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wandabear · 2 years

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Finders Keepers (but keeps it forever) - Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf F!Reader Summary: Wanda and Reader finally find a way to be together, but an awful incident will change R's life completely, forcing R to disappear and leave everything she ever loved.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ CHAPTER ONE ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Pine Barrens, New Jersey. ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The dryness on her lips remained; she blinked fast trying to get used to the light that now made her eyes itch unbearably.

But that uncomfortable and annoying feeling could not be compared to the dry texture in her hands. The red spread across her hands, digging into her fingernails. Dead carmine red. The blood, on her hands, on her chest, on her lips.

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Little by little, Y/N regained control of her body, if she still owned it.

The ground was rough and harsh, the woman grunted as she got up from it but some warmth in one of her hands as she leaned against it didn't seem right.

The next thing in front of her was something unreal, wishing she had been dreaming, she was in a cabin, some kind of abandoned cabin.

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The ground was covered in blood and huge claw marks, as if something ripped through it with colossal strength. But not just that, but also bloody hand marks, as if someone else tried to escape, and something dragged they into the next room with violence.

Y/N paled even more, as if that were possible. The dryness on her lips got worse, her hands trembled again.

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She got up and noticed the nudity on her body, something disconcerting. How long was she asleep? Why? Where was she? Why was she naked? Y/N stroked her legs, terrified at the thought that crossed her mind. Something dark and scary.

As she could, the woman got up to find something to wear. Only found a huge jacket and cargo pants so big, they clearly didn't belong to her, but still took them. It looked like a humble home, a… nice place.

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Until she realized that the windows were sealed with wood, so that nothing could come out.

Terrifying thoughts and a shiver ran down her spine.

Outside you could hear the birds singing and the cozy silence, perhaps the breeze moving the tops of the trees. The woods maybe? What was she doing there?

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The last thing she remembered was...

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“Think, Y/N, think.” She said to herself, rubbing her head in desperation. Y/N closed her eyes and tried with all her might to find something in her memories. An answer.

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She remembered a friendly smile, a look full of hope and happy laughter. A girl's hand was dragging her among the people, they were looking for something... something... but what were they looking for?

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It was night.

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It was a Fair. It was some kind of event… a food Fair, carnival rides, food trucks.

Y/N wrinkled her nose, remembering the strong smell of the meat roasting with the beer. She remembered drunken laughter, dancing to Irish music. The dark haired woman sank back into that memory, remembering the pleasant warmth when she felt the girl's hand.

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“Wanda.” The soft voice, creating an eternal echo in her mind and in her heart.

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“Come on! You have to try this…” Such a lovely voice and a slight foreign accent, possibly from central-southeast Europe. She took her hand and entwined her fingers in such a… intimate way.

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As if it were a first date.

Oh, Wanda.

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ㅤㅤ ㅤFLASHBACK

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“I’m telling you. Saturday is one of the best days of the week.” Y/N said as they got out of that car together after parking outside the huge event tent.

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"That's not what I asked, Y/N/N!" Wanda pouted. People laughed and chatted, walking together towards the entrance of that big fair . Apparently this time it was celebrated outside of New Jersey.

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“Are you going to tell me where you brought me? Forests are kinda romantic, but not at night...” Wanda asked curiously as she looked around her with some excitement, but once they reached the huge tent welcoming everyone, she opened her mouth in surprise. “Is it a fair?”

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“It's a Fair, yes, but a special one. It’s a Festival de Colectividades.” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

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“A… what?” She asked, so enchanted with that spanish accent. Y/N giggled.

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Just wait… You're going to love this." Y/N said with a smile.

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Specifically, year after year during that month, some events, sports tournaments, some symbolic landings were held, celebrating the “Festival of the Immigrant Communities”, where everyone could taste the exquisite meals of each country, made by the members of the different communities of the world.

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“Y/N… This is so…” The Sokovian tried to say something more, but she just nodded happily, smiling, taking that girl's hand to enter the fair.

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They walked around and tasted many delicious dishes from different cultures. Between the spicy 'chilaquiles' and roast beef tacos, they both came out laughing and exclaiming how spicy they had been. Then they had shawarma, a small bowl of Vareniki, as well as a delicious strawberry cake from the kind people of Poland.

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But the best of all was when almost at the end, they arrived at the food trucks of Central and Eastern Europe.

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“Oh my… is this?” She turned to see Y/N, quite moved. A small truck, very nice and pleasant, honoring Sokovia.

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"Yeah." She smiled a bit smug. "I planned this a bit."

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"Thank you. This is so… so important to me. I don't know what to say morethan thank you.” She seemed emotional, and that was all Y/N wanted. See her happy, excited, complete.

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“Come on! You have to try this…” Wanda exclaimed with excitement and that slight Sokovian accent that drove her crazy. She took Y/N’s hand and entwined her fingers in such a… intimate way.

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“What is this?” Y/N asked a bit curious, frowning but smiling, seeing how Wanda paid for it and approached her, sniffing the delicious smell of the food.

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“Chicken Paprikash.” The green-eyed girl said proudly. “My mom used to cook this for me and Pietro when we were kids.”

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“Smells pretty good.” Y/N admitted as the Sokovian cut up a piece of chicken and then brought it to her lips, in a playful way, even blowing on it a bit so she wouldn't burn her lips. Oh, she knew how to be lovely.

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“This is more than good, Wands. It's delicious.” Y/N exclaimed, somewhat surprised but happy to see Wanda fangirling too, like an cute child. After that, Wanda cut a piece of chicken to bring to her own lips, she closed her eyes enjoying the taste as if it were the first time.

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“Oh… It smells like home. Do you know that feeling? The one where… you feel comfortable and happy, where everything is fine.” The green eyes of that girl shone with a certain melancholy. Y/N knew perfectly well how much Wanda missed Sokovia, but also understood that her parents wanted a better life for her and her twin brother.

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And yes, she knew that feeling perfectly. It was her.

Y/N felt dazed and bewitched by that woman since she met her. Wanda, a beautiful, smart, kind and humble woman. Wanda had always been there for her, to listen, to understand her.

She never judged her, even when she – in a very babbling way – asked her out.

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Her heart had been beating for Wanda Maximoff since that fall where they finally met, a gray and awful day where Y/N decided to have a latte and a donut, and found the love of her life.

Now she was in front of her, those eyes full of tenderness. Holding a small bowl of Chicken paprikash in one hand, and her whole heart in the other.

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“You look beautiful, Wanda.” The brunette whispered back, as if her lips decided to speak for her without even warning.

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“You flatter me. Tell me more…” Oh. That smile on Wanda's lips made her heart skip a beat again, but she didn't say anything else. They just kept walking together, finishing that delicious dish and discovering new trucks, sharing some jokes while they saw a very dumb man -an asshole - trying to prove that he was the strongest guy in the place, competing to win a huge stuffed animal... and come third, because the first had been won by a girl half his size.

Or laugh together while dancing hand in hand with the Irish, drinking a delicious green beer to the beat of Celtic music.

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“Tonight has been really amazing.” Wanda whispered, resting her head on the brunette's shoulder.

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They were sitting on the hood of Y/N’s car, enjoying the lights of the fair and the fireworks that were beginning to light up the sky. The bright colors reflected on their faces, contrasting with the darkness of the forest behind them.

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Y/N turned to see her. Oh, that beautiful woman. Just look at her.

Those big green eyes that sparkled as if she were the most precious object on earth. Her lips, her nose. Those little birthmarks.

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“I think I'm… I think I'm crazy about you” Y/N confessed without further ado, making Wanda turn to look at her. There was nothing that interested her more right now than hearing those words. “I'm in love with you, Wanda… since I met you. I know maybe it's… well, I don't know how to define it. I don't know whether to say it's fast, because we've known each other for a long time. But I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

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Wanda Maximoff, that woman who drove her crazy since she started college, the dumb freshman year. Y/N was studying to be a Biologist while Wanda studied and worked at the coffee shop near campus.

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The tension between the two became tangible, the silence and the fireworks in front of them.

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“That's good…” Wanda finally broke the silence, almost like a sigh. Maybe they weren't the words Y/N expected and she could tell, yet she knew it could be worse. A bit dissapointed, Y/N just turned to watch the fireworks show, happy to at least be able to drop all that weight. She can release all the truth inside of her.

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“Because I'm in love with you too.” added Wanda with a tender smile, making Y/N look at her again, this time with a look full of hope.

And without further ado, her lips came together in perfect harmony. Such a unique caress, like that first time... that first kiss that ended up sealing a unique moment and a love that would undoubtedly be memorable. And forever. Just one kiss was all it took to seal the future.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ NOW

That night. The night of the Fair, just outside of town.

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But as if a huge black storm cloud had settled over her, a horrible scream in her memories made her to widen her eyes in shock and horror.

The screams of pain. Eyes full of sorrow and fear.

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The girl walked through the cabin ready to take any kind of supply, her phone, find out where the heck she was and quickly walk away when another memory came to her.

The big forest.

Something in the dark, moving, crouching under the light of the huge full moon. The growls and the sound of her teeth gnawing through bone and skin.

Something was devouring a body beneath the trees, biting and growling like a scavenger.

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It was normal in a place like this, there were wild animals in the forest but... something ended up completely terrifying her. Those eyes…

Dangerous reddish eyes.

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“Oh my god.” She said to herself, panicking but a sharp stabbing pain forced her to stop.

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Her headache was killing her, how is it possible to remember something while feeling so bad?

Y/N walked to one of the doors ready to go but when she opened it, just found that it was sealed, as if it were a trap door. Silver chains hung on the wall. What the hell was that place?

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Falling into despair and rubbing her temple, she walked to another of the doors, her legs so wobbly she feared she would fall. Y/N held on to the doorknob and as she opened it all the way, but what she saw… Believe me, it made her blood run cold.

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The light in the room was flickering, making that image even more chilling and creepier.

Y/N held onto the door to keep from falling and made a supernatural effort to not vomit in front of that devastating landscape.

In that blood-soaked room, three completely mangled bodies lay on the floor.

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The walls marked with bloody hands, broken glass and blood everywhere.

She had never seen anything like it.

She had seen blood and bodies at her college practices, but this scene was… heartbreaking.

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And perhaps because deep down, deep down in her heart, something inside told her that it was her. It was her fault.

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The dark haired woman couldn't even allow herself to cry or even walk, she could only back away until a movement in the room made her jump. A man who was hiding left the room completely terrified, crashing against her body desperately, looking around as if he feared something was following him.

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“Where I am? Who are you?” Y/N asked, but the man didn't say anything. He seemed more worried about something around him, so paranoid that when the guy saw Y/N, walked away ready to hit her if she came near.

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The man stammered a few words in spanish, something she managed to understand.

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“Do you understand me? Where are we? ¿Dónde estamos?” She repeated, but the man just continued to babble so fast. He looked so hurt and paranoid.

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“Señor… do you have a phone? I lost mine... I'm a doctor, I won't hurt you, sir.”

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But the man screamed again, this time more desperately, shaking his head as if nothing else mattered. All he did was run to the third door and finally open it, but before crossing the threshold he pointed to the bodies and said: “Go away, there’s a beast here. Among us. Run.”

And he was right, there was a beast. An awful one.

A huge beast inside her; Y/N felt her heart pounding, beating even faster. Almost in an abnormal way.

Was this a punishment? She finally brought her hand to her neck and could feel the scar, deep, fresh. Her neck, part of her jaw.

If she were to run away right now, she wouldn't have enough strength to hold on. She wouldn't go far, because the beast would always be with her.

Inside.

The landscape blurred, her mind didn't seem to keep still. All those voices over and over, chasing her for the rest of her life. Like a haunting promise.

Y/N hugged herself, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the car window.

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“Y/N?” A female voice caught her attention, a husky one. Her best friend, Yelena Belova, was driving the car on the rainy day. The blonde seemed quite worried, her best friend was shocked, bloodied and wearing clothes that weren't hers. None of this seemed right.

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Yelena came when Y/N called her from a gas station on the road near the Pine Barrens. Her shaking voice made Yelena leave the warm bed she shared with her beloved, and ran to her friend as soon as she could.

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Y/N just kept silent. The road was endless.

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“Y/N? Are you going to tell me what happened there?” Yelena insisted once more. “We can go to the police station, Natasha can help you and-”

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“No.” That was sharp. “I don't want the police involved in this.” Y/N finally spoke, a little scared maybe. No one could or should know about all this.

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"Y/N, you've been missing for a fucking month... The police should know."

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"What?" Her lips trembled again, terrified. How was that possible?

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"I haven't heard from you since the night at the fair, remember? That was a month ago!" Yelena frowned, even more confused and worried. "What happened? I talked to Wanda, she said that you left alone that night… She was worried too."

“I…” Y/N hesitated. "I don't know. I don't-"

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“Y/N? Please, tell me…” she reached out to take her friend's hand, but Y/N jerked it away in fear.

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Y/N gulped. “Please, just take me home.”

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Somewhat doubtful, Yelena was about to contradict her but the brunette looked up from her. Pleading, her eyes teary, Y/N insisted once more: “Please, Lena, just take me home.”

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Nodding, Yelena drove home without saying anything else. Knowing both that what happened that night, would mark the lives of both forever.

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If you want to be tagged, just ask! This is something I have had for a long time. I'm not leaving other stories behind, I promise. Thanks you so muuuuch to the people who leave a ❤️ , 🔁 and leave comments -even as an anon on my mystery box of questions and requests-, you make me keep writing. 🐻ㅤㅤ

#wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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sizzlinbaconpeach · 1 year

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The Years Start Coming And They Don’t Stop Coming

I was inspired to write a little fanfic back in August 2022. I had some general ideas but only wrote this much and haven’t touched it since. But I read it again recently and still thought it was cute so I decided to share. Keep in mind it is very rough with little to no editing.

Chris closes his apartment door and turns to hang up his coat while slipping out of his boots. His keys clank against the kitchen counter as he stretches and groans in front of the fridge. It has certainly been an interesting last few days at work and he could use something to take off the edge.

He opens the fridge to instinctively grab a cold beer, but his hand hesitates and settles on a bottle of flavored seltzer water instead. He cracks open the plastic lid as he plunks down on his sectional sofa and drinks a few gulps of liquid. There are a few papers and photos strewn out in front of him on the coffee table. He pushes some aside to reveal a photo of Rosemary. His hand runs through his hair with a sigh as his eyes dart to his phone. He swipes it a few times and holds it up to his ear.

"Hey, sorry it's been so long," he grins and chuckles, "no. No beer tonight. I got what you suggested; it's good. Listen, I uh... wanted to ask you something..."

---

"I still don't know why you had to drag me all this way. You know I still have to work on my mid-term paper."

Chris parks the SUV in front of a quaint home with luscious landscaping as he takes off his seat belt, "that's been your excuse for weeks. How much more research can you do on the Spanish Flu?"

"Well, maybe if your guys didn't harass me so much, I could get it done, you know, like a normal person, instead of some freak."

"Hey, come on, you know I don't like it when you talk like that. You're not a freak."

"What other teenager is constantly being lab tested and followed by secret agents everywhere?"

"I know it's not what you want, Rose. But you're not a freak. I've seen my fair share of freaky -- things that would give anyone nightmares. A blonde high school girl has nothing on those 'freaks'. You... you're special, Rose."

"Maybe I don't want to be special. Maybe I just want to be normal."

"Well," Chris sighs, "let's go inside. Maybe you'll feel differently after."

They both walk up to the cozy porch and Chris raps on the painted blue door, "this might give you some interesting insight."

"I don't see how that's possible, unless they survived the Spanish Flu." The girl rolled her eyes.

Chris smirked, "something like that."

---

"Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea? Seltzer water?" She shares a knowing smile with Chris, then returns her attention to Rose, "or perhaps something else?"

"I'm good." Rose shifted awkwardly in the overstuffed seat, if her posture allowed, she wished she could fold even further into herself to disappear. A polite but pained smile stretched her lips as her eyes fell to the floor again.

"Coffee, please. You always know how to make it just right, Jill."

"Oh, yes! You can help yourself; just made a fresh pot in the kitchen."

Chris nodded and rose from his seat to disappear into the other room.

"You still have the vanilla creamer?" His voice rang out.

"Yeah, on the fridge door." Jill responded casually, like this conversation had played out a million times before.

An exasperated sound soon followed, "Mrs. Sugardumps has been replaced?!"

A laugh left Jill's throat, "I told you she was getting old! It's in the kitty tin now." She playfully rolled her eyes as the sounds of Chris mourning for an old sugar container could be heard in the background.

She turned back to Rose with a warm smile, "you sure you don't want anything? I have some light sandwiches or other snacks, if you'd like. I just baked some wonderful blueberry lemon scones."

This piqued Rose's interest, "oh! Is that what smells so good?" She pulled herself up to the edge of the seat in anticipation, a shy but pleasant smile finally brightened her expression, "yeah, I'd love to try one." She always had a soft spot in her diet for freshly baked goods.

Jill's face lit up, "certainly!" She popped up in excitement, "let me go get us some! Chris!" She called out and sharply turned just as Chris was returning from the kitchen with a tray, "would you lik-- oh!"

Rose watched as Jill nearly crashed into him, but he quickly maneuvered the tray to his other hand as his free hand balanced her at the waist, "woah! You okay?" He chuckled, "didn't mean to cause an accident."

"Oh! Sorry!" Jill smiled back at him, "ah, I see you couldn't resist." She raised a playful eyebrow.

His brow furrowed slightly as he misinterpreted her words for a moment until he saw her gaze upon the tray, "Oh! Y-yeah!" Rose thought she could see him blush as his hand retreated from Jill’s form. "Love these. Knew you'd be happy to share."

"Like you read my mind."

"Well," Chris placed the tray down on the coffee table, "you're bound to get some things right after knowing someone for 30 years." He quickly turned to Rose, offering her a small plate with a scone, "or... sixteen."

#tenses tensed tensing tensor tensklkadjfdkajd be all jacked up in this fanfic #post RE8 #chris redfield #resident evil #rose winters #jill valentine #fanficiton #valenfield

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bluesky88diary · 8 months

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Happiness never comes alone. There is always connections... Me with God, with nature around, with beloved, or merely moment. The photo I've made on Sep, 18 in mysterious way reflects another side of universe, where you dive in depth of blue. How could I know? Honestly, there is very little because of me, because I didn't know, but love knows everything.

The week was happy and easy. At my job I got very good position and even better coworker. One awesome guy who tries very hard to make every job done near perfection. Interesting what is his type of character, because it's pleasure to work with him. Yes, he is very demanding and sometimes annoying, asking me to do what I thing isn't necessarily at the moment, but I notice our types cooperate very well. However, I am please to work with this type, but also thought, what if my wife could have the similar character, and... Maybe it's ENTJ, need to ask him pass mbti test. Yet I don't feel myself comfortable with "E" types, they always push things too far. "We have to do this the best we can, and we have to do it right now", I might describe this person this way. But INFJ rarely rush thing forward, and even more I don't like to argue. By the way, his occupation was lawyer back in Ukraine, perhaps good one. Thus, at my job this goes better and better. But at very first opportunity to go full time videographer I will quit this job.

Back to my angel, beloved you. At the moment I saw you waving after turtle with cute fish on its back, I immediately remembered your code when you were waving to... I guess it was cute Mikey Mouse. And this created very cozy feeling connecting this episode that expose your sweet personality. I laterally felt myself as if near you. This was very warm moment. Thank you for sharing. Also that mysterious shark, I think is it any related to the photo I've made? I don't know, but could be interesting to find out.

You know, that you made upset yesterday? I don't know why guys subconsciously have this stupid spirit of competition with each other, but when I noticed you last follow I thought, "What is this about? Somebody is tried you charm you?" And this was sad thought. But then I did what I should do last summer, so I remembered each beautiful moment with you and said to myself, "This cannot be so, she is better than that. Merely grateful for support". However, you what to make me jealous, to bring some fire in our hearts? My baby wanna play? Because recent day I put most of my efforts and everything in work, so you might miss my love and affection. Maybe this way you try to bring it back. But men aren't multitasking, I can be good in everything at the same time. I work hard to make the way toward you possible. Don't you know? I love you so much, my dear Seungyeon.

Till my day I made myself a gift, collected all the professional gear I need for successful work as videographer. Heavenly blessings made this possible, providing me everything I needed for very low price and yet like new quality. Only wide angle prime lens and 3rd light left on my list. But it's very tempting for me as "I" to only collect gear and avoid the purpose, where I have to deal with people, look for clients and do all the business by myself. Sounds scarry, but not for the first time. Clear goal and love in my heart make things possible.

The last good news, today I was asked to lead Facebook page in my local church, makes photos, update spotlights each week, etc. Very good opportunity to practice and show up my skills. Yeah, Jesus takes care of me whenever I go. Very pleasant. And I always pray about you, so you can share my benefits too ^^

Up next our first anniversary. Are you ready? I wish it will be comfortable time together. Then Christmas. I wander what can be more thrilling than last one, such a sweet memory.

All my worries I trust in hands of Jesus and receive back his love, which I can share with my beloved angel, you!!

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moonlitceleste · 3 years

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marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

#maribat #dickinette #cel's fics #celestewrites #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dick x marinette

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sassyhobbits · 3 years

Note

Yes, another part please!😊

Would That I, part 2

ok, so i have given this HOF AU a title and have a vague idea of where its going. anyway, enjoy this part! its a bit longer than the first one!!

