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#maybe he already had some that helped him survive until now
confused-stars · 8 months
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the more I think about Wriothesley's childhood, the more sure i become that his perception of his parents being loving and perfect on the outside is also flawed
I think they were likely cleverly manipulative and tried to raise the children in a way that would make them more valuable to sell later.
things like teaching them to never cry because "oh, isn't being happy so much nicer?" when in reality it's just unsightly and their clients want quiet, well-behaved kids that can wear a smile no matter what
the kids' concerns being constantly brushed off as they were distracted with some gift or a fun game, the girls sitting for hours with their mother as she carefully helps them practice with makeup, probably some well-placed remarks to make the kids scared of the gardes...
they never made the kids doubt that they were loved, all while gently and patiently shaping them into what they wanted them to be
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elgaravel · 2 years
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OC DUALITY
was tagged by @morvaris​ to take this uquiz for my ocs >:) thank you nico this was super fun!!
tagging: @numbaoneflaya @time-is-a-lake @aartyom @nuclearstorms @girlbosselrond @druidgroves @malefiicarum @swordcoasts  @aldcaldos @sufferthorn @steelport @calenhads @lavinet​ and anyone else who’d like to join in !!
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you and the hat man
oh boy you're fighting demons aren't you? it's like you're in a constant staring competition with something that's always in the peripheral. what the fuck. (at least, that's how people who don't know you would react). at this point you've probably gotten pretty familiar with the hat man. he's a reliable kind of guy. keeps to himself, sure, but you can trust him to be there. maybe a haunting isn't too bad if it's never left your side. you can only imagine what it will be like when he's not there any more.
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god-hungry scientist and their abominable child
you stitched something together inside of yourself and gave it life with light from the sky and now it won't die and you can't kill it because part of you loves it and you're not quite right in the head or the person you used to be but at the end of the day it's simply a beast of sadness. you crave the mercy you didn't get from your creators and so i'm telling you please forgive yourself. please hold the monster by the hand.
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moon curse of the werewolf
you have found yourself hungered or sickened or ambitious to the point of emotional carnage. you are fine, until you're not, and then you could rip someone in your way apart with your bared teeth by complete accident, and later claw at yourself in fits of pain trying to apologize. do you look at the moon that blessed you in her name, at her marred beauty and baneful eyes, and wish she could just crush that loving-hateful heart of yours before it crushes itself? every bite you take out of flesh is a response to the threads of silver bullets in you that haven't healed. the duality is that the human inside is howling too, gnashing, and without the wolf pelt, everyone can ignore it and turn away. at some point, you got tired of the moon being your only witness. now the wolf is there to make sure others know that you are hurt, and deserving of humanity, of attention to wounds. because that wolf loves you; all of you; and knows when you are hurt better than yourself.
#feel free to ignore this if you want !! idk how many people have already been tagged fjsdkl#anyway. going to be annoying abt this in the tags now <3#the main thing that gets me abt gray's is the 'maybe a haunting isn't too bad if it's never left your side'#like????? ik the hat man thing is probs supposed to be funny and it kinda is but it fits them so well#almost everyone close to them has died or left them atp but maybe it isn't so bad. just to have one constant#dmitri :| yeah. yeah#everything he felt he had to become to save his sister who was dead the whole time anyway but ended up being a better survival tactic anyway#so he just stuck with it until he died but then he comes back as a demon and now he has to live with what he did forever#i don't think he really could ever forgive himself. mainly for failing nina but it's started to eat him alive less and less over the years#mainly bc he does everything he can not to think about it too much but he also doesn't really want to totally get rid of that part of#himself. the part that was capable of torturing and killing all those people bc it really was powered by love and desperation to some extent#and that proves that maybe he has some shred of humanity left even if she's been gone for decades now#not that he does shit like that anymore. but he's capable and willing to for those he loves even if they'd probably hate him for it#and miko's :(#yeah#lashing out at people when it gets to be too much which is often given the life that she lives and then beating herself up for it nonstop#but it's also a way to protect herself and even tho she died young it got her pretty far#and it helped her protect other people (mainly gray and blake) when it came down to it because she couldn't stand seeing them hurt either#idk if i articulated myself v well but yeah jfdsklfdjs my dmc gang are all my blorbos#my ocs#tag#gray#dmitri#miko
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imaginaryf1shots · 16 days
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Married? | Oscar Piastri
WC: 2.1K
Oscar x Wife!Reader
Summery: He never met to hide it, it's just the way he is.
Warning: none
Masterlist
Oscar Masterlist
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It was always a known thing, there was never any doubt in anyone that knew him, Oscar has always been destined to be an F1 driver. It was written. Anyone that knows him knows this. And you've known him almost all your life. Before he went to Europe and before he started travelling around for Karting and racing in the Formula series. It seems like there was never a point in your life where Oscar wasn't in it. What started as playground friendship turned to crushing on each other, turned to liking each other and then turned into a relationship. Not high school sweethearts, more like six grade sweethearts. No one expected your relationship to last due to you being so young, and still growing up and developing. Yet, the distance only made you grow fonder of each other. Your relationship survived him moving to the UK for school and racing, it survived the time difference and all the growing up you had to do. Video calls are your thing, you're the kind of people to have it on for hours doing mundane things not necessarily talking but just having the feeling that the other was there.
Now when you became 18, the next step wasn't surprising to those around you. You and Oscar talked about it for so long, you finished school already, so what was stopping you? Nothing. With the help of your parents you both got married, and so you relocated to the UK with Oscar. 
You went to Uni and he was off racing. Coming home to you was always the highlight of the day for Oscar, he'd leave his bags by the door and search for you in the apartment before he'd just all but throw himself at you just wanting some love and attention.
You'd be sitting on the sofa folding some laundry, the TV playing, the door would open and close and you would be none the wiser. Oscar would follow the sound of the TV finding you engrossed in the show that's playing, your hands moving on their own as you fold his shirt. Oscar would move to the sofa and you'd gasp in surprise, finally noticing him before he threw himself on the sofa, his head in your lap, his face hiding in your stomach.
"God, Osc, you scared me." You'd say but smile nonetheless, Oscar would mumble a 'sorry' and you'd barely understand it. Your hands go to his hair and you run your fingers through his locks, scratching ever so slightly. Oscar would groan and you lean down to kiss his head. "How was the flight?"
"Long." You hum and just let him have his time getting what he needs. Now it's not often that he'd fall asleep like that, but the flight was long and he didn't get any sleep, he doesn't remember when it happened, but he falls asleep. You'd stay like that for an hour or two, the TV still playing but the sound is lower until he'd wake up. Once he starts waking up, he starts moving around, he moves to his back and slowly opens his eyes, blinking up at you.
"Hey sleepyhead."
"Hey, I didn't realise I slept."
"Yeah, didn't even give me a hello kiss or anything." You teased him, Oscar sleepily sits up and places a hand on your cheek before he presses his lips to yours, once, twice, three times before deepens it. You sigh in content. Happy to have him in your arms after almost a week.
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Oscar didn't mean to hide it, he just didn't wear his ring, he lost it twice at races and since then he only wore it when he's not on a racing week. He's also not very talkative, he doesn't find himself sharing things about himself willingly, but if you ask he'll answer, you just have to prompt him. Maybe it was because he was a rookie, or because there was many things happening, but no one realised he was seeing someone in 2023, you've been to races, you didn't really like the limelight, not while you're still studying at least, so you'd go into the paddock alone, but you'd still be a guest of McLaren. Some people just assumed you're a family member (which is correct, but not how they thought) or just a close friend.
All of that came to an end when you finally finished Uni, and were free to travel more, and coming into the paddock with Oscar wasn't such a scary thing anymore. It all came with the fact that you got a new ring for Oscar and kind of 'proposed' to him with it in your living room, Oscar decided to try wearing his ring, he wouldn't have to take it off anyways. It's his wedding ring, and according to the rules he could keep it on.
It was a Grand Prix weekend, Oscar's family flew out for the race. You walked in with them, Nicole was by your side, a couple photographers took photos, manly because they're Oscar's family, not that they know about you. Getting into McLaren, someone tells Oscar that you're all here, you were back in Australia for 2 weeks, while he was at the factory working, it's more than you both had gotten used to in recent years. Oscar comes in and he ignores his family heading straight to you, you smile up at him and he leans in, giving you a hug and a quick kiss.
"Glad to know, you missed us." Nicole teased Oscar, and he went to hug her. She's always happy seeing how still in love you both are, it warms her heart. Her son is in a happy marriage while achieving his dream away from her. Oscar stands with you all as much as he could before he had to go back to work. You all made it to the hospitality.
"I heard Oscar's family is here." Lando walks in at one point, with a smile on his face, he greets everyone, stopping at you, seeing no similarities between you and Oscar. "I know I saw you before, but I don't know who you are."
"It's alright, I'm Oscar's w-."
"Girlfriend?" Lando cuts you off with a smile. "I knew he's in a relationship but he hasn't introduced you."
"No, I'm not-"
"Oh, are you not his girlfriend? I'm sorry."
"It's not tha-"
"I just want to meet his girlfriend, he never talks about anything unless you ask him and-"
"Lando, I'm his-"
"He seems like he's in a relationship, at least that's what I understood from him."
"I'm his wife."
"But I could be wrong and this is all a- wait... what?" Lando stops once he realises what you said, his eyes are wide while you just smile at him.
"I'm his wife." You say again, and his sisters all just giggle to themselves, finding it all very amusing. Lando looks at Nicole and Chris, as if he's waiting for them to say something, to say it's a joke, to deny it, anything.
"I told Oscar to just come out and say he's married." Nicole said shaking her head slightly, this is about to come out, and she knows Oscar will once again turn the internet on it's head.
"he's-you're-and." Lando looks to have malfunctioned. "I need a moment to come to terms with this."
Lando walks away in a daze, it leaves you all amused. You text Oscar telling him what happened with Lando.
Oscar didn't read your message, Lando walked in on him and his engineer while they were in a meeting.
"You-you- you have a wife?" Lando asked, and Oscar's gaze turned from confused to amused really quickly.
"Yeah." Oscar answered simply.
"What?" It was Tom's turn to be surprised.
"I'm married." Oscar held out his left hand showing his ring.
"I thought that was a family heirloom or something." Lando was exasperated.
"No, I lost one or two rings, so y/n, bought me a new one recently." Oscar explained.
"y/n? the girl you bring with you to races from time to time?" Tom asked remembering you, he saw you a few times, but there was never a sign that you're dating Oscar, never mind married to him.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"It just never came up." Oscar shrugged, leaving both men flabbergasted, astonished by the realisation.
"You're one of a kind, Oscar, seriously." Tom shook his head and sighed. "We have to get back to our meeting, this will have to wait."
It didn't take long for the news to travel, those that were in the hospitality and saw the whole thing go down with Lando went on and spread the news around. And Lando asked a few people if they knew, apparently only Zac knew, he thought Oscar wanted to keep it a secret so he said nothing.
The news took a while before it reached Williams.
"Mate, did you know Oscar is married?" Alex asked Logan, Logan frowned and looked up.
"Yeah." Logan answered as if it was a stupid question.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I thought it was a known thing, I don't know." Logan shrugged. "He's been married since he was 18."
"18!" This was an even bigger shock to the Williams driver.
"Yeah, the moment y/n turned 18, they got married."
"Wow."
And thus the news once again spread, this time the other way around, all the way back to McLaren.
By the time of the driver's parade almost everyone knew that the youngest member on track was married. Oscar was the last on the back of the truck/car thing. All eyes on the Aussie.
"What's... going on?" He asked as he moved down to an empty spot.
"Are you really married?" Charles asked.
"Yeah." It seemed like this was Oscar's favourite answer.
"So I have a daughter in law?" Charles asked and Oscar laughed before nodding. "Wow, they grow up so fast nowadays."
"And you've been married since you were 18?" Max was the one to ask, he's as curious as everyone.
"Yes, the month she turned 18, we got married, and she moved to the UK." Oscar informed them. "And before you ask, I knew her since we were like 5, and have been together since we were 10-11."
"That's crazy." George said to Alex next to him.
By the time the race was underway, a few cameras made it to the McLaren garage for a sight of you. As Oscar was leading the race, the camera flashed to you, with your name and Oscar Piastri's partner under it. The ones watching from home were left confused, but not for long. Oscar won his second race of his Formula 1 career in his 2nd season.
You made it to Parc Ferme, with his parents, his sisters opting to stay in the garage and not get squished. Oscar was the last of the top to make it back, he went to his team before he went straight to you, as always leaving his parents to be hugged after you.
"Congratulations, my love." You tell him, and he squeezes you tighter, the helmet is in the way, but you still kiss the side of it. Oscar then moves to his parents before he goes to get weighed and interviewed by Nico Rosburg.
"-and before we let you go, and not to take away from your win, I have to ask." Nico said and Oscar smiled, he knew what was about to be asked. "Set the records straight, are you married?"
"Yes, have been since I was 18." Oscar said and looked your way, and the camera panned to you, as you stood between his parents smiling with love and adoration for your husband.
"Well, it might be late, but congratulations." Nico said and patted his back, before Oscar made it to the cool-down room.
Cameras snapped a lot of pictures of you, as they waited for the podiums to start. It was obvious how familiar you are with Oscar's parents, and how they treated you like one of their daughters. The interaction was just filled with love and care. This has been going on for years, there's no denying it.
