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warmau · 4 years

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a sinking feeling has you rooted to the floor. staring at the lock of your front door as someone knocks politely over and over again.

“what are you doing?”

your mother’s voice gusts past you like a breeze, she leans over your frozen figure and turns the knob.

you step back to avoid being hit by the door and dread the light that washes over your mothers face

“doyoung! come in!”

he steps through and all you catch is a bit of side profile, hidden behind the gigantic plant he’s holding

“oh! that’s the orchid your mother was just up in a fit about? come here sweetie, place it on the kitchen table -”

his footsteps echo and you shrink a little, he didn’t even look at me.

you’re thankful for your mothers insolent obsession with being a good host and trudge your way back to your room

doyoung is in your house.

which is weird, the first time he was in your house - you knew, obviously, but he was uninvited. your mother didn’t welcome him through the door.

now - for the past month - after both his mother and yours had come to a unbreakable bond over their indoor houseplants

doyoung has very much been a presence, an invited presence, a presence everyone but you seemed to be delighted about

“he’s such a nice boy, he’s spending his summers tutoring younger kids and i see him biking all around town.”

your mother gushes almost every time at dinner after doyoung leaves - delivering whatever ailing plant his mother has sent to yours to fix and play botanist with

you pick at your food

yeah, he’s a nice boy. that’s what makes this all so much worse.

now - you’re laying on your sheets with your hand on your stomach and staring up at the wall thinking very much the same thought.

he’s so nice, and so perfect, and everything anyone ever dreams of. why am i such an idiot for not wanting that?

you drum your fingers and again spiral back into the memory that keeps itself wedged between you and him like a piece of food that’s stuck so sternly between teeth, no pushing at it with your tongue helps.

summer starts in ten days, officially you know - by the university calendar. you’re supposed to be focusing on a final paper for some elective politics class you took, but you’re not. you’re staring at the back of doyoung’s neck. he sits in front of you for most lectures.

“hey, do you know anything about this military-first politics and nuclear armament essay prompt the professor gave us?”

doyoung turns slowly, blinking at you from behind his thin-wired classes, “yeah - it’s been the topic of discussion and reading for like a week.”

you know you sound kind of stupid to even ask - but you will admit, politics isn’t your thing and it seems to really be doyoungs - so you smile, with a please pity me kind of look in your eye. doyoung sighs, but he gets up and slides into the seat beside you - opening up the half blank word document on your laptop.

that’s it. that’s all it was going to be. doyoung helping you skid by, so that your summer isn’t ruined by a shitty grade.

but that’s not what happens. at all.

doyoung instead spends a lot of time helping you write a good enough paper to pull through a B-.

that means a lot of alone time in the library, in study hall, in the empty halls of the school buildings where classes have ended and no one is around.

it’s a lot of being shoulder to shoulder with him, realizing how nice he always smells - how long his fingers are when they type - how he doesn’t have a significant other because no one except his friends ever end up interrupting you.

it’s the day after you get your grades for the semester, something about getting the paper back sparks a fire in you

you scope doyoung out at the coffeeshop and exclaim that you and him did it!

a couple of heads whip around, did it?, you quickly add some mumbling about the paper.

doyoung laughs, it’s the first time you’ve heard the genuine sound, because most of the time he just makes a half-sided smirk or chuckle.

you buy him an iced latte as repayment and somehow end up walking out of there with side by side.

doyoung asks if you live near by if you don’t dorm, you say you do. he does too. that’s weird - you’ve never seen him around the neighborhood.

after that you pretend it’s a blur. because truth be told it isn’t.

you and doyoung are going to be taking the same train anyway, why not take it together. you and doyoung are going to know the same little places around town, why not talk about them.

why not? why not? why not?

why not invite him inside when you’re back in your hometown, why not lead him up to your room just so he can see it and why not kiss him when he leans over you.

people your age do it all the time, they hookup. that’s the only answer to that stupid hanging ‘why not?’

so when you felt doyoung’s fingers graze down your side and he’d clumsily gotten his glasses off just in time for you to pull his shirt up over his head

you were convinced it meant nothing. you were convinced he thought the same.

then it all happens and you can’t take it back.

especially not the part where you’re laying on your bed, just like you are now, waiting for doyoung to start gathering his things and instead a hand loops around your sweaty waist.

“aren’t you going to leave?”

the words blurt out of your mouth before you even think about it.

the tension that stalled in the room had been so horrible you swore you’d felt it seep into every pore, damn near trickling itself down the walls.

doyoung had darkened, pulled himself away from you, and disappeared before you could string together your next thought.

part of you had been relieved, the other part felt like the biggest asshole on the planet.

you were just grateful the rest of the summer could easily be passed by keeping away from each other - until your mother had found her new best friend.

downstairs you can hear doyoung shuffling around with your mothers plants, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but you’re sure your mother is inviting him to stay and eat with you. asking doyoung about his amazing future plans to become a lawyer. enthralled by everything he is as a child and that you, most likely, are not.

when he finally leaves and the commotions die down you can’t get up

this is the most confusing moment.

not the whole ignoring each other when he pops over, not the whole reliving the past from just a glimpse.

it’s why - when it happened, you had been so content with it just staying nothing - you had been the one to make that decision for the both of you

yet

why does it seem like you’re wallowing in it, clinging to it, imaging it all over

every time he comes over

because you didn’t just want a hook-up. you wanted doyoung and were playing it off because having a crush on him isn’t worth it right?

your mind coils itself through a storm

you thought he only wanted to sleep with you too, because the thought of someone as good as doyoung liking you just doesn’t make sense?

despite the summer heat, you feel cold

you’re not good enough to actually be liked, to be the person doyoung chooses for something more than just your-

your phone rings and you sit up so fast it gives you a headache, you feel around and bring it to your ear without checking the number

“hello?”

“our mothers are trying to set us up on a date.”

you want to be anywhere in the world, but here.

doyoung’s blank expression doesn’t let you know if he feels the same, but the way he won’t get in at least eight feet of you is telling enough.

you’re in his backyard, well technically you’re in his neighbors backyard, because he doesn’t want to be visible behind the hedges

rather be caught dead than be next to me, right?

you shrill at yourself and try to bury the wince you make internally

“i think you should just tell them you have another boyfriend.”

“i can’t lie to my mother.”

you start and doyoung watches you chew on your lower lip and retreat defensively a step back

“why not?”

“she’s noisy - she’ll find out. she’ll insist until i die to meet this ‘other boyfriend’. plus i’m not a good liar.”

“really? could have fooled me.”

doyoung straightens himself as he says that, eyes unblinking behind the frames of his glasses

i probably deserve that. well actually-

“doyoung, i never promised you anything when we-”

the words wilt and doyoung suddenly looks over his shoulder.

“you’re right, you never promised me anything. im the one who was a fool for ever thinking it was something.”

you look at the grass.

you wonder, if you had not said that one sentence - aren’t you going to leave - would this summer be different?

would you and doyoung be spending every second together, holding each other at the beach? kissing under the fireworks? sharing ice-cream and diving into pools filled of water and your laughter?

the thought blooms something in your chest

i wish - i wish it was that.

“you say i should lie, but you’re pretty good at it too doyoung.”

“excuse me?”

“it’s not like you - it’s not like you really wanted it to be anything more than it was.”

you think the grass is going to burst into flames with how hard you’re concentrating on it.

“what, you’re telling me-” you swallow “you’re telling me you actually wanted to be with me after? our mothers are trying to get us to go on a date and you called me out here just to avoid that.”

he leans forward

“if you are trying to make me the only guilty party here-”

he’s closer and you feel your voice shake a little, but you try to push to the end of your thought.

“im not, you never made any effort to make it seem like you had any genuine emotion so am i so wrong for just assuming it was just se-”

his hands, large and gentle, manage to find your shoulders and doyoung presses his lips to yours

you stiffen from the external shock, but then relax under the light grip

his breath smells sweet, like he’s been chewing bubblegum, he’s wearing the same cologne he does at university

“i don’t just sleep with people.”

he whispers against your mouth

“nothing against it, but i don’t think there’s a point to sharing something intimate with someone who i don’t want in every possible way.”

when you and doyoung agree to go on a date - both your mothers lose it. they’re convinced you’re soulmates.

although you and doyoung both agree they’re thinking way too far ahead in the future - it doesn’t mask the fact that the attraction that ends up forming between you two is undeniable

doyoung is so determined and intently goal orientated that you would think there isn’t the capacity to have fun in one bone in his body, but that’s not true

when he’s comfortable, he’s charming and full of humor - he makes you double over with laughter more than you could have imagined

and you aren’t as spacey and shy as doyoung might have assumed either, you have a competitive streak and you make doyoung feel like this is the summer of his life

the summer of his life that someone could probably make a decent coming of age film out of

he brings it up after you two exit a movie that was just about the same topic and you look down at your hands intertwined and shake your head

“no they’d never cast the right people to play us.”

doyoung sees the reflection of the milky way in your eyes, but he doesn’t say it

“no one on this planet is like you.”

he returns this sentiment with a small kiss that bumps this glasses against the bridge of your nose.

you get nervous sometimes when you think about how the summer started, it’s not like you’re living in the middle ages where intimacy is a sin before eternal commitment or anything

no you just get nervous because the reason you ever even made that situation as bad as it was, was because of your insecurity

does doyoung actually like me? did two weeks of being together at school make him realize something about me is worth it?

you can’t ask him that - even though sometimes you want to, so you can explain why you hadn’t just rolled over and nuzzled yourself into the dip of his chest

much like you do now - you fit so perfectly right between his arms

instead it sometimes gnaws at you until doyoung is cleaning his glasses over your sink and you’re sitting in the bathtub looking at him

your parents are ironically over at doyoungs for some wine party or whatever and although your mothers are in awe about you two being “a cute lil couple”

they see that - cute, part of it makes you snort. you and doyoung sometimes act more mature than they do.

“i always knew you were staring at me in lecture.” he starts and a little smirk pulls at his long lips

you flick some of the water at him and he leans against the counter

he doesn’t like baths, he prefers showers, but he still stays in the room with you when you take them

“i wasn’t staring at you.”

“you were staring at the back of my neck.”

you look away because fair, not like he spends a lot of time looking away from the professor.

“so i knew you liked me, or something about me. that’s why it hurt.”

“when we-”

“yes and i like being logical, so not having a real answer for why that all happened like it did still haunts me.”

he tilts his head and you see the line of his thin collarbones through his shirt

“i thought you’d say it first.”

he blinks

“i thought you’d say something like, that was cool. ill see you at uni come fall. and then leave. so i mean, i didn’t even say go leave - i asked, aren’t you going to leave?”

doyoung is smart so he gets what you’re saying in the most roundabout way possible

he walks over and squats down, leans over the ridge of the bath to kiss you and doesn’t complain when you bring your soapy hands up to cradle his neck

“im sorry i did leave, i should have just said what i felt right there.”

he mutters and you nod. you should have said it too.

when you and doyoung graduate and he goes on to law school and you start working, you almost break up - twice - because of the stress

but somehow neither of you can ever ask the other one

aren’t you going to leave?

because neither of you ever really wants to.

so you don’t, you stay through all the hardships, through every argument and bump in the road.

you stay, you choose to stay and so does he and you might not even fall asleep next to each other on some days but the heat of the person you love is always there.

and then doyoung gets his first big promotion at his job, runs all the way home with the news and ends up breathing hard and talking nonsense to you in your shared kitchen

“you need a shower.”

you say, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he shakes his head, no. he needs a bath.

you lean back against his chest, stronger and broader as he’s aged.

he looks down at you and even the eyebags that have gotten darker with all that work he does don’t do anything to make him less attractive

you peck his chin, because it’s what you can reach.

“if we sit here any longer we’re going to prune.”

“are you going to be the first one to leave?”

he asks and you shake your head.

you’ll sit here forever if that’s what it takes.

on the counter of the bathroom, there’s one of the houseplants your mothers keeps shipping to you.

you don’t notice that it’s the same orchid that doyoung carried into your house all those years ago, when you thought he hadn’t even looked at you when your mother opened the door.

he curls a strand of your wet hair around his finger.

he had looked at you, quickly, but he had done it.

even half covered by orchid leaves, you’d made his mouth dry.

“no seriously though - we will prune.”

“i’ll get up if you get up?”

i’ll never leave, the only way i’ll leave is if it means im taking you with me.

#im late..........dont look at me #happy late bday king #doyoung au #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct #doyoung #nct 127 #nct u #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #nct 127 scenarios #member: doyoung #kim doyoung au #nostolgic au #suggestive/

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mxvladdy · 3 years

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Lost Affections: Part 3

Ayyyyoooo. Here is the last part to @marymaryroo's request!

On to the next one :)

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Beelzebub

Beel would never call himself accident-prone. He didn’t trip and stumble like Belphie when sleep deprived. He most certainly wasn’t as bad as Mammon when he was without his glasses or contacts. No, he would never say he was that bad. While not clumsy he knew he could be careless, especially when food was in the picture. He didn’t think twice about eating random things. It did hurt anyone, not physically. Sure, Luke and Satan got a little put out when he swiped something, but it didn’t hurt them.

He just forgets sometimes that you are different. You and he go together so well he forgets that you aren’t a demon. You don’t have the steel stomach or fast recovery time that he has. You make up for it. When you go out to eat you always research the place ahead of time. Does the place have non-enchanted food? Human grade options? If not, you make sure that Beel has his fill before taking him somewhere more appropriate for your stomach. Neither of you thinks about residual contaminants.

His life with you unravels with kisses. It is a slow, inconspicuous death. It builds over time with each brush of his lips to yours. Neither of you notices the taste of magic clinging to his mouth or tongue, neither of you thinks of the implications of all the weird potions and food he samples.

It starts small, you forget simple things about him. When his club activities ended, or what his favorite post-game drink was. He brushes it off, it’s trivial really. You are busy and these things can happen to the best of them. He keeps brushing off the nagging worry until he can’t.

It comes to a head one night at the door to your room. “Beel?” You yawn, pulling your robes closer around you. “What’s up?” You glance down at the box of snacks and pillows in his hands. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s date night.”

Your brows shoot up, facing heating. “What.” You sputter. Beel frowns, placing the box at his feet. With slow movements, he places his hand on your forehead. You were a little warm.

“Mmmmm.” His hearts flutter with nerves. Was his little human sick? He ignores the way you stiffen when he touches you. “Do you need a doctor?” He asks bending down to look you in the eye. He catches a whiff of something when you exhale. It is faint but clings to your breath, it’s sickly sweet and sharp to his nostrils. “You need a doctor.”

Without a second thought, he grabs your arm and drags you out of your room. His food forgotten in the hallway with your protests buzzing in his ears. “Beel...Beel!” You stumble after him. He ignores you each step he takes determined and picks up speed. Before you know it you are sitting next to Gluttony in Purgatory waiting for Solomon, beyond confused and anxious.

You fidget on the couch, peeking glances at the troubled look on the red-heads face. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of few words, sure, but this was new. Beel left you to your devices mostly, a few polite conversations here and there, but you two never hung out a lot. You zone out when he starts talking to Solomon. You were still half asleep from Beel waking you up. You had been sleeping so soundly beforehand. “Are you alright?” You jerk awake unaware that you started dozing again. Solomon crouches in front of you.

“I think so?” You had no idea what this was about. “I’m just tired.” The mage says nothing to you, instead turning to glance at Beel. He jerks his head to the door, a clear signal for the old demon to wait outside.

With one last pitiful glance, Beelzebub leaves the two humans to converse. “Now then.” Solomon rounds his piercing eyes back to you. “Tell me how's your stay in the Devildom?”

You tell him confused but willing to play along with his odd request, the sooner you wrap this up the sooner you can go back to bed. An odd feeling of missing something begins to grow as you tell him. Soon you began to fumble, the harder you try to recount something the harder it was to collect. You still were convinced anything was seriously wrong but the growing look of concern on Solomon’s face was making you think otherwise. “So,” You finish rubbing your knees with sweaty palms. “I’m I dying or something?”

He laughs dismissing the notion with a wave of a well-manicured hand. “No, no your soul is still firmly in place.” He rubs his chin. “But you have lost your memory, only when it comes to Beelzebub though. It is very peculiar. Have you ingested anything weird of late? Done any experiments with Satan?” You shake your head. To the best of your knowledge, you have been really careful with your food intake while down here. Devildom foods were delicious but had potential side effects for you and Solomon.

Solomon nods. He figured that. “Could I draw some blood? It sounds to me like you might have trace contamination of some kind. Diavolo and I discussed that this might happen but I wish to double-check.” Well, that’s worrisome, you nod and begin to roll up your sleeve. Solomon bustles collecting a few vials and a mouth swab for extra measure.

“Thank you.” He smiles looking at the samples with scientific glee. “I will let you know what I find. Until then, I guess just go about your regular day. Unless you feel ill, in that case, come to me immediately.” With that, he leaves you depositing you back with Beel.

The walk back to the House was more subdued, both of you were confused as to what to do next. “So,” You flounder. “We were-are an item?”

He shrugs looking down at you. “Yes. We’d hang out in your room on Saturdays, and get brunch on Sundays... do you still want to?”

You shrug feeling awkward. You felt nothing but platonic friendship to the large demon, though Solomon did fill you in on what you apparently have forgotten. “If you want to? I’m up now, and too nervous to sleep.” Beel grunts clenching his fists at his side.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should rest, even if you can’t sleep. This is overwhelming. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” You feel bad. He sounds so hopeful when he asks, like a good night’s sleep was all you needed to fix whatever this was.

You reach for his big hand and squeeze it. “Sure, Beelzebub. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets you go watching you head back into the house. Running on instinct he turns and heads into the dense forest surrounding the house. He needed to hunt for a bit.

That’s how his twin finds him, gorging himself on the fauna of the forest. Belphie’s socked feet pad loudly over the dried grass and scattered bones of the once lush lowlands. “You know Lucifer is going to be pissed. It takes forever for the wildlife to come back after one of your benders.” He tosses his oversized pillow onto the dead grass and lays down. Belphie doses for a moment, the sound of his brother’s many mouths and whistling of wings a white noise to him. Up until an obnoxious locus landed on his nose.

“Beel.” He flicks the bug off his face, shooting the swarm coating his brother’s skin a sour look. “What’s going on?”

Forgot. Me. One of his mouths rattles out, flecks of meat and vegetation falling from between crooked and jagged teeth. Another opens near his rib cage to speak. They. Don’t. Love. Me.

“I’ll kill them.” Already Belphie is back on his feet. He feels for his brother and his plight, but the thought that you betrayed him after you promised to never hurt Beel took precedence. The storm of bugs goes quiet, all the millions of eyes now turn to him. They jerk and twitch in unison before converging back on the mass of leathery gaunt skin of his brother. His human form takes shape slowly, shiny wings and many mandibled skulls melding together to create his flesh.

Beel grabs Belphie’s shoulders. His claws dig into the soft fabric of his nightshirt. “It’s not their fault.”

“Then who?” Beel chuckles weakly at his brother’s blood lust. He couldn’t deny that he felt it too, but he had no idea where to channel this anger.

So he ate. It calmed him a little. If he could get into the village and eat there...no. The last time he siphoned the emotions from the populous at large Lucifer got mad. The whole of the Devildom had to shut down for a good week to recover. He rubs his stomach a feeling of agitation growing in the pits of them. “Don’t know. Solomon is taking a look at it.” Belphie snorts a sneer growing on his lips. “He is helping, Belphie.”

“Sure-right. That boy meddles in all shorts of shit he shouldn’t. Careful he doesn’t try to bargain with your skin for this.” He eyes where your mark rests on his brother. It would be a perfect lure to entrap his twin in a pact.

Hmm.

No, none of this would do. Belphegor would rather die than let some human-like Solomon meddle anymore in his family’s affairs, and as far as he was concerned the moment you started seeing Beel you were as another sibling. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll bring dinner up to our room.”

After settling Beel under the covers of his massive bed Belphie went on the hunt for more food in the kitchen. He stops by your bedroom door picking up the box of goodies still left in front of it. He piles more things into the box when he reaches the kitchen. Swiping up snacks at random Belphie piles the box sky high. His hand stops over a few of your favorite human snacks. Should he? Honestly, it was a blind shot in the dark if it would comfort his brother or not. After a bit more debate Belphie puts the chocolates back, a different idea already turning in his head.

Back in their shared room, he listens to his brother run down the last week between huge bits of sweets. As he recounts every little thing that has gone down they both began to notice just how strange you have been. Both twins sit in the aftermath of Beel’s words, a wasteland of wrapper and silence stretching between them. “Think it will come back?” The twins lock eyes, Beel’s large and unsure but simmering with foolish hope.

“Possibly.” Belphie grits out, breaking their eye contact. He could never lie to his brother, at least not to his face. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will have a plan in motion by tomorrow.” He’ll set his plans in motion tonight.

Lying in wait some hours later Belphie listens through the walls of the massive house for your quick little human heartbeat in your bedroom. He matches his shallow breaths with yours feeling yourself slip into slumber and his realm. Once you are completely under he drifts off himself.

He enters your dreams and scowls unused to stumbling inside of a dreamscape. Your dreams are muddled and clotted with stick webs of confusion and hazy memories. Odd bits and pieces of images drip around the edges of your mind. This place was a disgusting mess. With a deep sigh, Belphie begins trudging through the quagmire.

He peers around making note of the black holes in your mind like canvas ripped from their frames. Rotten magic assaults him from all sides. Stopping in front of a particularly deep gash in your mind he rolls up his oversized sleeves finding what he was looking for. He knew this memory was in it, just on the outskirts of the scene playing out. He could knit this rip back together easily, after that it should give him some clarity on the others he couldn’t place.

This was going to take a lot of energy. No one would notice if he stole some energy to get things started. Belphie smiles to himself already tapping into Lucifer's dreamscape, taking a bit more than he needed. You deserve only the best after all.

__________________

“Morning everyone.” You chirp plopping down in your chair. The brothers reply with groggy acknowledgments, completely unlike themselves. You look around at the bunch. “Are you all ok?” The group grunts collectively yawning or rubbing their weary eyes.

“Tough night.” Lucifer looks up from his newspaper. He was half-dead in his chair, a cup of coffee shaking in his hands. Asmo sits beside him looking on the verge of tears as he gently pokes his swollen cheeks and eyelids. The only two that seem to even be remotely coherent were the twins. The youngest of the two sleeping oblivious to the turmoil of his siblings while his brother stares at your every move. “Good morning Beel.” You nod feeling awkward in this shared space.

“Morning.” He smiles at you, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Something ticks in the back of your mind at his look. A foggy image comes to mind. It feels like a dream, but so real at the same time. It makes you nauseous, a weird sense of dejavu fighting its way to the forefront. “You ok?” He puts a hand on your shoulder.

You blink noticing the room at large turning their gaze to you. You nod, reaching across from him for some leftover food. The moment a bowl of cereal was in your hands Asmo swept you up in a conversation about his “fading” looks. You don’t think of Beel and your predicament for the rest of the day, not until Solomon invites you over to his hall for tea.

“You were poisoned.” He states simply over his sorry excuse of scones. You pause in the middle of trying to break a piece off on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, unless you did it intentionally.” He laughs. “It appears to be through slow ingestion over a long period of time. The levels in your blood are staggering but not lethal. It looks like the magic took root in the temporal lobe-much like a tumor, really quite fascinating- and has been eating away at the memories of the person, or in this case, a demon that poisoned you.” Beel had been poisoning you? Solomon waves his hand at your look of concern. “I am quite positive that it was not intentional. Mind you he does find the most wondrous things to shovel down his gullet. The fact that it mixed perfectly into a potion instead of a lethal toxic is sheer dumb luck on your end.” You breathe a sigh of relief finally tossing the baked good away as a bad job. Well that's...something. At least you’d be alive to stumble around your apparent “forgotten boyfriend”.

“Any chance of fixing this?”

Solomon shrugs. “Possibly? I need more time to figure out exactly what components are involved in your test results. Then making a tonic to undo all the magic is another thing entirely.”He discusses a few other options with you for a few hours, going over in great detail the ins and outs of potion-making. Soon the windows of the sunroom grew dark, the glow of the lamps outside growing brighter so you could see the pathway back to the house.

“I better head back.” You stretch looking out into the pitch outside. Hmmm, if you remember correctly Levi should be off of work by now. He said to call when he was done to come to pick you up. As if on cue a sharp knock on the door disrupts you. Instead of a shock of blue hair, you are greeted with orange. “Oh-hey Beel.”

“Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” He picks up your forgotten school bag and takes your sweater from the coat rack. With a well-practiced motion, he slings the bag over his shoulder and holds your sweater open for you. He obviously did this a lot before…

You stare back wide-eyed at Solomon who only smirks, nodding at you to hurry up.

Out the door and into the chilly night you sneak a peek at Beelzebub walking quietly beside you. He catches your look and raises a brow. “Sorry.” You feel your cheeks heat a little under his thoughtful gaze.

“About?”

“All of this.” You wave at yourself. “Please don’t feel obligated to hang out with me. Until we can get this settled. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Beel grunts, stopping in his tracks by a low garden wall. “I was hurt-am still hurting.” He admits. “But this isn’t your fault, so what good does it do to blame you for it? Even if you don’t remember me as your partner, you still remember me as a friend...right?” A warm smile spreads across his face when you nod. “Then I’m ok with this. I haven’t lost you completely and even if you don’t ever feel the same way about me anymore, I think I will be ok.”

“I- thank you Beel. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He hums. “Let’s head back. I think Asmo left some food out.”

You dream of Beel again, a weird amalgamation of scenes all tossed together in a great pile with you in the middle of it. You could do nothing but watch like a film as they rush by you in a blur. Some scenes didn’t line up right, bouncing around like a scratched vinyl, but it still made sense in a way only a dream could. You play out each dream like an actor, the script coming to you naturally with each little venette. You sit outside his locker room, a basket of food and drink in your lap, your heart fluttering in your chest. You and Beel were watching his brothers on the beach, his broad hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin. Beel walking you back to your room after a long night in the library holding your hand in his strong, sure grip. Saturday afternoons spent hopping from one cafe to the next sampling the sweets and drinks to both of your heart's content.

It grips your heart but slips away with the rise of the young morning moon.

When morning comes the night is nothing more than a few smudges in your mindscape. Yet, a light, sweet feeling stays with you. You found yourself smiling more around the redhead and gravitating to him during the day. He accepts you back with a friendly hug and a friendly ear.

He treats you no differently than you remember. It’s nice. Even if a part of your yearns to see how he treated you when you were more than friends.

You begin to get excited for when your head hits your pillow. The dreams become clearer and clearer each night. Some new pieces show up and fall into place as the weeks progress. You start seeing bits of your dreams in the day too. After-images of you hand in hand with him walking down the other side of the street. The taste of something sweet on your tongue or a familiar scent in your nose.

After one particularly vivid dream, you wake determined not to let the contents of this dream slip through your fingers. This time you dreamt of the kitchen, dirty bowls, and units scattered about the cluttered counters. You had been baking something, and failing miserably.

Sneaking down to the kitchens you pull out all the things you could remember. For some reason, this dream lit a fire in you, like it was the last piece of the puzzle to getting it all back. You don’t think, instead, you just let your body take control. You baked a cake.

Well, it was supposed to be a cake. The center was too spongy and collapsed inward while the sides were dark and cracked. The icing was badly blended and melting from the still-warm pastry. It was almost exactly like the one from your dream.

You stare at it waiting for some great revelation, but nothing comes. Great. Now what?

“I smell food.”

“Gods!” You jerk smacking your knee on your bar stool. Beel’s deep voice scaring you half to death. “Should put a bell on you.” You grin. Beel peeks his head through the door brows furrowed.

“This is familiar.” He walks in pulling up another chair to sit next to you.

“Ye?” You look back at him.

“Yes. This was our first kiss.” You drop your icing spoon. “You wanted to surprise me before a big game.” He put a finger through the thick black and purple icing and pops it in his mouth. “Ah- You forgot the bane extract...I had thought that perhaps you remembered.” The hope in his voice stung your chest.

Oh. You look down at the mess you made, whatever feelings of satisfaction are lost. “I thought I was forgetting something, but my dreams are all blurry.”

“Dreams?” Beel pauses reaching for a slice. “You dreamt of this?”

“Yes. Been dreaming about you a lot of late.” You flush. “Little things that are starting to build a bigger picture. I just had this dream of a cake and the urge to make one...so- here we are.” You wave your hand out over the messy kitchen. Sighing plopping your chin down on your palm. “Guess I can sleep on it a bit more huh?” You shoot him a quick wink and sad smile.

“Or just ask Belphie.” He shrugs, taking another large slice of the disaster. “Sounds like he’s been meddling.” That realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Damn, you could have slapped yourself. “I’m sure he meant well, but he shouldn’t force you if you don’t want to. I could tell him to stop.”

What! No! You shake your head. “No. I-I don’t mind it. Solomon has yet to figure anything out, and whatever your brother is doing seems to be helping a little.” Beelzebub said nothing to that and just continued to eat while you started the dishes.

“Do you want to end tonight like we did before?” He asks sometime later, half of the dishes now drip drying in the rack. His long arms box you in on either side holding on to the lip of the sink. His head dips low, his chin resting on the top of your head. Deep down you knew that you could leave at any time. His grip was loose and easily breakable, considerate as ever to your comforts.

You turn to face him, a soft look crosses his face. “And how did it end?” He grins moving closer. You would have to thank Belphie for his interference. Just, perhaps later. You doubted he would want to be in your dreams tonight.

