#also sorry for taking so long to answer this I fell asleep after answering cookies X'O (it was late | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strangelysamantha · 3 years ago

Text

crumbled cookies ☆

jj maybank x plus!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: abuse/hitting, hate speech, fat shaming, bullying, insecurities, swearing, fighting, jj’s dad, luke (yikes!) mad jj, mention of pills.

words: 3,365.

summary: you decide it would be a good surprise to stop by jjs house quickly to drop off some of your homemade cookies, since you believe he isn’t feeling the best. then, unexpectedly jj's dad comes home with an unwelcoming embrace, which ruins the surprise.

request? nope, but requests are open :)

a/n: i randomly thought about this, i obviously don’t believe that us plus size baddies should ever be insecure, but i thought it would be a nice little angst imagine with fluff at the end! if you could, please comment and like if you enjoyed it, thank you! after i write a few requests i will proofread my stories :)

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

jj hadn’t answered any of your texts, usually this would worry you, but you understood that sometimes he just needed some space to be alone. you surprisingly were used to this because he always disappeared, and if he genuinely needed you, he knew where to find you. it also wasn’t bothering you because he had only been MIA for a few hours.

you, assuming that jj was just overwhelmed, decided to stay home and bake homemade cookies. jj always complimented your cookies, he loved taste testing them, and more importantly, he loved how you put so much effort into making them perfect, even if you were only making the cookies for him. jj wouldn’t admit it, but he definitely didn’t see you as just a friend. he didn’t know how he viewed you. he was too confused for his own good with his emotions. all he did know was that he depended on you, and that he never wanted to lose you. it would ruin him, especially if he had done something to intentionally lose and hurt you.

you preheated the oven, excited to use a new cookie flavor for jj. you danced lightly to the music playing in the background of your kitchen, softly humming along as you gathered the dry ingredients, mixing them together. it was a fun little game you guys played, where he’d try and guess what extra ingredients you added that affected the cookie's flavor. he almost always got it wrong, but he was so cute sitting there always trying to guess it right, when he didn’t even know that much about cooking anyway.

unbeknownst to you, you were completely unaware of his feelings, despite the same feelings bubbling in your heart too. jj was your best buddy, and obviously you guys had flirtatious banter but it was nothing too serious. it didn’t help that every girl jj had a one night stand with, was the complete opposite of you. how could he like you, when every girl he fucks was not only skinny, but also rich, and mysterious?

pope wasn’t on your side either. he would always express how nauseated he felt when jj would jokingly flirt with you, and openly play with your feelings. he was quite vocal in scolding you when you would tell him that jj blew you off, or jj had pissed you off. deep down you did agree with pope, he wasn’t wrong.

a beep was heard from the oven as it was fully preheated. you had fully completed the cookie dough, now adding the most important ingredients. you decided to be nicer, and chose an easier flavor for jj to guess. you did this just in case something was seriously wrong he could at least be lifted up for guessing it right. m&ms and hershey’s kisses would be mixed together, creating a chocolate m&m hershey cookie, with added caramel on top. you quickly evenly separate the dough, before placing it in the oven waiting for it to rise.

the timer in the kitchen went off as you pulled the cookies out of the oven, careful to not burn yourself. you stick a knife into the cookie to ensure it was fully cooked before smiling contently to yourself. you let them cool off as you got dressed and prepared to go to jjs house.

you added caramel before sliding four cookies into a ziplock baggie. the cute baggy had a drawn on heart and a nice message for him. you didn’t expect to stay long, and you honestly didn’t even know if he would be home.

when you arrived to jjs house it looked vacant and abandoned. the nerves finally catching up to you as you realize he hasn’t talked to you all day. you knock on the front door, waiting for a response but you are left standing there waiting. you frown before hesitatingly walking down the steps. you look up when you hear a car approach, and a glimmer of hope flashes your mind as you thought it was jj, but instead it was his dad.

your heart was beating fast, and you didn’t know what to do. you waited to see if luke would talk but he just looked at you confused, and obviously annoyed. you shook your head quickly, “i’m so sorry, i was just going to drop these off for jj, but he’s not here so i’ll be on my way.” you smile softly, and start to walk away but his strong arms grab yours. you’re startled since his reaching for your elbow was quite unexpected.

“well you are already here. might as well get it over with.” his voice was unrecognizable as his emotions weren’t clear. you nod shyly. “no really i don’t want to inconvenience you, i can come at another time.” he shakes his head before walking to his door, opening it as the door loosely opens entirely, hitting against the wall to its side. you walk behind him being extra cautious in case he tries to grab you again.

you walk straight to the kitchen to set the bag of cookies on the counter, which was no use since right when you placed the bag, luke had scooped it into his hand reading the note. “oh, so you are the one dating my son?” your face twists in confusion. “no, no. jj and i are just friends.” you laugh awkwardly, swaying from feet to feet. the floors creak beneath you causing you to stop shaking back and forth. “okay good.” his eyes look up and down your figure as his mouth forms into a line. “i wouldn’t want him dating someone like… you.” his words hurt, but you didn’t want to break down in front of him.

you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare so you hurried to put an end to the conversation. “uhm. okay, welll thank you for letting me drop them off, i appreciate it mr. maybank.” you nod softly before he states, “no.” you turn over to him, “no?” you repeat as more of a question. your patience wears thin as you notice the cookies are still in his hand, and he is carefully undoing the ziplock that concealed the cookies.

he pulled a cookie out, before admiring it closely. “chocolate chip m&m caramel cookie. very yummy, very good choice.” you avoid eye contact, trying to focus on anything else displayed in the room. “and it’s still warm.” he stares at you as he takes a bite of the cookie, its crumbs slowly falling from where he sunk his teeth in. “it’s quite good.” you smile softly, “thank you… but-.” he cuts you off completely. “of course you, of all people, would be bringing him cookies. i’m not surprised, i can see you are trying to fatten my son.” his words stung you because this wasn’t what you were expecting. his father seemed intoxicated, and before you could leave it seemed like he still had stuff to say to you.

“yes the cookies are good, but they don’t excuse you for lying to my face. you are just like my ex wife… lying, scheming, going behind my back, but still creating delicious snacks.” you stumble back a little, as shock sets over you. “how did i lie?” you ask, quite confused as you hadn’t even talked to him that much. “i know you’re dating jj! i see his hickies i see that when he leaves this house it’s always to meet with your fat ass.” his words hold no meaning, he was just a lousy drunk taking his anger out on the closest thing to him. you stayed silent, when he suddenly shook his head before grabbing the rest of the cookies and throwing them on the floor, jumping on the bag, completely squishing them.

the once yummy cookies, now downgraded into a small pitiful pile that was brutally smeared against the kitchen's tile. your heart speeds up as his eyes are focused on yours, as if trying to read your emotions. “i’m sorry, but i’m not sure what i did to deserve you ruining my cookies?” your tone comes out sassier than intended which definitely didn’t help your case.

“pick it up.” he threw paper towels towards you, as he waited patiently for you to clean up his mess. you silently obeyed scooping your mutated bakery treat up. you got most of it cleaned, but you ran out of napkins. you bite your lip trying to think of a quick solution to finish picking it up so you could possibly leave, but it’s too late because he’s already grabbing your arm forcing you up. tears stream down your face, while you contemplate your choices.

before you could even register what had just happened, his hand had collided with your cheek, as he screams hurtful comments. “you are good for nothing. i honestly hope that jj didn’t choose you, because if he did, that would make him an embarrassment to this family.” he pushes you to the floor, and you quickly try to stand up so you can leave. you hurry to the door, but he catches you before you could get in your car and drive away.

“you can't tell anyone about this. i swear if you tell anyone...” his tone is laced with venom and your face scrunches up in confusion. “dont act stupid! god this is why people treat you the way they do.” you look at him one last time before he sends a fast fist to your face, that hits the side of your nose, and your eye. your face begins to pulse as the blood rushes to the quick forming bruise. you couldn't think straight as everything had happened so fast. all you wanted to do was drop off cookies, but somehow you were now being punished just because you resembled this man's wife. your breath is shaky as your tears are starting to slow down, but they are still evident on your cheeks.

jj’s dad stumbled backwards as if he had finally realized what he had done, before he eventually collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. as he landed on the couch, multiple loose pills fell from his pockets ensuring you that he wasn't mentally in the right place, and he was very obviously intoxicated.

you avoided jj at all costs, which was actually easy since he hadn't even contacted you. you were dreading his routine appearance that was bound to happen soon. you knew it was inevitable, he hasn't missed a nightly check in once, and you had been doing it for months. when you first met the pogues you were slightly scared since you were new in town and you didn't have any friends. so, jj took you under his wing. he quickly became protective over you, which is why he created this elaborate plan to sneak into your bedroom before bed every night. whether it was to just chat, talk about your day, or even just cuddle. you could always expect him at your window at around the same time every night.

usually you would confide in jj, ask for his advice. granted his advice isn't the greatest but it does help that he listens to your problems. not tonight. that wasn't the case. if anything, you wholeheartedly hoped that he would forget, or he would be too busy. he hadn't seen you since before your whole encounter with his father. you wondered if his father had told jj about what he did, and if he did, how did jj react?

you glance at the clock noticing that in the next ten minutes jj would be climbing his way into your window. your body was shaking with nerves as you glanced in the mirror. your black eye was a dead give away that something had happened. could you even tell him the truth? what if you lied, and then he called you out on it saying he already knew about it because his father told him. you contemplated every outcome of the future event that you weren't even ready when he slightly tapped your window. you quickly pulled on sunglasses that easily blocked your eye.

you smile widely, sliding your window up as he gracefully lands on your floor without making a noise, a talent he had perfected. “hey princess!” he has a huge grin on his face, his goofy smile is reason enough as to why you can't break the news to him about what his father did. “hi!” jj pulls you into a hug and you gladly take it. you wrap your arms tightly around his abdomen, as his arms are rubbing your hips. the hug ends and he slowly pulls away, his hands lingering on your hips before he grabs your hand to move to the bed. “do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” jj asked. you waited, contemplating your choices. “either way is fine, you can choose.” you smile as he immediately gets into the little spoon position.

“hey i forgot to ask you why you are wearing those stupid glasses inside.” he laughs lightly as he reaches for them and you completely jump off the bed, scared he actually grabbed them in time. luckily, you were fast enough and the glasses were still settled on your face. “i have a horrible headache, that's all.” you nodded as his face slowly fell, he stood up, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. he glanced up at you. “we can turn the lights off so it isn't as bright in your room.” you shook your head at his compromise. “princess, i need to see your pretty face before i can declare that you are okay.” you hesitated, trying to piece together a quick story that you could tell him to explain how you wounded up with a gruesome bruise. he wasn't going to leave unless he knew you were okay.

he watched you intently, trying to see what you were hiding. “before i show you please promise me you won't freak out.” you reach for his hands and he grabs them in return, slowly nodding. “no, that's not going to count. please tell me that you won't be angry at me.” his heart swiveled up inside his chest as he heard that you thought he would be mad at you. “i promise that whatever you are about to tell me won't make me upset, and that i could never stay mad at you.” you nodded to his words. “okay so you know what you just said?” he tilted his head confused, “yeah?” you breathe in, trying to calm your nerves. “remember that.”

you hesitantly reach your arm up to expose your once hidden eyes. at first it doesn't register so he stares at you blankly. but the moment he saw it, he was already standing up, and freaking out. “hey you said you wouldn't be mad!” he ran fingers through his blonde hair, his eyes wide. “what the fuck…? i said i wouldn't be mad if YOU did something, i never said anything about not getting mad when it involves someone else!” he looks back at you and immediately investigates your eye. his jaw clenched as he looked above you, his hand gripping your chin. “who the fuck did this to you?” you stayed quiet, until he looked down at you waiting for an answer.

silence fills the room leaving it eerily silent. “i can't tell you jj,” he laughs, shaking his head, “that's a funny joke, now tell me what happened and who the fuck hit you?” you looked away. “jj there's nothing you can do.” he followed along with your shenanigans. “and why is that?” you couldn't look at him so you looked at the floor. your silence was only making him more worried. “who was it actually? who are you protecting!?” he was getting frustrated. “fine. i'll tell you, only because i know you'll find out sooner or later.” he pulled you onto his lap, one hand holding your thigh, while the other grabbed your curvy hip. you took a deep breath before continuing. “okay. earlier today i baked you cookies and i stopped by your house so i could drop them off. but your dad was there, and i was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. it was my fault. okay?”

he shook his head, his grip on your thigh tightening. “you're telling me that my father gave you a black eye?” his tone was shockingly low as he absorbed every word you said. “yes. and he stomped on the cookies i made you.” his chest started heaving. “i fucking hate him! everything in my life he has to ruin. you, you mean so fucking much to me, and he’s over here throwing punches at you!” you stayed quiet. “jj?” he looked down at you, trying not to get too worked up because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you, “yes princess?” you hesitated with what you were going to say. you leaned your head to rest onto his shoulder.

“i- okay, i really appreciate you, but i can't have you getting hurt because of me. you're not my boyfriend, and you don't have to protect me anymore. i know you feel obligated with that pact we made when i first moved here, but you don't have to inconvenience yourself by coming over here every night, or by fighting people who harass me, or anything. jj, i feel so bad that you are roped into this position because i never intended for this to happen.” he stays silent, “no way am i leaving you. princess, please throw that thought away right now. i’m here for you always. and i am going to continue to protect you because even if i'm not your boyfriend, that doesn't mean i don't want you safe.”

you are so stunned by his response that your breath gets caught in your throat. “what do you mean?” he smiles looking down, his hands finding themselves comfortable around your hips. “what i'm saying is, that i do want to be your boyfriend. i want people to know how much you mean to me, and i want the whole world to be jealous that i have you, and they can't have you. i want to be the one who protects you. so, if you'd want me too, i'd love to be your boyfriend, if not that is completely okay.” you stared at him, “jj, you'll never know how long i've wanted to do this.” he looks at you confused before your lips connect to his. you run your hand through his hair, while the other hand is sitting on his jaw. his hands hungrily grasp your hips as he pulls you closer to enhance the kiss. you both pull away, smiling.

you asked jj to spend the night with you. he agreed, which resulted in him laying on his back as your head lay still on his chest. one of his hands was always touching you, so he could ensure you weren't going to go anywhere. as you slowly fell asleep beside him, he started to think about what his father had done. with anger clouding his better judgement, he stealthily slipped out your grasp, and climbed out your window, set to fulfil the goal in his head.

eek i hope this was good <333. perhaps a part two...???

#jj maybank #plus size reader #jj maybank x plus!reader #jj maybank x reader #maybank #jj #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader angst #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks fanfic #fiction #writing #jj maybank plus size reader #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

895 notes · View notes

justice4canyonmoon · 4 years ago

Text

An Evening Off

Summary: Both Y/n and Harry have a rare night off. Y/n has relaxing plans for how they should spend it.

Notes: Howdy! This is probably the last fic I’m going to post for the next two weeks; I have finals for college next week, and I have a fuck ton of work this week because professors love to give students everything at once 🙃 Anyway, I came up with the very fluffy concept because I crave emotional intimacy, so I hope you like it!!!!

Warnings: cursing ig. otherwise just a lot of fluff and taking a bath together 🥰

WC: 1.9k

Y/n was feeling lonely.

Her boring ass office job didn’t produce too many friends for her. While the people she worked with weren’t the absolute worst, they were just, well, bland. Their lives were cookie-cutter. The closest thing any of them had experienced to a true adventure was a trip to IKEA. Her two best friends, Maria and José, were across the country, since she had moved from one coast to another to live with her boyfriend. Sure, she could FaceTime them, but it just wasn’t the same. And after the call, she knew she’d just be more lonely than before.

Harry wasn’t an option either. He was working, far too hard for her liking. She understood, of course; it was album crunch time. He had to make all of the last minute decisions: finalizing the tracklist, photoshoots, and touch-ups on the chosen tracks in the studio. But she missed him. The only times she saw him anymore was right before bed, when he would stumble into the room sleepily and kiss her forehead before going right to sleep. So yeah, she was a bit lonely. And being alone on her day off wasn’t exactly the plans she wanted to have.

Luckily, the universe decided to answer her pleas. At around 1:00, after she had finished up a late shower, her phone buzzed with a text from her beloved.

H: Hi, baby! The only thing we have left on the agenda today is touching up a couple of the album tracks, so I should be home a bit earlier :D If you’d like, I can pick up some dinner on the way home.

She couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across her face. For the first time in ages, the two of them could finally have some time together! Maybe she could do something nice for him! He had been working so hard lately, he deserved it. And honestly, she did, too. An idea popped into her head, and she threw open the bathroom closet, taking a look through her bath supplies. She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out a citrus bath bomb, knowing that Harry enjoyed the calming scent of orange and lemon. A nice bath would not only help Harry destress, but it would also be the perfect cure to the loneliness that was settling in her heart. She quickly texted Harry a reply as she set the bath bomb aside.

Y/n: Sorry about the wait, babe, was just taking a shower. Forgot to this morning lol

He answered pretty much right away, making her smile.

H: It’s okay, baby! No need for apologies :)

Y/n: Okay! I’m excited to actually get to spend some time with you! I could really go for curry, if you’re up for Indian takeout.

H: Curry sounds good to me! I’ll probably be home between 6 or 7! I have to go now, but I can’t wait to see you :) I love you so much!!!!

Y/n: Can’t wait to see you, either, Har!!! I love you, too 💕💕

“Baby, ‘m home!”

Y/n looked at the clock. It was 7:30, a bit later than what Harry had said through text, but still much earlier than usual. She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the front door, tackling Harry in a hug. He laughed loudly and wound his free arm around her waist, not fully able to hug her back because of the takeout bag in his arms.

“Let me put the food down so I can give y’ a proper hug.”

She let go with a small pout on her face, which Harry promptly kissed off while setting the bag down. He then wrapped her in a tight, two-armed embrace. She melted at the contact, resting her head on his chest and hugging him back just as tightly. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then rested his head on top of hers.

“Miss you, Har,” she said, her speech slightly muffled from talking into his t-shirt.

She could feel him frown against her hair, “I miss y’ too, Y/n. The album should be done by the end of the month, and then ‘m all yours until tour starts.”

“Good. I was gonna break into the studio and steal you back myself if you weren’t done soon.”

He chuckled, “I don’ think Jeff would like that very much.”

“Fuck Jeff! I need you back here,” she scoffed.

“I certainly hope y’ don’ want t’ fuck Jeff.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned cheekily, “But yet y’ still here.”

“Lord only knows why,” Y/n grumbled, though there was a smile on her face.

They pulled away reluctantly, both realizing how hungry they were. The two chowed down on chicken curry and naan while chatting about their day. Y/n spent most of her day off watching The Great British Bake-Off and snuggling with Daiquiri, their black lab. Harry had been putting the finishing touches on three of the album songs (“I can’ wait to play them f’ y’, baby”), and ranted about the traffic coming home (“I would’ve gotten home 45 minutes earlier, but the freeway was ridiculously clogged up!”). It was domestic in a way that Y/n never thought she would have, and she loved every second of it.

When everything from dinner was cleaned up, Y/n figured now was as good a time as any to reveal her plans for the rest of their evening.

“Hey, Har,” she paused, then continued when she heard his hum of acknowledgment, “would you want to take a bath with me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Is this a ploy t’ get me naked?”

“No,” Y/n said bashfully, “I just thought it would be nice to take a bath together. I found a citrus bath bomb at the back of the closet, and I thought it would be relaxing for us.”

Harry’s eyes softened and he smiled gently at her, “That sounds perfect, love. Y’ too sweet.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, hand in hand. Y/n plucked the bath bomb from the closet and laid it in the tub, turning on the warm water. The water became a pastel shade of yellow, reflecting the lemony scent of the bath bomb. As she was checking the temperature, a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, and a kiss was pressed to her cheek. The heat radiating off of his body led her to believe that Harry had already rid himself of his clothes. When she turned around, her suspicions were confirmed.

“You work fast,” she commented, making a humming sound when the temperature was to her satisfaction.

“A bit,” he confirmed, leaning over to turn off the nozzle “just wanna take a bath with y’, love. Speaking of, let’s get those pesky clothes off of y’, shall we?”

Y/n nodded and Harry reached forward, almost reverently lifting her (his) sweatshirt over her head. She shimmied out of her leggings and removed her undergarments. She stepped into the bath first, gesturing for him to follow. He obeyed, and sat between her legs, resting his head on her shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while, basking in each other’s company. Y/n couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this at peace. But she also knew that Harry had forgotten to shower that morning since he was nearly late to the studio, so she reached over and grabbed some soap and a washcloth. She looked down at him and giggled softly when she realized he was almost asleep

“Wake up, baby,” she crooned, “let me wash you.”

