#if it was brighter I would’ve woken him up last night but where I live you couldn’t see em

[mer-se]

I could cry

[loki-hargreeves]

You Flower, You Feast - Loki x Reader [PART 2]

[PART 1]

Warnings: pregnancy, relationship issues, morning sickness, angst, fighting, flinching, falling ill, magical medical procedures, mentions of death (possibility of dying, but no one dies), mentions of torture, hurt/comfort, bittersweet fluff and implied smut (love making) at the end

Word Count: 8,1K

Summary: Part 2 of ‘you flower, you feast’. You’re pregnant, but you’re hiding the fact from Loki. After his return, he has been different and you haven’t been able to confide in him like you did before. The truth is revealed after you end up in the infirmary after getting sick. The fear of almost losing you makes Loki realize that things need to change, and he finally tells you what happened to him after he fell from the bridge. It seems like he’s finally back again. 

Author’s Note: You don’t really have to read the first part in order to read this, but it would help paint a fuller picture. The first part has smut, but the plot is quite long as well. I hope you’ll enjoy this! Requested by @sunshineyrosie​

   THIRD POV

The sickness took over Y/N by surprise. She had just woken up and she immediately knew that something was wrong. Without wasting any time, she got up from the safety of the warm bed, running toward the bathroom that was in her and Loki’s shared quarters. By the time she reached the toilet, everything she had eaten the previous day came up, making her eyes and nose sting. It made her stomach sick when she coughed up everything which left a foul taste in her mouth. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had woken up so abruptly. When she was finished, she cleaned up after herself and had to rinse her mouth thoroughly. 

A thought crossed her mind as she wondered why she was so nauseous. Could it be? Could she be pregnant? 

It had been a few weeks since she and Loki had decided to try for a baby. For countless nights, they had been tangled in a rough dance and her body had every mark to prove that. Not that it didn’t feel great, because the rough sex with Loki was mind-blowing, but that was all it was; rough. Loki was still not letting her in. He was hiding behind his tall and strong walls and she was afraid he’d never break them down. It felt like he used the sex as a distraction. 

Y/N put a hand on her stomach and realized that if she was carrying a child - their child - it would change their lives. Would Loki change? What if he stayed the same, distant and rough man. Could that be good for a child? 

“Are you in there?” Loki’s voice startled her. He hadn’t been in bed when she had woken up, but now he was right behind the bathroom door. 

Although she was still in shock, she tried to push her thoughts away. Her hand dropped to her side and she cleared her throat, “Yeah,” letting him know she was awake and well. 

“Is everything alright?” Loki wondered. It was sweet of him to care. Perhaps he was hoping to hear some positive news, but she wasn’t going to tell him. Not yet. 

Y/N took one last glance in the mirror, noticing just how tired she looked. Perhaps a bath would make her feel better and more at ease? She decided to get the water running.

“I’m fine, Loki. I’m going to take a bath,” She let him know, leaving an open invitation for him to join her. 

The door opened and Loki walked in. He had magicked his clothes on because once they were in private, they came off by vanishing into thin air. “Mind if I join you?” 

The water began to flow silently into the big bathtub. Surely, the hot water would make her feel better. Perhaps Loki would benefit from the relaxation it offered too. 

“Sounds great,” She smiled, but she didn’t sound too convincing. Her morning sickness was fresh on her mind and all she could think about was the possibility of being pregnant. For some reason, it absolutely terrified her. If only Loki was alright, so she could confide in him. How would he react to the news? Would he be mad if she hid it from him? 

As the two of them sunk into the water that smelled of lavender and other expensive herbs and oils, Y/N leaned against Loki’s body. She was still exhausted and she wished that even for a moment, they could just be like this. It reminded her of the good old days when they were so happy. Everything had changed. Being like that, so close was lovely. 

Loki’s skilled fingers traced patterns over her exposed skin. He was careful not to apply too much pressure to the fresh love-bites and bruises among the old ones. If anyone saw her like that, it would be obvious that she was his, and vice versa. Loki’s back was certainly covered in scratches.

Y/N wondered if Loki could feel the way her heart was pounding in her chest. She wondered if he could tell she was troubled by her own thoughts. Did he still care? 

“What’s on your mind, dear?” He noticed that something was different. For weeks, everything had been out of the ordinary. Was he simply imagining it or was she distracted by something? 

She blinked a few times, hoping to get rid of the sleepiness that still had a hold on her. Then she faced Loki, searching for something familiar in his eyes. She knew that he was still in there, and sometimes it showed, like in moments like these. 

What is on my mind? She thought. She wanted to know what happened to Loki on the bridge because Thor and Odin refused to tell her the details. What happened to him after that? Where had he been and who had he been with? Why did Loki show up on Midgard with the goal of taking over the realm? Why had he visited Earth out of all places before coming to her? Had he missed her? Because she had missed him more than words could’ve ever expressed. The nights she spent in the palace where she couldn’t escape his memory, thinking he was dead, had been absolutely dreadful. She had thought of him every single day. 

“Nothing, I’m just tired,” Y/N sighed and decided to keep things to herself, for now. It was better that way. Perhaps Loki saw that she was lying, but he decided not to poke holes in her story. Deep down, he feared he might’ve already known the answer. Guilt was tormenting him already but he had no clue how to deal with it. Where would he even begin? It was easier to shut her out. 

                                                           A few weeks passed, and she held tight onto her secret. By now it was clear as daylight that she was expecting a child, their child. It should’ve been easy to tell Loki, but so far she kept it to herself. Sometimes it felt like Y/N was trying to fool her own mind and lie to herself. Despite it all, she knew that it was wrong. At some point, he would find out whether she liked it or not and she knew it would be best if Loki heard it from her. Yes, he wanted a child. But how would he react? Was he ready? Was he having these fantasies merely so they would stay together? What if he didn’t actually want a baby and he’d be mad? 

Y/N hated the thoughts she had. She absolutely despised the fact she feared him for no good reason. Loki had never hurt her and he had never implied that he would, yet her mind twisted things. He had changed, and she still didn’t know why. Would she ever see the old him again? 

It was midday and the sun was bright enough that even inside in the great library in the palace, she could read with ease without additional lights. With a cup of tea by her side and a book in her hand, she focused on the fictional world she was reading about, completely blocking out her real life for just a moment. In stories that had never happened, nothing mattered. She could look into a character’s life and worry about their problems instead of her own. Besides, for a few days now she had felt sick to her stomach and a headache had been prominent for days on end now. Not even her own magic had pushed it away which was unusual, but she assumed it was because of the pregnancy. Therefore she didn’t think to mention her odd symptoms to anyone. Not that anyone would’ve cared much of a headache anyway. 

When she put the book down, it was much darker. Through the sheer curtains, she could see the sun was setting, which painted all of Asgard golden and pink. When had she finished her tea?

“Y/N?” Loki’s familiar voice caught her attention. Time had passed quicker than she could’ve expected, and she realized that she had forgotten to meet him. They had planned on eating dinner together that day. 

Quickly, she put the book down and she got up, noticing how stiff she felt after having been frozen on one spot for several hours probably. For a moment, she felt dizzy which she blamed on for standing up so fast.

“I’m here!” She let him know about her whereabouts as slowly the occurrences of the protagonist faded away from her mind. 

As Loki walked up to her, he seemed relieved - but only for a short while. 

“I was worried when you didn’t show up,” He said honestly. It was possibly the most caring thing he had said since his return, yet he was probably disappointed. Y/N quickly wiped away her bitter thoughts and focused on the brighter side. Despite how guilty she felt about missing their dinner date, she thought it was a great opportunity to try to dig deeper into what happened to him. Perhaps he’d open up?

“I’m so sorry, Loki, I am,” Y/N apologized sincerely, closing the gap between them. She felt hopeful when Loki let her take his hands in hers. His were always so soft, even when his touch was rougher than before between the sheets these days. His hands never changed. “I wasn’t feeling well and when I opened the book, I didn’t even notice how much time had passed until now.”

Loki overlooked what she said about feeling unwell. Perhaps it was wrong but he assumed she was avoiding him. Truthfully, he knew he had been a lot to handle recently. Hell, if he had been in her shoes, he would’ve probably avoided himself too. Loki couldn’t be too mad at her, because he did blame himself a lot. If only he knew how to change. His mind would surely be the end of him. 

“Hey,” Y/N noticed how lost he seemed in his own head, “Are you alright?”

A smile spread on his face, completely disregarding the sad trace that glimmered in his eyes a moment ago. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

So defensive, she thought. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, I hope you know I’m here for you.”

Loki recognized that look on her face. It was pity, and he hated it. Loki didn’t want her pity, he didn’t feel deserving of it. 

He pulled his hands out of her gentle grasp, “Do you think I can’t take care of myself?” 

The way he assumed things that she would never think was infuriating. Perhaps he was taking a toll on Y/N’s nerves because her headache was getting worse and she felt her blood boiling beneath her skin. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold up with his, and pretend as nothing had ever happened, or how long she could keep it a secret that she was carrying their child and she was unsure whether or not it was a good idea to have this baby. The guilt and pain were tormenting her. 

“That’s not what I said, Loki-”

“You were thinking it, were you not?” Loki didn’t know why he said that, but now it was too late. He didn’t wish to fight with her, but it seemed like his own thoughts and feelings were about to pour over the brim. 

A sigh escaped her lips and she felt like sitting down. The world around her was spinning and she wasn’t sure if it was just her nerves burning up that was causing it. It grew worse at an alarming rate and she felt cold sweat on her skin. 

“Don’t twist my words, Loki,” She groaned, more annoyed at the sick feeling that was overwhelming her rather than his attitude. 

Those words she said were a sharp reminder of the moment Loki shared with Odin. When he lifted the ice casket, when he confronted his so-called father and found out that he had been taken from Jotunheim as an infant. 

Loki’s heart was breaking in his chest piece by piece. The lie he had grown up in was now shattering and he saw through the cracks. Everything was beginning to make more sense. The pain and pure agony he felt was barely contained. He kept his teary-eyed glued onto his father, Odin, who wasn’t that much of his father after all. 

“The casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin looked shocked, but he didn’t look sad. It was like he cared more about being caught in a lie rather than being caught as a liar and a terrible father. Odin never cared about Loki, did he? Loki began to believe that he had never even been loved by him. Why did Odin know about Loki’s blue skin? Why did he know that it wasn’t a curse? It should’ve been a major shock to anyone, but Odin knew...

“No,” Odin eventually answered him.

Loki stopped walking once they were close enough for his liking. He wanted Odin to see his wrath and fury, and he wanted to see the shame on Odin’s face. 

“In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby - small for a giant’s offspring,” Odin recalled the day he found Loki. Of course, he didn’t tell Loki the exact story of the events that occurred. Odin wanted it to seem more glorious and heroic than it actually was. Loki would never know. “Abandoned, suffering....left to die.”

“Laufey’s son,” Odin confirmed.

“Laufey’s son,” Loki had to repeat that in order to process what he just heard. They were only two words, but he felt tears gathering in his eyes and he was choking up which he tried to ease by swallowing thickly, nervously. 

“Yes,” Odin nodded. He was oddly calm.

Loki stood there in shock, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. As if it wasn’t worse enough that his family had lied to him his entire life, now he was hearing that his actual family hadn’t wanted him either. Could it be true? That he was a prince that no one wanted to see become a king? Had he ever been worthy of love? What would Y/N think of him once she’d find out about his true origin? Would she stop loving him? 

“Why?” Loki struggled as he searched for the words he wanted to use. His thoughts were racing in his head and he felt like he would go mad if he tried to think too much right now. “You were knee-deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?” 

“You were an innocent child-”

Loki could smell Odin’s lie from a mile away and it fueled his rage, “No. You took me for a purpose, what was it?” Loki had to know, even if he feared it would torment him for the rest of his life. There had to be a reason, Odin didn’t care for abandoned babies - otherwise, the palace would be full of children.

Odin was shocked that Loki had interrupted him, let alone refused to listen to his sorrow story. How would he react if he told him the real truth? Odin wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

The silence in the vault was uncomfortable, and it was burning on their skin. For Loki, the silence was dreadful and he couldn’t take it, 

“TELL ME!” He demanded loudly, his painful cry echoing throughout the entire room and surely beyond the golden walls. 

Odin couldn’t look Loki in the eye, “I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace through you.”

Tears rolled down Loki’s face now, which he couldn’t control anymore. What Odin said was almost worse than not knowing at all. Odin had only seen an opportunity in Loki as an object, as a piece in negotiation. 

“Why?” 

“But those plans no longer matter,” Odin was quick to reassure him, but Loki doubted that. How could he ever trust another word that came out of his mouth ever again? That man had lied about Loki’s entire existence, made him believe that his own race was the pure evil enemy of the nine realms. Loki had heard Odin bash about how he had defeated the Jotuns in battle, and killed unimaginable amounts of Jotun soldiers. He had said those things as he kept the secret of Loki’s true nature. It was gross, it made Loki taste muck in his mouth.

“So I’m no more than another stolen relic,” Loki looked at the other stolen things in the vault that he was surrounded by, which was incredibly ironic, “locked up, here, until you might have use of me?” 

Odin didn’t enjoy being talked back to. He couldn’t foresee this ever happening and he couldn’t imagine what Loki was going through. The old king could only think about himself, about how he had faced this before with Hela. Why were his children not good enough? 

“Why do you twist my words?” 

Odin’s question echoed in Loki’s head and for a moment, he forgot the conversation that he had with his wife, one that was quickly escalating into a fight. It was a miracle it hadn’t happened sooner.

“Loki,” Y/N noticed that somehow, her words had affected him terribly. She wanted to know why. One side of her mind told her to give it up, to keep pretending like everything was fine because clearly Loki was still hurt. Another part of her wanted to encourage him to open up, to trust her again. She wanted to help him. The rough sex and silence afterwards would only get toxic and it wasn’t good for any of them long term. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Loki made up his mind. 

Being pushed away constantly was not only frustrating but painful. When they got married, they had become a team. They had to be there for each other through the good and the bad. She had promised to be his rock, to be the one he could confide in no matter what. Suddenly, guilt overwhelmed her. He had promised that to her as well, and yet she hadn’t told Loki about the baby. 

“How can you say that if you don’t even try to make me understand?” She wondered, almost demanding him to say something, anything at all other than dismissive sentences and strange gazes.

Where would he even begin? It had been so long, and Loki had seen so much. Would he tell her about what happened on Asgard? Or should he begin with the titan that still haunted him like a shadow. 

“Loki, what happened to you on that bridge?” Y/N dared to ask him about something that surely was a sore spot. No one had told her, although she had asked many times. Thor had tried to come up with a heroic explanation for it all, but Y/N knew it to be all lies. Something darker had happened and she wanted to know so that she could help Loki. 

Had they really not told her? Loki was surprised at how little she truly knew. A broken smile spread on his face. Odin and Thor hadn’t had the guts to tell her the truth. They were so cowardly, it was almost comedic in a way. 

“What did they tell you happened?” 

“They told me lie after lie. I don’t care about their version of the story. Loki, the only story I care about is yours,” She let out a shaky breath. The spinning was getting worse by the second. Had she consumed something bad?

Loki wanted to tell her, but he knew the truth would put her through a lot of sorrow. Would she still care for him if she knew everything?

He held onto his words for a while longer. Every cell in his body was burning with longing, wanting to tell her everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides, he kept thinking about Odin which agitated him. Why did he have to make it into every aspect of his life? 

Loki fell silent and watched her walk away. Instead of trying to reach for him, she walked to the nearest bookcase and leaned against the fine wood. 

“What’s going on?” Loki realized how oddly she was behaving. Perhaps she was genuinely feeling under the weather? His anger began to fade as it was replaced by worry. 

“Nothing!” She hissed, lying, but only because she didn’t want to focus on her. 

Loki couldn’t bear hearing her lies, as ironic as it was. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N, I can tell that something is off!”

As he spoke with a loud voice and walked towards her, Y/N flinched. She didn’t mean to, but the loud noise and his abrupt movement had startled her. Her hand quickly covered her stomach, which was completely unintentional and her eyes widened in shock. Why did she react like that?

Loki stilled completely, unable to believe what happened. Did she think he would harm her? Was she afraid of him? 

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?” He muttered in disbelief. Seeing the look on her face made Loki feel disgusted with himself. He felt like a monster. 

Y/N let her hand fall to her side. 

“No, I just...I don’t know, Loki,” She felt awful for even thinking about it. That was Loki! Her husband. The man she was in love with. If it wasn’t for the torturous headache and nausea she was suffering from, she would’ve hugged him and reassured Loki that she wasn’t afraid of him, but right now all she could do was  lean against the steady bookcase. Y/N was convinced that her balance would betray her if she tried to stand all on her own. 

It was definitely not something she could’ve ignored furthermore. In a desperate attempt to make things right, she tried to walk to Loki. Although she was lightheaded and everything around her began to turn into a blurry mess, she knew one thing; she needed Loki. She couldn’t let him think he was a monstrous creature. She hadn’t meant to flinch like that - it just happened. 

Whenever times were troubling or she was afraid, she always wanted to be with him.

Loki noticed how quickly her demeanor was changing. It almost looked like she was intoxicated. The way she massaged her temples and how she leaned into her own touch, looking dizzy even though she was standing, was strange. As he looked closer, he noticed that her body was trembling ever so slightly. The sight of her like that calmed his anger since it got replaced by worry. 

“Y/N?” He wanted to see her face. Was she crying?

She took a step toward him and almost tripped over her own feet. Loki caught her in his arms just in time. 

“That’s it, I’m taking you to the infirmary,” Loki made up his mind, past conversation now long forgotten. The only thing that mattered was her well-being. Frankly, seeing her like that terrified Loki. During all the years they had spent together, he had never seen her like this and it was more than alarming. 

The walk from the palace library to the infirmary wasn’t that long, but it felt like it took them hours. With every step they took, she seemed to get weaker. By the time they were walking down the hallway to the infirmary, Loki had to wrap his arm around her waist to keep her on her feet - otherwise she would’ve fallen on the cold, hard floor. 

The healers had seen them coming. Without a shared word being said, they took Y/N from him and placed her on the bright inspection bed nearby where they could figure out what was wrong with her. Loki wanted to stay, but everything escalated incredibly fast, leaving him in the side. There was no way he would’ve pushed himself between the people who were trying to help her.

The words everyone said merged together, and it seemed like he could only hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. He just stood there and watched as the love of his life was surrounded by the best healers in the nine realms and even they seemed panicked. Something was terribly wrong. 

The gold magic surrounded her and Loki caught a glimpse of the soul forge that the healers were examining. Even if he had wanted to focus on it, he wasn’t sure if he could’ve. Loki looked at Y/N again whose eyes were closed by now and she looked to be asleep, only he knew that she wasn’t resting. 

He didn’t really phantom how much time had passed until a healer walked up to him, gesturing Loki to walk further away.

“We need to use drastic magic in order to heal her,” She explained carefully, not wanting to upset the prince.

“What’s wrong with her?” Loki had to know, worry clear in his voice. 

The healer looked lost, almost nervous. “There is a blockage in her head. The magic it requires to heal her is strong and we do not know if the baby will survive it.”

The baby?

Loki’s mouth fell open but he didn’t find any words. He was already in shock when she fell ill so fast, but to hear about a baby was like a bucket of ice cold water was doused over him. She was pregnant?

The lady knew that there was no time they could waste, so she was forced to move on, “Since you are the father, we need your opinion on the procedure. Are you willing to risk losing the baby-”

“Yes!” Loki couldn’t believe they were asking him that. “Yes, please, I just need her to survive.” He didn’t want to lose the child that he just learned existed, but most importantly he couldn’t imagine losing her. Nothing else mattered than his wife’s well-being. If he lost Y/N, he would lose himself. As tragic as the idea was of possibly losing their unborn child, it would be even worse to lose her. After all, there was only one of Y/N. They could always try to start a family of their own again if they wanted to.

They took her away and Loki was forced to wait outside the infirmary. He had no clue what they were doing to her, and he couldn’t just stand in the hallway and wait. Loki was going to retreat to the privacy of their shared quarters, but it felt like his legs had turned to pillars of ice. As he stood there, taken back by shock and tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, he heard footsteps coming his way. As Loki glanced in the direction, he saw Lady Sif walking there along with Frigga. Right now, the last thing he desired was to talk to anyone. 

“What happened?” Frigga seemed concerned, looking into the infirmary and then at her son who had tears in his green eyes. It hurt her to see him like that. 

“I don’t know,” Loki realized he hadn’t spoken in  a while. He wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, but by now it was dark outside. His heart was still racing and it felt like the world was caving in on him. “She fell ill so suddenly, they said it’s serious,” Loki pushed the words out of his mouth. Saying it out loud just made it real, and now he felt like crying the pain away. 

Lady Sif didn’t say anything, but Loki felt a pair of judging eyes on his skin. She probably thought it was Loki’s fault somehow,

Was it?

He couldn’t help but wonder if he had noticed these signs sooner, would she be alright?

Frigga pulled Loki into a hug and he didn’t resist it. In fact, it felt comforting to be held. Had it been any other day recently, he would’ve pushed her away but not now. Loki hugged her back and wished that Sif would turn around. As he leaned against his mother’s touch, he felt his own tears rolling down his face silently. 

Y/N was pregnant, but he wouldn’t tell them. Not now. 

“She’ll be alright,” Frigga attempted to comfort him. There was a certainty in her voice that Loki wanted to find solace in. He knew there was no way she could tell whether or not Y/N would be alright, but in that moment it was nice to believe that. 

               The headache had turned into a dull pain, which felt so good compared to what it had been before. It was warm in the air around Y/N and she felt oddly comfortable. She was waking up from sleep, but she couldn’t remember falling asleep. Why was it so dark? 

As she opened her eyes, she quickly learned where she was. The palace infirmary. The healer’s weren’t anywhere to be seen, but someone was holding her hand. 

It was Loki.

He was awake and he looked at her with glistening eyes. She noticed just how exhausted he looked and it made her heart sting. 

The baby!

Y/N had to know the baby was safe. In a moment of worry and confusion, she put her hand on her belly and opened her mouth, “is it safe?” 

Then she realized she had never told him. For so many mornings now she had been woken up because of the feisty little thing, that she had grown accustomed to it. If Loki hadn’t known, now he certainly did.

“The baby is safe, Y/N,” Loki finally spoke. He didn’t sound resentful at all. Instead, there was a calm in his voice, because of how relieved he was. Not only did the baby make it, but so did she. The healers had worked their magic just in time and therefore both of them had been saved. For a moment, Loki had been afraid that he had lost them. 

Guilt began to crawl beneath her skin. Although she rested comfortably on the soft bed, she didn’t feel good. Nothing had gone to plan. Loki had deserved to find out about the pregnancy differently. 

“I was afraid I’d lose you,” Loki admitted, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. It felt so good to hold her, to know she was alive and well. 

Slowly, she tilted her head so she could face him. Had Loki been crying? The sight of him like that, with slumped shoulders, messy hair and sad eyes was heartbreaking. As if he hadn’t gone through enough already. 

“Thank you,” She barely got the words out of her mouth. Loki had been the one who took her there in time. Surely, if he hadn’t come to the library, she would’ve been sprawled on the couch, book in hand and with a terrible headache  - or worse. She didn’t want to think about it. 

“They said you had something in your head. It could’ve...it could’ve taken your life,” Loki recalled what the healers had explained to him as he had listened half-heartedly. His mind had been tampered with worried thoughts and guilt-riddled ideas. All that mattered was that they were both safe and sound. 

Whatever it was, Y/N was just glad they were alright. All she could think about was the baby. She felt bad for ignoring her symptoms for so long. Had she endangered the fetus? What had caused it? Would she ever know?

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” By now she had teared up. The words struggled to pour from her quivering lips. 

Loki brushed his fingers on her face, attempting to comfort her the best way he could. His touch was so gentle, so affectionate. It sent shivers down her spine. The gentle touch reminded her of how things used to be. 

“How long have you known?” Loki was almost afraid to ask. 

“A few weeks. I wasn’t sure until recently.”

“Right…” He couldn’t blame her for hiding the fact. During the several hours he had spent sitting by her bedside, he had thought over the time they had spent together in the past few weeks since his return. The fact that she could feel guilty about it was mind boggling to him. Loki was angry at himself for just how much he had pushed her away. It was no wonder she didn’t fully trust him. Each time she had tried to connect with him, he had turned a blind eye or he had distracted both of them with sex. As he thought of it, it made his stomach twist in knots. 

Y/N could tell that Loki was deep in thought. She squeezed his hand lightly, “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Loki was quick to reassure her. Once again, he felt tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. He hated crying, but sometimes he couldn’t make it stop. It was time for them to fix things.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N blinked and felt tears sliding down across her face and her neck. Despite his comforting words, she felt guilty. The pain she had carried in her heart for weeks now was seeing daylight and it felt fresh. It was all so overwhelming. 

Loki leaned closer to her and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She could feel how his lips were trembling ever so slightly.

“It’s going to be alright,” Loki whispered after a while. “I promise. I’ve shut you out for far too long.”

Was he going to open up to her? 

Loki recognized the hopeful gleam in her teary eyes. He knew how important it was for both of them to discuss what had happened. They couldn’t move on if they pretended that he had never been gone in the first place. But he wasn’t going to speak of it now when she was recovering. 

“I love you, Loki,” She murmured softly and managed to crack a smile. 

His heart swelled with affection. God, he loved her more than she could ever know. Loki couldn’t understand how he had treated her, it made him angry. 

“I love you too,” He returned the words to her. Loki might’ve been a master at lying, but when he professed his love to her, no one could deny the sincerity in his words. 

Carefully, he moved his hand and placed it over her stomach, where he figured the baby was. He felt goosebumps all over his skin as he laid his palm flat over her. Knowing that their child was growing there was astonishing. Loki felt so lucky that he was going to start a family with her. 

No more words were needed. Y/N could tell what he was thinking. He loved both of them so much.

                                A few days later, she was feeling much better. The healers had told her to take it easy for a while, especially now as she was pregnant. Returning to her and Loki’s quarters was exciting. Finally, some proper privacy. 

Ever since the incident, something changed in Loki. Perhaps it was the startling revelation that he almost lost her that changed him. Time was precious, even for them. He had been away from her long enough and he wanted to make up for the wasted time. 

Although they had been quite happy for the past few days, he knew it would all come to an end, at least for a while as he’d open up about what he had gone through since he last was on Asgard. 

Candles had lit the room, making it comfortable and warm. There were a few candles on their nightstands, others on the shelves nearby and some were levitating midair with the little help of magic. 

Loki had certainly made her feel welcome in their private space again, after she had stayed away for only a few days. As she saw the tea on a tray by the bed, her heart swelled in her chest. It was so sweet of him. 

“You didn’t have to,” She turned to Loki who was right by her side. The joy on her face was irreplaceable to him. 

“But I wanted to,” Loki reassured her.

It had been yet another long day and they couldn’t wait to get wrapped in the blankets and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Despite how scared they both had been when she ended up in the infirmary, the time afterwards had been wonderful. Loki had finally softened up again, at least to her. 

The two of them sat down on the bed with warm teacups in their hands. For a while, they embraced the silence that settled around them. It was nice. 

“You know,” Y/N was the first one to speak, “I’m having a great time, but I was wondering if you’d like that. It’s okay if you don’t.”

“I suppose now is a good time,” Loki’s reply surprised her.

She put her nearly empty cup away as Loki magicked his on the nightstand. The mood shifted slightly, but it was less dramatic than anything that they had went though in the past few weeks. They sat on the bed in a way they could face each other and they were still cosy. 

“Where do I even begin?” Loki laughed, but he didn’t sound full of joy. He was genuinely nervous. No one had ever heard this story. No one knew. 

Y/N put her hand on his shoulder, attempting to make him relax as much as he possibly could. She sensed that whatever it was that he was going to say, it would be extremely difficult for him. “Were you alone?” She asked him, initiating the conversation. By now, even her heart was racing in her chest. The thought of him being all alone for so long made her sad. She hoped he had good company at least.

Although he sat safely on his bed, Loki could feel the vastness of space around him. He could see the darkness and the stars that were so incredibly far away. There was nothing but stone beneath his feet and he was cold, inside out. 

“I was found by a titan, who calls himself Thanos,” Saying his name felt wrong. It was like fire burning on his tongue. “For a while, I was trapped with him. Wherever he went, I did too. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Loki’s entire demeanor changed. He couldn’t look her in the eye. It almost seemed like he was mentally in an entirely different place. Seeing him like that was so unusual for her, and it made her feel terrible. 

She put her hand on his arm, running her fingers up and down his skin every so softly, to remind him that she was right by his side.

“When he found me, I was weak. I tried to put up a fight, and he saw what I was capable of. When his puppets showed up, I was outnumbered,” Loki felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fight them off. They were more powerful than he liked to admit. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” She reassured him as she recognized the hint of guilt and shame on his face. Loki had been weak when he fell. Most would’ve died after being sucked up by the portal and being thrown out into the emptiness of outer space. The energy was so strong it could end someone’s life in seconds. It was a miracle he survived that alone.

“Thanos wanted me to work for him, to do his dirty work. I refused,” He smiled but it was an empty smile, “which resulted in months of torture.” His smile vanished completely, leaving behind only a shadow of misery. 

Although she had expected something awful, she hadn’t thought she’d hear that. Suddenly, it made sense why he had been like that when he returned. Why it looked like he hadn’t slept in months, why he was afraid to put pressure on his other leg almost like he was in pain. Why he had shut everyone out completely and distanced himself physically and emotionally. 

Y/N wanted to say something, but it felt like she had eaten flour. Her mouth was dry and she was speechless. Instead, she pulled him closer ever so slightly, hoping to comfort him with her actions. 

Loki let himself be embraced by her. In fact, when she wrapped her arms around his body and his face nuzzled the crook of her neck, which made it so easy to inhale her sweet scent, he realized how much he needed it. Loki thought he would have spoken more without getting so emotional, but to even think about the pain he had endured was hard. It made him cold to his core and he felt nauseous all over again. When he hugged her back and let himself get lost in her arms, he could begin to heal. 

“I don’t think...I would’ve survived if I hadn’t thought of you,” He said so softly he wasn’t sure if she heard him.

She did.

Picturing Loki being tortured by a titan made Y/N so angry. She hated the fact that someone had made him feel so terrible, forcing him to feel so much pain after everything that he had gone through. Hearing that he thought of her when he was going through it all broke her heart. If only she had been there, right by his side. 

“You didn’t deserve that, Loki,” She was surprised she was able to speak. Her lips were quivering as she tried to stay strong for his sake. 

Her words were warm. They pushed the cold he was surrounded by away. Perhaps she was right?

Loki pulled back ever so slightly, because he wanted to face her. When he did, he was surprised to see that she was holding back tears. He already had silent tears on his skin that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. What had he done to deserve her?

“I agreed to work for him,” He revealed, skipping ahead of time because there was no way he could’ve gone into details about the nightmare Thanos put him through. Most of the memories were dark, just barely there. It was like his mind didn’t want to remember the tiny details. 