#obey me fan fic #obey me beel x mc #obey me beelzebub #fan fic requests #obey me fandom #obey me

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

serre-moi fort | j. changmin

🐈 pairing: bf!changmin x fem! reader 🐈 word count: 2.2k 🐈 genre: fluff, domestic!au 🐈 tw: none, maybe the overuse of nicknames (?) 🐈 synopsis: while changmin goes out for a run, you decide to do some self-care and unfold the hammock dusting on the side of your house. 🐈 a/n: part 4/14 of my french project!! with my baby boi changmin!! i am sorry if i still haven’t written your request or i take too long to finish it, but the inspo hasn’t been really present 🤕🥺 i’ll make sure to write more!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

A yawn escaped from your mouth as you blocked the light out of your eyes with your elbow, feeling extra sleepy as your alarm clock hadn’t rung off yet. What a great mistake you did by accepting your boyfriend’s idea of starting to wake up early, you should have refused last night. You groaned as the annoying sound of an alarm finally rang, blindly searching for your phone on the bedside table. Changmin stirred on his side of the bed, turning to the side in great search of your body. Once he found it, he let out a sigh and kept his eyes closed, warm mouth resting against your exposed shoulder. Your hand settled on his forearm wrapped around your middle and you pecked his cheekbone, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the quietness of the morning for a while.

Changmin sat up after a few minutes, head heavily following the rest of his body. He stared at you still lying on your side, his hand gently rubbing your knee and he offered you a gentle smile when you opened your eyes to look at him. You mimicked him as he stood up, yawning as his hand rubbed his abs while making his way towards the kitchen. You deeply sighed as the birds started chirping, helping you slowly and start the day tranquilly.

Once you stood up, you went and opened the windows, letting the pale light and the fresh morning air from outside invading your room. The sky was still gloomy as it had just stopped pouring, the light fog due to the rain lingering around your neighbourhood, progressively disappearing as it rose in the sky. You wrapped your cardigan around your shoulders and joined your boyfriend in the kitchen, a hand gently stroking the back of his head, playing with the spiky, shorter hair. Changmin smiled at your display of affection and turned around to kiss you on the cheek.

“Are you eating this before going for a run?” you asked as you observed him spreading butter and honey on two toasts, only to find him shaking his head with a smile. “I was planning on bringing the toasts to my baby back in bed, but it seems like it’s too late,” he said, and your face fell, making your boyfriend giggle. “Oh, I didn’t know, Changmin. We’re so rarely together, I didn’t want to miss an opportunity of being with you,” you said, and he giggled, circling his arm around your shoulders. “It’s okay, Y/N. Let’s have breakfast together now that you are up,” he suggested and you nodded, kissing him on the lips as he handed you the plate he prepared for you.

Changmin sat across from you, a banana and a protein shake in front of him. He never liked eating a lot before going on a run, he hated working out feeling nauseous or having a heavy stomach, hence the super light breakfast. You, on the other hand, had worked out yesterday, and since you only did it every other day, it was your rest day today. Changmin only had the weekend to go for a run since his work was keeping him extremely busy. Living this kind of life wasn’t the best when it came to personal life, but he was passionate about his job, so it was natural for him to make sacrifices.

“I’m going, babe. I’ll be back in over an hour,” he said while standing up, winking at you as he placed everything in the dishwasher before disappearing back in your shared bedroom.

He appeared a few minutes later, all clad in black gym equipment with a rain jacket from his favourite football (soccer) team. He walked up to you, the plastic of his shoes squeaking on the tiled floor and kissed your forehead as you were drinking the rest of your orange juice.

“Have fun and be careful!” you said as he walked out the door, waving at you from the kitchen window as he walked past it.

Weekends weren't only meant for fitness activities, it also meant self-care for you. So, after brushing your teeth and changing into your home clothes, you decided to grab a book and go read outside. The temperature was quite chilly since it was still quite early, but the cold couldn’t reach your body as you were wrapped into Changmin’s long black hoodie. You walked across the living room and opened the sliding glass door, shutting it behind you as you put down your book on the wooden table.

Walking to the side of the house, you found the hammock you had decided to randomly buy while browsing the web, and it was one of the best purchases you did for your house after the pillow made for taking baths. You unfolded it and cosied it up a bit by adding some pillows and two extra blankets, comfortably lying in it after taking your book from the table.

You had forgotten how fascinating this book was, getting back into the story as soon as you read the last sentence of the previous chapter. Not even noticing your surroundings, the neighbour’s cat casually yet carefully walked across your small garden and meowed before disappearing under the fence, but you didn’t hear it. Your hand dangling outside the hammock, grabbing some petals of the flowers planted under you and playing with them between your fingers, carefully reading the story as you were close to finishing the book you had started a few weeks ago.

Slamming the book shut after reading the last sentence, you sighed and wiped the tear that threatened to fall from your eye and rested the book on the floor. Crossing your arms on your chest, you observed the light blue sky before sinking deeper into the hammock, the wind acting as a gentle caress as it blew on your face. Resting a foot on the floor, you gave a quick swing to the hammock before replacing your limb under the blankets, feeling it move side to side as you closed your eyes. The slow shift rocking you like a baby in their mother’s arms, and you fell back asleep right here, face tucked into your boyfriend’s hood over your head.

The neighbour’s cat came back a few minutes later and gently licked your hand dangling off the hammock, careful of not waking you up. It sat near the glass window, its whines stopping as you weren’t responding, too deep into Morpheus’ arms to come back to reality.

The three-coloured creature ran off as soon as the front door shut close, Changmin heavily breathing as he had just stopped his sports watch. Looking around the house, he wiped the sweat pearling off his forehead with his sleeve as he called your name, a smile forming on his lips as he saw you on the patio.

Just like you did an hour and a half ago, he slid the glass door open and closed it without making a noise, gently talking to the cat as it came to him, tail raising in the air while walking towards the sweaty man. Approaching you with the cat on his heels, he admired your sleepy face as your fist was resting against your cheek, pushing up the skin under your eye in a cute way. He brought the blanket further up to your chin and delicately kissed your forehead, the action making you shift.

“I’m home, sweetheart. I’m gonna take a shower and I’m yours, okay?” he whispered, and you lightly shifted in your sleep, repositioning yourself in the hammock.

Changmin gently pushed it to make it rock slowly, earning a muffled groan of happiness from your mouth. He beamed at your behaviour and told the cat to stay outside as it tried to come in with him, the animal letting out a frustrated noise but sat in the grass anyway.

Once your boyfriend reappeared from his shower, you were still comfortably tucked inside your new bed. With the towel around his shoulders, he was quick to toss it in the laundry bin and pull out the hairdryer. The muffled sound didn’t even make you move, the cat staring at your boyfriend as he quickly dried his hair in the living room. It had come closer just the time he went back to the bathroom to put the dryer away, stifling a laugh as the cat’s position. It was calmly sat on the patio, its wide, green eyes staring up at you as you slept.

Changmin chuckled at the innocence of the scene in front of him, the kitty suddenly looking away from you as he opened the window door. It only moved when he neared you, pacing under the fence like there was no tomorrow. He shook his head at the cat’s silliness and threw a glance at your sleeping figure, trying to think of a way to join you without waking you up.

You felt a presence near you as an arm delicately lifted your shoulders and upper back, careful movements moving around you. Lazily opening an eye, you noticed your boyfriend all fresh out of the shower, who was trying to get into the hammock without waking you up. Changmin miserably failed as you sat and you stood up despite his protests for you to stay in the hammock, lazily waiting for him to sit comfortably. You smiled when he reached out his arms for you to come and lay on top of him, his leg falling off the hammock as you comfortably laid back, your warmth kept and increased by your boyfriend’s body and hot shower.

“Hold me tight, please,” you whispered as you felt him giggle under you, arms securely wrapped around your figure. Changmin made sure that you were well hidden under the blanket before starting to balance the hammock again, closing your eyes as the comfort lulled you back to sleep. “I’m right here, love. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against the crown of your head before kissing it, weakly smiling as his calm heartbeat helped you fall back asleep.

Changmin delicately plucked out a flower under the hammock and played with it for a while before pushing your hair away from your ear and slid it on top of it. Smiling at the pretty view of you sleeping with a flower on your head, he held you closer to him, as if it were possible. He stifled a yawn as his workout tired him out, his chin resting against your head as it was his turn to doze off. __

You softly sighed and opened your eyes, a chest slowly rising and falling under your ear. You recognised your boyfriend’s fragrance as you hoisted yourself higher in his hold, delicately kissing the side of his neck. It was later in the day, you had no idea how long you had been sleeping for, but you were rid of any tiredness and felt at peace.

Changmin seemed to be quietly sleeping, his arm protectively wrapped around you as the other hung off the hammock. Something fell on his stomach from your head as you shifted, only to discover a flower with a smile. You stared at your boyfriend for a while and couldn’t stop smiling, but this delicate, romantic moment got ruined by the not-so-sophisticated grumbling noises coming from your stomach.

Trying to extricate yourself from the hammock without waking your boyfriend up, you felt his hand catching your wrist, his eyes slowly opening with a soft smile drawn on his face.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice deeper than it normally was. “I’m going to make us something to eat,” you spoke, and he sat up, motioning you to come closer. You obeyed and he reached out for something stuck in your hair, only to find a yellow petal of the flower he had placed in your hair while you were napping. You smiled at the sweet gesture and he got up as well, kissing your temple as he slightly limped and whined.

“Argh, I forgot to stretch,” he muttered as he made his way to the kitchen, wincing then hissing at his sore leg muscles. Shifting his weight on his hands resting against the kitchen counter, you compassionately rubbed his back as you got out a pan from a drawer. “I was too excited to come to cuddle with you, you seemed so peaceful that I completely forgot to stretch,” he said while wrapping his arms around your waist, earning a smile from you.

He peppered your cheek with kisses every time you moved around the kitchen, making a healthy brunch for the two of you. Once you were almost done, he let go of your waist to set the table, grabbing your shoulders and guided you to sit down to take the reins. Then, Changmin placed everything in the plates and served one to you, walking to his seat with his own.

You ate in silence, his hand linked with yours, the sun shining brighter than before as you finished eating. Changmin kindly rubbed your shoulder, whispering to go back outside while he cleaned and washed everything. You played with the cat for a while, giggling as you manage to place the flower on top of his head, the creature weirdly moving its head to get the thing off him.

Changmin laughed as he joined you on the patio, drawing his chair closer to yours and you kissed his cheek as he sat down.

Smiling to each other, you came nearer and delicately pressed your lips against his, feeling him grin in the kiss as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder blades. Once you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered the words you loved coming out of his mouth.

“I love you."

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mxchellesworld · 4 years

Text

You know biggie?

Spencer Reid x Poc!Reader

Synopsis; Where Spencer enlists help from Morgan to try and impress you

Warnings; none, mention of smut, mostly fluff

a/n; this is very much a self indulgent thought i have so im very sorry that i modeled y/n kind of like myself. also as a black/mexican girl it is so upsetting that are rarely fics with cm characters and a poc so here we are. anyways hope you enjoy!

***

The day you walked into the BAU Spencer knew he was fucked. Though that’s how Derek put it, he wouldn’t disagree. From the moment he saw you were able to get Hotch to smile he knew you were special.

You were a ball of vibrant energy. Always trying to bring people up when they were having a tough time. While you’d never admit it, Garcia had a run for her money.

He was lucky enough to have his desk next to yours. Every time you walked by him in the morning, the mix of your coconut shampoo and the bright smile you gave him pushed him to do his best.

Now he wasn’t a jealous man at all. It was more so that he wished to be able to have some moments with you like the ones you share with others. The one he wanted the most was how you acted with Morgan.

Of course he was the big brother figure to everyone. So naturally whenever he was driving you’d always yell out, “shotgun” to sit with him. Spencer would just playfully groan but had no problem giving up his seat for you. If anything it was the perfect time to admire you.

Even on the dullest cases you were able to lighten the mood by connecting your phone to the aux and blasting your favorite songs. He’d watch how you’d start poking Morgan’s arm as he drove to try and get him to rap along with you.

Spencer would notice how he would bite his cheek to try and keep in the grin begging to spread across his face. You’d then pick up the imaginary microphone and give them the performance of a life time. Aiming the mic towards Morgan’s mouth he knew he couldn’t let you down and would always give in to your playful ways.

But his favorite part was when you’d turn in your seat to sing to him.

The way your plump glossy lips would curve in a smile with each word you sang. The way your big brown eyes showed how the emotions of the lyrics flowed through you. Even when you’d get a little bold and caress his face then playfully bop his nose.

Morgan would be looking in the rearview with a shit eating grin on his face mouthing ‘you’re whipped’.

For the rest of the ride he would be entranced by your curls bouncing as you bopped your head to the beat.

Maybe he’d ask Morgan to write down some of your favorite songs. For research of course.

After a year of you being on the team Penelope decided a party was in order to celebrate. Rossi being the generous man he was offered up his house for a pool party since it was June and the heat was coming on strong.

Spencer walked into the back yard where the party was in full swing. You had asked for just the members of the team and their families. The adults were sitting around on lawn chairs or resting on the edge of the pool watching their kids.

Looking around for you he saw you laying on the grass with Hank resting on your stomach. His tiny hands would reach for your face and you’d playfully press kisses to his palms causing a roar of giggles to come from his small body.

Spencer felt a hand clap on his shoulder and knew who it was.

“She’s something else huh pretty boy,” Morgan said while looking at you cooing at his son.

“Yeah,” he sighed longingly, “Do you uh, what do you think she’d day if I asked her on a date?”

“Pretty Ricky I know you have a IQ of a million in there so you should be able to run some guesses.”

“So she’d say no,” Spencer said with a pout.

Morgan smacked the back of his head which caused Spencer to let out a loud noise of disapproval. You walked over with Hank in your arms to see Spencer rubbing the back of his head.

“Derek did you hit him?” you asked with a defensive tone.

“He asked a stupid question,” Morgan said in defense.

“Yeah yeah take your kid,” you said handing Hank over to him, “Spence let me get you a drink.”

The only thing he could do was nod and return your smile. You motioned for him to follow you into Rossi’s kitchen. As he walked behind you it took all his strength to not let his eyes drop down to the small wrap you had around your waist covering up the bikini bottoms you had on.

Though the water dripping down your tan back from the tips of your hair didn’t go unnoticed by him.

Reaching into the fridge you pulled out a beer and quickly opened it. He felt his breath hitch as your fingers grazed his while you handed it to him.

“Is that ok? I know you usually like whiskey or something when the team goes to bars but I figured you were driving home so I thought maybe a beer would be better to keep you on your toes,” he had never seen you ramble as if you were nervous. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered at the fact you had been so thoughtful of his drinking choices. Even if it was something so simple.

“Yeah Y/n this is perfect.. You’re perfect,” he said looking down at you.

“Oh- I uh um thank you Spencer. You are quite perfect yourself as well,�� you said trying to regain some of your usual confidence.

Neither of you had realized you were standing there until the beat of an all too familiar song brought you out of your trance, lost in his caramel eyes.

Hypnotize by Biggie Smalls

“God I love this song,” you perked up, ready to head back out to the rest of the guests.

“Did you know “Hypnotize” was released just weeks before his death on March 9, 1997,” Spencer tried to say keeping his voice from wavering.

“You know Biggie?” you said with a questioning smile.

“Y/n I grew up in Vegas of course-,” he cut himself off noticing your raised eyebrow, “Ok maybe I didn’t know him that well. I uh asked Morgan for some of your favorite songs to get to know you and did a little research.”

“Aw Spence that’s really sweet. How about you come over tomorrow and I can put you on to some music?”

“I will be there,” he said raising his bottle.

“Great. And Spence, I envy your glasses,” you said with a smirk.

“What? My glasses?”

“Cus they’re sitting on your face and I’m not,” you said winking at him then turning around and heading out the patio door.

He looked in that direction to see Morgan peeking his head in with Hank in his arms. It was crazy to see how such a small child could have such a knowing look on his face.

Spencer groaned and walked back out to the party. Making eye contact with you as you passed on the imaginary microphone to Penelope who gladly took it and sung at the top of her lungs.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x poc!reader #poc!reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #chellewrites #spencer reid smut

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lucy90712 · 3 years

Text

georgenotfound- colour blind

Wc: 1857

Warnings: reader wearing a dress; one specific feature mentioned

George's birthday is coming up and I have no idea what to get him, I have already got some presents but I want to get him something that would be kind of special or show that I really care about him. When George isn't around I've been on call with dream to try and come up with some ideas but we never get very long to think before George comes back so its been kind of difficult.

I was in call with dream and sapnap joined to see what we were talking about and he gave the best suggestion ever. Colour blind glasses. What a great idea. I can get him glasses that will allow him to see colours properly or at least better for the first time and we can do a bunch of things together that he has never been able to appreciate before. While still in the call I ordered them to make sure I was getting the right ones, and now they arrive Wednesday.

This is so exciting I can't wait to do so many things with George that he isn't able to appreciate like other people can we can play Minecraft together, we can go to a park and look at all the flowers when they come back out in spring and my favourite thing ever we can watch sunsets or sunrises together.

Skip to Wednesday:

The glasses arrive today which I'm so excited about but I also have to be careful to not let George see them or the package because he gets curious when I order things but this time he isn't allowed to know.

I have been watching the parcel tracker intently for the last hour and now it should be here in the next 5 minutes. George is currently downstairs getting water before he has to go back up to film another video, I went to stand with him in the kitchen and we talked for a little bit before he left again. Seconds later the doorbell rang and I collected the parcel and hid it in the storage cupboard next to the door which George never goes in because he never goes outside.

Late that evening when George was done for the day he came down stairs and sat with me to watch tv with me. I was lying down on my own across the sofa but he moved my legs to lay down with me and cuddle which he likes to do after a long day.

"Who was at the door earlier?" He asked

"Oh just some guy trying to sell me stuff" I lied

"That's annoying" he remarked

After we went to bed and George was fast asleep I snuck out the bed to go and wrap all of the presents I had got so that it wouldn't be obvious exactly what everything was just incase he went in the cupboard for whatever reason. I am useless at wrapping especially by myself because I just don't seem to have big enough hands but I managed to get it done somewhat neatly or at least good enough that George wouldn't notice.

Skip to his birthday

It's George's birthday today and I couldn't be more excited, I woke up super early because I was so excited to give George his glasses and other presents. Of course waking up so early made no difference because George won't be up for another few hours. That man can sleep for forever with no issue at all, I wish that I could do the same but it just doesn't work like that does it.

George woke up about an hour after I did which I believe might be a record but thats besides the point. He moved over to cuddle into my side and kiss my cheek a few times before putting his head in the crook of my neck.

"Happy birthday love" I said

"Thank you" he said

"Let's get up I have some things for you" I said

He groaned but got up with me or should I say attached to me because he had his arms around my waist hugging me from behind as I tried to wash my face and brush my teeth. He only let go when we had to go down the stairs but as soon as we made it he picked me up and carried me around before dropping me down in the kitchen.

We worked together to make breakfast before I went into the cupboard to get all of his presents which I placed in George's lap along with his card. He read the card first which I really tried to put some nice meaning in because I want him to know I appreciate him even if I don't say it as often as I could. I watched his face as he read the words and his lips slowly turned into a smile and his eyes gleamed over.

"This is really sweet thank you" he said

He continued to open the presents leaving the glasses last which I was glad about. When he opened the last present and the box inside he looked very confused about which is understandable. He tried to read the label but he still didn't seem to understand, meanwhile I was aching to show him what they are so that we can do the exciting things.

"What are these?" He asked

"They are glasses that help you to see colours" I smiled

"Wait no way thats amazing I'm so excited to see the things you do" he said

He wanted to get ready for the day so that we could do all the things he wanted to with his new glasses. For fun I decided to wear a red dress that I like to wear all the time but George can't see the colour to the point that it just gets funny when he attempts to tell the colour.

Once the both of us were ready he wanted to go to the park to see what grass looks like so that's where we went and we sat on the grass looking at a flower bed and trees. He had yet to put the glasses on but I could tell he was itching to do it, I had them in my pocket so I took them out and slid them onto his face.

Watching him was the best thing in the world he looked all around mouth open and eyes wide under the classes from the shock of being able to see colours for the first time. He looked at the grass while touching it before looking at me and studying my face intently.

"Your favourite dress is red" he stated

"Yeah it is" I laughed

"And your eyes are as green as the grass thats amazing there so pretty" he said

"Aww thank you but I have to know what colour did they look to you before?" I asked

"Like a weird yellow sort of colour like a lot of things really" he said

His hands were put on my cheek and he pulled by face closer to his to look deeper into my eyes at their colour, it has always amazed me that he couldn't see green even though its quite a common colour but I never thought he would be so entranced with my eye colour. When he was done staring into my soul he kissed my lips sweetly and pulled me up from the grass so we could walk around a bit. He was so amazed by everything in sight which made us get weird looks from others but I just gave them a look back and they stopped.

We went back home after a good hour of just walking around places in London. Back at home we made lunch and talked to dream and sapnap who had been asleep until now. George was telling them all about the glasses and how amazing everything looked and he wouldn't stop bringing up how amazing my eyes were. He put on his glasses when both boys on the call turned their cameras on so that he could see dreams eyes seeing as they were green too but he wasn't as bothered by them.

"What's wrong with my eyes?" Dream asked

"They just aren't as vibrant and pretty as y/n's sorry" he said

Dream got fake upset with him and sulked in his chair which I had to try my best not to laugh at how stupid they were being. They wanted him to play Minecraft with the glasses on so he booted it up on the tv so I could play with him. We got into a new world in creative so we could just travel to places that would be more interesting.

It was in these moments that George realised that dream was actually green which was the funniest thing because thats like part of his brand but all George sees is a mustard yellow colour. We had a lot of fun showing him different things like the nether because for him they aren't red/ orange which again is an odd concept to comprehend.

We played for hours before dream and sapnap had to go and me and George were left to spend the evening together. I had promised George the other day that we could have whatever he wanted for dinner today and he wanted to order food so I did that for him and set up our small outside table to we could eat under the last bit of light for the day and then watch the sunset together.

The food arrived pretty quickly and we ate in the sunshine which wasn't the warmest considering the time of year but it was relatively nice today. We finished the food and I took the plates back inside and to the sink before going back out to sit with George who was now laying down on the grass staring at the sky which was beginning to turn slightly pink. I chucked the glasses at him and he put them on as I laid down besides him leaning against him.

We watched as the sky continued to fill with all sorts of colours from purple to orange like it does on days like this which is why I always watch the sunset whenever I get the chance. Once the sun had fully gone down George pulled me on top of him so that my head was laying on his chest as he played with my hair.

"Have you had a good birthday?" I asked

"I've had the best day all thanks to you and those amazing glasses" he said

"I'm glad you like them I just like watching your reactions to things" I said

"Well expect to see them a lot more because I love your eye colour and want to see it more" he said

"You are so cute" I giggled

That night we laid under the stars before cuddling in bed, it has just been a wonderful, day overall getting to spent so much time together and doing new things like being outside for so long.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #mcyt #dsmp #george #gnf

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prof-peach · 4 years

Note

Hello Professor Peach!

I've followed your account recently and I was wondering. What types of Pokemon would I need to run a sucessful greenhouse like yours?! I know that I would obviously need Grass Types and maybe Bug Types, but what others would I need?

Thanks in advance!

From a fellow Grass Type and Nature Lover!

We have several greenhouses on the island, as we specialise in grass Pokemon, so I’ll run though what each has and why.

Seedling house

Set up for young sprouts, both plant and Pokemon based, with some areas shaded with netting, others in full sun. This space needs to be easy to clean, and you’ll find yourself disinfecting between sowing, to reduce fatalities and get the most out of your seeds!

Bulbasaur (potato) a good boy, old as sin now, but his gentle lullaby helps young plants grow, and keeps the baby Pokemon calm and settled. You DO NOT want a whole greenhouse worth of baby Pokemon crying, trust me. He’s stern but patient, and this is why he works well in this space, as he will not tolerate bad behaviour, and raises the youngsters with a firm but kind vibe. His vines are delicate and intricate enough to handle young seedlings, and because he himself is partially plant, he understands the needs of actual plants very well. His age also helps, he’s quite good at delegating and can boss the other workers around, and hold their respect. He has a few underlings he is training to help while he’s away, a sunflora, a turtwig, and a nuzleaf, all of which enjoy the work too.

Lotad, we keep a lot of these, as they tend to come and go. Usually we have around 4-5 in the seedling house at any one time, their broad leaves make them good at carrying things, moving trays of babies, and genrally handling youngsters, and they can usually learn water gun with some training, thus making them excellent at keeping the place well watered (but not too much). Their plant nature means they’re quite respective of small species,and tend not to crush any small sprouts if they can avoid it. They do however hibernate if it gets too cold, so it may be worth employing the help of a more winter tolerant water Pokemon if need be. We swap the Lotad out for Wooper in winter, they are small, not often too hard to handle, easy to find in our area, and kind natured on average.

There’s a old Pangoro that hangs out in this house, often happy to help lifting tables to move and rearrange spaces for new species, or to help do the big spring cleaning jobs each year. His disposition is far mor W gentle than normal, so I’d advise finding a patient, gentle Pokemon, who can do some heavy lifting. It’s always worth having a powerful individual here, as lots of Pokemon look to seedlings as snacks. As a defence, this pangoro works well, and birds and bugs tend not to enter the zone without his watchful eye on them.

A rather old Espeon without a tail likes to sleep in there too, her psychic powers means she can handle threats without big brash movements, and she tends to quietly spend her days just keep guard, and genrally being a watchful eye should the Pangoro mosey off to eat or bathe outside the greenhouse. This is a good example of shift Pokemon. When one is gone, the other is more alert and active as a guard. Never have just one Pokemon to a job, as they too need time out, breaks, vacations and down time to enjoy and relax. It’s too much to expect one individual to do everything.

Youngsters often enjoy a nightlight, so we let the volbeat and illumise into the greenhouse at night, to dance and keep a gentle glow in the area. The young seedling Pokemon are often stuck in pots, unable to move about yet, so they enjoy entertainment, and some are not keen on the deep dark of night outside. This settles them, and these bug types don’t eat seedlings, so they’re often great company.

In winter, we move one of greys charizard in to heat the space and protect the babies from frost. We have around 6 charizard on the island, and they are sometimes well behaved. We have the most calm and maternal in this house, she is a gentle soul, and I’d often not advise others to use this species for this work. A better fit would be Torkoal, known for exuding gentle heat continuously with enough food, or perhaps a Darumaka, Numel, or carkol. They tend to have much calmer natures for fire types, and ambient lay heat spaces well. Frost is a killer for seedlings so this is very important. As a grower, you also end up with infected or sick plant matter (trimmings and such) and the only way to responsibly dispose of that is to burn it. This keeps the risk of spreading infections far lower, and you won’t end up putting sickly, potentially fungus filled material into your compost, and in turn spreading it around. Fire is very important in the garden, in a controlled and careful way of course.

Healing house

This space is half open space, half I solated zones, built for recovery and care. When a Pokemon or plant becomes sick, they need specialist care, and sometimes they can spread their illness to others, so having an area to quarentine them and cure any issues is very important. This space needs to be fuss free, able to be disinfected easily, ideally with drains in the floor (much like you’d see at a swimming pool or something) so you can slosh down some disinfectant and ready the spaces for the next patient. Think of a glass topped kennel, that’s what you’re going for here.

Meganium, (summer) a lovely lady who’s been with me a while now, she’s quite resistant to disease thanks to her variation, and so she’s ideal for working in these kinds of environments. Despite this I would not mix her with a Pokemon who’s seriously sick, she’s more the “nurse” figure of the greenhouse, who oversees everything while I’m away. Her roles require her to be caring, and very calm despite seeing many in alarming states. The Pokemon doing this job needs to have a will of steel, and a strong stomach. Some diseases are quite unnerving to see progress. Keeping a bright outlook is a key component to this work. She’s able to emit a soothing aura, filling a space with gentle scent that can calm, energise, or even put patients to sleep. Her vines make her dexterous enough to hold tools and perform general care tasks like sweeping and watering ect.

I have befriended some Marill, a small pod of about 12, who come and go to help water and keep the place cleaned up. Their jolly natures are great for patients who are isolated while healing, and as they aren’t grass types, many of the individuals inside this space can interact with them, and not risk spreading illness (most of the time). They’re a little more rough and ready than the seedling watering team, but this is ok, as we don’t often keep youngsters in this house. They like to be paid in snacks, but others prefer toys, stories, games, and even tv time. Negotiating a fair deal for everyone is very key here, a Pokemon taut feels cheated will do a bad job. If they’re happy, you’ll be happy, trust me.

Audino, not often a Pokemon I discuss much, and don’t even use in the main lab, as this particular Audino has been trained to deal with grass issues specifically. She flunked out with her old trainer at medical college, so I took her on and tried to focus her in on something a bit more practical. She’s not able to catch a lot of grass issues due to her normal nature, and is a handy healer to have around. She’s actually quite a lazy individual, and is often found asleep in the staff room when not working.

This space will also require a dedicated burner Pokemon, a fire type to remove infected and dangerous tissues taken from infected patients. I often use Valka (vulpix) for this job, as she’s usually with me, and this greenhouse is where I spend the majority of my time, and she’s very efficient.

I advise you not use grass Pokemon so much in this greenhouse, as sick grass Pokemon tend to be more infectious to other grass types. You’ll often find me using normal, ground, or rock types, with strong immune systems, or individuals with calm natures, as this space sees a lot of unnerving things, and needs level headed individuals.