“‘M awake,” he muttered, “promise.”

“Sure you are, that’s why your eyes are closed,” Y/n teased.

He only hummed in response, making her giggle again. She kissed his forehead and began washing him gently. The soft circles she was rubbing into his skin with the washcloth were soothing, and a sleepy smile made its way onto his face.

“‘Y always take such good care of me. Dunno how I got s’ lucky.”

Y/n felt her face grow warm as she reached for the shampoo, “I think I’m the lucky one. You always take care of me, too.”

She began rubbing the shampoo into his silky locks. Breathy gasps fell from his lips as she tugged lightly as his hair, working the shampoo into his curls.

“Feels s’ good,” he murmured.

“Glad you’re feeling good, Har,” Y/n replied in a hushed tone.

She rinsed his hair and repeated the process with the conditioner. By the time she had finished, Harry had fully fallen asleep on her shoulder. She cooed softly at how adorable he looked. He was like an angel; his long lashes were speckled with little water drops, his wet hair stuck to his forehead in an oddly endearing way, and a small smile was spread across his lips. He looked so relaxed in a way that Y/n hadn’t seen in a while. The bath helped her feel more at ease too; the monotonous motions of washing Harry made the stress from her job melt away, and the loneliness that had plagued her earlier in the day was washed away by the warm water. But she knew she had to wake Harry. She wasn’t quite strong enough to carry all six feet of him back to their bedroom.

Y/n gently jostled his shoulder and whispered, “Harry. Need you to wake up, baby.”

He groaned softly, making her giggle softly once more. His eyes slowly blinked open to reveal his jade irises, and he stumbled his way out of the tub, making her laugh a little harder as she followed. Y/n got out two towels and dried them both off, knowing that Harry was much too tired to do it on his own. She took his hand and walked toward their bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Y/n guided Harry to sit on the bed while she picked out sweats for both of them to wear to sleep (she knew that Harry had a particular fondness for when she wore his clothes to bed, so she got out his clothes for both of them). Harry pliantly moved his limbs as she clothed him, and watched her with moony eyes as she pulled on her own sleepwear.

“Look s’ pretty in m’ clothes, love,” he complimented, relishing in the shy smile that appeared on her face.

“Thank you, Har. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” she replied.

Y/n turned off the light and joined Harry on the bed. He was already lying on his side, so she wound her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Usually, he was the big spoon, but with the whole mood they had set all night, it just felt right for her to be the one cuddling him. Y/n barely heard Harry mumble a “g’night. Love you,” before his breathing evened out. She smiled and closed her eyes, reflecting on the day. Just spending one evening with her boyfriend made her feel right as rain, and the loneliness that had once threatened to overtake her was totally gone. Though she had been taking care of him that night, he was also taking care of her. And sure, they were both going back to work tomorrow, but in two weeks, Harry would be done with the album and would be all hers. When sleep finally overtook her, all she had were the most pleasant of dreams.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine

278 notes · View notes

ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

Text

Good Night Rituals - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You have a special little way to tuck your children in, to tell them “Goodnight” and send them off to have sweet dreams, and they absolutely love it. It makes, however, your Bruce a little jealous, at times...

When I was a kid, my mom used to sing to my brother and I a song every night, after our bed time story, and then she’d tell us she loved her, we’d in turn be like “I love you from here to the Moon !” and it’d go for a good half an hour of arguing over who loved the other one most...It inspired this mini-fic. Something very short, again to make you wait for longer more elaborate stuffs. Sorry i’m being slow, a lot of things (good things) is happening and I have very little time. I hope you will like this little thing :) :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

Dick

Dick is the one that invented this little “night ritual”.

He told you this was the perfect name for it, because it sounded like you were witches up to no good, and he “loved that for you two”.

Of course, it was fairly obvious he’d be the instigator of it all, as he was the oldest child. Your first little kiddo. Oh, but you helped too.

The good ol’ days, during which you had absolutely NO idea how to raise a child. When you and Bruce, frankly, hadn’t been adults for THAT long, considering.

And yet, and you were sure it was entirely thanks to little Dickie, everything came to you naturally. Everything felt right. Even if sometimes, you were a little clumsy.

Both you and Bruce tried so hard though. To make Dick feel home. And like you were his parents. You never tried to replace his mom and dad. But in Dick’s own words, you just slowly became his chance at having parents again.

Becoming Dick’s mom, and Dick’s dad, didn’t mean he forgot the ones he lost. It just meant he loved you as much as he loved them. And though the loss would forever hurt, he did know both John and Mary Grayson would’ve want him to be happy.

And at Wayne Manor ? With you and Bruce ? He became happy. There was a few rough and dark first days, but things slowly build up.

You became a family. You were his parents, now. And he knew, that his mom and dad wouldn’t be mad at him if he “moved on”, and allowed himself to love again.

Bruce often said that he adopted Dick because he didn’t want the boy to become him. And in that simple fact, in that simple way little Dick Grayson understood he still had a chance at being happy, at having a family...He was already extremely different from his “new” dad.

At least, from when he was at his age.

Mission accomplished.

In any case, this parent thing that was thrown your way, became one of the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life.

And again, although there were some clumsy moments, and not everything was always great (Dick had some mighty fit of rage at times, Bruce could be a jerk, and hell sometimes you needed to get away from them as well because you could be such a dick...Everyone has their moments where they’re not on their best behavior, it’s called life), you were a mom, now.

And being a mom, in your mind, meant tucking your kid in when it was time for bedtime.

Only, it was easier said than done.

Dick was a difficult child to put in bed. He’d always find ways to not sleep, and make you stay longer with him. Eventually, you made a “deal”.

And that’s how the “night ritual” was born.

You see, before this little ritual. This “deal” as you called it at first, before Dick found the name. It took you hours, to put him to bed.

Bruce was often out in the city early (although he always made sure to be here for a good night kiss and a “love you, champ. See you tomorrow, sleep well”) and Alfred would monitor the computer, at those times.

Later, when Dick grew up, you’d often be behind that monitor. But if a kid had to be put to bed ? You gladly took it upon yourself to do it.

For you, especially in those early motherhood days, it was important to be there for your child. For him to feel like he wasn’t an afterthought, and that “the butler” (although everyone knew Alfred was more than that) wasn’t here to take him off of your hands.

So bedtime, was your task. The task you gave yourself.

And oh boy, with Dick ? It quickly turned into a hassle.

“I’m thirsty...Wait, I’m afraid to stay alone in the room, piggyback ride to the kitchen ?”

“I can’t sleep, it’s a full Moon.”

“Hey, I didn’t clean up my room today ! We can’t leave all my toys laying around like that, can we ?”

It was always “one last story” or “I have to pee” or “I forgot to brush my teeth !”.

And at the time, you just didn’t have the heart to scold him and tell him it was enough, that it was time for bed. Oh well, who were you kidding. Even now, you didn’t scold your kids if they took their sweet time to get to bed.

You just didn’t quite understood the point in getting mad at them just because they didn’t go to bed right away. Dick eventually fell asleep, and not even that late. And if he was stalling for too long, he would only get mad at himself the next day because he’d be exhausted, and then that night he’d go to bed earlier.

So no. You didn’t get mad. It sounded ridiculous, to yell at kids for this. However, you were a mom now. And you knew your kid couldn’t just do whatever he wanted, even if he was as sweet as Dick.

Dick was nice almost all the time. He listened, did his chores, worked in school...So what if you gave him a little freedom sometimes ?

Yes. Sometimes. It was fine sometimes.

But not all the time, like it had become. And not for bedtime. Seeing your son, in the morning, with big bags under his eyes, made you think of your husband, and oh you didn’t want this little 8 years old to be as tired as your Broosh could be.

Of course, Dick was in bed WAY BEFORE Bruce came to bed. But for a small child like him, falling asleep at 10 or 11 pm was already too late.

And so, one day you had enough. And you decided to make a deal with him. There had to be things required for him to go to bed (like a story, for example), but when you said : “it’s time for bed now”, he HAD to listen. The threat was that you’d just kiss him goodnight and leave.

At first, Dick didn’t believe you. You couldn’t possibly have the heart to not tell him a story, and leave him alone so soon ! But you had to give him a lesson.

And so, came the first unpleasant act you did as a parent. Because being nice and lenient was one thing, but you still were his mom. Not his friend. And there had to be certain rules, especially for such a young child.

Rules, that he had to understand, or it was meaningless. Now, of course, you weren’t as harsh as your husband (you’d get mad at him enough, when he trained Dick and was a little too much). But still. You couldn’t let him decide of everything. You really REALLY didn’t want him to become a brat who thought he could just have anything whenever he wanted.

Dick was a great kid, your worst fear at the time was that he’d turn into a phony who thought of himself as superior just because he was from a famous and rich family, and allowed to do whatever he wanted.

And so, the “night ritual” began. On a common accord (because Dick was such a good kid, but also because that time you just kissed him, tucked him in and left really left a mark on him and he hated that so much !).

You realized the reason he couldn’t get to sleep right away was because he was always wayyyy too excited, but also...because he didn’t want you to leave so soon.

He dreaded the moment you’d leave, and he would be alone in his room.

So you put in place a system, that would gradually make him sleepy. And...

It worked.

First, you’d get dessert in bed. Usually fresh milk and a cookie. Something light, just to put him a little bit to sleep (Dick always got sleeping after he ate something, for some reasons). And you’d talk about your day, about how you felt. You’d lay it all out, so that your boy wouldn’t get to bed with any negative feelings. Talking, always helped.

Then you’d read him a bedtime story. Better yet, you’d invent a bedtime story just for him (this is how your most famous book saga, “Richard and the Space pirates” came to be). If you felt benevolent that night, you’d even tell him two stories.

One would usually do the trick, however.

Then you’d sing him a few lullabies, to lull him softly to sleep.

And as he’d fall asleep, you’d whisper :

“I love you so much.”

And he’d answer, outraged but too weak to really argue. A few last words before falling into a deep slumber :

“I love you more !”

And bam. He’d be passed out. Your soft voice in his ears, as you told him a story, sang to him, and told him he was loved...It was what he needed.

He was a rather young child too, who had a busy life. School, training, homework...So of course, with a little coaxing, he’d fall asleep fast.

But he had to know you were there. Had to know he had those moments with you, and wouldn’t be alone before he fell asleep.

See, you understood that all his stalling before the “night ritual” was put in place, was because he was trying to tire himself out before you left. He was trying to keep you there as long as possible, just so he would fall asleep fast once you were gone.

“I love you most.”

You’d tell him, as he was already sleeping sweetly, clinging to his comforter as you slowly caressed his hair, laid a last kiss on his forehead, and left the room. Making sure before, that his little light was on, in case he woke up at night.

Dick hated the dark.

“I love you.”

“I love you more !”

“I love you most.”

Night ritual.

Existing because your oldest kiddo, Dick, needed some “guidance” to fall asleep. But most importantly, because he needed to know you’d be there too, until he fell into his dreams.

You’d indulge him. Meeting him half-way between “doing everything he wants you to do” and “being way too strict”. There were rules, to bedtime.

A “night ritual”.

But the rules were lax. Could be bend. And existed only so he would be able to sleep relatively early.

For years and years, you’d do that little nightly ritual with him. It stopped when he was around 14, even if he still had a kiss goodnight and got tucked in. Things really stopped overall when he left for the Titans, shortly after turning 16, after that awful fight with his father.

Oh and to be honest, something he’d never tell anyone...Even now, as a grown ass adult, he’d sometimes call you at night just so you could sing him a song, as your voice was still the thing that’d put him peacefully at sleep even to this day. But the real “night ritual” stopped. Your little boy grew up.

Which made you so sad...But then Jason came in. And soothed the pain.

Jason

Jason ressembled Dick in that he really wanted you to stay for the longest possible. But, unlike Dick who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and who could be a bit of a brat sometimes, Jason wouldn’t say anything.

Dick definitely used his little charms and smiles to make you and Bruce crack, and give in...the little bugger even taught his younger siblings everything about how to manipulate you two into saying “yes”, to your greatest dismay...

Oh but, was one more scoop of ice cream really that bad ? After all, your children were nice most of the time, it was fine to be a little lenient sometimes, and though Bruce loved to think of himself as a strict parent, nobody was fooled, you were both pretty cool and lax...Which didn’t mean your children were misbehaving brats, although they had their moments, like everyone.

Anyway, Dick used to make it clear he was demanding for you to stay longer with him when bedtime was coming.

But Jason was a little shyer. He spend his entire life until then thinking he was bothering the people around him, that he was a burden, so he really didn’t want his new family to think that of him.

But you could see it in his eyes. You could. When he wanted for you to tell one more story, or to sing him one more lullaby. And although you were constantly teased by your husband about how easy those kids played you (as if he was one to talk)...you couldn’t resist.

You were always left rather sad and depressed, if you put one of your kids to bed and they looked visibly upset. So you’d stay longer. Anything for them to go to bed feeling good.

About life. About themselves. About everything, really.

A child shouldn’t have his sleep burdened by any worries.

Of course you knew you couldn’t be forever there for them, they’d eventually grow up and you wouldn’t really need to “tuck them in” anymore (at the time, you had no idea that even well in their twenties, if they came to sleep at the Manor, even as they already moved out, they’d ask you for a good night kiss...The magic of being consistent in your love for them, really).

You knew that eventually, they’d grow up too much and wouldn’t need you as much. That it’d be harder, too, to cheer your little ones up. Growing up unfortunately meant your worries grew with you too, and were harder and harder to forget. Or to be distracted from.

You knew one day would come, in which little Jason would not be soothed anymore, by you telling him a bed time story.

So maybe, you cracked a little too often, especially with him.

You knew Dick had a good childhood, before you adopted him. But Jason ? He was bruised and abused, and thrown away like a dirty socks too often. Nobody ever wanted him, anywhere he went.

Which was why, he didn’t dare to ask for a second story when you finished the first one.

See, Dick would just jump up in his bed, do a backflip and dramatically say : “Pleaaaase fair lady, another story for the poor squire boy !”. Which would make you smile, and tell him one more.

But Jason ? He didn’t say anything. And held all his feelings of sadness and disappointment inside.

He wanted, more often than not, a second story so bad. But he didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want you to realize he was actually a burden, and to throw him away, just like everyone else did.

Jason always got to have a second story. Of course, any of your kids would if they asked. But Jason never dared to ask. So you’d just give it to him naturally.

He always started to fall asleep half-way through the second story, which you’d keep on hold to then sing to him.

Your songs would make him slowly drift to sleep, a genuine smile on his face.

Oh. Jason. Always such a sweet boy, afraid to bother others, yet as contradictory as it sounded boisterous and full of life.

Your little Jason. When Dick left for the Titans, you hadn’t realized how much you missed having a little one home. And then.

Then there was Jason.

When he died, you thought your “motherhood” died with him. Dick was over eighteen by then, and even if Jason’s death made him come back to the Manor, there was no “night ritual” anymore. You didn’t have the heart for it anyway...

You still had Dick, but losing your young son like that, knowing how he died, made you feel like you would never recover. You were in such a bad shape, that you couldn’t even help Bruce when he also fell into a dark well. When he turned back to being overly violent as Batman, practices he stopped when Dick left and opened his eyes. When Dick questioned him.

You still had Dick, but it felt like part of what you were as a mother, died with Jason. How could you do a “night ritual” properly now, with the memories of your son’s sweet smile, him telling you this was his favorite part of his day ? With the memories of...

You moved from the East wing to the West wing, after Jason’s death. None of you could walk past his empty room anymore.

Dick came back. And it was his turn, to help you fall asleep. More than one night, he spend trying to comfort you as you couldn’t stop the tears from running down. He never left you alone.

Bruce couldn’t handle any of it, and he buried himself under his work as Batman. It would take him some time, before he realized that you had to be there for each others...

When Jason died, it felt like it was the end of everything nice about motherhood. Every night, you fell asleep with your head in your oldest son’s laps, seeing in his eyes the grief and pain of it all.

And you felt guilty. More depressed and sadder. You always hated seeing your children off to bed looking upset...

But it was hard to resist. Everything felt so far away. And Bruce wasn’t there. This was one of the darker moment, in your family life...

Dick felt helpless. He hadn’t been able to save his little brother. Now he couldn’t even help his parents. It felt like the entire family was breaking...

And then. Then Tim came in.

Tim

Tim’s parents never tucked him in, too busy with their high society lives.

So when he started to live with you and Bruce, after he lost both of them, he didn’t really expect you to...

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?”

You asked him on his first night being officially adopted.

Oh but this was rather long after you started to see him as your own son. Tim already stayed over the Manor many times (without his parents ever even calling to know where he was). And he’d been Robin for a few months, before his parents passed away and he was officially adopted into the Wayne family (A/N : no need to tell me that canonically, Tim got adopted quite a long time after his parents died and he was “just” a ward like Dick was, for a while ;). No need either to tell me he was “older” than the age I give him there, which is around 10/11...Firstly because it varies according to canons, like sometimes he’s young, sometimes he’s fifteen, but also because this is a fanfic and my canon ages for the boys are taken from the canon I prefer XD which are not the ones in which he had a certain “Happy 15th birthday” pizza. Anyway what I mean is, that I’m not entirely accurate here for sure, but eh, it’s a FANfic, let’s allow ourself a little freedom...there’s no official canon on his age or how old he was when adopted anyway, it varies wildly from era to era hehe).

Both you and Bruce kept your distance from him, at first. In more way than others, he painfully reminded you of the son you lost. And it felt wrong, to replace him so...

Replace him ?

Slowly, both of you were reminded of that conversation you had with Dick, once. When he was little, and asking if his parents would be mad if he called you and Bruce “mom and dad”.

That conversation, during which all of you talked about how you didn’t replace John and Mary, you just became another family for him. His new parents.

Didn’t mean he would ever forget about the ones who were ripped away from him. Just that he...

He allowed himself to love again.

And you did, too, when you finally accepted Tim in your life.

That boy had a way, anyway, to crawl inside your heart and settle comfortable there...He was just such a bright one, in more than one way. Sure, he was extremely intelligent, but he also just...Shone. A new sun in your life.

Not one that would replace any other Sun. Just. A new one. That you were allowed to love, too.

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?”

Now, he was officially your son. And this was the first night he’d spend in the Manor being yours. Before, you never dared to tuck him in, by fear of getting too attached just for him to be ripped away from you...And he almost did.

His father, almost took him away, before his ultimate demise... But that was another story.

Tonight, was the first night as your son. And he was still so small, just ten little years. The age Jason was too, when the official adoption papers were signed...

You chased away the painful memories, as little Timmy looked at you, surprised. But you could see a hint of interest in his eyes.

“A bedtime story ?”

“Yes, if you want to of course. You don’t have to-”

“I’d love a bedtime story !”

He was in such a hurry to tell you this, that it made you smile. And you could feel it in your bones. That boy never had anyone asking him if he wanted to be told a story, before sleep.

It was obvious in his excitement, and it was obvious in his hopeful eyes. Eyes that were asking : “...Do I really mean something to you ? Enough that you’d spend time reading to me ?”.

It broke your heart. Poor little one. Even though he had parents, and came from a rich family, he was never truly cared for. It was obvious in everything he did.

Often, he’d try to do stuffs on his own, and would be surprised if you, Alfred or Bruce would ask if he needed help...

Ah. Well tonight. Tonight called for one of your made up stories for sure. A mere random storybook wouldn’t do. No. You had to tailor one for him. Just for him. So he would finally know how special he is.

“Ok, well then.”

You settled next to him in his bed, as he sat up, the excitement pouring out of his very being. Alfred chose that time, to drop some milk and cookies, as he informed you he would be down in the Batcave to help Bruce.

Impeccable timing. As usual.

You thanked him, and started your story, as Tim looked at you with wide eyes, eating his cookie absentmindedly, quickly realizing you were telling a story about him ! :

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Timothy, and he didn’t know it yet but one day...He’d save the entire Kingdom of Waynalia. How, you might ask ? Well it was simple. You see, young Timothy had a talent to cure people’s heart. And the King and Queen of Waynalia, who were known to be cruel and vile, only were so because they’ve had broken hearts for far too long...”

Tim fell asleep at the end of the story. And just like his brothers, quickly took to this “night ritual”. After all, he was still just a child. And this entire “milk/cookie/ story/lullabies/kiss goodnight” was great.

