#I…for once…don’t feel so…trapped. that I’ll wake up with regret and feel boxed into a barbie box and trapped in a silent scream without air | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onecanonlife · 4 years ago

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Tommy is dead. The server reacts.

(word count: 1,732)

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“What have you done?”

His voice is a reedy whisper, thin with horror and the realization that he is too little, too late. He doesn’t expect the sound to carry over the lava, but a response comes soon enough.

“He wouldn’t stop talking. And he killed the cat.”

Dream’s voice is even, calm, almost a bit defensive, as if he truly believes that he is justified in his actions. Sam swallows down his mounting nausea, places his trident against the floor to steady himself. The lava crackles, hisses, bubbles, orange and glowing, and he can’t cross it. Not now. Not when the security threat remains unresolved. Not when any wrong move on his part could very well mean Dream’s escape.

But he’s already made the wrong move, hasn’t he? Made the wrong move, and Tommy has paid for it. Has been paying for it, this whole last week. He kept him in there, kept him locked in a box with Dream even though he knows very well how it would effect him, kept him locked in with the reasoning that it was temporary, that he would let him out as soon as he could, that he couldn’t risk Dream’s release for anyone, even for Tommy.

But it’s not temporary.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed when Sam last saw him, when he said that this would be the last time, that he was going to put his past behind him and look to a new start. Tommy will always be sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed, and locked in a box. There will be no new start. No seventeenth birthday. No triumphant return, no shining hotel. No tricks, no scams, no pranks.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed. Tommy is dead.

He can’t even get his body.

Sam stands on the edge of a curtain of lava, staring into the orange glow that hides a monster in a room that is now a child’s pre-made coffin, and he wonders if he is a monster himself.

***

“He’s fine.”

It’s the only thing to say. The only truth. The only possibility. Sure, the message is there, glaring up from his communicator in bright yellow letters, but it’s not real. It’s a joke of some kind, a trick. Something to fake everyone out. Maybe Sam’s in on it, too. Tommy must be going crazy in there, to think that this would actually be funny, but it sounds like something he would do.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo says, and then stops. Nothing else. His face is pale, though things like that are hard to tell, with him, considering that half his face is always pale. But he’s gone an ashy-grey sort of color, and it doesn’t look great.

“He’s not dead,” he says, and laughs a bit. “Tommy wouldn’t just die like that. That’d be ridiculous.”

Tommy’s death would never be so meek. Tommy’s death, when it happens, will be a spectacle, a dramatic showing with speeches and explosions and the sun rising at just the right time and haloing his hair, because TommyInnit deserves nothing less than the best death scene. Women wailing and the like. So Tommy is not dead, because if Tommy were dead, that would mean that he died alone, in the company of no one but his murderer, that he died scared, trapped in a small space with no way out, that he died without Tubbo by his side.

“Right,” Ranboo says, and his voice is doing a peculiar thing that Tubbo can’t quite work out. “Yeah, of course. Do you wanna—do you think we should go check it out? Go stop by the prison?”

“What for?” he asks. “Sam’s not going to let us in. He didn’t even when I built a dick on top of it.”

And here is another thing: Tommy can’t be dead because it was never supposed to be Tommy first. Tubbo has tried to live without him, and he found it very hard. So Tommy is not allowed to die before Tubbo does. That is the rule that he keeps locked up in his heart, because Tommy would be upset if he knew about it. But it’s a rule that Tubbo intends to follow, so Tommy can’t be dead.

That would be against the rules.

“Just to see?” Ranboo tries. Tubbo’s not sure why he’s being so insistent about this.

“Nah, we’ve got a hotel to build,” he says. “C’mon.”

Ranboo follows along behind him. His feet drag, like he’s reluctant. But Tubbo has long since given up on understanding why Ranboo does the things that he does.

***

He’s dead.

She should be glad about it. This is what she wanted. Tommy dead, punished for all the pain and suffering he’s caused everyone else. No longer able to start wars, to cause harm, to blaze his way through the server and leave a path of destruction in his wake.

Tommy is dead. She should be glad about it. She is glad about it. She’s even smiling.

There is a message from Jack. She doesn’t check it.

Tommy is dead, that blue-eyed, wide-grinned boy who followed along on his brother’s coattails. Tommy is dead, that fiery spirit crushed and his overbearing, fast-talking voice silent. Tommy is dead, that loyal friend, the protector and defender of all that he called his, the fighter, the scammer, the boy who loved with all of his heart and then some.

Tommy is dead. Dead, dead, dead. There is no coming back from dead. Dead is final. Dead is an ending. Dead means it’s all over. Tommy is over. Tommy is gone. Tommy will never grow old.

It’s what she wanted. She should be glad about it. She is glad about it. She’s even smiling.

Niki brings her hand to her mouth to check. It’s a smile. A smile, for sure.

Her fingers come away from her face wet.

***

It was an empty castle already, but it feels emptier now. The different between a possibility and its lack, they suppose.

Tommy was never supposed to die. They can’t fathom it, somehow. Can’t fathom that it’s real, that Tommy will never grace these halls again. They’d finally begun to fix things, begun to work toward redemption, well and truly. And now Tommy is gone.

Eret grips their communicator tightly in their hand.

“I’m sorry,” they murmur to no one at all.

It was never meant to be echoes in their head, over and over and over again, an apology that means nothing but so much scattered dust.

***

He closes his eyes. Breathes. In and out.

This happens. People die. They die, and they leave, and he’s left behind. That’s his life. That’s how it is.

It still hurts, when it happens. He’s still learning how to make it not hurt. Still learning how not to be angry, that people find it so easy to abandon him. That people find it so easy to go where he can’t follow. Wilbur first, now Tommy, and he doesn’t have anyone left, really.

But it’s fine. It’s alright. He can manage on his own. He always has.

Fundy decides to go to bed early.

***

He takes a moment to breathe. To process. To absorb.

To regret, for what might have been.

The voices in his head call for blood, as they always do, but he will not give them the satisfaction. Not this time. The blood he wants most is not readily accessible, and he will not put himself in the position of confronting the favor owed. Not now. Not like this. Not ever, if he can help it, though he knows that these sorts of things always take their due, always steal their pound of flesh.

“I know, chat,” he says. “You can all shut up, I know.”

It doesn’t appease them. He wasn’t expecting it to.

Tommy is dead. Tommy is dead, and their relationship with it. Any tentative attempts toward repairs have been left to rot, to burn on the funeral pyre. Theseus, fallen from the cliff at long last.

The story was always going to end this way. No one can stop the Fates from severing the string.

He stands with a groan. He is not built for this weather, for this cold, and it is a wonder that he keeps being drawn to it, time and time again. It is a balm, he thinks, but for what, he doesn’t know. For nothing, at the moment, as the voices threaten to crowd out all the rest. But he can’t deal with them right now.

Phil has his own house, now, and a bridge to connect the two. A bridge over still water, such that Tommy will never cross. He should not feel the way he does. Tommy betrayed him. Tommy used him. Tommy discarded him, so he tossed him aside in turn.

But once they were called brothers. Does it mean anything, in the end?

Phil is standing in the middle of the floor, ruined wings on full display. His face is blank, his communicator held loosely in one hand.

“Phil,” he says.

“I failed him,” Phil says. “I should’ve been there for him, and I wasn’t.”

Technoblade has no comfort for the truth.

But he has comfort for his friend, for his friend who is perhaps his father but is definitely family, so he stretches out his arms and catches Phil as he falls, falls and falls and screams, and it is good, he thinks, that the wings are already ruined, because Daedalus tried to catch his son and failed. It is good, he thinks, that the wings are already ruined, so he cannot try again and ruin the rest of himself, too.

***

He nudges the body with his foot.

“You shouldn’t have killed that cat,” he murmurs. The body does not reply, and he sighs.

Tommy’s face is beyond recognition. The blood coats his knuckles. He hopes that there’s enough water in the sink to wash it out before it sets. He hates it when the blood sets.

He didn’t mean to go as far as he did. That doesn’t mean much, in the end. This will work just as well.

He is a god, after all. He is a god, and he will have what he deserves, and more besides.

“Don’t worry, Tommy,” he says. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #tommyinnit #awesamdude #dreamwastaken #tubbo #technoblade #philza #niki nihachu #eret #ranboo #fundy #dsmp spoilers #/rp #once again i speedran writing this so it's not edited #forgive any typos or weird wording i just have too many feelings #cat writes fic

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collecting-stories · 3 years ago

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Saving Grace - JJ Maybank

A/N: A You Are Ok drabble set ten years in the future

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The Maybank house had sat empty on the cut for almost five years until JJ’s dad was released from prison. You and JJ had been down in Florida at the time, moved out of his cousin’s trailer and living in an apartment in the everglades. Talking about going home but unsure what the OBX had to offer at that point. It was barely two weeks after that when you both flew home, Luke Maybank had overdosed and the house was empty once again.

It stayed empty while the two of you gutted the entire place and refurbished it. While JJ and you stayed at the Chateau or Kiara’s place, while you found a job and found out you were pregnant, while JJ got a job for himself in the area and went back down to the everglades to empty out the apartment.

JJ laid the tile in the bathroom himself and fixed the plumbing. You painted the inside and outside of the house, planted a garden, bought a chicken coop. You and JJ moved in to the house and just like that you were back in the OBX.

You sat outside on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee despite the hour nearing eight o’clock at night. The baby monitor was sitting beside you, a soft gurgling coming from the receiver. You were waiting for the familiar sight of JJ’s truck pulling down the long driveway in the dusk. The headlights were already on, flashing on you for a moment as he parked and then cut off, the engine dying.

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” He asked, climbing out of the front seat of the car and bringing a bag of chinese food with him.

“Waiting for you to bring me egg rolls?” You joke, before turning serious, “I saw my dad this morning, at the grocery store.”

“Did he see you?”

“Yeah...it was, really weird?” You suggested, reaching for the bag. JJ shook his head and held the bag away from you, a silent ‘I’ve got it’ as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. You wrinkled your nose at the familiar smell of fish as you pulled away, “how was work?”

“Alright...” he shrugged, “what did your dad say?”

“That he wants me to come to church on Sunday.” You replied, following him inside.

“You wanna go?” It was a question but the way he asked you knew that he already knew the answer.

“I mean...I’m not gonna like, start going to church with them every week and ya know, go back to how I was but...it might be nice. I do miss my family and, I want to have boundaries but maybe they don’t have to be like, huge ten-year silence boundaries where we never speak. I do want Willow to know her cousins; I think. What do you wanna do?” You asked, passing plates across the counter to him.

A tinny half cry sounded from the monitor on the table and you both turned to look over at it, waiting for a crescendo of cries that you’d grown used to in the last four months. When silence settled back in, you both seemed to exhale in relief. You wanted to eat and finish this conversation before JJ ultimately showered and fell asleep until Willow’s usual one a.m. wake up.

“Whatever you want.” He replied, never submitting to making the decision for you when you wanted him to. “Not exactly like your family’s a big of me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you bumped his hip with your own, kissing his cheek. “Not like you totally corrupted their youngest daughter or anything.”

“Oh no, do not blame that on me.”

“I didn’t run away to marry myself.”

“If you go...” JJ posed, turning to follow you to the table, “do you want to go alone?”

You stood frozen in place, holding a box of cereal in your hand as you stared across the small expanse of Heyward’s shop, your dad there by the fresh produce, comparing two different apples with each other. The Outer Banks was a small island but you ran in very different circles and, in the three years that you’d been home, had avoided seeing your parents. Or anyone in your family.

You’d driven passed the baptist church, a sign boasting a new assistant pastor, one of your brothers, when you’d first moved back but hadn’t actually seen anyone. The possibility of seeing them again had been a long debate between you and JJ when you’d finally decided to leave Florida for North Carolina. It had been hard in the very beginning, missing birthdays and anniversaries and new babies, but over time the ache had dulled and you had shifted your attention away from what you were missing and focused on working through the things you could heal in yourself.

Now you were frozen. If you left your basket of groceries now you could make a beeline for the door and be out before he saw you. But then the bell above the door rattled as a customer came in and the baby swaddled against your chest started to fuss. Before you could attempt to placate her, your dad was looking over. For a moment you were certain he didn’t recognize you. Ten years was a long time. But then his mouth quirked into a frown and he set down the apples he was holding.

“Ace?” He questioned, the old nickname feeling foreign to you. It’d probably been ten years since anyone called you that.

“Hey, dad.” You nodded your head at him across the small store. You felt like tacking on a ‘surprise’ for good measure. ‘Surprise, I’m in the OBX, surprise, I got a kid...’

“When did you uh, when did you come home?” He moved across the store to be near you though he refrained from reaching out for a hug. You wondered if a decade had been just as hard on him as it had on you. Cathartic and healthy and freeing but hard. He seemed more mellow, you thought that before he might’ve pulled out a bible and started admonishing you.

“JJ and I moved back three years ago,” you admitted, slipping his name into the conversation as if to prove a point. “He got a job on a fishing rig.”

“Will you...would you come to church? We could have lunch afterward. Or you could just be there?” He offered. Ten years hadn’t changed his beliefs at all but it had made him miss you. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing felt like an ache in his chest that never went away. The anger had subsided to sadness and guilt.

Seeing your dad had been startling enough and you had almost wished, while you were standing there in Heyward’s, that JJ could’ve been with you. Though, you weren’t entirely sure that would’ve helped anything in the long run.

“I think my mom would probably be nicer to me if I brought Wills but maybe, I mean, my dad already saw her. He didn’t ask about her but maybe...” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Why didn’t we stay in Florida?”

“Cause we both spent seven years talking about how much we wanted to come back to the OBX...and my dad-”

“Jay.”

“Look. My dad was an asshole okay, he was a fucking nightmare but you know better than anyone that not getting to see him at the end...that was the worst call I’ve ever gotten in my life. Knowing Ricky was the only one up here and that he was alone. You should do whatever you want to do and I’ll be there, right next to you, just like I’ve been for ten years, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.” JJ replied, honestly.

You nodded, looking down at the plate of food and pushing your fried rice around. You knew that JJ was still hurting, that gutting a house didn’t take away all the memories that were trapped inside. “God I hate when you’re right.” You sighed.

“Don’t let your dad hear you talk like that.” He teased just as the monitor went off again, this time for real. You leaned against the back of the chair and groaned as JJ stood up. “I got it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.” You stood too. “You need a shower, and sleep.”

“I haven’t seen her all day,” JJ pointed out, following you down the short hallway to the bedroom that used to be his. It was painted in yellows and oranges now, with a crib and a rocking chair and baby books. A sunset mural painted on the wall from Kiara’s girlfriend and a chandelier of stars from Sarah.

“What are you gonna do, take her in the shower with you?” You joked, lifting the fussing baby up out of her crib, “hey bubba, what’s the matter?”

“You have to feed her right? So feed her in the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, Jay, that’s super comfortable for me. I would love to feed her while I sit on the toilet.” You grumbled, already knowing that you would probably, definitely end up caving to him and doing exactly that.

