#and while we were in the city I met another acquaintance of mine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

renaissanceclassics · 1 year

Text

The Pilgrim's Progress: Part 22

Listen to: Book 2, 7th stage continued, at Renaissance Classics Podcast.

Now as they were thus in their way, there came one running to meet them, and said, "Gentlemen, and you of the weaker sort, if you love life, shift for yourselves; for the robbers are before you." Great-heart. Then said Mr. GREAT-HEART, "They be the three that set upon LITTLE-FAITH heretofore. Well," said he, "we are ready for them"; so they went on their way. Now they looked at every turning when they should have met with the villains; but whether they heard of Mr. GREAT-HEART, or whether they had some other game, they came not up to the pilgrims.

At the House of Gaius

CHRISTIANA then wished for an inn for herself and her children, because they were weary. Then said Mr. HONEST, "There is one a little before us, where a very honourable disciple, one GAIUS, dwells".

"Gaius mine host, and of the whole church, saluteth you. Erastus the chamberlain of the city saluteth you, and Quartus a brother." ~ Romans 16:23 ~

So they all concluded to turn in thither; and the rather, because the old gentleman gave him so good a report. So when they came to the door, they went in; not knocking, for folks used not to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called for the master of the house; and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie there that night. Gaius. "Yes, gentlemen, if you be true men; for my house is for none but pilgrims." Then was CHRISTIANA, MERCY, and the boys the more glad; for that the innkeeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they called for rooms: and he showed them one for CHRISTIANA, and her children, and MERCY; and another for Mr. GREAT-HEART and the old gentlemen. Great-heart. Then said Mr. GREAT-HEART, "Good GAIUS, what hast thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come far today, and are weary." Gaius. "It is late," said GAIUS, "so we cannot conveniently go out to seek food; but such as we have, you shall be welcome to, if that will content." Great-heart. We will be content with what thou hast in the house; for as much as I have proved thee, thou art never destitute of that which is convenient. Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name was TASTE-THAT-WHICH-IS-GOOD, to get ready supper for so many pilgrims. This done, he comes up again, saying, "Come, my good friends, you are welcome to me, and I am glad that I have a house to entertain you; and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good discourse." So they all said, "Content." Gaius. Then said GAIUS, "Whose wife is this aged matron? and whose daughter is this young damsel?" Great-heart. The woman is the wife of one CHRISTIAN, a pilgrim of former times; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her acquaintance, one that she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread in his steps. Yea, if they do but see any place where the old pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it ministers joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the same. Gaius. Then said GAIUS, "Is this CHRISTIAN'S wife, and are these CHRISTIAN'S children? I knew your husband's father; yea, also his father's father. Many have been good of this stock; their ancestors dwelt first at Antioch.

"And when he had found him, he brought him unto Antioch. And it came to pass, that a whole year they assembled themselves with the church, and taught much people. And the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch." ~ Acts 11:26 ~

CHRISTIAN'S progenitors (I suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and courage for the Lord of the pilgrims, his ways, and them that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband's relations that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. STEPHEN, that was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked o' the head with stones.

"And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep." ~ Acts 7:59, 60 ~

JAMES, another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the sword.

"And he killed James the brother of John with the sword." ~ Acts 12:2 ~

To say nothing of PAUL and PETER, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came. There were-- IGNATIUS, who was cast to the lions; ROMANUS, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones; and POLYCARP, that played the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun, for the wasps to eat; and he whom they put into a sack, and cast him into the sea, to be drowned. 'T would be impossible utterly to count up all of that family that have suffered injuries and death for the love of a pilgrim's life. Nor can I but be glad to see that thy husband has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear up their father's name; and tread in their father's steps; and come to their father's end. Great-heart. Indeed, sir, they are likely lads: they seem to choose heartily their father's ways. Gaius. That is it that I said, wherefore CHRISTIAN'S family is like still to spread abroad upon the face of the ground, and yet to be numerous upon the face of the earth. Wherefore let CHRISTIANA look out some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed; that the name of their father, and the house of his progenitors, may never be forgotten in the world. Honest. 'T is pity this family should fall and be extinct. Gaius. "Fall, it cannot, but be diminished it may; but let CHRISTIANA take my advice, and that's the way to uphold it. And, CHRISTIANA," said this innkeeper, "I am glad to see thee and thy friend MERCY together here, a lovely couple. And may I advise, take MERCY into a nearer relation to thee. If she will, let her be given to MATTHEW, thy eldest son. 'T is the way to preserve you a posterity in the earth." So this match was concluded; and in process of time they were married. But more of that hereafter. GAIUS also proceeded, and said, "I will now speak on the behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death and the curse came into the world by a woman, so also did life and health: 'God sent forth his Son made of a woman'.

"Now the serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden? And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden: But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die. And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons. And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden. And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou? And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself. And he said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat? And the man said, The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat. And the LORD God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast done? And the woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat. And the LORD God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life: And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee. And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. And Adam called his wife's name Eve; because she was the mother of all living. Unto Adam also and to his wife did the LORD God make coats of skins, and clothed them. And the LORD God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever:" ~ Genesis 3:1-22 ~

Yea, to show how much those that came after did abhor the act of their mother, this sex, in the Old Testament, coveted children, if happily this or that woman might be the mother of the Saviour of the world. I will say again, that, when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in him before either man or angel.

"And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Juda; And entered into the house of Zacharias, and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to pass, that, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost: And she spake out with a loud voice, and said, Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord. And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name. And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation. He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree. He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away. He hath holpen his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy; As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever." ~ Luke 1:39-55 ~

I read not that ever any man did give unto Christ so much as one coin; but the women followed him, and ministered to him of their substance. 'T was a woman that washed his feet with tears; and a woman that anointed his body to the burial. They were women that wept when he was going to the cross; and women that followed him from the cross; and that sat by his sepulchre when he was buried. They were women that were first with him at his resurrection morn; and women that brought tidings first to his disciples that he was risen from the dead.

"And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace. ~ Luke 7:37-50 ~ "And certain women, which had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary called Magdalene, out of whom went seven devils, And Joanna the wife of Chuza Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others, which ministered unto him of their substance." ~ Luke 8:2, 3 ~ "And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him." ~ Luke 23:27 ~ "Yea, and certain women also of our company made us astonished, which were early at the sepulchre; And when they found not his body, they came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, which said that he was alive. ~ Luke 24:22, 23 ~ "And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine." ~ John 2:3 ~ "(It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.)" ~ John 11:2 ~ "Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children. Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers. And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe. And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon him, and took the reed, and smote him on the head. And after that they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him. And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name: him they compelled to bear his cross. And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha, that is to say, a place of a skull, They gave him vinegar to drink mingled with gall: and when he had tasted thereof, he would not drink. And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots. And sitting down they watched him there; And set up over his head his accusation written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS. Then were there two thieves crucified with him, one on the right hand, and another on the left. And they that passed by reviled him, wagging their heads, And saying, Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross. Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said, He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him. He trusted in God; let him deliver him now, if he will have him: for he said, I am the Son of God. The thieves also, which were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth. Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Some of them that stood there, when they heard that, said, This man calleth for Elias. And straightway one of them ran, and took a spunge, and filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink. The rest said, Let be, let us see whether Elias will come to save him. Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent; And the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose, And came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many. Now when the centurion, and they that were with him, watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God. And many women were there beholding afar off, which followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering unto him: Among which was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children. When the even was come, there came a rich man of Arimathaea, named Joseph, who also himself was Jesus' disciple: He went to Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be delivered. And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, And laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock: and he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed. And there was Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre." ~ Matthew 27:25-61 ~

Women, therefore, are highly favoured; and show by these things that they are sharers with us in the grace of life." Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost ready; and sent one to lay the cloth, the trenchers, and to set the salt and bread in order. Then said MATTHEW, "The sight of this cloth, and of this forerunner of a supper, begets in me a greater appetite to my food than I had before." Gaius. So let all ministering doctrines to thee in this life beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the supper of the great King in his Kingdom; for all preaching, books, and ordinances here, are but as the laying of the trenchers, and as setting of salt upon the board, when compared with the feast that our Lord will make for us when we come to his house. So supper came up, and first a heave shoulder and a wave breast was set on the table before them, to show that they must begin their meal with prayer and praise to God

"And the right shoulder shall ye give unto the priest for an heave offering of the sacrifices of your peace offerings. He among the sons of Aaron, that offereth the blood of the peace offerings, and the fat, shall have the right shoulder for his part. For the wave breast and the heave shoulder have I taken of the children of Israel from off the sacrifices of their peace offerings, and have given them unto Aaron the priest and unto his sons by a statute for ever from among the children of Israel." ~ Leviticus 7:32-34 ~ "And the wave breast and heave shoulder shall ye eat in a clean place; thou, and thy sons, and thy daughters with thee: for they be thy due, and thy sons' due, which are given out of the sacrifices of peace offerings of the children of Israel. The heave shoulder and the wave breast shall they bring with the offerings made by fire of the fat, to wave it for a wave offering before the LORD; and it shall be thine, and thy sons' with thee, by a statute for ever; as the LORD hath commanded." ~ Leviticus 10:14, 15 ~ "Unto thee, O LORD, do I lift up my soul." ~ Psalms 25:1 ~ "By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name." ~ Hebrews 13:15 ~

With the heave shoulder David lifted up his heart to God; and with the wave breast, where his heart lay, with that he used to lean upon his harp when he played. These two dishes were very fresh and good; and they all ate heartily well thereof. The next they brought up was a bottle of wine, red as blood. So GAIUS said to them, "Drink freely; this is the juice of the true vine, that makes glad the heart of God and man." So they drank and were merry.

"Butter of kine, and milk of sheep, with fat of lambs, and rams of the breed of Bashan, and goats, with the fat of kidneys of wheat; and thou didst drink the pure blood of the grape." ~ Deuteronomy 32:14 ~ "And the vine said unto them, Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?" ~ Judges 9:13 ~ "I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman." ~ John 15:1 ~

The next was a dish of milk well crumbed. But GAIUS said, "Let the boys have that, that they may grow thereby".

"Wherefore laying aside all malice, and all guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings, As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby:" ~ 1 Peter 2:1, 2 ~

Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. Then said GAIUS, "Eat freely of this; for this is good to cheer up and strengthen your judgments and understandings. This was our Lord's dish when he was a child: 'Butter and honey shall he eat; that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good'".

"Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good." ~ Isaiah 7:15 ~

Then they brought them up a dish of apples; and they were very good tasting fruit. Then said MATTHEW, "May we eat apples, since they were such by and with which the serpent beguiled first our mother?" Then said GAIUS: "Apples were they with which we were beguiled; Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defiled. Apples forbid, if ate, corrupts the blood; To eat such, when commanded, does us good. Drink of his flagons, then, thou Church, his dove, And eat his apples, who are sick of love." Then said MATTHEW, "I made the scruple, because I, awhile since, was sick with eating of fruit." Gaius. Forbidden fruit will make you sick; but not what our Lord has tolerated. While they were thus talking, they were presented with another dish, and 't was a dish of nuts.

"I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded." ~ Song of Solomon 6:11 ~

Then said some at the table, "Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially the teeth of children." Which when GAIUS heard, he said: "Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters), Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters. Ope, then, the shells; and you shall have the meat,- They here are brought for you to crack and eat." Then were they very merry, and sat at the table a long time, talking of many things. Then said the old gentleman, "My good landlord, while we are cracking your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle: "A man there was, though some did count him mad, The more he cast away, the more he had." Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good GAIUS would say; so he sat still awhile, and then thus replied: "He that bestows his goods upon the poor, Shall have as much again and ten times more." Then said JOSEPH, "I dare say, sir, I did not think you could have found it out." "Oh," said GAIUS, "I have been trained up in this way a great while. Nothing teaches like experience; I have learned of my Lord to be kind; and have found by experience that I have gained thereby. 'There is that scatters, yet increases; and there is that withholds more than is meet, but it tends to poverty.' 'There is that makes himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is that makes himself poor, yet hath great riches'".

"There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty." ~ Proverbs 11:24 ~ "There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing: there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches." ~ Proverbs 13:7 ~

Then SAMUEL whispered to CHRISTIANA his mother, and said, "Mother, this is a very good man's house; let us stay here a good while, and let my brother MATTHEW be married here to MERCY, before we go any farther." The which, GAIUS the host overhearing, said, "With a very good will, my child."

#podcast #audio #story #pilgrim's progress #john bunyan #christian #fiction #renaissance #awakening #allegory #heaven

2 notes · View notes

banzaitaka · 3 years

Text

Azusa Mukami x male! reader

This is part 2 of "Angel"...and not so platonic anymore

And also not so innocent hsfgishfgdio

THIS IS DIABOLIK LOVERS FELLAS

@lonelyran

@rukasmom

There you go

TW: implied kidnapping (Yuma&Ruki hints at doing it in a conversation), mentions of selfharm (imagining (Y/N) does it to him), possessiveness?

Diabolik Lovers Masterlist

Art is mine!

The Angel's Return

It's been a few weeks since the first time Azusa and (Y/N) met. Way too long in Azusa's opinion.

Numerous times has he walked that same path again, catious of where he ends up this time. Only when he could see the city buildings in the distance he stood still. Usually he'd just look around to see if he could spot his favorite human somewhere, but to no avail.

Everytime, he returned home with a disappointed expression on his face, if only he could look deeper. His anxiety prevented him to do so, sadly.

The thought of (Y/N) being the one looking for him made him feel less bad about it though.

Just imagine...His angel returning to him with a bright smile, talking about how much he missed him, how bad and lonely he felt without him...

Azusa can't help, but smile at that thought.

And that was one of the signs that made Kou curious about what his little brother has been doing the past few weeks.

The teal-haired never responded. Kou being Kou though, he quickly guessed what it was, exclaiming it loud and proud during dinner one day, "Our Azusa found himself a human!"

The vampire in question only responded with, "He's an angel.", ignoring most of the questions his brothers threw at him.

"Why not bring him here then?", is pretty much the only thing Ruki asked.

Azusa stared at his plate, sadness clear in his eyes, "I can't find him..." "Huh? Then we'll look for him! You remember his face and name right?", Yuma suggested.

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"I know he'll come to see me...He said it himself."

The brothers were a bit skeptical about that, but this was Azusa's human, so it was Azusa's desicion.

Yuma clicked his tongue, "Fine then. But when he doesn't show up soon, we're ready to get him here."

And at the same time, at another place...

"You sure you want to go? Alone?", Akito asked, frowning at his friend who was just talking exactly about what Azusa hoped for.

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I don't have to go inside. We could just take a stroll around.", (Y/N) responded, while scrolling through his Google Maps history to find the vampire's address.

"...", Dakota stared at the (Y/HC)-haired, "You know...being the dumb and naive one is my job in this friend group."

Akito nodded wildly, "He's absolutely right! When did you turn into such a dumbass, dumbass!?"

(Y/N) pursed his lips, "He's cute, alright??"

Akito and Dakota froze.

They froze for a long while.

"SIMP!!! SIMP!!! SIMP!!!", they chanted simultaneously, while pointing their fingers at (Y/N).

"Shut up, would ya!?"

And they did.

But that didn't stop them from following their friend to the mansion, though.

They were really suspicious of that Azusa guy. Sure, he seemed like having his own problems and such, but what happened exactly to make (Y/N) so fond of him??

He can't possibly be that cute right?

Dakota, a bisexual, wanted to find out, 'vibe check' him as he called it.

They ended up agreeing to take that as an excuse to stalk (Y/N) all the way out there. Not because they were scared something might happen to their dear friend, no-

If (Y/N) found out about that, he'd be pretty mad. He hates it when people think he couldn't stand his own.

Yeah, he might seem like a nice and gentle guy, and he is don't get me wrong, but he can bite when he has to.

That's why he wasn't scared to pay his acquaintance a visit by himself. It was just meant as a friendly gesture anyway, he told himself while pushing other thoughts about Azusa to the very back of his mind. He was kind of embarrassed he had thoughts in that direction, honestly

The (Y/HC)-haired made himself ready to knock on the big front door. It didn't feel like a long time since he stood infront of it for the first time, eyes gleaming with interest and amazement.

He's still amazed about the fact he met someone who lived in a dang mansion. And that he never came across it before.

After taking a long breath, he finally knocked, stepping a few steps back as he waited for an answer.

He was hoping for Azusa to open the door, honestly.

If he remembered correctly, Azusa said he lived with his brothers. So there was a chance of one of them answering the door instead of him.

And well, (Y/N) wanted to dodge that awkward feeling he'd feel while introducing himself and asking for the teal-haired.

Because there was no guarantee Azusa told his brothers about him and well...Wouldn't it be weird to open the door to a stranger who claims to have helped their little brother find his way home, which is also the reason he has their address-

Now that (Y/N) started overthinking, he began to think this was quite the bad idea.

But well, he already knocked so-

His train of thought was interrupted by a black-haired man opening the door.

It's not Azusa...great.

Ruki's cold blue eyes looked the human up and down in slight interest. He certainly didn't expect a random human at his door...so it might be-

"U-uh, hello! I'm (Y/N) and- uh- I was wondering if Azusa was home?", that alone was enough to confirm Ruki's suspicion.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), his friends hid behind a tree and watched him from afar. They were too far away to be able to hear anything, but close enough to see their movements clearly.

Ruki, however, noticed them staring intensely at the two of them.

"Did you come here by yourself?", he asked, without even introducing himself before.

"Yeah, why?"

The vampire kept looking at the male infront of him, staring him down for a few seconds before accepting his answer as not a lie.

(Y/N) grew nervous under his cold gaze, but he stood his ground. This wasn't his first staring contest.

"Wait here."

Ruki went back inside, closing the door behind him as he did so.

The moment the door made a click sound, the (Y/HC)-haired exhaled a breath he didn't notice he was holding in.

"Holy shit...", he muttered to himself, "That was intense."

A few moments later, the door reopened. But instead of revealing that scary looking black-haired, it was a bashfully smiling Azusa who peecked his head through the door.

"(Y/N)...", he greeted with a voice full of longing. It made (Y/N) feel like the two of them had a much deeper connection than they actually had for a second. Why else would the shorter one be so happy to see him again?

Anyhow, the human smiled brightly at him, "Hi, Azusa!", he went to scratch the back of his head nervously, "I hope you don't mind me showing up at your door so suddenly."

"I don't mind...", he looked up at (Y/N), who was talking about how he was starting to overthink all this. As the vampire did so, he ran his fingers up and down his new scars on his left arm.

(Y/N) didn't see it since everything, but Azusa's head, was covered by the thick wooden door.

Azusa blushed slightly as he thought back to what he was doing earlier. He started to wonder if the human would really do what he imagined him doing to him if he asked nicely.

Does (Y/N) like pain too?

Either way, he didn't want to cut straight to the chase, as much as he actually wanted to, since he liked the thought of his angel keep coming back to see him. So he pulled down his sleeves and pushed back the urges to ask the taller one if he wanted to see his knife collection or anything of that sorts.

This was the first time he was so obssessed with the thought of being together with a human, having that human all to himself.

The vampire didn't want to ruin his chances and risk (Y/N) saying that he hated him before saying that he loved him. Not that Azusa would ever want (Y/N) to hate him.

Yes, his mind already went that far and he didn't mind it at all.

After pulling at his sleeves a bit more, he opened the door further, revealing the rest of his petite body. "I'm so happy you're...here.", Azusa reached out and grabbed one of (Y/N) hands in both of his.

The other was taken aback by that, both by his words and the physical touch, but he said nothing about it. He just chuckled, "I'm happy seeing you doing better, bud."

"Hmm...", Azusa wasn't really fond of that nickname, but he let it be for now.

Meanwhile behind that tree...

Akito frowned, "Alright, that's sus."

Dakota nodded in agreement, "Yes, very sus."

And back to the other two...

"So...uhm...Do ya wanna join me on my stroll?", (Y/N) tilted his head to the side, waiting for a response. And he didn't have to wait long since Azusa immediately stepped outside and closed the door behind him, "I'd love to..."

"Great!", (Y/N) responded back a bit stiffly. He certainly wasn't expecting Azusa to jump in on it so quickly. Almost as if he knew this was coming.

Or maybe he was hoping for it. Longing even.

Either way. the two of them started to walk, leaving Akito and Dakota behind them.

(Y/N) has yet to notice them, unlike Azusa who got the info from his brother. Azusa really hoped they would just go away and leave them be.

But the two teens acted against his unspoken wishes as they continued to follow their friend and his soon to be lover acquaintance crush.

Azusa was getting a little fidgety, feeling their gazes on his back. He couldn't even listen to what (Y/N) was saying properly. It was clear to him that they didn't trust him completely. He wasn't mad about it or anything, he was actually kind of glad (Y/N) got friends who cared for him like this.

But he didn't like it in that moment.

Azusa wanted to be alone with his angel and just enjoy these moments with him. He missed that certain feeling of being watched over and being taken care of by the (Y/HC)-haired.

And he really didn't want them to interrupt and ruin it by making him feel judged or anything of that sorts.

(Y/N), of course, noticed the pink-eyed starting to fidget with his fingers and lowering his head, "Hey, you okay?"

"Hmm...", Azusa stood still, making the other halt as well, "I feel like...someone is following us..."

The two of them turned their heads to look behind them, startling Akito and Dakota which caused them to trip before they could hide again.

"Wait...is that...?", (Y/N) narrowed his eyes at the two teens in the near distance, "You gotta be kidding- I- Imma be right back-"

(Y/N) speedwalked over to the two idiots, getting ready to scold the shit out of them.

Meanwhile, Azusa watched the scene, starting to feel a bit better if he's being honest. He knew (Y/N) was trying his best to make him feel comfortable. And (Y/N) damn well remembered how uncomfortable Azusa was when Akito and Dakota came over to check out what happened.

It was basically watching someone you like remove some kind of insect from your wall.

Or tell some bullies to fuck off.

And Azusa liked that very much. He was really grateful as well since there were only a few people who actually cared about his well being before. Three to be excact. And that being his brothers.

He watched with his pink eyes how the two teens left and how his angel returned to his side. Azusa was carrying a small smile on his face.

"Sorry about that...I swear they really don't mean any harm.", the taller one apologized as he bowed down infront of the vampire.

Azusa, again, took one of (Y/N)'s hands in his own. This seemed like a gesture he will recieve quite a lot, is what the (Y/HC)-haired thought.

"Thank you...", the vampire's voice was full of gratefullness and adoration. (Y/N) was starting to think he didn't deserve to recieve anything like that.

The human didn't do anything that noteworthy to make anyone feel so thankful towards him. Or maybe he did and just didn't realize it.

"Hey, no need to thank me, okay?", (Y/N) chuckled nervously, giving the male infront of him a bright smile, "That's what lovers friends do right?"

The moment these words left his mouth he widened his eyes in horror and began to stutter while a blush slowly crept onto his face, "I'm sorry, I didn't- I mean- I- uhm- It's just a way of saying-", he just kept on triping over his own words and it made him more and more embarrassed.

Friend.

"Hmm..."

It wasn't quite the word he had in mind himself, but...

Azusa looked up in (Y/N)'s flushed face, right before (Y/N) covered it up with his hands to hide it away.

...it was enough for now.

"I'm happy...to be your friend."

(Y/N) slowly parted his fingers to be able to see through them, "Huh?"

He didn't get an answer, just a sweet little smile and a tuck on his hand, urging him to keep walking.

I swear, saying (Y/N) was confused about absolutely everything would be an understatement-

Azusa, anyhow, knew he wasn't going to let his angel leave anytime soon.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers x reader #diabolik lovers x male reader #diabolik lovers more blood #diabolik lovers more blood x reader #diabolik lovers more blood x male reader #azusa mukami #azusa mukami x reader #azusa mukami x male reader #x reader #x male reader

172 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Stranger In The Crowd

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.

Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’.

The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.

Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....

C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.

How cute.

Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description

Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.

C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening

This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.

As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.

I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.

While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered.

C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know

I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.

Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet?

C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do

He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.

Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD

As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.

Now this is gonna be golden.

I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.

C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter

Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly

C ~ Just telling the truth ;)

It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.

I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.

My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.

C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....

That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia!

While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.

C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)

My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.

He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.

Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though

If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.

C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry

Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo

231 notes · View notes

theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

Tu m'appartiens // g.w.

pairing: george weasley x reader

requested: no

word count: 3.4k

warnings: some jealousy, somewhat steamy dialogue?, fluff

A/N: Ahhh! I’ve been wanting to write this for like two weeks now, and thanks to my brain deciding 3am is the perfect time to remember my high school french lessons and create a full french conversation as I’m trying to go to bed, I figured why not write it today when I’ve already got a good portion of the french out of the way. It also helps that my laptop magically started behaving again for me so I could type on here instead of my phone. I’m very excited to have this done, and I really hope you guys like it too. I feel like I’ve lost my touch for writing so I’m just trying to get back into it. disclaimer - I have never and will never claim fluency in french. All the french in this is simply from my memory of how things should be formatted with help from the internet. If you fluently speak french and notice there’s errors, don’t worry about letting me know. Just be kind about it. That or you can just ignore it for me, that’s be cool too. Anyways, I hope you guys like this!! Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @perfectlysane24 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @softlyqoos @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello @karushinekomiya @p0gue420 @hogwartslut @sebby-staan @darthwheezely @slytherin-7 @callmelilone @teenagesublimefan @hufflrpuffforfred @hopefullhearts @fredshmeasley @youralternantpersonality @stoopidwithtwohoes @sightiff @captaincactusjuice @concepcion @hufflepuffflowers @impulse-anchor @loverslane99 @fleurho @eternallyvenus @lemongrasshoney @watermelonsugar2810 @hpotterwhore @harrypotterwifey @onyourgoddamnleft @littlemisswitt @princessofmice @harleigh110 @accioalix @teenwolfbitches2 @sammy-the-gay @kaitlynw011 @midsummernightdream @stxrryxsky @fredweasleypls @pandaxnienke @georgeweasleyishot @Leovaldez37 @psychocracker @tovvaa @weasley8800 @wand3ringr0s3 @pinkypurplemagic @pineapplesandpinas @lindsaytriestowrite @amourtentiaa @georgeswhore @slytherinambitious @lovesanimals @freddie-weaselbee @the-real-santana-lopez @accio-remus-lupin @zabinizucchini @tinylumpiaa @celestialmage23 @hogwortslut123 @georgeweasleysbabe @stilinskibiles

*Translations added after each phrase!

"Mon Cheri! (Honey) I'm home. How was your day today?" Your father asks as he apparates into the kitchen. You smile, closing the fridge door as you grabbed a bowl of grapes.

"Bonjour, papa. I've been good. How about you? How was work?" You ask, taking a seat at the kitchen island while your father busies himself with taking off his jacket and getting comfortable.

"Good, good. You remember that eccentric coworker of mine I was telling you about? Arthur?"

You nod, popping a grape into your mouth. It was one of the first things he had told you about after moving here to Britain and starting work at the Ministry. You had to admit that the man sounded interesting. Bright red hair and obsessed with muggle inventions. He sounded like he'd be a fun person to talk to. Not to mention, your father had said he was extraordinarily kind and welcoming. You were glad he had met someone to get him acquainted with the new job.

"We were talking today and I had mentioned that you were going to be starting at Hogwarts beginning of September, so of course he was wondering how old you were. So I told him, and guess what? It turns out he has two sons - twins - your age."

"Vraiment (really)? That's cool, papa. You think they'll be able to help me adjust to Hogwarts?"

"I'm hoping, mon cheri (honey). Arthur invited us over for dinner to introduce us to his family, and so you could meet his children. Says he's got the twins that are your age, a boy two years younger, and a daughter a year younger than that. At the very least, you can get to know some kids before starting school, yeah?"

"Of course. It sounds like fun, papa. When did he invite us over for?"

"Sunday. Is that alright?"

"Perfect! Can't wait!"

~.~

When Sunday finally comes around, you're a mess of nerves and excitement. You nervous about meeting new people, especially kids you'd be going to school with. You didn't have any problems with school or having friends back at Beauxbatons, but being in a new country, you weren't sure what people would think of you.

It's not like you weren't a kind and friendly person, but there was the worry of people teasing you for speaking a different language. You knew English well enough, but you still had the French accent which you were sure sounded funny to others.

"Are you ready, y/n?"

You look up to see your father poking his head into the room. You smile and nod, taking a deep breath to calm your rising nerves. You weren't usually this nervous about anything, but you could feel your heart racing and palms sweating. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in front of the Weasley family.

"Yeah. As ready as I can be I guess."

He smiles, motioning for you to follow him out. You quickly grab your jacket and bag, taking one last glance around the room to make sure you weren't forgetting anything. Sighing, you decide that you've got everything you think you'll need before following your father out of the apartment to your shared car.

Since you hadn't yet been to the Weasley's home, you decided it would be best to drive there instead of apparating or using the Floo. You weren't sure exactly how far away they lived, but it couldn't have been too far.

~.~

Reading road signs, you smile as you drive through Ottery St Catchpole as it's a quaint little town with few houses spread across the land. You figured it was as beautiful a place as any to live, better than in the middle of a larger town like you and your father did. Out here you got to hear birds and nature, whereas the town rang loud with cars and chatter. You could never find any peace in the city, but there was no shortage of it here.

"Well that's nice." you hear your father compliment, looking at the slightly lopsided house in front of the two of you.

"Is this the Weasley's?"

"I believe so. It's a nice home they've got, isn't it mon cherie (my dear)?"

"Beautiful. It looks like it'd be homey inside." You smile, getting out of the car as your dad turns off the car.

"y/d/n, I'm glad to see you. This must be your daughter?" A red-haired man asks, smiling at the both of you as he comes out from the house.

"She is. It's nice to see you, Arthur. Thank you for inviting us to dinner."

"Yes, merci (Thank you) Mr. Weasley." You smile, curtseying lightly at the older man.

"It's nice to meet you, dear. Y/n, right?"

You nod and smile, shaking the hand that Arthur holds out to you.

"Oui (Yes). It's nice to meet you too."

"Well come on inside and meet my wife and our children. Get comfortable." Arthur invites, leading you and your father back to the house.

Upon entering you're met with a hug from an older woman, who you can only assume is Mrs. Weasley. Already you're liking this family, but you can't help but notice that she too sports ginger hair.

"Hello, Hello. It's so nice to meet you. You must be, y/n?"

"Uh, yes. Enchanté, Mrs. Weasley. It's nice to meet you." You smile, a small blush coming to your cheeks.

Your father was an affectionate person, but this was a whole new level. You can't say you didn't mind it though. You hadn't even been inside the house for five minutes yet, but you already felt welcomed and cared for.

"Oh, dear. Call me Molly. I'm so glad you and your dad decided to come tonight. Arthur hasn't been able to stop talking about his new French co-worker and daughter."

You nod, chuckling a bit. Your dad has been the same way about Arthur. It's no surprise that they were friends.

"When I found out how old you were, I just had to invite you all over. My children are...somewhere around here. Let's introduce you. Fred and George are in the same year, so I thought it'd be great for you three to get to know each other before classes start."

"Of course. I appreciate it tremendously, Molly. It'll definitely be nice to know at least someone when I start."

"Of course, dear. Here, one second."

"Fred! George! Ron! Ginny! Come meet our guests!"

You smile, taking the time to look around the house at all the pictures and personal touches. There was no denying that this house was full of love.