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"I didn't know it would be such big news." You said that night, as you and Oscar cuddled on the Sofa, having a quiet moment in the hotel with his family.
"I knew." Nicole said.
"I did too." Chris said.
"Me too." Hattie said.
"Of course it would."
"Obviously."
"Noted." You said and Oscar smiled, kissing the side of your head. "Now everyone knows you have a wife."
"And everyone from your university knows you have a husband."
"You two are still as awful as ever." Hattie said and rolled her eyes teasingly.
"You should've been used to it by now." Nicole said and smiled at her family.
Main Taglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . 
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hellfire--cult · 1 year
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Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.
Movie Night
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I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.
wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)
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Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.
You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 
But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.
So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.
When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.
And that sets your fate.
Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 
It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.
You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.
Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 
You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.
And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.
You’re fine. 
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“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 
“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.
“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 
“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 
You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 
Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.
Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.
After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.
He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.
He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
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Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 
You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.
Billy Hargrove.
Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.
“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.
“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.
“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.
“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 
“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.
“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 
“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 
Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 
It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.
“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.
“Why were you crying?” 
“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.
“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.
“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.
“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”
He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.
“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.
“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.
“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.
“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.
“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.
“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.
“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.
“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.
“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.
You didn’t need more reminders.
So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.
Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.
You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.
“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.
“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.
“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 
“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.
“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”
A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.
Yet–
“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 
“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.
“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.
“You’re in for a ride.”
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Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.
“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 
“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.
“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.
“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.
So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.
“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 
“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.
News flash, you didn’t like it.
“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.
“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”
You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 
“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.
“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 
“What?”
“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.
“Billy–”
“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 
You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 
“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.
“Can I kiss you?” 
What?
There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 
“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.
“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.
“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.
“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 
You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.
His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?
The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 
He wants to take care of you.
He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.
“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 
He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.
The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 
You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 
Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.
The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–
“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.
“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.
“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.
“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.
“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.
“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 
“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.
“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.
“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.
“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.
“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.
“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”
“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.
“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.
“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.
“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 
“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.
He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 
This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’
He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 
He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 
So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 
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Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.
But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.
“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.
“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 
While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 
You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 
So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.
His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.
“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.
“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 
“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.
“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.
“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.
“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.
“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.
“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.
“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 
“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 
Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.
“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.
“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.
“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 
“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.
“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.
“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.
“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.
“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.
“My turn.”
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A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.
7K notes · View notes
blossomingmoonlight · 3 months
Text
⭑ This is more than a sick love story (Pt.2) ⭑
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Part 2 to; "The ballad of the raven and the dragon, Part 1.
Pairing: Benjicot ("Davos") Blackwood x targ!princess!reader
Summary: Returning home after that evening was harder than you thought, the risky letters don't help either. Would it really hurt to meet again?
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, +18, heavy yearning, sexting in medieval times, mastrubation, pillow humping, making out, grinding, handjob, oral both m and f receiving. And some fluff <3.
Word count: 3k
POV: Benjicot Blackwood
A mixture of iron and salt coats his tongue, the clashing of swords and screaming of men fills his ears. Yet another man's blood spraying over his face and garbs. House Bracken wanted revenge for their fallen men and when they heard of the princesses departure they made their move. Even Benjicot could taste the cowardice in their blood. At this point the battle could barely be called a battle anymore as house Bracken had already suffered heavy losses. 
Benjicot couldn’t even keep up with the amount of Brackens he killed now, mind in a blur due to the adrenaline and violence. Even the cows didn’t survive. His men killed the remaining of the intruders and the battle was clearly won by house Blackwood. It had only been a week after the princess left and already his heart had a gaping hole which only could be filled by her. She promised she would write secretly, using ravens that would only ever make their way to him. 
The sun began to set as they left the sea of bodies behind them, making their way back to Raventree Hall. Upon arrival the gods had clearly answered his prayers because just when he got off his horse and handed him to one of the stable boys a raven flew towards him. Quickly taking the letter he made his way to his only place of privacy, and just like everyday he passed the dining hall. His cock stiffens every time he’s in or passes that room now, memories of the intimacy he shared with the princess flooding his mind. He finally got to his bedchamber and locked the door behind him once inside. Benjicot didn’t even bother to clean himself first, he ripped the unmarked seal off the letter and rolled it open.
Dear B,
I hope you are well, I wrote this as soon as I got home but I suppose the raven will take a bit to get back to you. The whole way back I couldn’t stop thinking about your handsome face, or your hands tracing my body. You are and will be on my mind until I get to see you again, however the idea of maybe never meeting you again strikes fear into my heart. I never thought that that one evening with you would change me so. I was too afraid to tell you this in person but you are the most fearsome, handsome and astounding man I have ever met. We have to meet again, I would not survive without your touch. Even thinking about that evening now sets my chest aflutter and my thighs soaking. You don’t even understand how badly I need you again. I hope you think of me as well. I hope you use my chemise every night to get off to the thought of me. I have thought long and hard about a place we could meet. I think the Whispering Wood is perfect, it is near enough for you to sneak out to and I can easily hide my dragon along the coast of Iron Man Bay. I hope you write back to me soon. 
Love, your pretty princess.
His mouth was still agape when there was a knock on his door. “My lord shall I draw a bath for you?” He could hear one of his servants' muffled voice. He rapidly stuffed the letter in his pocket, opened the door and let the servant do her work. Once the bath was drawn he dismissed the servant, he always washed himself since he never liked people just watching him be naked. With the door closing he removed the letter from his pocket and smelled. And like he suspected it smelt of ink, smoke and her perfume oil. Benjicot placed the letter on the small table beside the bath and swiftly removed his clothes. His cock already hard and leaking from reading the letter. 
He got in the warm bath with a sigh, he thought for a moment and grabbed the letter from the table next to him. His eyes scanned the words again and he felt his poor weeping cock begging for attention, so he read the letter once again, now grazing his thumb over the leaking slit on the head of his hard member. A mixture of a hiss and groan leaving his lips, he was so horny he didn’t even care if someone heard him. His eyes never leaving the letter he started to roughly jerk off his cock, the words on the paper relighting the memories of their shameful evening. 
His perverted mind only added fuel to the fire by imagining new scenarios with you, gods he’d fuck you on his bed, on his chair, on the settee, on the floor, against the wall, fuck even in the bath. The last image really spurred him on, moaning at the thought, he put the letter down for a moment to massage his seed filled balls as well as fisting his cock. Softly chanting your name through the room. “Please- please- fuck me- ride me baby just like that- ah fuck- I can’t-” 
Seven Hells even his own dirty little words made the fantasy feel real. Your cunt enveloping his hard sensitive cock, water splashing everywhere as both your moans filled the room. He could feel the familiar knot starting to snap in his belly, he fetched the letter from beside him again, thrusted into his fist a few more times and released ropes of his seed all over your letter. The words blurring as his cum covered them. He panted and shuddered at the sight. 
When Benjicot had calmed down from his orgasm he put the letter aside and now actually washed himself, even after he had dried himself off, had hidden the letter, and crawled into bed he still felt aroused. His cock hardening once again he knew his hand wouldn’t do so he threw the sheets of himself, removed his breeches and grabbed his pillow to position it just like he had you bend over the table. 
He then grabbed his again leaking precum member and positioned it against the pillow, the texture on his angry red tip feeling like pure bliss, he started humping against the pillow wishing it was you on his bed instead. Fucking the pillow harder and harder he decided it was better to release in his hand instead. So with a cuss and loud moan he spurted his cum in his hand imagining it was your cunt he was filling instead. After having cleaned off his hand in a basin, pulling his breeches back on he could finally fall asleep.
The next morning he immediately fetched paper and ink and started on a letter to write you back, when he was pleased with it he sent it by raven and hoped it would fall into your hands. Afterwards getting on with his duties as lord of Raventree Hall. 
Your POV:
A raven flew into the open window of Dragon Stone, the sun had set and you were in your chambers reading a book to your brother Joffrey. It had been two weeks since you sent that letter and you were beginning to get worried but relief washed over you at the sight of the raven. The second the raven landed on your settee you sent Joffrey back to his chambers guided by your handmaiden and told her that she was free for the night. She eyed you suspiciously but has always followed you loyally. When they left you grabbed the letter from the raven which flew away again and opened the unmarked seal, heart beating in your chest, you rolled the letter open.
My dear beloved,
Your raven arrived safely into my hands, I had to open it alone which proved to be needed because of your passionate writing. I am well unless you count the way in which you have plagued my mind. I can’t do any work without thinking, ‘what would my love think of this’ or ‘I wish my love could help me with this’. Seven hells, I can’t even walk in or pass my dining room anymore without my cock growing stiff in my pants. Any thought about you turns sinful, you have perverted me and turned me into a monster. Especially now without your touch. Last night when I read your letter, I read it in my bath. And you know what I did? I fucked my hand imagining it was your sweet cunt instead and when I reached my peak, I came all over your pretty handwriting. Your letter made me so horny I later fucked my pillow in bed too. So it is safe to say I need your touch too. So fucking badly. When you get this letter, try to leave as quickly as possible and head to our location. I will be waiting under the ruse of a solo hunting trip. Don’t make me wait too long my love. 
Love your B.
You went to bed with an uncontrollable smile on your face, your skin hot and folds wet at the thought of seeing your Benji again. The next morning you told one of the servants to inform your mother about your “flight to patrol the sea” so you could actually quickly get dressed and leave on dragon back to the Whispering Wood. The entire flight you thought about how meeting him again would go. High above the clouds your mind floods with impure thoughts of Benjicot Blackwood. When you knew you were about to be close to the shore of Iron Man Islands you still stayed high but descended out of the clouds so you could see. And you were right, no one was in sight when you landed with your dragon on the shore. 
So you began your pretty short walk to the Whispering Wood, nerves and excitement reeling through your body. Your walk through the Whispering Wood was different, anxiety started to take hold instead. What if he wasn’t able to come? What if someone caught you? However your fears began to ease when you could see the back of Benji’s hair and body who was standing near a small lake in the middle of the forest.
You walked as quietly as possible, wanting to surprise him. When you were near him you cupped your hands over his eyes and heard him laugh. He removed your hands and immediately turned around. He wasted no time crashing his lips on yours making you moan at his roughness. After some time he finally let go. “I have-” “I missed-” You both laughed at both of your attempts to speak first. So he started instead. “I am glad you got my letter, I can’t bear being without your touch and your voice any longer.” You smiled and a blush creeped onto your skin. “I couldn’t wait either. I don’t know what type of spell you casted on me but I don’t ever want to get rid of it.” He grinned at your words and took you in his arms once more.
“I don’t know if I can let you leave again. It would be too painful.” He confessed, holding your head against his chest with one hand and holding your waist with the other. “I don’t ever want to leave you again either but I don’t know how I would ever tell my family about this. And in the middle of a dragon war too.” He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head. “What did you tell them when you left?” Benji asked. “I told one of our servants to tell my mother that I went to patrol the seas, so I hope she bought it. I didn’t want to face her today.” You explained, your hands wrapping around him tighter. 
Benji held your chin and made you look at him. He softly licked his lips before devouring yours again like he did mere minutes ago. Except now both of your desires were growing strong. You felt like you were in heat every time he touched you. He kissed you like it was his last day on earth. You had kissed before but this time it was different. Who knew when you would see each other again?
He bit your bottom lip so he could let his tongue enter your mouth. Your feverent kiss turned into a full make out as he sucked and licked your tongue. He couldn’t hold his own groan back and let his hand slide to your ass cheeks, which he gripped harshly to pull you against him just like he did on your special evening. Which earned him a moan from you as you grazed his teeth with your tongue. Never did you think a kiss could turn so ravenous. “Benji-” You gasped against his lips when his hand began to massage your ass harshly. 
Making your two fronts grind against each other, his clothed already hard cock hitting your clothed wet cunt just right. He knew exactly what you liked and would do everything in his power to leave you shaking and trembling beneath his touch. “You want this fucking cock baby? You want it that fucking bad?” He pants against your lips, you could only moan a ‘please’ in response. 
He removed himself from you and helped you remove your clothes, you had never seen him this touch starved. He was truly acting like an animal. Benji got on his knees in front of you and swung your right leg over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him so badly. Your cunt was throbbing and almost hurting from how aroused Ben made you, your slick already coating your inner thighs. Benji held you steady and began to lap at your soaked folds, moaning at the taste of your sweet arousal. 
“Benji- please- I can’t take it-” Your want for him made you more sensitive than normal and all you could think about was how good his tongue was fucking you. It was so warm and wet and the way he used it to lap at your clit made you see stars. He took it a step further and entered a finger into your tight hole. It slipped in with ease and Benji grunted at the feeling, his own cock feeling tight in his breeches.
It didn’t take long for your orgasm to take hold of you, with the way he was fingering you and sucking and lapping at your clit, made you dizzy. You could only let out gasps and moans, your entire vocabulary being thrown out the window. With one last scream of his name he let go off you, already removing his pants and breeches ready to fuck you dumb but to his surprise you stopped him. “I want to do to you what you just did to me Benji.” You pleaded already looking up at him with your lashes. He took in a sharp breath and watched you sink to your knees.
Grabbing his leaking cock by the base you decided to lick up the precum and see how he would react. “Fuck- baby do that again. Don’t stop.” He gasped. You did as he commanded and this time sucked at his tip, resulting in him throwing his head back and moaning out of pleasure. The salty precum on your tongue motivated you to swirl your tongue around his tip and continue sucking. His groans and pants and ramblings of your name filled you with need but first you wanted his seed in your mouth again.
