#I always heard it as ''winter is a glance of a chicken'' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iminloveweveryone · 1 year ago

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Cold

Grumpy simon smut

Here you go since I’m bad at writing smut without plot like gr anyway I think this is cute he’s kinda jealous a bit grumpy

Also if you have requests send them in! I’m always looking for ideas.

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“So? Are you in?”

“…”

“Yes.”

“Good, you leave tomorrow. 6 am.”

…

That’s how I found myself on a helicopter in the early morning, being transferred to the base where task force 141 resides.

I stared out the window quietly, since I’d run out of things to talk about with the pilot. I see a large building come into view as we slowly start to descend.

The heli lands and I grab onto my large duffel bag, swinging it over my shoulder. I look over our surroundings and see four men standing in the distance. I recognize only one, captain price.

I step out and walk over towards the group, a smile on my face.

“Hi, I’m Alessandra.” I say as I look between them. “John price, I’ve heard about you, laswell

Says your one hell of a shot.” He smiles at me and I only nod along.

“Soap, you can call me John if ya like lass.” He says with a grin spread across his face, I can’t help but notice his hair, which is cut into a Mohawk. I smile at the friendly man and shake his hand.

“I’m Kyle, team calls me Gaz though.” He nods at me before crossing his arms.

I look over to the last man who stays silent before Soap speaks up. “This here is si-“

“Ghost.” He says cutting off soap. I nod and give him a small smile.

The walk me through the base and what missions may come up soon, before dropping me off at my room and letting me settle in.

I place the few items I have around the rooms before smiling to myself and exiting. I wander down the hallway to where I remember the kitchen was.

It smells good?

I walk in and see price in the kitchen, storing something in a pot. “Ooh what are you makin?” I ask curiously as I take a seat at the kitchen counter.

“Chilli, perfect for winter, no?” He glances at me and I nod. I turn my head as soap walks into the kitchen “he says it’s world famous” he grins “honestly he probably stole the recipe from some old woman” he says making me laugh.

Price serves us a bowl of chilli and a piece of bread on the side. I begin eating when I look around and notice Ghost is absent from the table.

Gaz must have noticed me looking around as he speaks up. “Doesn’t like to eat around new people” he shrugs “don’t take it personal” he says with a friendly smile.

We all finished our food and have moved onto to board games, which I have to say i am the best at by far.

We’re playing charades, which Ghost has decided to not show up for either.

I was partnered with soap, and we were winning by a lot.

“Okay three words.” Gaz nods at the captain “first word.” He starts waving his arms around like a distressed seagull.

“Uh..windmill” He shakes his head and starts doing the motion again. “Damn, uh..” the timer goes off and soap and I cheer.

“It was flying a kite! I was trying to do a flying motion like a chicken” he puts his head in his hands dramatically.

“Chickens are horrible at flying idiot!” Price shouts before we all burst out into laughter, soap practically falling to the floor.

We play a few more rounds before calling it a night and everyone starts to head off to bed.

I’m waking down the hallway as I hear price call out to me, I turn to look at him.

“So you know, you’ll be shadowing Ghost tomorrow. Just to get a feel of things round here.” He says before patting my shoulder and heading off somewhere.

I head off to bed, practically falling asleep as soon as my face hits the pillow.

…

I’ve been looking for a Ghost for a while now, since I was supposed to shadow him. But he really lives up to his name since he is nowhere to be found.

I reach a shooting range which seems to be empty until I spot him at the very last lane. I walk inside and stand a few feet away.

He puts his gun down and turns to face me, somehow sending I was there..

He gives me a blank look probably wondering what I was doing but not saying anything.

“Price said I would shadow you today, to get a feel for things I guess?” I say as he only sighs and starts to put his gun away.

“So where are we going? Do you have to do much around here or is it more like waiting for the next mission?” I wonder out loud as he stays silent which urges me to talk more.

“And about the mission, how do you guys plan them? Or is it price who does most of it and then you guys kinda just follow the plan.” I say not even facing him anymore as I ramble on.

“Jesus..” I hear him mumble under his breath as he starts to walk out of the room. “Hey! Where are you going lieutenant?” I ask as I trail behind him.

He walks down a long hallway, a few soldiers passing by us and giving him a nod. I look around curiously, not having yet explored this part of the base.

I follow him into a room at the end of the hall, which starts to look more like a office the more I glance around.

As soon as I fully step inside he’s slamming me against the door and locking it. “Don’t know how to be quiet, huh?” He asks as he pins my arms above my head.

I can only sit there and stare at him, fully at a loss for words.

“Acting all friendly with everyone, don’t you know when to shut up? Don’t you notice all the people eyeing you.” He says in a cold tone as his face is inches away from mine.

“Need someone to teach ya?” He stares me dead in the eyes. I nod my head at him slowly.

“Words sweetheart, words.” He mumbles as he looks down at me. “Yes..”

“Yes what?” He asks teasingly “yes..please.” I swear a see a smirk under that mask.

“That’s better.” He mutters before slowly lowering his head and lifting his mask just enough to show his lips. He kisses along my neck sloppily, leaving hickeys all over the place.

I let out small whimpers, trying to stay quiet in case anyone decides to walk by here. His hands roam down to my waist and gives it a little squeeze before he’s picking me up and putting me back down on his desk.

He slowly reaches down to my pants, harshly pulling them down without any warning. His hands find the hem of my panties and he tugs on them before looking up to me, seemingly for permission. I nod at him eagerly as he drops the to the floor, letting them fall in some unknown corner.

I hear heavy breathing and the sound of his belt clanging as he moves to undo it. His pants drop along with his boxers.

I look down and damn.

He moves closer, holding onto my thighs with his large hands. He lines it up with my entrance and slowly starts to push in, giving me a few seconds to adjust.

I let out whimpers and moans at the feeling of him inside, which only seems to feed his ego and make him more eager.

He starts to move, his pace slow at first. “Fuck, so tight..” he mumbles into my neck as he thrusts faster. “Doing so good f’me”

His hips rocks into me, pounding harder until I can practically feel his tip in my stomach. I let out loud moans at the feeling.

“Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, yeah?” I bite down onto my lip, trying to keep any sounds inside. He moves relentlessly, practically feral.

“Gho..” my voice is hoarse as I speak.

“Hm?” He says breathlessly. “M’ so close..gonna cum..” I whine into his shoulder. “Fuck, fuck..gonna cum for me? For your lieutenant?” He grunts into my ear as I only nod at him eagerly.

He holds onto my thighs harshly as I feel the waves of my orgasm hit me, hard. My legs shake a little but he holds them down, as he cums right after me.

“Think ya can give me one more?” He says cockily before he starts pounding into me again. I let out whines as he only goes harder this time.

“S’too much..” I moan out “you can do it, you’re doing so good.” He encourages as his hands find my waist and he clamps down on it.

“Fuck, gonna leave marks all over your body.” He grumbles “everyone will know who you belong to then.”

I stay silent, too lost in the pleasure he’s giving me to respond. I feel myself once again reaching a high and my hands find his back, probably leaving marks all over.

“You close?” He asks and I nod eagerly. I open my mouth a little as the feeling in my stomach rises. “You wanna cum?” He asks “yes!” I practically shout. “say your mine then.” He says coldly.

“I’m..yours, please..” I pant out as his grip on my waist tightens “good girl, so good f’me.” He says as I come undone on his cock.

Heavy breathing fills the room as he holds onto me tightly. Letting me relax in his arms before pulling out.

“Tired?” He ask softly and I nod against him. He picks me up and dresses me before leading me to my room and letting me fall asleep on his chest.

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#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #call of duty #smut #john prine #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #john mactavish #soap mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #first person #mask

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roomsofangel · 8 months ago

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GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER EIGHT !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings mentions of vomit due to recalling a past experience (mingi being mingi)

wc 1.3k

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

chapter is separated into two! next will hopefully be out sometime this week

you were nervous — so god damn nervous. you walked into the living room, watching as yunho was setting up most of the snack bowls due to fact mingi always ate more than he could genuinely stomach but it always was just part of your nights all together. yunho glances up and smiles at you when he noticed your presence, “hey bub.” he greeted, shifting his focus back to making sure everything was altogether.

“heeyy..” you mumbled, getting out some of the games you all usually play and setting them on the coffee table

yunho let out a huff of air before settling down, collapsing himself onto the couch and throwing his head back onto the soft cushions, “they should be here soon.” he voiced, hand on his forehead and eyes closed. “did loverboy say he’s coming?”

and you couldn’t help but blush, “yah—! don’t call him that!” your voice quieting at the end into a mutter, glancing down as he laughed, mumbling a ‘he totally is’ under his breath with a fit of his own giggles

“not funny.” you huffed, trying not to grin at your older brother’s teasing

“go nuts, eat your weight in pretzels and chips again.” yunho told mingi who was getting comfortable onto the couch after the three of you ate some chicken that was brought when they arrived, criss crossing his legs while yeosang stood next to you near the kitchen, still getting a good enough view of the two tall guys who seemed to be bickering and acting as per usual, unable to stop your little teasing comment of “and nearly fall into a food coma”

mingi gasped and sulked, looking at you and pointing, “that was one time!” a pout on his lips before yunho snorted

yeosang leaned in to the side to whisper into your ear, “i’m so glad i didn’t witness that.” his voice slightly amused and lips curled up, while his gaze was still on mingi and yunho who were trying to decide on the movie you all started with first

“oh yeah— be glad.” you snorted quietly, “he ate more than he knew he could handle, threw up everywhere then fell asleep for nearly two days.” you explained, cringing slightly at the visuals of that night flashing in your head again and yeosang let out a low whistle, brows scrunched and then shook his head

mingi’s whine could be heard again, nearly falling over as he tried to lift himself up in defense, “it was not!” but yunho pulled him back onto the couch, “yes it was! i thought you died!” yunho exclaimed

“anyways..” you turned to look at yeosang who was amused at the sight of your brother and mingi before glancing to you through the corner of his eye, “do you want a drink?” you asked

he turned to face you, “oh please, i’ll just have a water.” he nodded his head and you smiled, hand on the wall as you were getting ready to get back into the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, “are you sure?” and he hums, “mhm.”

part of you felt like a school girl with her first crush, constantly checking the time and looking to see if there was any signs of san on his way yet or that he was near. you poured yeosang his water, iced and in one of the hello kitty cups you made yunho get when the two of you were out shopping, and then made your way back into the living area where they were all more situated. yeosang sitting across from a cuddled up yunho and mingi, in his own blanket that covered most of his lower half resting on the recliner.

“here you go,” you smiled and he thanked you, his eyes looking at the cup with a little grin and took it, having small sips of the water before you took a seat on the other recliner that was across, next to mingi’s side more specifically.

and of course you knew eventually the topic of san would come up, but you didn’t expect it to be as soon as you sat down, yunho’s grin was evident and he looked at you while munching on chips, “so when is your lover boy getting here?”

mingi’s eyes widened, head whipping towards you in surprise, “whaat! y/n has a loverboy?! how did i not know this?” he exclaimed, eyebrows raised

you groaned, ears red as you looked at yunho, “do not!”

“do too!”

yunho shifted his body, leaning back and offering more chips to mingi who happily took some as he continued on exposing you and your little crush that was developing, “its san from across the street.”

“oh shit! that guy? i’ve seen him around, he’s too pretty.” mingi coughed slightly from his mouthful of chips and yeosang muttering a ‘close your mouth’ as if instinct which you weren’t surprised — anyone that knew mingi had one or developed one

and you couldn’t help but smile, not even realizing you were looking down with that little lovestruck look, mumbling a soft “yeah he is pretty..” to yourself

and as if on cue, the doorbell rang and the sound of mingi’s loud screech made you jump up. “mingi!” yeosang scolded, trying not to laugh while he watched you get up to answer the door, yunho lost in his own belly laughs

you mentally begged to anything that was out there that your older brother and his best friend wouldn’t embarrass you too much but that was too much to ask for, you hurried to the door and attempted to straighten out your clothes and make yourself look more presentable before letting out a breath.

when you opened the door, you felt that same breath dissipate. san, oh san. he didn’t have his glasses this time which bummed you out, he looked so pretty with those. but his hair was less messy, you could see he fixed it up and he wore just a regular black tee shirt and black jeans, something casual but he made it look like something that could be on a runway. how was that humanly possible? to make something so mundane look expensive and extraordinary?

“san!” you wanted to slap yourself, you said it too quick and excitedly for your liking but that all went away at the sight of his dimples and slight chuckle,” hey y/n” he greeted with a slight bow, glancing down at the floor, “i hope i’m not too late.”

you waved your hand, as if dismissing his worries, “no no, definitely not!” you reassured, the sounds of yeosang telling mingi to stop being nosy and wait being heard in the background making you press your lips together and hope things would work in your favor, “you’re just on time.”

“is that san?” you could hear mingi

“it definitely is.” yunho’s voice was quieter

“hi san!” mingi’s voice erupted which made san chuckle, looking at you with a little grin while you only have him an apologetic one, “mingi shut up!” yeosang scolded through a snort of his own laugh

“yeaahh.. i’m sorry about him.” you tried to apologize on your friend’s behalf but san shook his head, laughing a bit more at how you reacted

“it’s okay, i have an wooyoung.” he smiled before walking inside fully, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little yourself — you assumed wooyoung was someone like mingi, but you also couldn’t recall ever seeing this wooyoung person. did they not live around here? have they been friends long? you often wondered who san was, what made san… san.

as you walked with san into the living room, all eyes were on you two. mingi’s loud greeting with a mouthful of popcorn, waving while yeosang pinched the bridge of his nose and muttering a ‘what have i done to deserve this’

“i’m sure you remember my brother, yunho.” you said to san, whispering a little in his ear when you leaned in a bit and he nods with a kind smile, “and thats mingi, the dumber in the dumb and dumber.” you pointed to the gasping guy who had his hand on his chest, “and then yeosang.” you smiled, motioning to the brunette who waved slightly. but you didn’t miss the glare he and san shared for a glimpse second

but maybe that was your mind playing tricks on you.

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taglist (open) @myonlyloveseungmin @itsvxlentine @rockstarsanie @brown88 @barbielibra @vixensss @satsuri3su @yessa-vie @yoichiislovie

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 months ago

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Cracks In a Bottle

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Twenty-Five

A JSE Fanfic

Man it feels like forever since I've written the kids. I missed them. Can't believe we're already halfway through the winter arc! The gang has figured out what that weird doll does, and it's really cause for concern. They try to find some way to get rid of it, but everything ends up in dead ends, and JJ is starting to get frustrated with all this. Meanwhile, Christmas and exams are fast approaching, and the kids have to deal with that before they're able to really do anything.

More of this AU | From the Start | Read on AO3 at CrystalNinjaPhoenix

++++++++++++++++++++

“That is the most messed-up thing I’ve ever heard,” Jackie said.

The whole gang was gathered at Zelly’s, which was pretty much empty besides them. The shop may have served hot chocolate in the winter, but it was better known for its ice cream, so summer was always busiest. That should have meant the kids were more comfortable talking about their adventures since no one could overhear, but something about the empty area made them all uneasy. Their words echoed more.

“It’s so messed up!” Chase agreed in a whisper-shout. “Are you two really sure that’s what the doll is doing?”

Marvin and JJ nod in unison. “We tested it out twice,” Marvin said. “I mean, I guess you could try it for yourself if you want. Are you okay with that, JJ?”

JJ hesitated, then nodded.

“Wow. Okay uhh...” Chase bit his lip, thinking. “Do the chicken dance.”

JJ stiffened. And then, despite clearly not wanting to, he stood up and started to do the chicken dance. Chase couldn’t help but laugh.

“You can stop!” Schneep hurriedly said.

JJ stopped and immediately sat down, face red with embarrassment.

“Chase!” Stacy glared at him.

“Huh? What?” Chase blinked, confused. “Nobody saw besides us.”

“He didn’t want to do it!”

“Yeah exactly—that’s how I knew it would be magic.”

“You did not have to laugh, Chase,” Schneep pointed out.

“Sorry... It wasn’t funny, it was just...” Chase gestures vaguely. It was a little funny to see JJ do something ridiculous he wouldn’t usually do. But this was serious time. “So, uh, guess we really gotta get rid of that doll, then? Do you have it?”

Nodding, JJ took it out of his bag and put it on the table between his and Marvin’s hot chocolate mugs.

“Huh... you’re right, it does look... bigger.” Jackie reached over and picked it up. “Less skinny.” He gave it an experimental squeeze. “You didn’t feel that?”

Not at all, JJ said.

“Okay.” Jackie nodded. “Well we definitely need to get rid of this now. I think it’s safest to take this home with me and put it in the fireplace. I doubt this thing is flameproof.”

I’ll probably need to come with you then, JJ says. So it won’t disappear and return to me.

“I can keep a good eye on it,” Jackie promised.

JJ stared at him. You have to blink eventually.

“...Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Jackie muttered. “Alright. You can stop by my house sometime. When would be good?”

Marvin frowned. “Mam and Dad aren’t gonna let him go to a friend’s house while exams are getting so close.”

“You don’t have to tell them where you’re going,” Jackie said.

“Okay lemme say that a different way,” Marvin said. “They’re not gonna let him go anywhere that isn’t school soon. We were lucky that we could come here.”

JJ nodded. We said we were going to the library.

Schneep frowned. “I really do not like your parents.”

“Yeah that’s fricked up,” Chase added. “Uhhh... can you guys sneak out or something? Or, uh, get your grandma to take you somewhere? She seems nice.”

JJ and Marvin glanced at each other. “We’ll see what we can do,” Marvin said slowly. “Anyway. Uh, have you guys heard anything else about the greenlight shit?”

“Nope,” Stacy said.

“Which I find strange,” Schneep said. “We were hearing all sorts of rumors during the summer. But nothing now.” He leaned forward. “I think that the Circle is doing something.”

Chase sat up straight to attention. “Like what?”

“I am not sure exactly. But we know that these monsters come from the Fissures, yes? Or, if we believe Anti, they are coming from this ‘dark place’ that the Fissures lead to. And we know the Circle is keeping an eye on the Fissures and the... Anom...Anomalies.” He looked around. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s the right word, Schneep,” Jackie assured him. “So, you think that the Circle is... what, sealing up the Fissures?”

“If they could do that, they would’ve sealed up the one under the planetarium before Anti collapsed it,” Stacy pointed out.

“Yes, I agree,” Schneep said. “But they must be doing something. Ja?”

“That makes sense,” Marvin said. He growled. “Man, I wanna go right up to these Circles guys and give them a piece of my fucking mind.” He conjured up a little tower with his greenlight, glowing and translucent. Then he punched it and knocked it over, where it crashed into pieces upon hitting the table, then disappeared.

“You’re getting really good at that,” Chase said, impressed.

“We can’t just go confront the Circle,” Jackie said. “We don’t know what they’d do. We do have to find some way to take care of them, but—but we have to be sneaky about it!” He sighed. “Winter holiday is fast approaching. We’ll... start doing more then. We can think of stuff to try until then.”

JJ frowned. He stares at the doll sitting on the table, the doll that looked so much like him.

He didn’t want to wait until winter break. He wanted to take care of this now.

++++++++++++++++++++

Mrs. Karter was the Chemistry teacher, meaning her classroom was on the third floor with all the other science classrooms. JJ’s last class of the day, Physics, was also on that floor, so he decided to just head straight there. Well... not straight away. He wanted to give the students who had that class time to clear out. So he waited around as long as he felt he could, then headed down the hallway. He found the classroom easily enough, peeking inside the open door—

Not all of the students were gone. River Bailey was inside, talking with Mrs. Karter.

JJ froze.

A minute passed, then River turned away from Mrs. Karter and caught sight of JJ. “Oh hey!” He waved. “Jameson, huh? Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.”

JJ shook his head. No, it’s not like— He started to sign, then froze again, realizing that River probably wouldn’t understand.

River blinked slowly. “Oh yeah... you don’t talk. Sorry, I, uh, can’t understand that.”

After a split second hesitation—should he get his notebook out and try to talk for real?—JJ just smiled and nodded, trying to tell him that it was alright.

“Yeah. Sorry.” River looked slightly embarrassed. “Uh, well... do you have Chemistry? I’ve never seen you in my class.”

JJ shook his head.

“Oh. Man, I could’ve helped you with stuff. So what d’you need to talk to Mrs. Karter about?” River asked.

Mrs. Karter had noticed JJ as well. She was staring at him with a hard-to-read expression. Then, when River turned around to look at her, she smiled. “Mr. Jackson’s brother is in my class. He must be here to help him in some way.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” River smiled at JJ. “See you around then?”

JJ nodded. His face felt really hot.

“Kay. Bye!” River headed off. JJ watched him go, turning to follow him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Then he spun back around to face Mrs. Karter.

“Nervous?” she asked. “You look frozen with fear.”

