you to get the fuck away from him.

You kept your back turned as you made you way past the mysterious boy. You had a feeling that he was still watching you as you went, eyes never leaving you and it freaked you out a little, making you shudder.

The rest of the day went on as if it was like any other day. Tons of baking and getting your hands dirty, chatty customers and delicious desserts. By the end of the long workday your muscles were aching. You cleaned up and did your usual routine of locking up the store when everyone had left.

Usually you wouldn’t think twice about walking home in the dark, your bakery closed at midnight so it was way past sunset. It was practically pitch black outside and no one was on the streets, they were all at home probably sound asleep. For some reason the queen had decided that all houses be soundproof in the village. So the fear was increasing when you thought about the stranger, the dark and walking home alone because if something happened no one would help you - they wouldn’t hear you scream or hear you cry out for help.

You turned the key that locked the bakery with shaky hands but tried to compose yourself. You had a very odd and naive thought in your head,

If I don’t get attacked tonight I can trust Jaemin

It truly didn’t make any sense but just about every cell in your body wanted to trust him, and wanted him to like you, like the way you were so attracted to him.

‘‘ y/n? ‘‘ a voice behind you said interrupting your thoughts.

You shrieked and jumped in surprise, throwing your arms up in some pathetic attempt at defence in case you’d need it.

‘‘ It’s just me, your neighbour ‘‘

You lowered your arms and smiled at him apologetically.

‘‘ Sorry ‘‘

‘‘ Don’t be I get it. It’s dark, no one’s around and I just startled you like that, I should be the one to apologise ‘‘

‘‘ No no, it’s just that I don’t like walking home in the dark ‘‘ you assured him, now feeling really guilty.

‘‘ I can walk you home ‘‘ he offered with a friendly smile.

You were silent for a bit, thinking to yourself before making up your mind.

‘‘ Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you ‘‘ you returned back the smile even though you still felt a bit uncomfortable.

Jaemin joined your side and waited for you to step away from the shop and decide the pace.

You walked in silence beside each other. You felt a bit nervous, not really being sure if you were supposed to start a conversation or not but then it dawned upon you, why the fuck was he alone there in the village anyway?

You glanced at him quickly to see if it would give you a clue to this mystery but he looked as he always did, nothing was different. So you decided to drop it and thankfully you didn’t have much more time to overthink about it because your house had now appeared in sight.

He still had a chance to take you if he wanted to, it was dark, quiet and no neighbours were close except for well...conveniently enough, him. But he didn’t. He kept his distance all the way up to the house and stepped back when you got up on the porch.

‘‘ Thank you ‘‘

‘‘ My pleasure miss ‘‘ he said with the same amused glint in his eyes.

You turned around and walked in, closing the door and locking it. Well inside you leaned on the door allowing yourself to calm down a bit.

He didn’t do anything

You shrugged and went upstairs, getting ready for bed and falling asleep not long after your head touched the pillow.

The next day he was the first thing you thought about in the morning before you jumped to your feet and rushed to put on your clothes and get to work.

You broke into a sprint constantly mumbling fuck to yourself and basically bursting in the bakery. The few customers inside and the cashier you had hired looked at you in shock.

You stopped for a bit to catch your breath before explaining, still out of breath to the cashier.

‘‘ The-Ball-I-Have-To-Bake ‘‘ you managed to press out between every breath.

The cashier gasped and immediately left the desk.

‘‘ I’ll bring you the ingredients ‘‘

You swallowed and nodded to the customers when you walked past them disappearing into the back room where you did your magic.

You put down your stuff and put on your apron already in action when the cashier came in, put the ingredients on the table and hurried out again.

You ended up making several pastries and cakes to the queen’s liking and by the end - about six hours of straight baking, you were so exhausted you decided not to go to the ball.

The cashier peeked her head in about an hour before it was to start.

‘‘ I’ll send these up? ‘‘ she walked up to the finished products and you just nodded at her, drying off the sweat that had formed on your forehead.

After that you spent the rest of the hour leading up to the ball cleaning up all the mess you had created.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You sighed, it was already closed but you have had to deal with customers knocking anyway wanting treats when you weren’t open. You put down your cleaning supplies and hurried to the door. Through the glass door you saw the outline of your neighbour.

‘‘ Jaemin? ‘‘

He shook his head and tutted at your state when you opened the door.

‘‘ Do I really look that bad? ‘‘ you said and glanced down quickly.

‘‘ For a ball, yes. Otherwise, no you look exceptional ‘‘ he said

You snorted at his flirty comment.

‘‘ I’m not going, too busy ‘‘

‘‘ What? No way. I won’t let that happen ‘‘

You turned to face him again, having walked up behind the desk to count today’s money. He leaned over the desk and tried to give you his puppy eyes.

‘‘ I can’t go like this Jaemin, sorry ‘‘ you said and shrugged your shoulders.

He scrunched his nose and stopped trying to use his puppy eyes on you now.

‘‘ I have magic ‘‘ he tilted his head when he saw this caught your attention.

‘‘ Really? You’re a jester? ‘‘ you rolled your eyes.

‘‘ What, is it not cool enough for miss or something? ‘‘ he jumped over the counter effortlessly and was now standing very close to you, closer than he’d ever been before.

They way he was towering over you basically looking down on you made you chuckle unexpectedly.

‘‘ Yeah sure it’s cool enough I guess ‘‘ you answered playfully attempting to push him out the way so you could walk past.

He put his arm out, not letting you.

‘‘ Do you use it a lot on the ladies? ‘‘ you added and held the eye-contact

He snickered and made a very cute expression which made your heart melt.

‘‘ Of course. Every time ‘‘ he said sarcastically ‘‘ Now, will you let me ‘‘ he waved to your messy state.