“I saw places I didn’t know existed - far beyond the nine realms. I became friends with Nebula. She was Thanos’ daughter,” Loki wasn’t sure if they were quite friends, but she seemed to understand him despite her harsh words and mean attitude. Out of all the children, only Nebula had been someone Loki could tolerate. “We were supposed to find something. I suppose they were called the infinity stones.”

Y/N could’ve sworn she had heard someone mentioning them before, but it didn’t ring any bells now. It did make her curious. Why wouldn’t Thanos go seek them himself? “Did you find them?”

“Well, soft of, yes. Thanos sent me to Midgard to fetch the tesseract. In exchange I was going to be freed,” He explained why he had gone to New York. It had been quite recent, but it felt like so long ago. Loki had been so scared but incredibly determined to get the job done too. He thought it was the only way he’d ever get to see her again, and live a day without excruciating suffering. 

Y/N suddenly understood more than before. He hadn’t wanted to go to Earth out of his own will. He was on a mission to win his freedom. She wondered what had happened. Thanos didn’t have the tesseract, but Loki was right there by her side. Did it mean he was safe and free?

“I’m happy you’re here,” She let him know. Having Loki back was the greatest gift she could’ve ever asked for. Although the things that had happened on Midgard weren’t good, she wasn’t mad. She was more furious over the fact that Thor, and others who had done much worse things, pretended that Loki was some kind of villain and they were the heroes.

“I was so scared that Thanos would come here,” and I still am, he thought but left it out. “I failed to deliver the tesseract,Y/N. They…”Loki couldn’t say it. He blinked, and remembered the Other who had threatened him repeatedly. 

...If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can not find you. He will make you long for something sweet as pain… 

“You don’t have to say it,” Y/N noticed that he got lost in his memories again. She understood if some of them were too hard to speak of now. He had said so much already. It couldn’t have been easy for him. “You’re safe, you’re here with us again. We have all the time in the world to speak of this, one step at the time.”

Gosh, her words were keeping him sane. Loki was able to take a deep breath as he heard that, keeping himself grounded there. He wasn’t with Thanos, and he certainly wasn’t being harmed. He was in the arms of his wife and they were in the palace of Asgard with numerous guards and warriors outside their door. It was quite the resistance if Thanos or his children would show up.

“I think I’ll have to continue tomorrow, dear.”

“That’s okay, Loki. I understand,” She was so understanding.

As Loki looked at her, the daggers in his heart twisted. Thanos knew that she existed. Thanos also knew how to torture others, and the worst torture Loki could’ve possibly imagined was that Thanos would find her. There was no way he could ever let that happen. Loki knew he had to do something to get Thanos off his tracks. Could he make the titan believe he had died? It was something he had to think of sooner than later.

“I love you,” Loki had to voice his feelings. He caught her by surprise when he leaned in for a kiss, but she didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. This time it was sweet and tender. His hands cupped her face and the back of her head and it was sincere. The kiss was bittersweet. It tasted salty like their tears, but it was so passionate. They truly loved one another. 

When their lips parted, they stayed close. Their foreheads touched gently and they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s presences for a moment. They let reality sink in.

For the first time in months, Loki felt more like himself again. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was beginning to deal with his issues. There was hope for the future. 

“I love you too,” Y/N exclaimed after a while. She placed a sweet kiss on Loki’s neck, then another. There were so many kisses they had to catch up with. She wanted to touch him with love and kindness where others had hurt him, until there wasn’t a trace left of the others. 

And Loki wanted to be pampered by her, to get lost in her and forget about all the rest. 

His hands travelled down her side, slowly but surely making their way to her hips. Loki wanted her closer, but for the first time in so long, he didn’t know how to ask her. Usually, it was so easy to pull her in and take her, but not now. Everything felt so much more intimate and he felt slightly lost. It had been so long since the last time they had made love. 

She felt the way he touched her, so needy, silently asking her to get closer, so she did. Carefully, she straddled his lap which made it so much easier for her to hold him, to touch him and to kiss him. Loki’s hands never left her body as she sat on his lap. There was no rush whatsoever. They wanted to enjoy every little moment they could share. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Y/N wondered. After all, he had talked about quite heavy things. Was he in the right mindset? 

Loki almost yelled out how much he desired her, but managed to contain himself. “I need you, Y/N.” He needed to feel her, he needed to make her feel his love. He needed to be one with her. 

“Okay,” She quickly replied with a small smile. Once again, their lips met in a loving kiss. It felt wonderful. Between the kisses, she made sure to tell him sweet little nothings, “I’m here,” “I got you,” “Everything’s going to be okay.”

A/N: I hope you liked it! I originally planned on having fluffy smut in this, but it would’ve been so long. I’ll have to write sweet Loki smut separately in the future. Please leave your feedback. It always makes me so happy and it means a lot to me. Thank you!

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[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Can I request a Loki X female reader, his wife. There in bed sleeping and Loki has a nightmare that Thanos gets her and he's powerless to stop him, he wakes up and wakes her up to make sure she is okay but she isn't breathing and Loki has to help her. Unless it makes you uncomfortable 🙂

A/N: Sorry for the late response nony, I’ve been sick the last month and haven't had the time, or clear enough mind tbh, to write your request. But, anyways, here you have it, hope you’re ready for pure angst. (PSA; Includes near death experience which may be triggering for some)

Living Nightmare

Albeit the blade to his throat, Loki tried reaching forward. But it was useless, hence before he even could get close to you, he felt the edge of the weapon pierce his skin, making droplets of blood fall the length of his neck.

"Please, release her", his voice was meagre, as he for a second switched to look up at the capturer. He had thought he never would see him again, the warlord, Thanos. He had lived peacefully long before he even married you. But he thought, after the day he officially was able to call you his, maybe fate would've spared him his past crimes. But it seemed all had been an illusion, a play of his peaceful and neglecting mind. Because now he stood there, out of reach to save you in the titans grasp.

You looked so puny, with his long sworn enemy's hand fisted around your neck. He could see your stuttering breaths leave your chest, but as the titan let out a low rumble, a sound inclining he laughed, he heard a strangled gasp leave you.

"The almighty Loki, already begging", a grin crossed Thanos face as he flexed his fingers to ease his grip again. In the sound of you gulping down as much air as you could, he continued. "All because of a mortal, who had thought?" The titan turned you to him and immediately Loki saw your body tense, fear rolling off you in waves as your captor raised his other hand.

One of his fingers gently tucked a strand of your hair that had shielded your face behind your ear. The action made the god of mischief grit his teeth. He had no right touching you the way he did, clutching your throat, having the life of you in his hands. He owned even less right to touch you as gently and caring as he just had. But just as Loki was about to lash out, try and tear away from those holding him in place, Thanos made you face him again.

"You are at your wit's end, god of mischief", the titan clutched your throat harder once more. This time you couldn't stop your hands from flying up and trying to ease the grip. Loki saw the urgency burning brighter in your eyes now as they met his in a hurried glance.

"Darling, look at me, please look at me", he said as soon as your eyes started flitting around the space, in what he understood was waining faith. Nevertheless, the moment your gaze merged with his once more, he saw you calm the tiniest bit. "You'll be fine, I promise you", though you tried concentrating on his voice, the voice appearing beside your head drowned Loki's.

"Have you not learned everything coming from him is lies", it was like a snake hissed it in your ear, low and only for you to hear. You felt the giant's words etch itself into your gut, whilst your heart pained when hearing your lover be called something he never been with you. He was not a liar.

"No!" Loki screamed, seeing the way the sword pierced through your body. Your face scrunched up and halted the movement your mouth began, words dying before they left you. He saw the momentary shock spread over your futures as you followed the place he looked at.

Blood coated the blade red as your trembling hands touched the metal. The move was sluggish and when you looked up to him again, he noticed how your eyelids started closing. Blood dripped past your lips as your lungs seemed to fill with the red liquid. Despite all his urge to rush towards you, Loki couldn't do more than witness how the strength left your body as you swayed in your place.

Thanos must have noticed your rapidly lowering pulse or, more likely, the way you became too unsteady to hold yourself up, because he let go. The disappearance of the sole force holding you upright made you stumble forward. Your action made the blade slip out of you and immediately you clutched the wound. But it was no use, a flush of red passed your fingers and coated your steadily pailing limbs.

It was with a whimper and last pitying look at him, you fell. Time slowed down as Loki watch your body plunge forward, although the second you were to connect with the hard and unforgiving ground, everything froze.

With a start Loki jolted awake, sitting upright in the bed. He felt his shirt cling to his body, drops of sweat rolling down the nape of his neck. Which all together made his hair stick to his skin. His mind reeled, while his breath heaved, as he replayed the nightmare in his mind. You had died.

Swiftly looking to his side, he saw your slumped form resting beside him. You were there, unharmed.

"Love, are you awake?" His coarse voice was followed by a soft kiss on your shoulder as he leaned over your form.

It was something he always did when the nightmares plagued him, seeking refuge in your company. It was something about your caring touch and calming words that eased his mind. Thus it had become a routine. When he would awaken from horrors, he would also wake you up.

"Love?" Loki mumbled as you didn't stir from your sleep and kept being turned away from him. He knew you should've woken up by now because you were a light sleeper. But when seeing no reaction, a worry etched onto his features. "Y/N?" He gently pushed on your shoulder, so you turned to lay fully on your back.

As soon as you did, he saw your face. Instead of looking peaceful as it usually did when sleeping, it looked... emotionless. Cold. He felt his pulse quicken as his eyes started to flicker over your face until it travelled to your chest. It was then he noticed, it didn't move. It felt like someone dunked him in cold water as he jumped into a seated position.

"Do you hear me?" He gently patted the side of your face, but more than making it gently rock to the side, it didn't elicit any other reaction. "Y/N!" Loki shook your shoulders, the same panic he felt in his dream returning. Only now everything happening was real.

Without any hesitation, he leaned forward, closed his finger over your nose and connected his lips to yours. It was no kiss, but instead, a move of pushing his exhaled into your mouth. However, with a hasty glance towards your chest, he saw it still didn't move, so he moved to begin with compressions.

Come one darling, breath from me, the god continuously mumbled as he repeated the set of moves. However, no matter his tries, he never felt a change.

It was from pure dread of your unaltered state, he raked his brain for a spell or purely something to help you. Loki didn't know if it was from fear, or that he simply didn't have a spell that could work, but he fumbled fruitlessly through his memory.

"No, no, no!" His voice cracked as it entered a high pitch, flawed by the same fear he had in his dream. This couldn't be true, it couldn't, but it was. Despite his tries to help you nothing happened, for once, or maybe twice this night, the god of mischief felt helpless.

But then, suddenly, something happened. Loki felt how his breath didn't easily flow down to your lungs, but how a pressure met it. This made him retreat, lean away to watch you from where he knelt at your side.

It was violent, the way your chest suddenly heaved as you gulped down air, despite your throat turning it into a cough on the exhale. But it was a violence Loki couldn't but shred tears at, thus, at least it was a reaction.

Though the procedure repeated itself and showed no effects of decreasing the nearest future, you sat up. Immidielty your hand sought the god's, which he quickly gave to you. You clutched it hard enough for your nails to press half-moons into his skin, but he couldn't care any less.

What Loki focused on, however, was how he felt your chilled fingers returning to their natural temperature. He also noticed the colour returning to your face, even though it may have been more flushed than usually thanks to your jerking movement.

It was relief that flooded his body as he witnessed you slowly but surely regain your breath. He wanted to hug you, kiss you, thank you for returning to him. Though at the moment he could do nothing but stare silently.

Not until your arm lowered from clutching your chest, face turning to him, teary gaze meeting his, he crumbled. His hand released yours, to instead pulled you into a hug. Despite having thought it was gentle, Loki understood it hadn't when a huff left you. But what was important was that he didn't suffocate you. He felt your chest move against his and for each time it did, he felt blessed. Because at the moment, he couldn't let go, he simply couldn't. Not tonight, when he had both dreamt a nightmare and lived in one.

[nalgenewhore]

a simple life

essar x lorcan + kohana, canon divergence/canon era, domestic fluff/general fluff, word count: 2439

Lorcan wakes up in the morning and rolls over without opening his eyes. He searches across the comfortable mattress, mumbling his mate’s name. “Ess,” he rasps, hating the fact that she’s so far away. 

She isn’t usually this far when they sleep. Usually, Essar lays nestled in his arms, her curves, lush and heavenly so, fitting perfectly against him. When he still doesn’t find her, Lorcan sighs shortly and pushes himself up, cracking his eyes open. Her side of the bed is cool and the sheets are rumpled. 

It’s then that Lorcan realises it’s far brighter than usual. Nearing the midst of winter, most mornings are pitch black. He looks up, to the window, and sees the thick layer of snow that blankets their canvas-covered crops and the forest beyond the field. More flakes fall and Lorcan understands why Essar is not in bed with him. 

Ever since they first met, when they were still younglings, Essar has adored the snow. None of the wonder ever fades from the first snowfall of the season. 

Slowly, Lorcan gets out of bed. He grabs a heavy wool sweater and holds it in one hand as he pushes their door open. Across from their room, the nursery door is closed. Lorcan knows this means that their youngling hasn’t been woken yet. 

He pads quietly into their living room and sees Essar in the kitchen. She sits at the island. They made it by hand, like everything they own, like their cabin, too. A pot of  coffee rests on the wooden slab and Essar wraps her fine-boned hand around her favourite enamel mug. Their dishes are a few of the minimal objects they bought in the nearest town, as well as their weapons. 

She sips from it, her chin resting against her fist. Lorcan is forced to pause and drink in the sight of her, the way her longs legs are crossed and the way she leans her weight into her elbow, oblivious as she reads something he’s sure she’s read a thousand times over. 

He pulls his sweater over his head and leans against the wall, crossing his arms. A soft smile appears on his face. 

Once, this was never an option. Lorcan remembers how quickly he came to losing any chance of this, when he answered to Maeve. 

The queen’s command was once strong on him, stronger, perhaps, than any other blood oath. He could not deny Maeve a thing, the craving for her approval and validation a never ending ache. When he and Essar matured, and the mating bond connected the pair even more than they always were, Maeve didn’t respect it. 

It almost killed him, refusing Essar what she needed, what they both needed. 

One night, one night Essar had enough. Enlisting Dresenda, her sister, she broke him out of Maeve’s palace. They kept his head covered until they left the City of Rivers. Lorcan didn’t know where they were. Every step away from the queen pained him more, but he did it willingly, knowing that he would choose Essar over everything and everyone. 

It was excruciating to let the blood oath break, let it fester and rot away in his heart. When they knew that the only way Lorcan would survive it would be to make another blood oath, Lorcan swore it to Essar. 

“I can tell, you know.” 

Lorcan blinks, “Hmm?” 

Essar laughs that warm, pealing laugh of hers. “I can tell when you’re staring at me.” In their home, they don’t speak the common tongue, nor the Old Language. They use their own language, a seamless blend of their native tongues. 

She slips off of the stool and walks over to meet Lorcan in the middle of the room. He grins sleepily and wraps his arms around her, holding her in a tight hug. Essar sighs gently and melts into him. 

“Have you seen the snow yet,” he murmurs. “I thought by now you’d surely be building a snowman or a fort.” 

“No, not yet,” Essar says. “Our coconut has never seen snow.” 

Lorcan smiles and stands up straight, his hands resting on her hips. “True. How do you think he’ll take to it?” 

She tilts her head to the side and covers one of his hands with hers. Essar walks him to the counter and pushes him to the other stool. “Mmm, well, he’s far more adventurous than you grouchy bastard, so like his mother,” she teases, wearing a cocky grin that makes her canines flash. 

Lorcan snorts and takes his seat, glancing casually at the open book his mate is reading. His eyes widen for a second when he sees the smutty fiction, clear on the page. He picks it up and reads while Essar takes a mug from the cupboard for him. “He cups her heaving breasts and his throbbing length–”

“Lorcan!” Essar snaps, quickly grabbing the book from him and closing her, her cheeks pinking. “Don’t read my things.” 

“Oh, c’mon, I want to see what happens next with his throbbing length,” Lorcan pouts, his wicked smile shining through the feigned disappointment. Essar clicks her tongue and shakes her head, putting the book down on the counter. “Why haven’t you told me that you read that sort of thing? Is my darling mate feeling… otherwise unfulfilled?” 

She shoots him a glare as she pours him his coffee. “No and I didn’t tell you because it’s none of your business, mate.” Essar slides onto her chair and faces him, resting her feet against the spindle of his stool. She cups his face and leans forward, kissing him gently. Lorcan rests his hand on her tattooed thigh, his thumb stroking against her skin. 

Essar’s sharp teeth scraped against his lip before she swipes her tongue over the small hurt and steps onto the floor. She’s able to press herself tighter against him, hardly forced onto her tiptoes, and winds her arms around his neck, her hands toying absentmindedly in the air behind him. They kiss until she makes a soft noise and pulls back, resting her forehead on his. “Hi.” 

Lorcan chuckles and sneaks one last kiss, “Good morning, my love.” 

She sits herself back in her seat and Lorcan picks up his coffee. Just before when the sun would normally rise, they woke up to their hungered wails of the babe. Lorcan sat with her as she fed Kohana. He’ll sleep for a little while longer now, as he isn’t normally waking up anymore in the middle of the night. 

Lorcan makes them eggs and fries bacon, serving crusty buttered bread on the side. They eat quietly and as Essar gets up to clean the dishes, they hear a familiar curious coo. He stands and kisses her cheek, whispering, “I’ll get him.” 

Essar pauses him for a moment. She takes down his low bun and weaves a loose plait, securing the end with a piece of sinew rope. After, Essar returns to the dishes and Lorcan crosses the cabin, slowly opening the door to find their nine-month old standing in his crib, turned towards the window. His hands hold onto the top bar. 

The tips of his pointed ears poked through the soft hair on his head, jet black like that of his parents. Lorcan grins and walks to the side of the crib. Kohana turns his head, his eyes wide and confused. “Da-da.”

Lorcan chuckles and his heart clenches as he picks the little Fae up. “Hello, little one.” He pushes Kohana’s hair back and kisses the babe’s forehead. “Shall get dressed, hmm?” Lorcan walks to the dresser. He lays Kohana down and changes him, noting the way the youngling watches the snow, his hands caught in his mouth. 

Lorcan’s heart pumps stronger when Essar walks in, like their heartbeats are one. She peers over his shoulder and coos at the child, “Oh, hi, my little one.” Essar slips under Lorcan’s arm, pinching Kohana’s socked foot. Kohana squeals, his big bright eyes landing on his mother’s face. She laughs and picks him up. Essar presses her nose against his soft cheek and inhales, her hand cupping the back of his head. Kohana babbles, glancing out of the window again. “Oh, yes, I know. You’ve never seen snow, have you, coconut?” Essar bounces him and props him on her hip as she walks out of the room. 

Lorcan chuckles and shakes his head, tidying the area up. He joins his family and Essar feeds Kohana the mashed yams she made. Like always, Kohana devours it, eating anything his parents present to him. 

After, Essar puts Kohana on the soft blanket by the fireplace. She leaves him with a stuffed toy bear that was once hers and he holds onto it fiercely, chewing on one of its stubby legs. Essar goes into their room to change, emerging in rabbit fur-lined leather pants, tall boots, and a thick jacket over her warmer underclothes. Her Lorcan pours her the last cup of coffee and laughs when she pushes him towards the bedroom, “Gods, go change! We’re wasting time outside.” 

“He won’t even remember this,” Lorcan says, still dutifully following her commands and walking away. 

“I will,” Essar tells him, shooting him a glare. She kneels on the carpet in front of their baby and dresses him in his own fur-lined suit. She coos over him as she covers his head in a woolen hat and ties the strings beneath his round chin. Kohana kicks his feet out and bats the air with his little hands. Essar laughs warmly and lets the small amount of magic she has dance between her fingers. 

Kohana gasps, his mouth in a perfect ‘o’. He watches, giggling when the warm flame taps his nose and tickles his chin. Essar gasps softly when her mate’s familiar power wraps around her hips and joins hers. “Ma-ma,” the baby coos and smiles, his canines poking through his pink gums. 

Essar picks him up and stands, turning to see Lorcan. He shrugs on his hunting jacket and pulls his braid out. Lorcan wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into his chest, his eyes on Kohana. “Hi. Oh, hi, mičíŋkši. Look at you, how cute in your wee suit, hmm?” He passes Essar her thick winter mittens and a kiss to the side of her head, “You forgot these.” 

“Ah, my saviour,” Essar teases, tucking them in the large front pocket of her jacket. “Whatever would I do without you, hmm?” 

He rolls his eyes and says drily, “Don’t patronise me, my darling. We both know how capable you are. Now, the real question is what I would’ve done without you.” They both freeze, images of Lorcan, slave to Maeve, flashing through their minds. 

Essar pulls the collars of the shirts he’s layered down and kisses the claiming mark over his pulse, “Well, we don’t have to think about that, so let’s not.” Lorcan’s thumb presses against the corner of her hip, where a matching mark lies. Kohana makes a soft sound and they look at him, grinning happily. He’s not watching them, staring unfalteringly towards the snowy landscape. “Let’s go, yes?” 

Lorcan nods and they walk to the front door. He sits to put his own boots on and fixes Ko’s winter moccasins. Kohana frowns and kicks his feet, reaching towards the doors. He whines, looking back at Essar, “Mama.”

“I know, tāku iti kahurangi, we’re going, don’t worry,” she tells him. Lorcan takes Kohana so that his mate can put on her cloak and Essar pushes the door open. 

Lorcan stands on the threshold, waiting for a moment. He watches Essar and smiles, loving how happy she is. She crouches, pulling off one of her mittens. Her breath puffs around her face as she touches the fresh, untouched snow. Essar pushes her hood back and looks up, laughing joyfully, “Lorcan! It’s snowing.” She stands up and turns, taking his free hand in both of hers. Essar pulls him out, her eyes on the sky. 

“I see that,” Lorcan comments. He passes the babe to Essar so he can close their front door. 

When he turns back, Essar is crouching once more, helping Kohana stay upright. He reaches out, carefully, and touches the snow. He gasps, quickly pulling his hand back, “Mama.”

“Yes, it’s cold, isn’t it,” Essar agrees, looking up at Lorcan as he crouches beside her. She points upwards, “Look, do you see?” 

Kohana looks up, his round cheeks bright red. His big eyes track a snowflake as it floats down. It lands on the tip of his little nose and he gasps again, trying to walk away from it. He loses his balance and falls, landing on his behind. Lorcan and Essar watch him, waiting for his tears, but they never come. 

He laughs, clapping his hands. They smile and sigh in relief. Kohana pats the snow around him and giggles, kicking his legs out. “Dada,” he says. He chatters, trying to gather a handful of snow. He struggles and frowns, fidgeting in irritation. 

Lorcan calmly forms a snowball and presents it to the child, letting his power wrap around it. Kohana forgets what he’s trying to do and makes a grabbing motion. Essar leans against Lorcan as he gives the ball to Kohana and he wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

Kohana cups the ball and frowns slightly, lifting it to his mouth. He tentatively bites it and purses his lips, frowning harder. Essar chuckles and thumbs the melted snow from his chin, “I know, wee one, it’s cold, yes?” 

He eats some more and more, trying to fit the entire thing into his mouth. Lorcan huffs a soft laugh. Essar looks at him as he helps their youngling, who turns away and starts to crawl around, biting into the snow as he goes and eating it. There’s that spark of wonder in his eyes – the one that always makes her heart flutter. 

She lifts her hand to his cheek and turns his face to her. Lorcan arches a brow in question. “What is it? Why’re you looking at me like that?” 

Essar presses her lips to his and whispers, “I love you, Salvaterre.” 

He smiles softly and returns her embrace, “And I you, Tangaroa.” 

She turns her head when Kohana shouts and flashes Lorcan a smile before she stands up. Essar makes her way over to the child and Lorcan stands as well, watching for a moment. 

This simple life, their simple cabin – his mate and child safe, where he can protect them, it’s all Lorcan’s ever wanted in life. It’s everything he ever needs.

☽ ☼ ☾

an: i hope u guys liked this cause it was so much fun to write !! 

in all my fics i write essar as maori (her last 'tangaroa' is the maori god of the sea, lakes, rivers, and creatures that live in them) and lorcan as lakota !

Kohana is a Lakota name meaning 'swift'

translations: Mičíŋkši: my son in Lakota Tāku iti kahurangi: my little treasure in Maori

@mythicaitt @werewolffprince @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse  @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt  @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @autophobiaxx @silversprings28 @myshadowsingeraz  @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @ladywitchling @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @firestarsandseneschals @missnienna 

[rosy-wooyoung]

Husband series [6/8] | San

Word count: 6.1k (😳) Pairing: ex-husband! Jongho x single mom! reader x CEO! San Genre: fluff A/N: I love Jongho sm, i really hated writing him like that :( but CEO San,,, yes.

You had lived a good part of your life with Jongho. You met in high school, and you hated each other at first. However, since you had to work in partners in your chemistry lab, you learnt to appreciate each other and became friends. You were inseparable, making everyone believe that you were dating, due to your ways of behaving. The last year of high school was a particularly tough one for you, you were extremely sick and exhausted but kept on going to classes, Jongho being your daily motivation to get out of bed. If it weren’t to get your diploma at the end of the school year, you would’ve stayed in bed, trying to recover from your exhaustion of studying and living so far from your school. 

When you finally made it through, you had only two months of holidays to catch up with three years of poor sleeping and eating habits, when you would have needed years to get back into a healthy way of living. You were still very tired when you started university, but Jongho was here again to force you out of your comfort zone and tag along in lectures that you signed up for. At first, university looked and sounded remarkably interesting, but you didn’t last long. Even when Jongho was giving his best to make you feel happy and loved, your mind was still stronger. You had realised that the university universe and everything coming alone made you hate it. You felt like a failure because all your friends and classmates seemed to be able to make it through, whereas you dropped out after a semester there. Oh boy, you felt so alone and dumb for leaving university when you saw everyone around you was smart enough to pass their first year. Of course, you didn’t drop out because you were numb, - even if that’s what your brain was telling you -, it was just that university wasn’t your future. And there was nothing wrong with changing paths. You didn’t need to go to university to be successful in life, no. You just needed to find something that motivated you to get out of bed every single morning, and that was the toughest part for you.

Jongho was an incredibly supportive friend. He was always there to comfort you or reassure you when you felt at your lowest when you felt worthless and ugly. He took from his spare time to help you get ready for interviews, correct your applications, or just have a quick look over them. When you finally got a job, you looked and felt better. You were smiling more, enjoying life like you needed to, and came to realise something as well.

You were in love with your best friend.

And one night, where you were feeling bold at a party one of your college friends had organised, you got even closer to your best friend as if it were possible. You kissed that night, and you’ve never felt so good. 

“Gosh,” Jongho smiled after pulling away from the kiss, “it finally happened,” he mumbled, and you giggled, looking down to avoid his gaze. “I love you,” you declared, and your best friend almost lost his balance, leaning against the wall behind him, dragging you closer to him. “I think I love you more,” he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a rougher kiss.

And that night changed everything. Jongho made you see life at another angle, brighter and more positive. You felt loved, enough, and smart. He had a way to say things and take actions that made your head spin, still not used of the amount of attention you were getting.  After two, three, four years of dating, Jongho finally proposed and you got married a year later, on your fifth dating anniversary. Your fiancé wanted to make it memorable, so you got married at the beach, exchanging vows as the sun was setting in front of you. You still had butterflies in your stomach when you talked about this special day on the couch with your husband, late at night, not wanting to get up from the couch to go to bed.

However, everything went downhill when Jongho graduated from university and started working. You saw him less and less, meeting only late at night or extremely early in the morning as one came back or left to go to work. Your relationship was barely there, too tired to even get into actions or just make out. But hope started to show up. Jongho had been promoted to another part of his company, allowing him to rest sometimes and be there with you during the evenings. You knew that couples weren’t always on the bright side, there were ups and downs in every relationship, and it looked like you just got out of one down moment. But it was just a sunny spell among black clouds. 

One day, on your way to work, you felt a sharp pain in your lower belly, thinking that you were starting your period. You quickly walked to work and rushed to the bathroom, only to find your panties clean. No blood. You started thinking that maybe you ate something expired, but you remembered cooking things that only came from the store, so you were confused. You took medicine to soothe the pain, and it did. Only to come back twice harder a few hours later, in the middle of a meeting.  You were explaining a graphic on the screen to your colleagues as you began to feel dizzy. You cleared your throat and tried to keep your composure, only to have your boss asking you if you were alright. You didn’t even have time to answer that you blacked out and fell on the floor, your co-workers hurriedly rushing to take care of you.

You woke up a few hours later in a hospital room, a worried Jongho looking out the window. You mumbled his name, and he turned around, a serious look on his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” you looked at him, still a bit dizzy and confused as you had just woken up. When you processed his words, you were about to answer him when a doctor burst into the room with a file under his arm. “Miss—” “Ma’am,” your husband interrupted, correcting the doctor with a frown. “Amazing, you’re awake. I have great news!” He looked quite delighted, whereas your husband kept a marble face. It calmed the doctor immediately and cleared his throat, opening the file and readjusting his glasses. “You are pregnant with a little girl, and she perfectly healthy. However, you had an iron and water deficit, that’s why you collapsed at work this morning. You need to drink and eat more, not only for the baby but also for you.”

You were pregnant. You didn’t know if you wanted to burst out in joy or in tears. Should you keep it? Could you even abort, or was it too late?

“For how long I have been pregnant?” the doctor looked at you sceptically and looked at your husband, whose jaws were clenched.   “You… you didn’t know that you were expecting a child?” you slowly shook your head and he stood speechless, his gaze falling on the documents. “Oh for quite a while,” he said as he flipped the pages of the file, finally landing on the blood test results, “for a little over than 12 weeks.” He stated, and Jongho took his head in his hands.

“Haven’t you realised that you were pregnant? No sign of any symptoms?” “No,” you muttered as your gaze never left your husband, “I noticed that I gained a bit of weight, but it wasn’t truly alarming.” “And your menstruations?” “I’ve had irregular periods my entire life, I didn’t think that I’d get pregnant since we always use protection.” You sighed at the same time as Jongho, and the doctor briefly looked at him. “Alright, I’ll let you talk together for a while, but you can go out of the hospital when you'll be able to pee,” he said, and you nodded, thanking him as he left your room.

You could see that Jongho was stressed and mad. You never thought that he’d react like that, he was always happy to take care of children. You remembered the last time you saw his sister, he was the proudest uncle you’ve ever seen, taking care of his nephew, allowing his sister to rest and talk with her parents for a while. Children were safe with your husband, yet you weren’t so sure about yours now. Why did he have to react that way?