Tropics house

Also known as the hot house, as when you enter it you break into a sweat. Humidity is high, temperature is high, ceilings are high. This is a 4 floor tall building, all glass, planted like a jungle, with varying canopy levels, sunken pond spaces, and dense lush greenery. I also keep my orchid collection here, and you’ll find many bug types are drawn to the colours and smells. This is the highest skill level greenhouse behind the healing house, and I’d advise you try to start with one of the more simple ones firstly, should you be new to this kind of work. Heating this space is done with hot water pipes, and the whole building is lined with sprinkler systems that runs on a timer. Every 15 minutes everything gets doused with a thick, cooling fine mist.

This is where the Queen of my Bellossom clutch hangs around, she’s quite something to see, far larger, with soft pink coloured petal skirt, and a real air of royalty about her. The whole greenhouse respects her as she’s proven her skill as a leader many times, resolving conflicts with reason and patience. She may not be the strongest, but she’s certainly smart, and can lead with an iron fist need be. She is good with visitors, as this greenhouse is public, and open to visitors, unlike the previous ones mentioned above. She is a good overseer, and saves me a lot of time and trouble, fixing squabbles and keeping everyone calm. She is at the top of the hierarchy, and can request help from just about everyone else within this space, and they’ll oblige.

There’s a substantial Tangrowth who chills out in this zone, usually sleeping in a sunny patch at the back, he’s usually left child minding, as many of the Pokemon within have young of their own, and need a good baby sitter. Something that’s sturdy, with a lot of arms to keep tabs in them all (he just ties a vine to them and lets them run riot while he dozes) he can be quite defensive of the young but this is good, as the public spaces are more likely to be stolen from, and as we handle a lot of variants, security is needed. People like to steal young Pokemon when they’re unusual or rare.

Tsareena, a power house, acts as a guard, and works with a couple of Lurantis, who all enjoy the heat and have high prey drives. Should someone try to nab a baby, wade into a dangerous area, or start a fight within the greenhouse, they’ll step in, crushing most things in their path without too much issue. The Lurantis is actually one of quite a few, and should they become overwhelmed, they’ll call the others in as backup. This lot keep the peace physically, and can stop fights (as you don’t want broken glass in this space).

The windows need to be cleaned to keep the light levels high, so we often employ flying or psychic Pokemon to get us up higher to handle this work. I use whatever is around at the time, but often a good ladder will do the trick if you have a shorter building than ours.

Watering is actually done mostly with hoses and irrigation in this greenhouse but we do have one water type who resides within, in a deep pond in the centre. A Dreadnaw, Tobi, who came back with me from Galar quite recently. He’s very docile for his type, so we figured he’d enjoy the calm jungle vibes of this zone. He occasionally wades out to wander around and water things, keeping a close eye on everyone. Their species is renown for biting and aggression but Tobi is rather chilled out, and has taken to being the biggest water type in the space quite well. He shares his pond with a couple of small relicanth, and the odd little water type who comes in out of curiosity, along with a small pod of Lotad. He keeps things very damp, even in the dry corners, and often will listen to grass Pokemon who need extra water, and come over to assist.

No fire type in this building as all damaged or trimmed material should be collected and removed from the area, to be either composted, burnt, or used as cutting material elsewhere.

We encourage bug types in this space for the most part, as they feed other Pokemon, and also pollinate. This space has fruit trees and flowers, so we leave the windows open for whatever may want to enter to look around (and for airflow). The general temperament of the greenhouse is pretty calm, tanks to the balance of staff Pokemon, so if an aggressive bug comes in, it’s soon chased out. causing trouble isn’t tolerated within this space.

This greenhouse is abll about emulating nature, so taking trips to more jungle locations may benefit you here. I’d suggest doing detailed research, and studying established locations before building this zone, as there’s a lot of foundation work to be concidered, like water, piping, irrigation, airration, and light levels.

Desert house

Hot in the day, cooler at night, dry, often sparser in style. Very bright! This is a common space for a lot of variations, and also cacti based Pokemon. We have an array of desert species hanging out here, but also a lot of rock types. This is a petty easy going space, not a lot of water needed, but certainly care none the less.

A heater! We use a Heatmore, who seems to enjoy the general ambience, and is stroppy enough that the cacti Pokemon can’t bully him or get into too much trouble. He keeps the space hot in the winter, and not too cold at night, he will occasionally drop his workload in the summer when the temperatures are high enough without him. We trade him out with a Slazzle from time to time, should he require time out.

Watering is sparse, we call in one Politode now and then to drench the space, then leave it to dry out quite a bit. There’s of course places for Pokemon to drink from, small water features and the odd trough to get a drink from, but the species here don’t require half as much as others, and will happily go two or more weeks without more than morning dew. We tend to keep an eye on things and use a hose when we catch the odd Pokemon or plant who needs a little extra.

Cacturn is the boss of this space, and works hard to maintain a firm level of control over the many little Pokemon who live in this house. He’s old now, with many arms, not just the initial two, standing at around 9ft tall, with very thick limbs. He’s not kind as such but only really shows his mean side if you mess with him or the ones he protects. This is a space that’s open to the public, so we have to employ his power to protect from theft.

This space contains a lot of young alpine Pokemon too, bulbasaur, oddish, and some fun variants of Crustle who have plants atop their backs. There’s a strong nod to those who can handle drought, and so it’s a great starting greenhouse for anyone who’s a little forgetful. We also keep quite a few Sudowoodo and their pre-evolutions here, as they dig the dry air. They also help in creating rockery areas with their attacks and strength, that suit the area and the Pokemon within.

Carnivorous house

Not easy to plan but simple enough to keep. They need boggy conditions, lots of open light areas, and genrally this space is quite wild looking, certainly not tended, and I’d advise you get some waders or wellies for the work done here. Water types and bog Pokemon will love this space, and it should be protected from the frost, for those who do not like the cold.

Carnivine, often found hanging from vines within the space, they have a very particular diet, and I tend to run the tours for visitors to this greenhouse, to make sure no one gets chewed on. There’s quite a few colours and shapes, but they don’t do,innate the space as much as others. Their ungodly shrieking can be wonderful alarms to danger, and I totally advise having a few around, even if only for their comedic value and friendship.

The champions of this space are Victreebell and it’s pre-evolutions. I’ve kept many, and variants are something I research, so you can imagine the amount collected here. They’re very handy in summer should you get large infestations of bug Pokemon anywhere else, as their diet is all about eating other living things, and they don’t like rich soil or plant feed at all. Herd them to the bugs that bother you and let them hunt, you’ll soon have things under control again.

There’s a lot of Mudkip, Stunkfish, Quagsire, you know, mud lovers, and their watery ways can mean you have a lot of Pokemon able to keep the water levels high. This space needs to almost be submerged in water at all times, dry roots can lead to unhealthy buddies.

One thing to note is windows. You need to have access for bugs in this space. The species within have specific diets that Pokemon food doesn’t quite do justice, so allowing them to lure bugs in with their scent, and eat healthy correct diets will lead to far better health for your carnivorous friends.

Extra notes:

Theres the obvious, a standard, sturdy, average grow house. The beautiful basics to all the areas I’ve discussed above. Without just a space to store, to care, to grow, and to keep, none of the beautiful public spaces would look half as good. We have overflow greenhouses for winter, for overcrowding, for if the torterra want to come in, or if we get a large herd of Tropius sent to us who hate the frost. Grass types come in a lot of shapes and sizes, but should a large set come your way, these spare zones come in handy. If you have the space, set a few up, even if they’re storage most of the time, they will come in handy eventually. There’s a lot that happens behind the scenes, so make room for this.

THERE IS NO RIGHT SET OF POKEMON. I mean this seriously, I picked who I knew would suit the work, it’s not right for everyone. Grass Pokemon may have a good understanding of what plants and other grass types need, but you need to find species who are caring and patient. I’ve seen a lot of grass Pokemon who are fighters, impatient, stroppy and even aggressive, and they’d not suit this kind of work at all. You need to pick your team based on their personality, not just their type or species. Take your time and don’t be afraid to switch out their work load, try new things, and test an unusual Pokemon in a job position if you see potential in them. It’s a myth that grass Pokemon will be best for other grass Pokemon. I find I use a lot of other types to handle them, and often bugs will chew and eat at your grass types, so you have to pick carefully. Be clever with your research on this all.

Don’t think this set of Pokemon will take the workload off of your shoulders. A greenhouse needs YOUR time too, you need to throw some tough gloves on and get stuck in, or your team mates won’t feel enthusiastic about the work. Lead by example, work hard with them, weed and sow seed, trim, care for, and be part of the process, and it will feel all the sweeter when plants and Pokemon bloom and grow into beautiful things.

I find if you get stuck, if a Pokemon or plant won’t grow right, or keeps getting sick, take a step back, reevaluate what your method is, and take a look at their home. We forget that every plant and Pokemon has an actual originating location, and if we can emulate those conditions, their survival chances go up drastically! It’s not always easy, so don’t be afraid to google stuff, whip your phone out and have a good scroll around. There’s no such thing as a stupid question, so ask anything and everything.

A cheeky helpful tip, some Pokemon learn sleep powder, and many think that this move doesn’t affect other grass types, which is a pain because this move is very handy when dealing with difficult Pokemon. It in fact does affect other grass types, but only those who cannot also learn the attack. So an oddish can put a Leafeon to sleep who cannot learn the move, but not a Morelull, who can also learn sleep powder.

This was a BIG ONE but we have a lot of greenhouse, all catered for differently, so here’s hoping this helps your endeavours.

#long post #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Not yours.

summary: someone tries to force their way back to y/n's life and harry isn't having any of it.

word count: ----

based on these requests:

“also!! what about something angsty? maybe artemis gets hurt or something and harry is just in full on dad mode”

and

“What about caleb seeing the trio on tabloids, so he gets slightly jealous and “want’s” back into Artemis’ life unexpectedly.”

and

“ could you write something for my shy little boy about Artemis real father finding out that harry adopted him and showing up at their house claiming that Artemis is his son and basically trying to claim his rights as a father, and harry gets REALLY protective, plsss i would love that concept”

and

“Can you do one in the shy little boy universe where Artemis's dad tries to come back in his life or something. Like he sees them and he's life 'give me a second chance' . I love your writing. Thanks”

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

November, 2019.

Park days were the best days for the Styles family. They didn’t get to have them as much as they’d like as they were always so busy, but today was an off day and Artemis was responsible for choosing what they were going to do. And of course he chose the park.

Y/N packed some snacks in a picnic basket while Harry took the job of dressing Artemis up. Obviously Artemis ended up way too dress up for just going to the park but it wasn’t a secret Harry was crazy about them wearing the same color or matching outfits to go out.

Harry had picked a pair of white shorts and paired it with a pastel yellow polo shirt he tucked into the shorts. Artemis looked adorable although Harry knew his son most likely get the clothes dirty as soon as they arrive to the park.

“Daddy, my nose itches.” Artemis tried to take off his glasses but Harry stopped him.

Last month they had an appointment with the ophthalmologist and Artemis had to change his glasses at his doctor's request. But Artemis wasn't happy with his new ones, he was always looking for an excuse to take them off or hiding them from his parents.

"Better?" Harry asked, using his fingers to scratch softly where Artemis pointed it itched. The much smaller boy nodded. "You need the glasses, sweetheart. Don't take them off."

"I like my old ones better, why can't i have those?"

"Those doesn't work for you anymore, monkey." He explained. "C'mon, let's put your shoes on." Harry knelt in front of him to watch how Artemis ties his sneakers up, he smiled when his son made it without a problem.

"I just put the things in the car, are you ready?" Y/N said when she saw them coming down the stairs.

"Yes! Let's go, let's go!" Artemis almost jumped from the lasts steps.

Artemis rambled the entire ride about all the fun things they’d do together once they got there, constantly asking if they were at the park already. When they arrived, Harry was surprised it wasn’t so full of people, considering it was the weekend. Y/N unfolded the blanket on the grass, laying the stuff they brought.

“Daddy, let’s play.” Artemis pulled from Harry’s arm, making the latest chuckle.

“Just be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N remained her son, who was too busy running around with his dad.

It was a beautiful day outside, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the weather was perfect despite being in the middle of November. Harry had packed a Frisbee Artemis liked to use in their backyard and that’s what they were using to play.

Harry made sure to throw it softly at his son, not wanting the toy to hit him in the face. Artemis threw his hands in the air every time his daddy caught it.

Everything happened too fast, none of his parents could catch Artemis before he was face down on the grass. He had tried to throw the Frisbee higher but didn’t control his strength and he ended up on the floor.

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he ran towards the small child, his heart breaking as he heard his loud sobs. He picked him up from the grass and scooped him in his arms.

"Are you hurt? Where does it hurt, baby? Is it your arm?" He said, panic visible in his tone.

"He scraped his knees." Y/N said before cooing at Artemis, trying to calm him down. "Got some band aids for your knees, my love. It's okay." She took him in her arms and handed the band aids to Harry so he could put them on his boy's knees after cleaning the little blood that was there.

Caressing his hair softly, Y/N sat back down on the blanket, putting Artemis on her lap to wipe his tears off. "All better?" He nodded with a pout on his face.

Harry copied his son's pout, sitting next to them on the blanket. He didn't like seeing his love being upset, and he'd lie if he said he didn't feel a little guilty for him getting hurt.

"It's okay, accidents happen and sometimes we get hurt." Y/N said as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "What if we eat and then we can go for ice cream."

The smile reappeared on Artemis' face as he stood up from his mum's lap and cheered excitedly. Artemis ate whatever Y/N had packed for them, hurrying his parents so they could go get dessert.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked Harry at the end of the day when Artemis was falling asleep on his daddy's shoulder as he carried him back to the car. "You've been quiet since he fell."

"Just worried. Should we take him to ER?"

"For scraped knees? Don't think so. Harry, it's fine, really. He doesn't even remember he has them." She assured. "Tomorrow it will be all better."

"But he cried so loud." He furrowed as they reached the car and Y/N opened the door of the backseat so Harry could put him on his carseat. "I was worried he hurt his elbow or something."

"I guess it was more out of surprise. He wasn't expecting to fall facedown on the floor." Once everything and everyone were in the car, Harry started to drive back home. "Please don't beat yourself up for this. It was literally an accident."

"But i was playing with him."

"Yes, but you couldn't have prevented it from happen."

She put a hand on his thigh, not wanting him to feel any worse from something so small. Artemis doesn't have a lot of accidents as he is a calm boy who doesn't play sports or anything that requires running or jumping, but when they happen, he gets scared and that's normal. No kid likes to see blood coming out of them, even if it's only a little.

"As a parent the best you can do is stay calm during these situations. If you don't panic, then he doesn't either." She smiled at him.

Y/N loved how protective Harry was, his skills as a parent never failed to show in any situation. But he was still very new at it, and he couldn't help but want to put his boy in a little bubble so nothing bad would happen to him.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

A week later, Y/N was cooking dinner while Artemis was upstairs in the movie room watching a cooking show on Netflix. Lately he's been obsessed with those and could watch entire seasons if his parents let him.

Harry was out having a meeting with his team but promised to be back for dinner, so it was just the two of them in the house.

The buzzer sounded, alerting someone was at the other side of the gates. Y/N put down the knife she was holding and walked towards the little screen that allowed her to see who was there.

Her breathe hitched when she saw Caleb standing there. He was looking the other way but Y/N could recognize him anywhere. A frown appeared on her face as he hit the buzzer again. She stayed in her place, starting at the screen and hoping he'd turn around and leave.

But he didn't.

She was ready to go outside and tell him to leave but she heard the gates open before she could do so. The gates opening meant Harry was home.

And home he was. But he furrowed as soon as he saw a body standing there. He didn't recognize the man but he was pretty sure he's seem his face before.

He parked inside but didn't close again the gates as he returned outside. "Can i help you?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Is Y/N home?" The stranger asked, putting his hands inside of his pockets. "I need to speak to her."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, i need to see Y/N."

"Uh, it does matter, actually. Why is it so important to speak to my girlfriend?" Harry questioned again in a protective tone.

Before he could answer Harry's question, Y/N came out of the house, closing the door behind her before rushing towards the two man. She stood beside Harry, taking his hand in hers.

"What are you doing here, Caleb?" She asked and Harry's brain finally clicked. He looked so different from the only picture he's seen of him. "What do you want?"

"I need to see him, Y/N." Caleb said, almost in a demanding tone. Y/N looked up at Harry, who already had a deep, angry frown on his face. "I-I saw that video of you three at the park and... Y/N, i'm ready to meet my-"

"He's not your son." Harry barked angrily.

"Harry's right, Caleb. He's not yours in any way." She said sternly. "Besides, i bet it isn't the first video or picture you've seen of us, what could possibly make this one different?"

"I saw him getting hurt." He said defensively. "It.. awoke something in me. I want to be a father, Y/N."

"Then go ahead and get a family of your own because neither Artemis nor I have anything to do with you. Do i have to remind you, you signed the paper giving up your paternal rights?" Y/N started to get angry and Harry squeezed her hand.

"I was twenty-one, Y/N."

"So was I!" She now exclaimed.

"I think it's best if you leave." Harry spoke again, trying to control his anger before he punched that man straight on the face.

"And you are?" Caleb asked "Oh, right. You're the guy she replaced me with. Does my son calls you daddy too?"

"She didn't replace you, she just moved on with someone way better." He smirked. "And yes, my son calls me daddy, must hurt, right? Now get the fuck out of my property before i call the bloody cops."

Harry let go of Y/N's hand just to push Caleb out, not being able to hold his anger anymore. "If i ever see you close to my family, i'll fucking ruin you."

When Caleb was back on his car, Harry finally closed the gates and turned to see Y/N. "I'm sorry you had to see him, my love."

Y/N sighed. "I'm okay. I just... I hadn't seen him since he..." Her lip started trembling but she swallowed the tears. "Seeing his face brought back a lot of emotions."

"Couldn't imagine." Harry took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "But you won't see him anymore, over my dead body."

"Thank you."

Harry smiled softly at her, supping her face with his hands and pecking her lips. "Thank you for letting me be the one by your side."

"I wouldn't dream of having anyone else."

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starlightrows · 4 years

Text

Separation Anxiety

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: A little bit or angst, abandonment issues, fluff

Summary: You leave the Razor Crest for a couple days, but Grogu doesn’t understand that you’re coming back. A story through the eyes of The Child.

AN: I’m a little late posting this, I had a really bad day on Friday. But I wanted to finish this and release it as soon as possible because I feel better when I can stick to a routine. Please note that all the italics are Grogu attempting to speak out loud, but all Din and reader hear is the canon babbling and cooing we hear in the show

I wake up to the sound of Dad’s voice, he’s speaking softly in the way he only talks to me and Mama. I want to get up and play in the grass like yesterday, but sometimes our house moves when I’m asleep so I don’t know if the grass will still be there. I poke my head up out of the crib, and look around.

Dad is checking over a blaster, the smallest one that Mama carries when we go into town. I’m not allowed to touch those, Mama says they’re dangerous. Mama has her back turned, but it looks like she’s busy putting things away. She does that a lot. I wonder what she’s putting away now, I helped her put away the toys before bed yesterday.

“Mama!” I call out for her. She and father turn to me.

“Too late,” I hear Dad say. I don’t know what it is too late for, the day just started. Mama is coming towards me, and oh I just can’t help it I love it when she picks me up.

“Don’t worry darling, he woke up twice last night so his nap will come early,” you say to Din.

How could Mama possibly be thinking about nap time now? Now is time for food, and play time and probably Dad going to work.

“I’ll start breakfast,” Dad says

“Breakfast!”

Mama holds me while we eat our breakfast, but Dad doesn’t take his hat off. That probably means he’s going to work today. I know Mama will make him eat something before he goes. Mama gets upset when Dad forgets to eat. After breakfast we go outside. Our house moved while I was sleeping, but there’s different grass..... and big bugs flying around.

“Mama can I go play with the bugs?” I ask her.

“Do you want to play hide and seek ad’ika?” She asks me. Sometimes I don’t think she can hear me very well, because she answers me funny. But then again, her ears are very small.

“No. Bugs!” I yell running down the ramp to go catch the nearest floaty bug. I almost catch it too, but I jumped too late and the bug is getting away. So I chase after it.

I spend all afternoon outside but eventually, I give up on trying to catch the floaty bugs. They fly too high and always seem to know I’m coming. I’m getting tired, maybe Mama was right about a nap. I turn back to look for our house, it’s right where Dad left it with the ramp down. Mama and Dad are sitting on the ramp together, talking.

Why do grown ups talk so much? Mama and Dad like to play with me. But they don’t play by themselves or with each other, they just talk. I head over towards them, maybe they will stop talking and Mama will come nap with me.

When I get up to them, Mama immediately goes to pick me up. But she keeps talking to Dad.

“It all worked out, now we can have a family night before the trip and we’ll save some credits having you drop me off,”

“The glass is always half full, isn't it cyare,?”

Mama laughs, but I don't get it. Full of what? Is it juice? Is it juice for me?

“Mama,” I try to get her attention “Mama”

“Oh boy, looks like I was wrong about nap time, he’s gonna sleep well tonight” she says. Dad stands up, and helps Mama stand too so she doesn’t have to put me down.

Wrong about nap time? Now is a perfect time for a nap. But it’s later than I thought it was, the sun is starting to go down, and Mama is handing me to Dad so she can make dinner. Dad didn’t go to work today, I wonder why...

“Dad, are you going bye bye soon?” I ask him

“Yeah, did you have fun running around all day ya little womp rat?” He asks. Dad must not have very good hearing either. Or maybe his hat makes it hard for him to hear me.

Mama finishes making dinner, Dad closes the big door and takes off his hat so we can all eat together. After dinner, Mama scoops me up and takes me to her bed. I get excited, Mama and Dad’s bed is bigger than mine and has puffy pillows to jump on. But Mama is not in the mood for jumping, tonight she tells me she wants to snuggle and do stories.

Dad joins us. He takes off his shiny clothes and his hat, and lays down with Mama and me. Dad likes Mama stories, he puts his head on Mama’s tummy and listens to her talk. Mama holds me against her shoulder, and rubs my back. I’m trying really hard to stay awake, but I can’t. Mama’s arms are warm, and her voice is quiet. I’ll ask her how the story ended tomorrow.

The next day I wake up, and someone different is holding me. Dad’s shoulder is usually warmer than Mama’s, but not as soft. Especially since he’s wearing his shiny clothes again. Someone kisses the top of my head. That must be Mama. I’m still sleepy, so I don’t open my eyes yet. Dad rumbles below me. He must be trying to talk.

Suddenly the sound of the door opening, surely now Dad must be going to work. But if Dad is going to work, why isn’t Mama the one holding me?

I open my eyes. It’s too bright. But I can see a figure going down the ramp holding a big bag. My eyes adjust and I see that it’s Mama. Why is Mama going down the ramp so early in the morning? And our house moved again! I’m confused. If Mama is leaving the house, why aren’t we following her?

“Dad?” I try to ask. Dad makes a disappointed sound.

“Dad!” I try again

“Say bye bye ad’ika” he whispers waving my little arm

“MAMA!” I yell as I start to panic “Mama come back!” I’m getting upset. Mama never leaves. And her bag is really big. Is that what she was putting away yesterday? Why is Mama going bye bye?

“Dad!” I whine “Dad please! We have to go with her. We have to go with Mama!”

He doesn’t understand me. They never do. I’m so frustrated I can’t help it, I start crying

“Why Mama go bye bye?” I wail “MAMA!”

Dad closes the big door. I’m getting more upset. I don’t understand what happening. And Dad can’t understand me when I ask. And I just want Mama to hold me and give me kisses.

“It’s okay buddy,” Dad says “It’s okay I’m sad she went bye bye too,” Well that doesn’t make any sense. If Dad is sad she left, then we should go with her. Dad takes me up the ladder. But I don’t stop crying. He isn’t listening to me.

When he gets to the window room, Dad puts me on my chair and buckles me in. He gives me my ball, and I stop crying for a minute. I really like this ball, it’s kind of heavy and it reminds me of the training ball we used to have in the temple. Sometimes I tell Mama about what it was like growing up in the temple. About the masters that used to come visit the younglings to tell us stories or their adventures or teach us lessons. Mama smiles and looks in my eyes when I talk to her, it tricks me into thinking she understands me sometimes. But now I’m thinking of Mama again, and I begin to cry.

Dad finishes turning on the lights and hitting buttons in the right order, and our house is going up up up into the stars. Which means we are leaving Mama here. I can’t understand why this is happening. Mama tried to leave when I was asleep. She didn’t even want to say goodbye to me. I must have done something very naughty to make her leave me and Dad.

Dad turns to me and unbuckles my seat. He holds me to his chest and lets me keep crying. He doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s crying under his hat too. He pats my back and shakes up and down me a little bit. It feels nice. He can’t understand what I ask him, but at least he understands that I’m upset.

“It’s okay buddy. We’re gonna have a fun week okay?” Dad says. I keep crying. I don’t want to have a fun week, I want Mama.

I sit with Dad all day in the window room as the stars zoom by. I stop crying but I don’t let him put me down. I can’t stop thinking. What did I do? Why did Mama leave? I don’t understand.

The days go by painfully slow. Dad puts our house in front of a big puddle, so big that everything on the other side looks small. He plays outside with me every day. Lets splash in the water, chase bugs and frogs. He lets me dig holes in the mud and bury rocks. Dad washes all of the blankets and sheets from our house in the big puddle and hands them to dry on the trees. He washes all of his clothes in the puddle too, and polishes the shiny clothes with something that looks fun to play with but smells terrible. It’s not so bad, playing with Dad all day on this puddle world. But at night time when it’s time to go to bed. I miss Mama so much my heart hurts. I try really really hard not to cry. But I can’t. I just want her to tuck me into my bed, or snuggle with me. I want her to tell me stories or sing to me.

But I’m trying. I’m trying especially hard to be good for Dad. Maybe if I’m really good Mama will come back. And I know I’m good Dad won’t leave. Dad used to take me everywhere with him when we first met. I was too scared of him to be bad. He wasn’t so scary after a while, especially after he met Mama. But I felt so safe with them. I guess I felt too safe because I messed up, and now Mama’s gone. I have to be good. I have to be good so Dad won’t leave too. I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t let Dad put me to bed in my crib. If he shuts the crib doors, they might not open again.

I wake up from a nap sitting on Dad’s lap, and I heard voices. Dad is talking to someone. I open my eyes, curious to know who’s here.

It’s Mama! It’s Mama right in front of me!

“Mama!” I shout trying to reach for her. But my claws pass straight through her. I keep trying to reach her, but she isn’t really here.

“Looks like ad’ika woke up just in time,” Dad says “Say hi to Mommy,”

“Mama! Mama I’m so sorry. Please come home. I promise I’ll be good. I promise!” I tell her

“Hi baby! I miss you so much. I’ll be home tomorrow, and I’ve got presents for you,” she says. She looks up at Dad “How’s he been?”

“He’s been having a hard time. I don’t think we explained well enough that you’d come back,” Dad says.

“To be fair, he’s never a day apart from me since the moment we met,” Mama laughs lightly

“Yeah. Well hurry home, he’s not the only one who misses you” Dad says

“A taste of your own medicine my love. But I miss you too. I’ll be at the docking bay by tonight, you’ll be there to pick me up?”

“Sounds good”

“Okay, bye baby! I’ll see you tonight,” Mama waves goodbye and the com clicks off.

I’m upset again, but I don’t cry. Mama is giving me a second chance? Or she was always planning on coming back? I don’t know, I’m so confused. All I know is I’ve been good this week, and she’s coming back. So I have to keep being good, and make it up to her when she gets back.

Dad packs up our house, and we go up up up again into the stars. We really are going to pick up Mama. But it takes so much longer to get back to where we left her. I try not to be fussy on the ride there. But everything is going so slow.

Finally finally finally, we get there and Dad puts the house exactly where it was a week ago when we left. And now we wait. Dad tries to play with me, he offers me my ball, which I take. But I just hold it. I watch the big door. Waiting for it to open. Finally, I hear it. I hear the clicking and the hiss. The door is opening and the ramp is going down.

There she is!

“MAMA!” I scream, dropping my ball and running as fast as my little legs will let me go. Mama smiles and drops her bags on the ground. She takes two big steps and scoops me up, cuddling me to her chest. Dad steps in and wraps his arms around us. He gently knocks the top of his hat into Mama’s forehead and stays there. I get a little jealous, and try to push Dad away.

“You got to talk to mom on the com for who knows how long yesterday! I want kisses!” I say trying to hold Mama’s face.

“Hi baby. Did you miss me? Did Dad take good care of you?” She asks, she presses kisses all over my head and in between my ears.

“Mama, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry I was naughty. I won’t play with your magic potion bag anymore. I’ll eat all my food and go to bed when you tell me. I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good. Please don’t go!” I bury my face in her shoulder and start crying.

“What did you do to him, Din?” She asks Dad, she bounces me in her arms. I can’t tell if she’s making a joke or not.

“I told you cyare, he really missed you. I don’t think he knew you were coming back,” Dad says as he heads down the ramp to collect Mama’s things.

“Oh,” Mama coos at me “It’s okay. It’s okay ad’ika. It’s okay. Mommy’s here. I won’t leave you again. I was always gonna come back,” a

Dad puts her stuff away, and shuts the door. He leads us to their big bed and takes off his shiny clothes and hat again. He lays down and pulls Mama and me down on top of him.

Mama whispers to me. She tells me that she loves me. And she’s sorry I was afraid. She tells me that she missed me when she was gone, and that she’s proud of me for being good for Dad. Dad holds Mama, and tells her about all the fun things we did. Eventually I fall asleep, feeling safe and warm.

Maybe Mama and Dad don’t always understand what I’m trying to tell them. But they do love me and protect me.