“I’ll put dinner away and do the dishes.” He promised, “and I’ll punch you’ll dad if he says anything to piss you off.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #collecting stories imagine #you are ok series

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poisoned-peppermint · 3 years ago

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Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it

Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech

George: See also, esteemed bastards

Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids.

Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws

~~~~~~~

Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors

Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum

Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same

~~~~~~~

Foolish:When's your bedtime :)

Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods

~~~~~~

Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons

Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout

~~~~~~

Bad:You’re enough

Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~

Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.

~~~~~~

Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work

Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone

Bad: wait for you to get back

~~~~~~

Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in

Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch

~~~~~~

Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish

Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep

Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall

Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.

Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.

~~~~~~

Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out

~~~~~~

Quackity: If I were dating you? Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore

Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!

~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you ok?

Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like

~~~~~~

Sam: My hands are cold

Ponk: *holds their hands*

Ponk: better?

Sam: My lips are cold too

~~~~~~

George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?

Sapnap: of course *leaves*

George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.

Dream: yeah no shit

~~~~~~

Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.

Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?

Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you

~~~~~~

Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.

~~~~~~

Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*

Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate

Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*

Skeppy: No!

~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know

Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!

Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?

Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!

~~~~~~

Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you

~~~~~~

Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)

Wilbur: that’s a turtle

Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

~~~~~~

Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it

Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended

Ranboo: No

Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

~~~~~~

Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

~~~~~~

Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

Bad: Sex.

Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.

Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.

Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Ant: Food.

Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?

Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.

Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!

~~~~~~~

Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?

Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.

~~~~~~

Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re pathetic!

Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!

Techno: You’re both losers.

~~~~~~

Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

Skeppy: Bad, please!

Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

~~~~~~

Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?

Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.

~~~~~~

Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

~~~~~~

Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!

Bad: LANGUAGE!!

~~~~~~

Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.

Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!

Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*

Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

~~~~~~

Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

~~~~~~

Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.

Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*

~~~~~~

Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Puffy: Where did you get that?.

Bad: My pocket.

Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Bad: Skills.

~~~~~~

Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.

Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Quackity: Spiders?

Bad: Spiders it is then.

Quackity: No, that wasn’t-

*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…

~~~~~~

Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.

Punz : Break her bed not her heart.

Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings.

Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.

Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Tommy: Bet you I can!

Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~~~~~~~

Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?

Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.

Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

~~~~~~~~

Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!

Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.

Pummel party Squad: …

Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

~~~~~~~~

Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Phil:

Phil: Why are you eating dirt?

Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.

Tubbo: You don’t even know.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!

Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!

Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.

Skeppy: WAIT NO!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?

Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.

Bad: Good, because I hate you

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you a painting?

Skeppy: What-?

Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?

Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.

Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Tommy: I earned this, back off!

~~~~~~

Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-

George: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dream: How’d you know?

George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

George: I even picked it up once

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*

Bad: Aw. :(

Skeppy: You know what they say.

