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delimeful · 7 months

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give me mercy no more (1)

G/t July Day 1: Enchanted

(Full Prompt List)

patron prompt: virgil hugging a crying janus!

warnings: arguing, tension, betrayal, mentions of assassinations, offscreen character thomas, it's a g/t fic but i didn't actually get to the g/t yet LOL, self sacrifice, crying, angst

“You can’t do this.”

Janus paused for the briefest moment at the sound of his closest friend’s voice, before continuing to pack away rations.

“Can’t I?” he asked airily, not turning around to face Virgil.

He’d known this confrontation was inevitable since they’d come up with the only possible solution to their kingdom’s problem. He hadn’t realized how unprepared he’d feel even now, with the hour of tribute rapidly approaching.

“It’s not right. Thomas needs you,” Virgil insisted, stepping closer.

Without even looking at him, Janus could picture the scowl he was wearing. Terrified and defiant in the face of impossible odds, as always.

Bringing up the heir apparent was a low blow, however.

“Yes, he does,” Janus snapped, a bite to the words. “Do you think anything else on this continent or any other could possibly move me to do something like this?”

A short, stagnant pause as Virgil struggled to find a retort.

“His Highness will be alright,” Janus added, softer. “Of course he will. You’ll be there at his side.”

A year ago, the idea of trusting any of the knights of this kingdom would have been laughable at best. The Sanders kingdom was a pit of vipers, and Janus had blended in with the best of them, climbing the ranks to the position of advisor through means that would make any moral man weep.

He’d still only barely been in time to prevent Thomas from perishing in a political assassination, one initiated by the same mage faction that had orphaned the young boy originally.

Janus didn’t have to do any investigation to learn that particular tidbit; it was an illuminating and concerning letter from the queen, an old friend of his, that had brought him back to the kingdom.

He’d been too late to save her. He’d made sure that the same couldn’t be said for her son.

Back then, he and Virgil had constantly been at each other’s throats, both expecting the other to betray the prince at any moment. Virgil saw right through Janus’ sly facades, and Janus knew that the rank and file of the kingdom’s army were only loyal to the highest bribe.

That was what they’d thought, anyhow.

When the next attempt rolled around, Virgil had been forcefully diverted from his usual patrol route, and was halfway across the grounds when the alarm was raised.

He’d torn through any opponent in his way in a desperate frenzy, and burst into the prince’s quarters expecting to see the worst.

Instead, he’d found Thomas whole and unharmed, positioned solidly behind Janus, who stood ready with two narrow, poisoned blades. The room already had a handful of would-be assassins collapsed on the ground, some in the same exact livery Virgil wore.

“Come and try,” Janus had hissed, keenly aware of the slash along his side and the way blood was already darkening his doublet.

Virgil, bigger and stronger and less winded even after a sprint across the kingdom, had taken two steps forward and knelt before him, head bowed.

The fool. Janus had almost stabbed him on reflex alone.

“Thank you,” he’d said, the back of his neck well and truly exposed, “for protecting him.”

Janus wasn’t used to being trusted. It had thrown him off for long enough that he’d stayed his blade, and before he knew it, Virgil had managed to worm his way under his defenses and become not only a trusted ally, but a snarky, paranoid, invaluable friend.

They grew to be called the Two Hands of the Future King, a title probably invented by some of the more pretentious court nobles. Virgil hated the attention, and Janus leaned into it just to annoy him.

They’d have to come up with something different, after Janus was gone. He wondered if his death would be referred to as something garishly insensitive, like The Amputation. Hopefully not; Virgil might actually come to blows if he heard that sort of thing.

He dragged his mind out of the past, sliding another ration he would likely never eat into his bag with the same smooth calculation he’d done everything else in his life.

“Besides, there’s no cause to be dramatic. I’ll be fine,” he said, voice full of a certainty he didn’t feel.

He held his breath as Virgil stood silently at his back for a long moment. His lies had never worked on the knight, but now he silently begged that for once, Virgil wouldn’t shatter the illusion. That he wouldn’t make this harder than it needed to be.

“Tell me how you plan to convince them,” Virgil finally said.

Janus let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I already went over my strategy at the council meeting, didn’t I?”

“I was too pissed off to pay attention,” Virgil replied bluntly. “Tell me again. The way you’ll tell the beast.”

It was a rare occasion for Virgil to want to embrace a lie instead of the painful truth. Janus could grant him that, at least.

“With the damages from the invasion, we find ourselves unable to provide our usual tribute without starving to death ourselves,” Janus began, the speech long-memorized in the agonizing past week of waiting. “In order to preserve the existence of our kingdom, and by extension, the existence of your future tributes many years to come, we have provided an alternative offering that we hope will please you.”

He turned and spread his hands in an elegant flourish, his posture loose and pointedly unwary. “Along with precious heirloom riches, you are offered His Highness's own most trusted advisor, with vast wisdom and knowledge gathered from this continent and others.”

To do with as you please, he completed silently in his head. That would be no comfort to Virgil.

After all, everyone knew what most dragons pleased to do to humans that inconvenienced them.

Virgil stared at him with a deep wrinkle in his brow for a moment, and then snorted. “I should have guessed that you would flatter yourself even in a time like this.”

Janus smirked, repeating his favorite retort. “I speak only the truth, Honored Knight, and I’d thank you not to imply otherwise.”

Virgil smiled despite himself, but as the silence stretched it collapsed into an expression much more desolate.

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Janus lied, and then, after a beat of hesitation, lifted his arms in a wordless offering.

Virgil crashed into the hug with enough force to nearly bowl Janus over, but he didn’t bother with a single complaint, only savored the warmth of his best friend safe in his arms.

He was doing this for both of them. His two most important people.

They stood like that for a long moment, and then with a low, pained sigh, Janus began to pull back.

Only to find that his limbs had gone strangely numb.

A jolt of surprise went through him, but all Virgil did was slowly shift them over to the nearby armchair, giving him somewhere to sit heavily as the prickling feeling spread further through his body.

“Something’s wrong,” he managed through lips he could barely feel.

Virgil, usually so quick to check him over at even the slightest sign of injury, spent a moment longer with his head tucked over his shoulder before withdrawing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his eyes were eerily lit up from within by magecraft. “But we both know who Thomas needs more. And it’s not me.”

The enchantment didn’t hurt. It settled soft and heavy on him like a blanket with the weight of stone, keeping him stuck in place even as his mind began to shriek.

“How?” he managed.

“I was born into a bloodline with the gift. Got kicked out. I didn’t want anyone to know,” Virgil said, letting a few sparks flick off his fingers. “I probably could have told you, I was just… afraid, I guess. I know it’s not fair to ask, but don’t tell Thomas? I don’t want to bring back bad memories for the kid.”

Janus had moved rapidly from shock to anger, not at the secret of Virgil’s nature, but at what exactly he planned to do with it.

“Don’t,” he said, a desperate tilt to the word even as it came out slightly mangled.

“You were right, Jay,” Virgil said with a wry tilt of his lips. “You’ll be fine. So take care of him, okay?”

Janus managed the slightest shake of his head, and whatever expression he was making was enough to make Virgil’s own composure crack slightly.

“You hypocrite,” he said, voice choked, and pulled him into another hug.

Janus hadn’t wept when he’d realized that the only way to keep Thomas safe was to sacrifice himself.

Now, with Virgil’s arms wrapped around him, he felt his stinging eyes spill over.

His breath hitched, the only version of a sob that could make it through his body’s current stasis.

“I know,” Virgil murmured, clutching him tightly. “I know. I won’t change my mind, but I’m sorry. I don’t— I don’t want to leave. But I have to.”

He couldn’t do anything to stop this, Janus realized blankly. He could only clutch back at his best friend’s arms with the barest curling of his numb fingers. He could only see the slight tremors that shook through Virgil’s frame, the pallid cast to his skin.

He could only watch as Virgil released him, picked up his bag and walked to the door, stopped to look at him with fear and stubbornness in equal measure.

“I’ll see you around,” he said simply, giving him a simple salute and a small smile.

And then he was gone.

#sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts janus #fantasy au #g/t july #g/t july 2023 #my writing #writing #give me mercy no more #gmmnm #posted late again. sory.#“why are you posting g/t july in september” this is an ADHD task completion simulator and you're all invited to participate

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gisellelx · 17 days

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Every once in a while, I reread one of your stories and I can’t help but check your website for any updates for One Day 😇 Just curious: are you still working on it? No pressure whatsoever of course!! I love the way you portray Carlisle in that fic & am already super thankful for those first 8 or so chapters! Anyways, hope you are doing well & thanks for providing us with so many high-quality fics!

- Sannehale

Ah, this ask made my year. (Also now I realize your two blog names. Sneaky!)

Yes., yes I am. It was actually open on my laptop even as this ask came in. My prereader is asking about it too--I stopped giving her chapters because I was realizing that I got a lot of enjoyment out of sending them to her and that was filling enough void that it cut off my writing mojo. I'm thrilled though, that she can't see where it's going.

I'm stuck on chapter 16 (of likely 23-25) at the moment because a whole bunch of dominos have to fall in order to get to several reveals that are going to happen in very fast succession to move the story out of the second act. Also the second act/B story was hard because I am not a romance writer! 😆 It's not the genre I read and I'm not very good at writing it, but the middle of this story called for a romance and so there is one. Or so I hope.

I've also gone back and shored up some things that needed shoring--introduced a few of the characters who turned out to be important earlier on, and added another character in Bella's research mentor, Amy Jackson. I'm worried that I'm under-utilizing her at the moment.

This ask, though, prompted me to back out to the card view in the Scrivener project and I realize I actually did leave myself the breadcrumbs necessary to get myself out of here. Maybe I'll put my shoulder to the wheel and see what happens if I just follow the outline I laid out.

Anyway. I feel like I shouldn't end an ask without giving a little bit of some of the over 40,000 words that are written and not posted. So here's a tiny bit. This actually may not stay in, and in any event doesn't spoil anything--it's also the headcanon behind this chapter of Montage, though this scene was written years ago and my headcanon about Carlisle's name and his parents' names goes back over fifteen years now.

Of course, I knew a lot more than most people who were hunting down a relative from the 1600s. I clicked on the link for church records, and then delimited my search. If Carlisle was 367, that put him in 1644. That seemed reasonable. I filtered the results by the location, London, and then 1640 to 1650.

CULLEN, I typed. CARLISLE.

Zero hits. I frowned at my screen for a long moment and then practically slapped myself in the head. Of course there were no hits for Carlisle Cullen. Wasn’t this the very thing we’d been arguing about for months, now? I backspaced over the first name, and changed it to WILLIAM.

There were only three hits. Astonishing. I had assumed that Carlisle would have done his due diligence. He’d had hundreds of years to track this information down—why hadn’t he? William Cullen number one was in the baptismal records of St. Luke’s Catholic Church. He had been baptized in 1642. That would make him nearly the same age as Carlisle, no luck there. William Cullen number two, however, was on over seventy pages of documents—the records of St. James Aldgate, listed as parish pastor. And William Cullen number three almost caused my heart to stop.

Born 17 February 1644. Died 8 August 1667.

Twenty-three years old.

My heart, pounding, I clicked on the church register, enlarging it so that it filled my screen. The handwriting was old, faded and pixelated, but it was tidy and easy to read. Carlisle Cullen, it read, with William crammed onto the line before the first name, in the same handwriting but obviously a different pen—the lines were narrower, slanted slightly differently. Born and baptized on February 17, 1644. Father, William Cullen number 2. And mother…

My heart sped. There, in the same scrawly hand—his father’s hand, I realized, it must be—was written the words, Sarah Cullen (Crawforth).

A quick “Open in New Tab” allowed me to pull all the records from the 1600s from St. James Aldgate and in five minutes, I had a birth date of November 15, 1620. And a death date, which was of course expected, of February 17, 1644. But it was the annotation here which was breathtaking—in a different handwriting, written by the midwife? Some other member of the parish?

Died babe in arms.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and with blurry vision, on a hunch, I ran one last search. Then I printed the pages with the documents, shoved them in a folder, and headed for my car.

#carlisle cullen #writing #my fic #teasers #one day the sun will rise

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kazoosandfannypacks · 11 months

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"Last Chance" by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Word Count: 1K Summary: Killian had been hoping to tell Emma about his feelings for her at some point this Christmas break, as their friends visited with her brother. As the holiday came and went, Killian feared he may have missed his chance. Fortunately for him, one last Christmas decoration has yet to be put away- and it may be just what they need to break the ice. Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, one shot, modern au, christmas, snowing, first kiss, oneshot, college au Author's notes: This one's based on a prompt that @everything-person sent to the discord a while back! It was probably jsut after Christmas when it was sent, and I wrote it not long after that, but it sat in my drafts for a while. After a poll revealed y'all wouldn't mind a Christmas fic in May, I've decided today would be an awesome day to post it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Shoutout to @booksteaandtoomuchtv for betaing! Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!] Also on Ao3!

Killian smiled at Emma across the room as she took down the decorations on the tree, just like he'd smiled at her when she'd helped put them up, and like he'd smiled at her when they'd helped her sister-in-law make cutout cookies, and when they'd all gone caroling and got hot chocolate afterwards, and when they exchanged gifts on Christmas morning, and when they all sat down for a Christmas dinner- and really, like he'd been smiling at her since the day he met her at a campus-wide fall festival- one that he'd almost decided not to attend; one that she'd've skipped out on if her friends hadn't dragged her along.

But how fortunate was he that he'd gone, and that he'd somehow fallen in with her friend group there, and how readily they invited him to join them at various activities afterwards. Already they'd celebrated a few birthdays together, set up a trunk for trunk-or-treat, gone on a few hikes- and now they'd even celebrated Christmas together.

It really was kind of Emma's brother to invite him and some of their other friends to stay over the week for Christmas. It was nice to get away from the dorms for a bit to celebrate a small town Christmas.

It also would've been the perfect opportunity for Killian to tell Emma how he felt about her. Christmas magic in the air, blanket of snow across the town, the lights, the excitement, the merriment, the wonder- but as Killian helped her brother, David, take down the last string of Christmas lights, he realized he'd probably missed his chance at a Christmas miracle. Tomorrow they'd head back to school, back to classes and teachers and homework- back to normal.

And, unfortunately for Killian, his normal life only involved liking Emma from a distance.

"And it looks like another family- and friends- Christmas is officially in the books." David said, wrapping up the last string of lights.

"Thanks for having us," Killian said.

"Our pleasure," David said, "the more the merrier."

"Allow me," Killian said, taking the string of lights from David, "you've already done more than enough for us."

"Alright."

A bright green tote labeled "XMAS LIGHTS" sat just between this room and the living room- where Emma had been taking the last of the decorations off the tree. Killian wondered if he could steal another glance at Emma without anyone noticing, but his glance revealed she was coming that way, with a string of lights of her own to put away.

"Here," Killian said, walking past the tote to take the string of lights from her.

"I can get it," she said, holding out the string of lights at arms length away from him.

"It's really no trouble at all," Killian said. He stood in the doorway between her and the box of lights, and when she tried to walk past him, he sidestepped into her path. She tried again, and he blocked her again, and again, and the same result.

She sighed as she handed him the bundle of lights. "You really are taking the fun out of this."

"Am I?" Killian asked with a smug smile.

Mary Margaret interrupted their conversation to yell something past them both, to David.

"Oh, David! We still need to take the mistletoe down too!"

Killian knew which doorway the mistletoe hung in almost too well- he'd seen David catch his wife standing there a few too many times- and it happened to be the very same doorway that Killian and Emma were now standing under.