"Guests?" You hear someone ask, footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Yes, Fred. I told you all we'd be having your father's work friend and his daughter over this weekend." Molly sighs as two identical boys come into view.

You can't help but chew on your lip as you smile lightly. The two boys were definitely attractive, but you didn't want to think about that right now. You weren't looking for a relationship.

"Boys, meet Y/n." Molly introduces, motioning towards you.

"Hi. Enchanté."

" Enchanté?" they ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Nice to meet you. It's a standard greeting, guys." You hear someone else call and your attention is drawn over to the doorway where yet another ginger has appeared with a blonde attached to his arm. You're not quite sure why, but the blonde seems even more comforting than Molly.

"Bill! I'm glad you and Fleur and could make it!" You hear Molly smile, pulling the man into a hug as the blonde smiles, greeting the woman with a small hug.

"Ohh. It's nice to meet you too. I'm George." one smiles, holding his hand out for our to shake.

"I'm Fred." The other introduces, giving you a cheeky smile as you blush lightly, shaking both of their hands.

You try to find any differences between them, but there's not many. You can tell that one, George if you remember correctly, has a bit more of an oval-shaped face compared to his brother, but that’s about all you can tell right now.

“Ah, Salut! Bon soir.(Hi! Good evening)” The blonde greets, excited at having another French women in the place. She loved Bill and his family, but she did miss France. She could only imagine how overwhelmed to must feel.

“Bon soir.” You greet, smiling as she quickly kisses each of your cheeks in typical French greeting.

“Je m’appelle Fleur. Tu t’appelles est...?” (My name is Fleur. Your name is...)

“Y/n. Enchanté (nice to meet you), Fleur. Comment ça va (how are you)?” You inquire out of politeness, realizing now why she seemed so comforting to you when she walked in - she was French which was familiar, hence comforting.

“Enchanté. Ça va très bien! Et toi?” (Nice to meet you. I am very well! And you?)

“Eh, ça va. C’est trés fou (eh, okay. It’s very crazy)” you chuckle, earning a small chuckle and nod from her.

“Ah, oui (yes). You get used to it though, y/n.”

You sigh and nod, looking around at all the people currently occupying the house. You definitely did not expect this when your father had told you that you'd been invited over for dinner.

~.~

"So, y/n, dear. Are you excited for Hogwarts?" Molly asks as you all sit down and eat dinner.

"I am. I'm a bit nervous though. Never really thought I'd be transferring schools this late in my education, especially to another country."

"That's understandable, dear. Hogwarts is wonderful though. All of my children have gone there, and you'll have these four to help get you situated." She smiles, nodding towards the twins, ron, and Ginny, who you met shortly after Fleur.

"Absolutely! It'll be so much fun having you around." Ginny smiles, taking a bite of her food.

"What did you think of hogwarts when you visited, mon ange (my angel)?" You hear Bill ask Fleur.

You furrow your brows, not expecting Fleur to have attended Hogwarts.

"It was nice. Different to Beauxbatons, but I don't ‘ave any complaints." She smiles.

You nod, feeling a little better knowing that someone else had had a good experience with the school having come from another country.

"Fred and George, I'm sure, will have no problem showing you around and introducing you to people. And they'll behave for your sake." Molly indirectly threatens, a chuckle leaving Fred's lips.

"Of course, mum. We won't scare the poor girl. Not right away at least."

"Pardon (excuse me)?" you ask, a little worried about who your classmates were already.

"Ignore him, y/n. They like to pull pranks around the castle, but if they ever pulled one on you, I'm sure they know that I'll be coming for them, don't you guys?" ginny questions, cocking a brow at her two older brothers.

"Of course, Gin. We wouldn't dream of pranking y/n here." George states, both him and Fred looking a bit nervous at their sister's warning.

You chuckle, smiling at the ginger girl who is quickly becoming your favourite weasley. She sends a small wink your way, enjoying the hold she has over her brothers.

~.~

You sigh, gulping back nerves as you look at all the students around the platform. You knew that Hogwarts wasn't a small school, but you had never really stopped to consider just how many students there would be.

"You doing okay?" Fred asks, him and George coming to stand either side of you.

"Just perfect." You quip, your eyes dancing with worry as your heart pounds out the

song.

"Breathe, y/n. We'll be here and so will Ron and Ginny. I'm sure Hermione will be by your side too once she gets to know you." George reassures, resting his arm on your shoulder.

"Y/n!"

You turn at the call of your name, lighting up when you see Fleur and Bill coming your way. You luckily made friends with Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny pretty quickly, but you were beyond grateful you had made friends with Fleur as well. She has truly been the one keeping you calm and getting adjusted to Britain so far.

"Fleur! I'm glad to see you!" You smile, hugging her.

"Respire (take a breath/breathe). You'll be fine, I promise."

"Ahh, Je suis très nerveuse (Ahh, I am very nervous)." you admit. She gives you a small smile, noticing the worry in your face.

"Je sais (I know). just breathe."

You take a deep breath, watching her anxiously as she sends you a small smile.

"You will be fine. Je le jure (I swear)."

"Y/n, we better board the train soon if we want a good seat." George calls to you, nodding towards the train behind him.

"I'll be right there." You sigh, a smile playing on your lips as you watch the ginger twin you've become friends with.

"Y/n...Que penses-tu de lui (what do you think of him)?" Fleur asks you, taking notice of how much you've seemed to calm down while looking at him.

"Qui (who)? George?"

"Ah, oui." She says, as if it was obvious.

"Oh. Uh, Je ne sais pas. Je veux dire...Il est très mignon." (oh. Uh, I don’t know. I mean...he is very cute.)

She smiles, glancing back at Bill as she replies, "Je le savais (I knew it)!"

"Fleur! Shush. It's not like anything's going to come of it."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Y/n. Anyways, you need to get going! Bonne chance (good luck). You'll do great!"

You huff, frowning as Fleur shoves you towards the train and where George is standing. You adore her, but she sure is frustrating at times. How could she possibly think you have a chance with him?

He smiles when he sees you, grabbing your hand with his as he pulls you on to the train, barely giving you a chance to catch your balance from when Fleur pushed you.

~.~

"Tu es un idiot (you are an idiot), george." You sigh, shaking your head at the redhead as he makes a stupid joke.

"Hey!" he laughs, understanding what you said thanks to you teaching him a bit of French here and there.

After noticing how you spoke in french from time to time, George asked you to teach him just for fun. That and he kind of wanted to know what you were saying.

He truly enjoyed it too. He loved listening to you speak french and loved it even more when you complimented him on his pronunciation. He couldn't help but feel proud when you smiled at him because he finally understood a word or started pronouncing it right, either.

You two have become really close since you started teaching him, too. You could easily say that he was your closest friend here, but you would never complain about it. George was amazing to talk to and hang out with, always making you laugh and smile.

Although, as you had at Beauxbatons, you easily made friends here at Hogwarts. You might not have been close to any of them like you were with George, but you almost always had someone you could say hi to in the halls.

George was glad you could make friends so easily as he knew how anxious it had made you, but at the same time, he was a bit jealous. He's not sure why or when this happened, but he found himself not wanting to share you. He didn't want you being friendly with other guys, and he surely didn't want them being friendly with you.

George wasn't blind, nor was he dumb. He knew how attractive you were, having been taken aback when he first saw you that night at his house for dinner. He knew that others would find you attractive, especially since you were a new girl and had this beautiful accent. On top of that, you were just overwhelming charismatic. Not only were you kind, but you were brilliant and confident. You easily captured the attention of a room wherever you were, and maybe that's why George was so jealous. You were no longer his little secret, but rather a well-known personality among everyone.

"Are you ever nice to me?" he pouts, jokingly as you. You purse your lips in thought, following in the joking tone.

"Ehh, parfois (sometimes). I did teach you French if you remember correctly."

"That you did, ma lapine (my bunny). " he smiles, bumping his shoulder with yours.

~.~

"Yeah, if you'd ever like to study together, we could get together..."

George fumes as he watches Roger Davies shamelessly flirt with you. He knew this would start soon enough, but that doesn’t mean he'd like it. He's still jealous whenever some guy says hi to you, not that he has any right to, but he does.

As he watches you smile and agree with Davies, he can't help but start clenching his jaw together, absentmindedly grinding his teeth.

He should be the one you're talking to and flirting with, Not Davies nor anyone else. He should be the one to be bring a smile to your face and a laugh from your lips. He should be the one you're with, not anyone else.

In all reality, he's the one that fell for you first. Surely you have to see that. Or at least feel that. Otherwise why would you smile at him the way you do? Why would you spend your nights with him, even when you have Ginny and Hermione and your roommates to hang out with?

"Bonjour, mon amour (hello, my love)." you greet, having taken to calling him your love shortly after he started calling you his bunny.

"George? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" (what’s wrong?)

You frown as he looks upset, angry. You can't recall him looking this angry over anything before. Sure you've only known him since July, but that's still a lot of time for you two to see each other in a number of emotional states.

You pout, eyes filled with concern as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight to his side before you start walking to merlin knows where.

"Hey, y/n, Ma lapine."

"yes, Qu'est-que c'est (what is it)?"

You watch as George leans down, lips barely ghosting over your ear. The only reason you know he's there is from his hot breath fanning over the crest of your ear. You gasp a little, trying to contain a shiver as you feel your heart rate quicken at his proximity. You've liked George practically since you met him, but you never expected anything to happen between the two of you. He's got your mind spinning right now, however, with his actions.

"George" You mumble, turning your head slightly towards him.

"Tu m'appartiens (you belong to me)." He nearly growls, your knees becoming weak at his statement.

"Pardon (sorry)? George, what-"

"Comprenez vous? Tu m'appartiens (Do you understand? You belong to me)." He states again, butterflies erupting in your stomach as your mind blanks to anything aside from him.

"Oui...Oui (yes), George. Je t'appartiens (I belong to you)." you answer, quietly, not quite believing what you're hearing. You belong to him? Please, that's a dream. A very, very, very pleasant dream.

"Good. I don't like seeing other guys flirt with you, and I don't like seeing you so friendly with them back. I like you, y/n. Je t'aime beaucoup (I like you a lot)."

"mon dieu (my god)." You sigh, your knees still weak and the desire to kiss him only intensifying with each passing second.

"You okay, ma lapine (my bunny)?"

"You will be the death of me, george weasley. I like you, too, and merlin I want to kiss you."

He chuckles, the sound melodic to your ears, as he leans closer to you with a smile resting on his lips.

"Yeah? Can you ask me that in French?"

"The death of me, weasley." You sigh, loving the soft chuckle coming from his lips.

"embrasse-moi, s'il te plait." (please kiss me)

"I really love when you speak French, darling." He smiles, a soft groan leaving his throat before he's pressing his lips to yours.

You smile against his lips, not quite believing this is real until he nips at your bottom lip, drawing a soft whine from your body and a blush to your cheeks.

"I really like you, George. I'm so glad we met when we did." You smile, looking up into his beautiful brown eyes once you pull away from the kiss.

"Me too, darling." He agrees, pressing a quick kiss to your lips again before suggesting you go find your friends, or at the very least get out of the halls before a teacher catches the two of you.

You can't help but smile as he slides his hand into yours as you walk, squeezing your hand gently as if he needed the reassurance that you were there and real. You honestly never expected to find a boyfriend when you moved, but you were quite happy with the chain of events that led you here.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fluff #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #french

171 notes · View notes

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 6- Betrayer Moon

Summary: Temeria holds a beast that has been said to have slaughtered many. With the sweet sound of coins offered you’re ready for another wild hunt.

Warnings: lil smut we starting out with, gore and blood as per usual, fluff

Masterlist

Outside the winds are cold and snowy as the night cascades its great darkness over the land of the Continent. But none of that holds any kind of significance as you lay in the warm bed of a village tavern, Geralt's muscular body pressing flush against your heated skin. You hold tightly onto the tousled bed sheets as he thrusts into you over and over again, nothing but the sweet sounds of his grunts and your pleasant moaning filling the darkly lit room but for a simple fire in the hearth.

He deliciously rocks you into the mattress as he gently kisses your sweaty temple, sending bolts of electricity coursing throughout your entire being as you await your building climax. With each new thrust of Geralt's manhood into your entrance, you try and hold back a scream but to no avail. He quickly silences you with a heated kiss, both of your tongues dancing in the dark with one another as he pushes your legs apart even more, his large body taking you all in.

He's a lot to handle but you can take it, no matter what he throws at you. Soon he's a moaning mess as he dumps his load into your clenching walls, hitting your own high just the same, you suddenly claw at his back as he pumps himself into you a couple more times before slowly leaning up to take a good look at your blissfully beautiful face. He gently pulls out of you, falling onto the bed at your side as the both of lay in silence, the only viable sounds coming from your heavy breaths and the crackling of the fireplace.

"So, I heard something interesting today." You begin, turning on your side to lean yourself into his chest as he stares at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk gracing his handsome features.

"Do tell." He quietly mumbles.

"I was conversing with some of the whores by the market today, asking about what interesting creatures have met their eyes and whatnot. When wouldn't you know it, another Witcher had come through this very village." He raises an eyebrow, curiosity catching his interest quick, "Said he fled Temeria with some miners coin when his ass was supposed to be killing their monster. I think foul play." You inquire, absentmindedly running your fingers over his battle scars, Geralt's intrigued by your words but is honestly enjoying himself too much to care about anything else at the moment.

Sighing in deep content he shifts his golden gaze onto you, "Tonight I will blissfully ignore my problems." He muses, closing his eyes as you continue to lightly trail your fingers against his skin, "Just uh...keeping doing that." A drunken smile gracing his sweaty face, as you break out into a grin while your eyes fully take in his glistening muscular form that's laying butt-ass naked right next to you. Oh, how did you get so lucky with a man like him?

The rest of the night is spent inside one another here and there, until you both fall asleep in an exhausted heap of tangled limbs and messy blankets. The next morning you two get dressed and head for Temeria, Geralt wisely leaving Roach with the stable boy until you both come back to retrieve her, whenever that may be.

The hike to Temeria went rather smoothly, no one to bother you and the cold of the winter weather doing nothing to freeze you, considering you're practically immune to feeling cold, another wondrous perk of being half vampire.

As you walk out of the shadowy woodland you look up to see a large abandoned castle stout upon the top of a rocky hill, thick forest surrounding it. Looking ahead you notice as the trail suddenly dives into the earth, lamps held up by steel poles guiding the way in, but before this you stop to read over a poster pinned to a wooden pole.

"Temeria, realm of monsters and cowardly kings." You turn to Geralt with an amused smirk upon your face, "Well it's nice to know they don't hold anything back." You laugh before turning to walk down the descending trail, Geralt smiling as he watches you go.

Your time in the mines was a quick one, the miners and the kings men on the verge of a tiny battle that was stopped by Geralt's calm inquisition. The high guard or whoever the fuck, lead you and your Witcher out of the mines and into the shadowy snow covered woods, you're guessing with interior motives but nonetheless you follow.

As you're walking next to Geralt, with the kingsmen on their steeds to either side of you; all of a sudden you catch the scent of another being lurking in the shadows. Another heartbeat thudding in the night, then not even ten seconds later do the guards fall from their horses, enchanted by some sleeping spell. Geralt quickly pulls out his silver sword as you bare your opened hands, emitting crackling purple lighting from your fingertips, this is sorcery at play and you know just how to fight it if need be.

"You can put down your sword...and calm your lightning. I'm not here to hurt you." Speaks a woman's calm voice, her shadowed silhouette walking into view.

"Says the witch hiding in the woods." Mutters Geralt defensively, sword still held out in front of him as you slowly lower your hands, dissipating away the lightning. You can tell this mage has come with no ill intent, even if you don't adherently feel very fond of such beings, you're wise enough to understand that not all are terrible.

"Sorceress." Corrects the curly haired woman.

"Witch." He growls darkly, you lightly touch him on the shoulder, silently asking him to calm is unneeded anger, he slowly brings his sword to his side.

"Triss Merigold. I serve King Foltest." She serenely replies. A simple mage.

"So he makes a show of kicking us out...then sends his errand girl to slip me some coin so we kill his monster." Proclaims Geralt smartly, believing he's just figured her out.

"Not a very original plan for a king." You add, your brows furrowing in thought.

"It's my plan. My coin. And I don't want you to kill the beast. I want you to help me save it." Assures Triss.

"Save it?" You ask.

Wanting to hear more she takes you both into her area within the castle where she goes into more detail about the happenings in the woods. Geralt leans against a counter as you sit on a wooden table, the both of you facing Triss who stands by a desk and chair directly in front of you.

"Six years ago, stable hands statred vanishing at the castle above the city. Before long, citizens were disappearing throughout all Temeria. Foltest's royal guards soon realized the creature was coming from the crypt where the king's sister Adda is buried. Rumor has it she was having an affair with a young man in town when she died."

oh the drama, you wanted to laugh when she said that but wisely chose against that.

"Was she pregnant?" You finally ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. Maybe that's why this beast is killing people?

"If she were, that would make her child the sole heir to the throne as Foltest never married." Explains Triss as her expression changes to a thoughtful one, "The king fled the castle, ignoring the rising death toll. After Nilfgaard overthrew their king, the Brotherhood couldn't risk it happening again, so they sent me here three months ago to cure the creature."

"Vukodlaks are freak mutations." Says Geralt, mind reeling with what this creature truly is.

"They can't be cured." You add as Triss' brows furrow, "A vukodlak is a type of mutated werewolf, its a beast that conceptualizes in the womb of a dead woman, this woman however must be pregnant. It's rare, but it happens."

"How strange, maybe if I take you to the creatures latest victim then you might have some understanding as to what it actually is."

"Worth a try."

Triss leads you and Geralt through the pre-burial section under the castle where all the dead lay awaiting their final home in the ground. The place reeks of death, spices to mask the dead smell, and too many salts and herbs doing their part to delay the decomposition process.

"Two thousand orens if either of you can tell me what exactly killed these people." Says Triss as all three of you scan over the cloaked bodies laying on wooden tables.

"You didn't want the people to know that it bested a Witcher. And you let them believe that he fled with their coin." Mutters Geralt.

"You two clearly weren't acquainted." At the end of the long cavernous room does she stop at a stone tub of white salt and sand, you can smell the dead man underneath. You walk past both of them before standing in front of the tub.

Taking a breath, you reach down to wipe away the white sand until the caved in chest of the fallen Witcher is revealed. You stick your hand inside the opened chest cavity to gather a mental image of what could be missing. You look over at a curious Geralt, "His hearts missing along with his liver."

"Only one creature I know is that picky an eater. A striga." Explains Geralt while you remove your wandering hand from within the broken rib cage to wipe it off on your pants. You then turn back around to face Triss and Geralt, noting how the mages face begins morphing into that of befuddlement.

"Strigas are old wives' tales." She replies, not completely sure of herself.

You shrug, "They're very rare as are the vukodlak, but they can happen. However the only way to make one is through a curse." You add, crimson eyes trailing over the mutilated body of the dark haired Witcher. So this is really what became of that other Witcher, better him then Geralt, nonetheless he fought bravely.

"Someone wanted Adda dead." Realizes Triss as Geralt hums in agreement.

"But the curse didn't stop with Adda. It turned her daughter into a monster." Triss' head tilts in surprised puzzlement at your troubling knowledge.

"Her daughter?"

"Strigas are female. This striga's a princess." Concludes Geralt with a sigh, his gaze searching for your own perplexed expression as you turn around to face him and Triss who still looks rather disturbed.

"Well then, lets see if this king of yours is willing to let us help." You quip at Triss as you begin leading the way out of the large burial room. "Can't be that difficult now can it?"

——

"Miss Merigold, you were dispatched to settle a family affair, not to enlist a mutant mercenary and a rouge hybrid for a game of sleuthing." Argues one of the kings guardsmen as King Foltest hungrily rips apart a turkey leg, rather disgustingly if you're being honest. He even smells of meat and sweat.

"This is no game, Captain. Tonight is a full moon, Geralt and Y/N have already proved themselves to be invaluable. We believe we can cure the creature." Implores Triss urgently as she vouches for you, Geralt, and her pertinent point at hand. You just lean yourself against the rooms wallpaper as Geralt stands next to you, feeling a bit doubtful that she'll be able to convince any of them.

"You say she's a girl. Then you will refer to her as Her Royal Highness." Directs the kings guard before his other man, who instructed for you and Geralt to leave Temeria only yesterday, walks over to give his two cents.

"Segelin." He says introducing himself before continuing, "I believe urgency warrants flexibility in a court decorum. The Witcher's theory is nonsense. Princess Adda was the people's angel. Who'd wish to murder her?" Implores the man Segelin as his eyes wander over to you and then to Geralt, eyeing you both suspiciously.

"What about her lover?" You inquire, folding your arms over your leather armored chest.

"Seditious rumors. Idle courtesans trading out boredom for jealousy." Quickly replies the kings guardsman giving you a distasteful look.

"Perhaps if you'd call off your guards, if we were able to search the abandoned castle, we could find clues as to who cursed her." Explains Triss, attempting to convince the king. That's not a bad idea.

"Except, these two monster hunters would kill the princess as she sleeps, and collect the miners' coin." Argues Segelin as you simply roll your crimson eyes at the grey bearded man. What's got water up his breeches?

"Call her a princess. Call her a unicorn if you'd like to." Begins Geralt, "She grew inside Adda, feeding on her petrified womb."

"Have you no respect?!" Shouts the guardsmen defensively, the king just continues his gruesome assault on his turkey leg as he listens.

"Mutating. Growing for years till she got so hungry..." Geralt steps closer, the guardsmen laying a quick hand upon the hilt of his sheathed sword as Geralt continues unfazed, "she was forced to slither out. Rotten muscle, bent bones, two spidery legs, claws dragging in the dirt." You watch in satisfaction as the kings eyes flash with disgust. You've got him.

"An overgrown abortion." You add shrewdly, pushing yourself off of the wall as you walk next to the long table, the kings face cast down in deep thought as the other men throw you nasty glares.

"Enough." He snaps, setting down his half eaten leg of turkey.

"Your Highness?" Begins the loyal concerned guardsmen.

"Leave." Growls the king menacingly, his men nodding before making their way for the door, Triss, Geralt, and you following.

Opening up the door first, Geralt politely opens it, offering his hand for the others to follow out, you giving him a wink as you tail the guardsmen who's last to leave. As soon as you reach the doors entrance you quickly shove the guardsmen into the hallway before Geralt quickly shuts the doors on all of them, making sure to lock it as they shout their angry protests.

You listen to the pounding on the wood as you calmly walk past Geralt to the right side of the long table, leaning your hand onto the clothed wood as he casually rests an arm over a great oaken chair, opposite of the king.

"Who's the princess' father?" Immediately asks Geralt with a curious tilt of his head, the king glaring bitterly.

"My men will kill you two, bastards." He warns darkly, Geralt pulls his arm away from the chair to slowly approach him, you standing your ground while he walks past you.

Eyeing up the plump king, you slowly drag your fingers over the wood while taking small steps closer, "Your threats don't shake me, but it's funny...you learn your sister was murdered, and you didn't even flinch." Your sly remark has the king's eyes staring daggers at his roast turkey, while Geralt hums in agreement, walking himself towards a window before turning around to lean himself on a wooden cabinet as he faces the king.

"But the moment I mention the girl's father.." King Foltest purses his lips together, his eyes downcast onto the floor, "Why were you never married?" Questions Geralt smoothly, the king lets out a sigh as he leans back into his chair.

"You are speaking to a king." He proclaims with no heat is in his words, other then something else that he seems to be hiding from you both.

"That's exactly my point. Why not produce your own heir? Why not kill the striga and avoid this revolt? Why drag this all out?" Suggests Geralt, his brows furrowing together at the strange reason for everything that's happened. You walk over closer to the king, his beady eyes following you the whole time, you've already figured out the possible truth. And why must it be so disgusting too?

Raising an eyebrow, you reveal a small smirk to the glaring king, "Between the three of us, and I would dare not tell...who is the striga's father?" King Foltest appears to want to say something, almost willing to answer your question. But instead he looks to the window as he slowly rises from his seat, bringing his gaze back over to Geralt.

"I remember hearing stories about Witcher's when I was a child." He says, voice low and gravely while eying up Geralt, turning his sullen gaze upon you now, "And that of dhampirs. Is it true what they say? That you're neither living nor dead, unkillable but for silver?" Sneers the sweaty king, anger emitting from his every word, "That the mutations that grant Witcher's their...abilities. Also erase your emotions? Must be." He criticizes sharply eyeing the two of you with hate, "Cause only a person devoid of all heart could accuse a brother of bedding his murdered sister while urging him to kill her." Suddenly the doors burst open, a small handful of yelling guards racing in with their weapons bared, you don't even flinch as a second later the king throws a hand into the air, silently commanding them to halt.

He turns to you then back to Geralt, "Leave Temeria. Never return." His command is noted as Geralt gives him a nod before turning to walk out the door. You follow suit and smile at a nervous guard who looks like he might have just shit himself. The both of you silently walk out of the castle, deciding to make a new plan of attack.

——

Crouching on the roof of the abandoned castle as the wind and snow blows past your face, you slowly crawl closer to the front gates. Where two incredibly anxious guards converse about how much longer their post is until they may leave. Quietly you pull out a loose piece of the castles roofing, before chucking it into the direction of a crow where the bird and the ceiling make a loud rackety noise as they take off elsewhere. To your utter satisfaction the two nervous guards yell and book it down the cobblestone pathway and away from the castle.

Well that was easy enough.

Pleased with your harmless mischievousness, you decide to find your own way into the castle while Geralt takes the front entrance. You find a broken rotting part in the roofs wooden beamed structure where you then purposefully slip through, falling down to the floor, catching yourself at the very last moment as you levitate your body the rest of the way for a silent and painless landing.

The castle smells of mystery and dead rats as you walk quietly throughout the gloomy thing, suddenly your ears pricking to the sounds of Geralt and Triss rummaging around in someone's room down the hall. With a smirk upon your lips you stalk closer, listening to them speak about letters from Adda's mother as they both begin walking for the door.

As soon as you catch sight of Triss' oblivious face do you finally make yourself known, turning your skin the color of bluish pale grey, the whites of your eyes turning to black as your scarlet irises practically glow red. You hiss, baring your pearly white fangs, her face contorts into pure dreadful fear as she lets out a surprised scream. Geralt suddenly rushing to her side, his magic at the ready before his concerned face slackens to throw you an amused glare.

Cackling you turn back into your more presentable self, "You two find anything?" You wheeze as Triss gathers her bearings.

Breathing heavily she practically stares daggers at you, "Oh yes, just a fucking heart attack!" She breathlessly retorts, throwing you a harsh glare as Geralt walks past her. The corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk as he catches your entertained gaze, you smiling back at him like a fool in love.

"You're an ass." She mutters, shaking her head at you while she follows Geralt down the dreary shadowed hallway. An enthralled grin upon your beaming features as you tail behind them.

——

Once back inside Triss' lair of sorts within the castle walls, unbeknownst to King Foltest, the three of you let Segelin in on what they found in the ruined castle. He stands, eyes cast onto the letters, "A Queen Mother cursing her own children for their affair." He plops the old papers onto a table, "This could destroy the throne." He says dismally while leaning, both hands pressed to the wooden table.

"Sancia wanted Adda to get rid of the child." Says Geralt, concluding all that appears to be written down in those letters between Adda and her Queen Mother.

"It seems she refused. Repeatedly." Adds Triss while you all stare at the back of the man.

Segelin sighs, "And now she's taken that curse with her to the grave."

Triss clasps her hands together, "You've served the family for decades. Was Sancia involved in dark sorcery of any kind?"

He turns to look at her, "No. Of course not." His expression reveals no faults, yet you feel something is not right here. He's not nearly surprised enough about all of this.

Touching a dangling green plant that hangs out over a wooden cupboard, you raise a brow at him, "What was your relationship to Adda?"

He rests his hands casually against the long desk behind him, "Well, I like to think that she saw me as a confidant." He smiles, "And a protector, even. We used to talk at great length about her troubles. She could be very naïve."

"She ever mention her brother?" Asks Geralt from his place by the wall, a foot or so away from you and Triss' plants.

Segelin looks down at the letters, "Certainly not like this."

"She was ashamed." Says Triss as Segelin turns to face her.

"Or she was frightened. What if the relationship was not.." He pauses a moment like he can't even bring himself to say it, his eyes trail over the three of you, "..consensual?"

Geralt hums in thought at this indeed interesting bout of information, he looks to Segelin, "You think he raped Adda, then cursed the child to cover it up?"

"Well, kings have done more for less."

Geralt's eyes fall elsewhere, "True." He mutters as you mull over everything previously said. This doesn't sit right with you at all.

You take a step away from the plants, "There's only one wrinkle, though." Both Triss and Geralt watch as you stand almost threateningly in front of Segelin, they have not a clue what you're doing. The greying man eyes you nervously, you narrow your eyes at him, "Your scent was on her sheets."

Triss takes a step foreward, "Y/N?"

Your crimson eyes never leave him once, "Old ones...and new ones."

He leans away from you, "What would I be doing in a dead girl's bed?" He accuses, face shifted into a repulsed grimace. You lean in closer so that your mouth remains mere inches from his ear, he's visibly uncomfortable.

"I smelt what you were doing."

You move backwards to stand in from of the conflicted man, he says not a single word as you patiently wait for him to break. The moment lasts a couple seconds more, you can hear how loud his heart is pounding within his chest. His lip quivers, breathing increasing with anxiousness, "Foltest had no right!" Shouts the angered man while you scowl and step away, "He seduced Adda! Abused his position. He was always nagging her for attention. Always nagging! But he didn't love her....I did."

"You cursed the woman you loved?" Denounces Triss like a disappointed mother.

Segelin shakes his head, "I cursed Foltest, not her."

"Countless are dead because of your jealousy."

"Countless are dead because of Foltest!" Protests Segelin, "He spoiled Adda with his seed. He refuses to kill this striga. He lies to his people. And yet you wag your finger in my face."

"If you wanted him to suffer, you could have just exposed the affair." Counters Triss while the three of you stare down the heated man.

"And hurt Adda?" He says softly, "Never. Her memory will not be sullied, not while I'm alive to protect it." Geralt glances from you to him.

"Tell us how to lift the curse."

Segelin pauses a moment before looking defiantly up at your Witcher, "No. Foltest will watch as Temeria turns against him. Just as he turned Adda against me." Geralt hums in response.

Fed up with his excuses you walk up to him, he slightly cowers back before keeping straight again, a snobby expression upon his greying features before you crack him across the temple. Sending him falling to the ground in an instant as he plunges into unconsciousness.

"Y/N." You turn to face Triss.

"What? You were all thinking it."

——

Waiting atop the crumbling castle roof where this striga is soon to be, you watch from above as Geralt and King Foltest speak about how you and him will handle the princess. He gives the king Renfri's brooch as a gift for the princess incase Geralt does not live to see the light of day. You watch the king and his men finally leave, letting Geralt enter the dying castle as he looks up towards the roof for a second before turning his gaze for the wooden doors.

Taking the same route as earlier in the day, you soon find yourself in Adda's room. Segelin tied pathetically to the wooden beams of the dead princess' bed as your unwilling captive. Geralt brooding by the window as he thinks of what to do next, none of you truly having a solid clue as to what should be done about this royal striga. You watch when the greying man glares at you, blood smeared across his lips from your abrupt assault not even an hour ago.