pt 1

~~~

Celaena wasn't sure how long she sat there, curled in a ball against the wall, clutching her chest, and trying to ground herself in a world that had suddenly been swept out from under her feet.

Mate.

It was all that was swirling around in her head. Just that. Celaena Sardothien, half-breed, had found her mate even though she wanted nothing to do with the sort. She had banished all parts of her Fae heritage after the king of Adarlan had butchered them across the continent. It had been so easy to forget that part of herself as she grew but now…

How could it be him? Her mate hadn’t been Sam or Dorian or Chaol but Rowan rutting Whitethorn. Celaena knew enough about the Fae to recognize a mating bond didn’t mean love but… this level of hate? It had to be a mistake.

Mate. He was her mate. Mate, mate, matematemate-

“Are you alright?”

Celaena’s wide eyes slowly lifted from the floor towards the figure standing before her, finding a tall woman hovering with a concerned look on her face. Female, Celaena had to remind herself upon seeing those delicately pointed ears. Not a woman.

When she didn’t respond, the female took a step closer, the torch light spilling onto her face and allowing Celaena a better look at her. Dark, angular eyes and silky black hair left tumbling down her back. She wore the same drab, functional clothes as the rest of the residents of Mistward. Her full lips pressed together tightly as she studied Celaena.

“Are you hurt?” the female asked, crouching down so that she was at the assassin’s eyelevel.

Celaena couldn’t will any words to her lips, not even something mean to score her some privacy. She didn’t deserve this female’s kindness, the concern in her kind eyes.

The stranger swallowed hard, seeming to understand that Celaena was in no position to be answering questions. She placed a hand over her chest before saying softly, “My name is Arya. I’ll take you somewhere you can rest.” Her lips tightened again, giving Celaena a once-over. “It looks like you could use something to eat too.”

Celaena didn’t have the fire within her to argue as Arya began to help her up from the stone ground, wrapping a surprisingly strong arm around her shoulders and guiding her slowly through the halls. She should have been more worried about where this stranger was taking her, but Celaena couldn’t find it within herself to really care.

She was vaguely aware of a few twists and turns down the halls, of curious eyes following her. Celaena got the impression that Mistward didn’t often see new faces.

Arya eventually opened a door and herded Celaena into a small, cozy room. There were a few other females scattered around, lounging on worn couches or sitting in little chairs by the fire. All of them looked towards her as Arya shut the door.

The demi-Fae female didn’t pay the others any mind, leading Celaena to a small seat and urging her to sit. “Leila, could you run down to the kitchens and ask Emrys for some tea?”

Celaena heard soft footfalls and the door opening and closing again, meaning whoever Leila was had followed Arya’s request.

Celaena glanced around the room, observing the other females in there with her. There were two others, both looking towards her with curiosity.

A towering female with dark brown skin took a step closer, nostrils flaring as she scented the air. Her eyes narrowed. “This is the one that just arrived with General Whitethorn.”

Celaena’s heart twisted in her chest at that damned name.

Arya blinked at the new information, about as much surprise as she would show. “What’s your name, girl?”

Celaena hesitated a moment before rasping, “Elentiya.” These strangers didn’t need to know who she was, Celaena or Aelin. It wasn’t any of their business.

Another female with pale skin and a mass of curly red hair came forward, green eyes running over her from head to toe before lingering on her face. “You’re hurt.”

Celaena reached up, running the tips of her fingers over her swollen bottom lip, feeling dried blood flake away. Right. She had forgotten about that. “It’s nothing.”

“Did Whitethorn do that?”

Celaena tensed, fingers curling into fists and looking down. “It doesn’t matter. I deserved it.”

There was pity on Arya’s face. A few weeks ago, Celaena likely would have clawed it out. But now…

The door swung open, a muscular female striding back in with a mug of steaming tea which she unceremoniously shoved into Celaena’s hands.

She held the mug tightly, glancing around at the four females surrounding her, waiting for one of them to say something.

Arya went first. “Well, Elentiya,” she said softly. “These are some of the female barracks. I’m Arya, this is Leila.” She inclined her head towards the female who had brought her tea who was stronger than many males Celaena had ever seen. Her dark hair shifted as she nodded her greeting. Then, Arya motioned towards the tall, dark-skinned female. “This is Sahala, and this-” a nod towards the red-head. “Is Eryn.”

Celaena said nothing, only wishing they would all stop looking at her. She took a sip of her tea to avoid the awkwardness.

“Do you know where you’re staying, Elentiya?” Eryn asked, those bright blue eyes wide and glimmering in the firelight.

Celaena blinked. No, Rowan hadn’t had the opportunity to show her where she would be staying before…

No, she didn’t want to think about that now.

Her silence said enough. Arya nodded slowly. “Well, we have an extra cot in here for you to rest your head for the night. Do you have a change of clothes?”

A shake of the head.

“I have some that should fit you,” Eryn offered. She raised a brow. “I’ll take you to the baths too.”

Celaena didn’t remember the rest of the night, drawing deep within herself. She barely remembered eating, taking a long soak, and changing. The females who offered her a place to stay seemed to understand that she wasn’t in the mood to speak, so they gave her some space.

Celaena was just thankful she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the thin pillow.

It meant she didn’t have to think about Rowan Whitethorn for a moment longer.

…

It wasn’t right.

None of this was right.

Rowan was furious. Beyond furious. That whiny brat, the would-be queen, couldn’t be who he thought she was. That feeling in his chest had to be a trick, a ruse of some sort.

But deep down he knew it wasn’t.

Aelin Galathynius, the princess-turned-assassin, was his mate.

It shouldn’t be possible, not after he had loved and lost Lyria. He had never heard of someone having two mates in a lifetime but… he knew someone who might know more than him.

People practically jumped out of his way as Rowan stalked through the halls. He couldn’t imagine he looked particularly pleasant at the moment, and he already had a shitty reputation here. He figured no one wished to be within a hundred feet of him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Rowan knew he had left Aelin alone in a place she had never been, but he had other things to worry about first. Besides, he didn’t want anything to do with her at this moment.

Rowan’s feet led him down towards the kitchen. It seemed of freshly baking bread, and he could hear Emrys singing softly. He entered the warm kitchen, eyes immediately locking on the older male.

“You! Story-keeper!”

Emrys jumped, clearly not hearing Rowan’s approach. He placed down his knife and turned, wiping his hands on his dirty apron.

“What can I help you with, Prince?” Emrys asked, voice soft.

“Have you heard tales of someone finding more than one mate in a lifetime?”

Emrys blinked, surprised by the question. He placed his speckled hands flat on the old table before him, a furrow between his bushy brows. Rowan knew the question would raise suspicion, but Emrys knew better than to go blabbing about the compound.

“I have yet to hear stories of that sort,” the old male said before pausing. “Though I haven’t heard any stories negating the possibility either.”

“So you believe it is possible?”

Emrys shrugged. “Who am I to say, prince? I have found my mate, and I cannot imagine another person out there who I could love more but… the gods work in mysterious ways. Who’s to say that there isn’t more than one person out there in the world someone could be matched with?”

Rowan ground his jaw, frustrated that he wasn’t able to get more of a solid answer. Finding a mate at all was rare… finding two shouldn’t be possible.

And yet, here he was.

Gods, had it felt this intense when he had recognized Lyria as his mate? The feeling in his chest was near-overwhelming, but perhaps time and sorrow had muddied his memories of the female he had lost.

The compound felt much too small. He knew that Aelin was somewhere within these halls, somewhere far too close. He couldn't stay here any longer.

Without another word to the cook, Rowan strode from the kitchen out the back door. The moment he was in open air, he shifted and tore into the sky. He had a destination in mind, and place that would hopefully give him the time and space he needed to sort through the anger and confliction swirling inside of him.

He would worry about Aelin Galathynius later.

…

The next day, Celaena slept.

Rowan didn’t come to retrieve her, hadn’t said what would be expected of her during her stay at Mistward. She was in an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar people.

Deeply and terribly alone.

The females who let Celaena stay with them kept out of her way. Eryn had brought a plate of food to her which Celaena didn’t have to stomach to even look at. She was too busy trying to learn how to breathe, to think, to be, with that strange bond strangling her heart.

Sleeping was the easiest way to avoid it.

She heard the females whispering to one another, saying that Rowan Whitethorn had left the compound in a hurry yesterday without news of where he was heading. Celaena didn’t care. He had probably already given up on her. She would take a few days to rest before she left. She would find the information she needed some other way.

She was vaguely aware of the day turning to night, the females she was staying with all retiring to bed. They all said goodnight to one another. They didn’t say a thing to Celaena.

Her sleep was deep and dreamless. She had been fully intending to sleep the day away once more, but it seemed someone else had other plans.

The sensation of someone watching her awoke Celaena early that next morning. Her eyes slowly cracked open, vision beginning to clear only to find a male kneeled down beside her, far too close for comfort.

Celaena gasped, sitting up straight and scrambling rather ungracefully to the edge of her tiny cot. The male released a bark of laughter at her reaction.

“Come, now. Surely I’m not that hideous am I?” he chuckled. “In fact, I know I’m not.”

He was right, Celaena supposed. The male before her was unfairly beautiful with luminous, dark brown skin, tight, golden curls pulled back messily, and eyes that held laughter in him. His pointed ears and sharp canines showed his Fae heritage clearly, as did the insufferable swagger that seemed to ooze out of his pores.

“What the hell were you doing?!” Celaena snapped, wishing she had a weapon or something. But Rowan had taken those.

“I was studying you. I thought you’d be more frightening.”

“What?”

The male shrugged. “Well, I figured if you were able to scare off Whitethorn so easily you would have fangs or horns or scales or something. But no. You’re just about as pretty as I am.”

Celaena dug the heels of her palms into her eye, banishing the lingering fatigued. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Fenrys,” the male said, standing to his full height. “I’m one of Maeve’s bloodsworn. Like Rowan.”

“And what the rutting hell are you doing here?”

“Since Whitethorn had some sort of important, secret business to attend to, he asked me to come here for the time being.” Fenrys smiled widely. “I’m here to train you.”

#rowaelin #my writing #would that i #hof au

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elfwoodfae · 3 years

Text

Writing’s On the Wall Harrison Eo Wells x reader.

Chapter 2- Specter.

Author’s note: I am so happy and excited for this new series. I hope sincerely that you all like it and let me know your thoughts, this new series will touch on darker themes up ahead in the future. Also tumblr is being annoying with the paragraphs that’s why they are so far apart.

I made this moodboard. I looked up and searched the photos and edited them. I don’t mind if you use it.

Part 1 (here)

A strange calmness falls over him; he turns around, opening his eyes for the first time in hours. He feels exhausted, having spend the majority of the night observing you. He chastises himself, he shouldn’t have done that, there was no other option, he reminds himself, he is desperate and frustrated. The sudden reminder of your presence this early in the morning angers him, a growl escaping his mouth as he sits up, the white linens of the bed pooling around his hips as he rubs his face with one hand, turning his head and doing a double take at the door, making sure is locked, he knows he locked it last night but the paranoia your presence has brought him makes him second guess himself.

His feet touch the floor first, he stretches his arms over his head, moaning at the relief it offers, his white shirt riding up enough to expose a gleam of milky skin; his hair is a mess of black curls, the expression looking back at him thorough the mirror is annoyed, tired, he splashes water on his face, he needs to wake up. The shadow of a beard is starting to appear on his chin, along his jaw and cheeks, he closes his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck and sighting before gripping the sink in a moment of fury where he wishes he could rip it out of the wall and throw it, shattering it into pieces.

How hard could it be to get rid of you? It wouldn’t be hard at all, it would be done before you could even draw your next breath, it would bring him more pleasure than beating Allen, but the consequences would be devastating, his rational side reminded him, there was not possible way to free himself from the torture of your existence without dooming his. Had Joe not met you things would have been different but he could see as clear as day the picture waiting back for him at the lab. Barry most likely knows about you by now, he knows there will be questions once he gets there, they will be innocent in nature but they will only serve to cement your presence into his mind.

He looks at himself in the mirror, admiring every detail of his clothes before he turns around, spotting his chair exactly where he had left it last night; he walks to it, looking at it so intently as if his gaze alone could burn it, hating the thing he punishes himself with. It’s for a greater good, he remembers. Wheeling into the main area of the house he notices all the lights are still off, he takes solace onto the fact that you are still sleeping, freeing him from your presence even if he knows it will only be for a few hours. He decides to leave, not wanting to take the chance of you deciding to appear and tag along, he doesn’t think of himself capable enough to not pull a Brutus a gut you in the middle of the day. This are also the only quiet moments he will get to think, to work on his suit, he sighs, there is so little time for him to use even when he is always alone.

The room is unfamiliar to your eyes, the bed linens are soft, warm, they smell of fresh cotton and clean clothes, it takes a moment for your memories to return, reminding you where you are. The room is dark, the curtains successfully blocking any sunlight from peaking in, there is no telling the time as you look around trying to get at least a sense of how rested you are. The clock reads sometime after 8, Harrison has more likely left by now and a slight disappointment settles over you, you wanted to see the labs, maybe he will want to take you tomorrow. The bathroom is spacious, glass doors decorating the shower as a black marble vanity rest on the wall, its too big for one person, it feels too luxurious for a guest room. Your mind reminds you of a forgotten fact, Harrison was never a showoff kind of person, he liked his house to feel welcoming and cozy, completely opposite to this place.

Walking out of the room is impossible not to notice the eerie silence that accompanies you, all the lights are off but the sun seems to illuminate the whole place through the skylight. A feeling of anxiety settles in your stomach as your eyes scan the expanse of the room, a corridor shielding doors you haven’t explored yet calls to you, maybe it would be best to wait for him to come back and show you around. You look around once again, scanning the walls and every available surface, your brows furrowing once a detail settles into you that you hadn’t taken into account the previous day; there is not even a single photo of Tess or himself anywhere. Maybe he has them in his room, or perhaps in his office, you think, the anxiety of walking into his space long forgotten, replaced with curiosity.

With fast steps you make it to the first door, its unlocked. The wood doesn’t creak when you open it and you wish it had, any sound would be better than this silence. Peaking your head inside, rows of shelfs of books welcome you, a dark desk sits in the middle, random papers and pieces discarded around it, nothing you would be able to recognize. A leather chair sits behind it and for a moment you wonder what could he need it for? Scanning the surface for any photos, any memories of Tess you could find but is empty, not even a photo of her in any of the walls.

Moving along you walk to the last room, the one on the end of the hall; opening the door, the room is dark, no light peaking into it, the bedsheets are a dark grey, almost black, nothing is out of order, a smell that could only be described as a freshly shaved man and clean clothes hits you, its pleasant, fresh. There is once again no photos to be seen, you should turn around, walk back and continue with your day but curiosity gets the best of you; the walking closet is big, rows of clothes hanging, color coordinated and perfectly ironed. A mirror from floor to ceiling adorning the wall in front of you. Walking closer to his clothes you grab the sleeve of one of his expensive white shirts, wanting to feel the softness of it, you don’t recall ever seeing him wearing one. Out of impulse you bring it to your nose, clothing your eyes as the smell of his cologne hits you, causing a blush to rise up your cheeks; he probable sprays it on himself here, impregnating everything around him.

Abandoning his room you walk into the kitchen, there is so many things about him you wish you knew, things that have probably changed and things that you don’t remember. He seems so distant, so cold, so unavailable to you, it made you wonder why he had allowed you to stay with him, perhaps it was not you, it was your attachment, the last piece of her memory he had, you were like an heirloom, one he refused to throw away, and that realization made you sad.

He didn’t seem happy, he seemed lonely, used to being by himself, making you question if he had any friends, if there was anyone caring for him. The man you remembered was always accompanied, always surrounded by people, always kind, always loving; where had that man disappear? You wondered, remembering how he hadn’t even known who you were once he picked up the phone that night, but what could you expected? You had never reached out, staying like a ghost, gone and hidden from his life.

Sighting you shake your head, forcing these thoughts to abandon you, having had enough of their torment for a day, there are things after all to be do today. Her face attacks your memory, you remember her from the times Tess and Harrison had brought her over, Christina is her name, she was close to Harrison and she had been very close to Tess, urging the obligation of a visit in you the moment you had decided to visit Central City, certain guilt at staying so out of touch to both of them fills you.

Perhaps you should have called her office before hand, you think, she is a busy woman after all, but after a few name drops from her past her assistant informs you that she will see you shortly. The door opens to the conference room she asked you to wait at, her face haven’t changed, a few wrinkles here and there, but the same determine eyes started back at you.

“Y/n” she says your name, surprise lace in her voice, she seems excited to see you. She hugs you, before commenting how much you have changed since she last saw you approximately fifteen years ago.

“I am so glad you could see me, I’m so sorry I never reached out, is just after the death of Tess so many things changed.” You begin, feeling the sting of tears coming to her at the emotion of relieving those memories, at being so close to someone that knew her.

“I’m surprise Harrison didn’t mention that I was visiting, I assumed you both were close friends.” You say nonchalantly, catching in the way her face contract, she seems uncomfortable at the mention of his name.

“Well yes we were.” She says, taking in a breath before continuing.

“You see, after the accident Harrison and I fell out of touch.” She says, seemingly leaving it at that, but curiosity is a powerful feeling, pulling its strings inside of you, forcing you to ask.

“Oh, but don’t you both keep any contact at all?” The question seems innocent, you genuinely want to know. She understands that, concern for you raising in her as she decides to open up more to you.

“I’ll be honest with you y/n, after the accident Harrison changed so much, that loving, caring man disappeared, he became cold, calculating, manipulative. I understand how grieve can change a person, but he, is like he is not even the same person anymore.” She tells you and you get the feeling she is not speaking in a metaphorical way.

You decide to confide her in your worries of him, in your confusion when he didn’t know who you were, when he didn’t even recognize your name. You can see the concern raising in her eyes, at you being alone with a man neither of you know any longer, but you assure her is fine, you will be fine, how bad could he be? He wouldn’t hurt you, this was Harrison you both are talking about, even if neither of you believe it completely.

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

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astridthevalkyrie · 3 years

Text

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi x reader #snk x reader #levi ackerman #snk

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clefairymuke · 3 years

Text

regrets | chapter eleven

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1913

Ten feet. That's how far you had walked today without stopping to rest. Hange was practically jumping up and down, and Jean hugged you more tightly than he ever had before. For the first time in weeks, you started to feel a little less helpless. On the way back to the infirmary room, you held on to Jean's arm and limped back rather than being carried. It made you feel strong. Today was a happy day, which you had decided for yourself when you woke up, warm and cozy as you could possibly be under the thin white blanket that adorned the soft mattress. You felt refreshed; ready to work on your leg that morning, ready to see Jean, ready to make more progress. In the furthest part of your brain, you were also ready to see Levi that night. He was gone already when you woke up, like every other day, but that had never bothered you. The thought of good-morning small talk with Levi was awkward at best.

Now, you sat across from Jean with a hand of cards. You thumbed through them for what felt like the tenth time as Jean took his sweet time on his turn. He finally laid down a card, only for you to play one of the moves you'd thought out over the last five minutes as soon as he did. As the cycle started again, you found yourself looking out the window. The sun was almost ready to begin sinking, the blue of the sky becoming duller by the minute. You greedily awaited the purples and pinks that meant teatime. Throughout the day, the quietly nagging piece of your mind that wanted to see Levi grew bigger and bigger, until you finally had to admit to yourself that you were excited for it. You decided it was half because the tea was good, partially because he was good company, and a little bit because your hand still tingled when you thought of him.

Jean's turns got painstakingly longer as the game went on, so much so that you thought he was doing it deliberately. Your impatience grew as the sky turned orange, and Jean put the cards away. When he left, the sun touched the horizon.

The brevity of your alone time was unexpected yet welcome; the thoughts that possessed your brain while you sat in that room were hardly ever pleasant. You decided you were grateful that you didn't have your own bedroom -- the presence of company had become necessary in recent weeks. In that brief alone time, however, your mind did not hesitate to race. You recounted the events of the day before: Eren's anger, Levi's affection. For someone confined to a room, the past few weeks had surely been interesting.

You wondered about how it felt when he had touched you; you had many theories, but the leading one was that Levi put some sort of numbing solution on his hand to mess with you. Sure, it was out of character for him, but it was also out of character for you to do anything but dislike him. That was the theory you intended to stick beside.

Every time you heard the tiniest sound, your eyes shot to the door. Each time, you were met with disappointment. You looked around the room absentmindedly, eyes landing on the table that held only a glass of water. You leaned up as far as you could and grabbed it on two sides, sliding it between the chair and your bed. You felt accomplished when you laid back down, resting your hands on your stomach and focusing your eyes on the ceiling. You tried to push the thoughts of yesterday as far out of your mind as you could, but it was difficult. When the orange of the sky finally moved to pink, the door opened. There was Levi, as always, carrying along his tea set.

"Hey, Levi," you greeted him, a welcoming smile finding its way to the corners of your mouth. He nodded his head back to you as he sat down, his dark hair falling slightly forward as he leaned to pour his tea. For the first time, you studied the man sat in front of you. His lips were formed into a slight frown, more often than not. Though he was looking at his teacup, you knew his grey eyes looked focused, his thin eyebrows perpetually drawn down. You followed the slope of his nose with your eyes. His features were graceful yet sharp, all fitting cleanly together. The ends of his hair fell fell haphazardly along his cheekbones and ears, perhaps the one thing about him that wasn't perfectly neat.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked when he looked up, sending blood rushing to your cheeks.

"I've been looking at this room for three weeks. There's nothing new about it. People look a little bit different every day," you answered him, your face hot. You pulled your eyes away from him in search of literally anything else to look at, finally focusing on your own folded hands.

"You're a pretty good liar, you know."

The two of you sat there chatting for at least an hour before you were interrupted by a knock at the door. Levi looked at you expectantly, and you told them to come in. It was a scout you didn't recognize, relatively tall, with shaggy brown hair that fell across his forehead. He only came in about a foot, then saluted. "Captain, the Commander needs to speak with you. He'd like you to come to his office as soon as possible," he said.

Levi nodded at him in dismissal, and the boy left as quickly as he had arrived. "I shouldn't be long. I'll be back soon," he told you as he stood. He followed the boy out the door and left you to the candlelit room all alone.

---

After two hours, you had long understood that Levi was a good liar, too.

It was now pitch black outside, the candle failing to provide much light. Sleep was fighting you tooth and nail as you shifted around the bed, attempting to find even one comfortable place. Your eyes were begging to shut, but your body wouldn't allow it. You continued like this for another half hour before your mind finally found rest, closer to passing out than comfortably drifting.

When Levi finally returned, the tea was cold. He was quiet as could be, careful not to wake you as he sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair; your position was less than peaceful, he noticed, your body more sprawled out than curled up and your hair in a tangled mess. Your eyebrows were drawn in tightly, your face displaying blatant discomfort. When he looked away, his eyes were pulled right back by a sound escaping your lips. It was soft, yet distressed. He wondered if he should wake you.

You started to toss and turn, your little gasps and groans growing more frequent and closer together. His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward. He tried to make out words, only deciphering the occasional "help" and "mom." Admittedly, it struck his curiosity. He sat and watched you for a moment more before rising from his seat and laying his hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. "Hey, wake up," he said, trying to sound soft, but really only getting his typical tone across. He called your name, which tasted sweeter than it should have, twice before you finally roused awake.

You sat straight up, practically throwing his hand from your shoulder as you drew in shallow breaths. Your eyes darted around the room, vision a bit blurry, and you jumped when you saw Levi at your side. You were disoriented at best, not taking the time to speak. You noticed the tears brimming in your eyes after a moment, and immediately lifted your hands to wipe them.

"You were having a nightmare, I think. I'm sorry I took so long," Levi finally spoke up, not moving from your immediate bedside.

You cleared your throat, knowing sleep would still be present in your voice, before you replied. You looked over at him, his typical concerned expression more prominent than usual. "It's okay. It isn't your fault," you told him, laying your head in your hands. You felt vulnerable, and you didn't like it. Part of you wished Jean was here to snore loudly while you woke up in tears, not requiring you to interact with anyone.

"Are you okay?" he asked you. You noticed his hand twitch forward and then return to his side -- was he going to reach for you? You found yourself hoping he would.

"I'm . . ." you started, not really knowing how to finish your sentence. You tugged at a tangle in your hair. "Used to it, I guess. Not okay, not terrible. Just indifferent." You figured it summed up your emotions enough. Sleep had started to nag at your eyelids again, likely knowing it would be refreshing rather than restless now that you were no longer alone.

You laid your head back down and looked over at Levi, waiting for him to either reply or sit back down. He did neither; he stood there, studying your face as you had studied his only hours before. He didn't answer until his eyes finally met yours. "Do you need anything? At all?"

The look in his eyes was confusing, one you had never seen before. It was soft, almost endearing. Your voice answered him before your brain permitted it, and you regretted it as soon as it left your lips. "Would you lay with me?" You cursed your mouth and nearly vowed to never open it again. You felt yourself blushing, so much so that you wanted to turn over and bury your face in your pillow to never be seen again.