He was pretty sure it wasn’t fear. But this wasn’t the time to address it. He took a deep breath and stepped farther into the classroom, putting his books down on a desk so he could sign. But then he remembered that Mrs. Karter didn’t speak sign, so he took out his notebook and wrote, What did you do to me?

Mrs. Karter blinked, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

With the doll!

“Doll?”

JJ looked around. He knew by now how the doll worked. All he needed was a compartment or something—there! He walked over to a closet in the back of the room and opened it. Sure enough, there it was, sitting on a shelf. He grabbed it and walked back over, putting the doll on the desk.

Mrs. Karter glanced down at it, still confused. “Huh?”

I got this doll for some award or something, JJ said.

“...Congratulations?”

JJ shook his head, biting back a frustrated growl. The Circle gave it to me, didn’t they?!

Mrs. Karter glanced around nervously. They were alone. There was no one else in the classroom, and no one in sight in the hallway. “If they did, I was not informed,” she said quietly. “And why would they give you some doll?”

Because it’s a weird magic doll! Ever since I got it, I have to do whatever people tell me to! And no matter where I leave it, it appears next to me again!

Mrs. Karter blinked. “Really...? Fascinating. What a strange Anomaly.” She poked the doll, then glanced at JJ, as if looking for his reaction. A strange curiosity came into her expression. “Jameson—”

JJ recognized that tone. She was about to tell him to do something! Quickly, he clapped his hands over his ears and ran out of the classroom without even bothering to pick up his books.

++++++++++++++++++++

“That... might not have been the best idea...” Jackie said slowly.

I guess I didn’t think it through, JJ said curtly.

“I didn’t expect that from you, JJ!” Chase laughed. “You’re like—smart and stuff.”

JJ stared at him without saying anything. Chase’s laughter slowly died. You and Schneep didn’t have to come, you know, he finally said.

“We thought it would be better this way,” Schneep explained. “In case something happened there would be more people to help.”

The boys were all gathered at Jackie’s house. His dad was at work, but he could be back soon, so Jackie had explained their visit away by saying the kids wanted to look at more Caverns and Creatures stuff. Which... wasn’t technically a lie. They did want to look at more C&C stuff. But they all agreed it wouldn’t be fair to do more without Stacy, who was busy today because her sister had a dance recital. “I don’t wanna see a doll burn anyway,” she’d said. “Just text me when it’s done.”

JJ nodded slowly. He turned back to Jackie. Can we just get this over with?

“Right.” While JJ and Marvin explained what happened with Mrs. Karter, Jackie had been busy stoking the fire. He poked the logs with a fireplace poker. “I think it’s hot enough.”

“It’s fire, of course it’s hot enough,” Marvin said. “But I guess the doll is magic so like I guess hotter is better just in case it’s more, like, durable than a normal doll. But I don’t think you can get that hot with a normal fireplace. I think you could cook over fireplaces in the olden times though so maybe you can? JJ what d’you think?”

JJ shrugged. He took the doll out of his bag and handed it over to Jackie. “Thanks,” Jackie said, and carefully balanced the doll on the fireplace poker, draping it across the metal so its legs and arms dangled. Then he slowly inched the doll towards the flames... and tossed it into the fireplace. It landed right in the center of the burning logs.

“Where do you get firewood, Jackie?” Chase asked curiously. “Does your dad go out into the woods to chop it?”

Jackie laughed. “No, you can just buy firewood at the store. Don’t you ever wonder what those stacks of—”

“JJ!” Schneep gasped.

JJ had suddenly fallen to his hands and knees. His skin was growing red, and he blinked tiredly as droplets of sweat fell into his eyes.

“What the hell?!” Jackie gasped.

Everyone’s attention snapped back to the fireplace. The doll had caught on fire, flames licking at its yarn hair and cloth hands. Marvin lunged forward, reaching out his hand. A length of green glowing light wrapped around the doll like a lasso. He grabbed onto this greenlight rope and pulled. The doll tumbled out of the fire and onto the stone hearth around the fireplace.

Chase took his hat off and tried to fan air towards the fiery doll. “No, air makes fire bigger!” Schneep shouted.

“It does?! But you blow out candles!”

“Wait here!” Jackie got up and ran into the kitchen. He was only gone for a minute, but in that time, JJ fell to the floor, gasping. Marvin knelt by his brother’s side, sparks of greenlight flickering around his hands as he tries to come up with something to do. Chase and Schneep looked around the room wildly, trying to figure out some way to help!

Then Jackie returned, dumping a bowl full of water onto the doll. It splashed wildly, some getting on Chase and Marvin, but the flames went out instantly. JJ gasped, rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling. “JJ! JJ!” Marvin shouted. When JJ didn’t respond, he got up in his face and began signing. J-twin! J-twin!

JJ took a deep breath. I’m fine, he signed slowly.

“Wh-what was that?” Chase stammered.

Schneep rushed over to JJ’s side. He presses two fingers to his neck, then put his hand an inch above JJ’s mouth—which JJ looked really confused about. “Y-your heartbeat and breathing is fine, but your skin is really hot,” Schneep said.

“I thought you guys tested if it would hurt him,” Chase said.

“We did!” Marvin said. “I guess our tests weren’t good enough. I mean... I guess we were too scared to try anything really bad. Like the, uh, fire.”

We should have at least stabbed the doll, JJ said, then sat up.

“Nooo!” Marvin said, looking like he was about to cry at the mere thought of stabbing the doll—and therefore, his brother.

Jackie picked up the doll. It dripped water onto the hearth. “Uh... guys? This is weird.” He showed the doll to the boys. It was... unburning itself. The damage was being... healed?

Marvin blinked. “What the fuck? I-its greenlight is spiking!”

That’s so weird,” Chase said.

“W-well at least the damage done by the fire will not continue to hurt JJ,” Schneep said.

JJ stood up. He glared at the doll, frustrated. Then stomped over and snatched it from Jackie’s hands, shoving it into his bag without caring about getting his other belongings wet.

“.. Okay, then,” Jackie said.

“What’re you so angry about, JJ?” Chase asked.

JJ glared at him.

“Dude, there’s a magic doll making him do what people say,” Marvin said. “And it can’t be destroyed. Shit sucks.”

“Uh... right.” Chase nodded slowly. “I-I would be angry, too, I guess.” But for some reason, he didn’t expect JJ to be angry.

“What do we do now?” Schneep asked worriedly.

“There has to be some way to get rid of it,” Jackie said, determined. “Marvin, can you drain its greenlight?”

“I think we already talked about that,” Marvin said. “I can’t. But...” He sighed. “Maybe I just need more practice? I wish I had more time to do cool magic shit with all these exams and holiday stuff. But I’ll do everything I can, JJ!” He held out his hand to JJ. He took it, and Marvin squeezed his hand tightly. “Everything!”

“Yes, we will do everything too!” Schneep agreed.

“We’ll find out more,” Jackie said. “Maybe if we can find Anti or more Circle stuff—”

And then his phone started to ring in his pocket.

“Damn it,” Jackie whispered. He took the phone out and answered the call. “Yeah? Oh! Really? No, I’m not busy. What is it? Yeah, I remember. I’ll give it to you after class tomorrow. Hey, I’m a man of my word! You know me! Well it won’t take long to say over the phone.” He paused. “Sounds good. What is it?” Another pause. He nodded. “Thank you so much, Celine. We’ll meet up at the front entrance after class.” Then he hung up.

What was that about? JJ asked.

“My friend Celine.” Jackie grinned. “She found Jack’s address. It’s 5 Windscape Lane in Miryburgh, Ireland. She’s gonna write it down for me and hand it to me tomorrow, too.”

“Oh shoot!” Chase took his own pocket out of his phone. “We gotta call Stacy!”

“What do we do with this address now that we have it?” Schneep asked. “Do we mail him?”

“No, he could ignore a letter,” Jackie said. “We have to find some reason to go over there and talk to him. All of us. Maybe—after Christmas? While we’re still on holiday?”

“Sounds great!” Chase said excitedly.

In fact, he was so excited, that he didn’t notice the way JJ’s shoulders slumped. But Schneep did. He looked over at him. “Is everything alright, Jameson?” he asked.

JJ nodded.

“...okay,” Schneep said quietly. “Let us know what we can do, ja?”

We can get rid of the stupid doll, JJ said.

“That’s... going to be difficult,” Jackie said slowly. “We clearly can’t destroy it, and it might just keep teleporting to you if we, like, bury it or something. I think the best thing we can do is have Marvin practice on taking out the greenlight. If we’re really sure it won’t work, then we start trying things desperately.”

JJ nodded slowly. I guess we just... go home now.

“Man. I don’t wanna go home.” Marvin sighed. “It’s all studying there all the time. But I guess we have to go home eventually. Ugh. Fucking exams.”

The more time passed, the more Chase felt exams looming over his head. When they got home, Mom insisted that he reviewed some of his notes. “You don’t have to do much, just read through them occasionally,” she said. Unfortunately, Chase often had no idea what his notes meant. He wrote down ‘color is banned’ and ‘you can’t say things how they feel’ in his English notes for a book they read that semester. How was he supposed to uncode that?

He was worried about JJ, too... but at least the doll situation wasn’t hurting him? And JJ seemed okay. A little frustrated. But okay.

It was probably fine. He could focus on school for a while.

++++++++++++++++++++

But focus soon became difficult. Because, only a couple days after they tried to destroy the doll, Chase and Schneep’s relatives started coming into town.

It started with their grandparents—Grandma and Grandpa Walker, Mom’s mom and dad. Chase was in his room, taking a break from reading notes to idly bounce a ball off a wall, when he heard the front door open downstairs. He paused, listening to the voices that followed, and the moment he realized he recognized them he shot out of bed and rushed down the hall. He knocked on Schneep’s door. “Schneep! Schneep Schneep Schneep Schneeeeeep!”

After only a little bit, Schneep opened the door. “What is—whoa!” Chase grabbed him by the hand and yanked him down the hall towards the stairs. “Chase! What is it?!”

“They’re here!” Chase only said in response. The boys ran down the stairs and stopped in the front hall.

“Chase! Henrik! Is that you? When did you both get so tall?” Grandma stepped past Mom and over to the boys. “Oh, you both are so grown up!”

“Grandma!” Chase let go of Schneep’s hand and flung his arms around Grandma. She smelled like vanilla—she always did, since she likes to wear perfume a lot.

“What, nothing for me?” Grandpa asked, still standing by the door.

Chase laughed and ran over to hug him, too. Grandpa always smelled like some sort of product. Dad had said it was “aftershave” and that he’d explain it to him when he was older. “I didn’t know you guys were coming so soon!”

“We wanted to be here in case your mom wanted help with anything,” Grandma explained. “And to check on you two, of course! It’s been a year since we’ve seen either of you, since you didn’t come to the reunion this year.”

Mom laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh... we were... busy.”

Both Grandma and Grandpa nodded, looking serious for a moment. Chase had never noticed it before, but Grandma really looked like an older version of Mom. She had the same build, face, and eyes, but everything was a bit softer. There were obvious differences, too. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun at the base of her neck, and she always wore a floral-pattern shirt. But if Mom put on a wig and makeup to look like wrinkles, they would be almost the same. Grandpa, on the other hand, looked quite different. He was short and round, his gray hair shaved shirt to bristles. Much like Grandma, he always wore the same type of outfit, his being striped collared shirts made of a smooth fabric. And his cane, of course. But if Chase squinted, he could see that Mom and Grandpa had the same eye color.

“Did you have any trouble with the flight or the city?” Mom asked.

“Oh none at all, Jessie,” Grandma said. “Slept like a pair of logs the whole time we were on the plane.”

“Though we did have to get used to the rental car,” Grandpa chuckled. “The steering wheel is on the wrong side!”

Chase laughed, then looked back and noticed Schneep hadn’t said much. He was standing in the same spot, looking at the gathering like he wasn’t part of it. “C’mon, Henrik, say hi to Grandma and Grandpa!” he encouraged, walking back over and taking Schneep’s hand for support.

“Ah... h-hello,” Schneep said quietly. “I-it is good to see you again.”

Grandma leaned over. “How are you, Henrik?” she asked.

“Good,” Schneep said. “I am good.”

“Hmm. We’ll be in town all the way until the 28th, if you ever need anything from your grandma and grandpa,” Grandma said.

“And we have something for you—both of you.” Grandpa reached into his pocket and. “We had to exchange everything in the airport, I hope that this is how much I think it is.” He shuffled over and held out some bills to the two of them, taken from his wallet.

“Oh wow, thanks!” Chase said, taking the twenty-pound note offered to him. This was the most money he’d ever had!

He glances to the side and saw Schneep’s eyes go wide as he also took a twenty-pound note. “What is it for?” he asked hesitantly, looking it over like he expected it to be fake.

“Can’t we just give gifts to our grandchildren?” Grandpa winked.

“You can think of it as an early Christmas present if you want,” Grandma added. “There’s more coming on the actual day, of course.”

Schneep nodded slowly. “Th-thank you.”

Mom smiles a bit, then looked at Grandma and Grandpa. “Where are you guys staying? There are two hotels in town, I could’ve—”

“Don’t worry about it, Jessie, Kathy helped us figure it all out,” Grandma said. “It’s a place called the Blue Blossom. It’s lovely.”

Mom nodded. She glances at Chase and Schneep. “Well... would you two like them to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, we’d hate to impose—” Grandma said.

“It’s fine, Mom. It’s your first night, it’s the least I can do. If the boys are okay with it.”

Chase was immediately excited, but before he answered, he looked at Schneep. “What do you think?” he asked.

“Ahm...” Schneep paused, thinking about it. Then he nodded. “Y-yes. F-for a little bit, that sounds great.”

“We’d love it, Mom!” Chase said, bouncing on his feet.

Mom smiled gently. “Alright. I’ll get started, you all settle down.”

Chase and Schneep spent the rest of the evening talking with their grandparents, telling them all about the past year—or, not all about it. They obviously didn’t say anything about the greenlight and monsters and stuff. But they talked about everything else, about school and games and making friends. And about Christmas, of course. Chase wondered how many relatives would be coming to the party. Would it be everyone, as usual?

Besides Grandma and Grandpa, the Christmas party usually included Mom’s brothers—Uncle Bob and Uncle Terry—and their wives—Aunt Kathy and Aunt Eva—and their kids, Chase’s cousins. Corinne and Madison were Bob and Kathy’s daughters, and they were both older than Chase, with Corinne being around Jackie’s age (but, in Chase’s opinion, far less cool) and Madison being a bit older. He thought that Madison was also getting married soon...? He never really paid attention to that stuff, but her boyfriend, Zeke, had come to the last two parties. People would usually get married after that, right? Then there were Terry and Eva’s kids—Bella and Jordan were a bit older and younger than Chase respectively, then there were Theo and Tommy who were much younger, and baby Paige, who had been tiny at the last party and in Aunt Eva’s belly at the one before that.

Man... laying it all out like that, Chase wondered if their house was big enough for all those people. Not to mention that his dad’s side of the family might be coming, too. The Brody family was a lot bigger than the Walker family; Chase wasn’t even sure he’d met all his relatives on that side. Their house would be packed.

Well... at least two people wouldn’t be coming for sure. He overheard Schneep talking with Mom one night. He didn’t mean to! But he had to go to the bathroom, and that was next to Mom’s room, and Schneep and Mom had been talking with the door open. He’d heard Schneep ask if it was alright if Aunt Maggie and Uncle Albrecht didn’t come.

“Of course it is, Henrik,” Mom assured him. “If you don’t want them there, I won’t invite them.”

“But... w-wouldn’t the rest of the f-family want to s-see them?” Schneep asked nervously.

“Honestly, Henrik? A lot of the family hasn’t been... well, your parents haven’t exactly been popular with everyone ever since you came to live with me and Chase. Besides, they didn’t hang around the party much, did they? I don’t think people would really miss them.”

“...if... it is okay...” Schneep whispered. He continued to talk some more after that, but he got quieter, so Chase couldn’t hear. Not that he wanted to. He was done anyway so he hurried back downstairs to play some video games.

Ah, thinking of Schneep brought Chase back to the present as he realized that he’d been quiet for a while. Schneep was sitting at the end of the dinner table, next to Chase, looking down at his plate as he ate. Chase looked over at him, catching his eye, and smiled.

Schneep relaxed a little and smiled back.

++++++++++++++++++++

Finally. Finally. Exams were over! They were done, finished, in the past! The moment Chase finished his last essay, only a few minutes before the time limit, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He always thought that the exams themselves weren’t as hard as the weeks leading up to them... but that didn’t mean he liked sitting at his desk all school day and getting pencil smudges all over his hands as he scrambled to remember every fact and skill he’d been taught.

Once the school day ended, Chase hurried down to the ground floor of the school. They’d all agreed to meet at the front entrance after exams were done. Schneep and Stacy were already there, hanging out in the small entrance hall. Kids were constantly leaving the school, gusts of cold air coming in through the doors as they all chattered excitedly about what they’ll do during the holiday. “Chase!” Schneep waved, hopping up and down to try and get his attention over all the taller students passing by.

“Hey!” Chase hurried over. “So did you guys get done early, then?”

“Mm-hmm.” Stacy nodded. “Y’know I hear that they’re gonna change the policy about letting kids leave early if they finish early.”

“Really? Booo.” Chase frowned. “Why would they do that?”

“I think ‘cause they think kids will hurry through so they can leave. And not, like, actually do their best.”

“Well that’s a sucky idea!” Chase said. “What if someone finishes their test early, and then since they’re stuck in the classroom, they help the kid next to them cheat?”

“Who would do that?” Schneep asked.

“Uhhh... well I would! If I ever... finished early.”

After a minute, JJ and Marvin appeared, coming down from the nearby staircase and weaving through groups of kids towards Chase and the others. “Hey,” Chase said. “Soooo. How’d it go?”

“Uh... fine,” Marvin said. “I really hate sitting in classrooms, but at least it’s quiet during exams. That way I can concentrate a little bit better.” He jerked his head towards JJ. “JJ finished early but he waited outside my class.”

“I was wondering why you weren’t here,” Stacy said to JJ. “I should’ve guessed that you would’ve done that, but I didn’t know it was allowed.”

It’s not... if you get caught, JJ said.

The others laugh. “I should have waited by your classroom, Chase,” Schneep said.

“Nah, we agreed to meet down here, you didn’t have to,” Chase said. “Well anyway. Now we just gotta wait for—”

“Oh heyyyy! Chase Brody and Stacy!”

Chase stiffened. He saw Stacy do the same. They both turned to the side, and saw her. Heather Westing and her two sidekicks with the curly hair and black braided hair. They hadn’t seen much of her in the past month. Well, they’d seen her, just in the halls and other classes and stuff, but she hadn’t bothered them. Maybe Heather was also busy studying for exams. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to approach the group since Marvin told her to “fuck off” last time she talked. Either way, it seemed she was ready to talk to them again.

Schneep sighed. “Just ignore her,” he whispered.

“Hey Stacy!” Heather said, grinning as she and her sidekicks approached. “What’re you going to do for Christmas break?”

“I dunno,” Stacy said, not looking directly at her.

“Your birthday is coming up soon too, right? Maybe your parents can get you glasses that aren’t tacky!”

Stacy reached up and self-consciously touched the corner of her pink glasses.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Chase said defensively.

Heather gasped. “Oh my god, Chase Brody, you really do have a crush on her!”

“What?!” Chase gasped. “N-no I don’t!”

“Oh so you’re saying that you wouldn’t ever get a crush on a girl like her, then?”

“That’s not what I—”

Heather gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, are you saying that you’d never have a crush on any girl?” She laughed. Her sidekick with the braided hair laughed too, but Curly Hair hesitated for a moment before joining in. “I can’t believe that you’re so—”

Smack! A notebook hit Heather in the face, causing her head to snap back. Her sidekicks cried out in shock. Even Chase blinked in surprise. He looked back and saw JJ, breathing heavily, standing there with his arm extended. Stacy and Schneep looked as shocked as Heather’s sidekicks did. Even Marvin was surprised.

“I-I-I—” Heather’s mouth opened and closed as she stammered. “I-I’m going to tell my aunt you did that! She’ll arrest you!” Then she turned and ran, her sidekicks coming with her. Some other students nearby stared, having seen the whole thing. They stared at JJ with wide eyes, but slowly moved on.

“Holy shit, JJ,” Marvin said. “You didn’t have to throw something at her.”

JJ lowered his arm. He took a deep breath, then grabbed his notebook from the ground and put it back in his bag. She sucks, he said shortly.

“Well... yeah.” Marvin agreed. “But like... y’know. You okay?”

JJ nodded.

“That was too far,” Stacy muttered.

“What did she mean, her aunt would arrest us?” Schneep asked.

“Her aunt’s the mayor,” Stacy explained.

Chase blinked. “Wait really?”