"The both of you! This is madness!" He cries angrily, tugging at his cloth restraints, "What are we doing here? What's happening?" He wonders while searching desperately around the room for a nonexistent answer.

"How can we lift the curse." Mutters Geralt, his leather armored back to you and Segelin.

Segelin shakes his head, "No! This is not right. Foltest must pay for what he did." Whines Segelin once more, you simply fold your arms in irritation as the man looks to you for a sign that you care, which you most defiantly don't.

Rolling your eyes, you scowl at him, "You're already too blind to even comprehend your own faults. This is what you get for your childish actions." You mutter bitterly as he glares hopelessly at you, frustration clearly evident on his dirty face.

"Carry me out. I order you." Demands Segelin as Geralt turns around to face the desperate man. "Tell us how to lift the curse." He orders, Segelin huffs in frustration, avoiding Geralt's intimidating gaze.

In a blur of black and grey your hand is suddenly around his neck as his eyes go wide in stunned alarm, your squeeze isn't enough to choke him, but you're hopeful it's enough to change his mind. "I'd advise you to listen well, your life is already standing on the edge of a knife." You hiss maliciously in his ear before releasing him, he lets out a dramatic gasp as his wide eyes follow your every movement.

He turns his attention from you to Geralt as his mouth opens to finally answer, "Sh-She was hiding from the Brotherhood. She sold me a lamb....Sh-She told me to wait until a full moon, to wait and then to kill it." He stammers, Geralt crouching down to meet his eye level, "And then I recited some silly chant. And then I bathed in the lamb's blood until sunrise. Until the rooster crowed three times. And that is all. I swear. I swear. Now please let us leave." Begs Segelin desperately as he fruitlessly pulls against his constraints, your face falling into a frown, understanding immediately what this idiot has done.

"What was the chant?" Wonders Geralt, his brows furrowing in thought while he stares daggers at Segelin who looks down in frustration.

"Uh..It was years ago." Protests Segelin as he tries to think up the chant, "It was Elven. Um..." Suddenly he begins reciting an Elven curse, your eyes going wide in realization as Geralt shares a quick wary glance with you before racing over to his bag of potions, earning a confused expression from the bound man.

"Wh-what is it? The..I...I've done what's been asked. What more can I do?" He wonders in blissful ignorance as you let out a pissed off huff of air.

"You've done more than enough you perverted fool, unless you can keep a fucking striga out of her crypt until a fucking rooster crows three times." You snap while unsheathing your dagger, his face falling in frightened understanding as Geralt fumbles around with his potions, trying to find the right one to take before the action starts.

Segelin's eyes go downcast, his whole aurora turning to pure dread, "You're gonna have to fight it till dawn." He murmurs softly, staring at the far wall as Geralt downs a potion, his eyeballs turning into two pools of inky darkness. You turn, hastily walking for the door as Geralt quickly follows behind you.

"No. No. Come back here! Please. Please! You'd leave a man bound to die in such indignity?" He cries desperately, pulling on his restraints but to no avail.

"You're not a man." Growls Geralt as he takes his place by your side, the two of you walking down the dreary hallway as the snow falls lightly from outside the nearby broken windows, you catching the scent of the beast on the cool night air.

"Remember not to kill the princess, Y/N" Implores your Witcher with a smirk, you simply roll your eyes.

"We'll see if you can last till dawn my love, I don't doubt it." You retort, a suggestive tone hidden in your voice that's most definitely caught by Geralt.

The hallway breaks off into another section of the abandoned castle, you giving him a nod before turning in that direction, deciding it best to take on the royal beast from two sides if he gets caught up in some trouble. You silently walk down the dusty corridor past rotting wood and broken glass, cracked pieces of stone and the occasional human bones.

The enthralling shriek of the striga bellows throughout the castle walls, it's high pitched scratchy scream sounding like a knife that's stabbed you in the ears. Without another thought you race down the entrance-way towards the sounds of a great messy struggle, the princess has found Geralt, and she doesn't seem too pleased.

Turning round another stony corner, you halt dead in your tracks as your scarlet eyes zero in on the striga who's completely manhandling your Witcher, throwing him this way and that, deflecting every punch he's throwing at her. He suddenly rips a lamp from the wall and uses it to crack her across the side of her grotesque wrinkly head. She stumbles back at the violent impact, pain running throughout her body before she quickly recovers, hurling him backwards with a fiercely strong blow.

As Geralt falls onto his back you swiftly race down the hallway as the striga climbs on top of his armored body. She doesn't hear you coming, or when you electrocute her without warning, sending her flying into the nearby wall as she screeches in pain. You stop to help Geralt up, your right hand crackling with energy as he stands and glances down at the light emitting from it, then over to the pissed off princess. Who almost immediately recovers from her abrupt assault, she stands, her umbilical cord dragging as she stalks over towards the two of you.

In an instant she charges, a piercing scream sending your ears into agony at the frantic noise as Geralt lunges for her, grabbing her shoulders as he throws her against the brick wall.

For the next couple hours would you and Geralt take turns beating on the striga, down this hallway and that, into doors and wooden walls, crashing into cabinets and breaking more cracked windows through the struggle. Every fucking time she would recover and throw it back at you ten fold, like nothing had even happened in the first place.

Racing across the hall to Geralt's aid, you electrocute the royal beast just before she's about to bite into his exposed jugular, she falls back as you get closer, preparing to hopefully knock her ugly face unconscious for a while. You're slowly getting more and more fatigued with every couple minutes that fly by, this fucking striga giving you a real run for your money. No matter how much stamina you have.

But as you get within a few feet from her, she whips around, slashing you across the face with her razor sharp claws. Sending you flying into the wall as a hot stream of blood pours out of your freshly opened wounds. Dazed, you try and raise yourself from the ground and watch as Geralt gets pinned down by the striga once again. You blink back your blurry vision, painfully raising your hand as lightning brightly emits from your opened palm and fingertips just as Geralt uses his magic to break the stone flooring from right out under him.

Himself and the striga immediately falling through the broken floor and straight to the crypts below. Rising to your feet, you can feel as your facial wounds begin to fuse the skin back together again, your injury a thing of the past except for the strips of blood that mark it's path.

You hastily limp over to the hole in the ground, looking down to find Geralt laying in the rubble before slowly getting up. Without another thought, you jump down, landing hard on a pile of rocks as the unconscious striga lays motionless next to you. Pulling yourself up from the wreckage, you tiredly shuffle over to the center of the room as Geralt puts an enchantment onto the doorways so that the creature cannot escape.

"I don't know about you but I could think of ten different ways we could have spent tonight." You jest, breathing heavily as you hold onto your aching side, Geralt hums in reply before turning around and freezing, his face morphing into wariness as he gives you a concerned look. You turn around to see what's bothering him, only to find absolutely nothing, which is most definitely the problem.

"Oh fuck." You whisper as Geralt cautiously walks over to you, the both of you looking around the room as you stand back to back.

You hear a dull rapid thudding of a heartbeat before suddenly the striga jumps down from the crumbling ceiling to pounce at Geralt, she lands, whipping her hand across your chest as she picks him up, throwing him into the nearby stone pillar. You stumble back at the abrupt impact, watching as Geralt gets his ass beat by the pissed off striga, it throws him into another pillar, quickly turning around to race for the open doorway. But before it can get through, the white force field knocks her back, she snaps around once more shrieking in rage, bolting on all fours towards Geralt.

You pull your bruised and tired body onto your feet, reaching your hands out to send volts of hot white lightning into the vessel of the striga, sending her into a cruel stone pillar as she screeches in misery. When you look to your left a beautiful streak of orange sunrise emits from an opened spot in the roof, you breath heavily as the striga and Geralt take notice of the sunlight. Your eyes go wide as the creature races for the safety of her dirty crypt, you trailing behind her as Geralt jumps to his feet to follow.

Your boots pound against the gravely stone of the abandoned crypts as you valiantly throw yourself onto the furious princess while she attempts to launch herself into her resting place, she falls into the wall as your hands smack onto the cracked floor.

"Get in the fucking crypt!" You scream at Geralt as he makes a mad dash for the opened tomb, heeding to your rushed words without a second thought.

You watch as he falls into the stony coffin and shutting it just as the striga launches herself onto the thing, her cries and horrid wails sounding noisily throughout the large drafty room. Picking up a fist sized rock you chuck it at her, cracking her perfectly across the back of her grotesque head.

"Your royal pain-in-the-ass, come and get me." You taunt, lightning crackling from your fingertips as the angry princess snaps her attention to you.

She jumps down and immediately pummels you into the rocks as you send harrowing sparks of electricity into her body that thankfully throws her backwards, your vision going blurry once again. Gods your head hurts. Dark spots cloud your sight as you rest on the rocks in exhaustion, your side most definitely hurting as your eyes flutter closed.

You awaken to the sounds of Geralt as he opens up the tomb and steps out to walk over towards the princess, a concerned and astonished expression crossing over his dirty features. Pushing some ruble from your legs you finally stand and slowly walk down the small stairway as Geralt leans down to see if the princess is actually okay, considering her naked mud covered self is facing away from you both.

You can hear as her heartbeat picks up in pace, but before you're able to warn him, the princess turns around and in a confused rage pins him to the ground just as she sinks her teeth into the side of his neck. She falls back in fear as Geralt's pained gaze finds your own bloody face while you race to his side. Your eyes going wide as he lays upon the stony ground, blood seeping out from his mouth and ripped neck as you try and put pressure on it.

Tears slowly begin building up in your shimmering irises, "No. No. No...Geralt, look at me...look at me." You desperately plea as his golden eyes try and stay open for you, but he's slipping as more blood spurts out from his wounds, "Don't you fucking leave me you prick, not now of all times, or places. Geralt!" You cry as his eyelids flutter shut, his breathing slowing down as you try and cover his bleeding neck the best you can, not sure what to do. If you leave and try to get help he'll bleed to death, but if you stay then his chances are less grim but still uncertain.

Your mind swirls with what's the best course of action when suddenly you hear the rushed steps of Triss coming to your aid, and just in the nick of time.

——

Leaning yourself into the welcoming comfort of Triss' plush lounge chair, you watch as she mixes some more healing ingredients into a marble bowl at her work counter. You touch the side of your torso where a white linen wrap tightly hugs around your aching side where you fell on Geralt's silver sword. It throbs under your soft touch, but due to your immaculate healing capabilities your wounds will not bother you in a couple days time.

Turning your head lazily to the right to find a sleeping Geralt laying on the bed, recovering from his own injuries, you idly smile at his peaceful yet considerably less dirty form. Suddenly his eyes fly open, a puzzled expression upon his handsome features as Triss calmly turns around.

She smiles fondly at him, "Your scars. You heal quite nicely, if not for Y/N's blood you would most certainly be dead." She concludes knowingly as Geralt gives her a confused look, "She dropped some of her blood into your wounds to speed up the healing process. It was more effective then I had first realized." He turns to face you, a relieved sigh escaping from his parted lips.

You smile back at him, "Don't worry about the princess, she'll be fine, Triss has arranged for her to stay with the Sisters of Melitele." You chime in with a shrug, "Also she had her first bath."

"You should know Foltest issued a statement. The honorable Lord Ostrit gave his life to slay the vukodlak. Miners are gathering ore for a statue." Adds Triss with a grin as Geralt attempts to get up, "Anyone else would've killed the princess. You both chose not to." She finishes as Geralt painfully rises into a sitting position, a grimace upon his sweaty face.

"We'll take our coin now. I need to get back to my horse." Grunts your eager Witcher as he sits on the side of the bed, pressing his hand against his wrapped torso. Triss only grins in reply, walking over to hand him the leather sack of coins. He quickly takes it with a nod, Triss turning to flash you a knowing smile before excusing herself from the area.

Turning to Geralt with a frown, you search for his eyes as they glance around the room before landing on you, "Lay down you idiot, I watched you bleed out and go as pale as a ghost." You lightly argue, he sets the coins onto the makeshift bed as he finds your frowning gaze once more, "If I hadn't been there to give you some of my blood...fuck...you'd be dead. So don't you dare try and get up or I'll give you a reason to be in pain."

His stern face suddenly breaks out into an amused grin, "I'd rather not face your wrath my dear, although I wouldn't mind a couple more hours here if you decide to lay next to me." He suggests with pleading eyes, ones that know exactly how to win you over.

Leaning into the soft back of your seat, you cross your arms over your chest, "You're sweating, honestly still smell a bit, and your sheets are stained with blood..." You add with an inquiring raise of your brow, "How could I ever say no to such an alluring offer?" He breaks out into a beaming smile at your humored words, his heart just about fluttering in his muscular chest as you suddenly rise to your feet, walking over to him before crawling over to his other side near the wall. You turn to face him, a hand propped up against your head while you watch him lay down once again. His back touches the mattress as he turns his head to face you, a blissful smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Yes. That's the face right there, the suave steely golden eyes that I've fallen in love with. No matter how beat up you get...you still make me feel things."

"What kind of things, hmm?" He wonders with a lazy smirk as he watches your face break out into a small smile.

Trailing your delicate touch over his old scars, you look over to him with tired eyes, "Things I wouldn't even dare share with the very stars in the sky, nor the moon herself. And I tell her everything." You muse before leaning over to kiss his exposed shoulder. You listen as he hums in delight while you scoot yourself close enough that your whole body is flush against his, "Just sleep for now, love. You've had quite the rough night...and that's putting it lightly. I honestly thought for a moment that...that uh...I might have lost you." He searches for your hand, holding it tightly as a small way to comfort you while he locks eyes with your own downcast ones.

"I wouldn't dare think of ever leaving you alone in this world, not for a second. Y/N you mean more to me then all the coins and jewels combined, more then...uh..."

Laughing you shift your face to gently kiss his bare shoulder before looking up at him once again, "Geralt, there's not a lot of things that you love. That's honestly some short list you've got there...but it matters not, I'm your favorite person in the world and that's all I need to know."

He smiles adoringly at your closing eyes, sleep tenderly calling to you by the second as you hug him closer. He stays silent, wanting to listen to the calming thumps of your relaxed heart beat as your mind drifts into slumber. Closing his own tired eyes, he finally lets sleep take him into darkness where no monsters of any kind wait to hurt him. He's safe in your arms as you're safe in his, the two of you blissfully enjoying one another's company after a taxing hunt.

Tagged: @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

#the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #Of monsters and men fic

309 notes · View notes

awsugawara · 4 years

Text

bnha hcs with an artsy s/o [1/?]

i’m going to make this a mini series, so expect to see this AND haikyuu characters too :) i will also do the k-pop hcs too, so look forward to that !

note: your quirk will be the same all around, if implied you have one!

Quirk: AMBIENT ILLUSION - with a single touch of your hand or glance, you are able to make your opponent think that they’ve been taken to another “realm,” but in actuality their body movements mimic those in the illusion; it’s a quirk that can be used for good or for bad; your creativity isn’t limited, but the side effects are headaches, nausea, and sometimes insanity for a short period of time until your stamina runs out or unless someone knocks you out

Hero Name: Chiaroscuro or Chiasu [for short]- referring to the major contrast of light and dark in an image; in italian it is said to literally mean light-dark

enjoy :)

---

s. aizawa

> teacher x teacher scenario tyvm

> you were a popular teacher at U.A., teaching in some of the general studies classes as an art teacher

> students in class 1-C, D, and E would flaunt how cute/hot and talented their pro hero of an art teacher was

> midnight was gossiping about you with present mic and aizawa overheard

> he knows you have your own agency, so how you double that plus being a teacher was beyond him

> “oh midnight! i was actually looking for you :)”

> aizawa-seeing-a-cutie.exe has stopped working.

> for someone who is low energy and stoic for the most part, this was new

> got more acquainted with the other teachers, but you were really close with aizawa

> funny thing is,,,you and aizawa met up a lot after school and you eventually started dating

> the other pro heroes at the school only found out is when midnight had walked in on them kissing

> the students found out about the relationship when aizawa walked you to your next lecture class as he left class 1-A with present mic

> aizawa glared at them and as soon as he left, your students pelted you with questions, until the teacher told them to quiet down

--- k. takami

> keigo is like a SIMP for you

> he practically with go out of his way just to buy you new art stuff

> “babe...i don’t need anymore sketchbook paper...i have an office at the school and they supply my paper-”

> “you can never have enough, my dove”

> you work at U.A. as an art teacher and met keigo when you were walking home from the school

> you had a run in with a villain, who was on a mission to kidnap you and he swooped in to save you

> your art was scattered all over and some destroyed and keigo caught a glimpse of them and noticed your U.A. badge

> “you’re a teach at U.A.?”

> keigo walks you home, if you chose to stay late to work on your art

> when you first started dating, he was wondering why you would stay so late, and you had to explain your quirk to him

> he wants to be your #1 source of ideas, but he gives you space when you’re truly at an artist roadblock

> when he took you flying for the first time, he vowed to take you every now and then because seeing how your eyes lit up at the city below made it worth while

--- t. shigaraki

> shiggy treats you like glass

> i see him as someone that really admires you and your quirk, let alone your ability to be able to create such fine pieces of art

> you were a lone wolf, who met dabi, who introduced you to the league

> when shigs laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was SMITTEN

> childishly rants to kurogiri when you and dabi are out patrolling

> “why do they always have to go with that burnt piece of shit”

> #getrekteddabi

> shiggy sucks at socializing and it doesn’t help that you always have a resting bitch face™

> you’re actually a softie and a sweetheart at heart, but you notice shiggs advances and are quite confused

> “uhm...hello, tomura-senpai,,,is there something i can help you with?”

> rip shiggy from the CUTENESS

> one day when you didn’t show up at the base and dabi did, shigaraki and kurogiri gave him a look

> “oh, if you’re looking for Chiasu, they’re at home sleeping...idiot stayed up painting again.”

> shiggy left after demanding dabi to reveal their location

> when he got there, he rang the doorbell and questioning why he came because this really isn’t something he does

> “hmm? tomura-senpai? what are you doing here?” **rubs sleep out of your eyes**

> he felt his heart leap

> “i came to see my s/o after being told that they stayed up working. now, are you going to let me in or am i going to have to force myself inside your house?”

--- dabi

> you were at witz end with your life as a pro hero

> you weren’t depressed or anything,,,just bored,,,no ideas or fighting spirit

>one day, you had happened to run into dabi committing one of his oversized fires

> he tried reading you, but all he got was just your stoic, almost sad, expression

> you hadn’t moved and he was walking toward you, stopping and moving his face down to your level

> “well, well what do we have here?”

> you hadn’t remembered much from that day, but you hadn’t run into dabi and the only time you really left your house was to get more art supplies and food

> when you were trekking home on the same path, dabi stepped from the shadows in front of you

> you just gave him a blank look and tried to side step him, but obv he didn’t let you

> what happened next was probably the most shocking,,,he embraced you

> you didn’t know what to do other than cry...for losing your fighting spirit

> after that day, dabi would check up on you frequently and eventually he convinced you to stay with him, so he can stay with you

> it took about 2 months to get you to smile and boy was that worth it

> you were grateful of dabi for sparking [pun not intended] your creativity

> “if you’re so grateful, why don’t be mine?”

--- h. toga

> innocent is how toga would describe you

> her attraction to you was much more different than the times where she’d feel the need to cut someone up

> she wanted you in one piece, unharmed

> so she dragged you to be apart of the league of villains with her

> shigaraki was skeptical letting in a quirkless civilian into the league, but he found your ability to design and draw potentially useful

> dabi likes to mess with you to rile up himi

> “you lay another burnt hand on my s/o, i WILL cut you”

> himi doesn’t like the fact you’re close with some of the LOV members, so she whisks you away to her room or somewhere that’s not the base

> if you go to school and you’re adamant in finishing, himi will kinda leave out the villainous aspects of her life so you can finish

> if you go to school and you really don’t care for it, she’ll try to convince you to become a full fledged member of the LOV rather than an associate

> the mission with the yakuza was probably super nerve-wrecking for you after you saw it on the news

> you were greeted with a toga at your door that evening and you just glomped her and expressed how concerned you were, knowing what her role in the mission was

> himi met you online and then began kinda figuring out when you went to your fav cafe and art store and what you like to buy and the such

> attentive, but psycho was how you described her at first, but just accepted that aspect of her

---

k. chisaki

> for someone who looks like a plague daddy- doctor none of the members of the yakuza would have imagined him dating a cutie with a QUIRK

> for starters, you kinda once over the media on the yakuza, more so concerned with your art

> so when you accidentally ran into kai one evening, you kinda just shrugged it off and continued to walk home

> he was so confused like didn’t you know who he was?????????

> nonetheless, he saw you again, while you were making your way home from the convenience store with your [fav. drink + snacks]

> “oh hey! i remember you!” **insert tense kai** “you’re that guy from the other day! how are you?” **cue confused kai**

> you didn’t really have much of a reaction when you FINALLY put two and two together on

> “you’re a part of that villainous yakuza, right?” **insert tense kai** “it’s okay i won’t tell, i like you too much to turn you in :)” **cue confused kai**

> he wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned about the fact you’re letting him, a villainous yakuza go, or the fact he is starting to develop feelings for you

> regardless, kai had “kidnapped” you more like you willingly agreed to stay with him, hidden away somewhere, where you were safer

> he allowed you to continue your artistry, but he made sure to stay away at least from that aspect of your life

> he wanted you to feel like you had those forms of freedom with the line of work that he was involved in because he loves you very much

> BONUS: you held a grudge on kai for keeping eri hidden away from you and for what he did to her and got a couple of hits on his ass, but you stayed with her and aizawa after kai was arrested

---

sorry some of these are short or kinda are,,,,idk bad? ^^;

#bnha headcannons #aizawa x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #shigaraki x reader #overhaul x reader #kai chisaki x reader #himiko toga x reader #dabi x reader #keigo takami x reader

522 notes · View notes

wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Inception: Chapter 6

The City of Mondstat--what a gorgeous place to host the wind archon! You admired the city gates as you and Ajax crossed the cobblestone bridge that greets guests and attendees alike. The sour face a little boy made as your presence scared the pigeons away made you feel a little bad--it wasn't the first time you've interrupted his pigeon hangouts.

"I'll put our belongings in our apartment. Why don't you take a look around the shops? I'll buy you whatever you like once I've checked in." Ajax removed the pack from your shoulders before you had the chance to answer. "My day will be busy in a bit, so you'll be on your own until late evening. I hope that won't be of any trouble?"

"Of course not. Besides, I have friends here too."

Friends, only as in the wealthiest bachelor in Mond: Diluc! You had met him in the wilderness bordering Liyue and Mondstat, where you had been following a particularly rowdy group of Fatui under Childe's supervision. It had been dark and gloomy, the land filled with thunderous rain that refused to let up, and you were vulnerable to those cryo vultures of agents. Of course, this was during the time after your mother died and were beginning to contemplate causing trouble for the Fatui.

And like a dumbass, you weren't at all careful in the beginning. That night you had bitten off more than you could chew--especially since you had never once used the vision in your pocket and your martial arts skills weren't as refined as they were now. Luckily Diluc was on a similar mission and intervened before you were severely injured. A deep respect formed for one another's resolves and you've been sharing intel with each other ever since.

So where better to go, than to Angel Share? Shopping could wait until later when Ajax would be by your side!

Just as you reached the tavern, you spotted a particularly well-dressed man with long blue hair sitting at one of the tables at the entrance. A few empty pints lay strewn about on his table, his cheeks a faint tint of buzzed-pink. He seemed to be enjoying himself when he spotted you. "Hey, fancy joining me here for a bit?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, sure? I don't believe I know you." You sat across from him and eyed whatever it was he was drinking. 'Dandelion wine.' You've tried it once before; it was light and airy, the fizz of alcohol tickling your taste buds with each sip. You weren't a frequent drinker though, so it's been quite some time since your last taste of alcohol.

"Kaeya, Knight of Favonius," the man held his gloved hand out to you, and you took it with little hesitance. The people of Mondstat were always warm and welcoming. "Who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Reed. It's nice to meet you, Sir Kaeya. Do you come to Angel Share often? I thought it's unprofessional for knights to be seen at taverns." Especially since it's the middle of the day! Shouldn't he be on duty?!

"On the contrary, taverns are excellent sources of information. Though I suppose I come here more often than what's considered necessary." Kaeya's eye carefully narrowed as he studied you, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I've never seen you in Mondstat before."

"To tell you the truth, it's been like six months since I've last visited," you chuckled, making certain he didn't notice your interest in his interestingly-shaped pupil. Maybe it was some rare genetic trait you've never heard of before?

"Oh? You must be a traveler then, no?"

"Not really. I'm from Liyue, actually."

"Ah! The City of Contracts. But I sense you're not native to Liyue." You blinked in confusion as a smirk formed on his face. "Your intonation suggests Liyue origin as do your clothes, but your enunciation says otherwise. May I take a guess?"

Your seat creaked as you sat up straighter. "U-Uh...sure..."

Kaeya leaned back in his seat and sized you up with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He calmly took a sip of his wine, licking the excess off the corner of his lower lip. After a few seconds, he appeared to confirm his thoughts. "Mm, yes. You're from Snezhnaya, no doubt."

A meek nod from you sent him chuckling. There was a strange sense of danger lurking in your chest, tightening evermore as he watched you like prey. Just who was this knight? Why did a dangerous chill run down your back? It wouldn't be the first time people have shown their darker sides to Snezhnayan emigrants--"How did you..."

"Heh, don't take it so seriously. I am a knight, after all. They don't just let anyone get the job." Kaeya took another, deeper gulp of wine this time and placed his pint down. His smile was friendlier now, allowing you to relax back into your seat. "So, are you here for business or pleasure?"

A faint blush reached your cheeks. "Business, I guess. But it's not mine. My...friend is here for business reasons, I'm just tagging along with him."

"Oh? If he has a branch here, I might know him. Who is this friend of yours?"

"Oh, his name's Ajax. He's actually a toy seller."

Kaeya's eye widened slightly at this. There are no Liyue toy sellers that visit Mondstat, save for travelling merchants. "A toy seller? Fascinating." He goaded you to continue with a nod.

"He's pretty private when it comes to work; doesn't like to mix it with personal matters. We'll be staying here for a few days, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more of us."

"Is he Snezhnayan too?"

"...Okay, you're creepily good."

Kaeya gave you a lazy shrug and smirked. "What can I say? I have a talent for this sort of thing." But when he returned to his normal posture, the mysterious glint in his eye was gone. Something contemplative, darker, was lurking. Something you didn't recognize nor understand.

And there was that flight-or-fight feeling again--

"There you are, ojou-chan!" A hand landed on your shoulder, and you startled. "I couldn't find you at the shops. I spotted a floral store nearby. Shall we check it out?" Childe stared hard at the man you sat across from and feigned a warm smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh? Is this one of the friends you mentioned?"

"Actually I just met him. He's a knight! Kaeya, this is Ajax."

Childe stiffened behind you. You told this guy his name?! A knight?! You--You! No. This is to be expected; you don't know the truth to begin with. "I see. Well, Reed, we should get going--"

"Aw, why so cold?" Kaeya faux-pouted and readjusted one of his gloves. He wasn't a stranger to the situation. He knew exactly who Ajax was; the harbinger status reeked about him. "Reed's told me all about you. I'm honored to meet your acquaintance, Ajax." The atmosphere seemed to freeze over and a thick tension settled over the table.

"...Can't say I feel the same," Childe spoke through gritted teeth. He slapped another forced smile on and addressed you again. "Aha, Reed, we should get going. I only have a few minutes before my meeting--"

"Ah, your toy seller company? What was the name again? Even as a cavalry captain, I wasn't aware we had foreign companies in our walls." His gaze was only focused on Ajax.

"Um...What do you mean?" The grip on your shoulder tightened as a warning that went unnoticed.

"So you're truly unaware?" Kaeya's attention dropped to you and something akin to sadistic pleasure lit up his expression. "This will be quite lively indeed." He took another sip of wine before standing to meet Childe's glare head-on. "You've done an exceptional job at keeping her in the dark, if I say so myself. As to be expected from someone of your status."

"Ajax, what's he talking about?"

"Reed, let's go." He nearly lifted you up himself. Ajax grabbed your wrist and whisked you away in a hurry.

"You can't hide from the one that calls you friend!" Kaeya shouted after the two of you while Childe pulled harder at your wrist.

"What does that mean?" A glance back to the knight that held a knowing smile then to the man that held your arm gave you an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Was there something that Ajax was hiding from you, and if so, what was it if it got the attention of a Mondstat cavalry captain? "Ajax? What's he going on about?"

His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "Don't talk to him ever again." He finally let go of you once both of you were hidden from the public eye in an alleyway, but the serious look in his eyes nearly made you flinch. He never looked so--what was it? Angry? Fearful? Grim? Perhaps the most frightening part was the emptiness in those blue irises, just like the day he returned from his disappearance...

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me right?" This got his attention and his gaze landed on you without looking at you. "You're scaring me by refusing to talk." You had thought that you two had grown closer on your way to Mondstat, but now it feels like you're moving backwards.

"It's nothing, promise," Childe flashed you with a pained grin. "Just...stay away from him. He seems to target my company a lot for no reason other than prejudice."

Maybe it was because it was a Snezhnayan company? "Um, okay..." He caught onto the hesitance in your eyes, and his hands lightly rubbed the sides of your arms as he peered down at you.

"Promise me. I swear it's nothing bad."

"...I promise." But for once, you were going to break it. You knew this as you met his relieved gaze. Something isn't right. You've picked up on it before with how he wouldn't touch you when there were people around, or his nervous glances at the surrounding area before he approached you. You weren't that stupid and oblivious to his behavior. Perhaps you were trying to suppress that uneasiness whenever he was around, but it's become impossible to ignore now.

"Okay," he let out a small sigh of relief and nodded. "I'll be working late tonight, so don't wait for me when it comes to eating and sleeping. Can you do that?"

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm more than capable of handling myself," you retorted with lips twitching upward. "I'll be fine. Do what you need to do. I'll be around petting the cute dogs and cats all day!"

"I wish I could go along with you," he admitted before placing an innocent peck at your forehead. "I'll be back later."

"See ya." You stared at his back until it disappeared among the crowd and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. A hand rubbed your queasy stomach. Now to pet some animals for some anxiety relief as you think of what to do next...

Kaeya knew you'd be back later that evening at Angel Share. He was an expert at studying people and if he had learned anything from those brief chats with you, it was that you were not the kind of person that's able to let his comments go. So as he patiently sipped at his wine glass at the corner of the bar's first floor, the ringaling of the chime that indicated the entry of a new customer let him know you were right on time for the show.

Diluc raised a brow at you; he had caught a glimpse of your figure out the window earlier. It was rare for you to travel to Mond, and even more so to not have asked for Fatui intel by now. In fact, it was like you weren't in town for that information this time. You nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes flicked to the knight in the darkest corner of the tavern. "The strongest alcohol you've got, please."

Diluc watched you with concern for a moment before grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf behind him. "You're a lightweight; I wouldn't recommend you drink on an empty stomach. Have you eaten yet? I can make you something on the house if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Very well." A pint slid to you on the bar counter and you immediately downed a concerning amount without so much as pausing for a breath. This earned another brow raise from Diluc, but he remained quiet as you walked towards Kaeya--who was already a bit tipsy and needless to say, unwelcome in this tavern.

Kaeya's lips curled upward as your footsteps got louder, and his eyes finally lifted from his glass to watch you plop down on the other side of the table. "Well well well, I wasn't expecting you to speak to me after what happened this morning. What's lil Reed want with me at this late hour?"