He wasn't embarrassed, though. His eyes widened a fraction for only a moment before he nodded, then sat on the edge of your bed and unlaced his boots. He pulled them off slowly and set them under the wooden frame, then stood and took off his jacket. He pulled his cravat from his neck swiftly and laid both over the back of the chair. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly, leaving only the gray shirt he wore beneath it. It joined the rest of his clothes on the chair. You moved away from the middle of the bed, allowing him plenty of room.

He didn't use it. He lifted the blanket and climbed in close to you, sliding his arm underneath your shoulders and gently guiding your head to his chest with his hand. Your heart had built up so much pressure you were sure it would explode out of your chest and leave the both of you a bloody mess. You adjusted yourself, shifting to face him and allowing your arm to drape over his stomach. You avoided looking up at him at all costs, but you could feel his eyes burning into the top of your head. This was the strangest, most foreign thing you had ever felt. The most off-center part was that you were entirely comfortable, your body more than relaxed despite your chest's unrelenting tightening.

"I --" you began, unsure of exactly what you were going to say. It didn't matter, because he was quick to interrupt you.

"Hush," he whispered. "Get some sleep."

#AoT #aot fic #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #enemies to lovers #slowburn

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pen-observing · 4 years

Text

My Only One iv - final

Diavolo and you have been together for a century. While time flies, the last decade has not been kind to either of you. He is about to become the King and while you have subjected yourself to transformations, just to live with your beloved, the pressure is unending. You live your life publicly. It is no luxury. Not having an heir when 100 years have passed tears you apart- just as much as it divides those that you inevitably rule. A solution comes like the last ray of hope. Go to an enchanted fortress used for fixes of the worst kind. Subject yourself to even more hexes to have the possibility of producing an heir. It’s just for a year. A short time for those immortal. A long time for those in a complex relationship, especially when for the sake of efficiency, letters are the only means of communication you are allowed to have with outsiders.

Warnings: none

i / ii / iii / _

To say that your feet felt lighter and the frozen ground finally melted after the letter from the brothers would be an understatement.

Hope. Hope in its trues form finally existed for you again. Too many years did hope have the same colour as Diavolo’s eyes. You almost forgot other potent sources of such a feeling. My dear, you forgot that hope was held within.

As your sanity finally made peace with your inner being; everything else started to fall into place. Diavolo’s paragraphs upon paragraphs; drawing a lie within a dream still stung; but, you did not go crazy. Power was flowing back to you.

The letters from the brothers varied on topics decided by the hand that wrote them. Admittedly, based on the handwriting, some were easier to read than others. But their meaning; their essence; their love was never to be questioned.

Karasu was proud with the step-by-step recovery you were making. Those watchful eyes were full of kindness and wonder while you grew into a cheerful state. Well, as cheerful as the circumstances would allow.

The room wasn’t messy anymore. Your treatment was moving along smoothly. The interest about people in charge of you grew. They respected, while still being able to doubt, the genuine curiosity held from a future Ruler. They did not tell you everything but a difference between privacy and secrecy was established. Based on such occasions you managed to find out that one of the witches dedicated her whole life to this. She could never, ever, have kids because of a pact. However, seeing others live out that oh so feeble dream of hers; would mean happiness.

It was astounding that a pure motive existed within these walls. You marvelled at it. And life began to marvel at you.

Month nine marked the witch leaping at you with such joy in the privacy of one of the examination rooms. She held your arms tightly. She delivered the news with a strong voice. “You, you! Your treatment exceeded every expectation they set! You can have children now! You can bear a child. You can give birth to Devildom’s future!”

The news shocked you. Now? Right now? This was as sudden as time itself. What does this mean when you are unsure about the man who swore to be the best father? He also swore to be a true lover; look how that turned out.

But there was no way you could allow yourself to break in front of this person. There was no way your humanity would disrespect the witch’s joy for you; the life long dedication.

You gently held her hands with a genuine smile prompted by her honest hope. You thanked her from the bottom of your heart; even if it was still broken.

That interaction meant that the time of your solitude in this fortress was at its end. It meant you had to return to the frightening outside world. But how?

The end that once was sure to spark joy was no more. Confusion was torturing you now; unrelenting.

What now?

A long conversation with Karasu followed where you weighted every option of return. Should you notify Diavolo? What will you do once you see him again? Could you ever find a small corner of your heart that would ensure forgiveness upon the man you loved more than any other?

Karasu knew you. Karasu patiently listened and answered all questions.

It was decided that as a person who makes memories out of feelings; as an impulsive human who observes and makes decisions based on natural states- Diavolo would not be notified of your return.

You had to see him in his true state: unprepared, surprised; to realise if the relationship could be mended.

The brothers however, will know. You are not ashamed to admit that you asked them a favour - making necessary preparations. Evoking the pact to make sure secrecy was upheld like a virtue. They didn’t mind. They knew you trusted them and this was just to ensure Lucifer’s silence to the man that betrayed you.

And in uncertainty, while lacking bravery; you set out. Back to the castle. Back home.

But the ride back was less pleasant than the experiments. Countless scenarios plagued your mind. Your sanity was seemingly throwing different conversations your way.

Menacing. Dramatic. Sad.

Then suddenly in a leap of love- it hit you with grandiose romantic gestures of apology. Honey words that felt true.

What will Diavolo do when you meet again? Everything depended on that.

Could it be that he even betrayed those daydreams of yours? Stepping outside, in front of the gate, clearly showed that fate would not answer your questions soon enough.

Time, bewildering time, my dear.

Diavolo did not welcome you- Barbatos did. How expected of him to be so calm by your sudden return. His demeanour always amazed you. Even while expressing his surprise upon such a turn of events he remained eloquent. Almost idyllic.

The man controlled time, he toyed with it in an intricate dance; why were you so surprised? Was it because in those daydreams, in those silly expectations of yours; Diavolo was the only man you wondered about? Where was he right now?

Barbatos led you inside the tea room. Was he toying with you now as well?

This room. This intricately decorated room was always your favourite inside a castle which felt enormous; never ending. Ceaseless. The word home could have been this room by itself. Why? It was always warm. Cozy. It was where you would spend time while Diavolo was relentlessly busy. It was where you would relentlessly force him to take breaks.

Most of all, It was where the two of you existed outside of pressure. It was where the two of you kissed for the first time. Countless nights of love and pleasure happened right here.

Barbatos was definitely toying with you. If he did not become a close friend over all of these years you would have cursed him out.

He brought a sweet aroma in your favourite tea cup. Yup. He set it down with a gentle smile. You definitely would have cursed him out for using gold-lined tea cups Diavolo gifted you.

Your eyes stayed on his figure while, unable to resist, the cup found way into your hand. There was no need to ask Barbatos anything. He remained a perfect butler.

“My Lord will be here momentarily. If we were notified of your return, we would have cleared his schedule.”

A slip up. Barbatos made a mistake. Unfathomable.

His words were serene once again. Just like when you departed. The surface of the water is serene, what goes on below? What did his seemingly simple words hide?

Did he say it on purpose? Did he do so out of care for you?

“Barbatos.”

You have to be brave now more than ever my dear. Barbatos gave it away in case you were not aware. How kind of him.

“Yes? Is there something not to your liking?” “I noticed how you referred to Diavolo as my Lord, not our. This had changed since I left.”

Silence. Continue to be brave.

“I know Barbatos. I know that his hands have touched someone else. I know that he slept with them in our bed.”

Your voice was flat. Barbatos stayed silent out of respect for you. In reality, his masqueraded words meant much more. How could Barbatos, utterly loyal, admit that he himself considered Diavolo weak? His Lord was weak for the temptations. He could never say, but you knew.

In that moment, rushed footsteps echoing outside in the hallway reached you. The door sprung open swiftly. In such speed and urgency unseen before. Diavolo stood there. In disbelief. Marvelling at your sudden return in ardent admiration.

He stood there, breathless from running to see you. For months now this tea room was devoid of your presence. For months now he longed for your return. Oh how Diavolo yearned to open this door and see your form blessing it.

And here you were. Magnificent. Radiant.

Barbatos had to interrupt this moment because peace could not exist after what was spoken. He turned towards the door, walking out. His lips parted open for a whisper to Diavolo. “They know everything.” He gracefully exited. Diavolo stood still, unable to meet your gaze.

He deserves this shame.

You sat there looking at him. He was breathless, bewitching. ...But was it because of excitement for you? His hair was messy, his tie was loose.

Was this the work of the other woman? His whore? When was the last time her fingers touched him so intimately?

How pitiful was it to glance up at him like this.

My dear, why do you call the woman a whore? Diavolo was the strongest man of them all. He was no easy target. Why do you make it sound like she took him? He gave himself away. He probably seduced her.

You stood up. Smiled at the man undeserving of kindness. He saw it. He saw it and yet his eyes still avoided yours.

Guilt. For the first time,perhaps ever in his life, Diavolo was hesitant. Approaching you like this was a confession of his betrayal.

He stayed silent as your hands gently fixed his tie that someone else tugged on not too long ago. “This is no way to present yourself. Do you wish for them to say the future King grew messy?”

How ironic was this rhetorical question phrased just like the one on the day you left? How much of a paradox was this position identical to the way you two said goodbye in love?

Diavolo still loved you.

That much you knew when his hand grabbed yours in a desperate attempt to keep you close. To keep the magnificent presence within this room. His serious gaze was solely focused on you. If only you were the sole partner.

His deep voice, filled with regret, still charmed. “One word from you and she will be banished forever. I adore you. I was helpless without you around. That is what made me so weak to fall into this predicament. I love you. You know that.”

His fingers intertwined with yours. A pathetic attempt. How dare he cite your absence as his justification?! There is a clear difference between that justified and that which was just an excuse.

If you had to say anything to get the other woman out of the castle it was already pointless to try and rectify this broken trust; broken love; between the two of you.

Good observation my dear, the other woman became pregnant while you were still receiving treatment. She gave him something you sacrificed every part of yourself for.

“Diavolo...” Your soft voice trailing off already told him the conclusion he was dreading. Begging to avoid. He knew of your humanity; he knew how pitiful he was. Diavolo, despite everything, still was enough of a man; enough of a lover, to know he had to respect your decision.

Your hand slipped from his hold. He remained still. Like a statue of a fallen hero.

“Diavolo, huh?”, a deep sigh. How long had he not heard you call his name? Was this the tone he must remember the end by? He cannot have that. His heart cannot have that.

“Beloved, please. Just once more. It would be a tragedy to part like this. Have you really stopped loving me?”

You knew what he was asking for. How kind of you to fulfil his wish; gently fixing a few strands of his hair, while love still lingered in your eyes. My dear, this is almost cruel from you.

With those eyes you looked into his. Gave him a sad smile and graced him, graced his wish, in a soft voice.

“My only one, my love belongs to those that are faithful.”

(I hope you have enjoyed reading it until now. I wonder how you feel and if you like it. Feel free to talk to me and ask me questions if you have any. Your feedback is treasured. I promise you. Posting this at 1:34am tho has me feeling a bit loopy. Is loopy a word? Unsure. However from the bottom of my heart- thank you for reading until now.)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #cheating #angst #diavolo

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huicitawrites · 4 years

Note

Hi there! I saw that you had requests open so if it's possible, can you do #14, #17, #32 and #33 with Jotaro and neutral reader, please ? Like all in one ? It can be from part 4 or 3. I just feel like those numbers would be on brand for him and the last one you wrote for him was wonderfully written. You don't gotta do all numbers though if it's too much. I don't wanna stress you out. Thank you and by the way, you are an amazing writer !💓💓 ❤️❤️❤️

“Dulce Periculum”

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo x Reader

prompts: #14, #17, #31, #32

warning: possesive behaviour, toxic relationships, dark fluff.

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It was late -or very early-, about two o’clock in the morning and not a soul could be heard for all the neighbours had gone to sleep by now, even the lousy dog. In spite of such a favourable atmosphere, the dark haired man had yet to sleep.

In fact, he found himself quite awake- and fortunate as well.

So, goddamn fucking fortunate.

Before the broad man laid the shorter figure in snoring silence. Their face held no signs of stress or worry, just joyful slumber. Plump, tempting and inviting, lips were slightly parted . {H/c} hair sprawled over the feather-pillows in a hairy mess, however the Kujo found it to be part of their enchanting beauty.

Smooth, perfect [skin colour] skin-clad shoulders rose and fell at pair with their slow breathing. They were curled in a little ball, so tiny and fragile.

Practically defenseless.

It was his golden ticket and Jotaro did not think twice when he dived into the crook of their neck. With a deep whiff; he inhaled the sweet, familiar scent and sighed -his warm breath tickling a lil’ bit- as he too; relaxed into the comfort of the mattress and their cozy warmth.

“I fucking need you more than I need to breathe.” The confession sent shivers up the unconscious figure’s spine, as if their clueless body had some sort of instinct left to it. As if their erected hairs at their nape were aware of the glinting, ocean eyes staring down at them. Like their gut could read his desire of leaving purple-dark imprints on the skin of neck their and above the breast.

The intent, though, was more than mere sexual desire. It pierced through such shallow, simplistic yet primitive intentions.

It was possession at its finest.

He wanted to have them all to himself, to leave his marks, embrace them and hold them close , and keep them thereforever.

Jotaro Kujo craved a life with them, he felt safe in their arms.

He felt at bliss, far away from the wretched memories of Egypt and from the blazing ache of trauma. The dark haired man wished for a life in which he’d share it with them. In which he’d get to see all their smiles and hear all their laughs, where he’d get to kiss away their tears and console their fears. Where he’d be greeted by them -and maybe a little girl or little boy-, where they’d cuddle with him after a long day of work and where he’d get to bury himself in their arms all mornings and nights.

His usual harsh exterior now seemed to have never, ever existed. There was no trace of it as his lips caressed their collarbone. Ocean eyes flashed the most intimate desire, his aura remaining gentle yet passionate.

But Jotaro also feared.

Yes, the iron-armor clad Kujo trembled at the thought of them leaving.

Of walking away from his life as his friends had, of in the blink of an eye; turning around only to gaze them from far away. Their figure getting further away from his reaching hand, as it turns blurrier to the sight and the echo of their footsteps fades away.

His eyes snapped open and a muscled arm came snaked around their waist, pulling them closer in a tug; flush against his naked chest. With wide eyes, he observed their facial expression. Shut eyes twitching slightly, nose wrinkled a lil bit over and scrunched eyebrows.

Their sleeping body flipped to face the other side, and then proceeded to snuggle their back against their lover’s chest; seeking to be spooned. They hummed, unconsciously happy, and Jotaro huffed.

“Do you really think you can get away from me?,” he leaned over with his sharp jaw and placed his chin atop their head, “ after all… You know you’re mine, don’t you?”. Having said that, no; stated it, confirmed it. The Kujo closed his eyes and dozed off, content with them in his arms.

They remained in peaceful sleep, blissfully unaware and painfully naive.

~.~

You always woke up before your boyfriend. It was pleasant though, that way you could look at his relaxed face, which was a little unusual for he always held a frown over his face and tight shoulders. Thus you’d appreciate instances such as this.

Silently, you placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

There was no answer, and you smiled lovingly knowing he was resting well.

Checking at the small clock on your bedside, you decided to leave the comfort of your sheets and head down for breakfast. Moreover, you could cook a sweet surprise for your boyfriend.

Using enough strength to lift up the heavy weight off your body - but not disrupting it-, you crawled out of bed as stealthy as possible. However, just before you took off the covering sheets, an arm - the one you had put lots off effoft to lift off- pulled you inside.

Now, you laid face to face once more with your cherished boyfriend.

“ ‘Morning Joot”, you greeted with a smile.

He kept on looking at you, perhaps for a couple of minutes before he leaned in to reclaim his early-morning kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue danced in your mouth, roaming the space he had , oh, so deliciously devoured time and time again. Already accustomed to the daily routine, you followed him along the kiss.

It was not rough, but passionate, slow and deep. Both of you slowed down until your laid still upon each other, and only then; the kiss was broken off.

“You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.” his gruff yet soft spoken whisper tickled your neck, erupting a few squeaky giggles from you. You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, right over his fast-pacing entranced heart. [E/c] hues locked with those deep, ocean eyes you cherished so much, and you smirked. The handsome dark haired teen returned the gesture, and then flipped you both to your surprise.

Your laughs merged into one, enjoying the lovely ans unique moment. Once you regained composure -if laying with your messy hair and wrinkled pijamas over your boyfriend could be considered so-, you lowered your head towards his forehead.

“I know,” your hand took hold of his hat at the bedside and you placed it atop your own head, earning a blushing JoJo, before planting a swift peck on his forehead - “all yours.”

You sealed your fate.

These were the moments you held dear, treasuring them in your memory and heart. Sunday mornings like these, cuddling after a good ol’ sleeping and being all cozy n’ warm together as the golden rays of sunrise bathed you both . It was simple, nothing more than playing with his short black locks and kissing each other’s sweet lips.

You wished it would always be simplistic as this, but his desire for you whole was far more complex and strong than your will.

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A/N: Thank you anon, you’re amazing too! I hope you all like this one as well, it didn’t stress me out to write these prompts because I too thought it’s suit him well, so no worries :) .

Ps: the title translates to “Danger is sweet” from latin. Also, please reblog if you liked it🥰

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yungidreamer · 4 years

Text

Generosity

Summary: The Christmas holidays come and San joins her and her family for the holiday celebrations. He is made to feel like one of the family while Yunho and Mingi have their own celebrations at home. After the big day, Mingi is invited over to Yunho's so he can get away from his family and the boys plan a naughty show for their girl.

word count: 9.5k

Content warnings: Warm family stuff, mourning the things you wish you had, car sex, anal sex, a little bit of consensual exhibitionism and voyeurism, and a little bit of angst about not always having the love and the family that everyone deserves to have.

“Honey, it’s time to get up!” Her mother’s voice drifted through the door to her sleepy ears. It had taken her so long to fall asleep last night. Really, there wasn’t a good reason for it. She had even gone to bed early. It was Christmas Eve and she was actually looking forward to Christmas. San was staying over, finally agreeing when her father insisted that he come when his dad, again, went out of town over the holiday period.

It had been fun to have him around, not only because he was fun to hang around with in general, but because he was actually really good with her brother. Jacob was in that weird teenage period of his life where everyone in the family was just too uncool and none of them could possibly understand the things he liked and the things they liked, well, he would never give them a chance. But somehow, San could be cool. Jacob liked San. He liked having him there and seemed to think that they were on the same team. Really, it was fucking adorable.

In the couple of days before he came over she and her mother had gone shopping for a few things to put under the tree for him. Her mother had picked out a few items of clothing of the same sort that she had gotten for her own kids, as well as some things for school like a nice pen and a day planner. She had gotten him a tub of that bubbly face mask and a couple of sheet masks for him to use when he was back at school by himself. She also bought him a gift card for a music service and an IOU for a bus ticket to visit them sometime next semester. Her father had gotten him a new leather wallet, saying it was the sort of thing all adult men should really have.

She spent the evening before he arrived making sure that it was all wrapped and properly tagged. The thing from her father she put his name on, the clothes came from Santa as they always did, school supplies from mom, and the facemask, IOU, and gift card were from her. The presents were tucked in alongside all the others to be put out under the tree after everyone went to bed on Christmas Eve.

San arrived on the day before Christmas Eve and was immediately understood where she had gotten her instinct for cozy places. It was very apparent they were a Christmas sort of people. Their house had been warm and welcoming over Thanksgiving, with a nice atmosphere and plenty of food to be had, but the house itself had just looked like, well, a nice house. Between now and then it felt a little like elves had stopped by to make every corner just a little more festive. Christmas knick knacks were put on every shelf and sill and a massive Christmas tree had been put in front of the big picture window at the front of the house, making it visible to anyone who passed by.

It was really the small details that hit him though. If you didn’t look too closely, it looked like one of those pleasant cottagey sorts of homes that were picture perfect in their homey mismatched decor, but when he looked a little closer, it was far more authentic than that description would credit. On the hearth were an assortment of figures, small and made from porcelain, each different from each other. One was a little bassinet on a sled with the words Baby’s First Christmas. When he picked it up he could see her birth year on the back and a small chip on the base on one side. There was another Baby’s First Christmas from a few years later, obviously for Jacob’s first Christmas. A third was Our First Christmas. They were all mementos of important years, important moments in their lives.

The large fake tree they had was covered with a hodgepodge of ornaments that were everything from enamel baubles, to stained glass pieces, to popular characters, to animated scenes that encapsulated holiday moments or stories. As he looked through them he could see that they were all dated and named and had been collected over the course of the last couple of decades.

It was interesting, he could see the personalities of each of the members come out in their choices. Her mother liked things that were beautiful and artistic. Her ornaments included a sparkling star of stained glass, a large three dimensional heart made of enamel which was decorated with a wreath of holly around its middle, and something that looked like a hollow sugar egg filled with a sparkling winter scene.

Her father seemed to like somewhat simple and straightforward ornaments. His included a globe shaped ball of wood, covered with an inlaid design of the star and the three wise men. Another was a small wreath decorated with small balls of various colors that reflected the lights of the tree when it was set in its branches. Perhaps San’s favorite of his was the bubble-like iridescent glass ball that had three smaller glass balls set inside of it. It was just eye catching, how it caught the light, when you finally noticed it.

Jacob’s ornaments were mostly reflective of his likes, full of super heroes, book characters, and animals. They were expressive and lively, much like the kid himself. Really, his were probably the easiest to pick out as almost all of them were only incidentally Christmasy: Superman carrying a wreath, a puppy ripping open some presents, Harry Potter on a broom with his wand out. He was clearly following the family tradition, but not because of a special like of the holiday which seemed apparent in the choices made by everyone else.

She seemed to love things that were animated, seasonal, and nostalgically captured moments. There were a number of ornaments with little moving parts like a mouse on the pendulum inside of a little clock or a kitten that rocked as it played with an ornament near a hearth. She also loved little lit scenes like a gingerbread like house that had windows that lit up with bright orangey light from the inside. So many of them were little places and little moments you wanted to step inside and live in their coziness.

He loved it and it was all just so...them. Christmas had always been fun and warm at home but a little more formal, planned, and stilted. They had their traditions and way of doing things, but, he supposed, thinking back at it now, his parents had been in a world of their own and he had happily been along for the ride. It was probably what had made the loss of his mother so hard for his father. They had their world, their way of doing things, their household. It hurt a little to confront but he couldn’t change it. He could, however, do better himself when he found someone and had kids of his own. He wanted to make a place where everyone felt loved and welcome, like her family had done for him.

On Christmas Eve, the whole family, San included, had gathered in the living room to watch their favorite Christmas movie. Their dad put in the DVD of A Muppet Christmas Carol, while her mom got out the large tub of flavored popcorns they always got from the school fundraiser. She recommended the caramel kettle corn to San and he had been right, it was pretty good, as was the cheesy version which her brother was very fond of. They watched the movie, singing along with the songs, and it was apparent that all of them had watched it many, many times and would happily do so in years to come. When the movie was over, they had all gone to bed to let Santa come and so that everyone could get up bright and early to start Christmas.

San had curled up in his bed in the study and fallen asleep quickly in the warm comfort of the house. Jacob was happy to go to his room, but spent a few hours reading before he actually went to sleep. Her parents were quick and efficient in their preparations, laying out all the presents and setting out the stuff that would just make the morning go faster when it came. She, on the other hand, tried to go to sleep, but instead tossed and turned, feeling lonely without the arms of the boys there to hold her as she was going to sleep. She did finally fall asleep after a few hours, but still slept fitfully as she still reached for them even in her sleep.

When morning came and her mother roused her from her bed, she climbed out and headed to the living room to join the rest of her family. She ran into San in the hallway along the way and they walked down the hallway arm in arm to the dining room table. Everyone picked up their portion of sticky buns and a cup of cider or coffee and headed into the living room to eat around the tree. While her mom had warmed up the baked goods in the oven, her father had laid a fire in the fireplace, turned on the tree, and put on some quiet Christmas music to make the mood.

It was the best Christmas morning San could have hoped for. He sat himself beside her, laughing and chatting with her as they ate the little morning snack for breakfast. She looked tired and her hair was still a little bit of a mess, having come out without having done her hair to join the family for the homey holiday morning. He gave her a hug with one arm around her shoulders and mussed her hair affectionately.

“Hey, I’m already looking messed up enough, I don’t need any help with it,” she joked, lightly smacking his hands away.

“You look cute,” San assured her. “I should take a picture for the boys. I bet they would love it.”

“No need,” she laughed. “They get to see this all the time. Tired me, looking like a mess.”

“I doubt they have gotten tired of it or something,” San assured her. “One sec, I’ll be right back.” San got up and made his way back to his room, getting his phone before coming back out. He wanted to get pictures and he wanted to share this Christmas experience with his friends and her lovers. He took a couple of photos of the breakfast buns that were left in the pan in case anyone wanted another before he headed into the living room again. Before she noticed, San snapped a couple of pictures of her on the floor near the tree as she ate and sipped her coffee. She looked cute and small, sitting cross legged on the floor near the tree not far from her parents. Her brother was stretched out on the couch behind their parents.