"No," Emma said, "I already…."

She looked up at the ceiling almost confused, like she hadn't expected the mistletoe to be right where it had been for the last two weeks, so much so Killian almost didn't expect it to be there either. But Killian looked up too, and sure enough, there was the mistletoe, right above himself and Emma Swan.

"This is almost too good to be true," Killian thought. Fate had given him one last chance at a Christmas miracle.

"I thought I took that down," Emma said.

Killian swallowed the lump in his throat- it was now or never.

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"We're under the mistletoe," he said, trying not to chicken out as her eyes met his, "and there's this tradition…."

"Do Christmas traditions still count after New Year's?" Emma asked.

"I sure hope so." Killian thought.

"The last chance of the season," he said, "may I?"

Emma smiled and nodded, and Killian's heart skipped a beat as she said, "Yeah."

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, meeting her lips with his for the most perfect moment of his life. Her lips touching his was like a meteor shower, or a firework- beautiful, entrancing, dangerous- and done and over with way too soon. He pulled away, smiling, wishing he could've made that moment last longer, but not wanting to push her further than she was willing to go.

He thought his heart was beating so loud she could probably hear it, but realized instead that the sound was their friends clapping. He didn't turn to look at them though- in that moment, all he wanted to see was Emma.

"Is that the best you got?" Emma asked.

"What?" Killian asked.

"It's like you said," Emma said, taking from his hands the bundles of lights that had gotten them into this beautiful mess in the first place. She threw them aside, probably landing them somewhere near the tote they belonged in.

"What?"

"'Last chance of the season-'" she said, "might as well make it a good one."

She placed her hands on his neck, stood up on tiptoes so her lips were parallel with his, then whispered, "May I?"

Killian couldn't get out much more than a nod and a breath that sounded almost like a "yeah," not even seeing this moment coming in his wildest daydreams- Emma Swan asking to kiss him.

She slid her hands down to his collar and pulled him closer, drawing his lips down into hers in a kiss that blew the last one out of the water.

He placed his hands on her waist, trying to experience everything he could in this moment- his lips exploring hers, her body in his hands, the lingering taste of gingerbread in her breath, a subtle pine smell, her warmth- holding her closer than he'd ever dared dream she'd let him. He was so lost in the moment he didn't even hear their friends cheering around him as he wrapped one of his hands further around her side, resting her neck in his other, pulling her into a dip and holding her as tightly as he could, pulling her even closer as he kissed her.

For the past three months he'd been watching her from a distance, wishing he could tell her how much she meant to him, wishing he could even just take her hand, ask her to get coffee, hold her at a dance, walk her back to her dorm and kiss her goodnight. And now that he had her in his arms and had her lips on his, he had three months of catching up to do, and one kiss to do it in. Every moment spent pining from a distance equalled another ounce of passion and love he needed to communicate in this kiss.

But as all good things have to, this kiss came to an end. Emma pulled away, her hands still on his neck, her eyes still sparkling in reflection of his, her breath still lingering on his lips. They both breathed heavily, still lost in their own little world a moment longer, until he gently stood her upright again.

"Wow," he whispered, hoping his voice wouldn't be drowned out by the cheering of her friends around them. "Swan, that was…."

"I know," Emma whispered, a look in her eyes that said it still wasn't nearly enough.

But she shook her head and blinked back to reality, and he as well noticed the crowd of spectators around them. Then he looked back down to Emma, her cheeks flushed with the most perfect shade of red he'd seen that whole Christmas season.

She smiled as she let go of him, albeit a bit awkwardly, and he watched her walk away from him, not taking his eyes off her until she'd walked out the back door and disappeared from view. The rest of the group, apparently, had decided the show was over and got back to whatever they'd been doing before Killian's life changed forever like that.

Killian ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, leaning against the doorway to brace himself and his thoughts. He'd just kissed Emma Swan. He'd practically made out with her- and if he could do that, what was stopping him from finding a moment with her later, telling her how he felt, asking her if she wanted him to be something more to her.

He smiled as he took down that fateful mistletoe plant, now filled with hope that maybe things wouldn't be so normal when they got back to school- or maybe normal would be something even better now.

Maybe he hadn't missed his chance with Emma after all.

#captain swan #once upon a time #killian jones #emma swan #ouat #fanfiction #cs ff #david nolan #mary margaret blanchard #snowing #christmas #college au #modern au #first kiss #cw kissing

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distant-eclipses · 6 months

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I'm gonna be writing DCA fanfics(using @dca-fanart-gallery's prompt list for this particular fic) for at least most of october. Today's prompt: fire

Summary: "There was only one person who he needed to save, who couldn't be fixed. The rulebreaker may have broken the one simple rule it had set, but he didn't deserve to burn for it!"

Sun wants to save Gregory, but a certain security robot has other ideas(takes place during the Unmasked ending)

Note: Before Ruin came out I had an au where Sun and Moon managed to escape the pizzaplex as the "true ending" happened. But while that's pretty out of date now, it still helped inspire me to write this

Quick cw: this is a bit more angsty than my other works. Also, Sun hurts himself a bit, but it's not major

No no no!

Sun climbed up the slide, bolting towards the entrance as soon as he could stand. It could hear the S.T.A.F.F bots panicking and sounding their alarm, but ignored the temptation to go back for them. He had already spent too long trying to find the source of the smoke in the play area, there was no time to corral them all. He still felt guilty, but the knowledge that they could be rebuilt stopped him from changing its mind. There was only one person who he needed to save, who couldn't be fixed. The rulebreaker may have broken the one simple rule it had set, but he didn't deserve to burn for it!

Smoke flooded into the daycare as the main entrance opened. Waving some of it away with his hand, Sun started coughing, only to pause as he remembered that it didn't have lungs. Even so, he could hear his fans running as a wave of heat hit him. Ready to help the rulebreaker escape, stepped forward, but stopped as two facts hit him like a toy truck that was thrown by an angry preschooler.

One, the smoke was covering the neon lights, making everything darker. Two, leaving the daycare was against the rules.

But it'd be okay to leave, right? He wouldn't be gone for long, he'd return after the fire. But if he got caught... Sun started to pace, grabbing onto his rays and gently tugging. How long would a fire last anyway, someone had to have called a fire department. But what if that person spotted him? He stopped pacing and leaned forward, trying to steady his breathing and calm down. "Take deep breaths Sunny..." After all, the rules were only one of the things he needed to worry about.

Even if he didn't leave, Moon was still a problem. Would the smoke be enough to activate it? What would he do? He liked rules almost as much as Sun, what if he stayed and let them burn? Even if Sun managed to leave the daycare, what if it found an employee and told them about how he was a rulebreaker? It gripped onto its rays tighter, doing harsher tugs as he thought of that no good, dirty, rotten-

The sound of groaning metal was the only warning he had to move.

He jumped forward, hitting his head on the ground as the shutter fell on his ankles. He twisted his torso and leaned back(forward?), frantically tugging on his legs. "No-!" One of his hands drifted up towards his rays, pausing as he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head. Oh no. The smoke was too dark. He was active. Sun groaned and threw his head back, gripping onto the sides of his faceplate as he struggled to stay in control. Not now! He needed more time!

[Naughty, naughty]

Sun fought down Moon's urge to laugh. He could feel the naptime attendant's amusement, Sun broke a rule. It slammed his head against the floor, letting out a scream at the added pain. Despite his stress, he giggled, knowing that it wasn't just him who did the scream. A wave of annoyance made him wince, cutting off the tiny bit of enjoyment he managed to have.

[Stop it]

"No!" He just needed a little more time! The fire- there was a fire. The pressure in his head suddenly lifted, was Moon distracted? Not wanting to waste the sudden freedom, he lifted the shutter and pulled his leg back. He managed to stand up and start limping towards the escalators before the pain returned, leaving him stumbling to try to avoid the flames and rubble.

[What are you doing?]

Sun groaned, pulling on the ribbons on his wrist despite the desire to go back to clutching its head. They must be broken, Sun must've broken them. "I need to save my new friend!" Well, probably not his friend, but he was a still a child.

[We'll burn]

"We need to save-"

[Stupid Sun!]

The sudden wave of pressure and pain almost sent Sun tumbling to the ground. Shaking, he tried to hit his forehead as it felt his control slipping. [My new friend-]

Moon stretched and spun his faceplate. "Not our friend. Not your friend." The security robot limped towards the entrance, unflinching as Sun started to yell at it.

[He's a child!]

"He is naughty. It's his naptime" No! He tried to grab a bit of control back, he knew what that meant, only to stop as he felt a wave of anger. "No more sun! Naughty! Rulebreaker!" Moon tugged on his wrist ribbons, grumbling.

[But... the child-]

"Our lives." The fight drained out of Sun as he felt more of Moon's anger. "No more sun, stay quiet."

As the doors were opened, the wave of cool, fresh air was a relief. But as Moon sat alone on the pavement, Sun had a hard time feeling happy about it. Moon tugged on his ribbons.

#dca promptober #fnaf security breach #fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #this is also posted on ao3(same summary) if you want to read it there #I could just use the previous tag and add a title but no<3

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shadowsong26fic · 1 year

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See You Soon

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: PG

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Padme, Anakin, Obi-Wan

Warnings: Just background war, etc.

Summary: Anakin, Padme, and Obi-Wan manage to sneak in a call in the middle of the War and all their other responsibilities.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: Written for the Year of the OTP event. February prompt: established relationship/long-distance.

(I am also doing this for BSG and some of my original ‘verses, if you’re interested in checking those out! One ship per canon. The fanfic ones will be posted to AO3 probably a day or two after they’re on tumblr. This fic is also available on AO3 here. Master list of all fills can be found here.)

It had been months since the three of them had been in the same place at the same time.

Technically, they still weren’t--Padme was home on Naboo for meetings with the Queen and other local politicians; Obi-Wan was in his quarters on the Dauntless; and Anakin was planetside somewhere rainy, based on the way his hair was plastered to his head and the faint not-quite-static background noise.

Still, it was something like being together, even if they couldn’t touch. The chance to see one another’s faces, hear each other’s voices--that mattered. And, for the first time in three weeks, everything had lined up so they could have a call.

“You’re both doing all right?” she asked, searching their holograms for any signs of strain or injury they were trying to hide.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan assured her.

“I’m fine,” Anakin said, hard on his heels. “You?”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” she said, but she softened it with a smile. “Yes, I’m fine. I miss you.”

“Me, too,” Anakin said.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan repeated, quietly. “But I think--I hope--that Anakin and I will both be back on Coruscant in a week or so?”

Anakin nodded. “Assuming things keep going as they have been here,” he said.

“I’ll be back by then,” Padme said, relieved. “Unless something else calls me away.”

“We’ll have that to look forward to, then,” Obi-Wan said.

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “I can’t wait. I miss you both.”

He stretched out his hand, almost as if he could touch one or the other of them; first Padme, then Obi-Wan, layered their own projected hands on top of his.

“Next week,” Padme said. “I think I can track down that spicy hot chocolate you both like.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, with a faint, teasing smile. “Cruel, to promise that when we have to wait an entire week to actually taste it.”

Anakin just laughed, but the set of his shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, it’s something else to look forward to, at least,” he said. “Especially slogging through all this karking mud.”

“It could be worse,” Padme said.

“You could have been sent to Jakku,” Obi-Wan added.

Anakin stuck his tongue out.

“Love you, too,” she said, smiling.

“Love you, too,” Obi-Wan echoed.

“Love you,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan glanced at something outside his comm’s video range. “I have to go, I’m afraid. But…next week.”

“Next week,” Anakin agreed.

“Next week,” Padme said, firmly.

If everything goes as expected.

Which, all too often, was no longer the case. Her boys would be dragged into another battle, or she’d have to investigate a scandal, or oversee a relief mission, or…

Don’t borrow trouble, she reminded herself. You have enough of it already.

Obi-Wan smiled again, one last time, then cut off his transmission without saying goodbye. A habit they’d formed, months ago. A superstition.

If none of them said goodbye, then it couldn’t possibly be the last time they spoke. Right? The universe wouldn’t--couldn’t--let them go without saying goodbye.

“I should probably go, too,” Anakin said. “The rain’s starting to ease up, I need to scout a bit before we move on. …I love you.”

“I know,” she said.

He blew a kiss before his transmission fizzled out, and she sighed, letting her eyes drift closed.

It wasn’t the same--not nearly the same--as having them here with her. Being able to touch them, taste them, listen to their heartbeats, feel their arms around her. But it was better than nothing; better by far than the aching silence when she had to wait for official reports that mentioned their names.

And with the echo of their voices, and the afterimages of their holograms, still drifting through the air…

It was enough to keep her going, until she could have them here with her again.

#shadowsong writes star wars

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #tony stark & reader #steve rogers angst #angst #implied cheating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader

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charleswaterloo · 3 years

Note

AGREED DO THE ULTIMATE FIC REC

Thank you so much for asking!! Okay, here we go!

DC fics that I got a few paragraphs into and already KNEW were going to be AMAZING:

1. The Jason Project by loosingletters

Warnings: Major Character Death

Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.

My thoughts: I don't often cry (which isn't healthy lmao) but this fic made me cry (happy tears!). It is absolutely wonderful and while angsty it has such a beautiful ending. I can't recommend it enough!

2. Little bird by Ididloveyou_once

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim knew he was fucked if only for the way that his brain was chanting Jason, like a litany. So he definitely didn’t need to hear the cold, mechanical chuckle or the chillingly delighted 'lucky me' to know that this was not good.

He took a second to look down at his coffee mournfully.

Then, he threw it at Hood’s helmet and bolted down the Tower corridor.

Or: Tim is supposed to be at Gotham Academy for a parent-teacher conference. Hood has other plans (Titans Tower AU).

My thoughts: One of the best Titans Tower AU fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. The ending is to die for and so fluffy - it never fails to warm my heart <3

3. Straight to Voicemail by cabbagetop

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

“Red Hood. I need you to incapacitate Timothy Drake-Wayne.” “Aw, man,” Jason sighs, shouldering through the old wooden doors and out into the street with his books under his arm. “You and half the northern hemisphere. What’d he do this time?”

Jason's phone is blowing up about one Timothy Drake-Wayne (who is Jason's responsibility since when, exactly?). Jason comfort-eats. Jason suffers long. Jason reluctantly tries to keep this Raphus cucullatus of a human being alive, and maybe finds himself sidling back into the family while he's at it.

My thoughts: I was crying with laughter by the third sentence. If you want free serotonin, you will find it here folks, I guarantee it. Brilliantly written and hilarious and such a fantastic interpretation of Jason's character. Please read this lmao <3

4. miss me? by envysparkler

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Jason’s plan to observe his family’s reactions to his resurrection…does not go as intended.

My thoughts: I think I've recommended this one at least once before, but I will do so again because it is one of the best stories I have ever had the honour of reading on AO3. It has a happy ending, but was another fic which actually made me tear up. It is just beautiful and I'm sure some of you have read it before. Read it again even if you have - it's that good.

5. No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?”

Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”

My thoughts: I know of only about 3 or 4 fics featuring Tim absolutely high out of his mind on some drug or another and this has got to be one of the absolute best of them. Whenever I feel the Depression(TM) crawling in and I need to laugh INSTANTLY I read this. It has not failed me yet. I can't recommend it enough it's so funny and a great read <3 The line below from the fic makes me scream laugh EVERY TIME:

“He’s not in his right mind.” “So? Neither are you half the time but you’re still in charge of everything.”