Bad: Please don’t-

Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

Bad: Frick-

~~~~~~~~

let me know if ya’ll want more <3

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queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years ago

Text

Teddy

Notes: This is my entry for @pagesoflauren Prompts:

So, this is love” from “So This is Love” by Ilene Woods and Mike Douglas from Cinderella

“Um, you...you fight good.” from Mulan

“This reminded me of you.”

Warnings: 18 +Only, dark themes, Dubious consent due to alcohol consumption, drunken sex, fingering, out door sex

Summary: a corporate event turns into hazy regret

Dark(maybe more grey) CEO Steve x Reader

🐻

Why they decided to hold a corporate event in the middle of the work week was beyond you. But you could only blame yourself for the alcohol consumption you partook in. Your head and body ached. You had taken a few aspirin before getting to work, but it didn't sooth the pains rippling through your body. Last night was a fog that you could barely piece together, but you weren't worried. You had made it home safe and your office mates had not blown up your phone with anything salacious.

You frowned at the continuous slowed traffic at your cubical when you approached. When you spotted the source you were surprised. A sweet little box with an oversized bow sat on top of your keyboard with a tiny little note. Your coworkers all past your station giggling amongst themselves as they spied it. You felt the heat of all the attention permeate your face as you rushed to stash it away.

Taking your seat before your monitor you hid the parcel. You waited patiently until you felt no one was paying you any mind. Had someone miss placed this? Curious you read the note. “This reminded me of you.” Flipping it over no name.

You untie the bow and opened it carefully.

"Did you like it?" Steve's sudden voice made you bristle.

You fumble with the box, dropping it, spilling the contents as he leaned on your cubical wall.

"Um sorry?" you looked at him confused.

"I was thinking of getting rid of this thing, but now"

he scratched at his beard as you wrinkled your brow at him. His name was called before he could clarify his point. The distraction pulled him away, but not before he shot you a sly wink.

That was strange.

With him away you reached down to pick up the fallen gift. You rose slowly lifting a new coffee mug, turning it you see a yellow cartoon teddy bear smiling at you.

Your eyes grew round as a flood of memories drowned you. Flashes of the night before filled in gaps you had brushed off until now.

🐻

The night before

You were an expert at avoiding company events, but when the email read mandatory you groaned. The biannual event was a must for all employees foreign and domestic.

You didn't hate your company, you actually loved it. Everyone was friendly, it was a stark contrast to the cut throat companies you were used to. It was just that social events made you feel painfully awkward.

The venue was massive. Every odd person asked which office you worked in and what department you belonged to. You smiled and made short talk as you searched for a place to hide until the event was over. It was very draining, being an introvert you could only handle so much social interaction.

The corporate sponsored libations helped get you through the most part. Snatching a drink from every waiter that passed with a tray. It was an easy, trick gulp down the glass then motion to the empty cup before departing the group signaling you are going to find more. An easy out that had you buzzed, but you felt as though you were holding together well. When you found your hiding spot you breathed easier, taking the seat hidden behind a column, you played with your phone until the event whined down.

"Hey your in accounting right?"

You looked up from the phone to find John Walker. He smiled softly, slipping into the empty seat next to you. "Oh no, sorry.."

"Why are you hiding away by yourself?" He cut you off. You reached for your half empty flute and took a big gulp. Swallowing it down before tapping the glass, signaling your exit just as he began to crowd you into the corner space.

"How do you like it here?" He asked you another question stifling your exit. You could feel his breath on your face as you tried to lean away, but his arm stretched out pulling you closer.

A yelp escaped your lips when his other hand found your thigh. You don't want to cause a scene, but you want him to give you space. Your hiding space was too good. No one noticed or cared that you were trapped by a fellow colleague. "I need to-"

John pulled you down when you tried to stand and excuse yourself. "Hey" the scent of his drink finally hit your nose. "You cant leave before we cheers." His grip on you felt so firm that you worried if you upset him, his smile seemed strained and his eyes roamed you uncomfortably. John suddenly lifted the hand from your shoulder and snapped his fingers in the air, signaling a server to bring more drinks to the table. "One more drink huh? Bad luck not to cheers with everyone you know?"

You gripped your phone so hard you felt it imprint on your palm. You just wanted to go home. When the serve dropped the glasses John pushed one at you. To appease him you took it. Maybe he would leave after this. He raised his glass and you did the same. "To a fruitful quarter."

You murmured and repeated him. The glasses clinked before you both took a drink. This drink hit you harder than before, but you chugged it down anyway.

When John finished his glass he cloaked you. His eyes filled with a hunger that had you leaning further back into the back of your chair. He kept coming so close no matter how you shifted in your seat to gain distance. "Please I need to go home" you begged as he roamed up your skirt.

When his eyes bulged you were confused before you felt relief. John fell away from you, hitting the floor hard as a hulk of a man appeared standing over him. John did not appreciate it, hopping to his feet. You tried to stand yourself, but the room spun and swayed with such force you fell back on your seat. John and your savior blurred as you try to focus. You squinted as John pushed back on the stranger only to find his chin connecting with a right hook. His body fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes as you watched everything in slow motion.

It was so surreal seeing John laid out. You looked up to see the founder standing above him. Steve Rogers was the man behind the knockout punch. You snorted, laughing loudly at the ridiculousness. There was no way you saw that correctly.

He turned his attention to you, mouthing words at you, but you couldn't understand them. People began to crowd around John and your table. You were becoming the center of attention and that filled you with an urge to escape.

"I want to go home." You whimpered lowly, as you found it hard to move with so many people around. You reached your limit, there were too many eyes, too many voices, you felt trapped yet again.

"Where do you live?" His voice cut through everyone else. It sounded so concerned yet sweet it set you at ease. You slurred out the destination as he helped you up from the seat.

He felt so warm, firm and safe that you couldn't help, but cuddle into his side as he guided you out.

Your eyes started to feel heavy as your body floated along. “Um, you...you fight good.” you blurted out making him chuckle. "Thank you" you slurred out the complement. Your yawn muffled his response as your eyes closed and you slipped into sleep.

🐻

Your head lolled on the back of the leather seat as a chill nipped at your body. "It's too cold" you groaned missing the warmth that sent you to slumber.

"I miss warm" you whined tilting your head to the side, squinting at the blurry blob that resembled the sun. You reached out to find the source of warmth, but got jerked back by a restraint, you grumbled and frowned when you found a seat belt.

"Hey sleepy head." It sounded like Mr.Rogers. You had heard his voice many times over many corporate calls and monthly meetings, but that was preposterous. There was no way the high powered CEO was talking to you.

"Give me warm" you whined again, your eyes still heavy as you tried to focus on their face. You attempted once more to reach your hand out, this time your finger tips clumsily grazed over a nose before trailing up to gelled hair. "Oop. Watch it you almost blinded me there." He laughed lightly as the car swerved a bit. "Ok ok settled down I'll turn on the AC." The click and whoosh of the heater elevated the chill a bit.

"Sorry I run a little hot. Does this help?"

You hummed with delight as a warm hand reached out to glide up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. Your fingers played in the sleeked geld locks. Your thighs absorb the warmth of his hand as he kneaded your skin.

"You have arrived at your destination" the robotic voice announced.

"Yay!" Clapping your hands together ready to go to bed.

"Don't like parties huh?"

"I like home better." You yawned still very tired.

"Yeah me too" he agreed as the warm hand in your lap left. You whimpered in disappointment as a car door opened and closed. You stayed lazy sat in place too tired to move, closing your eyes welcoming sleep once again.

"Come on let's get you home." He grunted as he reached over you, waking you slightly. The smell of his cologne filled your nose as you heard the distinct click of your seat belt and feel of the strap slide away.

"Who are you?" You genuinely inquired.

He pulled you from the seat and stood you up against the car. Your body sagged, but he kept you standing. "Don't remember me, huh?" He huffed dragging you out. "Steve. Steve Rogers." He told you as he tried to keep you steady while closing the door.

"Your face is soo fluffy" you giggled as you grabbed at his beard. "No! Your not Steve! Your teddy" you dubbed shouting at him, cupping his face as you brought him closer. "You feel so good teddy."

"You think so?" Steve chuckled excepting his new nickname.

Stepping closer he pressed his weight on you and chuckled, boxing you between him and the car. "Fluffy teddy bear man" you giggled again as his cologne once again invaded your nose.

"You smell good too" you confessed as he leaned closer. His lips tilted into a devilish grin as you leaned forward to inhale along his neck. His strong hands held your hips before squeezing when you licked at him. "Tasted good too."

"Bad girl." Steve admonished leaning away from you. "Bad teddy" you frowned, pulling him closer by his blazer. "Keep me warm teddy." You pouted.

"Like that?" Steve questioned as his palms slipped down your waist then road up your thigh. You gasped when he ascended up and under your skirt. You nodded 'yes' allowing his brazened hand to slip into your panties, cupping your mound. The car rocked a bit as he leaned all his weight on you, sinking into you. His bristly beard hairs tickled your neck as you panted wildly into the cold air.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" Steve asked trailing up and over your lips. You moan a 'yes' into his mouth while you pushed into his palm urging him on.

Steve tried to pull his hand from you, but you squeezed your thighs together, not allowing him to retreat. "No teddy don't leave" you begged pouting. Steve smiled at the nickname while plunging deep in your core, curling his digits inside of you.

Your skirt road high off your ass and you felt the chill of the door on your exposed cheeks. You didn't care, you just wanted more. Lifting your leg Steve hooked it around his waist. "I love you teddy" you proclaimed drunk off his touch.

"Oh yeah" he growled in your ear, sending fire down your neck as he kissed you all over. You felt your panties pushed to the side as he pressed his sheathed need on you.

"Ummm mmm" you hummed eager for him to do more. Steve steady you with one hand while his other fumbled with the front of his pants. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your hips pushed forward. Waiting impatiently you bite your lip giving him a pleading look. "Love you so much teddy."

"So this is love?" Steve swirled his cock in your juices, teasing as he pressed hard along your eagerness. "Don't tease" you slapped at him frowning. "You want teddy to love you?" he groaned pressing his tip hard against your entrance. You nod 'yes' and hiss as his cock slowly stretched you open. You welcomed the strain while another warmth burst from your core. Your fingers tangled in his hair while Steve kissed you passionately. You panted wildly as Steve picked up speed, rutting you against the car door. "So this..." Steve stretched out each word, thrusting into you hard and deep, your slick him thoroughly. You chanted 'yes' allowing him to rut you against the car. Steve's thickness made you quiver. Despite being out in the world it felt as if you were the only two left on earth. "This is love" he sighed pushing as deep as he could go.

The warmth of him exploded all around you, melting you into him deliciously. You dissolved into him, slipping mindlessly into ecstasy.

🐻

#dark steve x black reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x black!reader #dark steve x reader #black writer #pagesoflauren3000challenge

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inskz · 4 years ago

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

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nbrook29 · 4 years ago

Note

23/ 25/ 31/ 69/ 85/114/142 so ... Any combination of any no. Of the above or any One tbh just you're free to do absolutely whatever... even refuse •́ ‿ ,•̀. 🤍

Hi there! I chose:

31. “Kiss me.”

142. Did you really think I’d leave?”

This is basically a part 2 to my hearts beats for you that was also written for a dialogue prompt a few months ago 😇

Warning: very mild sexual content

* * *

Robbe enters Sander’s bedroom quietly, trying not to make a sound and cringing at the squeak the wooden door releases, but one look in the direction of the big bed and he can see Sander already awake, a poorly hidden surprise on his face.

“Got you a bunch of cinnamon rolls and those disgusting mango flavored ice cream you love so much,” Robbe shakes the plastic bag with a grin, dumping it on the nightstand before adding with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I had to fight a Karen for the last box of these so you’re welcome.” He leans in for a quick kiss that lingers for longer than he planned, hand cradling Sander’s warm from sleep cheek.

They’ve always been a touchy-feely couple, but ever since the accident Robbe has become even more clingy, the emotions and fear in him still too raw and fresh, making him crave extra closeness.

Sander leans into the touch, moving his head a little to place a small kiss on Robbe’s palm once they break apart. “You went shopping?”

He nods, thumb sweeping gently the skin under his eye. “Yeah, I thought I’ll surprise you with a snack after you wake up.”

"Oh.”

Sander darts a look at him, surprise still etched into his face and not the kind Robbe was hoping for.

“What, did you think I left or something?” he jokes, but it falls flat when he sees Sander’s guilty face. “Sander...”

“I just, “ Sander takes his hand in his and starts playing with his fingers, eyes full of regret when he returns Robbe’s gaze, “I know I’ve been difficult most of the time these past few days, and today I was a grumpy asshole the whole morning so I thought maybe you finally had enough, not that I could blame you,” he rolls his eyes on himself, scoffing. “Sorry for being a douche,” he adds and pauses, looking torn, but eventually presses a soft kiss on Robbe’s lips in apology. “And thank you for putting up with me.”

Robbe scoots forward at his words, opening his arms and gathering his sheepish boyfriend into them.

“Come here.”

Sander goes willingly, burrowing his face in his favorite spot on Robbe’s neck, his breath tickling his skin, but it’s okay, especially when he feels a featherlight kiss Sander leaves there, like he always does, the temptation too strong to ever resist.

“I’m really sorry,” he mumbles again before relaxing into the embrace with a content sigh.

“Babe, I think you’re being a little too hard on yourself, you really haven’t been as bad as you make it seem. And I don’t exactly expect you to be all smiles with a broken leg and being in pain.”

Sander huffs a quiet laugh, pulling back from Robbe’s neck to look at him properly. “Have I told you you’re an angel yet?”

“Might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Robbe replies with feigned-smugness. “Now, kiss me and you’re forgiven.”

Sander complies without putting up a fight, raises his head asking silently for Robbe to kiss him instead because he doesn’t want to move too much.

Before they get too into it, Robbe remembers the ice cream that’s probably melting right next to them and he ignores Sander’s displeased whine at the abrupt cut to their makeout session to get up and bring him a spoon. As soon as he’s back and picks up the bag again, Sander’s forgotten all about the kiss and is now making grabby hands at the freezing container.

“Gimme.”

Robbe grins cheekily, holding the box out of Sander’s reach. “Say please.”

“Robbe, love of my life, the meaning to my days, please give me the fucking ice cream.”

“So rude,” Robbe tsks, shaking his head with disapproval, but hands him the gift, chuckling at Sander’s quiet “Yesss!” as he grabs the box with a childlike enthusiasm.

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

Robbe drops back on the bed, lips twitching when he immediately finds himself with arms full of his boyfriend again, who’s wiggling his butt to make himself more comfortable as he takes the first huge bite.

The exaggerated moan he lets out sounds so indecent Robbe widens his eyes, shooting a worrying glance at the door not knowing whether Sander’s mom is home. He swats at his arm when he sees his gleeful expression, realizing Sander did that on purpose.

“What?” he asks innocently, sucking on his spoon.

“Do it again and I’ll take it away,” Robbe threatens, Sander’s brows creasing as he hugs the box to his chest with a pout.

“Calm down, nobody’s home except for us.”

“Want some?” he asks a moment later, offering a full spoon of yellow gooiness to Robbe who scrunches up his face. He has a sweet tooth though so he decides to give the flavor one more chance and immediately regrets it as soon Sander feeds him the ice cream, giggling at his retching sounds.

“Oh my god this is so gross, how the fuck can you eat that, yuck.” He keeps wincing in disgust as Sander devours spoon after spoon, enjoying every second. Soon, he empties out the box, scrubbing at the bottom to make sure he ate every last drop before dropping back on his pillow with a satisfied smile.

Robbe tries to suppress his laughter, but it slips out anyway. At Sander’s questioning gaze, he explains, “I think I’m getting jealous of that ice cream cause you have the same look on your face right now that you get after I make you come.”

Sander shrugs, unabashed. “It’s a close second.”

“Me or ice cream?!”

“Ice cream, duuuh. We both know you don’t have competition in making me satisfied,” he bites on his thumb teasingly, and that particular move never fails to remind Robbe of their lockdown activities.

Fuck, he feels so pent up, repressing any urges for the past week when Sander’s level of pain was too high to even think about sex.

Needless to say, he takes the bait easily.

“Oh really?”

He suppresses the chuckle at the way Sander’s eyes light up when he sees the opportunity right in front of him.

“Oh yeah, you’re like, the best,” he keeps buttering him up, voice full of hope, as if Robbe needed any special encouragement to make a move.

He pulls away from him and throws his leg over his hips in a swift move, hovering over him, delighting in the way Sander’s breath hitches.

“Do you think you’re up for it though?” Robbe breaks his teasing for a second, shooting a worrying glance at Sander’s covered in cast leg.

“Ohmygodyes, I’m so up for it you have no idea,” Sander breathes into his mouth, looping his arms around his neck and effectively trapping him in case Robbe wanted to slink away, and it looks like Robbe has not been the only one sexually frustrated around here. “I’ve been celibate for a week, Robin, I’m dying here.”

The loud whine he lets out and a full body shudder that goes through him when Robbe slowly rolls his hips against his is a proof of his words.

“Any special requests?” He runs the tip of his nose along Sander’s, cleft finger traveling down Sander’s chest to graze his nipples, smiling when Sander’s breathing gets heavier with his ministrations.