You continued to suck on his tip but now took him further in your mouth, earning you quite the explicit and long moan. Finally he looked down at you and softly held your head by your hair, guiding you a bit deeper. “Seven hells, look at you, swallowing my cock like that- You love it don’t you. Me using you as if your a common wench- Fuck- Just like that baby c’mon-” Him talking to you in such a manner made you reach for your clit, which made Benji smile and pant at the sight. Chasing your own release he helped you by guiding your head faster down his cock. Spit and precum drooling down your chin, hair all messed up. How would you even explain that to your family? 
“C’mon baby- I’m gonna fucking cum- You want my spent down your throat- Of course you do- Yes- Yes- Fuck!” The view of you cumming rubbing your clit finished him. You basically drank his cum as he filled your throat all while he gasped for air and moaned your name. When he pulled back from you, you licked your lips and smiled up at him. Never had you felt such power over a man. It felt way to fucking good. He pulled you back up and kissed you again. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He laughed breathlessly. 
“I think it’s about the same as what you do to me.” You smiled. He kissed your forehead before handing you your clothes again. While you both got dressed that heated, exciting and blissful mood turned quiet and solemn. You both knew you had to get back soon. After you were both dressed he sat down on the ground motioning for you to sit on his lap. You giggled as you joined him on the ground, pushing him back so you could lay on top of him, holding each other close. “I think I love you.” He suddenly blurted out. You looked at him with flushed cheeks and grazed your hand across his, over his lips and through his hair. “I think I love you as well.” He sat back up at your words and kissed you deeply. 
“Please, you can’t leave me.” He begged once he removed his lips from yours. “I don’t want to leave you.” You admitted. “You belong to me. You were made for me. I will destroy the world if that’s what it takes to make you my wife.” He rubbed your cheek with his hand as he spoke. “Come with me to Dragon Stone and ask my mother for my hand. If she for some reason refuses, I’ll cut through our guard myself if I have to, and we could run away.” He smiled at that and both of you agreed that he would ask for your hand.
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iiwaijime · 1 month
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sunshine princess — k. tsukishima
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tsukishima has always cared for you, but will he ever be brave enough to show it?
cws; angst, fluff, happy ending, kissing, fem!reader, petnames, arranged marriage to lovers, mentions of infidelity, swearing, not proofread i think thats all
wc; 2055
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you're eighteen, freshly graduated when your parents tell you about their plans; nineteen when you meet tsukishima kei. he is calm, confident, and self-assured, a complete opposite of you — you're wondering whether it's possible to survive a fall from a skyscraper. not that you'd ever actually do it, of course.
the wedding happens a week before you turn twenty, and that night, tsukishima has the grace to at least pretend to not notice as you cry yourself to sleep. when you've almost dozed off, you hear him stumble out of bed and walk away. you wonder if he has a girlfriend, another partner, someone he truly loves, someone you're keep him away from. the freezer opens and closes. the prospect of you coming between two people too jarring to think about, so you try not to, and you are asleep when he gets back to bed.
the next morning, you're mortified at your appearance in the mirror, eyes red and puffy — much worse than expected, too. no wonder tsukishima had looked at you like that. oh, shit. you're a tsukishima too, now. you turn around, preparing to go to the kitchen to look for an ice pack — you don't remember seeing one, but it still gives you something to do instead of hating yourself and him and your entire life. when you're maybe halfway there, you bump into your new husband. he hasn't been expecting to see you here either, freezing in place with a couple of spoons in one hand. wait, spoons?
he holds them out to you awkwardly, brows furrowing as you stare at him. "what? take them, my fingers are getting cold."
you finally find your voice. "what for?"
"your eyes?" he says it like it's obvious. "i put them in the freezer last night."
oh. oh.
"t-thank you," you stammer, snatching them out of his hands, rushing back to the bathroom. maybe things aren't that bad after all.
living with tsukishima means you have to learn quickly that words are not enough — words are never enough. the first few days, it's difficult for you. when you cook something hoping he'll like it, and all you get is a cursory good, a distracted not bad.
it hurts, really hurts at first. you don't even want to be here, and the lack of appreciation makes it so much worse. that is, until, he invites his best friend, tadashi yamaguchi, over for dinner.
the two of you get along much easier than you expect — he's a complete opposite of your husband. when tsukishima is away from the table, he asks about the recipes. he's heard great things about your cooking, he says. tsukki will not shut up.
"i thought he didn't like it," you say. yamaguchi laughs at that, and that day you find out that with tsukishima, you have to look deeper than just words. you have to notice the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and his appreciative hums, and the way he takes second helping and sometimes even thirds.
and then one day he approaches you, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. he clears his throat, runs one hand through his already messy blonde hair, clears his throat again. he fixes his glasses as you stare up at him expectantly. "yes?"
"canyoumakesomemorestrawberryshortcake."
"what?"
"strawberry shortcake," he gets out through gritted teeth. oh, you realise. he's embarrassed. "can you make some mo—"
"of course!" you reply before he can finish, trying to spare him the humiliation. on second though, this does mean he likes what you make. life is suddenly a little bit nicer.
tsukishima (willingly) holds your hand for the first time on your first anniversary. you refer to him as kei, now, and he doesn't really mind either. he thinks it's pretty, the way you say it. but he'll never tell you that, of course. he buys you your favourite flowers, even though it's not supposed to be a special date, because you're only married because your parents made you.
you hold the bouquet with one hand. "kei, you didn't have to!"
"i wanted to," he shrugs. "you're not the worst person to do this with."
"oh," you sigh, and the smile on your face is real, so real, and so is the way his lips quirk up — a small movement, but it's there nonetheless. "you too, kei."
you turn to go put the flowers in a vase when he grabs your wrist, pulling you back gently. his hand slots perfectly into yours, and he gives it an experimental squeeze. you squeeze back, and his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. "i mean it, y/n."
"i know." it's hard to suppress the grin that's trying to take over your face as you say it. "me too."
handholding becomes normal after that, whether he's holding onto you in the midst of a crowd, or the two of you are at home and he's playing with your fingers lazily. sometimes kei's doing something on his phone — he uses it one-handed, even if it makes things more difficult or slows down his typing — and your hand is in his other one. your hands might lie in the space between the two of you, fingers tangled together, or maybe he's tracing shapes, letters, words onto your palm — whatever comes to mind. either way, you like it. you like him.
nowadays, he even kisses you(r cheek) goodbye before work, and if he's extra tired after, he finds himself melting into you. your presence itself comforts him, your existence a soothing hand over his brow. he hopes you don't mind where this is going.
spoiler alert: you don't.
you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee when your husband walks into the kitchen, rubbing at his bleary eyes. he looks like he's just gotten out of bed and come here. there's something different about him that you cannot quite place, so you ignore it, half-turning to face him. "morning."
"g'morning," kei responds. his morning voice is low, rough as he walks up to where you're situated between the counter and the kitchen island. his hand falls to your waist easily as he moves you out of his way to stand behind you. his chin rests on your shoulder as he stifles a yawn. "i want some too."
you hand him your cup and he hums gratefully after taking a sip. putting it back on the counter, he wraps his arms around your waist. his body curves over yours as he lets go of himself. the weight is comforting as it blankets you — maybe the two of you can stay like this forever. you relax into the back hug; he nudges your head with his. "can't find m'glasses."
oh. so that's what's missing.
"i'll help you find them," you suggest, not questioning his rather... clingy attitude today. it's been well over two years since the two of you got married, and while he has told you on multiple occasions that you can see whoever you want, your moral code is still not low enough to partake in what can basically be termed as infidelity. even if the marriage is arranged, and there are no feelings involved — that's a lie, you know by now that you've definitely fallen for your husband, and hard — you still don't want to do anything of that sort, which has lead to you becoming quite touch-starved over time. so when tsukishima started becoming more and more physically affectionate as of late, you didn't dare question it, savouring every moment instead. over time, it's gone from fleeting touches and hooking his pinkie around yours while he tries to look unbothered, to much more confident hugs and handholding. essentially, everything a couple can do together — except kissing.
that's not to say you don't want to kiss him; you really do. when you see him chewing on his bottom lip, lost in thought, you want to kiss him. when you see him lick his lips while playing volleyball at all the games that he's started inviting you to now, even from afar you want to kiss him. and when one of his old friends from high school texts him about something stupid and his lips turn up into a pout without him noticing, you definitely want to kiss him.
but you digress.
it takes a two-minute search to find them on the floor by the bed; the floor by your side of the bed no less. the covers are more messy than you remember, even though you're sure you fixed up your part of the bed. the blankets are messy, pillows squished. the only way it could possibly be this way is if someone had been rolling around and also hugging your pillows.
you and tsukki live alone. you don't have any pets. you didn't do anything, and tsukki definitely would not — would he?
"why're you even out of bed so early?" you ask him as he falls back onto the covers. "you don't have work today."
kei flushes — actually flushes, a pretty red hue spreading across his face as he thinks of an answer. "you... weren't there," he says carefully.
"i see." your reply is just as cautious as you test the waters; after all, this is the first time whatever the two of you have going on between you has emerged from where it was comfortingly held captive in words left unspoken. "well, i'm here now."
"good," he says, and there's the slightest hint of a smile playing about his lips as he pats the space beside him. "c'mere."
oh dear. you really are sleepy, aren't you? maybe you shouldn't have gotten up this early either.
this time, you're the one waking up alone in bed — fortunately, too, because extricating yourself from the ridiculous pile of limbs that the two of you become every night is one of the least favourite parts of your day.
you find him pacing around the living room, phone held up to his ear. "that's not fucking working, tadashi! she's my wife, i can't just tell her that!"
his eyes meet yours; you raise a brow. tsukishima looks like a deer caught in headlights, before he cuts the call and puts his phone down. "hi."
"hi," you respond. anxiety twists in your stomach, a dark creature from an inky pool that crawls out and takes all of you. "what can't you just tell me?"
"nothing." it comes out too fast, and he knows he's fucked up by saying it.
"o-oh." you take it brilliantly, in stride. "well, are you having an affair, or something?"
you try to play it off as a joke, but the fear and insecurity is pathetically apparent in your voice. "i don't mind if you are—"
"i'm not!"
"it's totally okay if you are! that was part of our agreement, right?"
kei groans. he's not sure whether he should be put off or attracted by the way you're hell-bent on lying your way through this. "i swear i'm not, y/n."
"then?"
he swallows harshly. oh well, now it never. "come sit?"
you comply quietly. if not an affair, then what? technically, it doesn't count as one, you have to admit. but still, what was all of that affection for, then? to soften the blow?
"i like you," he whispers. his hands twist around each other nervously, knuckles white. "i know this is weird because we're fucking married, but i do—"
"okay," you breathe. "okay, me too."
you've thought about kissing kei tsukishima way more than you should. and when his tongue slips out to wet his grinning lips and his hand brushes your hair away and splays out to hold your face in one fluid motion, you especially want to do that. so you do.
you like being in love with him. when the two of you are glued together, when he absentmindedly traces iloveyous onto your palm, when he draws hearts on your shoulders with his thumbs. when he becomes much more vocal about how much he loves you, exactly. now, you even get to hear him say it out loud.
"i love you," he says, kissing your pajama-clad shoulder. "my sunshine princess."
"fuck's that?" you ask him, laughing, but you like it all the same.
"you're that," he replies, and refuses to elaborate.
as it turns out, you like him being in love with you too.
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been on that married couple shit lately thanks mom ig. my parents also used to call me somethinf along the lines of sunshine/little miss sunshine when i was a kid bc i was so happy. not so me now but ill take it:)
chest hurts when i inhale like stopppp.
anyways 2:30am so i'll sleep now. lot of care, take love.
also ive been stuck at 499 for hours now so what should i do for 500
tags !! @akaakeis + @smiithys (gen taglist open!!)
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g0dlyunsub · 3 months
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prove it.
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you confront spencer about a broken promise on his day off from work, and he’s determined to make it up to you.
pairing :: spencer x gn!reader 
warnings :: established relationship, some intimacy (a shower scene), use of pet names (once), fluff and some angst
word count :: 1.6k
author’s note :: originally an anonymous request, it took me forever to write the ending but it’s finished!! anyways, soft spencer >>>
accompanying song ::  i don't want to talk by wallows
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“sorry baby, give me five minutes to look at this. they just found another cipher.”
“any chance you could force the gears in your head to move faster?”
you clap your hand over your mouth right after you say those words, but you’ve already set the wheels in motion.
spencer chuckles as if amused by your comment, still not looking up from the printed sheet, and begins to twirl the pen around his fingers. he looks so attractive whenever he performs the maneuver, you unconsciously bite down on your bottom lip.
“mm… combined cipher with the first being a simple vigenere…” he trails off, scratching the paper with multiple pen strokes.
you pout and make your way over to his desk. your boyfriend had told you that today was going to be your day, that he’d be ready to do whatever you wanted. anything, he said. 
but if there’s anything you should conclude, it’s that the man will never fail to occupy his brain with something to solve, like it’s a necessity for survival. despite his team insisting that he take the day off, you know that even they won’t interfere when it comes to the laborious task of decrypting ciphers. 
still, you think it won’t hurt to try.
you lift his left arm over your head so you can move in and slowly slide onto his lap. as you settle down, you wrap your arms around his neck and lower your head on his shoulder. you feel spencer lean into the back of his chair ever so slightly, but he doesn’t return the embrace. instead, he continues to write on his paper wordlessly.
not even a minute passes when a vibration spreads across spencer’s lap. with a light grunt, his hand grips the flesh of your thigh and moves it lower on his lap, and he reaches into his pocket. you let out a disgruntled sigh as he accepts the phone call.