“Y/N, do you want this child or not?” he said as he leant on the wall, near the window. He opened it, and you shivered, bringing the thin sheet closer to your chest. “It’s too late to abort anyway,” you said, without looking at him. “That wasn’t even my question,” he spoke, and you looked at him. “Why are you reacting like that? Didn’t you want to have children together?” “It’s too early Y/N, too early,” he said as he dragged a hand over his face. You shrugged, deep down feeling ready to become a mother. Jongho, on the other hand, wasn’t ready at all. “But when you played with your nephew, you looked—” “Y/N! It’s not my child, I only took care of him for a few hours! It’s not the same!” Jongho let out his frustration and started raising his voice, barely recognising him. “Calm down, honey, please,” “How do you want me to calm down? You’re pregnant with my child, and you expect me to react well?” “Well, yes! We’ve been together for so long, you should be ready, right?” “Then no, I’m not. I need to think about it,” he said and stormed out of the room, leaving you alone in your bed. You sighed, beaten, and pushed the covers, walking to the toilet with some difficulties. You had to press the emergency button because you struggled to get up from the toilet seat, a nurse rushing in to help you. You were still quite weak, and Jongho wasn’t there to help you out.

He didn’t show up at your shared house during the next week, worrying you that something bad happened to him. A few days later after your hospital exit, you received a message from your sister-in-law, telling you that her brother was safe and hiding at home, hoping that you were alright. You were struggling alone, to the point where you had to call your good friend Hongjoong to the rescue.

“Where’s Jongho?” was the first thing your friend asked, and you shrugged. “Hiding at his sister’s house,” you said as you grabbed light groceries from your car trunk, only to have Hongjoong snatching them from your grip with a playfully stern look. “Don’t carry anything, it’s bad for the baby,” you shook your head and laughed, unlocking the front door of your house. “I’m not that far into the pregnancy,” you argued, but your friend was having none of it. “Still, you need to be careful,” he returned as he placed everything on the counter, opening the fridge as you changed the topic.

“Your wife is okay about you helping me out?” “She’s the one that pushed me out of the door when I told you that I was coming here,” you smirked at his words and poured yourself a glass of water. “She’s so excited to be an aunt, she’s trying to get me into action too,” you laughed, trying not to spill your drink as Hongjoong closed the refrigerator door with a smile. “Really?” “Yeah, she’s been acting up for quite a while.” “By the way, I was thinking about asking the two of you to be the godmother and godfather for her, what do you think?” “Are you joking? It’d be amazing!” “I just need to speak with Jongho about it, but I don’t think he’ll be against it,” he nodded and softly hugged you, careful to not squish you in his arms. Hongjoong and his wife got married a few months before your wedding, and they were still going very strong, admiring them for loving each other so unconditionally. “He’ll eventually come back to you, I promise,” he said as he softly rubbed your back as you walked him to the door, shrugging at his words. “I hope so,” you said and grabbed your car keys, swiftly putting on a pair of slippers to drive him home.

You had to wait a few more weeks to finally see Jongho showing up at the door. Internally, you were relieved that he was back, but you were also quite mad at him. He reacted quite badly, it wasn’t something usual from Jongho. He was timid every time that you were around as if he was finding a way to apologise. You eventually forgave him, and he was more comfortable walking around the house, helping you out with everything and taking care of you.

You welcomed your daughter Areum a few months later, Hongjoong and his wife paying you a visit as soon as they heard the good news. His wife was head over heels for your sleeping little girl, softly caressing her cheeks with the tip of her finger. Hongjoong smiled but rolled his eyes at her behaviour, earning a soft giggle from you and your husband. You were still quite tired from giving birth, so you fell asleep as your two friends were talking with your husband. Months following her birth were hectic, but you would do it all over again if you had to. Of course, you were exhausted, lacking sleep and energy, but at least your daughter was happy and healthy. Jongho helped you a lot, getting up instead of you when he could, changing diapers and sheets when it was necessary. 

However, you and Jongho started to not get along as well as before. You had different manners and ways to take care of your daughter, which sometimes erupted into arguments and screams through the house. 

“Shouldn’t you—” “What?” you annoyingly yelled another time, voice almost breaking, “what should I do, huh? Tell me about it? Tell me what to do, as if you were the mother. How dare you to give me advice when I almost needed to beg you to come home? You left me alone for over two months, just because you “weren’t ready”. What the hell is that shitty excuse? You left like a coward, and now you think that you can give me advice?” “Don’t get on your high horse, Y/N, it’s just that my sister—” “Your sister, always your sister! If she’s so fantastic about everything then leave and go live with her! I’m tired of constantly hearing about her, you talk about her all the goddamn time! You’re always talking about her, damn it if you want to raise a child her way go impregnate another bitch and leave me alone!” you spat as you took your crying daughter in your arms, eyes welling up with tears. “We’re either in this together, or I do it alone, it’s you and me, not you, your sister and me. I’m your wife, it’s our child, and WE get to decide how we bring Areum up. Not her.” You shushed your daughter in your arms as you made your way to your bedroom, blocking the door right after closing it.

One night, a pretty useless fight broke between you two, almost coming to blows. You really had to protect yourself from exploding, but it was the last straw. Out of pure anger, you looked at Jongho dead in the eyes and threw your wedding ring on the floor, hearing it break on the floor and slide under the counter.

“If you’re not willing to change,” you said, pointing your forefinger towards your husband, trying to keep your composure but miserably failing, “then I’m leaving.” You ended your sentence through gritted teeth, and the last thing that you see is the widening look Jongho was giving you. You grabbed your daughter from her highchair, cleaning her hands and bib before scooping her in your arms. She looked at you with pearly eyes, and you kissed her forehead while whispering reassuring words to her, wiping her tears with the back of your hand.

Jongho grabbed your shoulder with a bit more strength than usual, forcing you to turn around. He was clutching your ring in his other hand, his gaze fixed on you.

“Y/N, we’ll make this work,” “Do you realise how many times you’ve told me this? Mmh? Do you remember how many times we tried, and it still doesn’t work? Have you realised that?” "I do, but—” “No Jongho, I’m done, you’re making everything worse now,” you swatted his hand away from your shoulder and entered your bedroom, locking it behind you. You placed your daughter on the bed and draped her in the covers before sliding down on the floor, back resting against the mattress, and you cried. You don’t know how many hours you spent sat next to your daughter, but you woke up the next morning with your head near your daughter’s feet on the bed, along with a painful backache. She was staring at you, trying her hardest to pat your head from her spot. You softly grabbed her hand and laid a soft kiss on it, placing it on your cheek.

A few months after this last fight, everything was ended with your husband, and you’ve never felt so relieved. Your now ex-husband kept the house as you decided to be the one to move out. You looked at Jongho one last time before entering your car, driving off without looking back. Managing to find a place closer to your favourite couple’s house, who helped you move in and take care of your daughter, you were starting to get even happier. They loved looking after Areum because they could practice for their future potential child. Once you arrived unannounced at their house and noticed Hongjoong’s wife in the garden. She made big gestures to not ring the bell because her husband was taking a nap with your daughter on the couch.

Areum was treated like a princess when she was over their house, they took very good care of her, and it warmed your heart. It was relieving to know that your daughter was safe with your friends, they took their role of godmother and godfather seriously.  When you entered the living room, Hongjoong was laying on the sofa with your daughter on his chest. You sat down next to your friend and took your daughter in your arms, laying a soft kiss on her cheek as she was still sleeping. You placed her head on your shoulder, and Hongjoong’s wife replaced your daughter in her husband’s arms, only to have Hongjoong waking up. You waved goodbye at them after putting her in her baby seat, walked to your car and drove home.

After a few weeks, you managed to take your mark around the neighbourhood and succeeded in finding a job. You’ve heard about this company before when you were still with Jongho. You remembered how great he spoke about it, how hard it was to get in, and you made it just by applying as a secretary.  Your work was quite dense, but you’ve gone through worse in the past. Of course, you had bad days, but it was normal. Even your boss, Choi San, could have the worst days ever.

This man was young, yet one of the most powerful men in the city. He owned three big companies around the neighbourhood, making his wealth expand more quickly than his opponents. And you happened to be his secretary, managing his appointments, meetings and maintaining files. You were also sending emails, answering phone calls, or arranging travelling arrangements, and your boss found you extremely skilled. He was never disappointed in what you did, always here to make his life better and easier. One night, you quickly phoned Hongjoong, asking him if it was okay for them if you came to pick your daughter up a bit later in the evening.

“I have an unexpected meeting to attend, and I can’t miss it,” you said, and you heard your friend chuckle.  “It’s okay Y/N, come over when you're free,” you sighed in relief and thanked your friend before hanging up, rushing back to work. The meeting was in a few minutes, and you still had things to print and arrange.

Fortunately, you stapled the last documents together when your boss appeared from his office. He offered you a smile, and you grabbed the files, leading the way to the conference room.  The meeting went well, but all of your colleagues, as well as the boss, only wanted one thing; to go home. Even your boss started discreetly yawning as his father spoke to him discuss strategies and ways of earning more money. Sitting in front of the CEO, you exchanged quick eye rolls and chuckles as he imitated of his father.

“San,” the growling voice of his father interrupted his little game, making him clear his throat, “a little bit of seriousness, please,” “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, trying to stay as neutral as possible.

Once the meeting was finally over, everybody got out of the conference room, only leaving you and San behind. You gathered all the documents and cleaned the wooden table, ready to be used tomorrow.

“Can I offer you a drink tonight?” San suggested, and you almost dropped your files, not expecting this coming out of the CEO’s mouth.

“I think I have plans tonight,” you said a bit hesitantly, and San’s eyes tried to read through yours. “Come with me, I promise it won’t be long.” “Alright,” you nodded, and so did he, walking out of the room with a quick smile.

You swiftly took your phone and sent a message to Hongjoong.

[You] : My boss invited me for a drink, is it okay for you? [Joongie] : Don’t worry about it Y/N, enjoy your “drink” with your boss 😉

You huffed at your friend’s words but went back to your desk anyway, shutting everything down and grabbing your purse. Your boss was waiting for you in the hallway, greeting you with a smile as he called the elevator.

The bar he brought you to was quite chic, I mean, what could you expect from him. You were starting to get comfortable around him, even if his bossy attitude was still present. You started talking about your centre of interests, work, and his father. It didn’t feel ambiguous, and you thanked the gods for that. You parted ways with a handshake near your car, making sure that you were safe and fastened in it before leaving you to go to his.

As the weeks went by, San started becoming friendlier to you, sometimes even at work. You tried to shush him with a stern look, but he simply shrugged. He didn’t seem to care, but you didn’t want your colleagues to start imagining random things or rumours about you and your CEO. He was a handsome man, people would kill to get your post, so they wouldn’t hesitate to intensify the rumours if they were to hear some about you. In this world, everything is allowed, even if it means to spread false rumours about someone to try and get to their job. But San didn’t seem to mind. Of course, he was the big boss’ son, what could happen to him? Nothing, exactly, except if he made a big mistake, but flirting with his secretary wasn’t one of them. It’s not that his flirting was annoying and unpleasant, - rather on the contrary, if you were being honest -, you just didn’t want to risk your job for childish behaviours with your boss. You almost had a few heart attacks when he randomly came at work with a huge bouquet of flowers in hand, gathering everybody’s attention as he walked past your colleagues. You always had to justify yourself that they were on your desk, in a vase, because he was allergic to them and he didn’t want them in his office. Of course, it was for his mother, who would – never – come to pick them up. He apparently loved to see you all blushing and struggling to give an explanation when a co-worker appears at your desk, eyeing the flowers as they saw them in the CEO’s hand a few hours prior. You liked your boss, but sometimes, you hated him. 

This flirting went on and on for the next few months until you reached your first year of working in the company. You were so proud that you’ve made it this far and you truly hoped that you could keep on working there as long as possible. With your income, you managed to move out another time and buy a bigger place, offering a bedroom to your daughter, as well as a small playing room linked to it, you were both in heaven.

“Y/N, at what time do we need to go to the tailor for the next week’s event?” San asked you as you took your breath to speak to him. “At 2pm, sir,” you said with a smile, opening a new tab on your computer. “Will you come along?” he asked and you shook your head, typing something on your keyboard as you looked up at him.  “I need to lead this afternoon’s meeting since you won’t be there,” he slowly agreed, a veil of disappointment showing in his eyes.  “Okay, make sure to keep me updated on that,” it was your turn to agree, and he added, “see you later,” before shooting you a wink, your breath sticking in your throat. You shook your head as soon as he left, getting amused at his behaviour.

The day of the big event finally arrived, and everyone was stressed, especially you. You spent your days driving between the company and the place where the event would take place, coordinating and leading everything to make sure that everything would arrive in time and be well done.  On that night, you greeted people at the entrance, guiding them through the hall, sitting them at a specific table, your colleagues taking the lead. Hongjoong and his wife showed up with your daughter, placing them at a strategic place where you could see them, but San couldn’t. Your daughter looked extremely cute with her pinkish dress and her small ballet flats, softly dancing along with the jazzy music that was played. You managed to free yourself from your boss to come and quickly kiss her on the cheek, happy to see her.

“So that’s San, right?” Hongjoong asked as you hugged them. “That man over there?” his wife asked, eyes glowing. “Yes, that’s my boss,” you said with a shy smile, making sure that your hair was well fixed. “Y/N, you have a very good taste in men, damn,” she said, and you laughed, earning a side glance from Hongjoong. “I need to go, but if you could please keep it on the low, he doesn’t know about anything, and I don’t particularly want to explain everything tonight,” they nodded and kept your daughter close to them. You hugged them one last time as a colleague gestured to come back, waving one last time to your friends before hurrying back to the entrance. 

The event was going extremely well. You were a bit nervous to go on stage with San, you weren’t used to speaking in front of so many people, but you imagined yourself being in a conference room and it went a bit better. San’s presence next to you was reassuring, smiling at your friends as it was his turn to speak. Your eyes scanned the room, recognising a few loyal clients, offering them a warm smile. However, your smile instantly vanished as a familiar figure appeared in your field of vision.

Jongho was here, sat at a table with a few of his co-workers, as well as his boss. You didn’t remember sitting them at a table, and you got confused. You mindlessly applauded along with the crowd as your boss finished his speech, but you couldn’t put your heart to it, your mind too preoccupied with something else. 

You made sure that your boss’ microphone was turned off before telling him about your trouble.

“Tell me, that table n°15, I don’t remember inviting them,” you covered your mouth as you leant towards his ear, his eyes focusing on that said table. “They weren’t supposed to come, but they sent me a text that they finally could. Jihae sat them at this table.” You slowly nodded, and your eyes met Jongho’s, a pang in your chest made it suddenly hard to swallow. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Your boss asked, laying a reassuring hand on your arm. You nodded, but San’s eyes squinted and dragged you away from prying eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong,” his voice trailed, and you took a deep breath, worrying him, “you’ve been feeling bad since we talked about that table. Is there a man around it that made you feel uncomfortable?” “There is my ex-husband, I mean, my ex-boyfriend sat at that table,” you corrected yourself as San’s eyes widened at “husband”, making you look in his eyes. “Your ex-husband?” you nodded, and he sighed, looking up to check if anyone was spying on you. “I didn’t know we were doing business with him, I would’ve told you about it earlier if I knew,” you mumbled, and San shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Are you okay now or do you want to take a walk outside?” “I think I'll be fine,” you said, avoiding his eyes as you weakly smiled. San didn’t like that your mind was elsewhere; he felt like he couldn’t help you, and that’s exactly what was currently happening. You briefly smiled at him as you cleared your throat, slowly walking away from him.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you turned around, your focus finally on him. “Yes?” “Is there something that you’re not telling me?” you almost took a step back but refrained yourself from doing so, but San caught it. You slowly shook your head with a smile, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered, voice wavering, heels clicking on the floor as you fled from his questioning.

You found solace in your friends’ presence, as well as your daughter’s. It was nice to have them here, but you weren’t as comfortable as you wished you’d be when your ex-husband was on the other side of the hall. Hongjoong acted as a control tower, innocently looking around regularly to see if Jongho would randomly show up.  San observed everything from afar, wondering which one of the three men could be your former husband. He doubtfully eyed them, everything clicking when one of the men and the young child you were carrying in your arms laughed at the same time.

They had the same smile. Both slightly throwing their head back as they laughed. There was no doubt left. It was your ex-husband, and that little girl was your daughter. He deeply sighed as he discovered the truth on his own, a bit disappointed that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him everything. 

“Dad, when you have a rough past, would you say it to your boss?” “Why that question? I’m your boss,” he remarked as he munched on the lobster. San hadn’t touched his plate, his focus shifting from Jongho, your daughter and you, who was sitting at a table not far from him. You were fake laughing with your colleagues and praising the food you had on your plate. He knew it was a fake laugh, because it wasn’t as melodious as it were when you were together. He had the habit to crack a few jokes here and there, your laugh being the most beautiful music he’s ever heard in his life.

“Just asking,” he said as he stabbed the rib steak with his fork, eyes never leaving your table. “I wouldn’t immediately say it to my boss, but I wouldn’t hide it either,” his father said after a few minutes sat in silence, which surprised San. He nodded and thanked his dad, who was suspiciously eyeing him. “You’re mysterious sometimes,” his father said as he shook his head, gulping a sip of red wine from his glass. “I know,” his son mindlessly answered and the father looked at his son as if he had gone completely crazy. San’s eyes never left the table your friends sat at, your daughter enjoying her precious time with your friends.

Areum took so many facial features from you, she looked like a mini version of you. She had traits that he didn’t recognise, probably coming from her father side. She looked well brought up, quiet and shy when people gently waved at her. 

You looked up from your wine glass and noticed San staring on his right, his eyes shifting to you, a light smirk tugging on his lips. You raised your glass with a smile, trying to show him that you were feeling better. He looked deep in thought, and that’s when you realised that he probably understood everything. Slowly, you turned around to look at where he was looking, and you met the sparkling eyes of your daughter, who enthusiastically waved at you with a smile. You winked at her and waved back, sending her a flying kiss. Turning around to look at your boss again, he gestured you by the head to stand up, to which you did. You waited for him to excuse himself from his father and you went together to your friends’ table.

There was no point in hiding anymore.

“Hongjoong, Hyunjae, this Choi San, my boss,” you said as Hongjoong’s eyes widened, swiftly swallowing what he was in his mouth. Hyunjae patted her mouth dry before smiling at the two of you. “And this is Areum, my daughter,” you said almost embarrassed, but Hyunjae looked at you with a comforting smile. San kneeled down to be at your daughter’s level, who kicked her legs in the air, getting shy in front of your boss.

“Hello, Areum,” he quietly said, and your daughter looked up when he mentioned her name, smiling when she saw the grin on his face. “Hello,” she shyly said, you and Hyunjae softly cooing at her behaviour. He shook her tiny hand, and she finally dared to look at him in the eyes, as you had taught her to do when you shook hands with someone. San chuckled at her behaviour and played with her leg, shocking everyone when Areum made grabby hands at him. You looked at Hyunjae, bewildered, and she had a hand covering her mouth. San smiled, scooping her in his arms, standing back up. Areum’s tiny arm was wrapped around his neck, and she looked at the crowd from his height. Your boss softly tickled her belly, only to have her shrieking and sinking her head in his neck. He laughed along with her, and so did you, the nervousness leaving your body as your boss teased your daughter. Hyunjae smirked at you, and you waved her off, trying to get your daughter back, but she refused to leave his arms. 

“She’s the cutest,” San mumbled, and you chuckled, following him as he started walking away from your friends’ table. They motioned you to go along as you weren’t moving, Hongjoong slightly pushing you to get into action. You found a bit strange the path that San was following, but you soon realised that it was strategic. Out of nowhere, he grabbed your hand and made you walk near the exit, your linked hands in a great display to your ex-husband. They stared at each other, yet didn’t say anything, but San made it clear to your ex-husband that there was no chance for him to have you back.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered in your ear, and you shivered, squeezing his hand with a nervous smile. “What? Really?” you said, trying to focus on him and not Jongho. “I think your daughter already adopted me, I have no other choice but date you,” he smirked and, once you were out of anyone’s field of vision, he swiftly kissed your cheek as if he was sealing his love for you, making your daughter laugh, getting tickled another time by your boss.

You couldn’t believe it.

[wastelandcth]

Under the Stars - cth

summary: the fall weather brings a moment of peace for dovey and calum and promises for the future. 

author’s notes: welcome to fall/halloween blurbs with the hoods! these aren’t going to be in any kind of order or anything like that, just little moments in time for the hoods during fall. hope you enjoy!

warnings: dovey and call are stressed out. 

masterlist || request

The cabin was surrounded by trees, far away from any sort of paparazzi, fans, or anything to do with fame. It was calm and quiet and the fireplace was the only noise that Calum could hear for miles. He'd decided on a trip away from the city, somewhere up in the mountains where the trees would've changed colors by now and where the air was crisp.

He'd found the cabin earlier in September when the weather in the city was still too high and the air conditioning unit was still on max. He'd told Dovey about the trip and then a few weeks later, he was picking her up at her apartment and driving them off into the mountains. It was a nice cabin, big enough for the two of them and Duke to run around and enjoy the cool weather. The main room had floor to ceiling windows that showed off the mountainside that was covered with yellows and oranges.

Dovey had spent the first two hours that they'd arrived sat out on the front porch staring off into the distance, taking in the views. Calum knew that she had been having a rough couple of days at work, projects becoming stressful, and days off becoming shorter and shorter. Somedays Calum would text her after work and wouldn't receive an answer until early the next morning when she'd woken up on her couch only to repeat the day over again. She'd shown up at his house one of those days, too exhausted to make the long drive to her apartment than to his house. She'd fallen asleep in his arms that night, whispering how she wished she could see the stars at night but at this point, she got home too late and she was too tired to stand outside and stare at the sky.

As the sun went down in the early hours of the evening, Calum found himself looking up from the book he'd been reading for the past hour or so. He found himself alone in the living room with the back door open, letting the chill inside. It took him a minute to return back to reality, back to the cabin in the mountains and not the dreamscape of the dystopian futures, but he stepped out into the chill and pulled the sleeves of his sweater to keep out the cold.

"What're you up to, sweet girl?" his voice felt like it was someone else’s, his throat clearing and trying to make it his own again. "Didn't even realize you had left me alone in my book." he chuckled and took a seat next to her.

"I wanted to look at the stars," Dovey said quietly, her gaze never drifting from the sky above.

The stars were brighter out here than in the city. With no light pollution, they shone like they were meant to and were in the thousands, maybe millions. It took Calum's breathe away, looking up into the past and thinking about just how many people had looked up to the same stars. His eyes moved over to look at Dovey, a fond smile on her face as she watched the night sky.

"I missed them. Missed the way they look when it's dark. Ever since I moved to LA it's been less and less actual stars and just weird celebrities." she mumbled and sighed, pulling the cardigan she was wearing closer to her body. "I think we both needed something like this, yeah? A little getaway from the city life and the stress of life." she laughed quietly, resting her head on Calum's shoulder.

It was true, Dovey had been stressed over pretty much everything that had to do with work these past couple of weeks. Calum had been stuck in meeting after meeting about the latest album release and he'd barely had any time to relax without a phone call here or an email there to bring back the ever-present headache he hadn't managed to get rid of. But the cabin was peace and quiet, it was everything Calum had needed. He could get lost in the book he'd brought or he could go on a hike in the mornings and clear his mind. He felt lighter like he could be whoever he was meant to be. He loved the cabin and he knew that he was going to come back.

They'd fallen asleep wrapped up in blankets and in each other's arms. The cold air coming in from the open windows in the morning, pulling Dovey closer into Calum's arms as the birds chirped away. They seemed to move slower that day, both of them leaving lingering touches and kisses that seem to last a few seconds too long. But eventually, they found themselves in the car with the promise of coffee and bagels for breakfast. The memories of fall leaves and starry nights would forever be cherished between them both and a promise that whenever things got too much they'd find their way back.

As the cabin got smaller in the rearview mirror, Calum felt more relaxed than he had when he first arrived. He felt more connected to Dovey, more connected to himself and to the stars. He couldn't wait to come back year and year again. He couldn't wait to keep his promise to Dovey and bring her back whenever life got too much. And that's exactly what he did, especially when the little ones arrived. Charlie loved nature, he loved going on hikes with Calum and telling him fun facts about all the trees and animals they found. Eloise loved collecting leaves of all different colors and making pictures with Dovey during the day. But Calum's favorite part of bringing his family back to the cabin that he and Dovey had found so many years ago was being bundled up under a blanket and looking up at the stars above them.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Four Seasons Pt. 1 out of 4 - Spring

After the pretty vague request of a sweet little Anon:

Pt. 1 - Blooming Love

Summary: Collection of shorts about how you spent a surprisingly normal year at the Stark Tower with the Avengers - except for the fact that you somehow got the God of Mischief to take a liking to you.

Warnings: None. No kinky shit, sorry guys. No Angst either. Just pure Fluff.

Words: 2880

(I think I’ve wrote everything gender neutral but I’m not sure. Maybe I forgot sth, let me know!)

Masterlist to my other Fics right ->Here<- 

On a morning ike this, it was hard for you to be asleep for too long.

Rays of sun had already softly woken you up, reminding you that this day would be a special one.

Even though you would’ve loved to sleep late on your day off, your racing heartbeat pumped adrenaline through your veins the very moment your lover’s image shot into your head.

He was the last thing you thought of when you’d close your eyes, and the first thing when a new day began.

Still a bit sleep drunk, you did your usual morning stretches and enjoyed a long shower before you tried to make yourself looking as formidable as possible.

Wandering along the still empty streets of New York, you enjoyed the relaxing silence, while whistling carelessly together with the birds in the trees.

Colours, sounds, even thoughts - that feeling when you were in love, it made everything seem even brighter.

It sounded ridiculous, really - but you had been invited for brunch with the Avengers.

When you arrived at the giant sky scrapper, you’d rummage in your bag to get the ID card Tony handed you and shoved it into the face of the security guard.

“Welcome, Y/N” a robotic voice you recognized to be F.R.I.D.A.Y. greeted you, “But I have to inform that you’re quite early. The other team members are still fast asleep.”

“I’m not a team member” you thought to yourself as you smiled into one of the security cameras, as means to greet it back. The lower floors were completely empty on sundays, being mostly offices and other rooms made for Tony’s employees.

Walking through the pomporous entrance hall, seeing so many monitors and advertisment (of which most of it was Tony’s self-glorification), you could only think about how all of this was way too flashy, too modern for your taste, but well...

That’s just Tony’s taste. His home, his rules. And to a certain extend, you thought, giggling audibly, Loki and him were alike - both full of pride and, if you wanted to be mean, you could say they were little showoffs.

And since last time when you invited them to your flat they almost destroyed everithing during their friendly little strenght battles, you thought it’d be better if from now on you’d become the visitor instead.

“I wonder what Loki’s room looks like” you pondered when the lift was making it’s way upwards to the highest levels.

You walked straight through the giant living room, trying to sneak past the God of Thunder, who seemed to have fallen asleep while watching Netflix and playing Video Games the whole night - again.

Letting out a little sigh, you closed the kitchen door behind you and asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play some music as you started to collect the needed kitchen utensils.

Good thing Bucky bought everything you asked of him. Going grocery shopping sounded so easy for every normal human being, yet to Bucky, it was part of his rehabilitation process and you knew it didn’t came easy to him to be in great crowds of people, all by himself.

So you were really relieved that your worries seemed to have been unnecessary.

Actually, Tony wanted to just buy something for breakfast. You’ve never heared of a brunch delivery - even though in your mind it was a damn good idea - but you guessed it was nothing unusual for a man that rich.

He could probably get anything he wanted by just waving his hand - another thing he and Loki had in common, only through different ressources.

But well, it didn’t really feel like work to you. Putting a little effort into telling your newfound friends “Thanks for having me”, was almost as much fun to you as actually spending time with them.

You loved showering those you care about with love and attention, which was probably why you were simply made for that touch-starved, affectionate alien.

Soon, your hum turned into loud singing as you swept across the kitchen counter and prepared all kinds of food. Hours rushed past and still no sign of life from the others, but you didn’t care.

Suddenly, you heared a loud snort coming from the doorframe, startling you to an extend that made you stumble together with a bowl filled with strawberries.

You had already protectively covered your head with your hands - but were confused when you didn’t feel yourself hit the ground.

Looking up, there he was, giving you his usual, smug grin - Loki.

He was holding you tight with his one arm, and even caught the bowl with his other, not even one berrie having hit the ground.

“Oh my” he started, “How clumsy you are.”

The god put the plate on the table and gently helped you get back on your feet, holding your hands thight.

Immediately, you felt your head getting as red as the fruit, finding yourself at loss for words.

He still held your hand, leading one of them to his lips so he could place a tender kiss onto it’s back. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Your shocked features relaxed and you gave him a warm smile as response. “It’s okay, darling.” He secretly loved that nickname - but that’d remain his little secret.

“But why didn’t you wake me up?” While you were already working again, having seen the time, Loki would aimlessly walking besides you. “At least let me help.”

Without you even having time to answer, just a flick of his fingers made the silverware reappear at the table.

“I didn’t know a prince would know how to cook. And also, I didn’t want to bother you that early.” At first he thought you were joking, but it seemed like you really didn’t know much about him.

After all, you’ve only been a couple for a short period of time. It’s only natural that you don’t know such details about life in the palace.

All that was part of his past, and you always said that his future was your privilege.

~

It was love at first sight, if one believed in that kind of thing.

You were invited to one of Tony’s “reputation-boosting” parties. As a member of one of New York’s greatest newspapers, it was only naturally for you to get invited.

There you were, a fresh reporter, standing in the same room as this surreal troup. Since you mostly worked from home, writing columns and being responsible for a small part of the newspaper’s website, working in the field didn’t come quite naturally to you.

But that shouldn’t ruin your evening.

Everything on you looked stunning, and you knew it.

The wardrobe you chose for tonight, the way you made you hair - it all was perfect for a celebration this formal.

Usually, you didn’t really give a damn about other people’s opinions, and neither you were one to judge someone’s outer appearance.

No, you rather did this for yourself. To boost your confidence, make this special occasion worth remembering.

You were shining, like a shooting star or a freshly polished diamond - and someone else noticed.

Many glances got stuck on you that evening, with one exceptional one glued to you without you noticing .

Until you disappeared to the bar, he basically stared holes into your back. And that man was a mastermind at magic tricks, so even though you were watching him as well, you’d never realize that your eyes met so many times before.

On Asgard, Loki had attended countless of such gatherings. Yet this one was sheer boring - not to talk about the fact that estimately 90% of the people in this hall would either want to see him rotting in jail, or worse.

So he just stood there, nipping on his drink as he stood at the edge of the troup, his brother being at the very center. Everyone was giving interviews or talked to fans, while he patiently waited for this event to be over.

“I’m sorry” a voice directed to him all of a sudden, carefully tapping his back. It was you.

“What?” he retorted, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t mind a magnificent beauty as you approaching him, but it was a mistery why you’d do such a thing.

“Could...umm...would you take a selfie with me? Please?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he saw your pleading eyes, shyly trying to avoid meeting his as you crossed your arms behind your back. “Only if you want to, of course.”

