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lorna-d-m · 6 months

Text

Gingerbread

Word Count: 4,870

Rating: E

Warning: wine drinking, swearing, breast play, some dry humping

Author's Note: happy thanksgiving! Now that it's passed I can officially say: Merry Christmas y'all! Timeline wise, this takes place between chapters six and seven.

Alice missed the days of elementary school when the last day before winter break was reserved for nostalgic movies, hot chocolate, and wearing your pajamas to school. Instead, students completed their end-of-term exams. Instead of relaxing, kicking up her feet and putting on a movie, she graded first periods’ exams during second, and so on and so on. Those who finished before the end of the period could read or study for another exam.

Stevie approached her desk, and she looked up assuming he had a question about the exam. Instead, he handed her a small envelope and whispered so quietly she could hardly hear him, “Merry Christmas, Ms. Greene”. Stevie turned on his heels and returned to his desk.

Curiosity piqued, Alice examined the envelope. She would recognize Stevie’s handwriting, so she assumed it must be Laszlo who scrawled her name on the front of the envelope. Alice noted the fancy stationery: the thick off-white envelope with a red wax seal.

It was a simple but elegant Christmas card depicting a winter scene. Before she read it, she looked at the gift card tucked inside. It was for her favorite coffee chain and $15, plenty for two drinks or a drink and a snack. Inside the card, Laszlo wrote a brief thank you, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays. He signed, as well as Stevie.

Stevie watched her open the card. Not wanting to distract any students or draw too much attention, Alice mouthed thank you to him. She wondered if any other of Stevie’s teachers received a card. When she checked her phone at lunch, Bits answered her question.

Nice Christmas gifts from the good doc 🎄🎁 I’m assuming you’ll get more than a card from him? 😏😉

Alice chuckled, knowing all the innuendos Bitsy meant with a simple wink and smirk emoji combination. They made plans for Saturday when Stevie was supposed to be hanging out at a friend’s house.

Oh hush you 🤫A lady doesn’t kiss and tell

She went back to grading, worrying if the gifts she bought him were enough. Saying he was difficult to shop for felt like a lame excuse, but Alice couldn’t think of anything else to get him. Unless… well she supposed it was more of a purchase for her, but he would certainly appreciate it.

Laszlo deliberated for two days about what to cook for dinner. It was not his first time cooking for Alice, but it was his first time in his kitchen amongst all his tools and familiarity. The expectations were higher. He wanted to do something delicious for her, showing her how much he cared for her. Once decided, he went to the markets in the morning. It was his guilty pleasure. Laszlo enjoyed carefully perusing all his options and leisurely strolling around. He could never stick to a list; he always bought things he didn’t need but decided at the moment he wanted.

He returned, carefully holding a brown paper grocery bag to his chest. Stevie stood over the stove, cooking a late-morning breakfast of eggs and toast. Laszlo had to tease him as he slipped into a winter break sleep schedule.

“Good morning. Any later and I would tell you good afternoon.”

“Ha ha,” Stevie laughed dryly. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

Laszlo unpacked his groceries and handed a party-size bag of chips to Stevie. “For tonight,” Laszlo thought it rude to go to someone’s house emptyhanded. “Do you need a ride or is Jake picking you up?”

“He said he’d pick me up at like four, and then…” Stevie trailed off, but Laszlo waited expectedly. “I was going to ask you how late I could stay.”

Curfew was, Laszlo didn’t like to call it a debate, but a matter of discussion. On school nights Laszlo stuck to 9:30, wanting Stevie home at a reasonable time. On weekends, however, he was more flexible. So long as Stevie was transparent about his plans, telling him where he wanted to go and who he would be with, Laszlo was willing to adjust the time.

Laszlo trusted Stevie and he had yet to disappoint him, but for emergencies and peace of mind, they had each other’s location shared on their phones. It went both ways, Laszlo could see if Stevie was at school, home, or a friend’s house, and Stevie could see if he was at the university, the Institute, the police station, or the courts. As a show of faith, Laszlo told him he would only check if he had a legitimate concern or cause. He had yet to check, knock on wood.

And of course, if Laszlo coincidentally had plans with Alice the same night, then perhaps Stevie could stay with his friends a bit longer.

“That depends,” Laszlo huffed a sigh in thought, “Will he be dropping you off, or will I pick you up?”

Stevie didn’t bother to plate his food or sit at the table. He stood at the counter, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a piece of sourdough toast with his wooden spoon. At least he didn’t create many dishes… Stevie answered with a mouthful, “He can drop me off.”

Perfect. “How does eleven sound then? Take it as an early Christmas present.” Then Laszlo could enjoy more time with Alice. “And text me when you’re on your way back.” That way they had a reminder when she needed to leave.

“Thanks!” Stevie was a quick eater, a result of his childhood, and already he finished his breakfast. After cleaning the few dishes he used, he went back to his room.

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line in focus. It was an unconscious habit as she piped details on gingerbread cookies in royal icing: delicate buttons to the little men, twinkling lights on the trees, and fine lines on the snowflakes. Flour and icing smeared her cheek and dusted her clothes, and she was sweating from the residual heat of the oven.

The timer on her phone startled her, making her smear the line of the snowflake. She cursed and set the cookie aside. Alice didn’t want to give Laszlo an ugly cookie. And, she sighed while brushing away an errant lock of hair, she didn’t want to look like an ugly cookie either. The timer reminded her to step back and start getting ready.

After hearing Laszlo had no Christmas plans, other than little celebrations with Stevie since John and Sara were on a much-needed vacation, Alice wanted to make sure their night was perfect. She debated what to wear, settling on a red low-cut sweater and a tight skirt. Classic, but enticing, and she could show off one of her gifts for Laszlo.