#Late Friday Post (again)#The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Baby Yoda #Grogu #Din Djarin x reader #Fluffy #Angst #separation anxiety #Grogu is trying really hard to communicate #parenting is rough #if anyone is reading this again and notices it’s different for some reason the first paragraph wasn’t in the original post

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pikablu410 · 4 years

Text

Christmas Gift

Apologies for a Christmas-themed story being a few weeks after the holidays. I hope you enjoy regardless

“I don’t care that it’s December 23rd! I’ll get them gifts eventually!”

“You better before Christmas or your presents are going to Goodwill!”

The Kolstit family wasn’t exactly your vision of a nuclear family. They had a mother, father and children, yes, but they didn’t behave like what you’d expect of a typical, american family. For one, they were an immigrant family from Ecuador. They had moved just about a decade ago, when Adam was 8. The family was hesitant at first, but with promises of a better life from relatives it was hard to pass up.

Now, the Kolstit family comprised of a mother, a father and three sons. The mother, Norma, was a kind woman, but strict on her children. She had deadlines for chores, high expectations for grades and above all wanted them prepared for the world on their own.

Her children didn’t really see that, especially the middle child, Adam. Adam was the child who got the most verbal smack from his mother, a result of his desire to “be one of the popular kids in school” as Norma put it. Adam tried to shirk off his responsibilities at home as much as possible in order to hang out with his friends or play football, better known as soccer amongst Adam’s peers. Norma had other ideas for her son, however, which usually involved him cleaning up around the house.

“I’m going out.” The dark-haired boy simply said as he walked out of the house with a ball in his hands, a blue soccer jersey and gray track pants on.

“Put on a jacket at least! It has to be near freezing out there!” Norma shouted as her child abandoned her cries. She shook her head and went back to preparing dinner.

Adam furiously walked away from his home. “Why does she always put so much pressure on me? I’m just a high school kid!” Adam thought to himself as he walked to an empty field.

The grass was stiff and cold, as if intimidated by the air. Two poles rested a few feet apart on one side of the field, the other side only having one pole. Dirt marked the playing field, the only place where there wasn’t a plentiful amount of grass. Rabbits scurried away as Adam approached, hiding back in their dens as a gust of wind blew the grass aside for them.

Adam sighed as he dropped the ball down and started to faintly tap it, slowly bouncing the sphere back and forth from each foot. He didn’t want his mother to hate him and he didn’t want to hate his mother. She was just so annoying sometimes. If he wanted to live his life one way why should she prevent that? Adam punted the ball down the field, hitting it right next to the singular pole. He imagined a crowd cheering as he scored a goal. He missed football season and wished it would return sooner. Unfortunately he had to wait another year for it, and Adam went back to weakly moving the ball across the field, moving slowly up and down as time passed by.

As the sky turned to a dim orange, Adam realized his time at the field was up and decided to head back home. As he went to leave the field, though, he felt incredibly tired and weak. He wasn’t sure why as he hadn’t really exerted himself. This was mostly to calm down and relax a bit. A huge gust of wind blew past Adam, causing his body to shiver from the chill. He saw a wooden bench and decided to sit down to regain his strength. When he sat down, though, Adam felt like he was going to pass out. He had fallen asleep at an airport before, and Adam figured sleeping on a park bench wouldn’t be much different, so he decided to lay down on the bench. “Maybe just a...quick nap…” Adam yawned before he crashed. Though before he closed his eyes Adam saw two figures approach him, as if they wanted something from him.

When Adam woke up he thought he was still asleep. It was so dark he couldn’t see his own nose. Plus, he was sitting up instead of lying down like he had been on the bench. Suddenly, a light turned on above him, though he still couldn’t really see farther than 5 feet away. Surrounded by darkness, Adam just decided to try to find his way out only to be stopped completely. He looked at his body and saw that he was tied down to a wooden chair, and tightly at that. Wriggling his wrists and legs, Adam tried to struggle against his restraints only to be met with no sign of them letting up.

A few moments later, after Adam had given up trying to get up, he heard footsteps in the dark. Out of adrenaline-driven fear, Adam cried out, “Who’s there?” A figure in what looked like a space suit emerged shortly after, holding some kind of syringe in his hand. “Just sit still and this’ll go by quickly.” They said, with a voice muffled through their helmet. It was almost like they were directly out of a sci-fi film which gave Adam hope that this was just a dream.

Adam decided to listen to the strangely suited figure, whether that be out of fear or his own will. He felt the syringe pierce his skin as whatever was inside flowed into his bloodstream and eventually the rest of his body. After that, the person walked away and left Adam alone in the dark once more. Adam wasn’t sure what was happening, but after a few minutes of being alone again he felt his tummy rumble. How long had he been out? Long enough to go without a meal, clearly, but how long was that? A few hours? Half of the day? An entire day? Adam was really worried now, especially since nobody knew where he was.

Eventually the grumbling of his stomach grounded Adam’s mind, bringing him back to reality. And reality smelled pretty good, almost like a feast prepared on Christmas Eve. Just as Adam thought it, the lights turned on and before him laid a table filled with food you’d see a family eat for a holiday celebration. Stuffing, mashed potatoes and slices of ham lay across the table on many plates. Fried chicken, french fries and spaghetti were even on the table, to Adam’s surprise. His family usually ate those things as a tradition so it was something pleasant he wasn’t expecting. Near his hands, a tall glass of milk was set, as a drink for the meal Adam assumed. In the middle, a giant, stuffed turkey laid ready to be cut. It took up twice as much space as other plates did, and just the smell of it nearly made Adam drool.

Then, to Adam’s further surprise, the restraints were undone around his hands. Immediately, Adam reached down to undo the ones on his legs, but a voice overhead said, “I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” Adam stopped, his body jumping in shock of hearing the booming voice. “W-what do you want with me?” Adam tried to ask. There was a pause before the voice responded with, “Just eat your feast and then we’ll talk.” Then, silence. Silence only to be broken by Adam’s stomach growling in hunger.

Adam decided he might as well eat, if only to survive and find out why he’s here. He grabbed the large serving spoon that was dipped in the mashed potatoes, trying to find a plate to set it on to eat. Finding no such plate, Adam decided to eat the mushy meal right from the spoon. Setting it in his mouth, Adam could taste an explosion of flavor. Whether it be from his starving appetite or the taste of the dish, Adam didn’t decide to question it and went right back in for more. Though, as he ate the potatoes Adam couldn’t help but notice a strong, buttery flavor. He shrugged it off, though, as he was hungry and the stuff tasted too good to deny eating it.

The other dishes continued in a similar fashion. The stuffing melted right in Adam’s mouth, melding right along with all of the other dishes to not only enhance them, but revamp their tastes completely. The ham was sweet, but seasoned in just the right way so it wasn’t overpowering. The chicken was fried to perfection, with the chicken still being moist beneath its flaky skin. The fries were similarly prepared, though they were covered with a decent amount of salt. His milk was creamy and delicious, but it didn’t take away from any of the dishes Adam ate. And the spaghetti was divine, being covered with parmesan cheese and a tomato sauce that Adam swore was from the ripest tomatoes.

After Adam finished all those dishes, he looked back to the table to see the giant turkey sitting, waiting for him. He decided now was as good a time as any, and decided to cut into the beast. Just like Adam expected, the turkey was phenomenal. The meat was still juicy and melted on his tongue. Adam kepting taking pieces off the turkey, not realizing how much of it he was eating. Only until the fork met the base of the plate did Adam notice his immense appetite. He had eaten the entire turkey without noticing.

Letting out a slight burp, Adam decided to sit back in his seat, expecting his bloated belly to take up a lot of space. However, when Adam leaned back he noticed his belly wasn’t as large as he had expected. It wasn’t as bloated, either. In fact it didn’t look bloated at all. Adam lifted up his jersey to find a tan, chubby belly where his flat stomach used to be, much farther off than he had expected. Adam put his jersey down and noticed the outlines of small moobs beneath his shirt and shorts that had much less space because of his thicker legs. Now nervous and scared of what would happen next, Adam tried to untie the restraints on his legs only to be forcefully pushed to the back of his seat by one of those space suited people. They tied his arms down again, Adam now regretting trying to make a move.

“Now you see our goal for you. You’ll eat and grow until we decide you stop.” The voice came back to ring overhead. Adam was now angry, in addition to his fear from before. He wouldn’t be able to play football if he was too fat, plus, no one would recognize him as a tub of lard. He had always been the lean, football player, not some food addicted fat ass. “Why do you want me fatter?!” Adam shouted at the ceiling. “Oh, you’ll find out later. For now eat like you did before.” And once again, there was silence after that.

Though Adam still did smell good food, the table was still empty. Out of the shadows to his left, a person dressed in the strange astronaut suit walked out, holding some kind of bowl. On the right, another person emerged, but they were holding a plate of ham. The one with the bowl lifted up a large serving spoon filled with mashed potatoes and held it to Adam’s mouth. “Eat.” The person bluntly demanded, nudging the spoon on Adam’s lips. The food smelled so good, but Adam didn’t want to grow any fatter.

Despite eating tons just minutes prior, Adam’s stomach let out a growl. Upset his stomach betrayed him, Adam felt it wasn’t long before he snapped under the pressure. Sure enough, he was taking the spoon in his mouth, swallowing the entire spoonful of mash before eagerly opening his mouth for more. Adam didn’t want to eat, but he was just so hungry he didn’t feel like he had a choice. A second after he opened his mouth, Adam tasted the other person shoving a forkful of ham into his mouth. He alternated bites from both of the people in front of him, not even realizing when they switched to a different food.

Eventually, the two people in suits stopped feeding Adam to let him drink some milk. Adam had been so enraptured with the food’s taste that he hadn’t been able to keep track of himself. He looked down to a terrifying view. His stomach had gotten so big it lifted his jersey up just above his belly button, the tan piece of flesh resting on his wider lap. Moobs were clearly outlined under his jersey, poking against the fabric. His shorts looked even more strained than before, basically stuck to the sides of his thighs. Adam couldn’t see behind him, but if he were able to he’d see that his shorts and undies had been pushed down from the added weight to his rear and they were close to revealing his crack.

Adam freaked out as he finished the milk. He desperately tried to get out, but again to no avail. His added weight tired him out further, too, making him struggle less than before. “Still concerned about your weight, it appears.” The voice rang overhead. It was quiet for a few moments, but the two people in suits came back with more food. One had a tray of cookies and one had a platter of pie. As Adam resisted their demands to eat, a loud ‘thunk’, followed by a ‘click’ was heard before he saw a movie being played on a television in front of him. It was just beyond the dining table, but large enough that Adam didn’t have to strain his eyes to watch.

“How about you relax by watching something while you eat.” The voice suggested before disappearing again. As Adam’s gaze turned towards the TV, he let his guard down long enough that the person with the cookies was able to sneak one into his mouth. The taste was divine and Adam knew resisting now was futile as his bigger stomach took the lead, forcing him to eat whatever was placed in front of him.

What Adam didn’t realize was the film he was watching was designed to alter him. There were short flashes of guys putting on weight and growing fatter. Some images were of guys who were already fat, enjoying themselves in luxurious lives. Quiet, almost inaudible messages saying things like “Grow bigger,” and “Fat is hot,” played throughout the film. Though, Adam wasn’t really to blame for not noticing. The entire point of these things was so Adam would subliminally start to desire to be fat and grow fatter and so he didn’t notice his mind was being changed to do so.

Two films and a lot of eating later and Adam was being fed more milk as a break from all the food. The TV switched off, bringing Adam back to reality. He remembered his situation and looked down at his body one again. His jersey could barely hold his body, his belly completely on show. It was so big it was starting to become divided into two rolls. This left his jersey to only cover his moobs, which looked like they would burst out if Adam put on any more weight. His shorts had split on his thighs, slowing becoming more and more undone as Adam put on more weight. His pants and underwear had been moved further down because of his growing ass which now showed off his plump butt crack, though he wasn’t aware.

However, Adam didn’t seem as worried when he saw his body. He looked at it for a few seconds before looking back up and saying, “I wonder if Melissa would like me like this. Maybe she’ll even feed me good food too.”

To his surprise, neither of the people in space suits responded, but the voice overhead replied with, “Who’s Melissa?” Adam, being more relaxed now, gave the voice an answer. “Melissa’s my girlfriend,” Adam started, “She’s really nice to me and I was hoping my body wouldn’t turn her off.” Adam told the voice. More quietly, he mumbled, “I hope she’s not worried about me.”

A few seconds passed with Adam figuring whoever the voice was had just left again, but Adam was surprised by the voice saying, “That’s strange. I don’t remember you liking girls.” Adam was puzzled. He had never said anything about his relationship, nor his romantic life, before talking about Melissa. “What do you mean? I’ve liked women for as long as I can remember.” Adam replied, and after a few seconds the voice further replied with, “No you don’t, Adam. You like men.”

Adam’s head was spinning. What were they talking about? What was even going on. “W-what are you talking about? I’m not gay.” Adam bluntly said. The voice replied more quickly now, saying, “It seems you’re flustered. Why don’t you watch some more movies and eat to calm down.”

The people in space suits, not giving Adam much choice, shoved a spoon of chocolate pudding into Adam’s mouth as the TV turned back on. Adam admitted defeat early, habitually opening his mouth for the other person to feed him a piece of cake.

Again, Adam didn’t realize that these movies were designed to manipulate his mind. All of the movies had incredibly attractive men cast as actors, with the actors becoming more important with each consecutive movie. And, once again, whispers of messages played in addition to the previous ones. Though this time the messages were saying things like “Men are sexy,” and “Don’t you just love when a hot guy takes off his shirt?” All the while, he was being fed by the two people in space suits, but Adam just ate like it was normal. He just habitually opened his mouth and chewed whenever something was placed in it, used to the process by now.

As one of the movie’s credits rolled, and Adam was being fed a large glass of milk, Adam realized he had just watched quite a few movies and figured he had been distracted for a long while. He looked down at his body, finding it harder to do so now, to see what the hours of eating had done to him. Adam first noticed his belly, which was now pooling into his lap, covering basically all of it. The tan mass of flesh nearly reached Adam’s knees and was now dividing itself into multiple rolls. The legs his belly rested on were quite thick to be able to hold the large, jiggly piece of fat. Adam’s thighs were nearly twice as wide as his waist was before he started eating and his legs weren’t far behind. Because of their size, Adam’s shorts had torn off during the movie, but he was too busy having his face stuffed to notice. His shirt had torn off too, allowing his large moobs to be on display. They rested on top of his ginormous belly and were big enough to hold in your hand. Additionally, because Adam’s shorts tore off, his ass was completely out and the two globes of flesh could be seen clear as day. They looked to be as big as bowling balls and provided Adam with enough cushion so he wasn’t uncomfortable on the wooden chair.

And speaking of the chair, constant creaks were heard from the thing. Adam was too fat for the chair to contain. His belly looked squished between the arm rests and his ass was starting to get a bit cramped too. After Adam was fed another fudge cookie, the chair snapped and left Adam to fall on the ground. His entire body shook, jiggling for at least a minute from the force of the fall.

Adam could’ve escaped then and there, but he was having a hard time getting up with his fat body. Giving up after trying to get up one time, Adam just decided to wait for help. With his arms free now, he decided to feel his grown body up for the first time. He grabbed his belly and let it fall back into his lap, feeling the jiggling sensation go throughout his body. Adam then cupped one of his moobs in his hand, then doing the same to the other one. “This isn’t half bad.” Adam said to himself.

Just then, the two people in strange suits had come back with a new chair. It looked pretty sturdy, being made out of metal and having a wide seat for Adam to grow into. The seat also looked like it retracted, which confused Adam, but he really wasn’t in a place to question them. The two people helped Adam sit in the chair, allowing the big boy to rest somewhere other than the ground.

“It seems like you’re enjoying yourself more.” The voice said once Adam was comfortable in his chair. Adam agreed, so the voice asked, “Did those movies help jog your memory?” Adam was a bit confused at first, but remembered what the voice was referencing. “Yeah I have to admit, some guys are pretty cute.” Adam said, which pleased the voice. But then Adam also added, “But I still prefer girls, and it’s not like I’d want a guy to fuck me. I’d be the one on top.”

The voice was quiet for a few minutes. Then, out of nowhere the voice said, “It appears your memory is still cloudy. We can help with that.” After that, one of the people in suits shoved a tube in Adam’s mouth. Shortly after Adam felt something flow through the tube, which he shortly after tasted in his mouth. It was incredibly delicious and Adam couldn’t help but suck the stuff down. He didn’t know he was eating an incredibly fattening combination of grease, lard, fat and sugar. Then, the TV screen came back on, but this time a movie wasn’t playing. This time there was a black and white, swirling spiral on the screen. Adam was confused and wanted to look away, but found it incredibly difficult to do so, strangely enough. Finally, Adam felt a part of the chair beneath him retract, which further confused Adam. He let out a yelp as the chair seat came back, only this time Adam felt the chair had stuck something in his butt. It was cylindrical, almost tubular. Then it started to move further into Adam’s rear and then slowly moved back to its original position, the entire motion causing Adam to let out a loud, muffled moan. This helped Adam confirm that some kind of dildo was in him, or something of the sorts. Each thrust caused Adam’s entire body to jiggle, the constant movement causing Adam’s mind to be even more thrown off.

“Hopefully a night with this will help bring you back to your true self. Goodnight, Adam.” The voice said. The two people in suits left Adam’s view, with Adam letting out confused moans that were muffled by the tube in his mouth. Adam was completely lost and his mind was starting to be clouded by immense pleasure. Shortly after the voice and people left him, Adam came all over his underbelly, making a mess from the pleasure. Adam was embarrassed but knew he couldn’t help it. The dildo object in his ass was hitting some kind of pleasure nerve and it was hard to resist it.

Feeling like there was nothing else to do about his situation, Adam just stared at the TV and let his mind drift off. Adam was left in a daze, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the continuous spiral. He didn’t feel like he had much of a choice to do otherwise. All the boy felt like he could do was wait for tomorrow, and whatever came with it.

Luckily for Adam, it felt like the next morning came quickly for him. The TV shut off, causing Adam to come back to reality. Even though he had been wacked out of his mind for the entire night, he had still been drinking down whatever substance was constantly being pumped through the tube. Not only that, but the buttplug thing in his ass had been pushing into him the entire night. He eventually got used to the feeling, but it still brought him immense pleasure each time it thrusted into him.

“Good morning Adam. It seems your night was fruitful.” The voice said shortly after Adam came back to his senses. Adam was confused at first, but looked at his body to realize what the voice was referring to.

He had grown massive overnight. Adam’s feet had grown so fat that they had finally snapped his sneakers and socks off during the night. His feet looked like plump little marshmallows attached to a fat piece of meat. Adam’s legs were also much thicker, growing wider as they approached his thighs. His thighs were basically tree trunks now, maybe even wider than that. Adam’s belly rested on his thighs, well for the most part it did. It had grown so fat that it was starting to hang over the edges of his thick thighs, causing flab to hang from Adam even when he was sitting. This wasn’t to mention the numerous rolls that Adam’s belly had, and each looked sweatier than yesterday, most likely due to the treatment Adam’s rear was receiving. Pillow moobs sat atop his belly and they looked like they may start sagging off of it soon. Each moob was about the size of a beach ball and it made it difficult for Adam to look down at himself. As Adam tried to move his moobs to see himself, he realized how heavy his arms were. It was incredibly tiring to move either of them, and when he did move them tons of fat sagged and jiggled off of the appendages. Adam’s face was filled with fat too. He was working his way to a third chin, and his cheeks jiggled whenever he moved now too.

It would be safe to be on Adam not moving a ton now. He looked like he was already overflowing the new seat he had been given. And Adam didn’t even look phased by this. In fact, as he looked over his body, one could’ve sworn that Adam came a few times.

“So,” the voice started, “how are you feeling today Adam?”

The tube was removed by one of the people in suits, Adam not noticing them walk over to him. Just as the tube was removed, Adam let out a humongous belch. It caused his body to jiggle for a good minute and the person who removed his tube had to step back a bit from the surprise force.

“I’m hungry.” Adam bluntly said. Shortly after, he came and added, “And horny.”

There was a pause once again, but after a few seconds the voice said, “Good! So it would be safe to assume you remember what your life is really like, yes?”

Adam was puzzled, scrunching his face up to say, “Huh?” He let out a burp as he said this, not nearly as large as the last one. He also let out a fart, despite the dildo-like object still being in his ass.

Adam couldn’t see it, but the person behind the voice smirked before continuing. “Oh, you know.” The voice said in a friendly tone. “Things like your weight. You’ve always been a fatty. Too lazy to do physical stuff, like sports. Always hated gym and running, none of that.”

As Adam listened to the voice, childhood photos of him appeared on the TV. There were pictures of him in gym class, his chubby face looked tired and, in a later image, exhausted. More images popped up, this time from a few years later. He was sitting on the couch, naked with his chubby belly out, eating a bag of chips and chocolate. This continued until more recent photos popped up, school yearbook photos of Adam as his fat ass self.

“Yeah...I’ve always been huge…” Adam said as memories started manifesting in his mind. He started to forget about his love for football, it being replaced with food. Whenever he felt pressure from his parents or anyone else to succeed, Adam would always eat. It calmed him down and he quite liked being bigger.

“Of course I remember that. I know I’ve always been big.” Adam said, almost as if he was offended.

“Oh? So then you remember your boyfriend, Jason?” The voice went on.

“Wh- huh?” Adam blundered again.

This time, an image of a brown-haired boy with blue eyes appeared on the TV.

“He asked you out in 9th grade. You’ve been together ever since. He’s helped fatten you up. I wouldn’t think you’d forget about him, you two are quite inseparable.” The voice added.

As Adam looked on at the images of the boy, more memories flooded back into his mind. He remembered when he first met Jason, in one of his English classes. When Jason asked him out, Adam was ecstatic, further so when Jason told Adam about how Jason wanted him fatter. He remembered nights of being stuffed to the brim, and some moments of Adam begging Jason to feed him. Any memories of being straight or liking girls had left Adam’s brain.

“He’s so hot…” Adam said in awe as he looked on at the pictures of his boyfriend.

The photos of Jason continued to come and with each photo it looked like Jason lost more and more clothing. Eventually Jason was completely naked, but Adam seemed happier about this than disturbed. He let another burp out before the voice continued to talk.

“And I’m sure you remember how...dominant...Jason is.” And Adam did. He remembered how coercive Jason was when feeding Adam, getting him to down an entire table in just under an hour. Jason made Adam feel like a fat pig, and this was no different in the bedroom. Adam couldn’t remember once being on top, always wanting to please Jason as much as he could.

After a few more minutes of naked Jason photos, the TV went pitch black before turning off. Adam had nearly cum 4 times throughout his “reminders” but he didn’t really seem to notice. He had ejaculated so much during the night because of the chair that he didn’t realize when he busted his load.

“Now, it’s breakfast time. Eat up!” The voice finally said to break the silence. But Adam didn’t even realize the voice had spoken, his face full of bacon and donuts from the two people in space suits. The voice was then quiet as Adam ate. The boy continued to be pleasured from behind, feeling a constant state of hungry, horny and pleasurable relief.

Just as fast as Adam was fed breakfast, he was fed lunch. “Hungry, mphf, need to eat…” Adam said as he was stuffed with burgers and fries, among other greasy junk. Grease dripped down his chins and onto his moobs, as well his chubby cheeks. Burps and farts continued to be released from the growing pig and he seemed to be sweating more too. He looked to be exhausted just from eating the food shoved in his face. Adam didn’t think anything was wrong and just wanted to eat.

Dinner soon came and Adam didn’t flinch at the sound of several carts being pulled up to him. He didn’t see them because of the dark room and his fat obscuring his vision, but he didn’t really care what the food looked like. Adam cared about it being in his gut, opening his mouth wide to be fed more. Greasy pork was shoved in his open maw, along with more fries, creamy potatoes and more juicy turkey. “Want...more...hungry…” Adam panted out before a belch erupted from him.

All the while Adam’s ass was still being toyed with by the chair. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t rock hard, his dick somehow still spurting out cum. Gluttony and lust clouded his mind, Adam being reduced to his base desires. He continued to be fed, sweat dripping in between his rolls and onto the chair.

As Adam finished a turkey, he opened his mouth expecting more food. Nothing came, however, which annoyed him a bit. The feeling in his rear stopped too, with a loud “plop!” sound being accompanied with the feeling of his ass being empty. No longer was there pleasure from behind or food from the front, so Adam was left with nothing to do but wait.

Adam tried to admire his body as he waited, seeing how big he had grown from all the eating he did. His belly drooped down in front of him, hanging nearly to his ankles. Each of his moobs looked to be the size of two pillows stacked in one pillow case, his nipples now as wide as a pepperoni slice on a pizza. Adam didn’t feel like he could move his arms, or at least move them very well. The same went for his legs, which were connected to thighs so wide they’d intimidate a redwood tree. Adam’s face was swaddled with 3 chins that were dangerously close to adding a fourth. His cheeks were as big as his face once was, jiggling whenever Adam made the slightest movements. And Adam’s ass, which had been constantly jiggling from the treatment from the chair, was holding him up about 3 or 4 feet in the air. Each butt cheek looked to be around the size of an exercise ball, all completely made out of adipose.

The sound of footsteps snapped Adam out of his admirable trance, figuring the two people were back to feed him some more. However, they appeared empty-handed and simply said, “Let’s go.” “No desert?!” Adam shouted, but realized that took a lot of energy out of him. “I...need to...eat…” He panted afterwards.

“Oh, you’ll get enough desert to last you until next year. Just get up so we can get you to where you need to go.” The person in the suit said. However, that’d be easier said than done. Adam looked like he was stuffed into the chair, his love handles over flowing from the arms of the chair and Adam’s ass and thighs were pouring out of the spaces under the chair arms. The two people in suits tried to lift the sweaty boy up, but it only resulted in creaking from the chair. Eventually, Adam felt the creaking grow more intense until it finally snapped under him. Adam jiggled for a good 5 minutes, his belly and rolls bouncing up and down along with his ass cheeks and moobs.

Afterwards, the two people heaved the fatty up, struggling to keep hold with all the sweat pouring from Adam’s body. Adam tried to help by lifting his legs, but that did nothing but move his belly a bit. The fat boy let out a fart from all the movement before panting, “Where...are...we...going?”

The people in suits didn’t even look at him, waiting a second before saying, “You’ll remember soon enough.” Remember? Were they taking him to a place he had been before? Did Adam actually know these people? What was even going on? Adam plagued himself with enough questions that he passed out from mental and physical exhaustion, not even being conscious to leave the room he had been trapped in for so long.

When Adam woke up, his eyes had to adjust to the sunlight. Was he outside? The more his eyes adjusted the more he realized he was just inside a well-lit room for the first time in a while. He was in front of a beautiful fireplace, the sides made out of well-crafted stone with a wooden finish on top. The walls were also beautiful stone, and Adam realized he was sitting on a very comfortable black leather couch. Looking to his left, Adam saw a very well decorated Christmas tree with numerous delicately wrapped presents underneath. Adam felt very out of place in this fine, luxurious room being the sweaty, fat pig of a slob he was.

However, Adam felt like he recognized this room. But, where exactly was it? As Adam tried to think, he got a massive spike of a headache thinking of his life. Luckily a loud, excited scream, one he recognized, put him in a good mood. He turned towards his right, where the scream came from, and gave an excited, “Babe!”

The brown haired, blue eyed boy ran over to the sweaty blob and gave him a big hug. “This is the best present ever!” He shouted, giving Adam a big kiss on the lips. “Well, we had to make it for the best son ever!” The father said, and the mother followed up with, “Merry Christmas Jason. You still have more presents to go through with Adam!”

The family enjoyed their opening of Christmas gifts, Jason receiving seemingly everything he asked for and Adam getting some new clothing, most notably an incredibly large thong. Adam remembered he was visiting...no wait...he lived with his boyfriend, Jason. Adam couldn’t remember living otherwise, so he was puzzled as to how he got any other idea in his mind.

After unwrapping presents, everyone headed towards the dining room for Christmas lunch. Adam, of course, would be getting a Christmas dinner later, but Jason and his parents usually filled up on Christmas lunch so much they couldn’t spare a bite for dinner. Adam sat in his huge seat, almost like a throne, though it looked the same as all the other chairs. Jason sat on Adam’s sweaty lap, which was mostly just Adam’s belly at this point. Jason fed Adam nearly everything that wasn’t on his parents’ plates, nearly forgetting to eat himself. Adam graciously ate whatever Jason held in front of him, letting out a belch as he finished the food.

“Lunch was great Mrs. Trebuk!” Adam thanked Jason’s mother. She graciously thanked him for the compliment as Adam tried to stand up, with Jason’s help of course. Adam started to waddle towards the living room to relax, but Jason had other plans. “We’re not done just yet.” He whispered to his large boyfriend. Adam felt his tool poke into his fat at the sound, excited for what came next.

Jason led Adam into his bedroom, which looked to be the size of a regular master bedroom. The bed was bigger than a king sized bed, which was necessary for Adam’s size. Jason heaved his boyfriend on the bed before he started stripping down. “This is my Christmas gift to you, fatty.” Jason said as he let go of his thong, revealing his sizable package. Jason then got on the bed with Adam, who was lying on his stomach, and then behind Adam.

Adam braced for what came next and excitedly moaned as Jason entered him from behind. “I’m so glad I have my fat piggy to play with. You’ll love this too I bet, you sweaty blob.” Jason said as he rammed himself into Adam, having to because of Adam’s ginormous ass cheeks. Adam just moaned, everything just bringing him massive amounts of pleasure.