“Okay everyone,” Her mom sat forward, setting aside her cup of coffee. “Let’s open presents.” She reached under the tree and started sifting through the packages there and pulling something out for everyone, San included, much to his surprise.

“You didn’t think we’d forget about you, did you?” She said, elbowing him playfully as he drew up beside her.

“You didn’t have to, you know,” He said softly, bumping his head into hers gently.

“Merry Christmas, bub,” she told him, pulling him into a real hug. “Just remember, you’re the oldest kid here now.”

“Of course,” San gave a sudden and heartfelt laugh. “I hope you’re ready to have an overprotective brother.”

“Uh-oh, I take it back,” she chuckled as she pulled back.

“Nope, too late,” San shook his head as mischief sparkled in his eyes, that’s what it was, definitely not tears, that was for sure.

“Okay Jacob, you can open first,” her mother said, starting the process that allowed everyone to take turns as they opened presents and thanked the giver for what they had received. The turns went for as many rounds as there were presents left for people to open. The numbers of presents were pretty even all around, with her and Jacob being the last two who had a couple of extra things they went through quickly.

San looked at the little pile of presents in front of him and felt a rush of gratitude and a poignant spike of admiration for the people who had invited him into their closest moments. Nothing there was particularly expensive, except maybe the wallet, but he really couldn’t tell, however, it was the sort of basic necessities or fun things family got for each other to make sure you had what you needed and could have fun now and again too. He hadn’t really had time to get them anything before he came over and it also hadn’t crossed his mind. It probably should have, he told himself with an internal sigh. If he comes again another year, he promised himself, he will definitely get some next time.

With presents opened, it was time for everyone to throw themselves into the project of Christmas dinner. There was a lot to be done, but between mom and dad’s co-delegation of the work to everyone, all the jobs were started that would get dinner on the table by around three in the afternoon. Everyone had a job or two they needed to do and had a place to start. Not everything needed to be done at the same time, but most things could be done ahead, even if they couldn’t be cooked until later.

With everyone working and cheery holiday instrumentals playing on speakers through the house, it was actually fun to take part in and San felt like he could at least be useful. He stood with her at the counter, peeling potatoes then chopping them up to be boiled in a couple of hours.

“How did your mom know what size I wear,” San poked at her as they worked.

“I did your laundry, remember,” she teased. “I know all of your sizes now.”

“Sneaky,” he admitted. “I’ll remember this and treat any interest you have in me and my stuff with the deepest suspicion.” He gave her an over dramatic suspicious look that sent her into a fit of snickers that drew looks from everyone else in the kitchen.

“What’s so funny,” her father asked, coming up behind them and checking on their progress.

“He’s going to be suspicious of me and my detective skills from now on since I remembered his clothing sizes from doing his laundry,” she told him with a note of pride.

“That’s my girl,” he said kissing the top of his daughter’s head. “Too smart of all of our good.”

“I’m guessing she got that from somewhere,” San gave him a suspicious look as her father took the large pot of potatoes.

“Don’t look at me for that,” her father advised. “Her mother is terrifying in how she remembers the strangest things.”

“Only because no one else in this house remembers where they leave anything,” her mother joined the conversation and gave all the other members of her family an expressive glare.

“Hey, I’ve gotten way better at all of that stuff,” she protested her mother’s characterization.

“I’m sure looking after those two boys has contributed to that,” her mother put a hand on her hip.

“I...say nothing,” she settled on as an answer, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of admitting she might be right. San bit his lip at the scene and wondered if Yunho and Mingi might have objected to the characterization.

“Can I come over tomorrow?” Mingi asked Yunho when he called him late on Christmas night, after everyone in his house had gone to bed.

“I...I think so,” Yunho sat up a little straighter in bed at Mingi’s tight voice. “Is everything okay?”

“I just hate everything here,” he stood near the window in his room wishing that he was back at their home, even if he had to be there alone. “My dad can’t not pick at things and he keeps asking me why I only got B’s in two classes on my midterms. Never mind the three A’s I got.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Yunho told him, knowing that it was easier said than done. “I’m proud of you, love. You’re so smart and you work hard. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

“I love you, too,” Mingi said in a small voice. “I miss you. And I miss her. I miss home.”

“I wish you could just have spent Christmas here with me,” Yunho sighed. “Mom asked about you. She was wondering how both of you are doing. I told her you did so well and that you studied so hard. She was proud of you.”

“I’ll remember to thank her when I see her,” Mingi gave a half laugh. “You’re so lucky to have your mom.”

“I know,” Yunho admitted, casting a glance in the direction of her room where he knew she was sleeping. “My mom has always been good at making sure I knew she loved me even if she isn’t always good at loving herself enough.”

“What did you get for Christmas, anyway?” Mingi asked him, thinking of a happier direction for their conversation.

“Mostly clothes,” Yunho shrugged. “But I also got a new laptop for classes. She was worried that the old one wasn’t working so well and had gotten too slow.”

“Oh I got a new laptop, too,” Mingi responded. “But they also got me a new console, a new phone, and some gift cards for games as well as all the clothes and stuff.”

“Wow, you made bank,” Yunho gave a low whistle.

“Yeah,” Mingi admitted. “I usually get a lot of stuff, but I don’t know… it’s never anything that I really ask for.”

“I wanted to thank you again for the suit,” Yunho told him warmly. “Mom really loves it. I wore it for Christmas dinner even though it was just me and Mom. You would have loved to see her face. I can’t wait to give you what I got you for Christmas.”

“I wish we had had more time with just us,” Mingi admitted. “I wish we had gotten to do our own Christmas before we headed home.”

“Yeah, but it was also really nice having our friends around, even if the reason they ended up over was kind of weird,” Yunho pointed out.

“Yeah,” Ming agreed with a smile. “It was really fun to have all of them over. Did San send you all the pictures he took of their Christmas, too?”

“He did and it looks like he had so much fun,” Yunho giggled. “I’m honestly a little jealous. He got to have so much fun with our girl. I wish it could have been us. At least San shared it with us.”

“Yeah and I am glad he isn’t alone,” Mingi shrugged, having felt closer to being alone than he really wanted to admit.

“I’ll tell mom you are coming over in the morning when I get up,” Yunho told him. “Come by in the afternoon when you can.”

“Okay,” Mingi sighed. “Just call me if she isn’t okay with me coming over or something.”

“She’ll be so glad to see you,” Yunho assured him. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I...I love you,” Mingi cast an eye to his bedroom door, suddenly self conscious. “See you tomorrow.”

“Love you and sleep well,” Yunho told him gently.

“Night.”

The day after Christmas Mingi found himself on Yunho’s doorstep, standing nervously holding the little gift he had gotten for Yunho’s mom. He had actually gotten it when he bought Yunho’s gift himself, running across a holiday kiosk shop with all sorts of little things. He had spotted the small snow globe with the polar bear chorus inside and somehow he had thought of her. Inside was a trio of them, holding sheet music in books, with little red and white scarves wrapped around their necks. It had made him smile and seemed sweet like the little woman who had somehow given birth to the giant that Yunho had grown into.

She answered the door, pulling Mingi inside with a warm hug and happy greetings. Her home was small and a little worn but always warm. She helped him hang up his coat and stow his boots on the mat near the door.

“Oh you look so handsome,” she cooed, keeping him slightly hunched from his hug so she could get a good look at his face.

“Thank you, Ms. Jeong,” Mingi beamed at her.

“Oh honey, you can just call me mom,” she corrected. “I’m so happy to see you. Come and tell me about how you have been doing. How was school? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Mom, I already told you all of that,” Yunho sighed and shook his head at his mother.

“Well maybe you don’t know everything,” she waved her finger at her son. “Maybe I also just want to hear it from him, too.” Mingi happily took a seat with her on the old, worn corduroy couch and answered her questions about how he was and what it was that he had been doing since she had seen him last. She was happy to see him looking healthy, though she wasn’t sure he was eating enough.

“I’m sure that both of you have gotten at least an inch taller and two inches skinner since Thanksgiving,” she shook her head as she looked Mingi up and down.

“I actually think I’m gaining weight,” Mingi said, his hands going to his stomach he was sure was getting a little pooch to it.

“No,” she dismissed. “You are still such an adorable skinny boy like my Yunho.”

“Mom, we are fine and we are eating plenty,” Yunho hugged her from behind. “In fact, you can see us eat plenty now if we pull out some leftovers.”

“Oh yes,” she nodded, getting up and heading to the kitchen. Christmas in the Jeong household was less extravagant than at the Song household, but the heart and soul that went into her food always was apparent. She took the time to score and baste the ham and always made a gravy with the drippings that came off. Her yams were always sweet and the marshmallows on top were always perfectly toasted. Mingi was pretty sure that her stuffing was his favorite dish. It was always perfectly spiced and fluffy with just the right amount of walnut crunch mixed in.

They piled leftovers on their plates and stuck them in the microwave to reheat everything before they sat around the small round table in the dining room. She kept the warm conversation going as they ate, listening to the boys talk about school, their interests, the food, and anything else. She loved the smile that her son always got when he joked with Mingi. It was when he seemed happiest. Well with him or her or, better yet, the both of them. Her son had always been a little quiet, a little shy and that had made it a little hard for him to make friends over the years. He had found some and lost some and had never been alone, but the way she had seen him flourish with their friendship had made her so happy and proud. He had gotten so confident and so comfortable in his own skin in a way she had only hoped he would be someday. She hoped that it would just last, even if they all went different ways. After all, it was so easy to think that life as it was now, at their age, would always stay the same.

When they were done, the boys volunteered to wash the dishes and let her relax a little, but she took the chance to pull out the little present she had been saving for Mingi. He usually came by over the breaks and, even if he hadn’t, she could have always sent Yunho back with the little thing. That was probably what she would have to do with her gift for her. She didn’t take it personally that their girl didn’t make it every holiday. Her family was much more serious about spending the time together and her family was also much more...pleasant (she said diplomatically even in her head) to be around. She knew what the two boys meant to her and she was always lovely when she did find the time to come by.

When she came back out, the boys were just finishing with the dishes, drying the last two plates before putting them back in the cabinets. She waited for them to be done before she beckoned them both back into the living room. Sitting down in the seat nearest the glow of the lights on the tree, she patted the seat next to her, inviting the boy to sit beside her.

“Oh, one second,” he said when he saw the little gift in her lap. He took big loping steps back to where his coat hung and fished into one of the pockets to pull out his small gift for her. The proud and happy smile on his face as he came back carrying that little package meant more than anything that could be inside it. She loved to see Mingi when he was filled with joy and confidence, especially when she thought of the awkward anxious boy she had first met. He thought he had hid it so well with the way he squared his shoulders, jutted out his chin, and would make boasts. But the boy here, on her couch was brimming with confidence by comparison and she couldn’t have been more proud.

“Here, I got this for you, too,” he handed her the box before accepting her gift.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she scolded, patting his knee with affection.

“I know, but I thought of you when I saw it,” he shrugged, giving her a shy look as his eyes traveled down to the gift from her in his lap.

“Open it,” she encouraged. Mingi nodded and ripped into the paper eagerly. Inside was a little graphic novel he recognised as the latest volume of one of his favorite series. He hadn’t been keeping up with it since he had gone off to school with as much as he had been focusing on classes.

“I thought you might have gotten it for yourself so there is a gift receipt inside and you can get something else if you have it or if you are tired of this series,” she explained anxiously. “I just remember you used to read these and this one only came out a couple of months ago.”

“I don’t have it yet, and thank you,�� he leaned over and pulled her into a hug. “I love it but I hadn’t even realized this was out yet.”

“I’m so glad you like it,” she glowed at him, patting the arms that embraced her. “Merry Christmas, my dear.”

“You should open yours,” Mingi said excitedly, pulling back again.

“Oh, of course,” she looked at the box in her lap. It was heavier than she would have guessed for the size and was actually curious what he had gotten her. She opened the paper carefully, picking at the tape so that she could save the pretty paper that he had put on her gift. Under the paper she found a plain cardboard box which she turned over until she found a side that looked like the top, thanks to the little divot on one side where the top tucked in. Finally she peered inside to find a fist sized glass globe. She slid it out of the box and smiled as she finally got a good look at it.

“Oh Mingi, I love it,” she said softly.

“Look, it also plays music,” Mingi took it from her hands and turned the little key set in the base. He wound it until it couldn’t any more and then turned it right before letting it go. Faint strains of I’ll Be Home for Christmas as little flecks of glitter swirled in the liquid around the little polar bears inside.

“A perfect song,” She grinned up at him. “And you thought of me when you saw it. I am so touched, sweetie.”

“You like it?” He asked, his whole face lighting up with his smile.

“It’s wonderful,” she assured him, giving the globe another swish to stir up the glitter again. “Thank you so much. I’ll treasure it.”

“I’m...I’m so happy you like it,” Mingi said as he watched her wind it one more time, before putting it in a safe place on the entertainment center.

“I’ll see it there,” she decided. “I’ll keep it safe with the other Christmas decorations when I put them away. But I already can’t wait to get it out again next year.”

Be in bed by 11, we have a surprise for you 💞

The message came through to her phone not long before dinner. A little piece of her hated them for sending the message then. Now she had to wait for hours to find out what they had planned for her. Curiosity niggled at her the whole evening, leaving her distracted over dinner and not following the conversation unless someone said her name.

“Everything okay?” San asked quietly, after having to nudge her to bring her attention back to the conversation happening around her.

“Yeah, just distracted,” she gave him an apologetic smile, making him laugh and shake his head. San could guess, especially by the way she kept checking her phone, just who was on her mind. He had sympathy for her but he still couldn’t help finding it funny. He honestly couldn’t help but wonder what her parents would think if they knew the arrangement. They’d probably get over eventually but it would be a battle. Their sense of how things ought to be would be a hurdle to their acceptance.

By 10:30 she was checking her watch and giving exaggerated yawns as she set the stage to go to bed more than an hour before she would have usually, given that it was very much still a holiday and she could still sleep late and while away the day doing whatever relaxing thing she wanted. So far she had read three books she had been meaning to read and watched half a drama with San, who was a master at snappy commentary about the story and characters. They would definitely be able to finish it before they went back and she was having lots of fun with it. San had actually made being at home without the boys way easier than it would have been otherwise.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” she stretched as she stood up and made her announcement to the room casually. “I’ll probably read a little before I actually sleep, but I’m going to go ahead and lie down.”

“Okay honey,” her mother said, looking up from her cross stitching she had in her hands. “See you in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” her father said lightly.

“I think I’ll head to bed, too,” San said, standing up from his seat near her.

“Have a good night,” her mother said to San. He nodded to both of them before following her back towards their rooms.

“Tell the boys I say hi,” San said playfully just before he ducked into the guest room. She flashed him a warning glare mixed with humor as she watched him before she slipped into her own room. Locking her door, just to be safe, she changed into her pajamas and got into bed with her phone and headphones.

I’m in bed, she messaged, biting her lip in anticipation as she sent it. Expecting to wait for a little while, she closed the app and turned on some music to listen to while she tried to stay busy. The video call that interrupted her after only about thirty seconds surprised her, though perhaps it shouldn’t have, after all, she wasn’t the only one who had been looking forward to this for hours.

“Hi babe,” Mingi said, his face taking up half the screen next to Yunho’s, both peering at her from a dark space she couldn’t place.

“Hey loves,” she said quietly, making sure her voice wouldn’t carry outside of her room. “What are you two doing together?”

“I visited Yunho today,” Mingi confessed, casting a grateful look to the other boy. “He invited me over so that I could get out of the house.”

“That was sweet,” She gave them both warm smiles. “But you aren’t still there. Where are you two?”

“In the car,” Yunho chuckled, turning the camera around so she could see they were parked somewhere secluded, surrounded mostly by snow.

“What are you doing out there?” She questioned with a giggle. “Why are you out there in the cold?”

“We wanted to do something...give you a little show,” Mingi replied mischievously, coming close to the camera as he spoke.

“A show?” She repeated, feeling a blush rising on her cheeks at the thought.

“Have you been missing us?” Yunho looked into the camera flirtatiously.

“Of course,” she sighed, feeling a little tingle rising in her stomach.

“We’ve missed you,” Yunho continued, slipping an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. “Should we give her a little taste of the love we want to show her?”

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed, melting a little into Yunho’s embrace. “I want her to watch.”

“You want her to see me take you?” Yunho asked, changing position to move Mingi to sit between his legs, coaxing him to lean against his chest. Mingi nodded in response, making himself a little smaller as he leaned back.

“Give our lovely Mingi a kiss,” she prompted, her heart speeding up as she did.

Mingi turned his head and looked up to Yunho behind him. The two shared a look for a second before they came together, lips meeting in a soft brush of skin on skin. Yunho reached up a hand to caress Mingi’s cheek, helping him angle his face. Yunho controlled the speed of their kiss, keeping it agonizingly slow and light as their lips moved. His thumb brushed over the corner of Mingi’s mouth, coaxing him to open his mouth slightly. Mingi huffed slightly and opened to allow the kiss to deepen.

As she watched the two of them she could feel a thrill of excitement move through her, tensing her stomach muscles and moisture starting to build between her legs. They looked so beautiful together. The sharp lines of their jaws and the way their fine features seemed to match and compliment each other. Her eyes focused on the perfect shape of Yunho’s Cupid’s bow lips as they moved in profile. They looked too perfect, too ideally shaped as they touched Mingi’s.

Mingi’s lips were largely hidden between Yunho’s lips and hand but her eyes moved along the line of his jaw and down the line of his long throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed with his nervous swallows as he kissed the boy behind him. There was a sort of softness that came over his angular features as they touched.

“Did you like that, too?” Yunho asked after he pulled back from the kiss, still continuing to hold Mingi against him.

“Yes,” she said softly, sinking further into the bed, eyes locked on the screen.

“What do you want to see?” Mingi asked, looking up at the camera through his lashes.

“Can you undress each other?” She decided after a brief pause. “I want to see you both.”

“Should I start with unwrapping our beautiful boy, here?” Yunho teased, running his fingers over Mingi’s still clothed chest.

“Yes please,” she agreed eagerly. “He’s so beautiful.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Yunho looked at the other boy, admiring the blush that spread over his cheeks and the tips of his ears at the compliments. Yunho’s hands reached around to the front of Mingi’s body. They found the fastenings on the front of his hoodie, working them open, making sure she could see his fingers as they did.

They watched her eyes glued to the screen of her phone. She was rapt in her attention. Yunho could feel the heat in her eyes as she watched them and he loved that feeling. He liked the control of focusing her attention with his movements. The expressions that flowed across her face as she followed his gestures gave him a burst of confidence.

Mingi could feel the touch of her gaze through the screen of the phone they had attached to the back of the front seat. When they had come up with the idea while they had a moment alone at Yunho’s place, Mingi had liked the idea of letting her see them, teasing her, while they did something since they hadn’t been able to invite her. Often he was on the other side. He so often got too impatient to tease either of them. It wasn’t really his fault, by the time he got them alone, he often felt like he had been waiting for them all day. By that point he just wanted them. He wanted to touch them, he wanted to taste them, to have them in his arms.

Yunho slipped the hoodie off Mingi’s shoulders taking his time and making a show of it. Underneath Mingi wore a black shirt with a wide neckline that showed off his collarbones and upper chest. After he threw the hoodie to the side, Yunho’s fingers went to the skin exposed there. His fingertips danced over the line of his collarbone and slid his shirt down off one shoulder. It was an irresistibly beautiful stretch of skin to them both. Yunho leaned forward and pressed a kiss there. He licked, kissed and nibbled a line from the tip of his shoulder and up his neck.

“Our Mingi is so handsome,” she sighed, looking at them through the screen as she turned onto her side.

“He’s beautiful,” Yunho observed. He nuzzled the skin below Mingi’s ear and left the ghost of a kiss.

“I want to see more of him,” she whispered to them. “Please.”

“Should I help him take off his shirt?” Yunho offered, his hands traveling down the front of Mingi’s chest and stomach.

“If it's not too cold,” she said after a moment’s thought.

“The car is nice and warm,” Yunho smiled. Of course she thought of that, of course that would cross her mind. His hands went to the hem of Mingi’s shirt and lifted it off over his head, baring the expanse of his white chest. Mingi shivered at the warmth in her gaze as her eyes took in the sight.

“You look so pretty, baby,” she cooed to him on the other side of the screen. “I wish I could show you how pretty you are to me.”

“Isn’t he so pretty to look at?” Yunho put his hands on Mingi’s ribs and let them trail down to his waist.

“What about you?” she pushed playfully, letting out a suppressed chuckle. “I want to see you, too.”

“You want to see me?” Yunho teased, ducking slightly further behind Mingi’s body. “Even when you have this to look at?” Yunho ran his hands down Mingi’s arms, making him shiver at the sensation.

“He’ll look even better in your arms,” she pointed out with a grin.

“Ahhh, I see,” Yunho nodded and pressed his lips together to try and stop the grin from spreading across his face. Mingi half turned in his seat to look back at the other boy. His eyes were bright and playful chocolate pools set in his glowing face. His blond hair had grown so that the fringe reached past his eyebrows now, allowing him to give them flirtatious glances through the curtain of his hair. Mingi brushed the hair out of his eyes and leaned over to kiss his temple on one side. He put one hand on Yunho’s shoulder, covered by the white knit cardigan he was wearing. His hand caressed down his arm as he moved his kisses down along his cheek until he was kissing the dip of the corner of his lips.

“Can I help you take it off?” Mingi offered, pressing his forehead against the side of his face. Yunho nodded. Mingi’s fingers went to the large wooden buttons and started to undo them. Yunho lifted his hands to hold Mingi’s as they slipped the buttons through the buttonholes. With all the buttons undone, Mingi parted the sides like he was drawing back curtains. Yunho shrugged off the cardigan and tossed it into the seat beside them. Mingi leaned down and licked one of Yunho’s exposed nipples, tasting it like it was a dollop of fallen dessert. Yunho sucked in a breath at the sensation.

“How does he taste, Mingi, my love?” She asked in a harsh whisper.

“As delicious as always,” Mingi gave her a wide grin. “Should...should I mark him so he remembers this?”

“Yes, over his heart,” she agreed, enjoying the idea. Mingi sunk down, finding a somewhat awkward position that brought his mouth more comfortably down to Yunho’s nipple level. He brushed his pillowy lips over the one nearest to him, giving it a soft suck and lick as it hardened under his touch. Moving closer to the center of his chest, just to the left, he pressed his lips against him, feeling the beat of his heart under them. Yunho brought his hand up to run his fingers through Mingi’s hair, caressing his scalp as he looked down at him.

Mingi closed his eyes and let his lips part, latching onto the skin under them. He breathed in the smell of Yunho’s skin, salty and musky. He sucked it enough to draw it into his mouth, allowing him nip lightly with his teeth. Yunho let out a light moan and his fingers tightened in Mingi’s hair, pulling it lightly.

She saw the look of pleasure bubble up on Yunho’s face, like a spring escaping through the fissure in a rock. It slipped out and spread across his body like a trickle. Mingi’s head moved as he sucked and worried Yunho’s skin until he was satisfied, letting it go with a pop and giving it a parting kiss.

“Let me see,” she asked, hiding the lower half of her face behind her hand. She could feel that a hot flush had developed on her face as she had watched them. Mingi sat up and leaned out of the way to let her see what he had done. He ran his fingers over it lightly, admiring the reddish mark he knew would mellow into purple soon enough.

“Now you’ll remember this,” Mingi said with satisfaction.

“As if I would forget any moment I have with you, with both of you,” Yunho scolded before he pulled Mingi into a hungry kiss. He let himself dive into the sensation and the taste of him, let the intoxication of passion fill him. She watched them silently, not wanting to break the haze of desire that was surrounding them. She loved seeing when they let go, when they lost the rest of the world in their love. She held her breath and watched as their mouths played and clashed. They were beautiful when they were with each other.

“Can I?” Yunho broke the kiss and brought his hands down to the waistband of Mingi’s jeans. Mingi nodded and leaned back a little to allow him to fumble at the button and zipper on his pants. Yunho unfastened them and slipped his fingers inside the waistband on his hips. He touched his skin there, enjoying the simple intrusion of touching the skin beneath. Mingi rocked forward, silently asking him to pull them down further, to take the next step.

“Impatient,” Yunho teased, unable to hide his smile as he spoke to Mingi.

“I’ve missed you,” Mingi whined. “When I...just by myself, it isn’t the same.”

“I know,” Yunho was sympathetic and couldn’t have agreed more. Taking pity on him, Yunho helped him to pull off his pants and underwear after they both cast a quick look around to make sure their spot had not been intruded upon by anyone. The snow cover of the city made it easier to spot anyone that might have made their way there against the bright backdrop of the snow. Assured they were still alone, they both stripped the last of their clothes off.

“Love, I know you can’t be here, can’t be with us but,” Yunho leaned close to the phone that connected them with her. “Will you touch yourself for us?” She nodded and set the phone down to strip herself naked as well. When she was finished she lay down on top of the covers and let the camera pan down her naked body.

“You look pretty,” Mingi complemented, looking intently at the screen. “Are you wet already?” She nodded, switching the phone to one hand and letting the other slip between her legs and gather a little on her fingertips. She brought them back up, letting them see the evidence of her wetness before she brought them to her lips and sucked them clean.

“Good,” Yunho palmed himself, slightly below the view of the camera, but the movement was clear. Mingi let his hand tease along the inside of his own leg, working closer to his erection but not yet touching it. Yunho dug into the little bag he had brought with him from home and pulled out the little tube of lube he had snuck out with him. He turned in his seat to lean against the car door and stretched his legs out over the back seat. Mingi straddled his thighs and looked down at Yunho’s deep brown eyes which looked up at him with such love.

Mingi leaned over putting his hands on the door beside Yunho’s shoulders, bringing his lips to the other boys. Their erections pressed together and Yunho wrapped them both with one of his large hands. He played with them both as they fell into a deep kiss. Mingi rutted into his hand as he used his own to hold Yunho’s face, angling it just right to fit with his.