When he took in your appearance, he took notice of the journalist pass around your neck - and it was even more interesting than your unexpected request:

“You areY/N Y/L/N?”

“Y-Yes. Why?” Your cheeks changing to a shade of pink, there was only to hope he didn’t read-

He touched his chin, as if hardly thinking about something. “If I remember correctly, ,you wrote that certain article about the attack of New York, right?”

Damn.

You’ve always been a fan of norse mythology, and had a special weakness for so-called “anti-heroes”, too. They were just way too relatable. So it was only natural for you to write an article about that certain event.

In your earlier works, you’d basically write about how that guy’s misunderstood and philosophize about not only seeing black and white, because there was also a lot of grey zones in the clash of good and evil.

There were also parts where you worked together with psychologists and moral scientists to assess the god and his deeds, coming to the conclusion that even though we might learn something from the incident, the objectives of gods were far too great to understand for us mere mortals. And that was only the beginning...

How f*cking embarassing.

“That’s right” you stuttered, panicking and already trying to leave. “Sorry, I didn’t want to be impolite. I’ll make my leave.”

“Don’t be a fool” he whispered out of the blue, pulling you towards him. “I was quite flattered to have at least a single admirer amongst the human race.”

Planning to give his probably only fan a memory he’d never forget, Loki put his palm on your lower back, kneeling down to your height so you could take the photo. “Shall we?”

It felt like an eternity until your trembling hands would finally get that cellphone out of your pocket, but Loki realized your struggle and took it - his arms were way longer than yours anyway. “May I?” “Yeah, uh- Thank you.”

His appearance almost had a childlike innocence to it when he posed for these photos - a personal gift to you.

Turning your head, your eyes met once again, both faces being mere inches apart. It didn’t seem like he was mocking you, rather enjoying himself right now. You could feel it.

And at that very moment, the two of you simultaneously began to laugh, loudly and heartily before getting lost in each others eyes - and to this day, it would be your favourite photo. 

“I think the two of us could have very enlightening conversations, don’t you think?” the sorcerer declared as he watched you swipe through the photos, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “If you want to go somewhere more interesting, I’d be a honour to guide you to a room with more privacy.”

One nod of you and just like that, in the midst of the festives, the two of you disappeared together, without anyone taking notice.

You had found yourself on top of the stark tower, being able to watch the whole city from the roof. Stars stretched far beyond the horizon, making the lights of the city seem so insignificant.

And on the end of that evening, the Prince of Asgard even managed to steal his first kiss from you - even though only on the cheek.

None of you knew what the two of you just started, or what you should await for the future - but Loki could voice both of your hopes very well:

“I think this is the beginning of something unimaginably fulfilling.”

~

Lokis words brought you back to the present:

“What’s sleeping worth if the real dream is right here at my side?”

While you were standing at the stove, making some more pancakes, Loki would embrace you from behind, his nose nestling against your neck, making you shiver. 

“How cheeky” you mumbled as both of you turned your head so your cheeks could touch.

“You foolish humans just don’t appreciate real romance anymore.” With those words, he’d kiss your temple as he changed his appearance into what resembled a cook. “Now finally, by the gods, let me help you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see. You’re such a gentleman. And a comedian, too. Maybe you could prepare the scrambled eggs?”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

While you watched him eagerly trying to crack the eggs without getting all the shells into the pan, your head shifted back to that first night.

If you looked at him right now, no one would believe you that he’s a literal god, a master of the magical arts and a sharpwittted combatant.

But back then, on that rooftop of the Stark Tower, you knew that no matter what exactly he was, and what secrets e’d still be keeping to himself - you wanted to know anything about this man.

And it was set in stone that you’d fell in love with every facade of him.

A little bit exhausted, you let yourself fall onto the sofa in the living room. Thor has probably gone for his early training, and there was no one else to be seen either - all of them seemed to have been sleeping late.

It was a wonder no one had smelled the food and simply annihilate it even faster than it had been prepared. But when you watched the whole scenery at the kitchen table, you were pretty damn proud of yourself.

“Truly magnificent” Loki commented as he sat down next to you, adding “You must value your companions very much.”

“Maybe I was just trying to impress you, you know.” You rested your head at the most comfortable place possible - Loki’s lap, while he gently stroke your hair. “You’ve done well, little one. But you don’t have to go to such lenghts to impress me. My respect is meant only for you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss onto your temple before leaning onto the backrest, wondering “How about we just disappear? A day for just the two of us?”

“Well...” you pondered as you got up, your hand still resting on his knee “I wanted to go for a walk in the park. Maybe you’re up for a traditional picknick?”

Loki’s face contorted in disapproval, which only caused you to blurt out a laugh and pinch his nose. “What’s wrong now, moaning minnie? Not fancy enough?”

“You call that cheap excuse of nature a place someone wants to be? Oh my, I wish you could’ve seen the royal gardens of Asgard.” You knew he missed his home painfully, even though he used to say that you were his home from now on, and he wouldn’t need anything else. It was hard to adapt to an environment that alien to him.

Suddenly, like he did many times before, he cupped your cheeks with his hands, his fingertips only barely touching your temples, assuming “Or maybe, I can show you...”

You felt his magic flow through you, projecting the most beautiful images directly into your head. It was like you could wander those woods yourself, feel the grass onto your feet and smell flowers you’ve never seen before.

There were no words for the bond that two of you shared at that moment, when he let you into the core of his very self, letting you see his memories through your eyes.

Calmness began to settle in both of you, exhaling deeply before your eyes met once again.

“That was amazing, Loki. You are amazing.”

“I don’t have much to offer, my love. But I’m willing to share everything remotely positive with you, Y/N.”

You could feel the cold he was radiating, his fastened breath on your skin. His hands still on your face, you were even able to feel his heart racing through his veins.

Finally, the glimmer in your eyes hinting consent, he’d slowly move himself closer to you, not letting go of you for one second. His hold got tighter as your lips were just about to meet, when-

“Oh my GOD! Guys, they’re finally at it!” Scott yelled through the whole hallway, and you could hear metaphorically a thousand doors opening in response. He was still wearing his Frozen-Pyjama, holding a mug with Natasha’s forbiddenly strong coffee in his hand.

It was so intriguing to them, how anyone could win the heart of the God of Lies -until he met you, they were doubting he even had one. So in an instant, the whole team of superheroes had surrounded you, as if to watch a romantic movie together and waiting for the final sequence. 

“I need a coffee before I’m able to deal with you guys.”

“That makes two of us.”

_____

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[flightfoot]

Dragon Falls Ch. 3

AO3

Just gotta pull up the rope and-

SUCCESS!

Adrien smiled to himself, smug with satisfaction. 

He couldn’t always use the whole shimmy-down-a-rope trick to escape - not when Nathalie or anyone who was likely to report his escape to his father were around - but with most of the adults off having a council meeting? Anyone who’d rat him out were already busy.

Technically Gorilla SHOULD, but well- he’d figured out a long time ago that while Gorilla may be under Gabriel’s employ, he primarily cared about Adrien, not Gabriel’s orders, and while he wanted Adrien to be safe, he valued his ability to spend time with his friends.

He probably wouldn’t be so lenient if he’d known that Adrien had snuck out with Alya to meet up with a DRAGON (and talk with her! He still wasn’t over that) but that was neither here nor there.

“Her name’s Kagami…”

It felt so weird, knowing a dragon’s name. Usually they were just referred to as “those brutes”, “those awful creatures” or “THAT *@%#  *&#@$ THAT SET ME ON FIRE”. 

But… but she was a PERSON.

All of them were.

They just needed to find a way to get everyone else to see that - WITHOUT massively endangering Kagami.

As much as he wanted to believe all the people of the village would instantly stop if they heard Kagami speak, he knew his father too well. Even before his mother was taken away, he HATED dragons. Whenever Mom pushed that maybe there was something more going on, that perhaps if they figured out why they were so dead set on stealing from the village despite the hassle, they could make peace with the dragons, he just said she was being ridiculous. And if she persisted, became heated, he’d just say she was hysterical and to leave until she was no longer so emotional.

He’d always cuddled with her after those fights. She looked like she needed it.

The way she’d stroke his hair, would smile and hug him close-

He flopped onto his bed, hugging his old cat plush, Plagg, close to his chest.

Mom had given it to him when he was five. He’d woken up after a nightmare, scared that some monsters would leap out from the shadows and eat him. 

Father had not appreciated being woken up.

Returning to his room, he’d tried to keep Father’s scathing tone out of his head as he’d berated him for being too old for such nonsense, to never bring up such silly things to him again and to let him sleep.

He hadn’t feared monsters the rest of the night.

He’d been too busy fearing his father.

The following morning Mom had handed him a soft black plush kitty. “He’ll protect you when you sleep, comfort you while you’re awake,” she’d explained, giving him a small, tired smile.

“But won’t Father get upset?” He’d asked fearfully. Father had always scoffed anytime he’d eyed a soft toy, a doll, anything he deemed ‘childish’.

“It’ll be our little secret,” she’d told him, crouching down to eye level. “He’s a hidden protector, just for you.”

He’d kept Plagg close ever since. Father never had a clue.

Did Kagami have a comfort toy?

Parents who missed her?

Worried friends?

What did dragons DO when they weren’t raiding Berk?

And Kagami herself…

He hoped she was okay. She seemed to be coping fine and wasn’t in obvious pain but - well she’d said it herself, she was still injured. Being alone on an island full of people who wanted you dead couldn’t be very pleasant either.

But being mind-controlled by the Queen…

He shuddered.

That didn’t seem much better.

All the dragons had been living under that- that tyranny for decades at LEAST! 

As bad as they’d had it living under constant threat of dragon attacks, at least they’d all had their minds.

He gripped his bedpost tightly.

Seeing the difference between Kagami now, freed from the Queen’s influence?

And Kagami before, not being able to do more than growl?

He REALLY wanted to punch the Queen in the face.

He’d probably break his hand doing so, maybe get eaten soon after (if it was that easy to harm her surely some dragon would’ve taken her out already) but DAMN would it be satisfying.

The front door creaked, then closed. 

“Adrien, come here,” his father said.

The clan meeting was done ALREADY?

Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried to his father’s side. Keeping him waiting was a bad idea. He’d learned that the hard way.

“How’d your trip go?” Adrien asked. Father’d been off searching for the dragon’s nest with several of his closest followers. He’d taken many such trips over the years, hoping to find a way to end the threat the dragons posed once and for all.

Back when his mother was still around he’d looked forward to such trips. Mom always seemed a little more lively, her eyes a little brighter, her shoulders a little looser while he was gone.

Nowadays he still appreciated how much easier it was to sneak out while he was gone, but… Father was his only remaining parent. He wanted him around. To at least not be alone in this big empty house.

“We still haven’t found those wretched dragon’s homes,” Gabriel said bitterly, “but it’s only a matter of time. Our journeys have not been in waste, whatever the rest of the village may think. Especially with certain… alternative control measures coming to light.”

Adrien’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Wh-what? What kind of measures?”

“Never you mind. You’ll see - EVERYONE will see - soon enough. We’re setting out again tomorrow.”

“So soon? But you just got back!” 

Normally Father stayed in the village for a few months, a week at least, in-between journeys. He WAS the Chief after all; he had certain decisions to oversee, disputes to settle. 

He’d never had such a short gap between arriving and leaving again.

“I must capture the ingredients for my plan to work. Soon, we shall have our revenge on dragonkind.” Gabriel smirked.

Adrien’s chest tightened. “Father, what if… what if there was more to it? What if the dragons didn’t WANT to attack us? What if-”

*SLAM*

Adrien shut his eyes instinctively. 

Hot breath cascaded down his neck.

He opened his eyes a bit.

Father’s face was a foot away from him.

His arm still extended, his fist against the wall where he’d slammed it two inches away from Adrien’s face.

“Never say - never SUGGEST - again that we should show the dragons leniency. I thought you cared about your mother.”

“I do! But-”

“If you loved her, you’d want to rid the world of the scourge that TOOK HER FROM US!”

“But-”

Father backed off, turning around and clasping his hands behind his back. “I have decided that you will begin dragon slaying lessons effective tomorrow. Perhaps the instructors there will be able to make you see sense. The only good dragon is a dead dragon, son; never forget it.”

Normally he’d welcome such a proclamation.

Now his feelings were mixed.

Getting to hang out with the other kids without needing to sneak around was good, but the idea of learning how to kill dragons just made him squirm.

Hurting Kagami?

Hurting any other dragon who wasn’t even in control of themselves?

Was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Lessons start at 9:00 a.m. Do not be late.”

Father walked out of the room leaving Adrien to his thoughts.

[bangtan-gal]

Heartstrings

Lee Minho x Fem!Reader Half-demon half-angel!au Warnings: angst, swearing, drinking, drugging, deaths, graphic depictions of blood, UNEDITED Word Count: 4k

Masterlist  Other Angel AUs: Chan | Jisung | Hyunjin 

The cool, night air prickled against your skin and you rubbed your arms slowly. You stood with your friends in line, waiting to get into the club. There should’ve been a smile on your face, or some form of happiness present in that moment, but you just felt lost. Is this really where you wanted to be? It wasn’t like you could say you wanted to be anywhere else—you always felt empty, no matter where you were.

“Hey, lighten up a bit Y/N.”

Your roommate nudged you with her elbow, face illuminated by a mischievous grin. You barely spared her a glance as you moved with the line and handed your ID to the bouncer. His eyes skimmed over it before handing it back to you. You slid into the club, not bothering to look back to see if your friends were keeping up. The second you stepped into the building, your whole body started to pulsate from the bass shaking the floor. All anger and confidence was lost as you stood at the entrance, staring into the wide, glamorous expanse. Humans, demons, vampires, and other nightmares bounced in a sloppy rhythm on the floor. You had to fight the urge to turn and run. 

This isn’t right. 

Your friends’ reactions were more positive.

“Holy shit, it really is a supernatural bar!” Your roommate exclaimed, the others nodding in excitement. You wanted to scream at them, asking them what exactly was wrong with them. Humans were killed all the time by these creatures—they were nothing short of evil.

Your town was… odd to say in the least. The outside world didn’t seem to know of these nightmarish creatures. Here, you lived in a fragile harmony with them. They lived in houses, drove cars, raised families, and acted almost just as if they were human. They could act normal, but if you knew what to look for, you could tell that they weren’t. The eyes were always unnaturally bright, the ears coming up to a weird slant, teeth coming down in terrifying points, and shadows following them wherever they went.

The creatures tried not to kill humans.

They weren’t very good at controlling their urges.

Either way, you swallowed your fear and followed your friends to a booth near the back. When they had proposed the idea to you, you were immediately against it. Then they convinced you to come and here you were. 

Something bad was bound to happen.

“Y/N, come up with me to order drinks,” Renna demanded, hooking her arm through yours. You started to protest, pulling against her, but her determination dragged you across the floor and all the way to the bar. A man—a demon from the looks of it—approached slowly, a dark grin on his face.

“What can I get you ladies?” He asked.

“Three martinis please,” Renna hummed and then glanced at you. You shook your head. “And a beer for my reluctant friend.”

The man smirked at you and his eyes ran over you. You shivered, crossing your arms over your chest. Here, you were the prey. Here, you weren’t protected.

“Renna, you know this isn’t good,” you whispered, turning to her. She frowned at you. “We’re gonna get hurt.” She huffed. “The last murder was years ago, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s only because rules were set in place. They live on the East side and we live on the West side—we don’t interact as much as we used to! And who's to say there haven’t been murders since? Plenty of people could be dead.”

Renna’s frown deepened, her eyebrows furrowing.

“We’re a small town, we’d know if someone went missing.”

“B—”

She shot you a look. 

The bartender returned with your drinks, sending a filthy wink your way. You ignored him, snatching your beer and stalking back to the table. Your friends chatted happily as you silently nursed your drink, frowning at nothing in particular. The LED lights in the club were giving you a headache and you didn’t like how your whole body jumped every time there was a big bass drop in a song. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but at some point your headache became too much. You stumbled to the bathroom, pressing a hand to your temple. It barely subsided—if anything, it only got worse. You sank down to the floor, pressing yourself against the wall. Something wasn’t right. Your throat was burning and pain was starting to pull at your stomach.

You groaned.

“Aw, how cute.”

You cracked your eyes open, watching as the door opened all the way. 

Anger flushed through you. The beer.

The bartender strode across the floor until he was in front of you. In the normal lighting, his eyes shone a bright blue. He crouched down, his hand wrapping around your ankle. You tried to pull back, but his grip was like iron.

“A little sick, aren’t you?” He purred, his other hand running along your face. You swatted him away, coughing as your throat screamed for liquid. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You couldn’t fight him, even if you weren’t extremely dizzy. He had inhuman strength and could snap your spine in half if he really wanted to. You wiggled against him, but the world was only spinning faster as he carried you out of the bathroom. Paying attention to where you were going was impossible. Cold air brushed your skin as you were brought outside. For a small second, you felt better, your lungs filling with proper air, before your whole body deflated again. He set you down and for a second you thought he was just going to let you go and that you read the situation wrong.

Instead, he grabbed your wrist painfully tight and started to drag you down the sidewalk. Your voice was hoarse and barely there as you cried for help, but there was no one around. And even if there was; it would be other demons and why would they stop him?

“You going somewhere with that?”

You groggily looked up, still fighting hopelessly against his hold on you. Another man stood on the sidewalk, hands tucked into his pockets. A cigarette hung from his lips, the light gray curling slowly into the air. A broken sob escaped you as you pleaded with him silently. His eyes darted between you and the man until they just rested on you. He tilted his head, black hair falling across his face, covering up equally dark eyes. 

“Just let her go man,” he muttered, “you know how screwed we’ll be if the town finds out another one was killed.”

Your captor laughed. 

“Seriously?” He pulled on your hair. “It’ll be fine. They haven’t noticed for the past several years. Aren’t we allowed to fulfill our cravings?”

“You can get off on animals dumbass. Leave the girl alone.”

“As if—”

His grip on your wrist vanished. You fell to your knees, trying to keep your eyes open. There was a grumble of pain somewhere nearby and then a sound of something tearing. You managed to look up, watching as your captor’s bled spread over the street. The other man stood beside him, face tilted as he just stared at him. Then he turned to you and your relief vanished. He knelt down in front of you.

“I won’t hurt you, don’t worry,” he whispered, eyes running over your face. “But I’ll need to help you with the poison.”

“The wha—?”

⥷⥷⥷⥷⥷   

You were woken up by a pounding headache and a bright light shining over your face. You managed to sit up, shielding the sun from your eyes. The room was mostly bare, nothing hung on the walls—nothing of personal value. You fell back onto the pillow, trying to remember what happened. There was no recollection of yesterday as a whole—you didn’t know what time you got up, what you had for lunch, where you went to get this loud headache, or how you ended up here.

“You’re awake.”

Your eyes cracked open, watching as a young man strut across the room. Something inside you stirred, you felt like you’d seen him before. His hair was dark, falling across his brow. He was lean, with a beautifully crafted face.

“W-what happened?” Your mouth was extremely dry.

“You were poisoned,” he muttered, crouching down beside the bed. With him only a few feet away, you could see that his eyes were dark, but they glittered purple. You winced, scooting away from him. Demon. “I did as much as I could—got rid of the poisoning, so you’ll no longer be dizzy and in pain—but I’m afraid I can’t fix everything. It’s gonna feel like you’re hungover and your memory might take a while to fully recuperate.”

You wanted to reply, but your throat was screaming and your mouth was completely dry.

“I’ll get you some water and toast.”

With that, he stood up and was gone. You watched him step out of the room and wander down the hallway, turning into another room. You could hear him rummaging around and then he appeared again with water, a medication bottle, and a plate of toast. His steps were delicate as he walked back into the room, feet unheard against the wooden floor.

You weren’t sure if you should trust him, but your body betrayed you as you swallowed the pain relief and downed the water. You took a bite of the bread and then your stomach revolted, so you warily handed him the food back. He stared at you the whole time, curiosity shining in his eyes. 

You were able to find your voice.

“What?”

He tilted his head and then shrugged.

“You just took really well to the healing,” he explained carefully, eyes running over your face. “Most… uhm, most human bodies aren’t very receptive to supernatural abilities.”

You frowned, slowly sitting up in the bed.

“Why heal me? Why not let me suffer?” You queried. The boy didn’t look surprised by your question, but he did look repulsed. A frown set firmly on his face and he looked away, the purple in his eyes becoming brighter as he surveyed the room. His jaw ticked.

“Not all of us are the same,” he deadpanned, “believe me—part of my nature would’ve joined in on making your life miserable but the other part… wasn’t happy.”

You blinked several times, not exactly sure what he was saying. The purple in his eyes started to fade and went back to the dim lavender it was earlier. He licked his lips, mouth opening just enough for you to see his teeth. There was no sharp edges; they looked just like human teeth. Demons’ teeth were sharpened, yet if it wasn’t for his eyes, you would’ve mistaken him as human.

“You have two natures?”

What the fuck could his other nature be? “Angel.” His voice was blank as he answered. His face was void of any emotion, but there was a small flit of something like sadness on his face. You opened your mouth and then closed it. Your eyes narrowed in thought.

“Angels exist?” You whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. “What? You thought there’d be all these demons running around and have no counterpart?”

“I guess… I mean-you-huh? I figured if there were angels they would…”

“Show up,” he mumbled, nodding. He started to pick at his nails. “I always thought they would too.”

Silence burned up the air between you. 

“I’m Y/N”—you didn’t know what you were doing, but you held out your hand—“thanks, honestly.”

He shook your hand slowly, confusion rippling across his still features.

“Minho,” he muttered. Your hand lingered in his and something sparked deep inside you. This was definitely not right—you weren’t supposed to trust supernatural creatures—but something about him was calling out to you and something inside you shouted back. It didn’t help that his eyes dropped, red blooming on his cheeks after you finally let go of his hand. He paused for a second, biting his lip. “Uhm… I should’ve told you earlier, but you’re gonna need to stay for another day. Most healing processes take two days for it to properly work and although it worked the first time I’m worried that it might reverse or something.”

“You want to keep an eye on me,” you confirmed.

Minho nodded.

You smiled nervously. “That’s fine.”

You spent the next several hours asleep. Early afternoon came and you woke up, your headache mostly gone. You stumbled out of bed on your own, walking down the hallway. The apartment was small: one room with a miniscule kitchen and a barely-there living room.  Minho seemed to be gone. 

You didn’t want to snoop, but curiosity was brewing deep in your stomach. His room was completely void of anything personal—family, friends, hobbies. There was just a bed in the corner with a nightstand, a few boxes stacked in the corner, and tiny closet of clothes. Although, there didn’t seem to be anything else. The kitchen only had a stove, sink, microwave, and refrigerator with tiny counters. He didn’t even have a couch in his living room and it had you wondering where he slept last night.

Of course… does he actually sleep?

It almost didn’t feel right for there to be nothing. Sure, he wasn’t human, but the way he had talked of angels earlier sounded as if he was waiting for a parent to come back. His demon parent had probably been there, but his life was empty of the good side of him. There had to be a family or maybe friends. From what you’d seen, demons acted a lot like humans—made friends, had relationships, one-night stands, and everything far out and in between. 

Just as you gave up on looking, the front door opened. Minho stepped in. He looked surprised to see you standing in the middle of the living room, completely frozen. You prayed that he couldn’t read minds because something told you he wouldn’t be happy about you trying to snoop. His angelic nature had saved your life earlier, but how many more times would it be able to do it? 

That was something you were genuinely curious about. Were his natures like split personalities? Did they argue every time he was given the chance to do something bad or something good? He had made it sound like he would do something bad, but his angelic nature wouldn’t let him. It had to work the other way, right? There had to be times where he wanted to do something good, but his demonic side refused. Or maybe he had control over it and chose to do good.

He watched you.

“You have lots of questions,” he sighed, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up on the hook. “I can’t read minds by the way—I’m not a full angel and telepathy is a very rare trait in demons. Your face says it all.”

You blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I guess… I just want to know who you are; how-how you came to be.”

That felt like a stupid question.

“Angels can’t get pregnant.” You hadn’t expected him to dive right in, but he seemed to have other ideas. “Demons have the same make of humans—only females can become pregnant. Never met my dad, but he somehow fell in love with my mom and they had me. I was raised by my mom for the first ten years of my life and then she suddenly disappeared. Spent the rest of my life in foster care.”

Your mouth formed an ‘O.’

“Truthfully, I don’t know how my parents fell in love. They do say that opposites attract, but you wouldn’t think mortal enemies would. Not sure how my father faired; maybe he fell from heaven or possibly got decimated. For a demon, my mother wasn’t inherently evil. She had her moments, but she was better at controlling her urges and shockingly… she wanted me to grow up to be good. Always told me that. She told me that my demonic side wasn’t bad, but it would want me to do things that I shouldn’t.”

Minho paused, eyes glazing over. His fingers played with the ends of his shirt. Then he shook his head, letting out a shaky sigh.

“‘Listen to your angel, because in the end, it will do you best.’”

Minho grew silent and you were unable to respond to that. He started chewing on his lips and his eyes ran over the apartment, looking everywhere but you. A bad feeling crept through your anatomy and you regretted asking him. It was your fault that memories were resurfacing—memories that he probably didn’t want to remember.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “you don’t have to say anymore if you don’t want to.”

He nodded, smiling tightly.

“You hungry?” “Yeah.”

⥷⥷⥷⥷⥷  

  You were woken up by a gravelly voice and someone shaking you. When your eyes opened, you found the world to still be dark. It took your vision several moments to adjust to the darkness, but once it did, you found that whoever stood at your bedside, was not your parents. A short man with bright red eyes stared down at you. Your whole body shook.

“Come on kid.”

You were reluctant to follow, but you were given no choice. He dragged you out of bed and down the hallway. The loudest thing was the sound of your heart beating so loudly against your ribcage, it could’ve escaped. The living room was flooded with light and your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. Smears of blood lined the walls and carpet. Your mother was slumped against the wall, eyes wide open and glazed over. A trail of red slid from her mouth, down her chin, and dripped onto her collar. There was a large, gaping hole in her chest. Nothing was there, not even bones.

Your father sat beside her, tears slipping down his face as his gaze switched between you and her. His lip was quivering and he was shaking his head at you. His lips moved around silent words and it was hard to distinguish exactly what he was saying. It seemed like he was switching between ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m sorry.’ 

“Dad?” You gasped, body starting to shake with the oncoming onslaught of sobs. You covered your mouth, crumbling to your knees in front of them. Another man and woman loitered in the room. The man was staring at you with swirling green eyes, an almost finished roll hanging between his lips. The room reeked of weed and something painfully metallic.

“Please don’t hurt her,” your dad cried, “s-she’s too young.”

The woman huffed a laugh, her eyes darting to where you knelt. 

“I doubt we could get anything from her,” she commented, tilting her head. Her eyes flashed as she did so. You cringed away, only to wince when you pressed against the third demon behind you. 

“Don’t!” Your father screamed as the other man stepped towards you. The demon turned to your father, something psychotic rioting in his face. It was bright; it was dangerous. 

Sirens came to your rescue and very quickly, you could see the blue and red lights flashing angrily. All three demons stiffened, exchanging uncertain stares. Then it happened so quick—too quick. The woman hurried to your father, crouching down in front of him and cradling his head in her hands.

“Oh, we won’t lay a hand on her, but we’ll leave her scars that will never fade,” she hissed. You tried to look away, spare yourself from what you knew was coming. You were too late. It was hard to say what was more sickening: the loud crack that tore through the room or how long it took the light to die from his eyes. You were shoved to the ground as the three fled the scene, leaving you alone in a silent house with your mutilated parents. 

“Y/N?”

You looked up, blinking in confusion.

“Y/N, hey!”

Your eyes opened quickly and you looked around rapidly. Your body was hot and sticky with sweat. The few sheets that you hadn’t managed to kick off the bed clung to your skin. You could feel the tears that were pressed to your face Minho hovered over you, shaking you desperately. 

“Oh my god.”

You didn’t mean to, but you shoved him off of you and rolled away. You were sleeping in a demon’s house, putting as much trust in him as you could. What was to stop him from hurting you? Nothing, that’s what. Nothing was stopping him from hurting you; he could take you out with a single flick of his wrist.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Has the poison relapsed?”

“I’m fucking fine!” You snapped, sitting up. Your anger vanquished as you stared at his face. Worry, confusion, and agony was racing through his eyes. You pinched your eyes shut, exhaling. He didn’t do this to you, he wouldn’t. 

“Do-do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly, sitting on the other side of the bed. 

“Not really.”

He was silent as you struggled to get your breathing under control. As you sat there, trying to collect your thoughts, you realized how stupid and selfish you were being. Minho had told you of his family life without hesitation. You knew talking about this would help—you hadn’t told a single person.

And now you were about to tell a demonic person.

“My parents were murdered by demons when I was eleven,” you muttered, “it was… it was terrible.”

You slowly recounted the events, not even realizing you were describing it in deep detail. It was stuck in your system; burned into you like a branding. It was unforgettable. Every single moment was just there, almost as if you were remembering what you had done only hours ago. Minho listened dutifully the whole time, deep eyes filling with understanding.  

“I really wish that all demons weren’t that terrible,” he muttered. Then he shook his head. “But most of them don’t even try to control their urges.”

You wiped a tear away, licking your lips. 

“What exactly are the urges?” 

You already had a terrible idea of what they were.

“It’s just… to make people’s life miserable. Torture them, hurt them as much as we can, and when we completely lose control… people die. Humans think we need to kill to survive, but that’s far from the truth. It only helps us feel alive, even if for only a few moments.” He pinched his eyes shut. “They’re unfortunately really hard to control. We could easily use animals and get a similar high, but it’s the pleading, the crying. That look in their eyes when they realize they’re helpless. Animals can’t do it, but humans can.”

Minho blinked rapidly and bit his lip. 

You stared at him. 

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you?” You whispered, unconsciously scooting away. He shook his head, tears starting to spill from his eyes.

“Every day I wish I hadn’t,” he cried, “I’ve taken it every chance I’ve had to make up for it. I know I never can, nothing can ever fix what I did.”

You looked at him, expecting to see a monster, but all you saw was a broken boy. It didn’t matter that he was a supernatural being, because he had grown up all the same as other humans. He’d experienced tragedies, had cried. He had emotions. 

He was human. 

“Minho, it’s okay,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around him. He smelled like strawberries. “It’s only a voice in your head. It’s not apart of you—it’s not who you are. I know you don’t want to hurt others, from what I’ve seen so far, you’re more of an angel than you are a demon.”

You pulled back slightly, wiping away one of his tears.

His gaze met yours.

“It’s okay. Really.”

The two of you were silent for a second.

Then a shaky smile appeared on his face.

“I promise I’ll never hurt you Y/N,” he stated, his thumb gripping your chin. He was so close. “Never.”

You smiled, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours.

Nothing had ever tasted sweeter. 

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

Yandere stray kids the wedding series: The wedding (4/4) Final

Genre: Fluff/ Angst

SFW I guess, but a little suggestive.