You swallowed the nervousness that ate at you with his sly stare and sat up straighter. "Tell me what you meant this morning."

"Oh? I don't quite remember which part," he swirled the wine in his glass. "Care to enlighten me?"

"'You can't hide from the one that calls you friend.'" Your finger tapped impatiently against the rim of your cup. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?" Kaeya remained in his relaxed position with an arm across the back of his seat and a leg perched across the other. You didn't answer, your gaze instead dropping to the alcohol in your cup to avoid his predatory stare. It didn't feel safe with him eyeing you like you were food. It was as if he was able to see the thoughts swirling around inside your head. "It seems to me you already know. You've only sought me out to confirm your fears."

"Maybe I want to be wrong," you mumbled. The horrible fears that swirled in your heart weren't exactly unfounded; with what you know, they'd make more sense to be true than false. Ajax was violent after he disappeared...looking for fights even after you said your official goodbyes...it wouldn't be completely out of the question to think he'd join the Fatui.

Kaeya eyed you carefully and a smile spread across his face as he sat forward. "Well darling, I'd be more than happy to burst that hopeful bubble of yours. The question is, are you willing to pay the price?"

"I don't care about the truth hurting my fee-"

"Ah ah ah," he lazily wagged a finger at you and sat back again. "I think it's only fair that in giving you this information, I receive some in return."

"What about?"

"I've done some digging on you and your...honorary reputation in Liyue."

"That was quick."

"Isn't it? You see, Master Diluc and I have a shared interest in the Fatui. I want all the information you have on them." Known only to Kaeya, Diluc was carefully listening to this conversation and held back a scoff at this remark. Diluc did tell Kaeya about your reputation, but only after the latter insisted you and your 'friend' were connected to the Fatui Harbingers.

"Deal." Maybe Diluc doesn't like sharing his intel with the knights, but it wouldn't hurt to share the information with Kaeya. You were all on the same side here anyway.

"Good girl," he tilted his head slightly and tipped the wine glass to his lips. "Now that that's settled, go ahead and ask me."

You bit your lip and gathered the courage and anxiety that had been swirling in your stomach. A quick gulp or two...or three of your glass and you spit your thoughts out before you could shrivel up on yourself. "What do you know about my Ajax?"

The sadistic look in his eye only increased as he set his glass down for the first time in a literal hour. He didn't even hesitate to answer you. "Your 'Ajax' is none other than a Fatui Harbinger that goes by 'Childe.'"

You almost couldn't hear him with the obnoxious ringing in your ears. "A Harbinger?"

"The same one that almost drowned Liyue all those months ago. But I'm guessing you were already able to gather that much after this morning, weren't you?" He held eye contact with you and another smile danced across his lips. He could see the gears turning in your head as you struggled to digest this bombshell of information and it was oh-so delightful to watch unfold. "I'm sure you've heard of the infamous 11th Harbinger since you're originally from Snezhnaya."

"The one known for numerous kills on the battlefield," you uttered absently while vacant eyes stared at the tabletop. It hurt like hell to know the truth, but it hurt even worse that he was the same harbinger that tried to drown Liyue. That tried to drown you.

"Ding ding ding."

You downed the rest of your drink without a second thought and slammed the pint onto the table. "Diluc, I'm gonna need another. Please."

Childe met Lady Signora at the Grande Goth Hotel and after having dinner with her and her highest-ranking officers, he placed his utensils down. "As you've seen in my letter, some of my men are missing or going missing as we speak."

"You're asking for my help?" The lady looked at Childe with an exasperated expression. "I thought the Tsaritsa was correct in giving you the task. Are you saying you are unable to find leads?"

He bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper with Signora. It wasn't an understatement to say he was still salty over her deception with Zhongli that ended up making him look like a fool to the whole of Liyue. "I only came to ask if any of your men had gone missing."

Signora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Three."

"I could use those reports if you don't mind."

"They'll be at your disposal," she assured. "How many men have gone missing under your watch, Childe?"

Of course she would ask this. Childe grit his teeth. "Twenty more. A total of fifty are gone now." Feeling her judgement, he continued with a more aggressive tone. "There's little evidence to suggest they're being taken against their will, so my assumption is they're purposely abandoning their posts."

"Abandoning their posts? The Tsaritsa only recruits the loyal. Why would they turn against Her Majesty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Rest assured that I'm working as hard as I can with the information I've been given."

"And the vigilante I've heard rumors about?"

His heart sank. "The vigilante in Liyue? I've confirmed they have nothing to do with the disappearances. The most they've done is broke an arm or two, and killing isn't their style. They were clueless when I brought the matter up to them."

"And...?"

"It's not them," he sat up and deadpanned. He had to be careful with his words now that you had managed to catch the attention of another harbinger. They definitely wouldn't give you a free pass to harass their men as you please. "There's no connection. The working theory is the Fatui are abandoning their posts due to some third party. There have been reports of cult activity as of late, though. My bet is on that."

Seemingly satisfied with his thoughts, Signora took another sip of wine. "Very well. As long as you catch the person responsible, I won't need to bring my concerns to the Tsaritsa." This earned a glare from Childe and he bit his tongue.

It was 11:30 at night when he got back to the rented apartment that he shared with you. As expected, the lights were out. Childe quietly made his way to the bed when he realized how cold it was, and you hadn't so much as left an imprint. You weren't there, and you hadn't visited it to begin with.

Shit.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only worsened as he ran full speed to that damned tavern you loved so much. His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door, greeted by a redheaded bartender that did not look happy to see him.

"My apologies, but we just closed," he said as he dried a wine glass with a white cloth. "We open at two tomorrow." He did his best not to act on impulse and kill the harbinger where he stood.

Childe crinkled his nose at this and looked to his left. Sure enough you were sitting across from that stupid knight. He couldn't see your face since your back was to him, but that didn't stop the pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He ignored Diluc's annoyed protest and approached the table.

"Reed." His hand lightly landed your shoulder, begging for you to turn around. Instead of the usual flush of warmth he received from your vision, his hand was engulfed in flames. His vision reacted just as quickly as he removed his hand, and the vapor produced flew to the ceiling. The stinging he felt in his palm let him know he'd have blisters at the very least. His eyes widened as he came to terms with what had happened.

The pyrophobe used actual fire.

He tried again anyway. "Reed," he called out firmly, careful not to let on the shakiness in his voice. "It's late. Let's get you home." His hand reached out again but before it could make contact, your shoulders befell into flames and you stood up. He caught the devilish smirk on Kaeya's face as you did and scoffed. "Stay away from--"

"Get out." The words caught in his throat when a cold tone contrary to your vision reached his ears. "Get out before I do something I won't regret."

"Reed--"

"Get out, Childe."

"You might want to obey the lady's wishes," Kaeya egged on and finished his wine off. "When women want to be left alone, they want to be left alone."

"You," Childe growled and moved to get past you. "You--" A wall of flame blocked his path to throwing hands, and it was at this moment that Childe saw the brokenness in your eyes. They were bloodshot--you were no doubt drunk. Your face was red and puffy. You cried a lot when Kaeya told you, didn't you? "...I can explain."

"There is no undoing this," you cried out and shook your head. "You'll only dig yourself a deeper grave. Get the hell out of my sight. I never want to see you again!"

Reed, he pleaded silently, but red hair obscured his view of you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir. If you don't leave her alone, this constitutes as harassment and we do have a knight here that can arrest you."

"Tch. Some 'knight.'" The cocky grin on the cavalry captain only made Childe's hatred deepen. As much as he wanted to stay and try to get through to you, he'd have to force himself to leave--a harbinger making ruckus in two nations would definitely not give the Tsaritsa a good look.

..........

You needed to cool off. Diluc let you crash at the tavern much to your delight and less to his--he had insisted you come with him to his mansion since it'd be more comfortable for a lady, but you had refused and said the table you sat at was fine enough. Kaeya had left some time after Childe had, chuckling at some joke he made about the situation that wasn't funny.

The early sunrise gave you the opportunity to leave Mond before Childe could try to talk to you again. Luckily you hadn't brought much with you on the trip anyway, so you just walked out the gates with the clothes on your back without visiting the apartment that man had rent you. Surviving in the wilderness wasn't difficult and the nation of Liyue wasn't but two days' trip southwest. You've made the journey many times when consulting with Diluc over Fatui intelligence.

You weren't but halfway to Liyue Harbor--one and a half days' journey--when you encountered your first lawachurl of the trip. Usually they weren't near the roadside and they were easy to avoid, but this one was clearly agitated and actively looking for something to kill. By the time you realized what you were looking at it was already upon you. And if that weren't enough of an inconvenience, this lawachurl was different than the ones typically found in Liyue; it was purple. Electro.

"Woah, what the hell?" The words escaped you without you hearing them over the roar of the monster. "You're not supposed to exist here--" These were only found in Inazuma, a nation of islands several hundred miles away from the coast of the mainland. What was it doing here? They can't even swim!

"RAWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!" The beast bellowed yet again. It leapt into the air and attempted to crush you beneath its feet. Luckily you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the shock of the impact getting dirt into your mouth.

You've never fought one before, but you've heard the stories. They're a lot bigger in person. If Childe hadn't reunited with you, you'd never be put in this situation. That thought made your blood boil and skin flush crimson. "Like hell you're gonna get in my way right now."

"URGH!" The lawachurl stumbled back when a wall of fire hit him.

Small flames danced around your fingertips while you watched with an empty gaze. "Maybe fire isn't so bad after all."

"Milady! Stand back! We'll handle this!" Your gaze left your fingers and greeted the Millelith. Apparently this issue had somehow been reported to the Qixing...Were there more incidents like this while you were in Mond?

"What, you and your little spears? You don't even have visions."

"Stand ba--"

"AWWRRR!" The lawachurl charged at you with incredible speed. It's fists crushed the ground where you stood, but a sharp gale roughly swept you off your feet.

"What--!" Upon opening your eyes, you were greeted by particularly catlike eyes. "U-um--"

"Don't turn your back to them," the man warned, setting you down on the tree branch he stood on. Without wasting anymore time he disappeared before you and reappeared above the lawachurl. He plunged his spear down through the top of the beast's head multiple times within a second. It died not long after, its remains turning to ash that blew away with the light breeze that swept through the valley.

"'Them...?'" There's more, a shiver rolled down your spine at the reward of your vantage point. There are more. Tens of them, all electro! From what you could see through the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree you stood in, they were scattered across the yellow plains! How the hell did they...With widening eyes, your attention shifted down to the Millelith. There were roughly ten of them, all battered down and overworked. Tiny specs in the distance indicated these were the only ones left that could fight these things off.

This wasn't some small random incident. This was a battlefield.

Your gaze shifted to the mysterious young man that was killing the nearby lawachurls with the ease of a god. This must be the Vigilant Yaksha Zhongli had told you stories of when you first began working at the parlor, right? He certainly matched the description--

"Get down!" The man shouted to the Millelith as he sliced through the air above them to intervene the lawachurls that nearly overran them. "Useless!" The Millelith weren't of any help to this situation; they were practically fodder and so easily slaughtered being the normal humans they were.

Your feet acted before your mind did. Just as the yaksha cut through the air again, you punched the nearest lawachurl with a fiery fist to create a swirl reaction. It died almost instantly. The two of you nodded at one another, then he turned to the Millelith.

"These are matters for adepti. Stay out of my way."

"Y-Yes sir!" One of them said and ordered for another to report back to the Harbor to inform the Qixing of the situation. As they began to jog off, you turned to the yaksha.

"That means you too," he summoned his mask.

"But I can help!"

"Tch. Don't underestimate the abilities of adepti." The masked man turned to you, and the sight of it made your blood run cold. How did Mr. Zhongli know about such an intimidating person?

You straightened up and puffed out your chest. "There's lots of them. Wouldn't it be better if you had all the help you could get?"

"This is nothing. I've already cleared the road that leads to Liyue. You'll have a safe passage. Go now." He didn't wait for your response and was already on the other side of the river by the time you blinked.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that," you grumbled with burning skin. "Better I take my anger out on these things than wreck my room--"

A roar that was loud enough to vibrate your bones erupted from behind you. A lawachurl had somehow managed to sneak up on you within mere seconds of the yaksha's absence, and he was already long-gone somewhere in the plains. Startled, you spun around only for it's gigantic claw to swipe at you.

"Gngha!" Your training kicked in and your forearm swept through the air to collide with it's claw. The brute force of the monster's strength almost caused you to lose your footing--certainly a Visionless person would've been sent flying and severely injured--but you bit through the impact and dug your right boot into the soil. The claw pressed further against you, the monster not expecting resistance but still refusing to give in, and electricity crackled in the air. It pushed harder and harder until your knees nearly buckled under the weight. "Tch...ngh...hAA!"

With flames dancing upon your skin from the edge of your boots to the forearm that was the only thing preventing you from being crushed, you pushed back twice as hard. The fist of the lawachurl slowly but surely lifted away from you as you shoved. The spot that was touching your forearm began to burn from the heat you emitted until smoke and the foul smell of burning flesh appeared.

The monster tried to pull away from you as pain spread through its claw, but your petite hands gripped its fingers and yanked them towards you with such a force that the entire being began to fall atop you. "YOU'RE DEAD!" The shadow of the beast that fell towards you blocked out the sun, but with a fiery fist you threw upwards and lit the way until it had burned through the body. There you stood, quite literally in the carnage, with your body standing in the clear-cut cavity of the beast. Just as quickly as it landed, it turned to ash.

Childe slowly relaxed his grip on the bowstring he held against his cheek and dismissed his weapon while you regained your breath. So this is what you're capable of, he thought with a flicker of a smirk. This is how mad he made you. You were cute when you were angry...how come he didn't piss you off sooner? The sickly thrill he got at the idea of fighting you at your full potential was addicting, but as soon as it appeared it wore off after hearing the words you muttered.

"I swear to Rex Lapis if he ever comes near me again, I'll kill him."

He knew you meant it much to his delight and sorrow. The fire burning brightly in your eyes was deadly, the deep passion of the flames that licked your arm slowly burning your skin...

You didn't so much as flinch as it did.

#wesimpforxiao #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia #inception

23 notes · View notes

writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 4 years

Text

Prompt List #8 - Lines from love letters

All Prompt Lists

All these lines come from a book called ‘The Love of an Unknown Soldier’ which is an antique book that’s essentially a series of love letters from the Great War that were found in a dugout and published. All unsent from a British Officer to an American Nurse he met in Paris. He never told her that he loved her and presumably died before he had the chance.

I was so many times on the point of telling you - every evening after I had left you I accused myself and spent half the night awake planning the words in which I would confess when next we met.

I wonder if you have guessed. Surely I could not have loved you so much without your knowing.

What right have I, who may be dead within a month, to speak to you of love? To have done so would have been the act of a coward.

You, all the time you would have been lonely. All the time you would have been worrying about my safety.

And yet there is still time to tell you. I have only to unhook the receiver and to telephone to you.

Perhaps it was fate; I prefer to think that it was something else.

You’d never guess how long I spent in polishing my belt and buttons. Yes, men are like that.

And my emotions! Shall I be frank? They were awfully muddled. They were made up of longing, hope, doubt and the terror that I might appear absurd.

The longing was all for you.

The hope was that you might share my longing.

The doubt was lest I might have idealised a memory which, when I saw you, would fade into reality. Oh, the heresy of me!

I have spoken of the touch of your hand, but I think it was the sympathy in your eyes that touched me.

I suppose you’ll never know how proud I was to be seen beside you.

I felt so keenly aware of you; your beauty was almost painful.

The paths were slippery; I took your arm at times to help you over places and laughed within myself at its reluctance.

She does care for me a little, I told myself - that thought kept my heart singing after we had parted.

One never hears you coming; you are absent - one looks again and you are there.

You trusted me so much from the very first; is that a good sign from a lover?

Strange, that I should have conquered fear in the front-line, should have lived for days quite calmly with sudden death, and yet should tremble before a girl.

The letter I shall send you will be strictly conventional and not too lengthy - it will be the kind that I might write to any acquaintance of either sex. And yet - yes, that is the thought that troubles me - we may have met and parted for the very last time.

Since you will never read this, I will play a game; I will not send you what I write, but I will speak the truth to you on paper.

I can at least carry the memory of these things back; they are unspoilt by any sadder knowledge.

We stopped so long talking over dinner that by the time we reached the opera the first scene was ended.

I am glad I met you. I am glad of the pain I shall carry back with me.

Your face will be with me, the sound of your voice and the memory of your gentleness.

I shall be a better soldier because we have met.

If I die, I shall die satisfied.

I didn’t have much time to catch my train, but managed to stop long enough to order you some flowers. They were roses, deep red, the colours of the ones you wore at the opera on our last night. I bought far too many for good taste - I bought the way I felt.

How far away you seem - how far everything seems that I have loved.

You’re a captain in rank, aren’t you? Then you’re my superior, for I’m only a subaltern.

There must be more in you than I have guessed; to have left luxury and come into danger just to look after other people’s babies, that took courage.

There’s a sacredness of devotion, which goes deeper than mere beauty.

Do you begin to understand why it is that you seem so far away?

You can weave all kinds of fancies out of our nights if you’re in love and have an imagination. Those white flares, appearing, racing, vanishing, seem to me a phantom-city and make me think of Paris.

The boys came in intending to buy something; they hardly noticed you at first. Then they saw you, stared and tried to spin out an awkward conversation...they’d returned to buy something else. They really returned to get another sight of you.

You fascinated me as well.

What are you? You are drifting away from me, becoming unreal already.

Did you care for me at all, even for a moment?

Did you ever picture the life to which I was going?

Was I only an incident - some one transiently amusing, and perhaps a little pleasant?

For me there was always poignancy in our happiness. The thought was constantly with me of our parting. Something within me kept warning, ‘it is the end - the end - the end.’/

If I had only met you earlier, in the days before war started, I could have made love to you honourably. But not now.

And yet - “I wish I had married my man,” your friend said. It’s a problem. Self-interest dictates that I should tell you. That choice might be more righteous than silence; it depends on you. But because the choice would be selfish I distrust it.

Had you stayed a moment longer I might have spoken the words which were better left unsaid. I think you knew that.

At the cry ‘mail up’ I forsook my dignity and went out on the pretence of seeing that the teams were clear of the position.

For a little while memories travelled back to affections and quiet.

You mean more to me than anyone in the world, yet I have never seen your handwriting. That brings home to me vividly how much we are strangers.

I never knew a man more in love with anybody.

Why didn’t you write to me? I had counted the days and made allowances for delays. A letter might have come yesterday; to-night it seemed certain.

I form so many conjectures...you were busy. You did write, but forgot to post it. You posted it, and it’s held up in transit. Then there are other conjectures of another kind: that you do not care; that the knowledge that I care would come to you as a surprise; that it is the knowledge that I care that keeps you from writing.

When I remember you like that I feel your kindness. You may not care, but you are not careless.

To have known you as I have is more than I had counted on - more than I deserved.

To have had love come to one in the midst of a war, was more than could have been expected.

All my life I had waited for that; then, when one had sacrificed so many human affections, it happened. It was a gift from the gods. Though you may never know, I ought to be contented.

I must not entertain hopes about you. To do so would be weakening.

You have happened in my life - that should be sufficient. To have snatched one last glimpse of loyalty should make me braver; it should be like the sacrament pressed against the lips of those about to die.

I don’t think I will write to you any more, my dear. These unposted letters, written out of loneliness are becoming a luxury which is dangerous. They make the future seem too valuable.

I begin to realise how sweet life is - how glorious we could make it.

A letter from you! Such a jolly letter, so full of yourself! It’s just as though you were at my elbow and I could hear your voice.

I’ve read it how many times? I can’t count. I think I know it all by heart, and yet keep on turning back to my favourite passages.

To save France, Joan of Arc charged on horseback into battle. You go with less drama, but with an equal heroism.

You would laugh quietly and say that I make too much of what you are doing - that it’s really very ordinary.

You can’t love a woman and not gaze into the future. You can’t feel the need of her and be resigned to die.

I wish I knew that you felt the need of me. In the loneliness of this existence the knowledge that there is one woman who cares supremely helps.

I mustn’t think of you too often.

But this is foolishness - one can’t get rid of memory. Since I can’t forget you, I must make your memory a help.

I write you letters which you will never receive, recording the fact that I love you; but I fail to tell you.

I persuade myself, as Benham would have persuaded himself, that it is honest and fine not to confess.

I don’t do the passionately human thing - the thing that Jack Holt did when he won his wife. I act idealistically but, God knows, i’m by no means certain of my motives.

It’s easy to be brave for one’s self, but to have known that you were in danger would have been intolerable.

Could I see you I should find you changed, you say; the sleepless nights have done their work. I expect I should find you changed - as metal is tried in the furnace.

Like every man who loves a woman, the desire of my heart was to shut you up in a cage of unreality.

I beg you to take especial care of yourself. Don’t run more risks than you can help.

My mind is full of you to-day. I have been trying to remember your face, the tones of your voice - all the things that make you you so essentially.

At first, when I feel in love with you, I almost resented your intrusion

I used to mistrust love as a kind of sickness, and yet all the while - I must tell the truth - I longed for it desperately. Love always avoided me.

I wanted to have something so worth giving to a woman: perhaps that was why I was willing to delay.

Then a quaint little picture forms in my brain of you and me alone in a darkened room. There’s a fire burning. You’re sitting in a great armchair; i’m crouched on the floor beside you, my head against your knees.

But one grows weary of being strong; one wants to be loved so badly, just once while there is time.

It’s the feel of you I need, the protection, the security - the sure knowledge that I am yours, whatever happens.

It’s you that I want - the feel of your hands touching mine in the darkness and your arms about me.

I’m afraid i’ve been acting like the traditional Englishman; you’re the greatest pleasure I have and i’ve been taking you sadly. It isn’t much of a compliment to you and I must stop it. Unhappiness is a form of disloyalty.

You came upon me so suddenly; you awakened such longings; your very presence spoke so loudly of a future which, perhaps, I may not share; you offered all that I had once hoped for before I put hope behind me.

Your presence to me was like St. Peter’s shadow to those sick men; it healed me, but it made me long for more than the shadow. The thought that you would walk through other cities where i could not follow, filled me with emptiness.

I realised then what a gaiety would fill my world if I had the assurance that you loved me.

In a vain attempt to make you a part of my world I lie awake imagining half the night. What a foolish heart I have!

How sick I am of my own pose of spurious manliness! What I want is to feel your arms about me and your lips against my eyes, whispering, ‘Mon petit.’

I know at last for certain that I am nothing and you have forgotten me. And yet there was a time when - or do I deceive myself? You could not help writing to me if you have ever cared. You are breaking the news to me slowly by your silence. Perhaps that is the kinder way to do it.

I know that love in one who is not loved, must always seem absurd. I know that I ought to smile and bow in a gallant sort of fashion, excusing myself for having been so mistaken as to have troubled you with my affections. But the men who used to love like that loved lightly; they had scores of years before them to seek their love elsewhere.

I love you as a man loves only once, and I may have but a few hours.

If I come through to-morrow safely, I’ve almost a mind to write you a real love letter. I can picture you reading it, if I were to send it. Those straight brows of yours would draw together. The more impassioned I was, the more puzzled you’d become, It would all be so sudden after my carefully proper letters.

I think of you, as I shall think of you to the end, if the end comes. I do not want you less. I want you more perhaps, only not so selfishly.

And yet there is always you, you, you, to lure me back from death. You with your grey eyes and your intense atmosphere of rest - you with your unconscious womanliness.

Aft4er such a long wait, two nights ago I received your last letter. You hadn’t quite forgotten me. You hadn’t forgotten me at all. You have been ill, but you’re better now.

I dreamt of you last night. It was the first time that this has happened. We were in a garden full of sunshine and roses. You were learning on my arm. We must have been married for some time, for there was no strangeness in our being together. We cam to an old stone summer-house and sat down. You sank your head against my shoulder, gazing up into my eyes, and brushing my lips with your hair.

My heart cries out for you and hears only the silence.

If I come through this, I have made a pledge that I will tell you. The last few months have educated me in taking chances.

I shall never know now whether you would have loved me, or could have been made to care for me. Perhaps you did care, and were waiting for me to give the sign.

It’s the touch of live hands, of lips pressed to lips that counts.

I want to hold you and to say nothing. I want-

#a bit of tragic history that pulls at the heart strings #prompt list #writing prompt list #prompt lists #history #ww1 #world war 1 #wwi #world war i #the great war

238 notes · View notes

lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter eleven

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3560

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Honestly, this chapter reads a little weird to me but my friend who helps me edit said it was fine. IDK going from the 40s to 2012 is weird when trying to write.

<< Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Seven months had gone by since Steve and I had been unfrozen. This new world I suddenly woke up in was exhausting. Everything had changed from the simplest thing like manners to complicated things like technology.

Days after waking up, we had been sent to a place called “The Retreat” so we could catch up on the seventy years we had missed out on. There was so much that we took to writing everything down in small notebooks, so we could remember.

I caught onto using the new technology quicker than Steve since I had worked with Howard Stark for several years. Being able to adapt to strange and new tech on the fly was a requirement when working with him.

After those few weeks there, we were both moved into two separate government apartments located in New York. I wish I could say that it got easier with time, but it didn’t. Instead of going to hang out with Steve or actually trying to make acquaintances with anyone, I just stayed in my room, locked away from everything. Coping with being in the future was the easy part, learning to live without everyone I ever knew was hard.

I hadn't known peaceful sleep in a long time. Every time I closed my eyes I am met with nightmares. The softness of the mattress had made it feel like I would fall through at any moment, back into the ice. To try and combat this I pushed my bed into the far corner of the room and made a cot directly under the frame. It felt safer to lay on the hard floor in the dark. The nightmares still came through, sometimes they were battles, sometimes they were of the plane crashing, but most of the time they were about losing Bucky. Every time I woke up in a cold sweat and never went back to bed. I just stared unblinking at the metal that made the bed frame.

One night after a particularly taxing dream I decided to take a walk. It was three in the morning, so I wouldn't have to deal with a lot of people. I changed out of my pajamas into some of the clothes I had been provided. The clothes of the future were tighter than in the forties. It had taken me a while to get used to the feeling of fabric clinging to my legs and upper body. The outside world was quiet except for the occasional car passing by. I kept my eyes to the ground, not really caring where I ended up. I only looked up when I was almost run over by another late-night walker. Peering from left to right, my eyes fixed on an old faded sign hanging above me. The letters were just barely readable and said in large letters ‘Boxing gym’. With another survey of the area, I realized where I was. This was the gym that Bucky used to take Steve when teaching him self-defense. I had tagged along a couple of times before I had joined the SSR, I was surprised it was still here. I smiled weakly and turned to the door. The light inside was on, it couldn’t hurt to see if they were open. The door creaked open and I slipped in quietly. The sound of someone working out came down the long brick hallway. Hesitantly I made my way to the open doors that led to the sparring room.

Stopping just past the threshold, to my surprise, I spotted Steve, who was busy punching the life out of a punching bag. I walked through the small office and around the boxing rings before I stopped again and leaned against one of the columns a few feet away from where Steve stood. I watched him for a while before he landed a hard punch on the bag and it flew off into the distance. I started clapping slowly and he turned around in shock.

“Good job, you broke the bag, but you do know you’re gonna have to pay for that right?”

“Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a while. I came by your apartment but you didn’t answer.”

“I know Stevie, I just haven't felt up to company since we got back to New York. I hope you can forgive me.” He looked at me with sad eyes and took three long steps in my direction. His arms came out to engulf me in a hug.

“It’s okay, I understand. Promise you’ll tell me if something's wrong, okay?” I nodded into his chest and he squeezed me tighter.

“I couldn't sleep, I guess you couldn't either.”

“No, too many thoughts.” He let go of me and went to get two more punching bags. He hung them up a few feet away from one another before turning to me and asking if I wanted to join. Pretty soon we were both laughing together if it felt almost like we were back home before everything happened. That was until the same dark-skinned man from that day seven months ago showed up. I later learned he was Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.

“I’m glad to find you both here.” He stated.

“Are you here with a mission, Sir?” Steve asked.

“I am.”

“Is this to try and get us back out in the world?” I asked.

“No, I'm trying to save it.” he thrust out an open manila folder. I grabbed it slowly and brought it to where Steve and I could both look at it. The blue cube that had evaporated Johann Schmidt was in the photograph pinned to the first page. In large bold letters beside the pictures spelled out TESSERACT. We slowly walked to a nearby bench and sat down.

“That's HYDRA’s secret weapon. I thought it fell into the ocean that day,” I whispered.

“Howard fished it out of the water when they went looking for you both. He thought what we think, that this cube could be an unlimited sustainable energy source.” Fury informed us.

“Who took it from you?” Steve questioned.

“He’s called Loki, he’s not from around here. We have a lot we're gonna need to catch you both up on if you agree to help. This world has gotten stranger than you already know.”

“I doubt anything could surprise us anymore, right Stevie?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Ten bucks says you’re both wrong.” Fury bet. We both got up from our seats and handed the file back. Steve went and grabbed another bag from the floor and I just headed straight for the door.

“There are debriefing packets at your apartments, read through them and get back to me by tomorrow afternoon. And before you leave, is there anything we should know about the tesseract?”

“You should have left it in the ocean.” Steve and I said at once before walking out of the gym. Once we were outside on the sidewalk we hugged and said our goodbyes for the moment and then went our separate ways.

The walk home felt longer than the walk to the gym, but this gave me time to think about what I wanted to do. Whether I wanted to go on this mission, or if I just wanted to lay low and live my life. By the time I walked through my front door I had almost made my decision, but I was waiting to read the file before I decided for good. With a quick look through the minimal information provided I sighed and threw the papers down onto my kitchen counter. Shaking my head I murmured to myself.

“No, I am not doing this. This cube is not worth it.” Rubbing my eyes I went back to my room and crawled under the bed, not caring that I was still in jeans and a t-shirt. I was not going to walk blindly into anything dealing with that cube again. I lost my fiance and everyone I have ever known because of that stupid blue thing, I'm not going to go anywhere near it again. I laid there quietly for a while before I eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

The next morning I woke up with a start, almost hitting my head on the bed above me. Furious honking made its way from the street into my room. One thing I definitely missed from the past was how quiet it once was at seven a.m.

Along with the decision to not join the mission, I had also made up my mind about leaving New York. This had been a long decision in the making and the talk with Fury last night was enough to make the choice for me. I couldn't live in this city anymore. The places I used to hang out at were still here, but they had been renovated so many times that they were unrecognizable. Everywhere I turned It was like I was walking through a strange alternate reality. I saw glimpses of the past, like ghosts around every corner, it was worse when it was a place Bucky and I frequented.

When I had gotten back from the Retreat I made the mistake of going to mine and Steve’s old apartment. It had been torn down to construct a bookstore, along with several other retail shops. I broke down in the street when I saw it, waves upon waves of emotions crashed into me. All the memories I had there with Steve, mom, and Bucky had no place to live now other than in my mind. The next mistake I made was to go down the next few blocks to Bucky’s apartment he shared with his mom and sister, Rebecca. It was no longer there either, a bakery stood in its place. I turned and left before the onslaught of tears came. After that day I thought it would be best to go somewhere else, somewhere I had no memories.

I crawled out from under the bed and slowly moved to the bathroom to start getting ready for the long day to come. Once I had showered and gotten dressed I sat myself down on the living room sofa, looking wearily at the telephone on the end table. Hesitantly I picked up the receiver and dialed the number that had been in the tesseract briefing file. It rang twice before Nick Fury answered.