***

Alice parked on the street and waited in her toasty car. It was her first time visiting Laszlo’s house. She pulled out her phone, and rather than text Laszlo that she arrived, she typed a message for Bitsy.

Oh shit. He’s rich rich 💰

Bitsy responded quickly. oh??? 👀👀That’s good because you need to marry rich you’re a teacher

She took a picture of the front of the brownstone house and sent it. That should tell Bitsy all she needed to know. Then, she texted Laszlo that she had arrived. Taking a deep breath in, she left the coziness of her car and braved the cold night air.

The front door was off street level; it was up a set of stairs. Alice was careful, her hand gliding over the railing as she ascended them. The last thing she wanted was to slip on icy steps: embarrassing herself and ruining her hard work that afternoon or Laszlo’s gifts. Before she could knock on the old brass knocker or ring the decorative doorbell, Laszlo opened the door.

He radiated warmth, and not just because of the heat escaping the house. Laszlo wore a white apron over his clothes, a lock of hair fell across his forehead, his sleeve was rolled up, and he smelled like the delicious food he cooked. It made Alice’s stomach growl and her heart flutter.

“Please, come in. You can put your coat there,” he gestured to a coat rack in the corner of the vestibule and took the platter of cookies from her hands, “and I can take these to the kitchen.”

He had a vestibule and a foyer beyond that. Alice knew he had money, but she did not realize how much until she saw his home. She shed her coat, and she caught Laszlo’s eyes appreciating the neckline of her sweater just as she intended.

“I’m afraid I haven’t quite finished, but please, feel free to wait in the parlor and nibble on the cheese board while I return downstairs.”

“Your kitchen is downstairs?” Alice almost asked “you have a parlor?” but that was a less pressing matter.

Laszlo chuckled. “Yes, it’s an old house, so the garage, kitchen, and ironically Stevie’s room are all street level. I promise I won’t be long.”

“Good,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m hungry and I’ll miss you.”

His cheeks flushed, and he kissed her properly. “Then I won’t keep you waiting.” He disappeared down the stairs, readjusting the apron tied around his waist. Alice admired his ass as he left.

Alice did as Laszlo suggested and wandered to the parlor. She nibbled on a cracker with brie and thinly sliced apple while she surveyed the room. A heavy, ornate fireplace warmed the room, and she relished its heat. Her sweater and skirt did little to keep her warm. Alice noticed there were no pictures on the mantle, just a television mounted on the wall. It was one of the fancy ones disguised as a landscape painting, complete with a gilded frame.

Two bookshelves bookended the fireplace, and Alice skimmed through the titles. Some she recognized, like classic novels, whereas the psychological essays and journals were far from her realm of familiarity. Where did he find the time to read, she mused. A record player nestled in the corner, made to look like a vintage gramophone, filled the room with traditional Christmas music. Alice hummed along to the familiar song. Laszlo was a maximalist, filling his home with as much as he could in his eclectic style.

Alice heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so she went to the formal dining room. As she wondered how often Laszlo and Stevie ate there, he answered her silent question.

“We rarely use it, but I wanted tonight to be special.”

“Please, let me help you,” she offered. Laszlo held a heavy tray laden with plates and bowls with one hand.

“There’s no need,” he insisted, setting it on the table. “It’s part of why we don’t use the dining room very often.”

“I can imagine, but it looks lovely, Laszlo.” He dressed up the space with formal dinnerware and linens. He lit a candelabra on the table, and pitchers of water and bottles of wine waited to be poured.

“Thank you.” He blushed again, clearly unused to praise. Alice wanted to make the tinge of pink darker.

“You’ve put in so much effort, and I appreciate it. You’ve made tonight special and memorable, and we’ve barely begun.”

Laszlo returned downstairs for the rest of the meal, and Alice stole a glance at what he brought up already. A basket of dinner rolls, small bowls of soup, and salads. This was meant to be the appetizer, and she wondered eagerly what the main course could be. With perfect timing, he brought the entrée: roasted vegetables, seared duck breast with a red wine sauce, and creamy mashed potatoes.

Once everything was settled on the table, Laszlo could settle himself. He removed his apron revealing a white button-up and a Christmas-themed waistcoat: dark green with white detailing and gold buttons. Laszlo pulled out her seat for her, and then he poured them both a glass of water and a glass of red wine.

“Please, enjoy. There’s plenty.” He offered her the basket of warm dinner rolls glistening with butter.

Laszlo was an excellent cook, and she was excited to try it. He waited until she tasted it and smiled before he ate anything.

Over dinner, they reminisced on past Christmases: best presents, worst presents, family drama, vacations. Alice thought long and hard about the best present she ever received and decided it must have been when she got a Barbie dreamhouse. She knew what it was as soon as she saw the gigantic wrapped box by the tree, but her parents made her wait until the end to unwrap it. Laszlo smiled saying he had something similar happen when his parents bought the baby grand piano for the parlor.

“Do you play?” She noticed it, but the keys were covered and the music books were nowhere in sight. If he did, he left no clues.

“No,” he frowned, “not since I was a young boy.”

Alice didn’t want to upset him, so she did not press it. She found it odd since he was the one who mentioned the piano, to begin with, but this was a happy night. From then on, Laszlo was more inclined to listen to her than share his memories.

Alice insisted upon helping him clean up after the meal, and Laszlo found it hard to refuse her. He enjoyed simply being near her, and he admitted it was easier with an extra set of hands. Laszlo rinsed the dishes from dinner while Alice unloaded the dishwasher.

“I wasn’t sure about making Christmas cookies,” Alice confessed.

Laszlo raised an eyebrow in playful alarm. “Why ever not? Your cookies are delectable.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m a one trick pony. You’ve had my cookies before at open house and the conferences, so I thought I should show you something new.”

“But they’re delicious, and I presume gingerbread to fit the season. I’ve not tasted those.”