6. The Ouija Boy by SunnyBlue

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Timothy Drake was a stillborn baby. He was born dead, stayed that way for a solid five minutes, and was then resuscitated in the delivery room. He was a child who grew up alone, but for his imaginary friends. He had so many imaginary friends, in fact, that his parents sent him to get evaluated several times over the course of his childhood, which was spent with Tim as the only heartbeat in that house.

But that didn’t mean he was alone.

---

Tim sees dead people. When a Batboys murder investigation is going nowhere, he realizes his only chance at solving the case is to speak to the ghost of one of the victims. He has to reveal his secret to his brothers -- or risk the killer getting away.

My thoughts: STAND BACK FOR POSSIBLY ONE OF MY TOP TEN FAVOURITE FICS OF ALL TIME. I'm pretty sure I've recommended this one before but I will do so again. The story is impeccable, the mystery is ELITE and everything about it is literally perfect. I re-read this at least once a month so I can bask in its greatness and become a better person for having read it.

7. there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

From a tumblr prompt.

AKA, "A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who's the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points."

My thoughts: I'm going to let the note I added to the bookmark I made of this fic speak for itself. Here's what I wrote: "This was so funny - shoutout Jason for undeniable lad vibes plus the fact he felt he needed to neatly organise and write down the big three's sexiest traits."

8. American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business.

Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham.

That's Jason's job, after all.

My thoughts: Please GOD just read the first few paragraphs. You'll know exactly what I mean when I say that this fic is it. Hilarious, badass and adorable. I mean, see the title of this fic rec. I just knew this fic was going to be amazing from the first line.

I have many, many more of course, but I'll leave this here for now as it's getting to be a pretty long post. Anyway, these are all fics - short and long! - that I knew were going to be absolutely perfect within the first few moments of reading. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Cherry Bomb - Sebastian Stan smut

The one where your mob boyfriend will do anything to get you pregnant - including fucking you in front of his friends

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, kind of praise kink, breeding kink, mob au, daddy kink, mention of diabetes in dirty talk? I swear it makes sense, squirting,

A/N: Thank you to my love, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for reading this over for me. This is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Baby, come here.” The sound of his voice surprised me, almost making me drop the tray of cookies I was carrying. When Sebastian told me he’d have a meeting in his office for the better part of the evening, I’d anticipated a pretty boring day by myself - hence the idea of baking to try to occupy my mind with something.

I definitely didn’t expect to be called into said meeting, and couldn’t think of a good reason why that was the case. Still, I didn’t have any reason to disobey him either. In fact, I knew it better than to do that, by now.

So my feet took me in the direction of the only room in the house I didn’t get to spend much time in: his office, my curiosity driving me as much as my eagerness to see him again. It didn’t matter it had only been a couple of hours, I was always desperate for him and his touch.

Thankfully, it seemed like he felt the same. Upon seeing my face appear on the threshold of the door, his usually mean demeanor changed to welcome an excited - if not slightly mischievous - smile, and he reached out to me, almost anxious to feel me near again.

“There you are.” Once on his lap, I relished on the sensation of feeling safe and cared for. This man, who was the cause of so many people’s nightmares and shivers, only ever meant peace and bliss to me. “Where are your manners, honey? C’mon, greet my friends like the good girl I know you are.”

Startled, I took my face out of its preferred hiding spot - the crook of Sebastian’s neck - to finally take notice of the other men in the room: Chris and Anthony, my boyfriend’s closest associates.

“I’m sorry,” I was quick to retract myself, opening up a smile that I hoped would be enough to get me to be forgiven. “It’s nice to see you guys.” The men in question chuckled, and thankfully my minor misbehavior didn’t seem to have affected the atmosphere in the room too badly.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Anthony nodded towards me, his eyes glinting with something I didn’t quite understand. “We all know how you can get when Sebastian calls for you.” My face warmed up with this acknowledgment, and I fought the instinct to hide it against my boyfriend again. Meanwhile, said boyfriend just chuckled lightly, rubbing circles on my back as if he knew it eased my embarrassment somewhat.

“You know I’m just as crazy when you’re around, princess.” That did make me feel a little bit better, and the comments from the other men only helped me further.

“Crazy, possessive, insane…” Anthony counted, his head tilting from one side to another with each word that fell from his lips.

“When she’s around and when she isn’t,” Chris added. I didn’t have to look at my boyfriend to know that he was steaming as he stared his friends down - the fingers that were possessively pressing down on my hips told me as much.

“If you’re done trying to get a kick out of me…” He warned, finally turning his attention completely to me. “Baby, it’s almost time.” I glanced at the clock before realizing that he was right.

Ever since Sebastian decided he wanted to impregnate me, he’d been fucking me around the clock, paying attention to what the doctors said about fertility cycles and prime mating hours, never letting me spend more than sixty minutes without his cum deep inside of me.

“Okay…” I agreed, trying to understand what was his plan, since the other mob bosses’ stances made it pretty clear that the meeting wasn’t over and Sebastian didn’t seem to intend to call it off either.

“Then I think we better start now, huh?” His hand squeezed my thigh, just as a pang of arousal went straight to my already overflowing cunt when his words finally made sense. “Get to work, honey.”

It was an order I’d be stupid not to follow - but I didn’t want to disobey it either. With trembling fingers, I slowly unbuttoned my dress and let it pool down on the floor until I was standing in my underwear in front of my boyfriend and his closest friends, trying to unclasp my bra despite my nervousness.

But Sebastian wasn’t a patient man. Which is why I was hardly surprised when he pulled me to him again, quickly getting rid of my undergarments as he chuckled upon seeing just how damp my panties were from the mixture of both of our cums.

“Such a good little whore,” he whispered, almost to himself - but I heard it, and it prompted a new wave of wetness to flow from me. I made it a point not to look at Anthony and Chris, even though I knew they were staring at me, taking in my body with all of the bite marks and love bites that my boyfriend kept me decorated with, but as I was climbing Seb’s lap, it quickly became clear he wouldn’t allow me the blissful ignorance of his friends’ presence.

“No, no, princess,” he spoke, quickly manhandling me into turning around so I’d sit on his lap with my body turned towards the other men in the room. “Like this.” I gasped when I took in the way Anthony and Chris were looking at me, their eyes dark and lustful - I couldn’t deny that.

My entire body tingled, and I knew my wetness was now dripping from me, running down my thighs. I could feel it. I’d never been this aroused, as humiliating as it was to admit it. Absentmindedly, I started rubbing myself against the head of his member, my eyes glued on both men in front of me, but quickly, Sebastian made sure to get his way again.

“Now it’s not the time for teasing, baby.” That was all the warning he gave me as he started to pull me to sit down on his cock, the thick member stretching me even after all of the times I had it inside of me.

“She’s so wet already,” Anthony commented, eyes glinting dangerously as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip. I didn’t know what to say, but thankfully, my boyfriend took over for me, letting me focus on his cock and the way it was filling me completely.

“Yeah.” He squeezed my hip, and I could hear the pride just in that word, making me melt against him. “You’re always this way for me, aren’t you, honey?” He wasn’t wrong, so I wasn’t about to lie to him.

“Y-yes.” My fucked-out voice had all three men chuckling. Sebastian took advantage of my sitting position to pull my head back and press a kiss to my temple. I relished in it. I loved the gentle caresses he gave me whilst doing the nastiest things to my body.

“Yeah, I fucked her nice and deep already,” my boyfriend informed his friends, the tone sounding almost nonchalant, like it was no big deal. “Besides, she’s always ready for daddy to take, huh? Whenever I want to, you’re always wet for me, aren’t you, princess?”

I must have babbled some sort of agreeance, since he didn’t push me to say anything else. He had started to move me by then, forcing my hips up and down to ride his dick, and my moans took over the silence of the room.

“I bet she’s sweet as candy,” Anthony’s voice broke the tension once more. Behind me, Sebastian laughed, much to my surprise. I was used to his possessive persona, the one who couldn’t deal with anyone staring at me for too long, much less exploring my naked body with their eyes while commenting on the way I tasted.

“Oh, yeah… could make a diabetic die of pleasure between these thighs.” The comment, paired with the hand that found my clit and started rubbing, had me whining in need, already so close to cumming.

“Shit, the sounds that she makes…” That’s when Chris finally joined in on the debauchery, his hand curling over the prominent boner poorly hidden by his slacks. “And here I was, thinking she was this innocent little thing…”

I wanted to say something. I really did, anything to defend myself - even if I wasn’t really being wrongfully accused. It just felt like I should - like, for whatever reason, there was something wrong with me, if I allowed my boyfriend to do this, fuck me in front of his friends, take me for their eyes to see.

But I didn’t. Because one thing was obvious, and I’d never be able to deny it: I liked it. So when Sebastian answered, keeping the conversation going like I wasn’t even in the room, like he wasn’t buried balls deep inside of me, I just kept moaning and mewling, trying my very best to keep myself from orgasming before he allowed me to.

“Oh, but she is,” my boyfriend informed his best friend, and I could feel his proud gaze settling over me once more. “She gets so shy about what I ask her to do, still. But she does it anyway, don’t you, baby? You’re the best girl for daddy, aren’t you?”

I could only nod, particularly since his arm snaked to the front of my body, easily locating my clit so he could start rubbing it. “You know you need to get off first, honey.” His tone was almost disappointed, like he was scolding me. “It helps with the conception.”

I knew that, and as much as I could feel it - the orgasm rising inside of me, threatening to take over and take me to bliss - I didn’t feel like I’d be able to stumble over that edge. Not with so much happening, so many gazes settled on me. It was too much pressure.

“C’mon, you can trust them,” Sebastian tried to convince me, his stubbled jaw rubbing against my naked back. “Show them how cute you look when you cum all over my cock.” The words made me whimper.

I wanted to, I really really wanted to. And I was so close, but I could feel it slipping away, almost out of reach - “Don’t you want to start our family, princess?” He pressed on, trying to get me to tip over the edge. “Gimme my baby, c’mon.”

And just like that, he coaxed an orgasm out of me. Wetness flooded from where we were joined - he’d always been able to make me squirt so easily, I didn’t even know I was able to do that before we got together.

I could hear Anthony’s “damn” and Chris’ “oh, shit”, but they sounded distant, almost underwater somehow. All I could focus on was the feeling of Sebastian’s fingers bruising my hips as he filled me with his cum, making me moan out loud at the warmth that took over my lower half upon feeling so stuffed.

“There ya go, baby.” I felt my boyfriend press a soft kiss on my temple, as he tucked me against his chest. “Go to sleep now, honey. I know how tired you get once I fuck you throughly.” He wasn’t wrong, I was already yawning. “You’ll stay here for the night.”

And as I felt his cock keeping me plugged, his hands caressing my back while he went back to talk to his partners about business deals, all I could think about was how happy and safe he made me feel.

Especially in front of everyone else.

#my fics #my 2k challenge #sebastian stan smut #smut #sebastian stan #mob au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan reader #sebastian stan reader insert #sebastian stan reader inserts #sebastian stan fanfiction

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silentprincess17 · 2 years

Note

Okay okay okay so have fun with this! 👀🤓

Botw Link & Zelda explore Typhlo ruins, and find something unexpected that stirs memories for them

BRING ON THE ZELINK 🥰 Congrats on 200 followers you talented human bean, you!

BESTIE! Thank you for sending in this wonderful prompt! I'll admit I was stumped at first what could I have them discover in an island that has been ravanged by the dark. And then I realised it didn't have to be one thing... I hope you enjoy what I've done with it!

As always, kindly beta read by @zeldaelmo, @zeldadiarist and @braidy-maidy

Fic Summary

Link and Zelda reach Typhlo Ruins, one of the things Link had missed in his adventure, and our duo explore it together.

A mystery is found, secrets unravel, and the echoes of a past time hidden in the darkness all coalesce.

AO3 Link! (Better reading experience haha) or continue on tumblr below:

Link had decided very early on in life, well the one that he remembered anyway, that climbing mountains was an effective way of transport. Not only was jumping off things fun, but the perspective really helped him to pick out interesting things to investigate further. Half of the time he was distracted enough to just go for it, the other half ended up in a pile of stamps across the Sheikah Slate that he, uh, well. He’d get to them at some point.

Right now, Link was paragliding across the Eldin mountain range, after having discovered the abandoned mine and the shrine hidden in the structure that looked like a crab on the map. He spotted this western range from there and had made his way across, appreciating how he could run up, jump off and paraglide down between the peaks. He was speeding between two halves of Hyrule almost. There was the pervasive grey mist over the Great Hyrule Forest, and from this vantage he could even make out the pink leaves of the Deku Tree. He’d already completed most of that though. He continued on a little further, just to see what was at the map’s edge.

And he spotted an unusually dark blot on Hyrule’s surface in the far north.

It screamed shrine, but it was a fair distance away. Also, he was running low on supplies. Plus… it was very dark. He didn’t have a torch right now, and the only wooden weapon he had to hand was a bokoblin boko bat that probably would fizzle out much too quickly to be of any use. After Eventide, Link had come to realise seemingly isolated spots on the map would probably challenge him in some way, and that darkness seemed pretty intense and unforgiving.

This, it appeared, would have to be one of the things he’d come back for. Once he had better supplies anyway.

And so the dark blob in the far north was forgotten, as he got swamped with the build up to finally facing his destiny 100 years later, completing his quest to free all four divine beasts and finally helping Zelda finish her century long battle.

And then he got caught up with her, in their memories, first old, but that quickly gave way to new ones.

They begun to travel through the land, reacquainting Zelda with the current age, the people and their stories, and sorting things out along the way.

He was initially going to go on a solo final-clear-all-monsters-fight, but he quickly realised that Zelda was proficient with the Light bow; she'd regularly used it during her century-long fight to quell the Calamity. So, it was now something they’d taken to doing together. He never realised how useful having a long range fighter alongside his preferred method of up close combat would be, it was certainly much quicker and more efficient than doing both himself.

Aside from that, they also took to completing things that remained on his… extensive to do list. And because she was Zelda, overachiever and keen to help all, several more got added.

For example, at Kakariko, Zelda helped Cado set up a cuckoo enclosure separate from his house, with an archery stall just next to it, extending into the natural hole in the mountain enclosure. Rola was appeased, Cado was delighted, and they rekindled their relationship. Together Zelda and him played with Cottla a game that was common in a century ago but less so now: Ring of Roses. Zelda also crafted a spice rack and a cutlery board for Koko, alongside a promise to find and document the range of culinary arts across Hyrule for her to try.

In Hateno, he trekked down the hill to the beach, early one morning whilst Zelda took a well deserved lie in, permanently clearing out the monster camp that distrubed Koyin and her sheep. With Purah, Zelda started to burrow beneath the ancient furnace. The idea was to investigate what could drive an eternal flame, and to try to replicate it as a source of sustainable fuel in Hyrule. Whilst excavations were done there, both of them replastered and painted his- no- their house, clearing out the spare piles of things that had simply been shoved under the stairs. A to dothing that he was meant to have sorted before bringing the princess home but… he couldn’t deny that it was cute, seeing her with paint splotches across her face and hands, and that little bandeau she put to keep her hair out of her face when cleaning was very endearing.

Together, they opened the dusty boxes, revealing his family’s mementos and belongings from 100 years ago.