“Yeah. Why d’you think she keeps getting people to hang out with her? And feels like she can just... say stuff like that?” Stacy went quiet, her expression strangely thoughtful. “You kinda just like... get used to her being like that... but it’s not like... normal.”

A moment passed. Chase cleared his throat. “I didn’t know your birthday was coming up.”

“Yeah, it’s on the third.”

We should get you gifts! JJ said, quickly moving on from what just happened. Are you having a party?

Stacy laughed. “I dunno. Last year, when I turned twelve, we had this biiiig party where all my family showed up, it kinda tired me out.” Her smile faded a bit. “Besides, I, uh... I dunno what we’d do. A few months ago, Heather suggested that we all go see this movie that came out in November for my birthday, but I hadn’t read the book it was based on yet, and my parents wouldn’t let me check it out from the library cause they said it was too grown-up, so that uh... kinda led to everything that happened.”

“What book was it?” Marvin asked.

Stacy narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re gonna laugh. I’ve heard all the boys laughing about it.”

“No, I won’t laugh.”

Schneep nodded. “You are our friend, we will not laugh.”

“Well...” Stacy shifted on her feet. “Have you guys heard of Twilight?”

The four guys all shook their heads in unison. Then JJ said, Oh, actually I’ve seen that on a lot of displays in the library. It’s the ‘hands holding an apple’ book.

“I guess that makes sense that none of you would know. You guys don’t really read that stuff mostly.” Stacy paused. “It’s... about this girl who falls in love with a vampire—”

“A vampire?!” Chase gasped. “Oh that sounds so cool!”

Stacy laughed. “Right?! Heather was always talking about how great the romance is, and I was always like ‘the vampire part sounds so much cooler!’ The movie came out in November and it looks pretty cool...”

They stood by the doorway, chatting for a couple more minutes, until the older kids started coming out of their classrooms. Their exams went a bit longer than the younger years’ did. Soon, Jackie found them. “Standing right by the doors? You know it’s cold this close. Just get, like, a couple meters away. Lean by that wall anywhere.”

“Jackie!” Chase said excitedly. “Hey!”

Jackie laughed. “Hey, little man. You guys were talking about vampires?”

Stacy nodded. “I, uh... was talking about how I wanted to see the Twilight movie.”

“Oh cool. My friend Mincy saw that a couple weeks ago. She’s a big fan of the books, and said it was pretty good.” Jackie grinned. “But like... it’s probably not for everyone. I don’t think most of you would like it.”

“Vampires are cool,” Chase said.

“Yeah, uh... I’ve been told the vampires aren’t the main focus, surprisingly.” Jackie shrugged. “Anyway. How have you all been? Did you do good on your exams?”

The group started to walk out of the building, talking about their exams. Stacy was sure she did good enough, Schneep and JJ were confident in their results, Chase said he did okay, and Marvin said he probably did okay. “What about you?” Marvin asked.

“Eh... good enough, probably,” Jackie said. “I’m not sure I did that great with the science stuff. But everything else was kinda easy. Now.” The group was outside now. It was cold, but there were less people around to listen. Jackie glanced around and asked, “What are our plans for winter holiday?”

“Well... we’re gonna be busy with our family Christmas party.” Chase gestured at himself and Schneep. “But we can try and listen around for more weird stuff in the meantime.”

“Family party, huh?” Jackie nodded. “When? My family’s party is Christmas Day evening.”

“Ours is Christmas Eve,” Chase said. He looked at Stacy and the twins. “What about you guys? Do you have plans?”

Stacy shook her head. Marvin and JJ glanced at each other, then looked back and shrugged. “Probably some stuff on Christmas Day,” Marvin said. “With like... opening presents and church stuff.”

“How about we take the next week or so to do Christmas stuff and listen for any weirdness?” Jackie asked. “And then, sometime during the week before New Year’s... we somehow convince all our families to let us go to Ireland to find Jack McLoughlin?”

JJ frowned. Do we HAVE to wait that long to do stuff?

“Well I mean... we don’t have to,” Jackie said. “But I don’t think any of us will be able to get away from our families easily during the season. It’s only a few days, really.”

“Yeah, I never realized how close school went to Christmas,” Chase said. “Why did we even come to school today? We could’ve done all this on Friday instead of coming back for one Monday and then leaving.”

“School’s weird.” Marvin shrugged. “It’ll be okay, JJ. We need time to figure out what to say to Mam and Dad anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t worry!” Chase added.

JJ’s expression suddenly brightened.

“O-or worry as much as you like!” Schneep quickly added. He looked at Chase. “The doll, remember?”

“Huh? That counted?”

Apparently it did, because the brightness was suddenly wiped from JJ’s face as the worry returned. He took a deep breath and pushed it back in a more natural manner. I suppose we did bring up waiting until after Christmas in the first place.

“I really hope your friend is right about Jack’s address,” Stacy said.

“Jack?”

That voice!

All of them spun around. They saw a shadow hiding in one of the windows. A shadow that resolved into a familiar face. Anti, staring at them from inside one of the classrooms. He looked... paler than usual. And then he disappeared.

“...he heard us,” Schneep said.

“Uh, well... w-we don’t know if that’s a bad thing,” Chase said. “We don’t... know what he really... thinks about Jack. Honestly, we don’t even really know if Jack is involved or if him looking like Anti is just a really weird coincidence.”

The group stared at the window silently for a moment. Then there was a honk! sound and they turned around again. Marvin groaned. “That’s Dad. He’s waiting for us.”

“Come on, Jameson!” Mr. Jackson shouted.

JJ stiffened and started walking over. He looked alarmed for a moment as his legs started moving, then he turned back to sign to the others as he was forced to walk. Talk to you later!

“See you!” Marvin added, hurrying over.

“See you!” Chase waved, and so did the others.

“Aunt Jess is probably also waiting for us,” Schneep said.

“Yeah, and my parents, too,” Stacy said. “I can’t keep them for too long cause we have to pick up my sister after this. Bye, guys. See you later.”

“We’ll talk later,” Jackie said.

The group hurriedly dispersed. After seeing JJ just suddenly walk away, Chase could understand why JJ was so anxious to solve the doll problem. Why he didn’t want to wait until after Christmas.

But... it was probably fine, right? Nothing bad would happen in the next few days. They could enjoy the holidays, and then get down to business.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #brigid writes fanfiction #pnptau

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littlekatleaf · 1 year ago

Text

Roll here in my ashes anyway

Needed a little soft, holiday story for the Junkerboys. It's almost Christmas, I must be feeling melancholy.

I wouldn’t know where to start Sweet music playing in the dark Be still, my foolish heart Don’t ruin this on me. ~ Hozier, Almost Sweet Music

Junkrat leans closer to the paper, rubs his eyes, but the tiny print refuses to come into focus. Damn chicken-scratch writing, hand can never keep up with his thoughts. Roadie’s voice echoes in his memory, “Gonna need glasses before you’re thirty if you keep squinting like that.” Bloke’s got a point, as always. He sighs and sits back, giving in to his aching body. When he looks up reason everything’s gone vague and blurry is abruptly clear - light’s changed. Fat clouds’d been lining the horizon now blanket the sky, winter sun too anemic to dent them.

He glances back down at the launcher, still in pieces, screws and metal bits scattered over the workbench. Not as far as he’d like to be - Chrissie’s coming on soon. Gotta have Roadie’s prezzie ready. It’s close, but detonation speed needs tweaking - don’t want anyone else losing a limb. He scribbles down a last thought then rolls it all up, plans and gun together, and shoves them in the very back of his desk, behind old comics and skin mags, shit Roadie’d not be caught dead reading. He straightens, stretches, spine pops. Stomach rumbling too. How long’s he been at this anyway? Hungry enough likely missed lunch. Maybe dinner too?

As he crosses the threshold between work room and shared living space, he notices a tray on the coffee table. Coffee gone stone cold, same with the eggs and toast. He sticks a forkful in his mouth anyway. Can’t let it go to waste. Breakfast food. Apparently worked all night. Explains a good portion of the headache throbbing in his skull, the leaden ache of his joints getting in on the complaints. Less so the congestion and vague sense he’s gonna need to sneeze. Rubs his nose. Ignores it.

“Oi, Roadie,” he calls. No answer. He frowns. Hog hadn’t mentioned anything, had he? Wouldn’t go on a mission without him. Wouldn’t go hang with Hana or Lúcio, sick as he’s been. Might’ve been trying to downplay it, pass it off as a lingering cold, but Rat noticed. Felt the fever heat at night, heard the crackle in his lungs when he coughed, the edge of a wheeze in his deeper breaths. Bloke’d been sick for a while and didn’t seem to be improving.

Lack of caffeine’s making his thoughts feel slow, his head full of sludge. Must be why he can’t seem to figure where Roadhog might have gone. He’s still trying to puzzle it when there’s a mechanical click and the door whirs and slides open, revealing Roadie, looking somewhat abashed, with Mercy right behind in Avenging Angel mode. Sheila might be a good couple meters shorter than the Hog, and several stone lighter, but way she looks right now, Rat reckons she can take both of them, not even break a sweat, and is more than ready to do so.

“As Mr. Rutledge seems to be incapable of following the simplest of instructions, I appeal to your better judgment, Jamison.” Her tone is clipped, precise. She steers Roadie into the room with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Rat steps back, out of her way, and grins. “Breaking out the surname and suggesting I have anything approximating good judgment? What the bloody hell’d he do?”

“I explicitly told him to return to his quarters to rest. Under no circumstances was he to exert himself in any way until he completes his treatment. Not even ten minutes later, where do I find him?”

Junkrat shrugs. “Not here.”

“Indeed not. He was outdoors. Working in the garden. With neither jacket nor hat.”

Junkrat shakes his head at Roadhog, struggling not to laugh. Least it’s someone else getting the dressing down for a change. “How very dare you.”

“Just taking care of a couple of things,” Hog protests. “Not a big deal.”

“This is not a joke.” Mercy directs a glare at Junkrat before turning back to Roadhog. She sighs, deeply. “I am not coddling you or some such foolishness,” she says. “I’m trying to save you from yourself. While the infection is relatively mild at the moment, if you don’t take care it will worsen. I would not have you risk the lung function you still have, Mako.”

Roadie ducks his head, rubs the back of his neck, looking for all the world like a child being chastised. “Yes, ma’am,” he says.

“Take all of the antibiotics. Use the inhaler.” She shoves them into his hand and pivots to leave. “And don’t call me ma’am,” she adds, over her shoulder. “Doctor, if you must.” The door whirs open and closed behind her.

Junkrat blows out a breath. “Ain’t like no doctor I ever met.” Not like he’s met many; ‘doctors’ in Junkertown more like glorified butchers, but still. He raises a brow at Roadhog. “Sheila’s got a point. You look like shit. The fuck you doing out there? Gonna snow any minute and I can feel the fever radiating off you from here.”

“Don’t start with me, Rat,” Roadhog grumbles. “I’m fine. Just need to put the last of the garden to bed before the weather shifts. Been meaning to take care of it for days. Thought I’d be better by now.” He tosses the bottle of meds toward the coffee table and misses. It hits the floor with a rattle.

Junkrat moves to pick it up but is stopped by Roadhog’s glare. He holds up his hands in mock surrender and backs off. Knows better than to push straight on when he’s like this. Situation needs a little more… subtlety.

Roadhog leans down to retrieve the bottle, and immediately lapses into a fit of jagged coughing. It drags on, impressively long until finally dwindling away, stealing most of his voice with it. “Fucking hell,” he rasps, breathless. Least it’s enough that he takes a hit from the inhaler without Rat needing to say anything. Probably better he doesn’t. Bloke’s emanating as much pissed off energy as fever.

Instead Junkrat drops a bag of Lúcio’s medicinal tea into a Pachimari shaped mug and fills it at the instant hot tap. He adds a dollop of honey, enough to soothe Roadie’s throat, but woefully small to Rat’s own eyes. Somehow Hoggie lacks a reasonable appreciation for the sweeter things in life. The rising steam smells of cinnamon and clove, comforting as Lù himself.

Roadhog’s retreated to the couch, resignation clear in the set of his shoulders. He’s taken off his boots. “Ta,” he says, voice glass on gravel, when Rat holds out the peace offering. Makes Rat’s own throat ache to hear. “Doc’s right. I was acting like a bloody idiot. Garden’s gonna be what it is. Not the end of the world.”

“Already been through that once.” Junkrat floats the admittedly sad attempt at a joke. Testing. Predictably no response. Junkrat frowns, then nods. “Ain’t a lotta people smarter than the doc.”

“Just wish I’d gotten the roses wrapped.” Aims the words into his mug and Rat barely catches them. Roadie picks up a novel and disappears behind it. Over his shoulder the trees bend and creak in the wind. A few leaves that had been clinging to the branches tug free and scatter. Above it all the clouds hang, milk white and heavy with snow.

A shiver wants to creep down Junkrat’s spine but he manages to suppress it. Hoggie’s roses ain’t just any flower. Ain’t replaceable. Little bit of home, here in this place that isn’t theirs. Nothing for it; Rat knows what he has to do.

The wind cuts straight through his jacket before the door even slides closed behind him. He grits his teeth against the chattering, squares his shoulders and heads into the garden. Watched Roadie enough times, shouldn’t have a problem. Starts with the roses. Makes sure they’re trimmed and wrapped proper. Gonna keep the roses safe. The memories safe. He’s sniffling before he gets the first one finished, nose threatening to run. Guess he knows what Jack Frost nipping at your nose feels like. Least raking warms him enough that he opens the jacket even as the first flakes of snow drift down.

By the time he’s done, everything set and settled down to the last twig, the world’s gone dim and silent with snowfall. It’s a lonely peaceful feel, the gathering dark, the swirling flakes, the way the air is sharp but the world is blurred. He sniffs, sleeves his nose, but makes no move to go inside.

“There you are. Been wondering where you’d got to,” Roadie says.

Junkrat startles. “Gonna kill Hanzo for givin’ you the ninja lessons.”

This time Roadhog huffs the particular laugh means he’s torn between amusement and not wanting to encourage Rat.

Junkrat wraps his arms around himself and sleeves his nose. Still itching, but knows if he starts sneezing Roadie’ll make him go inside and he’s not ready yet. Luckily Roadhog’s smart enough to have put on more appropriate winter gear. “See ya ain’t risking Mercy’s wrath.”

Feels Roadie smile behind the mask. “Nah. Once is more than enough.” He pauses and the snow drifts down, dusting their shoulders. “Thank you for this, Jamie.” Roughness of his voice now got nothing to do with being sick.

Junkrat looks up at him, puzzled. “Well ‘course, mate. Couldn’t exactly let them die, could I?”

“You could.” Roadhog says, still facing the garden. “Did a good job, Rat.” He puts an arm around Junkrat.

Rat leans into the warmth, then curls forward with a harsh sneeze, hastily muffled in his scarf. Another follows, and a third. “Shit. Jig’s up.”

This time Roadie actually laughs. “Bless you. Better get back inside before Mercy hears you sneezing.”

Later, even in a pair of Roadie’s pjs and wrapped in several of their blankets, Junkrat still shivers. “F-fuckin’ freezin’. Ain’t never gonna be warm again. Barely more’n a corpse. Heat of life already left my bones…” Plays up the whinge, because he can, and muffles a round of sneezing in the blankets.

Roadhog reaches over, palms his forehead, but gently. “Definitely has not. And don’t be disgusting.” He tosses a box of tissues at Junkrat who can’t free his hands quick enough to catch it. It bounces off his chest.

“This the way you show your appreciation? Some caretaker you are.” Tugs free a handful just in time to catch another, in triplicate. “Fucking hell.”

“Nah. This is the way I show my appreciation.” Hog shifts so Rat can lean against him and begins to knead the tension from his shoulders. Rat sighs as the aching fades, the shivering stills. Feels himself begin to thaw, to drift. As he slides into sleep, he catches the scent of roses, the heat of the sun warming him through. Not the wan halfhearted thing here, but the encompassing burn of Australian summer. Maybe someday they’d go home. Least they had a piece, even if it slept in the winter dark.

#snezfic #look i managed a shortfic #oversnez

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enchantress-of-words · 2 years ago

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FFF183 - Late Night Train

@flashfictionfridayofficial

(Cossack's Bane, University AU - nevermind i haven't even started the normal WIP yet, lol. This is Ksenia's and Marichka's first meeting.)

Ksenia stuffs her hands into the coat's pockets. She's making her way through the wagon. Her lower face is hidden behind the thick woolen scarf, knitted by her mother; it hides a part of her scar, making people less intent on staring at her. She still keeps her eyes on the floor.

Right. She needs to find her seat.

The weather outside is... snowy. It's probably first snow this winter Ksenia intends to fully enjoy, stepping right into the few weeks of winter holidays; she exhales, remembering a few smaller gifts she picked for her siblings, and bites her lips in annayance, remembering she still has to find some for her parents.

Ksenia shakes her head. Her sit is almost there.

She casts a quick glance on the person sitting across her. It's a girl, twenty years at most; she hasn't noticed Ksenia yet. She's staring through the window, fingers tapping the glass obnoxiously.

Ksenia realizes she still hasn't taken her sit yet, and places her bags down. The girl's eyes jolt up, inevitably fixing on Ksenia's face. She resist an urge to roll her eyes.

Ignoring the girl, she takes her phone and starts scrolling.

There are a few messages from the family group. Petro sent a photo of his cat, and a video of his son chasing said cat immediately after. Ksenia remembers Petro with his wife and son will come over for holidays too. Dammit. She adds three more gifts to the list.

(Does she have to find a gift for Petro, though? He's older than her. He's got life, job, and family figured out already. He's the one who has to shower Ksenia in gifts, really.)

She textes a quick "boarded already" in response to her father's message, and takes a photo of sight from the window. It's starting to get dark already, snowflakes dancing in the streetlamps' light.

The train slowly takes off.

There really isn't much else to check. Fesko sent her at least ten messages with screenshots from class' groupchat, each followed by a meme or sarcastic comment that would surely get him harassed by their peers should they ever get leaked.

Ksenia think that's really why they clicked so good. Ksenia never cares about those comments enough to get them leaked, and Fesko would definitely help her hide a body. Fesko's just cool like that.

The girl's still tapping on the window. Her other hand is brought to her lips, eyes staring at the table between them, eyebrows raised; she's either thinking of the tons of unfinished assignments or the fact that someone probably stole her chicken soup from the fridge. You never know.

Ksenia puts her phone back in the pocket and turns her face to the window. They are leaving the city; the buildings become gradually smaller. The snowflakes race behind the train, struggling to keep up.

The girl is the first to break the silence. Unfortunately.

"So, where are you headed to?"

And it's such a banal question, too. Ksenia cuddles into her coat.

"Kovel'", she says. The girl perks up. "You?"

"Liubomyl'", she says, a grin on her face. "I always wanted to move to Kovel', though. Heard it has more opportunities."

Ksenia shrugs. "Bigger cities tend to. Are you... visiting for holidays?"

"That's a one way to put it," the girl laughs. She has two thick long black braids. "Mom's gotten sick, so I'm not sure how much of a holiday it'll be."

Ksenia hums. She's not sure how to show that she's not interested in conversation.

"My name's Mariia, by the way," the girl says, extending her hand through the table. Ksenia unwillingly shakes it. "Most people call me Marichka, though. It suits me best."

"I'm Ksenia."

"Nice to meet you. So- you're a student, too?"

Ksenia tilts her head to the side. There's no escaping small talk, is it?

"Yeah. Third year, economy."

"Oh! I'm second year. History."

"Oh," Ksenia raises her eyebrows. "That's cool."

Marichka smiles. "I know. Hard, but cool."

They fall into silence, occasionally interrupted by few words here and there. Marichka has younger brother and sister, Ksenia learns. Her brother won't be coming home: he'll spend his holidays in Kyiv. It's his first time alone, and Marichka is dead worried about him.

She learns Marichka has picked a fight with half of her campus, at least. That's something Ksenia can relate to.

The train is quiet. Ksenia shows Marichka a photo of her brother's cat. It seems polite.

Marichka laughs a lot, almost always at her own jokes. Her eyes almost always skitter back to Ksenia, flashing with something like fear. Marichka tells her about her younger sister, Melanka. How she likes pretty dolls and horses.

She doesn't talk about her parents, for some reason, and Ksenia doesn't pry. She tells her about Fesko instead. She has a feeling Marichka and Fesko would come along smoothly.

Marichka knows a lot about history and traditions. She perks up talking about them. Her favourite period is the 20th century: she knows hella lot about revolutions, different organizations, cultural activists.

She loves cossacks. Ksenia resonates with that. Cossacks are interesting.

(Marichka doesn't ask about her scar. Ksenia is puzzled, but really doesn't mind.)

The train is quiet. Wheels calmly rattle on the rails. The snow is falling outside the window.