“Here, come a little forward,” Yunho coaxed Mingi’s hips until he was straddling higher, near his waist. His hands caressed along his lower back and the curve of his butt. “Is it okay if I start getting you ready for me?”

“Please,” Mingi nodded, arching his back a little to make it easier for him to reach. Yunho put a little lube on his fingers. He slipped his fingers between his cheeks to the small, puckered hole and began making slow circles. Mingi slowly relaxed under his touch, letting out a breathy sigh at the feel of his fingers.

“Does it feel good?” Yunho asked in the quiet of the car.

“Yeah,” Mingi let out a huffing whine. “Faster, I want you in me.”

“Patience, love,” Yunho soothed. “I want it to feel good.”

“It does, it always does,” Mingi insisted.

“Kiss me,” Yunho suggested. “Show our girl how much you want it.” Mingi leaned forward and brought his lips to Yunho’s, licking and nibbling at them eagerly. He moved in time with the sweep of Yunho’s fingers, mirroring them in his eagerness. Yunho slowly worked in one finger and then two, slowly opening him. Mingi protested against his lips when he removed his fingers.

“Shhhh, you’re finally getting your wish,” Yunho chuckled at his pout. He reached for the lube again and spread it on himself, wiping a little of the excess on Mingi before cleaning his hands on the little towel he had thought ahead to bring as well. He positioned himself at Mingi’s entrance and let the other boy sink down his length as fast as he felt comfortable.

When Mingi had taken him completely, they both turned their attention to the screen to look at their girl. Her room was dim but they could still see her face looking at them in the dim light. She noticed their eyes on her and she flashed them a smile and blew them a kiss.

“You’ve been quiet, love, are you okay?” Yunho asked.

“I just heard someone in the hall so I have to be careful,” she whispered. “I think everyone is finally going to bed.”

Mingi let out a moan and felt himself flutter around Yunho inside him. He wanted to move but he wanted to be sure she was with them, that she was there and enjoying this as much they were. He rocked slightly and managed to ask. “Are you still with us?”

“I’m here,” she assured him. “I want to see you. Please.”

“Can you ride me?” Yunho asked, running his palms up Mingi’s strong thighs. Mingi nodded, moving slowly at first, the friction giving him slow waves of pleasure as he did. Yunho let him set a steady pace before bringing one of his hands to Mingi’s hard length where it jutted between them. He matched the movements of his hand to Mingi’s rhythm. Mingi let himself go and started moving faster, hunching forward to avoid hitting his head as he moved.

“So good,” Yunho praised, caressing Mingi’s waist as he stroked him. “You feel so good around me.”

“Fuck,” Mingi panted as he looked down at the other boy. “I’m not gonna last like this.”

“I want you to come on me,” Yunho encouraged, his breathing tense. “Make a mess for me.”

“Keep going,” Mingi entreated, closing his eyes and letting himself focus on the pleasure Yunho’s body was giving him. He let all of the stress of being home, the stress of missing them, the stress of having to stand alone against a relentless barrage of criticism and dismissal melt away. He let the love Yunho gave with his body fill him. He heard Yunho’s breaths growing harsher and more ragged as her faint, suppressed moans traveled through the phone to him. He opened his eyes to see the face that matched those sounds, his eyes going to the small screen hanging off the back of the front seat. Her face was soft and pink as she watched, her lips parted as she panted quietly.

“Are you close, too?” He asked her.

“Yeah,” She whispered back. “But I want to see you cum...and I want to see Yunho fill you. I want to hear you both.”

“Come for her, love,” Yunho urged, his fingers digging into Mingi’s hips as he felt his own pleasure building. “Just let go.” He sped up the movement of his hand and watched Mingi’s face take on a slack look he so often slipped into just before he reached his orgasm. Mingi’s rhythm faltered slightly as sensations bubbled up inside him. Everything felt good. His skin tingled and he could feel the coolness of the air clinging to him as a fine sheen of sweat started to to cover him.

“I’m gonna cum,” he panted, grounding himself down on Yunho and let him continue to work his hand on him in the last few seconds before his orgasm washed over him. Yunho’s hand continued to stroke him as thick ropes of cum spurted out across Yunho’s chest. Mingi panted and his cock twitched, letting the pleasure subsume him like a wave.

“You look so pretty like that,” Yunho praised him as he finally let go of his spent length, his hands moving to hold his hips now. “Lean forward just a little, love.” Mingi nodded, leaning on his hands where he rested them on either side of Yunho’s head. A weakness suffused his limbs, but he held himself as Yunho thrust up into him, chasing his own pleasure now. Mingi’s eyes returned to the screen at the sound of her panting as it joined Yunho’s in the quiet of the car. Her gaze was hooded and her eyes hazy as she watched them.

“Is our girl close, too?” Yunho asked, not taking his eyes from where his body moved in and out of Mingi.

“Yes,” Mingi replied breathlessly. “She’s so pretty like that.”

“Our girl is beautiful when she cums,” Yunho panted. “And it’s for us; only for us.” He heard as she gave a faint strangled noise then lapsed into just heavy breathing. Yunho tore his gaze away from Mingi and looked at her. Only her face was on the screen, focusing on the blissful expression she wore, eyes closed and her jaw clenched.

Yunho pulled Mingi down on him harshly as his own orgasm hit him suddenly. He had been so focused on them, on making sure this lasted enough to be good for both of them, that he had pushed his pleasure to the side. When it finally burst over it, it was like the breaking of a dam as a single crack finally caused it to fail. Blinding white filled his vision and a tingling rippled out over his skin with an almost painful intensity.

Mingi watched as Yunho came beneath him. He looked almost surprised as it overtook him and he squeezed his eyes shut. If he hadn’t known any better, Mingi might have thought he was in pain as the other boy released himself in his body. Yunho’s hands gripped his hips almost painfully and Mingi was sure he would have bruises from it. He didn’t mind, in fact he would be glad to see them over the coming days when he had no choice but to be alone with his parents. When he saw them or felt them, they would remind him of this, of the people who loved him for himself; of their shared generosity of everything that made them who they were.

When they had all taken a moment to recover, they said their good nights and hung up, leaving Mingi and Yunho in the car to clean up. They were careful to leave no traces on the car or themselves and Yunho hid the tube and towel under the seat before redressing. Mingi pulled his own clothes on, focusing on that to avoid thinking about how soon he would be alone again.

“We’ll hang out again before the holiday is over,” Yunho promised, caressing Mingi’s cheek when he saw the sad look he couldn’t keep from his face.

“Of course,” Mingi looked at him and forced himself to smile.

“No, I mean it,” Yunho took Mingi by the chin and made him look him in the eyes. “I won’t leave you alone there very long. And even when I’m not there, when we aren’t there, we’re here,” he put his other hand over Mingi’s heart. “And we aren’t that far. If you need me, just call. I’ll always pick up and if I need to come get you, I will always come.”

“I love you,” Mingi held the wrist of the hand on his chest. “Knowing that you love me too, makes it survivable.”

“New Year’s isn’t really important to my mom, not like Christmas is anyways,” Yunho began. “Maybe we can spend it with San and our girl at her parents.”

“Lucky San getting to spend the whole holiday there,” Mingi sighed.

“Yeah,” Yunho gave him a laugh and a smile. “I can’t really envy him too much, but then again, I still have my mom at least and I am sure he would happily trade being there for having his family again.”

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed, San might be lucky to have been accepted into the arms of her loving family, but no generosity of spirit on the part of her family could erase the sadness of the rejection of his father after the loss of his mother. Yunho pulled Mingi into a hug, warm and reassuring, just holding him.

“Ready to go home?” Yunho asked him after a moment.

“I’m ready,” Mingi nodded and pulled back. They both got out and moved to the front seat, letting silence settle on them as they pulled out of their secluded refuge to return to the real world. It won’t have to be for very long, Yunho promised himself, hoping that Mingi could feel the promise he couldn’t bring himself to voice.

Masterlist

#ateez #ateez smut #jeong yunho #song mingi #kpop smut #mingi smut #mingi #yunho smut #yunho #choi san #ateez imagines #ateez hard hours #kpop imagines #kpop hard hours #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #ateez fluff #kpop fluff

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Frigid

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Hurt / Comfort / Romance

Story Warnings: Topics of Depression / Body Image, Relationship Drama (implied / suspected cheating), Arguments, Cursing, Sex (rough: choking, dirty talk), Foreplay

Words: 8,070

Summary: Hiking with your long-term boyfriend had always been an enjoyable, if not a bit challenging, experience. In the dead of winter, he talks you into trudging up the mountain side, but there’s more than just the frigid cold that needs to be conquered. Guilt, regret, and the loss of a connection that you once had with him all put out in the open, it is up to you both to fix what had been broken and reignite your frozen hearts.

a/n: I know, this is a long one! But I didn’t want to split it up and ruin the pace, so I hope you enjoy the read! ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ Sorry for all the negativity that came through on this one, but I promise I pull it around with cute fluff, hot make up sex, and super sweet Bakugou that’ll make your heart melt. (⺣◡⺣)♡*

Please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

You had always greatly enjoyed the winter season, that much you could admit. The cool weather, softly falling snow, and cheerful atmosphere made it perfect for gathering with loved ones and celebrating the holidays. Bundling up in warm clothes and scarves with fabric so soft it felt like the gentle kisses from your lover, tender and warming you to the core. Warmth is what you loved most about the winter, in the form of a cozy fireplace, your lover's arms around you, or enjoying a hot cup of tea beneath a wool blanket and fuzzy socks. It was a time to cuddle, to rest, to love, and to give.

Yes, you loved winter and all the pleasant things that came with it.

But not right now. No, in fact, you despised the ice-cold wind blowing against your face as you trudged up the side of a mountain, the current angle of the snow-covered ground barely ascendable without tools. Your legs ached with each push and pull you had to make to heave your body up, and though you figured it would have gotten easier by now, the struggle only continued to grow heavier on your body. Nearly six hours, now, you had been following your lover up this mountain path, and with only two breaks in between, you were near your limit. But, even if you begged to stop now, that wasn’t possible.

You had gone climbing and hiking with your hotheaded lover enough times to know his routine. This path in particular was one you had gone up a couple of times while dating, but never in the winter. Sure, he had gone in the colder months, but you had never felt up to it all the years before. Somehow, he had talked you into it this time, dragging you excitedly out into the wilderness. He loved this sport, and even if you had always supported him in the past, that encouragement was nonexistent. Right now, you wished that he liked something a little easier, safer, warmer, or just straight up boring.

Chess, maybe? Or perhaps an indoor sport like volleyball or badminton, you could get into one of those easily. You even preferred his intense workout regimen over this hell! Yet, here you were, clutching your cold gloved hands around a tree root to pull yourself up onto a rock ledge. As you came to rest on your knees, you felt all your breath leave you, the weight of your backpack and other luggage suddenly feeling like it weighed a ton.

“K-Katsuki, wait a second!”

Having heard your plea, Bakugou stopped, looking back at you. You couldn’t see his face, as it was covered with goggles around his eyes and a face mask to protect his nose, mouth and neck. Hood of his jacket pulled up as well, all you could see was a small tuft of his blonde hair sticking out around his forehead, which bounced about in the wind. You were pretty much the same as far as being protected from the cold and wind, though it was still enough to make your cheeks and tip of your nose tingle and burn.

After a quick glance around him to check your surroundings, Bakugou jumped and slid back down, kneeling beside you once he could. “Are you hurt?”

Even though it crossed your mind to lie that you had in hopes he would take it easier on you, the truth prevailed, and you gave a small shake of your head. Pulling down your mouth and nose cover so you could talk better, you wiped your nose with the back of your glove. “No, no. I just got winded suddenly… This path is a lot harder in the winter.”

Bakugou sighed, pulling down his own mask before pushing up his goggles, glancing over you with that brilliant crimson glare that nearly made you flush with embarrassment. “Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be this shitty today. It’s worse than what I read online. But you’re doing good! Don’t tap out already.”

His encouragement was inspiring, but only for a moment, as you were both suddenly assaulted with a new rush of wind. Whining in detest, you put your mask back on, vigorously rubbing your cheeks. “L-Let’s just keep going so we can find a place to camp!”

“The spot is about another half mile away. Get your ass up, babe, you got this!” Standing, Bakugou took hold of your arms, helping you to your feet. Even through the layers of clothes, you could feel how warm his hands were, and you wished so desperately for him to just hug and hold you. You knew that it would come eventually, but not until you got your aching body up the mountain, got the tent set up, and were cuddled in your sleeping bags. Just knowing that was what awaited you at the end of this was enough to spur you forward, and so, you followed him up the hill.

Eventually, you came to a spot in the path that became level, winding around the side of the mountain until the wind was no longer beating down on you. It was still strong enough to be bothersome, but you could tolerate it, especially since the path was now quite pleasant to walk on. You were still too out of breath for conversation, and though Bakugou seemed perfectly fine, he didn’t bother to speak either. The company you shared was comfortable enough to not require constant talking, and it helped that you and your lover were of the quiet type, anyway.

It was a time to be at peace, in nature with the only responsibility is keeping yourselves alive and safe. That, and it was a way to expel all that extra energy that had built up over the previous months. At least, it was for Bakugou, and not so much for yourself. The blonde beside you, now in his late twenties, had quickly become a prominent and famous pro hero after graduating high school. He loved the action, the testing of his skills, continued growth, and challenges that the position gave him. But, with all that enjoyment came the stresses of owning an agency. Politics, media, sidekicks, reputation, rumors, and all that bad stuff weighed heavily on him. He needed to get away, where no one could find him and no one would need him, except you.

Out here in the wilderness is where he found that peace, high up and away from the chaos, - or monotony, depending on the day - that was his life. Why he wouldn’t prefer to take a vacation to a warm tropical island instead of this freezing mountainside, you weren’t sure, and though it was difficult for you to power through, you were glad you came with him.

The sight of your typical camping ground was heavenly, feeling a rush of relief when you finally laid eyes upon it. With the thick cover of still thriving pine trees above it, the ground was only lightly dusted with snow, giving you some hope that camping here for the night wouldn’t be quite so uncomfortable. Bakugou seemed to think the same as he gave a heavy sigh, one that you recognized to be of relief, before he pulled his water canister off his pack to take a swig. Once done, he handed it towards you, and you took a healthy gulp of the cold water.

“This is good,” Bakugou started, taking the canister back from you once you were done. “We won’t have to clear out much.”

“Thank goodness…” You couldn’t contain your tired groan, lifting your goggles for a moment to rub your eyes. “This has all but killed me!”

“And look, you’re still standing, like the badass woman you are,” slipping his hands beneath your hood to caress your neck, Bakugou stroked both of your cheeks with his thumbs while he leaned in for a kiss. You welcomed the affection, heat rushing to your cheeks from his encouragement and warmth of his lips against yours. “Soon we can rest.” Two more soft kisses were shared before he pulled away from you, heading towards the clearing as he shifted his luggage off his back. “I’m ready for some fucking food!”

Smiling, you followed his example, removing your pack and placing it down to dig for your compact snow shovel. “I call dibs on the mashed potatoes!”

“Like hell you do! I’ve had dibs on that since I packed it!”

The next three hours were spent shoveling away snow and ice, setting up the tent, and prepping the entire area to make a comfortable campsite. Since you planned on being here for two nights, you and your lover made extra sure that it was as perfect as it could be to enjoy the solitude. Sure, there was some playing around in between, with a snowball thrown or a slap to the behind as you were bent over your work, but it didn’t hinder your process at all. That was one thing that you loved about Bakugou, how he was so diligent in getting things done, but he left enough room to make the task enjoyable for you both.

Nothing was as satisfying as setting the fire ablaze, watching the sticks and kindling begin to burn with orange embers. That was the final step to begin your time of relaxation in the chilly winter air, to settle around the fire and begin boiling water for your food. It felt like heaven when you could finally sit, the log you had dragged over earlier the equivalent to a luxury leather couch to your sore body. Bag of climbers freeze dried mashed potatoes on your lap, you ate them with eager fervor once properly prepared, feeling like your stomach had been empty for years. Your boyfriend was the same, scarfing down his noodles before they could even have time to cool down.

“Ah, ow, fuck that’s hot-!” Bakugou spoke as he shoved the noodles into his waiting mouth, not bothering to at least blow on them or let the dusk winter air cool them off first. Giggling as you waited for the bite on your spoon to cool, you gave a shake of your head, knowing that anything you say wouldn’t stop him. There was nothing that could get between him and his food, though you figured that you could at least attempt, so that if he disagreed, you could still argue later that you had tried.

“Katsuki, give it a minute! You don’t have to eat it while it’s still hot, let it cool a little. You can always reheat it if it gets too cold.”

“No!” As expected, he glowered at you, protectively holding the bag of noodles closer to his chest, his cheeks stuffed to the brim. “I want them while they’re hot! Shut up and eat your potatoes, since you just had to have them.”

“Hey, I won fair and square. It’s not my fault you suck at rock-paper-scissors, don’t be all grumpy at me.”

Grumbling in his typical grumpy fashion, Bakugou focused on eating his noodles, avoiding looking at you in his defeat. You knew that he wasn’t actually upset with you, and you weren’t with him, so the silence that fell was just as comfortable as it always was. The crackling fire was calming, as was the heat that rolled off the wood in soft waves, and paired with the hot food, it helped to warm you from the belly out. Eventually, you finished all you could stomach to eat, and you happily rested against your lover's side with a heavy yawn.

“So,” You began, watching him scrape every little bit of food out of the noodle pack. “What was the reason for your decision to come out here this time, hm?”

“I just needed a weekend away… Before the parties and shit for the holidays begin. I can’t stand all that fucking nonsense… Especially with what happened last year.”

Your stomach churned at the mere mention of last year's horrible events, and though the two of you had gotten past that by now, those horrible feelings still crept up on you like a million spiders against your skin. Almost a year ago, you had almost lost him, but not to injury or some other tragic event. No, it was another woman, someone who he had been ‘seeing’ before you ever got his attention. Emphases on ‘seeing’, as he had never committed himself to her relationship wise, nor did she ever to him.

No, she decided that she wanted him back all these years later, after he had gotten rich, famous, and successful. So, what does she do? Barges into his agency’s Christmas party, of course, dressed to impress and showing enough skin to make any man blush, no matter if they were taken or not. And Bakugou, at this time, had been with you for just over three years, so he was very securely in the ‘taken’ category.

Did this woman know that? Yes, of course she did. Did that stop her from nearly ruining your relationship? Absolutely not.

With a small sigh, you nuzzled your nose into the warmth of his jacket against his shoulder, keeping yourself squished beside him as close as you could get. “I wish I could have been there… That would have at least made things a little easier to deal with. Maybe I could have even stopped her…”

“That woman was insane. I don’t think anything would have stopped her. I barely could.” Bakugou finished with his noodles, placing his trash and yours in a trash bag he had beside his feet. “I already told you not to beat yourself up about that, none of it was your fault.”

Although you tried to believe him, there was still a sense of guilt that rested on your shoulders when it came to how everything played out. Sick with a cold, you had been stuck at home, resting. You had recently moved into Bakugou’s apartment with him, so being without him that night had been lonely, especially since you knew he was out probably very much enjoying himself. So, you lay in bed and spent your hours moping, sleeping, and fiddling around on your phone as you awaited his return.

It was around midnight when you noticed something trending on social media, and the familiar hashtag that represented Bakugou’s brand immediately made you feel sick to your stomach. Usually, it wouldn’t have, if not for the words ‘scandal’, ‘womanizer’, and ‘cheater’ being so ominously paired with it. As you began to look at the tag, you immediately felt sick to your stomach as you were bombarded with pictures of Bakugou quite passionately kissing this other woman. Of course, at that moment, you couldn’t think rationally. All you could think of was that this was how it all ended, all the passion and love between the two of you being nothing but hot air.

You confronted him the instant he got home, after waiting until nearly three in the morning, sobbing and near hysterical. It was impossible, all his reasonings and proof that it wasn’t as it seemed incomprehensible to your broken heart. In the end, you left his apartment to instead go stay in a hotel, as you had moved far from your family and friends to be with him. Delirious with fever and emotion, you didn’t even let him know where you were staying for three days, and you figured that this would be the end of your relationship.

That is, until you saw the new trending reports of the event, including the woman filing a harassment and assault charge against Bakugou. With it, you saw the video of Bakugou throwing the woman to the floor after she quite literally pounced on him, kissing him feverishly. What had looked like passion in the pictures you had seen was now made obvious to you that it was Bakugou fighting back, only successful in pushing the woman off him once he regained his footing.

At first, you weren’t sure if you could return to him now. You had said such awful things to him, called him horrible names and treated him like he had been the bad guy in this entire endeavor. Would he even want you back after you lost your faith in him so quickly?

To your surprise, there was not an inch of hesitation in him welcoming you back home. Much unlike his usually stern and rough personality, he held and caressed you tightly to him as you cried, soaking in each other's presence and love. All apologies were accepted and forgiveness given, all that was left was for him to fully explain what happened, and he did in explicit detail. This was paired with conversations he had with the police, with other videos that you hadn’t seen before, and all the proof that you would need to see and understand that what happened was nothing but a malicious plot put into place by this other woman.

“She hasn’t admitted this,” he had told you, having not let you out of his arms for a good two hours at this point. “But I know what that bitch was up to. She either wanted to see if I would go back to her, and if I didn’t, then she was going to use my reaction to get money out of me in court. She knew that I would throw her off me, and she could claim I injured her, which is exactly what she’s done with these new bullshit charges.”

You believed him, of course, and did everything you could to support him through the entire grueling process. But there was that unconscious twinge of pain in your chest and the heavy weight of doubt every time the woman claimed that they had been communicating secretly for months prior. With every dirty detail she would give, she would stare at you if you were present, the crocodile tears hiding the malicious intent. It weighed heavily on your confidence, and the more the lies got to you, the more damage it dealt to your relationship.

It had all ended just about two months ago, when the woman finally gave up and all charges were dropped. In the end, she didn’t get a single penny from Bakugou, but his reputation had already been damaged from the bad publicity. His ratings dropped, his stress load doubled, and as a result, he was nearly always grumpy. You could barely get a word out of him, let alone enjoy each other’s company as you always had.

Up until this trip, when you agreed to go with him, you hadn’t seen him smile or get excited about anything. In that smile, that excited kiss you shared, you saw hope that things would finally turn around for the better. A year on shaky ground in a relationship had been horribly taxing on you both, but being here with him and sticking through it told you that, if you were together, you could get through anything.

Right?

“I suppose that… Well… I guess a lot of the trouble afterwards was my fault. How I handled it… I could have been better.” You carefully let your arm hook with his. “I was just… too scared and shocked… to think that we would end like that.”

“I hope that we won’t.”

“Huh?” The morbid and pessimistic comment instantly made your heart sink, sitting up to peer up at him. “What do you mean…? We’re better now, aren’t we?”

Brow furrowed deeply, Bakugou’s gaze was locked on the still crackling fire. That look of intense and blank focus is what you had seen for weeks now, as if he were contemplating something he wanted to say but was worried about the consequences. If he wanted to break up with you, to end it all, why would he drag you out here like this? Was it a last-ditch effort to see if being alone out here in the wilderness could save you?

“Katsuki…?” You couldn’t control the slight waiver in your voice as your worry grew, watching his expression falter for just a moment at the sound. As you waited for his response, you kept your grip tight on the fabric of his jacket sleeve, worried that he would suddenly up and leave you there. Instead, he only sighed, reaching up and rubbing the left side of his face before pushing the hood of his jacket off.

“Be honest with me,” Bakugou finally spoke, clasping his hands together between his knees, elbows resting on his thighs. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“What? Of course I trust you; I don’t understand where this is coming from.”

“I’ve seen it… That moment of hesitation when I tell you I’m going anywhere. For a business trip, with my friends, anywhere that you can’t go with me. That fear that something like this will happen again… You still feel that way.”

You turned a bit more to face him, placing your hand gently on his forearm. “Katsuki, that has nothing to do with my trust for you. I trust you completely, I know that what happened wasn’t your fault and you weren’t… You weren’t talking to that girl behind my back.”

Right?

“You say that, [Name], but I can still hear and see it on your face that you doubt me.”

“No, that isn’t true. I don’t doubt you at all, it’s other women out there that I don’t trust.”

I doubt myself. Am I good enough for you? Am I really worth all this trouble after what I put you through? I’m… I’m still putting him through it. I’m still hurting him.

“What type of relationship is that, if you’re going to fret and worry about everything that I go and do, even if it’s not your distrust in me? How can you be happy like that?” Bakugou let out a heavy sigh, reaching up to rub his temple. “How can we be happy like that? Constantly worried that this will happen again, and we won’t make it next time.”

“But we would. If we can stay together through this, then we should be able to tackle anything. Unless…”

Unless you really don’t think I’m strong enough…

Bakugou fell silent, chin resting in his hand, elbow on his thigh, and eyes still watching the fire. There was something new there, a sadness that you hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I wanted to come out here to see if we could find it again… That comfort and that peace that I’ve always felt with you. I figured that out here, where we had our first kiss during the middle of summer, where we were sweating like mad and you made me feel so… good. I had hoped it would come back. While we were distracted, hiking, setting up camp… sure, it felt normal, but now? Fuck, I want it back… I want us back.”

Swallowing the hard lump that had grown in your throat, you clutched onto his arm tightly, hiding your face into the fabric to try and control the urge to cry. “I-I do, too… But I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to be normal, but… We haven’t healed yet…”

“Then how can we…?”

The silence that fell was deafening, not even the crackling of fire registering in your panicked mind. Was this really going to be the end? Your years of happiness, of love and passion with this man… was it really all for nothing? That first kiss, the tearful moment he first said ‘I love you’, the feeling of being so complete just by holding his hand, the warmth of waking up every morning in his arms. It would all be gone if you both didn’t find a way to recover those things, to remember how you used to be before all this madness, drama, doubts, and insecurities.