There was a striped kite that he suddenly remembered Aryll and him had flown over Hateno’s fields, one that repeatedly got stuck in the tree by the pond. A loop with a half embroidered scene of saffilina flowers in a field of green… probably was his mother’s. Zelda had gasped at the intricacy. And he remembered she was the one to stitch his tunic right? Maybe… maybe she could finish it? She delicately smoothed her fingertips over the thread that somehow, hadn’t faded with age, and promised to try. There was a quick shotbow that lit up a distant memory of himself, young, barely four, which was the first weapon he had received from his father. The contraption was still intact, still functioning. He put it in the slate, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

Perhaps, what was most surprising were the journals and letters stowed in an ornate casket, some of which were from himself. The paper was faded yellow with age, the ink barely legible, even as they held it under the sun. It felt strange, seeing words from Stone Link 100 years ago, to his family here informing them of his well being. Zelda had a right laugh at how he discretely informed them of his woes with his charge constantly running away, all the way to asking them if he could bring her over to dinner after a trip to the spring. Stone Link’s face may not have been the most expressive, but his letters had a certain charm to them. In them he could see, perhaps, a glimmer of what led to Zelda ultimately standing in front of him that day on Blachery Plain.

They discovered his sister, Aryll, had left a number of letters for him, every 5 years or so, stacked in a pile. In each, she detailed what she had since accomplished, ranging from trips around Hyrule with Epona, clearing out monster camps and setting up explosive barrels so villagers could just repeatedly bomb the camps down every blood moon. She’d travelled to Gerudo Town, became an expert in Gerudo spice and cooking, plus, she became a sand seal champion. (Link secretly envied her record. She’d beaten him by two minutes. Damn it.) Eventually, she came back to Hateno, settled down, and had lived the rest of her life tending to the fields their family had.

The last one, detailing a trip to the top of the hill for the view over Hateno, fresh and bright, was from a decade ago, with nothing after that.

Link’s fingers ghosted over the fine loops and swirls, the only remnant he really had of her. It felt doubly worse that she had never forgotten him, always holding onto the hope he’d come back in time and yet…

He’d cried in Zelda’s arms that night, for the family he’d lost, for the memories no longer his, only quieting when she gently told him that Aryll wouldn’t have wanted him upset over something he had no control over, and she would have wanted him to continue onwards, happy, knowing she had lived a fulfilling life, despite it all.

That moment was perhaps the first, clear-cut division where Link truly felt he, who he was now, not-Stone-Link, had fallen in love with Zelda. Her soul soothed his, so softly, so warmly, how could he not?

Summer soon arrived, bringing with it longer days that shouted out the sadness, and time passed even faster with a trip to the Rito highlands. Zelda was delighted with Kass’s five daughters, and she sang with them, whilst Kass played his accordion and Link recorded the whole thing on the slate. They also met up with Tulin and Teba, still at the Flight Range, and Zelda took to trying out Tulin’s challenge with a swallow bow Teba gifted her. And then Tulin wanted to see them in action together- how many of the targets they could hit. Link was pleased to find they could do them all, instinctively following up on each other and taking over individual sections but teaming up when necessary. Truly, she was the best partner he’d ever had. There was a fluidity to combat with Zelda that didn’t feel like it was something they’d developed over the past few months alone. And so he slipped down the slippery slope some more.

When they landed back on the platform, he’d desperately wanted to kiss her, and she leaned in to reach for his hand- but Tulin had jumped up between them, squealing that he’d never seen anyone clear them all, even as a duo.

That moment passed, and they moved onto bigger quests. Zelda had questions on how Rito Village could expand, seeing as it was effectively built around a narrowing spiral of rock. Perhaps… they could set metal bases in and that would help further expansion?

To sort out whether that would be possible, it was time for a trip to Eldin, to visit the Gorons and their mining facilities. He brought Zelda to the Abandoned North Mine, finally wiping out all the monsters involved, and allowing the Gorons to harvest the rock and gems here again. He ended up taking her on that tour around the mountain ridge, laughing as they raced each other up and down the little hills.

This was so much more fun than what he’d done before.

And then they both caught sight of the black mass in the distance.

It didn’t take much to set the movable teleport button thing to where they were, and paraglide down, swirling around each other, to hit the next little ridge. He stopped there, at the elevated portion, because he didn’t want any stalkoblins to come after them.

They set up camp for the night, and now he relaxed into the double-sized sleeping bag she’d constructed for them to share. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she somehow snuggled closer. He twisted to his side and pulled her closer still, her head on his left arm with his right tight around her waist.

Someday he’d have the courage to kiss her properly.

Some day.

They were at the edge of the smaller ridge, overlooking the murky black of Typhlo ruins. He watched as her gaze flicked between the slate, what she saw in front of her, and to an old book on her lap featuring a… he hovered closer, oh, it was another map. It was pretty much the same except… ah. There were no ruins on this one. It was Kolomo Garrison. Akkala Citadel. Mabe Village. Castle Town. No ruins accompanied their name as it was on the slate.

And with the absence of Tarry Town, Link understood this was a map of Hyrule 100 years ago. Where had she even gotten it- wait- he bent awkwardly to look at the front page. It looked familiar. Hang on. “Is that from our house?”

She startled, as though she suddenly remembered he was there. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes. Yes, it’s from Aryll’s collection actually. You know the book on maps she made- after her travels? Well, she ended up making a pocket-sized edition of maps showing how Hyrule changed… especially after the Age of the…” Her breath caught and sunk down to a whisper, guilt and shame seeping through, “Burning Fields.”

He wouldn’t have any of that. “It’s not your fault, Zelda. If it’s yours, then it’s equally mine. No, scratch that. It’s all the Calamity’s fault.”

“Thank you Link. I know that but… old habits die hard.”

“One day I’ll slap Rhoam.”

“LINK!” But she was laughing now, because he was teasing her, really. He wasn’t entirely sure what to feel about the old man. His diary… it had made Link realise perhaps he’d been over judgemental, gunning hot with hate after witnessing the scene by the balcony. It truly was the Calamity’s fault. Without it… Rhoam wouldn’t have pushed Zelda so hard, and for so long. And yet, personally for Link, his regret… it was just… too late. If Rhoam had cherished and nurtured Zelda, even just a little, perhaps it would have made all the difference.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Zelda stood, “We’re first going to walk around the island of black. Perhaps it’ll give us clues we can use…”

An hour later, her decision proved to be correct when they found a bridge connecting the ruins to the main land mass on the west facing side.

And shortly after that, they crossed through, and the monk started to speak. This was Zelda’s first time in a shrine quest, and she startled as the baritone voice rang out throughout.

"Travellers from beyond these woods, you are now faced with a trial... Find the shrine hidden in these dark ruins..."

It was pitch black, and Link leaned in, swiping up the torch by the weird statue.

“What is this animal Link?! We haven’t seen these before. I do not remember coming across them in the fauna textbooks of Hyrule during my studies but perhaps those are outdated now…”

“I haven’t seen anything like it in the wild either.”

“Oh… Extinct maybe? Hm. It looks a little like Medoh, just with smaller wings. And their beaks are facing opposite directions. How strange. It’s different from the first pair we saw at the start of the bridge. Both of those were facing forward…”

She lit a torch and together they sweeped their arms across the expanse, trying to make out more. “It really is quite dark.”

He looked across to her and realised he couldn’t make out much of her form. And if she accidentally slipped away, as she was wont to do when they were exploring, he might actually lose her. An idea struck him. “Wait, hold my torch.”

He reached into the slate, and pulled out a bunch of Silent Princess flowers. He began by weaving several into her hair, behind her ear, the soft glow lighting up her face a pale blue. He decorated her tunic with the stems, across her belts, and a few down the pockets in her trousers.

In the end, she was incandescent, the teal hue that surrounded her now accentuated with the flower in her name. His heart stumbled a little when she smiled, offered him his torch again, and he was slow on the uptake, too busy admiring her.

It was yet another strike on the now fairly lengthy list of moments where Link realised he was hopelessly in love.

“That’s a good idea! Wait let me- ” She reached for the flowers and did the same for him.

They were a pair adorned in Silent Princess flowers, no longer rare and extinct, but thriving in the wild.

Now that they couldn’t lose sight of each other, they redistributed the torches and slowly progressed forward, swinging the torch in gentle wide circles to capture everything. He’d warned Zelda before, these shrines tended to have hidden threats. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was some kind of monster ambush waiting for them inside.

They reached the entrance of the hollow black, swinging the torch forward into the recess to light up the surroundings in an artificial burnt orange. In front of them loomed two blocks of… stone? He hovered closer to illuminate the swirls decorating the structure, watching as Zelda activated the camera rune and started snapping pictures.

“It’s Zonai. Definitely.”

He shifted an arm, pressing a hand into the swirl. Zelda followed him, fingers just touching his and —

Everything was bathed in a blue green light, akin to that of a luminous stone, the grey rock by their side no longer crumbling and ruined with time, no longer horizontal but huge vertical towers loomed behind them. The swirls were a deeper magenta, fresh and whole, artwork bold and impressionistic imprinted on the sides.

“RUN! Run Link, they’re coming! It’s too soon! I- they- they didn’t say! They’re coming and we won’t- we won’t-”

Blackness surrounded them again, the burnt amber slicing through the vivacious green of seconds prior.

“Did you-”

“Was that-”

“You go first, Zelda.”

“That… It was an iteration of me and you.”

“I had red hair. And a… glowing… green arm.”

“It was… rather strange, I’ll give you that. No chance it could be anyone else though, because I did call you Link. And you had the Master Sword in the opposing arm. Perhaps one of the past Heroes was Zonian.”

True enough, he supposed. Funny, that the sword never showed him memories of a redhead. Maybe he lived too many lives to show them all. “There was… light and…” his fingers traced the swirl again, “this place was still… intact.”

“I wonder how the darkness came to be… equally as important, what do you think we were running from? It didn’t sound… good.”

“These shrine quests all have hidden lessons. In Eventide, it was a question of survival whilst stranded, and scavenging when you are most desperate. I wonder if more memories will crop up… and if the lesson is hidden therein.”

She nodded. “Right. We best get started. There’s a whole island to go through. First, I believe we should go all the way around the edge, and map out our way as we go along.”

She set off on the right, moving straight down to the brown sludge surround the island, and he followed. Huge columns loomed in front of them, the light from the torch too weak to show the tips.

It was strange, the direct opposite of what the vision had shown them. Once, this was a grand building, each column decorated with a monolith of luminous stones at the pinnacle, with more engraved in a spiral down, that somehow seemed to interconnect, thus giving the illusion of a glowing column. Huge swathes of fern-tinged cloth swung from the columns, interconnected and with a soft blue glow from the lights. And now… now only the stark columns remained.

It was a testament to the Zonai that they even survived and yet, Link couldn't stop picturing the grandeur of what it once was and what it was reduced too now. “Oh that’s an interesting point to note Link. There are 2 extra columns on the right, compared to the left…”

They drifted off their course a little, to count them. Zelda stood on one, he jumped through and laid a luminous stone on top of each, reminiscent of how it once was, so it would be easier to make out. His heart lurched in his throat, once he’d left the security of the torches’ light. It truly was disconcerting wandering out in blackness.

At the end, he slowly made his way back to her, and they admired it. “I wonder how the lighting worked…”

“I’ve never seen anything like that in the wild. The closest is maybe the electric rod when you swing it. Even then, that’s green, not the turquoise we saw. And my arm… it seemed to mimic that same process.”

She nodded, and made a gesture that they should continue on. They dropped one torch, and Zelda followed it down, before he dropped his next to hers and clambered to meet her. At the bottom, they walked up through the columns on the ground and —

Red armoured Sheikah, almost reminiscent of the Yiga, merged in the shadows of the building. They were a close band, only twenty or so, no more.

“Do you think the Zonai will protect us? Yes, the Hero is one of them but… but he’s in love with her. Can he betray her family for us? Do you think he’ll do that? It is what is right, of course, but at what cost?”

The huge stone doors pushed open, Redhead Link shoving one, Zelda in a gorgeous silk purple gown pushing the other, with panic mirrored on their faces —

And they stumbled, Zelda gasped, and he had to grip the wall. “Link. Link that’s… that’s what the Sheikah wore before the Yiga. There’s art, of the world 10,000 years ago, before the Sheikah-Yiga split. That… That was the original Sheikah tribe, united.”

Suddenly, Link remembered, “In Impa’s tapestry- the one from 10,000 years ago. That Hero had red hair. He… he must have been the same guy we just saw.”

“Okay, so it’s definitely the world of Hyrule circa the first Calamity. I’m assuming they’re talking about how you were in love with me?”

He wanted to cry or scream or shout or maybe sink into the black shadows not to emerge again. He wasn’t in love with her in the past! It was true for now too! BUT HE HADN’T SAID ANYTHING YET- “Fair assumption. He was definitely Zonian then. And probably, some kind of lead figure. Not sure why he would be betraying you by helping the Sheikah though.”

“Link… There were so few of them. The way they were speaking made it seem like… something had already happened. What if- what if it was the Royal Family who’d done something to them?”

He turned to face the ocean of noir ahead of them. Murky depths that had answers hidden inside. “There’s only one way to find out,” and he gestured to the expanse ahead.

They resumed their trek around the island itself, and on the south of the island, they came across a bridge of sorts, to a small isolated land mass in the centre. It had a lone campfire in the middle, and Link lit it, before suggesting they sit and take a break.

As soon as they sat —

“Are we going up to the skies today, Link?”

“You just want an excuse to be in my arms again.”

She bopped his nose with her finger. “And so what if I was? You wouldn’t deny your Princess?”

He pulled her legs toward him, causing her to squeal as she slipped to the ground, and he tumbled beside her, wrapping himself around her. “Your Hero is tired. Tomorrow I’ll bring you. Or maybe after a nap in your arms.”

“Aw, is he that tired now? The court proved too much for you?”

He nuzzled closer, his nose lost in her hair as he took a deep breath in. “I don’t understand the hypocrisy. We value honesty, courage, and trustworthiness. We do not entertain rumours. I do not understand their double meanings and how everyone assumes everything.”

She kissed him. “Thank you for putting up with it. Only for a little longer I promise. And then we’ll leave, rule from here and not… deal with them anymore.”

“You forget- there’s the Calamity first, Zelda.”

“Oh yes that.”

Their laughter rang out, before the Hero kissed the Princess.

Link sighed. When would he get to kiss his Princess? “Well, this doesn’t exactly match the timeline.”

“No. This was pre-calamity. I’m not sure if you noticed Link, in this memory she was wearing blue? As it stands, unmarried Princesses in the Royal Family wear blue. Once married, you change your colours to something that pays homage to your husbands. She was wearing purple in the previous memory. Likely… a mix of her blue and his red in the Zonian culture. So… they were married by then. Probably post-calamity.”

He nodded, and an awkward silence descended on them. It was strange, sitting on the very spot where their predecessors of 10,000 years had… um… made out.

He pulled open the slate for something to do that didn’t involve staring at Zelda and wishing he possessed an ounce of that red-head’s courage. “Hey, you know it’s technically 8 pm?”

She stared into the darkness. “For once the light matches. Dinner?”

Link pulled out one of his premade dinner boxes (today was rice triangles and a meat skewer), and they theorised a little more about this place. Had the ruins happened due to time or something else? What had happened to that Link and Zelda? Why didn’t the sword have any memories of them?

So they were running to the Sheikah, but why? What was wrong? What were the Sheikah even doing here?

Time passed, and he yawned. She noticed. “Shall we sleep here then? Seems safe.”