A few moments later, the bed was covered in Jason and Adam’s sweat, though it was mostly the latter’s. Adam could feel himself coming to a climax, as well as Jason. Jason moaned out Adam’s name as he released into the pig, shortly afterwards saying, “Merry Christmas fat boy.” Adam came himself shortly after, panting and mumbling to himself, “This...is the best...Christmas...ever…” Adam passed out shortly after, waiting for his Christmas dinner, which would be just as fulfilling.

Epilogue

The Trebuk family was a very well-off family. Mr. Trebuk had inherited his family’s programming company, among the other stocks his father had invested into other companies. Mrs. Trebuk was a famous psychologist, renowned for her study in psychoanalysis and suggestion. Having made several books and gone on many early morning talk shows, she brought in nearly as much money as her esteemed husband.

Their son, Jason, was also well-off, but more genetically than in regards to his success. Jason had inherited his father’s metabolism and body, but his mother’s eyes and hair. The combination made Jason a typical pretty boy, though Jason had a bit more muscle than the average ‘pretty boy’ archetype you’d expect.

Jason was also peculiar in the fact that he was gay. With his fame on social media apps like Instagram, TikTok and Twitter for his body, one would expect him to be straight, just like most other boys were. But that wasn’t the most interesting thing about Jason either. Jason liked bigger guys, and not guys who were just more muscled and had a bit of fat on them. No, Jason’s ideal boyfriend was one who was huge, fat and barely mobile.

He had even expressed this to his parents, as the family was very open about their lives. So, when his parents asked Jason what he wanted for Christmas, it wasn’t surprising when he said, “I want a boyfriend who’s a fat pig, but I don’t want someone who’s already fat. I want a guy who’s thin and fit, like me, but make them fatter. And I want them to adore me. And I want them to be a slob. And…” Jason trailed on and on, his parents getting a little skeptical they could even fulfill his wish. Hell, they were concerned they could even get their son a boyfriend.

They proposed saying something on social media about it, but Jason told them he didn’t want his online personality to invade his life. He’d rather his fans think of him as a typical, attractive guy who flaunts his body online. Jason had been hoping this would bring him modeling opportunities, which it did now that he had turned 18, but he would be lying if he didn’t say he appreciated the attention.

As Jason finished up with what he wanted, his mother asked, “Is there anyone at school you like? We could try to base our ideas from there.” Jason eagerly went to his room, but his parents weren’t sure what he was doing. He came back with his yearbook, flipped to a marked page and pointed to a photo of a boy in his same year.

His father put on his reading glasses, while Jason’s mother tried to lean over for a view. “Adam Kolstit?” They both asked in unison. “Yup! He’s sooooo pretty! And I think he’d look even better as a fat pig!” Jason said, his parents afraid of him going on like he had earlier.

“Well, why don’t your mother and I talk about this for a bit and you’ll see what happens on Christmas.” Mr. Trebuk told his son. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Jason said, hugging both his parents tightly. The parents laughed and went back to their bedroom, locking the door so they weren’t disturbed.

“That boy is a handful.” Mr. Trebuk said. “And a half!” His wife added, then going on to say, “How are we gonna get a boy, another human, as a Christmas present?!” Her husband didn’t respond, busily typing away on his computer. “Are you even listening Dave?!” She yelled at him. “Quiet, Amanda, I think I’ve got our out.” Dave said, motioning his wife to his monitor.

Being the CEO of the programming company the town uses on a majority of their technology, Dave had access to nearly every computer in town, and this included security cameras. On screen, he had the camera right outside of a restaurant downtown. “That’s him!” Amanda said, pointing towards the boy. “I know it’s him that’s why I called you over here!” Dave yelled back. “Well follow him!” Amanda retorted. Dave kept switching to cameras until he saw an open field.

“Great Dave, we lost him.” Amanda whined. Dave kept watching the screen though, and said, “Don’t think so.” He pointed to a figure in a blue jersey with long, white pants on. They had a ball in their hands, which they dropped to the ground and kicked around. “So he likes soccer. Big deal.” Amanda said, walking away from the computer to sit on the bed. “It is a big deal! We know where he goes in the afternoon now!” Dave said

“Well now what? It’s not like I can just psychologically make him what Jason wants.” Amanda muttered. Dave then sat up, “But what if you could?” “Huh? I swear you get more senile every-” Amanda was interrupted by her husband saying, “The old warehouse a few miles out. We could store him there.” “And then what? We fatten him up in under a month?” Amanda questioned. Dave smirked and said, “Don’t worry, I know people. With your cooking and their science, we can make him ten times the size he is now.” Amanda then perked up to the plan, “And with my suggestive techniques…” “Now you’re getting it!” Dave complimented his wife. The two had a plan and just needed to execute it. Jason would have his fat boyfriend by the time Christmas came around.

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay weight gain #weight gain story

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ninnodesu · 3 years

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“Can I See You?” ch 5 || Modern!Thomas

It's time, guys. We've reached the ending of this little thing I created! I will be writing an epilogue, but the mainstory is now over.

I so hope you liked this little story, and I appreciate every single comment, kudos and share I've gotten from all of you! It's been so much fun actually writing and ending my first ever fanfiction! Thank you, thank you thank you! Tipjar/sneak peek collection

The more you started to walk on your own, the more the atmosphere in the house had changed. You could feel it, it was heavier. Charlie’s eyes had become colder. He started following you when he noticed that Thomas felt safer leaving you alone for longer periods of time. His eyes had almost gotten… hungrier.

The feeling of eyes dragging over your body during times you’d been alone and doing simple things such as baking, doing laundry, reading, was becoming something unbearable. You’d also begun to notice how Charlie had been home more in general. He came home earlier from his patrolling, and left later than he usually did. That is, if he left the house at all.

At first, it didn’t really bother you. You guessed he just wanted to spend time at home in general. But then came the subtle comments from him. Those… hints. Whispers directed at you if you were close enough to hear them; “Your leg looks nice ” and “I wouldn’t be runnin’ yet, though”. It was always either those hints, or he’d come straight up to you to stand close and breath in your scent. Charlie wasn’t stupid, though, he knew to keep away when Thomas was close by, but even if you remained close to your self-appointed guardian, you could still feel a pair of - literally - hungry eyes following you. Today, however, you were blessed. Because Charlie had decided to leave you alone thanks to Tommy, who you had dragged out to sit under one of the big trees at the end of the yard with. The weather was cool, the sun wasn’t as much of a scorcher for once, so you’d taken the opportunity to relax.

Tommy was leaning up against the tree while you resorted to lay down, starfishing in the grass. “Tommy?”, you spoke up, and he grunted in response. So you turned your head to look at him, noticing he had his eyes closed and arms crossed behind his head. “Does your face still hurt?”. Your only response from him was a side glance and a cocked eyebrow. “I mean…”, you sat up. “Does your face still hurt where you cut it?”, at that moment his brows knit together, still not giving you a proper response. “I’m just saying… If your face isn’t in pain…”, looking down you shrugged. That’s when a deep sigh erupted from him and he proceeded to lean forward. He glared at you, annoyance clear as glass, and you knew; You pushed that particular button one too many times “I...I’m sorry I just…”, you stammered out. He was tense as he raised one hand to spell.

‘E’ ‘n’ ‘o’ ‘u’ ‘g’ ‘h’

And that was it. He left you sitting alone on the grass outside as he stomped off, hands clenched into fists. And you knew you’d gone too far. The front door slammed hard enough for you to hear it, even though you were a few feet away and you flinched slightly.

“Shit…”, you mumbled to yourself and laid on your back again.

Looking up into the sky, you traced the clouds as they slowly drifted by, and your thoughts started to venture into your life back home. Sure, you have your family. But the contact with them has always been sporadic. Not because you didn’t care for them, but only because that's just… how it’s always been. A natural occasional communication, which both you and your parents are comfortable with. Friends? That’s another deal. You have a few, and you keep in contact with them, but you’re not close to any of them. Most of them just being the “ I know you through that person who I met at a party ”-kind of friendship. But you always felt that was better than not having anyone at all.

All that thinking about home awoke a sudden urge to talk to your parents, and you patted the pockets on your jean shorts, cursing at the fact that you hadn’t brought your phone out with you. Groaning, you reluctantly got up from your place to head back in. You didn’t get far, however, before the apparent bloodhound Charlie had transformed into grabbed your arm and pulled you around a corner.

He gripped your upper arms hard enough to leave bruises as his eyes undressed you.

“So, your guard dog left ya, didn’t he?”, you just glared at him and scrunched up your nose as the smell of alcohol wafted towards you. "Let me go, Charlie.", you tugged your arms to try and free yourself, but his grip hardened, making you hiss in pain. "It’s Hoyt to you, bitch. ", he growled. "What do you want, Hoyt?", you pronounced his make-believe name in a childish way, doing your best to get your face into neutrality. "Oh, hun'", he started as one of his hands came up to caress one of your cheeks, "I think we can arrange somethin’ real nice." You turned your head from him, you couldn’t look at him, you knew exactly what he meant by that, and the thought alone was enough to make you sick. But your reaction was not what he wanted, as he grabbed your chin in a hard grip to make you look at him before he continued; “If ya can open those pretty legs o’ yours to his ugly mug”, he started breathing deeper, a low moan escapes him as he continues, “then maybe you’ll do the same for me.”

You just stared at him, Doing your best to hide the obvious shock at what he had said. But if his grin was something to go after; he saw it. “Oh, I heard ya alright. You think you’re being quiet, but I heard him fucking ya.”

You frowned at the obvious breach in private life. You shook your head to get away from his grip. “You make me sick.”, the only words you could even imagine giving as a retort before you inhaled sharply, as you felt one of his hands drag itself over one of your breasts. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered;

"I'll make ya feel better than him." You whimpered at his words, doing your absolute best to ignore the prickling sensation of oncoming tears. "That boy doesn't know how to properly treat a pussy." "Please… Let me go.", you couldn’t help the pathetic plea. "Or…" "Or what, bitch ? You'll call your dumb guard dog to come rescue you?"

That disgusting grin off his returned before he made your blood run cold; " I can't wait to eat you. "

Meanwhile, down inside the basement. Tommy was leaning on his hands as he looked into a cracked mirror, Thoroughly inspecting his scars and deformities. He hated what he saw, always had. He didn’t have a nose and parts of his lips were missing. Your words rang in his mind as he let his head hang.

I want you, Tommy.

For some reason, he was annoyed. The fact that your leg is fully healed now means you could just get up and leave him whenever you wanted. But he wanted to believe, by God, how much he wanted to believe that you wouldn’t. That you’d choose to stay with him, become his and, maybe even… He shook his head. That was a dumb thought.

Looking back up, he was met with a darker shade of his usually light eyes. And he sighed as a storm began to rage inside him.

- I told you. - Stop. - No, you stop, Tommy. Open your eyes. - I have. - You haven't opened them for shit. She's leaving you. - You don't know that!

He punched the mirror, and glass rained down. Blood welled up from where the glass cut him.

- I do know that. And you do too. - No. She- - She what? Loves you? - … - Look at yourself, man. You're nothing to her. - We slept together. - She did that to get on your good side. She did it for survival. - No… - Look in the mirror…

Thomas glanced down at one of the biggest shards on the ground;

- And come up with one good reason she would stay for that.

He growled and crushed the shard under his heavy boot before buckling his mask back on and walking up to the main floor. With the feeling of hunger attacking his stomach he did his best to try and sneak into the kitchen, knowing mama is making supper. His plans got spoiled, however, as he was quickly shooed away from the kitchen by words such as "I don't need you eating everything before dinner!" or "Nuh-uh, Thomas Hewitt. Don't think about snacking before dinner!". A towel getting smacked at his arm had him chuckling and raising his hands in defeat. So he decided to trudge to his upstairs bedroom instead.

A satisfied hum left him as he ran his fingers through the dirty locks on his head, his mask hanging loosely around his neck, before finally letting himself collapse on the bed. He grimaced a bit as he began picking on the bloody scabs that were starting to form.

Shit, these went deep…

He shrugged and proceeded to stare up at the ceiling. Again disappearing inside his head.

- Why don’t you go find her? - Why should I? - To tell her the truth. - Pssh. - Haha. See, I told you. - Told me what? - The truth. - That if you’re ever dumb enough to confess, - she’ll leave. - … - I’m just sayin’, since she can walk again. - I’ve told you to shut up. - Because you’re a pussy and can’t handle hearing facts. - She doesn’t love you. - She used you. Fucked you to get on your soft side. - Do you really think she would love you? Are you that dense? - What do you mean? - You think you could live a happy life? - Get married? - Have kids? - I… uh... - Jesus christ, you actually are stupid, Thomas. - …

He was jolted out of his brain as he heard a knock on his door, to which he tapped the floor with his boot in response. "Supper’s ready, hun.", his mama lit up the gloomy room when he saw her head poking in. He nodded and got up, tucking his hand away from sight. If she saw the cuts, he would just get an earful from her, something he was not in the mood for. The smell of food wafted through the main floor, and his stomach made one of the loudest growling sounds he’s heard; chili was on the menu. Looking around, he noticed you were nowhere to be seen… neither was Charlie. A detail that did not sit right in his gut. He tapped the table, gaining mama’s attention, and motioned to your empty seats;

‘Where are they?’

Luda just seemed to look at the chairs, then at Monty who just shrugged. "I don't know, dear." Thomas didn't like this, he couldn't trust his uncle alone with you. He knew Charlie was a creep towards women, especially so attractive ones. He had, unfortunately, both seen and heard it. But The funny feeling in the pit of his stomach began simmering down just slightly as he saw you both walk into the dining room. Your expression, however, made a chill run down his spine. You didn’t look at anyone. All you did was sit down in silence at the dinner table.

All of you hung your head and listened as Charlie began reciting the dinner prayer. Thomas nodded along as it ended with “ Amen ”. Tommy saw how you mainly just pushed food around with your spoon, mostly just taking the smallest of bites. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of eating human meat, but he did also know you actually loved his mama’s chili. Wanting your attention, he nudged your ankle with his boot carefully, hoping you would look up at him or at least give him a glance. But you didn’t react much.

- I told you - Fuck off.

It mostly looked like you tucked your feet behind the legs of the chair, if the way your thighs moved as he looked over you was anything to go by.

Dinner was silent, only a slight murmuring coming from mama and Charlie. Thomas finished eating first, but decided to stay seated and wait for you. He wanted to know what was up with you and why you looked so… out of it. Your expression relaxed, no smile. Your eyes looked empty, merely staring out into nothingness as you slowly forced yourself to eat. Something was up. But as you thanked mama for the meal and rose to stand up, with Thomas mimicking you; Charlie spoke up. “Thomas, sit down.”, The man stopped in a hunched over position, hands flat on the table, brows furrowed. He glanced over to you, who looked pale and your lips were pressed into a thin line as you left in a hurry. Clatter then came from the kitchen and it almost sounded like you basically threw your plate into the sink. He listened to your footsteps. And finally, a clue. The back door closed shut.

Back yard. Barn, probably.

“Thomas.”, Charlie’s voice rang out again, harder. He just looked over at his uncle with a cocked eyebrow, sitting across from him as he sat back down. “It’s time we talked, boy.”, slowly, Thomas’ breathing increased, brows knitting together as he signed.

‘About what?’

“About your friend, hun.”, his mama spoke out next to him and he snapped his head to look at her before mouthing the word “ no ” towards her. “Tommy, it’s time we talked about this. We agreed.”

‘I’m not killing her, mama.’

His hand movements were stiff, and his face twisted into a scowl. His mama sighed and proceeded to lean back and put her hands on her lap. “I know you like this girl, darlin’, but…”, he was breathing heavily, the thick leather of the mask making every breath sound like a huff. The look between his mama and Charlie made him sick. Banging the table with the palm of his hand he gestured for her to continue before inquiring;

‘But, WHAT?’

“She ain’t family, boy.”, with those words Thomas shot up from the chair, knocking it back on to the floor. He was furious. It was rare for him to get that angry at his own family, which made his motion all the more shocking to the rest of the people in the room. ‘ What do you mean she’s not family?’ In his mind, he knew it was a stupid question. The only one who knew you, was him. They didn’t. To them, you were nothing more than cattle. He stormed out, kicking one of the empty chairs out of his path and making it fly to the corner of the room. “THOMAS BROWN HEWITT!”, his mother called after him. But he ignored her. He couldn’t look at her. All those times she’d talked about grandbabies, and then she was talking about taking away the only person who… He just shook his head and headed off to the barn.

Thomas was off to hunt a specific kind of prey.

The barn was cool and damp, a stark contrast to the settling warmth of the evening sun. You’ve curled up behind an old rundown couch in one of the corners to try and hide from the world. Charlie’s voice echoed in your head. You just wanted to go home, to your apartment, most preferably with Tommy. The only person who could make this hell house bearable. A sudden gust of cool evening wind hit you, and a shiver ran down your spine. “I don’t want to die…”, you mumbled into your arms as you wrapped them around your knees and sobbed. Heavy tears accompanied by hulking whimpers. You were crying loudly, almost screaming out your pain in a desperate way to drown out what Charlie had told you before dinner.

“I hope you said your goodbyes, girlie” “What do you mean?” His smirk, his disgusting grin plastered on his face and that breath that reeked of stale tobacco and alcohol. “You’re invited to our Sunday barbeque,” a tongue slowly dragging over your neck, “but you’re not going to like the menu.”

Heavy, shuffling footsteps alerted you of his presence and made you glance in their general direction before peeking up from the back of the couch. And there you saw him, that beacon of light of yours, how he knew you went out here, you weren't sure. But there he was, and so were you. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed down any remaining tears and hulking sobs. "I'm here.", you weakly called out and threw a hand up from behind the sofa to notify where exactly " here " is. You didn’t have to look up to know he was leaning over the back of the couch, because your entire form was cast in shadow. All you did was curl back up into a ball. "What do you want?", you mumbled, probably too low for him to hear properly, but then the robotic voice you’ve come to associate Tommy with rings out in the barn.

Talk

"About what?", you swallowed again, Fear of what might be about to come bubbling in your stomach.

Charlie

You grimaced as you heard that disgusting name, but you put on a childish voice and imitated Charlie. " Actually, it's Hoyt .", why you did it you weren't sure. But you figured it was because of the sheer fact that you couldn’t stand being mad around Thomas. And you smiled as you heard that deep chuckle of his come from above you. Suddenly, you felt a large hand come lay on the top of your head. He smoothed your hair down, putting a stray strand behind the part of your ear he could reach. Looking up, you were met with those deep eyes of his. His hand pulled away slightly, but all you did was reach for it with your own and put it to your cheek, nuzzling into his rough and calloused but soft palm.

You closed your eyes while enjoying the feeling of his warm hand against your cheek. But then, the memories of what Charlie had told you crept back into your mind. You were invited to a barbeque, but not the way you'd like to be. Reaching up, you grip around Thomas' wrist desperately. Full of angst, fear, a grasp signaling he's the only thing holding you above water. But you couldn't look at him, if you opened your eyes at this moment, the floodgates would open. Because you were too scared of the fact that one day you’d never see his face again.

You didn’t want to look at the man you were going to leave in the worst way possible. Even if you did your best to swallow any and all sobs that wanted to escape, eventually you couldn’t anymore. And you cried. Fat tears running down your cheeks and over Thomas’ hand still resting on you, a big thumb coming to wipe one of them away. His hand disappeared from you before you heard shuffling and a low grunt. Shortly after, you found yourself surrounded by two big arms that lifted you up, only to be sat down on his lap.

His hold was warm, comforting, a castle of coziness and solace. You woke up one day, terrified for your life, looking up into the eyes of the man you’ve talked to online for months, maybe even close to a year, waiting to die by his hand. But now; those very hands were holding you tight to him, shielding you from the real monster, and all you could do was cry. You felt his chest start to vibrate before you heard a low and booming… hum. Thomas was humming a tune, a melody you hadn’t heard before, and soon after, you felt him ever so slowly start to sway from side to side. He was comforting you.

He sighs as he rests his chin on top of your head, calmly swinging while humming the lullaby his mama always sang for him when he had nightmares, or came home after getting rocks thrown at him. He couldn’t be angry at you anymore for nagging on him to start talking. You felt as small as you did during the nights you’d had nightmares and asked him to come sleep with you.

Right then, and right there, he could stay forever. That was better than the first time you’d had sex. When he felt that you’d started to relax a little bit and when he noticed your sobs had started to die down, he swallowed, wetting his dry throat before clearing it with a faint cough. “Mine.” He lifted his head as you looked up at him with huge eyes. An unsure smile danced on his lips before he gave a small, discreet nod. Hoping you would get his message, what he wanted to convey.

You were his. In his heart, you had been his for a long time and Tommy could never live with himself if he lost you without letting you know that you were. He knew the conversation wasn’t over yet, due to the fact that Hoyt would still be on his ass about killing you. And if Thomas wasn’t careful enough; he would do it himself. You weren’t safe here anymore, and he knew that. The deal was that you could stay alive until your leg healed. What would happen after that? Tommy was truly scared that he would lose you, one way or another, and he made the decision to confess his feelings for you then and there. The look you gave him sent the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy. Carefully, he took your chin and turned your head slightly for him to easier whisper into your ear; “You’ve always been mine.”

He bit back a chuckle when you quickly turned your head to look him in his eyes. “What…”, all he did in response was smile at you and slide a hand under your jaw to caress your cheek with his thumb as he took your face in, making sure to remember it. His eyes travelled over your eyebrows, outlining the shape of your nose... Those beautiful eyes, and the shape of your cupid's bow, loving the fact that your lower lip was just slightly thicker than the upper one. He moved his thumb from your cheek to slowly let it drag on the edge of your lower lip. Your heart fluttered in your chest, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach as you felt his lips land on yours. It’d been two weeks since you’d slept together. Neither of you had initiated anything more than just leaning up against one another - or mostly you using Tommy as a pillow - while watching late-night TV when neither of you could sleep.

His lips were warm, his raspy breathing fanning over your cheek as you entangled your hand in his dark locks of brown to pull him closer to you as you accepted his kiss. A small delighted hum came from him as you did. He surprised you, however, as he made the decision to deepen your kiss, a sign of dominance he hadn’t shown you before. His heavy tongue asking for entrance by tenderly dragging over your lower lip. And you happily accepted his question, parting your lips to give his strong muscle room to take the control he seemed eager to express.

You only gave him a quick taste, however, then moved around on his lap to instead straddle his big thighs and wrap your legs around his waist. Thomas, ever the shy man he was, reacted as you’d expected him to. His face turned a lovely shade of red, and his hands started to awkwardly hover over your hips. Every ounce of bravery he just had in his body seemed to have just seeped out through his very pores. Hands balled into fists only to unclench again.

You giggled at how fast he relaxed as you took his hands and put them on your hips. “Tommy… Relax.”, you whispered close to his face. “You’ve touched me before. Remember?”, you breathed out a laugh as you saw his eyes shoot open, his face becoming redder as he nods quickly, and his eyes dart around the barn as if trying to avoid you. Your fingers carded through his hair to find the buckles of his mask. After silently asking for permission to remove it, a smile grew on your face as he nodded, closing his eyes as you slowly unbuckled it and put it down next to him.

His shyness always got to you. He was such a hulking giant, covered in muscles made for manual work, muscles made for crushing bones. His mere presence had the ability to invoke fear, yet there he was, seated on the floor behind a couch. A blushy mess, with you on his lap. It didn’t take long after straddling his thighs before he pressed his lips to yours. Again, he asked for permission to taste you. And again you gave it to him. His tongue met yours, and you moaned as he pressed his against it. Tongues, curious to taste and to feel one another. To commit each other's taste to memory. Last time, every kiss you had shared while he thrust himself into you was hurried, Hungry, and in the heat of the moment. But now? The kiss had a meaning, it was a silent communication between the two of you. It was between two people, two hearts connecting. Both of you knew what the kiss meant, you were made for each other.

You’d fallen in love with a perfect stranger, long before he had shown you his face. The way he had talked to you, about his hobbies. The love he had for his family, the passion for his work. He was your shelter and your knight. All it took for Thomas to fall for you? Your voice. He still remembered when you accidentally sent him a voice recording, how you laughed at your dumb little miss click, ending the recording with “oh well, hi” . And to him, you fit perfectly into his arms, the spaces between his fingers made for yours.

A devilish thought hit you, and so you ground once over his crotch and laughed when he broke the kiss with a loud grunt, almost pushing you straight off his lap. An action only hindered by your hands wrapped around his neck. He glared at you and shook his head. “Why not?”, you replied in a sultry teasing voice. He refused with his head and nodded to the open space behind you. “Oh, no one will notice us here.”, his face reddened up again. He kept vehemently indicating “ No. No sexy times in here. ” But you wouldn’t back down. Again, you ground on him, causing him to groan and move his hands to your hips. You attacked his lips, hungry to taste his moans as you moved over his growing erection. After another hard grind, Tommy grabbed your hips hard and took control, Slowly moving you over his crotch while you ate up every sound he made. It didn’t take long for you both to end up in a frenzied dry humping session. At some point his hand had found its way up under your top, lightly pinching a nipple between his fingers. The barn was filled with grunts and heavy moans from the both of you, but a sudden high noise startled you. Your movements stopped. You turned to look towards where the sound had come from, both of you silently listening for more noises while Tommy reached for his mask and buckled it back on over his head.

A bang. And a scream .

Thomas was fast up on his feet, basically throwing you off his lap and bolting towards the house.

The scream belonged to mama.

Inside, Tommy was met by the frightened stare from a woman he had never seen before, something that wasn’t uncommon and Thomas figured she was one of Hoyt’s hookers. The drunk idiot had probably slipped up: he either accidentally told the woman what really goes on in this house, or she snuck off after he had passed out and ended up finding the basement. And so, that woman was holding his mama hostage with what looked like one of Charlie’s guns. She was terrified. Thomas' chest was heaving as he glued his eyes on the gun.

“Drop the gun, hun. And nothin’ is gonna happen to ya.”, Luda’s voice was calm, but Thomas could hear the faint undertone of fear in her voice. She’s terrified but refuses to show anything. ”L-let me go! A-and I won’t call the cops!”. When the woman spoke his eyes snapped to her, so Thomas took one step forward, but she quickly pressed the gun into mama’s temple, making him stop with a muffled growl. "S-stop! Or I'll… I'll do it!", he remained still, opting to look at his mother as she explained the situation with only two words. “She knows, Tommy.”, Luda Mae flinched as the stranger behind her scoffed and pressed the gun even harder into her temple. But her face was locked in neutrality, and he couldn’t help but admire the strongest woman he’s ever known. “Yeah! I-I know! Fucking crazy, inbred psychos…”, she hissed

Thomas raised a hand, spelling out;

'H' 'o' 'y' 't'

His eyes flickered down to her finger doing an upwards motion to the floor upstairs.

Fucking asshole

Was all Tommy could think before the poor woman’s eyes suddenly shot open in shock. Blood bubbled up from her mouth and she sputtered, covering mama's right cheek in crimson. The hand holding the gun fell to her side, and as it did, Tommy made an act at lightning speed to pull mama behind him. He just stared as he saw… you. He saw you pulling the knife out of the hooker's throat. You'd stabbed her. Straight into the jugular, and as she went down he followed her before shifting his eyes to you as you wiped a bit of blood off your cheek. Your face was unreadable. He wasn’t sure what kind of emotions you were conveying at that moment. Fear? Disgust? Anger? Sadness? He didn’t know. But the hand holding the knife was shaking, almost to the point where it would vibrate out of your palm. He listened to your raggedy breaths coming out in sobs before you suddenly dropped the weapon, then leaned over the sink and threw up.

The sound of rushing water echoes on the upper floor where you’re furiously scrubbing your hands while hyperventilating, hands shaking badly as you do. Your thoughts are in a whirlwind, trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’d killed someone. And knowing what will happen to her body now, that she won’t have a peaceful burial in a beautiful grove or surrounded by her family, makes you nauseous. You had essentially just handed them dinner.

Suddenly, your airways tightened and you couldn’t breathe, the room was too small, too hot. And with a bang, you slammed the water off and ran through the house, ignoring the angry voices that yelled after you as you shut the back door. You don’t care. You need air, now . Outside, you pressed your back against the tree that you early on shared with Thomas, before sliding down it as you feel air returning to your lungs. All you did was breathe for a few minutes, focusing on returning to your senses while staring up into the night sky, counting the stars. As you did, your mind wandered back to your apartment far away from here. Patting your pocket, you smiled slightly as you felt you had your phone with you, and pulled it up. You replied to a few text messages, answered the occasional neglected work emails, and finally opened the gallery app.

Looking through it you realized just how much you actually missed it. It was your home after all. You even missed those neighbors who always had loud hangouts, that old lady who seemed to have more plants than her balcony could fit, and then there was that old divorced man and his cat. That… stupid cat who always forgot where it lived and had ended up in your apartment too many times to count. “Dumbass cat…”, you mumbled as you remembered the first few times it had startled you when you got out of the shower or got home from work and suddenly there was a cat laying on your couch.

Then it hit you.

I should call mom and dad.

Before scrolling through your contacts to find your mom's phone number, you looked at the setting sun and sighed, while figuring out what to tell her exactly, but hoping it would go to voicemail. You took a deep breath as you pressed the green phone symbol. Each dial tone sounded heavier and heavier before you were finally connected to what you had hoped for, voicemail.

"Hey, mom.", you started, straining your voice to sound happy. "It’s me. I just wanted to talk to you, but it seems you're busy."

As usual…

"Uhm… I'm sorry, mom. For everything I've ever said.", you pulled a bit at a loose strand on your shorts, going quiet for a minute. "I love you. And I miss you. Please forgive me."