“hey garcia, what is it?”
as spencer listens to the tech analyst on the other side of the line, you start to run your hands along the fabric of his cardigan. he told you that he was keeping the professional attire on “just in case they wanted to video call”, but everything you wanted to do with him was anything but professional. 
you move your hands to his hair that’s been recently trimmed, following the trail until it thins out at the nape of his neck. 
“that’s fine, i’ll check it when you send it over. i think i solved the cipher by the way, it’s a combined-“ 
his breath hitches when you start to kiss the side of his neck that’s angled perfectly for your lips, and he taps at your thigh warningly. 
“-cipher that uses a vigenere for the first part and a phillips system for the second. using a hill climbing search for the rest of the ciphers might help,” he tries again, releasing a shaky exhale.
you ignore his signal and continue to explore lower, littering kisses all over his collarbone.
“i uh, i gotta go. let me know if you find anything else.”
you smile as spencer hastily cuts the call and returns the phone into his pocket. 
“now’s not a good time.”
you pull away from his skin at the sudden comment, raising your brows in surprise. “but you said five minutes-”
“i can’t focus when you’re here,” he interrupts, gaze lingering on your smooth lips.
“i’m just too distracting?”
“yeah, no- yes. at least when i’m at work i’m not in the same room as you, but at home, when you’re doing this, it’s just… i can’t think about anything else.”
“you should do something about it then.”
spencer narrows his eyes, looking at you questioningly. it’s at this moment when all signs of your boldness dissipate into the air, and you swallow hard.
“maybe… maybe it isn’t necessarily a bad thing to be distracted. i mean what if it’s just mentally torturing you because you’re not doing anything about it?” 
for a moment, spencer seems deep in thought, like he’s contemplating every implication, every untold possibility embedded in your proposal. but he doesn’t deliberate for long, because he lifts you by the back of your knees and sets you on your feet again, further away from his desk. he then gestures at the door.
you stand crestfallen, like you’ve just been deeply humbled, unable to move or react. but when he simply reverts his attention back to his sheet of code, you know that he’s making it clear he doesn’t want to entertain your thoughts any longer.
“fine,” you mutter at last, angrily walking out the door without exchanging another look.
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you’re lying in spencer’s bed when you hear the knock at the bedroom door, and before you can say anything, your boyfriend walks in.
“i just finished. are you-”
you lie still, tears welling in your eyes as you refuse to acknowledge his presence. 
maybe if you play pretend and make him think you’re asleep, he’ll leave you alone. you suppose then he’ll occupy himself with even more work.
you hear his footsteps thud louder as he approaches you. when he stops, you can practically feel him, standing just a few inches from your face. 
you then feel him stoop slightly and lower his fingers to comb through your hair. he sweeps your strands slowly, like applying any more force would harm you.
“i know you’re awake.” 
you don’t respond.
“hm. maybe not.”
you hear the sound of receding footsteps and when you think you’re safe, you open your eyes.
only to lock eyes with spencer. his mouth widens into a cheeky grin, and his soft hair falls over his eyes as he takes in your flushed expression.
“got you.”
“that is so unfair!” you pout, pushing your palms against the bed to sit up. you hug your knees to your chest and look down, trying to save yourself the embarrassment of showing him your reddening cheeks.
his chuckles fill the silence for a second before he clears his throat, and he slowly sinks into the bed beside you. the air suddenly feels ten times heavier, weighed down with the unresolved incident from earlier.
“i owe you an apology,” spencer starts as he inhales, “i couldn’t keep a simple promise and i just… i told you to leave.”
“you can save it, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you return, tears muddling your voice.
“yes, yes it does. i know that saying sorry doesn’t change what i did, and you have every right to be mad at me. i deserve it.”
you look up at him, and his broken expression immediately shatters your heart into fragments. you can’t really stay mad at him, at the man who saves lives without asking for anything in return. he’s never held a single malicious thought towards anyone; he’s pure kindness personified.
you just wish he could feel at peace with you and not constantly worry about work.
you lower your head against his chest and listen to the soft palpitations of his heart, while he wraps an arm around you. 
“you can choose not to accept my apology,” spencer utters with a plaintive voice, “but i’ll do everything to prove how sorry i am.”
“everything?” you ask, lifting your head and slowly standing back on your feet. you wrap your hand around his tie, looping one finger at a time, and he watches you with curious eyes.
you lightly tug at the fabric, urging him to stand, and walk backwards until your feet knock into the bathroom door. you fiddle with the wooden frame and when you find the knob, you step inside without breaking eye contact.
spencer raises his brows, a soft chuckle exiting his upturned lips as he closes the door behind him without looking back. “if you’ll let me, i can try.”
you clench your jaw, taking great interest in the way he eyes your lips. “show me,” you utter, your voice an alluring mix of sweet and spicy.
with one hand, he removes his tie, while with the other, he traces your lips and slides his thumb down to your chin.
“mm,” you hum and pull away from him teasingly. “you need to work harder than that.”
just then, his phone rings again, high-pitched beeps sounding from his pants pocket.
your expression falls when he holds the phone against his ear. but this time, he looks at you with a straight face when he speaks into the mic: “sorry jj, now’s not a good time.” 
your eyes immediately widen at his response, the same words that made you upset just a few hours earlier now filling you with irrepressible desire. 
spencer seems to reciprocate the urge, because he ends the call, tosses his phone to the side, and wraps his hands around your waist. without another moment of hesitation, your lips ram onto his with such force that everything meshes into a blur. his face, his hair, his clothes — his everything intertwines with yours. 
“i’m sorry,” he whispers as his palms slide under your shirt and massage your sides in circles.
it doesn’t take long for your back to bump against the slippery walls of the shower, for the water to tangle your hair around spencer’s fingers as he grips the back of your head. 
if you thought he was just going to plant a few kisses here and there, you were deeply mistaken. he works his tongue like a starved man, hungrily pushing past your teeth to leave his taste inside.
“i’m sorry,” he murmurs as you gasp for air and claw at his back from the heavenly sensation.
“i’m sorry,” he pants as his tongue falls onto the expanse of your neck, popping the soapy bubbles lathering your skin one by one. he peppers you with kisses wetter than the drops of water spraying you from the showerhead.
there’s nothing but the sounds of gushing water to drown out his whispers and your soft whimpers of his name.
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itsonlydana · 5 months
Text
Find a cure for my heart | hobbit
pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑
On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.
warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end
words: 5,6k
an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!
+ masterlist + rules
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
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Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.
In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.
They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?
Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.
You had your own story. A different one.
But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.
You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.
You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.
Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.
Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"
Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.
It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.
A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.
Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.
The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.
And so he did.
Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.
Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.
You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.
And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.
There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.
Especially you.
There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.
No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.
The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.
That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.
Or the Elvenking.
Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.
"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.
In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.
"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.
You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.
The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.
The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.
That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.
Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?
Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.
Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.
'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'
Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.
Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.
You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.
It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.
You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.
When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.
You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.
What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.
There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.
You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.
It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.
You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.
Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.
The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.
"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.
His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"
"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."
Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.
You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.
Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.
Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.
You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.
The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.
Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.
You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.
Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.
Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.
"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"
You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.
She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.
"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.
Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.
Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.
"Tilda–"
You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.
The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.
You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.
Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.
This had to be a dream.
Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.
Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.
A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.
"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.
For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.
The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.
"What are you doing here?"
"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"
Ah, straight to the point.
"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.
Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.
This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.
You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.
One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.
"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."
He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.
Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.
That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.
It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.
Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."
The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.
You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."
Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.
"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"
A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.
"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."
"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."
"But –"
"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.
You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.
"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."
"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.
He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.
The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.
Now, there remained little of that stillness.
"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"
"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"
The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.
Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.
You searched for a response inside you but found none.
All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.
Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.
His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.
Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.
The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.
You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"
"It was indeed, and far beyond that."
The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"
Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.
He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."
How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?
They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.
While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.
He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.
You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.
You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.
You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.
"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"
He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.
Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.
"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."
"He noticed it all?"
"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."
You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."
"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."
"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"
Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."
You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"
Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."
You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.
"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.
"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."
In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.
Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.
Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.
He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.
As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.
"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.
While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.
You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.
Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.
"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."
There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.
This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.
Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.
Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.
They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.
You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.
Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.
With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.
584 notes · View notes
wannabespiderman · 8 months
Text
Instructions unclear, sent a bowl of chocolate cereal.
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Bucky Barnes x reader
You get your grumpy old man a smartphone. Chaos ensues.
.
.
.
Bucky suspiciously inspected the black rectangle between his fingers. “That’s not the phone I had in mind.” Of course, he had probably been thinking of a damn rotary phone when you suggested he needed something to keep in touch with people. You knew he had this weird relationship with modern technology, he was very wary of everything electronic and if he didn’t get the hang of it immediately he would just get frustrated. On the other hand, if he was able to figure it out himself he was openly proud of it, telling you how easy it was. You always had to walk the fine line between something enhanced enough that it was actually useful these days and simple enough that he wouldn’t become grumpy and pout about it while talking your ear off at how ‘the simpler times’ were called that for a reason.
A Smartphone was very very risky. Sure, you could’ve found an old flip phone or a Nokia brick but those things just hadn’t survived the test of time and according to your very professional opinion as his partner and self-proclaimed emotional support nuisance, this man desperately  needed to stay in contact with the few people he would call his friends.
Despite your worry you put on your most supportive smile and turned the phone in his hand so he held it right side up. “Try it at least, okay? It’s cool.” You tried to assure him. He didn’t have to do a lot, you already set it up for him and downloaded all the apps you deemed necessary, helpful or fun, you even turned on the accessibility option so he could navigate his phone with one hand since the metal one wouldn’t work on a screen and would probably also leave scratches, so all that was left for him was to explore his new toy. You guided his pointer finger to the side of the phone and let him press the little button which made the screen turn on. Bucky gave you an unsure glance before turning his attention back to the phone in his hand and just kinda…stared at it until the screen turned off again. For a moment you didn’t know what was going on until you realized that with Bucky, specificity was key. You shook your head to shoo away the previous confusion his behavior caused and shuffled closer to him. “Do it again.” You encouraged him. Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly.
Oh no.
You held your breath, waiting for him to potentially hand the phone right back to you and suggesting that writing letters would be enough. After what felt like a minute he finally pressed the button again and you quietly released your breath. “Great! Now you just need to drag your thumb gently over the screen and you’re good to go.” Bucky slowly followed your instructions and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him, his eyes lighting up. Still, he tried to play it cool. “Huh. That was easy.”
Not specific enough.
You looked at your phone and tried to make out what exactly Bucky had sent you. It must’ve been a picture of his face, right? You thought you could see the brown of his hair in this blurry mess but on the other hand it could also be…maybe a bowl of chocolate cereal? Some Chili, maybe? No, there was definitely too little red for it to be Chili.
The man recently learned how to text like a normal person, more or less, but you didn’t know he also kind of figured out how to send pictures. His picture moved upwards when another blurry mess appeared in your chat. You squinted your eyes at the new picture, it was mostly white with some grey stripe in the middle. You gave up, no way you could figure out what the hell that one was.
Bucky…what is that? You typed out. The next message he sent you gave you move questions than answers.
I need a new phone. That was impossible, his smartphone was less than three days old. Sure, it could’ve cracked but you were sure he would’ve told you about that.
What’s wrong with your phone? Maybe I can help? You suggested. You didn’t have to wait for an answer too long.
Yes, please. You quietly chuckled to yourself, half amused by his struggles, half compassionate of them. You decided it would be best to talk to him face to face so you raked your fingers through your hair a few times to hide the fact that you’ve been hanging around in your bed for the last few hours and clicked the video call option on your screen. It rang and rang and…rang…until finally your screen lit up, or dulled down because all you could see was darkness with a touch of a chestnut color. You should’ve known that this would happen.
“Bucky, it’s a video call.” You informed him and watched as he pulled the phone away from his ear and instead looked at his screen, his brows furrowed like he always did when he lost a fight against technology. “Oh…” He grumbled.
“So, what’s wrong with your phone?” Bucky pressed his lips together, his eyes looking anywhere but at his phone.
“Bucky?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky let out a sigh and wiped his face with his right hand but you could see the slight blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.
“Was anyone going to tell me that there are two cameras? Why the hell would anyone need two?” You saw him lean against the headrest and turn his head to the side with an annoyed expression. Your heart melted a little bit, you couldn’t help but find it endearing at how clueless he was when it came to things that were common knowledge to you.
“James, stop pouting.” There was a tone of amusement in your voice even though you tried to feign sternness. Bucky’s head shot back towards where he could see you on the screen in his hand and blinked a few times as if he was trying to comprehend what you just said. You never really called him by his first name and his reaction made you clench your jaw and hold your breath so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” You asked innocently and batted your lashes towards your camera. Bucky narrowed his eyes but couldn’t suppress the little smile that was tugging on the corners of his mouth. You grinned triumphantly, happy that you could at least lighten his mood a little bit. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You finally said and playfully scrunched your nose. “So was that it? Did you have a problem taking pictures because you tried to take them with the outer camera?” Buckys smile slightly faltered but he chuckled nonetheless.