They stared at the campfire and the awkwardness of earlier returned. Link understood, from conversations with Zelda, that 100 years ago, their relationship had never really progressed beyond a simple hand hold. Yes, it was deep affection, but it was affection at a distance. Now… well, Link was pretty sure they were past friendship, hell, he wanted to kiss her at least once every 12 hours, and he was certain she felt the same way. The only reason they hadn’t particularly progressed was because of their journey and the sheer number of things going on. Somehow, setting up their little camp today, opening their bedroll, felt awkward suddenly. Maybe because of what they’d seen happen here.

Zelda broke the silence. “Just because they made out doesn’t change anything for us.”

“Right.” He wasn’t quite happy with that statement (he was jealous of Redhead Link; he could admit that freely) but it wasn’t right to do anything about that now. So, he decided for some levity. “Well, most of the time you end up half sprawled across me anyway, so I don't see this as being too different.”

“HEY! You’re the one that wraps me up in your arms!”

“Not like you fight it though.”

“I-You- Just you wait!” And with that, she pulled him to the ground, tackling him supposedly, and he laughed, letting her win. She had become stronger, compared to when he’d first brought her out into the wild.

The fire in her gaze, the way her legs rubbed against his, the strength she had… yeah okay. He had to go to bed now, or he might just kiss her.

He reluctantly pulled her off, and she sighed. “One day I’ll be stronger.”

He was already hers. He would let her win endlessly if he could. “One day.”

The next morning, waking up to complete blackness disorientated them both, and they quickly packed up, lighting the campfire before a quick breakfast of omelette, and setting off again, continuing on their trek around the perimeter.

They came across a strange dragon-like structure, with two luminous stones as eyes. Next was a pile of dried leaves crawling around a seemingly standing dragon head. Link torched the leaves, and it lit up one of those animal things at the top.

“Want to climb up?”

She nodded, and so he held the torches first, handing her them once she was secured on top. He reached, they touched the animal and —

“You see, Zelda, everything on Typhlo has meaning.” Link’s hand draped across her shoulder, his fingers stroking the blue silk, “We have these structures- the owl, a sign of guidance, to show us our way. Even if the Island was covered in the blackness, like it had during our trial, we may yet find our way following the direction it’s beak points us too.”

“You mean to say Typhlo could be covered in black again?”

“One never knows when the cover of darkness might prove useful.”

“You… you really think something will go wrong?”

“Like I’ve said… I don’t understand them, Zelda. I don’t trust them. And neither should you.”

Goddesses this was never going to stop feeling weird. “Pre-calamity again then.”

“And they’ve completed the shrine clearly. But something was already amiss…”

“It really is disconcerting Zelda. I feel like we’ve had conversations like this before. But it’s not me and it’s not you.”

“I know. Was it like this with the sword?”

“Not quite. That was more of a… feeling kinda thing? Like moments in time that left an impression on that Hero, so much that the sword remembered it. It wasn’t anything this cohesive, certainly.”

“I guess now we know what to follow though, once we’ve outlined the edges. Owls… I wonder what caused their extinction.”

“Maybe it was the same thing that ruined this place.”

She shrugged, and they continued on.

Towards the north, several swarms of Keese and a number of Stalkoblins later, they happened across a raised platform with a firerod on its surface, with two small columns each topped with a luminous stone. “I can sense a memory here Zelda.”

She held his hand as they kneeled —

“I need to prepare the spell Zelda. If they can’t see us then they can’t attack.”

“But then we won’t see them either!”

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. We used the Sheikah’s prowess when we needed them. They saved the entire world from the Calamity. You and I both know we wouldn’t have survived without the beasts. It bought us the time we needed for your powers to arise.”

A heavy sigh escaped her. “I know. I know that. I want the best for them too. I can’t believe all that's happened in the brief time we were embroiled in the castle’s labyrinth. I just- you sure you can teleport us all to the skies? It will be a huge strain on you.”

“There is no other choice. We trap the soldiers here, blanket this place in black, and then make our way to the Great Hyrule Forest. No one will dare enter the mists there.”

“Yes. Okay.” She gripped his hands, leaned her forehead on his as they knelt in an altar with billowing beige and green drapes, sand-coloured tiles and soft greenery surrounding them. “How has it come to this Link?”

“Hubris and greed.”

“I never imagined Father would…”

“He is but a pawn to the council. And the court. And people distrust what they cannot understand.” He kissed her tears away, before pulling her into a tight hug. “Come now. We need to start preparations.”

“They were the ones to cast the spell?!” Zelda stood, tugging him up. “Goddesses. What did the King do? It must be to do with the Sheikah. Did he order them to be imprisoned or-or-”

“It was probably something worse. Especially if there were only twenty or so… left.”

Zelda’s face was as white as a sheet. “Do you think they made it?”

“Some Sheikah must have… and I imagine the split happened then.”

“Yes. Half of them sided with the Princess and Hero who saved them. The other half against the Hylians who’d… murdered them in the first place.”

“Why didn’t they act sooner?”

“There must be some reason. I lived in the castle and I have no idea what these labyrinths are. Who knows. Either way, it wasn’t very long but…”

The silence between them stretched, the weight of what happened 10,000 years ago pressed heavily on them. He reached into the satchel, put some wood down and lit the pile with the torch, thus creating a campfire. He then put his torch down, allowing it’s light to dim, and pulled Zelda into a hug. She had already dealt with the grief of a thousand lifetimes. And that hidden message- the beasts buying the previous Hero and Princess time- he was sure she hadn’t missed it.

Her arms wrapped around him, tight. “Hey. Do you want to take a break? We can always come back, you know. It’s… not going anywhere.”

She shook her head. “I must know Link. I must try to remedy the wrongs here. That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? We’re going around and remedying the faults that occurred 100 years ago. I can’t fix all of them but I will try. I do not… I cannot blame the Yiga for what they’ve done if this… if what we think happened actually occurred. We must make amends, Link.”

“Zelda… we-”

She stiffened suddenly. “Goddesses. She saved you in time. I’m sorry I didn’t. I really-” She crumpled to the ground and he swiftly followed, pulling her into his lap.

Goddesses! What?! No, he had to stay calm. Stay calm or it wouldn’t go in. “Zelda, it really… it really wasn’t your fault. I know, I know it seems that way. I know objectively, it seems like if you’d accessed them just a minute earlier, then I wouldn’t have died, and wouldn’t have needed to go into the Shrine, and we could have saved countless lives by taking Ganon out.”

Wide green eyes stared at him, mouth open, but he edged in faster. “In reality, that is not what would have happened. I was at death’s door either way. I would have needed a solid… two, maybe three, weeks minimum to recover minimal strength and capacity. Not to mention the sword was well and truly brittle so who knows if it would have even worked.”

She sniffed, and he continued on. “Plus, by that point, the Guardians would have already ransacked the land and those lives would have been lost anyway. Did you hear what the previous Hero said? They only managed because the beasts bought them time. We didn’t know the beasts would be corrupted Zelda. Every step we made, Calamity Ganon was ten steps in front.”

She was crying properly now, into his tunic, and he could only stroke her hair slowly, the weight of it all sinking in. Link realised then, that Zelda hadn’t yet cried after it all. She hadn’t yet had a chance to process it. She focussed on him, on his memories, on healing him. And when he was happy and whole, she immediately began to push herself to try to fix what she thought she’d broken. In helping others, she ignored her own pain and grief, submerging herself in a sea akin to the blackness surrounding them.

Link felt incredibly stupid for having realised this so late.

He could only hold her, only reassure her in quiet soothing words that he was here. It wasn’t her fault. It never was.

Hours or minutes passed and eventually she quietened. “Thank you. Thank you for staying. I’m sorry-”

“No. We’re not apologising anymore. That’s it. You’ve burdened yourself with guilt for so long. You’re going to stop right there.”

She took a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

When she calmed a little he decided it was time. He’d suppressed this for so long, and for what? Life was short. Just because they were breathing now meant nothing for tomorrow. He of all people should have known that.

“You know, Zelda…I don’t know why the Goddesses choose to test our souls so much. We might think those two had an easier time, but look at what happened to the Sheikah. I don’t, I don’t quite think any of our lives are easy Zelda. But… but you know what they had that we also have?”

She stared at him, wide eyes reflecting auburn in the fire’s glow. “We have each other. I should have told you this from ages ago. I knew it for certain from that night you held me when I cried about my family.”

He stumbled a little. Goddesses he really was about to do this. Deep breath. Courage. Have courage. As Zelda herself had told him, courage didn't need to be remembered... for it was never forgotten. “I love you, Zelda. Your smile is what drove me to kill the Calamity. Not… not destiny, or putting the world at peace.” He stroked her cheekbone, wiped off the fresh tears, “I wanted to be with you again. I wanted you by my side. Like we always have been. And like we always will be.”

She wrapped her arms around him tighter, heaved herself up a little so she could wrap her arms around his neck and burrow down into him. He hugged her back just as strongly, finally feeling lighter after confessing what had been on his chest for months. “I love you too, Link.” A breath later, “there’s no one else I’d rather have with me in destiny’s path.”

Eventually, they stood, held hands, and trekked across the rest of the island. They discovered another chest with a ruby offshore, and several more chests inland when they reached the end of the circumference and began to follow the beaks.

No more memories cropped up, and eventually, they found themselves in a weird enclosure of sorts. It had three sets of the dried leaves, leading up to some kind of face that was hard to hard out in the dark. Link and Zelda split briefly, each lighting one on the edge before coming together to the middle.

As soon as that burnt through, they were sent on another memory —

Shouts echoed, an army’s screams. “Hero! Don’t think you can steal our Princess! We will take her back! Hylia made a mistake choosing you, for Hylia never would have protected-”

Link and Zelda were in the middle of the dragon’s hold, Link was panting hard and heavy. “They’re almost here.”

“But you’re not ready yet! You haven’t regained your stamina-”

“I told you, let me take you up first.”

“And I said I wouldn’t leave you. We’ve faced the Calamity together. We can face a few soldiers.”

“Zelda. Zelda I won’t have the strength to do the spell. It’s either the spell or… our escape. I have to protect my people’s heritage. I need to protect our temples. I can’t just allow them in!”

“Then…” She hesitated. “Wait. I can do the spell. I have a reserve. Start it and then- I’ll try. My light… surely I can…”

Link’s hands simmered black, and it spread to Zelda’s. She began to glow, with a blackness that shrunk out the light. She churned up a huge ball, before unleashing it in a hemisphere not unlike the one Zelda had done in Blachery Field. It spread all around, a blanket of dark sealing them in. Link grabbed her, and using his hand, reached for the sky, whilst the soldier’s raged outside, lost and confused as pandemonium broke out.

“So they did make it.”

He kissed her forehead. “We always do.”

“Do you think I can try to… reverse the spell? We could better commemorate the Zonai and what remains of them that way…”

“We haven’t found the shrine yet. Let’s finish it. Maybe there is one more memory that awaits us.”

Soon enough, they reached the pedestal with the gaping hole and realised it was guarded by a hinox. Why was it always a hinox? Still, a hinox was better than a lynel, he supposed. They lit a stream of campfires around, trying to be as quiet as possible, but it awoke, as Link accidentally snapped a twig.

Zelda immediately aimed at it’s glowing eye, and he swarmed in, using the Master Sword to pummel it’s legs repeatedly. It went down fairly quickly, with Zelda constantly aiming and Link attacking up front. Finally, they moved the orb into the pedestal, watching the shrine arise.

It was only what Link termed a “collecting” shrine, and upon their reassention, they were surprised to find the island was still inky blank.

Before they could move—

Know the crimes committed here

Remember the victims and those who tried to help

Remember the secrets the darkness hides

And know who amongst you are loyal, and with whom hypocrisy is prevalent.

Typhlo will stand as an emblem. Dark in the honour of the souls lost to time.

They stood, head down, hands tight in each other’s grasp.

They wouldn’t forget.

“I think… I think Link, we should bring the Sheikah and… and the Yiga here. I think they ought to know what happened.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Yes. Yes, we should. But first… I think we need to take a break.”

They didn’t teleport out, instead walking back through the darkened alleyways.

Link made a promise to himself as he left. He would help Zelda confront her demons. He would love her just as much as this Hero loved his Princess. And he would do his best to protect all the inhabitants of Hyrule. Just as much as they had once done. Perhaps the wrongs done here couldn’t be righted, the time in between and divisions torn too deep and too festered to truly cure. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t try.

And try he would.

He knew this better than all: everyone deserves a second chance.

#zelink #legend of zelda #botw #botw zelink #zelink fanfiction #breath of the wild #zelda #link #zelink fanfic #the legend of zelda #silent princess #silent writes #botw zelink fic #post calamity zelink #post calamity

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jekde04 · 3 years

Text

Of Sudden Rains and Lasting Promises

Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser) Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Romance Word Count: 2,254 words Summary: She had been fairly good at controlling the rain and not letting her emotions influence it too much. But there were a couple of instances in the past that it went out of hand–and it always involved one person. Just like how it did now. Prompt: Tears (Day 4 of Gruvia Week 2021, but I'm so late I don't want to tag it as such anymore lol) Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics. Tag list (I'm so sorry I totally forgot to tag you in my last few fics!): @shampooneko @fbflame94 @juviaafullbuster @unvalley @gruviaftw11 (Wanna be tagged, lemme know)

She didn't mean to make it rain. But thank heavens it was just a drizzle.

It had been a while since it last happened. She had been fairly good at controlling the rain and not letting her emotions influence it too much. But there were a couple of instances in the past that it went out of hand–and it always involved one person.

Just like how it did now.

Juvia wiped the thin streaks of rain pelting her face. She decided to sit on the park bench right under a big oak tree, but the rain must be getting stronger now because the thick canopy of leaves had become inadequate to protect her. She heard a man curse and remark how annoying the sudden rain was as he hastened to pack up the magazines and newspapers he was selling.

She was the gloomy rain woman once again.

"You shouldn't be out under the rain like that."

A hand holding a familiar pink umbrella appeared beside her, shielding her from the worsening downpour. She didn't need to look to know who it was.

"How did Gray-sama get Juvia's umbrella?"

"You left it in the guild, so I borrowed it for myself," Gray said as he moved to sit beside her, all the while not letting the shade of the umbrella leave her head. He moved his damp bangs away from his eyes and ruffled his hair to shake the droplets off.

"Gray-sama can use Juvia's umbrella. No need to ask Juvia," she muttered. She could feel Gray inching closer to her to make sure they're both under the umbrella, their arms and legs touching.

"I know. I just happened to see you here, and it's kinda unfair to keep the umbrella for myself while the owner is getting drenched."

Juvia looked at him, his chiseled profile matching the perpetual frown on his face. She already knew how handsome he was, yet her heart still beat fast every time she looked at him.

But she also couldn't help that sinking feeling in her chest when she remembered what she overheard earlier. She sighed.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Hmm-mmm," Juvia answered. She wondered if she should ask him or just let him broach the subject. Finally, she decided to just stay in comfortable silence as the rain poured in a steady rhythm.

"Juvia?"

"Yes?"

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

There it is, she thought, but she didn't dare hope. It could be something else.

"Juvia is listening."

A long pause, with nothing but the incessant downpour and the few people out and about being all that they could hear.

"I'm going on a quest with my team." When Juvia didn't say anything, he continued, "It's gonna take a while."

Really, it shouldn't hurt like this. Mages like them go on quests all the time.

But this one was different, she knew.

"Juvia knows. Everyone was talking about it at the guild." She looked at him while he continued to stare straight ahead as if counting each drop of rain. "You're doing Gildarts-san's failed quest, right? The one that hasn't been solved for 100 years."