Ending the call quickly as you felt the telltale sign of tears start to emerge, you pushed your phone back into your pocket and brought your knees up to your chest. Hugging your legs you just sat there, with nothing in particular in mind as you leaned your head on your left knee and closed your eyes.

You didn’t remember actually falling asleep, but what you did remember was being enveloped in strong arms that carried you from a cold night's breeze into warmth, along with faint but angry voices spitting nasty words, and finally ending up laying on something soft. The familiar scent of Thomas’ skin invaded your nose as you nuzzled your face into his pillow. A soft hum escaped you as he laid the cover over you. The floor creaked, and you couldn't hide the tired smile tugging at your lips as the sound of a familiar sigh echoed around the room. Reaching your hand for the giant trying to sneak out, you beckoned him. "Tommy…", he turned. Looking at you from the doorway, his eyes flickered between you on the bed and your outstretched hand. "Come." At first, he shook his head. And turned again to let you sleep alone but stopped when he heard you ask for him again. "Please. I’m cold.", a lie. That's when he caved and closed the door before turning towards you. He loomed over you, his massive form shielding you from everything that went on in this house of terror. Carefully, you reached up behind his head, fingers gliding through his soft hair to search for the fastenings to his mask. Even if he’d had his mask off just hours ago, he seemed just as nervous as earlier when it came to you removing it.

But you loved him, even if he didn’t have a nose.

Tommy sighed in relief as he felt the mask leave his face, and though he still hated being without it, it always felt nice taking it off. He pressed his forehead against yours just to feel close, but couldn’t help to smile as your lips came close to his. "It's okay…", you whispered to him., your low voice sending shivers down his spine, and he nodded.

Looking down at you, he realized how much smaller than him you truly were. He knew his muscles would mean death to you if he ever were to lose control during encounters with trespassers. The mere thought of him not being able to distinguish you from any potential dinner victim and going berserk before you was something that scared him. Scared him to the point of sending a wave of anxiety through him. But now, it wasn’t time to hunt. You were here, laying under him on his dingy bed. The only ray of sunshine in the eternal night that was his cursed life. His heart swelled when he saw your smile as he leaned in to capture your lips with his own and he sighed softly as your hands returned to his hair to pull him closer to you. When he felt your tongue meet his, he hummed in appreciation.

Slowly, Thomas tested the waters. One of his hands slid over the side of your stomach under your tank top, feeling the softness of the skin before letting his hand travel down towards your thigh. He was nervous since he’d never taken initiative with a thing like that before. But you didn't stop him, so he continued. His hand reached your plump thigh, one firm delicious squeeze making you let out a pleased hum into his mouth, a sound he happily swallowed down. He wasn't exactly sure why, but you moaning against his mouth sent chills through his body, which made his cock tingle.

You giggled a bit when he suddenly wrapped the leg, which thigh he was in the middle of groping, around his waist, making it easier for him to snugly fit his hips between your legs. His mouth left yours, traveling down your jawline, his small gentle kisses turned into bigger open-mouthed ones as he got to your neck. Your breathing increased as you felt his tongue slowly drag over that one sensitive spot you had. His whole demeanor changed when you moved to get a better hold of his hair and pulled. As you did, he took your wrists and pinned your arms above your head in an iron grip, not leaving the spot on your neck that he seemed hell-bent leaving a mark on. He nipped at you to test your reaction. You gave him what he wanted and let out a quiet moan, a sound that made him buck his hips into the space between your legs. When he finally lifted his head to look at you, arousal raced through your body because of what you saw.

Normally blue eyes taken over by something dark, hungry, and almost… animalistic. The look his eyes held made need surge through you in a way you hadn’t meant for this to end in. You’d given Thomas a taste of pleasure, and all he wanted now was more. You could see it in those eyes. He wanted more, and he was going to take it. “Oh…”, was all you could say as he rose up, squeezing your wrists once and giving you a look that said, “ Try me. ”. He smirked as you looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. Letting your wrists go, his hands moved towards your breasts. A shuddering breath left your lips as his big hands cupped your plush skin, groping your mounds deliciously, before pulling your t-shirt up over them. One thumb came to run slow circles around one nipple, while he kissed his way to the other one. A low moan crept up your throat as you finally felt his tongue drag over the hardening bud.

You answered his action by slowly moving your hips, making your sex rub against his clothed erection. A shiver ran down your spine as you heard him groan against your breast at the friction given to him, a puff of hot air hitting your collarbone. Lifting his head, his eyes met yours, and you could see he was as turned on as you, stare glazed over by lust. "I need you.", you whispered out shakily as you moved your hips again. He smiled, and your heart melted.

Thomas moved his kissing down your body until the bed seemed to run out of length.

Only then did his fingers find the button on your jean shorts, clumsily unbuttoning them as he sat up. As soon as he'd gotten them open, they were thrown away, discarded on the floor somewhere. He took the previously broken leg of yours and put it on his corresponding shoulder, a hand running over it and leaving trails of kisses down to your knee. His other hand, not occupied with anything, found its place on your pubic mound. His thumb landed on your clit, a mischievous grin dancing on his lips as he pressed down firmly once on your sensitive spot. "Ah!", you jerked and he chuckled at your reaction. You just pouted at him before your face relaxed into pleasure, his thumb slowly rubbing in circles while his lips kissed your leg gently.

His digit traveled south and found its way inside your needy hole, the intrusion making you buck your hips to the best of your abilities as you groan. His eyes fixated on your face, the way your brows furrowed, your mouth slightly opened as a symphony of moans and gasps came from your lungs. He loved the sight and sounds you made, they only made him braver. Knowing he made you feel good, only him. That despite him being inexperienced, all his attempts bore fruit.

No matter how much his cock throbbed inside his jeans, or how warm he was starting to feel, he wanted to make you cum before him just like the first time. "T-Tom-Haah! Tommy, I'm-!", sweet sounds left your throat right before he stopped, grinning again as you shot him an annoyed look. "That's mean…", he chuckled in response and shook his head. Thomas suddenly lifted you up with no effort, replacing your body with his own as strong hands firmly grasped either side of your hips. And before you knew it, he had maneuvered you above him. His head takes a dive between your thighs, fingers wrapping around generous amounts of your rear and eyes glinting from below you as he dragged his tongue along the inside of one of your plush thighs, making you gasp. The closer he moved towards your aching cunt, the heavier you started breathing. But right as he was about to rub against you, he stopped. Again, you groaned. "Please stop teasing me, you ass.", you whined. One of his hands came into view and he slowly spelled out two words.

'B' 'e' 'g' 'm' 'e'

You silently did as you were told by sliding closer to his face, but all he did was grab your waist and lifted you away from him, shaking his head. That was not what he wanted. He wanted to hear you beg for him to eat you out. Your voice was low as you shakily gave him what he wanted; "T-Thomas, please. Please, please, please… eat me. " He smirked before slowly dragging his tongue through your folds. Relishing in your taste coating him, he hummed when he felt your thighs tremble against his arms as he held you tight, the countless videos he’d watched on various porn sites of this specific position running on a loop in his head. "Oh my God.", you said as you let your head fall back, a loud "Ah!" coming from you as he found your clit and flicked his tongue firmly against it, your hands coming to rest in his hair. The urge to rotate your hips hit you, though when trying it, you were met with a bruising grip on your hips and glaring blue eyes staring up at you. Silently daring you to move on your own accord, his glare told you that you were not in control. You whimpered at the sight but reluctantly stilled your hips.

You gasped as you noticed his tongue prod and tease your entrance, feeling how he moved it slowly, digging the strong muscle deeper into you.

Below you, Thomas found himself in heaven between your soft thighs as he pulled those sounds he loved hearing from your throat. Sounds he knew only he could cause. When he couldn’t hear them anymore, he only pulled you close to his face. And right there, right then, Thomas enjoyed having no nose, the absence helping him reach far into you. "Ah… To-!", your words are interrupted suddenly, your body jerking before tensing as he finds your clit again, sucking gently on it. "Fff-... Shi-.", you couldn’t form words as he alternated between sucking gingerly and massaging your nub with the flat of his strong muscle and moving his tongue in and out of you.

The coil tightened quickly, almost too quickly. Looking down, you met his eyes, glossed over with hunger and animalistic lust. His firm grip on your thighs kept you seated on his face when you were thrown over the edge in a cry, as he gave one hard suck over your clit. He moaned against you as you clamped your thighs shut around his head, lapping up your orgasm like he was actually starving. He then returned to slowly fuck you with his tongue to let you come down from your high. You panted as you looked down at him, fingers lightly scratching his scalp with a postorgasmic smile plastered on your lips. Thomas grinned as he licked your thigh to catch a stray strand of your arousal.

Shortly after you’d collapsed next to him on the bed, Tommy got up to finally take his own clothes off, his tank top sticky with sweat and the fly of his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against his raging erection. He let out a sigh of relief as his dick was finally released, the front of his boxers moist with precum. The bed dipped under his weight as he returned to position himself between your thighs again, letting your legs rest over his meaty ones. His hands gingerly went up and down your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles as he waited for your signal. His stare revealed his hesitation, wanting nothing more than to push himself into ecstasy, but not having the heart to take something he thinks he wasn’t allowed to. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. His cock throbbed as it lay on top of your mound, and his chest swelled with pride as he saw the evidence of how good his tongue had made you feel as he waited for your approval to take you. You reached down to gingerly take hold of his cock with your soft hands, your fingers rubbing over his sensitive head and coating him with his own arousal. A thumb lightly pressed on his silver barbell, eliciting a throaty groan from him as you looked up to meet his eyes. "Wanna fuck me, baby?", you asked in a sultry voice as you dragged your hands over his length. You saw how a shiver ran through his body as he nodded, instinctively bucking into your hands.

"Take me."

You gasped as his length pressed into your waiting entrance, and you arched off the bed when you felt him bury himself to the hilt in a swift, desperate motion. "Ohh… oh.. God…", you scrambled to find his arms, needing something to hold on to. Tommy breathed out a laugh before hissing in slight pain as he felt your nails dig into his arms. Even with the wetness from both your orgasm and his mouth, it's a stretch. So both of you needed a minute to adjust.

His breathing was hot over your face. An experimental thrust from him had him gritting his teeth, and you digging your nails deeper into his arms. Craning your neck, you got close to his face with a smile on your lips. "I'm fine, Tommy. Take me. " Upon hearing those words, he pressed his lips against yours, the taste of you still on him, just as his hips started to move. He lifted your legs up only to wrap them around his waist, and soon enough the movement of his hips began pummeling your insides. His cock hitting all those right places in your cunt that made you squirm and moan under him. Your mind went blank, not even trying to comprehend how he was able to so easily transform you from a rational being to only a mess of moans and limbs made off putty after only having sex two times. But not a single nerve in your body was complaining about the fact that he could. Incoherent sounds meant to resemble his name tumble from your throat inbetween loud moans. Down there, inside the room within the basement he was so used to dwelling, Tommy didn’t give two shits if his family heard you or not, he just needed to listen to every sound you made.

You yelped as he suddenly switched everything up. your legs were wrapped around his waist, making it easier to pull you up and onto his lap while he positioned himself on his knees. His cock buried deep into you as you clawed at his back, afraid you might float away if you don’t. His hands came to grope your ass, effortlessly holding you up as his strong arms moved you up and down his cock. The wet smacking sound of your soaking thighs hitting his echoed around the room, only adding to your arousal. His movements were deep and hard, hot moans brushing against your neck as he found your sensitive spot and lightly bit down on it. A loud grunt surged from his throat when he felt your cunt clench hard around him as a result from his biting.

He shifted again, pulling his cock out of you to turn you around and prop you on all fours, a position that gave him a perfect view of your ass and the way his dick stretched your pussy out as he re-entered you. Another shiver ran through his spine as a new kind of deeper moan comes from your throat. His large hands gripped your hips to make it easier for him to pull you onto his dick in rhythm with his thrusting. Your moans were muffled by his pillow as tears of pleasure streamed down your face. Your ears managed to capture the occasional deep baritone of “shit”s and “fuck”s coming from above you, causing your eyes to roll back into your skull.

You let out a whine as you felt a hand snake itself south and a pair of big fingers find your clit. His movements were fast, clumsy and almost desperate as he rubbed your most sensitive spot. The added pleasure making it so the coil in your lower belly tightened much faster. As Tommy leaned over you, you were pressed deeper into the mattress when he propped himself up on the hand not occupied with rubbing tight circles around your nerve bundle. A heavy puff of air coming from him made your hair billow exposing the ear he was looking for. His voice was strained and raspy when grunts and moans tumbled from his throat as he felt your walls clench around him.

He swallowed thickly, desperate to wet his parched throat before uttering one single word into your ear, a demand.

“ Cum.”

The delicious combination of his cock pumping in and out of you and his fingers massaging your clit gave you only seconds to fulfill his demand. The orgasm that washed over you was strong enough to make you scream into the pillow as you clamp down on his cock, your hands desperately trying to grab onto the mattress. Above you, Thomas let out a heavy moan that vibrated against your back as he felt the increasing tightness around him, his own orgasm quickly closing in. Four more hard thrusts into your then battered pussy had him gasping, the hand supporting him pressing into the mattress hard enough for his knuckles to turn white before cumming deep inside you. A satisfied hum came from you as you felt his dick twitch and pump his thick seed inside you, delightfully filling you up.

Thomas hissed as he pulled himself out of your throbbing core, then collapsed next to you with huffs and heaves surging from his tired lungs. You slowly slid your legs down to lay flat on your stomach and turned your head to look at him beside you. He had his eyes closed while running a hand through his sweaty brow, trying to catch his breath. You smiled at him and brought your right hand close to his face to stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Hey…”, you whispered, getting close to kiss the scars on his cheek before pressing your forehead to his temple. He hummed in response, signaling that he was listening to you before you continue; “ I think I love you. ” His eyes shot open and he turned his head towards you, eyes filled to the brim with a combination of emotions as they seemed to search for something on your face. Doubt, maybe? Or ridicule? Lies? But all you do is nod and smile again.

One of his hands came up to the back of your head and entangled slightly in your hair as he pulled you in for a kiss. It was soft, full of emotions he either didn't want to say out loud or couldn't. But you knew what it meant.

"I love you too."

You snuggled up against him, taking his right arm between your own, giggling as you felt him stiffen slightly when you pushed it between your breasts. Your hand reached down to lace your fingers in his before letting sleep take you.

You were abruptly woken in the night by screaming voices and hard bangs on the floor above you. Thomas was equally startled awake, and sat up, breathing heavily as he carefully listened.

" Thomas!", you heard Hoyt's voice yelling for your beloved, who reacted quickly. But you grabbed his hand and tried to pull him back to you. "Tommy, don't… please .", you pleaded. He gave you a look you've never seen before. You felt small as if a beast was staring you down with a threatening look that said " Let. Me. Go. ". And it was at that moment you realized you weren’t talking to your Tommy anymore, which scared you. The Thomas you’d fallen asleep with just hours ago is gone. And the Butcher of Texas is all that was left. So you listened. You let go of his hand and watched him dress up, holding your breath to avoid starting a fire within him. And finally, your eyes followed him to the door.

Curling up under the covers again, the bitter realization hit you.

It was your chance to leave, to go back home. The family would be busy with trespassers for a few hours, Hoyt most likely harassing some poor woman, Thomas off to ki-... hunt.

Getting out of bed, you quickly threw your shorts on, internally thanking Tommy for never removing your t-shirt. Even if you knew this meant leaving him for good, the man you just hours ago confessed your love to, it also meant you would most likely live, and a normal life at that. Besides, you could always contact him through the phone, and that thought made it easier for you to sneak up the basement stairs. The sliding door was heavy and screeched as you pushed it open. You heard Thomas' chainsaw roaring from somewhere close by, along with Hoyt's encouraging howls and a blood-curdling scream. You felt nauseous and wanted to puke as you knew what was going on, but tried to cast those thoughts aside while you walked on your path to freedom.

You hurried across the old dining room, but probably due to the fear-fueled trembling of your legs, you curse as you trip over your own feet, attempting to swerve around a puddle of blood. Hissing, you rub the knee that took the brunt of the fall. And when your eyes start to look around for any threats, you see him.

Hoyt. The last person you wished bore witness to your endeavor.

Your fall had seemingly alerted him of your presence. As you stood, you kept your eyes locked on him before noticing the sharp pair of scissors laying on a small side table. And upon grabbing them, you taunt him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Come on, old man. You’ve wanted to kill me since I got here!" Before you knew it he was on you. The man knocked you to the floor and straddled your waist while pinning your arms above your head. "He ain't here no more to protect ya, bitch.", he licked his lips as you struggled to get him off you. Seeing him lean in close, you took the opportunity to bash his nose in with your own head, causing him to release your arms to grab it as it gushed out blood. You pushed him off you, straddling him instead. Breathing heavily, you grabbed the scissors in both hands and raised them above you, stretching your entire body to get as much power in your killing blow as possible.

Hoyt grinned as he looked up at you preparing yourself, his tongue reaching out to catch fat drops of crimson dripping from his nose.

Your blood ran cold as ice as a giant shadow fell over you. "To-", a huge hand gripped the main hand holding the scissors. His grasp was tight and you winced as a sickening crunch rings out of your joints before the sharp pain hits you. And you screamed, dropping the scissors. The pain was excruciating as Thomas forcefully lifted you up from his uncle and threw you into a nearby corner. You clutched your broken wrist close to your chest and cried as you watched the predator that has taken over your beloved Thomas slowly walk towards you. Both hands moved to grip his chainsaw. Your breathing started picking up, your heart rate going too many miles per hour and the rushing of blood deafening in your ears.

"Tom- Tommy, please. It’s me!", you pleaded as you saw him pull on the snare to start his weapon. "No… no no no!", behind Thomas you saw Hoyt standing up, hollering words of encouragement to him. "Fucking get her, Thomas!", you shook your head as you sobbed violently, berating yourself. Why did you think trying to kill Hoyt was a good idea? He was Thomas’ family, after all, something you weren’t. Something you would never be.

He pulled the string once, and the saw sputtered, then died. He pulled it again, the same result. He growled and pulled it a third time before realizing it had run out of gas, something you took as a chance to run away. But before you knew it, he'd grasped you by the throat, lifting you up against the wall. You cried out as his grip tightened, your good hand scrambling to grab his wrists in an effort to break free.

"Tommy… p- pleas- hck", he clamped your throat shut, interrupting your begging. Your vision started to blur as the air became sparse, and your nails dug into his arm in a desperate attempt to get Tommy back. Your lungs hurt, your brain was in a blur and your vision started to fade. You focused the last remaining strength you had to look at Tommy in the eyes, his usual sky blue irises now taken over by darkness. Hidden behind sweaty hair and the face of someone else. The last air in your lungs is spent on three words.

" I love you."

Crack.

Thomas watched as the dinner guest fell limp against the wall.

"Good job, boy.", Hoyt patted his shoulder blade. Thomas just grunted and threw the body over his shoulder to head back into the basement to finish his work. This was one of three bodies he had to cut up and he sighed as he knew he wouldn't get any sleep the remaining hours of the night. He grunted as he hung two of them up, saving the freshest one for last since that body hadn't been waiting for as long.

Heavy sighs came from him as he finished preparing to cut up the last body. All he wanted was to get back into bed with you and sleep the remaining hours. The last body was small, something he greatly appreciated because that meant sleep was imminent. Thomas removed his mask after he laid the dead cattle on his table as sweat started to pool and stream down his neck. Lumbering over to a bucket of water, he splashed water over his face to cool down.

When he turned back; his heart stopped, blood turning to ice and nausea rolling over him in big waves before he rushed over to the table. This wasn't a dinner guest or cattle. It… "No…" , he was shaking badly as he put a heavy palm on your cheek. A lump formed in his throat as he looked over your body, running his eyes up and down it, making sure there was no mistake, that he wasn’t hallucinating. You were just here moments ago. With him. Happy. Alive. He pressed two fingers at your neck, searching for a pulse. Tommy panicked when he saw the bruising on your flesh. He'd killed you. In the middle of hunting trespassers. The last thing he remembered from his killing spree was walking into the… the old dining room… and seeing someone sit on top of Hoyt threatening him with something sharp. And then there you were, an unmoving corpse resting before him, right on the same table he had sworn not to put you back on. He couldn’t remember anything else, couldn’t remember even seeing you up on the main floor.

How did all this happen?

But what he did know was that there was no going back. Nothing could bring you back now. He took one of your hands in his while mumbling desperate prayers that you weren’t gone. You were just asleep, and he wanted you to wake up. " Please, wake up..." , he sobbed. You were cold, so cold. Nothing like he remembered you just hours ago. When you'd hugged his arm before falling asleep, your fingers intertwined with his, your breathing even against his shoulder. You were warm then.

Not like the unmoving figure you had become. And he let himself cry, something he hadn’t done in so many years, his eyes burned, another punishment for ending your life. Stroking your cheek, he turned your head so you were facing him. His thumb traced your bottom lip as he thought back on the last kiss he gave you. Tommy has never cried for another person as he did now. You were the first one outside of his family that had shown him tenderness, that felt like home. The first one to show him, love. His rage took you away from him, something he had feared deeply since you set foot in his basement. You were supposed to be his forever. His wife. The mother of his children.

Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispered the words he never got to say earlier. " I love you too."

#Can I See You #CICU #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfiction #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction #modern!thomas #ninno og #it's the actual ending #only the epilogue is left now #god i hope you'll like it and i'm so sorry

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darker-soft-starker · 4 years

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Starker High School AU, Pt.1 (Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5)

tw: enemies-to-lovers, swearing, mentions of fighting

----

Peter’s day started like most others.

The nearby screech of his alarm startles him into the waking world. Without opening his eyes, he fumbles against his bedside table to grab his phone, smacking himself in the face in his haste to silence it.

It’s always a Herculean effort to get up before the sun does, and today is no different. Squinting against the grey morning light, Peter contemplates simply closing his eyes and going back to sleep. The thought is tempting, the pull of sleep still in his limbs.

Instead, he resigns himself to the day and slips out of bed, reaching for his glasses and propping them on his face.

Through finger-smudged lenses his phone say’s five-thirty-four, which in itself is an affront, but he’s comforted that it’s a Friday and respite isn’t far off. This weekend will be spent sleeping, playing video games and eating cinnamon poptarts until he succumbs to a blissful food coma.

He can’t freakin’ wait.

Hearing his aunt rouse the room over, Peter gathers his clothes and hurries to the shower. The November chill bites as his bare feet touch the floor and he shivers, cursing the lack of heating in his apartment. It’s positively freezing.

The hot water is nice while he showers, but it’s much worse when he gets out, still wet as he tiptoes back to his bedroom. Fruitlessly, he bangs the old iron radiator in the hall with his fist as he passes it, because it does little more than encourage a groan from the ancient equipment.

Back in his bedroom, Peter hums as slips on his sweats and sneakers and readies himself for the day against the tune of an awakening neighborhood, spraying himself with probably too much deodorant in the process.

Finished, Peter puts his glasses back on and in the window he inspects his reflection. He smiles.

It’s Friday.

It’s gonna be a great day.

----

To no-ones shock but his own, his affirmation was proving true.

So far, Peter actually was having a great day.

Because it was late November but the sun was shining so splendidly that it quickly froze the frost from the windows. A small miracle occurred when he found a scrunched twenty dollar note stashed in the pocket of his jacket - and with it he treated himself up a packet of Lays, a red bull and a sandwich from Delmars

And for once, he wasn’t late to training.

For the early hour that he arrives, the school is near empty, save for the male locker room which is slowly teeming with a slow drip of weary-eyed boys. Yawning, Peter dumps his backpack and retrieves his mouthguard, sharing commiserative glances with his zombie-eyed teammates. It’s truly an ungodly hour to be at school.

But, despite his drowsiness, Peter doesn’t mind the early mornings so much, probably more accustomed to it than the rest. It sucks, but he’s happy to get the training out of the way -- it makes time for after school priorities like Robotics and chess club.

He slaps Barnes’ on the back when they file out, jogging to get ahead. Like his heater, his friend groans in response.

Coach Danvers is already there when they arrive, her arms crossed over her chest. Peter approaches the field with a growing sense of weariness, augmented by the flat line her mouth forms as they near.

Once the team is assembled, Coach clears her throat loudly for their attention.

“Look alive, boys,” she raises her voice. “Good morning. I’d like you to welcome back Wilson and Rogers, who, as you may recall, were suspended from training for three weeks.”

Suspended completely from school grounds was more accurate, Peter thinks, clapping along as cheers erupt around him, the remarks are met with fervent enthusiasm for their return. Someone whistles and he looks to the source, spotting the two boys in question in receipt of fist-bumps and back-slaps from the team.

Rogers and Wilson rarely did anything in isolation of one another. They were attached at the hip. It was probably the reason that they were both involved in a fist-fight with a couple of other juniors a few weeks prior.

Peter’s happy to see them back. They’re great guys, have always been good to him. And whilst he steadfastly abhors needless violence, Peter finds himself in a grey area to judge the circumstances. He wasn’t there, doesn’t know what the fight was about. What he does know is that they were both damn lucky they weren’t kicked off the team.

It’s probably because the board knows they wouldn’t win another game without them.

Lucky for the team.

“Enough,” Coach snaps. “We play Kingston next week, six days! You look like you want to play hopscotch instead of football. Do you want to play hopscotch?”

“No, coach,” the team settles, echoing in unison. Danvers slowly circles the group, eyeing each of them down as they fall into line. Peter keeps his gaze fixed to the goal posts on the near horizon to avoid her furious gaze.

“Doesn’t look like it. Are you sure?”

“Yes, coach!”

“Well, color me shocked. Maybe you want to hold hands and paint each others fingernails? Well, guess what, boys - I do not care what you want. What I want -- and what you should want -- is to not give Principal Fury a reason why we’ve lost another match. So you,” she points at Rogers, “and all of you juvenile delinquents,” she gestures to the crowd, “keep the violence to the field. Am I clear?”

“Yes, coach!”

“Great,” she brings her whistle to her mouth. “Gassers until I say stop or until you pass out, starting now. Move!”

Her whistle sounds sharply and, at faced with the fury of her stare, the team scatters across the field.

No one more so than Peter, who flees to the hard edge of the field at her command and commences running, feeling every chomp of the frigid, late fall air in his chest.

Coach Danvers was a hardass. But if anyone could convince Fury to not kick two of their best players off the team, it was her.

Peter had well well and truly worked up a sweat by the time the whistle was blown again and the team was split into three to run drills.

He was wishing he hadn’t eaten the whole sandwich from earlier when Quill rams his shoulder into his stomach for the third time, bile rising in his throat. He powers through it but by the time coach blows her whistle again to switch to the next drill, he’s feeling green, sunburnt and sweaty.

Which wouldn’t be so bad, if a small crowd of students hadn’t rocked up early, relaxing on the bleachers to watch the training.

Amongst them were a group of juniors who were smoking and laughing to themselves. They gave Peter the finger when he ran past, but he ignored them.

“You suck, Parker!”

The colour commentary from this particular group wasn’t uncommon, but Peter didn’t care. He’d heard worse from Flash in middle school -- and they were good friends now.

Not that Peter wasn’t paying attention. Because also perched upon the steps was a group of seniors, specifically, a fair-haired boy that made Peter’s heart do funny things in his chest.

As Peter ran his laps, the aforementioned boy descended the stairs. He leans across the fencing separating the seats and the field and smiles at Peter when he looks over.

Peter would blush, were his face not already pink with exertion.

The boy’s name is Thor.

Well, that’s what his friends call him. Peter isn’t actually sure of his full name but he does know that Thor is a senior and an exchange student from somewhere in Europe.

Thor started at their school in September, qualified immediately for their varsity team and is a super sweet guy.

His locker gets stuck sometimes. It just takes elbow grease, but once, Thor noticed him struggling to open it and didn’t hesitate to hurry over to help. He had it opened in a matter of seconds and had smiled just like he did now. Peter has been smitten ever since.

Any lingering doubts he’d had over the summer regarding his bisexuality were swiftly and resolutely confirmed as soon as he saw the older boy striding down the halls, a head taller than anyone else, smile a mile wide, accent like liquid gold.

He’s just so pretty. And nice.

Feeling Thor’s eyes on him, self-consciousness creeps over Peter as he continues his laps. But he channels it, using the opportunity to prove himself, maybe impress the other boy, running faster despite the burn in his lungs and thighs.

Come on, Parker, keep going.

He looks over again. Every time he does Thor is looking at him - at Peter - and maybe it really is his lucky day. He keeps pushing himself to go faster, harder until his heart is throbbing in his ears. The next time he looks over though, Thor is lifting his sweater over his head.

The action makes his undershirt ride up, revealing a tantalising strip of bare, hard skin.

Peter trips, hitting the ground hard.

Motherfuck.

There is immediate, raucous laughter by the bleachers as he groans and picks himself up, body protesting. He spits out grass on the ground, dazedly noticing the smoking kids, Stark and Rhodes, clapping at Peter’s performance.

Setting back into a jog as his face flames, Peter refuses to look over again to see if Thor noticed.

That would be just his luck.

----

By first period a deep, purple bruise is blooming on his chin and knees. There’s a graze on his cheek from the fall and his jaw feels like it did when he first got braces in fifth grade, stiff as hell and sensitive to the touch.

Shuri laughs at him when he sits beside her.

“That bad?” Peter asks, flinching when she takes his jaw in hand to inspect the damage.

“It’s not like you can get any uglier,” she remarks, turning his head from side to side. “It’s fine, just maybe don’t smile at small children. What happened -- did you try to rescue another old woman?”