“Mr. Fury, I’m calling to tell you that I won’t be joining your team for whatever mission you have going on. I just want to lay low and rebuild my life and live it quietly without interruption.” I let out a long breath.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Was really hoping to have you fight with us. If you change your mind, you know where to contact me. Goodbye Agent Rogers.” He hung up quickly after that, not giving me a chance to tell him goodbye as well. The next call was going to be the hard one, I had to tell Steve my plans. I dialed his number slowly as I raised the receiver to my ear. It didn’t even have time to get through the first ring before Steve picked up.

“Hello?” He asked on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s up kid. Have you called Fury about joining the mission? I called about an hour ago letting them know I’d help.” He sounded a little enthusiastic.

“That’s actually what I’m calling about. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this but I’m not going to help with the mission.”

“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “Why not? I thought you’d want to help get rid of that thing once and for all.”

“It’s not that, I want nothing more than for the tesseract to be gone for good. I just don’t think I can be a part of it, I don’t want this thing to take over my life if we can’t get rid of it. This brings me to another important thing I need to tell you. I can’t stay here in New York, so I’m moving to DC.” He was quiet for a while after I had said that, the only thing I could hear coming from his side was his breath. I grew more anxious by the minute waiting for him to say something.

“What do you mean you’re moving? Why can’t you stay here with me?”

“Don’t be selfish.” I snapped.

“I’m not being selfish, you are.” he raised his voice. I huffed through my nose, getting annoyed.

“I can’t stay here any longer. I have no idea what it is like for you, but for me, being in this city is torture. I see ghosts from the past every time I leave my house. I can’t go anywhere without seeing him, and every time I see him, I break down. I never got to say goodbye and that day plays over and over in my head. Steve, I’m being tormented with nightmares to the point where I have barely gotten five hours of sleep in the past week. I need to get out of here whether you like it or not.” Tears had started to stream down my face as I yelled into the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you, I still can help you if you let me. If you leave I can’t keep you safe, I can’t protect you like I’m supposed to.” He was using his soft “grown-up” voice he always used with me when I was younger to try and calm me down but the tears kept streaming down my cheeks at a rapid pace.

“I can protect myself, we did take the same serum,” I choked out. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to bother you with my problems, I can deal with them myself. Plus you have your own things to deal with, you don’t need to help me with mine.” My head was starting to hurt now and my cheeks and neck itched with quickly drying tears.

“Fine. The only way I will be okay with you leaving is if you promise to call me at least twice a week and you let me help you move.” I gave a strained laugh and nodded, even if he couldn't see it.

“Okay, it’s a deal. I actually already have an apartment lined up, so you can come over and help me pack everything up whenever you want to. I’m going to try and be out of New York by the end of next week.”

“I’ll be right over.” I laughed as I told him that I’d be waiting. I laid the receiver back down in its spot and stood up to go to the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking. I was glad my relationship with Steve could handle an argument, understand one another, then go right back to normal, I don’t think we would be this close if it couldn't. I blinked back a few stubborn tears and bent down to grab a rag from the sink cabinet, I dampened it in warm water then wiped the dried tears from my face. The warm water felt wonderful on my skin.

Over the next week and a half, Steve and I boxed up what few belongings I had and packed them and the furniture into a moving truck. I didn’t own a car so the moving truck would be my transportation to DC. One of the many things SHIELD had us do was take a modern driving test, which wasn’t hard, just a few more signs to remember and more gadgets in the car than there used to be, I ended up passing with flying colors.

By Friday morning we had everything ready to go. Steve would follow me on his motorcycle and I would drive the truck the whole three and a half hours to my new apartment.

We stopped several times on the way down, mainly so Steve didn’t have to sit on the bike for the whole three hours straight. We also stopped for lunch. All in all the trip took us about five hours, with traffic added. We made it to my new home just after two and we started moving my belongings in immediately.

Admittedly the apartment was way too big for just me but I liked the extra space, it was different from the tiny two-bedroom apartment I had grown up in. The first thing I made sure to unpack and put up was the bed. I still hadn't told Steve I wasn’t actually sleeping in the bed, but he didn’t need to know that. After that clothes were sorted through and put in their respective places. With our enhanced strength and stamina, we had the whole place relatively furnished in just under two hours. We stopped for dinner when everything had been brought up from the moving truck.

The day went by fast with us talking and laughing like we used to, it was a good change of pace from my usual aimlessly roaming around my apartment alone. But, all good things have to come to an end and Steve had to leave. He pulled me into a tight hug, almost crushing me, and wouldn’t let go until I pinky promised to call him several times a week. I just laughed and promised him I would. I was sad watching him walk down the hallway to the stairs.

I turned back into my apartment and closed the door, locking it behind me. I stared at the box littering the floor and decided to get to work unpacking the rest of what we hadn’t gotten earlier.

Most of my belongings I found in thrift stores and antique shops around the city. It may have been the twenty-first century now, but that wasn’t stopping me from making my home a comfortable, familiar space. If you walked in from the outside world, you would have thought you had been transported to the past with how much authentic 1940s and before things I had littered about. Some things had been saved from the apartment we lived in in the forties. I learned a few weeks before we came back from the retreat that Peggy had been the one to put everything in storage after they had failed to find Steve and me in the ice. I had gone through all of it and took out what I wanted to take with me and Steve had done the same. I was thankful Peggy had done what she did, otherwise, everything would have been lost to time.

That night as I tried to sleep, I realized it was a little easier to relax. DC was a whole lot quieter than New York, there was no honking or yelling every two seconds to keep me awake. I was left alone in almost complete silence, which for others may be worse than being bombarded with noise, but I didn’t mind. I fell asleep almost an hour after laying down for the night and had a restless sleep. I woke up many times in the night covered in sweat, but I couldn't remember the dreams, anything I could remember dissipated as soon as I opened my eyes.

I woke up again very early the next morning, the clock on my wall said it was four forty-five. It was still dark out, but I could hear birds starting to chirp. I crawled out from under the bed frame and went to put on some exercise clothes. Running always helped to clear my mind after not being able to get any sort of rest. The run itself didn’t take long, even though it was seven miles, any normal person would be exhausted but I had barely broken a sweat. I did get to see some nice places, taking a route around the zoo, to the National Cathedral, and then back around to the Dupont Circle neighborhood, where my apartment was. The sun was just starting to come up as I made my way back into my building.

Although I had just moved in the day before, I was ready to start finding some sort of job. The money SHIELD was giving me to help assimilate back into the world comfortably was appreciated, but I wanted to make my own way in life without their help. Finding a job was going to be harder than it used to be, but I did have expertise in several areas. Upon being unfrozen, along with the driving tests, SHIELD created a new resume for me. I had degrees in history pertaining to the 1940s, World War II, and several of the New Deal programs, with a specialty in the SSR. I was also given a Veteran ID, although I don’t really know how that one works because I definitely was not a part of the apparent ongoing fighting in Afghanistan. I still looked twenty-four, I doubt anyone would believe it.

Anyway, I had interviews lined up for today at the Smithsonian, and hopefully, the resume that SHIELD created and my knowledge would be enough to land a job. I had already figured that I would be volunteering at the local VFW. I knew I could find people there to relate to and hopefully be able to make some friends.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

23 notes · View notes

pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 4 years

Text

Two Points Higher | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 5380

A/N: I started binging Criminal Minds last week and I’m already on season 5... Spencer Reid is precious and my asexual heart needed some platonic fluff so I wrote it myself.

Warnings: fluff, interrogation, mentions of murder

Having Spencer Reid show up at your office was not an unusual occurrence. Having Spencer Reid show up at your office in the middle of the night with another FBI agent on his heels was.

“See I told you they’d be here,” Spencer almost tripped over a box of records by the door with the speed of which he burst in.

“I get it, I’m married to my job,” you rolled your eyes, not looking up from your computer, “what’s up?”

“(y/n), this is Agent Derek Morgan,” he gestured to the man behind him as he spoke. Spencer pulled up his usual chair in front of your desk and started rummaging in his bag.

“If you can find a seat you’re welcome to take it,” you smiled at Morgan, who was watching Spencer intently.

“We need your help,” Spencer pulled out a stack of photos.

“Spence, I have work to do,” you chided, though you pushed aside what you were working on to take the photos from him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Please?”

“You’re not really asking,” Agent Morgan finally cracked a smile at your comment, “I don’t see how I can help you though, these are neat crime scene photos but I’m not in the FBI.” As you observed the images Spencer stood up again, haphazardly pulling books off of your shelves and piling them on his now vacant seat.

“You missed it. Look again,” you scanned the images again, scrutinizing every detail. This time you noticed it, pulling each image closer to your face to really take in what you were seeing.

“Those are my labels. Why are my labels on human bodies?” Spencer pulled one last book off the shelf and started thumbing through it.

His voice was soft this time, as his eyes met yours, “we don’t know.”

You didn’t normally see Spencer when he was working a case like this, something about him seemed different.

“How can I help?”

“The rest of the team is on the way. Have you talked to anyone about your collections recently? Told them how you label and research?”

“The only one I’ve talked to about it is you, but it’s not exactly an industry secret. Anyone who has looked at the exhibits has seen my labels, people just don’t usually care about them.”

Spencer and Morgan exchanged a look, then Morgan stepped out to make a phone call while Spencer filled you in on the next course of action. The rest of the team would be using your office as a field station while they tried to figure out why the unsub would make exact copies of your labels.

“Have you known Reid long?” A blonde woman who Spencer introduced as JJ asked.

“Since preschool,” you recalled.

“(y/n) was the only other kid in class who could read,” Spencer commented from the adjoining collections room where he was poking around for signs of entry.

“Spencer was the only other kid in class who could remember dinosaur names, we made quite the pair until he graduated.”

“You only graduated two years after me.”

“Enough to get you ahead by two doctorates and a bachelors,” you shot back.

“What’s in the water over in Vegas?” Morgan commented, shooting Spencer a look when he started rattling off the exact contents of the water and how it definitely did not affect the development of your brains.

It was already the early hours of the morning, so it was decided that any investigating would wait until a more reasonable hour. The team mostly acquainted themselves with your space, finding places to work, sleep, or follow up on leads. Even Spencer was moving around, restlessly conversing with his colleagues. You kept to yourself at your desk, busying yourself with the bone you were looking at. The research was comfortable, though the background noise wasn’t.

“You should get some sleep,” Spencer said quietly to you after a few hours, leaning over your shoulder to observe the notes you were making. It felt oddly normal, considering the circumstances.

“I’m on to something here, I want to finish this first,” you turned to the next page in your notebook.

“I’m going to go nap in the other room then, wake me up if you need anything, ok?” you looked up at him with a soft smile and nodded. He went into the break room across the hall, laying down on the old couch. You watched after him for a minute then turned back to your work. A few minutes later, JJ sat down in front of your desk.

“Do you spend a lot of time together?”

“If he’s not working with you, he’s with me. I’m almost always here which is why he knows where all of the good sleeping spots are,” you smirked.

“What are you working on?”

“We don’t have any records on this bone, so I do the research and get as much information as I can about it. My official title is ‘Collections Curator’ but Spencer says I’m just as much a profiler as he is.”

“Have you ever thought about joining the Bureau?”

“Spence tried to convince me… once,” you chuckled lightly at the memory, “I like my job, it’s a lot lower stakes than what you do. I don’t need a gun, just some research material and my brain.”

“It does seem… still down here,” JJ observed.

“Our collections are stored down here so it’s all climate controlled. These rooms were free so I asked if I could trade my upstairs office for a collections research suite. Did you know that 80% of a museum’s collection isn’t displayed? The exhibits you see upstairs are only 20% of the entire collection,” you stopped talking when you noticed a change in her expression, “sorry, I’m rambling.”

JJ smiled kindly, “I can see why you’re friends with Reid.”

“I don’t know what I would have done without him growing up. It’s easier to be a kid genius when there’s another kid to be a genius with, makes you feel less alone. He’s always been more competitive though, tougher, too.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re also a genius?”

“I try not to flaunt it, unlike Spencer. If it wasn’t for his eidetic memory we’d have the same number of degrees,” you smirked.

“He’s different with you,” Morgan had stepped into the room and was poking through your stuffed shelves.

“Like I said, it’s easier to be a genius when you have someone else who gets it. Spencer and I don’t talk about what you do in the field, but I see what he looks like when he comes back from traveling. I do my best to make this a space where he can be a genius without all the crime and someone that he can just be himself with.”

“Having a support system is good. He needs one.”

“You said he’s different with me, but he’s also different with you. His behavior is consistent with when he was trying to plan a surprise for my birthday last year, except its a stressful secret not an exciting one.”

“I need to hear the birthday story later, when this is all over. You’re good at noticing details,” Morgan commented. You noticed the way both Morgan and JJ shifted nervously.

“I have to be, that’s how I do my research. One detail can open up a whole string of possibilities, but you all know that. At first I thought it just had to do with him being in the middle of a case, I’ve only seen him a handful of times when he’s working.”

“But?” Morgan’s question was leading, they knew you knew they were hiding something.

“This is the first time he’s ever come into my office wearing his gun.”

There was a pause during which you noticed both agents’ eyes soften.

“I’m no FBI agent, but if dead bodies were showing up with museum labels specific to one curator I would start by questioning the curator. None of you have acted like I’m guilty at all. Why?”

“Reid gave us your alibi and confirmed it all in one breath. The local police still want to bring you in, but they’re having trouble finding you. Reid knew where you were and wanted to get ahead of them, solve this before you were falsely accused.”

“They probably ended up at my apartment. I spend most of my time here, but I keep that lease for storage and other things. Not many people know I practically live here. Do either of you want coffee?” you took off the latex gloves you were wearing as you stood up. They shook their heads with a murmured ‘thanks’.

They started whispering behind you as you walked across the hall to the room where your best friend was spread out on the couch. You paused as you passed him, gently brushing a piece of hair from his face before continuing on to the kitchenette. Leaning against the counter, your gaze fell once again on Spencer as you waited for the coffee to brew. He slowly stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before standing up and joining you by the counter.

“You’re still working?”

“Have to make progress on my own projects while we’re waiting, before your case consumes my workday,” you bumped your elbow into him.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Hey, someone is using my specimen labels for murder victims. That’s not ok, my labels should be for museum collections only. I appreciate you telling me. I don’t appreciate whatever secret you and your team are keeping from me.”

“It’s characteristic for unsubs like this to have a fantasy… an unhealthy idolization that’s expressed in the victimology,” he stuck his hands in his pockets nervously. You thought for a minute as you poured a cup of coffee for yourself and your best friend.

“You think the unsub fantasizes about me.”

“We don’t know for certain. Two of the victims seem random, but three of them have an uncanny resemblance… and the labels…”

“Is that why you came to my office instead of just calling me for more information?” you leaned into his side, gripping your coffee.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” he pressed a kiss into your hair and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. You live your life and I live mine,” you took a sip of your drink.

“You only leave this basement to buy groceries and do laundry. Statistically you’re only seen by a small fraction of people in this city and somehow you’ve been targeted by someone who’s now going around killing people.”

“Statistically, the unsub could have seen anyone who lives in this city, including me. It’s not your fault,” you repeated, “you could have told me though, genius.”

Spencer cracked a tired smile, “didn’t want to scare you more than necessary.”

“You’re a better person than me.”

“You’re smarter than me,” he retorted.

“That’s why you’re a better person. That’s how you can do the job that you do. If I had to interact with strangers every day I’d implode.”

“Spontaneous implosion isn’t possible,” you rolled your eyes at his comment. Before you could respond he spoke again, “I love you.”

His words caught you off guard, not because you didn’t return the feeling but because they never needed to be said. You knew from the way his eyes lit up when he read your notes and how he always made you another coffee when he got one for himself. You had spent practically your whole lives together and you genuinely cared about him in a way you knew was reciprocated. You considered this boy family more than most of your blood relatives. Still, with everything going on it had to be said.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

You stood with his arms around you until the coffee in your hands went cold.

“I need to make sure your friend Derek isn’t messing up my office. Sorry I woke you up,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping away. When you made it to the hallway you started walking down towards the largest collection room instead of your office.

“Agent Hotchner? Do you have a minute?” You knocked on the doorframe of the large room that the agent had set up in.

“Of course, is everything ok?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Spencer. I know he’s supposed to be protecting me, but he’s also my best friend. He would put himself in danger- he’s expecting to put himself in danger for me. With all due respect, sir, I know you’re trying to do a job but please promise me that you’ll keep Spencer safe too.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” he said as you sat down in front of him.

“I don’t usually get myself into situations this stressful. My brain is rationalizing by flagging you as an authority figure. I know you’re not my boss but it’s easing my anxiety to think of you as one.”

Hotch looked at you calmly, a small smile on his lips, “I should have known Reid’s best friend would also be a genius.”

“My IQ is two points higher than his…sir,” it felt odd, joking with this man during such a stressful time.

“Reid is family to us too. We won’t let anything happen to him.”

“Spencer said that the unsub had a fantasy about me, and that’s why he was using my labels,” since your conversation with Spencer, your brain had been reeling for information.

“He asked that we didn’t tell you,” you sighed at his words.

“Of course he did. Now that I know, what information do you need? How can I be more helpful?”

“Reid asked you some questions when he got here,” you nodded, “if you’re up for it, I’d like to get the team together and ask you for more details.”

“Anything that helps,” your answer was definite, so Hotch rounded up the team with the exception of Spencer.

“Shouldn’t Reid be here?” Emily asked when you were all crammed into your office.

“I don’t want him… interfering. I don’t like biased research,” you told her.

“Then I guess we’ll get started. How exactly do you create the labels for your specimens?” Derek started the questioning.

“They’re printed on a specific cardstock that I get on special order. They’re all made down here, by me. I’m also the only one who handles the specimens, I don’t even let Spencer touch them.”

“Are there any other employees that work down here? Custodians, other curators?”

“What are you doing?” Your answer was interrupted by Spencer standing in the doorway holding two cups of coffee, in your respective favorite mugs.

“We’re doing research,” you spoke before any of your friend’s colleagues could.

“This looks like an interrogation,” Spencer came to stand behind you protectively, setting both cups down in front of you.

“I asked for this meeting, Spence. I want to help.”

“You should have told me,” he leaned closer to your ear, talking quietly so the rest of the team couldn’t hear. You didn’t usually see your friend this upset.

“Nobody comes down here regularly except for Spencer and I. It’s not open to the public, so anyone else needs a personal invite. Usually that’s when we’re changing exhibits, but everyone who helped me most recently has done it before. If it was one of them they would have killed before the first victim, right?” Derek nodded.

“Nobody else has been here in the last two months?” he repeated. You laughed half heartedly,

“I don’t have much of a social life. The only people I talk to are Spencer, the cashier at the grocery store, and Tim if I see him,” you added the last one as an afterthought.

“Tim?” Spencer stopped fuming by your side when your words piqued his interest.

“He teaches a museum history class at the community college in the city. They come by once a semester and tour the museum. You met him, remember?” Spencer averted his eyes from his team.

“I wouldn’t count that as a meeting,” you fought back a smile, recounting the way Spencer ran past the group of college kids as he tried not to let his severe hangover make him late for work.

“Tell me more about Tim, are you close?” Rossi refocused the meeting.

“No, just friendly. We email to schedule the tour, but it’s always professional. I see him at the grocery store most weeks, but it’s usually just an exchange of pleasantries.”

“How do you run into someone at the grocery store most weeks in a city like this?” Emily asked.

“I always go grocery shopping on Friday afternoons, from three to four. Spencer tells me I shouldn’t be so predictable but I work so much I have to schedule it in otherwise I forget. Tim must have the same schedule.”

“Have you seen Tim recently?”

“Now that I think about it, no. The last time I saw him was two weeks after the tour. He asked if I had dinner plans. That was the night we had tacos,” you bumped elbows with Spencer.

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I was making dinner for Spencer. You were all coming back from a trip, Spencer always comes over for dinner when you come home. I know I’m predictable but he’s never missed a dinner.”

“What was his reaction like when he heard you were making dinner for Reid?”

“He looked a little upset. I remember noticing it and thinking it was weird, but at the time I rationalized it. I’m not great at interacting with people. You don’t think Tim did this, do you? He’s really nice, always good with the kids. He asks a lot of questions because the kids don’t- oh God,” your eyes widened when you realized what you were saying. The office exploded in activity, with every agent moving to take action. Even Spencer moved, grabbing your arm and pulling you back across the hall into the break room. You noticed the way his hand was nervously on his gun.

“What happens next?”

“We don’t know for sure that it’s him yet. Garcia will cross check him against the profile. If it’s him, we’ll find him and lock him up. If it’s not… then we’re back to square one.”

“You seem more on edge than for it to be that simple,” you observed.

“Up until the most recent tour, Tim was able to admire you from afar. He saw you every week at the grocery store, and twice a year got to come down here to your personal paradise and see what you were doing. That was good enough for him until he saw me leaving here. That was the stressor. He suspected that we were… uh…”

“Dating?”

“Yeah. He tried to confirm it by asking about dinner two weeks later. It was coincidence that I was coming over that night. That was all he needed to kill out of rage.”

“You aren’t still blaming yourself for this, are you? Tim never asked if we were together. He never asked if I was with anyone at all. If he had this could have gone a lot differently. It’s his fault for assuming, not ours.”

Spencer put a hand on your back gently, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be reassuring you.”

As you rolled your eyes and told him it didn’t matter, Morgan stepped into the room.

“We’re heading out to catch this guy. Prentiss and JJ are staying, Garcia is watching the security cameras at all the entrances. Are you staying or going?” Morgan’s question was directed at Spencer. He thought for a minute, you knew he was considering the possibilities. If he stayed he could protect you personally, and he would also be protecting himself. If he went, he could personally take down the person who wanted to harm you and could be a good lure, but there was also a chance he would be targeted.

“I’ll stay. Keep me posted,” Morgan nodded, casting you a glance before running out.

“Now we wait,” Spencer rocked back on his heels, “will you show me that bone you were working on?” You were surprised he wanted to go back to business as usual, but maybe that was just it. You both needed a distraction from all of the chaos happening above ground without you. You went back to your office where Emily and JJ were. Their conversation paused when you stepped in.

“(y/n) and I are going to work on identifying this bone, there’s coffee across the hall if you want it,” Spencer said to the women.

“Thanks for staying,” you added, earning kind sympathetic looks from them as they stepped out.

“So, a long bone?” Spencer took one look at the fragment on your desk.

“Wow, he’s a genius,” you teased, sitting down, “here’s what I’ve got so far-”

You and Spencer spent hours researching. JJ and Emily popped in occasionally, but you were too engrossed in your work to see the amused glances exchanged between them as you bantered with your best friend. Spencer was trying really hard to keep things normal for you and this side of his genius, the way you fed off of each other’s stream of consciousness, was not something his coworkers usually got to witness.

Two hours into your work Spencer’s phone rang, causing you both to startle.

“Hotch,” he was quiet as he listened to the agent on the other end of the line, “yeah, uh, yeah we’ll be right there,” he hung up and turned to you.

“They got him, but there was no real proof. They’re interrogating him now, they want us there to help.”

“Us?” you followed him out of the office as he went to find Emily and JJ.

“He’s not talking, Hotch thinks he might break for me…”

“Or me…” you finished the thought for him. The car ride was tense, and even with Spencer by your side you felt very out of place. Spencer made sure you were next to him even through the whirlwind that happened when you got to the interrogation room. Through the glass you saw Morgan talking to Tim, though Tim wasn’t doing much talking.

“(y/n), would you feel comfortable going in and talking to him? Morgan will be there too, he’ll keep you safe,” Rossi asked.

Before Spencer could protest you nodded and squared your shoulders.

“Of course. What do I need to do?”

“Morgan will do most of the questioning. You just need to get him talking.”

You took a breath and stepped into the room, watching the relief on Tim’s face when you did.

“(y/n), I’m so glad you’re here. This is all just a misunderstanding. I’m not the guy they’re looking for.”

“It’s not up to me to decide that, Tim.”

“You’re here to tell them it wasn’t me, right?”

“They’ve already told us everything we need to know. You’re still talking to me,” Morgan said, pulling Tim’s attention away from you.

“Then why are they here? I see the way you all carry those guns around, it’s too dangerous,” Tim said.

“Too dangerous for who?” Morgan pressed.

“For (y/n).”

“So you care about them, are you close?” you watched Tim’s reaction.

“Very, you can ask me anything about them, I know it all,” he was confident in his answer. Morgan glanced at you and you gave him a small nod.

“What does (y/n) do for work?”

“They’re the Collections Curator at the museum. They spend all of their time there, except on Fridays when they go grocery shopping,” Tim was enthusiastic in his answer, and looked to you for validation. You nodded gently, encouraging him.

“How do you know that?” Morgan leaned forward a bit.

“My class has been touring the collections suite for years. That’s how we met, then I ran into them at the grocery store and we got to talking,” Morgan nodded, pausing for a moment.

“I guess you are close. Since you know so much, this will probably be an easy one. What is (y/n)’s boyfriend’s name?” you tensed, waiting for the answer.

“Spencer. He’s tall, I’ve only seen him once,” he grumbled.

“(y/n), you can tell him,” Morgan said, keeping his eyes on the handcuffed man in front of you.

“Tim, I don’t have a boyfriend,” your words were soft. Tim’s eyes narrowed.

“You do! I saw him, that’s why we can’t be together!” he started to sweat under the harsh light.

“He’s just my friend, Tim. You never asked,” you were trying your hardest to stay composed.

“I did ask! You said you were having dinner together! He was good enough for you to have dinner with, I KILLED FOR YOU. DIDN’T YOU SEE, I LABELED THEM JUST LIKE YOU DO. I DID THAT FOR YOU. HE WOULD NEVER,” Tim’s outburst caused him to stand up and lunge across the table at you. Derek simultaneously pushed you back and pushed him down, you weren’t really sure how. Tim was still thrashing around and yelling all sorts of things you were sure were going to incarcerate him, but above the noise Morgan was able to speak.

“That’s all we need. Thank you, (y/n).”

When you stepped out of the interrogation room you moved immediately into Spencer’s arms, like gravity was pulling you into the one person you felt safest with.

“You’re ok. It’s ok. We’re ok,” he kept repeating.

“Spencer,” you mumbled into the material of his sweater. His words stopped so he could listen, “he seemed so normal.”

“I know, I know.”

“Do they always seem normal?” Spencer sighed, you felt his chest move with the breath.

“No, not always.” You felt his muscles tense as he held you tighter. He went back to repeating his mantra of reassurance as you caught sight of two police officers escorting Tim out of the interrogation room.

“Reid, Hotch wants to see you,” Emily approached the two of you once the room had cleared.

“Go, I’m alright,” you told him, stepping out of his embrace. He kissed the top of your head before leaving you alone with Emily.

“You did a great job in there,” she said as you walked back to the bullpen.

“It didn’t feel like it,” you told her honestly, “I’ve known Tim for years, he was always so nice to me. He never seemed…capable… but the way he yelled…”

“I know. It’s over now, though. Is there anything we can get for you? Coffee?” you sat down at Spencer’s desk, feeling exhaustion wash over you.

“No, thanks. I think I’m just going to go back to the museum. I have some work there that needs some attention. Do you think Spencer could drive me? I’m not awake enough to take public transportation.”

“I’m driving, but we’re not going to the museum,” Spencer loped over from Hotch’s office, grabbing his jacket and bag from the back of his chair.

“What? Why not?”

“You’re coming back to my apartment. Hotch’s orders, you’re not allowed to argue.”

As much as you wanted to, you decided not to put up a fight and instead got into the Bureau vehicle with your best friend. It was quiet as he drove, you wanted to say something but you didn’t know what the right words would be to describe how thankful you were to have him in your life. The silence continued until you were inside, when Spencer offered you something to eat.

“Are you sure?” he asked from the kitchen when you declined. You were by his bookshelves, running your finger down the spines of the many books he owned. Even though most of the time you spent with Spencer was in the museum, you had been to his apartment before on multiple occasions. You had never been there long enough to read his large collection of books, though you wished you had the time because you always trusted Spencer’s book recommendations.

“I’m sure. Thanks, though,” you paused to pull a Chaucer book off the shelf, “why did Hotch want me to come home with you?”

“He wanted you somewhere safe and comfortable, where you can process what happened without being completely alone. I know you wanted to go back to the museum but I also know what you’re like when you’re working and going back to work isn’t going to help you process what just happened. I thought coming here would give you a chance to eat and sleep,” he took the book out of your hands and put it back in its place.

“Is it that obvious?” you were having a hard time keeping your eyelids open. Spencer laughed lightly.

“It is, you should get some rest. I’ll be right out here, I have to finish this report,” he gestured to the folder he had brought home. You nodded, padding over to the bedroom. As soon as you crossed the threshold you could feel your distance from Spencer, who was leaning against the counter scratching away at the file with a pen.

“Spencer?” he turned to you quickly, his eyebrows mashing together in concern.

“Is that report kitchen specific, or could you do it in here?” his face softened. He left the file abandoned where it was on the counter as he rushed over to you. He helped you into bed, before sitting at the opposite end and settling by your feet.

“I’m not going anywhere, you’re safe now,” he put a hand on your leg. The pressure was reassuring, to say the least, and you found yourself easily slipping into sleep underneath Spencer’s quilt.

When you woke, Spencer was still at the end of the bed with a book in his hands. His feet, clad in mismatched socks, were crossed by your shoulder. You gently prodded at his foot, causing him to twitch and look up from what he was reading.

“You’re awake,” he smiled, putting the book down beside him. You sat up and stretched out your arms.

“You’re still here,” you smirked.

“It’s my apartment,” his quip was light and gentle.

“You’re right, I should get back to the museum,” you started to get up, but Spencer put a hand on your foot.

“Stay here for a while. You work too much, some time off would be good for you.”

“You work just as much as I do, genius. I’m not going to loiter in your apartment while you’re off fighting crime.”

“Hotch is letting me stay home for a few days. If an urgent case comes up I’ll help remotely, but I’m not leaving you.”

“Spence, you don’t have to-“

“I want to, (y/n). You’re my best friend who just went through a traumatic experience. Your family is 2,431 miles away, but even if they were closer you wouldn’t spend time with them. You said it yourself, I’m the only one you talk to regularly. I’m not going to abandon you now.”

“Haven’t we talked about you profiling me?” Spencer blushed.

“That wasn’t a profile, just information.”

“Sure,” you yawned.

“Go back to sleep, you still have some catching up to do.”

“You’re keeping track?” you asked, though you laid back down to get more comfortable.

“It’s simple subtraction, (y/n). I don’t need a PhD in mathematics to know you have slept far less than is healthy for the last three days,” he picked up the book again, finding the place where he left off.

“What are you reading?” his eyes flickered up to meet yours again.

“Dickens, Great Expectations.”

“You’ve read that one before,” you commented, surprised he didn’t have more to say on the subject.

“I have. I thought you might like it, I was just passing the time while you were sleeping. I can read it to you, if you want. It always made me feel better when my mom read to me.”

“I’d really like that,” you settled deeper into the pillow, listening to your friend’s voice as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time since Spencer had burst into your office, you finally felt content.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #platonic imagine #platonic fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

339 notes · View notes

spice-chan · 4 years

Text

Fall in Azuchi

pairings : Kirishima Eijiro x (fem)reader

wordcount :5050 words

warnings : just fluff, lots of it. flirty kiri, soft kiri. Ancient japan setting ( kiri is a warlord) mentions of war and blood but not too many and nothing too descriptive.