‘‘ I guess why not ‘‘ you said and closed your eyes.

When it was silent for a few seconds you opened them again and you saw white clouds surrounding you all around, when it had cleared and disappeared completely you could finally see his work.

You were wearing a champagne coloured silk dress that was quite tight at the top with spaghetti straps and flowed out at the bottom, highlighting your curves. Looking at you hands, they as well were polished and clean and you hair was in a sleek ponytail, feeling as if it had been washed.

‘‘ I’m impressed ‘‘ you said at last when you noticed his worried expression, anxiously waiting for your opinion.

He exhaled deeply.

‘‘ Thank god ‘‘

You giggled at his cuteness.

‘‘ Shall we go? ‘‘

‘‘ Certainly ‘‘ he answered and extended his arm for you to take.

The walk this time was also pretty quiet, the castle wasn’t too far away you could already see it from here but you just couldn’t help yourself,

‘‘ Hey Jaemin? ‘‘

‘‘ Yeah ‘‘

‘‘ What were you doing so late at night in the village yesterday? ‘‘

Although you didn’t look at him, you could feel him get a bit uncomfortable.

‘‘ Browsing I guess ‘‘ it was your turn to feel uncomfortable now, all the stores closed a lot earlier than your bakery and everyone in town knew that but he hastily added, ‘‘ The villagers told me your bakery closed very late so I thought I’d go by and buy something. Unfortunately it was closed though ‘‘ he laughed and looked down shyly when you looked at him in surprise.

‘‘ Why’s that, horrible sweet-tooth? ‘‘ you said

‘‘ No, just wanted to support my neighbour. That’s all ‘‘

You nodded and felt a bit guilty for being suspicious of him. If your guards hadn’t been down before they sure were now, basically in hell. You felt incredibly comfortable and at ease with Jaemin and you did for a moment think you were starting to fall in love with him.

This feeling would arise again when you had finally reached the castle and were greeted by the white rabbit.

‘‘ Invitations and names please ‘‘ he said in a stressed voice, his eyes all the time looking back and forth, darting between guests.

The jester gave the rabbit one of his charming smiles and you watched as he interacted with other people, even that was attractive, god what was wrong with you?

He fixed everything for the two of you, showing both of your invitations and names and you leant back letting someone else do the work for the first time in your life. It was nice, this weird feeling of being taken cared of.

He took your hand when the rabbit let you through and he lead you towards the dessert table. You raised your eyebrow at him when he started basically inhaling entire pastries of yours.

‘‘ I have to see how talented you are ‘‘ he defended himself when he saw your judging look.

You rolled your eyes and waited for him to finish, eyeing the other guests as you did. When he finally was done - after eating half the table you noticed - he dragged you out on the dance floor.

It was a slow song. You gave him a shy look, not sure if you wanted him to see how much you liked loved him or for onlookers to see that either for that matter. But he insisted, pulling you close to him and starting to rock slowly to the beat of the music. He gave you a big childish grin and you laughed, starting to move as well and letting you be drowned in this feeling.

It felt like it truly was just you and him in this world, and he would protect you and love you forever. He could do you no harm, he was amazing.

You probably radiated these feelings through the lovingly eyes you were giving him and he looked at you the same way. Everyone else faded away and it felt like you were in a fairytale, just how magical it all felt...until it didn’t,

The music was abruptly stopped and murmuring filled the hall. You didn’t have the energy to worry about it so you leaned your head again Jaemin’s chest feeling sleepy. In the distance through your dazed eyes you saw the white rabbit approach you, until he wasn’t very blurry anymore, he was clear and right in front of you clearing his throat.

‘‘ Miss you need to come with me right now ‘‘ the rabbit said in a shaky voice.

‘’ Hm? ‘‘ you said sleepily not yet leaving Jaemin’s arms.

‘‘ What’s going on? ‘‘ Jaemin said in a worriedly.

‘‘ It’s uh, something very terrible has happened to her parents sir ‘‘ the rabbit looked down on the ground under the intense stare of the jester.

‘‘ Let’s go, y/n ‘‘ he whispered to you gently and took your hand.

You had no idea what was going on but followed like a lost puppy. The rabbit lead you to a carriage which you were put in and sent off. It stopped outside your parents house, a mansion closer to Jaemin’s house than it was your own - on the outskirts of town.

‘‘ Wait here. I’ll see what’s wrong ‘‘ he said and stepped out.

Your head felt heavy, like you’d fall into eternal sleep any minute now - that’s how tired you felt, like you hadn’t slept for decades.

‘‘ y/n dear? ‘‘ the carriage door opened again and two hands extended to take your weight. You walked up to it, staggering and let yourself be lifted down.

Everything was a bit blurry but you could make out the familiar outline of your parents on the ground. They were in front of their front door and they didn’t seem to be moving. Blood was flowing out from their necks and their limbs were twisted in weird, unnatural angles.

This must’ve been the terrible thing the rabbit had been talking about...

You tried to walk towards your parents but your foot hit something. You looked down and jumped back in surprise. It was another body, no - you looked around, it was several bodies of the guards.

‘‘ What happened to them? ‘‘ you asked Jaemin in a horrified voice.

‘‘ I don’t know ‘‘ he said and bit his lip, lowering his raised right hand and entwining his left one with yours.

‘‘ Look at me y/n ‘‘

You turned to look at him, starting to feel a bit overwhelmed and scared of everything going on. You felt crazy, like you had no idea what was real and what wasn’t.

‘‘ You and I, we’re gonna live together. Far far away from here and we will be happy forever because you love me right? Say it! ‘‘ he roared the last words but you weren’t scared. You just looked at him with loving eyes.

‘‘ I love you ‘‘ you said like a robot,

completely entranced

you were his

forever

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