#selling : healthy left index finger

[whumpingandsmilinglikeanidiot]

Whumper selling away parts of Whumpee's body.

#selling : healthy left index finger #tw body mutilation #whump #whump idea #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump ideas #whump tropes #whump trope

[romancefranaticstay]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Ship on sea ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Captain!Hyunjin x Siren!fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff, smut

'Hoist the sails, loose the nets.'

"Root everyone."

"Let go of the nets."

"Ah, we've got one, Captain!"

That's all you can remember. You got captured by pirates, the worst kind of people. You were unconscious in the net, you had human legs again, you were naked. Your long wet hair covered your body, luckily too.

You woke up in one room. How can you describe the room? It was average, wooden walls, there were some candles on a desk. You saw a few cards and some goods. Lots of papers, two doors that lead to other rooms apparently.

You were sitting in a bathtub, with cold water that felt good. You looked around in a bit of surprise. You could still hear the sailors' words in your ears.

You saw a man come in. His eyes were dark, it scared you. You panicked and tried to crawl out of the bathtub, but unfortunately you couldn't.

"Ahh, you're finally awake again, hmm."

he came to you and he lifted you chin with his index finger.

"Looks healthy enough to sell."

'Excuse me? To sell?! I am not an object.'

'In my opinion, yes. A strange kind of quick-witted person.'

"I have legs too."

“I've seen that before, little girl. I have eyes here.'

he pointed his finger at his eyes.

"Can I get out of the bathtub?"

"So you can run away, back into the water?"

"I'm not going to do that."

"As if I trust a being like you."

'I'm a person too.'

"Not in my eyes." so he left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You were still in the bathtub, quietly playing with the water. Suddenly the door opened again. He had a plate in his hands with some delicious food. He went to his desk and started eating.

'That looks delicious.'

you said.

'Could I have a piece too?'

'No.'

"You can't let me starve, who would want to buy me."

'You think I didn't think of that? You won't get food until tomorrow.'

"Why not today?"

"Because I said so, little girl."

"Stop calling me a little girl."

He paused and continued eating. You couldn't look at it, so you dived under the water. You observed your tail. It was beautiful, to be honest.

'What is your name?'

he didn't answer.

"Can I at least know your name?"

'Why.'

"Because it's strange to be in the same room with someone, without any information."

“Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin…nice name.”

he nodded. He stood up from his chair. You leaned against the bathtub.

"Where are you going?"

'I'm going to sleep.' '

'Goodnight then.'

So he left again without saying a word.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You pretended to be sleeping, but actually you couldn't close your eyes for 2 hours. You heard a door creak and some footsteps. You felt eyes on you. You used your senses to maybe know who it was. You smelled a certain scent and felt a certain atmosphere... it felt like... Hyunjin.

You opened your eyes and looked straight into his eyes. He stood there leaning against the door frame. Just staring you up and down. He didn't say anything, nothing came out of his mouth. His pyjama was a long fleece blouse with a long fleece pants. After three minutes he just went back into his bedroom.

You thought he was scary, even though he looked very attractive. His look gave you chills. You wanted to flee, to leave.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you woke up on a bed. You were laying under a blanket. You don't know how you came here, but it was at least better now when you had legs. You looked under the blanket and saw you had a dark blue dress on. It was beautifull. You stood up from the bed and looked around in the bedroom.

The bed you were in was not too small, but not too big either. It was in the corner of the room. This definitely wasn't the captain's room, or at least you hoped so... You started walking around the room. You had to get used to your legs. You hopped around a bit so your muscles could move a bit. It had been a long time since you used your legs. You were surprised that you still knew how to stand up.

The door opened again and the captain named Hyunjin entered. There was a table in the room where you sat. He had a plate of food in his hands.

'Here.'

you cautiously approached. It was hardtack and salt beef. It looked quite tasty.

'Thank you.'

you muttered. You sat at the table and began to eat quietly, not daring to look up at the captain. He just stood leaning against the door. He watched you eat everything. He also looked at your legs, it was strange that you first had a tail and now two beautiful shiny legs. It was fantastically impressive.

You looked to your right where he was standing. You looked him up and down. You had never really looked at him properly. He didn't look too unfriendly, he had long black hair, thick lips, he was also tall and muscular, but that's probably normal.

"What's your name, little girl."

You looked at your plate and didn't answer. He came closer and grabbed your chin.

"Answer the captain."

“Y/N…”

you said softly.

“Y/N, okay.”

He sat across from you at the table. His hands were together and he looked at you. His eyes seemed darker than ever. You kept looking at your plate.

"You're a strange creature."

'You too.'

He clicked with his tongue his inner jaw. The silence was a bit awkward.

He got up again and left again. You thought he was finally leaving for a while, but he came back in with his plate of food. He sat across from you again and started to eat. You watched his actions. It was quiet, you could hear the sounds of the sea. The ship moved a little, but the sea was quiet this time of year.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two of you grew a little closer together, you always ate lunch together. You two talked sometimes. It was very quiet. You'll be sold in just 1 day. The captain had forgotten that, and he still didn't know. The captain became close to you. He came and sat with you, you talked about the ocean. He asked many things, all of which you had seen. It was nice to finally have someone with the same passion. He couldn't stay away from you, until today...

The ship sailed on the shore. The captain was still asleep. You were sleeping in the room next door, suddenly some sailors came to get you out of bed. They put a cloth over your mouth.

'Healthy enough to sell.'

You tried to stop them, you moved and tried to escape from their grasp. You pushed things over but they finally got you out of the ship. They grabbed your arms and dragged you away. Your anger swirled, you had sharp teeth, you bit the cloth from your mouth. They didn't notice yet because you were pretty quiet.

Before they know it you bit their hands, blood pouring from their bodies. You were still wearing the dark blue dress. The captain heard shouting and immediately went to your room, you weren't there. He ran outside to the deck and looked where the shouting was coming from. He saw the bloody hands of his crew members.

He saw you running to the beach, clutching the dress tightly to you. You ran deep into the water and finally dived into the water itself. No no no no, you couldn't leave, you couldn't leave him. Hyunjin took off some of his clothes and jumped into the water.

You no longer swim that fast because you were already used to your legs. You heard some water splashing. You turned around and saw Hyunjin swimming towards you. It was too dangerous here in the Ocean for a human like him. You swam far out into the sea, but you still saw the ship.

“Y/N.”

he tried to shout.

“Y/N, wait, please.”

you stopped and turned around. He tried to keep his head above water, but he was so tired. You saw him sink a little underwater. You immediately swam over to him and grabbed him in an embrace. You kept his head above water as you swam to a nearby shore. This one was a little further than the normal one, it was not really accessible.

You laid him down and started knocking water out of his body. You started mouth to mouth breathing. You made sure you scooped up enough air. His eyes opened again and he gasped. You were still giving him life support. He straightened his back and started coughing. You looked at his chest, which was heaving.

“Y/N.”

he said softly. His fingers slid over your cheeks.

"Don't leave me alone, please."

"You wanted to sell me."

'They came in without my permission. I would never sell you after the time I had with you.'

'The time?'

“I feel alive with you Y/N.”

You grabbed his face and pressed your lips against his. Your tongue slid through his mouth. Your hands interwined.

"Let's go back, okay?"

he put a piece of hair behind your ears.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hyunjin carried you to his bed and laid you down. He trampled the members who took you. They were given community service for the coming months. They also came to you personally. Of course you forgave them, also because you bit them.

You lay on the bed and waited for Hyunjin to come back. He came in and locked the door. He sat on the bed next to you. He played with your hair. He started kissing your face softly. You took his hand and brought it under your dress. His fingers started rubbing your clit. He watched you react.

He lifted your dress and he attached his mouth to your clit. He devoured it, like a hungry man. Your back arched and you grabbed the sheet. He pinned your thighs on the bed, because they were a bit shaking. You came without a warning and he licked everything up.

You pulled his pants a little down so you could get his member out. You stroked it softly and brought it against your lips. You started licking the tip, your tongue slid over his length. Twirling around. You heard his whimpers above you. You saw some precum coming out.

Hyunjin positioned himself by your entrance. His face was already sweaty. He slid in with ease. He tore the dress loose so he could have access to your boobs. He nibbled on your nipples, with one hand he kneaded one of your breasts. You grabbed his chin and brought him back in for a kiss. You tasted each other.

His rhythm started to speed up. He pushed into you. He wanted you now, he wanted to feel everything about you. He grabbed your ankles with both hands and spread your legs wide. He pumped into you fast. He sucked your neck and licked everything he could reach. You threw your head back on the pillow.

'You are so Beautiful.'

he whispered in your ear. He started biting your earlobe. He let go of your ankles, but your legs remained open. He took one of your hands and placed it on the lower part of your stomach. You felt him pumping into you. You felt him all the way in it.

Hyunjin could already feel his orgasm coming. You felt drops of sweat falling on your body. He started to push into you more.

"Hyunjin, I am about to cum."

you said softly with your eyes closed. Hyunjin grabbed your chin so you looked at him as you came. You came moaning out his name, because of that he also came. You stared at each other for a while, just admiring each other.

Your hands went around his neck and you pulled him to you. Your arms surrounded his stomach. You were so small compared to him. You clung to him. His arms went to your waist. You fell asleep in this position with him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was night and you opened your eyes. You looked to your right and saw Hyunjin sleeping. You stood up and put your dark blue dress back on. You went outside to the deck. You walked around there a bit. You went to the edge and leaned your arms. You looked at the waves of the sea. You missed that cold water. You missed your hair being wet. You heard some creaking of planks.

“Y/N.”

you heard someone whisper in your ears.

“I miss the water Hyunjin.”

his hands surrounded your waist.

'I know.'

he whispered in your ears.

“But I can’t leave my ship Y/N.”

you looked at each other. Your look changed.

"We'll find a way."

you said

. "Let's go back inside, okay?"

“Okay, babe.”

You kissed his cheek. You were back in bed with him. His warmth felt good, maybe even better than the cold water.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days passed and you felt homesick. You wanted to jump into the water, you couldn't help it. It was your siren instinct. You tried life on board, but it didn't work out. Every day you saw the beautiful waves, you saw fish and sea animals swimming. You wanted to swim with them, you wanted to go back to your family, to your friends,... You were on deck at night again. This looked like you were standing on the edge.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I can't hold on anymore, I want to get in the water, Hyunjin.”

"We have a bathtub?"

"That's not the same."

“What do you want to say,Y/N.”

"I'm a Siren, I live in water, Hyunjin."

There was a silence between you.

'I understand.'

“I'll never forget you Hyunjin. I love you so much, I don't know if I can leave you. I want you to come with me, but you can't.'

He came closer to you and kissed you softly.

“I love you Y/N, I'm never going to find love again. I will never make love to anyone else but you again.'

He had a chain around his neck, he took it off. He brought the chain to your neck and put it on for you.

"So you don't forget me."

"We'll see each other again, I promise."

"I'm not going to let you go if I see you one more time."

You kissed him on the cheeks and turned around. You looked back again and then jumped into the water. Hyunjin watched as your legs turned back into a tail. You disappeared into the water. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His tears dripped into the water.

“I love you Y/N.”

#skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz smut #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #skz angst #straykids angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #skz hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hwang hyunjin #skz stay #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #skz hyunjin x reader #skz hyunjin smut #skz hyunjin angst

[birdinhere]

HIIIIII i made a silly rdr2 au :D ok so.

Arthur never gets tuberculosis. He can’t, he’s too busy for trivial things like Strauss’s money troubles. Strauss tells him if he doesn’t collect on the debts, the gang won’t have money. But that’s no problem for Arthur, because he goes out everyday looking for ways to make money. He finds several, but the easiest one is stealing horses to sell. He finds most folks keep their horses papers in their saddle bags, but if not, it turns out Hosea is quite good at forging them. (Later on they get even better with Kieran’s help.) As long as he’s quick about it, he never gets caught either, and soon he gets an eye for which horses fetch more money. Pretty soon he’s a full on horse connoisseur, but no one really cares. It’s just a silly thing Arthur does in his free time.

As time passes things go as they do in game, including the trolley crash and Dutch getting his head injury, and most importantly, Hosea’s death. Now at this point, Arthur knows loss. He was devastated when Kieran died, as they had grown close over their mutual love for horses, but Hosea’s death is so much harder on him, and he doesn’t understand why until they return from Guarma. It’s so hard because Dutch doesn’t care. It’s as if it didn’t even happen to him. And this is where things start to fall apart, and they fall apart fast. Arthur grieves *hard* for Hosea. Hosea was his father, his mentor, and Dutch can’t even spare a passing glance? Can’t even visit his grave? And so things fall into place for Arthur very quickly. If Dutch doesn’t care about Hosea dying, would he care if Arthur died? He tested it once, stayed out of camp for so long he almost forgot what it looked like when eventually Charles found him. He was so excited, because Dutch had sent someone for him, Dutch did care, but no, as Charles would clarify, Dutch did not send him. He came on his own, because he missed Arthur. Dutch hadn’t even noticed he was gone. That was Arthur’s final straw. There, in camp at that final showdown between Arthur and Dutch, guns drawn, Arthur pulled the trigger. But he couldn’t kill Dutch. No matter how insane the old man had gotten, he was still his father. So he did the only thing he could, and shot the gun clean out of Dutch’s hand. It wounded him of course, a bullet is going to rip in a straight line no matter what you want it to do, so it tore through Dutches Middle and index finger, up through his arm and out his shoulder, permanently altering the usability of that arm forever, but it worked. Ditches gun was gone and away from him, his second pistol yards away in his tent. But Arthur was not the only one to fire. No, Dutch did too, and he was not nearly as generous. But he was also not nearly as good a shot. He aimed for Arthur’s head. But the bullet skewed to the left, and instead of splattering his brains out, it ripped through the side of his face, barely missing bone. It hurt, *bad*, but even still Arthur survived. As Dutch reeled over his hand, Arthur ran. He wasn’t held back by his sickness, no, this was a healthy man who needed to run for his life. And he did. He ran until his legs gave out, ran until he couldn’t tell where he was anymore, ran until he saw John’s horse trotting up to him, and collapsed in Johns arms. John was never the strongest, but he lifted Arthur onto his horse and ran like hell to get help.

The doctors called it a miracle. How is he alive? They asked. What happened? They questioned. John could only respond “I don’t know.” To both of those questions. Slowly, Arthur recovered. Eating and drinking was never easy for him and it never would be, but he was alive. And he was lucky. The first thing he did after he healed was thank John. He thanked him by paying his bounty, no small feat, the large sum taking up most of his savings. But John was a free man. He urged John to go to black water to collect their pile of missing cash, something no other gang member was able to do. He did, and urged Arthur to use the money to pay off his own bounty, but he refused. First they found Abigail and Jack. Jack had no bounty, he was just a boy, but Abigail did, a hefty $500 Arthur paid off dutifully. Then he found Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly, and paid off their bounties as well. They were appreciative, but he stressed that they were not indebted to him. He did this so they could live their lives free, not chained up with him. But this marked the end of the black water money. There was only a few dollars left, some twenty odd bucks that wouldn’t pay anyone’s bounty, let alone the now $7k on Arthur’s head. But he wasn’t stressed. He could always go back to stealing and selling horses. Until he made a simple, enriching discovery. His beloved white Arabian was pregnant. Her baby, even mixed with whatever sorry stallions genes made up the other half of the baby could net them a good few hundred. But when the baby arrived, a bouncing baby boy, their was no denying who the father was. The Duke. And the baby fetched them just over a thousand dollars.

This was invigorating, and painful at the same time, knowing this pairing could never be replicated. Dutch was still alive out there, with The Duke, and there was no chance he could just ask for another pairing. So the two of them, Arthur and John, made a gamble. They bought another Arabian with their fetchings from the previous colt, a beautiful rose gold stallion. The horses paired well, and the baby paid even better, and they knew their gamble was going to be a good one. After awhile, they bought another mare, John too impatient to wait through every pregnancy to see their payout. They set aside a large majority of their cash for Arthur’s bounty, but they took a little off the top for themselves, John buying Abigail a ranch and whatever else her and their son desired. Arthur, of course, put his money into his horses, as they all quickly became his pride and joy. Soon, he could pay off his bounty, and he became a free man once more. But Dutch is still out there, holed up with Micah in that desolate frozen wasteland. And surely Mary is out there too, waiting for the day Arthur cleaned himself up and stopped his life of crime. Well the day has finally come, but perhaps revenge is a dish best served cold.

OKAY TEEHEE HOPED YOU LIKED IT 😋👍 I know there are some plot holes but just. Swerve around them. Okay 👌 teehee anyway here’s some art I did of Good Ending Arthur I’ll do one of Dutch and his hand too ok bye bye!!!

#rdr2 #rdr2 au #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 Dutch #rdr2 posting

[angelamajiki]

PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

#yandere endeavor #yandere endeavor x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji todoroki x reader #yandere enji x reader #yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji todoroki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #yandere boku no hero academia

[storiesfromthefarm]

STORIES FROM THE FARM ✿ chapter 4

╰a Poly!SVT kpop au

╰ feat. SVT, original female character

╰ mentions of zombie apocalypse, implied character death, slice of life

╰ index:            - Haraboji: 할아버지, trans. grandfather            - Halbi: 할비, trans. nickname, short for 할아버지            - Gongjunim: 공주님, trans. princess            - Chuseok: 추석, a mid-autumn festival; major Korean holiday, equivalent to Thanksgiving

╰a/n: HAVE YOU ALL HEARD DARLING? THIS IS A DARLING STAN ACCOUNT NOW ! STREAM DARLING, DARLING ~ kiss me, baby ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Ari laid out the last mat, lining it up neatly with the others.

Six would stay in this room on the mats, the others would take the mini masters. Two to each bed and one additional mat on the floor of the room. They couldn’t have their own room or their own bed, but at least it’s better than the grass they might have been sleeping on before.

She paused as she laid a cover on top of the mat, twisting the fabric between her fingers. How long had it been, since they had really felt any sort of comfort? Living outside, sleeping on the ground, scavenging for scraps. She knew that the latter must have been particularly hard the closer they came to the farm; she’d gathered everything edible within a nearly five mile radius and brought it all back to the storeroom ages ago.

When did they lose Wonwoo? Was it right before they left the city? If it was, then they left in bad spirits, with no plan, nowhere to go. It must have been so hard, she thought. Still, as much as she felt for them, as strange and wonderful as it was to have the members of Seventeen around, they couldn’t stay. “A few days,” she muttered to herself. “They can only stay a few days. Finish helping Halbi and then they have to go.” And no matter what, she thought to herself, do not get attached.

- - -

“We got sesame and soybeans, rice, tomatoes, potatoes, onion, green onion, garlic, peppers. Over there’s cabbage and lettuce; we got wheat and a bit of squash and cucumber, corn, carrots. Didn’t use to grow quite so much but after everything happened and we weren’t selling harvest anymore, didn’t make much sense for us to have pounds of soybeans go to waste when we could grow us something else to eat.”

“Haraboji, you take care of all these fields yourself?” Jun asked in awe. “That’s amazing.”

“Well, it ain’t easy, but I been farming my whole life. I do enough to get us by.” Halbi sighed. “Truth is, I’d like to do more. We do what we can, but crops still go to rot if I can’t get to ‘em in time. Even after that, with just the two of us here, we save more’n we can eat fresh. More’n half of it’s frozen down in the basement. It’s damn waste and a shame.”

The members all exchanged quiet looks amongst themselves.

“Well, anyway! Here are the girls!” They approached a chicken coop, several dark and tawny chickens plucking away at the ground lazily.

“That’s how you have eggs,” Soonyoung commented to himself.

“Exactly so. Important to stay healthy at times like this, so we keep good eggs, got the soybeans to make some tofu. Gongjunim keeps the beef locked down with an iron fist unless it’s for special occasions, so we get us our protein in other ways.”

“Sorry?”

“Beef?”

“The what?”

“You have meat?”

Halbi laughed at their eyes, wide with awe. “Don’t tell her I told ‘ya or she’ll throw herself into a fit. Truth is, this ain’t the only farm Gongjunim took care of. Old bastard I knew from way back had a cattle farm, not but the other side the mountains over there.” He pointed off to the edge of the farm where a small crest of mountains surrounded the property line. “Well, ‘bout a year after she got here, he had some trouble with equipment, woulda shut him down for a while without replacing it, but he didn’t have the money. Everyone fell on hard times ‘round then. Gongjunim offered quick as a flash to fix it up for him. I introduced them right after she moved here. Girl loves beef more than anything; think it’s cause it’s one of the only things she can eat.” He laughed. “Well, anyway. She bought his farm from him, too. When things started happening, he killed just as many cows as he could, processed ‘em right, packed ‘em up, and brought it all here. Stayed with us till he passed on, too. Not all that long ago, actually. Just about a few months, when it was still snowin’ hard.”

“And, and you still have the meat?” Jihoon asked.

“Too much,” Halbi said, shaking his head. “She’s determined to make it last as long as possible. Says she wants to have some in case of an emergency, but she always lets us have some on our birthdays, and we still make a point to cook a good meal for Chuseok.”

The members swallowed thickly at the thought of meat. Whatever they had left in their freezers had run out quickly after the outbreak, and it’s a meal they haven’t had since.

Halbi laughed. “Well you just help an old man finish his chores later. We’ll get you some meat before you get on your way!”

“Really?!”

“Thank you, Haraboji!”

“But…will Ari-ssi be okay with it?”

“Ack, don’t worry about her! You do right by the farm, she’ll do right by you. She might not be too happy about it at first, but I told ‘ya, she’ll want it, too. She won’t say no.”