“Which is why I went with it. You can really only do gingerbread this time of year. But I think next time, I’ll make something totally different.”

“I look forward to it.” Since his hands were covered with soapy water, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Speaking of dessert, do you want it now or do you want to wait?”

Alice smirked. “Well, if dessert is a real kiss, I want it now.”

How could he refuse? Laszlo kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Alice pinned him against the counter, and since her hands were dry she ran them through his hair and rested them at the back of his neck. Laszlo leaned into her touch.

Abruptly, Alice ended their kiss. She stayed close to him, pressed to him. “But if dessert is the cookies, they can wait until we’re watching a movie on the couch.” Laszlo hardly understood what she said. He was too distracted by the way Alice kissed him. She giggled, clearly amused by his love-drunk expression, and smiled. “Come on,” she teased, “let’s finish this up.” Laszlo did not need any more encouragement.

***

They set out all their gifts on the coffee table along with the platter of cookies and two mugs of hot chocolate. Laszlo insisted on preparing it for them, his recipe using dark chocolate and rich milk to create the most decadent drink. Stevie preferred the instant Swiss Miss powder, no doubt due to his unrefined palette, and Alice surprised Laszlo by asking for a sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg. Curious, he had to try it for himself.

Alice shivered once on the couch, so Laszlo found the red knit blanket he kept in the living room and draped it over her shoulders. She looked comfortable like she belonged there.

“Can I go first?” Alice volunteered, “My gifts for you require a little bit of explanation.”

“Well now you must. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

She handed him one slim box, one wrapped present that could only be a book by its shape and size, and a flat, rectangular box. All were wrapped in delicate blue and white snowflake wrapping paper and finished with silver bows. Laszlo reached for the smallest box first. He tore the paper at the tape and lifted the lid from the box. It was a black and gold fountain pen, weighted in his hand.

“It’s supposed to be smear proof. All the reviews said it was left hand certified.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” He reached for the book next, sliding his thumb under the edge of the wrapping paper. It was a well-read, well-loved paperback copy of her favorite book. Laszlo glanced at her before skimming through the pages.

“We talked about books before, and how a person’s favorite book can tell you a lot about them, so I thought I would give you my favorite filled with all my thoughts and annotations.” It was a deeply personable gift. Laszlo was shocked, and he immediately tried to give it back to her. “I already bought myself another copy, please, keep it.”

The final present was a rich golden-colored cable knit sweater. Laszlo held it up, modeling what it would look like, and he saw her eyes light up. He would have to wear more gold…

“I had to guess your size, so I put the receipt in the box in case you need to return it or exchange it. But I thought the gold would suit you, and I see I was right.”

“Thank you, darling.” He kissed her cheek again. Laszlo enjoyed seeing her cheeks flush whenever he did. “It’s all so thoughtful.”

“Technically,” Alice said with a sly grin, “there’s one more gift, but you’ll have to wait to unwrap it.”

“Oh?” Laszlo checked the coffee table wondering how he missed it. Alice nodded, removed the blanket from her shoulders, and sat up straight, pushing her plentiful chest out. “Oh!”

Intentionally, her sweater slipped off her shoulder exposing a touch of lace. His eyes followed the movement. “It’s more of an investment, I think, but mutually beneficial.”

“Certainly,” he agreed, unconsciously licking his lips.

“But not yet.” Alice fixed her sweater and re-wrapped the blanket. Laszlo blinked twice, refocusing on the moment. She knew how to tease him, draw him in, and turn his head all around. It was maddening and enthralling. He thought carefully about the order in which to give his gifts to her. Start small.

“The poinsettias on the table are yours to keep, so long as you keep them away from Georgie. I read they’re not good for cats, so put them somewhere high and out of reach for him.”

“They’re gorgeous, Laszlo, and I appreciate the research. All the other flowers you’ve given me have been Georgie safe, so I’ll have to find somewhere special for these.”

Next was a little gift bag filled with imported German chocolates, the best in his opinion, and cat treats for Georgie. Treats for both of them, he explained, with a sheepish smile at the pun. These were all small gifts, trivial really, but they all brought a smile to her face. It was time to step it up. He handed her a slim, unmarked envelope with two tickets to the Nutcracker, on Christmas Eve no less.

Alice’s eyes glittered. “I thought this had been sold out for months! How did you get these?”

“I have a box, so I get the first pick of any tickets…” he trailed off. He always bought at least two tickets. In years past, he would take John, Stevie, or John and Sara and play the third wheel. This year, Laszlo would have a date.

“Fuck off,” Alice said indelicately, but still alluringly to him. “You have a box?”

“I do,” he snickered, “It was my family’s before it became mine.”

“That’s incredible.” She still held the tickets in her hand, looking them over and over. His eyes met hers, a silent question. What are you thinking? “Honestly, I’m trying to think if I have an outfit worthy of this.”

“Whatever you wear, I’m sure it will be divine, and I hope you pair it with this.” He slid his final present over to her: a small jewelry box.

Tentatively, she set the tickets down and picked up the box. It wasn’t wrapped; Laszlo thought the black velvet spoke for itself. Now he feared it was too much too soon. Jewelry set certain expectations. It announced intention.

“Oh, Laszlo.” Her thumb rubbed along the edge of the box, and she tilted the necklace and earrings toward the light. “It’s- I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” Alice’s wide eyes met his, and he thought he saw the shadow of a tear.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” The troublesome tear slipped down her cheek when he asked, and more threatened to follow. Given the nature of his work, Laszlo was accustomed to tears, but he did not know what to do when Alice cried.

“You’ve done so much and given me such wonderful gifts,” she tried to steady her voice but was unsuccessful, “and I’m worried I didn’t do enough.”