Cassandra

Cassandra was fifteen, when she started to live with you at Wayne Manor. Too old, you thought, for the “night ritual”

Dick himself stopped demanding it around aged fourteen (after a certain Wally West mocked him when he heard of it), and even that was rather old when you thought of it. One of the main reason he slowly detached himself from it (apart from being mocked), was being Robin full time now, and going most nights out, so he didn’t really have the energy anymore for the ritual. It wasn’t needed. Which sort of broke your heart.

Jason died before he ever got the “chance” to ask you to stop....

But this was not something you wanted to think about. Oh no.

In any case, Cass was fifteen, and you thought, too old to want some bedtime stories by her mom, or any sort of snuggles.

That was until...

A nightmare.

You heard her, it felt even in your sleep. Something woke you, and then she started to scream. Bruce wasn’t home yet, and it was her night off (you forced all of them to have one, at least once a week).

That night, you had marathoned your favorite TV show with her, and went to bed your separate ways. You did kiss her goodnight, and told her you loved her (you always told them at least once a day, because you learned that in your line of work...you never knew what could happen...Jason’s smiling cheeky face came to your mind, did you tell him often enough that he-no. Not tonight.).

And then, late, it was pitch black out, you heard her scream.

Your mother instinct made you run to her. Quickly, you understood she had yet another bad dream about her father coming to get her, and forcing her to be a weapon again. It happened so often...

You shook her up, and she almost knocked you down as she was slowly regaining consciousness and wondering what the hell was happening and where she was. You know, those few seconds before you’re fully awake, when you’re not even sure you’re even someone anymore ? The time you need to remember oh right, I’m human, and I was in my bed. This is my bedroom. Right.

To sooth her, you started to slowly sing to her. To hold her while you rocked gently back and forth, and sung.

She didn’t talk, as you dried her tears. As you reminded that this was all fine, she was home, and David Cain would never hurt her again.

Cass calmed down, and fell back asleep. You held her most of the night, waiting for Bruce to come back. You just didn’t feel like going back alone in your bed, after such screams

The next night off she had, when it was time to part at the top of the stairs after yet another TV show marathon, when you’d go to your room and her to hers...

She stopped. And held onto your sleeve.

“Cass, honey, what is it ?”

There was a few seconds of silence, before she said :

“Do it again ?”

And you understood instantly.

See, the other nights, the ones she didn’t have off, Cass would come home exhausted after a night of vigilanting. But when she had her night off, when she wasn’t “working”...Sleep was hard to come.

You knew all too well what she felt. Your Broosh was the same, and already poured his feelings to you about it more than once.

Now, Cassandra wasn’t much of a talker (your husband either, really, but then it was different with you)but you could see it in her eyes.

“Sing ?”

She nodded. And so you went to tuck her in.

You thought she was “too old”. You thought she wouldn’t like it. You thought, as she was slowly discovering her own independence after being treated as a weapon and not choosing anything in her life, that she’d want to be alone in moments like this.

And oh. Oh you thought wrong.

That night, you sang to her until she fell asleep. And slowly but surely, the “night ritual” put himself into place.

Over the years, it didn’t change much. Because it was such a successful formula. Milk and cookies was talking about their day, getting their feelings out. A story by you. A soothing lullabies. Snuggles and kisses.

Winning formula.

Why change it ? Your children were all wildly different, but the one thing that linked them all, was how much they loved you and your antics.

Each of them had “mom time”, where they’d spend the day just with you (just like your Broosh and you had date nights and such). You always took time to spend individual time with all of them, and during those times the activities would be very different from one kid to another.

But those “night rituals” ? They didn’t need to change. Because they were perfect the way they were. Exactly what they all needed. Pure love, in many ways. And the knowledge they’d never be alone again.

Love and loneliness.

Two things your youngest son, Damian, struggled with for years.

Damian

“I love you, little one.”

The first time, Damian didn’t respond. He just nodded, and turned around in his bed, back facing you.

He couldn’t face you, or you’d see the “stupid” smile plastering his face at the mere thought he was loved, and had a real mom...But that, you didn’t know.

You didn’t really take it personally, you happened to know another “emotionally stunted” Wayne, so you were used to it. It took a while, for Bruce to finally admit his feelings for you. Even if they were obvious, and written all over his face (which is why Damian used the “back facing you” trick).

You knew it’d take time. So for now, you’d settle with a simple kiss, and reminding him he was cherished.

And then one day...

“Why do you not read me bed time stories ? Or make one up, with me as the hero ?”

“Beg you pardon ?”

You were diligently tucking him in, as he never told you off when you did it, when he asked this, taking you by surprise. What he said didn’t quite register, until he added :

“Grayson says that when he was little, you’d tell him a story. Made him the hero of it. And then you’d sing. He said there were cookies, too. Why do you not do that with me ?”

Oh. Oh. Oooooooooh.

You got it now. But you’re no less surprised.

“I thought...You had no interest in those ?”

Damian nodded slowly, and said :

“I know why you would think this...Mom.”

Mom. That...He hadn’t call you that very often, so far...

“But when you come to tuck me in, I never have nightmares. I sleep soundly, and I dream of-Soft things. Like unicorns and cats.”

This makes you smile. Oh. Oh if only people could see the Damian right in front of you, and not the Damian he liked to pretend he was.

Sweet, sweet boy.

“I know why you think I don’t want a story, and snuggles, and all the thing Grayson gushed about for hours. But I...Do. I like when you come to tell me goodnight, and I wouldn’t mind if it lasted longer ?”

He was so unsure. Very unlike his cocky usual self.

This, was the real Damian.

The one who really wants to connect with others, who wants to be good, but he’s just not really sure on how to proceed. So he pretends he doesn’t care.

But he does. He cares a lot.

He’s very much like your Broosh, in that regard. Like father like son, eh ? Both of them love to hide emotions from their faces, and pretend everything is ok, even when they’re breaking inside.

Silly boys.

You managed to reach Bruce. You were sure you could reach your son...

And it had already started. You could see it. You smile, and leave his room to get cookies and milk.

And oh damn it, you should’ve told him you were doing that ! Because when you came back, he was laying in his bed and looked absolutely crestfallen ! There was even small tears in his eyes, oh no !

You quickly understood that he thought you were refusing to do the famous “night ritual” with him. That you just went to bed too, and weren’t going to tell him a story.

His face brightens, truly brightens, reminding you of when the sun just comes out from behind high mountains. He sees the cookies and milk, and oh. Oh he looks so excited.

You dried his tears with the back of your hand, and smiled fondly at him.

It makes everything worth it. All your effort to connect with him, worth the work and heartache it brought.

You knew. You knew you’d eventually make it. And it’s that evening, when he asked for “the night ritual”, that you truly realized it.

First, cookies and milk, and a little talk about his day. His feelings, too.

Then the story, one you made up with him as the hero. He seemed to love that, especially to be a good hero, and not a villain. Cute, and heartbreaking at the same time.

Then come the lullabies.

And finally, the soft drift to sleep, and a last feel of warmth as you kiss his forehead and leave him to a deep slumber.

Damian has never felt so peaceful in his life before.

Duke

You didn’t really dare, at first, going to tell him good night.

Unlike your other children, Duke arrived in the family being a sixteen years old boy. Way pass needing someone to tuck him in. And you didn’t want to overstep your bound, you already knew how difficult things were for him. How hard it was to adapt to it all.

It was quite the same than with Cass. But even more complicated.

Cass’ childhood was inexistent, really. Destroyed before she could enjoy it. So sometimes, when with you or Bruce, she’d let go, and act like a child, even though she was older. It was fine. She never had a childhood, she could make up for it now. And so what if she liked hot cocoas and cuddles ? Nobody would hold it against her.

In fact, most adults would probably LOVE to be taken care of by their mom again.

But Duke, was different. He had a happy childhood, parents who were loving and caring...His mom most likely told him stories, and sung him lullabies.

And he was sixteen. And in the middle of an identity crisis, as his powers just barely manifested.

So you didn’t go to tuck him in. Even if you really wanted to.

You wanted to give Cass freedom, let her explore herself, as she always lived following someone else’s orders and view of life.

But Duke ? Duke was an entirely different case from Cass. And you could see him, at times, feeling lost and sad.

You always hated having your kids go to bed upset. But what could you do ?

He was certainly not gonna let you...Or, was he ?

After all, you never asked.

“Do you...Want a bedtime story ?”

He stares at you, visibly confused and thinking you’re a little crazy. And you realize yes, this question is ridiculous. The boy was sixteen !

“Nevermind, sorry that was stupid. I was just thinking...Well I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry. Night buddy.”

“Wait !”

Uh ? There was a sort of little panic, in his voice. As if he was afraid you were leaving so soon. You turned around, and waited for him to speak again.

“Maybe not a...bedtime story but...Maybe, maybe we could talk ? For a little bit ? My...My mom and I used to talk every night, it helped me sleep.”

You felt a lot of things at the same time.

Touched he wanted to do with you what he used to do with his mom.

Reassured to realize your guts were right, and that his mom did tuck him in sweetly every night.

And sad that it took him so long to ask you for this.

“Of course Duke, of course.”

Duke, was older than any of your other children, when he came into your life. But it didn’t mean...

It didn’t mean he didn’t need you. Or your motherly side.

He never quite had the full “night ritual” experience, as some aspect of it were definitely too childish. But he had the cookies and milk. And the talk. And the feel that you would always be there for him.

Always.

************

The end ?

No.

Bruce

Bruce tossed and tossed in his bed, sleep evading him.

There used to be a time, every nights were like that. Unable to fall asleep, and when he did, his slumber was plagued with the most terrible nightmares.

Maybe that’s why, more than anything else, he decided to use his nights to be a vigilante ? Of course, the cover of nights helped in many ways, doing his Batman work in broad daylight would be more difficult (even if he did do some work during the day). Especially in regards of his “Brucie Wayne” persona, his cover up, pretending he definitely can’t be Batman.

Ever since his parents died, Bruce had trouble falling asleep. That’s probably why it was so easy for him to train himself to sleep barely a few hours a night, and stay in shape even as he often ran on very little resting time.

He lived like that for so many years...

And then. Then you appeared in his life.

And every nights in your arms were peaceful, he was taken by a deep sleep that could happen only with you. He slept so soundly, when you were there, that often when you had to wake up before him, you had to call Alfred so he’d help you untangle yourself from his grasp (I wrote a story about that haha : How to remove a Wayne safely).

You forced him to take at least one night off, and he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to rest on those nights...yet he always fell asleep like a baby, around 11 pm max, often falling asleep in front of whatever movie you were watching, just the two of you.

You had that power. To allow him to sleep well, and not have such awful nightmares.

So when you weren’t with him, he couldn’t find sleep.

He would toss, again and again, and whenever he’d almost fall asleep, his hand would unconsciously look for you in bed and the fact you were absent would make him be wide awake again.

Yes. He just couldn’t sleep, when you weren’t there.

Which is why...Which is why he was a little grumpy, when you would take a long time telling your children good night. It was a sort of jealousy he wasn’t very proud of.

Fighting other men to get your attention ? Any day. Fighting his own children...Felt a little shameful. Not like he could control this feelings, there was time, he was a little selfish. And you two had such few times to yourself, with the life you lead, that any opportunity was taken gladly.

He’d always try to be there for the story time, and for a kiss and some “Love you, kiddo” before leaving either for the cave, or to take an early night in.

Early night ins. Rare occasion.

Like tonight. His one night off this week.

He trusted his cousin, Batwoman, to take care of the city, and his oldest sons, Dick and Jason, who were now old enough to go out there on their own, too...Well, he did still hid trackers in them, and made sure to ask Kate to keep an eye on them, but they were adults.

Capable of taking care of themselves, and go out there to keep Gotham safe, and take care of their younger siblings.

They were still absolutely forbidden to go out there alone. And no one wanted to argue much with your husband about safety, he had already made punchlines for those occurrences and it was impossible to win against him.

Cass, Tim, Damian and Duke weren’t allowed yet to fly solo like their older brothers. They were only allowed to go out there while Bruce wasn’t IF they were with Kate, Dick, or Jason.

Bruce particularly liked when they were with Jason because although many would think he was the most reckless one, because of his “bad boy” reputation but...When it came to his siblings’ safety, he did NOT joke around.

Dick encouraged them to become their own person, and to take initiative (he trusted them to know what they could and could not do, and he was right). But Jason ? Jason took after you, and your “mama hen” personality, for sure.

Actually, Bruce often sneakily stuck one of his younger kid with Jason, so his reckless son would be more careful. Neither you nor your husband wanted to ever lose him again...So what if you had to resort to dirty tactics and ask him to look after a younger siblings for him to be less incautious ?

In any case, it had been a long time deal by then, that Bruce HAD to take at least one night off. All of them had; They each had one night a week. Conveniently, there were seven of them.

On those nights, you and Bruce would be together every single second of it, relishing in a little alone time, and in spending an entire night together for once, and not just a few hours there and there.

But tonight, Damian was sick, and couldn’t go out either. Which was why you weren’t in bed with Bruce, right now. You were tucking your sick son in, and it already took quite a while on normal days but as he was feeling under the weather ??

Bruce knew you. He knew you would stay with him until he fell asleep. And he knew his son, too. He knew he would try to stay awake as long as possible just to be with you.

Which meant...Your husband being alone, right now, and unable to sleep. Ugh. He should’ve just gone out as Batman tonight, and take a break another day. ...As if you or Alfred would’ve let him. You knew that “taking a break another day”, with him, meant never.

Bruce tossed a few more times, and resolved that he couldn’t sleep up until you’d come. So he sat up, and thought he might as well take a walk around the Manor. It always calmed him down, as a child...

That’s when you decided to come in.

“Going somewhere ?”

You ask him, suspicious. He knows you think he was about to leave for the Batcave. And he doesn’t correct you. It’s better you think that, you already knew way too much how to push all his buttons down, he’d rather you not know that he was in fact about to just walk around the Manor and not go to the bat cave because he promise you to take the night off...

Oh. Oh if Superman could hear his thoughts right now. He would surely not recognize his “workaholic” friend...And definitely not recognize his will to not piss off his wife, and listen to her. The Batman didn’t care, if he pissed people off ! Well. Except for his wife, who could be very scary, when angry.

Damn it.

Your face.

Your face shows much concern, behind that slight bit of anger at the thought he was about to sneak to the Batcave, that he can’t hold it back for too long.

To hell, if you were the only one who knew him perfectly, and had him wrapped around your little finger. You gave it back to him plenty. So, just as soon as he was telling himself he wouldn’t tell you the truth...He told you the truth :

“No. I was-...I was just about to take a walk around the Manor.”

You look at him, a question in your eyes. And you don’t have to ask him, as he answers :

“I can’t sleep when you’re not there. Needed to clear my mind.”

It makes you smile, of course. And it’s the truth, oh it’s the truth.

He really can’t fall asleep, when you’re not near.

You climb on the bed, and slowly move to him.

“How’s Damian ?”

“Asleep. His fever went down, finally. Thanks the gods.”

“Was he trying to fight sleep, and argue to have another story ?”

“Oh you know he did.”

“Haha, I don’t blame him. Anything, to keep you closer for longer.”

“What a sappy man you turned out to be, my heart. Who would’ve thunk, right ?”

“Don’t tell Clark.”

This makes you laugh, and you move even closer to him, settling in his laps, facing him. His hands find themselves around your waist naturally, and as you lay your own hands on his cheeks, looking at him fondly and longingly, you say :

“I love you, my Broosh.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you so much I think I’d die if you were gone.”

“I love you so much I put up with your bullshit.”

“Hahaha. Cheeky. I love you so much I eat your awful gluten free cake without batting an eye.”

“You ass ! Well, I love you so much I don’t even mention it when you call this disgusting mixture you make in the morning “coffee” “

“Oh wow, ouch. I love you so much I don’t even care about you criticize me.”

You chuckle a little, and kiss his nose, before adding :

“I love you so much, that I wouldn’t change anything in my life. Not even the heartaches...Because everything lead me to you. And a life without you, is no life at all.”

Admittedly, you cheated a bit, using his “I love you so much without you I’d die” against him, twisting things a little to pack a little more punch. And...

There’s a short pause, he looks at you, and then he leans over, slowly and softly pecking your lips. You think this means you won tonight, and you will be back in his arms in no time, allowing him to sleep properly...But you’re wrong.

He says, after burying his face in the crook of your neck, in barely a whisper, his breath tickling you softly :

“I love you so much, I would quit being Batman if you asked me to.”

“Wait, what ?”

You never asked him to. You never did, and never will. Because you were on of the only person on this Earth that truly understood him, and that loved him unconditionally.

You knew and understood why he dressed like a bat each (or almost each) nights, to go fight crimes in Gotham City.

You knew and understood all of his motives.

And for this reason, you’d never ask him to stop doing so. But him admitting he would stop if you did ask, it made you feel...So much.

It touched you beyond all measure. You didn’t even know how to respond to it.

“Ah, I win, didn’t I ?”

You had no words to answer. You knew how much you loved him, how much he meant to you, and how impossible it was to even envision a life without him. But he always managed to surprise YOU with how deeply in love he was with you. How much he’d give up, just for you. How you knew, he would burn the entire world, if it meant saving you...

He would for his children, too. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had been to that warehouse sooner, and killing the Joker meant saving Jason...he would’ve done it. There was no point doing in afterward, once his son was already gone...But there, in the moment, to save him ?

He would. He would kill everyone, just to save his family.

This was a side not a lot of people knew. They all assumed he wouldn’t do it, that he would let you or his children die for the greater good. That’s why considering, you guys weren’t kidnapped that much.

Every villain, everyone, always thought that the Batman would not budge from his principles even if it meant saving those he loved.

And they were wrong. They were so wrong.

It was good, though, that only you knew that.

“Ah. I win, didn’t I ?”

You don’t have the words to answer him, your heart overflowing with so much. Overwhelming. So you go to the next best thing.

Actions.

You kiss him. With all the passion and love you can gather in your being.

You kiss him, and he kisses you back.

That.

That was his night ritual.

The only way he could fall asleep peacefully, like he used to when his mom and dad tucked him in. Before their death.

Finding purchase once more, in your arms, after years of night plagued with nightmares and pain.

Being near you. With you. In every way possible. Touching you, feeling you near. Right there. By him.

The big bad bat’s “night ritual”, it was you.

It was, and would always be you.

The end (for good, this time, haha).

_________________________________________________

As you might’ve noticed, I’m in a very soft mood lately haha. I guess I’m just happy about my current situation, so I wanna write all the fluff and make the Batfam happy...Not for long though. I have some mighty angst in store for you, just you wait ;). In any case, here’s to a small bonus story. Hope you liked it even if it’s not what I said I’d post ^^'. I assure you what I planned is coming, I’m just being damn slow. As usual any comments and reblogs are more than welcomed <3.

PS : Last time I posted a bonus story, an anon wasn’t happy I wasn’t posting longer stories I said I would post soon haha...So just a quick thing : those stories I’ve been posting lately literally take between 20 minutes to an hour to write. It’s extra fast, and I don’t re-read myself. So I can post them rather rapidly. But those I have in store that are long as hell and full on one-shots I thought a lot about, not just random drabbles, need a lot more work. Which is why they take longer. Which I’d think is obvious to everyone (most of y’all are super understanding and nice <3), but I guess not huh...Please. Be patient with me. I’m super busy lately. But everything I said I’d post WILL be posted. I can promise this much.

2K notes · View notes

songficsbyrissi · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Mines Still (Erik X Reader)

“They say time heals She can't see her life without me, she's so blind still Fuck that nigga, you can tell him that you're mines still” - Yung Bleu feat. Drake

A/N: heyyyy y’all! Back from the dead again! 🤣 here to drop my shit and dip as always. I’m trying to stop that, I swear. Hennyways, I wanna put a disclaimer here: I have nothing against MBJ. I couldn’t care less about the nigga but I thought it’ll be interesting to have this nigga as the boyfriend, instead of making a character up in contrast to Erik. I think it’s perfect because I’m pretty sure they’re two completely different niggas. And I know “mines” isn’t proper English but I’m going with the title of the song so don’t start with me 😂😂😂 Aight imma let y’all read lol. Hope you enjoy it!

**************

You were doing it again.

You found yourself observing your boyfriend Michael, and comparing him to your ex, Erik. Right now, Michael came into the kitchen and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek to say good morning. It was sweet and nice but Erik would’ve grabbed you by the waist, pulled you in for a long, juicy kiss, followed by a smack on the ass. You found yourself low-key missing that, but you moved on so you had to let that go.

“Michael?”