- - -

“What else is there? Dishes are done,” Ari counted on her fingers, “laundry’s been rerun, showers wiped down, beds are set up. I can’t clean their shoes right now since they’re wearing them.”

As she wandered down the hallway, she lingered by the door. The one that stayed closed, locked behind a passcode. It was the only room in the house to have a separate smart lock. She was surprised none of the boys had asked about it yet, but then again, they had other things on their mind. She glanced toward the front door. It didn’t sound like they were coming back from their tour any time soon, so she quickly entered the passcode and slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

The sight that greeted her was the same as it always was: the plush, oversized couch, her favorite iridescent coffee table, the multiple, oversized stuffed dolls, and the shelves, filled to the brink with her favorite albums.

Her eyes landed on one shelf in particular, and she smiled softly, moving toward it easily. The Caratbong which she’d decorate herself shined in the light, and she pulled a random album off the shelf. She flipped through the photobook slowly. “They all look so different now.”

They were still the same boys she saw in the photos, but aged, more tired, slightly thinner from lack of food, and if she were being honest, they could all use a decent haircut. She laughed to herself, flipping another page before pursing her lips tight.

Wonwoo stared back at her, leaning casually against an old counter. His all black leather suit matched his sleek black hair. Gently, Ari settled a shaking hand on top of the page. Did it hurt? Did he suffer? She hoped not. She hoped it was quick. Hoped there was no lengthy infection, hoped he’d gotten a bullet through the brain before he could become one of those things.

“Sorry,” she choked out in a whisper. “So sorry, Wonwoo. If I had known you all were still alive,” Ari sniffed, “if I had known, I would have saved you all.”

She took a deep breath, throwing her head back to stop the tears from falling. She slammed the album shut and shoved it back into the shelf. She turned sharply and left the room, wiping at her face angrily.

- - -

“A week?” Ari yelped. “You want them to stay a whole week?”

“Keep your voice down, now. Those boys are trying to sleep.”

“Halbi, a week, are you insane?! That’s longer than we’ve let anyone stay!”

“That’s long enough for ‘em to help me with the fence and the fields.”

“And long enough for them to get comfortable!” Ari hissed in return. “What if they just expect to stay longer after everything is finished?”

“How can they expect to stay any longer,” Halbi groused, gesturing toward her, “when you keep reminding ‘em they ain’t welcome?”

Ari huffed. “They have to know they aren’t.”

“And why not?” Halbi asked in return. “If those boys turn out to be good with the work, why not let ‘em stay?”

“Why not?” Ari repeated disbelievingly. “Because we don’t know them? Because that’s too many people? Because,” she continued meaningfully, “you know they’d never…no one can…understand. They can’t know.” She hung her head momentarily, pain beginning to tingle behind her eyes. She smacked the rag down onto the counter suddenly. “Besides, you think they’re nice now - what about when it comes time for them to leave? You think they won’t show their true colors? Try and force us to let them stay? And the house can’t handle all of us, anyway. We’d be packed.”

“Not a single person in this world able to threaten this farm and you know that,” Halbi gave her a stern look. “We’ll do what we have to if it comes to having to do it, like we always have. And if they stay, you can get to know ‘em. Handsomest group of boys I’ve seen come across our farm since the start. I’m surprised you’re not fallin’ all over yourself, them being some of those idol singers and all.” He reprimanded her with a shaking finger. “And what’s all this ‘bout the house? House’ll last longer than any of us will, them solar powers and our well is more’n enough.”

When she didn’t respond, Halbi sighed. “Come sit, brat.”

Ari sniffed, frowning as she shuffled over and plopped down beside him on the sofa. “More’n anything,” he started, placing a hand on her head, “an old man ain’t gonna be around forever. You’re stubborn as a damn mule, but even you can’t handle the whole farm and the house on your own. Now that it’s just us two, I need someone here that’s gonna look after ya’ once I’m gone.”

“Don’t,” Ari whispered softly through tight teeth. “Don’t even talk about that.”

“You may not like it, Gongjunim, but death is a part of this life, too. I’ll be damned if I leave you alone to fend for ya’self. Now, those boys seem like good, decent kids. If I can teach ‘em the farm, once I’m gone, they can take care of ya’. You might even get yourself a lover if you’d be a little nicer.”

“What?!” she squawked.

Halbi laughed. “Ah, all you youngsters these days are so sensitive about sex. You’re a pretty young lady, and they’re a bunch of handsome men. Now I’ve told ‘em to mind their manners around ya’, but they’re still men, after all. Probably not seen a girl pretty as you in a while. At least one of em’s gotta have eyes on ya’. You just make sure they don’t go puttin’ hands on ya’ without your say so.”

“Halbi, I’m very uncomfortable right now,” Ari said stoically, shaking her head.

The old man laughed, throwing his head back. “You just think about it.” He gave her head another pat. “Bound to happen sooner or later, finding someone we want to stay with us. I’m just sayin’. They might be the best we’ll get.” He groaned as he stood, pushing himself up from his knees. “I’m turnin’ in. You don’t stay up too late.”

“Night night, Halbi,” she said as she stood, too, offering a small bow.

“How many times I gotta tell you to quit bowin’ to an old man?”

Ari smiled in return as he made his way up the stairs. “I’ll always bow to my Halbi.”

“Ack!” He waved her off again before disappearing out of sight, and Ari stared after him, trying to push everything he had just said from her mind.

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ taglist: @hyuckscult13​ | @woozarts​ | @imnotreadytolove

#seventeen story #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #svt #seventeen #seventeen series

[little-mad]

A Seat at the Table Pt. 2 (Final)

~ Part 1 ~

After Gavin’s initial outburst had passed, breakfast went on smoothly and uneventfully, much to Rael’s relief. He was unprepared to address Gavin’s inquiries about why they couldn’t eat in the dining hall, because to be frank, Rael didn’t really have an answer.

Logically, Rael knew none of the soldiers would dare make a move against someone explicitly under the Emperor’s protection--and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia that clouded his mind every time he pictured other alteons around the human. Maybe they wouldn’t attack Gavin, but what if they said something cruel? Something even Gavin wouldn’t be able to shake?

Simply being in this realm was dangerous for Gavin, therefore Rael needed to take as many steps as possible to minimize the risk. Honestly, he didn’t understand why the human had any desire to dine among the alteon soldiers; it wasn’t as though his previous experience with one had left a particularly great impression. Of course, Gavin did have a knack of surprising Rael. There was much more to the tiny man than he’d initially expected.

“Patrols are much more interesting than boring guard duty,” Gavin remarked from where he sat on Rael’s shoulder.

Seeing as constantly having his hands occupied with carrying a human was more than a little impractical, the two of them had needed to determine an alternative. Rael’s first idea of using a belt pouch hadn’t gone over very well with Gavin, and so they had ended up settling on the shoulder.

At first, Rael had been tentative about placing the human so high up. A fall from such a height would no doubt be deadly for someone of Gavin’s size. Gavin had come up with the solution of tucking himself under one of the leather straps of Rael’s armor, that way he had something holding him down as well as something to grip onto.

While Rael had agreed to the set-up, he still couldn’t help but send frequent uneasy glances at the human. It was difficult not to feel the need to be constantly vigilant when he was with Gavin. The little guy was just so fragile. The slightest misstep or wrong move could prove disastrous to him.

“Are you taking the same route as the last time?” Gavin inquired, his voice so near to Rael’s ear that he didn’t even need to raise it at all.

Rael shook his head, careful not to disturb Gavin’s position. “No, this time we’re patrolling the grounds,” he explained. As beautiful as the palace interior was, it could feel a bit stuffy after a while, especially with so many nobles and other important figures milling about and scrutinizing everyone around them. Since he had Gavin now, that particular aspect of the indoors was even less appealing.

“Great, I could use the fresh air,” Gavin commented just as Rael stepped out into the early morning sunlight.

-

Same as it had been the past couple days, Rael’s job proved fairly uneventful. A dull occupation was not something Gavin was used to. It was hard to get bored when you were a thief. Even intel gathering stakeouts often came with a healthy dose of intrigue. However, he had to be grateful for the mundane nature of Rael’s patrol, because things getting exciting also meant things getting dangerous.

A couple hours into the patrol and Gavin was convinced this one would be as uneventful as the rest. He had taken to resting his tired eyes, without Rael’s knowledge of course, when suddenly he felt his trusty giant steed’s walking come to an abrupt stop.

“Hey, what the--” No sooner had Gavin’s eyes opened that his vision was filled with a pair of giant hands reaching towards him. He instantly recoiled, though sitting on a shoulder, he had nowhere to retreat to.

Long fingers wrapped themselves around Gavin’s body, and with seemingly no effort whatsoever, they broke his iron-like grip on the leather strap and lifted him free.

Immediately, Gavin’s mind went to Kaydin, the thug who had tried to abduct him in the woods. However, there was something familiar about the hands surrounding his body; their grasp was firm but gentle, as though they intended to protect rather than harm.

When everything came to a halt and the hands were no longer in motion, Gavin was finally able to make some sense of the situation. He was being held in the relaxed fist of one hand, while the other one was cupped under the bottom so that his feet touched the palm. This left only the upper half of Gavin’s chest and above sticking out the top.

Gavin’s first move was to glance behind himself to find out just who had so abruptly snagged him from his perch. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized the perpetrator was none other than Rael...shortly followed by a wave of irritation at the sudden relocation.

“Woah, you seem a little defensive, Rael.” An instant feeling of dread began to steal over Gavin. He knew that voice, he’d had nightmares about that voice.

Slowly he turned back around. As expected, there stood Ashryn: Gavin’s least favorite alteon--which was impressive considering there existed an alteon who’d tried to kidnap and sell him on the blackmarket.

“I have been tasked with protecting our human guest, so it is my job to be defensive,” Gavin heard Rael state icily. There was no hint of the polite courtesy that had been present during he and Ashryn’s last interaction--something that Gavin was definitely pleased about.

“Ah, that’s right,” Ashryn remarked, seemingly unfazed by Rael’s less than friendly disposition. “A shame you got saddled with such an unfavorable task.”

If blood physically had the ability to boil, Gavin was sure his would be bubbling like crazy at this point. He had to literally bite down on his own tongue to prevent a vulgar string of insults from flying out of his mouth. Ashryn clearly had a unique knack for triggering the latent rage that lay within Gavin, but he wouldn’t let himself fall for the same trap twice. Getting angry was exactly the kind of reaction Ashryn was looking for.

“I’m honored to have been granted this assignment actually.” Gavin’s fury was temporarily forgotten at Rael’s unexpected words. “The Emperor specifically entrusted it to me after all.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Gavin caught sight of Rael’s hardened expression as he unwaveringly met Ashryn’s gaze. The guy was notoriously difficult for Gavin to get a read on, but he could swear he saw not even a shred of fear or uncertainty in those striking teal eyes of his.

Turning back forward, Gavin could tell the smug smile on Ashryn’s face had taken on a tight quality. He had a feeling the asshole wasn’t particularly used to being stood up to.

“Oh, well I was concerned it may have been more of a punishment than anything,” Ashryn stated. The naive innocence in his tone was nauseatingly artificial.

“I’m not sure you understand just how important it is to the Emperor that our relationship with humans remain positive,” Rael countered smoothly, as though he’d practiced this very conversation in his head countless times.

Ashryn’s smile began to falter, distinct irritation now flashing in his eyes. “You seem quite sure you know the Emperor’s intentions,” he commented coldly.

“Evidently better than you do,” came Rael’s quick reply, and Gavin nearly let slip a bark of laughter. He’d proven it before, but this was just further proof that Rael was clearly quite skilled with his words. If he’d grown up on earth, Gavin had no doubt the guy would’ve been one of those insufferable smart-asses on the debate team in high school.

The smile had completely gone from Ashryn’s face now and had been replaced with a dark scowl. The sight was so satisfying to Gavin that he couldn’t help a smile of his own from tugging at his lips. However, the joy was quickly shot through with a bolt of fear as the green-eyed giant’s gaze suddenly landed on him.

Gavin was quickly reminded of his situation. Ashryn was more than just some jerk, he was a giant jerk, and that giant jerk was currently giving Gavin the absolute dirtiest look of all time.

As though he had taken notice of the hateful glare too, at that moment Rael ever-so-slightly tightened his hold on Gavin’s body. There also came a bout of steady movement as Rael brought his hands closer to his body and farther away from Ashryn.

“I’m afraid I have no more time to waste on you and your pet,” the brown-haired giant spat, finally lifting his gaze from Gavin. “Enjoy your babysitting.” With that, Ashryn turned sharply on his heel and strode off down the cobble path that led back towards the palace.

“Stupid, pointy-eared, pretensious, oversized--” Gavin nearly drew blood with how hard he was biting on his tongue to prevent his thoughts from becoming verbal. Sure it would be satisfying in the moment, but it was obvious that Rael’s well crafted rebuttals were far more effective against Ashryn than Gavin’s disorganized assortment of crude insults.

Gavin was drawn out of his mental fuming when the hands holding him lurched into motion once again. Long fingers shifted around him until Rael’s thumb was pressed gently against his chest while the index finger did the same to his back. With an easy, fluid movement, Rael managed to twist Gavin’s body around so that he was now facing towards the giant rather than away.

Maybe if the circumstances were different Gavin would be irked by the gentle manhandling, but there was no way he could be annoyed with Rael after the way he’d just handled Ashryn.

“I’m sorry you had to see him again,” Rael said as he gazed down at the human in his hands. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, and Gavin didn’t doubt for a second that the guy meant what he said.

“Don’t sweat it,” Gavin replied with a wave of his hand. “There was obviously nothing to worry about since I’ve got my knight in shining armor and all,” he added with a smirk.

Rael’s dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “My armor doesn’t shine,” he stated. “And I’d certainly not call myself a knight.”

Gavin gave a snort. The cultural divide between humans and alteons had once again made itself known. “It’s a figure of speech, dummy,” he told Rael as he flicked the giant’s hand.

“I don’t know how I’m meant to keep up with all your bizarre human sayings,” Rael grumbled as he moved Gavin back into position on his shoulder.

Gavin chuckled, and then there was a moment of silence as Rael set back off on his patrol. The quiet was comfortable. There was no air of awkwardness or a sense that one of them should be saying something. But then, after a few more moments, Rael suddenly broke the silence. “If you want to eat in the dining hall, we can,” he said simply.

Completely caught off guard, Gavin froze. He stared at the side of Rael’s face with wide eyes, but the alteon remained looking forward. “A-are you sure?” Gavin found himself stammering. He had no idea where Rael’s sudden change of heart had come from, and while Gavin was glad for it, he didn’t want to have guilted the man into the decision.

Smiling softly, Rael nodded. “Of course. I can handle any idiot foolish enough to think they can mess with you,” he responded smoothly.

Gavin broke into a grin. It seemed he would get his seat at the big kid table after all. All thanks to his trusty not-knight in not-shining armor.

#I hope you enjoyed this lil short of these lads #like I said before I plan on doing more with this universe in the future #so keep an eye out #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael

[thecaptainhelm]

Every Tap of My Heart

Here’s a  valentine’s gift for @savagenutella46, whose a lovely person! Here’s my gift of writer love for a fellow maribat enthusiast, hope you have a wonderful day fit for a wonderful person. xoxo uwu [insert heart heart winky face heart eyes rose]

Thanks to the moderator @eat0crow for setting this up so nicely, ily all!

In a small office, one of the many in the college of liberal arts building, two people sat across from one another in an awkward manner. One, a rather tall, tan, and robust young man with a relaxed and loose posture, and the other, a much smaller brown, older gentleman, salt and peppered hair and frown lines around his mouth.

“Mr. Wetherby,” the young man said in greeting.

“Jonathan.” Mr. Wetherby deadpanned in return. There was a slight pause between the two before the older gentleman spoke again.

“Well, how are you progressing with your midterm project Jonathan? You were well ahead of your peers the last I observed. I trust you have maintained this pace?”

Jon grinned at this, rather than being intimidated by the scholarly demeanor of his professor. Many of his classmates were intimidated by Mr. Wetherby if not for his surprisingly deep voice, then for the juxtaposition of his gentle appearance and his strict teaching. He had only ever felt amused.

“Yes sir, everything is going well. I’ve already checked the business’s schedule and set a meeting with the owner to have a short interview. Everything is totally in order.”

Mr. Wetherby stoically gazed at Jon’s silly grin as they conversed and didn’t say anymore. He simply nodded, typed a few phrases in the computer and turned the screen to Jon. 

“Very good. With this the meeting is complete and you’ve received full marks for the student-teacher progress report. Have a nice day, Jonathan.”

“Right sir, thank you sir, you too sir,” Jon smiled, bright and goofy, unmoving from his seat.

Mr. Wetherby gained a slight tick near his temple.

“Mr. Kent.” The young man blinked, tilting his head with a look comparable to a puppy dog.

“Yes, Mr. Wetherby?”

“You may leave now,” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Have. A good. Day.”

“Right sir, of course sir!” Jon bounced up and carelessly packed his things away. “Have a good day sir!” He energetically left the room and before the remaining occupant could so much as sigh, Jon popped back in, dark hair flopping into his eyes.

“Oh yeah, are we still on for patrol or are you going to call in--”

“Beat it, Corncob!”

“Hahaha!” Jon cackled and dashed away to complete his assignment. Anyone who saw him would do a double take. It seemed as though he was gliding on air, though he wasn’t moving particularly fast. People shrugged and moved about their day, too busy to really care.

Jon Kent was just strange like that.

Sometime later in the evening, the tall and somewhat awkwardly bulky Jon Kent nervously shuffled his way through Metropolis, carefully moving around busy pedestrians and apologizing in a fluster when he didn’t move carefully enough. He knocked into one final person and sheepishly grinned at the irate grunt before arriving at his target location. La Bonne Fée.

The building was sizable, enough space for a backroom, restrooms, a cozy kitchen facility, counter, and booths for people to sit and relax, with enough space left over to not feel compact. The furnishings were all warm, comfortable and the decorations had a slight vintage feel from a  bygone era of classy etiquette and manners. Through the door he could clearly hear the music of an old school juke-box, playing a Jagged Stone album.

Jon had come to such a café to ask the owner for an interview for the school financial magazine’s new column dedicated to new and upcoming businesses.

Some would ask if Jon lost his touch, others if he was touched in the head. Why would he interview a brand new café, one not even a part of a chain, when they were practically all over the city selling the same thing as their competitors.

Jon swallowed hard, and knocked on the softwood door. He picked up a jumping pulse and saw though the window a head of dark hair quickly poke out from behind the counter. His palms had become sweaty and his own heart jumped in his chest when soft footsteps quickly paced to the door and was pulled open with a silent, breathless smile.

“Jon, hey!” Marinette Dupain-Cheng looked up at him with bright grey eyes, almost silver under the city lights and his heart really kicked into high gear then, only slightly less embarrassing when he heard her heart doing the same.

“Glad you could make it,” She nervously fixed the hem of her sweater and pulled her apron on straight.

“Me too,” He smiled at her and was fine getting lost on her eyes before she cleared her throat and held the door wider.

“Would you like to, um if you would--?”

“Oh right, yeah, yeah, yes please, um,” Jon gulped and grinned strangely. He walked in with small quick steps through the door, taking extra care to not bump into her and send the smaller woman three inches through the flooring. God, he wouldn’t ever live that down if that actually happened.

“Well, I’ll grab some refreshments while you set everything up. Be back in a bit,” Marinette grinned as she led him to a booth near the front, out of view of the windows and moved to the counter with a stiff gait. He sat, pulling out his notebook, his voice recorder, pencils and two copies of the agreed upon interview questions. He fiddled with the materials, trying to distract himself from Marinette’s sounds, her heartbeat, her slight hitches in breath as she moved, the sound her petite fingers made when rubbing against the foam cups, all to no avail.

Yes, that’s a suspicious amount of attention to a single, pretty young woman in the city, but he couldn’t help it. He pressed down on the indentation of his index finger, reveling in the simultaneous sensations of hearing and feeling her heartbeat in person.

He couldn’t help it because she was his soulmate.

Jon’s soulmate mark was one he had from birth, thought to be a deformity but what was actually a touch based soul mark. Pressing it would allow him to feel the pulse and heartbeat of his soulmate, so long as they were alive in this life. The doctors had actually thought there might be a twin or a second heart while he was in the womb, but an x-ray via Superman showed that he was a  lone healthy baby. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a small, triracial young woman, with delicate features, a barely noticeable spread of freckles across a small nose and round grey eyes that turned into happy crescents when she beamed wide and unrestrained. This was all he knew about her, from their brief interactions while they set up the interview, all skin deep and superficial knowledge that he wanted to get past. 

This was his soulmate and he knew he shouldn’t rush, but there were so many things that she would have to know about him, things he shouldn’t and couldn’t hide from her, at least not forever, but how was he going to bring up being a superhero? No, wait, how was he going to bring up being half extraterrestrial?! She’d freak!

He tried to relax. He only found out the Marinette was his soulmate when he asked if she would let him interview her and couldn’t help but compare her heart rate to the one on his finger, further panicking when he saw her press her fingertips together in glee and saw the imprint of his finger upon her own. From there he saw that her index finger would snugly fit the imprint on his and he knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his soulmate, that special person the universe found matched perfectly to him in every way that counted. He’d studied and pressed and listened to this heartbeat, wanting to press his head against her back to study and listen in the flesh for years, all before he knew who she was and that she was his and he was hers.