To remember how to love each other. To not just say the words without meaning, to bring each other the joy that had been lost, the trust, and the respect. And, out here in the bitter cold, with no distractions, was where he had wanted to find it. But, just like the fire that began to dwindle down to embers before you, what little spark there had been was already dying.

Before you could even think of what to say, Bakugou gave a heavy sigh and stood. He was somehow easily about to get out of what you thought had been a death grip on his clothing, but in reality, your fingers had grown quite numb and you let him slip away. How was this happening? How could you possibly be letting him go so easily? You loved him. He was your everything, and yet, you couldn’t hold onto him. The doubt, in the world and in yourself, and your insecurities were pulling you so far away from him. And he was being pulled the other way, by his stresses, defeat, and internal struggles that you had barely even noticed.

How selfish of you, to be so swallowed up in yourself that you couldn’t see how much he needed you. No, how much you needed to be there for each other. That silence that had started with a simple ‘I’m okay, everything is fine’ was now a massive wall between you, and no matter how loudly you both tried to scream the truth across it, the other just couldn’t hear. How could you climb it, to reach each other and truly be one again? Was it possible, or would it only grow stronger the more you tried?

“Wh… Where are you going?” Was all you could say, watching as he pulled his hood back up over his head. With only a single glance back at you, Bakugou began to leave the campground, the snow crunching beneath his boots.

“It’s getting dark and we didn’t gather firewood for the morning. And I have to take a piss… You should get ready to sleep. If you wait too long to get into the bags, you’ll be too cold.”

After a moment of sitting in silence, you stood, shuffling your way over to the tent. The two of you already had the little heater machine running, as well as battery powered heating pads to warm up your bedding, and yet, sitting alone inside the small tent was lonely and cold. There wasn’t even enough space in there for the two of you to move easily, and you couldn’t help but remember all the goofy moments and accidental rough nudges that led to playful fights and heated sessions.

Craving more warmth, you changed into your fuzzy and comfortable sleeping clothes, before shuffling down into your shared sleeping bag and blankets. The space behind you was so empty, completely void of the warm body that you had grown used to being pressed against your back. You wanted him there, but not just in that moment. No, you wanted him there, always, for as long as fate would allow you to have him. You couldn’t bear the thought of it all ending like this, over a lost connection that you knew could be found again.

But now, as you lay there in the hot comfort, your exhausted body began to take hold of your even more lethargic mind. Without any willingness on your part, you were pulled into the realm of the unconscious, with only the burning feeling of tears sliding down the side of your nose keeping you tethered to reality.

When you woke, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, telling you that it was very late in the night. There wasn’t a single source of light outside of the tent, so there was no equipment, fire, or moonlight to illuminate the camp. Still, there was nothing to be frightened of, as you could hear the deep and heavy breathing behind you, a sound that you were incredibly familiar with. You couldn’t feel him touching you, except for the heel of his foot, which had come to rest in the arch of yours.

Blinking away the tears that had welled up in your eyes, you took a moment to feel around in front of you for your phone, finding it down near your hips inside of the sleeping bag. After checking the time, you found yourself staring longingly at your background picture, which was your favorite out of all the photos and videos you had ever taken with Bakugou. Sleepy and disheveled, he had his lips pressed tenderly against your cheek, holding you close within the cozy plushness of his bed.

Becoming a bit lost in the thoughts of happy memories, you scrolled through your pictures and videos, smiling in one moment and blushing fiercely in another. While scrolling, your thumb accidentally lingered just a bit too long on a video from last summer, and the sound of roaring waves filled the tint. With quick reflexes, you were able to hit the down button on your volume to mute it, falling completely still as you waited to see if Bakugou had woken up from the sound. But, in typical deep sleeper fashion, the blonde was out like a light, still snoring and breathing heavily.

At first, you considered backing out of the video, but the warm tropical beach view had you interested. Making sure the volume was down to just barely audible, you pressed play, snuggling into your blankets as you settled down to watch.

“Katsuki, my love, don’t go too far out! It’s too deep!”

“It’s not too deep, babe, it’s only to my stomach. Oh fuck, something touched me!”

The video jerked as you jumped, a small gasp escaping your lips as Bakugou was suddenly smacked with not only a wave, but quite a few decent sized jumping fish. As one hit him square in the face, you could be heard laughing, filming around your hips for a moment to see if there were any fish in the water around you.

“They aren’t coming up this far. See, you are in too deep!”

“Ugh, fuck them! Ow! Little bitches are biting my toes. Stop laughing at me, [Name]!”

As more fish leapt up out of the water around him, Bakugou made the split decision to forgo protecting himself in favor of trying to snatch one out of the air. A bit too overzealous in his attempts, he lost his footing with another large wave, and he was swept underneath with a loud string of curses--

Right at that moment, you had to pause the video, as Bakugou began to move about behind you. You had the video so quiet that you could barely hear it, so you would be very surprised if you woke him. Though, what was more surprising was how you were suddenly in his embrace, his arm around your torso and legs squeezing in to intertwine with yours. With a heavy, tired sigh, he settled with his head resting against yours, his cheek against your ear. Feeling your face flush, you could only stay completely still, unable to tell if he was even still asleep, as he tended to snatch on to you like this while deep in sleep if he hadn’t been already.

At first, you decided to just soak in his embrace, even if it did make your heart feel unbelievably heavy. The tears that had been resting in your eyes finally escaped, forcing you to sniffle and shift your body back just a bit to press tighter against him. Bakugou only held you tighter, though you nearly jumped out of your skin as he reached up and pressed the play button still showing on your phone screen.

“K-Katsuki--!”

“Shh…” Bakugou hushed you softly, tucking his hand back into place against your chest. Trembling now from a mix of shock, embarrassment, and longing, you fell silent as he requested, watching the video as it continued to play.

After a moment of being gone, Bakugou suddenly popped up out of the water beside you, making you jump and squeal in shock. “Katsuki, don’t scare me! You know the ocean makes me nervous!”

Pushing his wet hair out of his face, Bakugou scoffed, taking a second to adjust his shorts around his hips that had fallen a bit loose during his scuffle with nature. “There isn’t anything out here that’s gonna get you, babe. Except me, maybe.” Snatching onto you, Bakugou pulled you in close, so you held the phone out away from you to catch the two of you sharing a sweet kiss. Bakugou shot a quick glance up at it just before the kiss ended, as if he were making sure that you were both in the shot, which was much more malicious than it seemed at the moment.

As you pulled away, you smiled up at him, completely distracted by managing the phone and his affection. “That’s not true. There’s obviously evil fish.”

“Hm, true.” The sly smirk that crept across his lips was paired with an unseen movement of his arm as he pulled something from his swim shorts pocket, the item hidden under the water and out of your view. “Those fish are little bastards. But one is about to be pretty lucky.”

“Huh?”

What happened next was so quick that it almost made you dizzy, as Bakugou reached behind you, fish in hand. In seconds, the wiggling thing was dropped into the back side of your bikini bottoms, forcing an ungodly scream from your lips--

As the two of you watched the video flip about, Bakugou’s laughter and your squealing filling the tent, you felt the deep rumble of a chuckle against your back. You could feel his lips smirk against your cheek as well, and against your volition, you couldn’t stop your own smile and soft airy giggle.

“That was gold.” Bakugou spoke quietly, his hand moving around to rest against your stomach.

“It was mean. But funny, anyway.”

“I had to get you out of that bikini somehow.”

In the video, you had thrown the phone to land, where it stuck in the sand just perfectly so you could still see the scene without much obstruction. Sure enough, you ripped your bikini bottoms from your body as quick as lightning, struggling to wipe the gross, slimy feeling of fish off your skin.

“Yuck, Katsuki!! Oww, I think its fins scratched me! Gross!”

“Oh, did it? Guess I’ll have to inspect.”

Another squeal left your lips as Bakugou scooped you up, carrying you bridal style back towards land. “You’re not ‘inspecting’ anything after that! You’re lucky we’re on a private beach, I’ve lost my bottoms!”

“You won’t need them.”

“There are better ways to get some booty, Katsuki.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned up and kissed his cheek roughly, not paying any attention to the phone as you both walked on past it.

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it made you smile, and that’s what we came out here for.”

Knowing the rest of the video was nothing but playful banter and about ten, or more, minutes of moaning, you tapped the screen to pause it. The longing for those fun, playful, and comfortable times was incredibly heavy, settling in your chest like your heart had turned to stone. You wanted to be like that again so badly, back to when there wasn’t a single thing between you. At a loss, there was only one thing that you could think of to say, and it slipped from your lips in a trembling quiver.

“I’m sorry.”

Hearing the exact same words come from him in that moment made you turn your head in shock, looking up at him in confusion. Propping himself up on his elbow, Bakugou caressed your cheek softly, stroking your skin with his thumb. “[Name]... I’m sorry.” Even in the nearly nonexistent light, you could see the sincerity in his expression. “I’m sorry that we got to this point… I never wanted us to lose what we had.”

“N-no, Katsuki.” You placed your hand over his, struggling against the burning in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I… I kept trying to ignore it all… All the bad things and feelings, just hoping that it would go away. And because of that, I ended up not seeing how much you were hurting, too… I’m so selfish--” You immediately lost your composure, hiccupping as you struggled to speak. “I-I should have been there more for you… Not doubting you… or myself. Now, I… I feel like at any moment, you’ll slip through my fingers. I don’t want to lose you...!”

Hushing you softly, Bakugou rested his forehead against yours, still stroking your cheek even as it grew wet with tears. “It’s okay… I’m not going anywhere…”

“Y-You mean it?”

“I did a lot of thinking while you were asleep and… just watching you, I came to realize that letting what we have go would be the stupidest fucking thing I would ever do. There is no way in hell that I’m going to let that dumb bitch ruin one of the best things in my life. I love you too fucking much to let that happen.” As he leaned in and caught your lips with his in a soft yet passionate kiss, there was an intense and hot tingling that spread across your skin and all the way down to your toes. Immediately, you found yourself pressing back against him, your free hand coming up to tangle your fingers into his hair. That spark that had been missing, that fire that was so warm with forgiveness and acceptance, was burning beneath your skin and screaming with an absolute need for him.

To kiss you, to hold you, to touch you, and love you as fiercely as he always had before. The heat was already pooling and pulsing between your legs, and before you knew it, the passion had exploded into something unrestrainable. It had been so long since you had this deep and passionate connection with him that you just couldn’t resist, and so you opened yourself to him completely. Your mouth, your body, your soul. Anything that he wanted to touch, you would give it all to him.

Although there were many layers of warm clothing separating your skin, the feeling of his fingers trailing down your neck and across the curve of your chest was already enough to make you shiver. All these layers couldn’t hide the feeling of his cock pressing against your ass, so hard and eager. You were so distracted by the feeling that you barely noticed his hand slip under the hem of your bottom layers, reaching beneath the sweatpants, leggings, and underwear until he was between your legs.

Even against the chill of the tent outside of your sleeping bag, Bakugou’s touch was like fire, the warmth of his touch spreading across your skin with the pleasure of him stroking your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, rolling and stroking the fleshy button against the rough texture of his fingertips. His hands, so large and rugged, could immediately make you melt, no matter where he decided to touch you, and you couldn’t resist moaning and sighing against the kiss.

“Look at you,” He growled against your lips, that familiar lustful fire burning in his glare. “So wet for me already.”

“You should have expected that, Katsuki-” Your voice hitched as his touch became rougher. “I want you so badly…! Even though we’ve spent every night together… I just miss you so much- ah!” Moaning softly at the feeling of his fingers entering your sex, you placed your hand over his outside of your clothing, pressing with a gentle yet firm touch in a silent plea for more.

Pressing his lips against your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as he watched your expression, working his fingers within you even deeper. “I’ve missed you…” He smirked against your skin, his low voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed your expressions… That sexy voice and the way you clench around my fingers and my cock. You’re so fucking perfect.” With a slight change in technique, the palm of his hand began to stroke across your clit with each movement of his fingers within you, and the sudden increase in pleasure made your hips begin to move with him. “That’s it… You want to cum on my fingers, baby?”

“I-I want to cum on your dick,” Although you did in fact want to cum already, you wanted to feel him, to be connected to him in a way that no one else could feel. “I want you inside of me, Katsuki! Please fill me up!”

“Is that so?” He nibbled and bit playfully at your neck, the slight sparks of pain only increasing the pleasure, along with his ever-increasing roughness of his fingers inside you. “Beg a little harder.”

Now trying to hold your body back so you wouldn’t cum, you moved your hand to instead clutch onto his arm, breathing and panting heavily. “P-please! I want your dick inside me! Please give it to me, Katsuki! Please give me what I’ve been missing!”

“What have you been missing?”

“You-! Everything about you! I-I, I can’t- oh fuck!” Your voice squeaked with a moan as his fingers reached even deeper within you. “I can’t hold it, Katsuki-- please!”

Right before you lost control, Bakugou removed his fingers from you, leaving your body aching and trembling. “Fine,” He growled into your ear, pushing your bottoms down with little help from your numb fingers. “Just don’t moan too loudly. You’ll cause an avalanche.” After you pulled one leg completely free from your clothing, you allowed him to hold it up and out of the way. His cock having already been set free, you could feel it pressing against your sex, hot and pulsing with anticipation.

You knew that he had been missing you just as much, that the meaningless little quickies here and there meant as little to him as they did to you. No, this was different, a raging need to be one, to pleasure each other and bring that lost connection. How good it felt as he entered you was something you didn’t expect, however, and the instant he was buried as deep as he could within you, you came.

Twitching and constricting against him, Bakugou gave a pleasured groan into your shoulder, lightly bucking his hips to stir your walls and only prolong the pleasure for you. “Ah fucking damn it! You’re so fucking horny, cumming on my dick already. I should punish you for cumming so quickly.”

“Punish me, Katsuki,” Rolling your hips back against him, Bakugou couldn’t resist another hiss into your shoulder, gripping onto your hip tightly. “Fuck me until I can’t stop cumming.” You could already feel the pleasure starting to grow just from your own movements, arching your back to allow him in even deeper. “I’m yours! Please do whatever you want with me!”

“That’s right, [Name],” Bakugou began to rock his hips, thrusting in and out of you at a quick, rough pace. “You’re mine.” As he set his pace, you turned your head more into your pillow, gasping and moaning uncontrollably into the fabric. His cock was heaven as it slid in and out of you, reaching into your depths and not leaving a single inch of you untouched. Over the years, he had learned exactly what you liked to make sure you always had the best experience, cumming over and over again without control.

That’s exactly what he did to you now, melting you into a putty of moaning flesh in his hands. He caressed and squeezed every inch of your skin that he could reach, from your thighs to your hips, your stomach and your breasts, exploring your body and your skin like he had never experienced it before. His grunts and moans into your ear only made it more irresistible, loving the thought that he was so turned on by you that he couldn’t help himself.

By the time his hand came up to wrap around your throat, you were both nearly dripping with sweat, having completely shed all clothing and bedding before switching positions. Now on your back, the slight constricting against your throat made you feel breathless, the pleasure spiking as he only fucked you harder. You knew your eyes were rolled back and the pleasured smile on your face would probably have any bystander think you’re insane, but you didn’t care. It felt so good to be ravaged by him, his strong and muscular frame enough to drive you mad just looking at him. But to be able to touch him, to hold him and have him as yours was a complete and absolute dream, and as you came again, you felt suddenly overwhelmed with all the regret and struggles you had gone through.

Not quite noticing the change in emotion, Bakugou released your neck to rest more against you, digging his fingers into your hair as he kissed you fiercely. It was difficult to restrain the urge to moan against the kiss, but his tongue invading your open mouth was enough to keep you distracted. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, you dug your nails into his skin, gifting him with red marks that matched the rest. The feeling made him growl against your lips, only fucking you harder. “Damn it, you drive me fucking crazy--”

The hitching of his voice told you that he was getting close, and although you had been completely drowned in pleasure at this point, there was still another ball growing tighter in your core. As it grew, so did the emotion, and the tears welling up in your eyes were immediately noticed by the passionate man holding you. Before you could say anything, Bakugou kissed you again, though it was different. It wasn’t filled with a lustful craze like a moment ago. Instead, it was passionate, a soft and loving brushing of lips. The emotion, passion, and love that filled you was too much to bear, and just as your orgasm hit you hard, the tears spilled down along your burning cheeks. Your constricting walls instantly put Bakugou over the edge, his last few thrusts erratic as he filled you to the brim with his cum. It was so incredibly hot against the forgotten chill of the air around you that you couldn’t stop from shivering, holding onto him tighter to try and retain the heat as much as you could.

Even as you both panted, the kiss refused to end, not parting until the need to breathe was impossible to ignore. “Katsuki,” You sighed against his lips, looking up into that fierce crimson gaze that you adored. “I love you. I love you so damn much, I don’t even know how to say it.”

Wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs, Bakugou kissed your sore lips softly. “I don’t know how to say it, either. But I fucking love you, too, you beautiful damn brat. My dumbass,” another soft kiss. “My idiot,” and another. “My baby,” and once more. “My perfect woman.”

Your cheeks somehow grew hotter with each gentle kiss, unable to resist a smile after he finished showering you with affection. “You’re so sweet. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Nah. I think I’m the luckiest guy. And don’t argue with me about that! It's a fact!” He interrupted you with a rough kiss to your cheek before you could even say anything, making you burst out into giggles and hug him tightly.

“Okay, okay! Don’t attack me.”

“I’ll attack you all I want to. You’re so fucking cute all sweaty and messy, makes me want to just mess you up more.”

“You can mess me up plenty in a little bit. But uhm… I really need to pee.”

“Me too. I bet you can’t even make it to the trees before you run back in here.”

“I’ll do you one better. If I don’t make it, I’ll give you a massage. But if I do, then you have to rub me down. I’m sore!”

“We have to go out naked.”

“Butt ass naked.”

“You’re on, baby. I look forward to that massage.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #xreader #personal #cutesuki-lemons

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brasskier · 3 years

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Here, have an angsty, tiny little fic about Jaskier finding an abandoned shack on the way down the mountain and living as a hermit for a couple months until winter. Inspired by the absolutely hysterical mopey bard pics we got from Witchmas. I’ll eventually put it on AO3, but for now just read it here, below the cut.

When Jaskier stumbles upon the little shack three-quarters of the way down the mountain, he only intends to stay there just for one night. Take a load off, keep safe from any stray monsters that might be lurking about, and ensure he won't accidentally run into a certain witcher. But the shack is actually pretty cozy, and there's some furniture left inside that with a little TLC could easily be salvaged. He's close enough to Caingorn to drop by if he needed something or wanted to workshop a new ballad. So just for the night becomes maybe for a week or two to get my head back on straight and then is further extended to I don't have anywhere to be until winter so why not fuck off and live in an abandoned shack?

He fixes it up nicely, nails the bed up good and tosses his bedroll over the frame so he's no longer sleeping on the ground, tinkers around with the stove until he can properly cook a meal on it, dusts and cleans until he's not sneezing incessantly from the dust any longer. Hunting becomes not only a necessity but a hobby of sorts, and even more than small game he finds himself relishing the tranquility of fishing in the river. He's still not the greatest cook on the continent, but he's managed to avoid giving himself food poisoning. He'll set back on the road for Oxenfurt closer to winter, but in the meantime this is his home. He revels in his newfound self-sufficiency and finds he has little desire or need to drop by town anymore, so he doesn't, and settles into a routine as a temporary hermit.

Geralt is sure he's dead. Every now and again a too-chatty bartender or innkeeper will ask him, "are you that bard's witcher?" He always says no, and they always keep prattling on anyway. "He was a sweet enough fellow, used to drop by 'round these parts time to time, always had that witcher with him." Geralt would grunt and nod along, struggling to be better at controlling his temper with his child surprise now sharing his company. "No one's seen 'em in a while. Reckon he's dead, the poor sod. What a shame." What a shame indeed. Geralt didn't dwell on it, pushed the thought of Jaskier's death (and his guilt) far out of mind. It was the damned bard's own fault if he got himself killed.

After the second or third identical interaction, Ciri (always too bright for her own good) seemed to catch on, summoned all her courage, and asked Geralt about it. "You had a bard, didn't you?" He did have a bard, she'd slowly learn. His name was Jaskier, he was a royal pain in the ass, and he was probably dead, most likely from his own stupidity. She knew better than to trust that Geralt would let someone he held only contempt for tag along with him for decades, but she was reaching his limit on interrogation. She didn't push any further; maybe when she finally got to meet Yennefer she'd know more.

A roving band of Nilfgaardian foot soldiers pressed them out of the way and further west. Geralt and Ciri were finally on the last leg of their journey up to Kaer Morhen; they just needed to head east and every so slightly north, and then they'd be safe. At least it wasn't terribly cold; the threat of capture meant they were wintering far earlier than usual, the trees still cast in orange and gold. But they were exhausted and never really out of harm's way. Which is why, when Geralt caught sight of an unoccupied little shack, he decides they're going to stop a little early, spend the night within the relative security of four walls. He tethers Roach to a nearby post, explains the plan to Ciri, and heads towards the door.

The shed is cleaner than Geralt had expected; far cleaner, he'd almost go as far as to say immaculate. It looks lived-in, a half-finished cup of tea still simmering on the table. Clearly, he'd misestimated the vacancy of the shack. No matter, perhaps the resident might take pity and agree to house them for the evening. He turns back towards the exit - looking like a trespasser will not help his case - but he's too late, and a voice stops him while his hand hovers over the doorknob. The voice, it calls his name. Uncanny realization settles in his gut; he'd recognize that voice anywhere.

It was a pleasant evening, sunset painting his room in pink and orange through the window, and Jaskier was enjoying his evening tea when he heard movement. Eyes wide, he catches his breath in his throat to keep from crying out, and shuffles as silently as possible back to the bed to retrieve his dagger. Moments like these were where he'd silently wish Geralt was still there, and then immediately resent himself for even having the thought. He was a grown man; he could take care of himself. Blade in hand, he clapped his free hand over his mouth when he heard the door creak open, footsteps clomp through his kitchen, a little girl's voice. He dragged closer to the source, weapon drawn, legs trembling. And then he sees a shock of silver hair, the glint of steel. He'd recognize this intruder anywhere.

"Geralt?" He called, inflection somewhere between questioning and accusatory. The witcher turns slowly to face him, dirt caked against his cheek, and for a moment Jaskier feels like he might just pass out.

"Jaskier." He grips onto the table to ground himself, thoughts spinning. And then he catches sight of her, blond curls tucked under the hood of a sooty cloak - the child surprise.

"You're…" he breathes, crossing the space between them in a few easy strides and kneeling before her. "The child surprise." He smiles fondly - looks like Geralt has finally stepped up to take responsibility. The girl cast an uncertain gaze up at Geralt. "Right. I'm Jaskier. Geralt and I, we were… well, we, uh, used to travel together." We used to be friends, or at least he used to think they were.

"I'm Ciri," the girl replied, still obviously skittish, brow knitted with confusion and uncertainty. "Geralt said you were dead." Jaskier snorted, falling back on his heels with laughter and startling Ciri.

"Dead? Brilliant, Geralt!" He waved a hand in front of himself. "I know that's what you wanted, but - gods! - did you run around telling the whole Continent that? Or did you just feel the need to feed your child surprise this lie?"

"The whole Continent told me you were dead," Geralt huffed, arms folded across his chest. "Everywhere I went, 'you that bard's witcher?' Everyone assumed you were dead - 'no one's seen the poor bastard around in months'. What was I supposed to think?" Jaskier straightened up, opened his mouth as if to speak, but Geralt kept going. "I don't-- I never said--" He raked a hand through his hair. "I never wished you were dead." Geralt wasn't sure what he expected - an exaggerated rebuttal, an exasperated shake of the head and a finger pointed towards the door, anything - but instead, Jaskier simply slunk back to the kitchen, slipped into the chair, and dropped his head in his hands.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and Ciri tugged at Geralt's arm. "I'm just-- I just-- it's just a lot, you know? Gods, it's just a lot." Geralt eyed the setting sun through the window - if he wasn't going to let them stay, they needed to get a move on. Jaskier seemed to sense his antsiness. "You can stay the night. Ciri can have my bed."

"Thank you, I…"

"Don't." Jaskier waved him off, rising from the table again. "Just don't leave the place a mess, and I want you gone first thing in the morning." Geralt nodded, and Jaskier lead Ciri to his bed. "It's not much. Sorry."

"It's plenty," she replied, settling in. "Thank you."

"Where will you sleep?" Geralt asked, tone as nonchalant as possible. Jaskier shrugged.

"I'm not tired just yet." He gently lifted his lute up by the strap from the corner. "Think I might play for a bit, just to settle me my mind." Usually, Geralt would've rolled his eyes, told him to shut up - you play that damned thing all day, just go to bed - but this was Jaskier's home, and he did little more than nod. "I'll be off for Oxenfurt in a week or two. If you find yourselves needing shelter again, it'll be unoccupied."

"Thank you." Jaskier disappeared outside, and soon the soft strum of lute strings floated in. Geralt laid out his bedroll next to Ciri and settled down for the night, trying not to eavesdrop on lyrics he realized might be about him. Eventually, the songs slowed, and then dropped off entirely, and Geralt fought the urge to get up and carry the sleeping bard inside like he’d done on a handful more occasions than he’d care to admit. Instead, he fell into an uneasy sleep, and knew that come morning light when Jaskier awoke, they’d, as promised, be gone again.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfic #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #ciri #ciri of cintra #princess cirilla #fanfic #fanfiction #post-mountain breakup

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soymilka8 · 3 years

Text

Spray Paint - Hwang Hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin X gn reader !

genre: fluff

warnings: none, just a bit of cheesy stuff tho. (this is my very first fanfiction here so i'm sorry if it's rough, i'm not really all that familiar with the layout of Tumblr yet lol.)