After Kirishima, on a passing, tried the dumplings that you made, he couldn’t get the taste out of his mind. Now that it’s fall festival, it’s about time he paid you a visit.

note: this work was done as a part of a collab with the theme ‘Fall Festival’ in mind. Thanks to all the encouragement of the amazing participants, this work turned out well ! thanks to @etegomanere / @dark-and-delightful for being beta and giving constant encouragement. Please don’t hesitate to check out the work of the others in this collab, they all worked so hard and did amazing !

collab masterlist

.........................................

Fall. The season of rebirth, of crispy leaves and chilled weather.

But in Azuchi, the most prosperous city of its time in the era, famed for its magnificent castle and fearsome warlord, Bakugou Katsuki (warlord most likely to unify the nation), fall isn’t famed for its abundance of orange leaves painting the ground. No, it was famed for its most festive celebrations that took place during it. Fall festival.

In a time of war and unsettlement, instead of collectively resenting our lives and how the cycle of rebirth let us down, we instead decide to unify and bring out the best in each other. Lanterns decorated the prosperous city, coloured orange to pay homage to the season and its beauty. Each tea house and corner shop brings its bakes its best selections, which didn’t stray too far from Yokan pumpkin cake, dumplings with pumpkin, pumpkin in this and pumpkin in that, it would be appropriate to send gratitude to the Portuguese for the wonderful fruit.

It’s a time where stalls litter every corner of the region, and where musicians display their talent to the joyous masses. It's a happy time. Especially for the infamous Kirishima Eijiro, warlord and head of the Kirishima clan, who just defeated a rebellion in his region and came to celebrate the festival on his ally’s land, Bakugou Katsuki, devil king of the sixth heaven. The blunt truth was that although Kirishima loved his homeland, Azuchi was a good place to unwind in. The other truth would be that Kirishima missed his friend and wanted to make sure he’s doing well.

But there was an unavowed, untold wish in there somewhere. It's got little to do with the vicious- yet- not really warlord that Kirishima made an ally of, and not his beautiful Azuchi where the colour orange reigned over, making the land appear like a painting for the faraway eyes. But to say that it has nothing to do with the festival would be a lie, because a certain tea house that Kirishima is dying to visit would surely be participating.

It started with Kaminari buying him some dumplings from there for their journey to ambush a camp of bandits. Kirishima fell in love with the flavour.

He never got the time to visit again, despite intending to, as an upheaval of battles barged their way into his life, disturbing any momentary peace he experienced. As his life often is, not that he hates it, Kirishima learned to love the symphony of clashing swords and the red paint that coloured a battlefield, he learned to appreciate it as an artist admires a finished piece of work that took blood, sweat, and tears to finish.

He learned how to find euphoria in the quickening of his heartbeat as it feared for its host’s life.

But when Kirishima tastes those dumplings, despite him being an amazing and talented cook, he was enamored with their taste, he found pleasure in something far from war, far from anything he found ecstatic in the ring of a bloodthirsty man.

That small rush of happiness that flooded his taste buds and went straight to his heart was short-lived, and Kirishima was starting to forget the feeling itself. But tonight, he finally visits the place. Tonight he will see the cute waitress that works there that Kaminari babbled on and on about.

So, dressed in a quite seasonal Yukata that was tailored with the best seamstresses in town, Kirishima left Azuchi castle to march into the festive town.

The harmony of instruments filled the town from the direction of the shrine, giving the already festive town and even more joyous atmosphere. Laughter filled the air as people walked by, purchasing from the stalls who went the extra mile to include many pumpkin flavoured and orange sweets. And while tōrōs were lined up in every corner and on top of every place, nothing compared to the brightness on people’s faces from every corner, every tea shop, every merry couple, and all bright-eyed children. From poor workers to prosperous merchants, everyone sported a type of smile that let you know they were pleased on this day.

It’s quite different from the savage, animalistic and feral look Kirishima has whenever he stands victorious after a battle, when he relishes in the afterglow of battle now that it’s done. When his one eye surveys the after damage, tears at the corner of it but not from sadness, but not quite exhaustion either.

Kirishima continued walking, his mind plagued by thoughts, whether unwelcomed or not, until he reached his destination, stopping abruptly when he realized he was about to walk past it. He fixed his eyepatch, and grinned wolfishly, albeit slightly when he noticed you. You were everything Kaminari described and more. Down from your cute smile to your bright (e/c) eyes, that looked warm and welcoming. Even your cheeks had a healthy tint of red to them, as if you were bashful. Kirishima’s feet carried him to you, not stopping at your shocked face, who wouldn’t be shocked at seeing the one-eyed tiger? But although that expression on your face was cute, Kirishima wanted to elicit another kind of expression.

“You are the one who made dumplings here a few weeks ago, right? Your dumplings are amazing !” Kirishima praised, a lackadaisical smile on his handsome face. He saw how you flushed, not expecting him to compliment you straight off the bat.

“Uh, thank you, I don’t believe I saw you around here m’ lord.” You responded politely, already acquainted with the one-eyed lord through seeing him through your town a lot, and hearing the whispers of castle servants who visited the merchants for different tasks. You heard how powerful he is, and you observed how popular as well, from the blushes on the maidens’ cheeks as they spoke of him.

You were quite flattered at his compliment, that someone of such importance was praising you, yet even willing to talk to you unprompted.

His smile got even wider at hearing your response, his tiger-like teeth sharp and fully on display as he flashed you a heart fluttering, fan worthy smile.

“Yeah, a friend of mine bought them from here. He went on and on about you, and I have to agree. “You familiar with Kaminari Denki?” At that, you gasped in recognition, nodding your head fondly as you flushed.

“Well, give him my thanks for the good words, at least I hope they were ?”

“All good, kitten.” You raised your eyebrows at the nickname, for sure impressed and embarrassed by the warlord's forwardness. You had many responses, but were afraid to voice them, lest you overstepped your boundaries. But this warlord seemed too friendly, too approachable then the others you heard of or met to get offended by your statement.

“Kitten? M’lord, you’re the tiger, doesn’t that make you the kitten?” You snarked, relieved when you saw no sign of hostility on his face, only a smirk appreciatively as your flirty tone set in.

“A lass with snark. I like that. Please don’t scratch this lord with your claws.” He teased, a finger caressing your warmed cheeks.

“Would you like a table, lord Eijiro ?” You questioned reminding him that he was standing in the middle of a tea house conversing with a worker. He nodded, telling you to lead the way with a ‘lass’ somewhere in his statement. He ordered some of the dumplings he was so enthusiastic about, and a nice serving of kabocha pumpkin yokan with tea.

His order arrived shortly, the restaurant owner being over-excited about having a lord in his premise. He took a bite of the dumplings, the firm texture crispy, until he broke through the layer to reveal the sweetness he was enthralled with. The deliciousness spread to his mouth, the taste transferring to warmth as it reached his very own heart. It tingled, and tickled, like someone was caressing it with a feather or blanketing it after a long day of winter and rain. He could never understand how one piece of dumpling can make him so happy, even though he was an avid fan of food, his own could never make him feel this way. He blushed slightly, not used to- well- anything having this effect on him. His clean hand went to his crimson hair, running through it as he tried to regain his composure. His fingers wrapped around the teacup, lifting it to his lips and taking a sip, slowly as to not burn his tongue. Even your tea was amazing, what in God’s name?

A crispy leaf flew, fluttering until it landed next to his plate. He took hold of it with his slender and calloused fingers, not expecting it to break due to its expired state. It’s weak in nature, perhaps similar to humans, but it would be more accurate to describe them as ephemeral. They feel easily, and their destiny is so swayable by the tides of fate.

Then he saw you, fluttering about, serving from table to table with a smile, a polite one, but it nevertheless enchanted him with its beauty. He wanted to see you smile even wider, a truer smile. He wanted to see that adorable tint on your cheeks get even redder when he teases you. He found you inexplicably irresistible. He thought you were just a talented but shy lass, but then you went and teased him right back, quite a bold and unexpected move. It showed him how much he truly needs to understand a person like you.

And as the warmth of the tea soaked his heart and made it feel lukewarm on a fairly chilly day, he made a resolve to see you again. He really wants to eat your food, and maybe discover why he loves it so much. Maybe it’s a trade secret? But he has a feeling it’s something to do with its very own creator: you.

And once he finished his food, he gave you one last look, willing the image of you to imprint on his mind before he found the will to leave. And once his shadow was made scarce, you looked at his empty seat, disappointed to find its previous occupant gone.

Kirishima walked around, trying to find something entertaining, like a token that he can take home with him. Or an interesting thing that will form a memory that he can keep. To say ‘hey I did this and that’ but nothing seems to appease the young lord.

His thoughts keep straying to you, as if they were not his own.

His hand involuntarily twitched to his sword, caressing the handle gingerly. Worn and sturdy, the handle still feels somewhat warm, despite Kirishima not touching it today, he hadn’t had a reason to. He’s almost wishing for one.

Alas, not all wishes come true. Kirishima could sit all day wishing that some bandits would terrorize some alleyway to an inconspicuous teashop, where he’d stumble accidentally, finding the pretty commoner who served him dumplings being manhandled, he’d waltz in and become her samurai in shining Katana. Nah, he’d be better off becoming a Noh fanatic.

He did find a stand that served dumplings though. And he purchased one, but as the taste hit, he found himself immediately dissatisfied. Je looked around, seeing every customer eating carelessly, none sporting the frown he has, laughing as they bit down on their dessert, not finding a problem with the texture, taste, feel, and paste.

After Kirishima had a taste of ambrosia, this felt like a premature grape, plucked too early and aged like milk instead of wine.

His eyes glazed over, before a lantern-lit up over his head. Why is he huffing and puffing like a child?! If he wants excitement, if he wants answers, then he’ll get them. Why else is he Kirishima Eijirou?

Kirishima dumped the dumplings he bought, running over to the teashop he knows you work in. Luck seems to be on his side, because when he arrived, he saw you leaving, wearing a different attire that did no justice to your beauty. A carmine colored Kimono. You and his match! That must be a sign from buddha!

He could up to you, his giant figure deterring the bypassers from wanting to bump into him.

“Kitten!” He beamed at you.

You furrowed your brows for a second, turning around to gouge where the sound came from, only for your search to be cut short as your eyes met a cheerful lord’s.

“Lord Eijirou, have you been enjoying the festival?” You questioned politely, wanting to fill the silence that would ensue as you resisted the urge to question him with what you are really thinking. You didn’t want to impose, you were all too aware of his situation and yours.

“So like, how much do you get paid a month here?” He asked. He watched your brows furrow quizzically as you answered.

“And what would you say if I offered to give you more then triple that if you make me dinner, with dessert and all ?” He further interrogated, piquing your interest.

“Well then I’d say lead the way, m’ lord !” You replied cheerfully, his nature must be contagious.

His lips quirked at your reply, his canines visible giving him a mischievous look despite the innocence his smile itself radiated. He grabbed your hand, to your astonishment, and zeroed through the crowd, his long legs giving him advantage, however, you were stuck using up all your stamina to even keep up with him in a crowded street!

He kept a tight hold of your hand, not stopping once nor did his lips cease to smile. He would have looked like a feral cat, his sharp teeth on display in excitement, running with a sole destination while everyone around him appeared to be simple herbivores, insignificant and incomparable to the majestic being he is. But he honestly looked more like a carefree child, his bloody eyes like bright berries, glinting in harmless excitement.

Eventually, the crowd was dispersed, and the castle was naught but a few feet away. You suddenly felt anxious, were you really going in there? Did you really hold hands with Kirishima Eijiro? It was high, really high, and you felt intimidated looking at it. Meanwhile, the male next to you rolled his shoulders.

“Man, I just couldn’t wait to eat more of your cooking! I’m sure some people must have enjoyed this festival, but after I had your food, I think I got ruined, so you have to take responsibility! Wouldn’t want this handsome lord to starve.” He confessed excitedly, rambling as he led you to the castle, at a walking pace this time, although the exercise he did and made you do didn’t seem to deter him or have the least effect on him. He walked over the bridge, and walked you through the entry of the castle as if it’s as familiar as home to him.

Kirishima however paused when he saw a blond warlord approach him with an unimpressed look. The intimidating warlord dressed in fancy embroidered orange kimono approached. The air around him felt hot and cold at the same time, and his face was devoid of any smile, instead, his full lips were scowling, and his hellish red eyes were glaring rather grumpily. His spiky hair looked as sharp as the swords he carries, and you found yourself shrinking behind Kirishima. Who seemed unphased, if anything.

“Hey man! Looking sharp, I guess even you like celebrating fall season huh ?” He observed, and to your utter horror, clapped him in the back. You half expected the famed lord, Katsuki Bakugo, to pull his sword out and slash the hand the touched him, but he slapped it away instead, seeming ruffled.

“You’re back huh? Too soon. You may leave again, shitty hair.” He replied gruffly. As if just noticing you, the warlord's intimidating eyes looked down at your softer (e/c) ones, the flame in his red eyes never diminishing.

You bowed in respect, saying a curt ‘m’ lord’. He nodded at you in acknowledgment, making you sigh in relief. He instead turned to Lord Eijirou with raised eyebrows as if to say ‘really? This is why you came early?’

“Bro, we are just gonna have dinner! But if something did happen, I wouldn’t be opposed…”

You blushed at his bold statement, right in front of the most powerful Warlord no less! Were you supposed to reply? Feeling yourself starting to clam up as both warlords stared you down.

“I don’t do it before marriage.”

…

Bakugo stared at Kirishima somewhat triumphantly, as if he gets a twisted satisfaction out of seeing his shitty haired friend be put in awkward situations.

Kirishima however, was surprisingly red. So… you wanted to marry him?!

“Well, I mean, uhhh, well I dunno ‘is too soon.” He rambled awkwardly, making everyone’s faces blank before yours twisted into a grimace while Bakugo’s seemed somewhat similar.

“Dumbass, who’d wanna marry your shabby ass?” Bakugo asked, smacking Kirishima at the back of his head then walking away; he had enough weirdness.

Kirishima, who was still flushed from receiving a marriage proposal from the cutest girl he’d met, shuffled his feet awkwardly, before coughing and recomposing himself.

“Uh, umm, dinner ?” You remind him, snapping Kirishima out of his trance. Oh yeah! He was gonna get dinner with you and discover what sort of sorcery you used to make it taste so good.

“OH, yeah, dinner.” He reiterated, taking your hand and leading you to where the kitchens near his bedroom are. Bakugo was aware of his friend’s hobby and gave him his own personal kitchen. A very nice gesture. One of the many that led Kirishima to believe his blond friend has a very soft core.

He arrived there with you in tow, making a grand gesture as you entered.

“And this is my not very humble personal kitchen. You may use anything and everything as you please.” He proclaimed, leaning down, adding in a whisper -“kitten”.

Well, now you had to make food so good, it’ll shut his teasing mouth. His teasing, pretty mouth.

And you got to it, moving in the kitchen with practised precision, sometimes adding your own touch. You made your favourites, things you’d learned from your mum, your grandma’s recipe, the last meal your dad ate before heading to war, saying it’d provide him with the blessing of Buddha. You hope it has, you heard he fought bravely and died a death warriors are envious of. No one should envy death, but you were glad your father had honour and respect even in his death.

You resented that food for a while. And the first time you made it after his death, you ended up crying as you took the first bite of it, remembering the way he scooped up serving after serving, maybe deep down knowing that it would be his last time eating it. Still, he smiled at you adoringly as he departed, never shedding a tear.

You wished you could smile a smile devoid of sadness, but instead, it looked like broken china, with tears streaming down your face as you remembered your father’s kind (e/c) eyes shining in the sun as he bid you farewell forever, reminding you that he ate his ‘fortune food’, you shouldn’t worry about him. Sometimes you wished you didn’t take his reassurances to heart. Maybe you would have hugged him tighter, or smiled at him brighter.

Nevertheless, the more you made Oroshi soba, the fewer tears you cried, the more fond memories of it started to resurface.

You laid out a perfect dinner table, even the smell of the perfectly seasoned and simmered food had Kirishima with his sophisticated palate salivating. He watched you closely while you cooked. Sometimes you had a frown, sometimes you smiled and sometimes you grimaced. Why are you so expressive? Especially when it comes to food, shouldn’t you be stressed, frowning and fretting, trying to please him, a warlord in such a high station he can get you beheaded in a matter of minutes- no, seconds?

But you were fluttering around the kitchen, whether as a butterfly whose wings were sculpted by the finest smith, or a fall leaf, seasoned by time, only a deity would know.

He invited you to sit with him, which caused you to pause slightly, taking in his words in disbelief.

“You really want me to dine with you ?” You said cautiously. Your heartfelt like a warm blanket enveloped it when he beamed and nodded, and you’d never realized how chilled it was until now. You’d never met someone so… down to earth.

You would be a fool if you refused that.

You took a seat in front of him, still cautious that he might change his mind any second. A few minutes went past and he didn’t.

“Why are you not eating? You made too much food so it can’t be the quantity.” Kirishima asked you after swallowing his bite. His face was flushed because of how warm this food made him feel. It tasted heavenly, and he is still in the starters.

He watched you carefully, you didn’t add any weird ingredients, so it couldn’t have been sorcery, so what is it?!

So you tentatively reached out with your chopsticks towards one of the sides that your grandma taught you to make. You haven't had it in so long, the ingredients are a bit hard to find in this market. When you ate it, a fond smile took over your features. Her recipe had always been unmatched. You could never find anything that was on par with it. Unknowingly, the young lord watched you, unable to keep his curiosity to himself, asked what prompted you to smile.

“Well, I just remembered my grandma, she taught me how to make this !” You exclaimed, a bit giddy at finally telling someone why you loved that dish so much. His carmine eyes studied you, trying to discern you. A family recipe. That’s why it tasted so unique.

He decided that it’s enough with the sides, despite how delicious they tasted. He couldn’t give himself a bloated stomach with him. His chopsticks reached towards the Oroshi soba, thinking it couldn’t possibly taste better than the Oroshi soba he had in Kyoto. It couldn’t beat it, right? That soba — was… fuck.

He could feel every flavour bursting out and mixing with the other in an amazing harmony, as if everything you cooked inside it was joined through matrimony. He filled his plate with it, eating with a haste that could put shame on his statues. He couldn’t help himself!

Is that the food you always eat? He could only wish to be as gifted as you.

“How is it so good ?!” He questioned with a mouthful, prompting an amused smile from you, a smile that sent arrows straight to his heart.

You took a bite of it, humming at the taste.

“Must have been practise. This soba means a lot to me, you know. It brings back a lot of fond memories.” You replied offhandedly, piquing Kirishima’s interest.

He swallowed his food, and wasted no time asking about this— this amazing soba!

However, the answer he got back wasn’t as lighthearted as he might’ve envisioned.

By the time you were done, his iced heart, hidden behind pointy swords that chill you to the very bone, was squeezing painfully in his chest.

Kirishima enjoyed war. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline when he’s in the field that acts as the in-between for life and death. He enjoyed how his sweat-drenched him from brow to toe, and he relished in the hollers of victory. He didn’t mind death, but somewhere along the way, he forgot that there are many, many people waiting for him to be back home.

“Then why do you still make it?” He demanded to know somberly. All the cheer he previously had dissipated seemingly out of nowhere. All he had was this pressing need to know more, to know why you went so far to keep the memory of this dish alive even though it’s very existence is a lie, it should cause you pain, yet you smiled while retelling how your father ate it before he headed off to war, never coming back.

You seemed somewhat shocked at his change in demeanor, but tried to not let it ruffle you so much. This topic is not one for cheer to most anyway, especially to seasoned warriors who are constantly out and fighting, whether they wish to or not.

“Well, whether or not my dad made it, that food was still something that brought him at least a semblance of happiness in his last moments with his family. If eating amazing food will remind a person that even though life is unstable, and it might not go on forever, everything is alright now at this moment! I hope it makes sense. I don’t talk about this a lot. I just, I want to make people feel like even though we live in somber times, we don't have to lead somber lives! “You confessed. Every word, exclamative and unsure phrase tugged at Eijiro’s heartstrings. Even in your passion, you found a way to share it and bring people the happiness you felt.

You were so ordinary looking, just a tea house worker, living and leading a mundane life. But Eijiro had never met someone so incredible, you didn’t carry a sword or fight bloody battles, but you sought to make everyone’s day a little brighter in your own way. He had never met someone so unique and intriguing, so lovesome. Nothing about you is mundane.

And that’s when it clicked. A notion so far-away, a person of his status didn’t question it anymore, nor wonder it. But it’s the reason he was so enamored with your food.

You made it with love.

You poured your passion, heart, memories into making every little thing, it’s a wonder how a person could possibly not be moved by it.

No master chief could compare to it.

And now that Eijirou is facing the possibility of never having it again, of going back and not seeing you for who knows how long, filled him with indescribable pain, like a void that you managed to fill in him is now all the more apparent. But what could he do? He had only met you today, really. With a resigned sigh, he accepted that he wouldn’t be seeing you all too soon after this.

He nodded, smiling at you slightly. Somehow, even with all the smiles he’d shown you all day, this one felt even more laced with emotion. Like the very movement was all the telling you need about how he felt.

And after that, he had dumplings.

And after, he bid you goodbye.

But not before he promised something.

“(Y/n), if I promised to be back, will you believe me ?” He asked you at the entrance of the castle just as you were about to depart.

“And if I said no, will you prove me wrong?”

“You know it, kitten. I gotta have that amazing food again and the amazing company that comes with it.”

The moonlight reflected off your eyes, making them look like gems to Eijiro. And another gem you graced him with was your smile.

Kirishima made sure that he had something tangible to remind him of the day. He decided to walk you back to town, and found a wood craft of an Autumn leaf. It was carved with a knife and coloured with colours varying from orange to yellow, also crafted with a stand. Kirishima thought it was a perfect memo of the magical fall day he had.

He kept it in his office, and looked at it every day to remind him that even though life is tough, you have to appreciate the good in it. He looked at it in the good days, the bad, and after battles.

And the next fall festival, he was back.

He stayed for longer this time, and visited a few more times throughout the year, his alliance with Bakugo still being strong.

And the one after, he brought you back with him.

……….

Bonus

Kirishima sat on the futon drowsily, having had a bit too much sake. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes looked dazed, yet they still lingered on you. You were reading a book about something Kirishima forgot. You frowned, your eyes leaving the book to look outside in contemplation.

You flipped the book, putting it aside and crawling your way to Kirishima’s side on the futon. Your eyes still seemed to be wondering with a faraway look in them.

“Eijiro, if you could do one thing right now, what would it be ?” You questioned him curiously.

Eijiro hummed in wonder, but his brain didn’t travel far.

“I could show you.”

“No, I mean like, anything-“

Eijiro cut you off by pressing his lips to your softly, stealing the words out of your mouth as they moved against yours tenderly.

“You simple fool.”

“Only for my kitten.”

Yeah, Kirishima could hypothetically do a lot of things, but at the moment, all he wanted was to enjoy the simple life with you. To cherish the little things and big.

……………

bonus 2

Bakugo walked into Kirishima’s kitchen, eyes scanning the place in search of him. He didn’t find him, but his nose found something else.

He took powerful strides towards the smell, seeing a table with some leftover food that the fool didn’t clear away yet.

He looked around, seeing no one, then took one of the chopsticks, and tried one of the dumplings you left on the table.

He nearly moaned as the sweetness hit his tongue, just the amount of sweetness he likes.

Bakugo finished the rest, a satisfied sigh leaving him. So, this is why Kirishima was so into your food, that he brought you over to make dinner.

Good for him.

Bakugo’s carmine eyes stared at the empty plate longingly, then his lips quirked down enviously. You seemed really cute too.

His eyes softened with an unfamiliar look, before hardening again, leaving the kitchen as silent as it had once been.

The End .

.......................

thanks for reading so far, hope you liked it ! don’t be afraid to comment, I always want to hear your thoughts.

coffee ?

103 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

below the surface | sam taylor

word count; 9022

summary; sam admires your fire, the two of you are good friends, and he just wants to help free you live to your fullest potential.

notes: there is some slightly odd themes here, but it was the norm for those times, so you’re just going to have to accept them, it really makes the story, so go with it.

warnings: smut, some misogynistic themes, verbal abuse.

Sam Taylor liked the 1920’s, far more than he ever liked the prospect of the 2020’s. He liked the simplicity of his life, he liked the friendly atmosphere, he liked watching history unfold, but most of all, he liked the woman he had first become acquainted with two years ago.

It had taken him a little while to settle down, to find a home and build a business for himself, and the ‘roaring twenties’ that he was oh-so-fond of were definitely picking up their speed. It all felt very Gatsby-esque to him, and a year after his arrival in the time, he’d returned to the speakeasy he’d once visited with Evelyn. It had taken time for that wound to heal, and he felt that being able to return to the place he once treasured with her might be the final step for him to be able to close that chapter of his life, and move onto another one.

The speakeasy itself wasn’t actually where he had met you. Actually, it had been a few roads over, when he’d been drawn to the sounds of shouting and laughter, and he’d found you shouting at a group of younger men, who couldn't have possibly been more than their late teens, who were leering at you and trying to grab onto you. He hadn't even had to do anything, he had arrived to help but you had taken care of it yourself, shaking your head and mumbling about stain removing when the blood of a now broken nose stained your white glove, the group looking shocked, and then appalled, before running off with their bleeding friend and spitting insults at you.

“Well, go on then!” You had spun to face him, eyebrows raised and one gloved hand, one bare hand, sitting on your waist as you waited for him to speak, and he merely raised an eyebrow at you. “Tell me how unladylike I am, how I shouldn’t be out alone, or how I’ll never find a husband with an attitude like mine? I’d bet you a half dollar that you couldn’t tell me anything that I haven’t heard before.”

“I was going to say I think that was rather impressive, actually.” You had stared at him, eyes narrowed for half a second, before you’d been opening the clutch purse in your hand, shoving both gloves inside of it and producing a small silver coin, held out to him in the palm of your hand. “Nobody has ever told you how impressive it is that you can stand up for yourself before?”

“I’m not sure if you noticed, sir, but women are supposed to be seen and not heard.” You spat out the words distastefully, and he let out a small laugh, ducking his head and taking you hand in his, curling your fingers back around the coin in refusal to take it, but he could already see another argument building back up within you at the rejection of the token.

“Well, if I hadn't have heard you, I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you, and I’m rather glad I did.” He held out his hand, introducing himself formally and waiting as you studied him once again, before offering your name in return. “How about you use that bet to buy me a drink, hm? I know this great little spot below the surface.”

“You’d let a woman buy you a drink?”

“I’d let you buy me several, but I do believe in equality, so if you’d let me keep your company for longer, I will be insisting that we take turns on the purchases.” That had earned him a genuine smile, and he took your hand in his and placed it into the crook of his elbow, guiding you down the streets towards the only little store with the lights still turned on.

“I suppose you’ll know somewhere that sells a real drink, do you, Mr Taylor?”

He flashed you a cheeky grin in response, insisting that you call him Sam, even with all the formalities of the time, because clearly you didn’t play by your own eras rules, and he liked that a lot. Holding open the door to the shop, you stepped in ahead of him, the owner looking up at both of you cautiously, a brow raised as he paused in his movements for wiping down the counter.

“We’re closed, what are you looking for?”

He cleared his throat, sparing you a glance before he was stepping forwards. “Cabbage.” Some dead silence hung in the air, and a slight warmth rose to his cheeks form the very moment the ridiculous codeword had left his mouth.

“I’m sorry, you’re looking for what?”

“Y’know, cabbage?” He nodded his head towards the door he remembered from last time, and the shop assistant looked between him, back to you, before him once again, and you sighed, your hand landing once again on his upper arm as you came up to stand behind the counter by his side.

“Do you have any red linens?”

The man seemed to catch on, his lips flicking up at the sides, and Sam’s cheeks only grew darker in colour as the two of you were guided away toward the stairwell hidden in the back of the store, the speakeasy concealed below. Once the door was closed behind you, your forehead had pressed to his arm, a series of small giggles leaving you and he let out a playful huff as you did.

“That’s an old phrase, it’s changed every six months to keep it from spreading too quickly.” You confided, and he hummed, pushing the coding to the back of his mind to be remembered until it was changed once again.

“You’ve been here before, then?”

“I can be found at this bar every Thursday, my father likes to spread the word about having a daughter of age with a dowry to boot, ready to be married off.” Your words had turned bitter at the end, and Sam had sighed, shaking his head and offering you a frown, but he wanted to keep the mood lighter, as he was enjoying your company.

“So, if I happened to be here on a Thursday evening, I might find you here, too?”

“You just might, Sam. Now, how about that drink?”

Meeting you at the bar on Thursday nights had rather rapidly become a constant in Sam’s life, he counted down the days and hours until he could see you again, to listen to you excitedly talk about your week as you sipped on gin at the bar and let you ramble about the book you had been reading, or the story you’d heard from your friends, or simply the new and fleeting hobby you had picked up and dropped in the last few days.

You were wild, and interesting, and you made the transition from the 21st Century to the beginning of the 20th so easy for him that he barely noticed anything different when he was with you. You were like a little drop of home in his week, and he couldn't help the easy flow he’d taken from friendship to something a little flirtier with you, and he liked the way you joked back, cheeks rising with red and jaw dropping when he whispered in your ear and held you in a way that was just a little risky for the time period he had found himself in.

He liked it when you’d dance with him to the music playing, and he liked it when you’d hum along to the songs being sung. He absolutely loved it when you rested your head on his shoulder and let out little sighs of tiredness when they night moved on and you let him hold you a little tighter to keep you on your feet as you waited for your brother or father to be ready to escort you home when they were finished posturing and proving themselves to the other men in the club.

Spring had bled into Summer, into Winter, and your friendship had only become stronger. He had met your father, and your brother, and he was never approving of the scowls they wore when you let out loud and obvious huffs of indignation when you were called over to meet a possible new suitor, or when you were shown off by them as some kind of prize to be won, only to mouth off and prove that you were far more than a pretty face.

You were stubborn, and strong-willed, and you didn’t conform to the stereotypes that your time had laid out. He saw you during the feminist rallies in the town, holding handmade signs high and shouting for equal rights at the top of your lungs, with absolutely no idea that your movement would be something that children would be learning about in their history lessons a century from now, taught by a female teacher with independence and equality, and he watched on proudly each time.

He had met your mother on the days he had been fetching his groceries from the farmer’s markets, rolling your eyes at the older woman as she tried to tell you recipes to remember and tips to make you an agreeable wife that you had downright refused to commit to memory.

Two years passed, and he watched as the new decade was ushered in, everything from the 10’s being swept away as old news as the 20’s came barrelling in, and style from the notorious New York City had taken over. You had a wardrobe full of tasselled dresses that fell around your knees and rode up when you crossed your legs to reveal the softer skin of your thighs, and you had pearl necklaces that fell down into lower necklines, and lips painted red with curled hair, and fuck, Sam really did love the twenties.

He loved going home and finding the print of your red lipstick printed on his cheeks from where you had bid him goodnight each Thursday in the early hours, and he liked the tint your cheeks got as your slightly tipsy form wobbled when you tried to pretend you hadn't been drinking, acting the good girl in the streets to follow the laws of the oncoming prohibition.