He pressed on it as she walked back to their booth, watching and smiling as she relaxed somewhat, lightly stroking her thumb along her finger as she set the tray of cookies and coffea, the cafe’s specialty fusion drink.

“Sorry for the wait,” She neatly placed the cookies between them after setting down their drinks. He watched the quick and graceful way she tucked the tray into her seat beside her before sending him a dazzling grin that briefly scrambled his brain.

He gaped before managing to stutter out a lame “no trouble” and Marinette merely grinned, cheeks pink. He could dually understand her heart at this time and couldn’t help becoming more flustered. His dumb brain was making him think Marinette had a crush on him, when she was probably just nervous and excited for the interview.

Yeah, that’s all there is to it, nothing more to it at all, he told himself while watching her cheeks darken. 

It wasn’t anything more.

“Well, here’s to a good interview?” Marinette nervously giggled as she raised her cup and Jon did the same without a second thought, only realizing his mistake when she saw his soulmark and paled, honing in like a bat out of hell. He tensed trying to think of an excuse or a lie or something to say but he was stuck. Hope clogged his throat and desire pressed down his tongue.

“You have a soulmark?” She asked after a lengthy pause.

“Y-yes, I do.” His voice cracked from bad nerves and excitement.

“I do too. Touch based.” Her eyes pierced through his soul and pinned him on the spot. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

“Cool. Super cool! I have one too, touch based like yours, yep! Cool!” Jon bobbed his head fervently, searching her gaze and found that she seemed to have the same idea as him. Her hand stretched to the middle of the table and waited for him to meet her in the middle. When he reached, slow and steady, it exposed the subtle quaking of his hand, revealing his inner feelings. He was comforted by the fact that her hand was shaking across from him too. It was a relief she felt the same.

Finally, the fingers touched, a small pale finger tapping two knuckles against the back of his. His shoulders tensed, Marinette mirroring him beat for beat as shoulder collapsed in devastation.

If Jon had thought that feeling Marinette’s heartbeat secondhand was an amazing feeling, then all the wonders of the accumulated sensation were nothing compared to this one touch. The pure physical sensation of another being pulsed through him, the echoing din that had been with him unnoticed all this time becoming known as he melted into himself, feeling it destroy him gently and lovingly.

“Wow,” Marinette breathed shakily. “Wow, I’ve, I never thought,”--an incredulous laugh-- “That was…”

She trailed off taking in his enraptured expression.

“Yeah, me too.” He grinned in wonder. His eyes bored into her own, falling deeper into her spell.

They stared at each other before Marinette finally broke the silence.

“Bonsoir.” She extended her other hand, unwilling to break contact.

“Hi.” He firmly grasped it, giving a strong shake. “Jonathan Kent, miss. Pleased to meet you.”

Marinette smiled beatifically. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The pleasure is all mine, Jon.”

The End

#maribatdrabbleexchange #marinette dupain-cheng #jonathan kent #marijon #maribat #marinette x jon

[snelbz]

The Ranch {5}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

The air was thick in the kitchen as Nesta stirred the sauce she was simmering in the skillet on the stove top. It was her secret recipe, one that won her the hearts of many overseas.

Feyre was seated at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of wine, staring daggers into Nesta’s back.

Nesta could feel her sister’s stare and she didn’t want to turn around to meet it.

Elain was supposed to be there.

She was running late.

“So,” Nesta began, clearing her throat. “I’m glad you came.”

Feyre said nothing.

Nesta stared into the skillet. “I plan to have a reopening for the B&B. Hopefully near the end of the summer. I was hoping you and Lainy could help.”

Still nothing.

Nesta’s jaw clenched as she dumped a stack of noodles into a pot on the back burner before turning over the breaded chicken on a separate burner. 

She could keep trying, but she would only be wasting her breath. Feyre and her hadn’t talked for years, Nesta knew it would be rough. But, she couldn’t live in Velaris without trying to reconnect with the only family she had left, which was why she had invited her sisters over for dinner.

If only Elain would hurry the fuck up.

Nesta reached for her own glass of wine and took a full swallow, turning and staring out the window.

She’d taken to cooking in the main house with its gorgeous up-to-date kitchen. It was the best way for her to still have a little piece of her old life. But the only problem with that meant that she couldn’t get away from him.

And as she gazed out over the pastures, the sun setting on the other side of the farm, she caught sight of his tanned, inked, muscular back as he led his horse back down towards the stables.

He’d shown up at the main house the day after their conversation, asking to talk to her. He had been almost bashful and seemed apologetic, but she’d barely slept the night before.

The last thing he’d said before he’d walked out kept repeating in her mind.

And to think I thought your own sister was wrong about you.

Nesta sighed, not meaning for it to be quite as dramatic as it was, and took another drink of her wine.

“So what made you decide not to fuck him?”

Nesta stilled, wine glass still lingering in front of her open lips. She cleared her throat, “What?”

“Cassian’s more open with Rhys and Az than you are with your own sisters,” Feyre said, hostility lacing her tone. “And, contrary to popular belief, he’s not the best at keeping his feelings hidden.”

Nesta slowly turned to face her youngest sister. She was sitting at the table, golden-brown hair high in a pony-tail. Her arms were crossed, her chin raised high, those gray-blue eyes that mirrored her own full of distaste. 

“That’s none of your business,” Nesta replied, shortly.

Feyre scoffed, shaking her head. “You wanted me to come over so we could start over. Well, I’m here, and I’m asking questions. You’re not off to a very good start in mending our relationship.”

Nesta wanted so badly to tell Feyre to fuck off, to get out, but she knew it was just the sudden rise in emotion talking. As her body filled with discomfort, Nesta turned back to the stove, nodding slowly. 

She continued to stir her homemade sauce as it simmered.

“It wasn’t right,” Nesta said, simply, words clipped. “I was drunk and got carried away.”

Feyre snorted. “Blame it on the alcohol-.”

“I was as drunk as I was because my sister slapped me in front of a fucking bar full of people,” Nesta snapped.

Feyre kept silent, and Nesta didn’t dare look back over her shoulder. It was true - true enough, anyway. Nesta had deserved to get slapped, no matter what she had told herself up until that point. But, it didn’t erase the fact that it left her embarrassed in a room full of people and shamed among her own family and friends - if they could even be considered friends, which, Nesta was pretty sure they couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” Feyre said, at last, “but, I’m not going to apologize for being pissed.”

Nesta nodded, curtly, staring into the skillet.

A minute passed before Feyre asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

This time, Nesta did look over her shoulder, brow raised.

With tight lips, Feyre shrugged. “I’m trying too.”

After a deep breath, Nesta decided that she should take the opportunity while it presented itself. If she didn’t, the opportunity might not come again. 

“He intrigued me,” Nesta began.

Feyre snorted. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”  

Shaking her head, Nesta leaned back against the counter top. “It wasn’t just the alcohol. Maybe some of it, but he did….I was intrigued. He’s handsome, obviously, and he was being kind. And we were alone, and I haven’t been alone with a handsome man in a long time, Feyre. But, then it all started, and I… Everything came back to me.” Her voice had become hushed, and she was staring at her crossed arms, at her index finger drawing circles around a freckle on her elbow. “The last time I was with a man was in college, and everyone knows how that turned out - including, apparently, Cassian, judging by the self loathing in his eyes when he tried to come in here to talk to me this afternoon.”

To Nesta’s surprise, some of the tension faded from Feyre’s shoulders and her eyes softened. “Cassian is a good guy, Nesta.”

“I’m his boss,” Nesta said. “Nothing good ever comes from that.” 

“He does this work so he can keep his house and do something he loves,” Feyre began, cocking her head to the side as she watched her sister. Nesta felt bare and vulnerable beneath that gaze. “He makes the money he lives off of elsewhere. You’re hardly his boss.”

Nesta disagreed, but she kept the comment to herself. Instead, she asked, “What does he do?”

Feyre hesitated. “That’s not my information to give out.” There wasn’t any rudeness to her voice, just fact.

Nesta tried to keep the frustration from her tone, but the small laugh that left her sounded bitter even to her own ears. “Yeah, all I keep getting told is that it isn’t illegal, and with all the secrecy, I’m starting to wonder.”

Feyre sighed. “Does he seem like the type to sell drugs, Nes?”

Nes.

Hearing the familiar nickname from her baby sister’s lips melted whatever ice had hardened between them at the change in subject and Nesta turned, sitting down in the barstool next to Feyre.

“We should...talk,” Nesta said, carefully.

Feyre, eyes wary, took another drink of her wine. Nesta could practically see the shields raising again. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“I know, we are, but I just-.” Nesta sighed. “We need to talk about me leaving.” Feyre clearly wasn’t expecting her to bring it up so directly, because she physically flinched. Nesta pressed on. “We need to talk about why I left, and how you felt, and what exactly happened. It’s been almost ten years. We’re big girls now, and I-.” Nesta hesitated again. “I want my baby sister back…”

Feyre’s eyes, the twin to Nesta’s own, softened and she opened her mouth to reply, but the back door burst open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Elain said, eyes darting between them both, a look of sheer panic on her face.

Feyre looked at Elain, at their sweet sister who was so concerned with their relationship, who just wanted to see her sisters back to normal, and turned back to Nesta. A soft smile graced her lips. “Let’s get coffee one day this week.”

Nesta nodded, a breath leaving her body as she said, “Okay.”

“What did I miss?” Elain asked, pulling out the stool next to Feyre’s.

“Everything,” Feyre assured her.

Elain frowned as she sat. “Even the Cassian thing?” she whispered, even though she was fully aware that Nesta was sitting right there and could hear perfectly clearly.

Feyre grinned as Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I’m not repeating any of it.”

Nesta pushed herself out of the chair and went back to the stovetop. Behind her, Feyre said, “We’ll blame Azriel, I assume it’s his fault you’re late.”

Elain’s cheeks had reddened when Nesta turned back around. “He came home on his break. He works late tonight.”

“Thought you both had the day off?” Nesta asked, reaching up into the cupboard for a mix of seasonings and spices.

Elain sighed. “Low man on the totem pole once more. They had two mechanics call out, so they needed him to come in and cover.” Feyre poured her a glass of wine and she nodded her thanks before taking a healthy sip. “On the plus side, it’s all overtime. So, we’ll take it.”

“Was Az hammered when he got home last night?” Feyre asked.

Elain snorted. “No, but he smelled like a frat house.”

“Rhys did, too!” Feyre laughed. “I made him shower before he could get back in bed.”

The two girls giggled and Nesta couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. At the familiarity, at the ease of conversation, not just about their relationships, but with each other.

All at once, Nesta was hit with just everything she’d missed.

She felt guilty, as she had a thousand times before, but it was different now, being with them as they chatted about their lives. Meanwhile, Nesta didn’t know Rhysand or Azriel, didn’t know anything about either of her sisters' relationships - just that they were in relationships with good men.

She cleared her throat and turned. She smiled and said, “Dinner is ready. Help yourselves and I hope you enjoy.” Both Feyre and Elain looked at her with their brows raised. “What?” She asked.

Elain said, “That was so…”

“Formal,” Feyre finished for her.

Nesta chuckled. “I’ve been cooking for prime ministers and dukes and millionaire CEOs. It’s a habit.”

Nesta felt a little lighter as her sisters grabbed a plate and filled them high. Once she had her own, Nesta sat with them at the table and asked, “So, tell me about Rhys. He proposed? How?”

“In our backyard,” Feyre said, chuckling as she swallowed a mouthful of pasta. “Holy shit, this is delicious.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said, grinning, “Now continue.”

“Right,” Feyre began, setting down her fork and clapping her hands together. “In our backyard, which may not seem very romantic, but I definitely sobbed. I got home from work and I could hear him playing in the backyard, he’s a musician. Well, in his free time, anyway. So, I follow the music to the backyard and he has the porch lit up with string lights. He was already down on one knee, playing his guitar, then he started singing. I was crying before the song was even finished, and it was a full on ugly cry by the time he asked me to marry him.”

Nesta chewed, slowly, eyebrows raised. “That’s incredibly romantic.”

Elain just rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “That’s the story we all hear, anyway, but we’ve known Rhys for a long time….”

Feyre laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Azriel swears it’s all made up,” Elain said, piling her fork high with noodles. “He swears Rhys doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.” 

“Either way,” Feyre went on, “it happened and Azriel and Cassian have given him shit since. They also beg to hear the song he wrote that he sang when he proposed, but that would only force them to give him more shit.”

Nesta laughed, quietly. “He sounds great. Rhys.”

“He is,” Feyre said, eyes growing soft as she took another bite.

“And Azriel?” Nesta asked, turning her attention to Elain.

“He’s great.” Elain said, smiling, repeating what Nesta had just said.

“I know he’s great, but tell me about him.” Nesta laughed. “I have ten years of things to catch up on.”

Feyre blinked a few times and said, “You really don’t remember any of them, do you?”

Nesta blushed. “I don’t. I feel awful, but…” She sighed. “You both know how I was in high school. I paid no attention to the people around me unless they were you two-.”

“Or Tomas Mandray?” Feyre cautiously asked.

Nesta’s teeth clacked together as her jaw hardened.

Before she could respond, Elain said, “I think there may be a few yearbooks in my closet. Let me look!”

“Please, don’t-.”

But Elain was already hurrying up the stairs, to her old bedroom, where her stuff was stored in a stack of tubs in the closet. Nesta let out a long breath as Feyre, completely humored, continued to eat her pasta. 

Elain had come back down the stairs a minute later, the yearbook from Nesta’s senior year held tightly against her chest.

“Okay,” she said, sitting back on her stool, plate forgotten for a moment. She flipped through the pages, to where the freshmen were listed, and displayed Feyre’s picture proudly.

Nesta laughed as Feyre groaned. “Bangs were not my thing.”

“I thought they looked cute,” Elain grinned, turning the page. “Ah, and here is Rhys, before he got all bulky and tattooed.” 

Nesta looked at the picture closely and huffed a laugh. “Ten years did him well.”

Feyre didn’t disagree.

Elain flipped through the book and a wide grin spread across her lips as she pointed to Azriel.

“He wears glasses?” Nesta asked.

“Contacts,” Elain said, nodding. “He doesn’t like his glasses.”

“I think they’re cute,” Feyre said, perching her chin on her fist atop the table as they all looked through the book. “Especially on prepubescent Az.” 

Nesta snorted as Elain flipped to the next page. “Ah, here’s Cassian.”

Nesta took a good look at the boy on the page. She could tell it was him, he was definitely familiar, but she didn’t remember him from then. His hair was a lot shorter, not at all close to the shoulder-length it was now. His face was clean, he probably couldn’t even grow facial hair then. But those hazel eyes were still full of mischief, even at seventeen as he stared into the camera. 

She didn’t remember any of them, though.

She had been too busy living in her own little world. 

The back door to the kitchen swung open, and as if he had known she’d been thinking of him, Cassian entered through the doorway.

He paused, hand still on the doorknob, as three sets of eyes shot his direction. Nesta’s heart began to thump wildly against her chest.

His chest, however, was bare, as Nesta assumed was the norm, and glistening with sweat. His hair was shoved back, tied behind his head. 

He blinked, and cleared his throat, “Uh, sorry. I just...was going to grab a bottle of water.”

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” Feyre asked, no doubt, Nesta assumed, trying to break the tension. 

She could hear the cheeky response before he said it, knew it would be something that would rag on her little sister as if she were his own. She’d bet, at this point, she practically was.

Instead of saying anything though, he pulled open the larger of the two fridge doors, and grabbed a couple of cold bottles of water. His eyes fell on the six pack in the door and as he turned, his eyes caught Nesta’s.

She couldn’t describe the emotions she saw roiling inside. Regret. Shame. Sadness. Anger. Frustration. Longing.

He looked like he wanted to say something, looked like he was going to ask her to talk. Nesta opened her mouth, to ask to do just that when he turned and said, “I’ll start on the stables tomorrow,” and left the kitchen without another word.

“So…” Elain said, sliding the yearbook to the middle of the kitchen table. “You want to tell me what’s going on between you two?”

Nesta stood, taking her still near full plate and scraping the contents into the trash, walking to the sink as she said, “Nothing. There’s nothing going on between us. He’s a ranch hand and I own the ranch.”

She didn’t turn as she turned on the water and began rinsing the plate.

There was a pause. “Doesn’t mean you two can’t be on friendly terms, right? I mean...that was…”

Elain’s words faded away, but then Feyre supplied, “Awkward as shit.” 

“Yeah…” Elain muttered.

“That’s not necessary,” Nesta said, opening the dishwasher and putting the plate inside. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t feel the need to discuss what happened that night, or the day before when she blew up at him in the kitchen.

Which, she shouldn’t have. She threatened to take away a job he loved, the home he lived in, and that wasn’t fair, no matter how pissed and mortified she was. 

“So, you’re just going to go along working together, and every time you’re in the same room, that’s going to happen?” Feyre asked. 

Nesta sighed, her face falling into her hands, her elbows leaning on the counter. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

Elain had hopped off her stool and was walking up behind her big sister. “Cassian’s a reasonable guy, Nesta. He obviously feels just as awkward about it all as you do. You should talk to him.”

She would rather stab herself in the eye.

Although, if she did that, she couldn’t see him riding through the pastures without a shirt on, and that would be a damned shame. 

“I don’t know,” Nesta sighed, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms. “We both said some pretty bad stuff. I mean, sure, I want a civil relationship, especially if he’s going to work for me. Sure, I wish I could take some of the things I said back. Sure, I-.” Sure, I’d love to see if the rest of him is as delicious bare as his chest is.

The final thought slammed through her, and she cleared her throat before she could voice it out loud. “The point is, not only did I say some stuff out of line, but so did he and-.”

“And he came and apologized.” Feyre said, looking at her as she refilled her wine glass. “Can you say the same?”

Yes, she should apologize, but she really, really didn’t want to. “Apologizing has never been a strength of mine,” she muttered.

Neither sister said a word.

Nesta groaned, again. “I don’t know-.”

“Bring him a beer,” Feyre suggested, taking a sip from her wine glass. “Beer is his love language. Oh, or whiskey. Yeah. Do that if you’ve got it. A nice bottle of whiskey goes a long way with that one. But do that later, you’ve got the beer now.”

“I can’t-.”

“Come,” Elain said, pulling on Nesta’s hand, dragging her toward the backdoor.

“I can’t!” she yelled, trying to pull her hand away.

Elain rolled her eyes, but now Feyre was standing in front of the backdoor, arms crossed.

“Cassian is one of our closest friends, we can’t have the two of you bringing that shit into our circle,” Feyre grinned. “Lainy, fix her boobs.”

“My wh- Elain!” Nesta cried, as Elain fixed her bra so that her breasts were pushed up, peeking out from her tank top.

“What?” Feyre blinked. “Beer and boobs. Two things you’ll have that Cassian can’t stay mad at.”

“I’m not going out there,” Nesta protested.

“Yes, you are,” Elain went on, hands on her hips. “And you’re going to apologize, because you want to, and because you should. And, because we want you back in our lives, Nesta...and Cassian is a big part of our lives. He’s a good man. Things need to be set straight, and made right.”

Feyre held up a can of beer from the fridge, where she was slowly walking back from. “The beer of peace.”

Nesta decided that Feyre was a little tipsy if she was being this nice, no matter how much progress they had made that evening. Either that, or she knew Nesta apologizing would be a disaster and she wanted to watch the show. 

“This is a conversation the two of us need to have by ourselves, I’ll stop by his cabin later-.”

“No, I don’t trust that one bit,” Elain said. “I won’t believe it if I’m not here to witness.”

“I’m the oldest,” Nesta snapped. “I don’t need you two treating me like a fucking child!”

Feyre just grinned wider as Elain looked at her older sister with big, pleading eyes. 

“Fine,” Nesta said, the word clipped. “But if I make things worse, I’m coming in here to kick both of your asses.” 

“Oh, we’ll be waiting,” Feyre assured her, although Nesta didn’t feel reassurance, whatsoever.

She snatched the beer out of Feyre’s hand, half tempted to shake up the can as she walked out towards the round pen he'd headed for when left. As she approached the half open gate, she glanced down at her chest, and toward the vast expanse of skin, ink and back muscles in front of her as Cassian brushed down one of the horses.

She set the can down on top of one of the fence posts, and listening to Elain and Fayre’s advice, adjusted her bra, lifting her breasts until they were damn near falling out of her top.

She wanted to fix them, to stuff them back down into her tank top, put on a hoodie, go back to the house and crawl in her bed. But even without turning around, she knew that both of her nosy, couldn’t stay in their own business sisters were currently staring out the window at her. And Cassian had noticed her and was heading this way.

Nesta picked up the beer and cleared her throat, stepping through the gate and into the pen.

His boots kicked up the dirt of the pen as he walked towards her, stopping just a few feet away, and Nesta did her best not to watch the bead of sweat that ran between his pecs and towards his abdomen.

She held out the beer. “This is for you.”

Cassian blinked. “Is it cold?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?”

He huffed a laugh, although it didn’t meet his eyes. He walked closer to her, then, and took the can from her outstretched hand, just as Nesta leaned into the railing.

As he popped the can open, his eyes had stopped on her overly-exposed breasts. They lingered, for a second too long, before he brought the can to his lips. 

“Thanks,” he said, after a minute.

He turned to walk away but Nesta blurted, “Do you need a hand?”

Cassian froze, one thick eyebrow raised. He slowly looked down at her feet. “You’re barefoot.”

She hadn’t had a second to put on her shoes before her sisters pushed her out the door.

Nesta shrugged. “Daisy’s calm enough.” She looked at the nearly all-white mare that Cassian was brushing. “I’ll be careful not to step in shit.”