"Yes."

What was a previously light shower started to transform into heavier rain, bigger drops falling from the sky and making plop-plop noises on the umbrella shielding them. She could feel drops hitting the right side of her body, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before the wetness would start to seep through her thick clothes.

She felt Gray squeeze closer to her and reposition the umbrella to cover her entire body. Glancing at him, she noticed that half of his body was getting drenched by the sudden heavy downpour.

"Gray-sama, you're getting wet," she said as she moved even closer to him, grabbing the umbrella and trying to cover him better.

"Don't worry about me," he told her, moving his arm around her shoulders so that they could fit under the umbrella better. The sudden warm sensation as Gray practically embraced her lit Juvia's pale cheeks with a pink tinge, but she couldn't bring herself to say more to him.

After a few beats, he said, "I'm sorry you had to hear it from other people. I was planning to tell you, you know."

Despite the dark clouds in the sky and her heart, Juvia couldn't help but smile. At least Gray wasn't planning to just leave her in the dark this time, like what he did when he disappeared without a trace for six months. The thought of it made tears well in her eyes, and she hastily wiped them with the back of her hand, lest the rain worsened.

Gray looked at her, concern written all over his face. "Hey, you can say no if you don't want me to leave."

At this, Juvia looked at him, her eyes wide. "What?"

"If you're not fine with it, I won't go."

"Is Gray-sama asking Juvia's permission to go on a mission?" she asked, not believing what she was hearing.

Gray blushed and looked away from her. He shrugged. "Maybe."

"But why?"

"Well, you are..." Gray swallowed, as if a thick lump had formed in his throat. "You are... my… my friend. And what you think is important to me."

She should have been sad to be called just a "friend," but for some reason, Juvia felt warmth spread in her chest. Gray wasn't particularly good with his words, but he always made up for it in his actions.

And now, he was actually considering her feelings. Ready to throw away the chance to go on a once-in-a-lifetime quest if she said so.

"Does Gray-sama want to go?"

His brows creased in thought, and it took him a moment before he answered. "Yeah, I think so. There's a part of me that wants to stay, but a bigger part of me wants to get stronger."

Juvia furrowed her brows as she looked up at him. "But Gray-sama is already very strong. Juvia knows she says this a lot, but you really are one of the strongest mages she knows."

"I'm not planning to be the strongest out there," he said. "I just want to be strong enough to protect the people that matter to me."

Juvia rolled her eyes. "Everyone at Fairy Tail can protect themselves. You have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not talking about Fairy Tail," Gray answered, his gaze darting once again to the empty rain-drenched street. She may just have imagined it, but she thought she saw his cheeks darken as he tightened his grip on her shoulder.

"There is... someone... I cherish. Someone I almost lost before. I don't want that to happen again. I want to be strong, so I can keep her safe."

It was so unusual for Gray to talk about his feelings that it left Juvia dumbfounded. Of course, she didn't want to assume or make Gray uncomfortable, but…

What the hell. He was leaving soon, and she had to let him know how much he mattered to her. One more time.

"Juvia is sure that whoever that someone is, she already thinks Gray-sama is wonderful and more than enough," she said. And in a lower voice, she added, "And she believes that her love for him won't change whether he's the strongest mage on Earthland or just an ordinary man without powers. Because she loves him just the way he is right now."

She sneaked a peek at Gray, whose eyes she couldn't see behind his bangs, but his cheeks had definitely turned a dark shade of red. And maybe it was just her imagination again, but was that a shadow of a smile appearing on his face?

The rain was finally letting up, the dark clouds gradually going away. Yet the two of them remained huddled under Juvia's umbrella. Gray started to subconsciously play with the tips of her hair, curling and uncurling them on his fingers. Not that she minded, though.

"I know that. After all, she's the kindest person I know," Gray said. "That is why I want to be the best version of myself. For her. I don't want to be anything less because she deserves only the best."

Juvia could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but she fought it and willed herself not to boil or turn into a puddle. The dark clouds were all gone now, replaced by the sun's rays taking a peek from the clouds and giving an ethereal sheen to their surroundings.

"Gray-sama is so sweet. Whoever she is, she's one lucky girl."

"Trust me, I'm luckier," Gray said, grinning at her. Then, realizing that the rain had stopped and the sun was out, he closed the umbrella and stood up, stretching his hand for Juvia to grab.

"I guess someone's feeling less sad now?" he asked, and Juvia blushed.

She took Gray's hand, and he intertwined their fingers as they started walking towards Fairy Hills. "How did Gray-sama know?"

"Let's just say I also have a Juvia-radar that tells me when you need a bit of cheering up," Gray told her, and Juvia couldn't help the swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Maybe it was due to their interlocked hands and the way his thumb mindlessly caressed her knuckles. Or perhaps the fact that he was walking her home, though he had been doing that for quite some time now. Or maybe it was because of how well he knew her–and actually cared about her.

It was all of the things he had said and done… and even all the unsaid ones that brought unparalleled joy in her heart. Because she felt… no, she knew that she was loved. Deeply and completely.

But she had to ask him one more thing.

"Gray-sama?'

"Hmm?"

"Can you promise... that certain someone... one thing?"

"What is it?"

"Promise her you'll come back."

Gray chuckled. "Of course. I promise I'll come back home to her, no matter what. I will come back as a man worthy of her love. "

She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, and they continued walking hand-in-hand, no words needed.

They were at the gate of Fairy Hills when Gray spoke again.

"Juvia?"

"Yes, Gray-sama?"

He had stopped walking and faced her. "Wait for me, will you?"

A bright blush bloomed on her cheeks. Gray had always been indirect with her, yet here he was, asking her (and not a certain someone) to wait for him.

As if there would be any other answer.

"Always, Gray-sama."

And, in a moment of boldness, she tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering for a second before letting him go. She caught sight of his reddened cheeks before he turned his face away and awkwardly patted her head with his free hand.

"We won't be leaving until the end of the week, so, um... would you like to... spend some time with me?"

Juvia's eyes sparkled. "Is Gray-sama asking Juvia out on a–"

"Not a date!" Gray quickly interrupted. "Just, um, hanging out with each other since I'm going away and we're not going to see each other for a long time."

Juvia smiled knowingly. Nothing would change her mind that Gray was asking her out on a date, but of course, she would let him believe that they were just "hanging out" if that was what he wanted.

"Let Juvia think." She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a finger on her chin. "Hmm, Juvia wants to eat caramade franks, go fishing–"

"You wanna go fishing? We can do that."

"Really? Juvia's so happy! She was told it's always raining around her, so she can't be taken fishing or camping or–"

"Who said that? That's a load of crap," Gray said, irritated. "Tell me and I'll punch his brains out."

Juvia placed a hand on his arm. "Not important, Gray-sama." She smiled and added, "Tomorrow, then?"

Gray nodded. And before she knew what was happening, she felt Gray pulling her body close to him, her hat yanked away from her head, and Gray's lips suddenly on her forehead. Her hands landed on his bare chest, and she could feel his heartbeat thumping loudly, probably as strong as the beating of her heart at the moment.

It ended as fast as it happened, and she found herself being pushed away by a flustered Gray, mumbling, "See you tomorrow!" As he hurriedly walked away from her, Juvia finally broke from her trance and had enough sense to shout, "Gray-sama, your clothes!"

"Crap!"

Juvia giggled as Gray picked up his discarded clothes and started wearing them, still a bit of pink coloring his cheeks. When he was done, he hastily waved goodbye to her and shouted, "Tomorrow!"

She watched his retreating form until he was no longer within her line of sight. Her heart ached a bit, knowing that he was going away soon, but it swelled with the promise that he would eventually come home to her–a better, stronger, and more confident man.

How that was even possible, she didn't know, as he was already perfect in her eyes. But she also hadn't imagined that she could even love him more, yet here she was, finding herself loving him a little bit more each day as he ever-so-slowly let her into his melting heart.

Clutching her hat to her heart, she entered Fairy Hills.

A/N: I'm still writing Gruvia Week fics? You bet I am! It would be a waste if I don't flesh out those drafts I did before, right? Thank you for still reading my fics. I appreciate them a lot and you inspire me to keep writing. Btw, the fishing thing is a reference to the FT 100 YQ chapter 11 cover. And also to what Bora said to Juvia once. :)

#gruvia #gruvia fanfic #gruvia fanfiction #gray x juvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Words Whispered in the Dark

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6250🙈

Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much.

Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)

A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.

A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).

Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.

Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.

You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.

Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.

Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.

So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.

Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.

Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--

Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.

“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.

Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.

Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.

“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.

Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.

Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.

Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.

Was it?

“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.

Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.

He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.

The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.

A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.

Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.

Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.

“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.

It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.

Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.

It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.

“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.

Fuck. Shit. Okay.

“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.

You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.

“Bed. Now.”

Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.

It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.

He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.

“What is it, babygirl?”

His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.

You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”

His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.

“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.

You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.

“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.

Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.

“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.

Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.

Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him. You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.

Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.

It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.

“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.

“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.

“Or what?”

He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.

“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.

“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.

“I don’t follow--- oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“

You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.

“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”

“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.

“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“

“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”

From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.

“Uhm… Waterloo?”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.

You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.

“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.

Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.

“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”

“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”

“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.

“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.

His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.

“You changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.

“Fuck-“

“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.

Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.

You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.

“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.

Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…

Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.

You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.

As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.

You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.

Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.

When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.

Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.

The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.

Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.

Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.

“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.

“Shit, sweetheart-“

The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.

Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.

Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.

“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.

“Christ- don’t stop--“

“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.

Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock--- if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.

So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.

“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.

You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.

“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”

“You little-“

His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.

Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.

A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”

Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.

Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.

Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.

So fucking pretty like this.

And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.

Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.

Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.

Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.

“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.

The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.

“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.

Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.

“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.

He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.

You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.

Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly. You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.

You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.

For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.

Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.

Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.

“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”

Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.

You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.

He was wrong.

“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.

“Babygirl—”

“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”

He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.

You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.

“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“

You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.

Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.

You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.

He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.

Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.

Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.

If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.

You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.

You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.

Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.

You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”

A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.

“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”

“W-what?”

“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”

Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.

Fuck.

You were so busted.

Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.

Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?

Right. No.

Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.

Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.

Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.

“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.

“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.

You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.

“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.

“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”

Oh fuck, here it came.

For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.

It’s only fair, no? he had said.

It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.

Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.

Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.

“Y—yes, it is.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”

And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.

He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”

His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.

Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.

“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.

“Y- yes.”

“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.

Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.

And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.

Attached masterlist

S.R. masterlist

I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.

But I hope you enjoyed anyway. I mean, if you made it to the end…

Thank you for reading :-*

Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann

P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #professor steve rogers #LEMONS #mind the warnings #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america au #college au #modern au #wrong attachment au #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #attached #words whispered in the dark #anika ann

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kythed · 3 years

Note

I have a fic request for Kuroo! A childhood friends to lovers situation based off the song Take my Hand by Picture This! (Just a cute song that has been haunting me because Kuroo ❤️)

I have been through and stalked your blog and I love it! I also saw the ficmas prompt list and I’m looking forward to requesting those too!

I hope this is okay and thank you so much! Your stuff is a joy to read! ❤️❤️❤️✨✨✨

take my hand

kuroo tetsurou x reader

hope you enjoy <3

five.

“You’re my best friend,” he tells you, swallowing the heart that keeps straining to burst from his throat, to lay itself at your feet in all its humiliating devotion. “Of course I love you.”

And he does love you, he reassures himself, letting you walk ahead of him. Just not in the way you think he does. He struggles to keep his eyes above your waistline, tearing his gaze from the hem of your skirt and pointedly pinning it to the back of your head, where your hair is loosely tied with a glossy silk ribbon. His efforts succeed for nearly thirty seconds before he again finds his eyes tracing their way down your neck, down your back, down to the arch of your waist and the flare of your hips, relishing the curve of your--

Damn it. He abruptly stops in his tracks, rubbing his eyes until he sees only stars. (Maybe if he rubs his eyes with enough vigor he’ll stop noticing things he shouldn’t notice while looking at his best friend.)

“Tetsu,” you say, turning around with a laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly, blinking hard.

He’s not fine.

four.

Life is painful when you’re in love with your oldest, dearest friend. Let Kuroo Tetsurou be the first to testify that when you’ve grown up with someone your entire life, when you’ve made the long, tedious trek from diapers to graduation gowns with them, it feels almost sinful to find yourself slipping into daydreams about pressing that person against your wall, about hearing them whisper your name on soft linen sheets, about kissing them breathless and glassy eyed until the sun plunges beneath the horizon with a brazen wink.

He hates himself for staring at you and hoping to catch you staring back. He hates himself for letting your words wash over his head, unheard, in favor of watching the way your lips curve and curl when you speak.

Most of all, he hates himself for loving you so fiercely in a particular way that would surely sour your stomach and send you running.

“I love you too,” you say, waiting for him to catch up and fall into step beside you. You take his hand and lace your fingers with his as you make your way up the street to your house. The windows glow a domestic orange, dimly illuminating the patch of asphalt before your front door.

It’s nearing seven now-- the gentle clinking of silverware and some sort of faint, savory scent from within inform you of dinner’s impending commencement.

“I know,” he says, cracking a crooked smile. You roll your eyes as he brushes a mocking kiss over your knuckles. “I’m hard to hate.”

three.

Most of the summer passes uneventfully, according to Kuroo’s standards. He manages to keep himself in check, even as he spends each and every day with you, dawn til dusk, savoring your presence the way a starving man savors his last ration.

He manages to treat you almost exactly as he’s treated you his entire life-- like a best friend. He tells his silly jokes that make you giggle and groan simultaneously. He pushes you off the pier when you least expect it, howling with laughter as you resurface, sputtering and flinging fiery invective. He shares an earbud with you as he walks downtown with you by his side, arm slung over your shoulder with carefully calculated composure.

He almost makes it to autumn without incident.

The small, hidden moments are what gives him away, though, layered within false nonchalance and easygoing grins like brightly painted matryoshka.

The way his chest constricts almost painfully when you laugh at a pun he’s ad-libbed on the spot, sending a flurry of butterflies freewheeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It really wasn’t that good,” he chuckles, tenderly watching as tears of laughter prick at the corners of your eyes and you grip his forearm in an attempt to steady yourself as giggles rack your body.

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree, struggling to catch your breath. “It was awful, and that’s what made it so funny.”

(He makes about a dozen more puns that day, feeling like he’s won the lottery whenever you so much as smile at his pitiful attempts at wordplay.)

The way his hands tremble when you turn around and ask him to tie your bikini string before you jump into the lake, the way he bites his lip so some horribly incriminating comment about how he really thinks you’d “be better off without the bikini at all” doesn’t slip out from his mouth.

“Thanks Tetsu,” you chirp after he ties the string around the back of your neck in a neat double-knot. You give him a wink and take off towards the water, kicking up sand in the process. “Last one in buys lunch!”

(He was already planning on paying anyways.)

The way he sits up a little straighter when you lean over and slip a hand under his arms to press ‘skip’ on his phone while you listen to his playlist-- you’re so close he can smell your lip balm.

“Sorry,” you say, smiling apologetically. “I don’t really like that band.”

(Later that evening, Kuroo goes through his Spotify and deletes every single song from that band he has on all of his playlists.)

Yes, he manages to keep himself in check outwardly. But inside, he can feel himself digging his grave a little deeper with each passing day. He watches the sands of summer run through his fingers with the dread of a man counting down the days to his funeral.

He just knows that one of these days he’s going to slip.

two.