“Yes, cookie?”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. It was a cute nickname, but ever since you told him your favorite dessert was chocolate chip cookies, here this nigga go, making it your nickname.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“You seem so distant, babe. What’s on your mind?” He asked from his seat at the table.

You avoided eye contact with him. “Nothing. I’ve just been tired.”

He snorted at this. “It’s because you work too much. I told you to chill.” He got up from the table and kissed you on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll see you later. I gotta go to the office.”

“Bye.” You said faintly as he walked out of the door. That was another thing. Erik could tell when something was bothering you and knew you avoided eye contact when you were lying. Michael just let anything you tell him slide. At this point, you could have a gunshot wound in your stomach and tell him you were fine and he’ll believe it.

You sighed deeply and got your things together so you could go back to your place. Michael asked you to move in with him, but you knew you weren’t ready for that. Not with him.

On your way to your apartment, you remembered you needed to do some grocery shopping, so you pulled up to the supermarket and pulled out your list of essentials on your notes app. The supermarket wasn’t too busy, thank God. You were able to weave back and forth through the aisles with ease. You got to the soup aisle and the broth you needed was all the way on the top shelf. You looked to the side to make sure no one would see you embarrass yourself. Before you could climb, a man’s arm reached up, grabbed the carton of broth, and handed it to you.

You smiled softly. “Thank you so much. I was about to embarrass myself climbing this shelf.”

“I could see that.” The man replied in a familiar voice that caused you to break your neck to look at him.

“Erik....” you breathed nervously once your eyes fell on him. He was still fine as always. The day you run into him, he would be wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An outfit that gets any girl’s faucet running. You wanted to sneak a glance, but you stopped yourself because you knew he would catch it.

He licked his bottom lip and looked you up and down. Damn him.

“Hey ma...it’s been a while.”

You nodded, looking down at your shopping cart. “Yeah, it has....”

“You still fine as hell.” Erik cracked a smirk and you were getting more and more nervous under his gaze. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You decided to breathe and ignore his statement. “How have you been, Erik?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which something he always did when he was nervous. Holy shit, he was nervous around you. Why did that bring a pang of joy into your heart?

“I’ve been chilling. I'm still an architect. Still designing houses and getting people to buy them. It’s been aight. I’ve been successful.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “That’s good. I’m glad everything is going good in your career.”

“Yeah, it is. If only you were with me to see it all.”

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “Erik-“

“I should’ve never let you go, Y/N. You were a good ass woman and you motivated me. I know I messed up but-“

“Erik, I’m kinda seeing someone else right now.” You spat out, preventing him from continuing the monologue he had going. He seemed taken aback by your outburst. Then came denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance all on his face.

“I’m sorry, Erik but I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Michael and he’s great. I figured you should know that.”

Erik let out a dry laugh in response and held his hands up in defense. “Yeah, you know what? I should’ve. A woman like you, of course, a nigga gonna snatch you up. That’s my fault. I hope he treats you well.”

“He does.” You swallowed hard and pushed your cart forward. “You take care of yourself, Erik. I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t wait for a reply. You just continued pushing until you heard his voice.

“You too, Princess.”

You stopped in your tracks for a bit, hearing that nickname for the first time in forever but you continued on your journey, refusing to look back at your ex.

You wrapped up your grocery store trip and went home. Even while you were cooking for your new man, Erik was still on your mind. You couldn’t help but think about all the times you had with him. One memory came back to you and you cringed. The night you two broke up.

“All you can think about are these damn houses! What about our house, Erik?!?!” You screamed coming closer to him, with your fists clenched. “What about all the shit you promised me?!”

“You’re still getting it, Princess! I promise!” He tried to pull you in a hug, but you pushed him away. All you saw was red. You didn’t want him touching you. You stuck a finger in his face.

“Bullshit! I’m tired of your empty-ass promises! I’m better than this! I’m better just being your damn girlfriend for all these years! It’s either you’re wanna be with me forever or you don’t! It’s that simple!”

Erik gathered up all the anger building to yell back. “No! It ain’t that simple! You just don’t get it.” Your angry demeanor softened at his words and you took a seat on the leather sofa. You wanted to cry because this shit was so fucking frustrating. You looked up at him with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Help me get it, Erik. Please. Because I just don’t.”

Erik took your trembling hands into his larger hands. “I just...I just don’t see myself as your husband right now. I got a lot of shit to work out before I can make that type of commitment to you, ma. I just need you to understand that and stick with me. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen. I’m just saying now’s not the right time.”

As much as you tried to prevent it, it happened. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Erik began wiping them off, but you backed away.

“You keep saying that. When is the right time, huh? When?” You asked then sneered once you saw that once again, he couldn’t supply you an answer. “Just admit it, Erik. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to get a house with me, you don’t want to have kids with me. You don’t...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say this. “You don’t want forever with me. Now I get it.”

Erik shook his head vigorously as you rose from the sofa and he grabbed your hand. “No, baby girl! You’re not getting it! I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

You used your free hand to wipe some more of your tears. “You don’t love me the way I love you, Erik. I’ve been dying to be your wife, but you don’t want to be my husband. So I’m not gonna waste time with you when I can find someone who will.”

You released yourself from the grip he had on you, both figuratively and literally, and packed all your shit up. Despite the protests and guilt-tripping coming from Erik, you still made it your mission to get the fuck out of his apartment and get the fuck out of his life.

After mourning and healing from the loss of your long-term relationship, you met Michael. He was a nice man who looked similar to Erik but was completely different, personality-wise. Your friends noticed how much Michael looked like Erik, but they decided not to bring it up because they knew you would deny it. You were in denial, convinced it was all a coincidence. Deep down, you knew damn well he looked like Erik.

However, he was nothing like him and you thought that would work out in your favor. It didn’t.

You laid wide awake in Michael’s bed. He fell asleep after one round of sex and you were not satisfied. The sex was good, but one round??? Erik used to go at least 3 a night. Erik also would spoon, but Michael was turned away from you, snoring away. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and you picked it up to see a text from your ex. You sat up in shock and opened it.

Erik:

Ik I shouldn’t b but I can’t stop thinkin bout u. I never stopped.

You took a deep breath and fixed your thumbs to respond.

You:

I’m with someone else, Erik. U gotta respect that.

Erik:

I do I just don’t like it. Can we at least be friends?

You contemplated your answer, then constructed a text back.

You:

Fine. We’ll be friends.

Erik:

With benefits? 👀

This caused you to stifle a laugh that would’ve been loud enough to wake up your boyfriend.

You:

Lmao no! Just friends, Erik.

Erik:

Lol I’ll take what I can get. Good night, Princess ❤️

After that last text, you were smiling yourself to sleep. It didn’t take long for Erik to invite you to group outings with mutual friends to eventually just you and him. It felt wrong but felt so right at the same time. You were alone in Michael’s apartment once again when Erik hit you up asking if you would like to see a house he built that was being pulled off the market. You agreed since you had nothing else to do. It’s just a house.

Needless to say, The house was gorgeous.

“Shittttt look at this fucking closet!” You cooed, entering the large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and turned around to look at Erik with an enormous smile on your face. “Erik! You did that shit! This is my dream house! If I had the money, I would buy it right now!”

Erik chuckled with his arms folded. “It’s already bought, Princess.”

You scrunched up your face in disappointment as you stood against the marble island table in the middle of the room. “Ughh for real? I bet they don’t even like it like that!”

“Nah...I do.” He walked up to you slowly.

It didn’t click for your slow ass what he just said. “Of course you like it. You designed it.”

“Nah, we designed it.”

A record scratch went off in your head and you turned to see Erik right next to you. You gazed into his eyes to see an emotion you couldn’t describe. He saw confusion in yours.

“You ain’t noticed how this house is exactly your dream house? Everything you wanted in a house is right here. Baby girl, after you left me, all I could think about you and us and how I fucked us up. I was designing other houses and buildings, but there’s one that was most important to me that I never focused on and that was ours. I remembered our discussions and you didn’t know it, but I took notes of everything we wanted in a house. I finally had the motivation to get it designed, built, and bought.”

Erik built a house for you. He actually listened to you. Even when you thought he wasn’t, he was listening to every detail of what you wanted. You had so many questions to ask, but you were speechless. What were you supposed to say to this?

“I don’t want you to think I was on some creepy nigga shit because I wasn’t. It’s just that this design was gonna go to waste and I was going to let them sell it to the highest bidder, but I just couldn’t. This house was the last piece of you I had left. If I sold it, it was like me officially giving up on the possibility of us. I still had that hope. I’m a stupid ass nigga, I know.”

Your right hand grasped his left hand and he finally spared you a glance to see unshed tears in your eyes.

“I wanted this....from you....for so long. For so long! Why are you giving it to me now?! When I have someone else?!” You threw his hand out of frustration and exited the closet. You didn’t make it far. You just went into the master bedroom and cried your eyes out. You waited so long for this and he’s giving it to you now? When Michael was in the picture? Well, It’s too damn late.

Erik got on his knees and grasped your knees. You stared at him through the tears in your eyes.

“I know you’re building a life with this nigga, but stop. Stop that shit. You know he ain’t the one for you. Fuck that nigga. You’re mines still.” Erik was pleading with you. He began to shed a tear. Holy shit, he meant every word. “Baby, I’m on my knees. Take me back.”

Your ex began planting tender kisses on your knees and traveled up to your thighs, still holding you. Your heart raced at his actions, but you didn’t want him to stop. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. As much as you tried to lie to yourself, you still loved him.

“Erik, get up.”

He obeyed and you took his face in your hands, caressing the sides.

“You’re such a fucking manipulative motherfucker and I hate that I love you so fucking much.”

Erik took your hands into his and kissed the insides. “I ain’t trying to manipulate you, baby. I swear I’m not. I love you and I just wanted you to know that I heard you. You just wanted a nigga to show you that he was serious about you. I get it. While you were gone, I focused on myself and fixed myself because I admit I was dragging my ass with doing that while we were together. It was because I thought you were here to stay so I had all the time in the world to get my shit together. When you left, I saw that I was wrong. I was wrong as fuck.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him keep talking.

“I love you, baby. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, but if you say no, I’ll sell this house and leave you alone for good. I swear on my Pops’ grave, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, Y/N.” His words were so heartfelt. “I don’t wanna go unless you make me.”

You were hyperventilating through your tears, then a smile formed across your face. “Erik, I love you. I love you so much, baby.”

Erik tackled you with frequent kisses on your lips and it turned into a whole passionate make-out session. He planted kisses all over your neck while he unbuttoned your blouse and you could feel his hard dick through his pants.

“Fuck. I missed this. I missed us.” You breathed when his lips met yours, once again.

“I missed us too, baby.” Erik rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes with so much love. “Be my wife.”

You backed away from him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Marry me, baby. I don’t wanna waste any more time.” He saw the look on your face and his joyful expression turned somber. “You don’t want to marry me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, Erik. I always wanted to but just because we getting back together doesn’t mean I wanna rush into a marriage. We gotta fix us first. We can’t even fix us right now because I still have to break up with Michael.”

Erik put a hand through his hands and blew air out of his mouth. “You right.”

“And the way you asked sucked.” You deadpanned but found yourself laughing afterward and he face palmed himself. “Seriously? After all this time, I deserve a better proposal than that.”

Erik chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “You right. Once again. Imma do better.”

And when he said he would do better, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the proposal.

“You better. I ain’t giving you a third chance. This ain’t baseball!”

This caused him to guffaw, pull you into a tight, loving embrace, and kissed you once again. He had a grin on his face that rivaled the Cheshire cat.

“You’re mines still,” Erik said as a statement and a question.

“Yep. I never stopped being yours, baby boy.”

TAGS: @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelmaree @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelpotterlove @guccixcucci @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @fd-writes @rbhp @fandom-fangirl22 @bigchoose

(Sorry if you got double tagged or I missed you. I need to get my tags together I know )

#Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger fic #erik x reader #erik killmonger x you #erik killmonger fanfic #Erik killmonger fanfiction #Erik killmonger x black reader #erik kilmonger x reader #erik killmonger fanfiction #Erik killmonger fluff #you're mines still #black panther #black panther imagine #black panther fic #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic

373 notes · View notes

bookstantrash · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Next week uni exams start and I won’t be able to write for a while, so I did my best to finish this chapter on time before I go MIA for some time.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You and Smells like petrichor and paper, part one, two and three of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

The sound of music

Cassian could not sleep. His mind kept coming back to the greenhouse.

To Nesta and her lavender and vanilla scent and how lovely she looked amidst the flowers.

He would not lie to himself and say he did not let his lips linger a little bit longer than necessary on her temple.

Or that he had not felt some resemblance of male pride on seeing her wearing his jacket.

That he had not imagined her wearing it after they had come back home from a ball or one of Gywn’s operas.

That he had not imagined Nesta tucked close to his side, his arms around her and a smile on his face as he heard her talk about her day.

His imagination, it seemed, was his worst enemy.

“You are delusional Cassian” he mumbled to himself “Delusional”

Sighing, he touched the pressed daisy chain again. He had taken it out of his drawer and left it in front of him as he worked on some papers regarding his properties, thinking the numbers, reports of complaints or requests would help tire him out enough to make sleep come.

Cassian had no such luck. He worked until the entire pile had been properly looked through, and even three glasses of his strongest brandy could not make his thoughts of Nesta go away.

Nesta, who was currently sleeping in one of Pemberley’s guest rooms after much freeting from Mrs.Potts and her friends about catching a cold. Cassian had made sure to have her room properly warmed and a glass of hot chocolate delivered to her first thing after they arrived from the greenhouse.

Her friends had been delighted to spend the night, and he had almost asked them to forego the inn completely and just stay at Pemberley for the rest of the month. But he did not want to mess their schedule and ruin their trip. He knew that Gwyn was on a short vacation, as were Emerie and Balthazar, and Nesta could not stay away from her younger sister, Elain, for too long, given that they had no male relative to look after their household and wellbeing in the meantime.

Maybe a trip to the kitchens would help him. A midnight snack was bound to make his sleep come soon, and he was sure he had heard one the maids saying that Chef Ramsay had baked chocolate cookies.

Safely putting the bookmark back in his drawer, Cassian only bothered to throw a robe on before quietly making his way down the hallways. He was not worried about being shirtless, given that most of the house was for certain sleeping.

Deciding to take the long way to the kitchen in hopes of tiring himself, he was surprised to pass by the library and see light coming from underneath the doors. Thinking that maybe someone had forgotten to check the place in their rounds, Cassian opened the oak doors to find the candle light. He could not risk a fire happening in the library out of all places.

He followed the faint glow until he found himself with a most surprising — but very welcome — sight.

Nesta was currently curled up on his favourite chair reading a book in nothing but a thin nightgown and he momentarily forgot to be annoyed at her for not covering herself after being caught in the rain if only because by the way she was seated he had a privileged view of her bare legs.

Cassian knew he should announce his presence, his conscience yelling at him how improper and scandalous it was to see her in such a private moment. But he let himself stare at her for another minute, commiting to mind every single detail, from the way the ribbons in her nightgown accentuated her waist — he recalled how small it had seemed when they had danced at Feyre’s ball, his hand spanning nearly halfway across — to how the white colour made her eyes look more grey than blue in the candlelight.

“Fancy seeing you here” Cassian said in greeting, clearing his throat.

Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard him, quickly scrambling to straighten herself up when she realised she was not alone.

“I am sorry, you had said I could come whenever I wanted and I—”

"Could not sleep?” he asked, and Nesta only nodded.

Oh dear Mother, she wanted to crawl into a hole on the ground and disappear. Why was it that she was always finding herself in embarrassing situations when it came to Cassian?

It was true she could not sleep, her mind replaying her evening with Cassian, from the moment she stepped on the library to when he kissed her temple in the greenhouse.

She had tossed and turned in her bed for hours, her creative mind conjuring images of a future with him.

Of long strolls in the garden and picnics by the lake.

Of hours spent reading quietly side by side in the library.

Of running her hands in his silky hair, coming up with new ways to style it.

Of Cassian’s coat around her shoulders and her head on his as they came back from a late evening of dancing or parties with their friends.

Why could she not stop thinking about him? Why had he not left her mind since they had first met each other and why did her heart skip a beat whenever he was nearby?

She looked at him, flushing all over when she noticed that he would have been completely naked from the waist up were it not for a robe, which had loosened up a bit, revealing a bit of his naked chest.

For Cauldron’ sake, did he not own a shirt?

“What are you reading?” he inquired, and she quickly averted her gaze from his chest.

Little did she know he was also trying very hard to not stare at her bare shoulders or her chest, cursing once again whoever had gifted her such nightgown.

He could bet his fortune it had been Emerie, recognizing the modice’s preference of off shoulders designs.

“Oh, it’s a romance” Nesta felt her ears getting even hotter “By Sellyn Drake. You have a rather large collection here. Some are even first editions”

“She was a dear friend of Pemberley’s previous Lady” Cassian said, motioning for her to take a seat as he told her the story “The Lord sponsored her, both because he saw how her writing brought joy to his wife and also Lady Drake’s talent.”

“She soon became extremely famous and still kept sending the previous Lord her books even after his wife passed away” Cassian smiled faintly “He sold Pemberley and moved, but I kept the library as it was, just adding my own books here. Lady Drake comes once a while to visit and get inspiration for new novels, although she says she is to retire soon.”

“Y-you know her?” Nesta’s voice had gotten an uncharacteristic high pitch “You know Sellyn Drake personally?!”

“She is a very annoying old lady” Cassian said rolling his eyes “Always asking me if I will not take a wife so she will have someone more interesting to discuss her books with whenever she visits.”

“I cannot believe you are friends with one of my favourite authors” Nesta said in disbelief.

“But I would not have pegged you for a romance reader” she added, arching an eyebrow.

“I could not very well leave those books here to gather dust, could I?” he answered, squirming on his seat.

“Tell me, did the scary General Commander of the British Armies shed a tear in any of them?” her voice had a teasing tone and Cassian was almost left speechless by that fact alone.

Nesta inclined her body in his direction, apparently having forgotten she was not wearing modest attire at all and that Cassian was desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of her chest.

“I promise not to tell anyone if you did”

And then Nesta Archeron gave a little sideway smile that made Cassian lose his breath.

He did not know what he had done that made her take such liberties with him, but he for sure was not going to complain.

“I did not cry” he finally managed to answer, angling his body in her direction and smirking when he saw a faint blush adorning her cheeks “But I will not be heartless and say it did not move me a little.”

They were close once again. So close Nesta could see that his eyes had little green speckles on them and that the brown looked like molten chocolate.

They were eyes one could drown and all she wanted to do was to indeed drown on them.

“Next time Lady Drake plans on coming to Pemberley I will make sure to invite you too” Cassian said softly, straightening himself “It is quite late. I will accompany you to your room.”

As if on cue, Nesta yawned, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“I only have one chapter left” she tried to argue, suppressing another yawn.

“Such a headstrong lady you are” he smiled and took the candlelight “The book will still be here tomorrow.”

Nesta followed him begrudgingly, twisting her nose in annoyance even though she was yet again holding back another yawn. Cassian thought she looked like a tiny angry kitten, laughing internally.

They walked back to her room in a comfortable silence, and sooner than he would have liked they had arrived.

“Well, then, here we are. Delivered safe and sound”

“Thank you, your grace” Nesta opened the door but did not get inside, as if she too did not want to part with him.

“Have a goodnight of sleep, my lady” he said, dropping a kiss on her hand before he could dwell too long on it.

“Goodnight, your grace” she breathlessly answered, finally getting inside and leaving Cassian standing outside her door.

Needless to say, both fell asleep quickly after that.

~•~

“For Cauldron’ sake are you incapable of sending prior notice of your arrival? And it is way too early to be drinking wine Morrigan, even for you”

Cassian had arrived to have breakfast and found Rhysand’s cousin casually seated at table, twirling her glass of wine at nine in the morning.

“I came here straight from Vivian’s. It was a long journey and I needed the wine. Besides, I am family! I knew you were going to like my surprise visit” Mor blinked at him.

“Always a pleasure to see you” Cassian answered, sitting beside her and promptly dumping a large portion of bacon and eggs on his plate “I take you introduced yourself to my other guests?”

“Of course” she snorted, making Georgiana laugh “Except for Miss Carynthian and Sir Oristian, that is. It seems they went into town early to see something in relation to their business.”

As if on cue, the dining room doors were open and Balthazar and Emerie walked in.

Emerie had opted to wear trousers today — Cassian thought it was to not be belittled by some stupid mercants and show with just who they were dealing with — and a white shirt with long sleeves with a forest green vest. Her curly brown hair was down and she had a gleam in her eyes that told him her business transaction had been a success.