“I was thinking,” he purrs, sticking his tongue to lick teasingly along Robbe’s pliant lips, “since I’m injured,” another pause to give him a short open-mouthed kiss, “and can’t really move much,” hands moving up Robbe’s thighs, stopping on his hips and squeezing, “you could ride me,” only to pull him down harder and make his eyelids flutter at the sudden pressure.

And, well, Robbe is eager to please so he leans down, mouth grazing the shell of Sander’s ear, whispering, “You got it.”

***

Robbe takes another bite and munches happily on his cinnamon roll as he cuddles more into Sander’s chest, feeling his fingers stroking up and down his arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake on his cooling skin. He tears a big chunk off and offers it to Sander, hand reaching blindly up in search of his mouth and missing, the boy snorting when he feels the sticky sugar on his cheek.

“Wow, I think I fucked you stupid,” Sander’s cheeky remark is met with a poke in his ribs making him let out a choked sound before he grabs Robbe’s hand and steers it in the right direction. He takes the offered food but not without biting at Robbe’s fingers in the process just to be a little shit. It earns him a squeak and another poke, and then another, this time a harder one because Robbe is a menace if he puts his mind to it. Sander manages to poke him back a few times, aiming for tickling spots and a few seconds later his bedroom is filled with his favorite sound in the world, aka Robbe’s giggling.

Once they settle down, Robbe’s face red with laughter, he combs his fingers through the bleached strands, eyes going soft as they stop at the still healing cut on Sander’s brow, thumb brushing gently under it.

“Shower?”

“Noooo, I’m comfy now, don’t wanna move.”

“But we’re gross and sticky,” Robbe tries to reason with him, but he already knows he’s going to give in and stay in bed for the time being, Sander’s killer puppy eyes melting any resolve he has.

“‘S okay, I don’t mind being gross and sticky with you, come here.” Robbe lies back on Sander’s chest without putting up a fight, not really ready to leave their safe cocoon either. “Don’t worry, I’ll still let you play nurse IJzermans later today,” Sander pats him consolingly on the back, chest vibrating with laughter at Robbe’s scoff and blushing cheeks.

#wtfock #my fics

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toh-writings · 3 years ago

Text

Fortunes of Love Pt 4 (Eda x OC)

Summary:

Everyone tries to figure out how exactly to handle Owl Beast Eda. Or, at the very least, get her to not kill them.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

The house was dark, all the curtains drawn, and not even hooty made a sound. The door opened with only the slightest of creaks, but it was drowned out by Eda’s loud snoring. Two heads peaked through the door, taking in the form of the sleeping beast.

“So… That’s Eda?” Niliana asked. King nodded. “Alright then.” They closed the door gently and Niliana began pacing, trying to think up a plan. She didn’t really know anything about… well, any of this! She didn’t know anything about curses, beasts, how she was supposed to act around something like Eda in her owl form, how she was supposed to handle any of this. But she promised to help and she couldn’t let anyone get hurt. She sighed.

“Alright, first thing first, we DON’T wake her up. No one is going to react well being startled awake like that. Can you handle that?”

“Of course! That I can do! I just won’t go inside. Ever.”

Niliana just looked at him for a moment.

“That… seems unreasonable, but okay. I’m going to sit inside with Eda. When Luz gets back, make sure you warn her and tell her to be quiet.”

“Can do!” King gave a mock salute before running off. He sat underneath one of the nearby trees. Once he was settled he gave Nily a little wave. She sighed through her nose, turning away so he wouldn’t see the look of exasperation on her face. Once again, she opened the door, closing it behind her softly.

She took in the room for a moment, taking note of anything that looked important and fragile. She didn’t want anything of Eda’s to break. Thankfully, nothing of the sort was in sight. She decided it was best to take her boots off at the door, putting them to the side neatly. She left her staff by the door as well, leaning against the wall. Her footsteps were padded by the dense carpet as she made her way to the couch, having to scoot around the giant feathery being that took up quite a bit of the room. She sat with a sigh, propping her elbow on her leg and resting her chin in her hand. For a moment she just watched Eda sleep, thinking.

She didn’t know a lot about Edalyn Clawthorne. Sure, they went to school together and were in the same track, but their interactions were minimal. At the time she was definitely one of the quiet kids. She largely kept to herself and was honestly afraid of being noticed, especially by her fellow students. To her, Eda was the most confusing person. Who would ever want to cause that much trouble on purpose? Who would want to have so many eyes on her, constantly watching and judging? She acted like it was nothing! Like it didn’t even matter what others thought of her. All she cared about was having fun and enjoying herself.

When she was younger, Niliana almost hated her for it. She went through her days doing everything within her power to avoid the other girl, actively taking routes through the halls that she was least likely to be in, walking away whenever she spotted the familiar splash of orange hair, all of that. She cringes now just thinking about it. She regretted so much of her childhood and one of her greatest regrets was not realizing just how much she actually admired Eda until she had already left. She regretted not reaching out and at least trying to be her friend.

Well, her Mama always said it’s better late than never.

She froze when the beast let out an odd sound, a soft chirping of some sort. She shifted in her spot, curling up a little more, before going still once more. It was a few more minutes before Niliana let herself relax. She realized it may be some time before Eda actually woke up. Owls were nocturnal creatures, after all, and she looked rather comfortable.

She waved her hand, forming a teal circle in the air. From the circle materialized a wooden box, settling in her lap. She opened it, rummaging through till she found what she was searching for, a large piece of fabric, one of the ones. Eda had gotten for her from the human realm. She found the needle she had also stashed away and got to work.

Sure, she could have made her stuffed animals with magic. She knew how well enough. But there was something about making something with her hands that relaxed her, the repeated motion of the needle moving through the fabric, watching something form from nothing but pieces of cloth. It made her swell to see the final product come out well, and she loved it even more to see others enjoy her cute little animals. It was the thought that something she so enjoyed making could bring joy to others as well.

It was a couple of hours later when she heard the front door open again. Luz poked her head through cautiously, looking uncertain. King was close behind her, looking just as uncertain. Nily sighed, putting her work away. She’d have to come back to it later. She got to her feet and made her way to the door, ushering the two away so she could actually get through the door.

“Is Eda really stuck like that for FIVE DAYS?!” Luz said almost immediately, clinging onto the witch’s arm. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, just staring up at Nily with her big brown eyes. The witch smiled kindly at her, giving the girl a hug. She clung to her shoulders, body shaking.

“Yes, she is,” Nily admitted. “But it’s not forever. Only a few days and she’ll be back. Until then, I know we can figure it out.” Luz nodded, stepping back and wiping at her eyes. “Hey.” The girl looked up to her again. “It’s going to be okay.” The girl smiled, reassured. Nily smiled back, ruffling her hair.

“Alright, you two.” Nily said, standing up a bit straighter with her hands on her hips. “Eda is still sleeping and probably will be till night. It’s probably best if we don’t wake her, so you can either stay outside or come inside and be very quiet. Once she does wake up, we’ll need to be very careful until we’re sure she’s not going to be attacking anybody. If she does try something, then I’ll … I’ll just have to trap her with my magic until we find a way to calm her down. Sound good?”

They both nodded, looking determined. She nodded back.

“Alright. I’m going back inside for now. I’ll probably be starting dinner soon, too, so don’t go too far.”

She headed back to the house, two pairs of footsteps following her a moment later. They all entered the house quietly. Nily sat back on the couch, taking out her wooden box once more. While she did that, King and Luz quietly watched the sleeping form of Eda’s owl form. A was a bit before they seemed to gain the courage to walk past her and head for the hallway past the far end of the couch.

“I’m going to do some homework.” Luz whispered. Nily nodded and watched the girl vanish into the hall. King looked like he was about to follow but stopped, glancing back to Eda, then to Nily, then back to the hall. In the end, he climbed onto the couch, curling up next to the witch for a good nap. She smiled softly at that, petting his back before taking out her project.

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

Eda stirred, giving a big yawn and stretching, her wings brushing against the sealing and claws digging into the carpet. She shook out her feathers, letting out a humming sound, and looked around, sniffing the air.

Home.

But there was a sound, odd and unfamiliar. There was an odd smell in the air, meaty and hot, and underneath the smell of another creature. She started growling.

Not safe! Intruder! Protect my home! Leave!

She followed the smell through the dark house, her fangs bared and a snarl in her throat. It was nearby, so close, but the room was shrouded in light, far too bright for her to see properly. She screeched at the bright light, shutting her eyes and shaking her head, but she refused to back up. She may not be able to see, but she could still smell the intruder easy enough and hear them move. They were backing up from her and she could almost taste the fear.

She snarled at them, taking a step forward. There wasn’t enough room in her current spot to attack properly. She could feel the walls against her wings even when they pressed close to her body. The intruder made a sound, soft and non-threatening, but Eda didn’t care. She just wanted them out!

She squeezed her way out of her tiny spot, into the open room where she could move better. It still wasn’t ideal, she couldn’t stretch her wings out properly, but she was in a much better position. She could easily pounce or swipe at them and that was enough.

For a moment she stayed frozen, body tense as she listened intently. She tried opening her eyes, just enough to squint at her surroundings. It was difficult, but she could just make out a dark shape that moved slightly. She lunged, hands coming down on the empty floor. She whipped around, searching. She could hear the stumbling footsteps to her side and swiped at the sound, snarling and screeching at it. She heard them stumble back with a yelp. They were moving farther away, towards the darker room.

She kept pushing them back. If she could get them in the dark, she could see her target better. It was almost too easy, but she was finally able to open her eyes without them burning. The room she had woken up in was covered in cool darkness and she could see the invader clearly. They were one of those two-legged creatures, the ones that seemed incapable of just leaving her alone.

Her ears twitched. She could hear more footsteps nearby, stomping and loud. She screeched, whipping around to face the new intruders, another slightly smaller two-legged creature and a tiny demon. It only took her a quick look over for her to decide they weren’t as much of a threat as the first intruder. So she turned back to them, body tensing to pounce.

There was a flash of light, a circle in the air and instinct told her that wasn’t good, that the circle spelled her doom. So she tried to pounce, to stop them, only to abruptly run into a wall. She growled and huffed, shaking her head, ready to attack again.

But she couldn’t.

Around her was an orb of light, tinting the world a shade of teal. She was trapped.

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

Niliana let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Well, that was certainly something.

“Nily!”

Luz and King ran to her, wrapping their arms around her. Well, King did his best but ended up hugging her leg instead. She hugged them back.

“It’s okay guys, I’m fine.” She reassured them. “Eda’s fine, too.”

On cue, they heard the owl beast screech and turned to see her trying to fight against her bubble prison. She stopped struggling after a few moments, glaring at them with her big black eyes.

“I think I’ll just leave her in there for a little bit. We can see if she’s calmed down after dinner.”

“We can try feeding her!” Luz offered, eyes shining.

“Mmmm, maybe. We’ll see if she’s calmed down first.”

“Is something burning?” King interrupted them. Nily sighed.

“Probably. I left dinner on the stove.”

She left to finish that, leaving the other two to do whatever they chose to do. They ended up staying in the living room for only a few moments before following her into the kitchen. The owl beast in a bubble was definitely an odd sight, one King was more than happy to poke fun at, but ultimately they decided her best chance at calming down would be leaving her alone for now.

Dinner that night was probably the best they had in quite a while. As much as they loved Eda, she was not much of a cook. King was shoveling the food, some sort of meat and vegetable concoction, straight into his mouth, the fork lying forgotten on the table. Luz wasn’t much better, but at least she used utensils. The girl went on and on about her day at school, excitedly recounting an incident where an abomination went rogue. Her arms flung about as she retold the story, almost hitting King in her excitement several times. Each time he made a noise of annoyance.

Nily did her best to listen, but truthfully her mind was elsewhere. She could still hear Eda in the other room, huffing and chittering to herself, probably still attempting to escape her confinement. She had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to get through to her. She had thought she would have at least the vaguest of ideas when she saw how exactly Eda acted in this form, but nope. In this moment she really wished she had bothered at least a little bit of beast keeping. Maybe she should visit the library tomorrow and check out a few books. Of course, that didn’t help with tonight.

King finished first, but he was determined not to go into the living room alone, so he waited until Luz was done. And Luz didn’t want to go until Niliana was done and could go with them. So, they all went in together. The lights turned on as they entered the room.

Eda laid still in her bubble, looking rather downtrodden. It appeared that she had given up on the whole escape thing. Her eyes were on them the moment they left the kitchen, her fangs bared at them. Niliana sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. She really hadn’t expected her day to turn out like this. She stared at the creature who stared right back. She seemed to dislike her the most, which was at least a little comforting. It meant that she wouldn’t go after Luz or King first.

“She’s not calm enough yet.” Nily decided.

“So, what do we do? Eda can’t just stay in a bubble for five days!” Luz looked up to her for answers. So, she thought. They needed Eda to at least withstand their presence.

“Maybe we should try … just spending some time around her.” Niliana said. “Maybe if she just got use to us being around then she can just ignore us.”

“I had some glyphs I wanted to practice! Hold on!” She rushed off, stumbling up the stairs, no doubt to collect her work. Thankfully, Niliana had her own stuff to work on as well. She sat on the couch and got her box back out. King jumped onto the couch by her side, watching her get all her supplies out.

“Soooo…” He piped up. “Whatcha making? A minion of evil?!”

“It’s going to be an owl.”

King scoffed.

“That doesn’t look anything like an owl! Where's its wings? Or its feet?”

“I’m not yet. This is just the head. I just need to finish attaching the beak then I can sew on the eyes.”

“Wait, that’s just the head!” King said, astonished. The bundle of fabric she had was almost as big as King’s own head! Nily just nodded.

“I haven’t made something this big in a while.” She admitted.

It was around then that they could hear Luz stomping back down the stairs, running into the living room with a bright smile and her arms full of papers. She dropped them on the floor, plopping herself next to the couch.

“Watch this!” She said, grabbing a piece of paper and drawing a glyph on it. She gave it a tap and the paper crumbled into itself, morphing into a ball of light. Nily gave an impressed “huh”. She didn’t even know humans could do magic. Though, it made sense. Eda wouldn’t have taken her on as an apprentice if she didn’t think it was possible.

King tugged on Nily’s shirt.

“Hey, hey, look at Eda!” he said, giggling to himself.

Eda was staring intently at the ball of light, enraptured by the shiny orb. She gave a curious little chirp, squishing her face into her bubble to try and get closer. Luz laughed at the sight and Nily couldn’t help but let out her own little chuckle.

“Do owls like shiny things?” She pondered. King just shrugged.

“I don’t know, but Eda does!”

She thought that over as Luz made a few more balls of lights, looking delighted as Eda chirped and followed each orb with her black eyes, their light reflected in the inky depths. Finally, she nodded to herself.

“I think I’m gonna let her go now.” She warned the others as she drew a circle in the air. They didn’t really have time to respond before the bubble silently popped, dropping the owl beast to the floor with a soft thump. For a moment, they all tensed up, waiting to see what Eda would do.

She let out a coo, ruffling her feathers and shaking her head. She turned those inky black eyes to the three of them, head tilted to the side. It looked like she was thinking, face scrunching up. She got to her feet, taking a step towards them and sniffing the air. For a moment she just stared, eyes roaming from one to the next. Finally, what seemed like hours later but was probably just seconds, she turned away from them, her attention drawn back to the balls of light. She batted at one of them, letting out a little coo.

Everyone relaxed, the tension in the air dissolving. Luz smiled up at Niliana, eyes shimmering with the threat of tears. She didn’t say anything but the witch understood, smiling back.

Everything was going to be okay.

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puckrph · 4 years ago

Text

' THE FOOL IN HER WEDDING GOWN ' SENTENCE STARTERS

taken from the crane wives' 2012 album. feel free to change pronouns, etc.

ICARUS

' climb higher, and higher, til you're far away and breathing cleaner air. ' ' who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here? ' ' they're burning down the orchard. ' ' i'm spreading out the ashes of a love that only gave and gave. ' ' there's no room for all the hearts who will not stay. ' ' our hands are pulling everything apart. ' ' there's no more need to lie; we don't have time for that. ' ' it's okay. ' ' my love will fall with grace. ' ' leave our footprints to be lost along the ground. ' ' there is nothing left to bring me back down. '

STEADY, STEADY

' you know when you're ready. ' ' it's a long road, walking into the sun. the heat can make you lose your head, your sense of direction. ' ' i am ready to be the one. ' ' how long is forever? ' ' i'm swimming in this dress like a child in her mother's clothes. ' ' this ring around my finger's like a chain around my throat. ' ' are you so sure you tamed me? ' ' i am ready to run. ' ' ain't it a shame that with time our dreams turned into jokes? ' ' i won't let that be us. ' ' don't just watch me go, you fool. run with me, keep up. ' ' it's not you i'm leaving, are you listening? ' ' i won't say i do til you promise me that though we're gray, we can stay young, and wild, and free. '

EASIER

' if you woke and i was gone from the house that we made our home, would it bend you, break you, overtake your heart? ' ' if i were someplace else, would this be easier? ' ' the only peace i have ever known is the peace i made with you. ' ' i can't stay here. ' ' i learned to lie. i learned to grow. i learned to hold it for a while and let it go. ' ' please tell me someday i'll at least be able to sleep. ' ' i'll just close my eyes and try to pretend that it gets easier. '