Cassian chugged the rest of the can and set it back on the post before saying, “Why are you out here, Nesta? Have I done something else to make you disapprove of me?”

She rolled her eyes, frustration filling her. “I don’t even know why I came out here.” She turned to go back into the house.

“So you run?” Cassian asked, the volume of his voice raising slightly. “When something happens that you don’t like or you can’t control, you run.” Nesta paused where she’d been taking a step to go back to the house. The window where there’d been two nosy heads moments earlier was blessedly empty now. “Apparently you’re real good at it. This is the first time I’ve gotten to see it, you know, since you snuck out while my back was turned last time. But it seems to be your go to.”

Nesta had turned back to him, not speaking, just letting him get whatever this was off of his chest.

“What are you going to do when you decide you want to run from the ranch again, Nesta? Huh? Cause you’re coming out here, offering your help, tits out, no shoes, but I don’t even think you know the first thing about this place. What are you going to do when you have to help me bury a still born calf at four in the morning? What about when we have another year where we have to burn the entire field of crops?”

He grabbed the beer can and threw it across the pen. It bounced off the wooden fence with a ping!

“I’ve run this ranch on my own for the past four years. If you’re going to up and run out on me one day, I need you to go ahead and tell me now so I can decide whether or not this is the future for me.”

Nesta hesitated for a moment, unaware he was going to blow up on her like that. Although, she shouldn’t have been surprised. And she shouldn’t blame him. “And if I’m not?” 

Now it was Cassian’s turn to hesitate. “If you’re not what?”

“Going to leave,” she said, simply, chin raised. “Because I’m not leaving. My dad… Well, he left me this place and I intend to do my best to ensure that his legacy lives on. So, no, you giant ass, I’m not leaving. And, you’re right, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never been iinterested in ranching, and now that I own this shithole, I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?”

Cassian was watching her, perfectly still, as the the words poured out of her.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she continued, shaking her head, but she wasn’t looking at Cassian, not anymore. “I have no idea what I’m fucking doing!”

She knitted her fingers into her hair and leaned forward, groaning as she did. “I’m in so far above my head that it’s not even funny.”

Cassian stood there, watching as this woman who’d done nothing but plague his thoughts, day and night, proceeded to break down inside the round pen.

He didn’t know what to do. Whether he should leave her be or step forward and comfort her.

This strong, beautiful woman, who was more frustrating than any horse he’d tried to break and more confusing than them either.

He took a tentative step forward. “Look, we-,” he paused and scratched at the back of his neck. “Nesta, we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s- Can we start over? We’ll forget my stupidity and the other night and the times where you were a bit of a bitch…”

He looked at her to gauge her reaction to his joke. When her head snapped up and he saw a spark in those stormy eyes, he knew he’d struck home.

“When I was a bit of a bitch?” She laughed. “What about when you were a complete and utter dick?”

“I was going to leave that part out of my argument,” he murmured, but he was grinning, because the second she laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “You’re right. I was a dick, and I’m sorry.”

“I am, too,” she said, quietly, a small smile lingering on her mouth. “What I said out of anger and embarrassment….well, I said a lot that I shouldn’t have, and didn’t mean. I know you love this job, Cassian, and you’ve made a home here. I wouldn’t take that away from you. You know, unless you really piss me off.”

Cassian laughed, quietly, looking down at his boots. “Fair enough.” 

Nesta nodded, slowly, then looked back over her shoulder, where Elain and Feyre were once again watching through the kitchen window. She scowled.

Cassian noticed, too, once he looked back up, because he shook his head and laughed. “Alright, city girl,” he began, handing her a brush. “You wanna help? If your sisters are watching, at least give them a show.” 

She grabbed the brush from his outstretched hand and took a step toward Daisy, but Cassian was laughing, quietly, as he watched.

She froze. “What?”

Cassian just shook his head. “We’re going to have to get you some boots.”

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #toab tacmc collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian

[twokinkybeans]

Company - Chapter 1: Samhain

Moodboard made by Kim <3

“I know you need a miracle right now to help with all of this  and- well, I don’t really know anyone who’s good at that kinda stuff, but... “ MJ scoffs an awkward laugh before continuing. “I mean, the help  of a Fae would be nice, but it’s not that those just show up if you ask  them to.” “A Fae?” Peter chuckles, though his eyes don’t spark. “Like Puck? From the play we had to do at Summer camp?” “Sort of,yeah!” MJ grabs Peter’s other hand and places both of them on his  knees, resting her own on top. “But I’m playing with you, Pete. It’d be a stretch to find one willing to help,” MJ says. Lucky for Peter, he is quite flexible. Or: May's health is deteriorating fast and Peter is running out of  options (and money), so he goes into the woods at night on Halloween to find a Fae willing to help him out. ____________________________________________

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of chronic/incurable illness, blood, etc. Magic and folklore. Slow burn with resolved sexual tension. Lots of mischief, a bit of spooks and of course fluff, angst and smut.

Go to the Masterpost Read Company - Chapter 1: Samhain on AO3

HERE IT FINALLY IS AAAA, I hope you enjoy! <3 -Lien

... “If it makes you feel any better, I could do a ritual for her?” MJ’s words struck a chord with Peter. He knows she’s always reserved about her Paganism, aware that it’s not a conventional religion. So, this came as quite the surprise. “I-” Peter is at a loss for words as he sinks down into the sofa, eyes locked on the dried, bloody patch in the cushions. This means a lot to MJ, which, in turn, means a lot to Peter. Her connection with her beliefs is strong and deep. She doesn’t say something like this to just anyone. “Yeah…” he sighs, absentmindedly tracing the stain with his index finger. “I’d appreciate that.” Peter hates how formal his reply sounds but MJ smiles encouragingly anyways. She sits down on the floor in front of him and grabs his hand away from the patch of blood and the sour memory attached to it, to make him look down at her. Her hair is up in a messy bun, the flyaways frame her face playfully and she grins up at him. MJ’s been helping him clean the apartment the last few weeks with zero complaints whatsoever. All she said was: “One day, I’ll need your help and then you’ll be there for me too.” It’s true. He’d do anything for her, as he would for Ned. And May . About two months prior, May had suffered a hypo so severe she had to be taken to the hospital. She recovered enough that she could spend the rest of her time at home, but the damage had already been done. Not just physically. Peter had to sell pretty much everything worth anything that he owned in order to cover even a quarter of the bills. Both his and May’s savings had gone into the treatment and now they had next to nothing left, which posed another issue: the insulin. They wouldn’t be able to afford her medication for a while, which meant May was at a constant risk. She wasn’t strong enough to go back to work, but the fact that the meds weren’t there to help her with her recovery meant that it wasn’t going fast. On the contrary. She was deteriorating. But she also decided to keep that from Peter for as long as she could. She didn’t want him to worry about her, nor did she want him to take any other measures in order to get her her meds. Peter noticed, though. May always hated wearing her prescription glasses. But a little over four weeks ago, while Peter was studying at the dinner table, she asked him to fetch them for her. And even as the glasses were on her head, she still squinted- still brought the book further and closer, further and further. Her eyes were getting worse, but she blamed it on her age. Peter knew better. May knew Peter knew better. With the lack of money, good food was out of the picture too. Everything May would need to recover and live a healthy life was figurative miles away- out of reach. It was difficult to determine her body’s needs without the right equipment and she felt lifeless and tired most of the time. She started dropping stuff, accidentally. And her walk became stick-like. Her hands and feet were ice-cold, and she had to wear her mother’s old compression socks to keep her circulation under control. It became increasingly more difficult for her to run errands, though she tried. There was no way she was going to give up. And there was no way she was going to let Peter in on it, regardless of whether or not he noticed. He’d experienced enough loss, she wasn’t going to burden him with any more anxiety. However, the fact that she didn’t talk to him about it, even when he asked or confronted her, only increased his fears. His nights were sleepless. Restless. His mind ran with doom scenarios. What if. What if. What if. A few days before MJ first helped him with the cleaning, Peter found May on the sofa again, casually reading a book when he noticed her leggings around her ankles were a deep red colour. Not the khaki shade he’d seen when he left for uni that day. “May, what’s that?” He’d asked. When she lifted the book - which she was now reading with a magnifying glass - to follow Peter’s glare, she exclaimed a surprised: “Oh!” May aimed to get up from the sofa, but ultimately lost her balance and dropped back into it again. The sofa cushion was stained, just like her feet were. Peter immediately ran over to her and helped her compose herself but she broke down. Tears streamed down her face and the only words that she could utter were unneeded apologies and heavy-weighing regrets. She sobbed against Peter’s shoulder and it took him every inch of willpower not to lose himself to his sadness as well. Apparently, May went downstairs to grab the mail and on the back way up, she tripped, hitting the lower part of her ankles on the steps. She thought it was okay- that she was fine, but she couldn’t feel the wounds underneath her clothes. She hadn’t noticed the blood seeping out from them, not even when she sat down on the sofa and blurred her sight even further with the book. When she was calm again, after taking in all of Peter’s encouraging, hopeful words, he told her to stay seated so he could patch her up. He carefully took off one of the compression socks and tossed it onto the coffee table. It’d be easier to get the stain off of there than the light rug he was now sitting on. Her foot was freezing and he swallowed when he saw the damage on her ankle. He grabbed the first aid kit and cleaned her up. After her first leg was all ready, he moved on to her other. Gently, he pulled at the hem of the other compression sock, but before he could toss it onto the table, he spotted her pinky toe. It was darkening. Dying. That’s when Peter broke. “I know you need a miracle right now to help with all of this and- well, I don’t really know anyone who’s good at that kinda stuff, but... “ MJ scoffs an awkward laugh before continuing. “I mean, the help of a Fae would be nice, but it’s not that those just show up if you ask them to.” “A Fae?” Peter chuckles, though his eyes don’t spark. “Like Puck? From the play we had to do at Summer camp?” “Sort of, yeah!” MJ grabs Peter’s other hand and places both of them on his knees, resting her own on top. “But I’m playing with you, Pete. It’d be a stretch to find one willing to help.” Peter smiles, but he makes a mental note nonetheless. Not that he thinks Fae are real; that’d be kind of insane. “Anyways, what I wanted to say is that… Well, whatever happens, I’m here for you, ‘kay? And for May, too.” “Thanks, MJ.” Peter’s expression softens as MJ stands up. “Now, let’s finish up so I can go home and perform that ritual.” She winks and helps Peter to his feet. He’s not sure how to express his gratitude any further. Should he ask to be there? Or is it private? It’s not like he knows much about Paganism anyways. He’s interested, though. Peter is desperate, sure, but he never imagined he would be this desperate. As soon as MJ is out the door, he grabs his notebook to scribble down everything he thinks he knows about Fae. Fairies- whatever. He even re-reads Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream , the play he had a part in last Summer. Puck’s lines- his lines- were still marked. “It’d be a stretch to find one willing to help,” MJ said. Lucky for Peter, he is quite flexible. … Peter knows it’s ridiculous. Fae can’t be real. It’s folklore. A story. Yet… Peter still finds himself seated behind the library computer that still runs on Windows XP, somehow. Every day, he tells himself he should stop looking up information on Fae. That he should study. Regardless of his attempts to set himself straight, his fingers still type the wrong things into the search bar. To say his obsession is bordering unhealthy is an understatement, to be honest. He just wants May to live a full and happy life. He wants May to live. And at this point he’s willing to try anything. He can’t lose her too; she’s all he has left. It’s nearly Halloween, or Samhain in the Pagan religion. On this day, the border between the world of humans and Fae should be relatively thin, which means the odds would be in his favor if he were to look for a Fae then. Samhain’s in two days, so there’s no time to lose. Every trick, every single thing that could harm Peter’s safety has to be ingrained in his brain. Yes, he would do anything to save May, but it’d be nice if he got to spend some time with her after. The most important things Peter noted for himself are “don’t accept anything from a Fae, especially not food,” “don’t listen to their music and definitely don’t dance with them,” and the one that Peter knew he would most likely slip on: “don’t give them your name. Under any circumstance.” Peter quickly decided that if any Fae asked for his name, he would just say his name is Ned, for a lack of creativity. … Samhain’s Eve, or Halloween. Peter squeezes his way into the train. He’s very grateful that the New York council had decided that students get to travel the subways for free. Otherwise, he’d have no idea how he would’ve gotten out of the city and into the suburbs. Towards the woods. May is with a friend tonight to give Peter some breathing space, but the opposite is true. The anticipation has knocked the air out of Peter’s lungs. Peter manages to sit down next to a few kids, dressed up for trick or treating. He offers them a nervous smile, clutching his backpack against his chest. The journey out of New York seems to flash by as much as it takes an eternity. After about two hours of travel, Peter steps out of the last possible station and breathes in the cold October air. With an old fashioned map of the area and a thrifted flashlight, Peter finds his way into the woods. He knows he has to get off the paths at some point, but the mere idea frightens him to the core. He’s suddenly not so sure anymore if this was a good idea in the first place. Maybe… Maybe he should turn around? Settle on the couch and watch some bad horror movies? That’d surely be a lot safer than whatever he’s doing right now. Peter’s feet don’t stop, though. He keeps going forward, his mind telling him to go back, but his heart cannot refrain from reaching out for May. For answers. For hope, no matter how little he may have left. He can feel his blood pump through his body, experiencing how it grows heavy with every step he takes. The distinct ache of loneliness in his chest grows tighter and tighter. It’s cold, it’s dark, he’s alone. Utterly and indescribably alone. His eyes are fixated on the path in front of him. So much so, that he doesn’t realize he loses track of his map. Worst of all, he only gets back to his senses when the flashlight starts flickering dangerously. “No,” Peter whispers, shaking the tool. “No-no-no-no-” “Need a hand?” Peter yelps and turns, stumbling backwards until he trips over himself and collides with the harsh ground. He looks up at the man, now towering over him, hand outstretched. The flashlight is on again, lying next to Peter and illuminating the fallen leaves, creating a pattern against the trees just off the path. The stranger has a kind smile. He seems to be in his forties, hair still dark and crow’s feet enunciating his smile. Peter sighs exasperated, reaching forward to take the man’s hand until… No, wait, who is this man? Peter turns his head to grab the flashlight and when he shifts back to the man, it flickers again. Peter loses his breath when the man’s irises seem to light up in the short dark moments. The man’s smile doesn’t falter, even when Peter’s expression drops. On the contrary, the smile turns into a smirk and all that’s left for Peter to look at when the flashlight finally dies is a pair of intense, golden glowing eyes. “What’s a young sprite like you doing in these woods? At this hour?” The man’s illuminated eyes lower and lower until he’s at eye level with Peter, who’s still staring at him. “I-I... “ Peter takes a deep breath. “I’m looking for someone.” The man leans in closer, near-hovering over Peter’s body. Peter tries to move back, but the man follows. “Are they lost? Like you?” His voice is strangely beautiful. Deep. Close. “No, no- It’s... “ “Do you have their name? If you give it to me, I can find them for you.” Peter’s nearly laying down now, the man’s hands caging him at his sides, but not touching him. In a flash of half confidence, Peter replies: “Are you a Fae?” A dark chuckle rumbles below the golden eyes that now squint with glee. “I am many things.” “I’m too, that doesn’t answer the question, though.” Shit. Shit-shit-shit, why did Peter’s sassy side decide to show up when he’s in the clutches of someone who is definitely not human and could probably kill him without thinking about it twice. Instead of getting angry, the man laughs yet again. “Fair enough, boy.” The eyes pull back and Peter quickly scrambles until he stands, so that he can look down at the man this time. “I am what you say I am.” The man pauses as he stands up too. There’s a short shuffle and suddenly, a small fire appears in the man’s palms. The way it lights up his face is an odd combination between warm and creepy. “Does that frighten you?” “N-no.” “Your stutter betrays your lies.” Peter wants to protest, but the man suddenly raises his hand, eyeing Peter curiously. “Were you looking for me?” The man’s words send a chill through Peter’s entire body. He presses his lips on top of each other and fiddles with his fingers. “Maybe.” “So, yes.” “Yes.” The man smiles again. “And why were you looking for me?” “I’m not looking for you specifically.” “Ouch,” the man chuckles. “You’re looking to use my power.” Peter’s jaw tightens. It almost feels like an accusation. Like it’s hurtful to the Fae that Peter’s only there for that. Peter swallows. Now that he puts it like that, it does sound a little mean. “Why?” “It’s… It’s a long story,” Peter says as he looks down at his feet. The light of the fire in the Fae’s hands creates a bubble of light around them. They’re still surrounded by utter darkness, save for a few faint silhouettes of the trees around them. “I have all night.” The man nods, but stops halfway down, seemingly mulling something over. “What did you say your name is, again?” “P-” Peter barely catches himself. Simply saying the first letter of his name already makes him feel a strange, otherworldly tug at his heart. He can’t say Ned now. He already started the word. What name could he possibly give to the Fae? Peter composes himself quickly as the gears in his mind turn fast. Fae. “Puck.” “Ha!” The man laughs bombustuously. “Fitting for a sweet and pretty young man as you. Though, you are not a Fae.” The man wiggles his eyebrows. “Or are you?” Peter opts to ignore the flirtatious compliment. “Am not. You and I both know I shouldn’t give you my real name.” Peter takes a deep breath, relatively pleased with himself for talking back. “You may call me Puck.” “Puck.” The Fae breathes in the name as he closes his glowing eyes. “I’ll call you Puck.” “And what should I call you?” Peter asks carefully. A playful smirk creeps up on the Fae’s face. “I go by many names in these woods. Some call me Inventor. Others call me Iron Man. You may call me Tinker.” Peter can’t help himself and bursts out laughing. “Tinker?” he repeats. “As in Tinkerbell?” The Fae sighs exasperated. It seems like he’s heard that before. “No.” He rolls his golden eyes. “I make things. I tinker. But I suppose you deem the nickname unworthy?” The flame in his hands grows bigger for a split second. “If you’ve got anything else, I’ll gladly call you that,” Peter chuckles. “Inventor… Iron Man. Wait, isn’t iron a Fae’s weakness?” The man laughs softly. “It’s why they call me it. I am one of the few who feels no effect from iron, or technology, for that matter.” The man nods at Peter’s pants. “So, the screwdriver in your pocket is quite a lousy weapon against me.” The playful smirk returns on his face. “Or are you just happy to see me?” “I- I-” Peter takes a step back, wide-eyed, and looks at the tool in his pocket. The man knew he had it on him. Peter shivers. “I like you, Puck,” the man says suddenly. He takes a step closer to Peter, who is stuck in place. The warmth of the fire in the man’s hand now reaches Peter’s skin. It’s… Nice. Comforting, somehow. “There is something about you that I can’t quite put my finger on.” “I’m nothing special, sir,” Peter says politely, breaking eye contact and looking down again. “I’m just here to help my aunt.” “Your… Aunt?” Peter tells him the entire story. About May’s diabetes, without mentioning her name, and the inevitability of amputations and likely death if things keep going the way they are. The Fae listens thoughtfully, not breaking eye contact with Peter the entire time. The man doesn’t flinch, not even when Peter’s voice starts breaking and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “I shouldn’t be this vulnerable with you,” Peter suddenly interrupts himself, attempting to swallow away the lump in his throat. The Fae finally changes expression. A kind smile spreads on his face and he nods. “A wise assumption.” The man cocks his head and rolls his shoulders, still looking down at Peter. “Though, I am not interested in tricking you right now. I prefer my catch on guard. I like a challenge.” “Good to know,” Peter sighs, tightening his jaw again in an attempt to stop his emotions getting the better of him. “Company.” The Fae’s voice is soft, nearly melancholic. “What?” Peter takes a small step back and frowns, quickly wiping away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. The soft breeze glides between the trees and tickles his face. It makes the flame in the Fae’s hand dance. Peter blinks once. Twice. “I’d much appreciate it if, in return for helping your aunt, you keep me company.” If Peter knew any better he’d say there was a hint of desperation seeping from Fae’s words. Is he lonely? The spark of hope grows brighter in Peter’s chest. May might just survive, if the Fae doesn’t screw him over. Peter takes a second to ponder his words. “How long?” “Bargain for it, boy.” Peter sucks at his teeth and takes a deep breath. He has no idea what kind of price he has to pay. What’s normal. Though, about a week ago he didn’t even think Fae existed, so everything was a wild guess at this point. “I- I don’t know… What would you ask of me?” Peter fumbles, wrapping one hand around the index finger of the other and pulling at it absentmindedly. It’s a nervous tick he couldn’t seem to shake and it betrays his uncertainty. Suddenly, the Fae pushes into his space, making Peter stumble backwards again. He barely keeps himself from tripping over and the Fae cocks his head playfully. “You and I both know I’d rather have your name, but you won’t give that to me, would you?” His tone darkens and he orders. “Bargain.” “Two days. Consecutive. So, 48 hours?” Peter tries. A bargain means the Fae will start with a higher price. If they’re going to work to a middle ground, 48 hours might be a good starting point. “Two days?” The Fae sighs dramatically and raises the back of his hand to his forehead. “You wound me.” The Fae stands up straight again, putting the same hand on his hip and puffing his chest. The flame in his hand grows brighter and brighter. “Eight. Consecutive.” “Mh, three.” “Six…” The Fae’s tone is threatening somehow, but Peter won’t give in that easily. “Four, separate meetings, not consecutive.” The Fae’s laughter shakes the trees and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye before he continues. “Is that all you think your aunt’s precious life is worth, Puck?” Peter jolts and immediately shakes his head. “Y-You told me to bargain!” “Hmm… So I did.” The Fae steps closer to Peter, refraining from touching him, but Peter can feel his hot breath on his skin. The Fae smells of pine and Peter has to set his mind straight to look away from him. He didn’t realize he’d been staring straight into the Fae’s golden eyes. “I really do like you.” Peter shudders. The Fae then pulls back again and nods approvingly. “Four days it is. How about we meet every upcoming celebration up until Beltane?” Peter doesn’t know how to reply, so instead, he keeps quiet. His silence isn’t taken kindly, though. The Fae clears his throat and looks at Peter from behind his long lashes. He smirks. “Have we come to an agreement?” Peter isn’t sure whether or not he should say yes straight away. There’s something that’s still missing from this contract and the last thing Peter wants is to be tricked. “Your medicine has to work completely, otherwise the deal is off,” he states resolute. The Fae chuckles. “Clever boy,” the Fae sighs as he circles Peter. Goosebumps spread over the young man’s entire body. “I cannot cure an illness like hers, but I can ensure she does not suffer. I will help your aunt live a long, full and healthy life, regardless of the ailment she carries with her.” The Fae sniffs once and cocks an eyebrow at Peter’s reply. “Whatever means necessary?” “Whatever means necessary.” “Deal.” The Fae grins and tilts his head slightly. “Good boy.” Peter shivers and takes in a deep breath. That voice . Those words . They shouldn’t do as much to Peter as they actually do. He should be scared. Yet, this whole thing is kind of… Exciting, in a way… Invigorating. “Do you think you can find your way back?” The man asks, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. He looks around and into the darkness, which causes his heart to sink. “I’m not sure.” “You can say no, Puck. It’s alright,” the Fae jokes. “If you are comfortable with following me, I can lead you back to the nearby town.” Peter eyes the Fae cautiously. “A human town.” “With a train connection into New York?” “If I knew, I’d tell you. But a town is better than infinite darkness, isn’t it?” The man grins cheekily and gestures around. Peter looks into the dark, realizing that if he doesn’t agree, the Fae will leave him here alone. Without light. “Please, take me there?” His voice is smaller than he hoped it was. “Only because you asked so nicely.” Peter isn’t sure how long they’re walking. The man doesn’t say much, but Peter can’t help but notice he tries to keep the flame close to Peter to keep him warm. He’s kinder than he thought Fae would be, but there is a small weight of dread in Peter’s stomach. What if the Fae did trick him? What if he’s being led somewhere else? His worries fade when he spots a brick house in the distance. He releases the breath he’d been holding and turns to look at the Fae.