Pairing: Reader X Stray kids Members

Requested: Yes, by @petalskook : “Can I ask for a reaction to skz!yandere, How would your wedding be?” (Last part honey!)

Word count: 7,4k

Author’s note: I added some more things to your request, because I felt like it fit the story well. I hope you like it. (I’m back on this request after what? Two months?)  I thought it would be fun to make this a series so I did. Also I’m going to keep this party PG since I do not write smut.

Warning: Yandere themes, swearing, mentions of death, toxic relationships, a little suggestive, manipulation, mentions of murder, do not read if uncomfortable

Chan:

After the wedding Chan had bought two tickets for a honeymoon to a place he had always wanted to visit: Tenerife. One of his favourite songs is Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran and Chan just needed to take this chance to share this special moment with his significant other.

It has been two days after the wedding and Chan couldn’t keep his hands off her. Their first wedding night was absolutely romantic. He had bought the honeymoon suite at the best hotel he could find in the country and after a night of loving as a new-wedded couple. His hands were all over you and yours were tangled in his hair as your lips were inseparable from his.  

The next morning he would wake you up, his lips attached to your neck as he mumbled a good morning in the meantime. “Morning to you to my hubby.” “Call me that again.” Chan mutters as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “What, hubby?” “

No, yours.”

“You’re all mine Chan. Not to forget, I’m all yours.” 

“All mine.” Chan whispered before attacking your neck again.

The morning went by within a second it seems. Chan had bought an extensive breakfast for the two of you before you two boarded your flight to who knows. The two of you were seated in your first class seats, receiving a glass of champagne as soon as you had made yourself comfortable. 

Chan had told you that it would be a long flight. He made sure you were comfortable and that you held his hands the whole flight. Chan decided to not sleep the whole flight, not wanting anyone to talk to you. Even though you were his already. Nobody was good enough to breath the same air as you besides him. Nobody would treat you as well as he only could.

“Honey where are we going?” You asked with a yawn as Chan lead you through a pad after he had covered your eyes with a blindfold.

“Be patient babygirl and I’ll reward you with your surprise.” Chan whispered seductively under his breath, loud enough for you to hear, startling you.

“Alright baby, open your eyes.” Chan says as he removed the blindfold to reveal a big pool with an amazing view. You gasped in admiration as you looked around happily. “Chan it’s so beautiful here- Where are we?” You asked confused, still not able to process everything.

“We’re in Tenerife my love.” He giggled when you gasped once again, happy that he was the cause of that smile. “Is that a castle? Or is that a mansion? The houses here are so spacious.” You chuckled, before you turned to your husband who was simply holding a key in front of your face. 

“It’s ours my love.” “You bought this?” You exclaimed in shock. “Just for you and me.” He whispered as he held you by your waist. “Just for us?” 

“It’s ours baby. And it’s private as well. Nobody is allowed to come here. It’s just the two of us here baby. We can even live here if you want. Nobody knows us, we don’t need anybody. We have this amazing view and you have me to provide you for everything you need.” Chan muttered against your cheek as he pecked it. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” “That’s my girl.” He smirked, before crashing his lips onto yours. 

The next day was filled with great a luxe breakfast on bed, a lot of love and a lot of swimming.

You even decided to have a little competition with each other, which you honestly didn’t wanted to participate, because you knew how good of a swimmer your husband was.

After racing each other three times in a row, you somehow won.

“You let me win.” You whined.

“No I didn’t my love. You’re just that amazing.” He praised whilst kissing your lips.

“But I didn’t deserve my prize.” You whined once again as Chan brought our a bottle of oil so he could massage you. Chan did let you win, but all because he saw a chance to put his hands all over you without you being whiny.

“Why, do you want to earn your prize my love?” He said with a smirk as he walked slowly to you, making you bite your bottom lip, knowing what was to come next. You nodded slightly, making Chan drop the bottle on the nearest chair he could find, before crashing his lips onto yours. His hands were gripping your waist tightly as your lips were moving passionately.

This was for sure going to be a good life, especially when it was just you and him. And if it would be like this everyday, no worries. Just you and your love that was only for him? 

Nobody would even dare to try to tell him that there would come an end to this. To Chan, it would never.

Woojin:

This boy was so extra after the wedding. He wouldn’t let you walk anywhere. He needed to carry you. “Because the world doesn’t deserve you and I as your husband has to make sure that you wouldn’t be in touch with the world.” “You’re too kind my love.” You would giggle as you were carried bridal style to your honeymoon sweet the two of you were staying in for a weekend. You two thought it would be a good idea to take a good ‘rest’ before you went on your honeymoon.

The burdened feeling of the fear of losing you was still alive in the back of his mind, but since you now wore his last name the chance of you leaving him would be almost impossible. Even if you wanted to divorce him, he would have to sign the papers as well. And he certainly wouldn’t.

The thought of you wanting to leave him made him feel infuriated. He wanted to punish you before hand so you wouldn’t even dare to think about it. But you had proven to him that you were his good princess and that you only loved and needed him. 

He had protected you from so many creeps or people who didn’t support your relationship, he cut them all off for you so you could be happy with  him and only him. He didn’t want to share your happiness. If anyone would ever make you smile brighter than he did that day, the person could expect an assassin at the front of their door by the end of the day.

“Are you ready for Bora Bora my wife?” Woojin asks when you were seated in a private section of the plane. It even had a bed and it left you startled. “Yes, but how much money did you spend on this plane ticket?” You ask with your mouth agape as you looked around the room, yes, the room.

“Not enough when it comes to you, I wanted to buy a private yet, but the bastards were. Now come to bed I want to hold my wife.” Woojin whines as he held you by your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, copying his actions. You started to squeal when your husband tackled you onto the bed, nestling his face into the crook of your neck immediately.

Woojin had woken you up from your nap when you were about to arrive. He mentioned to you to look outside and the view was absolutely breath-taking. You thanked God and Woojin that you had bought an early flight to the island.

You squealed once again in excitement hugging Woojin. He hugged you back, giving you a fond look as he thought you were adorable.

“Let’s get ready my love, we have an island to explore.” He whispered, pecking your lips right after.

After three days on the island you came to the conclusion that you never wanted to leave. The island and the atmosphere were dreamy like and you didn’t want it to end. Even though the two of you didn’t explore much of the island, but thought your hotel room was way more interesting, you now decided as it was your third day on the island to go see sighting.

He was spoiling you so much. You would only look at something your eyes had caught whilst looking around and he would’ve bought it for you. By now he was holding many shopping bags with clothes, accessories and snacks that he had bought just for you. 

“Baby you don’t have to spend all this money on me.” “Be grateful my love or you will be punished tonight. Besides, I told you I would take care of you. Just accept these gifts for me my love and everything will be alright. You’re my wife and I love you and I promised myself to make you the happiest woman in the world, so just let me do it.” “You’re too good for me baby. I love you too.”

‘This couldn’t possibly can get any better.’ Woojin thought to himself.

“Hey Woojin.” You said out of nowhere. He looked at you confused, since you didn’t use any pet names for him.

“Y-yes my love?” He stuttered, slightly scared of what you were about to say.

“You know who I think is so cute?” You started with a smirk.

“Who, I demand you to tell me-”

“My husband Woojin. He is just the cutest, He has even bought me a crystal necklace in the shape of a flower. I love it so much. And most importantly, I forgot to mention how freaking handsome he is. I’m such a lucky woman.” You giggled, seeing him calm down as soon as you mentioned his name.

“You like to tease me, huh? Let’s see how much you like it.” He muttered deeply, before he tackled you down onto your shared bed.

‘It could get better, huh?’ He thought, as he smirked to himself.

“Mine.” He growled as he attacked your neck with his lips.

“Yours my love. All yours.” 

Minho:

Just like Woojin, Minho loved to spoil you. Right after the wedding he had promised you to show you how much he loved you that night and for the rest of your lives. The night was full of soft touches and seductive whispers.

After your blissful night together he had told you to prepare for the surprise of your life. You were excited for your honeymoon. Your husband had promised you to take you to your favourite place in the world and besides his arms it was Hawaii. You loved Hawaii and you had always told Minho that you wanted to make memories with him there. It just seemed perfect. Nice hot weather, good food, a great view and Minho. It was everything you needed and that’s also what you told him.

And he took it literally. What you didn’t know when you arrived at Hawaii, was at which island you would stay at, was actually yours. He had bought an island in a tropical atmosphere so they could live their best lives, with just each other.

Minho was scared that you’d run away from him, even though you wanted to marry him obviously. Even if she’d try to swim away from him, he’d find her and bring her back to him. He didn’t wanted to take the risk. He still remembered the day they met. You didn’t wanted to do anything with him as you were waiting for your boyfriend.

Minho was furious. 

He was the one who was supposed to date you. He had planned everything. He had caused an accident, so bad that you’d lose half of your memory. He’d wipe out your current boyfriend and visit you in the hospital, pretending he was him. He had even removed half of her friends’ memories, just so he could be with her. A sick move, but he got what he wanted.

Minho smiled to himself as you were rushing through the house that was placed on the island, mesmerised by everything he had arranged for the two of you.

“Did you really do this for us?” You asked him in awe. “Of course I did baby, I can get you anything and everything you want or need.” He says with a cocky undertone as he smirked. “This is going to be our little home. You will never have to leave ever again, I’ll take care of you. My wife, my love.” He stated proudly as he looked at you up and down, loving the sundress you wore for him.

You ran into his arms and he twirled you around.

“I love you so much baby.” “I know you do, princess.”

You and your husband had a little too many cocktails on your second day on your little private island. 

“From the sentence “I love you”, which word is your favourite?” You asked whilst you slurred your words a bit. You were laid onto you husband’s bare chest as you laid together on the beach lounges.

Minho stared down at you, enjoying how clingy you were whenever you drank too much. And he thanked the universe he found out about it, because it made him want to fill you up with the toxic substance, just to get you all over him.

“Well?” You asked him, snapping him back into reality,

“I. It has to be I.” He said with a smirk.

You giggled whilst cupping his cheek with one hand, bringing his face closer to yours.

“It will and has always been you.” 

“Good.” He whispered before kissing you soft but passionately.

Changbin:

Changbin was ready to spoil you. He is a man with a lot of money on his bank account and he wanted to spend it all on you. He was crazy for you and you secretly knew it. The wedding and the wedding night had worn the two of you out. Dancing all night and loving in the hotel suite with a beautiful view. Changbin’s stress was increased as soon as the wedding was over. He had taken care of the   bad people in your life. Even though they were invited to the wedding, they would never leave the venue.

His hands had been all over you ever since you entered the plane. “Baby, stop it. We’re in public.” You’d whisper as Changbin was kissing down your neck. “I just want to show everybody you’re mine.” He muttered against your skin. “I think they can see the ring glistening baby.” You joked as you flaunted your wedding ring. “It fits you so perfectly, my love.” He whispered; his lips still attached to your skin.

You caressed his cheek before planting a kiss on his forehead, making him smile in content as you started your fourteen-hour flight.

“Here we are my love, New York!” Changbin cheered as you two arrived at an apartment complex. “I still can’t believe you brought us to New York for our honeymoon! It’s so pretty, look at the lights!” You yelled happily as you jumped up and down, feeling excited to spend time with your husband in a beautiful city like this.

You threw yourself into his arms and enjoyed his touch. Changbin, smiled to himself. He couldn’t be happier about the fact how good you had been to him. You always behaved, you never wanted to leave him. You did scare him at the wedding when it came to your dress-crisis and he had punished you for that.

He wanted to reward and spoil you, for being so good to him. “Princess, let’s go upstairs and freshen up. I have some reservations for us at the best restaurant in New York and we have to be in time.” Changbin informed as he took her by the hand and lead her up. 

Your eyes widened as you arrived at the penthouse of the complex. You gasped as you slowly walked your way into the place that, thank to Changbin, you could call yours. “You did not buy this for us.” You said, still in disbelief. “Believe it baby, this is ours. You said how much you loved the night skyline and now you can look at it for the rest of our lives.” He smiled whilst placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“This is amazing. I love it! I can’t tell you, how happy I am that I married you.” You confessed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You can show me though.” He smirked as he placed his hands on your waist. “I thought you said we had reservations?” “I can push it an hour back if we need to.” Changbin wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.

“Changbin, baby. C’mon we’re going to be late.” You whined as your husband took forever to get ready.

“My love, why do we have to eat out. We can just order in? Wouldn’t you like that? We’re going to live here anyway. We can eat there whenever we want. Let’s just sit on our balcony with some pizzas or something and enjoy ourselves.” Your husband whined back as he clung onto you with no shirt on. He knew he had you weak whenever he did that and that made you whine once again.

“I’ll call them off, you order the food.” You sighed with a chuckle as you whipped out your phone.

“You’re the best!” He kissed your cheek before disappearing to the other room,

When the pizzas arrived you laughed out loudly to see that the pizzas were heart shaped.  

“You’re such a softy.” You teased as you messed up his hair playfully.

“Only for you my love.” He grinned whilst wiggling his eyebrows.

“And they say you’re scary, I just can’t believe that. I mean look at you, my handsome man.”

“I am for you eyes only my love, just like you are for me.”

Hyunjin:

This mother fluffer is a cheesy romantic. He’d take you to Paris for you honeymoon. He wants to rent the Eiffel tower and the Louvre so he could enjoy it with only you. It was so far from home; nobody would know who you were there and Hyunjin loved it.

The flight might had been long but it was worth it when he saw your reaction as you arrived at night. Your chauffeur would drive you around the city, giving you a tour of lights. Portraying the city beautifully as if you were traveling between the stars.

Your husband had covered your eyes with his big hands as he wanted to surprise you with your apartment for the next couple of weeks. You gasped when he removed his hands from you face, to reveal the room to you. You ran to the balcony to look at the view and you were in awe. Hyunjin followed you and hugged you from behind.

“Do you like it?” Hyunjin whispered in your ear. “I love it.” You replied, turning around to bury your face in the chest of your tall husband. “Good, now get some rest my queen. I have a whole day planned for us tomorrow.” He swept you off your feet and carried you bridal style to bed.

The day started late in the morning. You husband had woken you up with breakfast on bed and a lot of love. After that, he would lay an outfit out for you to wear, before taking you on a date in the city of love.

You had lunch in a cute café and walked along the Seine. Your hands never let go of one another as you walked through the city. Hyunjin loved, having you by his side at any time, because he knew people were watching you. He knew you were a walking goddess and he wanted to show you off.

At your wedding day, when he killed that bastard, Hyunjin felt such a rush. The adrenaline was addicting and he needed more. He wanted people to see her, he wanted to feel jealous so he had a reason to kill them, to make you only his. He would punish you, if you would talk or look at other people but him. He didn’t care that you were his wife, you needed to be put in your place.

He would see the chauffeur look at you a little too many times through the mirror, making Hyunjin smirk. 

“Sir, would you like a drink later tonight? As a thank you for driving us around?” Hyunjin would say. The man behind the steer could feel a certain vibe coming from your husband, you on the other hand had no clue what Hyunjin was planning. 

“A-alright?” The chauffeur stuttered, making Hyunjin smirk.

“Good, I’ll see you tonight. You can drop us off right there.” Hyunjin signed, before getting out with you.

“We’ll see you tomorrow!” You said cheerfully, not knowing that the poor man would never ever see the day of light again after tonight as you walked off with your husband to your romantic dinner.

You sat across from your fiance as you were having a lovely dinner together. You were just mesmerized by the beauty your husband held, you just felt so lucky.

“What’s wrong my love?” He asks you when he caught you staring at him.

“You- You have a face.” You blurted out, whilst still staring at your husband.

“Yes, yes I do my love- are you okay? Do you need some water-”

“I mean a nice face! You have a nice face- oh my gosh I am so embarrassing.” You whispered whilst hiding your face in your hands, making your husband laugh at how adorable you were.

“Thanks, I think.” 

“Please accept my attempts at flirting, I don’t know what I’m doing.” You whined as Hyunjin stuck out his hand for you to hold.

“Luckily, my love. We’re married. You don’t have to flirt with me, even though I love it. Especially seeing you fail like that.” He laughed, making you pout in the process.

“Babe~” You whined, squeezing his hand, which Hyunjin kissed comfortingly.

“I love you though.” He said whilst shooting you a wink.

“You better.”

“Baby, believe me I do.”

(I love this gif too much, I needed to add it)

Jisung:

Jisung is a sentimental man. He likes the fact that something had a meaning or a story. He took those things and people dearly. Besides you were Malaysia one of them. He loved it there, but he was glad he moved away, so destiny could set the two of you up, something Jisung liked to believe.

Jisung is known as an anxious yandere, he constantly fears that you’d leave him. It doesn’t matter to him that you’re married, he wanted you to show him how much you loved him, how much you needed him. There would be days or weeks where he would be so distant, just to test you. He wanted to see you running to him, begging him for attention or any kind of affection. He loved that you needed him.

That set Jisung to thinking. If you only needed him, why would you be surrounded by people you know. What if you’d run to them instead of him? The thought made him shiver. He needed to do something about it and that’s when you’re honeymoon came into view.

Jisung had taken you to Malaysia and he was happy that you were excited. You were thrilled to be part of something that Jisung loved so much, especially as his wife. Jisung had brought you at first to a hotel and showing you the best place of Kuala Lumpur with a tour guide.

Your husband wasn’t the biggest fan of this guy, but he couldn’t blow his cover. The urge to kill your brother was too high and he was ready to risk it, but he knew he shouldn’t or he would love you. Jisung had to wait for the right moment.

On your honeymoon, was Jisung distant, just as he planned. “Honey, aren’t you enjoying yourself? Do you want to go somewhere else?” You asked him as you were looking at the view in the Petronas Towers. Your husband chose to ignore you, making you sigh. “What if we went back to the hotel and enjoy ourselves?” You wiggled your eyebrows, as soon as Jisung’s gaze shot your way.

His heart was pounding and he wanted to punish you for making him a mess. He grabbed you by the hand and dragged you inside the first taxi he could stop. “What address did you gave him?” You asked him confused after Jisung told the taxi driver to go to a certain apartment complex.

“Don’t worry about it princess, just get ready.” Was everything your husband would say, before crashing his lips onto yours.

“My love are you ready for our new home?” He asked as he covered your eyes with his hand, whilst walking with you through your new penthouse. “O-our new home?” “Don’t you want to be with me?” Jisung growled, dropping his hands from your eyes, making you gasp by the view. The penthouse was huge and the view was beautiful. There was even a pool, on the top of an apartment complex. “Of course, I want to be with you! I didn’t expect this!” You exclaimed as you looked around.

“You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you don’t even want to be with me. Even if I give you this in a tropical country. I should punish you, you should be grateful I even let you marry me.” He growled deeply. “I-I am grateful for marrying you! I love you!” You quickly replied as you went to hug him. “No you don’t.” Jisung pushed you off him, walking to the balcony with a smirk as he heard you run to him. “I-I do! Please, honey. I love you!” You exclaimed desperately. “Show me then. Show me how much you love me, how much you need me. How bad you want me.”

The next day, Jisung’s mood had taken a big turn. He was in glee and he was jumping around in excitement as he showed you around in the KL Forest Eco Park. The park had tall bridge that stood throughout the park. Jisung knew this was the moment.

After the guide would’ve made beautiful pictures of him and you, he would send you off to get some drinks for him and yourself. “Don’t you dare to fucking talk or look at anybody. I will notice immediately baby, you know that.” He threatened, before you kissed his cheek and ran off.

Jisung would not wait another second when people weren’t in sight anymore. He grabbed the guide by the throat, enjoying the view of him slowly losing colour in his face. “You’ve touched and looked too much at my wife, buddy. Big mistake. You shall be punished for your dumb actions. Jisung put the man in a hold and put his hand in front of the man’s mouth and nose, causing him to die from suffocation.

Jisung pushed the man over the robes, letting him drop down along the tall trees. He smiled to himself in content when he heard you cheer his name. “Where did the guide go to?” You asked him confused and innocently. “He went home early. Don’t worry my love. I will show you around our new home.” 

Felix:

Your husband is Australian, so it wasn’t a surprise to you that you would spend your honeymoon in Sydney. You had flown over to the hot city with Felix’s family. There was something about them that you didn’t liked. “Are we going to spend our entire honeymoon with your family?” You asked your husband as you flew over the big blue ocean. “Why?” He asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you want them to be around us?” He whispered as he leaned closer to you. “No.” You replied honestly, taking your husband by surprise.

“Excuse me-“ “I want to spend this time with you and only you. It’s our honeymoon after all.” You said whilst trailing your hand over Felix’s chest, making him slightly shiver by the sudden touch. “Such a good princess for me. You’re showing me so well how much you want me and only need me. I should reward you when we land.” He muttered against your lips. “You could show me right now?” You grinned whilst tucking on his shirt a little.

He grabbed your hand and held it in a tight grip, looking you deeply in the eye as you crumbled by his touch and vibe. “You better wait like the patient good princess I married, otherwise I might have to do something on my honeymoon, that we both might regret doing, now won’t we princess?” He threatened, putting you back in your place again.

Felix had taken you to the beach, he had spoiled you at his favourite mall and he had fed you with the best food from the best restaurants he knew and could find in his hometown.

He would be teasing you whenever you would try on something in a store.

“Baby, your butt seems too big for it. You should get another one and save this one for tonight.” Felix teases daringly, making you gasp.

“I hate you.” You said playfully, making his heart ache a little, but he was in public so he shook it off.

“It’s not good to lie to yourself my love, now tell me you love me.”

“No.” You teased back.

“Tell me you love me, because I’m paying for these.” He said with a smirk.

“I love you my handsome husband! You’re the best!” You yelled playfully as you hugged him. 

“That’s right.”

Right now you were in a mansion Felix had taken you to. You were outside on a bench, sulking a little bit about something, but you weren’t too sure what it was about.

“My love, why are you outside on your own? Don’t you want to be with me inside?” Felix asked as he stormed outside, after looking for you for ten minutes. “I was just thinking.” “About what?” Felix almost snapped, angry that you made him look for you. He felt like he almost had to punish you again. He found you ungrateful. He had spoiled you for the past few days, with gifts, food and loads and loads of love.

“Well, I’m still quite bothered by my parents not attending out wedding. They might not love you, but they at least could’ve been decent enough to show up at their own daughter’s wedding?” You exclaimed in distress. “Just forget about them, you don’t need them. You have me now and my family.” “About that, no offense but I rather would stay with just you than having your family around.” You confessed carefully. Felix felt back the smirk that was about to appear.

“Why?” “Well, I don’t know. I just want to be with you. Not with them.” You added. “And what about holidays?” Felix asked, sitting down next to you this time. “I don’t really care. I just want to be with you. You’re all I need, really.” You assured him as you leaned on him. Felix now had a smile plastered on his face, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Then let’s live right here.” Felix offered. “What-“ “This mansion, I actually bought it for us. My parent’s don’t even know about it. Nobody has to know about it. You don’t even know how happy you’ve made me, you only need me. Only me. I will care for you. I will protect you. Let’s do it.”

You looked at him in shock. You were overwhelmed with the sudden information he had shared with you just now. You don’t know what happened, but there was a certain look in his eyes that had you hypnotised. “Let’s do it.” You said, making him crash his lips on yours.

You were his now, you didn’t need anyone else. Just him.

Seungmin:

Seungmin is a twisted young man. Just like Hyunjin he felt a rush whenever he was taking someone out. He loved the rush of adrenaline and he couldn’t get enough, until he married you. There was no reason for him to kill people when he already had you wearing his last name. He loved to set people up against each other. He made sure you had no friends left at the end day. 

The ones at the wedding, were they even friends? You weren’t sure, but after the betrayal of your previous friends. He made sure they all knew that you were his and that there was no way they could come in between your relationship.

The only thing that could drive him crazy, was you still being able to leave. In your current apartment he had installed security cameras in every room, checking if you hadn’t run away from him. One day, in one of the first weeks you were dating, you had to leave for an emergency. Your friend had fainted and you wanted to check up on her. 

You left without a warning and Seungmin went out of his mind. He left your apartment, which he already had a key to, thanks to himself for copying it, to your friends place, which he had tracked down by your phone’s GPS.

He made a scene and dragged you back home. He explained, as he put on his puppy eyes, that he just missed you so much and that you had him worried. You couldn’t be mad at someone with big innocent eyes like your husband’s. He had you wrapped around his finger and he loved it.

When it came to your honeymoon, Seungmin had something planned. After a romantic wedding night he’d have drugged you in your sleep. He had perfected the formula by testing it on some of your old friends. Some had survived and simply didn’t remember what they did the day before. Others, never saw the day of light ever again.

The morning after the wedding night, just when he saw you wriggling around, he placed the cloth on your airways, your body relaxed back into a slumber, making Seungmin smile in content. Your things would be packed by movers as Seungmin carried your unconscious body to the airport, where he had arranged a private plane. He didn’t want to be around people, the chance of somebody recognizing him or you made him shake in anger.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed. The temperature was higher than you fell asleep, you focussed your eyes to notice that the ceiling wasn’t the same either. Your body shot up to see that you ended up in a whole different room. You suddenly heard the sea around you and jumped out of bed to check it out.

You gasped when you saw that you were far away from the shore. The house you were in was beautiful, but you confusion about how you got there.

“Do you like it?” A familiar voice asked you. You turned around to see your husband leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Where am I? How did I get here- how did we get here?” You asked frantically. Your husband calmly walked to you and planted a kiss on the top of your head. “You passed out for a whole day and the doctors said you’d be okay. You don’t even remember getting on a plane? You were excited to drink cocktails on our private yet- they must’ve put something in your drink. You fell asleep right after. I will sue them-“ “N-no, you don’t have to. Just- what is this?”

“I bought this for us. Your friends and family are toxic, that’s something we found out ages ago. Let’s stay here my love, we will have our happily ever after. I’ll provide for everything. Just ask and I’ll get it for you, if you will be the best girl for me and love me and always stay with me. You’re love and attention is mine, you belong to me. I love you so much princess. I think you could do that, can’t you my love?”

You and Seungmin were about to have a dinner date at your new house and you wanted to look good for him. You gasped when you saw the drawers full of makeup supplies. There was so much, you didn’t even use that much, but you didn’t care. Right now, you wanted to get ready for you date night.

After some time you had finished your makeup, but you weren’t sure of what lipstick you wanted to use,

You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed your husband in the reflection of your mirror.

“Do you like them? I based them all off the brand and the colours you told me once before that you liked.” He said proudly. 

“I love it, but can you help me with this lipstick?” You asked him whilst handing him a nude colour you liked.

“Sure.” He replied before taking it from you. And before you could protest was he applying the lipstick on his own lips.

“My love, you’re supposed to put it on me-” You were cut off by your husband who crashed his lips onto yours, making you giggle into the kiss.

“There,” He said proudly with a smile before taking a makeup wipe to remove the remaining lipstick from his own lips.

“Well, since when are you like this.” You asked hi in surprise.

“Ever since I married you my love.” He smirked, kissing you forehead,

“You look stunning honey.”

“All thanks to you, now shall we start our date night?” 

“After you my lady.” Seungmin smiled before taking you by the hand and start your romantic little date night. 

And he wouldn’t want ti any other way.

Jeongin:

Your honeymoon with your husband was quite simple. Since you had an extravagant wedding. You absolutely loved your wedding and you couldn’t be more thankful for him arranging it with your wedding planner, who you hadn’t seen at the reception. You had reassured him, when he felt anxious, that the wedding was perfect. Your family had left that night back home, whilst you and Jeongin stayed in Busan to have your honeymoon there as well.

Jeongin had surprised you with a penthouse the night on your wedding. It was quite close to the beach, having view over the big ocean that it laid connected to the country. You were in awe by the view and by your husband who managed to arrange this for you as well. “I thought you were out of money?” You questioned him as you laid together on a lounge outside. “When it comes to you? Never. I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Only if you love me. You do love me, right?” “Only you.” You assured, kissing his lips sweetly as you smiled at him.

Unlike the other, like Jeongin having you in public. He didn’t want to hurt people unnecessary, but he wanted to show you off as if you were his most prized possession. You were still forbidden to have any male friends or contact with any other males besides him or some relatives that Jeongin had approved of.

Y/n’s best friends were some Jeongin didn’t approve of, but since the prohibition only applied to males, he couldn’t stop you. Your friends had been checking on you ever since they left the wedding and it made him fucking mental. He wanted them gone right now, or else he would have to punish you. And since you didn’t exactly do anything wrong, so he just needed to take out the problem.

What you didn’t know was that Jeongin had many assassins hidden in the city. In every corner there would be someone who watches you when you were out. Jeongin would let you explore the city on your own as he felt a little ‘unwell’. In reality he took care of that horrible friend of yours.

“You’re nosy.” Jeongin started as he had her tied down in a warehouse. Her crying state satisfied him. “If only you weren’t so clingy, this is your fault. If you just left my wife alone, I wouldn’t had to do this.” Her screams were like music to his ears as his assassin slowly took her out. He wanted her to suffer. She took so much precious time away from you, he could’ve gotten attention or love from you at those times.

“You will take it from here, right?” He asked his assassin, who nodded in confirmation. The girl screamed out in fear, muffled by the cloth was wrapped around her face. “Until never again!” Jeongin yelled, before he left. You could return home anytime soon.

Jeongin dragged his body out of bed when he heard you walk in. You came into the penthouse with loads of shopping bags. You pouted as you saw your husband in his unwell state and walked up to him to pull him in an embrace. “My love, did you have a nice day?” Jeongin asked whilst coughing, which made you pout again. Sad that your husband wasn’t feeling too well. “I would’ve been much happier if you would be there to share the day with me.” You whined as you hugged him. 

“Now, how are you? Did the fewer go away?” You asked whilst checking his forehead with your hand. “I don’t think your hand does the job, I heard lips would work. Especially yours.” Jeongin whispered, making you giggle before kissing his forehead. “I promise to take you out tomorrow.” Jeongin sighed as he hugged you tighter.

“You should get better first. I don’t want you to be sick and walking around.” You said in a worried tone. “Shall we stay in our penthouse tomorrow then?” Jeongin offers. “Ours? You mean you bought this place?” “Of course my love, it’s perfect. It’s highly secured, it has a great scenery and we have everything we need up here. I provided for everything my love.” Jeongin assured as he kissed the top of your head, before you wen to bed to relax.

It was a hectic day for the both of you.

The next day you woke up in Jeongin’s arms. You immediately checked his forehead and you smiled to yourself when you felt that he didn’t had a fever anymore. Suddenly, your wrist was grabbed by your husband who just woke up as well, pulling you even closer to him. “Good morning my love.” “Good morning to you too handsome.” You whispered back before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

He loved simple morning like this. He loved how the two of you could make it through a whole day with just cuddling and kissing. Jeongin might be a yandere, but the baby is soft when it comes to you.