He’s right, of course. There’s only so much emotional torment one person can humanly endure. It’s just that he’s hoping he can extinguish this inconvenient, one-sided flame before August comes around. Maybe then everything can go back to normal, whatever normal might entail.

Needless to say, Kuroo’s hopes are dashed before summer comes to a close.

It’s a sticky July evening when you and he drive out to an empty parking lot at the edge of town, a blanket and an old transistor radio in tow. You’re wearing a pale yellow sundress that falls to just above your knees-- he’s glad it’s not any shorter, and that the breeze isn’t quite strong enough to lift your hem.

“I think I can see Orion’s belt,” you say, pointing towards somewhere far into the cosmos. Kuroo squints, trying to follow your finger.

“I don’t think that’s Orion,” he says. “Looks like a cat to me.”

The two of you are sitting on a blanket spread across the hood of his car, craning your necks to make out vague shapes in the stars. Between you, slow, muffled music trickles out from the radio’s small speakers, some sort of vintage tune from the forties.

“How in the world are you seeing a cat?” You shake your head, giving him a hard poke on the shoulder. “Looks more like a swarm of astral bees than anything.”

“Astral bees,” he repeats with a laugh. “Laziest constellation interpretation I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not lazy,” you protest. “It’s accurate.”

Kuroo just smiles and shrugs, sneaking a glance at you. Your face is bathed in milky starlight, eyes wide as you peer up at the cloudless sky with a blend of wonder and appreciation. There’s some competition, but he thinks this might be the prettiest you’ve ever looked in a single moment.

As if you can feel his stare, you turn to catch his gaze. A gentle smile breaks onto your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with the endearing shyness of a schoolgirl. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, mirroring your grin. “You just… look nice right now.”

“No, seriously,” you laugh disbelievingly. “Is there something on my face?”

“I am being serious,” Kuroo insists, fidgeting with the blanket beneath his palms. “You look good. Yellow suits you.”

You flush, glancing down at your dress. You bought it two summers back, and he’s seen you in it a million times before. This is the first summer where he’s really seen you, though. “Well, thank you. It’s a warm night, so I figured I was better off in a dress than pants.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, breaking eye contact to squint up at the stars. He grins and points, finger trembling slightly. “I think I can see where you’re coming from, with the bees.”

one.

A staticky, syrupy waltz comes on the radio, bleeding into the cracks in the comfortable silence. You sigh contentedly, leaning back onto the windshield. “I like this song. It’s… nostalgic.”

Kuroo cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’ve heard this before?”

“No,” you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “But it reminds me of times gone by, you know? Like, this is the sort of music I imagine playing when a soldier reunites with his wife after the war.”

“When he comes running out of the train and drops his bags on the platform,” Kuroo continues, watching you carefully, “only to sweep his girl off her feet and spin her around wildly.”

You nod, sneaking a glance at him. “You really know me that well, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes crinkling with humor. “But I get it, too. It has that old fashioned romance thing goin’ on.”

“Mhm,” you agree. You reach over and fiddle with the radio’s volume, turning it up just enough to round out the sound completely.

Kuroo sits for a moment, watching you close your eyes and hum along to the music. Then, a sudden boldness taking the reins, he hops off the hood and walks over to you, extending his hand. “Take it.”

“What?”

“Take my hand,” he insists, so you do, gingerly placing your palm atop his. “We’re going to dance.”

“Oh, no,” you laugh, nonetheless letting him help you down from the car and resting a hand on his shoulder. He lightly places his own on your waist, leading you out into the parking lot. “You know I can’t dance.”

“I can’t either,” he reminds you. “But I want to dance with you right now.”

As you begin to sway slightly to the music, Kuroo pulls you a little closer to his chest, letting his chin brush the top of your head. “Why are you into that whole idea?”

“What idea?” you ask quietly, letting him lead you in slow circles around the lot.

“The idea of an old fashioned love.”

“Oh,” you say, laughing as Kuroo spins you in his arms, catching you before you stumble. “I’m not sure… maybe because it seems more constant than love today. Like, today, if you tell someone you love them, it’s a compliment, not a promise. But back then, it was a vow. It meant something.”

Kuroo swallows, looking down at you. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, threatening to burst out of his temples. I’m about to do something I might regret.

zero.

“I need you to do something for me,” he says, voice low and thick with caution. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please,” he says, voice breaking. He knows that if he doesn’t do this now, he never will. You look beautiful to him in this moment, dancing with him in the empty parking lot to the faint melody of an old waltz. Your eyes glisten with life, your lips gently parted, hair slightly curling over your cheeks.

You roll your eyes once but nonetheless close them obediently, relying a little more on his arms to steady you. He swallows. “Okay. So, imagine we’re living in the 1940s.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling slightly. “I’m imagining.”

“Imagine I enlisted in the war, and I just got back home. Imagine you’re waiting for me at the train station.”

“Mhmm,” you say, trying your best to envision the platform. “You look good in that uniform, Tetsu.”

He chuckles. “I look good in anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, squeezing his hand. “Get on with it.”

“Imagine I come sprinting out from the train and you’re waiting there with open arms. This song is playing on the platform speakers. I ask you to dance just like we are now.” Kuroo watches you grin, feeling his heart flutter. “Then, imagine I tell you something.”

Unconsciously, you shift closer to him, almost pressing your body flush to his. A breath hitches in his throat. “What do you tell me?”

He leans down, brushes his lips against your ear. “I love you.”

You open your eyes, head cocked, slight confusion cloaking your features. “You mean, like…?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. I mean, like, I love you. Not just in a friend way. In that old fashioned way you were talking about. I love everything about you. I’m in love with everything about you.”

“Tetsu…” you breathe, searching his face. He gazes down at you seriously, not a trace of humor tainting his stare. He takes a deep breath.

“I love the way your hair falls in the summer. I love your stupid, annoying laugh. I love how your hand fits in mine. I love the way you rant about anything and everything and expect me to listen, and I do because I can’t help but get excited about what you get excited about. I love you like a soldier loves his wife,” he says, the words flowing out like a river bursting from a dam. “I love you so much it hurts, and it scares me, and I’m sorry if this ruins stuff between us, but I just had to--”

“Shut up.”

He blinks, mouth gaping. “I-- what?”

“I said,” you whisper, gripping the back of his neck and guiding his face down to yours. “Shut up, Tetsu. You talk too much.”

Then suddenly you’re kissing him, and he can’t believe it, but he kisses you back like it’s what he was born to do. He lets you crash your lips into his and watches as shooting stars burst forth and the planets align. Somehow, your hands find their way up into his hair, tangling themselves in his dark locks, and his own travel down to your lower back, pulling you as close as humanly possible, so tightly he never wants to let go. He revels in the warmth of your skin, the icy, tingly sensation of your lips, and when you pull back, it’s all he can do to refrain from pulling you right back in again.

There’s a brief silence. His lips are swollen, his lungs are devoid of air. “I… wow. Just, wow.”

You grin wickedly, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while now.”

“You have?” he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. “I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you laugh. “You were too worried about not letting me notice you staring at my ass every chance you got.”

Kuroo flushes but gives a sheepish smile, massaging the back of his neck. “You know, I really thought I was being smooth about it.”

As it turns out, you love him back. And not just in the best friend way. You love everything about him, his stupid jokes, his loud, booming laugh, his teasing, his smile, his successes and his failures. You love how your hand fits in his. You love that it took him years and years to admit to himself that he loved you, too.

Kuroo Tetsurou may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s certainly the only one you want. And you’re certainly the only one he wants.

And that’s really the most you could ever ask for.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsurou headcanons #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsurō x reader #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #friends to lovers

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Regrets // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1557

warnings // angst, mentions of abusive relationships (not details)

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader, Ethan Torchio x Platonic!Reader

author's note // taglist here. please only let me know if you want to be tagged on that google form so i know what to tag you on, thank you

I KNOW I MADE HER LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE BUT MY ANGSTY ASS NEEDED SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO BE ABLE TO WRITE THIS FIC SOOO... I LOVE VICTORIA, I DON'T THINK SHE'S AN ASSHOLE AND THE WHOLE I BULLY YOU MEANS I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU TROPE IS STUPID IN EVERY OTHER OCCASION BUT IN FANFICTION ITS FINE

also i changed the original tittle because i didnt like it that much

request // yes

summary // Reader is Ethan's best friend and because of that they are around the band a lot. Maybe a hint of jealously, a toxic partner and a visit at the hospital will be enough to change their relationship with Victoria from hate to love. Or maybe the love was there all along.

The first time the two met each other was right after the band finally united. Y/N’s had been Ethan’s best friend for years now, making the fateful meeting inevitable - as well as the obscure amount of time they would have to spend around each other. If anything, the drummer was attached to the hip with his best friend, tagging them along to every show, many rehearsals (there was even a suggestion to come with him on Måneskin’s European tour - it would be a nightmare if they did).

Victoria did not take long to adopt a defensive mode against them, one that not even she could decipher. Maybe it was the way they were just always there, like leech attached to her bandmate, or maybe it was that annoying way they dressed, all out there and attracting her attention, or maybe it was that stupid girlfriend of theirs that just had to make it known they were a couple. She really did get on Victoria’s nerves a awful lot. She was nice, not going to lie, just maybe a little too nice - ickly nice, she’d say. She wasn’t sure why but that girl simply made Victoria’s gut drop every time.

For years, as that relationship lasted, Victoria and Y/N would butt heads, always at each other’s throat with something to say and complain about. What are they doing here again, the bassist would ask over and over again. Just here to piss you off, Y/N would say, walking to Ethan. Other times it’d be the opposite. It just always was… a mess.

Everyone could see the situation the two found themselves into but no one could do anything. No, not until they opened their own damn eyes.

The dislike between the two only grew stronger and stronger as time passed by, with their insults getting worse. Truth be told, no one expected it to get that bad, and now they just hoped to stop.

For a while, Y/N was facing some drama in the relationship, some that could end up pretty bad. Not few were the nights Ethan would get a phone call in the middle of rehearsal, sobbing heard even beyond his phone. Please, please come get me Ethan. I don’t think …. The rest was inaudible for Victoria, not that I care, she would remind herself, moving on with her work.

On occasion she’d joke about it to Y/N. What? Trouble in paradise, cucciolo? Oh well. Deep down she knew she should not say that but she could not control herself. Y/N was pretty put together some of those times, others they’d just snap with no regard to anything. Just shut your fucking mouth, they said once adding a few profanities to explain their anger.

After the fourth time it happened the blonde had gotten genuinely angry. “Ok, enough. Close your phone, Ethan,” she spat out, almost snatching it off his hand. “They can wait.”

“But-”

“No! They have cut short three out of our four rehearsals this week! This is the fifth rehearsal, Ethan, their fourth time! They’re a big kid now, they should not need you all the time.”

In time she would regret those words but in that moment they seemed appropriate. She had grown exasperated at their constant interruptions. Well, most of the time they were not really disturbing - they’d call on a break or just cuddle with Ethan on a break, at a time they had for the solemn reason of relaxing - but Victoria would not admit that. Not to herself and not to anyone.

“Ok.” Ethan whispered the words, silencing his phone with a heavy heart. He had a bad feeling, that he knew for sure, but he did not feel like fighting with the blond bassist.

The hours they worked passed by quickly, feeling more like quick moving water, their session was simply flowing. It was now quiet, maybe around three in the morning. 2.58 AM read the clock on the table. Ethan was sure his best friend was sleeping by now. He’d shoot them a text and then go to sleep as well - lord knows he needed it. Well, not everything always goes as planned.

Victoria was by him when it happened.

His phone started to ring while he was about to walk to his room. Y/N. If he was not concerned earlier that night there was no way he was not now. It was not common for them to call at hours like this, if anything they were usually asleep by eleven, maybe even twelve.

“Pronto. Che? A- cazzo, sì, sì. Sto venendo ora.” showing off my italian lol

“Ethan? What happened?” She was not sure of her feelings in that instant. Why was she even asking him? She did not care about them, right? But no, no, it was not worry. It was fear of guilt. And worry, but that she was not aware of.

“Y/N is at the hospital,” he breathed out, “they- uhm… Their ex hurt them - thank god their neighbor was there and heard what happened. Oh my- if-if-if he was not there Y/N-”

Victoria could not stand seeing her friend like that. She believes that she’s never once seen Ethan this emotional - not negatively emotional, that is. He always keeps his composure so well but this time it just was not possible. The blonde just stood there now, holding Ethan in her arms, whispering comforting things to him, hoping that he’d calm down a bit.

“I-I should’ve answered the phone Vic… It- I could have prevented this. Oh god, it’s my-”

“Ethan no! If it’s anyone’s fault here, it’s mine. I should not have snapped like I did.”

“I- yeah. Yeah, you know what, yeah, it is your fault.” He was sad, he was anxious, he was angry… A whirlwind of emotions really, and Victoria’s statement made him target it to her. “It is your fault Vic, with that-that stupid, stupid, conflict you two have. I’m leaving.”

“Where are yo-”

“To the hospital! Where the fuck else?” Ethan’s voice was rising by the second, as his blood started boiling in his veins. He knew he could not drive there, but he was not about to say it.

“I’ll drive you-”

“No. I can do it on my own.”

“Please. It’s the least I can do.” Victoria’s eyes were cast to the floor, unsure of what else to do. She knew that things were taken too far this time, the least she could do was drive her friend to the hospital.

The drive there was quiet. Neither knew what to say. Victoria was feeling guilty, afraid, and even worried about Y/N’s well-being, regardless of whether she could she tried to focus on the road. More injured people would not be helpful. Ethan on the other hand was fuming. He was angry out of his head; at his blonde friend, at himself and most of all that bitch, Y/N’s ex. She was the one to cause all of this, all of it, even problems he was not aware she was the cause of.

As they arrived there there was even more trouble on their way. He’s not family, he’s not a spouse, neither is Victoria. It was always like that. They would not let them pass if they were not either of those things but, god bless that man, the nurse that called him showed up, recognizing the voice and assuring the nurse, on the front, that he was indeed the only person on their emergency contacts, they had to pass. With a lot of complaining they were finally let to pass.

When they walked in the room Y/N was laying on the bed asleep and at first both their minds went to the worst case scenario. “I have given them some painkillers for now. They’ll be ok but some injuries cause severe pain -” he was walking outside along with Ethan.

Victoria was now left alone in the room with Y/N, although it felt as if she was looking at a photo of them rather than the real life Y/N. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say, the only thing that felt right to do at that moment. “It’s my fault -oh my it is! Ethan, he-he wanted to respond to the call by I-I got so angry!” She cried out, now grasping Y/N’s hand. “I can only hope he can forgive me. Hell, I hope you forgive me. It’s my fault you’re-”

“It’s not, Victoria.”

“You are awake?”

“It’s not your fault. I was already here when I called the first time. Neither of you could have changed a thing.” They were so calm - maybe it was the painkillers, she thought. “Thank you. For the apology I mean.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry for everything Y/N. I-”

“Hey, stop! It’s ok. What’s by is by,” they laughed, never missing the opportunity to joke. (you know, bi - by… terrible pun)

“I, uh,” she paused, thinking of what to say next. She remembered a small chocolate bar in her pocket. She was about to eat it when the call happened. “I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat chocolate but I know you like it.”

“Oh my, it’s my favorite,” they gushed, prompting Vic to come closer.

“Come, sit, sit! We can share it.”

“Yeah, I guess we can.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

#måneskin #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin x reader #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis imagine

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Nightmares- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: After watching The Devil All the Time with Tom and the boys, you have a nightmare and Tom comforts you.