“Thank you.” “Of course,” the Fae replies. He seems lost in thought. “Are you okay?” Peter asks quietly. The man seems surprised by his question. “Yes, eh… It’s just been a while since I’ve… Well... “ The man frowns and looks away. “Nevermind.” He leans back on his heels and uses the hand that still carries the flame to point at the path ahead. “If you take a right after the first house, the road you’ll be on should lead you into town.” Peter stares at the man and the sad expression that is still on his face. It confirms Peter’s earlier thoughts. The man is lonely. Peter bites the inside of his cheek. The Fae obviously doesn’t want to talk about whatever is bothering him, and since Peter doesn’t want to push him over any edge, he decides to leave it. For now. “Thanks.” He starts walking away from the Fae, but halts after a few steps. “Is there something small you want in return?” Peter replies. The man blinks a few times, confused. “You did help me.” Peter shrugs. “I... “ The man stops his sentence, purses his lips and frowns. “Ahh,” Peter smirks. “There is something you want.” “You’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” The man’s eyes giddily light up for a split second. “Only with people I’m comfortable around.” Peter replies without thinking. A soft “oh” falls from the Fae’s lips. Peter tries to lighten the mood. “Bargain for it,” he says. The Fae looks at him dumbfounded, but collects himself. It’s odd to see him suddenly turn shy. “Is a hug too much to ask for?” “A hug?” Peter repeats surprised. The Fae looks away rejected, so Peter continues quickly. “A hug should suffice.” Peter smiles as he steps towards the Fae. He opens his arms, but pauses. “Do… Do you want me to give you a hug, or do you want to… Take one from me?” Peter doesn’t know why he asked it. Obviously, he should be giving the hug in return for the directions. But something about how the man stood there, tells him differently. “May… May I?” Peter nods encouragingly and before he can even blink, he feels the Fae’s arms wrapped around his body. It feels strangely… Cold? One of his hands finds its way into Peter’s curls. The other presses Peter against him tightly. Peter is completely enveloped in the man’s presence. It’s comforting, somehow, to feel the Fae’s warm breath on his ear. The flame the Fae held has disappeared, but his hands are still tingling with heat, even though the rest of his body seems so cold. “Thank you,” the man whispers quietly. Peter has no idea how long he had been held in the Fae’s embrace, but he had to admit, he kind of didn’t really want to leave. He hasn’t had a hug like this since Ben died. He should let go, obviously. There’s still a small voice in the back of his head, telling him that this is a trick to make him stay. To make him say or do things that would result in him never being able to go home. But Peter can practically feel the man’s sorrow aching against his chest. “Of course,” Peter replies, once again mimicking the man’s words. The Fae finally pulls back, but he doesn’t yet let go of Peter. He seems to be looking for something in Peter’s eyes, but he can’t find what he searches for. Eventually, he clears his throat and lets go. “I’ll see you when Yule graces us.” “When’s that?” Peter asks innocently. The man smiles and cocks his head. “Around your Christmas.” “Ah,” Peter says with a nod. “Well, see Yule then.” Peter wiggles his eyebrows and finger guns. He’s about to hit himself in the head to condemn his stupidity, but what he doesn’t expect, isthe man bursting out laughing. The sound fills Peter’s heart with warmth. The Fae‘s laughter eventually dies down and then he nods at the path ahead. “I will visit your aunt soon, before this week ends. Thank you, Puck.” Peter grins and turns towards the town, continuing his journey home. After about ten feet, he stops again, though. There was a question nagging at his mind that he hadn’t yet gotten the answer to. “What do I call you?” The Fae looks down at the ground between them and starts walking backwards. “Oberon,” he says softly. He smiles one last time before retreating into the dense woods. “You may call me Oberon.”

#Company fic #ironspider #starker #twokinkybeans company #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #peter x tony #peter/tony #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #tony x peter #tony/peter #fae!tony #human!peter #adult peter parker #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #starker fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #spiderman #spider-man #ironman #iron man

[justjessame]

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 1

When I bought the secondhand bookstore in South Boston, my dad thought I'd lost my mind. What was I, a native West Virginian, going to do all alone in Boston? Sell books, I'd thought. And live my life, finally, I added.

I had spent a healthy portion of my life being the perfect daughter. The one who gave and gave and made sure that I did everything in my power to make my parents proud. I gave everything to everyone, until there was little left for myself. Now, at thirty years old, I could finally have something for myself.

Besides which, have you ever seen Boston? It's gorgeous and colorful. However, when my dad helped me move into the apartment I'd leased within walking distance to my new, old store "As the Page Turns" he wasn't impressed.

"Really, Tessa?" He asked, looking around. "You're going to be homesick. This place is too noisy, it's too dirty. You're going to miss good ol' West Virginia."

Dirty and noisy? Coal mines, I thought, and the plants that made it smell or shot smoke up into the air weren't the same? Instead of arguing, I diverted him with the manual labor of the move. "You going to help me with this bed, Dad? Or should I ask a neighbor?" That got him moving.

It didn't cure his nagging. Not before he headed home, nor after he'd arrived. It made the weekly phone calls a bit of a hassle. I wanted to talk about how I was making my store a success. He wanted to bring up the things I'd left behind. I wanted to discuss the changes I made as the money started to come in earnest. He wanted to listen for a sign of homesickness. Not a call passed without at least one, "You ready to come home yet?"

Two years, I thought, walking to work in the early morning sun. I was smiling. I loved my life. I was busy. I made the store a reasonable success, adding a coffee bar and pastries to the space. And I had regulars and new customers almost daily. Success was sweet, I thought, as I unlocked the beveled glass front door and listened to the comforting jingle of the bell.

The phone rang almost as soon as I dropped my bag behind the counter. Since I wouldn't be opening for another half an hour, I had a pretty good guess of who was calling.

"Morning, Dad!" I answered, taking the cordless phone with me to start up the coffee and espresso machines. I wondered if his call would be over by the time my daily pastry delivery came. "What's up?"

"Tessa, you shouldn't answer the business phone like that." He admonished. Great start, Dad, I thought. "Why don't you have your cell phone on?"

Ugh, I thought, the chastisement with a side of criticism. Lucky me.

"My Blackberry is in my pocket. I must not have heard the call come in." I answered. "Sorry, Dad." Tessa, I thought, stop fucking apologizing, you're an adult. "How are you? Is something wrong?"

I heard him sigh. "Yes, in Boston."

"What?" I asked, wandering the store to make sure I'd put everything in order when I'd closed the evening before. The counters were clean, the leftover pastries went to the soup kitchen nearby, and the shelves were stocked and orderly.

"Don't you read or watch the news?" Irritation was so heavy on his voice that I could feel the glare across states. Why couldn't my parents have had another child so I could share this guilt and misery? "Those vigilante murderers are back in Boston. I think you should come home."

I rolled my eyes. "Dad, I do watch the news. It's just been busy. This past week's been insane." I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension build. "And why would I care about vigilantes? Didn't they kill mob people? I sell used books and coffee." Logic, I thought, would hopefully work. "Why would I be in danger?"

"Tessa, they killed a priest." He groaned. "Why wouldn't you listen to me before running away to Boston?"

Running away? I was thirty years old when I relocated, for fuck's sake. "Dad, I'm not Catholic, nor are you." I reminded him gently. "I'm certainly not a priest." I let out a sigh I hadn't noticed I was holding. "I'm fine. I'm happy." The stress moved from my shoulders to my neck belying my words. "I'll be safe. Besides, I highly doubt they've returned. And even if they had, they couldn't be stupid enough to come back to their old stomping grounds."

Another sigh and groan from his end. "You never used to be this stubborn." Yeah, because I was too busy making sure everyone else was happy. "Didn't you tell me the bar they used to frequent was close to your store?"

Damn it. Why had he remembered that tidbit in all that I'd told him about my store? Why couldn't he recall how excited I'd been at finding the rare book one of my customers had asked for? And why had I thought sharing the 'local colorful history' of my new home with my overbearing dad? In my defense, I didn't know that someone would kill a priest.

A tap came to the front door and I nearly cheered at the interruption. "Dad, I have to go, my pastries are here." Rushing through another round of I'll be safe and ending with round of "I love yous".

I let out another sigh and ran to unlock the door. The jingle of the bell calmed me a bit as Marco, the bakery's delivery guy came in with the first load of boxes. As I rolled my shoulders and tried to crack my own neck to release the tension, Marco left for the second and last load. After checking to make sure everything was accounted for, I offered him his usual tip. A double espresso.

"Ah, that hits the spot, Tess." He smiled. "You ok?"

I assured him I was fine and we chatted about this and that.

"Better hit the road. Don't want the boss to get pissed." He said, tossing the small cup in the trash. "See ya tomorrow." I waved him out.

"Could you flip my sign?" I asked, and he smiled and did it. "Later, Marc."

I moved to fill the pastry case. Using the decorative towers and plates that I'd picked up at one of the Farmer's Market stalls. The jingle of the bell made me raise up and offer my usual greeting. "Welcome to As the Page Turns, can I help you?"

He was taller than me, but then again almost everyone was. His incredibly blue eyes crinkled with a smile as he took me in behind the counter. The pastry boxes were almost all empty and the display was filled. I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a loose v-neck brown t-shirt, and a pair of canvas sneakers. My auburn hair piled loosely into a bun on the top of my head and my ever present and much needed glasses perched on my nose, not thick enough to hide my green eyes.

Since he was clearly inventorying my assets as it were, I decided to do the same for him. Dark hair, looking like he'd used shears to cut it in the dark, crowned his head. His skin was sun kissed but not tan, and he wore a peacoat, black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. I could see a bit of a tattoo peeking from the collar of his coat on the left side of his neck. Another tattoo was on his right hand, along his index finger. A word, "AÈQUITAS". Huh, Latin. Justice? I felt a tingle of curiosity.

His smile turned to a smirk and I waited, raising an eyebrow under my glasses. I had my usual customer service smile on, but felt a little smirk of my own forming. Both confirming our inspection of the other, and finding it agreeable. He finally spoke.

"'Eard dis wus de place fer a master coffee on dis street." His Irish brogue is full and strong.

"Did you now?" I asked, my smile widening. "Whose singing my praises?"

"Doc." Ah, I thought. The sweet, if a bit different, owner of Mcginty's Bar, the place my dad had brought up in his call.

"What can I get you?" I asked, grinning at the thought of how many day drinkers Doc sent my way to sober up. This man, however, looked like he had recently woken up. Perhaps,he had a late night, if the slight red in the white of his eyes were telling the tale properly.

"Two av the largest black coffee yer 'av. Strong." He answered. A late night then, I smiled.

"Shot of espresso sounds in order." His eyebrows raised. "Don't look alarmed, I'll add it to the regular coffee." I turned to the machine behind me and started the two cups. "How is Doc?" I asked over the noise and my shoulder.

"'E's gran. Jammers, oi tink." Jammers, I thought, trying to make sense of the words he used. Traffic jams came to mind so I translated that Doc was busy. I had plenty of Irish immigrant customers, and I was slowly learning some of their vernacular. It was rough going, but interesting.

Capping the two large cups with black lids and sliding them into the brown sleeves that would protect my customers from burning themselves on the heat pouring from the hot coffee inside, I turned. "Well, tell him I'll try to stop over this afternoon with his favorite treat." I handed him the coffee. "Are you new in town?"

He shot me a strange look, but seeing me waiting behind the till, he gave another grin. "Aye, just visitin' for business." He chuckled at his own joke. "Ye new? Yisser accent is different."

I had heard that a great deal when I moved here. "Yep, I'm from West Virginia." My smile stayed in place. He's an odd duck, I thought, but Doc never sent me anyone dangerous or violent, so I felt safe. "Hope you enjoy your visit." I told him his total and he handed me a large bill. Opening the register to give him his change he waved me off.

"Naw, lassy, that's for yer." His smile was sweet, but the tip was twice as much as his coffees cost. I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me again. "Naw, oi ill in my brown 'ear it. Doc acts loik de sun shines from yer side av de street an' oi can tell why. Yer take care av 'imself, an' we take care av ours."

"Doc's a sweetheart. He reminds me of my late grandpa." I answered, smiling at the jist of what he said. "It's no hardship to check in on him." I put the extra cash under the drawer. If this strange man came back, his coffee was paid for. "I'm Tessa, by the way." I held out my hand.

"Murphy." He answered, simply, taking my hand. His hands were calloused and rough. Like the men I was raised around and the ones working in the factories here.

"Nice to meet you, Murphy." I said, my smile genuine.

The bells on the door jingled again. Another strong Irish voice called out before I could give my standard greeting. "So that's wha yer were- keepin' company wi' a juicy lassy instead av bringin' de coffee, yer arse."

I looked up and the usual greeting caught in my throat. Dear Lord, I thought, the dim light of the store allowing the beams of early morning sun to settle around the newcomer like a halo. Sun bleached brown hair, cut as haphazardly as Murphy's, light blue eyes, and scruff on the planes of his tanned face. Clearing my throat and my mind of how beautiful he was, I finally found my voice.

"Welcome to As the Page Turns." Jesus, why did I sound squeaky and breathless at the same time? "Guess one of these is yours?" I gestured at the two cups on my counter.

He turned his full attention to me and my mouth went dry as I watched him take the same inventory of me as Murphy had. Only this time I felt inadequate. I fought the urge to squirm.

"Damn it, Conner, stop starin' at 'er loike she's bill skinner. She looks loike a colt ready ter bolt." Murphy's voice broke the weird hold. 'Bill skinner'? I wondered. The horse bit I completely understood.

I cleared my throat again. "So, Connor, is it?" I asked, holding out the same hand that Murphy had shaken. "Visiting for business as well?"

Connor, the archangel of beauty choked on his own tongue as he took my hand and shot a look at Murphy. They were silent for a beat, my hand locked in the calloused heat of Connor's while they stared at each other. Great, pretty, but another weirdo.

"Aye, business." He answered, a smile and chuckle as he returned to face me. "An' yer are?"

I really wished I knew the joke. That had these two laughing every time I mentioned business.

"'Er name is Tessa. Whaich yer wud 'av known if ye'd gotten oyt av scratcher and cum wi' me, loike oi tried ter git yer ter." Murphy answered, smirking.

Connor released my hand and I leaned my hip against the counter. "Are you business partners?" I asked, wondering what type of business they could be in. Rough hands, sun kissed skin, peacoats, hair that looked like a blind barber and blunt shears created the cut weren't usually what I'd associate with business travel. They could be sailors, I supposed.

Connor and Murphy laughed. Each picking up a cup of coffee. Murphy with his right hand, Connor with his left. "Business partners?" Connor smiled, taking an appreciative sip. "Naw, brothers."

Murphy sipped his own. Closing his eyes and sighing in gratitude. "Twins in fact." He added, opening his eyes.

Connor took another drink from his cup. He moaned indecently and it made my stomach clench. "Dis coffee is rapid. Yer 'av a gift. An' I'm jealous yer git ter enjoy it al' de time."

It was my turn to laugh. "Oh, I don't drink coffee." The look of horrified disbelief on both their faces was priceless. "I make it. I love the scent of it, but drink it?" I shuddered. "No thanks."

Murphy's eyebrows rose. "'Oy can yer make it if yer allerge it?"

Connor chipped in, shaking his cup. "An' make it taste loike dis?"

I noticed the ink on his hand as he shook the cup. Another word tattoo. "VERITAS" I reached into my tiny bit of high school Latin. "Truth," I said out loud, startling all of us. I blushed as their eyes fell to mine. I swallowed. "The truth is- my parents love coffee. When my mom died, I learned to make a decent cup so my dad could wake up to it. Worked as a barista for a bit. Still hate the taste."

Connor's eyes burned into me, making me curious again about the two of them. "Konnor, perestan' pyalit'sya, ty yeye pugayesh'." Murphy broke the silence in a murmur. The language sounded almost guttural. Russian? Strange.

Connor's eyes never left me as he answered. "Notò la mia mano, Murphy. Pensi che chiamerà la polizia?" The language he'd chosen sounded more lyrical. Wait, 'polizia'? Police?

I cleared my throat. "Well, this has been- interesting." I smiled, hoping to defuse whatever tension was between the three of us. "Could you please let Doc know I'll be over around lunch?" I asked, needing time to process. Hoping desperately they'd take the hint.

Murphy spoke again, tugging his twin away from the counter. "Naw problem, lassy. We'll be 'appy ter let 'imself nu. Say take 'er 'andy, Connor."

"Clap yer lay-ra, lass." Connor said, allowing his brother to steer him out the door, Murphy shooting me a wave.

Well, then, I thought. Going back to the pastry display, I started clearing the empty boxes. What the hell was all that?

Russian translation from Murphy: Connor, stop staring. You scare her.

Italian translation from Connor: She noticed my hand, Murphy. Do you think she'll call the police?

#Connor MacManus X OFC X Murphy MacManus #no twincest #Boondock Saints 2 #alternative universe #eventual smut

[mattmurdocks-leftbuttcheek]

Undercover p.p. x Nat's younger sister! Reader

This was requested and I put a little twist in it. I'm actually pretty proud of it. I'll be honest I got lazy at the end of it but it's 2,134 words which I'm proud of. I wrote this on mobile so my apologies.

This is about Y/n being assigned to look after Peter while he gets used to being the new Spider-Man. Set in Homecoming.

Y/n smoothed her hair down into a low bun, small tendrils of hair framing her face. She wore a black crop-top with black-washed high-waisted jeans and rainbow vans, a long maroon sweater helped bring everything together. Y/n filled in her eyebrows, put a couple coats of mascara on and lipgloss. She studied herself in the mirror. Could she pass as a regular high school student? She felt she had no choice but to live up to her sisters reputation. Finish the mission, don’t get attached. Simple.

There was a knock on Y/n's door. “Come in,” she called over her shoulder.

Nat walked in with a smile on her face. “Are you nervous?” She asked.

Y/n shook her head no. “I'm pretty confident about this mission Tony put me on. It's highschool. Not a big deal.”

Nat sat on Y/n's bed, picking at the old duvet cover. “What's your objective?”

Y/n sighed. “Keep an eye on Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Tony set my schedule just like his and put me in decathlon so I can keep an eye on him.”

Nat smiled a proud smile. “That's my girl.”

Y/n shared the same smile. “I learned from the best.”

“Y/n, school starts in thirty minutes.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced in her room.

“Am I taking the bus or am I getting a ride?” She asked openly.

“Scott has offered to take you to and from the school as to not raise suspicions.”

Y/n smiled. “This is gonna be fun.”

Nat stood up and looked her little sister up and down, her face showing happiness and sadness equally. “Mom and Dad would be proud of you.”

Y/n hugged her sister. “I know, Nat,” she said as she sighed, tears fighting to come up, “I know.”

They stood there hugging. Until someone knocked on the door frame, clearing their throat. Y/n pulled away from Nat to see Scott leaning on the door frame with keys in his hands. “Ready kiddo?”

Y/n sighed, “No one is ever technically ready for a mission.”

Midtown School of Science and Technology. Y/n looked up at the tall building as students flooded the stairs leading up to the entrance. “You nervous?” Scott asked.

Y/n nodded the slightest bit. “Just a little.”