You would spend the day by swimming in your private pool, whilst enjoying the view, which was basically each other. I mean look at him. He’s a really handsome young man and you surely wasn’t going to deny it. “Imagine being attractive.” He would often tease whenever you called him handsome. “Lucky you then, you don’t even have to imagine.” You would reply with a smirk. “W-wait, what?” Jeongin would be taken back by your sudden act of confidence as you swam around. “You heard me.” You said back as you wiggled your eyebrows playfully to him. “Come here you brat.” Jeongin muttered under his breath, before chasing you, making you squeal when he had caught you.

He peppered your face with kisses as he told you he loved you. 

You were his now. 

And nothing would stop him from keeping it that way.

A/N: Credits to the many otp prompts I randomly found on Tumblr.

Gifs aren’t mine.

I hope you liked it <3

@daebakshinki @klynvan

[powerstrangerdacre]

Last one

Summary:

“Replace you? Him?”

“Barton... That hawk awlays circled you like you were some sort of prey.”

“You were jealous? Of Clint?”

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Cursing. Angst with a fluffy ending. :3

Wordcount: 3500+ (holy shizzle)

AN: ‘Ello! So... this was supposed to be a blurb and then I kinda got carried away and it turned into... well... this. Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know what you think! ;)

Thank you @imnotusedtobeingloved for requesting this! I love you hun! I hope you like it!

The moment she heard those two words, her world came crumbling down. Her eyes widened, wet tears slipping down her cheeks. Loki… he was gone. The trickster hadn’t managed to trick death.

“I’m very sorry, Lady Y/N. I know how close you were.”

If only Thor actually knew… Y/N and Loki weren’t just… close. They were in love. They had managed to overcome the past and just… be. But now it was all in ruins.

Y/N nodded, shutting her eyes as she tried to hold herself together. He had promised that he would come back. He promised. “Thank you… Thor. You didn’t need to come all the way here just to tell me that,” she said.

Thor shook his head. “Loki… he insisted on it. He wanted me to deliver a message.”

She looked at the God, eyes hopeful. Maybe this was some sort of game. Maybe he was just… trying to escape something. Maybe he thought she would be the only one to be able to decode what this was really about.

“He said… he loved you.” Thor’s eyes seemed sad, his shoulders were slumped. He was defeated. “I guess he never got to tell you.”

Y/N should’ve been surprised, but she was just heartbroken. Loki didn’t plan this out. It wasn’t some elaborate trick he was pulling on them. This was… real.

She stood up, vision foggy and unfocused as the tears threatened to fall once again. “Thank you, Thor,” she said before she left the room.

The rest of the week she spent locked up in her room. She didn’t care about the missions, she didn’t care about eating or drinking or taking showers. She was just a shadow of the strong person she used to be. Clint was the first to notice that she was taking the news harder than someone who was just mourning a friend.

He made his way to her room, a sandwich in one hand, a bottle of Tony’s most expensive whiskey in the other. He knocked on the door, asking FRIDAY to open it when he got no response. “I’m sorry, Sir. Agent Y/L/N has asked not to be disturbed,” the AI told him. That was the last straw for him. He had left her alone to wallow in her self-pity for too long, she definitely needed a pick-me-up. “Would you be a peach and override that for me FRIDAY?” he asked and in no longer than five seconds, the door was open.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn and it smelled like someone had died in there. Shards littered the floor, a picture frame laid broken in front of him, with no picture inside it. The thought that maybe they were something more had entered Clint’s head, but it simply didn’t make sense. They had seen each-other only four times that he knew of, two of which didn’t seem all that nice.

“Y/N?” he called into the room. He could hear the rustling of bedsheets, then a lamp lit up, allowing him to see the actual mess.

Y/N smiled at him, a broken smile, blood-shot eyes and tear-stained cheeks telling him the story. Her smile fell as soon as she realized it was only Clint. She realized this wasn’t just a nightmare. It had become her sad reality.

“Oh, peach… What did he do to you?” He made his way over to her, leaving the alcohol and the food on the table.

“He’s… he’s not coming back this time, is he?” she asked.

Clint chewed on his lower lip, saddened by how weak his best friend looked. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to answer. But the silence was enough of an answer for Y/N. It was all she needed to break down again, hanging onto Clint for dear life as he shushed her, rubbing soothing circles down her back.

When she finally calmed down, Clint went to grab the bottle of whiskey. Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, knowing he wasn’t really one for drinking. “Hey, it’s an emergency,” Clint shrugged.

No less than an hour later, the bottle laid empty beside her bed and her and Loki’s story was out in the open. She had told Clint everything. Every little detail of their short, yet meaningful friendship and how it escalated into something more without either of them wanting it to. She told him about the times he had helped her during missions, about the times he had saved her life. And she told him about the times where she had woken up to him screaming, calling out for help while he was still asleep. Clint sat stock-still, mouth hanging slightly open as Y/N wiped the last of her tears.

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a chuckle.

Clint’s mouth clanked shut, an unbelieving smile pulling at his lips. “I’m sorry, peach, it’s just…” he thought about the right words to say. Telling her that it was surprising that she had been so good at hiding this would probably end up in her crying again, telling him how she wished she hadn’t hid, how she would’ve gotten to spend more time with him if they had just openly admitted to their relationship. “I just never thought you had a thing for bad boys with questionable taste in jewelry,” Clint said, settling on something he thought she would find funny.

And she did. Y/N chuckled lightly, shoving Clint slightly. “He wasn’t that bad,” she said.

Clint’s eyes widened comically, not believing the words that were coming out of her mouth. So many times had they made fun of the trickster for his horns, and now this? “You must’ve really loved the guy,” Clint said, making Y/N shrug. “I mean come on, Y/N. The horns? The gold, green and black armor? I thought we both at least agreed that he had horrible taste.”

Y/N laughed. “I guess he did,” she said, shaking her head.

Clint continued hanging out with her, getting her to go out, making her laugh. He did everything he could think of to just have her forget about the pain and the sorrow she was going through. And it seemed like she was getting better.

If only she didn’t have to go back to her empty bed every damn night. If only she didn’t cry herself to sleep. Then maybe she would’ve believed that she was getting better. But she never forgot about Loki. And she knew she never would.

To say that she wasn’t the least bit excited when she heard that Thor was coming back would be an understatement. She hated the fact that he would be there to remind her of what she had lost, and it got even worse when she got word that he wouldn’t be leaving.

The ship had just arrived, and Clint had forced her to go say hi. If only she could’ve cooped herself inside of her room for the rest of her life, she would’ve.

She walked to the landing pad, expecting to see a small ship, only to be met with the largest, fanciest thing she had ever seen in her life. People in weird clothes littered the gardens of the Avengers compound, and she was left baffled.

“What is this?” she asked Clint.

“Oh you didn’t hear? Asgard was destroyed because of Thor’s sister… Hella… or something,” Tony said, approaching her from behind.

“Oh…” The way he had said it made it seem like an entire realm hadn’t just been decimated. Like these people hadn’t just lost their homes.

“Also… your boyfriend’s back from the dead… Again…”

“Tony!” Y/N could basically feel Pepper shooting daggers in Tony’s direction, but her wide-eyed gaze was fixed on one certain black-haired man. Loki was looking back at her, a small smile on his lips as he helped one of the older women disembark the ship. She could see the longing in his eyes, feel the heat of his gaze on her skin. But it left her cold.

“Lady Y/N! Great news! Loki wasn’t dead after all!” Thor told her, arm wrapping around her shoulder.

She walked away from him, making a 180 and walking inside the compound. That bastard…

The next few weeks passed in a blur. The Avengers had managed to relocate the Asgardians and were finally able to take a break. They had built and entire city from scratch, they definitely deserved it.

During the entire building process, Y/N had managed to avoid Loki by hanging around Clint, who seemed more wary of the God than even before. Obviously, this didn’t go unnoticed by Loki.

He hated the fact that she could go this far. He hated that he couldn’t make amends for what he had done to her. He hated that she wouldn’t even allow it for him to try. And he hated the fact that she seemed so much happier around Clint than she had been around him.

Her smile was brighter than ever, her laughter like a sweet melody to his ears after the long time they had spent away from each-other. He longed for her soft touch and smile-kissed voice as she told him she loved him. But that was just a dream to him, for now.

Clint definitely noticed Y/N’s change of attitude whenever Loki was around. Her eyes seemed to follow him everywhere, her eyebrows furrowed as she spoke words of hatred towards he ex-lover. But there was also something else. A type of fondness hidden underneath the layers of disdain in her eyes. A longing in her voice underneath the curses she spewed. The warmth of love underneath the searing heat of loathing.

“God I just… I wish I could get my hands on him. I’d cut his head right open and dissect his brain… just to find out what the heck he was thinking!”

Another hateful sentence, another day, same spiel. If he were to tell her the truth, he wished she would just get over it and go kiss that asshole senseless. Clint had had it with Loki’s longing looks and Y/N’s anger. He wouldn’t tell her that though. He still wanted to live.

“Look, peach…” Clint started, “You know I hate him just as much as any other person… but maybe you should talk to him… let him explain.”

Y/N’s gaze shot to Clint, eyes wide as though he had grown another head. “Why the hell would I do that?!”

“I don’t know…” Clint sighed. “Maybe you guys could make up… If not… then you could at least get some closure.”

Y/N hummed. Sure, she hadn’t expected something like that from her best friend… but maybe he was right. Or maybe Loki would only lie more.

The Avengers’ down-time was coming to an end… No, it had already ended, and Clint had to leave for a mission, leaving Y/N alone to fend for herself. “Maybe you’ll finally get the guts to actually talk to him,” he had told her. “Yeah… sure… Or maybe I’ll end up in prison for killing one of my team-mates,” she answered. Clint chuckled as he walked to the Quinjet, his walk turning into a slow jog as Natasha yelled at him to hurry up. “Hey, you wouldn’t go to prison. I’d make sure it looked like an accident, maybe help you hide the body.” And with that he had left, making Y/N sigh as she watched the jet fly into the night sky.

Loki was obviously watching. Because, when was he not looking out for her? And as soon as he saw that the only interference had left, he made his way to her room. He got there before her, sitting himself down on her bed. He noticed the picture they had taken together was no longer in the frame he had bought her. Instead there was a picture of her and Clint, smiling into the camera. That’s when he realized that maybe Clint wasn’t the interference anymore. The one fiddling in other people’s business was him.

He went to stand up, but it was too late. Y/N had entered her room, eyes falling directly on him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, voice dangerously low.

“I just… I wanted to speak to you,” he said, setting the frame back on her nightstand.

Y/N rolled her eyes. Hadn’t he noticed that talking was the last thing she wanted to do? “Maybe you should’ve tried talking to me sooner. Like… before you went and faked your death,” she growled as she went to take off her training gear.

“About that…” he walked behind her, trying to help undo her straps only to get glared at. It hurt him. She had trusted him to do that before. But now… now was another story. “I did want to tell you, darling. I just… never got the chance.”

“Oh… never got the chance… okay,” she said, “Then… how about the months after that? How about you sent me an intergalactic message?”

“I did try writing a letter… a few times. I just… never exactly knew what to write.”

Y/N scoffed. “Okay, well… How about: ‘Hey, I’m alive. Disguised myself as Odin. Thor will be so surprised when he finds out. LOL XOXO’? That would’ve sufficed.” Her hands fiddled with her utility belt, throwing it to the floor with a loud clank.

Loki flinched as the sound rung in his ears. “Look, I understand that you’re angry…”

“ANGRY?! Oh boy, I’m far from angry. I’m furious!” she yelled, “Did you even stop for one second to think: ‘Hmm… maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Maybe I shouldn’t.’ Did you even think about how I would feel?! Or did you just… not care?” Tears were threatening to fall by now, but she was determined not to let him see her like that. She had cried too much for someone who cared too little.

“I did care! I just…”

“You didn’t, Loki! The only thing you did care about was the throne!” she interrupted him. “You are so obsessed with this idea of becoming a great ruler! Obsessed that you’ll only be great when you’ll be one! So stupidly attached to this… crazy concept… that you don’t stop to think about the consequences your actions will have on those who already think that you’re great!” Her chest heaved and her muscles tensed as she pushed him back with both arms. “You don’t stop to think! That’s why you lose the people that care about you!”

Loki’s eyes widened as she spoke the truth to him. Something that not a lot of people had the courage to do, some out of fear of what he could do to them, others out of fear that they could set him off. But she never had that problem. She always spoke her mind. It had been one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her. “I… I just wanted to say that I missed you.”

Suddenly, Y/N was quiet. “You missed me?” she asked.

Loki smiled sadly. “Of course I did. Contrary to what you believe, I actually care about you.”

Her eyes narrowed, her fists trembled as she inhaled slowly, deeply. “Tough fucking luck,” she whispered. “I missed you too… for months. I cried for you and I mourned you. I used to dream that you would come back to me and then I’d wake up to a horrible reality that you never would…” Her lips trembled as she thought about the most horrible time in her life, and how she would’ve ended if it weren’t for Clint. “And then you just show up like nothing ever happened! You didn’t even try and explain yourself.” She was on the verge of breaking down, but at the same time she felt empty. She didn’t know which one was worse. “You don’t care about me Loki. You never did.” She turned around, sitting down on her bed, hands cradling her head

Loki didn’t know what to do anymore. His heart was breaking for the girl in front of him. And at the same time, it was breaking for himself as well, falling into little shards of what they could have been, had he not messed everything up because of a stupid wish to be greater.

He kneeled down in front of her, hands reaching for her own shaking ones. “I did want to explain myself. I did want to talk to you,” he said. Her eyes looked into his, and he could feel the shards poking right through his chest. “But then I saw you and him, and I knew you had moved on to greater things. You replaced me and I only have myself to blame.”

Suddenly, her eyes were looking into his. Searching for something that only his lips could say. “Replace you? Him?” she asked.

“Barton. That hawk always circled you like you were some kind of prey, even before I was gone… and I…” Loki trailed off. He looked into Y/N’s eyes, so startled at all the disdain he saw in them that he let go of her hands.

“You were jealous?! Of Clint?!” she asked. Loki’s gaze found the floor, the wooden boards suddenly more interesting than anything in the room. Y/N took his silence as an answer. “Of course not…Even if you were jealous, you could’ve talked to me… so don’t you dare blame this on Clint. It was your own cowardice that held you back. Not jealousy.” She stood up walking towards her door, opening it. “Even if you were jealous, you didn’t have the right. Not anymore,” she said. Her eyes watched as he walked towards her, looking dejected.

“I don’t have the right?” he questioned.

Y/N nodded, lips pulled into a frown. “The moment you did… that…” she trailed off, swallowing drily. “I don’t even know how I handled it. You were dead, then you were not… But in a way, you’re still dead,” she said.

“Don’t do this, darling. I’m alive. I’m here. We can still be together.”

Tears trailed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the room. “That’s the thing, Lo. We can’t. You killed the man I am in love with,” she said. “For all I care… you’re just another stupid dream.”

Loki should’ve known better. He should’ve known this was how it would all end. He should’ve known that it would all turn to ash. But those seven little words she had managed to let slip… Those words brought him comfort. ‘The man she is in love with’. She still loved him, as much as she wished she didn’t. And with that promise, he knew he could fix everything.

He went to walk out of the room, but before she could close the door he grabbed her, pulling her in closely. Her warmth enveloped him, her tears falling slowly on his chest. “I know I hurt you. I understand that you hate me. But if there’s even the slimmest chance that I could fix all this… If there’s even a sliver of love for me inside your heart, please, let me try.”

Her hands grabbed at his shirt, tugging at the seams as her breathing hitched. She shouldn’t. She should know better. She couldn’t trust him. He didn’t care. That’s what her mind told her, but the beat of her heart was whispering one thing: I love him.

She glanced up at him, his green eyes blurry in her tear-filled sight. He took that chance, leaning his head in and pressing his cold lips to her own warm ones. His kiss was not at all like the ones they had previously shared. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sensual. His lips moved against hers with a passion that ignited the spark of the fire she had been trying to extinguish. And she knew that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to forget him. She would never be able to fully loathe him. His kiss promised sincerity. Realness. No more lies, no more tricks. With it he told her he knew exactly what he wanted. And what he desired wasn’t a throne or a crown or power. His only desire was to be close to her, and for her to let him cherish the fact that she’ll allow it.

When he pulled away, she was left breathless. No words formed in her mind or on her tongue. So, he broke the silence. “Give me one more chance. Let me try to be better,” he said.

“One more chance?” she asked.

“One last chance. It’s all I need.” His lips pulled into a smile, happiness overflowing from his heart in every corner of his body.

She looked at him, a smile on her lips. “One,” she said.

Needless to say, Thor and the rest of the Avengers were startled when they woke up the next morning to find Y/N nestled in Loki’s arms on the couch. But Clint could only laugh as he heard his and Nat’s phones ding with a multitude of messages, seeing her mouth fall open. For being the earth’s greatest superheroes, his friends could be so dense sometimes.

Taglist:

@artisticlales @theoneanna @imnotusedtobeingloved @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @sherala007 @kcd15 @drakesfiance @thequeenofgood

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [25] - {ShikaTema AU}

Sorry that this has taken such an awfully long time to write, but I hope it’s okay nonetheless! This chapter goes out for the wonderful @shikanaradai - happy birthday :)

[ READ / COMMENT on AO3 ]

Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The smoke filtered through the window as he perched on his windowsill, knees up against his chest as he stared out at the clear sky. Finally, it had stopped raining, and the clouds—lighter and brighter—drifted with as little purpose as they had before the storms had crawled in. And while usually he’d always be glad to sit and watch them float endlessly, his own puffs of smoke joining them every once in a while, today Shikamaru was glad that he had something to do. Well, more glad that he was doing something with her.

From the pocket of his jeans buzzed his phone, reminding him he had only a little time to daydream before he had to make a move, and he was amazed himself that he wasn’t ready to go right now. Upon his eyes opening a mere crack, Shikamaru had woken up instantly in the knowledge that it was Saturday; that she had something planned for him, and that today he got to be with her.

But he had forced himself to calm down. He couldn’t let himself get too sappy. How exactly he was meant to take what his father had said to him a few days ago, he wasn’t sure. Shikamaru certainly still believed it was way too early to say that he loved her, but his constant awareness of how long it would be before he saw her again was undeniable. Nothing compared to what surged through him every time he saw her laugh or her lips even curl up into the tiniest smile. He’d switch out watching the clouds for making her laugh any say of the week.

He felt like a sap.

He absolutely hated it.

With a gentle tap Shikamaru dropped ash into empty aluminium can sat on his bedside table beneath him, and took a long drag. She’d said to meet her at twelve-thirty and it was ten-to-twelve now, and despite being desperate to go he couldn’t help being scared to move. It was just Temari—he knew that—and he’d go no matter what, but what if her perception of him had changed after what he’d done on Thursday. He wasn’t like that, he didn’t just walk in and pounce on people, and he could only hope that she didn’t think that was all he wanted from her.

“Relax, man,” he mumbled to himself, taking a drag. He let out a long breath through the open window and shivered as the wind hit his face. “Just fucking chill out…”

There was a gentle rapping on the door, and before he could answer the latch clicked and a voice sounded, low and controlled.

“Shikamaru?”

He looked up. “Shut the door or the smoke alarm will go off.”

Shikaku chuckled. “I just came to give you the keys.” He annoyingly clattered them in his palm.

“Thanks.” 

“But before you go,” he sighed, “I have one more question about her.”

Shikamaru grunted in response. It took almost everything in his brain to stop his fingers quivering with nerves.

“Is she pretty?”

With a smile he met his father’s dark eyes, nodding slowly. “Very. Ridiculously, to be honest.”

“Nice friends?”

He took a drag, raising his eyebrows as smoke clouded his words. “Careful or you’ll sound like an old perv.”

“My son the comedian,” muttered Shikaku as he threw the keys onto the bed.

There was a chuckle between the pair as the young man put out his cigarette on the aluminium. “I don’t know any of her friends. Two brothers though.”

“They scary?”

He shrugged, dropping the stub through the can’s opening. “I’ve only met one and he’s the sort of guy who pulls his hood up over his baseball cap, so…”

Shikaku chuckled, his weight pressed against the wall. “I really should stop you smoking in your damn room,” he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Your mother would kill you if I told her you still did this.”

“But you won’t.”

Shikamaru smirked as he hopped off the windowsill and tore off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly onto the bed beside his father. He turned away, reaching into his wardrobe to grab the khaki sweatshirt which he drowned in, but before he could pull it over his head Shikaku piped up.

“Christ, son,” he chuckled. “Your back is raked up. What have you…”

With his arms halfway in, the young man froze, turning to face his father with bright red cheeks. Shikaku was biting his lip, forcing himself to hide an unsurprised grin, but Shikamaru wasn’t nearly as cheerful. He’d thought that by now the scratches she had made—that he’d been so conscious of on Thursday night—would’ve disappeared completely. Even if they hadn’t, the least they could do was be faint enough by now that his father’s hawk eyes wouldn’t register them. Obviously, from the snickers that slowly grew in volume, his body hadn’t been so kind to him. 

He froze and slowly turned around, utterly speechless upon seeing how high his father’s eyebrows were positioned on his forehead, and the snide grin on his face.

Shikaku shook his head. “You sly bastard…”

“Dad, it’s not like—”

“They’ve lasted a long time. Must’ve hurt like a bitch on Thursday, huh?”

Shikamaru pulled on the sweater quickly and crossed his arms, desperate to avoid this. “Oi, Dad. Let’s not do this again, yeah?” he huffed. “I am twenty-three. You don’t have to care.”

“And I couldn’t care less, don’t worry,” chuckled his father, a cheerful and mischievous glint hidden behind his suddenly blander expression. “As long as you’re happy, son, I’ll leave you to whatever rutting you decide to partake in.”

“Fucking rutting?” spat Shikamaru, his eyes firmly lulling to the back of his skull. “Honestly, Dad, just stop talking.”

He did an awful job at stifling a laugh at his son and swiftly got to his feet, making a beeline for the door. “Watch yourself with her though, son. Strong women often feel so much more than they show you.”

“And by that you mean?”

“By that I mean be careful.” He twisted the doorknob, twisting his head to shoot his son a warm smile. “I want you to be happy, but your mental state is always my priority kid. Always will be.”

Unsure of how to respond, Shikamaru grabbed the keys off of his bed and nodded, jangling them as his father had done before. “I need to get going.”

“Be careful, son.”

~~~

There had been radio silence for the last twenty-four hours, and as she stood alone in the crisp air outside the pub, already lively with jolly friends and families having lunch, Temari couldn’t help feeling forgotten. He’d been early for their date earlier in the week. Why wouldn’t he be early when he didn’t have to come on foot?

Maybe he thought it was a bit pathetic that, despite her brother being elsewhere today, she asked him to get her from the pub instead of her front door. Or maybe he’d broken down somewhere? Or he’d forgotten about her entirely?

“Oh, shut up, girl,” she muttered to herself. “He’ll be in traffic or something—yeah, traffic…”

Temari jumped as she heard an angry beeping and began rummaging through her bag to find the source. Please don’t be him, she wished as she fished it out, and answering her pleas, Gaara’s name flashed across the screen. She viciously swiped and held it to her ear.

“What do you want?”

“Morning.”

“It’s afternoon, Gaara.”

There was a chuckle. “I just called to ask where you are? I woke up and you and Kankuro were gone.”

“Of course I do,” she sighed. “I’m out.”

“Where?”

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

“You don’t,” he replied, “but you’re making yourself sound suspicious.”

Temari rolled her eyes, landing them on an approaching car; small and red, boxy and a little rusty. She turned to look at herself in the reflection of the window. “Don’t be annoying.”

“I’ll be out tonight. I’ve got a date.”

“Good for you.”

“Don’t be harsh on me,” Gaara complained. “It was Kankuro that—”

“I’m sorry, okay?” she whined, as engine whirring grew louder and more annoying. “I’ll wait up for you tonight if you like. And tell Kankuro if he comes back not to try and call me again. I already have to pass him in the hallway and given that he’s not going to listen to me anyway, I’m not up for talking to him.”

“He’s only trying to reconcile and—”

“I know, but it still isn’t okay.” Temari sighed. “I’ll see you later.”

There was a beat.

“Love you, Tem.”

Slowly her lips curved up. “Love you, too. Enjoy your date.”

“You too…” Gaara winced down the line. “I mean, um, thank you.”

She hung up with a groan, smirking to herself at Gaara’s awkwardness. God, what would she do without him to put a smile on her face?

Meanwhile, as he pulled up alongside her, Shikamaru switched off the radio and leaned across the gearstick, panting as he manually rolled down the window and hoping by the time he finished he would’ve stopped himself grinning like an idiot. But eventually he ended up staring at her back nervously, waiting for her to look up from her phone, and the blonde didn’t seem to notice anything around her had changed in the slightest. As she slid her phone into her bag she looked through the pub’s window, adjusting her hair.

Anxiously, Shikamaru cleared his throat and sat back. “Your hair looks fine.”

Temari spun around with a start, gaping. “Christ, Shikamaru!” she gasped. “How did you creep up on me in that?”

“I hardly think I did,” he offered, and she smiled in return, yanking open the door with all her strength.

“This car is a bit shit, isn’t it?”

“Trust me: I’m perfectly aware of that,” he laughed. “But you asked for a lift so don’t get fussy. Besides, you know deep down that you weren’t expecting anything good.”

Temari flopped into the seat and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, how are you doing?”

“What was it you said the other night about enjoying the silence?” He smirked, pulling away from the side of the road, and the woman beside him gave an impatient sigh. “I’m alright though, thanks,” he said, “but I have no idea where I’m meant to be taking you.”

“And you don’t have a sat-nav, do you?”

Shikamaru simply had to raise his eyebrows and laugh. “In this?”

“I didn’t think so,” she chuckled, prying her phone from her bag. “It’s fine I’ll direct you.”

“Can’t you just tell me where I’m going?”

As she looked over at him, his eyes stared ahead, so wide and cheerful with the same excitement fuelling his bright smile. Temari couldn’t help but mirror him, both in appearance and emotion. Ever scrap of anger at her brother vanished when she locked onto that grin. His satisfaction made her feel so light and carefree, to the point where even in moment she moved out of his sight that feeling remained. It was contagious, this feeling of euphoria he gave off. 

And yet she was about to direct him somewhere it was bound to vanish upon arrival; somewhere where the happiness in his eyes might instantly be replaced with pain. How could she laugh along with him with that knowledge? Surely that was just cruel.

Softly, she giggled and looked back at her phone, but Shikamaru kept his sharp, stubborn going as he spoke, “Unlike you I’ve lived here my whole life, Tem. I know this town.”

Temari sighed. “Just take a right.”

“Temari…”

“Take a right, Shikamaru.”

A chill flew up his spine as he registered the discomfort her voice tried hard to mask, and he—somewhat unwillingly—relaxed his shoulders, flicking the indicator and turning right, just as he had been commanded. Along the long straight road that followed, as silence compressed the walls of the car in a way he couldn’t quite stomach, Shikamaru began to edge his hand across the gear stick. When his fingers tickled hers, Temari’s head snapped up to him, mouth suddenly dry. Nervously she let his fingers wriggle between hers and grip them slightly, and her whole body seemed to relax.

“Left up here,” she told him, a strange, girlish giggle clutching onto her voice. “Then keep going as if you’re leaving town.”

“Are we leaving town?”

Temari shook her head with a sigh. “Do you have any music?”

“No,” he shot back, far too quickly.

“You definitely do. You at least have the radio. Can’t we—”

“It doesn’t work,” he chuckled nervously, tightening his grip on her hand as if he thought she would try and escape. “Don’t even try it hasn’t worked for years.”

“Shikamaru, I’m not an idiot.”

“What?”

As he turned the corner, he reluctantly took his hand from hers to help him steer, and Temari took her opportunity to rush her index finger to the on button of the radio, only to find Phil Collins blaring out.

Shikamaru hastily turned it down and huffed, rubbing his neck as he halted at some traffic lights.

“I was not expecting that.”

“And what exactly were you expecting?”

Temari bit down on her lip, staring at his troubled face. “I don’t know...some deep, meaningful stuff, or some old punk music or something. I don’t know. Just not Phil Collins.”

“It’s Genesis, for fucks sake...” Pursing his lips, Shikamaru tapped on the steering wheel. “You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“You don’t,” she smirked, “but you’re going to.”

He rolled his eyes and continued on down the road. “I really liked Tarzan, okay? It just went from there.”

“So did I,” she said, “when I was a child.”

“Then don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging you.” Temari’s hand wandered over to brush her knuckles against his thigh, and she smiled kindly. “You’re just so strange I don’t know what to expect from you.”

“Thank you for the morale boost, Tem.”

“What? You are!”

“Plenty of people like Genesis and Phil Collins, and people like far worse things!”

“Wow, I have never heard you speak this passionately about anything...”

“Yeah, well you barely know me and you’ve only heard all my mental health bullshit before now,” he grumbled, turning off the soft music that resonated in the background. “It’s just music. It fills…silence.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Tem,” he sighed. When she looked over she expected his cold eyes to had softened, and felt a little disheartened when they hadn’t. “Besides, I don’t really care what you think anyway.”

Despite his words, she smiled to herself. He totally does.

Shikamaru ground his teeth as they approached the next junction. You totally do, idiot, he thought to himself. And now she thinks you’re a nerd.

“Right again?” he tried, clearing his throat.

“Yes, Mr. Dad-Rock.”

He quickly shot her a glare, and she burst out laughing, causing him to follow in quick pursuit.

How did she do that? Make him laugh at things that weren’t worth laughing about. Her teasing drove him insane, and yet he yearned for more. When she turned the radio back on with a grin, Shikamaru chuckled to himself softly.

He was at her every beck and call, lost on this road without her, and somehow he was glad for it.

~~~

“Here! Pull over here!” Temari demanded, pointing to the lay-by they were approaching.

Shikamaru slowly eased over there with a sigh, and parked, turning to her, exasperated. “Temari, this is a housing estate.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, Shikamaru,” she managed through her nerves. “I wanted you to come and do something.”

So this wasn’t a date. He had totally got the wrong idea, hadn’t he? Why did he think that with Temari anything could just be as easy as getting in a car and going on a date? If there was some affectionate element to this escapade, he could tell that it wasn’t going to happen right now. A housing estate was hardly the most romantic of places, but was he meant to expect romantic? They weren’t together, after all. They were just two people who had done some things they probably shouldn’t, two people who’d got far more intimate than was appropriate, two people who found each other disasterously attractive…

But did that mean anything at the end of the day? Was he tying her down in the same way he felt compelled to do right by her? Something in him told him no, but there was this other, nagging crevasse in his brain taking charge, forcing him to think positively.

Because maybe, despite what he’d said, she wanted him to meet people; her friends or her family. Oh, what a horrendous idea that sounded, and an idea that he definitely wasn’t up for.

But at least, if that was the case, she really did care about him as much as he cared about her.

“I already told you, Tem, that I’m not ready to meet your—”

“It’s not Gaara,” she interrupted, tutting at his predictability. “Come on. It won’t take long.”