“Don’t say that,” he rushed to assure her. In the unspoken silence, Laszlo sensed her true fear was that she wasn’t enough. He struggled for words, so he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “You have given me plenty.”

Alice smiled, tears still in her eyes, and nodded to herself. “Thank you, Laszlo, just-” she paused again, registering her hand in his, “Thank you.”

After Alice dried her tears, embarrassed she cried but comforted by Laszlo’s words, they dimmed the lights and turned on a movie. All playful bickering about what to watch stopped when Alice spotted an old stop-motion classic about the year without Santa Claus. She had not seen it in years, but she vividly remembered the song with heat miser and snow miser. Laszlo chuckled and indulged her, selecting the movie and letting the opening credits play.

She cuddled up next to Laszlo, his arm across her shoulders, and she shared her blanket with him. Alice leaned her head on his chest, and he rested his chin at the top of her head. She was comforted by his slow and steady breathing. Laszlo was a rock: steady and reliable under her.

Both their hands wandered, appreciative and lingering touches, until the movie was forgotten and Laszlo encouraged her to sit on his lap. Alice hesitated, biting her tongue at a quip about being more than he could handle, but he was insistent and unflinching. She straddled his lap, her already short skirt rising up even further, teasing him with the tops of her thighs.

“There you are,” Laszlo crooned. He looked less perfect and more like a person. Toussled hair, pink cheeks, sly smile. Alice adored him like this. His hand circled her waist and pulled her closer, eliminating any space between them. His kiss tasted of their drink, rich chocolate with a touch of spice. Alice melted into his touch. Laszlo panted, whining into her mouth as he felt her chest pressing against him.

His hand slipped under the knit of her red sweater and traced the skin underneath. His fingers danced over the clasp of her new bra, her gift just for him to unwrap, asking her permission before advancing any further. She broke their kiss and nodded, a quiet “I want this” escaping her lips. Laszlo needed no more encouragement, and he deftly undid the clasp. She pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples pebbled in the sudden chill, and Laszlo was quick to latch himself to her.

He took one into his mouth, lavishing it with attention, while he cupped her other breast with his hand. Laszlo did not want it to feel unappreciated as he nipped, licked, and pinched. Alice moaned his name and wriggled her hips against him, craving more in the heady heat of the moment. “I want to see you,” she huffed.

Laszlo paused and drew back. A trail of saliva connected them, and Alice brushed it away with her thumb. “I’m all yours,” he murmured.

Alice hastily unfastened the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt, cursing him for wearing so many layers, but grateful for them too. Laszlo looked good in his layers, coordinated and well-put-together, but she wanted to see underneath his careful clothing choices. Alice feasted her eyes on a broad chest, dusted with coarse hair and fine freckles, leading down to his soft stomach. Laszlo tipped his head back and groaned when she trailed her hand down his chest.

“Much better.” Pleased, Alice touched Laszlo’s chin and brought his attention back. His eyes were hazy, as if he’d drunk more than a glass of wine, as he studied her form. Laszlo ran an appreciative hand across her body: cupping her breast, holding her waist, and resting on her ass. He kissed her again, his lips wandering from her lips to her jaw, and her collarbone.

“Laszlo, I-” His phone, forgotten on the coffee table, rang and interrupted her. She turned, glancing at the caller ID, and handed it to him. “It’s Stevie, he’s probably on his way home.”

Laszlo answered and held the phone to his ear. Alice was somewhat relieved he called. She wasn’t sure how much further they were going to go, and she was nervous to broach the topic. This was a natural end to the evening. When she went to move off his lap, he held her there with his right hand. Not firmly, but the surprising and warm touch was enough to keep her there. She slipped her hand over his.

Alice waited until he hung up to speak. “I think it’s time for me to go, Las.”

“Please, darling, five more minutes.” His hips ground against hers, and his voice was as enticingly sweet as honey.

“Five minutes, my final Christmas present for you,” she teased.

His lips reattached to hers, and his hand groped her breast. Her hips continued above him, and Laszlo followed every one of her movements.

Hindered by Laszlo’s request, but hastened by his assistance to redress, Alice left without issue. She promised to text him when she arrived home safe and sound, and he reminded her what time they would leave for the Nutcracker. Laszlo waited for Stevie to return in the kitchen, hoping to ask about his evening before locking the front door and going to bed.

“Hey,” Stevie entered through the more hidden ground-level door that connected through the garage. He preferred the direct access rather than messing with the front door. It was part of why he chose to live downstairs.

“How was it?”

“Good,” he shrugged, “Caleb got a new game for us to play, so it took a while to figure out the rules, but it was fun.”

“Did they enjoy the chips?”

“Yeah, yeah, they did.” Stevie glanced at the sink, empty apart from two mugs of hot chocolate. “How was your evening?”

One mug was still smeared with lipstick, and panic shot through Laszlo. Did he have any of her lipstick on his face? He wished he checked a mirror instead of presuming he looked okay. Laszlo flustered, thinking on the spot.

“Fine. Some people from the psychology department came over for dinner, part of a new tradition they’re trying to start.”

Stevie poured himself a glass of water and stood in front of the fridge. “That’s cool. Any leftovers? ”

“What? They didn’t feed you over there?” Laszlo chuckled, relieved by the change in subject.

“They did, but I’m still hungry. Growing boy and all.” Stevie ate a dinner roll without bothering to microwave it.

Laszlo rolled his eyes. Ah, the youth. “Goodnight, and don’t forget to lock up.”

“Already did.”

Laszlo meant it when he said, “Good kid.”

***

Two days later, Laszlo picked Alice up from her apartment with a bouquet of pale pink roses. She wore a simple, elegant black dress and shawl. Underneath her silver shawl, Laszlo spotted the simple necklace he gave her and more than one purple hickey. He felt a sense of satisfaction seeing his work.