“No,” he sighs, pulling back, embarrassed. “I fell at training this morning and ate dirt. I got distracted.”

“That’s a first.”

His cheeks heat.

“Yeah, well.” He leans in closer to whisper, eyes darting around the room. “Thor was there. He said hi to me.”

“That’s it? He said hi?”

“Well, kinda. He smiled at me. Like, he looked directly at me and bam, blinded by the light. And then he did this thing with his shirt --”

Shuri’s eyes go wide but whatever she has to say is curbed by the arrival of their teacher. She pulls out her notebook and points at him with her pen. “New low,” she whispers. “What the fuck, PP.”

Peter shrugs.

Her disdain is evident and Peter can’t help but smile, even as it pulls his injuries.

His fortune again turns, receiving top marks for the last assignment and his teacher wasn’t even that mad when he was caught texting during class. Maybe it was the split lip or the sorry state of his nose that inspired pity from the faculty, but he wasn’t about to test his luck.

He clearly wasn’t going to get through to college through his prowess at football, so he pockets his phone, apologises sheepishly and sticks his head into his books.

Maybe he replays the moment in his head as he takes notes, filled with equal measures of shame and giddiness.

At least May would be satisfied that his glasses were preserved from damage and wouldn’t have to buy a new pair.

By the time class ends, his face is well and truly throbbing. He winces when he yawns, prompting Shuri to roll her eyes at him as they head into the halls.

“You’re so embarrassing,” she says, knocking their hips together as they weave through students on their way to the bio labs.

“Pity me. I’m wounded.”

“Oh I pity you alright,” she says distractedly, nodding to the far end of the hall. “Hey, look. Stark and Rhodes are back from suspension.”

Peter looks over.

Stark is talking to some girl, leaning against the lockers while Rhodes tries to pull him away, presumably towards their next class.

Peter shakes his head, recalling their antics that morning. “Yeah, I noticed. Stark should have been expelled. He started that fight.”

“Uhh, don’t even. Rogers threw the first punch,” Shuri reasons, waving to both boys as they pass.

“Semantics.”

“That’s a big boy word.”

“I’m a big boy.”

Shuri pokes his grazed cheek.

“Sure you are.”

----

The next few periods passed without a hitch.

But the best part of all came during lunch.

It was Mac’n’Cheese day. The best day of the week -- well, the only day of the week that Peter can afford cafeteria food, if he was honest, but he sure made it count.

Fortuitously, MJ had gotten there early enough to secure their group a table together and the lunchlady that was sweet on Peter had given him an extra scoop of the gooey pasta, to his delight. Maybe it really was his lucky day, he thinks, taking a spot at the table.

That would be a first.

He’d been riding on the high of his morning, gracelessly shovelling the cheesy goodness into his gullet when it happened.

“Don’t look now,” Natasha says to his left. “Wonderboy is coming through.”

Peter looks up at the exact moment Thor strides past their table, catching his eye.

The other boy grins roguishly at him. His teeth are so white.

“Hey there, Pete,” he waves, nodding to the rest of the table and moving on

“H-Hey, Thor,” he swallow roughly, waving back. “H-Hows it going?”

Thor already having moved on, doesn’t respond, and for the butterflies beating against his stomach, Peter doesn’t even care. He smiles down at his pasta, heart racing a mile a minute. Wow.

“Hey, Thor,” Shuri imitates him.

Peter swallows, ignoring her, cheeks going pink. “He knows my name. Oh my god. He knows my name.”

“Who cares, the whole school knows your name,” MJ says, without looking up from her textbook.

Shuri points her fork at her in agreement. “Yes. Thor’s a meathead. You can do better.”

“No he can’t,” Ned disagrees. "Have you seen that guy? His biceps are like bowling balls.”

Bucky parks himself between Steve and Natasha, throwing an arm around them both. He puts on a high voice, fluttering his eyelashes. “Who, Thor? I heard he’s a model for Burberry.”

“I heard he does Adidas commercials in Norway,” Natasha adds.

“And he’s quarterback of the varsity team,” Flash finishes.

MJ blinks.

“And?”

“He’s got a four-point-oh,” Peter says dreamily.

He stops paying attention, eyes going unfocused as he imagines their next interaction. Maybe Thor will ask him out, god willing. He imagines Thor and himself graduating as Valedictorians in their respective years, throwing their caps high into the sky and embracing. Their classmates will clap as they kiss. Maybe they’ll then spend the summer in Thor’s hometown, wherever that is. Peter doesn’t know, but maybe it has rolling green hills, cute cobblestone roads and snow-capped mountains, maybe they’ll go on horse rides and picnics where Thor will surprise Peter and propose and --

Someone snorts behind Peter, shattering the illusion.

Peter turns in his chair to find one Tony Stark grinning wickedly, apparently eavesdropping.

“What,” he prompts, frowning when that elicits a wider smile from the other boy, his dark and unkempt hair falling across his forehead in front of his eyes.

“Nothin’,” Tony tucks his wayward strands behind his ear. “I mean, well. Just that you said he’s got a four-point-oh.”

“And?”

Tony shrugs. He holds his pinkie up to his face and wriggles it.

“And I dunno, Parker. Gotta say; You seen him in the showers? Four is a little generous, don’t you think? More like three.”

Peter stares.

Tony tilts his head, conceding.

“O-kay, three and a half.”

Peter rolls his eyes. This guy is freaking bent.

“Well, that’s three and a half more that he’s got on you, Stark. Mind your own business.” he turns back around to the table. MJ, across from him, has her lips pursed in an attempt to hide her smile.

“S’gotta be the steroids,” is what he hears Tony say to his friends before they start to snicker. “Seriously -- you seen that guys’ balls? No? Neither have I. Not for a lack of trying.”

Peter ignores him.

Tony Stark is prickly. A smartass, although he’s rarely antagonistic -- unless it’s towards Peter and his team mates, of course.

Peter doesn’t really get why. It doesn’t serve him to spend longer moments of musings on someone who clearly hates him, but thinks Steve and Tony used to be friends before falling out at some point, way before Peter came to the high school and joined the JV team.

Like he does with everyone, Peter had tried to befriend Tony at first, but it quickly became clear that the other boy had no interest in making nice, sneering at every pleasantry and effort. Before long, Peter’s extended hand of friendship became a clenched fist.

Rhodes and Potts, his friends, seem to be reasonable. Cordial that borders on unfriendly, sure, but reasonable.

Tony, however, seems to get a kick out of the perpetual disharmony.

Whatever, Peter scoops up the last of his pasta, chewing it with a pleased sigh. It doesn’t matter. Propping his chin on his hand, he replays the exchange with Thor over again in his mind, heart racing all over again.

This is the best day ever.

Not even Tony Stark can bring him down today.

-----

Peter Parker wouldn’t consider himself a religious person or a believer in a higher power. He was scientific, clinical. Rarely did he attribute his fortunes -- or misfortunes as it were -- to anything other than deterministic chaos.

But there was something called Parker Luck, as his Aunt called it. Whilst evidence of it was purely anecdotal, it was a theory Peter believed in whole heartedly.

He might not have hard proof, but all the trends in his life end in the same answer.

Parker Luck. It’s a thing.

----

Fortune, momentarily swings his way again during History.

Mr Jacobs, their regular teacher with a stiff upper-lip, is off sick and the sub lets them have an independent study period, which is code for doing fuck all.

He doesn’t have any friends in this class so he utilises the time finishing his math homework and doodling in his notebook. If he draws a few hearts with his own initials and those of a certain exchange student, then, well, that’s his business.

By the time he’s in Economics, his final class of the day, Peter is feeling pretty damn good.

He takes his usual seat in the back row next to Natasha, dropping his books on the table with a thud. The noise awakens Jake, the stoner guy, who sits on his other side. Peter offers him a smile as he takes his seat.

This should be good.

While Economics holds no special place in his heart, Miss Ahn is by far his favorite teacher. She’s young, late twenties, Peter thinks, and is one of the more approachable teachers in the faculty. She worked for some big deal accounting firm before she found her calling in teaching and has always been good to Peter.

She watches the kids as they file in and smiles at them as they take their seats. In her hand she’s holding a Met’s cap (another reason for Peter to adore her) which, upon inspection, to be full of folded pieces of paper.

When she has the attention of the room she greets the class and takes attendance. Curiously, nothing is said about the hat afterwards as she walks around the room, offering the hat to each student and allowing them to withdraw a single piece of paper.

Bewildered, Peter watches his peers and their increasing confusion as they open their pieces until it’s his turn.

He takes one out of her hat and opens it with uncertainly.

He unfolds it. It reads: middle-school art teacher.

Peter frowns.

He peers over to Natasha, whose expression mirrors his own.

“Great, that’s everyone!” Miss Ahn nods and returns to the front of the room to lean back on her desk. A slow smile spreads on her face and Peter, for the first time in her classroom, feels dread creep up his spine.

“So,” she claps, “building on our discussion last week we were talking microeconomics versus macroeconomics, I mentioned an assignment. Who remembers?”

The class collectively groans.

“I know, I know, it’s a hard knock life. But, it’s not going to be that bad, i promise. You might find it fun. Mr Barnes, what does yours say?”

In front of Peter’s desk, he watches Bucky unfold his paper, pausing.

“...Personal trainer?”

“Great. And yours, Mr Wilson?”

In the second row, Sam frowns at his paper. “Therapist.”

Miss Ahn seems pleased, pointing at the two.

“Congrats, you two are partners for the next week. You’re married, you have no children. But you holiday twice a year and have a mortgage.”

“I’m sorry,” Barnes glances between Wilson and their teacher. “We what?”

She addresses the class as a whole.

“You two, as you all are once you are partnered, are to prepare an annual budget for your fictional household. This is the microeconomics portion of the assignment.”

“Are you saying I’m fake-married to this clown?” Sam gestures with his thumb, displeasure written all over his face.

Peter snorts as their teacher nods.

“Right! Just for two weeks. I expect your budgets to be detailed, okay? I strongly recommend extensive research into the respective fields you are assigned. Average salary, student loan forecast, the works. Figure out how much you owe and how much you earn. Rent! Bills! This is worth 40% of your semester grade. Do you love it?”

Peter looks back down at his paper, reading it again. The trepidation from earlier comes back as a pit in his stomach.

"Miss Potts, how about your paper?”

The girl grimaces.

“Divorce lawyer.”

“Great. And Mr Rhodes?”

“Colonel,” he reads, tilting his head as he considers his paper. “Cool.”

“Awesome. You two are estranged sweethearts, supporting three kids. You share equal alimony, rent separately, and are set to remarry. Natasha?”

Natasha blinks at her paper. “Executive Producer.”

His teacher hums, tapping her lips with her finger as she circles her desk. “Single. No kids.”

Natasha grins, all teeth.

“Mr Parker?”

Peter reads his paper aloud, smiling as his fingers shake, feeling each pair of eyes of his fellow students as they await his fate.

“And you, Mr Stark?

In the second row, closest to the door, Tony crumples his paper in his hand. The room is pervasively silent. Tony clears his throat, tossing the paper onto his desk with evident disdain.

“Stay-at-home-parent,” his voice so quiet that Peter nearly misses it.

“Excellent. Okay then, you and Mr Parker are married ---”

Peter’s stomach drops.

Oh no.

“-- you’ve just adopted a four year old. You two met at work, Mr Stark is taking time off to care for the child -- figure out your savings, salary, budget for a new family --”

Tony’s hand shoots up swiftly, his fingers waving in the air.

Peter follows suit, arm stretching high. No. This is -- no.

“Miss Anh?” Tony interrupts, bouncing in his seat. “Yes, hi. Tony Stark, that’s me, the guy you just condemned. Just wondering, is it possible to switch partners?”

The teacher pauses,

“No, it's not.”

Peter raises his hand higher.

“Can you make an exception?” he asks, lowering his hand and looking between Tony and Miss Ahn uneasily. “I think that would be best.”

She places her hands on her hips.

“What’s the issue, boys?”

Before Peter can even open his mouth, the other boy cuts in.

“You see Miss A,” Tony interjects, hands pressed together in a fervent plea, eyes closing, as if in prayer. “Here’s the thing: I just can’t work with neanderthals. They bring down my grade average.”

“Anthony.”

Miss Ahn frowns. The entire class turns in their seats to watch the exchange and Peter feels his face heat.

“Well lucky for him, I can’t work with underachieving eighties rejects whose parents pay for their grades.”

“Wow,” Stark gestures to their teacher, “you hear that Miss? You driving that ‘94 Volvo on my parents money? Gosh, I am so sorry. Let me get you an upgrade.”

He turns to Peter, face heating at the attention of the class.

“Shit, Parker,” he continues, gesturing to him. “You really are as dumb as rocks. I mean, don’t you ever get tired of perpetuating your own stereotype?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Do you ever get tired of being an insufferable asshole?”

Tony puts a hand on his chest. “Absolutely. It keeps me up at night.”

Peter huffs. “You’re exhausting.”

“You’re loathsome.”

“Prick.”

“Princess.”

“Boys!” Miss Ahn cuts in, snapping her fingers, her expression positively thunderous. “I don’t know what has got into either of you, but that is enough.” She points to them both. “Unless you have a real, valid complaint, quit it. Right now. You’re going to work together on this assignment or you both of you will fail.”

Peter and Tony share a look.

“Your choice,” she says, pointing at each of them. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Tony huffs, turning back to face the front of the room.

Peter crosses his arms over his chest and nods.

“Great. Now, not a word from either of you for the remainder of this class. Scott, your turn.”

Peter fumes silently as Scott unfolds his paper and reads it aloud to the room.

“An entomologist!” He shifts excitedly in his seat, beaming widely. “Wow! Wow. Man, that’s so cool. I love Lord of The Rings.”

Miss Ahn sighs.

---

“Stop laughing,” Peter hisses, leaning in closer to Natasha. “Shut up. It’s not funny.”

The redhead leans against Peter’s locker, hand clamped over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You are not,” Peter grumbles, brushing her aside to get into his locker. It sticks when he pulls iy, like it always does, and Peter has to tug to get it open. “This is the worst day of my life. I’m cursed.”

“You’re not cursed.”

“Who’s cursed?”

Peter turns in time to see Bucky swoop in and embrace Natasha from behind.

“Me. I’m cursed. I gotta be, right? I mean, what reason would there be for me to be paired with Tony Stark? Am I not a good person? Have I not suffered enough?”

Natasha opens her mouth but Peter barrels on.

“And what does Tony Stark know about managing money?” he continues, shoving notebooks haphazardly into his bag, despair increasing. “His dad owns a fleet of Ferraris and a private jet. He probably has a diamond encrusted butthole. The guy hates me -- I’m cursed.”

“Wow. You’re so dramatic.” She looks to Bucky. “Are you hearing this?”

Peter poins a finger at her.

“You’re just saying that because you’re going to be a successful single multi-billionaire or something. I have to be married to the stay-at-home dickwad.”

“Maybe you could teach him a thing or two.”

Peter scoffs, shoving textbooks into his backpack, weekend plans obliterated by the volume of homework he’s received.

“What, like how to not be an asshole?”

“Why are you so obsessed with his asshole?”

“Speaking of the devil,” Bucky cuts in quietly. “Your three o’clock.”

The devil indeed, Peter thinks, zipping his bag and closing his locker. He turns just in time for a stony-faced Tony stride towards him.

“Stark,” he greets darkly.

“Parker. Do you prefer Parker or Princess?” Tony waves his hands dismissively. “Nevermind, I don’t care. So, this assignment? Here’s the thing --”

“Let me guess,” Peter interrupts, slinging the straps of his backpack onto his shoulder. “You’re too busy to complete your half? That’s fine, it’d be best if you let me write it. That way you might actually pass. Win, win.”

Tony looks at him, lips pursed.

“Uh, no. No, and then also, no. That’s an awful idea. What are you, like, a C average?”

“Actually, I’m --”

“I don’t actually care. Listen, as much as I would love to be as far away from you as possible --”

“-- Likewise --”

“ -- Miss A will know if we bullshit her. I know you’re intimately familiar with the experience, but she isn’t an idiot. She can spot your mediocre work a mile away.”

Peter folds his arms over his chest, glasses slipping down his nose.

“You’re not actually proposing we do this together, right,” he queries, pushing them back up. The ire from earlier continues to burn in his chest. “Can you even read?”

“Haha, oh my god, you’re like so funny,” Tony runs a hand through his hair, voice going glib and high pitched. His expression goes serious. “Write your address in my phone. I’ll see you there at six.”

“Why at six?” Peter frowns, taking the phone when Tony waves it in his face. He begins typing in his address, pausing briefly to peer at the other boy. “And why my apartment? Am I going to dirty up your mansion?”

“Penthouse, actually,” Tony crosses his arms over his chest. “And because I have better things to do this afternoon that isn’t aspirating on your sweat fumes.”

“You can aspirate on my ass,” he mumbles through his teeth as he resumes typing, chest going hot.

“Tempting, but no thanks. Are you done yet? You type slow. Do you know you type slow?”

“Shut up,” Peter rolls his eyes, locking the phone and returning it to its owner. “Don’t be late. I’m not joking, I’m not waiting around for you.”

“Sure thing, princess,” Tony pockets his phone, retrieving a cigarette from behind his ear and slipping it between his lips. “Don’t shoot on arrival.”

“No promises.”

It goes unheard, however. Tony has already turned and left, headphones secure over his ears.

Annoyed, he turns back to his friends.

“That guy is the worst.”

If he was expecting sympathy or commiseration, which he was, he comes up short on both. Instead, met with Natasha whispering into her boyfriends ear as she casts him a suspicious side eye.

“What?” He pokes her in the arm. “What are you whispering about.”

Natasha shakes her head, poking him back. It hurts.

“Nothing.”

Before he can retaliate, Bucky slings an arm each around Peter and his girlfriends shoulders, smiling easily at them. As a trio, they walk towards the exit, the hallway near empty, save for a few stragglers idling by the doors.

“Don’t worry, Pete. She was just sayin’ one of you will be dead by morning,” Bucky offers, squeezing his shoulder.

“Um, not me, right?” Peter asks, adjusting his glasses on his nose again. “I’m alive in this scenario?”

"No.”

“Hey!”

Bucky jostles his shoulder. “You saw the shiner he gave Rogers the other week. You already look like you fell into a blender.”

His jaw throbs at the mention.

Natasha snorts. “Ha. You’re a goner.”

“No, I’m not. I could fight if I had to,” Peter argues, as they part the double doors at the exit. Descending the stairs, the couple head towards the carpark and wave him off. “I could!” He yells, walking backwards, accidentally bumping into a harried-looking freshman.

It goes without response. The two share an amused look before disappearing, but Peter isn’t even mad. He’s wily. He could totally take Stark in a fight.

Heading out of the grounds and towards the nearest subway entrance, Peter winces as his injuries are jostled during the descent and massages his cheek gingerly. An old woman ascending the stairs gives him an odd look that turns horrified when he smiles to ease her.

By the time he’s swiped his Metrocard and made his way to his track, his hood is covering his face.

Yep, he’s doomed.

#starker #ironspider #high school au #enemies to lovers

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anarchy-and-piglins · 3 years

Text

Somehow Technoblade had managed the spectacular achievement of becoming the odd one out in an entire community made up of rare and strange beings.

The fact that all the other residents were non-humans happened to be what made him different though. Wilbur had told him the history of the commune, how their town was founded with the direct purpose of being a safe place for mobs and hybrids to live in peace, secluded from the humans who hunted them, enslaved them, or would otherwise harm them. Their location was kept secret, hidden from most by enchantments, and they were almost completely self-sufficient in the way they were run in terms of food and stuff.

Only occasionally would somebody wander out to another village, to trade or just to seek a little adventure for themselves. Phil especially was prone to do this – a traveler at heart, his Elytrian nature – and he was the one who had found Technoblade in a rather... compromising position.

If by compromising you could mean having an arrow sticking out your back.

People didn't like Technoblade. And Technoblade generally didn't like people, but he liked it even less when they chased him out of their villages with their bows drawn. Phil had been kind enough to remove the projectile. Technoblade had bravely said it didn't hurt but then secretly dug his blunt nails into the palms of his hands hard enough to leave white indents. Then Phil had insisted on taking him home to get a proper look at the wound and clean it up.

Not all of the other residents were thrilled with Technoblade's presence at first, scared it could compromise their location. A lot of their tunes had changed when they found out other humans were the cause of his injury, even more so when Techno revealed this was hardly an isolated incident. People didn't like Technoblade at all.

(Most humans had little tolerance for that which they did not understand. And according to them, Technoblade was weird and very hard to understand. Techno understood himself perfectly fine, he always thought they were the weird ones.)

So he stayed and overall things worked out great. There were only minor issues caused by the 'only human around' thing. Their pub was a good example. A few of the others in the commune could simply fly or teleport, and those that couldn't had no problems either since they could rely on inhuman stamina to make the climb tolerable. Techno had a hundred rungs of a ladder he needed to brave with his pitiful human physique if he wanted to get up there. Same thing for Phil's ridiculously high-up birdhouse.

And then one day he got sick.

It was probably his own fault. Last night when it was storming he'd been coming home from mining and gotten completely soaked out in the rain. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he should probably take his drenched clothes off and get warm and comfortable as soon as he got home – the voice sounded suspiciously like Phil when he lectured Techno about fixing his terrible sleeping schedule and eating more regularly. But he had gotten distracted by putting away the materials he'd mined into his chests and starting to smelt the ore and by the time he noticed he was shivering at how cold it was, his clothes were damp more than wet. He lighted the fire and felt too exhausted to bother getting changed, crawling under the covers as he was - though it didn't completely ward away further trembling.

When he woke up his head hurt and there was this annoying tickle in his chest, feather-light touches against his lungs. The clothes had become sticky and uncomfortable, peeling off his skin. Techno coughed into a fist and set out as normal, intent on resuming his tasks where he left off yesterday.

It would probably go away on its own.

Except the coughing didn't stop. Small bursts of it kept coming up when he needed them least. He was in the middle of one when a voice rang out behind him.

"Techno, are you okay dude?" He must have jumped a solid three feet into the air and for a moment Wilbur only chuckled at his reaction.

"I told you to stop doing that," Techno grumbled, a little too sharply. Just because Wilbur could literally appear out of nowhere didn't mean he had to use that ability to sneak up on him for no reason. Techno coughed again, hiding it in his elbow.

"You did," Wilbur acknowledged with a smirk, but didn't apologize. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look I'm doing, I'm headed to the mines." Techno swung his pickaxe up on his shoulder, kind of almost nearly dropping it in the process with how clumsy his hands were being. Stupid.

"It looks like you were hacking up a lung, really." Wilbur's features softened. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Techno responded. He started walking again, knowing Wilbur would have a hard time following him while in corporeal form. Especially in the daytime.

"Are you coming to the pub later? I've got some new plans to unveil, think they'll be sick." Wilbur did make a valiant attempt at following him, though he quickly started falling behind, floating inches above the ground and unable to keep up with Techno's human strides.

"Uh, I'll think about it?" Techno answered evasively. He wasn't looking forward to braving that ladder in his current state. His arms hurt just thinking about it.

Wilbur stopped to call after him. "What do you mean you'll think about it?"

But Techno was far enough gone to be able to pretend not to hear him as he descended down his mineshaft.

Techno liked Niki's hair a lot. He'd even told her so not long after meeting her.

It was long and wavy and a nice shade of pastel pink that reminded him of the sunset. Technoblade would consider growing out his own hair that long if he didn't know it was way too unruly to keep in shape and stay untangled. And if dyeing it wasn't such a chore – one he knew he'd be too lazy to undertake as regularly as he should – he might have dyed it from its boring brown shade into something more interesting.

Niki was glad he was keeping her company while she tended to it, combing through it with what he presumed was a comb made of a seashell. Techno didn't tell her he had only really left the mines early because his lungs were starting to strain from the dust down there, the coughing fits getting closer together with less time in between to let him breathe. He sat on the sandy shore and traced patterns into the sand with one finger while they talked.

Niki was telling him about her builds, and expressing her disappointment over how she couldn't easily show them to her friends. None of them could breathe underwater or deal with the pressure common at the depths Niki lived. But she loved describing them in detail.

She was just explaining the sea glass she was intending to use when Technoblade started coughing again. His lungs expressed their displeasure through a series of sharp pangs that shot up into his neck. The sound he made was wet and disgusting, like there was something liquid rattling around inside his chest. Niki stopped talking to look at him worriedly.

"Are you alright? Techno, what happened?"

He tried to wave her away but it was kind of hard with his body still intent on making it impossible for him to get oxygen. Techno closed his eyes against the blurriness of his vision to concentrate on inhaling slower instead. "M'fine." He could feel the phlegm in his throat.

Niki was pulling herself onto the beach a little, trying to get a closer look at him. "Are you sick?"

"No." Getting up so fast was a bad idea. His head spun and he felt incredibly shaky. Techno ignored it. "No, I'm not. It's fine. I think I'll just head home now."

He started walking away quickly. The afternoon sun felt unbearable suddenly, scorching. Or maybe that was the beginning of a fever.

Niki called after him to wait but confined to the water as she was, it wasn't like she could do anything to stop him. Technoblade walked until he crested the hill, already seeing the shape of the other buildings in the distance. He made it halfway through the grass field and then he felt too drained to continue. Deciding to sit down for a bit, he lay back and closed his eyes.

"Do you think he's dead?"

"I dunno, we should poke him with a stick to find out."

Techno groaned at the sound of loud voices, ringing painfully around his aching head. He cracked his eyes open – not sure when he had even fallen asleep - and tried to blink the three faces hovering above him into focus.

"Oh, I think he's alive. Kind of." That was Ranboo.

"We could still poke him, just to make sure." Tommy.

Which meant the third person had to be Tubbo.

Techno pushed up on his elbows to get into a seated position, hating how difficult it was. His limbs were weak, as if they were made of jelly or some shit. The light fever had escalated into him feeling like his entire body was on fire.

This was not good.

"-chno? Hey, anybody home?" Tubbo was talking to him, waving one hand in front of his face. If his frown was any indication, Techno had been spacing out for a while.

"Hm?" he asked.

"I think there's something wrong with him," Tubbo said to the others.

"I'm fine." Techno tried standing up but fell back onto his ass a moment later when dizziness plowed into him with the force of a boulder. Tommy snorted.

"Yeah, we can tell." He reached out but pulled his hand back as soon as it came into contact with Techno's skin. "Fuck you're almost the same temperature as Jack Manifold. Pretty sure humans aren't supposed to run that hot."

"I'll get Phil," Ranboo offered, teleporting before Techno had a chance to object.

He covered his face with his hands and sighed. This was going to be a thing now and that happened to be the exact opposite of what Technoblade wanted it to be. He just wanted to go home and sleep this off.

"You're not..." Tubbo broke through his thoughts. The boy hesitated, wings vibrating a bit with nervous energy. "You're not like... actually dying are you?"

Techno tried to answer but was interrupted by another coughing fit first. When he was done Tubbo looked even more anxious than before. "Probably not. It's just a cold."

It was definitely not a simple cold. Pneumonia, more likely.

"Oh good."

Techno agreed. Not dying would probably be good, even if he currently felt like death warmed over.

Philza took him to the pub, much to Technoblade's horror.

All his protests and insistence he'd be fine if he was just taken to his house were brushed off easily, especially when Phil took flight with Techno barely able to keep from falling off his back when dark spots took over his vision. If it weren't for Phil's supporting hands keeping him steady he's probably have fallen off.

Normally Techno didn't dislike flying with Phil – despite the other always making some quip about how little Techno weighed for his height. But this time the vertigo was horrible and made him want to puke. Maybe it was fortunate he had skipped breakfast this morning.

They landed on the wooden porch softly, Phil keeping Techno's arm around his shoulder as he put him down to make sure he wouldn't collapse. Techno wasn't about to admit he probably needed that, though he muttered a quick thanks under his breath, which was starting to get more wheezing by the minute. There wasn't an inch of his body that didn't ache.

There were a few beds in the backrooms of the pub, sometimes used for newcomers to temporarily reside. Techno found himself dumped into one, not really caring where Phil went when he left the room. Not when the sheets were so blessedly cool and comfortable. He could have probably fallen back asleep soon if Phil hadn't returned almost instantly.

"I checked with Sneeg, he said this should help a little." Phil sat down on the bed, holding up a cup with the nastiest-looking brown tea inside it Technoblade ever did see. "I'm sorry we don't have any real potions to give you, but he's closest to you in physiology, so I'm hoping this will be enough. We don't exactly have a lot of experience with human illness."

"Did you ask him if it was poisonous?" Techno asked, eyeing the steaming liquid.

"Don't be dramatic." Phil handed him the cup. Techno sighed and downed the herbal tea in one go, suppressing his gag reflex. Medicinal and earthy, it somehow tasted worse than it looked. He didn't think that was possible.

"Great, can I go home now?"

Phil shook his head as he got up again, taking the cup from him. "You're not going anywhere until your fever breaks. You think I flew you all the way up here for fun?"

"Possibly."

Rolling his eyes as he leaves the room, Phil once again came back only a moment later. This time he was holding a bowl of what Techno could only presume was water going by the cloth that was soaking in it. Phil gestured for him to lie down properly and this time Techno obeyed without complaint.

"I think it's best if you stay here for a while," he said while folding the cloth and putting it on Techno's forehead. The coldness of it did feel nice against his pounding headache. "The pub is the best place for us to take turns keeping an eye on you."

"I don't need you guys to keep an eye on me, though. I'm not a child."