She really was a sight to behold but it still startled him when Mor spat out her wine.

Mor never wasted wine.

“Sorry for our late arrival, Balthazar was being a weakling” Emerie said, sitting in front of a very much flustered Morrigan.

“I was not. You are the one who never lets the other have the upper hand” Balthazar pointed out.

“Please, you know that piece of silk was not worth that much!” she spread jam in a piece of toast, waving the knife in a rather aggressive manner.

“Maybe, but if you keep that up you will gather more enemies than business partners”

“Good thing I have you as my bodyguard” she batted her eyelashes innocently, making Balthazar roll his eyes.

“You are Miss Carynthian. The Miss Carynthian?” Mor asked in awe, her coughing fit finally over.

“The one and only. I take you know my shop?” Emerie asked with a smile.

“I absolutely adore your designs!” Mor gushed, and they fell in a very excited talk about gowns and fashion trends.

“Did you have a goodnight of sleep?” Cassian whispered to Nesta, who was seated beside him.

“I did, thank you for your concern, your grace” she answered, grabbing a chocolate cookie “I hope you also had a pleasant sleep?”

“The best sleep I had in years” he winked at her, that sideway smile of hers appearing again.

“Lady Nesta, my brother has told me how brilliantly your dancing is” Georgiana butted in, and Cassian resisted the urge to throttle her.

His younger sister was lucky there were other people present or he would do just that.

“He is too kind, my dancing is not that memorable” Nesta said, a bit embarrassed.

“But my brother never lies!” Georgiana exclaimed, receiving a glare from Cassian “He told me how the whole ballroom stopped to watch you as you danced.”

“Oh, thank you for the compliment your grace”

“It was nothing but the truth” Cassian assured her, sending daggers at Georgiana, who was sweetly seated by his other side as if she had not just told Nesta how infatuated with her he was.

“I wish I had your talent” Georgie sighed “I am really shy at balls and never really want to dance even if I am asked to. I usually throw my dancing card in the trash in fear someone will write their name there.”

“But I love to watch my brothers running from the scary mammas” she added with a devilish grin, failing in a brotherly bickering with Cassian.

Nesta felt her heart break over Georgiana’s fear of dancing. Apart from reading, dancing was one of the few things that brought Nesta joy. It made her feel alive, the music allowing her to get lost on the moment and forget the pressures high society placed upon her.

Dancing made Nesta feel empowered, in control of her own destiny.

Georgiana deserved to feel like that too.

And that is why when Emerie, Gwyn and Mor went shopping together while the gentlemen went horse riding, Nesta proposed that she teach Georgiana how to dance.

“Are you sure of it?” Georgiana asked nervously, glancing around the music room as if someone was going to appear out of nowhere and laugh at her poor performance.

“Rest assured. You will be dancing flawlessly at the end of the day” Nesta gave her a reassuring smile “I am going to take the male role, so please place your hand on my shoulder.”

Georgiana did as instructed, and soon they were dancing.

“You just need to have fun and relax” Nesta said, making Georgiana twirl “Even if you do not know the steps but act like you do nobody will blink. Dancing is not something that is supposed to be suffocating, but to free you.”

“You mean like this?” the young girl asked, and did a step completely opposite of what was expected in a waltz that made Nesta laugh and follow her.

In no time they were not dancing the waltz but just messing around, their laughs and delighted screams filling the room. They were having so much fun that they were oblivious to Cassian watching them from the door.

The gentlemen had returned to Pemberley and decided to move to the game room, their initial amiable horse riding outing transformed into a racing competition whose draw made Balthazar and Azriel — who revealed themselves to be extremely competitive — propose a rematch in a billiard game.

Cassian soon grew tired of watching them betting who would win, deciding to fetch a book to help distract himself. He was called to the music room by the sound of loud laughs, his heart threatening to burst when he saw Nesta and his sister having so much fun.

“When are we to expect a proposal, my lord?” Mrs. Potts said to him, having stopped to welcome him back when she noticed just who he was watching.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” he answered, a soft smile on his face as Nesta dipped Georgiana, making her laugh even louder.

“It is clear as day to all of us how much that lovely lady means to you” the old headmaid replied “I have never seen you happier since she arrived here.”

“I assure you, there is nothing going on between us.”

“Do not let your fears stop you from being happy” Mrs.Potts motherly said, noticing his bitter tone “You more than anyone deserve to be happy and feel loved. And I noticed how she looks at you, I do not know why you cannot see it.”

“Such busybody staff that I have” was all he said, Mrs.Potts smiling and leaving him alone to continue his watch.

But it appeared their talking had warned them of his presence.

“Brother! Were you spying on us?”

“Far from it Georgie. I thought nobody was home but your laughs made me want to investigate” he stepped inside, closing the door behind him “Balthazar and Az are so competitive they were giving me a headache”

“Nesta was teaching me how to dance” Georgiana said, a bright smile on her face.

“I saw it. She is a great teacher” Cassian said, and Nesta had to look away lest he saw how much happy his words had made her.

“I have a great idea!! Why don’t I play music in the pianoforte and you two dance? That way it would be much easier to see how to dance properly”

Nesta panicked at Georgiana’s words. Last time she had danced with Cassian it had been out of spite for his comment. She would not deny that she had found him a pleasant partner or that she had had fun dancing with him, but Nesta doubted he would want to dance with her again.

However, little did she know Cassian could not have been happier than the moment his sister suggested such a thing.

“That is a wonderful idea Georgie” he said to his sister, all the while planning to write to Rhysand concerning an increase in Georgiana’s dowry.

He had already forgiven her words earlier at breakfast.

Didn’t she say she wanted a new horse? He could arrange for one to be delivered first thing in the morning tomorrow.

Georgiana clapped her hands in excitement, leaving them standing in front of each other as she sat by the piano.

“You are not dancing!” she called out, her fingers moving expertly on the piano keys.

Cassian cleared his throat, offering his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Nesta accepted his hand, placing her other on his shoulder.

“You may”

They fell in that pleasant and calming atmosphere as Georgiana played, Cassian leading her effortlessly, but she felt he was cautious, even a little stiff.

“I do not bite, your grace” Nesta said, daring to tease him “You do not have to be afraid.”

“I would not mind if you did” he said back without thinking, his eyes widening as he realised he had said that out loud.

“I beg your pardon. I did not mean—” Cassian made to release her hand and step away but Nesta gripped his shoulder harder, stopping him.

“Do not tell me the great General Commander is left without a strategy when it comes to some defenceless lady” Nesta appeared to be nonchalant on the outside, but inside she was apprehensive.

What if she had gone too far? What if he did not see her as a friend? What if he was bothered by her teasing?

But to her relief he gave her that smirk of his that made her blood boil, stepping closer to her, their chests touching.

“For you, I have no strategies.”

And they really began to dance.

The music was still there. Georgiana played beautifully and on another occasion Nesta would have wanted nothing more than to just sit and listen all day to her playing.

But the music was no longer the most beautiful thing in existence.

Nesta got lost on him as they danced, the music a faraway background sound.

She got lost on his bright smile and noticed he had dimples.

She got lost on the way he moved with her, a body made for brutality which now moved with grace, keeping up with her.

She got so lost on his warm eyes — more green than brown at the moment — that she felt herself moving even closer, her breath mingling with his.

“Cassian—” his name left her lips without her consent, and she almost froze when she noticed she had not used his title.

Cassian did not care, his smile only getting brighter.

“You may call me informally. We are friends, are we not Nesta?” he said quietly.

“Yes, we are.” she answered, her body tingling all over at the way he said her name, as if it was a prayer to the Mother.

Georgiana — having taken notice of the rather romantic mood — started a new song as soon as the other finished, neither of the pair paying her no mind.

Next morning, Cassian gave her a new horse, the fastest and most sought out in the market. No one had the barest ideia how he managed to get hold of it so fast, or why he was gifting it to Georgiana.

Neither explained the reason, just shaking on it as if it was a business transaction.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @d0riansgray @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @valkyriewarriors @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn @starlightorstarfire @city-of-fae @thalia-2-rose @nestaarcher0n @rowaelinismyotp @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella @alinaleksanders @lysandra-tiara @inardour @hikari274 @fatimafares123 @angelina-figjam @castielspelvis @lanyjoy-13 @firebirdofscythia @illyrianundercover

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

#nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #pride and prejudice AU #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic

146 notes · View notes

puckinghell · 4 years ago

Text

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him. Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model.

----

(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone.

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs.

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.

#elias pettersson #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #elias pettersson fic #elias petterson one shot #elias pettersson imagine #nhl writing

871 notes · View notes

jadedxrealityw · 4 years ago

Text

-My Little Slytherin- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

♡~🐍~♡

Request: hi! could you please do a fluff where the reader gets jealous of another girl flirting with draco and he stays the night in the reader’s dorm room to make it up to her or something like that? you can change the ending if it’s easier for you. thank you~

Kody- “he stays the night in the reader’s dorm room to make it up to her or something like that?” feels smutty, but at the same time not everyone likes smut. So i'll write two alternative endings. A fluff and a smut. I also don’t condone Astoria Greengrass slander, but it’s needed for the story, i’m sorry.

Warning: Sexual and Mature themes. s i n. I mean- yikes. Both characters are 18 in this story.

House: Slytherin

♡~🐍~♡

the best days at Hogwarts were free days. Being able to catch up on missed homework was great, or hang out with friends you didn’t usually see on your busy school schedule, but today you were doing none of those things. You will be spending all day with your lovely boyfriend.

well not all day. Draco had Quidditch practice early this morning, but it should have finished about 10 minutes ago. So you were walking out of Hogwarts and making your way towards the Quidditch field. You had a skip in your step as you walked, excited to have your boyfriend around.

you saw a couple of the Slytherin players land on the ground, high fiving each other and whatnot. ‘guess it was a good practice’ you thought. You gaze around the field, looking for your boyfriend. “You were great out there, Draco” you heard a voice say, turning your head in the direction. You see Astoria Greengrass.

she was holding Draco’s bicep and was practically drooling all over him. You could feel your eye twitch in irritation, she was always around Draco. You swore she was more obsessed with him then Pansy Parkinson was. Which was a lot, but at least Pansy stopped when you two started going out.

the pale boy gave her a polite smile “Thank you, Greengrass” he says and ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. “Aw Draco. You can call me Astoria!” she smiles a sickenly sweet smile. He nods slowly and grabs her hand removing it from his bicep “Thank you, Astoria, but i have to go find my girlfriend” he spoke.

‘damn right he does’ you thought. Astoria puts on a pout “but you never hang out with me anymore. Y/n stole you away from me. Just talk to me for a bit, yeah?” she whines, making her sound like a mandrake root that had just been pulled. You watched Draco’s conflicted face ‘oh he better not’

look you weren’t jealous, okay maybe a little, but it’s only because even after you both started dating Astoria still continued to try and ask out Draco. You understood her feelings, but she was being entirely disrespectful and didn’t consider yours like you did hers.

so you told Draco, until she learned to be a normal person and deal with her feelings that he couldn’t hang out with her. It seems rude, but the girl would take an inch and stretch it for a mile. She needed a Draco detox basically. It’s not like he was being rude to her in like a ‘go away’ way. More ‘sorry, but i have go’

Draco sighed and gave her a small smile “She doesn’t seem to be here yet, so yeah we can talk” and you had lost all hope for your boyfriend right then and there. You regain your composure and activate ‘Petty Y/n’ mode. You walk right past the two, catching the attention of the pale boy.

“Y/n! i thought you weren’t coming?” you heard him say. You turn your head and watch as Astoria’s face twist into one of annoyance ‘yeah whatever bitch’ “Oh you seem to be busy, so i’ll catch up with you later” you say, putting on a smile that Draco knew was fake.

he looks at Astoria then you, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could. You turned and made your way towards Blaise Zabini.

♡~🐍~♡

and just like that you completely blew off the Slytherin boy all day. A couple of times you caught yourself going up to him to apologize, but would turn all the way back around because he was still with Astoria. Letting her flirt with him and grab him. Okay yeah, you were definitely jealous.

it was getting late and you were changing into your pajamas to lay down and get some rest. You slipped the long shirt over your head just as a knock came to your door. Straightening the shirt you realize it was one of Draco’s and sigh ‘stupid boy’ you thought and go over to your door.

grabbing the handle, you turn it and pull it open revealing the pale boy himself “Draco” you spoke, crossing your arms “I take it your still mad at me?” he asks, leaning against the door frame. “and the boys a genius. What do you want? a cookie?” your sarcasm made him roll his grey eyes.

“you let that girl put her filthy hands all over you, Draco” you scowl at him, but it seems to have no effect considering he just smirked in return “Are you jealous Y/n?” he asked, a cocky expression on his face, knowing he already knew the answer.

♡~🐍~♡

Fluff Ending

you feel your face flush and roll your eyes “Me? Jealous? of what? Greengrass? as if.” your face was small under his gaze. He nods once and takes a step towards you “Good, because your my girlfriend. Not her.” he says and places a hand on your face, turning your chin up to look at him.

“i love you Y/n. Not Astoria or anybody else. I’m sorry that she ruined our day together, but it isn’t exactly over is it?” he asked, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. You nod slowly and he walks into your room, reaching back to shut the door behind him. “You also look really cute in my shirt”

“Yep it isn’t. So i’m spending the night with you as an apology. Only if you’ll allow me of course” he says and you sigh contently “Your lucky i love you Draco Malfoy” you spoke, causing the boy to laugh slightly “Indeed i am” and with that he grabs your hand and leads you to your bed.

you crawl in and lay down on the left side and he does the same on the right. You were about to pull the covers over your body when he grabs your hand. “Yes?” you say and he doesn’t respond. Instead he leans into kiss your lips gingerly. The exchange only lasted a couple of seconds.

“i promise i’ll stay away from Astoria. Your right, she is kind of crazy about me” he sighs and you nod “Her and me both” you joke, causing the pale boy to snicker before pulling your body flush against his. “There’s a difference between the both of you though”

you raise a brow curiously “and that is?” you question. “I can only imagine you wearing an engagement ring, wearing a nice black dress as you walk down an aisle towards me, saying i do and having a family with” your caught a bit off guard by his words. He imagined his whole life being with you?

“you just have this all planned out, huh?” he nods confidently. “Of course i do. It’s me after all, you know how dramatic i am. Now, get some sleep Mrs. Malfoy” he spoke, making your face flush again. He notices your pink face and grins slightly “Cute” he mumbles.

you feel his arm wrap itself around you and rub circles on your back, making you hum. You close your eyes leaning into his chest, so close your able to hear the rhythmic beat of his heart. “I love you Draco Malfoy” you mutter and soon enough you were asleep. Draco smiles and closes his eyes as well.

he kept his protective hold on you and felt himself dozing off “I love you too my little Slytherin” and with that the pale boy fell asleep holding his future bride.

♡~🐍~♡

S i n Ending

your face flushed a light pink at his question. “What? no of course not” you sputter out, which didn’t help your argument at all. “Oh you are. That’s really cute” he speaks, his smirk not flattering in the slightest. You roll your eyes “Whatever, don’t you have Astoria to go talk to?”

he rolls his eyes and gazes at your sleepwear “Is that my shirt?” he asked, his hands grabbing at the hem of the shirt “Don’t change the subject Draco!” you swat his hands away making him sigh. “Oh merlin, Y/n you don’t have to be jealous. You know i will always love you”

your stupid face turned a light pink and you turn away “I know” you mumble and feel him grab your hands. “Y/n, look at me” he says and lets go off one of your hands to gently force your chin up to look at him. “How ‘bout i make it up to you, yeah?” his smirk returned to his face.

your face turned a darker shade of pink making the pale boys smirk grow wider “Consent would be lovely” he says in a sing song voice. His hands trailing to your hips to give them a light squeeze. “Y-Yes” you stutter out. The way he had this effect on you was indeed magical.

he captures your lips in his and pull you against his chest. You begin to respond to his rouch kisses with your own, but pull away once you remember that the door was open “the door” you huff out and he uses his foot to push it closed.

then reaches behind it to turn the lock, locking the door. Draco turns back to look at you and smiles before going into kiss you again. The kiss is full of passion and very needy, which you were at this point. The pale boy started to back you up into the foot of your bed.

as you were about to pull away from the kiss Draco grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you from the ground to throw you on your bed. You landed on the bed with a ‘oof’ sound and prop yourself up on your elbows to look up at him. “You look so cute disheveled like that” he coos.

he then crawls over you, straddling your hips as he dips down to your neck. Starting to nip at the sensitive skin, you let out a small whine. You could practically feel the smirk that formed on his face when he heard you. He pulls away to lift your- well his shirt that you were wearing over your head.

he stopped his movements to take in your choice of bra and underwear. “I certainly know i’m going to enjoy this” his voice was low and raspy, need dripping off of every word. You simply observed as he placed a kiss between the valley of your breast and went lower and lower

he left purple love bites in his path until he reached the hem of your underwear. You felt his finger run along your clothed area, making you shiver “Already so wet for me, darling” he hums and hooks his finger into the waistband, pulling them down skillfully.

when they reach your ankles he places a kiss on your caff before throwing them on the floor. “Now, where was i?” he asked and looked down at your now exposed lower half “ah yes, that’s right” the pale boy leans down and plants a kiss on your bundle of nerves, making you squirm under him.

you could hear his cocky laugh as you stare up at the ceiling, unable to look towards the boy. “Eyes on me, love” his voice had an demanding tone and slowly, but surely you look down at him. He gives you a innocent smile “Good” and grabs your thighs, placing them over his shoulders.

you didn’t get a chance to react as the boy licked a long stripe along your core “how sweet” he mumbles all you could do was stare as the Slytherin worked his mouth on you, leaving you a moaning mess under him.

your hand went to his hair to tangle themselves in his platinum blond mess. Your hips began to buck up, trying to get more friction against your lower region. Draco used his hand to hold your hips against the bed “Keep still” he growls and uses his tongue to prod at your entrance.

you let out a huff of pleasure as he pushes the wet muscle inside you “Draco” you breathe out, making the Slytherin boy smirk again “I like hearing my name come from you in a such a lewd way” you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach as he continues his actions.

“Draco i-”

“Let it all out my little Slytherin”

and you felt the knot burst, your release coming in a wave of euphoria that crashes over your body. “So sweet” you heard him say as he sits up, wiping his chin from you. “Now, let’s sleep” he says, going back to his casual demeanour. You blink a couple times as you sit up as well

he gets up from the bed and begins to look at the ground “What?” you ask and he picks something off the ground “Tonight was about you, not me. Plus i have you all morning tomorrow” he sends you a wink and tosses your underwear to you, which you start to put on.

“I need my shirt” you say, pulling the undergarment over your area. Draco grabs the bottom of his shirt and hands you it, leaving him topless ‘woah’ “I rather you wear that one” he smiles at you and you snicker before slipping the shirt over your head.

Draco climbs in the bed next to you and pulls you down to lay with him. “Hmm now sleep Y/n. You won’t be doing a lot of that tomorrow” he says, his tone going deeper. You roll your eyes as you feel him pull the sheets over you two. “Night darling” he mumbles and kisses the side of your face.

you smile and lay your head on his chest “Night Dray”

♡~🐍~♡

Kody- HAHAHAHA i suck at writing this, but i hope you enjoyed. Anyways, peace.

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco x y/n #draco x you #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #slytherin #smut #hp #harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction #astoria greengrass

424 notes · View notes

acastleintheclouds · 3 years ago

Text

Here’s a little teaser of the Supernatural/Fate crossover I’m working on. Especially for @skloomdumpster. Because I want her to suffer!!! xD

“Balls! Would it hurt you to pick up when you’re needed?” grumbled Bobby Singer, throwing his phone down on the table.

Then he shrugged, resigned, walked to the weapon storage and began packing. He was just checking the sharpness level of the machete — quite unnecessarily, because he had sharpened it himself a few days ago, just in case — when he heard loud pounding on the door. Bobby frowned and turned the machete in his hand. The sound was coming from the back door, which ruled out random visitors.

Using the light coming from the adjacent room, Bobby approached slowly and positioned himself in such a way that the opening door would conceal the hand that was still holding the blade. Only then he turned the handle.

A fraction of a second later, he had to drop the weapon barely in time to catch a man who almost fell into his arms the moment the door gave way. Fortunately, Bobby recognized the visitor immediately, otherwise he might have made use of his machete, and that would not benefit either of them.

“Sorry,” muttered Saul Silva, embarrassed, straightening up hastily and grabbing the doorframe to regain his balance.