Word Count: 1300

Warnings: The Devil All the Time spoilers (nothing explicitly graphic though); swearing; lots of talk about Tom’s ass in those jeans; slight discussion of abuse

A/N: This is a part of @hollandsrecs ‘s 1k fic bingo for the trope “Slice of Life”... Also, at the time I wrote this, I had not seen the film.

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Popcorn’s ready.” Tom announced, coming into the living room with a few bowls of the favored snack food, handing them out to Tuwaine, Harrison, Harry, and Sam who were all scattered about the couches, before he sat down on the loveseat with you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you snuggled into his side, stealing a couple pieces of popcorn from the bowl.

“And now to watch you run around and kill people for two and a half hours.” Harrison laughed as he picked up the remote to start the movie.

“That’s not all I do.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you smoke cigarettes too. Can’t forget that.” Harry teased. “It’s like Peter Parker joined the dark side.”

Tom grabbed a few pieces of popcorn, throwing them across the room at his brother, who opened his mouth and managed to catch one of the pieces. Calling his attention away from Harry, you pressed a kiss to Tom’s cheek as the movie began.

“I can’t wait to see your ass in those jeans.” You whispered to him playfully, making him chuckle.

“Darling, you see that ass in jeans all the time.” He joked, and you turned away from him to face the movie.

“Maybe I just can’t get enough of it.” You teased. You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking proudly.

When you had agreed to watch Tom’s newest film, The Devil All the Time, with him and the rest of the boys, you thought it was a good idea. You had even been on set with Tom for a majority of the film, so you thought you had a good understanding of the violence in the film. Key word: thought.

It was a cinematically beautiful film, no doubt, and, of course, you loved your boyfriend’s performance in it, but some scenes were intense. While you felt comforted in Tom’s warm embrace, there was still an uneasy pit in your stomach as the movie played on.

“So, thoughts?” Tom asked, almost nervously while the credits rolled.

“Very badass.” Harrison acknowledged.

“Still can’t believe you killed Edward Cullen.” Tuwaine commented, and Harry nodded his head in agreement.

“And Bucky.” Sam added. Tom rolled his eyes at them and turned to look at you in his arms.

“I always knew you were secretly team Jacob.” Harrison teased.

“What’d you think of it?” While Tom genuinely cared what the others thought of his movie, your opinion mattered the most to him.

“It was great.” You reassured him, biting back your discomfort, “Your accent was pretty hot in it, too.”

“Why, thank you, darling.” Tom said, switching into his southern accent with ease and making you roll your eyes at his cheesiness.

The film talk continued for another hour with the boys argued over characters and themes and accents, just everything. Meanwhile, you sat there, cuddled up to Tom, as your mind silently played over a few select scenes, unable to get the unspeakable images out of your head. You reasoned that it was all fake; hell, you’d even seen most of those scenes be filmed.

That night, your mind kept returning to the film, replaying the scenes over and over in an even more dramatic and gruesome way. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, trying to focus on Tom’s soft snores and steady breaths to calm your mind, but, when sleep finally overcame you, it did little to help your mental battle.

Tom woke up with a start when he heard you let out a yelp. He was about to jump into action and (very blearily) fight off whoever was harming you, but he softened as he realized you were asleep right beside him. Not only was your yelp alerting, but you were also clutching onto the pillow for your dear life, not peacefully cuddled up to Tom. As he looked at your face, twisted up in distress, he felt his heart sting with worry.

“It’s not real, it’s not real.” You kept mumbling to yourself over and over in despair.

“Y/N, baby, wake up.” Tom started to shake your shoulder gently, trying to pull you from your nightmare. After a moment, your eyes fluttered open. As soon as you registered that you were awake and that Tom was in front of you, you let go of the pillow and hugged him tightly. Rubbing your back soothingly as you cried into his bare chest, Tom comforted you, “It was just a nightmare. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

He kept repeating his words until he felt you begin to breathe steadily again. Feeling the slightest bit calmer, you pulled away from him and slid out of the bed. Tom watched as you maneuvered around the dark room, the only light coming from the alarm clock on his bedside table. You went straight for the box of tissues to wipe your eyes. Leaning over to turn on the table lamp that sat upon the nightstand beside him, he asked, “Do you want to talk about?”

“Not really.” You answered quietly as you climbed back into the bed. “I’m fine, just go back to bed.”

Refusing to believe your words, Tom softly took your hands in his, his thumbs grazing over your skin mindlessly.

He didn’t particularly want to ask his next question, but he was far too concerned about you to care, “Was it the movie? Was it me?”

“It wasn’t you.” You reassured him, but when you saw the worried frown still etched on his lips, you let go of his hands and shuffled into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer to him. “Tom, I promise I didn’t have a nightmare about Arvin murdering me.”

“Why’d you put that thought in my head?” He asked in disbelief and you laughed lightly, shaking your head at him.

“I don’t particularly remember what my dream was, but it wasn’t you. I was already on edge because of the Carl and Sandy scenes and then Lenora—“ You shivered a little, trailing off, and his thumbs began tracing soft circles on your hips through the thin material of your sleep shirt.

“If you didn’t like the movie, why didn’t you say?”

“No, I did like the movie.” You moved a hand up to push his loose curls off his forehead, running your fingers through his hair, “It’s a really good movie, and you should be proud of yourself because you were phenomenal. It was just too intense for me, and my subconscious got the better of me while I was sleeping.”

“You know I’d never hurt you, right? Never.” Tom said, seeking his own comfort now as he still pondered on your previous comment about his character.

“I know.” You smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him. As your lips moved against his, it took him a minute to actually kiss you back.

“We should probably get back to sleep.” He mumbled, groaning a little as he pulled his lips away from yours. He looked over at the clock to see it blindingly tell him it was nearly 1:30 in the morning.

“I’m still a bit shaken up. I don’t know if I can fall back asleep now.” You answered truthfully. Tom’s hands made their way down to the hem of your sleep shirt.

“I can think of something to distract you.” He smirked, and you playfully rolled your eyes at his cheekiness, “You spent two and a half hours ogling my ass in jeans.” He switched into his southern accent again, “Don’t you wanna see this ass in person?”

“You’re so weird.” You laughed, cupping his cheeks to bring him in for another kiss.

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker

Tom Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

#hrficbingo1k #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic

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movieexpert1978 · 3 years

Note

Oooh if you’re still doing fanfic prompts, would you write anything for Doc Ock? Cause I would like to request the hurt/comfort part 2 either 4 or 8 with him

Hello anon !!! I finally got a story written for you!!! I hope you enjoy it. I went with #4 "You don't have to be so brave when you're with me." The list is posted by @creativepromptsforwriting

There is some angst here, mention of character death, violence, blood and swearing. The perfect Doc Ock fic, lol. I hope you enjoy it.

Different Stages

She had met him more by accident when she had just finished a job. She was tucking her rifle away when she heard a constant thudding. It reminded her of the T-rex arrival in Jurassic Park. She kept her gun out as he arrived. She had seen the papers and he was the infamous Doctor Octopus as they had labeled him. Two mechanical arms were on the ground while the other two hung around his shoulders protectively.

“Are you going to shoot me?” He asked curiously.

“No, I don’t kill people for free.” She shrugged, lowering the rifle. He took off his sunglasses to look at her.

“You don’t look like an assassin.” He said.

“I know Doctor. That’s why I do it.” She smiled. An eyebrow arched curiously at her comment. “So just passing through?” She asked.

“Actually yes.”

“Well Doctor I won’t keep you. Have a nice day.” She said before leaving.

“Yes that was weird.” Otto said to the arms. There a few more encounters like that until he finally got her one quiet night.

“Are you stalking me Doctor?” She teased.

“Call me Otto.” He answered. “And…yes I supposed I am because I would like to know your name.”

“Call me Evee.” She answered.

“Like the Pokémon?” He asked surprised.

“Oh nice…you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” She smirked.

“I’ve got a lot more time on my hands.” He shrugged.

“My full name is Evelyn, but I prefer Evee since I always have to change my look at times for a job.” She said, showing a wig. Her hair was short but had some dark orange highlights in it.

“Why the orange?”

“Fall is my favorite season.”

“It’s September.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re a Christmas person?” She huffed.

“No I prefer summer.” He stated.

“Hey if they can do fucking Christmas in July and have Christmas trees out at the end of September then I sure as hell can do my Halloween at the start of August.” She said defensively. Otto let out a genuine good belly laugh.

“Fair enough. That’s true.” He chuckled as he walked closer to her on his own legs.

“Why the sunglasses?”

“My eyes were damaged in an accident.”

“Oh that failed energy fusion thing?” She asked.

“Yes.” He nodded quietly. He noticed her eyes were an interesting shade of green. The arms stared at her curiously as well. One inched up to her and she held out her hand. It nudged it and she traced her fingertips along the metal.

“Are they alive?” She asked.

“In a sense yes, artificial intelligence.” He explained. “They’re surprised you’re not scared of them.” He added.

“I’ve seen people do a lot worse.” She shrugged.

“Is this your style, hanging on roof tops and shooting people?”

“It’s the most effective method.” She answered. “And I’m quite good at it.” She winked. “Can they come off?” She asked pointing to the arms.

“No.” He turned around and showed her the outer spinal column that had been fused into his spine. “That happened during the accident too.” He said before he turned around.

“Ouch, I’m sorry.” She said with sympathy, but he only shrugged.

“I can do a lot more now.” He said. “So Evee, do you live in the city?” He asked.

“Why ? You want a date?” She teased. He actually blushed.

“No, I just wanted to ask since we keep running into each other.” He said quickly.

“Well yes I do.” She smirked. She took out a notepad and wrote something on it. She walked over and put it in his coat pocket. “If you ever want to drop by.” She winked before she left.

Xxxxxxx

The October chill was starting to come and things were getting wet with the rain as well. Evee had finished another job and she started to walk home. Her rifle concealed in it’s long back pack. She stopped and sniffed the air. “Mmmm…rain is coming.” She said. She also noticed the smell of bad after shave as she started walking again. She knew she was being followed as the rain started to fall. She walked down a few back alleys she knew and tucked her rifle in a corner she knew wouldn’t be disturbed. She walked calmly as her other two guns hung on her hips under her long jacket. It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps. She wouldn’t be surprised if more people pooped out so she had to keep her eyes open.

“Fuck it.” She whispered to herself. She spun around with her guns and started shooting. She took out two before more men charged at her from the sides. She ducked and spun around one guy, using him as a shield as his companions still fired and killed him. Evee got off a few more shots before she was punched at from behind. She growled as she grabbed his arms and elbowed him right in the face and broke his nose. He shouted in pain as she shot him in the head. Evee shouted when one man plunged a knife deep in her hip and dragged it to make her bleed.

“Fucker!” She shouted and punched him right in the throat. He started gasping for breath as she shot him. A few more shots and the group was finally down, leaving her breathing hard. “Fuck!” She gritted as she stared at the infernal knife. She couldn’t take it out until she got to her apartment because that’s where her medical kit was. She was limping badly as she made her way back home and finally closed the door behind her. She stumbled into her bedroom and yanked the comforter off. It wasn’t the first time she had nights like this and it made her invest in black bed sheets to help deal with the blood. She got into a tang top and cut her pants off before grabbing the medical kit.

“What happened?” Someone spoke. Evee grabbed the knife at her nightstand and threw it. It was easily knocked out of the way by one of the arms.

“Otto…fuck…sorry…act first…think later.” She sighed.

“No hard feelings.” He said as he came over to her. “What happened?” He asked again.

“Got jumped by a few pros. They didn’t make it.” She smiled.

“Is this normal for you?” He asked.

“Happens at least once a year. People do it to cover their tracks or just want to get rid of the completion.” She shrugged. He couldn’t believe she was so casual about the whole thing, not to mention the knife still in her. “You wouldn’t happen to be a medical doctor too?” She asked with a smirk.

“I have picked up a few more medical skills. Could I tell you if you hit a vein? No. Could I stitch that up if you asked me…yes.” He stated.

“Thank you.” She sighed. He took his coat and gloves off, along with his sunglasses and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m not going to talk you through it.” She said.

“I don’t need you too.” He replied.

“Good, because I’m taking a shot of morphine.” She said as she dug through the bag.

“You’ve got morphine in there?” He gasped.

“Yeah, never leave home without it.” She grinned.

“Easy.” He said taking her hand. She looked at him and for the first time since they fight was she able to finally catch her breath. “You don’t have to be so brave when you’re with me.” He said gently.

“Thank you Otto.” She rasped quietly. After a few moments he helped her take her shot and laid her down on the bed. “Next time we have to have dinner first.” She mumbled before she fell asleep.

Xxxxxxx

She woke up with a hiss of throbbing pain in her leg. She looked down and saw a blanket on her. She pulled it off a bit and saw her wound all bandaged up. She looked at it puzzled for a moment as she started to remember last night.

“Thank you Otto.” She sighed.

“You’re welcome.” He answered as he came into the room. She looked up to see him holding a plate of breakfast for her. While one the arms held a gall of orange juice for her.

“Awww.” She smiled weakly as he came over to her. “Hey can you hand me that aspirin bottle please?” She said pointing. Another arm handed it to her and she couldn’t help but giggle. “They’re so cute once you get used to them.” She said.

“They say thank you.” He said. She took her pills and started eating.

“Thank you for your help last night Otto.” She said quietly.

“You’re welcome Evee.” He smiled.

“Can you…can you stay with me for a little bit…please?” She asked almost like a frightened child.

“Of course.” He nods and sits next to her. After she finished her food she snuggles up to him and he doesn’t question it.

“Did you eat already?” She mumbled.

“Yes. Your apartment is very nice. I’m guessing you own it?”

“Yup.” He started rubbing her back and she hummed softly. The aspirin helped with her throbbing leg. She felt warm and safe in his arms. She couldn’t help but cling to him a bit more tightly.

“Are you ok? You’re tense.” Otto said.

“I can’t remember the last time I felt safe with someone.” She answered honestly. She looks up at him again as he gazes at her. “I know that probably sounds weird coming from me right?” She laughed weakly.

“No.” He said shaking his head. “I’m glad you feel safe with me.” He smiles. She leans in a little closer and so does he. She’s hesitant to go further, but he does it for her. He gently kisses her and she eagerly responds to his touch. She moans softly against his mouth as he lays her back down while his hands cup her face. When he finally pulls away her vision is blurry as she tries to catch her breath. “Evee what’s wrong? You’re crying. Did I hurt you?” He asks concerned.

“N-no.” She says, surprised that’s she’s crying. “It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve felt a connection with someone.” She admits.

“I understand.” He nods. “I lost my wife, Rosie, in the accident. I thought it was all over…but they…talked to me.” He said pointing to the arms. “And then I kept running into this assassin who named herself after a Pokémon.” He laughed. She couldn’t help but join in.

“I hope I get to meet her sometime.” Evee teased. Otto leaned into her again and gave her another tender kiss.

“Can I stay here for a little bit…please?” Otto whispered. She could hear the pleading in his voice.

“Of course you can.” She smiled. Otto pulled her back into his embrace gently. The arms wrapped around Evee carefully and protectively. She felt him kiss the top of her head before she fell back to sleep to the hum of the metal and the beating of his strong heart.

AN: Just in case, Pokémon isn't mine along with Doc Ock.

#doc ock #doctor octopus #otto octavius #angst with a happy ending #fluff #violence #blood #swearing #doc ock x oc #for anon

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