"No, you're just a stubborn asshole with pneumonia." Phil drew back a bit, smile faltering. "And also the only human currently living in the commune. We don't have the needed supplies to treat you should this get worse, so I'd rather not take the risk."

And while he did a fair job hiding it, it was undeniably clear Phil was worried.

"Fine, I'll stay." Techno made an effort of showing how annoyed he was by huffing and pulling the blankets over himself. "But can you at least get me a book or something? Won't help much keeping me here if I'll be bored to death."

Phil laughed – light and teasing. Techno liked that a lot more than he did the worry.

"I'll see what I can do."

He spent a solid week in bed.

Much to Phil's relief, Techno's sickness did not get worse. But without proper medicine, it didn't improve as quickly as they would have liked either. He had to get better the old-fashioned way: waiting for his body to fight off the infection on its own.

Most of his time was spent sleeping. Whenever he woke up somebody else was at his bedside, to make sure he could eat and drink. Phil hadn't been kidding when he said they'd take turns. It was almost comforting to know there was always someone watching over him while he slept, though Techno didn't feel the need to say that out loud.

After that first week, he was recovered enough to at least limp out of his room and around the pub. He was too weak to attempt the ladder and any sudden moves were still likely to throw him into a coughing fit that could last several minutes. But he could sit at one of the tables and talk to Niki when she visited.

Or to the others, who all seemed to be coming by a lot more often than was usual.

Wilbur unveiled his plans and talked Techno's ear off about what he was working on. Fundy came all the way to the pub to try and sell him stolen trinkets. Ranboo was always coming around with some new book for him to read, asking him if he liked his previous recommendation.

(None of them visited as often as Tommy though, who always complained about having to be there while fluffing up his wings, yet always stuck around the longest even when Techno told him he'd be fine on his own.)

And with them around, Techno realized that despite being the only human, he had never felt less alone.

#technoblade #origin smp #mcyt #shara writes #human techno my beloved <3 #also sickfic mY BELOVED

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

Text

Stopping you - Michael Gray [Part 3]

Words: 3.7k+

Warnings: Cursing. Smoking. Drinking Alcohol. Slight mentions of smut.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

After a long day at work, all you can think about is how good alcohol sounds right about now.

The men outside of your door are already drunk and dancing around in the pub. Not that you cared, working with singing men and loud footsteps is something you’re grown used to.

You leave your things over your desk and grab your keys. As you walked out of your office, you were welcomed by the smell of tobacco and whiskey, something that must be in engraved in the Garrison walls by now.

“Y/N!” A drunken man screams with his arms in the air, big smile and with great enthusiasm in his face. “How are you, my love?”

“I’m doing good. What about you, dear?” You ask with not even half of his enthusiasm, but with a small smile.

“Oh, you know, same old. My wife hates me still, which is unfortunate” He says, and you chuckle at his indifference towards the situation.

“You’ll eventually get her love again, I’m sure of it” You tell him, in hopes that that it would be enough to keep his cheery-self dancing around and not crying against the walls.

“I sure will”

You walk away from the man as the music continues to control the rhythm in the room, and as you get close enough to the bar’s counter, Billy looks over at you.

“The usual or something stronger?” He asks and you smile at him.

“The usual”

The strong option is your perfect drink when you haven’t been your best. Maybe work is being a bigger pain the ass or, even, Tommy got himself a new rival. Works for both of them, the only difference between them is how many cups you down on each night.

As Billy puts down, in front of you, a glass cup with whiskey, you’re quick to send him a grin as a thank you.

You sip your black-tea-coloured drink and almost sigh in content as the flavour extends from the tip of your tongue to the back and how it leaves its burning trail down your throat.

“Never thought you were the whiskey type of woman” Someone says beside you and you put your drink down when recognizing the voice.

“Usually happens when you don’t really know someone”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek at your words and looks down at the dark brown counter, silent.

You don’t look at him. Your hands play with the cold cup, fingers moving and creating droplets of water, which naturally drip down into the old wood.

Your eyes, then, travel the whole room, from the singer in the small stage to the drunk men that happily singed along, ignoring that they’re completely off tune.

Michael, on the other hand, when noticing that you aren’t looking at him, looks straight at you. Admiring your shiny hair that moves as you move to stare at someone else. Your suit, which shows to have no creases whatsoever and hugged your figure in all the right places. Your hands now decorated with golden pieces of jewellery just like his mother would, sometimes, wear.

The one thing Michael couldn’t take a good look at was your face. The one he now knows that is decorated with light make-up, making your infinite and natural beauty stand out to anyone who would cross paths with you.

“Are you planning on telling me why you’re here or do you want to continue to stare at me in silence?” You ask when turning back to your drink, making Michael get a good sight at your side profile.

“I wanted a drink” He answers, and you sigh.

“Not here at the Garrison” You correct, “Even though I do believe that this place doesn’t meet your American influenced standards” You say, adding the last words purely just to annoy him, “I meant why you’re sitting next to me”

Michael stands quiet, as he’s quite taken aback as he didn’t expect such spiteful words come out of your mouth.

“No special reason” He says, and you scoff, “You’re just the only person I know in this pub” He adds, making you almost roll your eyes.

“That usually happens to the ones that don’t stay in touch, you know?” You say, now looking up at him, “These people have been regulars for some time. Friends with the Peaky Blinders, friendly people”

Michael’s eyes stay glued on yours as you look over at him. Your eyes are filled with arrogance and disinterest, but they still made him hold on to his breath as they met with his.

Your words, though, were hurtful, and they got a reaction from him.

“You know it wasn’t my choice to leave for America” He says, grabbing his drink, which had been put down by Billy a few seconds ago as you talked.

“No. But it was your choice to leave us”

Michael is silent once more.

Confusion filled the man’s mind as you said those words, they didn’t make sense to him, especially after you just agreed on it not being his choice to leave the country.

Until they did.

He had left, physically, months before he really left. He was still a part of your and his mom’s life after getting on that boat. And it all ended because he-

It doesn’t matter anymore, now, does it?. Michael thought.

The truth tends to hurt more than it should, so might as well not speak of it.

“I’m happy to see that you’ve changed” Michael says, ignoring what you had said, sipping his whiskey.

You stay silent and quickly look over at the band, which was starting a new song.

“You sound and look more mature” He continues, “It seems as if you grew stronger”

“Can’t say the same about you” You say in almost a whisper without looking at him and Michael lets your words register in his mind before thinking of an answer.

Your finger circles the rim of your cup as you try to ignore the man’s presence and Michael decides to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin his opportunity to talk to you even further.

You sip your whiskey and immediately hate that you can’t even enjoy it as much as you wanted. Your mind is too occupied with Michael to even concentrate in the flavour of the drink.

A hand touches your back, making you snap back to reality, and you turn slightly to see the owner of the hand (and whether or not you need to chop it off him). You relax once your eyes meet Finn’s.

“Well, look if it isn’t the one who has been avoiding me for a whole week” You say with a smile, making Finn smile back at you.

“I haven’t been avoiding you” He says before pulling you into a small and tight hug.

The smell of tobacco hits you as your body collides with Finn’s chest and you wrap your arms around him to hug him back.

Billy is quick to run over to you and serve a drink to the youngest Shelby brother and you smile at Finn’s appearance once pulling away.

“You look like a mess” You comment at him and he rolls his eyes.

“No surprise there, Tommy has been giving the weirdest of orders lately” He says before downing his whole drink in one go, cringing slightly at the burning sensation and at the sour taste.

Michael’s eyes stay on his cousin as you smile brightly at him and he studies the situation silently. He can’t help but think about how this is, surely, a friendship he did not expect to see when coming back home.

Finn, the one guy that liked to suck petrol off people’s cars for fun, is now friends with a girl, who liked to run through flower fields and ride horses for a living. Now that’s a shocker.

Michael clenches his jaw once his cousin looks at him and he looks down at his drink, trying to hear your conversation as a way to relax his mind and not overthink about the whole situation.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” You ask Finn, catching the younger boy’s attention again.

“Am I being recruited to lay in bed the whole day?” He asks with a teasing smirk.

“You can always name a better idea to pass time”

“I sure know my ways” He jokes, and you hit his shoulder while dramatically gasping and biting your smile in.

Michael has had enough the moment he heard Finn’s words. His heart pumps in his chest as he grabs his cup and downs his drink in a swig.

He just wants to get out of there.

He quickly throws money at the counter and turns away from it, finally making his way out of the old Pub.

Finn glares at Michael’s back as he opens the door abruptly and you smile at the drunken men trying to pull you in for a group dance.

Your best friend looks away from Michael, who now is making his way to his car, and looks down at your laughing state, twirling while holding an older man’s hand. Finn smiles at you and you continue to laugh with the man as he makes his own twirl while holding your hand.

(…)

Finn’s ways to have fun can vary on who he’s hanging out with.

When he’s with you, in your days off, it can start with lying in bed and talk about life, and end with riding some of Tommy’s horses through some fields - which surprisingly always ends up with having races between you two.

You win, most of the time, and Finn easily gets done with riding whenever you do.

One day you tried to bake with him in Polly’s kitchen, just to try and do new things. And let’s just say that in a space of 15 minutes, Finn was able to turn the soft batter into pure cement.

‘Never again’, you told him.

At night, after dinner, your plans are a whole different story.

Pubs are simply the only way you two seem to know how to have fun, and the only think that varies in those nights, are the drinks and their quantities. Literally.

“Stop it!” You say loudly while smiling at Finn, who threw another handful of dry leaves at you.

“Or what?” He teases.

“Mud will find its way into your pockets really quick” You say with a serious expression and Finn snaps his head to you, shaking his head, “Oh yes, in your newly bought suit”

“You’re no fun” He says while leaning his head back on the grass.

The two of you lay on the grass of the field in silence, staring at the white clouds that covered most of the sky.

The horses aren’t far from you two, eating the fresh green grass happily while minding their own business.

“How have you been lately?” Finn asks, breaking the silence. “About, you know, Michael coming back”

“Not that bad” You say in a whisper, closing your eyes as the sun peeks from the clouds, warming your exposed skin.

“Are you sure?”

You don’t answer him this time, making Finn move his head to the side and look up at you. He stares at your face, which already has its natural frown engraved into it, and expects a reaction. Which did not seem to appear.

It’s like you didn’t even hear him. But he knows you did.

“I haven’t met his fiancé yet” He continues, and you scoff, making him smirk.

“You aren’t missing much”

Finn’s smirk curves into a full-grown smile and he looks back at the sky, bright eyes burning at the brightness.

“What’s the worst thing about her?” He asks, actually curious about the blonde American he has heard so much of.

“Attitude” You answer quickly, without even a second thought.

“That bad, uh?”

You smile at his curiosity and open your eyes slightly, squinting at the light.

“No, Finn. She’s not your type” You say in a reprehensive tone, and he chuckles with you, punching your leg lightly. “But seriously, this time. She isn’t that special”

“Ooh” He says in a low voice and a teasing tone, “You hate her”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate’” You comment, “Just strongly dislike” You add while laughing in between words, making Finn shake his head in disbelief.

He sighs loudly and holds himself up on his arms before laying his head on your thighs.

“I wish I was on that family meeting” He says, making you grin and lay your hand on his head.

Your fingers play with his short hair while deep in thought, imagining Gina’s face and remembering how much she annoyed you the other day.

“You would’ve made it more entertaining, to be honest” You say and Finn dramatically gasps.

“I knew that you would eventually miss me in meetings. Just try to tell that to Tommy so I can finally be accepted back in”

You laugh loudly at him and he smiles at the sound of your laughter.

(…)

Michael pushes the Garrison’s doors open while walking in and that was enough to catch some people’s attention. His face is well known, even to the ones that are not too familiar of the Peaky Blinders, or even Birmingham as a whole.

His eyes travel through the people around the pub and they quickly land on you.

He immediately notices by your movements that you’re drunk out of your mind as you danced with older men and women at the loud live music and smiled up at them.

His eyes drift away from you and as he reaches the counter, he orders a drink to Billy, who noticed his presence once he came in.

As the man behind the counter starts to serve his drink, Michael looks over his shoulder to check and see if he hasn’t lost you in the crowd just yet.

He then took notice of the dress that you’re wearing.

Memories crashed into his mind like waves into rocks. It’s the same dress that you wore in Tommy and Grace’s wedding.

It’s black, which was unusual to your style at the time, but still flowy. It moves with you and with the wind, easily catching people’s attention when you danced around them.

The day of the wedding was definitely one of his favourite memories of you.

He remembers how the two of you sat next to each other during the religious ceremony that connected Grace and Thomas to each other.

And how you two silently imagined how that would be the two of you in some years.

The way you leaned your head on his shoulder and pulled his hand into your lap.

It was all engraved in his mind.

If he had the choice, he would forget all of the days that you two shared together. Before all that happened, those memories were what calmed Michael down and brought him back to the sweeter side of reality. But now, they only work as a torture mechanism for his brain.

He doesn’t want to remember the old times, especially when his fiancé is just a few streets away from this pub, sleeping, and completely unaware that he isn’t next to her in bed.

But his mind likes to play tricks.

The images of all the hugs and soft kisses from that day replayed on his head. Even what had happened after the ceremony, in one of the storage rooms.

Your soft gasps and your delicate touch replayed as if it was no longer a memory, but reality. The way his hands touched the soft skin of your hips and your thighs, while you moaned softly into his ear, trying to keep quiet.

It was all so vivid that it felt like it happened just the day before.

And those were only memories of one good day.

Michael has millions of memories of the two of you.

And, unfortunately, only few were bad.

As he stares into the ground, trying to shake away his thoughts, you notice him. A smile grew in your face immediately.

You down your drink and decide to walk over to him, stumbling over some things on your way to him. Some men around you laugh at how you almost lose your balance and fall to the ground a few times, but you ignore them.

“Look if it isn’t the American wannabe” You say loudly when you reach his side and Michael looks up from the floor at you.

“Already with the insults?” He asks and you shrug.

“It’s just a reflex by now” You comment making him nod and lift his eyebrows in annoyance. “Where’s your wife?”

“My fiancée” He corrects but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it, “is at the hotel”

You frown slightly.

“Sad. We could all have fun together”

Michael ignores your comment and you lean in closer to him.

“Did you ever love me?” You lean over to the counter and lay your head on your fist as you waited for an answer, in which you never got. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Your voice is a complete giveaway of your intoxication. That, and the small hiccups between words.

Michael doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at his drink.

“You always said you did” You say before looking down at the rings on your hands. “Must’ve been a lie”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek as he fights to stay quiet, but he decides not to.

“It wasn’t a lie”

“That’s what a liar would say” You exclaim proudly, and he rolls his eyes at your immaturity, mostly caused by the large amount of gin and whiskey you’ve consumed.

If you had to be honest, alcohol is obviously what is making you want to talk to Michael in the first place, even if it’s just to insult him. You wouldn’t make your sober feet move to go talk to him, and that was even obvious to Michael, who still saw this as improvement.

Out of frustration, Michael takes a cigarette out of its metal box and lights it in a quick movement. He inhales and his lungs fill with the familiar smoke, like any other day. But it feels different.

Maybe it’s because he’s not used to smoking in this particular pub after these 2 years, or maybe it’s just your presence next to his.

At least that’s he likes to believe.

The nicotine isn’t relaxing him as it usually did. So may God help him through the night.

You look over your shoulder at Michael and slightly turn over to stand in front of the man, between him and the counter. Your eyes analyse his face and your eyes meet for a slight second.

“You have an eyelash-” You say while extending your hand over Michael’s face, reaching for his face, swiping your thumb over the eyelash that has fallen onto his cheek.

Michael doesn’t flinch at your touch or even slightly move away; he lets you touch him. You blow the small hair out of your finger and your eyes drift over to his, once more.

“You didn’t change at all” You say with a slight frown on your face.

“That’s normal. Two years isn’t that long” He answers back.

You scoff at his words while fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Speak for yourself” You whisper, and Michael almost doesn’t hear it. “Anyways, you need to start bringing your wife out more times. I’m interested in knowing her better”

“She’s not my wife” He corrects you once more, “And that is not happening”

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Pretty obvious, if you ask me”

You ignore him and look around the bar, bored out of your mind.

“I still don’t know what you see in her” You say while confidently grabbing Michael’s drink from the counter and sipping it.

“Many things” He answers dryly.

“So many that you can’t even name one?” You tease and Michael looks away from you. “Come on, Miss America must have at least one good thing about her”

He shakes his head before looking back at you

“Why do you care so much?”

“Just curious” You say while shrugging, “She was a big surprise to all of us. It wouldn’t hurt to know a little more about her”

“We can talk whenever you’re sober”

“Ooh, you’re a big responsible man, now” You say with an annoyed tone, “Damn, you can be annoying”

“That insult is new” He teases further.

He is definitely the most infuriating person you’ve ever met. Maybe he has changed after all.

“You are probably the person I hate the most in the world, now that I think about it” You say, ignoring his words and drunkenly smiling at him.

You have to annoy him as much as you can, it’s only fair if the two of you suffer.

Michael clenches his jaw and you continue to smile at him. The smile is more than fake, and that can be seen from a mile away.

“Did I hit a nerve?” You ask him, “If so, I’m sure that you can always walk out of here to your wife’s arms, like the loyal husband that you are”

Oh, two can play at that game; Michael thought.

“You’re sounding a little obsessed” He says with a fake smile as well, not wanting to correct you again.

“Really?” You ask with a scoff, “Maybe we can start a competition on who’s more obsessed, then. Since, well, you know, it’s the second day you come in this pub and stare at me, while I’m quietly minding my own business”

Michael stays silent and you lean closer to him.

“Go back to your wife, Michael. I’m sure you’re more welcomed there, anyways” You say, “Oh, and isn’t she supposedly pregnant as well?”

“She isn’t”

“What a bummer”

You smile while leaning closer to Michael, who surprisingly hasn’t taken a step back yet, and your eyes move to stare down at his lips as a reflex. You stare back at his eyes to find them doing the same thing.

The alcohol pulls the two of you closer and your lips crash onto the corner of his lips.

It lasts 2 seconds and as you pull away slightly before Michael could make a scene, and to your surprise, he looks annoyed.

You pull back completely and down the rest of his drink, quickly walking away from the bar, over to the men that were already ready to dance again.

You smile proudly at you did and shout with the men in excitement as you restart the dance with them.

Tomorrow’s going to be fun.

- - - - - -

Taglist: @ohhersheybars @woodland-mist @onlythechicagoway @soleil-dor @finn-shelbys-bulldog @oh-theres-a-woman @peakyxtommy @ms-reader @beautycinders @lovemissyhoneybee @graceedwards @jadesbabylon @marvelismylifffe @a-dorky-book-keeper @peakascum @shanetoo @hufflemendes @cherrytop02 @http-cherries @burnitup

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #finn shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagin #finn cole #finn cole x reader #fanfiction

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blackcherrykiss · 3 years

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BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.10)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7][CH.8][CH.9] previous chapters [CH.11] next chapter (unavailable on tumblr but avaliable on wattpad!)

"You'll give me your blood in exchange for theirs."

You could feel his earnest breath against the left side of your neck when he spoke. The proximity was causing you to hold your breath tightly. "Sunghoon please..." You just barely breathed out, fearing anything you said would be the death of you.

"Afraid my love? I'm not going to hurt you unless you let me in." You felt Sunghoon's soft lower lip stroke up your neck until it met your ear, "I'll give you time to think." He pulled away to caress your face with a feathery touch as the sky grew darker and darker.

...

You rested the following day with no intentions of going to classes. You got your dormmates to tell the office about the severe headache you had; too weak to attend that day. To your surprise, one of the nurses at the school had knocked at your dorm to do a brief check-up and ensure you weren't lying.

"You must be Y/N! Sweetie, how are you feeling?" A slim young woman came in with a medium briefcase of supplies.

"It's nothing too serious right now, it's just a slight headache, I think you brought a bit much..." You held your pounding head while staring at the excessive equipment she had in hand.

"Oh, all of this? It's a standard to bring it just in case." The nurse said with a Southern Irish accent, "Now sit down, I'll take your temperature first."

You sat down on your own bed and watched as she took out a pink thermometer and put it under your arm. You yawned while waiting, getting a closer look at the woman. She had naturally fawn-blonde hair that flowed down in delicate curls. Healthy skin that was rosy at the cheekbones.

"Hun, your temperature is just slightly over normal. Is it just today you've been having headaches?" The nurse said while waving around the stick that read 38.1°C.

"I get them from time... Rarely though, I think I've been stressed lately that's all..."

"Perhaps you have low iron? Are you sure no other symptoms and potential causes?"

"Lack of sleep." You admitted, "And probably low iron... My mom has so I must too..."

"I see hun... Many girls call in sick and it's usually related to their menstrual cycles. But recently I find there is some sort of common cold going around. Yesterday this young boy fainted and when I took his temperature he had a seriously high fever." The nurse said while beginning to sterilize the thermometer with some rubbing alcohol.

"He did?!" You blurted out unintentionally, your voice making an embarrassing crack, "Sorry... He's just my friend, I was there when he fainted. Do you mind me asking how Jungwon is doing?"

"Not too well... He seems very sick but... Whenever I try phoning his parents regarding a checkup with a doctor or a record of his medical history, nobody ever picks up." The nurse looked upset and frustrated that she couldn't do much for him.

Little did the nurse know Jungwon didn't even have parents... 'Heeseung would be his guardian at best' you thought. "Oh, that's terrible..." You felt yourself tense up knowing the reason for Jungwon's illness.

"Well, if you have no other questions I guess I will be on my way. Your name was y/n right?" She said while scratching a couple of words on a small pad of paper.

"That's correct."

"y/n... That name sounds familiar... Perhaps you are friends with Kyungeun?" The nurse put her pen and paper down on your nightstand.

"You know Kyungeun?" You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Of course! I visit her often. She's mentioned your name from time to time." She gave a healthy smile before getting up to leave, "She loves you to bits!"

You were touched Kyungeun would mention that to the nurse, it made you feel a little better knowing that.

"I'll get going now then, hun!" The nurse grabbed her case and exited your dorm after you thanked her.

When you went back to your bed you noticed the nurse had left her pad of paper. Taking the paper to go and run after her, you squint to read what was actually written on it. The paper just had blue ink notes in some wavy font about your condition and personal information. When you lifted the notepad up, you noticed a paper fell from the stack. Bending down with just your back, you saw Kyungeun's medical information swirled on the front.

"Anemia?" You read aloud before a semi-aggressive knock was heard from behind your dorm door. You quickly stuffed the paper where it was originally attached, feeling guilty you saw what you should not have. "I was just about to chase you down!" You began speaking before the door was even completely open.

You saw the young nurse once again with a troubled face, "I'm so sorry, I'm so disorganized! Thanks, darling!" She looked relieved as you handed over the stuff she had left behind. You smiled to cover up the actual shock that shot through your veins after seeing Kyungeun's records.

Anaemia is a low blood condition and knowing Kyungeun had it still surprised you. Were you really trying to deny that Sunghoon drinks Kyungeun's blood?

...

You napped the rest of the day, catching up on the sleep you had missed over the past week. The throbbing in your head gladly helped you fall asleep in an instant, but your wishes of having a quiet sleep would not come true.

You found yourself in a fever dream, scenes flickering in your mind at the speed of light. You saw Jungwon's complexion glitter against a deep velvet as he drove his fangs deep into a prominent vein. The vein however on his own wrist; drinking his own blood. The amber-red liquid began streaming down his chin and into an empty wine glass in large opaque droplets. The imagery of the blood in a wine glass was one you had never thought you would see, especially in a dream. The blood was much thicker in consistency compared to alcohol and it made your stomach churn with absolute sickness as Sunoo picked up the glass to swish it around as the adults do with classic red wine. Sunoo then bit down on the heel of his palm, planting a deep bite mark. He began squeezing his hand tightly to release more blood into the glass. When the glass had filled midway, Sunoo chugged it down.

"Y/N?!" You felt Nana shake both of your shoulders, waking you back conscious. You twitched while sitting up from your bed, "You're sweating like crazy. I got scared seeing your distressed face..."

"Fever dream... It's whatever..." Surprisingly your headache hurt a lot less even after the vividly strange dream had seemingly interrupted your off day. The problem was now your stomach that felt awful over the constant blood being displayed in your head, "I think I'll be fine to go to school tomorrow after I sleep on it tonight, my headache has become a mild stomach"

"More rest? You probably just need to get up and out of your bed, it's too warm and stuffy plus you've barely moved the entire day." Nana nagged. To which you agreed, you were getting unbearably hot which might've been the trigger to the fever dream.

"Yeah, I'll go for a walk..." You stared down at your sheets while thinking about what the strange dream meant. Why did Sunoo drink Jungwon's blood? And can vampires drink each other's blood? You immediately thought of the book you had left in the woods the previous night, perhaps there were answers in it. You were just too horrified that day to pick up the book and take it with you. But it seemed it might be of use to you now.

"Have you eaten yet? Hyesun and Dahee are at the dining hall right now and I just came to check up on you."

"No, I haven't eaten the whole day... But I think I might vomit if I eat..." You fastened your eyes shut at the recollection of what you had seen, "Just go without me, I'll go for a walk in the meantime." You said with the means to go off into the forest and find that damned book.

...

You feel refreshed, with the clean autumn breeze gusting your hair back, and out of your face. It was around the time most people ate an early meal, so you weren't surprised to see few pairs of people in the courtyards. Students seemed to be taking it nice and slow under the calm weather, one on one conversations and cloud watching on the wood benches.

You strut along the same path you had gone down the other day, your mary jane shoes getting wet from a puddle on the way. The woods had looked a lot less intimidating during the early evening compared to after sunset. You just had to ensure you were taking the path Sunghoon had led you down and you'd find the book, right? It would be a quick and simple job.

But after taking the seemingly correct path, you found yourself getting more unfamiliar with where you walked. Regardless of where you ended up, the place was a lot more peaceful and pretty than your first impression of it. You skipped along, turning your journey into a leisurely hike now. The sun heavily coated one particular part of the forest, creating a mystic olive glow onto the dried grass. The section of forest, in particular, had fewer trees with a giant rock in the centre of it. As you approached the area, you noticed someone far in the distance laying on the rock, basking in the sunlight with skin so white it looked teal under the reflection of the trees. The young boy didn't have your school's uniform but instead, a rust coloured flannel and some tatteredly torn jeans with cuts all over them. You were willing to just leave the delinquent alone, turn back and give up. That is until you noticed the boy reading.

As you came into a four-metre radius to get a better look at if the book he possessed was the one you were searching for, the boy sat up to gaze dead on at you. You probably looked worse than a deer in the headlights, surprised at his alertness. "Who are you?" The ash haired boy asked before you could.

"I'm looking for a book I dropped around here the other day." You bore your eyes at his hands.

"This wouldn't be it, would it?" The young stranger stood up to scoop the book off the rock so you could see it clearly. He was a lot taller than how he appeared while lying on his back.

"I'm pretty sure it is my book... May I have it back?" You asked politely after noticing the colour of the backing was identical to the one you picked up from the library.

"What's it to you?" He raised a brow while swirling his tongue around the inside of his cheek.

"It might answer some questions I have..." You bit your tongue as to whether or not the boy in front of you was among the vampire pack. It seemed his hesitation to give the book back was telling you undermining something.

"Ahh, so it's you who they talk about?" He nodded to himself, "Heard you were some clever girl who would eventually figure out our little secret." He dozed off into the distance at some withering pine trees. It was clear he was associated with the bunch by now, no surprises there.

"Sunghoon t-told me the other day you were all vampires... He was the one who took the book in the first place and used it to bait me here."

"Then why did you leave the book?"

"Got too shocked and sick, just wanted to escape the place after he told me you were all vampires. Thought I was going to die." You began to sweat. Recalling the situation made you realize you were in the same position once again; alone with a vampire in the woods far away from people.

"Alright? So you have questions about us that you think this silly book will answer? Why ask a book when you could ask the vampire right in front of you." He faced his palms up on either side of him.

You stood astonished by his response. Instead of forcibly taking your blood he was offering some useful information to you, "You mean you're not going to kill me?"

"I considered it... Until I found out who you were." He commented with a hint of disappointment. "Luckily you've caught me at the right time, so ask away."

"Found out who I was? What do you mean?"

"Who knows what kind of shit I'll hear from the guys if they found out I got a lick of your blood." He shut down your further questions about the matter, "Now ask the questions."

Looking around as if you were about to tell a secret, you dived right into the ideas you were given from your dreams, "Can vampires drink their own blood?" You gulped remembering Jungwon drawing blood from himself.

"They can... It helps with blood cravings but it tastes very bitter. Next." He said, treating the conversation as some speed round questionnaire.

"Okay...? Can vampires drink each other's blood?" The last scene of your dream coming to mind of Sunoo taking a swig of the wine glass filled with his blood mixed with Jungwon's.

"Who have you seen doing that? Sunoo? Jaeyun?"

"No one, it was just a dream!? Sunoo and Jaeyun actually do that?" It seemed weird hearing Sunoo's name being directly suggested. It was as if your dream was a potential reflection of reality. How could that be?

"Drinking other vampires blood tastes better than drinking your own blood but it's not often we do that." The boy tapped his head to think.

"So then what occasion would you drink each other's blood?"

"Usually when we can't get ahold of human blood. Survival purposes in short. Put it this way, drinking your own blood won't make you stronger because you're not getting any new nutrients. Drinking other vampire's blood will fulfil that it's just not as vital as half-humans or better yet, full human blood."

"Half-humans?! They exist?"

"Yeah, their blood tastes a lot better than full vampire blood but it's definitely not better than full human blood. Pretty sure Sunghoon feeds off some half-blooded girl, not that I can remember her name."

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