Kovel' is closer and closer.

Marichka falls asleep.

Ksenia's stop is much earlier than hers. She sighs and leaves her number on a piece of paper.

The streets are quiet. The snow glimmers in the light of streetlights.

Ksenia smiles and heads to the bus stop.

#writeblr #flash fiction friday #original writing #wip: cossack's bane #oc: marichka sokil #oc: ksenia mnets

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sl33paholics · 2 years ago

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I Will Always Be With You

Warning(s): Racism, Homophobia, trauma, abuse

This will be written from Muhammad's perspective, first person POV

ābnatī = my son

yā ilahiyya = My goodness

I remember being eight years old walking through my neighborhood carrying two heavy bags of vegetables and fruit from the nearest shop, making glances at the nearby people who were minding their business. Sometimes, once in a while, one of the old folks would help me on my way home, kissing their cheek in return as a sign of respect and being grateful.

Once arriving at the front entrance, I saw two trucks in front of the house. Seeing men carrying box after box in and out of both of them, I saw my father standing there talking to one of the men. "Baba? What's going on??" I spoke loud enough for him to face my direction. "Oh, ābnatī, welcome back home. Go inside the house, and your mother will explain more." He responded, going back to having his conversation with the man.

Upon entering in, making small grunts, and tightening my grip on the bags, my mother was cleaning up the living room. "Mama?" She looked in my direction, putting down the wet cloth, and walked toward me. "Muhammad! You're back from the market. Give me those." Handing over the two bags I stood there, to her surprise, I didn't follow my mother.

"Hm? What's up with you, boy?"

"...why are there trucks outside?"

"Your father didn't tell you?" I shook my head hearing her mutter yā ilahiyya under her breath as she sat the bags down on the now clear shiny pine table. "Your father and I decided to move to France, Muhammad. We thought it would be better for us to start fresh," my mother explained. Hearing this inflicted my heart to drop and my hands to tremble, I'm not sure if it was because of uncertainty or unhappiness.

My mom noticed my distress, so she went closer to me, embracing me tightly. "It'll be okay, Muhammad. Your father is very experienced and he promised that he would take care of everything until we could come home, right? It won't be so bad, Muhammad."

She reassured me. I nodded in response, but I still felt like something was off.

The next few days passed by quietly, I didn't do much besides go to school. I didn't even bother going home at times, knowing that we would soon move away to another country.

______________________________________

It has been 9 years since the move, the weather in France was always cold, and winter would arrive in late February. The sun shone brightly during our first day in France; I found myself adoring the glamour of the city as we drove to our new home. It was strange how different the French language sounded. They pronounced most words very differently, like pronouncing a word backward instead of forwards.

Upon arriving at the new house, I refused to get out of the car. I wanted to return to Egypt, missing the hot weather while carrying heavy loads to my house singing along with my friends, taking care of the fat chickens in the backyard, and overall enjoying the view of the sky setting. Finally getting the courage to get out of the vehicle, I heard some noises coming from the other side of the street and turned to see what it was. There were four men carrying boxes into the house. They stopped when they saw me looking their way and began speaking in my direction. In French, which I didn't understand.

"Vous êtes un étranger ici, vous ne devriez pas être dans notre quartier." You are a foreigner here. You shouldn't be in our neighborhood. One of the men sneered at me, glaring at me. His eyes were filled with disgust, making me feel worried, which made me lower my gaze to the ground.

"What happened, Muhammad?" My mother asked in concern, noticing the uneasiness I was feeling.

"Nothing, just... just leave it, Mama," I mumbled, walking past her.

_____________________________________

After all these years, I had grown used to the stares, the gleams, the slurs, and the jeers. I couldn't bear to look people in the eyes anymore. But, I couldn't forget that one person who made me change my mindset about the people around me.

By now, my French had improved. We were in high school, and he always wore a brown blouson jacket and black jeans with matching shoes. He always looked the same, same personality, the same man.

His name was Jean, one of my first friends when I moved here. I don't know why, but he felt like he was close to me, like I was a part of his family. We became inseparable after that. He took care of me in every way. Even before we started dating, he knew exactly how to comfort me, how to cheer me up whenever I got hurt. And he wasn't ashamed to admit it. He was proud of me. I guess he loved to show everyone how strong he was and how important I was to him, platonically.

But, things got too far.

We were close, very close, Jean kissed me. Kissed me passionately as if I were everything he needed in life. At that moment, I realized what kind of effect this boy had on me. I realized how easily my heart throbbed every time he touched me, how satisfied it was to spend every second with him, how my blood boiled when he talked to me. And I realized I liked it.

He confessed to me then.

He told me he loved me.

And I told him I loved him back.

So, yes, he had changed my outlook on life. He was like a drug, I'd never find myself without him. That was what attracted me to him in the first place; Jean was my drug. And I was addicted.

When I got home in the evening, my father was standing in the living room with a belt in his hand. He had an angry scowl written across his lips, I never took my sight off him as I slowly closed the door behind me and rested my bag on the floor. "Father?" I called out to him, unsure why he was mad at me.

He raised his gaze and glared at me. "What have you done, Muhammad?" He spoke in a quiet voice.

I bit my lip nervously. "...what did I do?"

"Why do you think I'm upset?" I remained silent. "Do you want me to put this on your bedroom wall?" I gulped at his words.

"No-"

"Then you better start talking." I was taken aback by his tone. This wasn't my father. This wasn't the man who taught me French phrases and helped me study for the exams when I couldn't understand anything.

Even for my age at the time, 17 years old, that was the one time I couldn't speak up. I couldn't tell the truth. Lying was a sin. I'd never lie to my father, no matter what. So, what choice did I have?

"I was...with..." My throat tightened as I tried to continue speaking. "Jean."

Silence. I knew the answer. It wasn't supposed to end like that. If only I wasn't such a coward... but I was. I was afraid. "You were supposed to come home right after school. It's been 4 hours."

I lowered my gaze. "I was...trying to catch a bus," I whispered. My father was holding the belt tighter.

"Liar." He uttered with hostility. My heart fell deeper into my stomach. Tears formed behind my eyes. That's when he slapped me so hard I fell on the floor. The pain was irresistible. My head was throbbing, I was inhaling quickly. "How dare you? How fucking dare you? My only son, I can't believe it! I should've known that would happen when you began hanging out so much." The pain in my jaw caused tears to flow down my cheeks. "You? You! A shāth?! Kissing another man like that?"

I shook my head no. "Not like that!"

"Not like that?! Do you hear yourself?!"

I shut my mouth and looked away.

"You think it's alright for you to kiss another man? Huh?!"

I continued shaking my head no. "I'm so sorry. I'm s-"

Smack! I felt the wrath of the belt hit my skin over and over and over again. "You're a disgrace! A waste of oxygen. How could you?!" I covered my face with my hands, sobbing as I felt the pain spreading throughout my body, causing me to curl up in the fetal position wailing.

That's when my mom came rushing into the room using all of her strength to pull my father back away from me, trying to prevent him from hurting me any further. Seeing my parents fighting, I began crying harder, I never wept, I couldn't recall the last time I did. It was like someone pulled the strings of my heart, pulling them tight, cutting me off from everything and everyone, including my thoughts. Everything seemed unreal, as if I was watching a movie.

My parents separated after a few more hits, and my father left the house, leaving my mother in charge of me. She held me in her arms, wiping my tears away and consoling to me that everything was gonna be fine. She assured me that everything would turn out fine. I tried to stay optimistic, but how could I after such a beating? I didn't deserve anything like this. But then something else occurred to me, something that had been bothering me ever since I first found out about my mother's situation.

"Maman," I whispered in a trembling voice. Her face immediately lit up hearing the nickname she had never received from anyone in ages.

______________________________________

That same night, I somehow still had the strength to sneak out, still trying to control my breathing, I locked my room door and climbed out the window. I limped to Jean's house, and my surprise, he was still out there. He saw me from afar and ran towards me. "Honey?" He called out worriedly.

"What happened?"

He questioned me with tears forming in his eyes as he saw my condition. "Are you okay?"

I didn't say anything. All I could do was shake my head. He managed to get me inside of his house and lead me to his room, resting me on his bed. He grabbed a blanket and put it over my shaking frame, helping me to lie down and sitting beside me. He caressed my hair softly and kept me calm until I finally calmed down. I hugged him tightly, burying my head in the crook of his neck, crying my eyes out. "Shhh...." he said, kissing my forehead lovingly. "It's okay, sweetheart." I heard his voice tremble slightly as he stroked my hair, calming me down.

"I'm scared...father beat me, Jean, he found out about us.." His hold on me tightened, and he buried his head in my shoulder, hugging me even closer. I was thankful that he didn't say anything about it.

"He won't bother you anymore, baby girl. I promise I will protect you, always." His soothing voice gave me courage. "I don't want to go home. I don't know where...I should stay. I'm afraid he'll hurt you." I murmured. I just wanted to cry and scream. "Please don't leave, don't leave me," I begged him. My voice broke, tears flowing faster. "I don't wanna live like that."

"I love you. And I am not leaving you." His voice sounded hoarse, but I couldn't complain. "I will never let him touch you again. You are safe now. Just trust me, okay?" I nodded against his chest, my whole body shaking from fear and sadness.

"I love you." He repeated. "Always."

"I love you too."

#avdol #avdol x polnareff #stardust crusaders #anime #jjba stardust crusaders #avpol #jojo no kimyō na bōken #fluff #pillar men #yandere jojo #scenario #Au #angst #jjba part 3 #jojo bizarre adventure #muhammad avdol #jean pierre polnareff

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keikakudori · 1 year ago

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TO FLEE FROM A LARGER PREDATOR WAS A NATURAL RESPONSE FOR ANY SMALL BEING, and Aizen understood the feelings of the Rukongai quite well. He remembered the district he had been born into, had fought and clawed his way through survival with little else in his mind but that. Remembering his letters had been one of the few things that had kept him from going feral but he would ever and always regret the fact that he had never been able to take anything from his mother's dresser. He thought of such now as he gently lifted the boy from the ground, knew that there was likely every chance that this child might become a wildcat the instant that he scooped him up; such was the Rukongai.

Fortunately, there was plenty of fabric for those feet to vanish into, material more than thick enough to warm them up as he was held against the radiant furnace of the older man's internal body heat that seemed to be armor itself against the cold. There was more than enough haori for this young boy to curl up into as he desired and needed, for those arms were shelter and protection about his tiny frame. Such protection was a profound thing, in lands such as these, and rare enough to come by. THE STRONG CONSUMED THE WEAK --- or they protected them. Here, now, this man was conveying protection without a second thought to this wild child in his arms. Make of that what one willed, of course.

Naivety, however, was not in Aizen's nature; he knew the rules of the Rukongai and such a house and such clothing came to a man who knew how to survive in this landscape. He had his own territory carved out, had livestock to feed and crops to tend, with snare lines running through the forest and the nearby river that flowed sluggishly beneath the ice which cloaked the banks and rocks alike where it didn't flow fast enough to prevent the build up. When the true heart of winter thundered down upon this place, it would indeed freeze over and he'd have to get holes in the ice to collect what was on those set lines. No, he was not naive; those who were naive did not last long in a place such as this, did they?

As for once having had a child ... it was close but not quite accurate for what Aizen was experiencing with his vision of this boy. This --...

How warm the interior of his house was and how it told much. No leaking roof, no floorboards with splinters to bite naked feet. It was established with books and more, of the warm smell of incense, and he was gentle in putting Gin down as he looked around for a moment before he was glancing down when he heard that question, adjusting the haori for a moment more as if lingering on the task at hand rather than speaking. A protracted moment of silence swelled up before he finally gave a response, voice low and almost gentle, nearly weary.

❝ ... yes, I live alone. ❞ A pause before a ghost of a smile traced across the furrow of his mouth, visible eye twinkling. ❝ Unless you count my chickens and the goats but I don't think they'd be comfortable inside this house or make it smell good, you know. ❞

No, no need to fear cannibalism in this place; Gin was safe here and would remain so as long as he remained in this territory. There was nothing to fear from this man who wore an old, quiet sadness about his form like a gauzy veil of emotion. And there was, too, that strength of his body. No man made sickly from corpse meat, but there remained the acuity of his presence.

Aizen would feed hm, though, and thus he moved to collect a pair of porcelain bowls from a nearby shelf and then collected spoons before he was opening a small wooden box and pulling out a hunk of bread. Tearing off a generous section for them both, he stepped to the stew pot and dipped out a heaping portion of what cooked within at a low simmer for them both and then moved to set a spoon in each one. He didn't seek to set Gin's directly in his hands or to crowd his space; Aizen merely leaned and set it within easy reach, not wanting to see the boy flinch away from him. Best to take it slow, urge the growth of trust, encourage the easing of the tension he was sure that remained there within the youth he saw sitting before him.

The large brunet took his own seat nearby and dunked the bread into the broth; it was thick, nearly a stew, and pale with a creamy texture to it. Chunks of vegetables, potato, carrot, dried peas; they all rounded it out. The fish was delicately seasoned, not overpowering, but savory in the truest fashion of pure umami. Herbs added their own robust flavor profile to the meal in question. It was a good stew and one he had made many a time before now, had made throughout the decades when it had grown cold. It smelled good and tasted good and this was one of the best batches of it yet. The fish itself was left in chunks that melted like butter in the mouth, infused with plenty of flavor and promising to fill that neglected stomach. He was sure a hot meal and a warm room would perhaps leave the boy drowsing.

As for how this had happened-- ... Aizen didn't dare believe it, and yet ... he was almost certain that he had the capacity to feel something about him. He felt familiar. That was the strangest part of all. But the words and questions that rolled through his thoughts did not surpass his tongue, or his desire to know the truth of it. He merely watched him quietly as he ate, observing what he chose to eat first. How fast would bowl and bread disappear?

And, truthfully, he would have to discourage Gin asking for seconds; he was sure that this meal would be all that his body would be able to handle at this point in time. The fire crackled and there was a soft gusting whisper of breezes picking up outside; he'd caught a faint dusty hint of snow in the air, but wouldn't bet on it being fulfilled in its promise until he saw the clouds building over the crown of the mountainside he'd made his home at.

Yes, the weather promised that it'd turn foul at some point and winter came early and stayed long in the mountains; perhaps Aizen would be able to convince the boy to weather the season out with him, in this safety and this warmth, where he would receive hot meals and plenty of education to speak of. He could help with the animals, of course; there was always work to do on lands like these and an extra set of hands could make much of a difference. But he watched --- and if Gin finished his meal and began to drowse?

Well, Aizen would handle that too.

HIS FIRST INSTINCT WAS TO FLEE, to thrash away from the man's grasp as those hands extended out to scoop his small body up. Part of Gin considered biting into a bicep or forearm, whatever he could reach, simply because he had never been held before and the foreign sensation dumbfounded him and made him feel trapped and uncomfortable. But exhaustion had its hold on him above all else, allowing Aizen to easily lift Gin up into his arms without protests emerging.

Inevitably, that stiff discomfort had to eventually give way to fatigue; small shoulders started slumping, his head turning to seek further warmth against the man's chest. His feet dangled -- bare and marred by the terrain and skin cracked by the cold, urging Gin to try and tuck them inward and within the folded and wrapped expanse of Aizen's haori. The walk back toward Aizen's secluded home wasn't too terribly long -- a good amount of it Gin spent shivering, adjusting to the heat suddenly given, body not quite up to speed with the fact that he was no longer freezing cold.

Aizen's response to a slow admission on Gin's part of potentially being no good, well, he hadn't expected such a swift dismissal of that possibility. So trusting, Gin might've named the man naive were he not so dependent on that trusting guise at the moment. He wondered if he could pick his pockets clean and only get a small wag of the finger his way -- if the guy even discovered the fact that he'd been thieved upon, of course.

But he didn't desire to fall out of favor and lose the generosity thus far given without question. Maybe Aizen once had a child -- and that was why his gaze looked pained when he first caught sight of Gin as the boy stood up from his hiding spot, initially. He hadn't missed that look, though impassively hidden behind a casual demeanor, albeit concern-tinged.

As Aizen stepped inside his abode with Gin still in tow, the boy took a moment to shift his face away from the confines of its nestled position against the man's chest in favor of glancing around. Mostly to assess where his best escape routes could be if things turned undesirable here, but... ah, he'd never been inside such an extravagent and homey place before, warmth radiant and filling. It was a well-lived-in house, too, not smacked together with crooked floorboards and a leaky roof -- but a home, filled with trinkets and tokens of time's passage and Aizen's stability in having such a home. Not once, seemingly, had he ever been in threat of losing his possessions or shelter. It was well-kept, not dusty -- neatly arranged items had Gin's curiosity prodding at him, though he did want to soak up the fire's light and heat the minute he was set down in front of it.

❝ Do y'live alone? ❞ He didn't sense anyone else nearby, no -- just this sole man and his large house in the mountains. Was he a cannibal? Was Gin to be eaten once fattened up? He'd heard tales before and had his own run-in with the hungry and desperate who eyed him, his legs and torso, as though assessing how much sustenance he'd offer. Not much. Gin always managed to outrun those types, too, those lumbering men sickly from eating rotten meat off corpses -- easily deterred by his innate power and speed.

Aizen didn't seem the type. He seemed strong enough to get what he wanted without having to crawl on all fours to get it. He hadn't felt feeble, either. A broad chest, muscled shoulders, strong arms. Gin reckoned he'd not be able to outrun -- and especially overpower -- the likes of him.

The mentioning of food made Gin's thoughts slide to a halt, stirring another pang of hunger so deep in his gut that he couldn't help but slump forward. That slouched posture brought forth had Gin's knees folding to press up against his chest within the draped confines of that large haori that covered him, his head quick to nod before he could even think of any caution or manners. Yes, he was very hungry, and anything fresh and hot sounded unbelievably delicious right now.

Half of him wanted to explore, to peer at all those things that caught his eye initially upon entry of this man's home, but the other stronger portion of Gin's urges willed him to stay within the caress of heat near the fire, especially warming his toes and feet as he inched the limbs closer toward those dancing flames simmering low, flickering. Tingly throbs of pain ached as the feeling was slowly heated back into his skin. Thank fuck he didn't seem frostbitten -- as cold as it was outside, it wasn't that frigid yet... a fortunate mercy for Gin's fate being cast out from his makeshift shelter by an angry mob of the nearby townsfolk.

History, unbeknownst to him, seemed destined to repeat itself when it came to Gin's Rukongai experiences. Perhaps that was a testament to how unnatural his reincarnation was; a soul that perished so recently, within the last... five years? To be seen again, so soon? Spat back into the distant Rukongai that just so happened to house Aizen Sousuke... something was amiss, was it not? But Gin wouldn't know, couldn't've known, his memories were only of the last few months after he awoke by a moonlit stream. He remembered nothing earlier, but that was relatively common for new souls within Soul Society. The distant nostalgia stirred without his ability to place a finger on the feeling that had only begun occurring whilst he hid in those barren bushes, watching from between branches as Aizen called out to him.

Whatever this phenomenon was, Gin held no part in its making. He was just a boy, hungry, eager to take a bite of warm bread now that Aizen so generously mentioned the meal to him.

#godkilller #verse: tbt #oh this is always a very fun thread it's fine #aizen's only gotten emotional about this all and he'll just!#he's going to do his best here!#little gin has him all stirred up in the emotions and he's not going to let go of him easily

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c-e-d-dreamer · 2 years ago

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What about some more nessian angst with More Than This, please??

*When he lays you down, I might just die inside / It just don't feel right /'Cause I can love you more than this*

"Cause I can love you more than Stan...." Thanks so much for sending! What a lovely, but sad song, and what a hopefully lovely but painful drabble I have written. It hurts so good! I hope you enjoy :)

When he lays you down, I might just die inside. It just don’t feel right ‘cause I can love you more than this.

Summer has always been Cassian's favorite season. There's just something about the sun, the heat, the fun that comes along with those blissful three months. He looks forward to it every year, to spending the days in his swim trunks, soaking up the rays and wasting the hours away at the beach. His toes buried in the sand, a cold drink in his hand? Nothing can beat it.

But even more so Cassian looks forward to seeing her this summer.

The Archerons have owned the beach house next door to his own family's for as long as Cassian can remember, and that meant those summer months were always spent with his brothers and the Archeron sisters. Cassian still remembers the sand castle building contests he'd have with Feyre when they were kids, the nights they all rode their bikes into town for ice cream when they were preteens.

Now that they're all in college, many things haven't changed, and yet at the same time so many things have.

In all honesty, it had all started last summer. After that first night drinking and catching up around a bonfire, Rhys had made a comment, a question really, asking his brothers if they'd noticed how Feyre had looked. Rhys had of course tried to be casual about it, put on an air of fake nonchalance, but Cassian and Azriel had seen right through it. It was less than a week later that Rhys and Feyre were sneaking off just the two of them, making moon eyes whenever they were together.