SHALLOW RIVER

' i know that the promise you wear... well it ain't for me. ' ' oh dear heart, be still. ' ' may the whole sky fall. may it all come down. ' ' keep your distance. ' ' stay the course when you falter and don't you think of me. ' ' make her leave my mind. ' ' bring it down on my head if these sins are mine. ' ' don't you think of me. '

STRANGLER FIG

' you built your kingdom around me. now i'm trapped within your walls. ' ' all i want is to be free. ' ' all you're doing now is losing me. ' ' desire till there's nothing left of me. ' ' you're the culprit, so don't blame me. ' ' i gave you everything i had, and now i want it back. '

THE GLACIER HOUSE

' i need to know. ' ' i saw your eyes, so sweet, go cold. ' ' you cursed the earth you settled under. ' ' understand: i had to go. ' ' bundle up, darling. ' ' you're on your own now. ' ' you sought to hold yourself in, wait out the weather, close the gate on love forever. ' ' i am not one to live with regret. '

TONGUES AND TEETH

' i've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel, it's all that i can give to you, my dear. ' ' when you come in quick to steal a kiss, my teeth will only cut your lips. ' ' i know that you mean so well, but i am not a vessel for your good intent. ' ' i will only wring you dry of everything. but if you're fine with that, you can be mine like that. ' ' abandon all your stupid dreams about the girl i could have been. ' ' in the night, i know you burn with feelings i cannot return. ' ' you gotta know that this won't last. ' ' i will ruin you. ' ' it's a habit--i can't help it. ' ' i will poison all your happy thoughts. ' ' i love you like the ashes in my cigarette box. ' ' you can be mine. '

BACK TO THE GROUND

' i'm a book on a shelf, collecting dust all by myself. ' ' use me up. ' ' the flowers in our window box don't grow. ' ' i still don't know shit about letting go. ' ' i know you're not the one. ' ' our hearts lay still and cold under frozen soil. ' ' i can't stay here anymore. '

SHOW YOUR FANGS

' weight will only make me week. ' ' i beg the stars to marry me, for they are my guide. ' ' i'm not your highness, a damsel left helpless by fright. i am a lioness, fierce as i walk through the night. ' ' an angry sun before could melt me, but now i will survive. ' ' beasts will show their fangs. they're in for a surprise. '

ONCE AND FOR ALL

' i tried it your way, you tried it mine. ' ' this ain't the good fight. ' ' i'm putting my foot down, weak knees and all. ' ' i only fought for love at your request. ' ' i didn't think you'd be the one to leave me clutching at my chest. ' ' you'd leave me here to die. ' ' my blood's forever on your hands. ' ' i'm just fucking tired. '

CANARY IN A COAL MINE

' you and i are friends of empty graves. ' ' am i the only thing that keeps you safe when the light is gone? ' ' i still hold out hope that maybe someday i'll be worth more than all the silence left in my way. ' ' feed me promises. ' ' i'll sing you songs until the darkness does recede. ' ' if in the end i lose my voice, will you forget about your love for me? ' ' know that all my love will be your breath. '

HOW TO REST

' build yourself a citadel amid the foothills of regret. ' ' you'll miss the sun, the warmth of another's embrace. ' ' all you've ever wanted is an escape. ' ' those of us who vow never to love again are making liars out of honest men. ' ' love doesn't know how to rest. ' ' don't make it harder than it has to be. ' ' here's the truest thing i've ever known: the heart is just a muscle with a rhythm all its own; it doesn't stop when you decide not to move on. ' ' the heart knows nothing of your love or of your loss. ' ' life just keeps on ticking by, compelled by instinct to survive. ' ' love's the only thing worth being alive for. '

#memes #askbox memes #rp memes #the crane wives starters #rp sentence starters

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molzies-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Whoops

A/N: I’ve never actually broken anything so I hope this is somewhat accurate, also anon I’m really sorry I didn’t respond earlier but I hope you healed up well!

Parkour had been a hobby once upon a time, but you had started posting videos on the internet, gaining followers over the past couple of years which led to earning a lot of money. So this basically became your job, but wasn’t it everybody’s dream to enjoy what they did for a living?

Although one day you were so caught up in your twists and flips from one surface to the next you didn’t notice that someone had spilt something…

Waking up in the hospital was a nice surprise, a bump on the head and a broken leg was the more nasty one. God…you had no idea how your boyfriend was going to react.

Leo was an incredibly loving and careful boyfriend, sometimes you couldn’t picture your life without him…but right now? You really didn’t want him to come over and see the epic blunder you had gotten yourself into.

He had texted about an hour ago, saying he would drop in when he would get the chance during patrol. It wasn’t like you could just say no! If you said no that would raise suspicions, leading to him coming over anyway. It wasn’t like Leo didn’t trust you, he just got concerned over whether you were getting kidnapped or not.

Letting out a massive sigh, you sat up to try and reach for the tv remote, but moving resulted in tugging the skin trapped under your cast causing you to hiss in pain. “Y/N?” hearing a familiar voice, you whipped your head around meeting the bluest eyes you ever did see. “Hey Leo…” you tried to sound casual, failing miserably as his gaze focused on the dark blue cast. “Oh my god, Y/N what happened?” he questioned as he rushed to your side, cupping your face in his hands.

“Well I was doing some parkour today and…I slipped.” You winced at the recollection. “Oh love, I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?” you were surprised in the change of conversation, originally thinking he was going to scold you for being so reckless, but you saw the concern etched into his features and knew he was being serious.

“The TV remote and some water would be great?” you wondered if you were doing the right thing, taking advantage of this opportunity. “Of course.” He smiled before handing you the remote. With the TV flickering to life, you turned back to him. “I thought you would be mad.” You almost whispered to yourself. “I am a little bit. It’s just…my need to take care of you kinda overrules that.” Leo chuckled to himself as returned with your water.

“Oh…well thanks.” You showed a weak smile before gulping down the glass. “Woah, slow down. You don’t want hiccups as well do you?” he laughed. You attempted to gulp down the lump in your throat as well. “I just realized…I won’t be able to work for so long now.” You gasped. “Love, you need time to heal, and that’s better than irritating the wound and starting all over again…isn’t it?” Leonardo rubbed circles into your shoulder. “I guess so.” You spoke into your glass.

Leaning over to give your forehead a kiss, Leonardo leant his head against yours, staring into your eyes. “I’m here for you.”

Raph had squeezed through your window without even letting you know he was coming. You couldn’t decide whether it was nice of him to surprise you or inconsiderate if he scared you. But you knew this time it was you who was going to give him a shock. The red banded turtle lumbered through your living room before spotting you on the couch.

“Hey…babe?” his tone changed as he spotted the cast trapping your leg. “Hi Raphie.” You greeted pathetically. “What the hell happened? Who did this to you?” he didn’t move as his temper soared, his features expressing a mix of pain, anger and regret. “No one did this to me! Well…unless you count myself.” You chuckled sadly. “…what?” he whispered.

Shutting your eyes tight, you didn’t want to see the look on his face when you told him. “I hurt myself today whilst filming. I wasn’t looking where I was going, there was some water…I slipped.” You sighed, preparing for the worst. Expecting him to yell, stomp about, reminding you what you had done and how he would continue to until it was drilled into your mind how dangerous your job really was. Maybe even tell you not to go back to it…

“Idiot.”

Surprised at the emotion in his voice, you opened your eyes to glance over your boyfriend. “What?” mumbling almost to yourself. “I said you’re an idiot. You should be more careful.” He almost smiled. Instead he sat down on the couch, bicep brushing against your uninjured foot. “I-I’ll keep that in mind.” You stumbled “You’re not mad?”

“How can I? You’ve received the brunt of your mistake anyway, I don’t want to add to that.” He gave you a sad smile whilst rubbing your leg affectionately. “Aw…thanks Raphie.” you whimpered, still a bit emotional from a stressful day and Raph just had to go and be a sweetheart. “Oh hey…don’t cry.” He got up to move closer to you, shuffling himself under your back so you could cuddle.

“Sorry…it’s just been a long day and I wasn’t expecting you to be so nice to me. My mom yelled at me so much today, complaining about how much the hospital would cost me especially since I won’t be able to go back to work now and earn the money back” you started to sob into his chest. “Shush, babe, everything will be alright. And if thing’s get tough around here you’re always welcome to come crash with us.” Raph suggested thoughtfully.

“Your…your brothers won’t mind?” you sniffled, completely bypassing the thought that your boyfriend had practically asked you to move in with him, despite it being purely for your benefit. “Hell no, you’re family Y/N.”

You ended up launching yourself at him then, ignoring the pain in your leg from the sudden movement as you latched your lips onto Raph’s.

“You are so sweet, y’know that?”

“It happens.” He chuckled.

Donnie was practically a doctor himself, so when you broke your leg and only found out when you woke up in hospital, you knew he was gonna be pissed. Not by the fact that you broke it in the first place, but maybe because you didn’t come to him about it. Face it, it would’ve been difficult to get to him with a broken leg but at least it would’ve been free and you would’ve been able to see your boyfriend in this difficult situation.

Walking on crutches back to your apartment only to find out the elevator was out of order was a treat though. The cherry on top of this whole mess. After spending a whole hour, yes an HOUR, climbing the stairs with your cast on, you opened your door to be greeted by none other than Donatello.

“There you are dove! I was starting to get…worried.” He was excited to see you before his eyes fell to your cast. Feeling way too tired for this, you were hoping he wasn’t about to start an argument. Closing the door before anyone in the hallway could see him, you turned around only to be met with a hug. Which was kind of difficult seeing as Donnie was six foot six.

“What happened? Are you okay? Well, clearly not you’ve broken your leg! Do you need anything? Water? Hot water bottle? Do you need me to help scratch your leg? I’ve heard casts can be super scratchy.” Your boyfriend started to ramble. “Donnie! I’m fine, I just need to sit down. The elevator was out of order so I had to use the stairs.” You explained briefly before hobbling over to the couch. That was before Donnie scooped you up bridal style of course.

“Let me take care of you.” He smiled warmly. You were too exhausted to say anything but “Okay.” Laying you down on the sofa, Donnie got you some snacks, blankets and put your favorite movie on. Curling up into his arms you realized how truly grateful you were to have a boyfriend like Donatello. Kissing him on the cheek, you gave him an exhausted grin, staring into his emerald orbs before placing your head in the crook of his neck.

“I’m here for you always dove.”

“Thank you Donatello.”

You couldn’t lie to Mikey, you couldn’t even keep a secret from him. His face was like a magnet for your affection, and that included being truthful. Which meant you had to tell him that you broke your leg and that was why you had to cancel your date. So, when you texted him without saying why, he immediately asked if he could come over instead. Knowing it was better to go this over with sooner rather than later, you said it was okay.

Dreading the minutes in between the text and when he arrived, you sat there trying to get comfortable with, what felt like, an over sized cast. It was like slow torture on a mental and physical plane…which sucked. All you knew was that Mikey would be upset when he had seen what had happened, but he wouldn’t be angry…would he? You’ve never seen Mikey angry before, but that doesn’t mean he never had been angry. Anxiety started to build up in your chest, today had been challenging enough.

“Hey sweet cheeks! Sorry I took so long, want to pick up some pizza!” He chirped as he stumbled into your living room, leaving the window open. A draft picked up, causing you to shiver. As if sensing it, Mike picked up the nearest blanket, came over and wrapped you up in it. He then sat down next to you, completely ignoring your cast set on the pillow next to him, and took a slice out of the box.

“So how was your day?” He beamed. Sunlight was basically coming out of his cheeks at this point. “Uh…kinda horrible?” you chuckled to yourself, starting to find it funny that he hadn’t noticed yet. “Oh no, how come?” he then rubbed your leg. You gave him a look before gesturing to where his hand lay, looking down Mike finally put two and two together.

“Oh my god! What did you do?!”

“HAHAHA, I love you Mike.”

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what-the--curtains · 4 years ago

Text

In a Week

Part 3/4 - Snowballs and cigarettes

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: The snows finally stopped and its about time you got to work unburying your car. With your friends all prompting you to move on from your toxic ex you find yourself becoming more and more aware of the kind of person you’d want to be with. And how Frankie was ticking all those boxes.

Authors notes: Ugh okay I was over the max block text so the finale is split into two parts!! But you get them both tonight💕🌻💕 .

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, allusions to sex (nothing depicted), PTSD, smoking, drinking, swearing

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Word count: 4.0k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 4

It had only been three days but you had found yourself in a routine that you hoped you never fell out of. Each morning he’d wake up first and you’d be predictably wrapped around him for another 2 hours or so. He found it hard to believe you were able to wake up before 10am, let alone that you were up at 5am most days but he’d love to be around to see it happen. For the first time, he saw something he’d long given up on. A future with someone else ingrained into his and his daughters life. Maybe it was stupid feeling this way after a few days, but he was old enough to know when he felt a real connection, and he’d never felt as good as he did when he was with you. He would make his feelings known to you, one way or another, he’d regret it forever if he let you slip through his fingers. He just had to find the right time to do it. It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone in the same bed as you and even longer since the person was someone who made you feel safe and secure. There was something calming about knowing that even if you pushed your freezing cold feet between his calves in the middle of the night he wouldn’t get angry, or push you off he’d just grumble and pull you closer.

It sounded pathetic but it was the nicest a guy had been to you in years. You knew how stupid it was to catch feelings this fast, and it definitely wasn’t like you to feel such strong emotions. Since the funeral you had actively decided to forego them although. This benefited your work, helped you in your field, made you a better doctor, but keeping all your emotions bottled up took its toll. Primarily on your love life. You’d had your fair share of flings with other residents, nurses, friends of friends, but between classes and shift work there wasn’t time. Plus what was the point when you had no idea where you’d be moved to. At least that’s what you told yourself. Then Jonathan came along and you’d let him in, let him know you and you fell for him in the process. Then he’d started dating someone else, told you he didn't realize you were exclusive, and it shattered you completely. You’d pieced yourself back together and once you were better, once you were finally over him, he’d cycle back round to you, determined to keep you on retainer. The whole ordeal had left you tired. You’d never had a real relationship and you were already done with them. You never understood how people would want to live with someone for the rest of their lives until now. Catching feelings had always happened in periphery to your life making it easy to push by a crush by simply avoiding them, but you couldn’t avoid Frankie. Each day you spent trapped inside with him he’d continued to grow on you, cementing your feelings for him tenfold. You yawn and stretch your leg out over Frankies torso propping yourself up onto your elbow so you can reach over him and grab the glass of water on the nightstand. He exhales as if your movement across him is an inconvenience to his meticulous strategy for winning whatever game he was playing on his phone. You take a sip and put the cup back down, rolling off the bed and opening the curtains.

“Hey!” you shout, causing Frankies head to shoot over to you, “It stopped snowing!” you exclaim, gazing out over the parking lot where the snow had fallen. The powder undulating overtop the cars buried beneath it. You stretch your arms up catching an unsavoury whiff coming from your armpits causing you to pull a face. Turning around just in time to see Frankie laughing from the bathroom door.

“Seriously man? Do you have to beat me to everything!” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Gotta be faster sweetheart.” he says, closing the door behind him. From anyone else the term would have driven you into a rage induced frenzy, but it was endearing not condescending coming from him. You take the time to call Stella, you’d been texting with her since you got stuck but you felt it was time to officially announce your arrival as permanently cancelled.

“Hey girl”

“Hey babe what's going on? You calling with good or bad news?” she asks, a constant bustle evident in the background.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, but only bad news on my end. I am so fucking sorry, I should have just flown down like you said” you offer, leaning back against the window allowing the chill of the outside to cool you off.

“Well this is why you should always listen to me, but i’ll forgive you just this once.” she laughs.

“God I can’t believe the one wedding I actually care about I’m going to miss!” you exasperated, shifting away from the window and flopping down onto the bed.

“Well I definitely won’t miss you, especially considering you’ve already sent a gift.” she teases.

“How, very dare you” you punctuate.

“Yup long con paid off, 10 years I pretended to like you just to get you to buy me a toaster from ebay” Stella laughs.

“You could have just stolen mine after the first year, then you could have had me gone!” you state.

“Ugh a huge mistake!!” she overemphasizes dramatically, causing you both to burst out laughing.

“So….” you say after your giggles subside leaving a gentle ache in your ribs that always occurred when you talked to Stella.

“What?” she asks, sniffling.

“ Did John make it out there?” you ask, in a painfully transparent way.

“Why?” she spits, her tone suddenly lethal. She hated the guy, she was the one who was always left dealing with you after he’d used you up, helping to piece you back together, just in time for him to get a hold on you again.

“He asked about me?” you query, once again failing to convey your intentions.

“I’m not indulging this anymore, it's bad for you. He’s bad for you, there's only so many times I can watch him emotionally manipulate you” she rants.

“Ya, but it's easy and it's so good with him.” you emphasize.

“It’s not easy, take it from someone in an easy relationship, it's not supposed to hurt that much.” she chides, determined to have you see the light.

“But..”

“Nope, I'm drawing the line for you, find someone else. You’re a gorgeous single doctor,

“Almost doctor” you interrupt, but the statement is ignored.

“Aren’t you currently shacked up with one of my stupid brothers friends?”

“Yes? And?” you say, your heart suddenly beating faster as your head turns to see Frankies hat on the nightstand.