They arrived early to the theater and worked slowly through the crowds. People acknowledged him — former clients or students — and he stopped for a moment to chat with some of them. His chest puffed up with pride, talking to them with a woman as wonderful as Alice on his arm. She shimmered under the chandeliers.

Finally, Laszlo brought her to his box on the upper level. Alice whispered in his ear she always wondered what the view from the boxes was like rather than general admission. Laszlo promised to take her to more shows in the coming year. They enjoyed the show, her hand clasped in his, and her shawl slipping off her shoulders.

Laszlo asked if she was hungry, too, when they left the theater. Sheepishly, Alice confessed she was. He swung by a fast-food joint, one of the only things open at the late hour on Christmas Eve, and ordered fries and milkshakes. After their midnight snack, they made out like teenagers in the front seat. It was a complete contrast to the formality of their evening, but it was the perfect way to end the night.

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33 notes · View notes

pastelsandpining · 2 years

Note

Prompt time! 😎😎

Post-Calamity. Link has a pre-Calamity memory on a sunny day and confesses it to Zelda who had had no idea whatsoever. Apparently, there are still surprises to learn about her old Knight Attendant. 🤫 This can be humorous, scandalous, angsty etc… the choice is yours!

Rating totally your call. 😋

Have fun and LET’S GET YOU TO 300 PASTELS!♥️

I RISE

this is. it's a Fic alright! a little less of a memory and more of a present thing but!! it's fiiiiine

this idea definitely did not change mid writing,,,ahahaha,,,,,

memory

Masterlist | Small Drabbles

----------

“Link…?”

He was quiet. Eerily quiet. He was just across the table from her, his eyes fixed on a point above her head, but he wasn’t seeing. Not really. It had been three years since the defeat of the Calamity; three years since she’d been freed from that malice prison and reunited with the boy that had given his life for her. He wasn’t a boy anymore, though–and she wasn’t a girl. They’d grown up quickly in their days prior to the Calamity because they had to, but even without the weight of the world on their shoulders, there was no getting back what they had lost.

Three years of relearning each other. Three years of new companionship and new lives; three years into a fresh start for both of them. She’d learned what looks like that meant: far away gaze, stunned silence. It scared her at first, because when Hyrule’s Hero froze like he’d been possessed, well, it would unsettle anyone. He was remembering something, or so she was hoping, because the alternative was…worse. Much worse.

A little self-consciously, Zelda raised a hand to press against her stomach.

“Link?” she tried again, reaching across the table with her free hand to take and squeeze his. He moved, then, drawing his blue eyes back to her.

“I’ve heard those words before,” he said, and though she figured it wasn’t at all in the way she was thinking, it still felt like a slap in the face. “My… my mother– I was young. Eight, maybe? She sat me down, just like this, and she…” His brows furrowed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “She told me I was going to be a brother. That I was going to have a sister.”

It wasn’t often that Link spoke of his family. A fractured memory meant it was a touchy subject; he didn’t remember as much of them as he should, and Zelda knew that thought tore him apart on a daily basis. He felt guilty over it, like he felt over plenty that he couldn’t control. She’d never met his family. She knew his father was some skilled knight in her father’s guard, but she’d never known his mother or his sister. She didn’t even know he had a sister.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, offering his hand another squeeze. He was holding onto hers like it was a lifeline, and he was trembling. She could feel the sweat pooling against her palm–sweat that wasn’t hers.

“I… I miss them,” he said, dropping his gaze to the wooden top of the table between them.

“Tell me about them,” Zelda offered and leaned a bit forwards in her seat. How odd it felt to change the topic of conversation so abruptly, especially from something so serious, but he needed her right now.

Link’s brows twitched, like he was searching that beautiful brain of his for any other memory he could dig up. She could not imagine how hard it must’ve been.

“My father… He would always…bring home gifts for my mother, and he always made sure to play with us. We were happy, I think.” Happy. Happy before Link pulled the sword and disrupted their little family with the idea that he had to leave and become a knight; leave and prepare to face the one threat that wanted to rip the kingdom apart. He raked a hand through his hair and she wished she could offer more comfort to him than just a squeeze of the hand. She swallowed thickly, trying to suppress her own fears for the sake of his.

“They sound lovely,” she told him, giving a small, strained smile.

“Watching them…my parents, how they always seemed so…” He paused, searching. “...in love. I used to want that too. I remember…”

His eyes met hers at last. She didn’t know how to read them.

“Yes..?” she prompted, though part of her feared she didn’t want to hear the answer at all.

“I wanted to be happy,” he told her, like it was nothing more than a simple matter-of-fact. It was something everyone wanted, but to hear it come from him–it hurt, because he hadn’t gotten that chance. Zelda swallowed again, and her voice was much smaller when she asked,

“Are you?”

It sounded easy enough. Yes or no. But Link’s mouth twitched again in a way that told her he knew the depth of what she was asking. Was he happy in Hateno with her? Was he happy to spend his days with her? Was he happy with the news that their relationship had gone past that point where they couldn’t return? Happy to know that…this time, he wasn’t going to be a brother–he was going to be a father?

It was her own fear that had her pulling her hand to herself and standing from the table when his silence bled into something that felt too long. Suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to cry. She needed to move, to get away–but he was always three steps behind her, wasn’t he? And his hand grabbed her wrist before she could open the door and slip out.

“Zelda,” he said, his voice a whisper. She inhaled, her eyes fixed firmly on the door just before her. Logically, she knew Link wasn’t the type of man to abandon her. He’d faced the Calamity twice, when he could have very well woken from the Shrine and chosen a different path. Goddess forbid a baby be some sort of worser fate–but the thought that he would choose to stay for her when there was the possibility that he wasn’t happy…

“Link,” she begged.

“I wanted to be happy,” he repeated, and for a brief moment, it felt almost like salt being rubbed into a gruesome, open wound, “and– and I wanted a family.”