Cassian hadn't really understood it at the time. After all, he'd always seen Feyre as his unofficial little sister. But that last night of the summer had been the fireworks show. Cassian had tried to make cocktails for everyone to enjoy, and instead he had ended up making a mess of the kitchen. And of Nesta.

Margarita mix, ice, and tequila had gone everywhere, staining his tee and Nesta’s dress. They had gotten into a screaming match after that, Nesta sneering at him and Cassian pushing her buttons right back, until they were in each other’s faces. The tension was so palpable that Cassian could feel it prickling along his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake despite the August heat.

By the time they had made it down to the beach, the fireworks show had already started. Nesta had turned to him, her face annoyed, but whatever she said, Cassian hadn’t heard. He’d been too caught up in the way the fireworks lit up behind Nesta’s head like a halo, in the way the reds and greens and golds of them painted across Nesta’s face and reflected in her blue-gray gaze.

And in that moment, Cassian had finally understood.

He’d been too chicken shit to say anything at the time. It was the last day of summer after all. But now… Cassian isn’t going to let his nerves win this summer. He’s thought of Nesta all through the fall and winter and spring. The way her hair curls and hangs around her face after a dip in the ocean. The way her skin gets that pink tinge, freckles standing out starker, after a day in the sun. The way she bites her lip while she reads. The way she’ll roll her eyes at him or try and bite back a laugh. And gods, her laugh.

Every thought the whole year has been Nesta Nesta Nesta until an ache so firm settled in Cassian’s chest that he was pretty sure the feeling was engraved in his bones. It doesn’t help that Cassian can barely even look at another woman now. He may be well and truly fucked, but this summer, he’s going to do something about it.

The house looks just as it always does when Cassian and his brothers pull up, but a glance next door finds the house still dark, the Archerons having yet to arrive. Cassian helps his brothers to unload everything, and then they just lounge around the living room. Rhys spends the whole time furiously texting away on his phone, but it’s not long before his brother is practically leaping to his feet and heading toward the front door. Cassian and Azriel share a knowing look, but they stand up as well, following behind their youngest brother.

Cassian takes a moment to pause in front of the mirror in the house’s entryway. He runs his fingers through his hair, making sure his curls fall how he wants them, and tugs on his tee so it doesn’t look wrinkled. One last deep breath and he heads outside, eyes sweeping over where everyone is hugging and greeting one another. He watches Nesta hug Azriel and then she’s stepping back, that gaze on him. In that moment, he swears his heart stops beating.

“Cassian! It’s good to see you again,” Nesta greets, stepping over to him and wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Cassian swallows hard, tries desperately to keep his face in check, as he wraps his arms around Nesta. He prays she can’t hear the way his heart thunders between his ribs, threatening to break free and right into her waiting hands, but it’s hard to care too much when he’s holding her like this, when he finally has her secure in his arms. He presses his face to the crown of her head, taking in the lavender scent of her shampoo.

An awkward throat clear has Cassian raising his head. He finds a redheaded man standing just over Nesta’s shoulder, watching them with curious eyes. Nesta steps back from Cassian’s embrace and turns toward the man, the smile that blooms across her face leaving Cassian’s stomach sinking.

“And this is Eris,” Nesta explains, taking the man’s hand and linking their fingers. “My boyfriend. He’ll be staying with us for the first few weeks of summer.”

Cassian doesn’t hear anything after that. He doesn’t hear anything at all other than the ringing in his ears, the clanging of Nesta’s words as they ricochet around his brain. Her boyfriend. She has a boyfriend now. A boyfriend that is most definitely not him.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Cassian goes through the motions as if on autopilot, but all he can focus on is Nesta and Eris, watching them hold hands as they all walk down to the beach, watching Eris sling an arm around Nesta as they sit pressed together on a blanket, as he whispers something in Nesta’s ear that makes her laugh. Cassian feels like he’s going to be sick.

Cassian’s never been more thankful than when they finally decide to call it a night. Usually, he’s the one that wants to keep the party going, but for once, he’s desperate for the sanctuary of his bedroom. Once behind the safety of a closed door, he finally lets those emotions flood out of him, giving his dresser a hard kick in frustration. At least the throb in his foot is a welcome reprieve.

How could he be so stupid? He should have said something last summer. Hell, he should have said something in the fall. He’s had Nesta’s number for years now, and yet he thought—

It clearly doesn’t matter what Cassian thought, what grand plans he might have imagined for this summer. Cassian lets out a scoff and gives his dresser another kick, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. He counts to five in his head and takes a deep breath, going over to his window to open it up and let some air into the room.

It’s then that Cassian notices that Nesta’s bedroom light is on. She has her curtains drawn, but Cassian can still see the shadows, the silhouette of her and who he assumes must be Eris. He watches as Eris steps into her space, wrapping his arms around her waist, and when Eris walks her backward and out of view, Cassian has to turn away. He feels like he’s dying inside. There’s no other way to describe the feeling that claws at his chest, squeezing his heart until it physically hurts and Cassian has to press a hand against his sternum.

He wonders if Nesta loves Eris. If Eris loves her. Because Cassian sure as fuck does, and he can’t fight down the urge to march next door and tell her. To tell her exactly how he feels, every single thing he loves about her, how she she’s the only thing he ever thinks about.

To tell her that he could love her more.

But he knows that it’s not his place, that that’s a fool’s dream. So instead, Cassian climbs into his bed, shuts off his light, and prays for the first time ever that summer goes by quickly.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic #can you guys tell I binge watched the Summer I Turned Pretty?

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 5) - Date Night

Summary: The reader and Jensen go on their first fancy date together before attending a nanny happy hour the next night. The reader makes a new friend there to Jensen’s dismay but someone from the past will come along and change things between the new couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, lying, angst, mention of past child abuse/assault, fluff

A/N: This a rough one, not gonna lie. Enjoy!

________

Friday Night

“Y/N, I’m downstairs when you’re ready,” said Jensen through your closed bedroom door.

“I’ll be there in five,” you said.

“See you in fifteen,” he chuckled before he walked away. You walked back into your bathroom, looking over your hair in a bun. It looked like a freaking messy bun actually. You should have done it down and in big flowy waves instead. You pouted and smoothed out your dress. Of course you were bloated and you’d nicked your leg more than once shaving earlier.

“It’s Jensen,” you said to yourself, taking a deep breath. “He’s never even seen you in makeup before. You’re fine. He’s not gonna say anything.”

You forced yourself out of the bathroom and slipped on your heels, your clutch in your hand. You wobbled for a step or two on the carpet but did better once you were out in the hardwood hall. Ten seconds later you were downstairs, heading over to the foyer area.

“All set?” you asked, Jensen spinning around. He smiled as he stared, eyes looking you up and down more than once, not even trying to hide it.

“Y/N, you look pretty,” said Arrow as she rushed in from the family room.

“Yes she does,” said Jensen. “We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okie dokie,” she said, wandering off with a little wave.

Half an hour later you were sat at a table in a very nice restaurant, Jensen tugging on his collar. His cheeks were slightly pink but it wasn’t from the cold outside.

“So...what’s a good wine?” you asked, sliding the drink list over to him. “I’m not really good with the names.”

“You like red or white?” he asked.

“Normally red,” you said. “You?”

“I like a Merlot,” he said. “You like dry?”

“Sure,” you said.

“We’re not going dutch tonight you know right. This is all on me.”

“We can go dutch, Jensen.”

“I asked you out and this is fancy, even for me. My treat, okay?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said, looking around the restaurant and over in the distance to the bar. “You know I could go for a lemon drop actually.”

He smirked and set the list down, a waiter coming by. He ordered a gin and tonic for himself while you got your cocktail, Jensen breaking off part of a breadstick from the basket.

“Bread’s good,” he said with his mouth full.

“So. Ackles,” you said, picking up a piece and tearing off a chunk with your teeth. He stared and started to laugh to himself. “Ah, there’s my sweet guy.”

“Thought you were gonna say boyfriend for a second.”

“This is our second official date,” you said. “So. Boyfriend.”

“Yes girlfriend?” he chuckled.

“What’s an appetizer look like in a place like this? Like a tiny cube of cheese with some dressing they’re gonna charge twenty bucks for or something like that?”

“You’re goofy,” he said, a big smile stuck on his face. “Uh, they probably have something like that. There’s normally some kind of bread olive oil bowl option.”

“Fancy people eat like a starving college student apparently,” you said. He tried to hide his laugh as your waiter brought over the drinks and a pair of menus. “Excuse me but can you recommend an appetizer? We’re both new to town and are wondering what you think is a good choice.”

“You can’t go wrong with our sourdough and seasoned oil dipping sauce,” he said. You glanced at Jensen and smiled. “The artichoke spinach dip and tartar crackers are also quite lovely.”

“Do you have anything with a little more substance? We’re quite starving,” said Jensen.

“The fried calamari and crab cake poppers combo is a great option,” he said.

“What’s calamari?” you asked.

“Squid, miss,” said the waiter.

“We’ll have that combo,” said Jensen.

“Perfect. I’ll put that in and be back shortly to get your dinner orders,” he said. He took off and you made a face at Jensen.

“Squid?” you asked.

“It’s fried. Trust me, it’s pretty good,” he said. “I could go for a good steak. You see a filet on here yet?”

“Uh,” you said, eyes scanning the page and seeing most everything was something you’d never heard of.

“There it is,” he said. “I’m getting that and scalloped potatoes. See anything you want to try?”

“Uh, why does half of this seem like it’s a foreign language to me?” you asked. Jensen looked at his menu and chuckled.

“That would be because it’s in French. We’re in Canada and this is a french restaurant.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. He got up and leaned over the back of your chair, glancing at the page.

“These are soups and salads,” he said, pointing near the top. “Sandwiches. Pasta. Main dishes down here.”

“Uh, maybe pasta?” you said. He knelt down and read off the dishes to you one by one, your waiter returning by the time he was just finishing.

“Anything I can assist you with?” he asked.

“I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo with chicken please,” you said, handing the menu to him, Jensen returning to his seat.

“Face principale?” he asked. You stared at Jensen and he smiled.

“She doesn’t speak French,” said Jensen.

“My apologies miss. What would you like for your main side dish?” asked the waiter. “Steamed vegetables, scalloped potatoes, lobster bisque-”

“I’ll have the vegetables,” you said. Jensen ordered and the waiter went to get your appetizer, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think twice about the French thing.”

“Kinda hot that you know French,” you said. “I should try to learn it if we’re gonna be up here for a few months.”

“I’m an idiot and I learned it so you’ll do just fine picking it up,” he said.

“So where’d you learn in the first place?”

“I’m stuffed,” you said, plopping your napkin from your lap onto the table awhile later. Jensen took the last bite of the piece of mouse pie, licking his lips as he finished. “This might have been the best alfredo I’ve ever had.”

“I enjoyed it. Mostly I enjoyed listening to you talk,” he said. You blushed and looked away, Jensen letting out a small hum. “It’s funny. Doesn’t really feel like just a second date, does it.”

“No, not really,” you said. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re friends first.”

“Well I definitely like being friends with you,” he said.

“Me too, Jensen.”

“Want to get out of here?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, the two of you outside a few minutes later wrapped up in your coats. Your feet were cold in just your heels, Jensen’s arm wrapping around your waist when you almost slipped more than once. It was slow going back to the car, especially when it started to snow lightly.

“You know, that dress would still look hot with winter boots,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you said.

“No apology necessary. I got freaking dress shoes on and my feet are cold. I can’t imagine how you’re holding up,” he said.

“The perils of being a woman,” you said.

“Well, no need to impress me is all I’m saying. I ain’t looking at your feet anyways,” he said.

“Oh well in that case I’ll wear some nice baggy sweats next date.”

“Please do,” he said.

“You really don’t care, do you.”

“I think you look beautiful tonight. But I think you look beautiful every night. You did your hair and makeup and this is stunning, don’t get me wrong. But she’s not more beautiful than the girl at home with hair tossed up all messy walking around in oversized shirts and leggings. It’s like flowers. Both are pretty but one isn’t more pretty than the other.”

“Where the fuck did I find you?”

“At my house,” he chuckled. You whacked his arm and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Almost back to the car. I’ll blast the heat for us when we’re in there.”

“Thanks Jensen.”

“Thank you for the date, honey. I mean it. We’ll do it again sometime. Promise.”

Saturday Night

“Your boyfriend seems pissed,” said Brandon. You sipped up the last of your beer, glancing over to the bar where Jensen was tapping his finger.

“He’s fine,” you said. “So any good parks around the west side of town?”

“Center Grove is always my choice. Good playground, nice area, cops routinely are around. Parking can kinda be a bitch sometimes but it’s worth it in my opinion. My kids love it.”

“You’ve been their nanny for five years you said?”

“Mhm,” he said, knocking back the last of his drink. “Shawn’s mom is their mom’s best friend.”

“Oh. So you had an in already.”

“You know long term gigs are the way to go in this job,” he said. “Not too many American girls come up here. Your accent is cute.”

“Is it, eh?” you chuckled.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” he said, Jensen walking back with two beers and a clenched jaw.

“You okay?” you asked as he sat it down in front of you.

“I’m fine,” he said, taking a long sip. Brandon slid off his seat and made a face.

“I need a refill anyways. Nice meeting you Y/N. We gotta hang some time,” he said as he walked away.

“For sure,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes behind his back. “Jensen what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Well you obviously have a problem with Brandon.”

“I don’t have a problem with him. I have a problem with my girlfriend flirting with another guy.”

“I was not flirting. I’m trying to make new friends. It was your idea to come to this thing tonight anyways.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed.

“Excuse me?”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I’m not the kind of guy where I’m okay with you dating multiple people at once. I don’t get that not exclusive shit.”

“I’m with you and only you. I was being nice. Geez, let’s just go,” you said. You got up and pulled your coat on, bumping into a guy on the way out. He turned and apologized, staring at you a little long.

“Y/N?” he asked, a big smile on his face. “My Y/N?”

“Dad?” you said, his face much older looking than you remembered but his eyes still the same.

“Dad?” said Jensen. You brushed past your dad and outside, Jensen hot on your heels.

“Y/N,” your dad said as he left the bar.

“Stay away from me,” you said. “Jensen I want to go home right now.”

“What-”

“Right fucking now!”

He held up his hands and you walked around the block to the car, getting inside and Jensen taking off.

“So your dad’s alive huh,” he said. You stared out the dark window with crossed arms. “So is everything I know about you bullshit?”

“What?”

“Is literally anything you’ve ever told me true? Your dad obviously didn’t die when you were a kid. All those late night talks about family and shit, you just like to fuck with people or something?”

“I was not flirting with Brandon you asshole. You didn’t need to know my whole life story the second I meet you.”

“Oh. Okay. Just your fake life story then, huh?” he said. You shook your head as he got stuck at a red light. “If I can’t trust you, I can’t employ you let alone date you.”

“Whatever,” you said. He drove in silence until you were out of the city, going along quieter roads. You were close to the house when he suddenly turned right towards the local park and stopped in the lot, putting the car in park. He touched your arm and you turned, Jensen leaning over and kissing you roughly, far more roughly than you thought he was capable of. You blinked when he pulled back, Jensen looking you up and down.

“He won’t hurt you.”

“What?”

“Did he walk out on you and your mom?” he asked. “You told him to stay away from you. Sort of shouted it at him. Maybe you lied but maybe...I’m sorry I got jealous of Brandon. I’m still scared and I think you’re still scared too and that’s okay. If you lied about your dad, I’m gonna trust you have a good reason for it. I’m sorry for what I said. I trust you and I don’t want to know what my life is like without you in it.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I forgive you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said. “We can just go home, okay?”

“Why’d you pull over?”

“Because I knew I didn’t mean it and I knew I overreacted. I said I’d mess up when we started. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I’m 42 with three kids. Brandon is thirty and young and stronger than I am and can go out to the bar whenever he wants. You have options. You don’t have to settle for me.”

“If I’d wanted to settle, I’d have married my ex. What I wanted was the guy that forgives me for not telling him the whole story cause I’m not ready to say it. I want the guy that makes me happy and feel like I have a teenage crush but it’s deeper than that. You’re not the settle for option, Jensen. Why don’t you get that?”

“The last time I felt like this, I married the girl,” he said quietly. “That didn’t turn out so well.”

“You didn’t get the time you deserved with her. It doesn’t mean it ended badly. You loved her and she knew it. She wants you to be happy again, whether it’s me or somebody else.”

“See? That’s the shit that tells me...it tells me to keep falling for you. I’m so sorry for how I acted tonight.”

“I lied about my dad and not a little white one either,” you said with a nod. You turned away and felt his hand on your cheek. “So much of what I told you was a lie.”

“You don’t have to tell me the truth right now, Y/N.” He stroked your cheek and you glanced over, meeting his soft green eyes.

“My mom died giving birth to me,” you said, Jensen nodding. “He hated me for it. Hated me. He would hurt me when I was a toddler. When I was four he started doing...other things.”

“Four?” he breathed out.

“I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. Not until I started school. I was scared though so I never said anything. One of my friends mom’s realized what was going on when I was over playing one day. He went away and lost custody. I went into foster care briefly and got adopted when I was eight. Single mom who’d lost her husband young. That’s my mom. She was a kind person. Ray was always good to her and to me. But I asked him not to adopt me after she was gone and he knew it was because I was still scared of a dad again. Being a nanny, I’ve met fathers that look at me and I just know what was going through their head. I reported him and kinda fucked up their family situation but-”

“That was the right thing to do,” he said.

“I know it was. I’ve just...I’ve had more than one guy and even a woman walk in on me changing or into my bathroom and it’s like, she’s just the help, nobody cares. They don’t touch so it’s like...what can I even do? Then my house before this one, the guy tried getting in my shower with me and I shoved him and he broke his arm and I just don’t understand why so many people think I’m just a piece of meat. Even my ex never got why it bothered me so much. They didn’t touch me so what was wrong with it? He just didn’t get it. He would get mad if I wasn’t in the mood for sex. Nobody ever fucking gets it except you who I lied to and pissed off tonight and without a word of an explanation why, you say you won’t let somebody hurt me. Do you get why you’re the opposite of fucking settling Jensen?”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t Jensen.”

“How?”

“Because you’re a good person. You’re so gentle and kind. I know you’re strong and tough but I see it everyday. You should never be worried about how your kids will turn out. If they are half as good as you are they’ll be fucking great people. Your daughters aren’t gonna put up with shit and your son is gonna be kind to everyone and say fuck you to the toxic guys out there. I can already tell the kind of person you are through them and it’s a good one. A really good one.”

“I’m not the only good person in their lives,” he said. You sniffled and looked down, Jensen’s hand sliding under your chin and tilting it up. “You don’t have to apologize for not telling me all of that. Never apologize for not telling me that. Okay?”

“I never told anyone about…the other stuff,” you said, wanting to look down but Jensen’s hand holding your chin up.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry it took you so long to find people that would protect you.”

“You mean…” He nodded and dropped his hand away, running it over your head. “You’re not gonna like, go back and kick his ass are you?”

“Want me to? I’m very tempted at the moment,” he said.

“I just want to go home. I could use one of those hugs right now.”

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? Just to stay, nothing more.” You nodded and he kissed your forehead, a tiny smile crossing your face. Ten minutes later you were home and the babysitter was gone, Jensen pulling you into his room next to yours. You blew your nose in his bathroom and washed off your face, lifting your head to find a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his shirts on the vanity beside you. He smiled as he ducked out, leaving you to change. You let your hair down and took off your bra before you walked out and saw his blanket on the opposite side of the bed. “Warm enough?”

You spun around as he walked inside and you nodded, Jensen pulling you into a hug.

“I’m sorry for how I was at the bar,” you said.

“I was the one that overreacted, not you,” he said. You felt goosebumps on your arms and he pulled away to turn up the heat, nodding over to the bed. The covers were flung back and you climbed underneath, Jensen getting in on his side. His arm wrapped over your waist and pulled your chest close to his, face only inches away. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore. No one will hurt you again. I promise.”

You moved closer to him, resting your forehead against his.

“Remember last Saturday when we were on the trampoline and you talked about those safety nets,” you said.

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re a really good net,” you said softly.

“So are you,” he murmured. He kissed the tip of your nose and you shut your eyes. “What’d you want to be when you were little?”

“A princess,” you said. He chuckled and you smiled. “I wanted a prince to come take me away and everything would be just fine.”

“Really?”

“Princesses were always happy at the end of the movie,” you said. “They got the boy and they were happy. Then I grew up and prince charming doesn’t exist.”

“Cause you’re not a damsel in distress. You didn’t need the prince to save you.”

“But the prince would have made life so much easier.”

“I’m partial to badass princesses myself,” he said. You opened your eyes and he was smiling.