“Yeah, I guess. Sorry to be a bother with all the…you know, modern stuff, I-“ You cut him off immediately. “Don’t you dare apologize for that, you’re still learning and I’m happy to help. Hey, I’m very proud of you for making it work with the phone.” Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly but you could see his eyes soften. “I try.”
You continued talking to him for a while about nothing in particular until you decided that you both needed some rest and hung up. It was merely twenty minutes later, you just settled down and closed your eyes when your phone vibrated. A message from Bucky. You curiously opened the message to see if he had any more problems but instead your lips curled into a big, bright smile.
He sent you a picture, this time you could fully make out what it was, a photo of a shirtless Bucky laying on his couch, his eyes crinkled as he wore a proud grin with the caption I figured it out!
__________
Tag list: @lunaroserites
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writer-in-theory · 2 years
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"It's a wonder Steve's survived this long, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie hissed.
Eddie hasn't stopped pacing the hospital waiting room ever since Steve was taken back for 'testing'. The doctors had listed out various scans but there were too many acronyms to keep track of. All Eddie knew was that Steve had been hiding his pain for at least a day, maybe longer, until he collapsed at work with Robin.
That was the second worst call Eddie had ever gotten in his life.
"Harrington?" the doctor called out then, holding onto a metal clipboard tightly and looking around the busy emergency room. In an instant Eddie was on his feet, practically sprinting to where the doctor was standing.
"How is he, doc? Get to keep all his fingers?" He wanted to joke, but the words fell flat in the sterility of the room. The last time he'd been here had been after...No. The Upside Down had long since been closed off from their world and Vecna was disintegrated into that weird otherworldly ash. It was over.
"Are you family?"
Nancy and Robin had prepped him for this one, too. In everything but the law, Eddie and Steve were husbands. They'd had a wedding with Robin and Dustin as their Best (Wo)Men and Wayne as their officiant, in the middle of the night where no one would notice but them. They'd celebrated their fifth anniversary two weeks ago, they were the loves of each others' lives. But to the government, to this doctor, they weren't anything but friends who shared a bed. Fuck the nineties.
"Yeah, he's my brother-in-law," Eddie answered, knowing when Nancy showed up they could pass this lie off decently. "How's Steve doing?"
The doctor gave him a long look, but otherwise nodded and rechecked his clipboard. "Mr. Harrington is getting prepped for emergency surgery, currently, as he's s—"
"Emergency surgery? What do you mean surgery?" Already Eddie could feel the tell-tale warning signs of panic as his heart began to race and his palms got sweaty. Surgery wasn't good. They weren't supposed to do this. No more hospitals, no more surgeries, no more 'wait and see's. They'd promised after last time, Steve promised.
"Sir," the doctor pushed, looking more irritated than concerned. "This is a routine procedure, we see it all the time. Mr. Harrington has a case of appendicitis, pretty bad by the looks of it. Has he been feeling any pain lately?"
"Yeah, yeah the bastard has," Eddie hissed, not sure if he was about to laugh or cry. Appendicitis. Fucking appendicitis. He'd had that as a kid, he still remembered all the popsicles and ice creams Uncle Wayne let him have in the days after, cooped up in the trailer watching boring TV shows while all his friends were at school. "Is he already in surgery? Can I see him?"
"He's being prepped, but you can see him. We gave him some medication to calm him down and ease his pain, so Mr. Harrington may be...out of it," the doctor warned as he led Eddie through the maze of hallways behind the front desk. "Next time, let your brother-in-law know he shouldn't ignore this kind of pain."
"Oh don't you worry, doc, I'll make sure to pass on the message," Eddie answered, practically glaring at the closed hospital room door. Fucking appendicitis and Steve had ignored it, passed it off as a pulled muscle after a run.
Seeing Steve in a hospital bed didn't get any easier, though it was hard to be angry or scared when the man's head lolled across the pillow to reveal a brilliant, out-of-it smile Eddie had never seen before. "Eddie!" Steve cooed, reaching his arms out for the other man.
Eddie couldn't help but laugh, crossing the distance quickly so he could press Steve's arms back to the bed. "Hey, c'mon now, Harrington, don't wanna pull that IV line out."
"Did they tell you they're stealing my organ? They're stealing it, Eds!"
"It's a pretty useless one anyway, you won't even miss it."
Steve's face scrunched up at that, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "How dare you! Of course I'll notice one of my little guys got separated! What if he gets lonely?"
"You're..." Eddie tried not to laugh, if only because he's sure that'll make Steve fly off the handle even further. He scrubbed a hand across his tired face, sure his expression was full of nothing but fondness now for the man laying in the hospital bed. "You're afraid your appendix will get lonely?"
"I just...they're all meant to be together, you know? You can't separate one and expect it won't get lonely. Don't let them steal my organ, Eds."
"I," Eddie began, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. "Stevie, baby, it's not stealing if a doctor does it. They're taking it out because it's being a troublemaker. It doesn't belong there anymore, you can't keep trying to make it fit somewhere it doesn't."
"Never stopped me before," Steve answered with a little slur. "Maybe I like troublemakers." Then, leaning over with his hand by his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper, he said at full volume, "I mean you, Eddie."
There was no laugh like the one Steve was able to pull from him, of that Eddie had learned years before. He laughed until his chest hurt and tears gathered in his eyes, until even the nurse peeked their head in to check on the two of them.
"C'mon, Stevie. You go be a rockstar in there and I'll be right beside you when you wake up. We'll go get so much ice cream you forget about your stolen appendix," Eddie offered, pressing a kiss to Steve's non-IV lined hand.
"I'll be such a good rockstar you gotta put me in the band," Steve answered, blowing a kiss to Eddie as the surgical team came in to wheel him off. "Love you, Eds."
Warmth spread through his chest, warming him from the insides out until Eddie worried he might burn up from the intensity of Steve's love. "Love you too, Steve."
Eddie stands and watches as they wheel Steve out of the room, laughing as Steve yelled after him.
"I can't believe you're letting them steal my poor appendix, Munson! I won't forget this!"
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mehiwilldoitlater · 14 days
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"Get your dirty hands off me! LET GO OF ME!"
"Listen Brother! We must act with respect! We have a lady in our hands!"
The two yaoguais kept on laughing while they were dragging you somewhere, far away from your friend and protector.
Everything happened so fast that you couldn't register the events: the Destined One, and you had to head to the location of the second relic, which you knew was in this desert. It seems easy at first; you thought that you just needed to be as careful as the last time, but something went wrong!
How could you not notice those scouts?! Maybe they were more used to the state of the place; maybe the dust covered the smell for your friend; what you know Is that in a couple of minutes your monkey was now on the ground, his chest puerced with arrows, agonizing yes, but still alive? You tried to help him; take the gourd that you carried with you with your healing wine, but before that, those rats had already captured you. You kept on struggling and fighting as much as you could, but instead they have other plans for you.
"Our second prince will love this snack! I heard that this one is a really good catch."
"Ah! Please! Maybe he'll give us a bite!"
They were planning to give you fkr lunch to their prince. 
If it was them or him, you didn't care; what you did care was to survive and help your monkey out of that mess.
You were so focused on trying to break free from care where they were dragging you, but you started to think that it must have been an indoor when the scorching sun wasn't burning your head anymore.
It looked like a cave, maybe a temple inside the mountain based on the carvings on the walls. Columns made of pure stone, stalagmites, and stalactites decorated with sacred figures and prayers, commemorative candles near statues of Buddha and his disciples.
The ones that built the city must have used the caves in order to obtain more spaces, maybe?
You didn't get enough chance to ask since the two rats didn't show any kindness when they literally threw you on the ground.
"Shouldn't we... I don't know...cook her or something?"
"Ah! The prince and the king live their food fresh and squirmy! Now let's go; he doesn't like being seen while he eats."
And while you were Just pick up yourself from the ground, you Heard their soft and fast footsteps, leaving you in this new side of the cave. There were objects, quite a lot even, all of them around, like some small mountains of trinckets and stuff.
Furniture was around, but those were so damaged and old that you questioned if someone could even use it like that. On the walls of the cave, someone had put some decoration—canvases that had almost lost all of their colors, rusted weapons that were long lost—lost the care that they used to, for the exception of a scary giant Chui that was resting on the ground, ready to be picked.
Whoever was able to hold it must have been a quite herculean creature.
There was such a short source of light, coming from one hole in the ceiling of the wall and...from the way they took you in! There was no door, no bars, nothing! 
You didn't want to waste anymore time, and so you sprinted in the same direction that the two rats had left you, until a rumble on your feet almost tripped you for the second time.
There was another, then another one. 
Footstep, something big was walking towards you.
Two giant feet, covered in fur and some claws that you swear could rip apart your flesh, incased you. The armor was old and marred but still held some remembrance of his rank and position in his kingdom.
A large and long tail and a pointy mout... it was a rat, but it was grotesquely big. His yellow eyes scrutinized you, while his nose was sniffing the air in your direction.
Without thinking twice, you bolted so fast to escape from that thing, but you didn't get enough time since he was fast enough to grab you from your ankle and raise you up like an old ragged doll. You tried to kick it, scratch it, and try to punch it, but he didn't budge a little; it was like a mosquito bite for him.
"LET ME GO! STOP!"
Despite your plea, he just stood there, looking at you and sniffing more closely. A few of your hair sucked in his nostrils, and so I kept it up for a few more seconds. You couldn't see it, but it seemed... curious. He decided to change your position, holding you by your waist, trying to see you better from another angle.
You were beyond terrorized; from near, he was even worse! AND THAT SMELL! You shivered in his grasp, too afraid to move another punch or kick while he studied you. He finally stopped moving when your face hit a direct ray of sunlight from the hole in the ceiling. You gasped, tried to cover yourself, and then...the ground. 
He didn't tossed you at all; he just putted you down. It was incredible to notice that you didn't even feel any pain in your abdomen from where he had grasped you. At that point, he just started to emit something that reminded you of some kind of giggle, a few snorts, and he looked...excited? He trotted to one of the small trinkets stacked near the bed that you assumed was his own. starting to move things around.
He was distracted. That was your chance! You slowly start to pick it up from where you left it to get out from there, when you felt again his enormous hand on your back, grasping the back of your shirt from behind, rising you up again like a kitten.
"Stop it! I don't-"
And then, again, you were seated...in front of what once was maybe a nice tea set. His throat was emitting a strange sound while he started a small fire and put a big iron pot of water on it. He was...humming...while making tea? And there were two pairs of small cups, old and dusty, and one was for you?
You didn't muttered a word, preferring to stare at that strange creature that was now putting some dried herbs; you wondered if it was even tea in the pot, still very small for something of his size.
"Wha...what are...you doing?"
"Making tea...for the guest!"
Okay, now it was a really good moment to freak out; he thought you were a guest?! HIS GUEST?! 
"I thought you were supposed to..."
You held your tongue, reminding him about the fact that you were lunch for him; it may be quite a problem. You tried another time to move away, but suddlenly got back in place when some kind of conckut was versed in your cup. A few big drops spilled; he wasn't so versatile in this.
And then he looked at you. No, staring. He was there, staring at you, waiting for a response, and you looked at the staff in your cup. Imagine the food infection that it would cause. You kept on staring at it, trying to come up with every possible excuse to avoid the ingestion of the brooth, but three meters Yaogauis don't leave room for so many options. You gulped the content of the cup, trying to hold the near vomit coniate.
",..Gee...thanks...that was...so nice! .....Thanks..."
Oh was... please, like a lot. He started to clap, happy, drinking directly from the pot.
After that, he started again to act strangely. But this time it wasn't about taking care of the guest, but just...pile up staff...on you.
He made sure that you were comfortable, as much as you were, but his actions reminded you of a child that is showing you staff. At some point he even tried to put a necklace around your neck, but your sudden shriek made him desist, only for him to put the garmet in your hand. It was an old and broken jade pearl necklace; maybe there was a pendant in the middle since the space, but it was long gone. The small gems were broken or ruined, but it seemed to be once a really nice piece of jewelry.
At some point, your fear just became boredom and hassle, especially when he kept on showing you staff. At some point, what really caught your eye was a rectangular piece of wood that had previously fallen from one of the piles next to you. Covered in dust and mud, it must have seen better time, but, on the front, something was still visible: it was a piece of paper plastered with something on the wood, and, on it, three figures standing, one sitting in the center of it. The three standing figures seemed young, each of them with something to distinguish them from each other, the one sitting on a small chair wearing instead some regal robes.
"Ah, a painting...why did you keep it with you? Do you like drawing?"
The rat suddenly stopped, pointing his finger towards you and the draw.
"Me! Me and brothers! And my papa too! You found it, so good."
He seemed delighted, clapping his hands and making again those strange sounds. You, instead, cannot stop looking at the drawing confused. Him? Wait...one of them had a Chui next to him, and some traits, by using a lot of imagination, made him similar to your gaoler.
"Wait...this is you? You are him?!"
You pointed the figure, and he just...nodded, vigurusly.
"But," you continued, "how?! How it happened?! You were a man! How did you become a... Yaoguai?"
You said, avoiding using the word rat, opting to not make remarks on his looks further. 