The words made her freeze. She turned her head slowly, and the eyes of the man she loved were scared. Scared she was going to walk away and not come back? Scared because of the news she had given him? There were tears glistening just in the corners of his eyes, and that was what made her turn around.

“I never thought I would live long enough to have that,” he told her, his voice strained. He was trying not to cry. The realization struck her like an arrow. Zelda pulled her hand free and slipped her arms around him instead, drawing him close to her chest. Once upon a time, it wasn’t in the stars for him to have that. He’d been moments from death, and the feel of his shallow breathing against her arms was always going to haunt her. What might as well have been his dead weight…

“But you have,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the shell of his ear. “You have. It- it’s yours, if you want it.” A laugh, watery and a little pathetic but one nonetheless, bubbled from his lips. She felt him clutch her a little tighter.

“Of course I want it. It- It’s all I’ve ever wanted, before I- I gave up wanting it.” He never thought he would get it. He expected to die by the hands of the Calamity, and he’d faced it anyway. Oh, the sword had chosen well.

“I love you,” Zelda told him, sinking one of her hands into his hair. It was as long as ever, but he’d stopped tying it back so much. “And I’m happy with you.”

“Zel,” and he didn’t say anything else. He only drew back just enough to kiss her instead, cupping her face in a fit of desperation like he was still scared she was going to throw the door open and run.

“You scared me,” she admitted when he broke the kiss, and maybe he knew that. Maybe he was trying to make up for it now with how he peppered kisses over her face, taking care of the tears she didn’t even know were there. “I- I thought maybe you weren’t happy, or-”

“I’m ecstatic,” he replied. She could hear it in his voice, the thickness mixed with that happy that he said he wanted. “I- Are you really…?”

“Purah made certain of it,” Zelda told him, as if she would ever lie about such a thing. Link made a face, something that said he didn’t want to know what she meant by that, and it was so human, so boyish that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t even know how to be a dad,” he breathed, and when his hand pressed to her stomach, she felt like sobbing all over again. “I…I’m scared. Should I be scared?”

“Oh, Link,” Zelda said, laughing again. “You’ll be a wonderful dad.”

And so long as they kept breaking tradition, she was certain they would keep their happiness, too. A knight who no longer served, a princess who never became queen–and now, she was going to break another tradition: a name for their child. A name that wasn’t going to be Zelda.

She would have to pry him for his sister’s name when they were finished crying.

#zelink #post calamity #hurt/comfort #at least i think this is hurt/comfort #there's definitely some angst in there #my bad #they are gonna be parents u guys #good for them #its what they deserve #requests #thank you for the req!!

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crossroadsandloudmusic · 2 years

Text

Hey y’all!!!! Super sorry about the super late post, as you can tell whenever I say I am going to post something one day I absolutely do not post.

In my defense I have been playing animal crossing and making soap!

anyways here ya go, third chapter of my Uvogin series

Chapter three: Isolation

literally my favorite gif of him😬🤫

warnings: domestic violence, non con, isolation, kidnapping, terrible stuff. Seriously if any of these themes are upsetting to you DO NOT READ!

Three months.

Three months and two days.

No, three months and three days.

It has been three months and three days since you’ve been taken from your home. Taken from your nice quiet, simple life that you often wished for an escape from. And you got exactly what you wished for. Your life now is full of excitement! You were completely isolated, not allowed outdoors or in public without Uvogin. When he was away on missions you would stay inside for days, or weeks at a time anticipating his return. And when he did come home you were forced to be the perfect partner for him. You’d fetch his beer, you’d rub his muscles, you’d wear the pretty outfits he picked out for you. When he kissed you, you’d kiss him back, when he hugged you, you’d hug him back. When he held you in his arms you’d snuggle next to him; making yourself as comfortable as you possibly could be with him. When he wanted more intimate things you’d take it like the perfect girl you are, at least how he had described it. Afterwards he would hold you so close, still panting, he would whisper the sweetest praises into your ears.

“I love you so much.”

“You did so good for me baby.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Too good for me, you are far too good for me.”

Such words would fill your heart with overwhelming joy had it not been your kidnapper whispering them to you. Part of you wanted to enjoy the tender moments, but your pride wouldn’t let you. You were content with pretending to love him, if it meant he wouldn’t punish you.

Although he was passionate and loving, he could be ruthless and brutal. It made you cringe to think of the way he could be. He was terrifying when he was angry, especially when his anger was directed towards you.

During the first weeks you had been taken and were forced to live with him, you fought him every chance you got. When he would come in you’d immediately attack him. Whether it was hitting him, screaming at him, kicking, biting, scratching, you did everything. Nothing was successful, your assaults didn’t even draw blood let alone make him flinch. Each time he’d pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, if you were misbehaving particularly badly he would smack your ass and tell you to settle down before you really pissed him off. He’d then take you to the bed or to the couch and squeeze you close to him. If you tried to fight back he’d only squeeze you tighter. Once he tightened his grip so hard you developed dark bruises on your sides and passed out from lack of oxygen. Only letting up when you went limp.

One evening, you caught his attention for real. Uvogin had been gone for weeks, during this time you paced the house more determined than you had ever been before to escape. You were brushing your teeth when the idea came to you. Uvogin was lenient as he could be in this type of situation, he allowed your hygiene products with the exception of some so as not for you to harm him or yourself. But he had left you with the worst weapon of all, ingenuity. After you finished brushing your teeth, you washed and dried your brush. You dropped to your hands and knees on the cold tile floor and began to drag the handle end of your brush against the rough grout. For hours you filed the end of your brush, your fingernails broken and bloody, your knuckles scraped and bruised. Several agonizing days later you had successfully made a knife. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut but it would do for stabbing. Hours before Uvogin’s arrival you went over exactly what the plan was. He would walk in, you’d reach up to hug him, and when he closed his eyes to embrace you, you shove the shank as deep as you could into his neck. When he was distracted by the blow you would push past him and run, run as fast and as far as you could. You would make it home, you would make it back to your mom, you would make it back to your old life.