He put a warming hand on her shoulder. “It'll be fine. Probably the easiest mission I've heard of.”

Y/n smiled as she picked up her bag and opened the door to get out. “Thanks Scott.” She closed the door firmly. As she walked away, she heard a muffled, “I'll be here at three!”

Y/n laughed to herself as she walked up the stairs to the entrance. As she walked the crowded halls to find the office, she saw her objective, standing at his locker with someone. She took a deep breath and adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked up to him.

“Uh hi, I'm new here and was wondering if you could help me?” She asked directly.

Peter turned around quickly. “A-are you asking me?”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, they sent me a schedule but I have no idea where my classes are. I would've assumed the office was in the entrance to the school.”

Peter laughed a small laugh. “Let me look at it.” He said holding a hand out. Y/n dug in her pocket for the crumpled piece of paper and handed it to him. Peter looked it over, “We have all the same classes,” he said in surprise, “just stick with me.”

As soon as he said that, Y/n head someone from behind her say, “Why would someone like her stick with you, Penis Parker?”

Y/n turned and saw a tan, dark headed boy. Maybe Italian? She recognized the behavior from what Tony had told her about Peter's school life.“Maybe because we have the same class schedule, asshat.” Y/n sneered. The boy put his hands up mockingly as if to say I surrender.

“I like feisty ones. Especially red heads.”

“Leave her alone Flash.” Peter pleaded.

“It's okay,” Y/n said with a smirk on her face. “Let me deal with little Eugene.”

Flash’s face dropped. Obviously he doesn't like to be called by his legal name. Y/n walked up to him and motioned with her index finger for him to come closer. She put her lips next to his ear and whispered, “Try to mess with me, your parents and the police will never find your body because it'll be torn into six pieces, wrapped in plastic and buried under trees in cemeteries in six different states. After I torture you.” She pulled away and saw his face go pale, no color left in his cheeks. Before she walked away, she said out loud, “and not in the good way either.”

Flash stood there, unmovingly. Like one of Medusa's stone statues. Y/n smiled to herself as she turned to see Peter and his friend with expressions of awe. “Where to first?”

Y/n stood in the lunch line with Peter and his friend, Need. They were still pushing to know what she said to Flash that made him unable to move and what she meant by “and not in the good way.”

Y/n just smiled. “It was nothing, I swear. Just a little threat.”

As the line pushed on, Peter and Need go their trays as Y/n held on to her lunch box. Nat packed her lunch today, she expected to have all healthy foods and a protein shake. As the trio sat down, Peter dug into his 'chicken tenders’ like they were the only thing he's ever eaten as Y/n in packed her lunch. She had a tuna and romaine lettuce wraps with a bag of apple slices and a bag of carrots. And the protein shake in a Ninja blending cup with a straw. At the bottom was a sticky note. 'have a great day, Y/n!’ was scrawled in Nat's handwriting.

“So you're like, really healthy?” Need asked as he sipped his milk.

Y/n nodded as she took a bite of her tuna wrap. “ I train a lot.” She said after chewing.

“Fhat do you thwain for?” Peter asked, muffled by a mouthful of food.

Y/n immediately said “Gymnastics.” It wasn't wrong. She knew how to tumble and can do a prefect back aerial on a four inch plank of wood.

Need smiled widely.”That's so cool! You probably told Flash that you could do a backflip and knock him out cold with a kick.”

Y/n just smiled and ate her food.

As the weeks pressed on, Y/n got to know more about Peter. He was very smart, loved Star Wars and a certain Deli in Queens. He offered to take her which seems agreed to only to know where he goes to on a regular basis. They eventually exchanged phone numbers and studied at his Aunt's apartment. His room was like any teenager's bedroom, messy and clean at the same time. On his desk we're his web cartridges. Testing him, she asked what they were. Peter's face turned red and said that they were for an experiment.

Y/n didn't know when it had happened but when she gets a text from Peter, her heart starts beating faster. When she's around him, her hands get sweaty and her face feels warmer than usual. When she talked to Nat about it she smiled. “You like him,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Y/n sputtered. “N-no I don't!”

Nat laughed. “You do, honeybunch. You have a crush.”

Y/n looked down. “Then I failed my mission,” she said. “I got attached.”

After the whole decathlon team almost dying in the Washington Monument, Peter seemed more pleased with himself. When he pulled Liz up, Y/n felt a searing pain in her chest. It took her a moment to realize what it was. It was jealousy.

Even after Tony took away Peter's suit, Y/n was still told to stick around. She didn't necessarily want to or not want to. She could get closer to him. Maybe go to homecoming with him. But that maybe turned into a no when she found out he had asked Liz.

Y/n knew there was still someone out there selling those weapons. And she knew Peter had found out who when we walked into the gymnasium for homecoming. He walked stiffly, his face so pale you would've thought he was wearing a mask. She watched as he went up to Liz and murmured a “Sorry.” And left. Keeping her personal feelings down, she follow him down the corridor. Flinging off parts of his suit, he ran, lifted the lockers and grabbed his homemade suit. Realizing what he was doing, Y/n ran to the girls bathroom in the same hallway and grabbed herr gear out of the last stall that was labeled “out of order” since she arrived.

After changing quickly into gear that was almost identical to Nat's, she rush through the doors that lead outside and found Peter's on the ground. Herr heart throbbed. But her instincts kicked in when she heard someone running towards her. She instantly ducked and turned on the balls of her left foot, her right leg swinging out and knocking the man down to the ground.

Y/n held her booted foot against the man's throat. She heard Peter groan and question who she was. She ignored Peter for a moment, crouching down to put nano-cuffs that Tony had designed for her to use. Much like the suit he had that would form when he tapped his chest. “You move, the restraints will get tighter until you pass out due to blood loss.” She sneered.

Y/n finally looked at Peter. He took off his bug-eyed mask and was staring at her in awe. “What are you- how did- who are you?”

Y/n sighed. “We can talk later at the compound. But first, can we find the dealer?”

Peter nodded.

“Y/n did WhAT?!” Need screamed over the Bluetooth connection of Flash's car.

“Ned,” Y/n said calmly. “Now is not the time to be fanboying right now.”

“But wh-”

“Say another word and you won't get to meet the avengers.”

When Y/n and Peter basically saved Liz’s dad, Y/n had called Tony. “You were wrong.” She said simply. “He can handle it.”

The next day Y/n didn't show up for class. Peter thought it was strange until he got a text from Happy telling him to meet him in the bathroom. She was there too, dressed in all black gear, then it hit him. She looked just like Black Widow.

Happy took Peter to the new Avengers Headquarters. On the way Y/n told Peter everything.

“You were sent to spy on me?” Peter asked skeptically.

Y/n sighed. “I was making sure you were staying safe and not telling people what happened in Berlin. Or the fact that you're Spider-Man.”

“Anything else I need to know? Does Thor have three nipples?”

Y/n's heart leapt into her throat. She could tell him how she felt right then. But she bit her tongue and giggled. “We're here.” She said as she pointed behind him.

Peter looked at the facility with the same face he had when he and Ned finished building his Lego Death Star.

Pure happiness.

When they got into the building, Y/n told Happy that she'd take him to Tony. She just had to tell him.

“Hey, Pete?” She asked shyly.

“Yeah?”

“There's something I feel like I have to tell you.”

“Okay”

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “When me or my sister go on missions, we have a rule. Don't get attached.” Peter nodded. “Well, I broke that rule, Peter. I got attached to you and you're just so damn cute and I just wanted to make you feel better after Tony took your suit, you looks so sad and I just wanted you to be happy because that's all you deser-”

Peter cut her off by kissing her. A slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, Y/n was the color of Nat's hair. “I like you too,Y/n” Peter looked around quickly. “Don't tell anyone I said that because I'm pretty sure the entire team would annihilate me if they saw me do that.”

Peter didn't join the Avengers to her dismay, but they did get sandwiches every Friday at Delmar's for a 'date’. Only to find most of the people walking by we're in hoodies and ball caps.

“REALLY GUYS?”

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #tom x reader #tom holland #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #marvel #mcu #i hope someone finds this funny

[paleorecipecookbook]

Why Your BMI Isn’t Telling You The Whole Truth

Most people are familiar with the BMI measuring system, which is often displayed on charts from your doctor’s office, next to your weight. But what the numbers mean – and whether they’re a true measure of your health – is up for debate.

While we know a healthy weight is important, the factors that define healthy aren’t clear cut. Two people can have the exact same BMI, but wildly different states of health. So, what gives?

What Is BMI?

BMI stands for body mass index, and is a number calculated using certain ratios of height and weight. It was designed as a tool for researchers to calculate overall weight of population bodies, not of individuals. It still works well as a public health tool in the hands of researchers. However, as a one-on-one health marker between patients and doctors, it doesn’t allow for enough individual health factors and is two-dimensional. (1)

The problem with BMI is that it leaves no room for genetic individuality. Take two people of the exact same height and weight. One of them regularly lifts weights and has a relatively low percentage of body fat; the other lives a sedentary lifestyle and has a high percentage of body fat. Still, their weights are the same. BMI calculations would give them both the same number, which will be a poor reflection of health for one person. The active person could be falsely given an overweight classification, while the inactive person could be lulled into a feeling of health security.

Health is much more than a single number calculation or marker. We are three-dimensional human beings with multiple considerations needed to assess health.

How Was BMI Developed?

BMI is calculated by taking your weight in pounds and dividing it by your height in inches squared (your height in inches x your height in inches), and then multiplying that number by 703. (2) The final number is your BMI, and any number that is 25 or higher is considered too high.

The BMI is a way of measuring the body fat of individuals and categorizing them. What it does not measure is muscle, bone structure, or other individual elements, like fitness level or what type of fat a person has (with visceral or belly fat being more harmful than other types). (3)

Forms of BMI measurements have been around since the 1800s, but in 1993, the World Health Organization established the four BMI categories we know today: underweight (15-19.9), normal (20-24.9), overweight (25-29.9), and obese (30-35+). (4) In 1997, BMI categories were expanded to take into account differing degrees of obesity. The previous overweight category was renamed “pre-obesity” (25-29.9) and included new obesity categories of class I obesity (30-34.9), class II obesity (34.9-39.9), and class III obesity (40+).

In the U.S., the average BMI ranges between 24 and 27, meaning that almost half of the population falls into the “pre-obesity” category. (5) While it’s not a hard sell that many people in the U.S. could be overweight, is that an actual reflection of health? As demonstrated above, a fit, healthy person with more muscle and less fat could still be lumped into an unhealthy BMI category.

Other Markers for Health

While BMI is not going to be replaced any time soon from research perspectives, many doctors and other health professionals argue that there are better ways to assess a person’s health. The following are common ways that health professionals assess health, with or without BMI taken into account.

Waist Circumference or Waist-to-Hip Ratio

Doctor offices frequently measure waist-to-hip ratio to evaluate visceral fat and risk for possible associated issues, like type 2 diabetes. (6) Waist circumference is a basic measurement of your waist around your belly button using a tape measure. Men who have waist circumference measurements of 37 inches and lower and women 31.5 inches and lower are considered low risk, while anything above falls under intermediate or high risk. (7)

To measure waist-to-hip ratio, get the measurement of the smallest part of your waist in inches. Next, find the measurement around the widest part of your hips/buttocks. Your waist-to-hip ratio is calculated as follows: waist number divided by hip number. A healthy number is considered 0.9 or less in men and 0.85 or less in women. (8)

Resting Pulse

One marker that can be used to help assess heart health is the resting pulse rate. This is calculated by taking your pulse first thing in the morning before getting out of bed. Place your fingers on your wrist and find your pulse. Count the number of beats in 30 seconds and multiple by two to reach your resting heart rate. Alternatively, you can count your beats in 60 seconds and not have to do any extra math.

A resting pulse of 60 to 100 is considered normal, but athletes and extremely fit people may have a rate lower than 60, indicating an even more efficient heart. If you notice that your resting pulse is almost always pushing the upper limit, be sure to talk to your doctor.

Resting pulse measures health when paired with other factors, like glucose levels, blood pressure, and weight, and can help indicate how healthy your heart is. (9)

Blood Pressure

Blood pressure measures the amount of pressure in arteries and veins as blood travels throughout the body. The higher the number, the more pressure there is, which can indicate stress or even potential plaque problems in arteries, problems with the heart, or extreme stress. (10) One in three adults has high blood pressure. (11)

Blood pressure is measured in systolic (top) and diastolic (bottom) numbers. A normal, healthy reading is considered to be 120/80 or lower, with stage 1 high blood pressure defined as 130-139 over 80-89. As numbers get higher from there, more serious stages of hypertension (high blood pressure) are diagnosed. (12)

You can check your blood pressure at home using a digital cuff that you secure on your left arm, around your bicep. While these may not be as precise as doctor offices, using the same cuff at home on a regular basis to measure blood pressure can indicate increases or decreases over time.

Blood Glucose

People with diabetes often have to test their blood glucose at home on a regular basis, but measuring glucose can also be used as a marker for health. A normal, healthy fasting glucose should be less than 100 when taken 8-12 hours after last eating or drinking (so, first thing in the morning). (13) Optimal ranges for fasting glucose fall between 70 and 100. While you’re not considered diabetic until fasting glucose is 130 or higher, consistently ending up with readings between 100 and 125 is considered prediabetes. (14) Stress, diet, lack of exercise, lack of sleep, dehydration, and many other factors can increase fasting glucose levels – but regardless of what increases them, glucose levels are a major indicator of health. (15)

Relative Fat Mass (RFM)

Researchers are looking for better ways to uniformly measure body fat that are more applicable than BMI. The relative fat mass is still being studied, but one which some researchers claim is more relevant. It can be calculated easily, has slightly different formulas for men and women, and the final numbers aren’t as likely to class people incorrectly, as with BMI. (16)

The Bottom Line

Ultimately, BMI is a not a total measure of health – it is simply a way to categorize someone’s size. And while BMI has its useful applications, it only gives you a limited perspective on how healthy you may (or may not) be. 17)

Using these other health markers together presents a more three-dimensional picture of health, many of which you can monitor yourself at home. If your measurements indicate out-of-range numbers, you can go to your doctor and express your concerns.

Measuring your health at home also offers you a more personal connection to your state of wellness and can allow you to be more on top of your health than just waiting for your doctor to discover via annual wellness check-ups. By being proactive with your health, you can notice slight changes and be able to proactively respond.

(Read This Next: 9 Nutrient Deficiencies Making You Crave Junk – What Your Body Really Wants Instead)

The post Why Your BMI Isn’t Telling You The Whole Truth appeared first on PaleoPlan.

Source: http://bit.ly/10qRbxJ

#paleo #recipe #food #delicious #healthy #yum #diet

[dailybeastarsthings]

Chapter 13 - Downtown Escapades 13.2. Grow Up!

LEGOSHI

‘Pick any finger you like’ the old goat said completely calm. Like it was the most natural thing to do; offer your parts to be a meal of someone else.

I could feel his hands moving curiously around my muzzle, trying to tease my appetite. I froze up and broke into sweat. I couldn’t do anything. His hands were drenched in the sweat and saliva of other carnivores. I could smell a fox, two large felines and a brown bear. I could hear the others talking behind me but I couldn’t hear them. I was concentrating to avoid any contact with the hands with my tongue and teeth. I could feel his fingers inspecting the inside of my mouth.

‘Your canine teeth are 3 centimeters long’ he said. ‘Young and healthy teeth like yours cost a fortune… Make it one bite, would you?’

I was unable to move still. My limbs became numb and my mind got full with thought. All I could see was the goat rising up his hands: two fingers on one, four on the other.

‘All right, I’m making a special deal for you, young wolf… My left fingers are 20 percent off!’

I became so overwhelmed that I almost fainted. Fortunately (or not), I zoned out, staring back at him blankly without any expression on my face. I can’t even remember if I blinked…

***

I could feel the gentle breeze of yesterday’s wind against my face. I was on the bridge connecting the two main buildings of the school, coated in silver by the moonlight, with Haru again.

‘I think it’s neat that we can have eye contact, but I really don’t want you to hurt your back just because of that’ she said.

‘Oh, it’s fine’ I replied. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ She smiled softly at me with a curious look in her eyes.

‘You know, now that we’ve established how black my eyes are… I have a question for you, Legoshi.’

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘What do you see me as?’ Haru asked.

I couldn’t really make any sense of the question. I’m sure I must’ve looked pretty confused because Haru quickly added some new comments, too.

‘Oh, sorry… I know this must be a weird question, I was just curious… Give me your hand.’

And so I did, gently holding my hand to hers. She grabbed onto my index finger. Her hand simply disappeared in mine. She used four fingers just to wrap around my one. Her fur was extremely soft.

‘Now I know we can be great friends’ she said.

I smiled back at her, nodding. But she started to change shape and everything became blurry. And then, all of a sudden…

***

I was back in reality with the old goat holding me by my finger, looking at me concerned.

‘Sir, why are you spacing out?’ he asked. But before I could answer, I could feel someone shoving me away from him. It was Bill.

‘Move, Legoshi!’ he said with frustration and excitement in his tone. ‘Hey, sir! You’re selling one finger for 70 000 Yen, right? If I pay you 70 000 Yen, can I really eat one of your fingers!?’ He was almost yelling. That poor thing didn’t know how to react.

Bill turned back to us with such excitement in his eyes I’ve never seen before. They were slightly bulging, as if he had let go of his feral side.

‘Hey, guys! Of course you want to eat it too, right!?’ he yelled in excitement. ‘We took our money while we were at TFF! If we split the cost, we can each have a bite!’

His childish behavior was quite annoying to me. Especially, considering the fact that we were talking about eating an herbivore’s finger. As he was trying to split the cost evenly in his head, I couldn’t take it anymore and slapped him. Hard. Maybe a little too hard, but he deserved it…

‘What the hell, you idiot!?’ he yelled at me. ‘Don’t slap my face if you know what’s good for you!’ I knew he was angry but that was better than him having an unquenchable appetite for herbivore meat and blood.

‘What the hell is wrong with you!?’ I responded. ‘Do you even know what you’re saying!?’

I swear I could hear Bill growling at me. He tried to pierce me with his eyes but it had no effect on me. I was determined to stop him.

‘I don’t plan on going along with your ego now that we’re in the Black Market…’ he said as he cracked his fingers. ‘And we also didn’t finish our fight now, did we?’

‘That’s right’ I said while stretching my neck.

‘Alright, then… I’m gonna give you even more and deeper wounds on your back!’

‘Whatever! I will never…’

I couldn’t finish my sentence. Before any of us completely lost it, Aoba stepped between us.

‘Legoshi, wait’ he said with a sorrowfully gentle look on his face. ‘Sorry for saying this… If we were at the school, I’d take your side but we’re not…’ he sighed. ‘Look around, this is the Black Market. And we are carnivores.

I could feel the air freeze around me. The realization that Aoba would actually eat someone’s finger despite being one of the most docile creatures I’ve ever met was definitely a splash of cold water on my back.

‘What are you saying…?’ I asked in disbelief. ‘So… you guys are really going to eat it?’

‘Didn’t you see the animals walking on the main street!?’ Bill asked, yelling again. ‘They looked a whole lot happier than the animals at school. And why!? Because of the Black Market! Don’t you understand!? Don’t you get it!?’ He stepped closer to me and grabbed my shoulder. ‘You need to grow up…’ he said in a calmer, almost rather patronizing tone.

‘The carnivores walking peacefully on the main street…’ I thought. ‘The reason behind their calm and composed expressions and polite behavior… Could this be because…?’

I clenched my teeth and fists, looking at the ground. I was not going to give in… I couldn’t give in… For the sake of herbivores, I had to restrain myself from giving in…

‘This is what growing up means to you!?’ I screamed at Bill full of anger and frustration, almost breaking into tears.

‘Yeah, what’s the problem?’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. Without a care in the world. As if it was the most natural thing for carnivores to just go out and buy themselves meat, which whoever knows where the hell had come from. ‘If you don’t like it, you can stay a child for the rest of your miserable life…’ he added.

‘You know what!? I actually will. I’m gonna go back to the school!’ I replied, starting to storm off.

‘Yeah, that’s right! Typical Legoshi… But next time you pick a fight with me, I won’t hold back just so you know!’

I stormed off. I ran straight into the crowd as fast as I could. The smell of raw meats created a toxic mixture inside my nose. It was nauseating. I tried to breathe as little as I could in order to avoid any uncomfortable situations. I heard several vendors trying to offer me their products – weasel legs, intestines, in some cases, special remedies made of herbivore organs.

‘Look, Legoshi, I know I can come across as an evil person during the rehearsals and practices, but I do care for others. And that includes you’ I suddenly heard Louis’ voice in my head as I ran through the market.

I reached an alleyway, where I faced a dead end. I leaned against the wall with my arms. I tried to catch my breath. But to my surprise, when I opened my mouth, a huge load of saliva fell to the ground. And I couldn’t stop. It was a terrible experience. I felt ashamed. I felt miserable.

‘Louis… I’m too shy to say this to you personally, but I do care for you, too. I care a lot for you actually… I think about you a lot lately… But why is this happening to me? Why can’t I stop salivating!?’

The amount of saliva leaving my mouth became bigger and bigger. I felt overwhelmed. My legs became weak and started shaking violently. I couldn’t stand up anymore. I fell to the ground, filled with ugly desires rotating wildly in my head.

‘I don’t have any right to blame Bill’ I thought. ‘Especially when my desire for Louis is…’

I suddenly felt something pointy against my side. I could feel it nudging me.