“I’ve never noticed your freckles before.”

“They come out more when I spend some time in the sun.” You moved a hand up and traced under his eye, Jensen nuzzling into his pillow. “Make you a deal. If the badass princess saves me, the scared prince will save her too.”

“Okay,” you said. You kissed him lazily, Jensen smiling through it.

“Do you want to be a nanny forever?”

“Not forever. It’s an easy way to feel like you have a family when you don’t.”

“Now you do,” he said.

“Jensen you don’t know if this will work out.”

“I do and you do and we’ll take it slow anyways,” he said. “Which is why I’m asking do you want to be a nanny forever.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe someday I won’t need one,” he said.

“I thought about being an elementary school teacher when I was eighteen for a hot second.”

“You did? You’d be amazing.”

“Pay in Texas is crap though. I make more as a nanny.”

“If money wasn’t an issue though, would you want to be a teacher still?”

“Anything at all?” you asked, Jensen nodding, nose brushed against yours. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“You okay?” he asked, reluctantly letting you out of bed.

“I’m good. I want to show you something,” you said. You slipped out of the room and down the hall to the playroom, picking up a book. Jensen was sat up in bed when you returned and crawled under the covers. You handed him the book and he smiled.

“I don’t remember buying this,” he said, flipping it over. “There’s no serial code on it.”

“You can’t buy it. I wrote a children’s book and printed a few copies for myself,” you said.

“You wrote a book?” he asked, flipping through it. “Did you draw this?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen staring at you. “I don’t know if it’s any good. I never tried publishing it.”

“You want to write children’s books, don’t you?” he said, starting to read the story.

“I have a number of them written out. I would make up the stories for kids at bedtime and decided to write them down. It’s kinda like whinnie the poo, that age group, you know? Same group of characters but different stories,” you said.

“These are adorable,” he said, turning another page. You were quiet while he read through for a few minutes, Jensen smiling when he shut the book. “I’ve never read a children’s book where they deal with the loss of a parent.”

“The kids really like it,” you said.

“You should publish this. Seriously. It’s cute and I’m a grown ass man and it made me feel better about Dee.”

“It’s just a story,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I make stories for a living. This whole place would fall apart without stories. This is good. You should consider trying to get it published.”

“Maybe if that nanny job doesn’t work out I will,” you said.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” he asked.

“Not at all. I gave it to JJ in the first place.”

“Thanks. I want to read this to the twins tomorrow,” he said. He set it on the nightstand and slid back down, pulling you with him. “Why’d the mom fox die in the story? I would have expected the dad wolf considering…”

“Wish fulfillment for a nice father,” you said. “Plus I like drawing the wolf.”

“I like him. He’s fluffy,” chuckled Jensen. “Is that why you asked if I carry a picture of my kids when we met?”

“I’m done with asshole parents. If they treat their kids like shit they sure as hell aren’t gonna treat me any better. You seemed like a good guy. Good guys tend to do that kind of thing.”

“I’m not always good.”

“Yeah, you are,” you said. You shut your eyes and nuzzled close to him, Jensen letting out a soft hum. “You okay? With me being here.”

“Very. Feeling better after everything that happened?”

“Mhm,” you said. “I’m still sorry I lied to you.”

“Did you ever lie about your mom?” he asked. “I mean aside from the fact she adopted you, did you lie about her?”

“No.”

“Then you didn’t lie, not really. I’m sorry it came out like that. You should have been able to tell me in your own time.”

“You still would have been angry,” you said.

“I still would have come to my senses too. I’m not perfect. I never was.”

“I don’t want someone perfect,” you said. Your head rested against his chest and you let out a soft sigh.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and tucked it under his chin, adjusting the blankets once before he stilled.

“Goodnight, Jensen.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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matwith1t · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Back with some fluff!! Straight fluff. No angst nonsense. Any & all feedback is appreciated! Words of affirmation is my love language so 🔪 please🔪 Also, my requests are open 🥳 I’m working on one now, so if you have any ideas, my inbox is open!! I hope you’re all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/night!! 🤩

Summary: Mat tries to guess your favorite color, and even though he sounds absolutely positive with his answer, he’s wrong. But you don’t have the heart to tell him, so he spends your relationship knowing your wrong favorite color.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: two swear words, slight drinking // WC: 4K // Fluff

A slight spring breeze whistling through the air caused goosebumps to form on your legs. Everything was always a little better in the springtime; the weather started to warm up, parks began to become full of life again, and you were able to sit outside without freezing off your toes. Although there was still a crispness in the air––the last remnants of winter hanging on by a thread––the sun shined down, and you could peacefully sit outside.

On the balcony of Mat’s apartment, the two of you sat on the cushioned couch together. With your head in his lap, you had a book raised above your head, engrossed with the words on the page. And Mat, he had an arm lazily draped over your collar bones as his other hand scrolled on his phone. You thought he was engrossed with whatever game he played, but with his semi-serious tone of voice behind his question, you could tell he got lost in his head.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You dogeared the page you were on, closed the book softly, and placed it on the ground. You flicked your eyes up to see Mat already staring down at you, “My favorite color?”

Mat nodded his head, “We’ve been going out for a few months, but I was thinking about you and I––I don’t think I know it.”

A smirk slowly grew on your face as you teased him, “You were thinking about me?”

With a smile on his own face, he rolled his eyes at you, and with the arm he had draped across your upper chest, he gave your shoulder a squeeze, “I was,” he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, “So, what is it?”

The feeling of your stomach flipping at his confession made you feel anything but nonchalant. At his words, your stomach swarmed with an amount of tingles that you only felt when you were with him; the air smelled a little sweeter, his touch felt a little warmer, and you felt yourself fall a little more for him. Because even though you were physically with him in this moment, he was also consumed with the thought of you.

“What do you think my favorite color is?” Your tone was light and airy, excited to hear his answer.

Mat’s chest expanded as he took in a deep breath and then let it out through his nose. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as he stared straight ahead. When his eyebrows rose, it was like you could see the light bulb go off in his head.

He looked down at you, the reflection of the sun in his eyes made them shine bright, “Blue.”

A laugh escaped your lips, and his smile grew, “And why do you think that?”

“Because you always steal this sweatshirt,” he tugged on the strings of his blue Islanders sweatshirt that you currently wore, “You always talk about how nice the sky looks, always get excited whenever you see one of those blue butterflies.” His shy smile grew more timid as he listed reasons why he thought blue was your favorite color, “And you always write with a blue pen.”

Blue. He said it so confidently. And he listed so many reasons that you didn’t even notice about yourself as to why he thought blue was your favorite color. The warmth you felt whenever you were around intensified as you sat in silence.

“So?” Mat’s soft voice brought you out of your head.

He was so sure of his answer that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that your favorite color was not blue.

“You guessed it,” you said with a nod of your head. The smug smirk on his face widened as he sunk a bit further down the couch and caused you to chuckle, “What?”

Again, Mat only shrugged his shoulders, “I’m always right.”

A laugh that caused you to screw your eyes tight and clutch a hand to your stomach echoed off the city buildings. When you opened your eyes, you saw Mat adoringly gaze down at you like he thought he was the luckiest person on the planet. You reached an arm down to grab your book, but before you could resume reading, Mat lowered his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute,” he whispered.

With your book long forgotten, you raised your hand up to your shoulder––to where Mat’s hand lazily drew circles––and laced your fingers between his. He gave your hand a squeeze and a smile took over your face as nuzzled against the soft fabric of the sweatshirt he was wearing. And in record time, your eyes shut and you fell asleep.

–––

A week after Mat guessing your favorite color, he showed up at your apartment.

It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and you were up to your elbows in chores you had been putting off. So you decided that today was the day to get them done. A fairly loud knock on the door cut over the music playing through your headphones. While you would have answered it, your hands were a bit soapy from doing the dishes, so you asked your roommate if they could get it.

You were back to listening to music and washing the dishes, but then your roommate walked into the kitchen with a wide smile on their face, “It’s for you.”

With your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you nodded your head. After washing the soap off from your arms, and drying your hands, you scrolled through your phone to make sure you didn’t accidentally miss on plans with a friend. But there was nothing.

When you reached the front door, you smiled when you saw Mat waiting.

Without a greeting, he raised his hand that held a bouquet of blue flowers that made your heart melt. There were blue peonies, blue hydrangeas, blue tulips, and a few other blue flowers that looked like they were just thrown into a bouquet.

He looked shy with his free hand curled in a fist, stiff at his side, as his index finger lightly picked at the skin by his thumb. He looked unsure of himself––which was uncommon for him––but his rosy cheeks and timid smile made you think that he had never shown up at a person’s house with flowers before.

“Mat,” you said his name slowly; the brown paper they were wrapped in crinkled under your hand as you carefully took the flowers from him, “These are…” You glanced up at him and he still looked nervous as ever as you brought the flowers up to smell, “Amazing, thank you.”

While the presentation of the flowers was less than ideal, that didn’t matter in the slightest. Because in a matter of a few weeks, the flowers would be dead. But the memory––the giddiness you felt––of Mat showing up out of the blue with flowers would last for a lifetime.

He let out a shaky breath, “They’re––They’re blue.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you waved him further into your place. “That they are,” you chuckled as you went into your kitchen and opened up a few cabinets for a vase. Once you found one that would fit the flowers, you filled it up with water, “They’re really pretty, Mat.”

It looked like he had just come straight from a workout; athletic shorts, sneakers, and a dry fit t-shirt. And normally after workouts, he was almost as confident in himself after scoring a goal. But he still looked shy.

“I was walking down the street when I saw them,” his voice held a bit more strength to it, “They’re your favorite color.”

You had just finished re-arranging the flowers into the vase to have them all fit when he said his last sentence. They’re your favorite color. For a moment, you forgot that you fabricated the teeny tiny lie about your favorite color. But it made sense as to why he sounded so confident about that sentence than all the other words he spoke.

Because he truly believed that he knew your favorite color.

A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach as you gazed at him with a smile. With the flowers safely in their vase, you walked over to Mat, the smile slowly growing on your face with each step. As if he knew what your next move was, he opened his arms for you, and you wrapped your arms around his waist in an embrace.

While Mat still smelled faintly of sweat, you still took a deep breath of him in, “Yeah,” you mumbled with your face pressed up against his chest. He gently rubbed his palm and fingertips along your back, “My favorite color.”

–––

Summer came along and with Mat not having nearly as many hockey commitments, you were able to soak up time with him like you soaked up the sun.

While the sport wasn’t taking up his time, Mat continued to spend time with his teammates that stayed in New York for the off season. He received a pool party invitation from a teammate and immediately called you up, “It’s an Islanders Island pool party,” he sounded so excited. But you told him it was a terrible play on the name of Gilligan's Island for a pool party.

But you agreed to go with him, and that’s how you found yourself in the backyard of someone’s house with a pool.

And it really was an Islanders Island pool party. The whole house was decked out in traditional Islanders colors, everyone was required to wear an Islanders color, the food and drinks provided could all be found at the arena, there were custom Islanders balloons hung on fences and trees…It seemed as if this was a team bonding experience to get the players excited for the upcoming season.

You were sitting on the ledge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, as you caught up with Tito’s girlfriend. The two of you were laughing until you heard Tito call out “Hey! No cheating!” Both of you paused your conversation to turn your head toward the commotion. And like you guessed, Mat was doing anything in his power to win at a game of chicken.

Mat and Tito were standing in the water, as they both held up two kids on their shoulders, who wrestled each other until the other made a splash in the water. Mat’s infectious laughter––head slightly tilted back, eyes and nose wrinkling, with an open mouth––caused a smile to light up your face.

“You can’t go for my ankles,” Tito sneered at Mat, who again, laughed in his face.

The two teams continued to fight, with Mat trying to hook one of his legs around Tito’s ankles to cause him to fall. The chicken fight was quite captivating, but before you knew it, right as Mat tried to hook his leg around Tito’s ankle again, he kicked Mat’s thigh in retaliation.

“Cheater––”

But a loud splash happened before Mat could finish yelling at his best friend. The kid who was on Mat’s shoulder swam to the surface, and Mat popped up with a gasp. As Tito and the kid who was on his shoulders celebrated with high-fives, Mat splashed them with water. And with a pout on his face, he walked over to the ledge you sat on.

He walked slowly over to you as he pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. You predicted his movements right, because right as you slightly opened up your legs, Mat came to stand right between them. He rested his elbows on your knees and leaned the side of his face on his arm as he looked up at you.

Knowing how much he hated losing, you smiled sympathetically down at him and ran a hand through his hair, “Cheaters never win.”

Mat’s head popped up just as fast as his jaw dropped, “I didn’t––”

“You went for my ankles,” Tito said from behind as he splashed Mat. You flinched as some of the water sprayed up on you.

“You kicked my thigh!” Mat turned to look at his best friend who pushed himself up from the pool to sit next to his girlfriend. He then turned to look at you with an even bigger pout, “I thought you were on my team.”

A small laugh escaped your lips, “I’m always on your team,” Mat looked like he was going to interject about how that wasn’t the case with your previous comment, but you spoke before him, “When you don’t cheat.”

“Ha,” Tito gloated.

Mat glared at Tito, but as if their mini-rivalry and cheating scandal didn’t happen, Tito asked if Mat wanted to get some food. And with a shrug and a nod of his head, Mat lifted himself from out of the pool. He sat on the ledge next to you for a brief second, “Want anything?”

You thought for a moment, tilting your head back and forth as you kicked your feet around in the water, “A cookie.” You smiled up at Mat.

He reciprocated your smile before leaning in and capturing your lips in a short, chaste kiss, “A cookie it is.”

Mat and Tito walked away, lightly shoving each other’s shoulders, and you picked up conversation with Tito’s girlfriend. Fifteen or so minutes had passed before you saw Mat’s blue swim trunks in your peripheral vision sit next to you. He handed you a small blue paper plate with a blue frosted cookie.

“Thanks,” you smiled in appreciation. You were about to take a bite before Tito scoffed.

“He damn near killed me to get that cookie for you,” Tito’s tone of voice was joking, but your eyes widened as you turned your head to see Mat ducking his chin into his chest, face turning red. “I told him that there were other cookies at the table, but he said he needed to get the blue cookie for you.”

Blue.

Mat avoided eye contact with the group and shrugged his shoulders, “It’s your favorite color,” he softly said only for you to hear, as he kicked up some water with his toes, “It was the last one. I needed to get it.”

Favorite color.

Lightly, you knocked your shoulder against his. With his face still red, Mat looked up at you with a small smile. You pressed a kiss to kiss cheek, “Thank you,” you whispered.

Mat shrugged his shoulders, downplaying his actions as if he didn’t do everything in his power to make sure you got your favorite color. The appreciation you felt for him went beyond anything you could verbalize, so you offered him a bite of your cookie.

Maybe blue could become your favorite color.

–––

Mat had spent the past few December’s in New York, not being able to get as much time as he wanted to spend the holiday season with his family…but this year he had you.

Dressed warmly in scarves and winter coats, you had your mitten clad hands wrapped around Mat’s arm as you walked down the street to Tito’s place in the city. The air was brisk, and the wind felt like icicles hitting your skin, but with your face pressed firmly into Mat’s side, the cold air didn’t feel that bad.

The party was small, a few bottles of wine were opened and shared with one another. The night was full of laughs, Mat whispering softly in your ear, and gentle touches from him that caused an electric jolt in your body whenever he brushed his fingertips on your lower back. You met some new people, caught up with people you already knew, but when the night dwindled down to just you, Mat, Tito, his girlfriend, and another couple…That’s when the fun started.

Tito had taken out board games to play…But added a few drinking rules to them. And by the end of the second game of a non-sober Candy Land, everyone started to feel a slight buzz. And that’s when Tito’s girlfriend had the idea to play a couple’s game…A how well do the couple’s know each other game.

Tito gathered up spare paper and pens from around his place and handed them out to everyone. And his girlfriend tore up paper into rectangles and wrote questions on them to make a deck of cards. The rules of the game: a couple picks up a card from the deck and they have fifteen seconds to write down on their paper––without looking at their significant other’s paper––matching answers.

If you got an answer wrong, you took a drink. If you got the answer right, you kept the card. And whoever ended up with the most cards at the end was deemed the winner.

The questions were easy; Where did you first meet, What is your boyfriend’s favorite dessert, What is your girlfriend’s pet peeve, Where was your first kiss…Very simple. But there were some more challenging questions; What is your girlfriend’s shoe size, What is your boyfriend’s least favorite candy, What was the first picture you took as a couple…

You and Mat were on a roll, only having to take a sip of your drink three times. Tito and his girlfriend were only a few cards behind you. And the other couple tapped out after they had to take a sip of their drink after every other card they pulled.

“Tie game…” Tito deviously smirked across the table at you and Mat, “One card left.”

“So if Mat and I don’t get the question right,” You looked between the feuding best friends, both of them wanting desperately to win, “do you two have a chance to steal?”

“That seems fair,” Tito’s girlfriend nodded at you as she took a sip of her wine.

“They won’t need to steal it,” Mat glared at Tito, the competitiveness coming out of both of them in their glare off, “Because we’re going to win.”

Tito continued to taunt Mat, “Wanna bet?”

“Remember that you two do play on the same hockey team,” you placed a hand on Mat’s shoulder as you raised your eyebrows at Tito.

“That’s irrelevant right now,” Tito narrowed his eyes more on Mat.

Tito’s girlfriend chimed in, “And remember that you two are best friends––”

“Not important,” Mat flared his nostrils.

You and Tito’s girlfriend looked at each other, helpless gazes as you both sat next to your bickering boyfriends. With a shrug of her shoulders, Tito’s girlfriend rolled her eyes at their antics and took a rather large sip of her wine. You followed suit.

With a deep sigh, you had a hand placed on the card ready to flip it over when you were given the go ahead. When the timer was set, and you said ‘ready,’ Tito started the fifteen seconds when you flipped over the card.

What is your girlfriend’s favorite color?

Mat tipped his head back, eyebrows raised high, and let out a loud laugh. Immediately he wrote his answer down with a smug look, “We have this in the bag.”

With a roll of your eyes, you wrote down your favorite color on your piece of paper. And when the timer chimed at the end of fifteen seconds, Mat looked too proud of himself as he drummed his fingers on the back of the notebook where he had his answer written.

“On three, flip your notebooks,” Tito said with a disappointed voice, upset that you and Mat had gotten possibly the easiest question in the whole game.

When the magic number three was said, you and Mat turned your notebooks around. At the answers written on your papers, both Tito and his girlfriend’s jaws dropped wide open. Their faces beamed with smiles as they high-fived each other excitedly.

“We can steal!”

Mat, confused at their celebratory high-fives, scoffed, “What are you––”

“You don’t have the same answers!” Tito looked as if he was about ready to jump up from his seat on the floor as he got ready to write down the answer to his girlfriend’s favorite color.

Mat’s jaw dropped as you heard a silent gasp of shock from him, “That can’t be right––”

“You wrote blue,” Tito smirked victoriously as his eyes shifted to you, “She did not.”

Blue.

Your jaw dropped just as Mat took the notebook from your hands, not believing what his best friend said. You saw his eyes scan repeatedly over the paper that had your handwriting; eyebrows rising high in disbelief as he continued to read a color that was not blue.

Slowly, he lowered the notebook and connected his dismal eyes with your shocked ones that were already locked in on him. With more than enough glasses of wine in your system, you forgot that Mat believed that blue was your favorite because of that one spring afternoon.

Mat’s voice was quiet, low-pitched so only you could hear him, “Your favorite color isn’t blue?”

“I––” Your voice got caught in your throat, knowing that you had to truthfully answer him this time, but with his pitiful eyes gazing into yours, you felt your heart crack because for months he was so sure that your favorite color was blue, “Not really…” your voice trailed off at the end.

Mat let out a small chuckle, a light-hearted smile tugging the corners of his lips upward, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking down into your wine glass, “When you said the reasons why you thought blue was my favorite color,” you looked up at him with a small smile, the fond memory replaying in your mind, “You looked so happy, I didn��t want to say you were wrong.”

Mat snickered as he shook his head at your reasoning. He threw an arm around your shoulder, and you easily fell into his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “So you didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Over a color?”

“I mean––”

“So all this time you thought blue was her favorite color?” Tito laughed as he took a sip of his drink. “Is that why you’ve only worn blue suits before games this season?” Mat’s cheeks turned red as he flipped off his friend. But Tito kept provoking him, “And the pool party over the summer––You pushed me down to the grass to get a blue cookie––”

“Shut up,” Mat playfully glared at Tito.

But like any best friend, Tito continued to poke fun at Mat, “Or, oh––that time we saw a blue––”

And like any best friend on the opposite end of some light hearted heckling, Mat got up from his spot on the floor and tackled Tito before he could finish his sentence. While the two of them wrestled on the ground, Tito’s girlfriend came and sat beside you.