That evening when you heard that all too familiar and almost frightening sound of Uvogin’s footsteps on the wooden steps, you approached the door; the shank carefully tucked into the back of your skirt. Uvogin stepped inside and greeted you with a large smile.

“There she is! Coming to greet me at the door! Missed me much?” He asked arrogantly as he set his stuff on the wooden floor.

“Come here, baby, I missed you.” He said as he outstretched his arms waiting for you to meet his embrace. You stepped forward with your hands behind your back. He tenderly wrapped his arms around you until he noticed your movements.

“Hey whatcha got there? A little surprise for me-” Cutting him off halfway you pulled the knife out and whipped around aiming directly for his throat, but his arm caught the blow before you could make contact. Instantly you regret your decision. His smile faded and he let you go harshly. He looked over to his arm which was now pouring blood with a toothbrush hanging out his muscle. Calmly he removed your homemade weapon and examined it.

“That’s cute. That’s real cute.” He said with a deep voice laced with fury. He stepped forward towards you to which you retreated in fear.

“No wait, I take it back! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! Please! No!” You screamed as he grabbed you around your bicep and ripped you off the floor. As you were pulled off the ground you heard a loud pop followed by the most searing pain. Your muscles and tendons tore as your shoulder was pulled out of socket, you wailed in pain. But your cries fell on to deaf ears as Uvogin dragged you to your shared bedroom. He stormed in and slammed the door behind him, he then threw you on to the bed.

“Don’t cry, don’t you fucking cry. You did this to yourself, all you had to do was listen. Maybe after you lay there for a couple days you’ll begin to behave yourself.” He said as he proceeded to chain your hurt arm to the bedpost. He took one last look at you before turning and saying,

“Next time you pull a stunt like that, I’ll cripple you.”

————————————————————————-

He left you for 7 days. Only coming in to bring the smallest bit of food and water. On day 7 he came in, set your food down just out of reach for you. You looked at him with desperation in your eyes,

“Please move it closer I...I can’t reach it.” You choked, your throat dry from the lack of moisture. Uvogin sat on the edge of the large bed and laughed.

“I did that for a reason. I want to see how far you can reach. Go on, go get it.” He said waiting for you with a crude smile across his face.

For three hours you reached and stretched. Each time was more painful than the other, still you struggled because you couldn’t take the thrist anymore. After you had continuously failed you retreated to your corner and sat feeling utterly defeated.

You felt so broken and weak. Had you just listened and bided your time, you might have found an easier way to escape. If you had only behaved you wouldn’t be chained to a bedpost, begging for food, covered in your own filth. Uvogin stood and nudged the tray that held your food closer, you jumped to your knees and scrambled to your food and drink before he had the chance to take it away.

After you had finished eating, Uvogin came closer.

“Stand up and strip. We have to get you cleaned up before everyone comes over this evening.” He said as he unlocked your chain. You thought hard about who he had meant, he didn’t strike you as a family man. Perhaps, he meant the troupe. Surely they all wouldn’t be coming over that evening to your small home?

Uvogin had been forthcoming about his work and who was, the truth was far more terrifying than anything he could make up.

He helped you stand as you had become quite weak, and he stripped you of your disgusting clothes. But instead of dragging you to the shower he gently lifted you off the floor and carried you to the bathroom.

“I’m not hurting you am I?” He asked as he set you down on the counter.

“No, no, I’m just tired, is all.” You replied, rubbing your shoulder. After spending as much time as you did alone, starving, and hurting, you felt it would be better for you if you were polite to Uvogin.

“Machi, is coming. She’s gonna fix that arm for you.” He said as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. He stared at you, you could see the pain in his eyes when he looked at your ragged, naked form. He sighed and placed his large hand on your knee and rubbed it gently.

“I’m sorry I hurt you…” He said searching for more to say. Instead he kissed your forehead and petted your matted hair.

“Come on baby, let’s get you cleaned up”.

He left you on the counter while he turned the water on in the shower. After getting the water to the appropriate temperature, he turned to you and began to take off his clothes. Your eyes wandered over his body, his muscular build never failed to amaze you. Your arms trailed from his legs, to his waist, then his torso and finally up his arms to his neck. A small pale scar sat on his tricep. You ran your fingers over it lightly, Uvogin jumped back from your touch.

“I’m...I’m sorry about that.” You said quietly. To which Uvogin smiled and sighed.

“Just...don’t do it again.”

Uvogin took you into the shower where he washed you thoroughly. He started at the top of your head where he massaged the soap and water into your scalp. Then he moved to your arms which he tenderly scrubbed. All the way up and down your body his fingers ran washing every inch.

Your mind still was repulsed by Uvogin but your heart couldn’t hide that the moment the two of you were sharing was sweet. You let your body relax in his hands, the shower being the first comfort you’ve had in so long. Uvogin noticed your reaction and smiled quietly. He had long been done washing you, but he didn’t want this to end so soon. Your beautiful form leaned against him so elegantly, looking for him to support you. His heart was full and his mind raced with sexual desire. He could feel his own temperature rise as hands roamed over your skin. As much as he wanted to take right then and right there, he knew it wouldn’t be long before Machi would arrive.

“Come on, baby, let’s get out.”

————————————————————————-

Uvogin helped you out of the shower and dried you off with one of his huge towels. Afterwards he gave a pair of your shorts and a large tee shirt to change into. Uvogin left you on the bed in the bedroom and into the living room to make a phone call, you sat on the bed and patiently awaited his return. You could hear his deep voice echoing throughout your home.