word count: 3.5 k words

synopsis: hyunjin helps you fulfill your dream of spray painting on one chilly christmas night.

master-list.

also, please let me know if the owner of this gif is okay with me using it! bcs i literally just searched up hwang hyunjin snow in gif.

the sound of something pulling you out of your sleep.

eyes lazily lift themself up for a better view, body suddenly going limp as you bother to make out the muffled noise. it was 1AM. usually, your figure would have been awoke at this time, with the pads of your fingertips gliding across the controller and your exhausted but dedicated eyes glued stuck to the screen.

but today wasn't one of those days. it was indeed christmas, as you observed how the snowflakes would cascade down the clean window of your dorm room. it was indeed, christmas.

you sighed delicately, snuggling closer to the warm blankets which were the only thing keeping you snug this head aching holiday. another one of those days where you couldn't sleep, another one of those sleepless nights where you were a mix of being too tired but not tired enough to get the desired slumber.

it always happened at christmas, too. it had become a tradition by now, not having the capabilities to sleep during the first fall of snowflakes.

another sigh.

somehow, this year has gotten worse. maybe by the end of the holidays, you'd be looking like a dead zombie because of the lack of sleep. you chuckled at the thought. though christmas is a holiday spent with family, friends, acquaintances and just having fun in general— you had none you'd consider as any.

ping.

— except, for maybe that one.

a grin had spread across your features as your hands nimbly reached for the phone underneath your pillow, opening the phone with your password and eagerly responding to the message. perhaps, a tad bit too excited you were but as you saw the words written on the notification, your grin couldn't help but enlarge. okay, maybe you were more than excited.

you immediately jolted up from the comfort of your own bed, grabbing a pair of warm boots and heading out the door in hurry. you couldn't bother to put on anything affable any more, your pajamas were most likely warm enough.

and so, you ran and you ran; with the delicate but heavy christmas snow disrupting you, and the cold weather wrapping around your finger like a ring, you continued on running with the same stupid grin spreading across your features.

because finally, you had something to look forward to this christmas.

“are you sure this much is enough?”

“we might need a bit more...” a battle inside of your head occured as you contemplated. it was rough, having to use your head when the weather was inhospitable and gloomy. not to mention, you were not wearing clothes suitable to which you inwardly groaned at. curse your sudden heap of excitement, curse your bad decision making.

having to decide in the cold winter weather was tiring when all you wished for were warm clothes and the abilities to turn back time, to go back to your dorm and switch attire but alas, no point in doing so as you were already out now.

all you could do was nod, shaking the can bottle abruptly and briskly walking away. the convenience store didn't provide as much warmth as you had hoped. not only were you stuck in cold weather but in your shameful panda pajamas.

“let's buy two more, at least.” a voice threw you out of your trance. you shifted slightly from discomfort, eyeing the person who accompanied you with hurry. “no, this is enough.”

“but that much paint is only gonna take us the face to draw, what about the rest of the body?”

a breathy sighed ran past you as you finally gave in, caging your body in an attempt to pass through body heat. not that you were successful in doing so. “fine, let's get five more bottles.”

a grin had spread across the other person's features, along with the redness of his nose and the moon shape of his eyes. your heart stopped so suddenly, as if the frost stuck beneath your whole stomach went away in a whiplash; it was now swarmed with butterflies, filling you up with warmness. though you couldn't see much of the face because of the beanie and his large coat enwrapping him, heat crept upon your skin at his god sent features.

he was all too perfect.

once he had returned with five more bottles, you payed at the cashier with your own money and the both of you excited the air conditioned convenience store, the both of you feeling the same exact thing: it was damn cold in there.

“here, hold the spray bottles first.” the man said to you upon exciting the convenience store as he handed you the bag filled with spray bottles. albeit hesitant, you took the paper bag and raised your brow at confusion upon seeing him remove his coat.

“hyunjin, what are you doing? it's cold, don't remove your coat.”

he only grinned at this though, now creeping closer to your and wrapping the cost around your shoulders. he pulled back, reaching for the paper bag in your hands, placing them on the ground, and inserting your arms carefully inside his large coat. you were still confused at this, appalled even as you stared at him through wide eyes.

sure, you had already felt warm because of the coat but what about him? is he not gonna feel cold? and most importantly, why would he go as far as giving you his coat?

“you can wear it for now, i'm not cold.” he answered the question inside your head, giving you the same closed eye smile he once did in the convenience store. hot, cozy, butterflies spread again in the out of your stomach. you were looking for warmth earlier but now it seemed as if it was too much it was almost overwhelming.

“... thank you.”

was all you were able to muster as he held out his hand, grabbing hold of yours, and dragging you with those large footsteps of his.

through the buried snow and the noisy headlights, you were there, to hear hwang hyunjin's heavy panting breathe against your ears and you wouldn't have it any other way.

it had always been your dream to make kids smile.

the thought of their laughter reaching your ears or simply just imagining it was enough for you— for the both of you as he promised whatever your dreams were, it was his as well.

maybe it was just the fact that you were a castaway, maybe trauma had etched itself into you far too deeply and you were afraid of being someone you hated most but whatever it is your heart was feeling inside, you were grateful he was always there beside you.

as you stare at the blank billboard in front of you, a soft smile ran down your face; your hands were holding two bottles of spray cans, shaking it slightly with a hint of excitement in your features. he was beside you, gawking at the way your eyes would sparkle at the thought of making your dreams come true.

hwang hyunjin possibly fell down a deep hole just by you. your dreams, your aspirations, your melancholic voice, your soothing comfort— you, you, you. his mind was simply filled with you.

“are ya ready, hyunjin?” you voiced out, breaking him out of his daydreaming. hyunjin shook his head abruptly, a blush covering his features and nodding at you as he followed your stare at the billboard in front.

it was big, big enough to catch people's attention. actually, no, scratch that. it was larger than the both of you had initially intended; it was more or less, enough to keep people staring and observing. still, you didn't mind as you prepped your bottles and neared the billboard.

a santa clause, reindeer, over-joyed kids, and fake reality you had planned of painting against the smooth surface the night before. having told hyunjin this, he was a bit surprised at your idea of spray painting on an enormous billboard with him. usually, it would only be him and his group of friends who'd cause mischief such as this, drawing random drabbles, art, and graffiti, waiting for the police to chase them.

he never brought you into any of his gimmick despite knowing your hands were creative. he was simply too overprotective. though he'd usually tell you of what he and his friends do every single time, at 1AM, he once again, never had the courage to tell you to come with them.

you never did, really. you never bothered to.

however, once you suddenly came in out of the blue, asking him to take you to one of the billboards with him only— hyunjin was confused and denying of this fact. he didn't want you getting in trouble for illegally doing graffiti and albeit the sound of prison romance sounding real pleasant against his ears, he knew that prison was not what it seemed like in books and novels.

though your persistence is what shook him off the most and eventually, he agreed to taking you with him to one of the graffiti spots not without manifesting that if ever the police do come, he'd be the only one to get caught.

he lazily shook the bottle around, eyeing the large and tall billboard. you had come with him once, on his graffiti trip with his friends. though it was long ago, you were still aware of what you had to do to reach the higher parts of the billboard. there were platforms, large and safe enough for you to climb onto.

and without any hesitation, you easily climbed onto one of them, surprising hyunjin as he hurriedly went beneath the platform if ever you were to fall.

“hyunjin—” you called out from above, sensing his presence underneath you as you started spray painting, “go do as we had planned, i'll be alright.” you tried on reassuring. hyunjin slowly but hesitantly backed away from you, biting his lip in the process as he continued to stare at you from above.

he felt on edge but nonetheless, he tried his best to focus as he neared the billboard and did his own part.

twenty minutes, thirty minutes, an hour, two hours, three hours— and finally.

“wah!” you heard a gasp from beside you.

finally!

you were done, the beautiful art work from beside you, displaying across as it had come to contact with the shine. it took hours of work, hours of neck pain but alas, you were done finished.

you attempted climbing off the platform, your foot walking backwards. you thought there was a ledge down there— you thought. a small yelp escaped from your lips as you had no time to process whatever it is just happened, you only felt the cold breeze of the rising sun hitting your face as you fell. it once again, felt chilling. your body froze like earlier, so cold and barren.

but before you even think of hitting the hard ground, you felt something catch you. they felt like strong, arms and you looked to the sides, only to see your only and only friend— hyunjin, eyes wide, mouth agape and delving in worry. he had caught you within his arms.

carefully setting you down onto your feet, hyunjin had sighed and lightly brushed of his pants. you were still wide-eyed, trying to process what just occured. you could've gotten a concussion down there, you could've gotten brain damage or worse— you could've forgotten about hyunjin.

the worse possible scenarios of whatever may happen to your body dissipated as you thought about ever forgetting hyunjin, you couldn't bear to lose him, not him. and without even realising it, tears started to cascade down your cheeks as your breath hitched from the sudden emotion you felt.

your heart had panged loudly within your ears, the thought of forgetting hyunjin getting louder and louder. soon, those droplets of tears turned into sobs and hyunjin looked at you with confusion and worry. his hands were fumbling with each other, confused, and maybe even heartbroken.

had he caused this?

but as if his minds were paralyzing his actions, he neared your figure, raising your chin up to look at his eyes and with his soft and gentle fingers— he brushed the tears off of your cheeks. hyunjin cooes softly, bringing you towards him further and entrapping you into his warm arms. his were around your shoulder as yours were around his waist, hugging him tightly.

“what are you crying for, you cry baby?” he teases.

“i— i don't know, it's just—” you choked on your own tears and hyunjin cooed again, hugging you tighter than ever and patting your head in the most comforting manner.

“your dream came true, right? look,” hyunjin pulled away from the hug, staring softly into your tear filled eyes as he caressed your cheeks. his head pointed into the direction of the bottom of the billboard, your head following soon after.

and there, you saw a few little kids.

you saw them, staring at the art you drew with hyunjin in awe. you saw how their eyes sparkled, how they pointed and how some would say, “look it's santa claus” or, “wow, rudolph the red nosed reindeer!”

and it warmed your heart.

you slightly pulled away from the hug, nearing the edge of the platform of the billboard and waved at the little kids who came to stare at your drawing. hyunjin followed soon after, sitting down beside you and placing his hand on your waist incase you were to fall again. he promised he'd catch you again this time.

“did you draw this with your boyfriend?” came a cheeky little kid's voice, followed by the soft teases of the other kids as they pointed towards hyunjin. you blushed, shaking your head profusely and attempting to scoot away from hyunjin's grasped.

“n-no, he's not my—” but before you can think of saying any more and moving away from him any further, hyunjin pulled you closer within his arms as he gave the little kids a small wave and his captivating smile. “i drew this with my angel, do you like it?!” he said gleefully.

the little kids followed, throwing giggles and teases of their own. some even whispered, and some just smiled upon seeing your interaction. you however, sat beside hyunjin, cowering away and covering your face with embarrassment as hyunjin waved to the little kids, playing with them from a distance.

you slapped his thigh with your free hand, still keeping the other on your face as you urged him to stop.

“hyunjin, stop, these are kids!”

hyunjin only grinned, halting his finger and heart pointing at the kids as he looked at you. his eyes had softened upon seeing how embarrassed you were and albeit the sun starting to shine so brightly, he removed your hand from your face and gave the side of your lips a quick peck.

your eyes widened, he just kissed you.

he kissed you, in broad daylight— well, not really broad daylight but the point was that he kissed you, in front of the kids!

“hyunjin, what—” and he kissed you again.

for the second time, the third time, the fourth being on your forehead, the fifth being on the tip of your nose, the sixth being under your chin, the seventh being on your cheek and the eighth on your lips.

your eyes were left agape, you couldn't hear nor feel anything anymore. the kids’ voice were a blur as you try to figure out what's real from what's fake; nothing was a dream. hyunjin really had kissed you, and so proudly at that.

you suddenly felt hyunjin lay his forehead on top of yours, the grin still very much visible on his face,

“merry christmas, angel.” hyunjin whispered, caressing your cheeks gently. the smile on his face never faded as he stared at you lovingly, those orbs hold such emotion that you felt it going through your whole body. hyunjin was there, he really was there to share your dream with him.

you smiled back, pulling out of the sweet moment and giving the kids another look. you all saw their lovestruck faces, some were covering their eyes and some held emotions with such disgust it made you chuckle. the first kiss was covered by the sun yet the following was visible, leaving them to bathe in the sweet moment you and hyunjin shared.

you gave them one apologetic smile, opening your mouth to say something until you heard something loud.

it was sirens.

the police had finally come and you flipped your head sidewards, seeing at least about five cars making their way towards the alley you, hyunjin, and the rest of the kids were at. your eyes once again widened and you froze, staring as they neared towards your figure.

you'd been with hyunjin and his friends a couple of times yet whenever the police do ever come, you always stay stuck like ice.

“angel? angel! we have to get out of here, quick!” hyunjin whisper shouted beside you, you felt his hand creep onto your cheek roughly as he squished them. his orbs seethed through yours, a sense of reassurance, safety and— warmth.

“let's bail, yeah?”

and you suddenly felt the fearful sensation within you earlier dissipate. you stood up quickly, brushing your lap and running a bit towards the side of the large platform where a small corner was held. it was enough for you and hyunjin to hide in, not to mention it was pretty well hidden and the view of the sun is beautiful. you didn't have any time to think about it's advantages though as you looked back one last time, seeing the kids’ confused faces.

you held your index finger up, winking slightly and giving them a slight nod. you hoped they would keep it a secret.

hyunjin hurriedly pulled you down, his hands intertwined with yours as his feet made contact with the rough cement. he caught you on time, grunting in the process. and hyunjin ran, keeping you on his shoulder. you didn't bother on convincing him to put you down knowing it would just end up as a huge argument and you'd much rather not initiate that now, not when the police are on the loose.

“how are you feeling, angel?” hyunjin started, settling you into his shoulder more comfortably. you stayed silent for a few seconds, contemplating your feelings and running your memory through everything that had happened today.

hyunjin and you bought spray paint, he gave you his jacket, you held his hand tightly, he helped you spray paint art, he caught you in his arms on time, he called you his, he kissed you too many times, he fulfilled your dreams.

a soft smile adorned your features, “i feel good— no, i feel amazing, actually.”

hyunjin beamed upon hearing your sentence, pulling you just a tad bit closer as he entered the abandoned shed with you still in his arms. “i'm glad.”

he settled you down, panting a bit as he observed the small shed. it was destroyed, no one inhabitated the place yet the spot was perfect for viewing the stars and the moon. there was no stars yet but what there was, was the sun preparing to shine and rise in full view.

hyunjin hurriedly held your palm, sitting down in the rough wood, pulling you on his lap. he was fixated on cuddling against you but you had no problem, even snuggling closer for his warmth. he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you just a tad bit into his chest and laying his head into your shoulder.

the sun maybe rising but it was still christmas.

“i'm glad you enjoyed today, angel.” he started, brushing a small kiss past the nape of your neck. “i really am.”

“hyunjin, thank you...”

you turned to face him, ruffling his hair slightly and giving his lips a quick peck. you were not sure if it was official yet but even so, the sudden confidence to kiss him had come.

you stared at his eyes for a moment before once again, kissing his lips, this time more slowly.

hyunjin caught on, kissing back and reciprocating the same action. his hand snaked behind your head as he kept you close to him, lips intertwining and eyes closed from the close contact. his lips felt so humid, it was intoxicating as it sent shivers down your spine.

hyunjin pulled back after the lack of air, laying his forehead against yours once more.

“anything for you, angel.” he whispered, giving your cheek another kiss. “we share our dreams, remember?”

you nodded, suddenly taken aback at the promise you made with him a few years back. his dream was yours to hold, and his was yours. it was a promised you swore to hold until the both of you fulfill it; it was one of the things keeping you binded with him.

“and wherever we maybe...” hyunjin started, now laying his head back into your shoulder and staring at the rising sun. “that dream will never change.”

and you once again nodded, the same overwhelming warmth from a few minutes, a few seconds, and a few hours coming back to you. your stomach felt the same butterflies, so did your eyes apparently as it had started watering out of the blue.

hyunjin kept you warm, hyunjin kept you safe.

he fulfilled your promise, now it was time to fulfill his.

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin is a soft boy #stream kingdom #hyunjin fanfic

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curiousconstellations · 3 years

Text

The Price of a Bean and the Cost of Love

Summary: With no clue how to defeat a villain the town can’t remember, Hook and Emma venture to the Enchanted Forest to retrieve some magical items from the Evil Queen’s castle. Along the way, they rediscover the connection they shared before they were separated by worlds a year ago. 3B canon divergence, Rated T, 8k, also on AO3 here

A/N: Happy Holidays @phiralovesloki I’m your CS Secret Santa! I hope this little fic will bring you some cheer to this wild year :) Honestly I had so many ideas after revisiting season 3 that I’m definitely down to write more S3 renaissance/divergence fics from now on!

Thank you @cssecretsanta2020 for another great event!

-/-

The more frequently they host these hushed conversations by the fireplace, the more Emma grows to despise the décor of Granny’s B&B, however cozy it may be. It’s difficult to keep Henry safe whilst also keeping him away from these discussions of the Enchanted Forest and curses and magic, so the common area of the B&B is the best option when she knows he is tucked away asleep upstairs.

Her parents and Regina are going back and forth at each other while Hook stands by the fire, raising an eyebrow every time Regina fires an insult or her mother shoots down Regina’s suggestions with judgement.

“Well, even if we could figure out who did this, they’ve done a spectacular job of making sure I can’t fight back by stripping my entire vault of anything magical that could help. I bet it’s all just sitting back at the castle, wilting away like this damn town will under this curse.” Regina bites out angrily.

They all silently reflect on her words and Emma can’t help but wish she were back in New York right now. At least then her issues would be about prying Henry away from his video games long enough to sleep and do homework, not trying to protect him from some unknown fairy tale villain who had cursed their family and friends and was turning people into flying monkeys. God, what is her life?

“What if we could retrieve some things from your castle?” Hook asks, everyone swinging their heads up to look at him curiously.

“What the hell do you mean, pirate?” Regina demands. Hook sighs and pinches his nose; a gesture Emma finds herself sympathizing with when dealing with Regina.

“I mean that I have a way of returning to the Enchanted Forest. I can use it to fetch your magical goods and then you can do your thing with your little bottles and jars and we can resolve all of this.”

“And how exactly do you have a way of getting back there?” David asks suspiciously. Hook fishes in his jacket pocket and reveals a magic bean, rolling it between his fingers slowly.

“I procured two beans, the first I used to get to Emma in New York. The second, well let’s just say I had it saved for a rainy day. Now, this cursed business is really only a slight drizzle for me, but if it will help, the offer stands.” The offer had mostly been made to Regina, but Emma finds Hook’s gaze on her. She’s pretty sure he was not offering this bean for Regina’s sake.

“Well, I don’t trust you to go alone.” Regina shrugs. Hooks rolls his eyes upward in frustration and Emma’s lips twitch a little. The man is not particularly good at hiding his emotions.

“I’ll go too.”

Her words are met with immediate disagreement from her parents, but she patiently waits for them to finish their complaints before speaking.

“Look, you’re all cursed. As far as we know, you can’t leave town let alone jump through a portal. Hook and I are the only people not affected by the curse. He brought me here to help, so this is something I can help with. I’m the saviour after all.” Emma sighs, glaring at her parents until they surrender.

“Is this even necessary? Regina, I’m sure you can cope without your things for now. We can find another way to figure out who cast the curse and defend ourselves if need be.” Snow says firmly, David backing her up with an affirmative nod and a squeeze of her shoulder.

“Isn’t it better to have and not need, than need and not have?” Hook interjects.

“See? The pirate gets it. He’s willing to give up a bean for this. What would the town say if they find out their royal highnesses didn’t do everything they could to protect them?” Regina says smugly.

“Look, guys, enough. Hook and I will go get Regina’s magical crap from the castle, end of discussion. I don’t like not having all the tools possible to face who or whatever this is.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan.” Regina says, her tone indicating it was more of a dig at her parents than actual gratitude.

“Fine. But how will you get back? You only have one bean.” David asks. Emma looks to Hook for answers, considering this was his plan to begin with. He catches her eye and clears his throat with an awkward scratch of his ear.

“I can get another bean from the same seller. I know where he is.” Emma knows he’s hiding something, and she plans on pushing him on it later, but for now she lets it slide.

“Well, how do you know that he has more, or that you can get one from him? It’s a bit of a precarious plan, especially now my daughter is coming.” David replies roughly.

“I trust that Hook will get us back, okay. We should probably get going soon and I want to say goodbye to Henry first. I know you’ll all take care of him, but he’ll think I’m leaving him with strangers, and I don’t want him to worry.” Emma heads upstairs before more disagreements break out, exhaling with relief at the tiny amount of peace the dark, quiet hallway provides.

She wakes Henry to explain that she needs to go somewhere else for work, but she will be back in no time. He’s sleepy and confused, but he smiles when she says he will be treated to all the ice cream from the mayor he wants and some lovely meals from her friends (yes, the one that was apparently her cellmate). Emma hugs him tightly and says goodnight once again, watching over him for a moment before turning off the light and closing the door.

“You don’t have to come along, Swan.” Hook says softly from behind her as he exits his own room.

“And let you have all the fun trashing Regina’s castle? I don’t think so.” She scoffs. They share a brief look, and, in this moment, she is particularly grateful for this uncanny ability they seemed to have developed of understanding each other with a single glance. It’s simultaneously terrifying and comforting to know Hook can read her so well.

Emma says goodbye to her parents while Hook gets strict rules from Regina about what to do in her castle and he looks like he’d rather switch places with her and be hugging David right now. She’s hoping they will be back pretty soon but and she’s putting all her faith in Hook’s suspiciously vague plan to get them another bean home, but her trust in him grows each time he does something selfless, chipping away at her suspicions with his surprising decency and kindness.

They head out the back behind the B&B, the frosty air nipping at her skin as she shivers. Hook’s breath comes out in clouds when he offers her one last chance to back out, but Emma simply shakes her head, and he tosses the bean on the grass. The portal swirls in front of them and a second later they’re jumping through in a dizzy haze of flashing lights and crackling sounds.

With a rough landing in between some trees and a distinct shift in the atmosphere, Emma knew they had made it to the Enchanted Forest. Well, running back to New York wasn’t exactly an option anymore.

-/-

“I walked around the Enchanted Forest in my normal clothes last time, I don’t see why it’s an issue now.” Emma grumbles, fighting with the heavy material of the skirt they had nabbed from a clothing line. Hook had already explained it to her, but he indulges her complaints nevertheless.

“We don’t know what or who has been left here after the curse. Looking like you’re from another world is a sure-fire way to gain attention, and we want to get in and back as soon as possible, right lass?” He smirks at her grumbled response as they continue down the path in the forest, squinting at the peak of the castle ahead of them. They had been walking for some time; unfortunately, the bean did not let him pick an arrival spot closer to the castle. He had thought that perhaps this time alone with Emma would be pleasant, perhaps even a time for them to reconnect after being separated for a year, but so far Emma appears to be preoccupied with her own thoughts.

“Did you miss going on adventures with me while you were in New York?” He asks teasingly, glancing over at Emma as she scoffs.

“You bet. The Big Apple had nothing on trekking through trees and beanstalks in strange lands with a pirate.” She replies humorously.

“The Big Apple?”

“It’s a nickname for New York.”

“Your land never ceases to confuse me, Swan.”

“Yeah, well, staying in New York would have meant not having to deal with the confusion of curses and villains.” He can sense the shift in Emma’s attitude with her bitter words and he sighs.

“So, you would have preferred it if I had left you alone in your new life.”

“I’m glad you came and gave me my memories back, but you have to understand how hard it’s been for me leaving that life of blissful ignorance to the existence of…all of this.” Emma waves her hands around, gesturing at the land they’re in.

“You act like knowing of the existence of magic and fairy tales is a burden. But don’t you ever think about what it has to offer, what it’s already given you?”

“When magic was the entire reason for me growing up alone? For my parents being cursed twice now? For Neal’s crappy childhood and Regina killing a bunch of people and countless other shitty things? Sorry, I’m just a little preoccupied dealing with all of that that see the beauty in it.” Emma speeds up her steps and Hook strides to match her pace. She’s clearly jaded, and she has every right to be, but he feels like he should be doing more to reason with her. He suspects that her dismissal of magic and this world will cause a chasm soon enough, pulling her further away and back into the noisy streets of the city she seems to love so much.

They continue along the path in relative silence, jumping into the trees when they hear the odd carriage or footsteps ahead as a precaution to avoid potential foes or having to explain who they are. Hook can feel the air cooling as the day progresses and he’s concerned about the few hours of daylight they have left. He hadn’t thought that they could achieve everything in a single day, but Emma’s cold demeanor had put him off broaching the topic of resting come nightfall.

The castle soon becomes visible as the trees thin and the path becomes wider. Hook is surprised that no one is around. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he had wondered if some strays left behind from the curse would ransack it or something. From appearances, it had been left alone, which was a good sign for collecting all of the necessary items Regina requested.

“The way Regina talked about this place I thought it would be beautiful, but honestly it’s kind of ugly.” Emma comments, making eye contact with him for the first time in over an hour. He smirks, nodding in agreement and pleased they can at least mock the architecture together.

“Aye, her taste is indeed questionable.”

“It’s weird to think my grandparents lived here, that my mom grew up here. I feel so disconnected from all of this.” Emma admits as they walk up the stairs to the main entrance. It’s so eerily quiet that Hook is reminded of the curse that hit everyone here, snatching them away to the land without magic. Their trek to the castle and his concerns of Emma’s longing for her old life had almost made him forget why they were here in the first place.