“Frankie right? Statue like, soft curls, kind, deep brown eyes? And don’t pretend like you didn’t notice I know you like the back of my hand!”

“So what if I have, doesn't mean..” you whisper, not wanting him to hear you.

“Nope, don’t sell yourself short, I say get cozy with him and finally move on from dickhead McGee, even if it's just for a night, cleanse the palette. Besides, you know he’ll be doing whoever looks his way at my wedding.” you hear a muffled shout “alright I have to go, something about the bridesmaids fighting.”

“Your sisters? Fighting? Who could have seen that coming” you deadpan.

“I know, god I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was as well i'll call tomorrow in case you get cold feet, I have a five point plan”

“I won't” she chimes.

“ I know because you love her”

“And I also love you” she says

“And I love you” you respond before hanging up. Not even a minute after hanging up you get a call from Santiago

“Hey, I just wanted to verbally apologize for trapping you with ‘Fish, though he's definitely one of the better ones to get stuck with.” he says.

“Well that’s good to know” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“He hasn’t tried anything has he? If he has I'll kill him, and get away with it, you'll have to help me with the body but...” Santiago starts.

“Santi, it's fine he's cool, really sweet, actually,” you offer heat rushing to your face for some unknown reason.

“Good. He touches you ill..” he warns.

“You’ll kill him ya I got it!” you snap, you understood why Santiago felt like he had to play big brother for you but sometimes he was a touch overbearing. “Is John there?” you try and ask casually, failing to head Stellas advice.

“Don’t...” Santi starts, you can practically hear his jaw clench over the phone “you know if I see him tonight i'm gonna knock him out for how he treats you”

“It wasn’t that bad.” you whisper.

“It was, still is, I heard him bragging about how if worse comes to worse he always has his plan D,” he offers, not to hurt you but to try and free you from the cycle.

“That dick. You know what Stellas right, fuck him!” you exclaim with a newfound determination to rid him from your life.

“Oh my god, are you finally seeing the light?” Santi asks “Praise the lord!” He shouts up into the sky.

“Ya I guess so” you say staring at Frankie as he dries his hair with the towel. “I gotta go, see you soon.”

“Not soon enough” he laughs as you hang up.

“Whose that?” Frankie asks, still curious about who you’d been hoping to see at the wedding and what they’d done to earn your affection.

“Pope!” you say with a smile, pushing your back off the bed and sitting up.

“Threatening to kill me?” Frankie predicts.

“Ya we have a plan” you murmur.

“We?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and his mouth upturned at the sides.

“Well he'll kill you but, I cant have him go to jail so i'll have to hide your body.” you explain

“Good glad that got sorted” he says, his smile now in full effect.

“I'll go grab some breakfast” you say.

“No ill get it, you’re always getting it, plus gives you time to shower, I can smell you from here.” He prods, grabbing the key.

“Rude!” you yell out after him.

He's back when you exit the shower

“Oh thank you, you say grabbing the plate form him”

“Just what the doctor ordered, hey?” he asks, smiling stupidly big.

“Ouuuf that that was bad truly apologize to me” He laughs at how serious your face gets “You're laughing? I had to listen to that joke and you're laughing?” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “Here's something that'll wipe that stupid smile off your face, snow stops which means we have to clear off my car.”

“Using the royal we are we?” he asks

“Think of it as repayment for the pun,” you say waving your fork in his face

“How will we be clearing it off?” he asks, leaning over the counter.

“Brush” you say, as if it's obvious

“Where's the brush?” he asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for an answer.

“In the….oh” you say, face dropping when you realize that the brush was in the car currently buried under a snow pile.

“Not so smart now” he laughs pushing back off the counter taking your empty plate with him, washing it up for you.

“Well I guess we just have to get to the door with our hands then” you say smiling.

“Once again, about this we,” he says, drying his hands on the dish towel, turning to see a dramatic pout plastered across your face.

“Fine, I'll only help because I think you may disappear in the snow if you go in alone” he responds, the truth was, he couldn't deny you.

You both get dressed into the most winter proof clothes you had, neither of you having packed for a snowy expedition. As you exit the room you see him grab a pack of cigarettes he’d been hiding, not wanting you to see his worst traits.

“Those will kill you, you know,” you say, causing him to roll his eyes dramatically.

“Okay mom” he laughs grabbing the lighter despite your disapproving glare,

“You have a daughter to think about” you say, feeling like you'd be letting your profession down by giving up so easily.

“It's why I smoke, the safest way to calm the nerves while staying clean” he murmurs with a look on his face that is enough to get you to drop it for now. You weren't about to pry into his struggle with addiction and you certainly weren’t one to judge, you’d faced similar issues after your brothers passing.

“I used to smoke,” you confess as the elevator doors close in front of you both.

“Seriously?” he remarks, not able to believe it.

“Pack a week for about a year” you say, slowly nodding your head as the two of you walk through the foyer towards the parking lot.

“You quit?” He asks, impressed.

“Ya I don’t think it was long enough to form a habit. When did you start?” you offer as you move your legs through the snow, it was dense your legs would be sore tomorrow.

“What? Are you gonna assess the state of my lungs?” Frankie laughs, moving easily through the snow you were struggling so hard against.

“Yes, but i'll only tell you the results if you want to know”

“Few years back, after...” he stops himself before confessing the worst thing that ever happened in his life.

“The mission” you finish for him, remembering how Pope had picked up similar habits once he finally returned home. “You were there with Santi?” you question

“He told you about it?” he asks, sterner than you’d seen him before, he was afraid that you knew what a monster he was. You shake your head, no and he thanks the gods. “You think i'm going to?” He queries lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag, making sure not to blow it out anywhere near you.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s the one thing he wont tell me about, figured it would be easier for you if you were talking to a stranger about it.”

“Not much of a stranger now” he laughs, but there was something behind his eyes, a similar sadness that you saw with Santi when he talked about it. Your thoughts are interrupted when something cold hits you in the face, your mouth drops open, your forehead scrunches in disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” he looks up panicked

“I guess it's what I get for asking so many questions” you say, hand still over your face playing into it as you formulate your attack.

“No, oh my god! No! It wasn't because of that, let me see” he says, you let your hands drop and you smile wickedly up at him. Before he has time to react, you rub a handful of snow into his face.

“Oh... you're gonna pay for that.” he draws out, wiping the snow from his face.

After 15 minutes of all out war, and a brief truce that was to be officially signed once back inside you managed to get to the door handle and lean into the back seat grabbing out the brush. You offer it to Frankie, but he's already started clearing off the rest of the car with his arms.

“Hey can you grab my spare charger out of the compartment there?” you say cleaning off the trunk, the front doors now accessible.

“Ya, holy shit is this a knife?” he asks, pulling out a knife.

“Maybe.” You say staring into his eyes as his mouth hangs open in amusement. “For safety, I didn't know who I'd be driving up with! You coulda been a murderer” you explain palms up.

“And you were planning on what? shanking me?” he laughs a huge smile on his face, weirdly endeared by your thought process.

“Only if I had to.” You say chuckling between shivers, the cold now seeping through your makeshift snowsuit hitting against the sweat you’d worked up.

“You want it?” He offers.

“No i'm good, thanks”

“Because you don’t think I'm a murderer or because you have another one hidden in the room already?” he laughs, but he stops when you tilt your head slightly and raise your eyebrows, averting your eyes.

“Wait, do I need this knife?” he calls as you trudge back through the snow.

You both change into less sweaty attire and you settle into the couch turning on to watch the latest forensic files rerun. You shiver as you sit down having caught a chill. Noticing you shaking, Frankie goes to the wardrobe and grabs down a spare blanket throwing one at you so it lands directly over your head. He laughs when he sees you slowly turn towards him beneath the blanket, like someone in a makeshift ghost costume.

“Excuse me!” you laugh

“Hey you should be thanking me, can't have you freezing to death.” he says, “Are you asleep under there?” he asks, when you don't respond

“I'm not a cat! I don't fall asleep when someone throws a blanket over me!” He's not paying attention to what he's doing and the bottle in his hand shatters against the counter, a shard slicing his hand open.

“Fucking shit.” you him sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ask maneuvering out from under your blankets to see Frankie in the kitchen, glass on the floor and blood coming down his arm.

“Wow you're out of my sight for 2 seconds and you maim yourself” you say laughing, stopping when you see the panicked look in his eye, the event evidently triggering something deep in his psyche. You quickly stand up and he goes to move towards you.

“No don't move Frankie, stay where you are.” you reassure softly, watching as his eyes lay into your own, his breathing calmer now “You're in socks, can't have you cutting your dancing feet” you say.

“You’ve heard of my dancing feet,” he says, grounding himself again.

“Only bad things” you say, throwing him a pair of shoes that he carefully puts on before moving toward the closet where the broom is “No come here, let me see your hand. The mess can wait, you're more important,” you stress leading him over to the couch and sitting him down.

“Wow, first time I'll be able to afford professional health care “ he jokes as you take his hands in your own.

“Ow” he says when you press down onto the hand to assess the damage.

“It's fine, not deep enough for stitches, should heal up on its own. I still want to clean it though, to stop any infection.” You return with a small bottle of over priced vodka opening it and dabbing some onto a cotton pad. He doesn't flinch when the alcohol cleans the wound and he watches as you bandage his hand up.

“You carry a med pack with you on every trip?” he queries, but you don’t hear him you’re too focused on wrapping his hand.

“There! good as new,” you say standing up and cleaning up the glass on the floor. “Hey did you bring a swimsuit?” you ask, dumping the glass into some newspaper that was left in the room.

“Why?” He asks.

“Answer the question Frankie” you say, folding the paper around the shards before placing it into the trash.

“Yes, you wanna go hang out at the pool with the fifty families stuck here?”

“Ya. You don't? Seriously this room is wildly expensive and has a huge jacuzzi tub, I'm getting in your welcome to join, but bathing suits are mandatory.” you offer.

“I was gonna get in fully clothed,” he offers, not missing a beat.

“Perfect even better”

As per usual he beats you to the punch and settles into the tub that was more akin to a hot tub than a bath, he wanted to get in first partially to annoy you and partially so his body wouldn’t be on full display, he wasn't as jacked as he once was and he’d become insecure about certain areas that he’d let go once his kid came along. He watches as you walk in and his eyes can't help but follow your figure around the room, a beautiful person behind a beautiful personality, he thanks the universe for placing him into your orbit.

“That why they call you catfish?” you ask drawing him from his daydream back into an equally pleasing reality.

“What?” he responds, blushing at having been called out on his gawking.

“Cause your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water when you're zoned out” you smirk, lowering yourself down into the tub.

“Rude” he says splashing after you settle in.

“Alright, Frankie, what is it?” you ask, causing his face to look up to you “what's your deal, apart from smoking? You gotta have flaws”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he charms

“Sinister” you laugh, but he doesn't, you reach your foot up tapping his cheek with it,

“Disgusting,” he chuckles, grabbing it and rubbing the arch before pushing it back into the water.

“God, I miss the ocean” you confess, “ I hate the city sometimes.”

“You’re not planning on staying in Chicago after you're done?”

“Nope, gonna get myself out to the coast, or at least somewhere without winters.” you say stretching your arms out across the tub. “How about you, are you planning on staying?”

“ Probably, no reason to leave, plus it's close to my mom so she can take care of Arianna when I'm at work, though I wouldn't be opposed to moving if the opportunity presented itself she's young enough that it wouldn’t be too hard.” he says, wanting you to know that if you asked, hed follow you anywhere.

“Arianna, beautiful name. Did you pick it?” you ask looking up when a few minutes of silence pass. As you do you notice that the somber look from early had returned. “You okay?” you ask.

“I don't deserve her, I don’t deserve something so good.” he states, suddenly realizing he didn’t deserve someone like you either. You wouldn’t be sitting in the tub with him if you knew what he’d done.

“Frankie that's not true” you reassure

“You don't know the shit I've done. I'm not... I'm not a good person,” he says, still not looking over to you.

“Well, I…” you begin to refute.

“Seriously, I've done bad things… awful things'' he clears his throat, afraid to look at you, afraid you’d be terrified by him.

“People make bad mistakes, but that doesn't make them irredeemable, not if they are willing to change. You understand what you did was bad, that says something.” you reassure, knowing the guilt was likely left over from the military.

“Well, wise words coming from someone who's never done anything bad”

“You don't know me that well Frankie, I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, crappy things to numb the pain. It's what we do to make up for those shitty actions that count. At every turn, you’ve shown me that you're not an evil person. Everything I’ve seen is good, and funny and incredibly kind.” you finish and you continue to nudge him with your foot until he finally cracks a smile.

“Well now you're smiling again, my missions complete and it's time for bed” you say stepping out of the tub and drying off, unaware that you’d just made Frankie fall even harder for you. His eyes helplessly following you as you leave the bathroom.

“Since I'm an outpatient, does that mean I get the good side of the bed?” he calls out after you. You roll your eyes but let him have it, you preferred the sleeping situation the way it was.

#In a week #part 3 #frankie x y/n #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal characters

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odd-birds-and-booksellers · 4 years ago

Note

Hiiii can you write prompt number 4 from the first list kinda need some Jolex rn

pick up the pieces & build a lego house

It’s only when she looks up from unpacking and notices how dark it is, does she realise how much time has passed. Disregarding the box she’d just ripped open she decides her husband had been far too quiet for far too long. She’s not sure when his gruff voice mumbling a string of curse words as he tried to assemble what felt like a never-ending amount of baby crap they’d decided to leave till the last minute had filtered out but it had definitely been a while since she’d heard him gain another self-inflicted injury.

“Alex?” She calls out, shifting up off the floor, one hand curled around her burgeoning bump. She lets out a deep breath as she waddles her way towards the staircase, calling out to her husband once again. The second they’d said goodbye to the loft she’d regretted it, space was overrated, having everything in one room might have seemed a little crowded but Jo would rather call it convenient. Her short temper begins to flare as she calls out for a third time with no response. Annoyed Jo makes her way up the stairs, feeling a little out of breath as she reaches the top, all courtesy of their big-headed baby getting all up in her lungs.

“Alex I swear if you’ve made me come all the way up these stairs and you aren’t dead I’ll kill you myself.”

As she rounds the corner of the nursery, it takes her a second to catch sight of her husband in between all the boxes, with all excess wrapping laid out...the room resembles a junkyard more than it does a nursery.

And there he was, in between all the chaos leaning back against the crib that she’d instead he put up now, he’d cushioned himself against an excessively large teddy bear his godchildren had picked out. His face scrunched up like he was almost in pain, mumbling faintly under his breath and Jo has to tiptoe closer to hear him.

“Babies don’t crunch like that...”

Jo has to stifle a laugh as Alex tosses side to side lightly mumbling utter nonsense about BBQ chips being less baby like then sour cream ones.

“I don’t wanna crush the baby like chips you know?” His voice sounds rough, half-asleep. Jo clamps a hand over her mouth as she makes her way over, she clears her throat, as she leans down in front of him, brushing some of his hair out of his face, it had grown a little unruly in lockdown and after her first attempt at playing hairdresser, he promised to never let her near him with scissors again.

“Sorry,” she whispers, a soft smile playing on her lips as she kneels down resting on the new plush rug as his sleepy eyes find hers, “I didn’t mean to wake you.” She can tell he’s a little disoriented as he sits up, rubbing his eyes for a moment.

His confused face only makes her smile brighter. She is not surprised to find him asleep up here, he’s been exhausted these last few weeks. Between her midnight cravings, the house move and the constant updates from both hospitals he really wasn’t getting the chance to rest much and no doubt that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon.

Before Alex even has a chance to respond she moves in closer, her lips meeting his, kissing him slowly as his hands slide up her body resting over her bump. They’d spent most of her pregnancy apart...not what either one of them had imagined but when the pandemic hit very little was known about its effects and so of course Jo was made to isolate and while Alex had wanted nothing more than to stay home with her, he was still the chief of a hospital unequipped to deal with the level of patients coming in and they both knew deep down he was needed elsewhere. They’d managed somehow, a lot of FaceTime at the baby scans and car park meetings from six feet apart. There were people worse off, they knew that. But when Jo had hit seven months Alex couldn’t keep away any longer, he was already battling with the guilt of missing so much. So home he came, home, however, was actually all their belongings stuffed into various cardboard boxes all just waiting to be moved across town.

“This is going to sound cheesy but… I love when you’re half asleep and talking nonsense...you’re adorable.”

He laughs and smiles against her lips as he begins to rub soft circles across her bump. “Adorable probably isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Really? What would you use?” Jo grins, as she settles beside him leaning back against the crib that wouldn’t see any use for a long while yet. See while Alex had been working Jo had been left feeling pretty useless, I mean if there was ever a time doctors need to step up it was now and yet here she was trapped at home, watching the news on a loop. Finding their new home had given her something to do, something that didn't make her feel useless.

“Oh, you know handsome...incredibly sexy?” Alex smirks, lifting her legs so they laid out across his lap, his warm hand resting on her thigh.