"Master!" He just chirped "Master! He did it! Everyone rats now! Little brother left, searching for help for turning in rats...still missing...older brother...not so good...he acts violent...daddy like master! So I follow too! ....But not like, like, daddy."
"Master?...what master?"
"Sage! Wind sage!"
"Hold on, the...the yellow wind sage did this to you?" He kept on nodding; this time it was slower than before; maybe it was something that he wasn't proud of?
"Did it hurt you? I mean,. you didn't have a tail before. It was painful. I'm...sorry..." Your tone was softer this time, wondering how much pain that poor creature must have endured all this time. He seemed to be remembering his old life as a man; maybe, by having you in, he tried to recreate some old habits of him? Did you remind him of someone that he had lost? He didn't even try to eat you at all; he was just being nice.
He kept on looking at you, sensing the change in the room after this knowledge, and he just...poke you. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Was he trying to cheer you up?
"Even rat, help Daddy! Master will be back, Daddy happy, and finally Daddy will notice my work! Me protect people from tigers! Not many thanks, but still do!"
And now you felt worse! How could someone say so casually that their father doesn't give them enough credits?! He was just a big guy. Yaogaus truly were strange, from some friendly horses to a rat prince.
"I'm sorry to know that you have to endure all of this... But, you know, me and my friend, we're searching for AH!"
Trying to understand this creature, trying to get a chance to flee, and trying to not faint for fear made you forget the first reason why you were there in the first place. You rose from your spot, causing him to back away in surprise.
"The relic! The wind sage...MONKEY!"
You put down the cup; how could you stay here taking tea while your friend was somewhere pierced by who knows how many arrows?! You started to move away from there, trying not to fall from the various junk that he had put around you.
"I'm sorry! I need to leave! My friend needs me; I need to help him! I AGH!"
When he grabbed you, this time he was more scared and aprehensive, trying to stop you from your exit.
"No! You must stay! Other kill and eat, I protect and care! You too, nice! You stay!"
The fight that you left before restarted again, this time with much more vigor from you. You won't have let your friend die in that dump place!
"Put me down! I don't want to stay here with you! LET ME GO!"
His attempt to keep you in place resulted in both his giant hands holding you and trying to keep your kicking feet away from his face. He was starting to panic. Why did you have to leave?!
The struggle continued, and both of you did not notice a figure approaching fastly in your direction until you just heard a huge STOMP. The rat started to move around like a drunk man, then collapsed in a huge cloud of dust and sand. This time, you didn't have to taste the ground since two strong arms were ready to capture your fall.
"You look like you were in need of assistance, my Bián huá!"
"...Monkey!"
His furry face welcomed you once you opened your eyes from the fall with a smile and, instinctively, you launched your arms around his neck for an hug. But you remembered his wounds at the last moment.
"AH! I'm sorry! Your wounds!"
"I'm fine! See? Not a scratch!"
He showed you his chest, untouched and without trace of any wounds or arrows.
"But I saw it... Did the healing wine help you?"
"Not exactely. I've found a helping hand that...
Will let you lose your head!"
"...it's strangely specific."
He just laughed it off but regained his seriousness once he heard some moan of pain from the rat Yaogaui in front of him. He let you down, then took back his staff. 
"Wait!" He looked at you surprised. "Let's just leave him. You gave him a concussion already. I don't think he'll be a problem soon."
"All right, I don't know what happened here, but you look like you had a blast. Let's move now; more rats will come after the commotion!"
You nodded, but you still looked back at the prince with the same sorry expression from before.
"I'm sorry. It's an urgent matter. I promise to apologize better when we'll take the relic. Thank you!"
And so you and the Destined One left hand in hand the cave, noticing in a rush moment the look of pain in the prince's eyes. You wondered if the pain was for his head or something else.
@sleepingdramaqueen
@sun-jglim
@crimsonflameproxy
@everlastingmoonlightsworld
@biankanoir
@cromboloni
@miraclecherryblossomsblog
@masksandfeathers
@certifiedsimpinggalore
@cinnamonroll-anon
@justrandomlypassing
@cute-angi
@dressycobra7
@virtualexpertanchor
@szynkaaa
@sleepydang
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bbykento · 1 year
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LOSING A BET - Sub! Gojo x Dom! M. reader
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wc. 1.2k, not proofread
contents! mlm, male reader, public nudity, exhibitionism, edging, male orgasm, dirty talk, sort of praising, tummy bulging, lil bit of food play, no preps for his ass.
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He was doomed for… he lost the bet.
What bet did he lose to? Well let’s start from the top…
“Since you’re sooo confident that you can last long without me, let’s make a bet. Or are you too much of a pussy hm?” You say, a grin forms on your face.
“What is there that I can’t do?” He says cockily
“I’m sure this will challenge you.. one week without masturbating or any sort of sexual pleasure, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“What’s the catch?”
“If you lose, we’ll go on a date… while you’re butt-naked. Deal?”
“Is that one of your kinks?” he laughed.
“Maybe… Well?” you waited for his answer…
He contemplated, but then agreed later on. what could go wrong, right?
.
.
.
Fuck. this went so bad. he thought he could do it, his ego has gotten the best of him. It’s only been a day and he was already rock hard.
It’s even more painful when he didn’t have the time nor the privacy to release himself from all that tension. But not wanting to give in, he decided to endure the pain and embarrassment until the end of the bet…
Things get worse for him, after one 5 days, he couldn’t take it anymore. this. is. torture. he started to feel urges, emotions, everything… things he’s never felt before..
Just when he managed to survive the 6th day, he lost it. You wouldn’t know if he’s masturbating right? You’re away you wouldn’t know.. would you?
But when you come home early, you find him panting on the bed and an ‘eager puppy dog look’ on his face. A naked little puppy who wants nothing more than a master to fuck him…
“Finally given up?~” You say with a smirk.
He looks up to you, whimpering and nodding his head. “I know I’ve lost the bet but p-please, can’t take it a-anymore~” he whines.
You smiled at him as you approach him slowly. Like a predator hunting it’s prey. He blushes as he wraps his arms around you.
The anticipation makes him moan louder, not caring about anyone else hearing them… just as long as he gets what he wants.
His hips slowly grind on yours, massaging your cock against the cloth with each movement. “You know the consequences right?” he nods just wanting to be fucked already.
.
.
.
.
Today was the day of your date after gojo had officialy lost the bet..
As a result, gojo was fully butt-naked in the park. to his luck, there weren’t many people. you guys settled for a picnic on the grass, everything was settled.
“How do you like it being butt-naked outside?” you whisper in his ears, sending shivers to his body. “Do you like the idea of getting caught naked?” you began to tease his hard nipples.
Gojo's heart began to race as he felt the softness of your lips on his body. he had been waiting for this moment for days, ever since the bet. he had lost and now he had to face the consequences, but being with you was worth it.
He could feel your hand exploring his body, sending waves of pleasure through him. he was feeling more aroused with every second that passed. you were pushing him to the limits of his own pleasure.
“Do you like being exposed like this?” you asked him, while your hands were still exploring his body. gojo couldn't find the words to answer. he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of your hands on him. he could feel the wind against his skin. Your hands moved down and started exploring his ass. he couldn't help but moan out loud. It felt like his body was ready to explode. you were pushing him to the edge and he was loving it. you moved your hands even further down and started to massage his inner thigh. Gojo couldn't take it any longer. he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. you grabbed the honey jar and spilled some on him as you licked on it seductively.
“All fours baby.” he obeys as you slap the fats of his ass, while his back arches for more of your touches.
You spread his cheeks to see his cute, tight little asshole. he could feel the cold air, hardening his cock and nipples. you lube your cock before you enter in him slowly, teasing his ass with only your tip. you grunt, seeing the head of your cock disappearing bit by bit. you slowly move in and out, not fully inserting it.
“N-name, ahn~ M-more fuuck~” he was breathing heavily. “Please?~ Ah!-“ he was cut off by the sudden thrust.
Holy shit. It was tight and warm, you could feel him clamp down on you. not wanting you to get out. you slowly roll your hips in and out and slap his ass watching it jiggle.
“Feel so good.. mm~” you turn his head sideways to give him a messy kiss. every thrust made his eyes roll to the back of his head. fuck did it feel so good.
“H-harder!~ mm.. ngh!~”
His mind was clouded by nothing else but the feeling of your cock inside of him. your tip hits his prostrate for the hundredth time, making him arch his back and clench down.
“Fuuck-“ you grunt. he was like a cat in heat. wanting to get you deeper than you already were. with every thrust you make, you push it in even deeper. your balls slap against him making a loud sound.
“How do you like it getting fucked in public? You want them to watch me fuck your brains out?” you went even deeper. he could feel it in his fucking stomach. his legs were shaking, he was gonna collapse at any moment. your cock makes an evident bulge in his stomach when you thrust.
Your grip on his love handles were surely gonna leave a bruise. you bite down hard on his neck
“G-gonna cum~ ha..ah!” he managed to mutter. you continue on with the same pace while teasing his tip with your thumb, moving your hand up and down while fucking him.
“fuu… ‘m close baby just wait~ clench down harder could you?” as he clenches even more, your cock throbs. the pressure was building up, the lube made it so slippery and warm.
You push in really deep before finally come undone inside him, thick ropes of cum filling him up. your cock gets harder and it feels even tighter inside him as you feel it pulse.
Gojo came with you, some of his cum landing on your hand, some on the food, and the picnic mat. He pants heavily, oh was he tired. But you weren’t done yet, no where near done.
You pull out, receiving a whine from him before you immediately turn him around and thrust back into him within seconds.
“You tired baby?~ we’re not done yet.” you pull out slowly, and slammed it inside again. you lean in for a kiss, sucking his tongue and exploring all of him. no part of him was left untouched.
fuck was it so hot inside of him, your dick was sensitive but it was pleasurable. he was milking your dick so hard. his legs lock you in and pull you even closer.
The food being no longer remembered as you continued to fuck..
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Note: Hello, I hope you enjoyed! This is my first request, I’ve been trying to improve my writing style. Please feel free to give suggestions thank you 🫶
©bbykento. please don’t copy, translate, repost my works. reblogs/likes are appreciated!
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spacebarbarianweird · 9 months
Note
Astarion and maybe a werewolf tav?
Well, I knew someone will ask about it! And I had to delve into Vampire \ Werewolf relationship!
Astarion x Werewolf!Tav
Masterlist
Headcanons
TW: a mention of SA
You weren't born like that.
You were attacked at night, assaulted, raped, beaten to death, and left for your demise.
Though, you survived. Crawling back home with your clothes ripped and blood streaming down your legs.
Only to be banished by your own family, because the monster who attacked you, was a werewolf.
And now you are a monster, too.
Silver hurts you, so does fire.
Even a very slight burn hurts like nine hells.
And the transformation is painful, your body twists and your sanity fades as the monster within you unleashes.
You don't control it. You aren't born like that.
You often wake up in a human form without clothes and with flesh wounds, all covered in blood.
Reliving the same traumatic night, when you were assaulted by a monster who ripped your body and soul.
But now you are the monster.
You probably already have some monsters of your own.
The tadpole is a blessing. It can help you to control your transformation, you don't lose yourself anymore.
But you pray no one notices who you are.
Especially Astarion whose company you enjoy.
Until the day you find out he is a vampire.
You are natural enemies.
But who cares. You are both sentient beings, two monsters.
Beaten, tortured, raped, condemned.
With a history of murders.
And you don't have anyone else but each other.
When Astarion kills Cazador you wish only about one thing - to meet the person who did this to you and kill them the same way.
When tadpole is gone Astarion runs away from the sun and you immediately run for him. You search till sunset when you feel the pain.
You are a werewolf again
And you don't control the monster anymore.
You become a beast and rush to your wild hunt
The waking up is painful, you are covered in blood.
And you are tied up.
Astarion sits in the corner of the rooms and he looks at you with those eyes full of worry and hurt.
"I think I can become a monster hunter. I caught you, at least."
He tries to laugh it off but you know he feels awful. He probably had to beat the shit out of you before dragging you here.
You cry. You didn't want him to see you like that.
But he approaches yoy and hugs you as tight as possible.
Whispering sweet nonsense in your ears.
Astarion loves you. In every form.
But you know it hurts him to see your painful transformations, when your body writhes and wraps becoming some sort of ugly monstrosity.
You have an agreement. He locks you up when the time comes, he binds you before the monster takes over.
You beg him to go, but you know he never leaves your side.
You are two monsters, two victims. Bounded together by the Moon and Darkness.
One night, on a hunt for cannibal-werewolfs you smell a familiar scent.
The werewolf who did this to you. Who took your body without consent and destroyed you.
Astarion throws the monster to your feet like a dowry.
"Do whatever you want. And enjoy the process."
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
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theminecraftbee · 8 months
Text
okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--
joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--
anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.
(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)
new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.
so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)
and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.
skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.
"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."
"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"
"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"
mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.
so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.
he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--
it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.
except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.
he looks up and there's a butterfly.
"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.
"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.
"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.
"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.
"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.
it starts to fly away.
"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."
"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.
joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.
a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"
"i'm going insane," joel says.
"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"
"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."
"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."
the butterfly vanishes.
"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."
he steps through the swarm of butterflies.
that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.
this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.
they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--
"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.
"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.
"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.
"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.
joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.