“You look awful,” Bobby remarked, stepping back to let the visitor in, but staying close enough to help in case the man staggered again.

Silva involuntarily glanced down at the blood-soaked makeshift bandage on his thigh, but in truth, the sight of his pale face, dark circles under his eyes and his almost blank gaze itself was enough to elicit a similar comment.

“Sit down.” Bobby grabbed the nearest stool and brought it to the hallway, then went to the kitchen to fetch a flask of water (holy, of course) and a box of old, but still more or less eatable cookies. He tossed both to the visitor, waited to watch Silva empty the canteen in a few greedy sips, then nodded approvingly and turned to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

When he returned, Silva had already moved to a much more comfortable armchair in the living room. Now, grimacing slightly, he was removing the old dressing. When he saw Bobby, he nodded curtly and reached for the first aid kit, but Bobby firmly swatted his hand away and took over the role of the nurse himself. Silva watched him for a moment, then slumped back, closed his eyes, and finally relaxed a little.

“I need new documents,” he said quietly after a long moment, still not opening his eyes. “And a car. Some money would also be useful, I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

Bobby nodded, and when he realized Silva couldn't see him, he cleared his throat and said,

“It can be arranged. Just for you or for Farah Dowling too?”

Silva didn't answer for a long moment, and Bobby looked up to make sure his companion hadn’t passed out in the meantime, but the man's eyes were open again.

“Only me,” he finally confirmed, then turned his head away and reached for the cookies, making it a clear sign that Bobby couldn't count on more information.

Bobby nodded again, automatically. Working in silence, he finished bandaging Silva’s leg and rose from his knees. Only then did his gaze fall on the duffle bag he had dumped on the sofa, and on the machete lying next to it.

“Balls,” he muttered to himself. “Look, Silva, I have an urgent case in Missouri, vampires, and I can't get through anybody else who might be around. It’ll take a while to prepare the fake ID anyway, and you really look like shit, so maybe just stay here for a few days and rest until I come back?”

Silva looked as if he was starting to fall asleep, but after Bobby's words he straightened up and announced in a firm tone:

“I'm going with you.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at the fresh bandage on his companion's leg. Silva answered with hint of a smile.

"I've had worse. I’ll be alright.”

At least the first part of the statement wasn’t hard to believe, but that didn't mean Bobby was going to yield so easily.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean you have to bleed out in my car," he snorted. “I cleaned it yesterday, ya know?”

Silva got up without a word and took one tentative step to see if he was able to lean on his injured leg. The test seemed to be successful, because his next few steps were relatively confident as he walked towards the sofa and reached for the machete. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, then swung it skillfully a couple of times as if to test it. Finally, he turned towards Bobby with a defiant look in his eyes.

“It's not a sword, ya know?” Bobby scoffed at him in response. Then he shrugged. After all, he had a whole vampire nest to deal with, it was always better to have some backup. “Okay, maybe it’d be best to keep an eye on you, looks like you’ve lost some blood after all. But I don’t want any hero shit, understood?”

Silva nodded.

“Understood. But pack another…” he raised the machete and eyed it again, frowning.

“What, you don't have machetes in your magical world?” Bobby teased in reply, but still he headed for the secret weapon storage to get one of his spare blades. On his way back, he got another idea, so he hurriedly went upstairs, where he managed to find a pair of tracksuit bottoms once left there by Sam Winchester.

“Here.” He tossed them to Silva when he got downstairs. “Not mine, they belong to one Sasquatch who comes here sometimes”, he explained in response to the critical look with which Silva fixed the trousers. “He is a bit taller than you, but I think they should fit. More or less. And at least there's no blood on them.”

Silva nodded and obediently began changing his clothes.

“Have you got any jumper or shirt?” he asked after a moment. “I'd rather not run around the First World with the Alfea crest on my sleeve.”

“I don't think running is an option at all in your state,” Bobby remarked in a mocking tone. “I'll find something. Oh, and since we’re running late anyway, please do us both a favour and go wash yourself a bit. Towels are in the cupboard next to the sink.”

#supernatural #fate: the winx saga #fate the winx saga #bobby singer #saul silva #fanfiction #my fics #teaser

16 notes · View notes

polpoka · 3 years ago

Text

Neighbor Au

Characters- Kim Rok Soo, Alberu Crossman, Lee Soo Hyuk, Choi Jung Soo, Tasha

Ratings- K+

Shippings- Kimrokberu

Type- (Fluff)

Part 5

((CW. mentioned racism))

The tray made a harsh clink as Alberu set it in front of Taerang, who was sitting on the lignum vitae chair, on the coffee table which formed a complete set with the said chair.

“So, sir, in the end,” Taerang took a pause to sip on the tea the host had provided, though he was the junior, “Did you tell him your name?”

Alberu averted his eyes, before answering in a low voice, “...Yes.”

Taerang sighed. He cared about his employer a lot, especially because of the fact that they had known each other for quite some time, and in that time, he had come to realize rather early on, that Alberu was rather soft on the inside, despite his harsh mannerisms and stern appearance. He cared far too deeply for people and always hesitated to let a connection go. It would be bad in their line of work, but well, sometimes it was necessary.

He remembered the way the younger college student had always shook his hand rather than barking at him and treating him like a meagre guard. Even though he was one, who had been given to him as a present for his achievements by his former ‘owner’, Angelica and right before Choi Jung Gun, and before that his guardian, Ahn Mon Ran.

He was always viewed as a tool, almost always at least, Ahn Mon Ran had no other option but to give him to Choi Jung Gun because of the hand the man had on him.

He asked once again, “Did you say anything that even remotely points out the fact that made the person think that you’re part of the elite Crossman family, and not your average joe?”

Alberu still didn’t meet Taerang’s eyes. Taerang knew what that meant and unfortunately Alberu did too.

Alberu struggled to meet Taerang’s eyes, “I’m sorry, hyung-”

“Don’t call me that right now, sir. You know you’re in trouble. Big time.”

Taerang took a sip of his lavender tea which had been poured til the brim of the teacup, “You were the one who originally asked for these rules to be made, and we can’t break them, since you specifically gave us instructions not to. No matter what you say at the time.”

Taerang looked at the man who was fidgeting anxiously. He knew why these rules were a safety precaution, and he didn’t want Alberu to go through that experience again. Well, technically speaking, he wasn’t there but he was told the story, and he didn’t like it either way, not one bit.

Alberu also knew the reasons, and the repercussions, and yet it felt horrible. He knew why this had happened, and he didn’t want it to happen again but still. He looked at the table silently for a moment, thinking about the various possibilities which seemed to end with his heartbreak.

Kim Rok Soo didn’t seem like the guy who would take advantage of him, he just didn’t. Not to mention, the connection- the connection felt as if he was a gust of wind that had finally found his tree, but he knew that in the end, this was the best move he could play. If he stayed, he had no idea what to do.

Would he confront Kim Rok Soo?

Would he pretend never to see him again, despite knowing that his heart longed for the other?

That would just be running away, but Alberu wasn’t even sure what Kim Rok Soo would want. He thought that Kim Rok Soo was free, and that he, a caged bird could never compare, even if he liquidised all his assets he couldn’t compare with that man, and so, he might as well not trouble the other.

Alberu was determined, yet this time he felt like he couldn’t win. A feeling he hadn’t felt for a long time. It reminded him of the time he had to deal with his dad, and those were memories he would rather not recall, but he was sure a broken person like him didn’t deserve Kim Rok Soo.

After this short exchange with himself, he looked at Taerang, his eyes looked soulless, and his voice was brittle as he spoke, “So let’s go through with it.”

Taerang felt something inside of him break, he couldn’t do anything but agree, “...Yes, let’s go through, sir.”

Alberu took a short sip of the liquid that had been sitting in front of him untouched, “Ah look, it’s gone cold.”

***

Kim Rok Soo’s apartment was in an overly pristine condition, despite it normally being clean, Choi Jung Soo could tell that he had cleaned the place intensely a couple of hours earlier. The yellow evening lights had been switched on a few hours ago and the three men were sitting on the floor on a neatly maintained rug, with more than an average number of bottles that three men should consume in a single night being kept on the table. It seemed that they had all acknowledged that the only function of the table right now was to act as storage.

“Rok Soo-ya?” Choi Jung Soo asked, waving his hand over the other’s face.

“Ah,” Kim Rok Soo blinked, adjusting his eyes to the light, before replying to the call of this man, “Yes?”

Choi Jung Soo took a seat next to him and could easily notice a couple of things that were odd off the bat. For example, the eyebags were deeper, he wasn’t paying attention at all, which even when separated from these discrepancies was odd. Not to mention he was drinking a lot, almost as if he was trying to get drunk. Even though Choi Jung Soo knew that Kim Rok Soo was aware of his own tolerance, which was inhumanly high, something must have happened and it was definitely not a good thing, seeing as the way Kim Rok Soo looked and acted.

Choi Jung Soo patted the other’s head gently, you could hear the tease in his tone, “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t really want to talk about it…Could you pour another one?” the other responded with a burnt out tone, letting the hand rest there.

‘I guess it didn’t go well.’ Choi Jung Soo poured another cup for himself, using the nearest half filled bottle, before filling Kim Rok Soo’s cup.

Lee Soo Hyuk on the other hand, was drinking a little too much than what a forty year old liver could take. He’d drunk two bottles. Downing them like they’re soup, well not like his dongsaeng hadn’t drunk about three bottles of the same type of strong alcohol in one sitting.

‘Really, the people around me really don’t take care of themselves,’ thought Choi Jung Soo drinking down his seventh cup of scotch. He sighed and looked at Kim Rok Soo, he was sure it was a rejection.

Kim Rok Soo felt like throwing up. He wanted to throw up all his feelings related to his former neighbor. It had only been a day, he wasn’t that close- So it wouldn’t be hard at all, if that was the case, right?

“Who am I kidding, of course not.” he murmured.

“Hmm?” the one beside him asked, “Is something wron-” Before Choi Jung Soo could finish his question, he was tackled with a hug from the one he had presumed to be on the other end of the table.

“Rok Soo yaaaaa~ Don’t worry, these kinds of things will always happen.”

Choi Jung Soo struggled to escape the bear hug he had, without his knowledge, stepped into. “Hyung- Kim Rok Soo is there- There-” he tried to point to the clearly dispirited Kim Rok Soo, failing and being pinned to the floor, while Lee Soo Hyuk fell asleep on him.

Gradually, Choi Jung Soo too, started losing consciousness, albeit something he did not sign up for, and drifting to sleep, while Kim Rok Soo was sitting in the end of the line of drunkards, well two pass outs and one drunk.

Kim Rok Soo shuffled to get the two blankets to cover his hyungs before getting his own to join in on the pile of corpses. He shifted the table a bit, and tucked himself to make the rug a little more comfortable to lie on. He tried to close his eyes, but he simply couldn’t. His mind was haunted by the brunette, and not in a good way. He turned to a couch, which brought back the incident that occured day before yesterday. He shifted once more, this time to look at the faces of his hyungs, this again reminded him of the time they were so excited about the whole soulmate jamboree.

Everything reminded Kim Rok Soo of Alberu, and he didn’t like it. No matter how hard he tried he could simply not forget the man. He had a striking appearance and a discernable mark on his life, despite them knowing each other for a day.

They hadn’t met each other since Kim Rok Soo had moved here, which was 6 years ago. Well, that was partly Kim Rok Soo’s fault for thinking that it was too much work to meet his neighbours, and he just ended it with seeing his then 24-year-old neighbour, who was too busy with his work once.

Now, he regretted his decision. If only he had met him earlier. If only he hadn’t ignored his neighbour. These thoughts were the only ones going through his head that night, as he kept on twisting and turning, before finally finding a comfortable position to sleep in.

***

Alberu got up to an undesired nostalgia of mahogany furniture and neatly lined bookshelves along with the scent of cookies permeating the room. It wasn’t dense but rather a soft scent, being accompanied by a denser scent of black coffee.

What was strange, was the fact that there was no coffee in the vicinity, and he knew his aunt, much like him, leaned towards tea. He was a bit curious about the fragrance but didn’t want to give it much thought as his brain was more preoccupied with other means- Kim Rok Soo.

How would he deal with him?

Alberu was fully aware of what a jerk he was being. He knew that it had been very unfair of him to just straight up leave.

“Aunt Tasha-” he called out to the similar looking black haired woman, her eyes glistened. Her hair was cut short which gave her a gentle look.

“Yes?” she answered with a hum.

“So…” he couldn’t help but fidget in worry, was he allowed to ask such a thing in the first place? He knew fully well that what his aunt was doing was for his best interests, for his sake.

Yet, it bugged him.

He wanted to see the other man desperately.

It nagged at him.

Like a gnawing frostbite that never seemed to go away.

“Speak up, Alberu. You know I’m willing to listen so take your time.”

Alberu looked at her, always supportive of him no matter what he wanted to do. Always watching, and he felt guilty about that.

Alberu gripped his arm, he told himself that he had to remain firm. This was just a simple and easy task, so what was he getting all anxious about?

“I think I found my soulmate,” Alberu blurted out, wanting to get it over with. It made him feel a bit too bizarre, a feeling he didn't enjoy. He thought a little about the man, his calming, and sarcastic attitude. It made him smile lovingly and softly, it was almost invisible.

When he saw Tasha’s eyes, his smile fell apart, she didn’t meet his eyes with the same gaze he did. Her face was instead painted with a base of shock, and another which was an even more unfavourable expression on it; outrage.

One glance is all it took for Tasha to assess the situation. She had already been informed by Taerang about his leaked identity, which in itself had been surprising. Tasha could smell the coffee and cookies off her nephew. She didn’t know how it got there since they had no coffee at home, and she knew her nephew didn’t drink coffee, and buttered chocolate cookies. It would have been plausible if he hadn’t come out of the bedroom.

She knew what this meant, the boy had found his soulmate, but she also knew one thing– you could have problems with your past lover. It was like any relationship, simply adding in the strong connection. It wasn’t that big of a deal as people made it up to be.

After all, her sister had also been in a similar kind of relationship and she easily got replaced. Zed had simply thrown her away when he realized that his soul mark had appeared again. It was plausible that the bad luck might have carried from the mother to the son. Even though deep down, she was sure that wasn’t the case. She was worried, and terribly, terribly protective of her nephew, for he was the only one part of her sister that had remained in the world of the living. Being a soulmate had led to her sister’s heartbreak and eventual death, and perhaps it wouldn’t be as severe in Alberu’s case, but he had suffered enough after his mother’s death, she concluded.

“You found a soulmate?” she asked, her expression now a bit less animated than her previous one, but Alberu could tell that she was not pleased one bit.

He had a rough idea why but he wasn’t all that into the details. He was young when his mother and ‘father’ divorced, and he knew how his mother had committed suicide after a weeks of the unusual event. After that, he knew how his life had spiralled down to. She died without gaining custody of her child because Alberu’s talents had been noteworthy and rather eye-catching and Zed thought the boy would fetch a pretty price as a showpiece.

He wasn’t wrong per se, but the exposure to the life of adults had dimmed his young eyes that had been previously filled with life. He had gotten used to going days without proper food and water, and that he wasn’t allowed anything as an emotional support. He wasn’t allowed to have a weakness, if he wanted to stay with his worth.

He had been locked, neglected, even abused if his scores or position went a bit under than perfect. Well, that was at first, then it escalated to him being the outsider of the ‘family’.

Alberu had noted at the ripe age of eighteen, the people he lived with were hypocrites. In private they would always say the opposite of what they said under the public eye.

‘The shame of this house.’

‘The joy of our family.’

‘You dirty leech. Shouldn’t you be working non-stop? You live here rent free anyway.’

‘He’s always such a darling brother of mine. I simply worry that he works too hard for his own good.’

‘Disgusting. That skin of yours looks so ugly, maybe it’d be better if we got rid of it’

‘He looks so handsome too! He looks just like father, well his skin tone doesn’t matter.’

‘Don’t you get it? You don’t have a place here.’

‘Even though he looks different, he fits right in. Exactly, it's petty to not care about someone who shares the same blood as your sons just because they have a different skin tone.’

They weren’t memories he would want to remember at all, even though they constantly played on his mind like a broken record player. Constantly.

That’s why he trusted his Aunt’s judgement, for she was the only one who had helped him get out of that hellhole. It was her acceptance that Alberu wanted the most.

Alberu nodded, in return to which Tasha’s unamusement became even more apparent with a long sigh. She was very reluctant to entrust her nephew in anyone’s hand, and the thought of him getting used made her boil over with rage, and so she simply cut off the communication between the two, by a few words, “Alberu, I don’t approve.”

***

Kim Rok Soo grumbled at the white noise that was playing on repeat in the background. He could hear the chattering that was going on between the two other men in the house. He laid on the makeshift bed until he heard a ringtone. A particular ringtone which made him sure of the person on the other line.

‘Basen.’

He stretched his hand out to reach his phone, still remaining tucked in his blanket and refusing to move. By the third ring of the phone, he had successfully maneuvered himself in a way that he could stay comfortable and pick up the phone. He finally received it.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end greeted Kim Rok Soo.

Kim Rok Soo, still groggy and voice still unsettled, spoke in a lower tone than his usual. It sounded synonymous to the croak of a frog, “Good morning Basen. What makes you call this early?”

Basen knew that tone belonged to his uncle, and he also knew that this was the tone of voice he had in the morning before he had even gotten up from bed. He’d found out so from the several sleepovers he had with him. Still it was odd to hear his voice this deep. Had his Ahjussi been drinking? “Uncle Rok Soo, how much did you drink last night?”

“Why do you ask?” Kim Rok Soo said, shuffling in the sheets, shifting his movements ever so slightly to stay within the warmth of the blanket that covered him up completely like a cocoon.

“Have you still not gotten up?” Basen asked, his tone a bit shocked.

Kim Rok Soo hummed to give an affirmative response.

Basen sighed, “Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s...” He slurred while reordering his position to face the clock. “Three.”

Basen sighed, his voice then went low as he turned his face away from his phone “Haaaa... What’s that Pen?”

Kim Rok Soo’s ears perked up, “Pen’s there?”

He could hear Basen crack up a bit, “Uncle Rok Soo, you attended the wedding, didn’t you? We’re married, so of course we’re living together.”

Kim Rok Soo relaxed again remembering the joyous event that had taken place a month ago, “Ah, yeah yeah.”

Basen slid the phone between his ear and shoulder, “Uncle, are you still out of it?”

Kim Rok Soo twisted his head, cocking it out of the blanket. “Maybe,” he yawned.

“Rok Soo-ya? You’re finally up?” Kim Rok Soo saw Lee Soo Hyuk standing in front of him.

“Um, yeah.” Kim Rok Soo lazily replied.

“Ah,” Basen said from the other end, “If Lee Soo Hyuk Ahjussi is there, why not give him the phone, and probably freshen up.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded and handed the phone to Lee Soo Hyuk, while informing the other person about his nephew, “It’s Basen, he wants to talk to you.”

Lee Soo Hyuk’s face quirked up to form a grin, “It’s been a long time since he’s talked to me, has he been busy with his lover?”

Kim Rok Soo looked over and casually answered,“Their honeymoon did get over a few weeks earlier. So it is a possibility.”

Lee Soo Hyuk sighed while taking the phone from Kim Rok Soo, “Aiya, I really am getting old. Everyone around me is getting married or starting to date someone. Ah, the woes of an old man.”

He heard an annoyed voice from the far side of the kitchen, “Did you forget that you’ve been with your lover for over 15 years, Mr. old man?”

The mention of Lee Soo Hyuk’s lover made Kim Rok Soo think about his friend, “Ah, I need to talk about the details about the meeting with Beacrox.”

Lee Soo Hyuk turned to him, his head tilted to the right, “He has been talking about that too. Do you have something in mind for the day?”

Kim Rok Soo could feel the headache rushing over him like a tidal wave, “I'll talk later, I need to wash my face and brush.”

“Oh wait, before you go-” Lee Soo Hyuk stopped him, causing Kim Rok Soo to turn, “You kinda smell like aloe vera? I didn’t know you kept any plants here?”

Kim Rok Soo pulled his t-shirt to sniff it, indeed, it smelled like the said succulent. He furrowed his eyebrows. It was odd, but it was too much for his woozy head to think about.

He pulled himself out of the mattress and walked to the bathroom, lazily scratching his hay-like hair. His eyes lazily lolled around, scanning the surroundings of his own apartment as if it was something foreign. He sighed, standing there for a moment facing his reflection in the mirror.