Two years in had brought a lot of changes since the night Sam had met you. The prohibition had made the speakeasy an even more lucrative spot to be included within, poker tables and cigars with whiskey glasses clinking below the streets, passers-by completely unknowing as to the activities that were taking place below. It had brought a wealthier crowd, elites and upper-class, only those who could afford to pay for the right to know the password at the door, and your father had only put more pressure on you to find a husband.

You were two years older, moving towards your mid-twenties, and of a prime age to bear a child for whichever man your father chose to give you away to. He was happy with the crowd that the speakeasy brought around, gambling from men with a lot of coin to throw down onto the table and options that would undoubtedly bring a high price for your hand in marriage.

In turn, you were acting out more and more, causing every option your father had found for you to end up turning their nose up and sneering as they muttered about finding a girl who could make them a home and raise a child, never bothering to look at what was underneath, never bother to get to know the incredible person below the surface of a woman to be given away.

You were seen less and less, from every Thursday to one Thursday a month, your father choosing to leave you at home in favour of talking you up in order to confirm a deal before you had a chance to ruin it, and yet Sam attended faithfully every Thursday, just in the hopes of seeing you. Your flame was being dulled, the rallies were quieter without your voice shouting out with the rest, his shopping trips were duller when he couldn't catch sight of your playful faces and rolled eyes as he moved between the stalls near you, and his days were empty without ever getting to catch glances of you, or talk to you late at night after your family had gone to bed and you called him on the telephone attached to his kitchen walls.

Your smile wasn’t as bright, your shoulders were slumped and your fashion sense had reverted back to that of the dresses he knew of mother’s to wear, but he never missed the longing looks you gave to the girls who would flounce about in tassels and pearls and sequins, dancing and singing and having fun, and he hated that you no longer told him excitedly about your day, instead forced to stay by your father or brother’s side as the night progressed on. Each time you were questioned by another man, he got to see a brief glimpse of your slowly drowning personality, his lips flicking up at the sies when he heard your sarcastic and snippy retorts, soon quieted by your father’s growling voice over the top of your own.

That was how Sam had found himself peeking at you from his seat at the table, watching you subtly as you stood off to the edge of the bar with you brother, picking at the uncomfortable edges of your corset dress as you pulled it out each time you wanted to take a deep breath, your eyebrows pinched as a fake smile sat on your cheeks and your hands formed fists as your kept them held in front of you like a lady always should.

Your father was angry, he was talking about the latest tantrum you’d had, having caused such damage to your car by driving when you weren’t permitted to and had no idea how to, that he had to fork out to have it prepared, almost as much as the car had cost him in the first place when he’d won it on an auction, new parts having to be brought in to fix it, and he was fuming, even as he laid down yet another stack of notes onto the table for betting with.

He felt your arrival before he saw you, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as the dragging of your almost floor-length dress between the chairs sounded and your arm brushing his shoulder oh so lightly, the kind of friendly greeting you gave him now, as he was certain your family had forbidden you from being seen with him in fear it would drive away other men. He risked a glance up, your back to hi as you approached your father, but you offered him a fleeting smile when you turned, your eyes meeting his for barely a second before you were facing your father once again, gaze flicking over the lusting gazes of the other men around the table, before clearing your throat.

All you had asked for was another money to buy another drink, but your father having just lost yet another hand and more money, seemed to reach the end of his tether.

“You would ask me for even more money, as though you haven’t already drained me of enough simply by being born into the godforsaken world?” His glare was fixed on you, cold and icy, and your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing on him as you prepared to fight back, but he was already pushing on with such rage that your mouth had snapped shut and your eyes had widened as you swallowed thickly, and Sam felt his own free hand clench into a fist as the cards in his other bent a little from the force at which he was gripping them. “You disappoint me, time and time again by refusing to act like a woman, by failing to find yourself a suitable husband, and now you want to take even more from me?”

“I just wanted a dri-”

“You just want everything, you selfish brat! Be quiet, stand still, and look pretty and let’s just hope that you can do something right for once, and find yourself a husband soon, so that you are no longer my responsibility to care for!” His nostrils were flaring and cheeks heated, face so red he resembled a tomato, and his shouting only came to an end due to being shushed by the owner in fears that he was actually so loud that people above in the streets may hear the commotion.

The room had been deathly silent for almost a minute after, all eye son the little table Sam found himself sitting at, and your head was ducked down from embarrassment, your fingers anxiously tapping at your leg, before the gazes seemed to move on and the band continued with their singing once again, the room taking it’s chatter back up and returning to normal after witnessing such an outburst.

“Your daughter is out of control.”

It was the first word spoken, and Sam’s own angry glare shifted to that of the man two seats down form him, yours and your father’s following, and Sam swore when he turned to look at you, he could see the last bit of yourself breaking within you s you were worn down further and further by the oppressive nature of the men surrounding you.

Floodgates had been opened, and before he knew it, Sam was sitting at a table full of jokes about your chances of never settling down, men picking fun at you and continuing to leer at you, stuck somewhere misogynistic comments about your body being all you were good for, and he felt sick as he watched your father chuckle and comment how he wished one of them would take her off of his hands even if that was all they wanted, and anger swelled within him as each and every one continued to deny that they would ever risk marrying you, fear of your boldness making them reject you, and he couldn't take it anymore, your father’s ramblings about never finding someone to take your hand being the final straw.

You may not have been the picture-perfect wife for any of these men, but you were absolutely perfect in his own. You were loud, and opinionated, and not afraid to argue with your own knowledge and facts when the two of you had debates. You were educated, and well-read, and had a sense of humour to match his own. You liked to adventure, and take risks, and you weren’t afraid to get angry when you needed to be. Your soul wasn’t one that was supposed to be dampened, but should instead be allowed to flourish. You were his best friend, his only real friend, and you were everything that mattered to him in this world, everything he had here with him.

You reminded him of his family and friends that he had lost when choosing to stay, you reminded him of everything he had once dreamed of in a woman, and he refused to let you be lost to the mainstream of dull women who were more like possessions than people, because he would be damned if he let one more comment about how you would never have a truly happy marriage or fulfilled life fly by, just because they were unable to appreciate how truly brilliant you were.

It was derogatory and rude, and borderline verbal abuse as he watched you curl in on yourself more and more with each comment, and he just couldn't take it anymore. Not the unhappy look on your face or the frown on your lips, or the way your eyes were cast downwards because even though you acted strong, he was certain you were breaking a little more with each unkind comment thrown your way.

He slumped a little in his chair, letting out a deep sigh and swirling the glass in his hand a little. “I would marry your daughter in a heartbeat.”

The table fell into a dead silence around him, and he raised the glass up to his lips, holding his face neutral and steady as he looked at his cards, enjoying the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat as he finished off the glass and placed it on the table.

“Can you repeat yourself there, son?”

“I said-” He didn’t intend for his words to come out growled and as menacing as they did, but he couldn't help it, and some of the other men around the table even had the good graciousness to look a little startled at his response. “I would marry your daughter. I think any man would be lucky to call her his wife, so I repeat to you, that when you made a claim that no man would marry your daughter, you were wrong, because I would marry her without hesitation.”

He shuffled the cards in his hands, arranging them better to suit him as he looked at the game, and the man looked positively taken aback, somewhere between horrified and ecstatic, before clearing his throat in a scrabbling attempt to seem dignified. “She has no dowry, and she would not make an agreeable wife.”

His tone read clearly that he was desperate to hand her off to the first bachelor to offer even a shred of willing, and yet with all the other eyes of the gentleman at the table around him, he was trying to hold his respect, unknowing that Sam had absolutely none for him at all, but he liked the pressure your father was now feeling to try and gain the bargain, as though you were a possession to be exchanged.

He took a long moment, finally moving his gaze up to you, his lips flicking up at edges in a hint of a smile to ease your nerves. Your eyes were wide and lips pressed into a thin line, your expression seemingly unreadable, but those creases of worry between your eyebrows were gone and the pinched expression from trying your best to keep your thoughts to yourself had slipped away, despite offering him no reading of how you felt about it all. He could see the way your posture had slumped a little as you relaxed, your palms smoothed out against your sides instead of clenched in fists, and your shoulders were rising and falling in steady rhythms instead of jerky breaths.

“She doesn’t need a dowry, she has more than enough to offer on her own. I don’t need to be bought to want to know her.”

It was another few minutes of rigid and tense silence, whispered comments going around the table between the older men as though they were teenage girls on a schoolyard, before loud and jovial laughter was released from your keeper, his palms slamming down on the surface so forcefully that the table wobbled and poker chips clinked and tumbled from their stacks, but he continued to sit unfazed, staring forwards, as you now looked between himself and your father in shock.

“All me to buy you a drink, and to thank you, despite not knowing why you would take on such an unruly woman.” Your father fished into the leather of his wallet to hand over a few coins to you. “I’ll buy you one final drink, and you can fetch one of the man who is taking responsibility for you.”

You stood stock still for a moment, before setting yourself into jerky movements, stepping away from your father and offering him a quiet ‘thank you’ before making your way to Sam’s side, normally warm and kind eyes peering down at him cautiously and calculating, and he rolled his head back to look at you, trying to give you the most reassuring look you possibly could as he spoke his preference to you, nodding as you stepped away from him and towards the bar, but not before reaching for the empty glass on the table in front of him and taking it with you.

You were quiet the when you returned, barely responding to the thanks he had offered you when you hold your drink out to him, choosing instead to quietly sip at your own gin and stan behind him, one hand rested delicately on his shoulder as you studio behind him, shielding yourself from your father and watching on wordlessly as the men gambled and played cards for a further few hours into the night.

Sam was on a winning streak, a lot of chips sitting before him, stacks of notes and coins sitting in the centre of the table that he had such a large hand out of that he would barely be able to count it, more in one night than he would earn from his little company in over three months, the kind of money that made his gut twist and his head spin, and the game was being called to an end while he was still sitting wealthy, before the inevitable pride of having so many chips got to his head and he lost them all.

As he gathered up the money being split out to him, ignoring the drunken complaints of the men around him and taking his winnings, he knew it would be a while before he was invited back to the tables, and a while before their bruised egos healed over losing such sums to someone so young. He’d been playing since he was about twelve, and he was incredibly good at the game, what could he say?

You were still suspiciously quiet, even when everybody was milling out of the small shop for the night and standing in the cold night air, breath billowing around them in the cold air, and his fingers found your wrist carefully, pulling you aside, your lips still sealed shut as he watched you imploringly shuffle from one foot to another, itching uncomfortably in your corset.

“Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly content! I am to be married, to a respectable man, and I am just grateful that it is someone I know, I am just dandy.” You offered him a forced smile, that to anyone that didn’t know you as well as he did may believe it to be real, but that was the problem. He did know you, and those weren’t your words, or your attitude, and that certainly wasn’t a genuinely happy smile on your behalf. He was prepared to question you on it, to ensure you that it was okay, but your eyes were flicking fearfully over his shoulder, before moving back to his, a slight glisten in them as they narrowed, and he turned his own head to look.

A sigh left his lips, and his jaw snapped shut out of irritation, your father standing only feet away, clearly listening in to the conversation, and Sam let an arm snake around your waist like he had done so many times before, this time trying to shield you from the drunken elder that was looming over the pair of you. “I see you and my daughter are already growing acquainted.”

His eye dropped down in a wink that made Sam’s stomach twist with nausea, and you moved slightly further into his side, a thought that made him preen a little internally, knowing that at least you trusted him, to keep you safe and to try and do right by you.

“She may go home with you, she should know the house she will be living in and maintaining. Tomorrow at noon, we will meet to discuss the details of your wedlock, but I’ll be going home now.” He waved a hand to silence of the pair of you before either of you had even spoken, leaving you to back away from Sam and tremble on your own, both of you watching slack-jawed as he walked away, leaving you both alone in the street.

“Sam..”

He was only torn from his staring of the man’s retreating figure when your voice, lighter and shakier than usual, drifted to his ears and pulled his focus to you. Your face was scrunched up in a scared expression, something he never wanted or see again on your face, and he swallowed thickly before nodding, and setting a hand on your lower back, trying not to startle you as you began to process everything that had happened or you in the last few hours.

The walk was quiet, your feet scuffing the floor, and he spared the occasional glance over at you as he allowed you time to take in all that had occurred. Your face flicked between shocked, to sad, to angry, and back to neutral, keeping every single one of your thoughts locked inside yourself, keeping everything quiet.

The only noises were the occasional brush of your feet beside his on the floor, the drag of you shoes on the stones as you made your way up along the long and winding path to the renovated house he was proud to call his home, and the jingling of the bundle of keys that he pulled from his pocket, your foot tapping anxiously on the ground as he undid the several locks on his front door, before holding the heavy wood out to him.

You had never seen the inside of his home before, it had never been appropriate for him to invite you inside, and now, it was where you were going to live. Maybe he hadn't quite thought this through, but he didn’t have a chance to follow that thought across before the door was closing behind him, our hands clenched by your sides as you watched him bolt them back up for the night, and finally, you snapped.

“What gives you the right, Sam Taylor? To step into my life and decide to take charge, hm?” You barely missed a beat, his brows raising at you, and while he knew all of this anger was entirely directed at him, he was willing to let you get all you pent up rage out of your system, even if it did involve you screaming at him. “I will not be your property, and you should have known me well enough to understand that! I don’t want to be a housewife who cowers in submission! This is the 20th Century and women should have rights, I don’t want to be a chattel for you to use as you please!”

He had to bite his cheek at your phrasing, hearing a girl shout ‘this is the 20th Century’ while talking of rights was something he may never get used to, but he waited until you were huffing out a breath and crossing your arms over your chest, cheeks red and eyes filled with a raging fire. It was a fire he had missed seeing in you, one he wanted to let roar instead of extinguishing, and when he was certain that you had finished, he let out the breath he was holding.

“I don’t want to own you, or force you to be something that you aren’t. You can be whoever you want to be with me. You don’t have to wear these ridiculous corsets that clearly make you uncomfortable, and you don’t have to bite your tongue when you want to speak, and you certainly don’t need to be anything less than a proud and strong woman of the 20th Century.”

His lips flicked up at the edges as he said the words, a very slight smirk on his face, and your entire body seemed to sag out of relief when you looked at him, checking him to see if he was really telling you the truth, and finding that he was.

“I want you to have your freedom, and you always have with me.” You were quiet, but nodding slowly and taking slow and deep breaths, before averting your gaze from his, picking at your nails as you suddenly seemed to find the wooden floors much more interesting than him. Instead, he busied himself with kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat, taking out the stacks of money from his pockets, sifting through it all to count how much he had actually claimed. “How much was your dowry?”

He’d hear you following behind him, neatly taking off your heels and placing them tidily on the shoe rack beside his front door, hanging your thin coat up beside his, but you didn’t speak to him again until he had asked you the question, your throat clearing and voice stumbling over your words in stuttered and broken sounds when you spoke. It was in mumbles, an amount he barely caught before processing the noise you had made and he thought it through. It was almost as much as his winnings, and he made a proud and sure noise in the back of his throat as he pushed the collection of papers and coins across the counter towards where you were idling, your eyes following the pile but you never once moved.

“This is approximately that much, and it’s yours. I don’t want you to feel like you need to rely on me, you can go where you want and do what you please, I’ll just be here if you need me.” He took a tentative step toward you, smiling to himself when you didn't step away from him, before he ducked his head and brushed his lips to your cheek in a soft kiss, bumping the tip of his nose against your temple as he pulled away. “There are two guest rooms, you can choose either that you like, and you can wake me if you need anything. Goodnight, darling.”

It was at least a half-hour before Sam heard the soft knock at his door, and he had been pulling back the several layers of blankets sitting on his bed, the robe he’d been wearing already hung back up, only a pair of pyjama pants were clad on him now, a single candle lantern flickering on either side of the bed.

He had to resist the urge to tell you just how modern you looked when you stepped into the room, smiling at him gently around the door, your feet now bare on the cool wood slats and your legs exposed, all the way up the soft and flimsy shorts he owned, almost swamped by one of the off-white undershirts he often wore for warmth, the sleeves covering your palms.

He offered a smile, taking a seat amongst his pillow and tucking his sheets around himself as you stepped further into the bedroom, the door falling shut behind you with a soft click, and he took a moment to take you in. Your hair was taken out of its up-do from earlier in the day, sitting around your shoulders in loose waves and tangles, marks in the hair form all the pins that had been used to hold it up, and your skin was cleaned of eyeliner and red lipstick, looking far more domestic than he’d ever had the privilege of seeing you in before.

“You know, you are just terrible at doing your washing. I think this shirt and this pair of shorts may have been the only clean items in that basket that were also dry.” Your joke was immediately enough to break the tension, and he huffed out a laugh, settling back a little further and slumping down into his pillows.

“I’ve never been any good at my washing, I just accept it however it turns out.” You made your way across the room to him, standing by the side of his bed and avoiding his eye as you instead took a few moments to take in the simple detailing of his bedroom. There was nothing judgemental about your look, instead, you were simply observing, committing it to memory, before your gaze was flicking to the patch on his top blanket that he picked at anxiously, loose threads hanging from it.

“You don’t know how to sew, either?”

“I always poke my fingers with the needles, and it always turns out a mess. When it gets bad enough, I will just buy a new one.” That answer made you frown, and you took a seat on the edge of the bed beside his legs, dropping your hands down into your lap and staring at you bundled fists intently.

“I may not be as much a lady as men would like, but I do know how to do stitch, and wash clothes. I can also cook and clean.” Your shoulders sagged a little, but the smile you offered him may have been small, but it was at least genuine, he could tell from the honest way you met his eyes as you did, exposing your soul to him easily. “I’ll try my hardest to be a good wife for you, Sam.”

He slipped his hand across the sheet, resting a large hand over your smaller one, and squeezing reassuringly, causing you to look up from your lap and hold his gaze. “I don’t want you to be what you think everyone else wants, I want you to be you. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s cook. I’m good at that, I make a very good meal out of very little, my mother taught me.”

“But, it’s my job t-”

“It’s not your job to do anything that you don’t want to. We can split the jobs between us.”

You stared at him, for a good few minutes, and he almost felt himself shrinking under your stare, before you were getting to your feet and smoothing out the creases on the bed sheets where you had been sitting. He thought you would leave, that you would be moving away from him and back out into the corridor, but instead, you were rounding the bed and lifting the sheets carefully, settling yourself beside him and moving away from the edge of the bed, closer to the warmth his body provided. “Is this okay?”

“This is okay.” He nodded at you dumbly, watching as you fluffed your pillows and blew out the lantern on your side of the bedroom, the smell of wet candle wax and smoke filling the air as only the one flickering candle kept he room alight, a soft glow that left only this section of the room illuminated, almost everything else cast into darkness.

“I like to make clothes, so I don’t mind doing your sewing too, you don’t have to buy new garments each time they tear. I also like gardening, I noticed that your front garden didn’t have many flowers, and it was rather untidy.”

“You can do anything you want with the gardens, I think anything would be an improvement.”

“Can I plant flowers?” You were looking up at him through your lashes, anticipation clear on your features, and he grinned, lifting a hand to tuck some hair back behind your ear and cup your jaw, running his thumb over your cheekbone tenderly.

“You can do anything you want with the gardens.” You were happy now, he could feel it in the way you leaned into his touch a little, before you were moving onto your side to face him, and he simply rested both of his hands on his stomach, linking his fingers together and waiting for more of your questions.

“Do I have to wear corsets?”

“No.”

“Do I have to clean for you?”

“No, we’ll share the cleaning.”

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?”

He paused, looking at you and swallowing the lump in his throat, before nodding at you and trying to relax from the way his body had stiffened. “If you’d like to.”

“I would.”

You shuffled a little closer, taking one of his hands in yours and moving it away, before linking your own fingers with his instead, resting your body down beside him on the mattress and pressing your head against his pillow, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as your body pressed up to his side, and your heartbeat began to match his as it thumped against your chest, pressed or his ribs.

He liked it, and he could get used to the feeling of having your body pressed up beside his in the bed, keeping him warm in the winter, and giving him the company he had missed for so long. You were his best friend, one of the best friends he’d ever had - in either era - and the thought of getting to have you by his side in any way, was more than enough to make him happy.

He didn’t care what became of your relationships, he had done what he did in order to liberate you from the oppressive nature of your father, to help you find freedom and live the life you wanted while being happy.

If he got to leave his family to gain the life he wanted and live happily, then you deserved the same, and he would do anything to make it happen.

He was just reaching for the little cup to extinguish the candle when your hand caught his wrist, pausing his actions and bringing his hand back toward you, your body sitting up once again, and he waited, your jaw opening and closing as you tried to find your words. You faced him more fully, sitting up and letting the sheets fall away, shuffling toward him until your knees were brushing his leg, and he sat himself up a little further, confusion beginning to seep into him as he took in the nervous expression on your face.

“May I ask you to do something for me?” He offered a silent form of his affirmation, and you moved a little closer, shaking hands coming up to hold onto his cheeks. “Nobody has ever kissed me before, and if we’re going to be married, you will be the only person who ever has. I would like to know what that feels like.”

“You want me to kiss you?” This time, it was your turn to give a silent form of understanding, nodding you consent to him and his lips tilted up at the corners. “You’re sure you want that?”

“Sam, I’ve always found you attractive, but tonight you sacrificed everything just to make me happy, and you are like no man I have ever met. I would very much like for you to kiss me.” You were nervous, colour crawling up your cheeks, and he licked over his lips, feeling his own skin heat up as he watched you. Your eyes were wide, lips a little parted and face flushed a charming colour, and in this minute you looked so pretty that Sam swore you may be the angelic woman he’d ever seen.

Placing a hand on the bed beside you, he leaned over, lowering himself down until he could drag the tip of his nose across yours, your breath washing over his lips with each small and shallow breath you let out, your eyes fluttering closed and lashes brushing his skin as he copied the motion. Your forehead was pressed to his, so close now that he could taste the gin still lingering on your lips, and with that, he closed the distance between you both.

Softly at first, his mouth pressed to your own, lips sealed in a sweet peck, and he felt the intake of breath you took in a gasp through your nose, before he was dragging his lips with your own in delicate patterns, feeling you press back with hesitation, unsure in your movements but eager to learn, and your hands fell away, one slipping into his hair as the other came down to press to his chest, and you were kneeling up into him.

He wasn’t sure what had happened, or when. He had been intending to keep the kiss brief and chaste, never wanting to push you on anything, but it wasn’t until his back met the bed again and his head was pressing into the pillows that he realised you were now kneeling over him, a leg on either side of his lap and his hands on your waist.

You were letting out little whimpers into his mouth each time the kiss grew a little messier, his lips parting a little further and his tongue flicking out a little more frequently to tease at the seam of your lips, but then your tongue was daring to peek out to play with his own, and he couldn't hold back the deep groan he let out as your tongue dragged across his. The grip he held on your hips only tightened, and your body fell down to press further into his, you nails scraping against his scalp.

“Sam, thank you.” You pressed your lips back to his own, frantic and needy and each time you came back in it was making the heat in the room rise, his palms slipping down to grip at your thighs before he knew what he was doing, but then your hips were rolling down into his, and he was bucking up to press against you, anything to draw out the squeaky little moans and sighs of pleasure you let out into his mouth every time your clit dragged over the growing bulge in his pants. “You saved me, thank you, so much.”

“I just wanted you to be happy.”

You hummed against his lips, rocking down into his hips particularly harshly, both you and him letting out drawn out sounds of pleasure at the feeling, and he had to bite down on his own lip when you pulled back just to stop himself from flipping you over and pressing you down into the mattress. “I am happy with you. You make me happy.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” Your hands were pressing to his chest, your hips rocking down into his, and his eyes fluttered shut as you rode up and down over his cock, even through the layers of clothing, and he let out a weak and breathless laugh when a thought about the situation crossed his hazy mind. “You know, this isn’t very gentlemanly of me. We've only been engaged for a couple of hours. What would people say?”

“I don’t care what people say, it feels good.” You whimpered, pushing down firmly and he cursed under his breath, jutting his hips up into you and smirking at the face you made, your jaw dropping down and forming an ‘o’ as silent pleasure left you. He watched you bounce above him, hair framing away behind you as your head tipped back, and he took the chance of your distraction to flip you over, pressing you back oot your side of the bed and caging you in with a hand on either side of your head. “I want to feel good, Sam.”

“I can make you feel good.”

You nodded fervently, and he dragged a hand down over the bare skin of your midriff from where the shirt of his that you were had ridden up, and he dipped his head down to press his lips to your own, catching you in a sweet kiss that made you hum happily at the affections, pressing back just as lovingly.

The tips of his fingers dipped underneath the loose waistband of the shorts you wore, finding that there was no buried the further down he travelled, and he let out a ragged sound against your mouth upon realising that you had discarded of your one underwear when changing into his clothes. The idea of your dripping cunt brushing straight up against his clothes, the idea of you wearing only his belongings to clever yourself, the image of you walking around with him on a lazy Sunday morning and wearing just one of his tops, it was all everything that he wanted with you.

The pads of his fingers brushed over your clit, your hips jerking up into his hand as you cried out at the simple pressure, and he took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth to play with your own, a finger swirled through the wetness that had built between your folds, and he growled into your mouth, nipping on your lower lip until you let out a whine, before sucking at it and licking over the patch to soothe the low sting, distracting you as he pushed a single finger into your dripping core, and your eyes shot open, body going stiff at the intrusion.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“It feels weird, but good, I’m not really sure.” He nodded, peppering your cheeks with kisses and he moved the finger within you slowly, twisting and stretching you out as carefully as he could, and soon your slick was coating that digit and flowing form you each time he pulled out, your juices covering your skin and making it easy for him to slip another finger into you. It was a stretch, and he felt you tense up once again as your eyes screwed shut, but he worked you through it, slow and steady, kissing along you jaw and mumbling reassurances into your ear.

He felt you loosen up, your legs widening for him to settle between and your lips found his again as you let out a happy sigh. A loud and unashamed cry of his name left you, and it may have been the sweetest sound Sam had ever had the pleasure of hearing, you walls clenching around his fingers and hips bucking up, before a sharper and louder sound fell from you. It was almost a scream, and he smirked into your mouth, his whisperings turning to praises as he tried to find that spot again, only a few strokes and he had located the spot, rubbing it surely each time he thrust his finger back into your wet core.

“That’s so good, what is that?”

“Mh, that’s your g-spot, sweetheart, and now that I know where it is, I know exactly how to make you feel good.” He pushed down on the spot roughly, your body trembling as your eyes rolled back and your fingers twisted in the sheets. The material of the shorts was rubbing uncomfortably against his wrist, and he wished he could see his soaked fingers sipping in and out of you greedy hole each time, but for now, this was enough, just watching you reach heights of pleasure you’d never been to before and knowing he was the one taking you there was making his heart race and head spin. “You’re so good for me, honey, so good.”

He was cooing down at you, mouthing at your jaw and neck and licking over your skin in ways that made you squirm and moan, your walls tight around his fingers as you neared your peak. He felt it coming, and slipped his thumb up to toy idly with you neglected clit as an unspoken encouragement to cum, that it was okay for you to let go, and so you did.

Your back arched up, something that almost sounded like a sob leaving you as you core clamped down around the two digits, so tights he could barely get his fingers in and out of you anymore, and he settled for wiggling them and twisting them as he prolonged your peak, choosing to drag it out as long as he could for you. You were panting, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat from the exertion and your chest rose and fell with every gasping breath you took.

He lifted his fingers up to his lips, sitting back on his heels and sucking them into his mouth to clean them, letting out an approving sound as your taste washed over his tongue, addictive and sweet, something he knew he would be craving more of soon, and he just hoped you’d let him.

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t even know. That was amazing.” He beamed, feeling full and prideful as he listened to you talk, and he settled your shorts and top back into the correct place, laying over you and propping himself up on his arms as not to crush you, brushing hair from your face and pecking your nose. “Do you need me to..”

Your gaze left his eyes, moving down to his hips, before coming back up, and you were nibbling on your lower lip, prompting him to duck his head and chuckle, kissing along the clothed shoulder that was within his reach. “No, I don’t. This was about you, there will be a whole lifetime for that.”

“Yes. Yes, there will be.” Your words were spoken with nothing but joy, and he rolled off of you, blowing out the candle and sending the room into darkness, before wiggling himself back under the blankets and making sure you were tucked in securely. He felt you shuffle up, pressing against his side and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling your nose nuzzle into the crook of his neck, his cheek brushing the top of your head when he twisted his body further toward you. “Why are you like no man I have ever met, Sam Taylor?”

A laugh bubbled in his chest, despite the yawn he let out only seconds later, and he rubbed a large hand up and down your back, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness. “You won’t believe the story I’ll tell you over breakfast in the morning.”

“M’kay.” The response was muffled as it was mumbled into his neck, and he barely caught it, choosing instead to soothe himself with the tangle of your legs with his and the steady thumb of your heart in time with his own, the two of you drifting off with only positive thoughts of the future you would soon be sharing to still linger on your mind.

#sam taylor #sam taylor amazing stories #dylan obrien sam taylor #sam taylor x reader #sam taylor x reader smut #sam taylor/reader #sam taylor/reader smut #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien au #dylan obrien/reader smut

195 notes · View notes

itslieutenanthawkeye · 3 years

Text

A Knight’s Oath

Day 6 of Jeankasa Week 2021: Royal AU

AO3

Sir Kirstein aids the princess of Hizuru escape a coup d’état organized by the marleyan Jaeger brothers.

There isn’t one inch of my body that isn’t yelling this is wrong, not one bit that isn’t shouting at me to return, to go back to my chambers, cover my ears with both hands and ignore that letter until the signal comes from within the palace. I came here to do a job: become her close guard, infiltrate the institution, take down the royal line.

That one job could have me swimming in silver. One job would be enough to buy myself that lifestyle I can only dream about. One job, and I could leave knighthood behind, buy myself a castle, a royal title and a woo wife to go with it. A pretty young wife with dark hair and big eyes and a whole army of servants to fulfill our every wish.

And yet here I am, walking with more purpose than ever before in my life, heading towards her.

Like most upper class Hizuran structures, the Azumabito royal palace is built atop a tall stone base. It’s an intricate maze of buildings, rooms and sliding doors that I’ve spent two years memorizing. I should know, better than anyone, how hard it’ll be for us to sneak out. Even if we do it without anyone being aware, even if nobody knows what the princess has found out.

“Jean, over here.” her voice calls from behind one of the doors. I follow like a bee searching honey. I enter the place where she’s been waiting for me and encounter her wearing the peasant clothes I procured for her a couple of days ago. She’s as lovely in them as she was the first time I saw her, sitting atop a high throne next to the regent, Kiyomi Azumabito, wearing a wonderful kimono of red fabric and golden threads.

Her mother, a pure-blooded Azumabito royal, fell in love with an eldian man, and in the process of marrying him, she also fell into disgrace and was expelled from the balance years before conceiving the princess. After a wave of plague that caused the death of the shogun and his closest relatives, however, Kiyomi had sent a contingent to bring back the princess’ mother to serve as regent until the princess came of age.

Stories say Kiyomi found a ten-year-old princess orphaned, living of scraps she found in the field near her home. Her parents were also killed by the plague. Some people say they starved, some others that they were murdered. However they died, the princess came back to the ancestral home of the Azumabito alone and Kiyomi took her into her care. Even I am aware of the love the woman has for her adoptive daughter, how much she cares for her safety.