He watched her hop out of the car and, with a huff, mirrored her actions. He slammed the door shut thrice—it taking its usually excessive time to properly close—and leaned on the top of the car, watching her walk away with her nose in the screen of her phone. A smile grew on his lips as he nervously tapped the metal with his fingertips.

“Oi!” She called back to him, waving for him to come closer. “Hurry up, flower boy.”

With a shake of his head, the young man knocked on the roof, cocking his head slightly to one side. “I don’t appreciate that,” he laughed back.

“Don’t appreciate what?”

“‘Flower boy’, obviously.”

“Tough, now come on.” She held out her hand behind her, expecting him to grab it, and when he finally caught up to her, a very slight spring in his step, he elbowed her with a smirk and kept walking. “Asshole,” she spat, snickering to herself.

“That’s right.” Shikamaru shoved his hands into his pockets, elbow brushing against her arm every few moments. “Now, can you tell me what exactly is happening?”

Temari slowed her pace to keep beside him, chewing on her lip. “We want number 40,” she mumbled, her fingertips brushing his.

She couldn’t help but worry, and not just the subtle feeling of butterflies in the tummy kind of worry. This was full blown, palms sweating, knees ready to give out from guilt worry. What if this wasn’t helpful, and only upset the pair of them? What if she’d lead him into a situation in which he grew more panicked or upset than she’d ever seen him be? It would be entirely her fault—could she handle that? She wasn’t sure she could.

But it was too late now. As they paced along the pavement, their steps becoming synchronised, Temari’s heart began to beat faster. His eyes scanned the doors of each house, and she wondered what he thought was happening. He must’ve had a million ideas, and she was sure none of them were less enjoyable for him than what she actually had in store.

Her toe caught on the edge of the pavement and she stumbled slightly, immediately sending her whole body into panic mode. She should’ve turned them both around and taken them to the movies or something, or grabbed yet another unhealthy meal to tide him over until the next time she fancied scrutinising him.

However, just as it had been a moment before, it was too late—far too late—and Shikamaru started to slow, raising his arm.

Temari gulped, totally unprepared for what was to come.

All she could do was act like this was normal. It wasn’t. It wasn’t in the slightest.

“Well that’s 38,” he sighed, pointing to their left, “so that one must be…”

Shikamaru stopped, silent as he stared at the house before him. The figure in the window downstairs, her back to them, looked so impossibly familiar, and as her profile came into view before she left his line of sight, Shikamaru’s worst nightmare set in motion.

“Tem, tell me that this isn’t her house.”

“Who’s house?”

“Kurenai’s house. The lady I saw on the bus.”

Temari rested her head on his shoulder, threading her fingers through his so carefully it was as though they might crack. Right now, for all she knew, he might crack hers. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Okay,” he wheezed, an uncomfortable smile coming and going from his face in a matter of seconds. “I’m definitely not going in there.”

“Yes you are, Shikamaru.”

“I’m bloody not.”

“Shikamaru,” she sighed, “all she’s going to do is say hello. You’re not going to upset anyone, and she definitely doesn’t hate you or anything. I mean come on!” Temari urged, squeezing his palm in hope it was more encouraging than her bossiness. “She literally tried to talk to you the other day without prompting.”

“To which I ran away.”

“Because you didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, because I’m a fucking coward.”

She frowned. “Shikamaru…”

“It’s Saturday, Temari,” he said, pointing at the framing window from which the figure had disappeared. “It’s her weekend. It’s her daughter’s weekend. They don’t want me intruding. I don’t know about you but I was brought up to respect other people’s privacy.”

Temari shot him a vile look. “Right that’s it.” She dropped his hand and adjusted the strap of her bag sharply. “I’m fucking done.”

“What?”

“I’m done,” she repeated, exasperation filling every inch of teal in her eyes. “I’m done trying to help you and having you not try to help yourself.”

“Temari…”

“No, Shikamaru. Don’t.” Her arms linked, crossed across her chest—a barrier he was yet to break through on his own. “I know I sprung this on you quickly, but there’s nothing I want more than for you to be okay so our whole situation can be guilt free—”

“Guilt free?”

“But when you refuse to even try to conquer this huge hurdle, how can I do that?”

“Do what?”

She didn’t answer. She simply turned slowly and pointed in the direction of his little, red rust-bucket.

His blood boiled, and his stomach knotted to the point he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but the look in Temari’s eyes overpowered every ounce of negative emotion in his body.

“Fine. Okay? Fucking fine!” Shikamaru stormed up to the door and knocked rapidly, and she could see his body immediately freeze as he rapped his wrist again the wood the final time.

Seeing the man shut down, his muscles as still as if they’d been made out of wax and unready for the pressure and heat they were about to receive, did nothing for Temari except bombard her with heaps of guilt. She’d forced him into this, and he’d been fine to ask know questions. Why she ever thought that he wouldn’t put up a fight, she didn’t know. Why she even considered deliberately guilting him into striding up to that looming red door and knocking made her feel so much more liable for someones pain and discomfort than for anything else in her entire life.

She’d laughed at Kankuro the day he broke his elbow, and the only thing she’d ever forced him or Gaara to do without the help of guilt was to go to therapy. So why if she could laugh off someone’s pain so easily did she fill herself with dread knowing she’d caused Shikamaru to be hit with a tonne of it instantaneously, even before he’d seen the face beyond that door? And why if she’d guilted her brothers into doing things for so many years  why did doing so to Shikamaru feel so criminal?

But she didn’t have time to lament to him her every thought, call him back and pretend this was all just a game of ‘knock down ginger’ as they sprinted back to the car. Before the young man could even turn to see the distressed look on Temari’s face, the loud click of s latch echoed, and the door flew open, the long black hair of Kurenai Sarutobi fluttering in the breeze instantly.

“Shikamaru...” she whispered in disbelief, her bright eyes widening as though she’d seen a ghost.

Despite his inability to run, Shikamaru didn’t have a clue what he was to say. After all these years surely there was so many things she deserved to hear fly from his lips, but ultimately he just nodded. As he bit down hard on his lip, he knew there was only one thing that connected every thought that flew through his mind.

“I, um...” He stopped himself, hand edging towards the back of his neck. Three words had never come less easily when he was so desperate to say them. “I won’t bother you long, but I—uh!”

Never could he have expected the gigantic hug the lady had enveloped him in, but in only a few seconds he felt himself warming, softening his shoulders into her hold. It took no time for him to hug her back, and wrap his arms tightly around the older woman’s torso. Somehow, now, it felt like seeing a family member, despite the fact he was almost certain less words had been exchanged between them in the last ten years than in the last ten seconds, and Shikamaru immediately felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as the weight of her head rested on one.

But it didn’t take long for a shiver down his spine to appear, combatting any warmth the hug had mustered. As the piercing eyes of her daughter stared Shikamaru out, Kurenai pulled away from him, softly smiling beneath the many layers of surprise. But he could barely take his eyes off of that little girl and the structure of her face, the glare and the book in her hands—that was Asuma’s daughter. It was so impossible to think about. That girl was old—she was a baby, she was an actual child. Seeing her on the bus hadn’t given him time to let that sink in, but now he had no choice but to notice, and knowing that what happened was so long ago that she sat before him as she did provided some shift in his perception of all this. Not much, admittedly—he couldn’t work miracles on his own mind—but a little.

Then again, how was he still so damn pathetic about it after so many years? God, he thought as the little girl turned her attention back to her book, get your shit together, man.

Fighting the urge to force an awkward smile, Shikamaru ducked his head and shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “I, um,” he began, just about making eye contact. “Kurenai, I just wanted to say sorry.”

With a gentle frown and a slight smile, Kurenai squinted at him. “Sorry?”

“Sorry that I never came,” he added. “Like I told you I would. Back when...you know…” He coughed nervously, his eyes drifting towards his feet. “And sorry for many, many other things…”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Kurenai sighed, reaching for his forearm and tugging his sleeve slightly. “Please, come in.”

Shikamaru screwed his expression up, shivering as his shoulders tensed up. The little girl was back there. “Oh, Mrs Sarutobi, I count possibly—”

“Please, Shikamaru. Come in.”

Afraid and lost for words, Shikamaru turned to Temari, expecting her to say something that might save him from stepping through the threshold. Surely she wanted to do something else with him today other than this, or was her itinerary for the day exclusively filled with mental torture?

The gentle smile she gave him in return gave him the impression she had a mix of both on her mind.

“Your girlfriend can come in, too,” said Kurenai, letting his sleeve fall. “Please. Both of you. I would love to talk to you.”

Why did she want to see him? After this long?

Given that he could hear Temari’s boots clicking on the pathway up to the door, he could only assume the woman he so hated for bringing him here was wearing a fantastic grin to accompany the inevitable nodding she was doing. So, hesitantly, he took as step forward through the door and wiped his feet carefully before entering into the lounge. He could feel Temari looming behind him and hear the shuffle of her coat as he arms brushed against the doorway, but her presence did little to lighten his mood for a change. The little eyes staring up at him were far too powerful for her to work her usual magic.

It took little to notice his discomfort upon entering, and Temari made sure to squeeze his hand gently as she passed him, shrugging her coat from her shoulders and reaching out to shake Kurenai’s hand. “I’m Temari, by the way,” she said confidently, a bright smile across her face. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs Sarutobi.”

“Oh, please don’t—I’m not a work. I don’t need more people calling me that,” she laughed. “Call me Kurenai, Temari.”

Temari smiled. So she was a teacher, too? Interesting…

“Tea?” sounded Kurenai’s voice as she stepped backwards through the lounge. “Coffee?”

“Tea would be fantastic, please,” the blonde said, her voice far sweeter than she liked her tea. “Milk, no sugar for me, please?”

The kind woman nodded and turned her attention to Shikamaru, who still loomed in the doorway, hands in pockets, and firmly on the child who occupied a spot on the sofa.

“Shikamaru?”

When Temari said his name, he barely managed to turn his head to look at her. It was only when she grabbed his sleeve that he snapped round, confused.

“What?” he muttered.

Temari let the corner of her mouth raise. “Do you want coffee?”

He nodded slowly, looking at Kurenai for a moment then back toward the girl.

The older woman’s gentle eyes followed his gaze slowly, as did Temari’s, and set on the child with a gentle smile. Gently her voice sounded, and she stepped over to her daughter, a hand grazing the black hair that topped her little head. “Shikamaru,” she smiled, staring down at the girl, “this is Mirai. And Mirai, this is Shikamaru.”

Mirai looked up, a cute flush across her nose and cheeks. She pawed at her mother’s hands nervously before looking up, across the room at the young man who stood so incredibly still. “Shikamaru?”

His entire body shook as she said his name, and he’d never been more glad for Temari’s elbows to nudge him out of his freaked-out haze. 

“Yes,” said Kurenai. “He is one of daddy’s old friends.”

The sentence whipped through him, a wind in his sails which all at once lifted him up and sent him crashing down. It amazed him how he could feel so instantly lighter, and yet feel like the world was now pushing its weight even further onto his shoulders. Even more surprisingly was the indifference that laced Mirai’s eyes—a child who he’d been so afraid to meet, and so terrified to look in the eye, smiled at him and said a feeble, “Hello,” before turning her attention back to her book. She couldn’t care less who he was, or what he did. She didn’t know him before this very moment, and she had no idea what he had done in the past, but Shikamaru couldn’t decide if he felt better or worse for that.

“You have pretty hair, Miss,” mumbled Mirai, her bright eyes fluttering to Temari for a split second as her mother backed out of the room. 

Temari smiled and leaned forward slightly, raising her eyebrows. “Well, thank you. Your hair is very lovely, too.”

She heard Shikamaru snort as he finally started to slip his coat from his shoulders, and have him a swift elbow in the stomach to drop his backside onto the chair. With a groan he sighed and shook his head, and within seconds the little girl before them was giggling.

“Mummy said it’s wrong to hit people.”

“Well,” whispered the blonde, her thumb pointed at Shikamaru, “he is very annoying and makes fun of me, so I make an exception.” She bit her lip, cheeky, and squinted. “Is that fair, do you think?”

Without a second to think about it, a grin stretched across her chubby cheeks, Mirai nodded with another giggle.

Shikamaru nudged Temari desperate to look into her eyes, but as their gazes collided and her bright orbs stared him down, he was unsure whether to feel grateful or pissed off at what she’d done. This was, undeniably, one of the most unenjoyable moments he had spent with her. It probably even made it into the top ten worst moments of his life—or most awkward ones at the very least—and yet he wanted to smile at her. She didn’t look like she meant to upset him, and he had to believe that. He did believe that.

“You really threw me in at the deep end,” he muttered, his hand firmly on the back of his neck. As her fingertips dragged it away and gripped his tightly, a triumphant smile subtly staining her lips, Shikamaru couldn’t help adding an even quieter, “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, stupid,” she sighed. Temari rested her head on his shoulder momentarily, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “Next up on the agenda is visiting his grave.”

“Your sense of humour is vile, Temari,” he chuckled, whipping out the lighter that dug into his hip like a thorn.

Temari couldn’t help noticing he began to open and close it rapidly, an irritating clicking sound resonating through the room. In the silence, it was impossible to ignore, and Temari was moments away from snatching it from his grasp and stuffing it in her own pocket. But then, as she registered the way his jaw clenched, she remembered what Choji had told her when she met him; how he flicked it all the time, and that he did so for fun. But she could see now quite clearly that Choji wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was her time around so many nervous people given her job, or maybe it was just intuition after knowing him a short time, but it seemed to her like the lighter came out when he was nervous; like some sort of comfort blanket.

Admittedly it felt good to know he hadn’t done this around her before, and to know he felt less nervous with her than people he’d known years. It was possible that what he said about her bringing him calm was true, after all.

There was a little shuffling noise and the sound of mugs settling down on wood.

“That’s how I recognised you on the bus,” Kurenai said, sadly, plodding towards the pair with a mug in each hand. “The lighter, that is.”

“What is it?” Mirai asked timidly, following her mother’s eyes to the metal object. “I thought you said don’t play with fire, Mummy.”

“Shikamaru was friends with Daddy,” she said softly. “The thing he’s holding, the cigarette lighter; that was Daddy’s.”

A sincerely amazed look spread across Mirai’s expression, and she slammed shut her book to hop off of the sofa, dragging her little feet across the carpet to her mother. As the little girl reached up and grabbed the woman’s hand, Temari felt a sinister pang of jealousy in her chest. And, when the pair smiled, she could feel her throat tightening shut.

She wanted to cry looking at them, and while she had no place to tear them apart the desire to do so was overwhelming to her. It was rare, but upon seeing things like this, mothers and daughters together, that she yearned for the warmth of her mother’s hand in her’s. If some scrap of motherly love could drift her way she’d be pleased, but never would it happen; just as it hadn’t for the past decade or so.

But she missed her, so much, and hearing Kurenai’s words were nearly too much for her. The softness of her tone, just managing to shave off that patronising hint to reveal the pure affection and care that lay beneath. It was far too reminiscent of the sort of things she used to say to Gaara when they were children, and her mind flew to every night under the stars in their Godfather’s garden, every midnight meeting in the room her brothers shared to hold them until they calmed down, and all the times when she’d been the only one who understood; the only one who remembered.

As her mind had whirred around, Kurenai had sat down with Mirai, their arms around each other, and her mouth was moving as she spoke to the little girl. Temari could barely hear her over the guilt she wallowed in, jealous of this relationship. However, the gentle nudge of Shikamaru’s knuckle on the back of her hand brought her swiftly back to reality, and with a grateful smile she nudged him back.

Though neither of them noticed, they shuffled a little closer together, and immediately the room felt empty.

Smiling slightly, Kurenai looked up and over a Shikamaru. “I have to admit,” she said, “I’m amazed you still have it. That you kept it all this time.”

He scoffed, and with one final tap he flicked the lighter shut. “As if I was ever going to get rid of it.”

“He’d be very humbled.”

He nodded, knowing full well that her words weren’t an attempt at kindness, but rather just the truth. His palm wrapped around the metal, a calming cool against his hot hand, and the other found Temari’s by instinct. For a moment he worried if she would accept his plea to hold her, keep her there for what was undoubtedly going to be a difficult conversation for him not matter how kind Kurenai was. Why he had visions of the blonde snatching her hand away, he had no idea, because she grasped it quickly and squeezed wholeheartedly.

If at any point he felt uneasy, he had her. With one squeeze she would ground him, and he had never been more grateful for anybody in his life.

[isobel-thorm]

“Cruel, isn’t it?” :D

Here it is, the Punk Bitch Discord breaker of 2/22/19. 

We’ll Meet Again 

Ship: John Seed x Nic Raylan 

John wakes up one morning to find out that his entire life with Nic has been a dream, and her and their children are a figment of his imagination. 

Over the years, John had learned to take as much sleep as possible when he could. Having an energetic, natural born leader of a wife and three kids had driven that point home. So when he woke up on his own one Saturday without having two little brunette girls pounce on him or Nicolette hovering above him and waking him with a kiss and a to do list, something was off.

He opened his eyes wearily and turned to Nicolette’s side of the bed and found it empty- and made. She never made her bed lately. But something else seemed…even stranger. His eyes came into focus and he realized why. He hadn’t had those sheets since before the Collapse. As the rest of the room came into view, he found that the sheets weren’t the pnly changed things. It was his old bed, his old dresser, his old everything. Upon looking at the skylight, he found the sky a brighter blue, sans aurora. What the Hell? “Nicolette? Cal? Girls?”

No answer.

He got up and headed for the exit door into the hallway.

His old floors. His old decor. No single trace of his wife or kids anywhere. The place barely looked lived in. Just like… no.  But as he kept on moving around the house, the same went for everything within it. The house was pre-Collapse in all cases. Great, so this was some sort of nightmare. Or somehow it was probably a Bliss trip. But where had anyone found Bliss?Who would’ve dosed them?  He had gone into the great room and passed the dining table where that goddamn outdated landline still sat somehow. But even before it had gotten destroyed in the Collapse, it was useless. It was old and outdated and yet the only reason he had kept it was that damned voicemail that he refused to play. That damned red light would blink at him as a constant reminder of Joseph’s ever present hope…. And disappointment.

But there was no blinking. There was no light on at all. 

“What the Hell?” he found himself repeating. He looked up upon hearing some music coming from the floor below:   Vera Lynn- Til There Was You. It had been a joke a while ago between him and Nicolette. Addie had mentioned they didn’t have a song. The pair of them could’ve cared less,  but he had suggested We’ll Meet Again as a joke, and she  had promptly punched him in the arm and insisted that if they were going that cheesy, it was damn well going to be a different song of Lynn’s. Was this some sort of joke on Nicolette’s part? What was going on? He followed the music and pushed open the living room doors, fully expecting to see her.

What he got instead was Joseph, sitting on the couch, looking over a few papers. But he looked younger, less troubled- too much so. It pulled on his heartstrings until he realized Joseph wasn’t supposed to be there. He had been exiled from the area by him and Nicolette, he wasn’t welcome- and up until then, Joseph had respected that.

His heartstrings gave another yank, but in a far more angry direction. “Where’s Nicolette?”

Joseph’s head shot up, not having heard him. His eyes were even brighter tha he had seen them last weeks prior. “John.” It was said like a declaration, not a greeting.

“Where’s. Nicolette?” John repeated.

Joseph made an uncertain face and immediately crossed the room to stand before him. 

John tried to smack his hands away when his brother took his jaw in his hands and forced his chin down to examine a spot on his forehead. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, why the Hell wouldn’t I be?” John demanded. “Where’s my wife? Where are my children?! What have you done with her? Is this some sort of joke? You got sick of playing by her rules so you changed things? Who built this place?

“Wife? Children? You built this-” Joseph began, then guided him to the couch and sat him down. He leaned in too close, focusing on his eyes. “You need to rest again.” He reached out to John again.

John stepped back. “No, I don’t need to rest, I need to see my wife, what have you done to her?”

“John, you’re confused-”

“What. The Hell. Is going on?!” John repeated, and his head pounded at the effort.

“You tell me,” Joseph answered. “I have no idea what you’re going on about. If you had a wife, I would hardly do anything to her outside of welcome her into our family.”

Oh, you have no idea. John opened his mouth to protest, but couldn’t find the words.

Joseph looked him up and down. “You’ve been hurt. We were building the church, there was an accident. You took a tumble over a railing and hit your head. You’re lucky to have survived. The doctors suspected some sort of head injury, but if your memory... your imagination-”

John stared at him for a while. He remembered that day. It was nearly twenty years ago. But he hadn’t fallen, he had caught himself- he remembered. But something about the way Joseph was looking at him- had he dreamed he caught himself? Stranger things had happened in history with medical patients doing so as a way to cope. But twenty years worth of a life beyond that? A life? A fall from Joseph’s graces? A wife? Children? A family? No. No. This wasn’t- he couldn’t have? The thought had briefly occurred to him now that everything was back to what ha been normal, but- no. He couldn’t have just dreamed it all up in some... medical haze. He could feel his world crumbling to ashes around him. No.  “Calen-” Christ, Callan. No. “Calendar,” he forced out, mostly to himself. He wasn’t sure if he was going to vomit around the word, either. He looked off to the side by the door where he used to hang the object, and sure enough, it was there.

And then the most important detail came into focus and made all of his thoughts grind to a halt. 

September 2011. The year the Church went up. The year before things had started to get… violent between the Project and the people. Six years before an annoying Deputy had made his life a living Hell. Six and a half before he fell in love with said Deputy. And Nearly twenty before he had been the happiest man on Earth raising a family with her.

No. He hadn’t just fucking dreamed up twenty years in… however long he had evidently been unconscious for. Was it even physically possible? Could a human brain do that? His knees gave way before he was even aware he had moved, and he found himself crumpled on the floor with no desire to get up. 

Joseph, to his credit, was immediately at his side. 

Joseph had taken him by the hands carefully- like he was holding something glass that would easily break- not that he was far off from that- and promised him, looking insulted but concerned all the while that there was no trick like he had asked earlier. Joseph had merely not left his side after his fall over the railing. His older brother had managed to talk the doctors into letting him stay at the house to be observed.

John, of course, was beside himself, barely hearing any of the logic, far too caught up in his loss. It was all in his fucking head. Nicolette, their time together, their children, his fucking happiness- all a lie concocted by his traitorous mind. A mix of a fever dream and who else knew what  after an injury, because God apparently wasn’t done ruining him. And this was 2011. He hadn’t even committed his worst sins yet. He cast his eyes upward briefly. A bit too cruel, isn’t it? He snarled in his head to whatever God was listening.  He had loved Joseph so fucking much he was willing to look past all the blind faith the first time around. He was willing to spread God’s word for his brother. But any God who could put him through such torture by letting him be happy for years and then ripping it away in seconds was no God of his.

Joseph had sensed the turmoil going on in his brother’s head, and although he was clearly concerned and confused, he excused himself to give John alone time, promising he wouldn’t go far.

His brother had barely been out the door a second before John absolutely shattered and broke down. After a few seconds, his thoughts strayed to the last time he had sobbed that hard: the night he had woken up drunk in Sharky’s bunker after finally coming to terms with Joseph’s betrayal, with Nicolette hovering over him, making sure he was okay, checking on him, even after all the evils he had done to her or otherwise- the night that he stopped hating her. And then the fresher memories of Cal curled up beside him on bad days where his demons wouldn’t leave him alone came to mind. He could almost feel his son curl up next to him and lean into his side like he did any time he heard his father wake from nightmares. But they weren’t real. It had all been a fucking dream. God’s cruel joke. And he had cried even harder.

Joseph came back an hour later and held him, still confused but hurting for him and whatever was going on in his head.

His brother’s comfort should’ve reassured John. He should’ve been happy he had lost his apparently fictional family but gotten his brother back. He wasn’t. 

After a while he had pried himself away from Joseph, saying that he just needed to rest again like Joseph had suggested.

Joseph looked less than convinced, but he had touched his forehead to John’s, promised to see him the next day, and departed.

John had retreated back to his room, to a hauntingly empty bed and tried to sleep.

He didn’t do that, either.

Hours without his family blended into days, then weeks. It didn’t get easier, but he could manage after a while.

He had barely eaten or drank anything the first few days. It was Joseph that kept coming by and saw the house and his brother in disarray and implored the man to take care of himself. 

John did it to make his brother happy, but he might as well have been on autopilot the whole damned time. Except in matters with the Project. So his family was fake- it didn’t stop him from second guessing everything involving the cult- the Project.

Joseph’s sermons made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t look at Joseph that long if he touched anybody for an extra few seconds- he knew it was nothing lecherous, but he had learned- would learn?- that it was just part of his manipulations.

Reuniting with Jacob was… better but worse. Getting Jacob back had been literally miraculous. He had laughed and cried upon seeing him and thrown himself into the man’s arms despite the man’s grumbling- but the feeling immediately soured as the accusations from his dream piled up. Torturer. Murderer. Killed for sport. Broke people. Broke my wife. He had tried to smile through it all, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was lucky that Jacob had never noticed those details.

Weeks later, when Jacob had started muttering things about people not being strong enough, John had insisted that some people weren’t meant to be strong. ‘If there are no weak people, there would be no purpose for the strong people to protect them’,  ‘You learn from weaknesses. Weaknesses made you stronger.’

Jacob had grunted but looked like he was considering it. It was good enough.

When Only You came on the oldies station ten minutes later, John had nearly broken his finger in his effort to change the station as quickly as possible.

He had met Holly at a sermon shortly after. She had flirted, but her eyes weren’t green enough, her hair wasn’t dark enough, her smile wasn’t equal parts miscievious and comforting. She wasn’t his wife- or whatever his brain had come up with as his ideal wife. He had politely excused himself from the conversation with her and left in favor of talking to Nancy.

Joseph had come to him after that, citing that he had noticed how much John had changed ‘in the last few weeks’ and that he was proud of him. He was happy that John wasn’t falling back into old habits. And his heart had ached all over again. He could imagine Joseph’s thought process, how his phantom wife had helped him be a better person- in general and for Joseph’s needs. He had never been enough before, and he was teetering on the edge again: if he forgot Nicolette, he’d be back to his old self, but if he held on, it would be the end of him. But Joseph was only happy because John was being faithful to a phantom, an idea, And it hurt.

Months later, the mass Baptisms had begun at the Church. It hadn’t sat well with John. One day, he had helped welcome people, and one of the women who had looked after Cal when he and Nic were away, Roberta, had shown up. John remembered how Cal loved her and her cooking, and that had been enough for him. If things went the same way, he couldn’t watch this woman go down that path. And so he had faked being sick and sent them on their way. That night he had gone to Joseph, claiming he needed to ‘get away for a while’ and left. 

Joseph had protested and requested he stay for help with more expansion and the Baptisms.

John had bristled and asked if the Voice  asked that of him before he could stop himself.

Joseph, to his surprise, looked quite shaken. But John had just gone off to get his bags and left the man conflicted in his wake.

John had packed a bag, thrown it in Affirmation and headed for Missoula after that. The plan had been lay low for a month to just get away and reset his mind that hadn’t stopped racing.

Two weeks into the stay, he had gotten a call from Joseph. He had sighed heavily and looked out on the mountain view his hotel room had- one he knew Nicolette would’ve adored- no, no, she wouldn’t have, because she wasn’t real- but he had a vague recollection from the dream and had a sinking feeling he knew what was coming. His timing hadn’t entirely been random. He didn’t want to be there for when it all started to go wrong. When Joseph had accidentally killed Jerome’s daughter and didn’t think a damn thing of it.  He picked up the phone and waited with baited breath-

And Joseph had told him that he had ‘sent the pastor’s girl away when she had shown up for the Baptism’- she ‘was lost and needed to be found- but not here.’  The Voice was evidently growing silent- and had been quiet and left him alone after he sent the girl on her way.

John had tried to sound impassive about it. But no. He had put seeds of doubt in Joseph’s head because this bastardization of hindsight was a bitch and he wasn’t going to let his family fall to such destruction, whether that dream of a life had been a premonition or just his imagination at work. If his brother could hear God, maybe John was given his own version of a gift and a curse as well. As much as he despised God, he wasn’t going to waste his gift, as cruel as it had been. 

“Come home, John,” Joseph requested over the phone one night. 

“Not yet, but soon,” John assured him. Then, carefully, ‘I love you, Joseph.” It was a test, the ultimate test, and so his breath caught and he waited...

“I love you, too.”

And his heart ached all over again, and he had to blink tears away at that.

A few more days passed and John was getting utterly bored in Missoula. Things had been… looking up in Hope County. No deaths, no disappearances, no one was questioning Joseph’s motives. It… might have been safe.  

And so he made plans to return.

Of course, the day he scheduled to leave, a snowstorm came and grounded every single plane in the area.

He was getting antsy and had taken to pacing around the area. He had turned a corner down one hallway too sharply. Someone had called out ‘wait’ behind him and he had stopped short to turn their way- and then something hit him square in the chest and there was a wet pop and something soaking into his jacket that smelled distinctly like too-sweet coffee- hold on, how did he know a detail about coffee just from the smell-

“Shit! I’m sorry!”

That voice. He glanced up and his heart just about stopped.

Nicolette was standing there, looking dazed and holding the now-open coffee cup with its contents still sloshing around, staring at the growing stain on his shirt. She immediately launched into rapid-fire details that was just like her. “I can’t walk in these damn boots and I just thought that one person was calling me and I stopped and then fucking tripped and-”

 His mouth twitched in multiple directions, not sure whether to smile reassuringly or let his jaw drop or frown or fight to keep from blurting out it’s you, I missed you, I love you, I’d die for you- “It’s okay,” John forced out.

It wasn’t.

His wife gaped back at him. The mother of his children, the light of his absolutely horrible, tragic fucking life, though she was softer around the edges and her hair was a few inches longer. Hope County hadn’t gotten it’s hooks into her yet.

“No, it’s really not, holy shit, I’m so sorry, I can’t even-”  she started digging into the duffel bag at her hip.

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve had thrown at me,” he assured her, with far too small of a voice.

She laughed at that, and his heart ached the worst it had since he woke up that night. She had the same laugh. She was real. She was real, she was here, she wasn’t a fucking figment of his imagination. He had to ball his hands into fists to keep from touching her, and his nails had bit into his palms in the process.

‘Probably isn’t the best thing, either,” she replied apologetically.

“Day’s still young,” he countered, and yeah, he knew that was an extremely bad line before she blinked at him a couple of extra times than necessary.

It still didn’t stop her from producing a few tissues from her bag and half shoving them at his chest, trying to get whatever excess thankfully-lukewarm liquid out of his shirt.

He had to stifle a laugh and hold back tears of joy when at some point in the cleanup she stopped to steady herself and held his hip to do so- and she blinked after a moment. She had always had a thing for his hips. She had confessed it after they had spent one night in bed in the bunker.

“Ive never been into guys who are almost skinnier than me, but I mean, what even is this hip to body ratio, do you even eat?”

“Yes, I eat.”

“... ... Well?”

The fact that her interest transcended dreams and reality was wonderful. He realized perhaps a moment too late that he was staring, and looked out the window to counter it. “Can you believe this storm?” he asked. It was a terrible attempt at small talk, but he figured he might have died if he didn’t hear her voice again.