(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)
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justwinginglife · 2 months
Note
May I kindly request (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)
When Hoshina was buying sweet gifts for freader which when he saw her he was about to surprise her but saw her with another guy (which in reality is her brother actually) Hoshina didn't know she had a brother but he didn't know how react to this so he ignored her until 4 weeks🙂
Hehehe get creative creative one 😁
Carried Away
When Hoshina sees you, he can't help but get carried away. He imagines what you'd look like in a pretty dress and gets the desire to buy you a dress. He thinks you'd look sexy sucking on a popsicle so he buys you ice cream. Hell- if he thought you'd look good next to the Eiffel Tower, he would probably fly you to Paris.
So when he passed by the women's jewelry section (he'd like to say on accident, but your birthday happened to be coming up and it was no accident at all), he couldn't get over the thought of you wearing a necklace with his name on it. And then he thought he'd buy you a gold bracelet set as well (he knows you're a gold girlie and not a silver girlie) and heck, he was already here, he might as well get a matching gold ring too. The man couldn't help but get caught up in spoiling you. When the lady at the register packed up his order for him and said you were a lucky girl, he told her he was the lucky one to have you.
Now he had very much planned on going home and saving his gift for your birthday, you had one month to go, but he couldn't wait to see you wearing his name around your neck so he drove straight over to your place, gifts in tow. He had just parked the car when he saw a tall man walking out of your apartment. Who was this guy and what was he doing leaving your place? He stiffened as he saw you following eagerly behind him, laughing with him and nudging his arm. Without meaning to, he began to size the guy up and compare himself to him. Did you like taller men? He was definitely more muscular than this guy, so he was fine right? He watches as you hug the man and his heart sinks as he hears you say "I love you, drive safe!"
You go back into your apartment and he slumps down in his car seat, groaning. Were you married? Were you having an affair and was he the extra man or was the other guy? Did he misunderstand his relationship with you? He feels like an idiot if he did. He starts to spiral, overthinking every conversation he's ever had with you to see if maybe he misread your feelings. Defeated, he goes back home.
The next day you look for him, but he doesn't seem to be in any of his usual spots. You think it's strange, but you shrug it off, assuming he's busy doing Vice Captain duties.
A week later, you know it's not official duties that are keeping him away from you at this point and you wonder what it could be. He won't answer your calls, he won't answer your texts, and he's never anywhere to be found on base. You ask around and he's been offering his aid to other divisions on other missions out of town. You're about ready to track him down even if it means driving to another city and dragging him back home with you, but you start to wonder if maybe you misunderstood your relationship with him. It was still new, after all. You don't want to be some clingy girlfriend who can't survive a week without him. So you leave him alone.
A month passes and it's your birthday. You haven't spoken to him at all and you miss him desperately. It kills you thinking he might not miss you. You roll over in bed, not wanting to go to work if you know he won't be there. You sigh and reach for your phone. You almost fall out of bed- he texted you. You blink and look at the screen again.
Happy Birthday.
That's it. Two words. They both make your heart melt and make your heart ache. So whatever he's mad at you for, he at least cares about you enough to wish you a happy birthday. But apparently it's not enough to come see you on your birthday.
You call in sick to work and cry yourself back to sleep. It's an hour after you were supposed to be at work and there's loud knocks at your door. You rub your tear stained eyes and go to open the door. It's him. He's here. He's holding several bags. Why's he here? Were you imagining things? You rub your eyes again.
"S-Soshiro?" You mumble sleepily.
He shifts his weight. "Yeah. Yeah it's me. Can I come in?"
You groggily move aside, shutting the door behind him as he enters your apartment.
"You get my text?"
You nod silently, still wondering why he's here.
He clears his throat uncomfortably. "I, uh, I heard you were sick. Came to check on you."
You blink. "You came to check on me all the way from the First Division? Or were you in the Second this time? Or maybe the Fourth? Where the hell have you been all month?" Your words come out angrier than you expected and you hope you can blame it on the exhaustion.
He sighs. "I know, I know, I've been gone. I just figured maybe we needed some space to figure things out."
"Space? Soshiro- we just started dating, I thought we were in our honeymoon phase and then you ghost me for a month and show up out of the blue on my birthday like you haven't been absent??" This time you do snap and you hope he can hear how bitter you are. What the hell kind of excuse did he have for this mess?
"Well I thought you wouldn't miss me!" He exclaims, throwing his hands up like it's your fault. "Not when you have other men to keep you company." He jabs.
You scoff. "Um excuse me?? What other men, Soshiro? Are you accusing me of cheating on you? Because that's real low when you're the one that's been gone."
He starts to sweat, thinking maybe he might've misunderstood the situation. "Well... well what about that guy that was at your apartment a month ago? I saw him leaving your apartment. You said you loved him."
You stare at him for a moment.
His face flushes and he looks down at the floor.
"So, not your secret husband then?"
You smack him on the head and he winces. "More like my brother. Dumbass."
He groans. "I am... so sorry."
"Is that seriously what this whole thing was about? You ignored me for a month because you thought I was secretly married to my brother?"
He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Um... yes?"
You smack his arm this time.
"Yeah okay I deserved that. But I brought you gifts? Please don't be mad at me?"
You yank the bags from his hands. "These better be damn expensive gifts- Hoshina." You enunciate his last name and he winces again at him losing first name basis with you.
You start sifting through the bags. You find jewelry, sweets, artwork, vinyls, scarves, hats, pretty much everything you've ever said you liked packed in four bags.
"Wh-what's all this?"
He laughs awkwardly. "Yeah, well. Thing is- I couldn't stop thinking about you the last month so I just bought you something every time I thought of you. Which was a lot. So. Happy Birthday."
Oh Soshiro you idiot. It was unfair how he could ignore you for a month and then say some cheesy line about how much he thought about you and you were ready to forgive him already.
"Fine. You're forgiven. But don't think you can buy your way into my heart next time. If you leave me again and run away to another division, I will drag you back here by your stupid ass bowlcut." You try your hardest to sound threatening but you can feel your heart softening already.
He smiles at you and you realize just how much you've missed seeing his smile.
"Now help me get this necklace on Soshiro."
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
OT7
The Twilight State | Freezing
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What will your place be?
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Bangtan, OT7 x Reader, cold climate, a lot of physical affection/contact, angst, romance, fluff, more warnings TBA
Length: 4.4k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
When Jungkook was nothing more than a child barely able to walk, he had already been named Unjha- a word of the old language meaning ‘Cobweb Child’.
His mother passed when he was born, his father long gone as well, leaving him with nothing but the group she used to be a part of. And due to the fact that he was never nursed, he became sickly- always causing trouble with his health, soon just named a burden to any group to ever take him with them.
He was nine when they left him one night.
But he had survived long enough to be picked up by another group- who at least brought him to the nearest town to stay at and recover some of his strength. When the people there left, he left with them as well- his journey never consistent, always with someone else until he became fourteen- and met a young man by the name of Seokjin, who had a group of his own that he was travelling with.
That’s when he found something called home.
He thrived a few years after realizing that this group was now his family- becoming the exact opposite of who he was as a child. Now strong and healthy, he’s now there wherever help is needed, and takes over any task that needs taken care of. And he’s also known as one of the kindest person around- most likely due to his past.
“There’s a fire there.” Jimin notices, pointing towards a small, orange light in the distance. “They should start moving soon.” He worries, getting Jungkook’s attention as he leans over Taehyung’s shoulder, who’s holding the reigns of the Sarril they’ve been travelling forever with. “Maybe we should check of everything’s okay?”
“Yeah, let’s see if they might need something.” Namjoon mentions from the back of the carriage, closing his book. “Remember how the last group spoke about Vrax attacking again. They might be in trouble.” He mumbles, as Taehyung steers the large animal to pull their carriage towards the little fire.
But the closer they get, the odder the scene becomes.
There’s no sign of a group at all- though Ros becomes more and more hesitant to walk any closer to the spot, most likely due to the clear signs of a fight now visible in the snow, though no blood is to be seen. “It must’ve been an attack. She’s becoming uneasy.” Taehyung offers, noticing the behavior of the Sarril now standing still, uncomfortably lowering her head as she instead scratches on the snowy grounds until her claws hit the ice.
“It’s fine like this.” Jungkook says, jumping down. “We’ll be right back.” He says after running a hand over the neck of the beast, before he and Hoseok walk towards the fire to investigate.
Jungkook almost trips over your body.
“Oh..!” He gasps out, caught off guard as Hoseok walks closer as well. “Hey.. Where's your group?” He wonders towards you, a bit quiet and almost fearful as he squats lower to move your face, and check if you’re alive at all.
You are.
“She most likely doesn’t understand.” Hoseok observes. “Look at her neck.” He points out, the thick leather collar around your neck also having the metal plate with your ID on it- the group plate that should be hanging from the front gone, only a few silver rings remaining where the tag would’ve been.
Ripped off. You’ve been thrown out.
Jungkook offers help to at least somewhat turn you over and look for any injuries. “She’s human, Kook.” Hoseok reminds him. “She’s probably dying from the cold. I’ll go ask Namjoon what we’ll do.” he offers, before leaving to get back to the group and figure out the situation.
Jungkook doesn’t know what to do.
He’s never encountered a human so closely before, has no idea what he can do to help other than run back to the carriage to get some spare blankets and string. You’re cold- so maybe warming you up could save you? He could wrap you up for now and carry you back, have you warm up inside while they figure out what to do.
Yeah, that’s a good plan. Anything but leave you here.
“Her group-tag has been removed. There’s nothing on her but her clothes and her ID on her collar. They didn’t even leave her any food or water.” Hoseok sighs, explaining the situation to the rest of the group.
"She was used as bait, in that case." Yoongi dryly explains. "Gives an explanation as to how she survived an attack. Vrax don't eat humans- but other groups use them as distraction to avert attention anyways in case they encounter them along the way." He says.
"That's horrible.." jimin whines, watching how further away at the pitiful fire, Jungkook tries to help move you. "Well, at least she got away.."
"She most likely won't survive." Namjoon hums darkly, having seen you after all. "We don't know how long she's been out here, but her state is more than worrisome." He shakes his head.
"We should at least bring her to another town-" Taehyung wonders.
"For what? So that we'll be excluded from trading because we brought another mouth to feed instead of anything valuable?" Yoongi snaps. "We can't afford that. The long night is approaching, we shouldn't be stopping in the first place.." he argues.
"I doubt he'll give her up like that." Hoseok sighs. "He seems very attached already.."
"Then he'll have to detach himself quickly." Namjoon agrees with his other friend. "We can't afford to care for her." He shakes his head.
Jungkook, meanwhile, is busy fastening some rope around the blankets he'd rolled you up in, in no way thinking about just leaving you here all by yourself. He knows what it's like to be left alone and behind just because you're considered nothing but weight- he won't be letting you feel that. You deserve a place and group just as much as he did, back then.
Your eyes are barely open as you look at him, now all bundled up in multiple blankets. "You.. probably won't understand what I'm saying, but I'll bring you to the carriage now." He tells you. You want to answer, want to tell him that you do, somewhat, understand him- but you're just too tired. You can't really even think very well- as if your thoughts are about to freeze, everything slow as he turns around and moves you onto his back to be carried towards the large carriage.
"Jungkook- do not get your hopes up with her." Yoongi tries, but Jungkook shakes his head as he lays you down where he usually sleeps.
"I'm not. I'm aware of what might happen." He says, shutting the entrance. "But she deserves to have a chance." He worries. "And even if she's too far gone, no one should die alone." Jungkook shakes his head, sitting close to you, Jimin placing another blanket over you.
"…Let's go then, for now, so we don't fall behind any further." Namjoon sighs. "We'll need all the time we can gain to bury her appropriately later." He simply informs Yoongi, who moves to sit up front with Taehyung, to control the reigns and move the carriage again.
And Jungkook watches you with worry, hoping that you won't need a burial.
Hoping that you'll stay.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
“Is that okay?” Jungkook worries, watching you sleep amongst all the blankets and pelts, rope undone by now since you don’t need to be carried anywhere anytime soon with the way they need to travel for now. Time isn’t on their side- in order to escape the long Dark a bit longer, they need to catch up a bit more distance. “She’s not eaten anything yet..”
“Humans don’t typically eat or drink when they’re severely sick.” Namjoon explains. “their metabolism slows down, as well as most bodily functions. It’s like.. they go into an emergency state, only letting the most crucial processes continue.” He mumbles while he makes sure the concoction he’s making is clear in the bottle. “She most likely won’t like the taste of this, but she’ll need to hydrate soon. But for now let her rest.” He tells the youngest of the group, who nods, while Namjoon moves to the side again to read.
He’s surprised you’ve not passed yet. If anything, you’re regaining a bit of color- your shaking having spooked most of the group pretty badly, thinking you maybe got possessed or infected with some disease- but Namjoon and Yoongi explained that it’s a normal reaction of the body to try and heat up quicker.
Now, you’re still. Only occasionally moving a little. And when your eyes open, it’s usually not for very long before you fall asleep again- so Jungkook has to wait for a chance to get some of that drink into you. It looks and smells like what he himself drinks whenever he’s not feeling well- meant to help the body in gaining enough energy to work properly.
The moment you open your eyes again for a second, he takes his chance, carefully helping you somewhat sit with all the blankets around you. “I know you’re tired but- ah, you don’t even know what I’m saying anyways..” He chuckles a bit faintly, before offering the glass bottle with the lukewarm drink Namjoon made. You accept it, though need a bit of help from his hand supporting yours as they hold the bottle to drink from it.