“Oh you’re right...you taking a nap on a giant teddy bear, mumbling about chips of all things is incredibly sexy.”

“Glad you agree...” Alex smiles, resting his forehead against Jo’s. Here it’s so easy to forget what's going on outside when it’s just the two...or three of them. No one’s sick or dying, here in these four walls they’re safe. They’re home.

Something Jo never really had before she met Alex. A place where their children would always call home, they wouldn’t drag their stuff in a rubbish bag from one crappy place to the next. No here is where they’ll take their first steps and get startled by the flash as Alex struggles to get in on video. Downstairs by the entrance is where they’ll mark their height as they grow and Jo and Alex will mark theirs as they shrink in old age. Outback will be filled with memories of badly burnt BBQs, water gun fights and snow castles. A home where no matter how dark and scary things get outside will always be filled with love.

I can’t remember the last time I did a request. I’ll be honest I’m too scared to even go through my asks but I saw this one and I really enjoyed writing a little fluff with no plot.

Thanks for reading.

#alex karev #jolex #jo wilson #jo karev #greys anatomy #greys abc #greysanatony #justin chambers #greys #camilla luddington #Jolex fanfic #Jolex fanfiction #Jolex oneshot

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bumbleberrysky · 4 years ago

Text

alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 02

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.7k rating: sfw warnings: same as before, wounded gabriel & removal of those stitches notes: the fire under my ass burns as strong as ever, hallelujah

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It’s something you’re destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you’d thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you’re suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you’d been brought here in the first place? Maybe…

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

prev. || next

Much to your regret, your plans the next morning to continue being a nuisance to Dean are thrown in the bin at his decision to leave early and meet Castiel somewhere a state over for a case that the angel had found. Something about vamps in a mine or something, you’re a bit hazy on the details. You’d only half-listened when Sam filled you in upon your arrival in the kitchen, a good hour after Dean had already departed the bunker.

While you would like to say Dean is completely to blame, the truth is that once you passed out last night you slept like a log and didn’t wake up until mid-morning today, which classifies as a sleep-in of sorts for you. You love sleep, but your body is wired to wake up not long after sunrise, unfortunately. It’s that hunter lifestyle you love to hate.

Sam had huffed a laugh at your face when you found out you’d missed Dean, but otherwise had kept to himself with his healthy breakfast as you went about making yourself a coffee. You tend to be a bit nauseous in the mornings, so a coffee will be enough for you for a few hours. It’s likely your stomach won’t roar in hunger until a bit after midday, as it is wont to do.

“How is your arm?”

Sam’s question breaks you out of the dissociative state you’d slipped into as you sip your coffee, grip on the mug tightening in reflex. It takes a few blinks before your eyes focus back on him, a small smile on your lips.

“Much better, thank you doctor,” you answer, before mumbling into your coffee as you take another sip. “Despite apparent attempts at making it otherwise…”

Sam snorts, not even bothering to comment on that. “I’m glad. Did you have anything planned for the day?”

A contemplative hum escapes you, your gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, not really. I kind of went hard for a while there, one case after the other, so I’m due for a break. Not much of a fan of burnout.”

Your eyes move back down, meeting his own. “I’m probably going to just hang back, for a bit. Recuperate. I mean, I didn’t get any injury besides my arm, but I’m just… tired, I suppose. Didn’t get much sleep the past few weeks.”

“Of course you didn’t hurt anything but your arm,” Sam rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his smoothie—you’re not a fan of the green tinge it has, but if he likes it then you suppose it must be alright, at least. “You and your stupid good luck. Dean is still mad about last time, you know. When he got splattered in monster guts that just missed you by a centimetre.”

The memory yanks a giggle out of you before you can stop it, almost spilling your coffee as a result of the abrupt movement. “Oh, that was good. I wish I had a picture so I could scrapbook it.”

Sam laughs around a mouthful of food, swallowing it down before he continues. “Dean would kill you.”

“I know, but it would be worth it.” You place your cup down, deciding it a better course of action than continuing to hold it and risking spillage. “Also, I know you think my luck is really good all the time, but it’s kind of just good occasionally. All other times, it sucks.”

“It kicks in when you hunt, though, so I suppose that’s all that matters,” Sam muses, flicking through an article on his phone somewhat distractedly. He hums to himself before turning the screen off and angling his body to you properly, meeting your questioning gaze.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help,” he says, appearing somewhat sheepish. “With Gabriel.”

You try not to let your sharp intake of breath show, but from the look that flickers through Sam’s eyes you figure he catches it anyway. Your teeth worry your bottom lip for a moment before you can muster a proper response. “Alright. What are you thinking of doing?”

Sam adjusts once more, pushing his plate away, cutlery stacked on top; it’s only now that you realise he’s finished the meal and the only thing left to consume is his smoothie.

“Well, I’m not… entirely sure yet.”

You huff a laugh, attempting to regain a sense of normalcy. It isn’t that you’d forgotten about the battered archangel hiding in a room a few doors down from yours, but it’s moreso that you’d made it a point not to think about it so early in the morning, lest your mood be ruined for the entire day. Thinking of Gabriel… it kind of hurt. You’re not sure you’re ready to sit down and analyse exactly why you’re having such visceral reactions yet.

“I don’t think we can really plan much, here,” he says, features softening with empathy. It reminds you that when it comes to Hell and being tortured, the youngest Winchester isn’t as unfamiliar as you might hope. A pang of something hits against the confines of your chest at his tone and the passing look in his eyes; as always, there’s the useless feeling, the wish you could take away all the bad memories and experiences and make it all better. You know you can’t, nothing can, but you hate seeing your friends in any modicum of pain.

You suppose that includes Gabriel, if the sensations whirling within you at the thought of him are anything to go by.

“We’ll just have to take it as it comes,” you say, taking your mug into your hold and downing the rest of the drink in one go. “Alright! I’m gonna shower and then… I guess we go see him.”

x x

Unlike the Gabriel you were once so familiar with, this Gabriel is decidedly not fond of visitors.

Sam had gone and prepared some things while you’d showered and dressed, and by the time you reappear outside your room you hear shuffling from the direction of the library. Curious, you make your way down the hall, peeking your head in and blinking in only minor surprise at the sight of Sam, his shoulders heavy.

“What’s up, Sam-o-saurus?”

Sam looks up and gives you the closest approximation to a bitch face that you’ve ever received from him, clearly not fond of the new nickname that came to you on the spot like a divine enlightenment. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, though, which is probably for the best considering your mission for the day. It would do none of you any good if he went near Gabriel while all riled up.

“Gabriel is, uh,” he clears his throat, placing down a sterile steel tray in the shape of a bean and small surgical scissors, along with a scalpel. Your gaze strays to the side and sees that it was the first aid box he’d been ransacking as you arrived. “Not very open to visitation from me right now. I think I might be a bit… bit big. He doesn’t really even see me when he looks at me, so I don’t think he realises who I am.”

You wince, trying not to dwell on the information longer than needed to file it away for later consideration. “Oh. Sorry, Sam. You want me to go see if I can bring him out?”

“Please,” the tall man says, gesturing to the tools on the glossy oak table. “I figured we could start by getting rid of those stitches over his mouth, if nothing else. I don’t think he has enough grace right now to stop infection so we should try and reduce the risk.”

His words sadden you, but you know the truth they hold. Your limbs feel a bit heavy as you push away from the doorway.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel’s allocated room isn’t all that far from the library, and the note on the door sticks out like a sore thumb so you don’t have to worry much about getting lost on the way (ignoring that at this point you know most parts of the bunker like the back of your hand). Once outside his room, something gives you pause though.

Are you ready to see him in that state again? Or is it that a small, tiny part of you fears he won’t recognise you, either?

Ridiculous of you, really. You take a moment to admonish yourself for the thought. If you take a second to factor in the difference in time spent in hell, even without considering all the time he was missing, Gabriel had to have been trapped and tortured for over a century at the very least. Centuries and years might mean nothing to a celestial being who has been alive for millennia, but over a century of fear and torture is a lot even for someone with such impressive mileage.

You shake your head, attempting to clear your thoughts and emotions so you don’t enter his room with an overwhelming aura. Okay, showtime.

A soft knock echoes as your knuckles meet the wood, a moment passing before you speak, attempting to keep your voice as soft and nonthreatening as possible.

“Gabriel? It’s y/n, I’m going to come in now.”

You allow another moment to pass before you ease the door open, blinking in surprise as your eyes are greeted by light—it seems the archangel has every bulb in the vicinity burning its brightest. Understandable, since you presume he wasn’t exactly kept in well-lit conditions.

For a second, you think he’s not in the room. You don’t see him anywhere, and you’re about a split-second away from turning and calling Sam when you catch a glimpse of something shifting in the corner, behind the bulky side of a wooden dresser. You think for a second that you’ve forgotten how to breathe, chest painfully tight, as you realise that the small form huddled and curled in the corner is, in fact, the archangel Gabriel.

You hate that you’d noticed him only because of the filthy scraps of material that stick out against the dark décor of the bunker.

“Hey, Gabriel,” you say softly, keeping the door open so he has a route of escape and moving over as slowly and cautiously as you can. “I’m just gonna come over and sit in front of you, alright?”

You figure that even if he’s not entirely listening to everything you’re saying, it’s better to announce what you’re doing before you do it, for his benefit.

Something painful ricochets off the inside of your chest as you grow close enough to see him around the dresser and you’re confronted with his beaten, bloody and battered figure once more. His gaze is anywhere but you, and the way he presses himself into the corner is like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. It takes all of your willpower to squash down the unexpected sob that catches low in your throat. What is wrong with you?! You need to get a grip.

“Oh, Gabriel,” you find yourself saying before you can stop. “I’m so sorry…”

The closer you get to him, the lower you try to make yourself in his peripheral. It wouldn’t do any good to startle him by appearing big and threatening. It makes you frown when you remember just who it is that you have to think this way about. It’s sad, you think. The Gabriel you’d known was prideful, glaringly bright and loud in his presence, both as a trickster and an angel, and that he’d been reduced to… well, to this? It made your chest feel heavy.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, you ease down onto your knees in front of him, doing your best not to rush anything. It’s hard—you’re a hunter, used to moving with speed and a sense of urgency. So to take your time and really be in the moment for each of your actions is definitely an odd change from the usual autopilot your brain resides in.

He doesn’t acknowledge your presence once you’re still in front of him, not really. You had expected as much though, and as much as he seems unresponsive you do see the occasional flick of his eyes in your direction before they dart away, like he couldn’t believe he’d dared to look at someone instead of the floor.

For a few minutes, you simply let him adjust to your presence, your company. Ever so slowly, you see the tiniest bits of tension ease from his shoulders, his eyes no longer darting around like a frantic squirrel. You take the opportunity to take in the wounds and sores littering his body, doing your best not to get too upset by what you see. Dirt and grime coats him in layers, and you mentally note that your next goal with him would be to get him in a damn bath.

It can’t be comfortable, sitting in all that grime…

“For the sake of transparency,” you begin when he seems like he will be open enough to listening. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. This is your space right now, and I don’t want to intrude on it unless I really need to.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, but you sense you have his attention. “Given that right now you’re low on… strength, and not healing as you usually do, we need to take care of some of the worse wounds you have. If we don’t, it’s a risk of infection, and we don’t know how well you would fight that off in this state…”

You clear your throat, attempting to keep yourself on track. “So, if you’re able, we’d really like you to come out just for a moment, so we can fix up some of your sores. I promise that you can come right back in here afterwards, and that unless we have something really important we’ll leave you alone. Sound good?”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t really move, but the way his eyes move to yours and hold your gaze for a bare second longer than you expect, you gather he’s not entirely against it. You offer him a smile, oddly proud of him. You’d seen firsthand how hard it can be to get out of these mindsets, even just for a moment. Effort is hard and that he’s making it means everything.

“Perfect,” you say, shifting in your spot so you can stand more easily. “Alright, I can help you up, if you’d like, or you can stand on your own if you want. What do y—”

Your hands had already begun to outstretch as you spoke, and you’re taken by surprise when before you even finish speaking his hand is whipping up to grab your wrist in a sort of monkey grip. You’re left blinking as you help him up, moving on autopilot. You expect him to release you as soon as he’s standing, but it adds to your surprise as he wobbles in place and retains his grip, if anything shuffling a little closer.

“Okay,” you say, angling your body and adjusting your grip so that it’s loose and as nonthreatening as possible. “Let’s go. Thank you for cooperating.”

Of course, there’s no response and he’s silent the whole way to the library. You remember that Sam is in there only as you approach the threshold, but unlike what you feared, Gabriel doesn’t seem to react too poorly to him like he apparently had earlier. Risking a glance his way reveals that actually, amongst the frayed and almost manic energy, he seems oddly… grounded, just for the moment.

Well, this is certainly going better than you’d anticipated.

“I went to bully Dean this morning, but he woke up before me and left before I could get to him.”

You’re in the process of cleaning the wounds around Gabriel’s mouth and removing the ugly stitches that have been sewn into his lips. As something to distract him as much as you from what you’re doing, you’ve begun chatting idly to the archangel, unbothered by the lack of response. Sam sits a metre or so away, researching for Dean who had apparently called earlier when you were coercing Gabriel out of his room.

Still Gabriel doesn’t hold your gaze, eyes averted as he leans forward in the chair for you to reach his mouth, but you can tell from the way his eyes occasionally flick to you as you speak that he is listening, somewhat. It’s enough of a win that you’re willing to take it.

He winces each time your alcohol swab goes over the entry point of a stitch, but doesn’t flinch away too badly. You’re pretty proud of him for that, actually, because it must hurt like a bitch.

“You got him yesterday, though,” Sam pipes in from the side, amused as he recalls your arrival. “Barely an hour after you got here and he was quitting and heading to bed.”

“It’s hard being so naturally talented,” you say, placing the swab down and reaching for the small scissors and tweezers. “I’m an absolute delight, and Dean should appreciate that!”

“Has anyone ever believed you when you told them that?” Sam asks, presumably referring to the ‘delight’ bit.

“Why wouldn’t they, Samuel?” you ask, giving the massive man a light spritz of stink-eye. “Do you have something to say to me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know,” he snorts in response, turning a page in the tome he currently has in his lap.

You bite your lip to hide your amused smile, turning back to Gabriel. You place your hand softly on his cheek to let him know that you’re about to go back in for the stitches, before raising the other tool and bringing it to the first of the thick threads woven through his flesh. Wincing, you try and snip it as delicately as possible. Now seems like a better time than any for more distractions.

“If you think I’m bad, you should be glad you never met my grandfather,” you inform the youngest Winchester, successfully severing the first stitch and beginning the icky job of pulling it out. Gabriel makes a muffled noise of pain but remains still, and you pat his hand softly in support. “He could stir the shit out of anyone, man. Like, I’m not even kidding. The bastard gene I got from him was actually watered down by the time it got to me, so count your lucky stars.”

Sam makes a noise of contemplation, like he really is taking the time to thank whatever powers that be— those apparently being Chuck, as you’ve heard— that you’re not more like your grandfather. Honestly, you’re not kidding—they really should be grateful. You loved your grandpa but you’d never met anyone so quick to stir whatever pot may present itself before them. An opportunist with bastardous tendencies, one might describe him.

In the silence that follows, you jump to another topic for the sake of distraction once more—you’re about to move onto another stitch.

“So, now that your mother is here, are you guys actually eating like normal human beings?” you ask, tongue pressed between your lips in concentration as you try to snip the thread as painlessly as possible by manoeuvring the small scissors. “Like, balanced meals with vegetables and shit?”

You hear Sam pause in the motion of turning a page, a scoff turning into a laugh as it climbs his throat. “What—homecooked meals? Our mom? Dude, she’s worse than Dean in the kitchen, and I really didn’t think that was possible.”

You pause your ministrations to face the tall man, squinting. “What? No way. No way is she worse than Dean—”

“We’ve had to replace the fire alarms twice already,” Sam says, meeting your gaze with a look that is full of both fondness and exasperation. He lets out a laugh at your flabbergasted face. “Dude, I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it for myself. You’ll see, whenever she gets back with Jack. She can’t cook but it doesn’t really stop her trying.”

“Another terrible chef joins the ranks,” you proclaim dramatically, pulling the stitch you were working on out and going in on the next one. “Oh, to be able to cook. I suppose this Jack kid is our last hope.”

“He’s not even a year old, y/n,” Sam says, deadpan. “I wouldn’t count on it. Also, you can cook, you’re just lazy.”

You shrug, making a face; he has you there. “I will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.”