He ran his fingers through the messy strands that gently lay on the shoulder, remembering Alberu’s fingers cold touch. They were hardened and felt like they had been holding a pen their entire life, never wanting to try anything else, though Kim Rok Soo thought that Alberu merely never got the time to engage in hobbies.

‘That’s not how hair gel works, hyung.’

He remembered the annoyed tone the man could endlessly fill his voice with. He splashed some water on his eyes, still wondering where the other had gone. It would be quite foolish to disappear if he were fearing rejection, if that is the reason the dark man had disappeared, he would think of the said man to be quite dense to not recognize Kim Rok Soo’s feelings towards himself.

***

Alberu tried to keep the volume down as he washed the dishes in the empty and eerily huge villa’s secluded kitchen. To be fair, it wasn’t empty, there were servants and Aunt Tasha was lounging in the living room.

His mind was currently occupied with his aunt’s reaction.

He didn’t expect such a strong rejection since he believed his aunt would be a little more liberal towards this aspect.

However, Alberu knew the reason why his aunt was overprotective since he was well aware of what happened to his mother. Sure, he understood why she didn’t want him to date Kim Rok Soo, but she also refused to acknowledge that his soulmate was different than his mother’s and it wasn’t fair to not give him a chance. Or at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Bitten once, twice as shy, I guess.’ He thought, sighing.

He simply wanted to meet Kim Rok Soo, simply wanted to check something, a simple gut feeling.

An instinct.

Normally, he would have ignored it, but it was a sensation that he couldn’t help but dwell upon. It wasn’t gripping, more like a mild fever that had come over him. He thought that it was something that would easily go away and not bother him anymore, yet it stuck persistently, that it can’t help but get noticed no matter how much he tried to look the other way.

It felt real and that scared Alberu.

He didn’t hate the feeling of love.

It was just that, he was so scared of being involved with it, that it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The so-called love he knew was only based on the last sole affection he’s gotten from his mother.

He believed that Kim Rok Soo wouldn’t be the kind of person to ‘love’ him. Alberu wasn’t the type to have gotten everything in his life in a neatly packaged bow, and that included his relationships all the more.

Love? He couldn't trust it nor did he have the guts to risk letting the feeling take over him.

Any relationship he tried to maintain didn’t end on a good note, for numerous reasons. Even though his face wasn’t shown and he had a fake surname, his previous partners always knew he was rich. His arranged marriage partners thought of him as a mere money milking tool or someone who would just settle for just a crumb of bread.

The idea of that appalled Alberu. Somehow he couldn’t think of it in a good light. He didn’t want to be the sort of person who would force someone to be with him just for his money.

If that was the case he was better off without anyone.

But why was it that he couldn’t forget about him?

That man, who had seen him in his most vulnerable state had simply accepted it. Had waved off the thought that he was odd or unbelonging. He had given him the chance to feel these new sets of emotions he thought he would never experience in his lifetime.

Unbeknownst to Alberu, his hands were working fast and intensely out of all the stress. Only when he heard a loud clang was he snapped back to reality. His eyes immediately darted to the cause of the noise, which was a plate that had slipped from his hands and had fallen into the sink.

Alberu stared at it for a bit, sighed and washed it.

It was a good thing it didn’t break.

After neatly placing it in the dryer, he walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in the hall on the coach facing his aunt’s.

She tore her eyes away from the book she was reading to face him. Tasha noticed the lost look in his eyes, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Alberu blinked, turning his gaze away from the table and meeting his aunt’s, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He said, picking up a book lying on the Pacini e Cappellini coffee table to read.

Tasha sighed, sticking a bookmark between her copy of ‘War and Peace’, marking her progress in rereading the classic, “Are you still bothered by it?”

Alberu tried to feign ignorance, “By what?”

“We both know what you’re thinking about.” Tasha knew that he wouldn’t outright address the topic. He was far too self constricted with her for that.

Alberu met her eyes, but still had his eyes glazed over, it was as if he actually had no idea of what his aunt was talking about, “Like I said, what?”

Tasha however, was having none of that, she knew Alberu since he was a baby albeit she was young during those turbulent times. She motioned her hand as if she was pointing to the person in question, “Your soulmate, whoever that may be.”

“Huh.” Alberu mused, making it painfully obvious for Tasha to tell he was unimpressed, “What about my soulmate?”

Tasha, also aware of his current ‘yearnings’ spoke without batting an eye, “You want to meet them.”

“I sure do, but there’s someone who's preventing that, isn’t there?” He said, finally keeping his book down and sending his aunt a glare that was trying very hard not to reveal its true intentions.

Tasha got annoyed at the misconception Alberu had of her. She was doing this for him. How couldn’t he not get it?“ You know that I’m doing this for your sake. Your mother died because–”

“–Of her soulmate.” Alberu completed her sentence. He had heard it for so many times he was sure that was what the next few words entailed. He sighed.

“Aunt,” He said in a chilling voice, he was the closest to his aunt but there was definitely a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Not everything was about his mother. He was well aware how his mother’s death had unfolded but not everyone was like his father, not everyone was as egregious as that man.

“I understand your concerns but do remember.” He paused to take a good look at his aunt, “I am not my mother,” he took another pause “and I never will be.”

Alberu could never be his mother. His mother was pure, and charismatic, not to mention she was the incarnation of beauty itself. Never attempting any foul means, she tried hard. She died protecting him.

And he could never be, not even an inch close to being as great as her. Or so he believed.

Tasha looked the other way, “I know that…but it still scares me. What if they lose interest in you and desert you–”

Alberu sighed again. The next few words he had said out of the simple motivation to prove Tasha wrong about soulmates, and snag a lover in one quick move. “Alright, since you are so bothered by the fact that they’ll cheat on me or lose interest. Let me put forward the idea of a bet. I’ll not visit my soulmate for two months and after those two months, let’s see whether they get over me in that period of time.” ‘–well formally, I won’t be meeting him.’

Alberu thought about it for a moment. He would use himself and Kim Rok Soo as an experiment. He set a bet like that out of impulse to prove her wrong. Even though he wouldn’t mind if he had really moved on, a part of him wanted to know the outcome to all this as well.

If fate would really allow them to be together, or would it be another curse that had befallen since his mother’s time?

Would things be different?

He didn’t know the answer to that. That was why he did this. That was why he made this stupid bet to at least convince himself that it was alright for him to love, or just have believed in his Aunt’s words in the first place.

Alberu was not the type to easily trust people but this time he wanted to try.

He wanted to try and place a bit of his faith on that man.

Tasha, who was also right at the end of her wits from this conversation, agreed in a fit of confusion and annoyance with the flow of the conversation, wanting it to end, “Ok, fine. Let’s do just that. When should we start?”

Alberu asked, also getting riled up, “How about right this second?”

Tasha leaned back, “Alright then. For 2 months which start at 5pm December 8th, 2XXX until 5pm February 8th, 2XXX(+1). Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Ok then. Taerang, write this down.” Tasha crossed her arms together, her eyes still lingering at her nephew who broke eye contact.

“Yes ma’am.” The mostly stationary man, who had been sitting on the chair beside Alberu finally spoke.

‘Now that this was sorted,’ thought Alberu, ‘I have to contact him, I guess. Hoo boy, this is gonna be a whole different game to play.’

#taerang tcf #alberu crosman #alberu #alberu crossman #cale #cale henituse #kim rok soo #tcf krs #tcf #tcf cjs #choi jung soo #tcf lsh #lee soo hyuk #trash of the count's family #tasha tcf #tcf GoD #tcf GoS

27 notes · View notes

emachinescat · 3 years ago

Text

Mama Bear

A Tales of Arcadia Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat @whumptober2021 day 3 - Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... ("who did this to you?")

Summary: After Jim’s fight with Draal, his mom sees his bruises, and Mama Bear is unleashed. Post-Win, Lose, or Draal.

Whumpee: Jim

Words: 2,603

Note: This fic was inspired by what Barbara said in 1x13 about Jim coming home from school covered in bruises. As is my way, I took the idea and ran with it.

TW: none

Barbara Lake had always considered herself incredibly lucky that her son turned out as well as he did. It wasn’t her own doing, she was sure of that – she always did the best she could, but being a single mom meant she’d had to work extra shifts to support her small family and never felt like she was there enough.

No, Jim was just a really good kid.

Not many moms could boast that their sixteen-year-old son could cook better than they could, let alone that they made gourmet lunches and dinners (and breakfasts, on most weekends), not just willingly, but happily. And not many moms could brag that their sixteen-year-old son did the dishes or kept the house clean or put aside his own wants and dreams to take care of his overworked mother. Who got up early to leave flowers on their bedside table after a long night at work, or who tucked them in after they fell asleep on top of the covers, still in their scrubs, because they’d been too exhausted to do anything else.

Barbara tried not to brag too much about Jim. She knew that he did have a social life of his own, and as far as she could tell, he was fairly well liked at school and she didn’t want to embarrass him if any of his friends found out just how much he doted on his mother. But sometimes she couldn’t help it, and she’d find herself rambling to her beautician or the nurses at the hospital or sometimes even a long-suffering patient about how her son was one-of-a-kind. He didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t fight, didn’t skip school, and almost never missed curfew.

Until one day, he did.

It wasn’t even like it was a gradual change. There was no slow fade. She didn’t watch him slowly descend into bad grades or late nights or midnight calls about museum break-ins. There were no signs. He went to bed one day, the same as ever, and then suddenly he was getting into trouble at school, getting into fist fights, missing curfew, breaking into museums in the dead of night. Not only that but his grades – which had always been slightly higher than average – had plummeted, and he’d developed dark circles under his eyes like he never slept and sometimes he moved around like he was an eighty-year-old man and though his good nature and kind heart remained, it seemed strained at times. He still did sweet things for her, but not as often.

At first, she’d thought he was burning the proverbial candle at both ends and his lack of sleep was taking a toll on his mental and physical health. As a doctor, she’d seen firsthand what lack of sleep could do to a person. Their entire personality would change, or fizzle out, and their judgment would be severely impaired.

But then she’d seen the bruises and her sleep-loss theory flew out of the window.

***

Two weeks ago

Barbara thought boundaries and independence were a valuable part of a child’s development, so she always knocked before she entered Jim’s room. Of course, if he were gone, she wouldn’t bother.

On this particular day – one of her rare days off – she was sure he wasn’t home. She hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t seen his bike propped up against the side of the house or in the garage. The container of store-bought chocolate chip cookies (she had neither the time nor skill to bake them herself) she’d left out for him hadn’t been touched. For all appearances, Jim hadn’t gotten home from school yet.

And so, she didn’t knock as she approached his bedroom door with a laundry basket propped on her hip. Jim always did his own laundry, but she’d seen how tired and overworked he’d been lately and wanted to ease his burden however she could.

The sight that greeted her when she nudged open the door and flipped on the light was one that would stick with her, tattooed onto her mind’s eye, for the rest of her life.

Jim was asleep on top of his unmade bed. It looked like he’d gotten halfway undressed and then decided to forgo comfort for sleep, and lay on his stomach in only his jeans. One shoe was on, the other halfway under the bed. But what arrested her attention so violently was the great rainbow of bruises arching across his back and stretched around his side, disappearing beneath his stomach where he lay on the bed.

She couldn’t help herself. A horrified shriek escaped her, and Jim sprung up so quickly it made her head spin. The panicked look in his eyes did not escape her notice, nor did the way he made a desperate reach for his pocket, like he was trying to grab something – trying to defend himself? When he saw who was in his room, and that they were alone, and that there was no danger, the raw fear faded, though a hint of panic remained.

“Mom!” he squawked, crossing his arms across his chest like that would be enough to hide the dizzying array of green, purple, yellow, and black that blanketed his chest. She noticed with surprise the lean muscles of his arms. Jim had always been fit, but never strong. He’d never said anything about a gym and he’d never been serious about sports, but she filed this information away for later and focused on the problem at hand.

Her stomach twisted as her doctor’s eyes traveled slowly, deliberately down her son’s bare torso. The bruises were worse on his stomach and chest, something she hadn’t thought possible, and she realized with horror that some of them were days, maybe weeks, older than others. This – whatever this was – was not an isolated incident.

Rage like she’d never felt before, like the protective energy of all mothers who had come before her collected into one finely-honed sword, pierced her soul as she came to the only conclusion that made any logical sense: Someone had done this to her son.

When she spoke, she barely recognized her own voice, cold as the furthest depth of the ocean, shaking with unmitigated fury.

“Who did this to you?”

Jim’s answer didn’t surprise her, but she also didn’t believe it for a second. “No one. It… was an accident.” She watched, lips crammed together in an impossibly thin line, teeth grinding against one another, her hands trembling with a righteous anger she had no outlet for, as Jim slowly reached out for the shirt he’d left in a heap at the end of the bed, the other arm still wrapped protectively around his torso. She didn’t stop him. She would absolutely be examining his injuries fully before the evening was done, but for now, she’d seen enough. The sight of her son’s bruised flesh would burn in her memory forever, more clearly than when she saw it right in front of her.

Skittishly, like a cat caught sniffing around back alley garbage cans, he snatched up the shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head. He couldn’t hide the flinch as he raised his arms to pull the fabric over his head. As he did so, she got the full view of his torso, and the wild, impossible thought flitted through her mind that it almost looked like some giant hand had wrapped around his body and squeezed. The image, however nonsensical, sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Her anger swelled again, and the crest of it burst forth, no longer containable, and the only person she could release it on was the one who was actively lying to her.

“James Lake, Jr. – do you think I’m an idiot?!”

Jim froze, his hands stilling completely as he adjusted the neck of his tee. He had never heard his mother direct such cold fury at anyone, let alone himself. “W-what? Of course not, Mom. I just–”

“You expect me to believe that you accidentally hurt yourself this badly? That you woke up one morning and you were covered in bruises? Jim, I’m a doctor. I see people come in for less than this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have fractured ribs.” Now the anger was giving way to panic. “And don’t think that I haven’t noticed that some bruises are newer than others. This isn’t something that just ‘happened’ and it’s not an accident. So tell me. Who – the – hell – did this to my son?”

A small, ridiculous surge of satisfaction bubbled up inside of her as she watched Jim’s mouth fall open. He’d never heard his mother utter a word stronger than darn before. She’d always been very careful about the language she used in front of him. But his condition released something feral inside of her, and it was honestly a bit of a shock that nothing stronger came out.

She watched his face, saw the conflict in his eyes, knew with even more surety that he was hiding something big from her and trying to decide if he was going to answer truthfully. Well, tough luck. He wasn’t leaving his bedroom until he answered her question.

He must have seen this in her eyes, for after a moment, he dropped his gaze. Heavily, he sat down on the foot of his bed and stared down at his hands. “Mom, I… can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

At this, the fear took center stage again, and Barbara fell to her knees in front of her son, cupping his face in her hands. The tears she’d been holding back with such determination threatened to fall at the way he unconsciously leaned into her touch. His eyes closed briefly, and for a moment he was a child again, sniffling from a scraped knee and being comforted by his mother. That moment ended all too quickly, because his scraped knee was actually a bruised and battered torso, and he wasn’t a child anymore, and he was in trouble.

“Jim. Whatever is going on, I promise, I won’t be angry. But someone is hurting you. You can’t deny that. What is happening to my son?” She tried not to speculate – dared not speculate – but so many possibilities chased themselves through her head, each one worse than the last. Bullies? Abusive teacher? Drugs?

He sat for a moment, a slumped, defeated statue with too much weight on his young shoulders – Young Atlas, Walter’s voice echoed in her mind. She saw the exact moment when he made his decision. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and met her eyes once more. Something brewed within those beautiful blue depths, but what it was she couldn’t say. Was it regret? Guilt? Fear?

“It really was an accident,” he finally said, voice slow and measured.

“Jim, really–!”

“I’m telling the truth, Mom!” he insisted so fervently that she was tempted to believe him. Almost.

“Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?” she demanded. “What kind of ‘accident’–”

“A Vespa one,” Jim blurted, and his eyes flickered down to his hands in shame. “I… a friend gave me a ride on his Vespa. I was on the back and got thrown off and rolled halfway down the embankment before a tree caught me right in the ribs.”

Fresh panic wormed its way into Barbara’s mind at Jim’s confession. As horrible as it was, part of her desperately wanted to believe him. If he had been in a vehicle accident, then no one had been deliberately hurting her child. It was just his own irresponsibility and stupidity.

“When did this happen?”

A beat. Then, sheepishly, “... yesterday.”

But – “What about the older bruises, Jim? Did you get into two Vespa accidents?”

“Paintball,” Jim answered without missing a beat. “We had a whole thing a few months back. Guys versus girls. And I got hit. A lot.”

Barbara recalled clearly the size and location of the older bruises that had peeked out from underneath the fresh, reaching ones. They could have easily been from punches or kicks, but it was feasible that the bruises could have come from being shot at close-range by a paintball gun.

Deep down, something still nagged at her. But Jim’s explanation was a siren’s call and she was so tired of swimming.

“Do you promise me you’re telling the truth?” The gaze she fixed on him one would have withered a succulent.

Without hesitation, Jim answered, his voice clear, strong, and insistent. “Yes.”

Relief flooded through her, and she squashed the last remaining doubts, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “In that case, you are grounded.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “What, really? You promised you wouldn’t be angry!?”

“I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. Let’s see, you know how I feel about both paintball and those Vespas and yet you went behind my back and nearly got yourself killed. You’ve been lying to me, Jim, keeping secrets. Is this why you’ve not been sleeping? Why you’ve been so distant?” It didn’t explain why he’d been getting into more trouble than usual, but right now she would take what she could get.

The slightest of hesitations. “Yeah.”

She considered, eyes burning into him, for a long moment, then she sighed, the sound of every evil thing escaping Pandora’s box, and she clapped her hands together briskly. “Okay, come on.”

Jim cocked his head to the side. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital.”

Jim groaned. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just bruised.”

“I’m not taking any chances, mister. You could have fractured ribs. You should have been rushed to the hospital as soon as the accident happened. Who is this friend, anyway? Why didn’t he take you to the E.R.?”

Jim scratched the side of his neck. “You wouldn’t know him,” he evaded, and Barbara made a promise to herself to revisit this point later. “And we were afraid we’d get into trouble…”

“Well, you did, kiddo. Now, get up. We’re going to the hospital, you’re getting x-rays, and then we’re getting ice cream.”

Jim blinked up at her. She wondered if he realized his arm was curled protectively around his ribs as he slowly eased himself off the bed. “Ice cream? I thought I was grounded.”

“You’re hurt, Jim, and I’m your mother. I’m not a monster.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of Jim’s mouth at her words, and not wanting him to get too comfortable, she added, “You are grounded, though. Absolutely. You’re not going anywhere after school for at least two weeks. And depending on the x-rays, you might not be leaving your bed for a while, either.”

“Mooom.”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me. Now, put your other shoe on. Let’s hussle. I want you looked at as soon as possible.”

What she didn’t see as she turned to leave the room was the heavy curtain of guilt being drawn over Jim’s face.

Later, she’d drive him home with a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and deep bruising across 80 percent of his torso and a bottle of muscle relaxers for the pain. They’d get ice cream and he would mope about bedrest and she would try to cheer him up (but not too much; he was still grounded, after all). But behind the pain of his injuries lurked a deeper, fierer ache that no balm could soothe, no medication could ease.

With every lie, he could feel the chasm widen between him and his mother, and it hurt more than a few broken ribs and bruises ever could.

20 notes · View notes

thenovelartist · 3 years ago

Text

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 6

OKAY! I'm just ready to see this story done, SO right or wrong, good or bad, we are going to keep chugging along and hope it ends up halfway decently XD.

16. Purring

It had been a revelation that had shaken Ladybug to her core. Chat… was dying?

He stayed silent, waiting for her to speak first.

“Chat…” Any and all words after that died on her tongue.

“That’s why I can’t be your cat anymore,” he said, voice ragged as though he was exhausted. “Because I have to get rid of this ring as soon as possible.”

“Then let’s look for a solution together.”

He shook his head.

“Why not?” she challenged.

“I have to do this on my own. This is my problem—”

“You’re my partner,” she countered. “Your problems are my problems, too.”

He sighed, looking weaker by the second. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Then why don’t you trust me to help you?” she begged, on the verge of tears. “Why are you cutting me out like this?”

He paused, his eyes avoiding hers as he lost himself in thought. “I have my reasons.”

“And they are?”

“Personal.”

Oh, dammit, Chat.

“Sorry,” he muttered, still not meeting her eyes. “But it’s better this way.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“I do, though.”

She grit her teeth, the pain in her heart growing the harder Chat drew the line between them.