‘Oh you poor wolf…’ an unfamiliar and rather deep voice said from behind of me. ‘Be glad that I found you. No one can see us from here.’ I didn’t feel safe from then on.

I looked up for a brief moment before I fainted, only to see a giant panda. Then the world became dark around me and I became numb…

#beastars #beastars fanfiction

[lazymilkshakecolor]

A sequel to “A Stolen Moment” please? Maybe wherein they send letters to each other, and scenes of their friends teasing Boruto and Sarada because they miss each other. ❤️

Boruto practically bolted from his seat when he heard a messenger hawk peck at his window.

He opened the window and took the letter that was attached to the bird's leg, and he gently unwrapped it to reveal the neat handwriting of the girl that has been on his mind for the past seven months.

Hey Bo, everything is fine here, I met Mitsuki in Kumo last week, he was with chouchou, they looked kinda… cozy with each other, so please keep an eye on them and help Mitsuki  with figuring out the obvious, cause he could be a little dense in that department.

How are you? Mama and papa and uncle? My hawk can only carry one letter at a time so I couldn't send them anything, could you wish Mama a happy birthday for me?

Anyways I'm going to Ame next, and as always if you need anything you just have to send a hawk.

And, there was an ink blot next, signaling that she hesitated with her writing, I really miss you, and I hope I can see you soon Bo.

I miss you too, he thought as he ran his fingers on the letter, the letter that Sarada was holding a couple of days ago.

He hoped she doesn't get sick, it's pretty bad weather in Ame… Amekagure, she's going to be in Amekagure by now, and isn't her birthday in three days?

Boruto got up and packed his bags, intent on traveling to Ame.

Ten minutes later he ran outside, towards his dad's office, where he would have to get permission to get out of the village.

''Hey Dad, I need to go to Ame.''

''Well good morning to you too Boruto.''

Boruto rubbed his head sheepishly.

''Brat.'' Naruto said, as he pulled out a departure form from his desk and started filling it out.

Boruto waited fo his father as he filled out the paper, a minute later he handed it to him.

''Tell her I said hi, and ask her how's the ramen collection going.''

Boruto's eye twitched, if their's one thing he hated that his dad passed on to Sarada, it was the freakin' ramen obsession.

''Yeah, see ya in about four days.''

Naruto sighed before a slight smirk appeared on his face, he has noticed that his son has been exceptionally cheery these past couples of months as if a weight has been removed off his chest and he does recall Sakura mentioning that his son has spent the night with Sarada the night before she left.

''At least they stopped being in denial.'' He muttered as he got back to his paperwork, dreading the hour Shikamaru would come in and start lecturing him again because of paperwork.

.

.

.

''I'm afraid Konoha would be unable to help you with your funding problem, but we can spare some medics and supplies, which will get the workers more healthy and thus more productive, and maybe that will boost your economy and you won't require funding anymore.'' Sarada said, looking at the village chief.

''Ahh, all is a blessing young lad, thank you for your help.''

Sarada chook the man's hand before leaving the small conference room.

She couldn't wait until she got back to her inn room in Ame, she was currently on the outstricks of said village, making progress on her political mission of helping the smaller villages that still haven't recovered from the previous wars until this day.

So far, in seven months she has recommended help for seventeen villages, and her efforts were paying off, as a week ago she got a letter of thanks from the chief of the tree village, thanking her for the implantation projects she has launched for them and getting them funding for food supplies that will last them until they can grow the plants and trees that were burned during the war and later by bandits.

A gust of wind blew, which prompted Sarada to pocket her hands in the cloak her father got her before she took off on her trip.

The warmness of the cloak around her hand reminded her of the warmness of Boruto's hand as he held it during that night.

Sarada's ears reddened a little as she recalled that night and the words they uttered.

''Welcome Sarada-san.'' The Inn keeper greeted.

''Hey Todaka-san, is your son better now?''

''Ahh yes, much better, that reckless brat will never learn to stop jumping and climbing.''

Sarada smiled at the old women, ''Don't be so hard on him ma'am, all academy students are like that.'' She herself had few bones she didn't break over her ninja career, it's a good thing her own mother was a medic.

''What are you going to do, ninja will be ninja I guess, thank you again for healing him.''

''You're welcome.'' She answered before she turned around and headed to her room, she stopped in her trakes for a moment when she sensed a chakra presence in her room, but she continued walking normally, while putting her hand on her sword, ready for anything.

She put the key in the keyhole, when she heard shuffling inside.

They must be really inexperienced, she thought as she thirsted the door open and thrust her sword towards the intruder, only catching a glimpse of blonde hair before her sword met his own, his sword looked strangely like her father's old sword, the one he passed on to Boruto, wait…

''Boruto!'' she said, pulling her sword off of him and sheathing it, Boruto who was stunned was stuck in his position, with his sword raised up to eye level.

''Nice welcome…'' he said before he sheathed his sword.

''what are-?''

''You said you missed me.''

Sarada stunned still for a moment, before wrapping he arms around him tightly.

''You came here just for that?'' she muttered against his chest.

''Partly, I also wanted to wish you a happy birthday.'' He said, lowering his head and kissing her forehead affectionately.

She didn't answer, instead settling into his embrace, content with staying like that.

''If you don’t step away  a little I won't be able to reach for your gift.''

Sarada backed away a little, her hand swinging his left arm excitedly.

He reached with his right hand in his pouch, from where he pulled a white and blue kunai, one of five present in the world, he got this from his friend, Kagura, who confiscated it from a bandit that found it hidden in the dirt, and the bandit, not knowing what it was truly worth tried to sell it for cheap when Kagura found it.

''Where did you get this?!'' she said, grabbing the kunai from his hands and inspecting it.

''That's a secret.''

Sarada too happy with her gift didn't object and just thanked him.

''But you know, there's one thing that can do that's better than this.''

''What?''

Sarada didn't respond, instead standing closer to him and looking up as a blush rosed to her cheeks.

Ohh, ohh she wants a kiss, he thought, he was about to lean in when a thought occurred to him.

He leaned down, and stopped a hair from Sarada's lips, feeling her breath on his lips, Sarada moved her head forward to touch his lips with hers, but he leaned away immediately, jutting his index and middle finger out and resting it on her forehead.

''Maybe next time Sarada.''

Did he… did he just pull a dad on me? Sarada thought, remembering the numerous times she saw her father do something like that, but she wasn't a patient women like her mother, that's why she pushed him back so the back of his knee smacked against the bed board and he was forced to descend on it

''Wow!'' Boruto exclaimed as his back smacked against the top of the bed, ''Sarada what-''

The words caught in his throat as he saw her climb over him, eyes burning with barely contained passion.

''Don't try those tricks on me Bo…'' she said before she leaned down and kissed him, hands moving wildly in his hair as his hands rested on her waist.

''I missed this.'' She muttered before kissing him again and again.

Boruto remembered Mitsuki teasing him about a month ago, about how Sarada would definetly be the dominant one in their relationship, something Boruto denied at first, but could only see it as true now.

Not that he minded, he thoughts as her hands grabbed both of his arms.

[turtleparadise]

[ ~ One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ ]

2. Inevitable Collision

"Ahh, the laughter of children," Reeve said, watching the young ones of Gongaga run around outside from the open doors of Town Hall. They chased after each other, pretend-fought with sticks, some showing off their flips and rolls. "Such a sweet sound."

"I agree," Yuffie nodded. Their leader turned to her, having made sure he and Tifa had everything before their departure.

"So, I suppose we'll meet up at Corel next month?"

"I'm counting on you, Spikey!"

"I thought we moved past that nickname," Cloud said, giving Yuffie an annoyed glare.

"We'll be there," Nanaki said. "Until then, take care, everyone." And with that, he ran off. Everyone boarded their respective vehicles, and left Gongaga behind... All but one.

"You're not leaving, Vinnie?"

"I came here with you. Since you plan to leave now, it makes the most sense to travel with you."

"Ahh, I see. Well, I have some business once the mayor gets here, but after that, we can go."

"In that case, I'll go stock up at the shops," he nodded, stepping outside the Town Hall.

"Empress Kisaragi," a familiar voice greeted, as the mayor rushed into the office, ran behind her desk, and sat down, making sure not a single hair was out of place in the process. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm-"

"Mayor Bianca," Yuffie finished with a smile. "I remember, we met the other day. And I'm just Yuffie, to my friends, okay?"

"Ah... Yes, very well, then. So, what did you want to discuss?"

"Well... Now that the soil can be used again, and we cleared that eyesore out of the way, you guys can get a lot more farming done, right?"

"Ah... Yes, that's the plan."

"So it sounds to me like you're gonna have lots of delicious crops. I'd like a share of them."

"Oh... Of course! You can have as many as you want, and more, after what you've done for us. We have some vegetables grown at the moment-"

"Not for me. For Wutai."

"Wh... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I want to establish a trade route between my country and yours. I want to make Gongaga rich, Mayor Bianca."

"R... Rich?"

"I want those kids playing outside to grow up happy and healthy, with every opportunity they deserve. So... I want to make a new road, from here to the bay, if that's cool with you. I wanna send in merchants, and I want your merchants to come to Wutai. I want some of those future crops, in exchange for... I don't know. Whatever it is you guys want or need." The mayor was completely baffled by all of this. She took off her glasses and wiped away tears, and couldn't help but laugh at the casual way this young Empress worded her business propositions.

"Why are you doing all of this for us?" Yuffie made a wide grin, folding her fingers together.

"Because I can. So, what'll it be? Fish? We have plenty of fish, if you need it. Boats? We have the finest boatmakers in the world! Or so I've been told."

"No, no," she shook her head. "I think... what our people would like most from Wutai, would be your art."

"Ahh, that's right," Yuffie nodded, scribbling quickly on a piece of parchment. "You guys used to buy art from us all the time, before the war. Well, consider it done. Consider it more than done! Not only will I send merchants here to sell their specialty wares, but you'll have a boatload of paintings, poetry, music, you name it. Once a month sound good to you?"

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Empress..."

"Yuffie," she corrected. "To her friends."

"Thank you, Yuffie."

\\\\\

"Ahhh, Kisaragi and Valentine, off on another incredible journey! Just like the old days. Remember when we always got put in the same party because we were basically the ones left? All that walking... Well, a lot of the time I just jumped on your back and made you do the walking for me. What a lazy kid I was!"

"I didn't mind," Vincent simply said in reply, as they made their way North along the coast, toward the Corel mountain range. He was walking at a steady pace, while she ran circles around him.

"Oh hey look, birds!" She pointed skyward to where a migrating flock passed overhead. "It's so good to see reminders that the Planet is still doing okay..."

[ One Hour Later ]

"Haaaa.... Uuuuhhh... Haaaahhh... I'm sorry, Vinnie, I'm gonna have to catch a ride."

Yuffie jumped up, planted a foot in the small of his back, and threw her arms over his shoulders, her head planted atop his ebony mane.

"I don't mind."

"Is that all you can say, Vinnie? Huh? IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAYYYYY?" She pounded her fists against his shoulders, trying not to use too much of her strength. She suddenly stopped when he grabbed her right hand, running his thumb over a small cut on her index finger.

"How did this happen? You haven't even been touched by any of the monsters we've fought today."

"Oh, whoops," she let out a loud laugh "I guess I was careless with my shuriken. Oh well, it's just a tiny scratch, nothing that can bring down the Great Yuffie! Nyuk nyuk nyuk..." She trailed off when he knelt down to take a first-aid kit from one of his pockets and administer a salve and bandage. "Vinnie..."

"All better," he said, replacing the kit.

"Now kiss it!"

"What?"

"Kiss iiiiiiiit!" She pressed the tiny injury up against his lips, and he smacked her arm away, to the peal of more delighted laughter.

"Hey Vinnie... Why do you have these cute little dinosaur bandages, huh?" Vincent visibly flinched at this question, and took his time responding.

"...I just like dinosaurs."

"Fair enough!"

"If you can joke around, you can walk."

"Oh, no time for that, we've gotta get to Corel ASAP. C'mon, Vinnie! Mush!"

"It's been... a long time since I've heard that," Vincent said as he rose to his feet and started walking once again.

"Is that... a SMILE I hear?"

"Get off."

\\\\\

"I can't-uuuuhhh... I can't remember...Oh Vinnie!"

"Is she going to be alright?"

"WAH!" The doctor jumped almost a foot and turned around, her hand clutching at her heart, to see Vincent standing there, staring at the injured and drugged-up Yuffie. "You scared me! Who.... What... Where did you come from? Do you know the patient?"

"We're traveling together. Operation Rain?"

"Oh, I see, I see."

"That's Vinnie," Yuffie said with a smile, waving at Vincent to come closer. "He tried to run away... But IIIIII CAUGHT HIM!"

"You sure did," he said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her fingers around his right wrist, though there was barely any strength to the hold. He stared at her hand for a moment, before turning his attention to the doctor. "How is she?"

"Well, she had quite a gash, but the worst is over. Now she just needs to stay off her feet for a few days, maybe a week. Then come back to have the stitches removed."

"This is Vinnie," she repeated, smiling at the doctor. "He'smy rice ball. He'sgot... ahhhhh... tempura... and..."

"Horseradish," Vincent offered.

"Yeah... Horsey horsey horseradish... Honeymayo... Tunamayo... Spicytunamayo..." She seemed to be falling asleep, so he began to get up, but her grip on his wrist tightened. "Vinnie... Don'yougo runnin' away again..."

"I won't," he said, pulling her hand off of his wrist and tucking it under the thin blanket.

"Good. 'Cause ifyou try... I'll throwmy shuriken. An' it'll WHACK you onthe back o' the head! Hahaha..."

"She needs to rest," the doctor said, walking toward the door and gesturing for him to follow. "I hope you understand."

"Of course." He took one more look at her, ingraining the image into his mind, and rose to his feet, following the doctor out.

\\\\\

"Vinnie... I wanna do somethin'..."

"What is it?" She hesitated a moment before lunging at him.

"I wanna BITE YOUR NECK!" And she did.

"Yaaah! What was that for?!"

"It just looked so delicious..."

"Are you still medicated?"

"Maybe... Maybe I've always been..."

"Pardon?"

"Maybe I've... always..." She dropped her head onto his chest and began snoring loudly.

\\\\\

"You can't. Not yet."

"I'm telling you, I feel fine!"

"You feel fine now, but once you start walking around and trying to fight, you're going to collapse and make your condition worse."

"I don't 'have a condition'. I had a wound, and it healed, so let's go! We've got business to attend to!"

"And I say it's not healed enough. You need to give it a few more days."

"A few more days, while you go out there getting yourself killed? I don't think so."

"It wasn't that bad."

"You were bleeding a lot more than I did! I'm surprised you made it back by yourself."

"But my wounds heal faster... That's not the point. We're staying here until you're in top form again."

"Is this because of my old man? Did Godo make you promise to protect me or something stupid like that?"

"Yuffie... Haven't we known each other long enough by now? I have never paid any mind to what that man wants. I protect you, for you. No one else." This definitely calmed her a bit, but she wasn't about to lose this argument.

"That's... sweet, but I'm still going." She picked up her shuriken and headed for the door. Vincent moved swiftly to block her way and practically threw her back into her recliner.

"And I say we're staying. I know your strength fairly well. If I can toss you around that easily, you're clearly not ready to fight."

"You just think I'm some dumb, helpless kid, don't you?" She jumped out of the chair to confront him once again. "Too small, too weak, not ready to face the world!"

"I have never thought that of you. None of those things are true. Where is this coming from?"

"You're just such a pain, never saying what you think, you always give me those sympathetic looks and it makes me want to punch you! I'm just an annoying kid weighing you down, aren't I? Aren't I?"

"I don't understand. You're the opposite of everything you think I see in you." His calm tone just served to anger her even further.

"Get mad, damn it! Admit it, Vinnie! I annoy you, don't I? I KNOW I ANNOY YOU!"

"How do you know how I really feel?" It was the closest he had ever come to yelling at her.

He had stepped forward, grabbing her flailing arms, and before he knew it, his face was inches away from hers. He stared at her lips. His breathing grew heavy. He moved forward, ever so slightly... Then looked away, lowering his head. This seemed to make her more angry than the entire argument: she grabbed him by the shirt, turned around and slammed him against the wall. This exertion made her wound give out a spike of pain, but she rode it out, maintaining her grip on his green and brown uniform shirt.

"I'm not waiting any more." For just a second, he had thought she was continuing the argument, but that definitely wasn't what she was talking about. She relinquished her hold on his shirt to move her hands up to his face before pressing her lips against his.

It was definitely something he hadn't experienced in a very long time. It was surprisingly similar to when she made him try candy for the first time since his slumber. His jaws tingled with agonizing delight. Blood rushed up to his cheeks, his breathing complicating once again. When she finally pulled away, he licked his lips, instinctively, unintentionally, and raised his hand up to his mouth, embarrassed by the impulsive reaction.

"Well, mister Valentine, how was that?"

"...Candy..."

She raised a hand to her cheek, knowing exactly what he meant. It only took a few more seconds for Vincent to move in closer and reciprocate. He didn't remember ever being any good at this, but he couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. Everything else seemed to fade from his mind, everything but Yuffie Kisaragi. Unfortunately, he had leaned in a bit too far, and the two came tumbling down, flailing and twisting on the way, so that Vincent's back ended up hitting the floor. Yuffie laughed her maniacal laugh, and ran her fingers through his hair.

"So, a few more days, huh? I think I can manage."

\\\\\

She opened her eyes, squinting at the lamp light.

"Turn that ooooff..." There was no answer. Vincent was lying at a seemingly uncomfortable angle, most of his back leaning against the wall, and she had been lying on him, her arms wrapped around his abdomen, her head digging into his chest. She pushed against his torso now, using him as a springboard to rise to a sitting position and turn off the infernal lamp. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but once they did, she marveled at the sight of Vincent illuminated only by the moon. He had shed his jacket hours ago, along with the uniform overshirt, leaving the loose black shirt beneath it. The moonlight highlighted his pale skin in all the right ways, and his sleeping face was just so divine.

Come to think of it, she could be wrong, but she felt this was the first time she had seen him sleeping! He always seemed somehow to sleep after her, and wake up before she did. She remembered, in the past, asking many times if he ever really slept at all, and of course he had answered "Yes". And look at that - he'd been telling the truth. She brushed strands of his black hair away from his eyes, and caressed the side of his face.

"Is it weird that I wanna kiss him again, already? In his sleep though? Isn't that creepy?" She debated silently with herself for a moment before shrugging and leaning closer to him. "What the hell, just one on the cheek won't hurt anybody." She pressed her lips against his right cheek, enjoying the icy cold feeling, but wasn't able to leave it simply at that. She moved lower down and kissed the side of his neck, just under his jaw. Then farther down the neck...

"Please don't do that."

"Yaaaaah!" Yuffie jumped, startled. "G... Good mornin', Vinnie... Ha... Hahaha... Aaahh..."

"Good morning," he replied, before slowly closing his eyes once more.

"Wait..." He opened them, and gave her his full attention.

"Yes?"

She gently grabbed his right hand and ran her fingers up and down his palm, thinking of what to say. This wasn't usually a problem for her, but she had so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask him, and it all tried to come out at once, with the result that nothing did. She opened her mouth, and... Nothing. She let out a humorless laugh and let her head fall onto his chest. She then made an agonized groan. Almost a minute that seemed much, much longer passed, before Vincent filled the silence.

"Would you like me to...?" He trailed off, rethinking his question. She couldn't see it, but his pale cheeks were turning the slightest, barely noticeable shade of pink. "Would you be okay with me... putting my arms around you?"

"Yes," she said much louder than she had meant to, letting out a laugh. "Please." And he did. Slowly, taking in every sensation, the feeling of the fabric of her uniform, the feeling of her smooth skin, the contented sigh she breathed into his heartbeat. It was something he hadn't done... Something he had wanted to do for so long now. To obtain it, now, felt as if he had reached a divine state of being. Pink cheeks intensified. And he now wanted more of that "candy", but restrained himself for the time being. If Yuffie had something to say, he would listen. Kissing her would simply make her lose her train of thought - or at least, that was the effect it had on him...

"So, Vincent..." Yuffie eventually sat back up, using his body to push against once again, but kept her eyes on him. "How do you feel about me?" His cheeks were quite visibly pink now, and she smiled at this sight, but said nothing else, waiting for his reply, which took quite a while to arrive.

"Before I answer, I just want to let you know... I... I've never been good at this sort of thing, or at least, I feel I haven't. And I'm not used to... speaking personally about my emotions."

"I never would have guessed," she said, deadpan. She thought of apologizing, but decided against it.

"I just wanted to make it known beforehand, in case anything comes out wrong, or I say something disappointing."

"Vince, you're fine. I'll be fine as long as you don't say 'This was a one-time thing, and now we have to go back to "normal" like it never happened'..." She tried her best monotone, eerily soothing Vincent Valentine impression. If he found it humorous, he showed no sign.

"I won't say this was a 'one-time thing'," he assured her. "I clearly have feelings for you."

"CLEARLY!" She couldn't resist laughing at the top of her lungs, and fell off of him, onto the pile of blankets and cushions on the floor, rolling. Well, there went that moment. "CLEARLY!"

"I'm going back to sleep," he said, closing his eyes.

"No, wait, wait-!" He opened them, and once again, gave her his full attention. "I'm sorry. Go on. Please go on. Please."

"Very well..."

He sat up, turned, brushed hair from his face, and looked into her eyes. She grabbed one of the many large cushions in the pile and held it in front of her, resting her chin on it as she stared at his face expectantly.