When Jimin enters the carriage, he smiles.
“Looks like someone’s up again.” He says, sitting down in his sleeping corner. “Namjoon’s apparently wrong. She looks a lot better already.” Jimin mentions, watching you from his spot.
“She’s still very tired, but I think she’s getting back.” Jungkook agrees. “What.. What do you think they’ll decide?” He wonders towards his friend, as you set down the bottle for now, stretching your legs for a second before you continue to drink some more. You don’t understand all of what’s said- but enough to somewhat connect the meaning of the sentences spoken.
“I’m not sure. We don’t have enough time to divert to another town- considering how far behind we already are.” He explains, before he moves to open a wooden chest he takes some clothes out of. “Yoongi told me she can wear some of his clothes for now, so she doesn’t have to stay under the blankets all the time.” Jimin says, putting them on your lap with a smile.
“So we won’t leave her again?” Jungkook wonders, when a low voice speaks up, entering the carriage as well.
“No.” Yoongi responds, boldly sitting next to you to move your face a bit to check up on you. “But she’s your responsibility.” He tells Jungkook, after leaving you alone again, making you look after him for a moment, before everyone else enters as well, ready to go to sleep most likely.
You’ve woken up already, occasionally, so you know how they all manage to sleep in here. They all kind of follow a behavior similar to penguins- sleeping closely together to share body heat. You’re always somewhat moved into the middle, currently the most vulnerable member of the group.
It shows that this group actually cares, even if they act like they don’t. Or.. Some do.
Jungkook doesn’t actually seem to mind at all that you’re now his ‘responsibility’, as he moves the blankets to help you slip into a thick sweater. “There. You look a lot more awake!” He smiles, and you nod, surprising him.
“Thank.” You say, not very fluent in his language- but he understands.
“So you do understand!” He says, and you shake your head, making a pinching motion with your fingers.
“Only bit.” You explain. “Listen- well. Speak- no.” You tell him, and Jimin chimes up at that, coming closer together with Hoseok, who’s interest got sparked as well. You know their names by now from listening in on conversations you couldn’t drown out.
“That’s amazing.” Hoseok nods. “That makes things a lot easier for us.”
“Did your past group not teach you proper language skills?” Namjoon questions, and you can hardly really make out what he means- so you shake your head after a while.
“She was a slave, not a member.” Taehyung shrugs as he takes out his blanket to get his own spot ready to sleep. “It’s not surprising.”
You tap at your collar at the mention of that, but Yoongi shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that, for now.” He simply says with very simple words so you can understand a bit better, probably aware of the fact that you want to know what your position in this group will be. “Just.. Heal. I guess.” He mumbles, before he gets his own spot ready, Jungkook smiling kindly before he helps you crawl into the middle with all your blankets, basically carrying you halfway instead when he notices your legs being still a bit shaky.
You’re not really used to sleeping in the middle of a group- but you’re starting to really enjoy it.
Especially when, despite everyone’s hesitance, Jungkook and Taehyung end up basically hugging you- even Yoongis legs touching yours beneath all the blankets.
Maybe this could become your final stay.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You’re not sure for how long you’ve slept- but it can’t have been long, considering that everyone else is still fast asleep, huddled together.
You’ve never really witnessed this whole scene- everyone still resting, cuddled together and only sometimes moving a little while they dream. It’s a serene moment, a sight you almost feel like you shouldn’t be able to see-
But there’s something off.
You sit up, slowly to not wake anyone, listening to your surroundings. The wind has picked up quite a bit, pushing against the wooden carriage every now and then, and you wonder if the group’s Sarril is holding up against the change in weather. You know they’re very resilient and can withstand much more than just some bad weather, but still, you worry. Maybe you should check?
You’re not sure why you feel such urgency.
You pick up someone’s sweater, thick fabric able to keep you warm enough for a short bit, as you pull the hood of it over your head, tying the strings to keep it from being blown off right away. And you’re surprisingly able to somehow sneak out of the cuddled up group as well without really waking anyone- they’ll most likely only notice once your spot becomes colder.
So you have to hurry to not alarm anyone.
Quickly opening the back door and tarp, you jump down and almost tumble to your knees- having underestimated the height of it all by quite a bit. Their kind is way taller than humans after all, so it shouldn’t be surprising- but you’re lucky down the line, not having hurt yourself in your little fall.
You walk towards the front where the Sarril is curled up but curiously lifting her head to look at you coming closer, in no distress. Snow is piling up against her big body, but her wooly sheep-like coat shields her from the freezing temperatures. You reach out to pet her-
When you notice it.
She must’ve accidentally pulled the reigns down and gotten her back pair of legs tangled- unable to move without shaking the entire carriage. It wasn’t the wind that was moving the thing- it was her, in an effort to get free. “Let’s see..” you mumble to yourself, before you carefully assess the situation, slowly untainted the leather reigns to not startle her.
A Kick from those thick, clawed hooves could be deadly after all, even if it’s not her intention.
“What are you doing?” a menacing voice asks you, one you’ve come to connect with Yoongi- bit you’re too close to freeing her to answer him right away, as you hear him get closer. He looks over your shoulder to observe your hands gently pulling the reigns away now, his own on your shoulder to pull you away if you were doing something bad-
But suddenly the Sarril is stretching her legs almost in satisfaction, flute-like sound emitting from her throat before she nods her head, happily turning towards you as if to offer her thanks. It’s clumsy, the fact that she doesn’t know that she’s much bigger and stronger than you almost ending in pushing you over, but you instead accept the gesture, while Yoongi watches.
“How did you know?” yoongi demands to know, watching you pet her, your hands already red from the cold.
“Uh..” you point at the carriage. “shake. Weird.” You mention, pointing to your stomach. “weird.. feel. Emotion.” You try and explain, searching for the right word. “Instinct?” You say, and he watches you, before he nods, understanding.
“hm. Thanks.” He mumbles, before he helps you up and pats off the snow from your clothes. “now come back. You caused worry.” He huffs, helping you back into the carriage where both Jungkook and a sleepy Jimin exhale in relief almost at seeing you again.
“where was she?” hoseok asks, yawning while Namjoon simply moves the blankets to welcome you back beneath, without any words.
“outside. Ros had somehow gotten her legs tangled in the reigns.” Yoongi explains while Jungkook helps you back next to him where he eagerly moves the blankets back over you to warm you up again. “She said she.. felt weird? That’s how she noticed.”
“Humans call it a gut feeling.” Namjoon yawns. “though.. it doesn’t have anything to do with their intestines..” he mumbles, laying back down while Taehyung looks at you.
“thank you.” He offers, and you nod. “I must’ve not put the reigns up properly..” he tells himself mostly, before he too lays back down to resume his rest.
And as you now find yourself back in the warmth of the group, knowing that the loyal animal outside is well too, you can finally find some sleep as well.
Dreaming of nothing but snow and winds.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You’re sitting next to Taehyung and Jungkook up front, dressed in clothes not your size, but somewhat adjusted with strings Jimin had helped tie in some places. Jungkook checks in with you often to make sure that you’re not too cold- but you don’t want to just be uselessly existing around.
The next small outpost is up ahead. They all seem oddly eager to get there- as if something’s or someone is waiting for them there.
Time is tough to calculate. You’re not sure why you can’t just exist like the rest of them with no feel for it- time doesn’t really matter to them as much as it does to you. But that’s because they all grew up without focusing on it too much- you didn’t. “we need to buy her some proper attire.” Yoongi mumbles walking next to the Sarril moving the carriage.
Jungkook smiles a bit impishly. He’s aware that the grumpy looking friend must’ve changed his mind about you.
“An outpost would be a bad place to leave her- you’re right.” Namjoon agrees from the other side, reminding him that not all share the same views however. Namjoon still clearly does not have you in mind as a permanent part of the group- and he can somewhat understand it. A bigger group is safer, after all- but it’s also harder to feed.
But that doesn’t mean he agrees with him.
The moment you arrive at the camp, you spot someone familiar- someone the group walks towards as well, before they hug him. “where did you find her?” he wants to know, disbelief clear in his face and voice as he looks at you standing amongst his group.
“She was left by a fireplace.” Yoongi informs his friend. “do you know her, Jin?”
“not personally, but fleetingly.” He offers, before he walks closer to you. “they said you got killed during an attack?” He questions you, but you shake your head.
“She was injured- but very mildly. She was mostly freezing.” Namjoon explains. “But she recovered, much to my surprise.” He adds, watching how his older friend kindly runs a hand over your head, a common gesture for older members of a group to greet the younger ones.
“I’m glad you made it then.” Seokjin tells you, and you smile, with Jungkook right behind you now. “I assume you must be happy to finally not be the youngest anymore? After all I can sense she’s not quite the same age as you.” He jokes, making Jungkook instantly look over to Namjoon.
“She’s not part of the group.” Namjoon states, though his tone is a lot softer than when he’d say that before. “We’re simply.. Trying to find a place for her to stay.”
“Oh, I see.” Seokjin nods. “Well, until we find that place, I will still treat her as part of the group.” He almost teasingly states, before taking your hand in his. “So, I shall find my groupmate something proper to eat.” He smiles charmingly, before he walks off with you towards the several fires and people making and selling food. “He will warm up. Don’t worry.” Jin tells you more quietly now that he’s with you alone, the rest of the group having held back Jungkook to instead help lift some heavy crates of food rations.
“It’s fine.” You reassure, slipping on the icy frozen puddles here and there- though Jin’s hand on your back always steadies you, while also being unable to not laugh at your clumsiness. “Why.. You, here?” You ask, and he nods to himself.
“I was visiting relatives.” He explains. “But I will return to You and the others from today on. Maybe I can help you soften up the tough shell of some of the groupmembers.” He jokes, and you smile, nodding.
You really want to stay with them- so hopefully, Seokjin can help you achieve that.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
“She sure has an appetite.” Yoongi mumbles, as he sits down next to Jungkook who’s just dug into his own second serving of soup, while you still spoon yours into your mouth.
“Thats good, isn’t it?” Jungkook chirps happily. “shows she’s healthy.” He says, looking at you- who nods, before eating more slowly. Jungkook frowns a bit at that, though understands that you might’ve misunderstood what little you could translate for yourself. “you can eat well here! Since Jin’s family stays here, we eat in exchange for less money.” He tries to explain it in easier words, and you nod.
Still, you feel a bit odd about it. What if they don’t take you with them? You don’t want to just.. use their money just to end up not actually offering anything in return. There has to be something you can do for them as well.
“its getting cold.” Yoongis voice is heard, and you look up at that, noticing he means your food- and you nod obediently, returning to your meal. “I feel like she might need a task.” He says, and you look up at that, before you nod eagerly.
“Huh? No, she doesn’t-“ Jungkook wonders, before Yoongi shakes his head.
“She does. Everyone in a group has a task.” He says, and at that, Seokjin joins you at the table.
“How about she keeps the carriage organized and tidy?” He offers, sitting next to you. “She could help put away the blankets after we sleep, or keep track of all the things we carry around. It would certainly take some weight off of my shoulders, and Namjoon wouldn’t have to be scolded for his messy habits every time we forget or misplace something.” He chuckles, Jungkook laughing as well.
“I agree with that idea.” Yoongi nods. “do you?” He asks you, and you think for a second, before you realize what he’s asking. So you nod- of course you can take on that job!
“we shouldn’t give her a task just yet.” Namjoon intervenes, sitting down next to Yoongi while the other’s also join in at the table with their food. “That’s up to her future group, not us.”
Everyone’s silent at that- understanding, but there’s also a slight wave of disappointment going around, especially when looking at Jungkook- who suddenly boldly so, gets up as he notices you’ve finished eating. “come- you must be tired. I’ll show you how to make a proper sleeping place.” He offers, as he helps you off the bench. But surprisingly, Yoongi also gets up- making Namjoon look at him with question.
“Someone’s gotta stand watch over them.” He simply says as a poor excuse, following you and Jungkook back to the carriage.
You’re surprised to see Taehyung following as well, the tall alien not having interacted with you much- but his interest is certainly caught at the sight of the most quiet member of the group visibly growing attached to you. Jungkooks behaviour is understandable after all- his childhood having shaped him into someone who aims to help whomever he can. And he most likely sees a bit of himself in you.
But Yoongi? That’s certainly new.
Yoongi has always been easy to talk to, and he himself is someone who can talk anyone into anything it seems like- but he’s only ever been loyal to his own group, and never interested in anyone in such nature that he’s now clearly portraying. To anyone else, he might not have changed much- but Taehyung notices the difference in how he carefully helps you into the carriage, making sure Jungkook has a good hold on your hands before he lets go of your legs. Only once you’re in does he get in himself- and once they all find themselves in their ‘home’ again, he’s already ‘showing off’; making a proper sleeping spot for you, as an example to follow once you’ve memorized it.
It’s really not necessary, technically. You’re human, yes, but even humans know how to prepare a nest, somewhat.
But Taehyung watches, amused, how the both of them basically bury you beneath blankets before getting underneath them as well, ready to sleep even though they’re not tired. You definitely are- as a creature who usually needs at least eight hours of rest, you’re a lot less active than they are on average. They only need three or four, maybe a nap here and there- but it’ll be fine.
Because with the way you’re basically shielded from the outside world by Yoongi and Jungkook, Taehyung is sure you’re already part of the group.
And soon, Namjoon will realize that too.
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