“Yeah, she’s doing alright…”

“Two more hours? Yeah that’ll be fine..”

“I’ll be here when you arrive…”

You heard bits of the conversation, assuming it was Machi you averted your attention elsewhere. The shower had been so incredibly warm and now that it was gone it left you shivering. You slid off the side of the bed and went to riffle through your shared closet to find some warm socks.

When you opened the closet door you were greeted with disorganization. Uvogin’s side was messy, his shirts and shorts strewn about, while your side was a bit better but you could tell that he had gone through your clothes. You straightened things up a bit and found a pair of fuzzy green and black checkered socks. Before you closed the door, something caught your eye. A large hairy pile on the floor seemingly kicked in the corner of the closet revealed to be one of Uvogin’s fur pelts. You lifted it up and examined it closely, the fur was thick and heavy.

‘A bear? Maybe a wolf.’ You thought to yourself.

You held it close to your face and took a quick whiff. You smelled traces of sweat, smoke, and blood? Most of all you smell Uvogin, his natural musk was so strong it covered everything he touched. Even after he cuddle you at night you’d be able to smell him in your hair. You thought for a second and then threw the enormous pelt around yourself. It weighed your shoulders down and was hard to move under but it was warm so it was decided you would keep it on. After adorning the pelt and socks you made your way back to the bed. Instantly you fell into the mattress and curled up amongst the pillows. Your arm still throbbed slightly but the comfort you had just found made it bearable.

‘This is bearable’

‘This is alright’

‘This is nice’ You thought as your body fell deeper into relaxation. Maybe this life was livable, maybe you could learn to love Uvogin like he had said. Maybe. Maybe you could allow yourself to find happiness here.

Soon after you fell into a deep sleep, Uvogin came back to find you wrapped up in one of his pelts, snoring softly. He stood in the doorway and watched for quite some time. He watched your chest rise and fall while you slept peacefully. Seeing you choose his clothes to wear, and laying on his side of the bed made him smile contently. Such a silly little thing you were, vicious at times, but sweet at others. Just the perfect little firecracker in his eyes. He watched you sleep till a knock came to the door, he reluctantly turned and walked down the hall to answer it.

————————————————————————-

Uvogin opened the door and was greeted by a tall woman with wild magenta hair. Behind her stood a slender man, with long jet black hair and a protruding nose.

“Come in…I’ll go get her…” whispers of conversation reached your ears. It roused you slightly but still your eyes laid heavy.

The sound of Uvogin’s thunder footsteps made their way down the hall and the closer they got the more your body began to rise.

He approached the door quietly and knocked softly.

“Hey? You awake?” He whispered, stepping in.

You sat up from your sleeping position and saw a beaming smile on the large man’s face.

“Hey, Machi’s here! We can go get her to take a look at that arm!” He said enthusiastically as he came to sit beside you on the bed.

You watched his movements and his expressions. He interacted with you like you were a pet. Rewarding you for your behavior, expecting your company; you were beneath him. Just one of his belongings in his home.

“Uvo...is it going to hurt?” You asked, looking up at him with concerned eyes.

Uvogin scooted closer to you and wrapped his hands around your shoulders.

“I’m not going to lie to you, baby. It’s going to hurt, but I’ll hold you the entire time.” He said.

“Okay…” you replied as you pondered the situation.

Together you and Uvogin walked into the living room, he held your hand as you trailed behind him.

————————————————————————-

You didn’t realize how deprived you actually were. Seeing different faces after so long almost made you emotional. You noticed every detail about the man and woman. They were so different, this scene was so strange compared to what you were used to.

You stared at both your eyes darting back and forth till Uvogin spoke up.

“(Y/n), this is Machi, she’s going to fix your arm. And this is Nobungana, he’s here to visit.” He said as gestured to the guest.

Quietly you stepped forward.

“I’m (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n).” You whispered meekly.

Although it was a pleasant sight to see new people, they intimidated you greatly.

Afterwards, Machi examined your arm. It was definitely out of socket, but other than the torn muscle and tendons you were fine.

Uvogin seated you between his legs and hugged you while Machi held your wrist. She shook it slightly before pulling your arm towards her. The feeling of your muscles and the ball of your shoulder sliding back into place was too much. The pain of the maneuver was too great and as a result, your head fell back and your eyes closed.

Machi let go and watched as Uvogin moved your unconscious body in an attempt to wake you up.

“She will wake up in a bit, keep her arm in a sling and it will be fine in a couple weeks.” She said coldly turning from you and going to retrieve her bag.

“Next time I don’t want to be called all the way over here just for a dislocated shoulder. Either be gentler or rip it off completely.” She said to Uvogin as she made her way to the door; Nobungana stayed propped against the wall.

Uvogin huffed in response as he continued to cradle your limp frame. Machi made her way out the door and towards the silver vehicle in the driveway. She turned and shot a look towards Nobungana as if to say, hurry up! Nobungana lifted himself off the wall and walked past Uvogin and you.

“A conjurer.” He said, looking down at you, still unconscious but lying comfortably in Uvogin’s lap.

Uvogin looked up at Nobungana confused till he gestured to you. He hummed in response and once again Nobungana spoke,

“She’s cute. But keep an eye on her, she has the probability to get powerful, perhaps more than you can contain.” He warned as he turned and headed to the entrance.

Unbeknownst to you, a strong (y/f/c) aura drifted around you. A terribly strong one. But you would never know exactly how powerful you could be, because Uvogin would keep small and fragile. Weak and ignorant to your ability.

After everyone had left, Uvogin hoisted you up and carried you to the bedroom where he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You would not leave him, and you would never get the chance to.

#uvo x reader #hxh uvo #yandere uvogin #uvogin x reader #uvogin #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #phantom troupe hxh

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