Her eyes were on both of your boyfriend’s as they continued to roll around. She let out a chuckle, “Blue is a pretty nice color.”

And with your eyes trained on Mat, you looked more closely at his outfit for tonight. He wore blue jeans, a navy blue sweater, and thinking back to your walk in the beginning of the night…the jacket he wore was also blue. Although it came a few moments to late, it was the details at which he paid attention––Like how he noticed you always stole his blue sweatshirt, complimented the blue sky, got excited when you saw a blue butterfly, or how you only wrote with a blue pen––that solidified you changing your favorite color.

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh as Mat put Tito in a headlock, and you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your growing smile, “It’s growing on me.”

#Mat Barzal #Mathew Barzal #Mat Barzal fluff #Mat Barzal imagine #Mat Barzal fic #Mar Barzal blurb #Mat Barzal writing #Mat Barzal x reader #Mat Barzal one shot #Mat Barzal oneshot #Mathew Barzal blurb #mat barzal new york islanders #mathew barzal new york islanders #new york islanders #isles #vibe check!!!! not too well bc i hate tags with my whole heart #light a candle!! say a prayer!! send good vibes!!!#tell me the islanders don't have pool parties for team bonding #if i'm not invited to an Islanders Island pool party in my lifetime 🔪

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munchkin1156 · 2 years ago

Note

Helping the sick

note: this is (sort of??) a continuation from my other post, you can find it by looking up 'make new friends but keep the old au' in tags

Gab looked through her bag one last time. Hook? Check. Sword? Check. Medicine? Still not there. She sighed, and immediately broke into a cough. Winter was always a time of sickness, and now it hit her hard. The corners of her visions were blurry and when she touched her forehead it felt like fire. So even though it was agony to stand, she had to get those meds. And some food, if she could manage it. She opened the makeshift door, and stepped out into the hallway. She heard a soft 'mew' coming from the kitchen, and smiled. 'Hii puddles, how are you tonight?' she asked the beans pet cat as it came bounding down the hallway, purring like mad. Gab had befriended the feline when she first came to the house, and now it wouldn't leave her alone. 'Im not well, so I won't be here for long.' Puddles tilted his head. 'rrrrrrr?' She face palmed herself and started walking to the kitchen, where the medicine cabinet could be found, only stopping once or twice to sneeze. When she looked at puddles again, Gab could swear she saw concern in his eyes before trotting off. She didn't pay much mind to that, he had his own life after all. Once she reached her destination she swung her hook up onto the counter. After a bit of climbing she threw herself onto the solid surface and lay there, panting and coughing. 'Man I'm tired!' And she attempted to stand up. Her head throbbed from pain, and she didn't notice the footsteps coming down the stairs. And then she sneezed, lost all footing, and tumbled off the counter straight towards the ground. Gab braced for impact, but none came. Instead she landed on a soft, squishy surface, and a booming voice above her said something that sounded like 'are you okay?' Wait a dang minute. She knew that voice. She opened her eyes. A giant concerned face peered at her. That. That was a human. Her human. Shoot. The pounding in her head was really starting to kick in now, and her vision was starting to fade. 'Wait' she whispered. The world started spinning, and she knew she was going to faint. 'Please don't hurt me', Gab croaked, right before she slipped into darkness.

Jaden hummed and put Gab on a blanket, and began making chicken soup. Then they went to the medical cabinet to grab some painkillers. Puddles nuzzled her arm and purred. They glanced down at him. 'Dont act like you did work you lazy free loader.' He looked up at her and stalked off, his tail high in the air. Jaden sighed. They hoped Amy was all right. They should find her and tell her about their size shifting ability! If she was still alive. They hoped she was. Oh, Gab was waking up. Better explain the situation. They knew there would be a lot of questions. Hopefully not too many. If they were lucky. They opened the door to the living room.

:0 cliffhanger!!!

Do you have any prompts/fake fic titles for me?

-✨anon✨

Hmmm- I’d like to see a story where a tiny befriends the animal the giant owns before they befriend the giant! I think That’s a good prompt if That’s what u meant!

#g/t #g/t community #borrowers #g/t prompt #make new friends but keep the old au

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littlestarofthewest · 3 years ago

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This is for the lovely @sweet-by-and-by for the @rdrevents secret winter exchange. Sorry I'm posting so late, real life always gets in the way of fandom things. Hope you can still enjoy it!

Last Minute Love

Pairing: Arthur x gn reader | Words: 1,545 | Tags: modern AU, fluff, references to the pandemic

Arthur keeps checking his list while trying not to run into any of the last minute shoppers. They empty the shelves as if all the shops are going to stay closed in 2022.

He quickly sidesteps a lady who obviously never heard of social distancing, colliding with someone behind him instead.

"I'm so sorry," he says while turning around.

"It's alright," the person says, but their eyes grow big a second later. "Arthur?"

Arthur almost didn't recognize you with the mask on, but then he gets lost in your eyes, his heart racing. "Hey, it's- uh, it's you. Hi."

"Yeah, just some last minute shopping for tonight," you say, moving the box in your hand as if you want to hide it while your eyes roam over the contents of Arthur's shopping card. "You're going all out, huh?"

Arthur rubs his neck, feeling way too exposed. "I'm not much of a cook, but I'll try."

"I'm not much of a cook either," you say with a laugh and hold up the frozen pizza in your hand.

"You could join me for dinner," Arthur says, the words just toppling out of his mouth before he can think about it. "But I guess you have plans."

"I couldn't impose on your guests," you say, still smiling, and Arthur has a hard time collecting his thoughts. He always gets so nervous around you these days.

"No guests," Arthur says.

Feeling foolish, he grows red, his voice way too high when he tries to explain himself. "Most people I know just want to stay home. I just thought I'll wear something nice, cook a good dinner and try to forget about everything for a bit, you know? Even if it's stupid."

"Oh, it's not," you say, stretching out your hand as if to touch his arm, but with a side glance at the other shoppers you pull it back. "I think it's a great idea."

Spurred on by your lovely smile, Arthur dares to try again. "So, do you want to come over tomorrow? Maybe?"

"Dress all fancy, not feel like an imprisoned goblin for a change and have a home cooked meal in nice company?" you ask, raising your brows overly high. "I don't know, I think I'll stick to frozen pizza."

Arthur laughs with you, but his heart beats like crazy until you finally assure him that you'll be there.

After making sure that he got everything he needs, Arthur hurries home. Now that he knows that you'll come over, he has a lot more things to do. Arthur has to clean up his place, and - what's even more important - put the finishing touches on his present for you.

☆

You've changed your outfit three times when you tell yourself that you can't go on like that. You need to make a decision now, and Arthur probably won't care either way. There are a ton of great things you could say about him, but he's not exactly concerned about fashion.

You use the little time you have left to check Arthur's present again, wondering once more if you should even give it to him. It feels like it might be too much, so you also have a gift card in your pocket in case you chicken out on giving the real present to Arthur.

With butterflies in your stomach, you drive over to Arthur's place. By the time you reach his door, you feel light headed and ready to run away. You and Arthur have been friends for years, but over the last year you crushed on him worse than anybody else ever before.

You can't even say what changed, but whenever you see him, you want to be closer and can't stop thinking about kissing him. You get the same feeling the second Arthur opens the door.

His hair is a little more tamed than yesterday, and he's wearing a black suit and a white button down shirt, having only forgone the tie. You have a hard time breathing, let alone speaking, so Arthur greets you first and ushers you into his apartment.

"You look wonderful," he says with a smile and your brain finally kicks back into gear.

"You, too. The suit - well, suits you very well."

Arthur moves his shoulders as if to get rid of something and makes a face. "Don't know. Feels strange."

"You're just not used to it," you say. "Maybe you need more occasions to wear something nice."

"Guess I have to invite you more often then," Arthur says, making you all giddy. You have to remind yourself that Arthur sees you as a friend and that this is not a date.

You hold your head up and sniff the air. "Smells delicious. If you keep cooking like that, I'll come over every day."

"Come on then," Arthur says, leading you into the kitchen.

Now that you reminded yourself of your friendship with Arthur, you manage to calm down. You enjoy your food and talk about whatever comes to mind without feeling awkward. That's how you end up on Arthur's couch after dinner, well fed and happy.

"I'll admit, this was way better than frozen pizza."

"Glad you liked it," Arthur says, and you're happy to hear an inkling of pride in his voice. "And it gets better. I have a present for you."

"Oh, me too," you say, slapping your hand against your forehead. "I forgot it in the car."

By the time you get back to Arthur, you're nervous again. You can't tell him that you ran out just to fetch a gift card, so you have to give him your actual present.

He unwraps it with such care as if it's a living thing he doesn't want to hurt. What Arthur finds inside is a wooden box. All sides are embellished with different carvings of trees and flowers and on the top, there's the head of a stag.

"What is this?" Arthur says, his eyes big.

"You can store art supplies in it," you say, lifting the lid to show Arthur the compartments inside. "And you can use these holes as pencil holders."

"It's beautiful," Arthur says while running his fingertips along the stag's antlers. "Where did you get this?"

You wish you could have avoided that question, but now that Arthur asked, you can't lie to him. "Well, I uhm- I made it."

"You carved this yourself?" Arthur asks, now right out staring at you.

"This is actually the third one I made. The first two didn't look that good," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "I needed a hobby during the lockdown, you know."

"So you just became perfect in wood carving?" Arthur asks. There's so much awe in his voice that you can barely take it.

"No big deal," you say, trying to play it down, but then Arthur smiles at you as if the sun just came up.

"This goes on my desk. Abigail keeps nagging me about not taking enough care of my art supplies and now I can put them all in one place. Thank you so much."

The idea of Arthur looking at your box and thinking of you whenever he draws makes you dizzy and you wish you could take a breather, but then Arthur holds his present out to you.

"It's not that impressive," he says, "but I wanted you to have this."

There's something like worry in his voice and your heart beats faster as you unwrap the paper. Inside is a picture frame, holding a drawing. Actually, it's more like four drawings in one. Each corner shows the same place, but at a different season in the year.

"Arthur," you say, lost for words.

"Remember when we took that walk through the park and you showed me that spot?" Arthur asks, his voice a little shaky. "I often walked past there after that and one day I sat down and had to draw it. It's just a really nice spot."

Of course you remember. That day you ran into each other by accident and ended up sitting on your favorite bench. It snowed a little, you could feel Arthur's leg warm against your own and he lent you his gloves because your fingers were freezing. Looking into Arthur's eyes, that was the first time you felt that tingling feeling in your chest and that longing to be closer.

"It's beautiful," you say. "Thank you so much."

You lean in, meaning to kiss Arthur's cheek, but he turns to look at you, and you barely miss his lips, putting a quick peck to the corner of his mouth.

You both freeze and you're about to apologize, but Arthur doesn't seem to mind how close you are. Pictures rush through your mind. The day in the park, and all the times you met Arthur since. His smiles, and innocent touches that feel so much more meaningful now. There's a reason you spent months carving a box for Arthur. Maybe there's a reason for his drawing, too.

You take a quiet breath, taking in Arthur's warmth, his scent. Then you kiss him again, not missing this time.

Arthur kisses you back and butterflies take flight in your stomach. You never thought that last minute shopping could be such a good idea.

#arthur morgan x reader #secretwinterexchange #arthur morgan x gn reader #sweet-by-and-by

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howlingday · 3 years ago

Text

"Hey, Renny?"

"Mm?" Ren didn't turn from his position of cutting potatoes for tonight's meal. His childhood friend, Nora was tapping two meat tenderizers together, pretending they were lovers. She did this often in the stone kitchen, especially when the other servants were elsewhere in the castle.

"Do you think Jauney is happy?"

Ren blinked, then set down the knife. He turned to face her. Nora was sitting on the ground, wearing her black Ursa pelt over her shoulders, two meat tenderizers in her calloused hands. "What do you mean, Nora?"

"I mean, ever since Pyrrha," Nora made an uncomfortable face, "you know, Jauney has been really grumpy. Our fights aren't as fun anymore, he doesn't laugh at my jokes, and he's been especially angry at the people at his royal court."

Ren sighed. "Lord Arc has been under a lot of stress, Nora. He is the lord of these lands, and he doesn't have as much time to enjoy himself since winter is due in only a few months."

"Hm..." Nora tapped her chin in thought. "What if we buy him a whore?"

Ren blinked, then returned to his potatoes. "...No."

"Well, I'm stumped!" Nora stood as she exclaimed. "He has all this stress, but he can't get it out. It's not healthy!"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Nora. The harvest festival will be soon, Lord Arc will find have fun, and he will go back to his usual self." Ren grabbed the good potato slices from the cutting board and placed them in the pot of water. He slid the rest into a separate bowl with his knife.

Nora set the meat tenderizers on the stone counter. "Okay, but if he's still grouchy after the festival, I'm buying him the best whore lien can buy!"

"You're going to buy who what?"

Ren froze in place as the familiar voice spoke. He turned, facing the lord if this castle and his employer. He looked the same as he did when they first met; deep, blue eyes, under a mop of shaggy, golden hair and above a chin of golden stubble, and wearing a black Beowolf hide over his shoulders, hiding his muscular.

"Oh, hi, Jauney!" Nora jumped with joy.

"L-Lord Arc!" Ren gave a deep bow, hiding his blush from being embarrassed. "What a pleasant surprise! To what do we owe this honor?"

Jaune passed a glance between the two, silently judging them. He then smirked, reminding Ren that, though he was his lord, he was also a cherished friend. "What's this about buying a whore?"

Ren's face continued to flare. How much of the conversation did he hear? Ren lifted his head to face his lord, and saw his amused grin. Ren sighed before speaking once more. "We were just discussing our shared concern for your well-being, Lord Arc. Nora was simply providing a solution for your stress."

"By buying me a whore?"

"Yes!" Nora proudly exclaimed.

"N-No, my lord!" Ren countered.

Jaune simply laughed. "So which is it? Am I getting a whore or not?"

"I-" Ren choked out.

"Lord Arc," came a cry from another room, "are you here, sire?!"

Jaune sighed. "Sounds like more bad news. Before I leave, what do you think it might be?"

Nora answered before Ren could speak. "Maybe one of those creeps are coming for a visit again."

"Now, Nora," Jaune chided, "just because Queen Salem's Inner Circle are unlike us, it doesn't mean that they are to be treated any less than us."

"But they are creepy! Especially that stinger-guy!"

Jaune was silent for a moment of thought. "I suppose you're not wrong there."

"Perhaps, Lord Arc, the whores have caught wind of our plans?" Ren asked with a small smile.

Jaune barked a laugh. "Maybe they did!" He sighed before stepping towards the exit. "I'll go see about the shouting." He suddenly stopped a few steps from the door. "Oh, but before I leave, what is tonight's supper?"

"Tonight, you are having chicken stew with carrots, potatoes, and onions." Ren answered, filled with the confidence fitting of the Lord Arc's personal cook.

"Sounds good! Nora, are you coming with?"

"On my way, Jauney!" Nora skipped to Ren and kissed his cheek. "Bye, Renny! Jauney and I are gonna go get bad news!" Nora then skipped out of the kitchen, following her lord.

Ren sighed and returned to his task. One day, someone's going to have a problem with Nora's casual attitude. Until then, however, Ren would mind to his cooking.

Jaune made his way to the main hall, where the shouting was coming from. He walked in and found his messenger, Russel open his mouth to shout once more, only to shut it upon seeing his lord. The young man was wearing an undecorated black Grimm pelt, a sign showing that though he was a member of lord Arc's defense, he had yet to prove himself worthy of any notable position.

"Yeah, I heard you. Are we under attack?"

"Have the whores caught wind?" Nora asked as she stepped in.

"I- what?" Russel asked in confusion. He then shook his head. "No, my lord, I have just recieved word of a small force on their way to the castle."

"How small?" Jaune asked.

"Just three; a man and two women."

Nora scoffed. "Just two women? Please! I'm ten times worth any woman!"

"Y-Yes, but there's more."

"More?" Jaune asked.

"Yes, my lord. You see, the woman leading them is described as a raven-haired maiden in a red dress."

Jaune clenched his teeth, and felt his breath grow shallower. "What color were here eyes?"

Russel swallowed the lump in his throat before answering. "From whatever men survived their encounter with her, described her as a witch with amber eyes."

"Jaune-"

"Nora," Jaune interrupted, "alert the rest of the castle. I want everyone ready for whatever happens next."

Nora nodded. "Yes, my lord!" Russel paled further. When dame Nora, the most crass of Jaune's closest charges and his right hand, spoke formally to lord Arc, he knew the danger was real.

"Russel," Jaune spoke, breaking the messenger out of his stupor. "What did you mean by, 'whatever men survived their encounter'?"

Cinder yawned as she passed through the hamlet on her steed. The black beast bellowed smoke from it's ember-lit maw as it trudged forward. Emerald glanced between her lady and the people who cowered in their houses. Mercury grinned with delight as he watched people flinched at meeting his gaze.

When he saw a pretty girl, his grin shifted to a wide, predatory smile. They would weep at the sight of this, hiding behind their husbands, fathers, and brothers with the same amount of fear. He chuckled every time.

"Mercury," Cinder spoke, "what do you think you're doing?" She didn't meet his eyes when he looked up. She faced forward, her face as indifferent as it was when they entered the hamlet.

"I'm just having fun." He defended.

"Your 'fun' is upsetting our beast. Continue," her gaze finally met his, amber eyes alight with wrath, "and I will have my fun with you." Mercury flinched and faced forward. "Besides, you'll have plenty of time for fun once we reach Arc's hovel."

"Does he know we're coming, ma'am?" Emerald asked.

"I have sent more than enough messages to ensure that he will greet us personally."

"And if he doesn't?"

Cinder looked around. Every door was shut. Every window filled with at least one person. Every home with a family as small as two people or as big as four generations. She smiled.

"Then I'll just have to send a bigger message."

Nora stood outside the gates, the cold autumn wind biting her skin. She liked this, though. It reminded her that she was hardy, tougher than the supposed "ladies" who would rather hide and let someone else fight their battles.

She looked up and saw gray clouds combining, gathering together to choke out whatever blue and light remained in the sky. It was going to rain soon, but again, she didn't care. If she became sick, she would just power through it, like she did all things. Plus, Ren would wait on her, hand and foot, as he always did before. She smiled at the thought.

The sound of running footsteps returned her focus to the road leading to the castle. Another messenger showed up, this time with singed clothes. What was his name again? Duck?

"Reports from the nearby village; two-"

"Women and one man are approaching the castle." Nora interrupted. "Yeah, we heard."

"The woman leading them was also riding a black monster we've never seen before! What do we do?"

Nora looked him up and down. He was pudgy, kind of short compared to Ren and Jaune. He wore an unmarked Grimm pelt like the other one, except his was burnt, and slightly smoldering. She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "Go inside, get cleaned up, and get ready to fight."

"Yes, dame!" He rushed past her after giving a salute. She hated formality, especially getting them.

It has been three years since the day she "earned" her title. She remembers because it was given to her by the Black Queen herself as a reward for turning her back on everything she cared for. Two nights after she and Jaune surrendered to her after that monster murdered her best friend, Pyrrha.

Nora pulled out a spyglass and peered down the road. No one was approaching. Nora began grinding her teeth. She put away the spyglass and turned towards the castle.

"Looking for someone?"

Nora turned towards the voice. The voice of the murderer from that night. Atop a Grimm twice her size, sat Lady Cinder Fall in her red dress with golden accents. She had a wry smile on her face, like a tyrant out of a fairy tale after telling them their hero had died. Like she had after slaughtering her friends.

"No." Nora answered, glaring at the murderer. "I was looking for something, and then you showed up."

"Referring to a lady as a thing?" The assassin to Cinder's right said. "Sounds like treason if you ask me."

"No one asked you. Besides, what I was going to ask you was, 'how's your knees?' You know, after I broke them?" Mercury stepped forward, but a snap of Cinder's fingers brought him to heel.

The woman stepped forward instead. "We request-"

"Demand, Emerald." Cinder corrected.

"-Demand an audience with Lord Jaune Arc. Is he available?"

Nora eyed the woman carefully. She didn't remember seeing her. Was she there that night, or did she join after that? "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Emerald repeated.

"Uh-huh."

Cinder slid from her steed and stepped towards Nora. "There's no need to be rude." She checked her fingernails. "After all, we're all on the same side, right? We both pledged our loyalty to Queen Salem, no?" She lowered her head to be level with Nora's, smiling. "I mean, unless you feel another example should be made."

"Like burning more of our messengers?"

"Like burning another champion."

Nora reeled back a fist. Mercury crouched like a wound spring, while Emerald drew her twin, curved blades. As the Grimm began salivating a glowing red liquid from it's maw, Nora swung forward.

And Cinder kept smiling.