“Trust me on this, bug,” he said, finally lifting his hazy gray-green gaze to her. “The backlash of my actions will come back to only me, and I don’t want you in the way.”

“I’d be willing to—”

“Oh, I know you would,” he cut in. “And that’s the problem. You…” He sucked in a breath. “You and Marinette both. You care far too much about people who are hurting. It’s not wrong, but… for people hurting to suddenly have safe havens like you is both the biggest relief and biggest weakness. Because if anything happens to that safe haven, we’re left with nothing. Mentally, it’s easier to leave the safe haven so it stays safe instead of watching it fall to ruin. Do you get what I’m saying, bug?”

The whiplash his words gave her made her head spin. She was sure he’d said other things before to that affect but never so clear for her to understand something she really couldn’t comprehend. “But… I can still be your safe haven even if you lean on me. I just help you get through all the other hard things. That’s what friends do, right?”

Chat’s ears fell, his eyes closing as he took a heavy breath. “There’s a limit to what I feel like I can ask you.”

“There’s no limit for me.”

“Maybe not for you, but I can’t cope with pulling you into this.”

Ladybug bit her lip, confused and hurt. He’d said before to Marinette that he loved Ladybug more than anything, so why was he pushing her away? Was he saying that he couldn’t lean on her because he cared for her? Because he couldn’t put that kind of pressure on her even if she was willing to take it?

She just… did not understand.

“Sorry,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “I figured you wouldn’t understand. So just… realize that I need to do this myself and stop trying to butt in to ‘help’. Because it’s not helping.”

There wasn’t anything else she could do. “Okay,” she relented. “Under one condition.”

His brow furrowed, and she watched his guard spring up again. “No. No conditions.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Why don’t you hear me out?”

Silenced, her words died on her tongue.

“I don’t want to pull you into this, and don’t go forcing yourself into my issues, either,” he growled, ears pinned back. “I’m asking one thing of you, and you’re trying to play fix-it by not listening to me. Stay. Out.”

There was no other option for her but to relent. “Understood.”

The edge of Chat’s intensity softened, his ears relaxing so they were no longer pinned at her. “Thank you.”

“This won’t be our last meeting, right?”

Chat quirked a brow at her. “Of course. I’ll have to give the ring back to you.”

Oh… right. “Still. You’re not going to just drop it off with me and run, right? You’ll talk with me? Please?”

He stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Okay,” she sighed, sad and hurting but hopelessly unable to push forward anymore. “That’s all I ask for. I’ll leave you alone until then.”

“Thank you. Now, you leave first.”

Ladybug quirked a brow at him. “What?”

“I have to apologize to Marinette. And thank her for letting us use the room.”

“Oh,” she muttered.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you now, Ladybug,” he stated. “And I won’t until I finish this last mission. So please, just go.”

Though it hurt, she really didn’t have a choice. He’d said more than she’d expected him to, and he also made it clear the conversation was over. She didn’t want to push and risk pushing him away again. But with this in mind, she knew she’d have to think about how their last meeting would go and what she was willing to give to make him stay in contact with her.

She stood. “Okay. I’ll go tell Marinette you’re awake.”

“Thanks.”

She went downstairs, detransformed and waited a minute, as though Ladybug was explaining everything to Marinette. It was hard not to immediately go back up to him, but it had to be done for her identity.

But once that thought struck her, she realized that she’d likely know who Chat was very soon. If he was going to give the ring back to her, he’d have to detransform. She’d know what he looked like outside the mask. She’d be willing to beg for his name, as well as for anything he was willing to give her about him. A part of her had always wanted to know the man behind the mask. But she’d never wanted that more than now.

And if she had to give her own identity in exchange, she realized she’d gladly do it.

Eventually, she walked back up to her room and knocked on the door. “Chat?”

“Come in.”

She opened the door, and there was Chat, sitting right where he had been, except the smile on his face nearly knocked her off her feet. “It’s your room, you know,” he said, his tone teasing. “You don’t have to knock.”

She shrugged, unable to come up with any other retort. “You had both Ladybug and I really worried, you know.”

That smile of his disappeared. “Sorry, Princess,” he said, letting his eyes close and head fall back to lean against the wall. “I didn’t mean to. And I’m sorry about everything else, too. It’s not like I want you to have to take care of me—”

“I don’t mind,” she cut in, crawling up to her bed and taking a seat beside him, their shoulders touching. “Really, I don’t mind at all.”

He huffed. “You shouldn’t have to be babying this superhero.”

“Again, I don’t mind.”

“You’re not a caretaker,” he said. “And it’s not fair of me to take advantage of you like that.”

She shrugged. “You need help. And I’m happy to assist.”

He sighed, turning down to look at her. “I know I yelled at you before for being Miss Fix-it,” he eventually said. “But one of your best qualities is your willingness to help someone. But then again. Maybe it’s not.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it makes me worry someone might take advantage of you.”

Marinette tilted her head. “Like… what are you talking about? I’m smarter than to let that happen.”

He huffed, sliver of a grin flashing across his lips before disappearing again. “Nevermind. Just… be careful who you let in your life. You… you’re a pretty amazing girl, babying a guy who can’t even tell right from left. You deserve the best, Princess.”

“You’re a pretty amazing guy, too, Chat,” she said. “Risking your life for Paris’s safety for years and still finding time to make others smile when you could. I want the best for you, too.”

He hummed, but didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned sideways, his head resting on top of hers. “Sorry, Princess,” he muttered. “I just… I really need a minute. And then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Take as much time as you need,” she assured. Out of habit, she reached up, burying her fingers into his white locks right under his cat ear. He stiffened at her touch, but as she slowly scratched circles in his hair, he relaxed. If she was Ladybug, she would use this to start up a purr that amused her so. But she didn’t expect that this time. It was only to put him at ease.

But he ended up purring anyway.

The sound rumbled through her, somehow calming her heart. Oh, kitty.

She stayed like that for a while, long enough for him to fall asleep. And when she eventually realized that, she laid him down on her bed, curling up beside him, and ended up falling asleep herself.

17. Locked in

After that last time she’d met him as Ladybug, Marinette had noticed Chat seemed to be losing himself more and more. She hated watching it, that ring draining him dry. She just wished he’d tell her what he was doing so she, her Ladybug self, could help him. So she could save him.

But she couldn’t. Chat had told her no. And pushing would ruin any chance of saving their partnership.

“You seem to be pushing yourself really hard,” Marinette began, setting a plate of cookies in front of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“So what if I am?”

She sighed, taking a moment to focus on what she wanted to say and what she could say as Marinette. Which… wasn’t much.

Chat’s icy demeanor thawed. “Sorry. Guess I’m just on edge with everything lately.”

“Is it stress or…?”

He shrugged. “A combination of things.”

“From what I can guess, you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I am cleaning up a mess that I alone can deal with,” he said. “And… guess I can say it’s taking a lot out of me.”

Like your life and health. She bit her lip. “How much longer do you think you’ll be at this? Because watching you now is painful.”

He paused, silence lingering a long while once again. “I have one thing I have to get for Ladybug,” he answered. “That’s it. Then I’m done.”

She blinked her surprise, unsure if she was more shocked at his task or him being so forthcoming about it. “My guess is it has something to do with the miraculous?”

He nodded. “I thought it was locked in a… certain place. But it wasn’t. It took a while to hunt down, but I found it.”

“So… are you saying you’ll be done soon?” she asked, hopeful. “And then you’ll be able to rest and recover?”

He stared at her for a moment before reaching out to rest a large, comforting hand on her head. “Yeah. And then I should be back on track to be okay again, okay, princess?”

She blinked at him, already feeling her vision blur.

He gave her a smile, one weak from exhaustion but true nevertheless. “Thank you for caring about me. It means more to me than you realize.”

18. Oops

Her cat just kept wanting to give her heart attacks, didn’t he? If it wasn’t bad enough that he was already barely lucid half the time, Marinette had just come up on her balcony to see the white super sprawled out, unconscious.

“Chat. Chat!” She flipped him off his stomach as carefully as she could before checking him over for any sign his was breathing. Which, while shallow, he was.

“You’re going to be the death of me, damn it!” she hissed, plopping down on the ground and pulling his head in her lap. Gently, she patted his cheek. “Chat. Chat, wake up, please.”

He didn’t, at least not right away. It took a moment for him to so much as stir under her touch. And when he finally opened his eyes, Marinette felt herself sigh heavily in relief.

“Damn it, you stupid cat,” she said, heaving a sigh of relief while her gut still burned with worry. “You scared the crap out of me.”

His eyes shut for a moment. “Sorry,” he muttered. When he opened his eyes again, they seemed to be a little less foggy. Nowhere near fully lucid yet, but she’d take any bit of progress she could at the moment.

She sat there for a while, stroking his hair and pondering what she could possibly say that she hadn’t already said a million times before. She couldn’t tell him to surrender his ring now, since he seemed determined to see this through, nor could she tell him to go to Ladybug for help. He certainly wasn’t going to listen to her either way.

“What am I going to do with you?” she muttered, tears beginning to make their way down her face. She realized that too late when they rolled off her jaw to splatter against Chat’s cheeks.

“It’s almost over, princess,” he muttered, forcing a weak smile that clearly took a lot of energy out of him. “I’m almost done.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“I mean it this time,” he wheezed out. “I… I got it.”

Got what? She wondered.

It took her far too long to realize what he meant.

“You’re really almost done?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up a shaky hand to roughly brush away the tear trail on her cheek. “Almost done.”

She could have cried in relief. Now, she had to prepare herself for his meeting with Ladybug. “Are you going to meet Ladybug now?”

He opened his mouth, but froze, words seemingly stuck in his throat.

“Chat?”

“No,” he answered solemnly, the light seeming to fade form his eyes. “Not… I need… I need a moment.”

Her brow furrowed. “To collect yourself?”

“To… recollect everything,” he said. “Because… it didn’t go as planned. And to call it the second big ‘oops’ I’ve made is just… too much an understatement.”

Suddenly, Marinette’s gut was back into such a tight knot she felt like she could throw up. What happened, cat?

A stupid question. Because unless she could work some Ladybug magic on him, she doubted she’d ever know.

#miraculous ladybug of course #marichat #marichatmay2021 #Ladynoir #sneaking in here again

47 notes · View notes

mrsseverussnape · 3 years ago

Text

Love Is You - chapter 28/final

a/n: And we came to the final chapter... I hope you liked the journey with Scarlett. Give her a gift and share your final thoughts about her or the fanfiction❤️🌹🐾

It has been 7 months since Scarlett and Severus moved into Scarlett’s retirement house in Naxos. Severus has retired after he found out about Scarlett’s illness because he wanted to spend all of his time with Scarlett. Scarlett hasn’t wanted him to do that sacrifice for her but Severus was persistent. When they moved to Naxos in June, first couple of weeks passed with decorating the house; their choice of decoration style was a mix of coastal and Greek. After the decoration was done, Scarlett needed to accomplish her other retirement dream which was buying ducklings! Severus reconciled Scarlett that buying only 2 ducklings is enough. She has wanted more but they ended up buying a yellow one and a Rouen one. Scarlett named the Rouen one “Cookie” since it has dark spots and looked like a chocolate chip cookie, yellow one was Severus’s to name and he named it “Milky” just to go with cookie and milk theme. Luckily, Scarlett’s cat Athena got along with the ducklings and they all became the cutest trio ever.

Scarlett and Severus had times of their lives during the whole summer in Naxos. They went to swimming, discovered every corner of the island, had long walks and many more; but their favourite activity to do together was sailing with their small boat and reading books middle of the sea. They believed that either island’s weather or those activities helped to ease Scarlett’s illness a bit. She wasn’t having heart aches or pains frequently and she has passed out only couple of times during the summer. She got even better when Carina and Leo came to visit her time to time. Scarlett wanted to spend rest of the year in Naxos too, they went to London for 2 weeks in September for Scarlett’s yearly check-up and to visit her parents and Carina since she was took Severus’s job after him. When they came back to the island, it was calmer than before since the summer season has ended and all the tourists were back at their countries. They liked it better that way and enjoyed the silence of the island. Everything was going good and well until November arrived. Like how trees lose their leaves in fall, Scarlett started to lose her health. Now she was waking up nauseous every morning and the moment she got off the bed dizziness was adding to it as a plus, some days she wasn’t able to eat anything whole day because of that. In addition to this her blackouts became more frequently, and she would faint regularly. Somedays Scarlett would be in such a bad mood and cry her eyes out until she fell asleep. These days were the worst ones for Severus, he would try his best to calm her down and ease her pain but after Scarlett fell asleep, Severus would go by the sea and cry there all by himself.

Last week of November, Scarlett insisted to invite her children, her parents and Sirius to Naxos; saying that she wants to see them one last time. Those words stabbed Severus in the heart, and they had a small argument over it because Severus wanted her to believe that nothing will happen to her. But in the end Severus sent patronus messages to all of them, explaining the situation a bit. Scarlett haven’t said anything about her illness to anyone still. When they got Severus’s message, all was panicked and couldn’t understand what happened to her so suddenly. Her parents and Sirius apparated there in the same day with the message, Carina and Leo came in the night of the same day. Severus explained them her illness beforehand which did lead to an argument between them, they were angry that Severus hasn’t said anything to them until this day even in secret from Scarlett. But in the end, they all realized that arguing won’t help anything and it was time to see Scarlett. She wasn’t able to get out of the bed, so all went to see her in the bedroom. She was sleeping in the dark blue sheets which made her to look even paler than usual, her hair colour was the only lively thing on her at the moment.

Ricardus went over to his only daughter and woke her up by kissing her cheek softly. “Wake up princess...”

“Dad...” Scarlett looked at him sleepily and tried to sit up. “You came.” When she realized all the people she wanted to see was in the room, her sad eyes sparkled with happiness. “You all came!”

“Of course we did mummy!” Carina jumped on the bed to snuggle her.

“Be careful Carrie.” Leo warned her, he was extremely tense since he found out about his mother’s condition. Leo was the mummy’s boy since birth and he adored Scarlett in every way. Possibility of losing her was killing him.

“It’s fine Leo, come join us baby.” Scarlett held a shaky hand out for Leo who happily accepted it and snuggled into his mother too.

The air of the room was unexplainable, everybody’s eyes had a sad expression when their lips were forced into a smile. They were trying to have a cheerful day just to make Scarlett happy but deep down all of them was crying internally. Especially Sirius, he was very silent. He was blaming himself for what happened to his Scarlett, he has put so much stress and pressure on her because of the fuckery they have been through. He had one job; protect his family and keep it together but he has failed terribly. Sirius shook these thoughts off and turned his attention back to Scarlett. They all took some photos together and talked for hours. Scarlett hasn’t been that happy for a long time, she even ate some food with them. Her happiness calmed everybody down for a bit.

The twins and Sirius have taken couple of days off from work so everybody would stay at the island. Severus was helping them to make the beds in the living room and the guest room, their house wasn’t that big so Ric and Aurelia would stay in the guest room while Sirius and the twins were sharing the living room. While they were on this, Scarlett wanted to talk with Sirius privately. Sirius went back to the bedroom where Scarlett was and sat next to her; silver eyes met with the forest green ones for the first time in a while.

“Siri...”

“Yes kitten.” He smiled softly at her.

“I want you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“When... when i am gone, please take care of Carina and Leo also yourself. I want to make sure that you all will be just as fine even i am not with you here no more...”

“No no no, don’t say such things. I don’t wanna hear those, Scarlett.” Sirius held her hand tightly and kissed her knuckles. “We will see our kids’ weddings and have grandchildren; we will be the coolest grandparents! Where do you think you are going without doing any of these!?” Sirius joked but his eyes were filled with tears, he was having hard time while trying not to cry.

Scarlett’s lips trembled while the tears were running down on her cheeks. Her heart broke thinking that she won’t be able to see any of these events Sirius just said. “Don’t buy little motorbikes to our grandchildren for their first birthday.” Scarlett joked trying to change the mood.

“Ah damn, i was just thinking that!” Sirius laughed but shortly his laughter turned into sobs. He snuggled into Scarlett who was halfway laying, she wrapped one arm around him while playing with his hair with the other hand. This was the way how Sirius copes with sadness, he would rest his head on either Scarlett’s chest or lap and let her to play with his hair until he was calm again. But this time Scarlett cried with him too, they poured out all the sadness they held inside.

“My lawyer will give keys to each of you when i d... you know; i prepared 4 trunks with the things i want to give you, the twins and Severus. They are in the basement of my house. When the time comes, take them okay...?”

Sirius didn’t answer her question but instead he held onto her even more. Scarlett sighed but knew he would do what she asked him to do. She looked down at Sirius who was laying next to her, head rested on her chest. “I want you to know that, i was so happy with you and i didn’t have any regrets. I think our friendship and marriage were more than just decent, they were perfectly splendid. I loved you very much Sirius Orion Black, i still do.”

Sirius finally looked up at her face, his cheeks were wet from the tears he shed; he sat up slowly. “Scarlett Serafina Rose, i love you more and always will. You are the best thing ever happened to me. I am so so so sorry for all the times i made you sad, none of them were intentional... You are my one and only.” Without a thought, Sirius closed the gap between their faces and pressed his lips into hers. Familiar feeling of 26 years filled them but this kiss was different; it was a farewell kiss and both of them knew it. Their tears mixed into the kiss and Sirius couldn’t take it anymore; he run out of the room crying.

Severus came to their bedroom soon after he saw Sirius run outside. “How are you Scar?” He asked while changing into his pyjamas.

“Good, i guess...?” She had a weird feeling whole day since her loved ones came but she couldn’t understand what; it was like she was cured in a day.

Severus turned off the lights before came to bed, but Scarlett turned on their bedside lights immediately. Severus raised his eyebrows, Scarlett hated to sleep in a lighted room even it was just a tinniest light. She noticed his confusion and explained. “I wanna see you...”

“Why is that love? Did you miss me?” Severus hugged her and kissed her tear-stained cheek.

“I will miss you...”

Severus was about to ask her what she meant but before he could, Scarlett kissed him passionately. This took Severus by surprise; since Scarlett’s illness got worse, the only intimate moments they shared were soft and slow kisses. She slowly pulled away and whispered into his ear. “You are my first, my last and my everything. I will keep your love evermore, Severus. I love you.”

Severus was used to Scarlett’s regular farewell talks by now and he hated them because they just hurt him even more but that felt different. When Scarlett looked into his night-like eyes, he got lost in hers; Severus always loved how big and meaningful her eyes were.

“Tell me you love me...” Scarlett’s whisper brought him back to reality.

“I love you more than anything in the whole wide world Scarlett, you know that. You are my luck.” Severus kissed her one last time. Scarlett rested onto his chest then he started to sing their song “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” to put her to sleep while playing with her hair. Her eyes closed slowly and she dived into a peaceful sleep.

The next day a shriek woke everyone up; it was raining cats and dogs with loud thunders. The weather simply reflected everyone’s feelings about today. They were planning to stay couple of days more but they changed the plan and took Scarlett to London with them. London days weren’t any different, they were gloomy and smothery. Severus wanted to turn back to Naxos for Scarlett’s birthday, they have decided on celebrating it there this year and he wanted to make it happen.

Severus was listening to a slow music from the record player and drinking some wine when his eyes caught the window, it was snowing for the first time this year in the island. Severus smiled happily thinking that Scarlett’s usual birthday wish was happening. Since it was midnight and officially her birthday, he ran up to their bedroom to wake her up and let her know about the snow. When he walked into the room, Scarlett was already awake in their bed. She was looking like a snow angel in her white satin sleeping gown, Severus grinned at her while moving the curtains aside.

“Surprise! Just how you wished for your birthday, love.”

“I haven’t wished for snow this year, i have only wished to be able to celebrate it...”

“We can start celebrations right now if you want, it passed midnight. Happy 56 my love!”

Scarlett didn’t respond to him; she was staring at him rather sorrowfully. He leaned against the wall behind him to support himself.

“I am not here, all of this happening in your head Severus...”

Severus shook his head while whispering “no” constantly.

“I died that night in your arms... It was your scream to wake everyone up in the following morning... You all took me to London for my funeral...”

“STOP! Please stop...”

Severus cried out while sliding down on wall to the floor. He buried his face into his palms and cried his heart out. When he calmed down, he kissed Scarlett’s promise ring which he was wearing on his pinkie now.

“I love you Scarlett... We will meet again…”

A/n: ahhh this final chapter always makes me cry😭 i don’t know why i wrote it like that…

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes @echoofawind @pamelalur15 @myamortentia

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me

26 notes · View notes