Once more, you feel Sam roll his eyes behind you—he should get that checked if he’s rolling them so heavily you can feel it yourself. They’re not even eyes that are in your own skull, man.

You proceed to pull shit out of your ass as you take Gabriel’s mouth stitches out, the metal tin to the side soon filled with scraps of thick thread covered in dried blood and muck. The exit wounds where the thread had been have begun to well with blood, the wounds agitated by the removal of the stitches, and you bring a new cotton pad back with alcohol to clean them up. Gabriel hisses at the contact, and you rush out apologies under your breath as you finish up. You’d forgotten to warn him, and it’s only something small but you still feel bad.

“Alright, that’s done,” you announce, mostly to yourself. You look over him, deciding which wound to treat next, when your attention is drawn to the way he seems to be shaking a little on the spot. He’s not as grounded as he was earlier when he sat down with you, and even though you have much more work to do you can tell intrinsically that this is the most he can take right now. Dressing his other wounds would have to wait until tomorrow.

You turn to find Sam already giving the archangel a scrutinising look, apparently arriving at the same conclusion you had. He gives you a nod and you let out a soft breath, turning back to Gabriel and offering your hands should he need them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Let’s get you back to the room.”

You can only hope tomorrow will offer the same amount of progress as today.

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#supernatural gabriel #supernatural #supernatural fic #gabriel x reader #supernatural gabriel x reader #gabriel x you #supernatural gabriel x you #supernatural soulmate au #soulmate au #my work #alexa play candyshop #spn fic #spn gabriel #gabriel fic #gabriel series #gabriel fanfic #supernatural series #wing fic

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phoenix-downer · 4 years ago

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White Day Surprise

2026 words. Contains spoilers for Melody of Memory. SoKai. Romance, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mutual Pining, White Day, Pi Day, Baking, and most importantly, Pie.

Successor to this story I wrote for Christmas and this story I wrote for Valentine’s Day.

Sora wanted to do something special for Kairi for White Day. She’d gone out of her way to make Valentine’s Day special, so it was only right he returned the favor. Back home, that meant giving her a gift that was, uh twice? three times? the value of the original. But her letter was priceless, and those chocolates were special too, so he was at a loss as to what to do.

He paced back and forth in this place that looked like the Final World. He couldn’t give her a gift right now. Couldn’t tell her how he felt yet (not with words anyway) because she wanted him to wait till they met again. So what was he supposed to do?

Something that involved taking control of her body was all he had. His face flushed. No, not like that. Putting this whole body-sharing thing into words always made it sound worse than it actually was. He always waited till he had permission and immediately ceded control the moment she asked him to.

He plopped onto the watery ground that somehow didn’t ever get him wet and scoured his brain for ideas. What would he do if this was a normal White Day, if he was fully back in the Realm of Light with his own body at his disposal?

“Take her on a date. Maybe to the Bistro. Or I could cook or bake her something myself using the stuff Little Chef taught me.” He perked up. “That’s it! I’ll make something for her. I’ll just need to write down the ingredients so she can get them and then ask her for control when it’s time to actually make the stuff.”

He made a mental list about what he’d need for the recipe and then patiently waited. Something told him Kairi would be reaching out to him soon.

Sure enough, he eventually heard her voice.

“Sora? Want to take over for a bit?”

He followed her voice, chased it, pursued it till he was in her body. She was in her room on the Land of Departure, lying on her bed, and sunlight was streaming through the window. Must be morning, and she probably just woke up.

Hey, Kairi, he signed. Happy White Day.

“Happy White Day to you too.”

Desk, he gestured.

“You want to write something?”

He nodded.

“Okay. You can take control.”

He gently got her up out of bed and walked her body to the desk. She had a little diary for the two of them to write to each other now, and he opened it and grabbed a pen.

Ingredients List

Butter

Sugar

Whipped Cream

Coconut Chips or Shavings

Coconut Milk

He was about to write another ingredient when she interrupted.

“You want to bake me something for White Day, don’t you? You’re the sweetest.”

He smiled and continued, listing off the rest of the ingredients. When everything looked good, he added, Can you get these for me?

“Of course. We should have most of the stuff around the castle except for the coconut-related things. But I can buy them for you, okay? Or bop back to Destiny Islands real quickly if need be.”

Please do. I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you for your Valentine’s gift.

“Leave it to you to figure out a way to make it work. I assume you’ll want to do the baking yourself too, right?”

Yeah. I’d do it in my own body if I could. Make you a five course meal. When I get back, okay? This’ll have to do for now.

“This is more than enough.”

Talk to you soon.

He had to let go of the connection for now because he sensed danger. Curse the stupid monsters in Quadratum who kept pulling him back to their (un)reality. If he missed making Kairi’s gift for her on the appropriate day, these monsters were gonna regret they ever crossed him.

“Riku, where are you?” he grumbled as he fought them off. He knew Riku was somewhere in this reality, they just kept missing each other. It didn’t help that Sora’s heart was jumping all over the place, getting pulled more and more towards Kairi, while his body was stuck here. Glued to this place because abusing the Power of Waking meant it had been banished from the Realm of Light and couldn’t return.

As the last monster disappeared in a puff of smoke, he sighed and wiped his forehead. He was more convinced than ever that his heart’s connection to Kairi was growing stronger by the day. What would it take to get his body out of here too?

“Stupid body,” he said as he scowled at it. “Keeping me trapped here.” He let his Keyblade disappear and slunk towards a private alley. “Kairi won’t want a boyfriend without a body forever.” He sat on a box of crates and cast a barrier around himself to buy some time. “And I don’t wanna be without a body either. I don’t want my options to be body-less in the Realm of Light or trapped here forever.”

Sighing, he closed his eyes, imagining himself back in the Final World-esque place. Thankfully, he was able to will his heart back to Kairi pretty quickly. She was in the castle’s kitchen now, and all of the ingredients he’d asked for were dutifully set out.

Sorry I kept you waiting, he scrawled on the diary she’d left out. Had some monsters show up.

“Monsters? Sora, is it safe for you to be here?”

It is now. Trust me, if my body’s in danger, it lets me know.

“If you’re sure,” she finally said, and he could hear the worry in her voice. “I’ve put you in enough danger before as it is.”

Don’t I get to be the judge of that?

“Sorry, considering your current predicament and how you got there… No. You’re reckless when it comes to your own life if it means keeping me safe.”

Maybe, but I was the one who put myself in danger. Not you. And can you blame me? I wasn’t about to abandon you, with your heart in pieces and at Xehanort’s mercy. You would’ve done the same for me. You did, in fact. You refused to let me die like I was supposed to at the Keyblade Graveyard.

“That was different,” she said tersely. “I didn’t have to die to keep you alive.”

I didn’t either. I’m not dead. My body’s just—

“Cut off from the Realm of Light. How is that all that different from being dead?”

Sora felt like sighing. Kairi… We’re wasting what precious little time we have together fighting. I would gladly fight with you all day if I could, but I’d like to make you the gift I promised.

She hung her head, shoulders slumping. “Sorry, I’m making this about me and my guilt again, and when you’re in such a precarious situation, too.”

It’s okay. Sometimes I think you got the harder end of the bargain, watching me disappear, feeling all alone and abandoned.

“You didn’t abandon me. You came to my aid when I needed you most. And you’re the one who’s cut off from me, from everyone. You have it worse by far.”

Sora was about to write something when Kairi continued. “But today you’re gonna literally walk me through this recipe and we’re gonna have fun, okay? You need this, you need to relax and unwind and have some fun.”

Yeah. And there’s no person I’d rather spend time with than you.

She giggled, and his heart felt warm, hearing her giggle.

“Okay, Master Chef, teach me your ways,” she said, and with that she let him take over. He led her through mixing and chopping and cutting and stirring, and she was ever the attentive student. It had been so long since he’d gotten to bake anything. Since he’d gotten to unwind and have fun like this.

“So we’re making a pie, huh?” she said as he prepared the crust. “Don’t tell me… Coconut cream pie? That’s one of my favorites. And it’s the perfect dessert for White Day. Pi Day, too.”

The pie took a long time to make, but spending that time with Kairi was worth it. He’d spend every moment with her if he could. When at last the pie was chilling in the fridge, she sat at the table so he could write notes to her. His signing was still a work in progress.

Pie should be ready now, he wrote presently.

“Do you want me to eat it while you’re still here? It feels a little rude when you can’t.”

He didn’t like the twinge of melancholy in her voice.

I don’t mind. In fact I kinda want to know what you think.

“Okay,” she said and went to the fridge to grab the pie. It looked amazing with its crispy crust, its creamy filling coated with whipped cream shaped into perfect swirls, and its coconut shavings artfully sprinkled on top. He’d really outdone himself, and he couldn’t wait for her to taste it.

You’ll have to tell me how it is, he scribbled when she was seated at the table once more. She nodded and lifted a forkful of pie to her mouth.

Oh, yum. This pie was creamy and delicious and brought back memories of all the times he’d eaten his mom’s coconut cream pie back home—

Hold on. Hold on. He could taste the pie? How was that even possible?!

“Oh this is amazing,” Kairi cooed as she brought another forkful to her mouth. “Creamy and coconut-y and—”

“Sora?”

Ven was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his mouth hanging open.

“You can see him?” Kairi squeaked, dropping the fork. “That’s never happened before!”

Sora froze. Ven could see him? How?

“Yeah,” Ven said, taking long strides towards them. “It’s like he’s kind of translucent, and I can still see you through him, but yeah, I can see him.”

Ven? Sora tried to say, but no sound came out.

“Do you think—Is his connection to the Realm of Light getting stronger?” Kairi asked, her voice so full of hope Sora could practically feel her heart soaring.

“Yeah, I think it must be,” Ven said. “Hang on, lemme get Terra and Aqua.” He paused for a moment to squeeze Kairi’s hand, and Sora’s felt a little warmer. “Be back in a second.”

The taste of the pie, the warmth of Ven’s hand… He wasn’t imagining this stuff, was he?

Kairi, diary, he signed, and she let him take control so he could write.

I could taste the pie. I felt Ven’s hand when he squeezed yours.

“That’s great, Sora! I think your body is trying to follow your heart back to the Realm of Light.”

Was it possible? He wanted it to be possible. He wanted to come home.

“Here, let me eat more of that pie, you must be starving.”

Please, he signed.

Kairi lifted the fork to her lips again when he felt a strong tugging on his heart.

“No,” she cried in frustration. “You can’t leave yet!”

Be back soon, he signed sadly. His heart was getting pulled back with a vengeance now, which meant he needed to protect his body. Happy White Day, Kairi.

“Happy White Day, Sora,” she said, and with that, he was back in Quadratum. Oh, great, more monsters had found him, and it was raining now too. He groaned and summoned his Keyblade. He’d much rather be eating coconut cream pie with Kairi in the Land of Departure’s warm and bright castle kitchen.

He was so close to finding a way home. Right on the edge. If he’d just had a little more time, he could’ve done it. Still, he was grateful for the moments he and Kairi had shared today. Making the pie and then tasting it together. He was more determined than ever to make it home to her. If he succeeded, then he and Kairi could spend as much time together as they wanted.

For that, he’d keep on fighting, however long it took.

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A/N: This fic is dedicated to the lovely @angel-with-a-pipette for coming up with the idea of Sora baking something for Kairi when I was trying to think of a follow-up to the Valentine's fic I wrote. Thank you again for all your help and input!

And Happy White Day and Happy Pi Day to you all! Thank you for reading!

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jonnyvangelis · 4 years ago

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brass & peaches: chp. 2

in which jonny and brian actually talk. and everything’s dusty all the time. and the author commits accent crimes. also there's a horse. 1300 words, light swearing.

Jonny squints down the road and pulls back on the reins slowly, giving a pat to the horse’s withers and sliding off in front of the main gate- a rusting sign hangs over top, ironwork bent to read,

BRASSMITH & SON

The scruffy man stretches, a hand coming to press at his lower back, the second coming up to his mouth to call out an “Anyone home? It’s Jonny V- d’Ville, heard you needed work.” He squints again, cursing his lack of a hat (though he spent his hat money on food for the horse).

A copper puff pops up from the orchard just the other side of the fence- then the head attached, Jonny registers that it’s hair, and Brian scowls for a moment before he recognizes the man and horse (from his description in a letter a few days back) and a grin splits his face. He waves Jonny over and calls something that gets lost on the wind.

Jonny stands frozen for a moment, blinking.

Oh no.

He’s cuter than a fucking puppy.

And Jonny realizes a half-second later that the man with the golden retriever grin who greets him as his feet take him through the gate is metal, and his eyebrows shoot up as he takes a step back. He regrets it immediately as Brian’s smile falters, and Jonny steadies himself, swallowing hard. He offers a hand when he’s close enough- firm, jaw set tight, and nods. “You’re Brian, yeah?” He lowers his voice purposefully and levels Brian with a look that’s probably meant to be tough.

The taller man tips his hat low over his eyes and nods curtly (if Jonny didn’t know any better, he’d say the man was blushing. How the fuck the bastard can blush, Jonny’s not sure.) “That I am,” and Jonny’s hit with another shock— Brian’s accent is English with a twang matching his own, like Irish but a bit to the left. “I meant to send you a letter ‘bout it, but you showed up before I could send it. My father ain’t around this summer, something came up business-wise and he made a run for Cincinnati. You might have more work than I can pay you for, if you want to dip early, I—”

“It’s alright, man, I don’t got anywhere else to go. Bed and food on the table’s all I ask.” Jonny offers his sweetest smile (a cringing little thing, his face wasn’t made for subtlety) and fidgets with the reins still held in his hand, unsure how to properly placate the anxious man towering over him.

Brian takes a shaky breath and brings his hat down to his chest, running his free hand through his hair, and looks down at Jonny with a questioning look. “You’re sure? I wouldn’t want you feeling undervalued, your work’s worth proper pay.”

“Promise I won’t sell myself short, being this far from home’s payment enough.” Jonny’s smile turns genuine. Brian seems to soothe, then, his shoulders losing some of their tension, though his easy smile doesn’t quite return.

“I’ll… show you to your room then, yeah?” Brian offers his hand and Jonny’s brow furrows before he links elbows with the taller man, letting him lead on with a nod.

(Jonny lets the horse into the paddock first, pulling all her tack off and making sure she’s alright with Brian’s mare before leaving her be.)

The house is dusty, once-white siding now chipped with decades of wear from the valley’s wind. The porch is covered, curtains sit in the window, and a few pots of perennial flowers bloom and buzz by the railing; it all leans to one side if Jonny squints (and he’s always squinting without a damn hat), lists just barely to the right and brings the tin roof down with it. A squat barn sits a little ways down the path, wider and taller than the house by a good fifty feet, and Jonny can hear the huff and bustle of the cows before he can smell them. Chickens peck at the path and dry grass in front of the house— fluffy little bastards that only come halfway up his calf and orange as the hair of the man he clings to. Their run, he figures, is at the back of the house.

Brian shoulders the door open with a creak from its hinges and a soft grunt (hangs his hat on the rack), leading Jonny through a small front room and heading for a hallway just past the ice box. There’s a gas stove, counters that were probably at one time shiny, tile floor in the corner that could, politely, be called a kitchen. An overstuffed couch sits facing the kitchen table, a comfy-looking armchair opposite it, and a rug that looks older than the two men combined protecting the wood floor from the heavy furniture best it can. Atop the shoddy coffee table is… Jonny figures it’s a radio, with the speaker in the front like that, but it’s small and boxy and looks to have a handle and all manner of dials and whatnot. Between the couch and kitchen sits a tiny round breakfast table, two chairs, and a mason jar full of pressed flowers. His attention is dragged away from the living room when he realizes Brian is looking down at him with an amused concern, and he startles some, trying to drag his attention back to what Brian meant to show him.

The room is small, but the bed is big. He takes a tentative step forward, Brian releasing his arm at the barest tug, and he takes a seat, eyes widening then falling shut as he feels himself sink just enough to be comfortable. He lets himself fall back, his legs still hanging off the bed, and lets out a soft groan, wriggling his shoulders a bit in an effort to bury himself in the soft fabric. The quilt is Heaven on a sore back, and he hasn’t felt such soft a surface in weeks. He cracks an eye open when he notices a strange huff, and blushes hard upon realizing that Brian’s trying in earnest not to laugh. He sits upright like a sprung trap and hikes his shoulders up, swallows hard, and tries to stammer out something about second hand saddles when Brian just shakes his head and smiles that easy puppy-grin and placates, “You’ve been riding a while, from the sound of it. You deserve the rest.”

Jonny opens his mouth to protest, but can’t think of a proper one to give. “I… could do with a nap.”

“Then take one, I’ll make lunch and wake you when it’s done.” Brian takes a step back and rests his hand on the doorframe, walking out the room with a nod as Jonny sets about stripping some layers, kicking his boots off by the dresser and closing the door so he can get his shirt off and dust his jeans nearly clean.

He winces at his reflection in the standing mirror. His long hair’s a ratty mess from riding in the wind so long— Hell, it’s a problem that it’s long at all, he’d had it shaved back with Jack— his goatee’s nearly a proper beard, and his undershirt’s a sweaty mess. His arms are a good two shades pinker from the elbow down (same with his neck and face), not that it’s any surprise, but he reckons he looks pitiful. He scrubs his hands over his face, instantly regrets it as the rough skin on his palms grates on his tender cheeks, and tugs off his undershirt, falling on top of the blankets of the bed and curling up for as long a nap as he can manage.

He rests easy for the first time in a long time.

#the mechanisms #jonny d'ville #drumbot brian #my fic #small town au #brass & peaches

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