“That’s Montana for you,” she agreed, though she sounded grateful for the distraction. “Crazy weather, always cold. Have you heard how long it’ll be before flights aren’t grounded anymore?”

“A few hours at least,” John answered. He reached up to take one of the tissues from her and their fingers brushed and she looked at him- a mix of kindness and thankfully attraction and Christ, he had missed that look, too. She was real. She was real. The flights could stay grounded forever if it meant keeping her there with him. “What brings you here?”

“My dad’s got a job opportunity for me. Have a private plane flying me out. Law enforcement. Yay,” she deadpanned. 

“Not a fan?”  he asked, though his heart had started to race. Had it been a premonition after all?

Nicolette shrugged. “Well, I love my dad.” An explanation. She was doing this for him and him alone. Could it have been Whitehorse and she was just simplifying their situation to a stranger? Or was it her abusive scumbag of a biological father? Or neither?

She laughed. “Here I am, nonstop talking about me after all of this.” She motioned at the wet parts of his shirt.

Never stop talking to me. “It’s fine. A  conversation to pass the time for a minor inconvenience sounds like a fair trade to me. Where are you flying to?”

“Hope County, middle of nowhere, apparently.”

Holy. Shit.

She smiled again- that same warm, reassuring and teasing smile he had missed so much that seeing it physically hurt. “What about you?” she asked.  

“Same, actually. Have family out there.”

“Small world,” she answered.

Thank fuck for that.

John nodded after a moment, then motioned at the chairs by the window. “Want to sit? I could use the company before I die of boredom.”

“Well, like you said, I kinda owe you if you don’t mind conversation as repayment for that.  It’s the least I can do if I just christened you with a half a cup of coffee.”

“Again, I’ve had worse.”

She laughed again, then sighed and sat with him when he motioned again. “I’m Nicolette by the way. Friends call me Nic.”

“John. Good to meet you.”

——-

Several thankfully cult-less, deathless, happy months later, he’s sitting knee-to-knee next to Nicolette in his bathroom. The pair of them stare down at a positive pregnancy test. Because the Universe had given them a fucking Oops Baby in the real world as well as his dream world, now.

She looked scared but hopeful all at once, meanwhile he was beside himself with utter joy. It was painful keeping the relieved, disbelieving laugh in. And then, before he could stop himself, not that he would if he could: “I always liked the name Cal.”

The absolutely murderous look she gives him before she caves, laughs tiredly and agrees is worth it.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

A/N: Bold of you to assume I’d go full angst you heathens. 

[wreathedinscales]

idk i just wanted to give Nyx Ulric another ending. This takes place right after FFXV’s original ending.

Here is where the title comes from

One second, Nyx is staring at his last sunrise. The next, he’s hearing a familiar, changed voice calling, “Kings of Lucis…come to me!”

Then he’s hearing pain. Too much pain for one person, more than even Nyx and his deal had burned into him. The Prince’s scream stab Nyx’s ear with heated blades—he would’ve fought another war to stop it.

But it has to be done, doesn’t it. This is the gateway to that future Lunafreya had promised. Never mentioned this, though—probably for the best.

Where is he, anyway? There’s nothing but swirling colors of empty space. He’s sure he’s somewhere. Figures the afterlife doesn’t have a mother or sister waiting for him.

Does that mean Prince Noctis is dying?

It sounds like he is.

A whisper, exhausted, relieved: “It’s finally over.”

No one that young should have so much weight in their voice.

Nyx blinks, and a King appears before him. He’s dressed in a black suit and spotted with dirt. His eyes still glow with mauve power, clawing from his unshaven face. When he sees Nyx, he’s amused.

“Nyx Ulric, right?”

Nyx starts. Then he smiles and bows. “King Noctis. You’ve grown up, huh?”

How long has he been in—wherever this is?

Noctis scoffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah.”

Nyx looks around. “So. Don’t suppose you know anything about the afterlife? Would be nice to see my family.”

Noctis shakes his head. “This isn’t the afterlife.” The glow in his eyes finally fades, revealing dark circles. “Your life was absorbed into the Crystal.”

Nyx’s eyes widen. “This is the Crystal?”

“Yeah. I saw you—before. When I had to learn what I had to do. But you were far away. I don’t think you knew what was going on.”

Nyx shrugs. “I only remember the sun rising. And a whole lotta pain.”

Noctis nods slowly. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” He looks up. “The sun should be rising now. The Eternal Night is gone, along with the Scourge.”

“So we’re stuck here?”

Noctis smiles again. It’s nothing like the carefree, callous teen Nyx had known. Regis’ burden is in the curve of his lips and Eos’ burdens around his eyes.

“I think only one of us should be a martyr.”

Nyx purses his lips. “I didn’t fight to protect your city.”

“No. You protected the future.”

Noctis takes his hands and squeezes them tight. Holes are forming in his flesh.

Nyx will never forget the King’s face when he murmurs, “Thank you.”

Light, pure and beautiful, glows softly between them.

“A lot of time has passed,” Noctis says, looking at him while Nyx stares at the power between them, “but I think you’ll get back into the swing of things.”

Nyx’s head whips up. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Noctis’ smile never wavers. “I have a little bit of power left. And the Astrals kinda owe me one.”

Nyx’s heart leaps to his throat. “I—I made my peace, Your Majesty.”

“Nyx, you’re not dead.” Nyx jolts. “Just scattered in the Crystal.” The light travels up Nyx’s arms. “You should live the rest of your life first.”

“What about you?”

For one bare second, Noctis falters. Emotions gloss his eyes. Nyx finds himself aching at the sight.

Then it’s gone, replaced by another smile. “I don’t think I can leave.”

“What?”

“I’ve made my peace, Nyx. Besides, I’ve been in the Crystal before. My body’s definitely dead—I can’t go back.”

“Your Majesty—”

“I’ve said my goodbyes.”

Noctis presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes. “Walk tall.” He smirks, almost, almost looking like that young boy, “Hero.”

 Nyx wakes gasping on the steps of the throne room.

“Whoa!”

“Is that—?”

“What is it?”

Nyx sits up. He blinks. “Gladio? Ignis? And…Prompto, right?”

Prompto gasps. “Nyx Ulric knows my name!”

Ignis stiffens. “Nyx Ulric is supposed to be dead.”

“Uh, apparently not,” Nyx says, scratching behind his ear, “I was uh. Scattered or something, in the Crystal. But the King restored me.”

A hushed silence swallows the room.

“The King?” Ignis whispers.

Nyx stands, grim-faced. “He said his body was dead.”

Gladio raises his eyes. Nyx follows his gaze and stills.

Regis’ sword pins Noctis’s slumped form to the throne. As the sun rises, his blood drips from the blade. He’s in the same shape as Nyx had seen him earlier—dirty, unshaven—but so damn small.

“We were about to—take him off,” Gladio says hoarsely, “Then you showed up.”

Nyx swallows. “Right. Yeah.”

They walk up the steps like pall-bearers to a coffin. The closer they get, the more Nyx’s chest hurts.

I don’t think I can leave.

All this—saving the world, stopping the Scourge, and he doesn’t even get a happy ending.

“Guess I missed a lot,” Nyx says quietly.

“Yes,” Ignis replies, “We will tell you all we can.” He clears his throat. “But I think we should tell you now that Lady Lunafreya is dead.”

Nyx squeezes his eyes shut. Behind them, a woman, stern and wise, leaps recklessly from a ship. A woman who does—did not fear death because the Oracle’s power eats at her the way the Power of Kings must have eaten at Noctis. A strong princess who had to be strong because there was no alternative.

She was also a woman who would never give up on those she loved.

Nyx opens his eyes and smiles. “Then the King’s in good hands.”

If there’s anyone who can guide Noctis from the Crystal, it’s that damn stubborn Lady Lunafreya. They’ll both find happiness. They’ve done enough for the world anyway.

“Yeah,” Prompto rasps.

Together, Gladio and Nyx pull the sword from Noctis’ body, Ignis and Prompto steadying him. Nyx takes the sword. Gladio takes Noctis.

“What d’you think they’ll call his tomb?” Prompto asks.

“The Tomb of the Chosen, most likely,” Ignis says softly. He feels his way to Noctis’ head to settle it on Gladio’s shoulder, and Nyx finally gets a good look at his eyes.

“What happened?” he demands.

Ignis shakes his head. “It’s an old wound.”

The four of them harbor the King into the sun. The light seems caresses him. Looking at his face, Nyx almost hopes he’ll twitch and groan at being woken up. Always did that when Nyx threw open his curtains and told him he’d be escorting him to the Citadel.

“You’re not gonna actually bury him in a stuffy tomb, right?” Nyx asks.

Ignis ducks his head. “No. I think not. Perhaps by a river, where the fish are bountiful.”

“Or near the ocean,” Prompto croaks, forcing a laugh. “Plenty of fish there.”

Gladio holds his King tighter. “Galdin Quay?”

Prompto wipes his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

For now, they set Noctis on a nearby stone and resolve to call Cindy for a car. She’ll be able to maneuver one through the rubble.

Nyx places his hand on Noctis’ shoulder. Thank you. I hope you meet Lady Lunafreya soon.

Might be his imagination, but the dawn seems to shine brighter.

 “Noctis?”

The King’s head snaps up.

“Noctis.”

He turns around.

“Luna.”

She’s wearing her wedding dress. Tears gather in Noctis’ eyes.

“We don’t want to be late,” she says gently.

The sun is smiling.

[gosh-mr-big-brain]

Sleep Is For The Weak (Part One)

    Tony Stark had one motto that he lived his life by whether he actually wanted to or not. It wasn’t overly complicated nor did it make his life any easier, but he couldn’t quite shake the habit he had built up for himself over the last thirty years. But, nevertheless, as he hunched tiredly in his lab, pressed up against his worn, leather couch, browsing through suit designs on his tablet, sleep deprivation quickly setting in, he decided, once and for all, that “Sleep is for the weak” was an absolutely horrific way to live you life. Yet, still, Tony was unable to stop his finger from flicking from design to design, mildly aware of the fact that he probably wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. He yawned, quickly fixing a small design flaw in the newest suit he had been outlining, wondering whether he should brew himself another pot of coffee if he really was going to stay up all night.

    In the end, exhausted or not, Tony Stark was always up for a cup of coffee (The second rule he happened to live his life by: Never turn down a cup of coffee when the opportunity presents itself). He somehow managed to roll up off of the now rather uncomfortable couch he had burrowed himself into, trying to ignore the slight stiffness in his joints. I really need to get out more, he grumbled to himself as he began to hobble over to the coffee maker he had specifically installed in his lab for these late-night work binges. Steve and Natasha had both been there when Tony brought home the rather shitty coffee maker, rolling their eyes in such a way that it was clear they had perfected it as an art. (Which they had- Living with Tony was practically a university level course on the matter with less exams and much more frustration) But he was convinced that this was his greatest purchase of the year (Only the year because a mere fourteen months ago Tony had finally bought Mario Kart 8 for the team and it was turning out to be quite the purchase, much to his surprise (Thor in particular was rather enthralled by the game)) and immediately deemed the machine Star Spangled Bot With A Pot (Of Coffee) in an attempt to get a smile out of Steve who was now wearing a vaguely disappointed frown on his face. Instead, without even the smallest quirk of his lips, he left (And refused to speak to him for about a week) and Natasha slapped him, grumbling something about never wanting to hear him speak again. It was… understandable, to say the least.

    What was he doing again? Ah yes, coffee. Tony stumbled over to his Star Spangled Bot (And because he could never just let things die, there was a purposefully badly drawn replica of Cap’s shield plastered to its side), his legs apparently not getting the memo that the rest of his body was still awake. Blinking blearily, he began searching for the stash of coffee that had to be hiding somewhere on this godforsaken cluttered counter. God, he really needed to tidy up his workshop a little bit, didn’t he? Oh, who the hell cared? Tony would worry about that (And probably forget soon after) after he had a hot cup of coffee in his hands. Now where was it?

    Aha! He beamed at the shiny canister he was now clutching in his hand that had been hidden under one of the many notebooks he had lying around the workshop in order to scratch down or sketch out any of the spectacular ideas that popped into his genius brain at any given moment. He was now one step closer to caffeinated heaven.

    Until he opened up the canister and realized that it was completely empty.

    Tony groaned, throwing the jar of disappointment back onto the counter. He opened his mouth to complain about the multitude of idiots who had forgotten to refill the coffee canister after they had finished it before coming to the realization that he was, in fact, that idiot. Typically, he would go on a hour long rampage after coming face to face with a disappointment like this, blaming whoever and whatever was closest to him at the moment, but Tony was tired and exhaustion made him weirdly honest. And, if he was being honest with himself (Which he was because he hadn’t slept in nearly three days), he vividly remembered taking the last of the coffee that morning, promising himself he would refill it before getting distracted by work for the last twelve hours.

    Honest or not, Tony really had been looking forward to that cup of coffee and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to get any. He was the invincible Iron Man for God’s sake, if he wanted coffee he was going to get his goddamn coffee. Even if it meant having to make the trek upstairs to the communal kitchen he shared with the rest of the Avengers. But it wasn’t like he was going to see any of them (Thank God for that small mercy- he wasn’t sure he could bear seeing the pointed looks they would throw both his way and at each other or the small, sad shakes of their heads as they took in his ragged appearance). It was nearly three A.M and he was quite sure none of his other teammates were nearly as self destructive as he was so he could count on them all being fast asleep in their beds dreaming about unicorns and rainbows. Well, all except Natasha who was probably dreaming about murder or something along those lines. And Steve who was most likely dreaming about freedom or constitutional rights. Man, he had some really weird friends.

    But nevermind that, it wasn’t important. Tony had an incredibly crucial journey to make. He couldn’t let it be halted by amusing thoughts regarding his teammates. His need for coffee went well beyond that. He released a long, rush of air and straightened his shoulders, ready to begin his mission. With a confident, purposeful stride he went to walk out of his workshop only to be stopped… By the glass door. Tony swore, bellowing every curse word he knew and then every possible combination of those said curse words at the top of his lungs as his forehead and nose flared with horrific pain. Thank God his workshop was sound proof, otherwise he would’ve woken up the entire state of New York, not to mention the Avenger’s sleeping upstairs.

    “Open the door, J,” he grumbled sullenly, harshly rubbing his nose in an attempt to alleviate the pain but with no obvious success.

    “Of course, Sir,” his A.I responded, his automated voice sounding oddly polite. In retrospect, Tony should have sensed the quick quip that was about to spill from J.A.R.V.I.S’s non-existent mouth. “But, please, this time make sure you don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” And with that final statement, the glass door slid open, the sound smooth and quiet.

    He swore again, albeit much quieter than before, and began to make the treacherous trek out of the isolated safety of his workshop to finally find his cup of godforsaken coffee. If he’d known it was going to take this much effort, Tony would’ve just gone to sleep like a regular human being.

    He slunk into the kitchen, shoulders slumping and eyes heavy. If he didn’t get caffeine in him within the next five minutes he was going to fall asleep right where he stood (It wouldn’t be the first time nor the last- Tony had a tendency to fall asleep in the strangest of places if he was tired enough (Which was always) or just comfortable in his surroundings). As he clumsily stumbled to the, frankly, higher quality (Although don’t tell the Star Spangled Bot he said that) communal coffee maker, he couldn’t help but imagine the Avenger’s reactions if they found him, crumpled on the floor of the kitchen, fast asleep.

    Each response that came to mind was enough to make him extremely glad that none of them were currently able to see the stupid grin that had invaded his usually well controlled expressions. Natasha rolling her eyes in annoyance at the sight of him yet still quickly covering him with a blanket when she was sure nobody was watching. Clint deciding to be an ass (A loveable one but, still, a complete and utter ass) by deciding that a sleeping Tony was his new chair and sitting on him while they ate breakfast. Thor beaming at him with his literal godly smile and mussing his already messy hair. Bruce shaking his head in a fond manner, while also setting aside a plate of breakfast for him when he woke up because Tony was always ravenous after passing out due to one of his work binges. And Steve… Unbeknownst to him, Tony’s smile grew a bit brighter as he began to brew his pot of coffee. Steve would probably groan in frustration, shaking his head in a way that was the very epitome of disapproval as he spotted Tony fast asleep on the kitchen floor. But then he’d drag Tony upstairs to his mainly unused bedroom, making sure that he was safely asleep in his very own bed before finally heading back to the kitchen and eating his breakfast, like the righteous American citizen he was.

    How could Tony know this, you ask? How could he possibly recognize that the walking virtuous embodiment of American ideals was dragging him to his bed on the multiple occasions when he fell asleep anywhere but? Well, it’s certainly not because it had happened several times in the past. No siree. This was simply a mental exercise, nothing he had experienced beforehand.

...

    But, if Tony truly was being honest with himself (Which he was because, just as another gentle reminder, he was fucking exhausted), it had happened more than he’d like to admit. He had first noticed it one night when he’d sworn he had fallen asleep on the couch in the common room while reviewing the final draft for a new, greatly improved bow for Clint and somehow managed to wake up in his own bed instead. At first, Tony had considered sleepwalking although he quickly dismissed the thought. He had many issues with sleeping but sleepwalking, fortunately, was not one of them. Then he thought he had actually managed to get to his bed before falling asleep and the forgot due to lack of said sleep but even when sleep deprived Tony Stark’s mind was first rate (Not bragging- just stating a completely justifiable fact) and despite being cluttered and terribly messy, he rarely forgot a thing.

    Finally, he allowed himself to consider the one answer he had been trying so very hard not to think about since the moment he first opened his eyes and realized that he was no longer slumped over on the couch. That one of the Avenger’s had carried him to bed. And it didn’t take him very long to figure out who. Neither Clint or Natasha (Although he would never recount this to them) were nearly strong enough to drag him off to bed like that nor would they even if they could. They both cared for Tony, this he was quite sure of, but that wasn’t how they showed their affection (See Clint using him as a chair while he slept). And, while that was totally that kind of thing Bruce would do as his Science BroTM, carrying heavy superheroes who were dead to the world was not in his large repertoire of skills as a scientist. Thor was undeniably strong enough but he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it. Don’t get him wrong, Thor was awesome and a fucking god, if you hadn’t already noticed, but he still wasn’t really accustomed to Earthly habits- especially Tony’s- and figured that if he had fallen asleep on the couch, he had wanted to fall asleep rather then it being an accidental occurrence that happened much too frequently for his likely. Now, thanks to the infallible process of elimination, that just left Steve.

    In a rare moment of un-tired honesty, Tony had admitted to himself that he had known it was Steve from the very beginning. Mainly, he rationalized, because it was the exact type of stupid shit that America’s favourite superhero was so fond of doing. This was the guy who, during his breaks from saving the world from evil, helped the elderly cross the street and assisted rushed, harried people with their groceries. Hell, he did that for fun! So, did this really come as a surprise for Tony? No, not in the least. Did it still make him blush an unnecessarily gaudy shade of red whenever he thought about it? Sadly, the answer to that question was a yes.

    Suddenly, the smell of freshly brewed coffee brought him back to the much less embarrassing present, directing his thoughts away from Steve. “Finally!” Tony breathed, a delighted beam slowly spreading across his features. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he mumbled to the pot of coffee as he snatched a random mug from the closest cupboard (It just so happened to be the one Clint got him for his birthday a few months back after hearing about the coffee maker naming incident (It read: The Star Spangled Mug With The Drug (Caffeine) with a horrifically bad recreation of Cap’s shield with a mug in the middle instead of a star (Steve wouldn’t speak to either of them for another long week after seeing it)) and set it down on the counter. Practically bursting with excitement, he poured himself a full cup and, without bothering to put anything in it, grasped it in his hands like it was the solution to all of his problems (Which, at the moment, it was). Tony basically inhaled the entirety of his coffee, taking in the gorgeous smell of his favourite drink. He lifted the mug to his lips, about to take a large gulp, hardly caring about how hot it was, when-

    “Sir.”

    Tony groaned overdramatically, setting mug back onto the counter with a loud clatter. “What the hell do you want, J?’ he questioned, his voice tinged with an obviously superficial annoyance. “Do you not see how very close I am to getting my caffeine?”

    “I am more than aware, Sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S replied drily, his tone making Tony wish he hadn’t done such a great job when creating his A.I. (Sometimes he really was too clever for his own good- particularly the time he decided to give J.A.R.V.I.S the ability to speak). “But I do believe this may be of slightly more importance.”

    Tony scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. “What could possibly be more important than coffee? I thought I programmed you to be slightly smarter than this.”

    “Of course, Sir. We are all aware of how your genius knows no bounds.”

    He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that sarcasm I detect, J?”

    “Like I said, Sir. Your genius knows no bounds.”

    Despite himself, Tony felt his lips quirk up into a tiny, tired smile. “Now, what could be so important that you had to interrupt me before I could finally get even a sip from my cup of coffee?” he inquired, leaning back against the counter as he squinted up at the ceiling as if he were looking at J.A.R.V.I.S, more out of habit and superstition than anything else.

    J.A.R.V.I.S paused for a moment, almost as if he were considering his words very carefully or, perhaps, reconsidering them. “Sir, do you recall programming my sensors to observe the other Avengers and watch them for any signs of distress?”

         “Yes?” Tony responded, raising a practiced eyebrow, both curious and concerned to see where this was going.

“Well, Sir… It appears as if Captain Rogers is currently in distress.”

Immediately, he straightened up, pushing himself away from the counter and dipping his chin in resignation. “On it, J,” he acknowledged determinedly. Tony began walking briskly across the kitchen, towards its open doors, all exhaustion seeming to have disappeared from his body. Although, it certainly didn’t stop him from calling back out to J.A.R.V.I.S over his shoulder as he left the room, “Make sure nobody drinks my coffee!”

J.A.R.V.I.S. was well aware that he was speaking to an empty room when he replied, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Sir.”

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

[strawbebbynya]

Moments

AO3 | FF.net | Patreon

Captain Davenport/Merle Highchurch for @littleneonlimelight​

The first moment they have together is on the beach.

Sure, Merle and Davenport have had moments alone together, but not moments, moments so quiet that they almost forgot the other was there. Moments where they are the only two people in the world, no matter how true or false that may be. It starts off simple enough, two older men watching the waves in complete silence. Davenport has never seen Merle so at peace outside of tending to his garden on ship, singing to his plants-- hell, he may even be happier here, on the beach, than with his plants

Davenport, however, is not at peace; not on the inside. Inside, he is fighting a losing battle with himself, searching for a way to tell Merle that, for a decade now, he has been completely, absolutely, head-over-heels in love for the cleric

His hands were trembling with the thought of being held, dwarfed completely by Merle’s own (the thought of the pun gets a nervous laugh out of him, and Merle chuckles too, though at what, Davenport isn't sure.) As the sun began to set, Davenport’s trembling worsens and his courage continuously wanes. That’s when it happens.

Without a word, Merle takes Davenport’s hand in his, fingers intertwined, and squeezed gently.

The captain’s heart almost explodes. His face and ears were bright red, brighter than the robes of their uniforms, and, oh no, is he hyperventilating? Calm yourself, damn it! You’re the captain of the Starblaster, not some village boy with a crush!

And yet, neither of them let go for long after the sun sets, until they’ve fallen asleep on the beach and woken up by their crew calling after them.

They don’t talk about it for a long time. But Davenport knows he’s not seeing things when he catches Merle’s eyes and sees them twinkle mischievously

The second moment takes place on the Starblaster.

They lost Lup, Taako, and Magnus halfway through the year, and things had been hard the four of them left, Barry most of all. He rarely left the libraries of this world, bringing back tomes to the Starblaster to pour over their contents in the solitude of his quarters when it was too dangerous to stay planetside. Lucretia was Lucretia, never the one to be very social anyways. That left only Merle and Davenport.

The memory of their night on the beach, as completely and absolutely innocent as it was, felt sinful to Davenport. He’d had male lovers before, done things that even now he felt too ashamed to think about, but just holding the cleric’s hand had felt like he was crossing the line. This was his coworker, his crewmate, his employee. He should be keeping his distance. So why had he jumped on the first chance to help Merle with his plants?

Mostly, he’s just standing a few feet from Merle, watching nervously as he sang and tended his plants. Merle collected seeds from every world they visited, taking care to replicate their biomes almost perfectly and writing down notes whenever he found something he considered interesting. Though Merle didn’t seem to notice, Davenport certainly took note of how the plants would lean towards them, petals opened a little wider, and follow him as he walked away, almost drooping as he left.

I know the feeling, Davenport thought.

“Hey, Captain?” Merle called as he spritzed the cacti with water. “Come over here, I wanna show you something.”

The gnome almost tripped over himself scrambling to the other man’s side. “Yes, Merle?”

In front of them was a small, wilted cactus in a pot, its petals drooping lazily. “I’m… not always going to be around, Captain. And someone needs to be here, to take care of the garden. Now, it’s not much, but this lil’ guy… he needs a special touch. He need some time on his own, before he can join his brothers. I’ve got too many plants to take care of, but… I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking care of it for me.”

Davenport swallowed the lump in his throat and took the pot, scrutinizing it. He remembered seeing others like it about two cycles ago; Merle had received it as a gift, for helping the locals set up a greenhouse to help their crops during the long, harsh winters. It was certainly much better looking when they had first gotten it, that was for sure.

“What… how exactly do I…”

Merle tore out a page from his notebook and handed it Davenport, then moved through the room, gathering the items that he would need to care for it. “It likes being told secrets and sung sea shanties at least once a week, but the more you tell it, the better. You’ll have to give it five spritzes of water every day and change the soil once a month. It won’t grow too big, and you can use its petals for tea.”

Davenport was then shooed back to his room with instructions on where to put it to maximize growth and happiness, along with a lot of jargon he couldn’t make heads or tails of. When he was alone, he stroked a finger along a little petal and smiled.

Maybe sharing secrets with this thing wouldn’t be so bad.

The third moment happens after the parley.

Watching Merle’s smokey form suddenly dissipate had taken a toll on everyone, but it had felt like a stab through the heart for Davenport to see it. When he had seen Merle reappear on the Starblaster, he had wanted to just run up to him and hug him, or punch him in the face-- or both! But he had refrained, thanking Merle for what he had done.

The second time, however, felt far worse.

With no one left to care for them, Merle’s plants were bound to wilt. Davenport had only experience with the small plant the cleric had given to him (and it had blossomed beautifully with his dirty secrets), but he had decided to take it upon himself to care for the plants. He was the one closest to Merle’s room, after all. It wasn’t because he wanted to feel closer to the man.

At first, Davenport couldn’t make heads or tails of the gibberish instructions that had been left behind. They were written in a mixture of dwarven and common slang, forcing the captain to get Lucretia’s help in translating, but even then it was just as nonsensical. Every plant had its own way of being cared for, and, if the instructions weren’t followed to a T, they would wilt, smack him, or both.

The captain pleaded with them to give him a chance-- he wasn’t Merle, but Merle would be back soon, they just need to hold on a little longer.

They didn’t listen, of course. But that didn’t phase him.

Slowly but surely, Lucretia and Davenport began to make sense of Merle’s writings, and the flowers began to bloom again. The day that Merle returns, Davenport makes it a point to show his work. Merle checks over every single one, his smile growing wider with each plant.

“Well I’ll be damned, they must really like you!” said Merle. “They look wonderful!”

Davenport’s ears turned red. “Well, it wasn’t just me, Lucret--”

Merle grabbed Davenport by the cheeks and kissed him square on the cheeks with a resounding smack. Davenport let out a surprised noise, staring wide-eyed at the other man as he pulled away. “Merle…?”

The cleric grinned and pat his bright red cheeks. “Just think of it as a thank you, oh captain, my captain.”

The fourth time takes place in bed.

Merle was a heavy sleeper, and a loud one at that. But, as Davenport had found, he couldn’t quite sleep without it. It was almost like white noise, he’d once told the others when they asked him how he could stand it.

Tonight, however, neither man was sleeping. Merle had invited the captain to partake in some new tea, which they had discovered a little too late to make them more awake than tired. They spent half the night drinking tea in Merle’s quarter, sitting in his bed and talking. Then, the cleric’s hand, slowly, almost fearfully, rested on top of his. Davenport almost dropped his teacup in surprise, meeting Merle’s uncertain gaze.

“Captain, I’ve… been thinking--”

Davenport snorted at the thought of what the twins would’ve said to that, then covered it up with a cough.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together, and we’ve gotten… close. Or, at least, I’d like to think we have. And, seeing Lup and Barry, it made me realize, I… oh Pan, how do I say this without making a damn fool of myself? Captain, I like you. I like you a lot, and I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I just had to get it off my chest.”

Davenport gaped at Merle so long his mouth began to dry out. Merle must have taken his silence for rejection, as he began to babble out an apology and pull his hand away. When the captain took his hand, however, he immediately clammed up.

“I like you too, Merle,” Davenport muttered, unable to look him in the eye.

They were both silent for a moment, until Merle started laughing. Caught up in the sheer ridiculousness of their situation, Davenport joined, leaning against the cleric’s shoulder. Their laughter died down and they turned to each other, Merle with a mischievous glint in his eye.

They spent their night doing far more than sleeping.

The fifth moment is their last moment.

They are playing a card game of their own making; the turns take at minimum five minutes to complete, often longer with how they fill the silence with words. Merle is holding Davenport’s hand across the table, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. They have been completely silent for some time now, when Davenport’s head shoots up.

“Holy shit… I think it's my birthday,” he says in bewilderment. “I, I guess we got to start… I guess we gotta start caring about stuff like that again..”

Merle looks up at him. “What are you, like, 130, 140?”

He laughs nervously. “Yeah, I don’t know, do we count those years? I- I certainly didn’t age during that- Jesus, Merle! We’re going to get older now!”

Merle hums, a small, sad smile on his face. He doesn’t tell him that he’s happy to grow old with Davenport.

There’s a pause before Davenport speaks again. “Do you- do you think we’ll be able to have normal lives after this? Nobody’s ever had a life like ours, there’s no...rule book. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Why would you want a normal life? Normal lives… suck!”

Davenport laughs, squeezing Merle’s hand.

“Like, this game, we play this game, we just sit here. It’s just a way to kill time! C’mon, Skipper, you don’t want to just kill time all the time!”

“I know, I just-- How do you wanna live, Merle? Like, I don’t have a-- this mission has been my life for a century. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“You wanna know what I’d like to do? I’d like to move to the beach. You know why? Because with the ocean, the scenery is always changin’, and I want the scenery to always be changin’, man. I don’t wanna be lookin’ at the same thing all the time… I wanna see a million, billion shells… I wanna watch rain come sweepin’ in… That’s, that’s the life, right there! Change it up, man! Keep it interesting!”

As Merle speaks, something is happening to Davenport. He drops his cards, sweat beading on his forehead. He blinks rapidly, barely registering what the other man is saying. He’s.... forgetting. He’s trying to remember their moments together on the… on the beach? No, no, it was a… a bed? There was definitely a flower involved right?

He’s forgetting, forgetting, he doesn’t want to forget--

He forgets.