"Yuffie..." She beamed at the sound of her name, but nothing else was said for some time. She waited as patiently as she could, but did start tapping a familiar drumbeat with her fingers against the cushion eventually. "When I think of you, I..." Another pause, this one much shorter. "My heart hurts."

"Your heart... hurts?"

"It aches. It stretches out. It wants..."

"Yes?" She couldn't resist prompting him to go on. "It wants...?" He glanced downward for a moment, before looking into her eyes once more.

"You."

"O... Oh..." Yuffie's face turned red, and she tried very hard to pretend there was something of extreme interest on the cushion-covered floor.

"It wants to hear your voice... When you speak to me, it's a necessary music. Everything else is like a part of a film with no background track. I can hear it, I can enjoy it, but the score elevates the film, makes the important moments that much more significant."

"...Wow."

"It wants the security of having you close. Of knowing that you're around. I can't remember being able to fully relax around anyone but you." Yuffie raised an eyebrow. Vincent, relaxed? Well, she had seen him relaxed before, but completely? It was hard to imagine. "It wants... to hold you. It wants to hold onto you so tight, but at the same time, not so tight that you're suffocated, or feel the urge to run away. I don't want to hurt you..." He hesitated a moment. "Now that I've held you in my arms, I honestly don't know if I can walk that line. I want... This will no doubt sound off-putting, and I'm not sure how to say it well, but... I want to hold you tighter and tighter. I feel this need to pull you into myself. That's... Well, I tried. I suppose I talked more about what I 'want' and not what I 'feel', but... As I've said, I'm not good at this. I feel good when you're around. I feel that I'm stuck in a perpetual state of free-fall. I feel... like my heart is going to explode."

Not able to resist any longer, he threw his arms around her once again, this time kissing her, a long, drawn-out kiss that she didn't fight in the slightest. When he broke away, he lowered his head, but Yuffie grabbed him by the jaw and forced him to look into her eyes.

"I won't let you feel sorry about kissing me, Vincent Valentine. I will not."

"I thank you." He rested his head on her shoulder, breathing deeply, slowly. "I can't... I can't speak any more, I don't think I have the strength. That was so taxing. Please just let me stay like this for now."

"I'd like that," she said, caressing his cheek and running the other hand up and down his back. "In the meantime, I'll try to say how I feel about you... Though I'm tempted to just say 'Yeah, what you said'..." He scoffed at this. A barely audible, one-syllable laugh. It made her smile all over again. "I like you, Vincent. I've liked you for years. Most of my happiest moments are when we're together. I respect that you're an individual, just like me. We're our own people with our own thoughts, feelings, and dreams. But when I'm with you..." She took a moment to think. "It's like the jigsaw puzzle is complete, and everything is more... Just more. Everything is right. There's something that you have, Vinnie, that I don't. And there's something I've got, that you don't. And that's the way it should be, I guess. You're the peanut butter to my bananas. The tuna to my spicy mayo. The sake to my full moon dango... You make me feel like..." She shook her head, not sure what else to say. He raised his head from her shoulders and played absentmindedly with her hair, waiting as patiently as ever. "Like home," she finally said. He looked into her eyes and nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "No matter where I go, if you're there, I'm home. I've liked many people in my life, but... No one else has ever felt like home."

\\\\\

Yuffie hummed happily as she shuffled playing cards in the dining room, watching Vincent work his culinary magic from over the half-wall separating it from the kitchen. She didn't know what he was making - and didn't want to spoil the surprise by asking - but it smelled like it contained eggs, tomatoes, and some of her favorite spices.

"I have more to say."

"What?" She messed up the "bridge" part of her most recent shuffle, and collected the cards with a low growl.

"About my feelings." She stared at him with a huge smile.

"It's been three hours. You're saying this now?"

"I wasn't ready."

"I get it, I get it," she said. "I'm listening, fire away."

"If I'm going to be honest, I... have wanted to do that for a long time."

"To do what?" There was a pause.

"Don't make me say it..."

"...Huh?" The stirring done for the moment, Vincent lowered the heat and set the pot to simmer before turning around, resting his elbows atop the half-wall, his face flushed pink.

"I've wanted to hold you... Kiss you... Fall asleep with you lying so close..."

"We've slept in the same tent loads of times before," she said with a lilt in her voice, trying to play coy, though her cheeks were burning.

"You know what I mean. I've wanted it... But I never did anything about it. I can't stand when anyone assumes something about me, so I didn't want to do it to you. And I... I suppose I was too afraid to ask."

"Wait wait wait... Let me backtrack here... How long?"

"..."

"How long have you liked me, Vinnie?"

"Around three years ago. We went on a journey together, to help build defenses around the smaller towns. It was just the two of us, and you had no one else to talk to, so you talked to me. A lot."

"I remember. What happened?"

"I got used to you being around..." He paused, shaking his head. "I started to notice things about you. How resourceful and determined you are. Your passion. Your energy, which could actually be useful if you channeled it productively. But even when it's not..." He laughed. "Well... Your heart that holds justice on such a high pedestal. Your bizarre way of words. There were so many things about you that had a particular charm or another. It got to the point that it was hard not to react."

"Do I... still have that charm now?"

"Even more." Cheeks burning again.

"And you've felt this way the whole time, and never said anything?"

"Exactly."

"Hmph. I see."

"I couldn't. I couldn't ask anything more of you, after all you've given me."

"...What? Vinnie, what are you TALKING about? You've never asked anything from me, and I can't recall ever doing anything special for you."

"But you have," he said, turning to his stew once again, stirring and taking a tiny taste before adding more parsley. "Ever since we met. I'm not the person I was when that happened, you know."

"I know this. You've loosened up a lot. You've healed. You can talk about your feelings, smile, laugh... sing..." The memory of his singing voice put a huge smile on her face, and she couldn't wait to hear it again.

"I was so buried in guilt and sorrow, that I couldn't see the world for what it was. I had lost the 'me' at the center of my heart." He stirred it one more time before turning the heat down even more, and walked around the half-wall to the dining room. "But then some random strangers came by and woke me up, and somehow or another, after considerable time together, I came to know them all as friends. Something I thought I could never have, something I had convinced myself I didn't deserve. But one in particular..."

"Meeee!" She raised her arm and waved it around wildly.

"Yes, you," he said, stepping closer. Instead of sitting at the table, he rested his foot on the chair next to her and leaned down, taking her hand in his and lifting it up to his mouth. He pressed his lips against the back of her hand, then ever so slowly turned it over to kiss the palm, just above the thumb. "You helped me pull myself out of that darkness. Slowly, but surely, over the years. You set a good example, and gave me good advice, and were just good for my health in general." He kissed her palm again, closer to her pinky finger this time, before curling up her fingers and kissing each knuckle, excruciatingly slowly. "Just by being yourself... Just by being with me... You helped me wake up... Truly awaken..." He took his foot from the chair and inched closer to her, now kissing her wrist, just below the palm. "And slowly, ever so slowly, I finally started shedding all that old skin..." He turned her arm just slightly and kissed again, just below her pulse. "And I was able to let myself live again..." He kissed her arm just beneath the elbow, then moved up to her shoulder. "So you see... You've given me very much."

"Uh-huh," Yuffie nodded, her face beet-red, feeling a bit light-headed. Vincent kissed her shoulder a second time, and let his breath linger against it for a moment.

"Part of my mind feels I should sit at your feet, begging for your praise, as unhealthy as that sounds," he said slowly. "But as you said, we are two equal individuals. And I don't think you'd want me to do something like put you on a pedestal. Well... let's face it, your ego would definitely enjoy it." He lifted his head to plant a kiss on her cheek, just barely grazing her skin, before dropping down to the floor and kissing her left knee, wrapping his arms around her legs. "But just this once, indulge me."

He brought his head down to rest on her knee, clinging to her as if for dear life. Some of the blood finally left Yuffie's face, and she ran her hands through his hair, smiling.

"Aw... Vinnie, that was beautiful... Now get back up here so I can eat your face."

"What a strange choice of words." But he said nothing more, as Yuffie pulled him up and covered his mouth with her own.

\\\\\

Vincent awoke much earlier than he had planned, and set to work cleaning the guest house. He didn't have any sort of plan; he simply moved from one area to another and back again, tidying up piece by piece, sometimes even forgetting about one corner of a room for more than half an hour.

"Quit that," he heard, just as he was wiping down the kitchen counter. Her voice was sleepy, strained, vowels drawn out.

"Quit what, exactly?"

"Mmmfrbf... Cleaning. Cleaning, cleaning!" She flailed her limbs weakly, not wanting to exert any effort.

"Why should I stop cleaning?" He asked, though he put down the washcloth and washed his hands in the sink, before turning toward the pillow fort. "I'd like to surprise our hosts with a clean house."

"Too bad. I want this place to be a garbage can. A dirty garbage can!"

"Do you really, or are you being contrary for the sake of it?"

"GARBAGE CAN!"

"You're ridiculous."

"Shut up! Come back to bed!" Vincent sighed and approached the fort, He knelt down and brushed his hand over her cheek, then through her brown hair. "Heehee... I win."

"You certainly do." They kissed, a short, sleepy, comfortable kiss, and she yawned into his face.

"Okay, come lay down."

"How long do you expect me to lie here doing nothing?" She let out a "Hmmm", feigning deep thought before answering.

"Until your body has a me-shaped imprint, like when you lift furniture off of carpet."

"Even if that were possible, it would take weeks, or even months."

"Well then, I guess you've got a full schedule." She yanked on his hand, and he allowed himself to be pulled back down, cascading over her like a clumsy wave, and rolling until his back hit the wall just beneath the bay window that cast light on her gorgeous frame. He settled in, squeezing between the blankets and sheets, and caressed her exposed shoulder before kissing it gently. "I love that," she sighed.

"I do, too," he said, his lips venturing upwards to press against her neck, ushering forth a long, high-pitched sound from the woman.

"Ohh no, mister, you don't get to do that," she said, rolling over and lunging at his neck with her own open lips. "Not unless I can do this!" At the slightest touch, Vincent took in a sharp breath and made what she could only guess would be a scream if he hadn't kept his mouth closed. He kissed the soft area between her neck and shoulder, exhaling heavily. "Aahhhh..." They both remained locked in a nearly paralyzed state, clinging to each other, mouths on necks, hearts beating faster, breathing heavy, blood on fire. It was Yuffie who summoned up the strength to speak first. "Considering... just how long you've been touch-starved, this has gotta be bordering on painful for you, isn't it?" Almost every breath sent him into another spasm.

"Yes." His breath grazed her neck once again, and her muscles tensed as she tried to pull him even closer, if that were possible.

"Do you... want me to stop?"

"No," he sighed, lifting his lips from her neck only to kiss her again.

"Hooo... I think my brain's gonna go dead before long..." She returned the favor, but not before biting him, agonizingly gently.

"Aahhh... I think mine already has."

\\\\\

Yuffie woke up, propped herself up on her elbow, and let out a loud yawn as she lay there playing with Vincent's hair.

"Did we fall asleep again?"

"It seems we did." Vincent slowly opened his eyes, gazing up lovingly at the ninja, who had gone from messing with his hair, to caressing his hand.

"Sucking on each other's necks, huh? What a way to pass out." The two remained silent for a moment. "But damn, that was good."

"I was afraid."

"Afraid? Vince, you did great, I promise." She switched to moving her fingers around his face.

"That's not what I meant... What are you doing?"

"Memorizing the curves of your face." Hearing this, Vincent let out a very short, high-pitched sound. It was so faint, she thought for a moment she had imagined it. "Vince... Did you just squeak?"

"I think it's the most romantic thing you've said to me so far, that's all." Her face went red, and she switched back to playing with his hair. "I didn't say you had to stop."

"So, what were you afraid of?" She asked, a bit too loudly, trying desperately to take the subject off of herself. He smiled a cunning smile, but followed the shift.

"I want to touch you so badly," he said, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around her midsection. "Ever since you kissed me and began this chain reaction, I've felt that I was given some silent permission - that we were both given some silent permission, to touch each other. And I just keep doing it. I realize I should ask more... You should ask more, too."

"Guilty," she laughed. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yes. Is it okay to put my arms here?"

"Very."

"And yet, I still want more. And I'm afraid... that I won't be able to keep convincing myself to be reasonable. But when we..." He trailed off, blushing.

"Paralyzed each other?" Yuffie offered.

"I remembered how strong you are," he nodded. "If I ever get carried away..."

"Vinnie, you're a gentleman and a half. I'm the one I'm worried about on that front. There're a lot of things I wanna do to you... er... WITH you... That I know both of us aren't ready for right now. And it's hard to fight. I mean, you're right here. You're clearly okay with me making you my personal make-out machine. So the logical temptation part of my brain says 'That means everything's on the table!'... but it's not. I think... If we're both reasonable, and talk to each other before we cross any new territory... We'll be okay."

"Thank you for that assurance." He removed his arms from around her abdomen and lazily grabbed her right hand, pulling it closer and pressing it against his cheek. "And thank you for sharing. It's good to know I'm not the only one going mad over here." She smiled and dropped back down, her head colliding with his stomach. He let out a painful groan, but otherwise didn't seem to mind. He set both hands to work brushing through her hair. They both let out content sighs and lay in silence for a while.

"So, are you okay with being a consort?" This question made Vincent raise an eyebrow.

"...What?"

\\\\\

"Ahhh... I feel so much better!" Yuffie swung her arm around in a circle and stretched before jumping back onto the cushion pile, colliding with Vincent. "Thanks for all the medicine."

"Medicine...?" Before he could ask further, she covered his lips with her own, pressing down hard, as if trying to bury him in the pillows. "Mm.."

'Mmm..."

"So, I suppose this is our last night here," he said when he could speak once more. "We should continue to North Corel in the morning."

"Yeah... Vinnie, sing to me."

"Pardon?"

"Sing me a song!"

"You want to hear me sing? My voice is..." She kissed him again, furiously this time.

"I won't let you finish that sentence," she said, brushing her fingers against his skin. "Sing. Please." He sat up, cleared his throat, took a sip of water from the glass on the windowsill, and hesitated for a moment, before beginning.

"Moon... river...

Wider than a mile.

I'm crossing you in style some day.

Oh, dream maker,

you heart breaker.

Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way.

Two drifters,

off to see the world.

There's such a lot of world to see.

We're after the same..."

His voice cracked. He cleared his throat once more before continuing.

"...Rainbow's end.

Waitin' 'round the bend.

My huckleberry friend.

Moon river... and me."

After a considerable silence, he cleared his throat one more time before saying "Something like that."

"Hmm... You're right, Vinnie. Your singing isn't all that great." He scoffed. She grasped his face in both hands. "But it's gorgeous to me." And she kissed him. Over and over and over again.

\\\\\

[ ~ One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ ]

#yeah I don't like slow-burns so uh... #FFVII #Final Fantasy VII #Final Fantasy #Yuffie Kisaragi

[winchestergypsies-blog]

Best That I Can

Summary: You are a single mother, with all of the struggles, and when the father of your child comes back into your life you are faced with giving up your life now to help your son. Words: 1.4k (I’m wordy!) Pairing: CastielXReader Warnings: Struggles that come with being a single hardworking mother, little bit of angst (like microscopic amounts), a feely one shot.

You had been gone for less than a day. Working so hard to make next month’s rent, and to keep food on the table, and clothes on your back.

You were so exhausted, all that you wanted was to lay in your bed and sleep for a whole week. But you couldn’t, because you had another shift tomorrow morning. At five in the morning. It was midnight, so you had to get three hours of sleep before you had to get up again.

“Momma?” Your son’s voice called out from the bed in the room you gave up for him.

“Yes, Mason?” You whispered, walking through the door.

Moving into the room, you saw moonlight streaming through the window that had part of his covered in cardboard and duct tape, the bed was small and uncomfortable but at least you could give him one,  and there were toys all over the floor, even though you two had worked on cleaning as you played.

“Do-do you have to-have to go to work tomorrow?” He asked in a small voice that broke your heart.

“Yes baby, I’m sorry.” You sighed, setting your hand on his dark hair.

Mason frowned, and rolled onto his side away from you. You knew he missed you, and you hated working at that stupid diner all damn day, and going to school online during your breaks, at night, and on your days off. But it was all for him, no matter how much it broke your heart to be anywhere but his side. It was all for him.

“Mason, you know I love you. And soon, I promise, we can be normal. I’ll be here to tuck you in and to make you sack lunches, and we’ll have a house and a yard. I’m doing the best that I can for you.” You swore to him, with weariness in you voice and tears in your eyes.

He rolled back over to you, and those beautiful blue eyes that took you by surprise every time you saw them analyzed your face.

“Momma, please don’t cry.” He whispered, and placed a tiny kiss on your hand, then after a moment. “I’ll bet we can get a dog.”

You smiled and touched your forehead to his. You placed a kiss on his cheek, pulled the worn blanket up, and placed your hands on his face.

“I’ll let you name him.” You promised. “Now go to sleep, sweet boy.”

You stood, and watched him as he fell asleep. Then you went to the couch that you slept on every night for four years. Your Y/H/C locks fell into your face as you bowed your head and folded your hands together.

“I used to be the praying type, until you left.” You began.

You felt the energy of the room change, and you hoped that mean he was listening.

“You-you told me that I could pray to you one day, when you got your wings back. And I hope you have them, because I need you to come to me. Listen, Angel. We have a son from when you were human. His name is Mason, he looks just like you. And I don’t get to see him that much because I work all the time. So I’m asking you for a favor.” Your voice was thick with emotion and exhaustion. “Cas-Castiel… Please help me. I’m doing the best that I can, but it’s not good enough. So please, come back to me.”

You sat in silence for a minute. Looking around your apartment that was too small, in a world that was too big, and life was too hard. You really could use your angel right now.

“DAMMIT!” You cried out.

You rested your head in your hands, and then heard a soft flutter of wings.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up, and there he was. Exactly as you remembered him. Tall, strong, handsome, and those kind but powerful, electric blue eyes that your son had stared at you in confusion. You stood silently and slowly. You reached your hand out to touch the side of his face.

“Castiel?” You whispered.

He nodded, and you reached your arms out, encircling his body in a desperate embrace. Castiel wrapped his arms around you as well, but awkwardly. So you released.

“Can you help me?” You questioned.

“What do you need help with?” He asked.

You looked around you, the bags under your eyes catching all of the shadows and the hollowness of your face haunting. You focused on the half-empty cereal box on the counter for a moment, then your eyes moved onto the old toys that you had gotten from garage sells and resale stores, and onto the broken window in the bedroom.

“I need your help to keep my-our son safe and healthy and happy.”

Castiel looked at you the way he did all those years ago. With affection in his eyes, and something new that you couldn’t place.

“Can I meet him?” He asked timidly.

Then a warm smile crossed your face, and you felt yourself soften.

“He’s sleeping now, but if you’re going to stay I’ll call in sick to work… And we can spend the day together.” As it left your mouth, it sounded like a daydream.

Castiel smiled, then placed his hand on your shoulder.

“I would like that very much.”

You smiled, and jumped onto him in a hug. Then you backed off, and looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry, I’m just so tired I forgot about boundaries.” Then you called your boss and quietly faked a cough, Castiel was staring at you.

“Would you like for me to help you sleep?” He asked.

“You can do that?”

“That and much more.” Then he reached his hand up to your forehead and tapped his index and middle finger to it.

Then you were out like a light.

Light fell softly on your face. The smell of pancakes wrapped around you comfortably.

“So, if you’re my-my dad?” Mason’s little voice asked. “Does that mean you live with us now?”

You opened your eyes, you were on your red couch, covered in a blanket, and it was light outside. You shot up, and then remembered, Castiel. He was here.

And he had breakfast. And coffee Really an angel.

“Maybe… But not here.” He said, and gave an awkward smile.

You looked at him, standing and walking to your table, there were only two seats, that were occupied by the two who looked so much alike, so you grabbed a plate of the pancakes and went the couch. Listening to the pair.

“Why not?” Mason questioned with pancakes in his mouth.

You decided to butt in after swallowing your food.

“Manners.” You chided, as Mason’s pancakes were falling out of his mouth.

Mason and Castiel both turned to you, and with the same facial feature raised their eyebrows confusedly.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” You chided.

The pair turned back to each other.

“I have somewhere much safer and fun to go.” He smiled at Mason again, and Mason smiled back.

Mason’s little blue eyes lit up, and he ran down from the table and to you.

“Momma, can we go with Dad. Please?” He begged, and those sweet puppy eyes stared into you.

“Let me talk to Cas.” You placed your head on the side of his head.

“Your sayin-saying it wrong.” He stuttered, and your raised an eyebrow.

“It’s pronounced Dad. Not Cas.” Mason grinned at you and then ran into his room.

You rose, still in your work clothes from last night, and then stared at the angel before you. You wanted so badly to go with him, wherever he went, to let Mason have a dad and to let yourself fall in love. But you couldn’t just leave your job, and Mason’s preschool, and your apartment.

“I sense hesitation.” Castiel murmured.

“I can’t just leave my life, my job, my friends.” You began.

“Y/N, I can’t let you two live here.” Cas interrupted.

You stared at him, with fire in your Y/E/C eyes, you raised a single eyebrow and crossed your arms.

“Then why have you let us live here?” You questioned.

Castiel’s eyes fell to the floor in guilt, and you stared at him.

“Y/N,” He whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he existed and I thought that you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

You softened, uncrossing your arms.

“Do you really think that you could make our lives better?”

Castiel got into your personal space, and made eye contact with you. Those eyes that you loved oh-so-much.

“I swear to you. I will do the best that I can.”

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #spn #spn oneshot #spn imagine #spn fic #castiel #misha collins