It was her the first to find out about Marley’s plans to overthrow Hizuru’s royal line, of the spies sent by Marley in the shape of knights for Hizuru’s princess. It was Kiyomi who came to me, asking for help for the princess. She knew my involvement in Marley’s plans gave me a lot more intel than any other servant could’ve collected…and because she saw the way I looked at the princess that day our delegation arrived, two days ago, and how I’ve seen her every day since. She figured out quickly how much affection I carry for the princess and knew, barely one year after my arrival, that I would never leave her adoptive daughter behind.

“Are you ready?” I ask, putting on the peasant clothes, hiding the katana Kiyomi left in my room in the folds of my own hizuran clothes. “Your highness, are you ready?”

“I don’t want to leave.” She says; she’s turned away from me, giving me what little privacy she can while I change. “I can’t leave Kiyomi. I can’t leave the people of the palace behind.”

“Many of your servants are traitors, princess,” I remind her, tapping on her shoulder to indicate I’m decent again. A slight tremble travels her back and I curse myself; I’d forgotten how reserved hizuran people are when it comes to physical touch.

She turns around and faces me, resolution clear on her face. “Traitors or not, a ruler owes herself to her people,” she says, more dignified than any other royal I ever saw in Marley. “Traitors or not, I cannot leave them alone. And Kiyomi—”

“You heard their plans, princess,” I say, wondering how many times I’ll have to repeat the same thing to get her to forget that commitment to the people the Azumabito care so much about. “The moment the clock hits twelve, the guards will be at your doors. Zeke plans on executing you at dawn, on the morning of your eighteenth birthday. It’s either that or be forced into marrying his brother.”

“And I must let Kiyomi’s head hang just for the sake of escaping?”

“Mikasa,” I say; using her name feels strange. It’s a lovely name, but also forbidden. No knight is allowed to address the princess by her name, nor try to give her orders, let alone try to convince her to follow a plan she doesn’t agree with. The princess widens her eyes in brief shock, but nods, inviting me to continue. “You’re the last of your line. Kiyomi is willing to sacrifice her life for you.”

The princess lowers her head. “I can’t leave her.”

“If you can’t respect her wishes, at least do it out of pity for me,” I say, in a last attempt to get her moving. Time is slipping away from us, and Eren’s retinue must be making its way across the mountain roads already. “I’ve given up everything by just being here. If you stay, I hang with you, dishonored, tortured first.”

The princess looks up at me, her eyes stone-cold. “You came here under false pretenses, betraying mefirst. And now you’ve betrayed your country by being here. How can I be sure you won’t betray me again?”

Ah, how can I assure her without looking like a lovesick fool?

“I’ve served your palace for two years now, haven’t I?” I say. Mikasa nods, her gaze softening somewhat. In an act of boldness, or perhaps a leap of faith, I take a hold of her hands and fall to my knees. “I’m well acquainted with you now, princess, I cannot bring myself to leave you behind or betray you even if I should wish it.”

“Why, though, Jean?” she asks, and the mention of my name from her lips wraps me up like a warm blanket. Suddenly I remember again why I don’t care about the lost wealth, about that castle and title, about the group of nameless women I could’ve wooed into marriage. It’s her. Just her.

“Because you deserve to live. A great leader deserves to live,” I reply, bringing the back of her hands to my lips. I graze them briefly; a royal courtesy from Marley, never performed hereabouts. Royalty in Hizuru barely touches each other, and I can feel her trembling at the mere touch of lips against her hand. “I mean it when I say I won’t betray you, princess. I’m devoted to you as I haven’t been devoted to anything in my life. All I can hope for is that you believe me.”

“I believe you, Jean,” she says after a moment of quiet introspection. “I’m not sure why, but your face always seemed honest. From day one, even when you were scheming against me.”

I can’t help but to smile. “I’m willing to use my whole life to convince you I’m no longer scheming.” I say, standing to face her, holding her hand still. “Are you ready, princess?”

A sad smile adorns her face as she nods, and I’m forced to not focus too much on her face as we sneak out of the castle. Apart from being well-educated, she’s been trained extensively in martial arts and acrobatics, so sliding across the various rooftops of the palace and jumping from one terrace to another proves an easy task for her. She looks back at me at a point, her pale face illuminated by the moonlight, and I manage to give her a tight, ridiculous smile in encouragement.

I’ve seen plenty of women before, but she is by far the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever witnessed. But her beauty is just one of the things that have drawn me to betray my homeland’s coup d’état against Hizuru. I met her when she was sixteen, and I nineteen; these two years, I’ve seen her grow into a fair, kind ruler, one that cares more about the wellbeing of her subjects than the wealth of the family mines or the expansion of her land.

At seventeen, she convinced the council to abolish arranged marriages for women, recognize divorces requested by wives as legal, increase taxes for royals and establish a free education system for the entire country. I know she had in mind to establish free healthcare within her fifteen-year plan. All in all, she is a great leader.

Then there’s the fact that she’s extremely good at sparring. And I’ve always had a soft spot for women that are good with swords, especially women who can beat me in a fight.

I guess, in a way, spending my days with her, being with her…it all makes me want to be better. Before Hizuru, before the princess, all I thought about was ways of getting a comfortable life. My whole childhood, I’d spent it scamming people. Then knighthood had seemed a good way to find myself a relatively wealthy wife or become rich by taking down a king, or by plundering a town.

Just being by her side makes me a better man.

I want to keep being that better man.

I also want to keep seeing that pretty face of hers. I want to keep hearing her rants. I want to keep sharing my thoughts with her. I just want to be with her.

___________________________

Hizuru’s capital is surrounded by tall mountains. It’s thanks to my military training that I know which rivers the Jaeger brothers will use to invade the city, and which ones will give us safe passage to the sea, where a boat provided by the queen of Paradis Island awaits. Hizuru is a large nation, however, and the possibilities of our escape plan going sour are high. Still, I cannot let any of my insecurities show on my face. I took it upon my shoulders to protect the princess, to take her to her new home to keep her from being executed, forced into marriage, or tortured to death by the royals who had aided the Jaeger brothers conspire against the Azumabito.

By the time the sun begins to climb the mountains, we are miles away from the capital. And yet, we can hear the execution bells ring across the watch towers. Heads are starting to roll in the palace, the bells across the Hizuran Mountain Pass tell us, and one of them must be Kiyomi’s. Mikasa sits next to me on the motorboat, crying into her sleeves, leaning slightly against my arm.

“I’m sorry.” I manage to muster. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

She shakes her head, not looking at me. “Why did your people do this to us?”

I say the first few words that come into my mind. “Greed…I’ve never interacted much with the Jaeger brothers, but I know that the eldest wants power, and the mines in Hizuru are too rich to ignore. And the youngest cannot stand monarchies. He says people in them aren’t free.”

“Why decide to impose a dictatorship instead? What kind of hypocrisy is that?” she asks, although it’s clear she doesn’t expect me to answer her. “Why kill the council members? Kill Kiyomi? Our people are happy, and I wanted to work to make their lives better. I really wanted to. Why invade a foreign land that has rightful rulers with the excuse of freedom?”

“I wish I could explain it all,” I say, and the sight of the tear streaks on her face turns me into a rambling idiot. “I’m sorry, princess. I’m sorry I was with them. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to stop them. I’m sorry I came into your palace with—”

“You’ve already said you’ll spend your whole life making it up to me, won’t you? It is a promise, isn’t it?” the princess replies, and something inside me tells me she might be too tired to hear my apologies. She took the news of my original plan badly and stopped talking to me for a whole week, not being able to just look at me in the eyes, with fair reason. We spent so many days together with me as her guard, we became friends over those long nights of study, our few sneaky expeditions outside the palace, the times when I brought her street food for dinner in our chambers, the times when she’d sung for me and Kiyomi from behind a white canvas…

All those memories of friendship are stained now, covered with the mark of my initial plan to help the Jaeger brothers with their coup d’état. “I mean to fulfill that promise, princess,” I say, more convinced than I thought I would. “I’ll do anything to redeem myself from the initial betrayal.”

“What if I ask you to raise an army for me?” she asks, wiping the tears off her eyes with the back of her hand. “What if I say that you will prove you’ve redeemed yourself once you help me gain my throne back?”

Her face has acquired that solemn expression she uses whenever she addresses the council. And, like the council members, I cannot bring myself to say no to her. “I-I will try my best, princess. I do not have any influence, and I’ve no money to offer. But I will raise you an army, I will do my best.”

“Do you promise?”

“I could swear on my knight’s honor, princess, but you and I know I don’t have any. I’m a traitor to you and to my own homeland, remember?” I admit with an awkward smile, scratching the back of my head. “I’m lucky enough as it is that you trusted me enough to come with me.”

Mikasa smiles, then wraps my hand with both of hers. “There is one way you can assure me.” she says, her eyes not meeting mine. The sunlight is bathing us both; we’ll enter the lowlands soon, and speed will be of essence to avoid getting captured. Perhaps my concern for speed is what keeps me from realizing her face is dangerously near mine for the first couple of moments.

“What way?” I manage to stammer.

“An oath on your soul,” she explains. “It’s not a thing we do often here, though.”

“Is it like a blood oath?”

The princess shakes her head. “It’s something a bit deeper than that.”

I swallow hard, wondering if she’s going to force me to cut my finger off, or something worse. I don’t have any gripes if that’s what it takes to convince her I would fight to gain her trust back, but I can’t help being concerned about the health implications of cutting a finger off in the middle of a river.

“I’m not going to ask you to cut a finger off, Jean,” she half-sobs, half-laughs, guessing my thoughts. “It’s nothing as ghastly as that.”

“From the way you’re talking, it seems like a big deal.”

A soft blush travels her cheeks. “It is,” she says. “It’s a soul promise. We don’t touch each other here, not after you’ve left childhood behind. Let alone if you’re from a royal family. These oaths only happen behind closed doors, or at weddings.”

“What kind of oath is it, princess?”

“Kiss,” she says, closing her eyes. “You close the oath with a kiss, and your soul is bound to that person.”

“A k-kiss?” I manage to say, realizing at last how close she is sitting to me. If I must be honest, for the most part during my first year on the job, I paid little attention to hizuran traditions. It wasn’t until she started talking to me more that I began to care for the country I was hired to take down. And despite paying more attention to the country she loves so much, I have never heard of such an oath. Could it be that she just wants to feel someone else’s skin on hers?

A smirk appears on my face, and she seems to guess what thoughts are going through my head. She withdraws from me, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “It’s not like I want to!” she says, her cheeks burning red, her murderous expression only increasing my smile. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“I’m sorry!” I say, coughing to clear my throat. Her hands are still holding mine. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you, princess. Please, tell me about this oath.”

“No.” Mikasa replies, shaking her head. “You are clearly not mature enough for it.”

“Please, princess.” I say, and she gives me a serious glance before sighing in defeat.

“If you do it, it’ll be important. You cannot back away from this; you must fulfill it even if it takes your life. Your promise will be bound to your soul; and your soul is bound to me.” Mikasa hunches her shoulders and exhales, her eyes set on the mountains we’re leaving behind, her eyes longing for the warmth of the castle, the voice of her caretaker.

Her home crumbled in the lapse of a few hours; all her friends in the palace, her adoptive mother, the members of the council that cared for her…they’re all dead by now, or tortured, perhaps, to get information on her whereabouts. Kiyomi is probably getting the worst of all. And that’s when it hits me: I’m all she’s got left. Me, one of the knights sent to infiltrate her palace, gain their trust, and stab them in the back.

What a grim scenario that is.

“Princess, please look at me,” I say. She turns to face me, and my lips press against hers for a couple of seconds. When we part, her eyes are as wide as plates. “I promise I will not fail you.”

She nods, her hands clutching mine, her cheeks tinted pink. “Thank you.”

I let go of her hands and wrap her face with both of mine. Then, I press my lips against hers. This time, when we part, her eyes are closed. “I promise I am bound to you, blood, bone and soul.” I say, then kiss her again, a little longer this time. “I promise I won’t rest until you get your throne back.”

She smiles at me. “You’re splitting your soul into a lot of little pieces there.”

I kiss her again, and this time her lips move against mine, her arms wrap around my shoulders. Many times these two years I dreamed about kissing her –no, I’ve imagined doing a lot more with her, if I must be honest. But it was all fantasies, half-built while I looked after her during royal events, while I guarded her in her sleep, while we had our quiet dinners.

“I swear, my princess,” I say as we come apart once more, grazing her cheek with the back of my hand. “I swear my soul, heart and body are yours, from now until I the day I’m ripped from you.”

“That sounds a lot like a wedding vow.” She points out, holding my hand in place against her face.

I smile. “I’m sorry, princess.”

“Don’t be, please,” she says, then places a quick kiss on my fingers. “You can call me by my name from now on, you know. I’m not a princess anymore.”

“You’re always a princess, though.”

She shakes her head. “You and I are fugitives,” she says, setting her eyes on the mountains again, a fire burning bright behind the grey curtain of her eyes. She wants revenge; she wants to gain her throne, her homeland, back, and rain fire upon the ones who dared to lift a finger against Hizuru.

And all I want, I realize with a bit of embarrassment, is to keep her safe, stay by her side.

“I’ll raise an army for you, Mikasa.”

“We’ll raise it together. I believe in your oath,” she assures me, leaning forward to press her lips against mine for a long moment. “And I swear to you that when I get my throne back, I will give you all the lands and wealth you desire.”

“I could do without all that.” I say, shrugging, eliciting the first smile I’ve seen from her in a while.

I want to protect that smile, I think as our boat picks up speed. We’ll enter the lowlands in a couple of miles, and it’ll be a race to get to the ocean. The island is the only safe option for the princess now; the only safe place for the both of us. Despite my oath to her, all my mind can think of is a peaceful life with her. No luxuries, no armies, no grand schemes for power. Just the princess and I, sharing our lives in a quiet cottage by a river, hidden away from the world on Paradis Island.

It’s a fool’s dream, I know.

“I’ll keep you safe.” I assure her, giving her hand a little squeeze, hoping this isn’t too much touching for someone like her.

To my surprise, she squeezes my hand in return. “And I’ll keep you safe.”

#Jeankasa #Jean x Mikasa #JeanMika #Jean Kirstein #Mikasa Ackerman #JeankasaWeek2021 #Jeankasa Week 2021 #Royal AU #AU fanfic #fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfic

11 notes · View notes

detectiveinchicago · 4 years

Text

Sparks Fly: Chapter 11

Chapters list here

Note: Hi guys! I’m back, yesterday I was inspired so I wrote this chapter. Thank u for all the comments and reviews, you are amazing. If you want to be tag in this story please let me know. English is not my first language. Enjoy xxx.

DISCLAIMER: GIF IS NOT MINE.

WARNING: Bad language, PTSD and sex. A LOT OF SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER.

After a few hours she signed the discharged papers and start changing her clothes. The shoulder was killing her, but she didn’t want to abuse the pain relievers Dr. Marcel had given her. They had given her a sling however Marcel clarified that if he did not move his shoulder too much, she would not need to use it all the time. Will was going to take her to Molly’s after finishing his shift. She had met some of her brother’s coworkers, all of whom were kind enough not to ask too much, although Caitlyn could tell that they all had questions.

Caitlyn was talking to Maggie, the nurse was scheduling her next check-ups when her brother approached them both ready to go. One bad thing about injuring the shoulder was that she couldn’t drive, she was going to need a driver for the next few weeks if she ever left the house.

“Are you okay with going to Molly’s?” Will asked as she drove.

“Yes, the boys are going to before they go back to New York” Caitlyn commented looking out the window.

“And when will you come back?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I have to come back to Chicago Med so Dr. Marcel can check my shoulder and after that, I guess I will pack everything” Caitlyn replied turning to see him “You can always come to visit me”

“When? I hardly have time to see Jay in my free time, if I have free time” Will commented.

“I know,” said Caitlyn “I don’t take holiday either, but we’ll make it work”

“I don’t want you to go,” Will said “Now that you’re back”

“I don’t want to leave either but my life is in New York, Will” Caitlyn replied “I’ll visit you again”

“Nothing to make up for lost years?” Will asked.

“Why recover years? We both made mistakes Will and we have to leave them in the past” she commented while her brother parked the car “I don’t hold a grudge Will, I know you did what you could”

Will looked at her and smirked, “Then we’ll make it work”.

“Nice place” Caitlyn commented as they walked towards Molly’s.

“The owner is a firefighter” Will informed her.

“And he also owns a bar?” she asked raising her eyebrows.

“In his spare time, Herrmann is a good guy” Will replied opening the door for her.

“Here you bring your dates?” Caitlyn asked “The place is very cozy but it has many people”

“First, no, and number two I won’t talk about my love life with you” Will replied.

“Don’t worry, I already have a good idea” Caitlyn informed him rolling her eyes.

“Will, how are you?” asked a girl with a hair full of curlers when they approached the bar.

“Hi Stella, this is Caitlyn, my sister” Will introduced her to the girl.

The girl named Stella raised her eyebrows “I didn’t know you had a sister”

“I get that response a lot lately” Caitlyn replied rolling her eyes “I live in New York”

“Oh, are you part of the team?” she asked pointing to the table where her coworkers were “What happened to your shoulder?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you if you pour me a coke” Caitlyn replied raising her eyebrows.

“No beer?” Stella asked raising her eyebrows too.

“I’m with painkillers” Caitlyn explained.

“Deal done girl, I’ll go get something for you” Stella replied “Will? The usual?”

“Yes, I am going to greet some acquaintances, ok?” Will told his sister

“Will, I’m a big girl, I think I can take care of myself” Caitlyn replied rolling her eyes.

“Well, just don’t drink any cocktails Herrmann offers you,” Will told her “What is more, drink nothing because you can’t” he added before disappearing leaving Caitlyn in doubt about Herrmann cocktails.

“Herrmann has the habit of preparing powerful drinks” explained a blonde girl who was sitting next to her “I’m Silvie”

“Caitlyn” she replied shaking her hand, “Nice to meet you”

“I heard you are Will and Jay’s sister” Silvie commented.

“Yes, I would like to say that I have nothing to do with them but sadly I can’t” Caitlyn replied rolling her eyes.

“What brought you to Chicago?” Silvie asked as Stella handed them their drinks.

“Work, I’m FBI” Caitlyn said taking a sip of soda “I came to investigate the serial killer case”

“Heard you caught him” Stella mentioned.

“Yes, my shoulder is a witness” Caitlyn replied pointing to her shoulder, “He stabbed me, are you firefighters?”

“Stella is a firefighter, I’m a paramedic” Silvie explained.

Caitlyn nodded “I like the bar”

“Molly’s is a shelter” Silvie informed him “The police, the firemen, the paramedics, they are always around”

“It has a friendly atmosphere” Caitlyn agreed.

“Who is the girl praising my bar so much?” asked a man approaching them.

“Caitlyn, this is Herrmann, Herrmann, this is Caitlyn, Will and Jay’s sister” Stella introduced them

“Nice to meet you, nice place, we don’t have things like that in New York” Caitlyn praised.

“It’s Chicago magic, girl” Herrmann replied.

Caitlyn had lived in Chicago for a long time and she could describe that city but she wasn’t sure she loved the city enough to say it was “magical”, it was probably the product of poor memories the city gave her. She saw Sheryll signal her and apologized to the firefighters for reaching out to her coworkers.

“How you feel?” Sheryll asked her when she approached.

“It hurts but I’m fine, I’m a little sleepy anyway” Caitlyn replied sitting next to her.

“Sleepy? You slept a whole day” Hanna told him.

Caitlyn shook her head. “Feel like I’ve been run over when do you fly back to New York?”

“Tomorrow” said O.A “What about you?”

“I still have to go to Chicago Med for a checkup this week” Caitlyn replied.

After that Sheryll, Hanna, and O.A fell into a conversation that Caitlyn wasn’t paying much attention to, to be honest. Instead, she was looking at another table where Jess, Clinton and Kenny were standing alongside whom Caitlyn recognized as some members of the Intelligence Unit. Kenny looked good. He was laughing at something Clinton had said. Caitlyn could swear she could hear his laugh from there, he looked happy and Kenny happy was Caitlyn’s favorite Kenny.

Their last time of marriage, when they were still together, had been heartbreaking and painful, so seeing him smile was something that made her smile too. Kenny was a fun person with his friends. Usually, he used to have a facade of seriousness and solemnity around him but Caitlyn was glad to know that he had at least smiled again.

Kenny was angry with her, Caitlyn understood, she had left him when he needed support with PTSD, but she did not regret it. Despite everything, he would continue to do it because that was how he had finally accepted that he needed help and that he could not do everything alone. The best thing had been that she left. And it had hurt, the first time it had hurt like hell, but therapy had helped her to feel better little by little and to overcome some unfinished problems that she had from her time in Chicago.

Caitlyn didn’t want to admit it but seeing Kenny again brought back memories, good and bad but memories at last. She just wished things had been different, that they just had more time or met at a different time. Caitlyn was too concerned not to repeat patterns she left looking back all the time and what might have become of them.

“Guys, I think I’m going to retire for today” Caitlyn commented putting aside her thoughts. Her friends protested, but Caitlyn promised they would have a drink when they got back to New York. She grabbed her coat and thanked Stella for the drink before leaving. Since her brother had given her a ride, Caitlyn should call an Uber but decided she was going to walk, it was summer and she liked to exercise. She carefully draped her jacket over her injured shoulder when she saw Jay leaning against her truck.

“When were you going to tell me you were married?” her brother asked her.

“I didn’t think it was your business” Caitlyn told him.

“At least you could mention it” Jay added.

“Before or after you judged me without reason?” Caitlyn responded wryly, “Or maybe after you stopped talking?”

“I expected more from you, Caitlyn” Jay replied.

“I’m sorry if you are disappointed by me and I’m sorry if you think I’m not good enough to talk to me” Caitlyn was furious because Jay believed he had the right to judge her after all that time “You left me for years and now you think you have the right to judge me or any of my decisions?”

“I went to fight a war, Caitlyn” Jay replied rolling his eyes “I wasn’t playing in the park, you know?”

“Yeah, I perfectly know that myself” Caitlyn reproached him looking the other way “I counted on you Jay, we were a team and you left me and after that, you just stopped talking”

“You are judging me as if I would have preferred Afghanistan to be at home

“We both know that you ran away when you turned 18”

“As if you had done any different” Jay replied.

“I ran away because dad took the shit out of me every day because I ended up in the hospital 8 times in a year because dad couldn’t control himself, because staying here was killing me slowly and because you and Will left me!” Caitlyn yelled at him “I was in pain too; Don’t you think Mom was important to me too? She left us all and yet you and Will had the option to run away while I had to stay here enduring all the crap from dad” She turned to continue walking towards her apartment “I’m sorry if I turned out in a major disappointment but this me is the best I could do with what I had to work with”

Caitlyn turned the corner feeling anger wash over her and collided with someone.

“Damn,” he muttered when he saw it was Kenny.

“I think the way you were yelling could say that” Kenny answered, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m not in the mood” Caitlyn told him, rolling her eyes and continuing her walk.

“Why do you insist on fighting with everyone?” Kenny asked, causing Caitlyn to turn around in a fury.

“I don’t know Kenny, you tell me, why do you insist on being such a hard ass to me?” Caitlyn answered approaching him.

“Sorry, do you feel bad that I was harsh on you when you left me unexplained?”

“I didn’t think you needed them, you were smart enough to figure out just why by yourself,” Caitlyn told him with sarcasm.

“You left me because suddenly that I was fighting wasn’t that attractive to you, huh?”

“I left you cause I was dead inside!” Caitlyn screeched tired that people believed they had the right to judge her “I lived for you when you didn’t want to live for yourself” She added moving her shoulder a little that was hurting again “I really tried to bring you back, I begged you to start therapy, Kenny. I begged you to do something for you, for me, for us, and you didn’t even try it for me”

“You left me anyway, Caitlyn” Kenny replied a bit stunned by his wife’s speech “You left me, you turned your back away from me when I needed it the most, you left even though you knew I needed you”

“You didn’t need me, you needed to lose me to understand that therapy was the only way to solve your problems” Caitlyn told him making a strange smile with her lips, “Some say you don’t know what you have until you lose it, I think we both know that’s true now”

She resumed her way leaving Kenny behind; it had been a more than stressful night, she could feel her shoulder giving her stitches of a pain asking her to rest. Caitlyn found herself unable to think. First, she had confirmed that her brother Jay wasn’t too happy with her. That was okay. It wasn’t like she was too happy with him either.

Unlike Will, Jay had always been the closest to Caitlyn growing up, and Caitlyn had always considered Jay her hero. Jay was always there for her while they grew up, when she was 7 years old and a boy threw her off his bike Jay went after him to beat him up when he was 11 and gave his first kiss Jay went again after the bastard who had touched his sister when she turned 14 and her heart was broken for the first time. Jay was always there until one day he said he had enlisted in the army. That day had been very sad for Caitlyn because she realized that Jay was going to go far away from Chicago.

When their mother died, Jay returned to Chicago for a time, but as soon as he could, he re-enlisted and disappeared. She later understood that they limited the time to send letters or communicate with someone abroad, but what she never forgave him was leaving her with her father. The only thing that ever hurt her was feeling abandoned when she most needed someone to protect her. Someone who would kick her father’s ass when she still couldn’t, because what Caitlyn had wanted most was that she had learned to fight in her teens, so she would have kicked Pat’s ass.

On the other side was Kenny, Caitlyn was exhausted. It was better when she didn’t have to see it. She hoped she could at least take some blame for her ruined marriage. However, Kenny seemed hell-bent on throwing her in the face whenever he could that she had left him without looking back. That was a lie. She had called Jess to ask for updates until he told her it was unhealthy for her to keep worrying about Kenny like this if she had left him. It was the truth. It hurt to hear it, but Jess was right.

What had always intrigued Caitlyn been why Kenny had never looked for her, she hadn’t been hiding so at any moment in those five years he could have contacted and talked to her? However, Kenny had stayed on the sidelines. That had always intrigued her. “Why, if she was so important to him he still felt so hurt five years later, hadn’t he tried to get her back with him?”

Then Caitlyn decided that she was not going back to her apartment yet. She crossed the street and started walking the other way towards the downtown hotel where Sheryll had told her the team was staying. She and O.A were already settled in apartments when the team arrived. She showed up at the front desk and used her badge to be told which room Kenny was staying in. When she got to his door Caitlyn took a deep breath before knocking. Kenny opened the door and Caitlyn remembered why she liked him so much, there was nothing more handsome in the world than Kenny in a sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“Why did you let me go?” Caitlyn asked before Kenny could even open his mouth, “Why did you let me out the door that day if you needed me so bad?”

“I only wanted you to be happy” Kenny replied after a few seconds “Even if it wasn’t with me, I’m sorry it wasn’t with me”

“You were the love of my life and I thought I was yours too” Caitlyn murmured “But I was wrong, you don’t let the love of your life go out the door and you don’t go after him”

“I wanted you to live your life, the life that I hadn’t let you live while you were with me”

“I think loving you wasn’t enough for you” Caitlyn said.

“You always meant the world to me” Kenny confessed “I’m sorry if I let you forget that”

“Why did you never go looking for me?” She asked, staring at him.

“I went to see you one day, and I saw you leave your apartment with O.A, you were laughing at something he was telling you so I left,” He told her.

“O.A and me? That’s ridiculous”

“Now I know but at that moment I thought the best thing was to let you be happy, even if it wasn’t with me, your life seemed fine” He shrugged.

“It just seemed like that wasn’t true anyway” Caitlyn whispered “You were always so noble”

“You deserve to be happy” Kenny clarified.

“With whom? I did not know anyone who told me I was worth it until you arrived and after that, I think nobody was ever good enough” Caitlyn explained biting her lip with a grimace “Sorry I gave up on us when you never did “ she added turning around ready to walk away.

“Caitlyn?”

“What?” she asked looking back at him, but before she got an answer, Kenny kissed her. And by God, Caitlyn could swear it took her breath away every time he did. She stroked his hair as he took her by the waist. His touch could make Caitlyn’s body explode. It had always had that effect on her. It made her feel like a child who was having her first kiss.

He lifted her slightly off the floor to enter the room and close the door before pressing Caitlyn against it. God, he would never tire of kissing her. Every time he did, it was like it was the first time. He could never get enough of her. He lifted her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed. It was crazy; he knew it and he was sure Caitlyn knew it too, but neither of them wanted to stop.

Kenny took off her jacket and jeans as he stroked her legs before removing her panties. He slid down and fondled Caitlyn’s intimacy. He moved his fingers against her center and caressing her, making Caitlyn sigh. He ran his tongue over her folds and sucked on her clit slowly. Another thing Caitlyn missed about Kenny was sex. They always had the best sex in the world.

“Oh, shit” she said, throwing her head back and stroking his hair. Caitlyn moved her hips against him as she pulled on Kenny’s sweatshirt to remove it. He moved his tongue in circles against her center as she stirred against him, sucking on her clit once more before removing her top and bra and start kissing her lips again. Caitlyn kissed him and untied his tracksuit bottoms and then remove his boxer shorts. She wanted to move and give him back a little of what Kenny was giving her, but her shoulder wouldn’t stop bothering her.

Kenny nibbled on her nipples while inserting a pair of fingers into her intimacy, Caitlyn let out a little cry of surprise before beginning to moan out loud. He sucked on her nipples, causing her to shake. Caitlyn was shaking with pleasure when he settled down and thrust inside her. They both moaned. He kissed her neck before starting to ram into her.

“God” Caitlyn muttered throwing her head back “I had forgotten it felt so good” she moaned.

“Baby” he groaned, “You’re so tight” He could feel the walls of her vagina pressing against him. Sex with Kenny was hot, it was sexy but soft and delusional until Caitlyn discovered that it was her favorite type of sex, rough but soft at the same time. He took her breasts between his hands, kissing and sucking them as he started sucking on Caitlyn’s neck. Caitlyn arched towards him seeking to intensify the contact, his rhythm intensifying causing her to moan louder.

“Cum baby, cum for me” he whispered with gasps, and Caitlyn couldn’t wait much longer to fulfill his request before cumming between moans being followed by him a few seconds later.

She could feel her body shaking and her shoulder begging her to stop moving. Having sex with Kenny still made her shiver. It still felt as good as the first day. That was crazy. They hadn’t seen each other in five years and there they were, having sex as if time hadn’t passed. “Having sex” was a simple euphony because they both knew there was more than sex in that room. Caitlyn just closed her eyes, trying to calm the hectic rhythm of her heart. To be honest, she didn’t want to open her eyes and see his face. She was wondering how she had accepted this madness and how she had ended up in this situation. With all those thoughts in mind, she fell asleep.

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

Tag list:

@proceduralpassion @lovecatystuff @bethii1 @give-jack-a-lightsaber @thevelvetseries @lovingfanofupstead @thetwit @anotheronechicagobog @sadsot @chicagogirl2019 @cpdfan231 @bxrgesses @onechicago-upsteadrhekker @slytherinwitchy @itsdesiree86 @halstudandruz @hereforthedale @cactiem @nhcwdw @anotherfan07 @pinkrockstar19 @rochyu @mollyc70 @fangirlings-things

#fbi most wanted #fbi imagines #fbi cbs #fbi most wanted imagine #fbi: most wanted #fbi most wanted fanfic #kenny crosby #kenny crosby imagine #kenny crosby fanfic #halstead sister #halstead reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fanfic #jay halstead imagine #will halstead imagine

83 notes · View notes