“Perhaps that is something you could discuss with your mother. Maybe hearing stories of her childhood and your grandparents will help you appreciate this part of your life more.”

“So that I won’t want to go back to New York you mean?” Emma asks flatly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that, like you said, you are disconnected from your history here, and maybe understanding it more will help you better accept magic being in your life.” Hook shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalant. Emma hums suspiciously and he realizes he really has no ability to pretend anything other than the truth with her.

“And perhaps I don’t want to say goodbye again.” He adds boldly. Since Emma regained her memories, he’s been dancing around his feelings for her, prioritizing her return to town and figuring out the business of this new curse. After all, she was juggling her cursed parents and her son’s own sheltered memories, she hardly needed him making things more difficult.

“There is a lot of New York you haven’t seen yet. There’s more to the city than the inside of a jail cell.” She jokes, giving him a lopsided smile. They’ve reached the main entrance now, the doors grand and intimidating in their aggressive spikes and bolts as deterrents. Hook pulls on the large handle, the door creaking loudly in the otherwise quiet entrance. The immediate hall inside is empty, no guards or thieves in sight, and they step in apprehensively.

“Are you suggesting I should come to the city with you, if you were to return?” He asks as Emma glances around in wonder.

“Well, I-” She starts, but she suddenly stops and slams into him, knocking them both to the floor as streaks of fire blaze above them. The fire singes the floor right where they had stood, fizzling out after scorching most of the entranceway. Hook looks around frantically, not seeing anyone around to cause balls of fire to hurdle at them. Emma’s heavy skirts and cloak are draped over him, her hair tickling his face as she moves off him with a groan.

“I’m sorry, it just came out of nowhere and I reacted.” She sits up awkwardly, looking around to see if any more fire could come their way as she shifts her cloak back over her bodice correctly and puffing out her now red cheeks.

“No worries, lass. I’m impressed by your quick reaction.” Hook replies as he stands, offering her his hand to help her up.

“I deal with some shifty people at work, I’ve got to be fast.” Emma shrugs. He delicately moves a curl of her hair back in place, catching her eyes as he does so. It’s the softest she’s looked since he found her in New York, a look he hadn’t seen since they said goodbye at the town line a year ago. It lasts only a moment before she looks away, but he’ll hold onto it as a sign that whatever formed between them in the cruel humidity of Neverland still lingered in her soul.

They cautiously proceed through the castle towards Regina’s tower, both on the lookout for other apparent protection spells that were still in effect. He wondered if they would find some hint of what happened before the curse, but everything seemed normal, at least for the castle of the Evil Queen. Once they find her room, they quickly grab bottles and books and trinkets from the vanity, tossing them into a sack he had in his pocket.

“Regina said she has a room where she keeps more things, but it’s sealed with blood magic so this will have to suffice.” Hook tells Emma as she sniffs one of the bottles and grimaces.

“And no doubt she will blame us if this stuff isn’t what she needs.” Emma scoffs. The setting sun reflects off the vanity mirror and Emma’s hair shines in the hazy orange glow. He admires her for a moment before stepping away to stand at the balcony, looking out the stretch of land ahead and the pastel colours of the sunset. Emma soon joins him, and they stand together and watch the changing colours of the sky in silence.

“I don’t know how Regina could stand here and see something so beautiful out there and want to retreat into this cold, dark palace.” Emma says quietly.

“Maybe she was scared of the potential life outside of this, so she retreated to something familiar.” He replies, glancing over at Emma to see his meaning was not lost on her by the way she shakes her head. He thinks she’s ready to launch into another defence of her wanting to go back to New York, but she doesn’t say anything. To his surprise, she shuffles closer and rests her head on his shoulder. They stay like that for a while, until a chill settles over them and Emma sighs wistfully.

“So where is this bean seller?” She asks, pulling her cloak around herself with a shiver.

“He should be down by the water. But we should rest for the night. It’s a bit of a walk to the port, even longer and more hazardous in the dark.” Hook replies, his stomach sinking at the thought of the next part of their quest.

“Okay, but I don’t want to stay here. I’m sure the beds in the guest rooms are nice but this place freaks me out. Is there an inn or something close by? Preferably somewhere we could find some kind of food.” Emma laughs lightly when her stomach rumbles mid-sentence.

“Aye, there’s a tavern in a village close by, if we leave now, perhaps we can make it by the light that’s left of the day. I have no idea if anyone will be there, but there may be something left behind we could salvage to eat.” Hook grabs the sack of magical items and swings it over his shoulder, ushering Emma ahead as they quickly descend from the tower.

He keeps close to Emma as they walk in the dusky light, glancing ahead as the individual trees of the forest become indiscernible and form an ominous tunnel of darkness.

“Why did you have two beans?” Emma asks, her voice breaking the quietness of the night.

“Well, why not?” He evades with a cheeky tone.

“You said you were saving it for a rainy day. I get being prepared for the worst, but it seemed like you had a specific purpose for it.” Hook thinks for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell the truth. He thinks of her head on his shoulder earlier and the way it felt so simple and easy to stand by her side in peace.

“I got a second one in case you wanted me to leave.”

“Leave?” Emma asks incredulously.

“You had a life in Storybrooke with the town and your family, and then again in New York with your boy. I came to bring you back to them, but I never had a place in that life of yours. I have stayed for the possibility that I could, but if you wished that I didn’t, I would return here and never burden you again.” Hook tugs on the sack awkwardly as they walk, almost wishing he could see her face but also relieved to be shielded by the darkness.

Emma is quiet, and the longer she doesn’t speak, the more anxious he becomes. She could easily turn around right now and tell him she does want him to leave her life, and the thought makes his chest ache.

“You’re not a burden, Hook.” She says quietly. He takes that as the smallest of victories and relaxes a little. He thinks she’s about to say more when she suddenly trips, slipping onto the ground with a painful groan.

“Swan!” He tosses the sack down and kneels beside her, widening his eyes in the dark as if that would help him see better.

“I think I hit my…” Emma mumbles. Hook gently touches her face, feeling blood already forming at the cut at her temple. He kicks around and feels a rock on the path just as Emma turns on the ground and retches.

“Concussion.” She mutters, slumping against his chest.

“Aye, that was a nasty hit to the side of your head, lass.” He says softly as he brushes her hair away from the cut. She’s in no state to continue walking, but there’s no way they can stop here for the night; she’ll certainly need food and water to ease her discomfort. He reaches for the sack and loops the string over his hook before scooping her up in his arms, much to her disoriented chagrin.

“Down, I’ve had this loads before.”

“Doesn’t matter how often this happens to you, Swan. I’m not having you wander about in the dark in this state. You’ll end up knocking me out too with your stumbling.” He teases lightly. She grumbles something unintelligible, but he takes her burrowing herself against him as resignation. Hook watches her close her eyes and furrow her brows and he hopes he can reach that damn tavern soon.

-/-

A wave of nausea hits Emma when she opens her eyes, the image of the room feeling like a puzzle her brain is too slow to piece together. A candle flickers on the other side of the room, the dancing flame making her unsteady vision worse. She slides up the bed she lays in, wincing in discomfort. Looking around the room at the simple décor, she assumes this is the tavern. To her left is another single bed, the sack of Regina’s things sitting on top along with Hook’s jacket. There is a cup and a pitcher of water on the small table in the middle of the beds and she clumsily pours some and takes a slow drink, her dry lips and throat relieved to feel the liquid.

She tentatively reaches up to touch her head, feeling a small bandage across the cut on her temple, her hair damp from what she hopes is the water used to clean the wound and not blood. The door creaks open and Emma is relieved to see Hook.

“Ah good, you’re awake.” He says softly. She notices the plate he’s carrying and practically salivates at the thought of food, but he puts it down on the table and stands beside her bed, gently lifting her chin up with his fingers.

“Your eyes look alert, I’m sure some colour will come back to your cheeks once you’ve eaten.” His fingers are warm against her skin and she feels cold as soon as his hand slips away.

“I was able to bring up some cheese and a small amount of bread, but Sylvia won’t allow any hot food in the rooms. If you are feeling well enough, we can go down a bit later for something more.” Hook explains as he passes her the plate of the ration sized portions of bread and cheese.

“Sylvia?” She asks before tucking in, happy to have a least something to put in her stomach.

“The owner of the tavern. Turns out, the curse left a few people from different villages all over. A lot of them gathered here after the curse hit and made their own sort of village. It’s a lively little place.”

“Does anyone know what happened?”

“Not in any great detail. Some were outside of the boundaries and saw it descend, but they didn’t know why. They said it was a green fog that seemed to appear from Regina’s castle. They’ve all been too scared to go there in case its dangerous, but no one knows who cast it or why.” Hook sits down on the other bed and slides out the flask from his jacket pocket. She watches him take a drink and longs for the pleasantly warm feeling of his rum.

“Have you eaten yet?” She asks, swallowing the last of the bread guiltily.

“I had some bread and cheese downstairs.”

“We should go get some warm food now. I’m still hungry and I bet you are too.” Emma says firmly as she moves off of the bed. Hook jumps up to stop her, his hand gently holding on to her shoulder like she’s going to break.

“Are you well enough?”

“Hook, I’m fine. It was a concussion; I’ve gotten them plenty of times when a skip is rough on the run and I still catch them every time.”

“Aye, but head injuries can be fatal. Just because you feel fine doesn’t mean you are.” He replies with concern. She rolls her eyes and tugs on his arm as she feels her stomach grumble in desire of more food, pulling him towards the door.

“And if I faint it could easily be from hunger. Come on.”

Hook leads the way down the stairs to the common area of the tavern, the old place dimly lit with candles scattered about, leaving pools of melted wax around them. Emma hears the buzz of chatter from the front room and is surprised to see so many people here. Hook ushers her to the table closest to the fire that was fortunately free and she hums in appreciation at the warmth. She sees him gesture to the woman behind the bar she assumes is Sylvia, who gives her a once over and smiles before leaving through the door behind her.

“The food will be here shortly, Swan.” Hook reassures her as he sits down on the bench beside her. They both soak in the heat of the fire eagerly, Hook holding out his hand in front of the flames for warmth. Emma subtly looks over him, noticing his tired eyes in the gleam of the fire and his tense shoulders. They hadn’t been able to see the light from the tavern before she hit her head, so she assumes they had still been a fair distance from it, which meant that he had walked all that way with her in his arms in the dark. He must have also tended to her wound and made sure she had a soft place to lie down when they got here.

“Hey, um, thanks for making sure I was okay.” She says awkwardly, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze. He seems surprised by her gesture, raising an eyebrow and quickly looking back at the fire.

“Of course, love.”

“And you’re not some stray dog I’m going to get rid of by the way. You’ve helped me and my family out a lot. I said that you could be part of something, and I meant it.” Emma speaks quietly, aware that they had attracted some attention from the other patrons when they came down. Hook nods and puts his hand over hers on his arm with a soft smile.

“Some warm stew for the lovebirds.” Sylvia says loudly as she comes towards them with two steaming bowls and some water. Emma gives Hook a questioning look, but he responds with his own vague expression that tells her to play along. They thank Sylvia and tuck in, Emma too grateful for the warm bowl of food to even care what’s in it. Her body instantly relaxes at the taste of food and she practically inhales the whole bowl, realizing the last warm meal she ate back in Storybrooke felt like days ago. Hook grins at her and asks Sylvia for seconds for both of them. Four bowls of stew later they turn back to the fire, feeling full, warm, and surprisingly relaxed.

“Lovebirds?” Emma murmurs to him, knocking his shoulder with her own teasingly.

“I told her you are my wife. I thought it the easiest way to explain a passed-out woman in my arms that I needed to stay with.” Hook explains sheepishly.

“I’m surprised she gave us a room with two beds then.” She scoffs.

“It was the last room left.” Hook says humorously. Emma hums in understanding but starts gnawing on her lip at the fact that a mild swell of disappointment fills her chest. She hadn’t given much thought to their sleeping arrangements beyond finding a bed outside of Regina’s castle to lie on for the night, but now that they have a room with beds of their own, she thinks about what it might have been like had there only been one. It’s ridiculous and she puts it down to the overwhelming craziness of the past few days making her yearn for some comfort and that is it.

“Disappointed, Swan?” Hook smirks, flashing her the smoldering gaze that obviously gets him a lot of attention.

“Please.” She rolls her eyes; glad her cheeks were already flushed by the fire. The heat of the fire and the tension simmering between them brings her right back to Neverland and she licks her lips at the thought of their kiss. Emma finds herself feeling the same desire to throw caution to the wind and kiss him again. It seems fitting that they are in another world again and away from her home that she can lock these moments away in the compartments of her mind that separate reality and these fantasy experiences.

Loud cheering from across the room breaks the intense gaze between them. Emma exhales and takes a drink of water, watching the group of men begin to play music. They tease each other about their singing voices as they start a song off-key, a couple of the rowdier ones getting up to dance with no coordination. The other patrons clap and cheer them on, some of them joining in with the dancing.

“Go on loves, join in!” Sylvia encourages them with a wink as she clears away their bowls. Hook grins wickedly, taking great pleasure in the way she groans with dread.

“Nope. You can’t get me up there, I have no idea what this jig type thing even is.” She says firmly, watching a couple shake their legs in strange ways as they twirl around.

“Then it’s a good thing you have a partner who knows what he’s doing.” She can’t help but stare wide eyed at Hook as he stands up, offering with his hand with a warm smile. With a wince, she puts her hand in his and lets him lead her to the middle of the room, holding on to him as he positions them for the dance.

“Remember I have a damn concussion, Hook.” Emma grumbles, breathing in sharply when he brings her closer to his chest.

“I’ll go easy on you, love.” He whispers in her ear as his stubble grazes her cheek. He guides her through some basic moves, and she feels laughter bubble up in her chest at the absurdity of the situation. They manage to jump and twist in time to the music a few times, both of them laughing at her lack of coordination despite him practically leading each of her body parts that needed to move. Emma finds herself enjoying it, giggling happily when she eventually starts to pick it up. When the music begins to pick up in tempo she sways into Hook, feeling a little overwhelmed by the fast movements. He responds by holding her waist and tucking her against his shoulder as they sway slightly. They’re no longer moving to the music, but she finds that she doesn’t care that they’re swaying slowly near the rowdy crowd still skipping about.

“How do you know how to dance like that?” Emma murmurs close to his ear.

“The crew and I would frequent taverns like this and picked it up. We even danced on the Jolly some nights, especially in the summer when the air was warm and smelled sweet.” She hears the sadness in his voice, and she realizes she doesn’t know what happened to Hook during the missing year or where his ship was.

“What happened to the Jolly?”

“An illustrious bean seller has her.” Hook says quietly, and Emma leans back to look at him. She searches his eyes, and it dawns on her what he means.

“You traded your ship for me?”

“Aye.”

She’s overwhelmed by this revelation and for the first time stops overthinking and just reacts, her lips finding his with relief. It feels warm and comforting to be in his embrace, and for the first time since leaving New York, she truly feels the spark of her old life reignited. It’s then when she feels the stir of passion and peace swell inside her a wave of exhaustion hits her and she sinks into him weakly.

“As much as I love a woman swooning at my feet Swan, you need to rest now.” Hook teases, kissing her forehead gently. They leave the boisterous fun of the tavern for the quiet chill of their room for the night and Emma practically collapses into bed, her limbs screaming out for rest. She’s already slipping into sleep when she feels Hook kiss her cheek and she dozes off to the burn of desire from the high of their kiss.

-/-

Hook wakes up to a pressure against his right side, twitching his nose at the tickle of hair. It takes him a moment to adjust to the dim light of early morning before realizing it’s Emma, pressed against him and deeply asleep still. She must have climbed into his bed at some point in the night, but he has no memory of being stirred in his sleep (he most certainly would have remembered Emma Swan coming into his bed).

The beds were small and certainly not made for two people, but he’s far from mad to have her body against his in the morning. Their kiss last night had been unexpected to say the least. Hook had been well aware that the truth of his ship’s whereabouts would come to light at some point given that they needed to find the man who had it, but he thought perhaps Emma wouldn’t realize what exactly had transpired. For the sake of their relationship, he was glad she had seemed to know the gravity of it. Hook stays in bed for a while, holding Emma as she sleeps. He dozes in and out until she begins waking up.

“Morning, Swan.” He says warmly, watching as she frowns and takes in her surroundings.

“Um, hi. I’m sorry, I was freezing.” She says all flustered, wriggling out of bed quickly.

“No worries, I was too.” Emma nods apprehensively at him, rubbing her eyes sleepily. They awkwardly dance around each other as they splash water on their faces and shrug on their cloak and jacket, ready to leave as Hook hoists up the sack. Sylvia convinces them to grab breakfast before they leave, shoving bread rolls in their hands as they head out. The port isn’t too far, but it’s another decent walk there and he’s grateful for the sustenance.

This walk feels more comfortable between them than the one to the castle and despite the awkwardness after waking up, Emma seems more relaxed now. He teases her about watching out for rocks on the path, laughing when she playfully shoves him into the grass. He feels these moments from Emma are rare, so he cherishes the sound of her laugh and the curve of her smile. They hadn’t broached the topic of New York again, and Hook thinks it best to leave it until they return to Storybrooke. Perhaps their little quest will help defeat this new foe quickly and Emma can appreciate her exposure to the magical world. Or perhaps she will decide to still go, but he can go with her. The noisy, busy streets of her city would be bearable if it meant still having her in his life.

The brilliant blue of the water rests ahead and before long he recognizes the Jolly, his heart sinking at the thought of his home belonging to another. He had wondered if he would ever see it again, which may have been the less painful scenario than seeing another captain at the helm.

“I’ll do the bargaining, lass. This is personal between Blackbeard and I, so it’s best you stay back.” Hook warns Emma as they reach the ship, still glorious and majestic in comparison to the other ships around her.

“I can hold my own, Hook. This is my bargain too, is it not?” Emma retorts. He shakes his head, wishing she hadn’t taken his words as a dismissal of her strength.

“Aye, but Blackbeard is cruel. If he sees how important this is to you, he will do something vindictive. And quite honestly, I’m concerned he will hurt you if he knows how much you mean to me.” Emma opens and closes her mouth but doesn’t seem to find the words to respond and simply nods.

She hangs back while he walks up the ramp and onto the ship, surveying the small changes made here and there. He did not see a familiar face in the crew, but most of his had been loyal and left when he did, some finding other crews to join and others venturing off elsewhere.

“Hook, as I live and breathe! I did not expect to see your sorry soul standing on this ship ever again.” Blackbeard bellows, an arrogant smile on his face.

“I’m in need of another bean.” Hook says curtly.

“You blew through the two I gave you already? What the hell are you playing at, mate?”

“Do you have another or not?”

“Aye, but the cost…do you even have anything of value left to trade?” Blackbeard inspects him, his eyes landing on the sack of Regina’s things. Hook tosses it to him, watching him catch it with intrigue.

“Take your pick.”

Blackbeard rifles through and snorts obnoxiously.

“Trinkets? Jars? What fool do you take me for? You must be desperate coming to me with this junk in search of a bean. Why do want one so badly?” Blackbeard stares intensely waiting for him to crack. Hook matches his gaze silently, but he sees Blackbeard’s eyes wander to the harbour and with a sinking feeling, Hook knows by the grin on his face that he has seen Emma.

“A woman, of course. The very same woman you needed the first bean for perhaps? She’s a beauty, that’s for sure. Well, in that case, what is she worth to you?” He challenges, smug that he has Hook in such a position.

“Name your price.” Hook grits out.

“Oh, you love her. In that case…your life of servitude for a bean. She gets the bean; I own your soul.”

Hook feels the colour drain from his face. This had been a risky plan all along, but such a bargain was so painfully steep he was taken aback. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been considering he truly does not have anything else to offer beyond his own life. But this was his plan, and he would be damned if Emma suffered because of it.

“Fine. Deal. But I get to give her the bean myself and say goodbye.” Hook says wistfully. Blackbeard actually looks surprised for a moment, but he shrugs and gives Hook the precious bean from a little pouch in his pocket, along with the sack of Regina’s apparently worthless items. He heads back to Emma, trying to keep a neutral face but struggling.

“So, you got it, right? What was the trade?”

“Here it is, Swan. Take it. You’ll be home in no time.” He evades as he curls the bean into her hand, clicking his tongue when Emma glares at him.

“Hook, what did you do to get it?”

“I’ll remain here and work for Blackbeard.”

“Okay…for how long?”

“The rest of my life I suppose.”

“No. Absolutely not, we can find another way to get back.” Emma shakes her head vehemently.

“The town needs you too much. We don’t know what has transpired while we’ve been gone, and you need to get Regina her things and be with your boy.” Hook says softly.

“They need you too.” Emma replies, reaching for his hand when he shakes his head.

“Killian…I need you.” His chest aches at the way she uses his name. Her words both fill his chest with happiness and break his heart; of course she expresses such a sentiment when they must part once more. Her fingers are laced between his and he holds her gentle hand tightly, not ready to let go.

“You don’t, Swan. You did just fine without me the for the past year.” He replies with a short humourless laugh.

“Because I didn’t remember you. If I did…I don’t think I would have started seeing Walsh. Maybe I would have-”

“No use speculating now, lass. It’s in the past, but right now you need to worry about your family and the town. Don’t worry about me.” He makes sure she has the bag of Regina’s things and kisses her cheek softly, smiling sadly when she dips her head and brushes against him.

“Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you.” She whispers.

“Good.” He responds, wishing that perhaps this goodbye will only be temporary like the last turned out to be, but the reality of Blackbeard’s bargain weighs heavily on him and Emma already feels a world away from his damned soul. They linger for a moment longer before separating, Emma exhaling and looking at the bean as she walks away from him and out of the busy docking area, turning back with a wistful smile only once. He waits until he sees her go through the portal in the distance before heading back onto the Jolly, ignoring Blackbeard’s taunts to retreat below deck.

He’s home, but without his freedom and without the woman he loves. A more sensible man would also be without hope, but when he meets the crew, he sees a few familiar faces, and the way they call him captain in hushed tones stirs something in him to fight to get back what he has lost. He’ll bide his time, but after being around the heroes, their penchant for hope has certainly inspired him.

-/-

Things never seem to slow when Emma returns. In the time that she had been gone, Regina had discovered that it had been her sister Zelena who cast the curse and she had been masquerading as Snow’s midwife. She had barely been back a day when they finally found Neal, but she lost him again just as quickly as he had come back. The reasons for returning to New York only grew with every painful and dangerous thing that happened. She even tried working on her magic and learning from Regina, but when Zelena took her newborn sibling in an attempt to cast a ridiculous time travel spell, Emma had had it.

She would be leaving for New York once her parents were settled with her brother, and not a moment later.

But the reported sighting of the Jolly Roger down by the harbour had her pause her exit plans.

Emma had avoided speaking of Hook, simply telling people when she returned that he had decided to remain in the Enchanted Forest. No one seemed convinced, but thankfully didn’t push her on it. In some twisted way she had been pleased to have so much to deal with that she didn’t have time to think about what his absence meant for her, but in quiet moments of respite, she longed for the warmth of his presence in her life.

When she gets the text about the Jolly, she races down to the docks, wishing she had taken her car as she carries Henry’s book with her rather awkwardly. She finally gets close enough to see the little figures of people walking about the deck, and if she squints really hard, she thinks she can see Hook.

It’s unmistakably him when she reaches the ship and she calls his name, smiling at his reaction as his eyes find her. She hurries up the ramp and throws her arms around him so hard the book slams into his back, causing him to chuckle into her hair.

“Hi, Swan.”

“Hi, I’m sorry I just didn’t think I’d ever really see you again. How did you get the ship back from Blackbeard? Did you use another bean to get here? How the hell does he have so many?” She rattles off, tucking the book under her arm after their embrace.

“I’ll explain all later, but more importantly, what happened here? Did you figure out who cast the curse?” He asks with concern, looking over her to make sure she was okay and frowning at the book.

“It was Regina’s sister, the Wicked Witch of the West. It was some sibling rivalry crap, but she wanted my baby brother for a time travel spell and mayhem ensued. We’ve stopped her but…I’ve lost my magic and we lost Neal.” Hook reaches out for her and she leans in to his touch, relieved to feel the spark of comfort she usually feels around him.

“I’m so sorry, Swan.”

“Look, I know how you feel about it, but I just really wanted to go back to New York after all this. Henry gave me his book to remind me of the magic that makes up our family history, and I’ve been trying but I’m just…exhausted.” Emma sighs, sinking into him when he reaches his arm out to embrace her.

“Well, I just got here, you can’t leave now.” Hook jokes softly. Emma is about to respond with a quip of her own when she sees a beam of light flash in the distance.

“What the hell is that?” Emma mutters, trying to figure out where the light was coming from. She has a horrible suspicion that it may be coming from the barn and she groans, tugging on Hook’s jacket sleeve to follow her as she heads over there.

“David left a message, Zelena died and somehow triggered the time portal.” Emma yells over the loud noise of the magic when they reach the barn.

“Emma, perhaps we shouldn’t get too close.”

“We need to close it!”

They swirl around in a magical portal once again, being thrown into another unexpected and unpredictable adventure. But, as always, Hook is by her side, and she’s realizing that despite the pain magic has caused in her life, it has also brought him into her life, and maybe it’s about facing the hardships together.

“You don’t have your magic, it’s too dangerous."

"But-"

She’s interrupted by the sheer force of the magic pulling them toward the portal and they cling to each other as they tumble on the ground roughly. They both struggle to avoid falling in, Hook using his appendage to grip onto the ground. Emma holds on to his hand, but she feels herself slipping away and she’s worried he’ll leave her to fall into the unknown hole of time. She meets his eyes, and he lifts his hook to fall in with her.

And so she decides to do just that. When their little adventure in the past comes to an end, after witnessing her parents fall in love, attending a ball, almost losing her mother, and maybe falling in love with Captain Hook along the way, she decides to make Storybrooke her home. There are the occasional foes in town, but it is a place full of family, friends, and love, and they can face anything together.

#cssecretsanta2020 #csss2020 #phiralovesloki #cs ff #captain swan

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