"Lady Fall!" A voice called from behind, stopping Nora from connecting her punch. Nora turned and saw Jaune walking out from the castle gates, arms wide open and a smile on his face. "I wish you had contacted sooner! The castle is an absolute mess, and there's only enough food for one helping for the four of us."

Cinder stepped around Nora and approached Jaune with the same gesture. Nora watched as they hugged. "I do apologize, Lord Arc, but our matter was so urgent, it had to be done without much warning. Why, I recieved the news before the crow of this morning's rooster!" The two shared a laugh. "And don't worry about dinner, we won't be long."

Jaune wrapped an arm around Cinder's shoulder and guided her inside. "And send you home on empty stomachs? Oh, no! I insist! Come, my cook was preparing a delicious chicken stew."

"Can you stew a chicken, Lord Arc?"

"I can't, but my cook can!" The laughter echoed from inside.

"Don't wait up." Mercury taunted as he stepped past. Emerald followed quietly. Nora eyed the Grimm as it stood there. She turned and walked inside.

She hated formalities, but she hated this even more.

Lady Cinder Fall, protege and student of Black Queen Salem, was impressed by the dinner. The dining hall itself, though not as large as her majesty's, was certainly large enough to house an army. And based on the large number of occupants currently eating before her, it did.

Cinder sat at a long table next to Lord Arc, her other side occupied by Emerald and Mercury, and Lord Arc's side occupied by his two lackeys, the girl from outside and some burly meathead he never met. In front of her were rows of soldiers, messengers, guards, and castle staff eating from their plates and bowls.

"More wine?" The young man in a green robe asked, holding a bottle of red wine. He looked as young as Lord Arc, and had a pink strip of hair in his bangs.

"No, thank you." Cinder presented a soft smile.

"I'll have some!" Mercury said, shaking his empty glass.

Cinder rolled her eyes and turned to Lord Arc. He sat quietly, looking out to his subjects with smile. His glass and bowl were empty, save for a few drops remaining of his wine and soup. "Lord Arc," Cinder began, immediately getting his attention, "regarding the important business we must discuss."

"Oh, of course. But can it wait until after dinner?" Lord Arc asked. "It's like my father once said; 'politics only aid indigestion.' And considering this is urgent news from her majesty herself, it could only be something political, right?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Her majesty, Black Queen Salem, has tasked me to deliver a message for you."

"Oh? And what might this message entail?"

"Queen Salem requests to know your intentions as Lord of the eastern coast."

"I... I'm afraid I don't understand the question." Lord Arc grew tense, she could tell. She could also see how close his protectors were listening in. "When Queen Salem graced me with the task of acting as lord of Vale's eastern coast, I thought I was to simply act as she would have me."

"Yes, but she's curious as to your endgame. Surely, you don't intend to simply live the rest of your life alone with no legacy; no songs of great deeds left to outlast you twice over?"

"...Lady Fall, I'm flattered, but I'm afraid I'm just not ready for your proposal to wed."

Cinder laughed. It was fake, but she tried to make it sound genuine. "Oh no, Lord Arc! This isn't a marriage proposal. But her majesty is concerned you may not be... up to the task."

"Is this a question of my loyalty?"

"Perhaps," she smirked, "but I feel a test is more appropriate."

The sound of liquid splashing suddenly caught Lord Arc's attention. He stood over Cinder and he gritted his teeth. Wearing her smile, she turned to watch as Mercury poured a third bottle of wine onto the servant's head. His hair was soaked and matted as he continued to bow.

"Damn, out again." Mercury said in a bored tone. "What was this wine called again?"

"The Rouge Rogue, sir." The servant replied. "Aged for twenty years from the-"

"Boring!" Mercury cracked the bottle over the servant's head. He fell with a thump, the bottle shattering and cutting his scalp.

"REN!" The girl screamed as she rose, unknowingly signaling the rest of the castle to not only rise as well, but rise with weapons in their hands. The soldiers and guards rose with swords and axes, while the servants, both too young to speak clearly and too old to stand without a cane, held forks and knives in their hands. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU SONUVA-!"

"SILENCE!"

Everyone froze in place and stared as Lord Arc, master of this castle, roared his prominence. His face was red with rage, but his hands, held aloft, were stiff. The crowd was silent, save for Mercury, who just laughed. Jaune stepped from the table and approached him.

"Clean that up."

"Is this guy serious?" Mercury said. "I'm an agent of Black Queen Salem, the most powerful creature who ever lived, and he thinks he can give me orders?" He then spit on Lord Arc's face. "Touch me, and I'll burn this whole damn castle to the ground. Hell, might have some fun doing it, too!"

Lord Arc turned towards Cinder. She continued to smile. "Don't look at me, Lord Arc. It's as he says; he's an agent of Salem. Harming him will have consequences from her majesty herself."

Lord Arc faced Mercury once more. "Is that true? You serve only Salem?"

"Pfft!" Mercury scoffed. "No shit, dumbass! I don't serve 'Lady' Cinder, or you! The only person I answer to is Black Queen Salem herself."

"I see. That will make this so much easier."

"Make what easier?"

"This." Lord Arc backhanded Mercury and sent him sprawling to the ground. He spit out a tooth as he got to his hands and knees. "Apologize."

"Y-You can't hit me!" Mercury staggered to his feet. "I serve-!"

Lord Arc backhanded him again, this time sending him over the table. The servant named Ren stood by the table and watched silently, his hand covering his bleeding scalp. Lord Arc glanced to him. "Take some servants and return to the kitchen. Have your wounds tended."

"Y-Yes, my lord!" The wounded servant signaled to the other servants and five of then set down their utensils to before rushing to tend to his wounds.

Lord Arc returned his attention to Mercury. "Apologize." Mercury murmured as he rose to his knees. "Apologize." Lord Arc repeated sternly.

Mercury Black kneeled before Lord Jaune Arc, his head bowed. "I am sorry, my lord. I repent and beg that you forgive me."

"You are a murderer and coward. You attacked my castle, murdered my subjects, and aided in the assassination of my fiancee. I can't remember how many times I hit you that night, but it was never enough to make you stop. And now you come to my home again to commit the same crimes, only to bend your knee at only two strikes."

Cinder's smile had grown to a predatory grin as she watched Lord Arc pass judgement on Mercury. Her keen eyes saw what led to this moment as well. This was what she came here to see.

"Mercury Black, in your path of bloodshed to your current standing as an agent of the Black Queen, you have proven that you have only grown more cowardly and pathetic in your services." Lord Arc grabbed Mercury by his hair. "Return to Salem, and tell her of your failures. Only then will you be forgiven." He then pushed Mercury away, tears streaming down the assassin's face. He looked to Cinder. "I believe it would be best for you to leave."

"Must we, though?" Cinder replied. "You would send is back in the middle of the night, storm clouds brewing above as we speak, with only myself and Emerald capable of fending for ourselves?"

Lord Arc held a pained face of guilt. Good. That will make things much easier.

Jaune stood on his balcony and watched as the storm clouds rolled across the sky. As Lady- No, as Cinder predicted, the sky was black, with no moon or stars to shine. Thunder bellowed in the distance as lightning flashed in the clouds. No rain, though.

He sighed and looked to his land. Everything was dark, so he could not see far, but what he could see pained him. He saw the tree where he would spend his summer days napping. The same tree where he met her.

He stepped away from the balcony and into his chambers. He walked to his bed and glanced at his weapon to it's side. He nodded to it's presence and sat on his bed. He replayed the night's events in his head.

He started from checking on his longtime friend in the kitchen. His wounds were cleaned and treated. All that was left was for time to heal. When Nora stomped in full of rage, Ren calmed her as best as he could. He felt guilty allowing his friends to suffer as they had, even when Ren noticed and told him not to.

Before that, he had to see to his guest's quarters. Mercury had not yet broken from his adjustment, which Jaune felt neither pity nor shame. Perhaps the punishment will be enough to change him for the better. Cinder and her fellow female companion aided in bringing him to their room. What was her name? She was so quiet at dinner, but she was close enough to Cinder to sit next to her at dinner.

Regardless, Cinder stated the quarters were satisfactory for the night. Once confident in their comfort, Jaune exited to allow them to rest. He didn't care for their company, but as Lord of the castle, he would serve only to anger his queen by leaving her inner circle to fend for themselves in the storm and darkness.

A knock on his chamber door awoke him from his reminiscing. He hurried to the door and opened it, finding an unexpected visitor.

"G-Good evening, Lord Arc." The young woman of green hair from before spoke nervously in her white nightgown. Perhaps his display earlier had frightened her, or maybe his very presence simply put her on edge. Nonetheless, he greeted her kindly.

"Good evening," he replied. "I apologize, but I don't believe I caught your name."

"My name is Emerald. Emerald Sustrai, Lord Arc." She was nervous. Though, with Summer's End so close, it would not be surprising that she was cold as well. "I wished to have a word with you."

"This couldn't wait until morning? It's late, and it has been a long day for us both, I'm sure."

"Yes, but I wished to discuss what happened today with you, if you don't mind." Jaune looked around the corners, seeing no guards. Only torches lit along the walls. "May I come in?"

Jaune rubbed his chin, and felt stubble. He hummed to himself a little at the feeling. Had it really been so long since he last shaved. He then sighed, remembering his guest, and stepped aside, gesturing with an arm for her to enter. As she entered, Jaune caught a faint scent of lavender from her. He hummed once more, then shut the door.

"What did you want to talk about?" Jaune asked as casually as possible. It would be best to keep her at ease. "Your trip, your mission, or-"

"I wanted to ask about your semblance."

Jaune blinked. "My semblance?"

"Y-Yes. You used your semblance on Merc earlier, and I wanted to know how it worked."

"To find a weakness?" Jaune asked with caution. He stepped towards his bed, not revealing his back to her once.

"No! It's just..." Emerald gulped. Was she sent to spy on him?

"Just what?" Jaune repeated. "The only times people want to know about the abilities of another is to either gloat their superiority, or to exploit a weakness from a gullible opponent."

"W-What if I told you mine? Just to make us even?" Jaune seated himself on his bed. He then waved for Emerald to continue with his hand. Emerald sighed and held out her hand. Her eyes focused on it. Suddenly, as though from nowhere, a flower grew from her palm. It was a small lavender, in size and shape, but it casted no shadow as Jaune watched. Emerald stepped forward and help the delicate plant in front him. Jaune tried to pluck it, but it died in his fingers, fading away as he touched it.

"Illusion." Jaune stated. "Your semblance tricks a foe with an illusion you desire them to see." He chuckled. "It's certainly impressive, but judging by your breathing, it requires a lot of concentration to maintain."

"And... what of yours, Lord Arc?" She said, still catching her breath. "That was... no illusion... that made Merc bow to you."

"Supremacy." Jaune answered. "When I strike an opponent's aura, their will ebbs away, eventually forcing them to submit to me. Depending on how strong one's will is, I will either have to hit them once, or multiple times."

Emerald gulped. "I... I see."

"Now that I've answered your question, I have a question for you." Jaune stood, his frame towering over Emerald, his blue eyes squinting. "What are you doing in my room so late in the night, Emerald Sustrai?"

Emerald didn't speak. She didn't dare look in his eyes. Was her plan found out? It was supposed to be a simple in and out reconnaissance mission. All she had to do was get information on Lord Arc's semblance and report back to Cinder. She wasn't prepared to fight; she left her weapons in her room, concerned she wouldn't have been able to hide them from the man. Now, she was vulnerable.

"Are you going to answer me?" Emerald remained frozen, like a rabbit in a tiger's cage. "Would you like for me to answer for you? Nod if you do."

Emerald wanted to shake her head, if only to be given more time to think of a lie. But she didn't. Like a fool, she nodded.

Lord Arc circled around her. "I'll bet you thought you were clever. Sneaking in, taking what you came for, and then retreating to celebrate your conquest." He stopped in front of her. "But you made one mistake in coming here." Emerald shut her eyes, expecting the worst.

She heard the bed squeak. "I'm just not in the mood." Emerald opened her eyes and saw Lord Arc lounging back on his bed. "Don't get me wrong; you're certainly beautiful, and on almost any other night, I would have ravaged you until all I could think was lavender, but I'm just not interested."

Emerald stood there, blinking. "Er, so you're saying I'm here to...?"

"Are you not a whore?"

Emerald's cheeks flushed. "Wh- No!" She didn't mean to scream, but she couldn't control herself due to the indignity of it. True, she is a liar, a thief, and, in some instances, a murderer, but never a streetwalker. "I'm not a whore!"

Lord Arc sat up. "Then why are you here?"

Emerald cursed herself. Her pride got the better of her. She coughed into her fist as she spoke again. "W-What I mean is, I don't think of myself as a whore. I prefer the term... escort."

Lord Arc's cheeks flushed. "Oh, I am so sorry! I... I had always heard it spoken as- W-Well, in any case, I humbly apologize."

Emerald saw an opportunity. "W-Well, you should! I can't believe your friends paid me so well to 'entertain' you, only for you to insult me!" She turned her back to him and stepped towards the chamber door.

"Wait," Lord Arc called out, "before you go, allow me to apologize in full." Lord Arc reached into a location she didn't see and heard him walk behind her with a jingle in his hands. He placed a hand on her left shoulder and moved his right hand to in front of her, a hefty bag of coins in his palm. "I hope you can forgive me for my rudeness."

Emerald took the coins. "Hm, I'll consider it." She then kissed his cheek. "But only because you're so kind." She then stepped out of his chambers and down the hall, sashaying her behind for show, certain his eyes were on her until she turned the corner. She then sighed in relief.

"This better be worth the trouble." She whispered to no one.

#rwby #lie ren #nora valkyrie #jaune arc #rwby au #lord arc au #cinder fall #mercury black #emerald sustrai

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gogolucky13 · 4 years ago

Text

Ghost of You [Epilogue]

Series summary: Bucky has worked hard to come to terms with his past and enjoy the new life he’s been given. But his mind is still plagued by nightmares of what he’s done and by the face of an unknown woman. What happens when the team is tasked with recovering another Winter Solider, causing Bucky’s past and present to collide in the form of the woman from his dreams?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic)

Chapter warnings: Fluff. Minor angst? Implied smut.

Word count: 1,507

A/N: Well, folks, that’s all she wrote! Again, thank you so so much to everyone who read this story. I don’t get emotional often, but sharing this series has been something else! I hope this gives everyone closure. Hope you like! Enjoy! 😊💜 gif not mine.

Epilogue

Six months later...

A cool evening breeze picks up, and you breathe deep to fill your lungs with the fresh air. There’s a faint mist sprinkling over your skin as the wind carries over the lake before you, refreshing and invigorating. Examining your garden one last time, you decide you’ve done enough for the day and retreat back home.

Home.

It was a new concept for you, having a home, a place to call your own. Well, it was technically Tony’s cabin he owned Upstate that he graciously allowed you to stay at while you figured out your future. But the idea of having somewhere you could go to, a place to feel safe and comfortable, it didn’t take long for the concept to grow on you.

Stepping inside the wooden construct, you slip off your muddied boots and thin jacket. The smell of something savory lingers in the air, and draws you towards the kitchen. Pots and pans clang against one another, cabinets and drawers are opening and closing, and it’s part of the soundtrack to domesticity that you’re convinced is better than any song you’ve heard.

Bucky stands with his back towards you, hovering over the stove. Standing in the doorway, you take a moment to admire him. His hair is pulled back into a low bun, and you can see the few stubborn pieces that have fallen out. The muscles of his back expand and contract under the shirt he wears as he moves around. A warmth spreads through your insides, which isn’t from the kitchen heat, and an adoring smile begins to curl your lips, because this is where you’re meant to be. Both of you, together.

Finally, the super soldier picks up on your presence and glances over his shoulder to look at you.

“Dinner is just about ready,” he says, shooting you a playful wink.

“Smells delicious,” you comment, smile still lingering.

Pushing off the doorframe, you grab plates and utensils to set the table. And a few minutes later, Bucky is plating some chicken and vegetables.

“Oh!” You exclaim as you examine the food before you. “Is this my broccoli?”

“It is,” Bucky responds, sliding into the seat across from you, a proud smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A comfortable silence settles as you begin eating, but there’s a thought tugging at the back of your mind.

“Have you given any more thought about returning to the team?” You ask, focusing your attention on cutting up the chicken breast on your plate. You attempt an air of nonchalance when you ask the question, but the answer has a lot depending on it.

After you underwent the second round of deprogramming, a process that went much quicker than the first time, Steve and Tony approached you with a proposition to join the team as an Avenger. You pretended to consider their proposal, but there really was no need, your mind was already made up before they even finished asking the question.

Finally with a choice of your own, you decided your unwanted life full of violence was over. As politely as you could, you turned down their offer, which they understood completely. They assured you’d always have a place at the Compound if you ever did decide to join the team, or if you just wanted to stick around.

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky responds, clearing his throat and glancing up from his dinner, “I talked to Steve about it the other day.”

The rate of your pulse quickens and your gaze instinctively flits to Bucky, waiting on edge for his full answer.

“I’m staying on the team,” he says, and your shoulders slightly slump in defeat, attention falling to your food.

Even though you were permitted to stay at the Compound, you found it difficult to move on from the demons of your past. Bucky was there to comfort you and assure you, but each day that passed, you were reminded of things you wanted to forget. And you became miserable, feeling like you were being suffocated by relentless thoughts and feelings. You tried not to burden others, and attempted to keep yourself together for team dinners and gatherings, but superheroes are very intuitive.

Then, one day Tony came to you and offered his cabin as a retreat, giving you the opportunity to get away from the darkness and truly move on. You weren’t surprised your negativity was noticed, you were just surprised it was Tony who wanted to help.

You were quick to accept and Bucky was there with you, no questions asked. He requested a leave of absence from the team while you settled into normalcy, but recently there have been discussions about his return.

If you had your way, he’d stay here with you, but Bucky still tries to make amends with his past by helping and protecting those who can’t. You commend him for it, and it’s one of the many things you love about him, but the thought of possibly losing him again sometimes becomes too much.

“But,” Bucky adds, calling for you to look to him again, “it’s not going to be how it was. We agreed I could stay on the team on an as needed basis.”

You remain quiet, considering what his words mean.

“Most of my time will be spent here, with you,” he confirms, “I’ll only go if they absolutely need me.” He gives you a reassuring smile, and it’s one you reciprocate with a sigh of relief.

“That sounds...good.”

Dinner finishes with trivial conversations, but they’re ones you both relish in at the moment. No major concerns or problems muddying the simple life the two of you have created these past few months, giving you the chance to just be together.

A warm shower calls for you after dinner, the water washing away the dirt and grim from a day’s work outside. Not too long after you step under the water, something else helps to warm your skin.

Two strong hands wrap around your waist, a hard chest pressing into your back. Soft giggles fall from your lips when Bucky begins to trail tender kisses along your shoulder. Reaching a hand around to tangle in his hair, you sigh in content when his hold on you tightens. But then the urge to kiss him becomes too unbearable, and you’re spinning in his grasp to find his lips with yours.

Without missing a beat, Bucky is quick to reciprocate your advances, adjusting his hold on your body to keep you close. As you deepen the kiss, Bucky gently guides you backwards until you’re meeting the wall.

His touches always seem desperate, the lingering thought of this time could be the last time sticking to the back of his mind. It’s as if he could never and will never get enough of you, and he wants to take as much as he can. And you’re right there with him.

Reacquainting yourselves with each other’s minds was a large piece of the overall puzzle of your love, but still just a piece. Bare and honest, the scars of your pasts always on full display each time you familiarize yourselves with one another in the final, somatic part of the puzzle. Reminders of how far you have come together.

A breath catches in your throat when Bucky pushes inside of you, fingertips pressing into his back, and leaving behind the prints of passion as you hold on for dear life.

Breathy pants and pleasured moans resonate against the tiled walls until an overwhelming feeling takes hold of you. Tears prick at your eyes and a quiet cry cuts through the space. The muscles of Bucky’s back go rigid under your touch, stopping his movements to pull back and look at you.

“Lotus?” He asks softly, concerned eyes and a creased brow scanning your features, “Lotus, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His voice begins to grow in strain the longer you go without answering him.

“Nothing is wrong,” you sniffle through a smile, a small chuckle escaping. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably and unapologetically happy.”

Staring at you a moment longer, bright blue eyes take in your expression and words as he convinces himself it’s the truth. Then he sighs, fervently pressing his lips against yours, kissing away the pain and darkness that no longer has a place here.

A realization comes over you in the form of intense rapture, building from the inside as Bucky continues to hold you close. The Compound was not your home, this cabin is not your home, and the dark room from before was not your home. Those places only felt like home because of the man in your arms.

The man who patiently waited for you, and has endlessly loved you every step of the way to this moment now. He is the one you go to and call yours. He is the one who makes you feel safe and comfortable.

Bucky is your home. He always has been and always will be.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst

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