#big blond bird boy
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NSFW Alphabet - Joshua Rosfield Edition
Pairing: Joshua Rosfield/Reader Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Author's Note: Good god this took me a hot minute, apologies for the delay! Enjoy reading about everyone's favorite blonde bird.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Out of all of the FFXVI boys, he is the KING of aftercare. Knows what you need before you even ask, meticulously kisses every bruise and mark on your body, wraps you in his hold like a cocoon and doesn’t let go.
Dedicated to your comfort, he gently wipes at your shaky legs, voice soft and soothing.
“I know my love, you did so well,” he coos, a hand rubbing comforting circles against your thighs. “Let me take care of you, just sit back and relax.”
Once he’s done he massages every ache, kisses every bruise. He pulls your hair back, smoothes it over and revels in how you melt into the sheets.
Eyes closed in bliss, you reply. “What have I done to deserve you?”
A soft chuckle escapes him. “I often wonder the same about you.” While sex with Joshua is amazing, you could argue that the pampering you get afterward is even better.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He loves your breasts. He loves how they look in a tunic, he loves how they look bare, he loves how they move when he thrusts into you, Joshua is simply a boob man.
Similarly to his brother, he loves watching your face, your cute reactions are the highlight of his day.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
The first time he made you squirt it was unexpected. You thought he would be angry, so when you looked up and saw him staring at the bedsheets you were ready to apologize, only to be interrupted instead.
“You can do that?” He asked, fascinated.
Nervously, you nod. “Rarely. I didn’t mean to do it but your fingers felt really nice and I couldn’t hold it back—”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘hold it back’?”
Silence, then his thumb gently rubs on your oversensitive clit. “My love, have you been hiding this from me?”
This time you can’t keep silent, his fingers drawing out soft whines from your lips. “I didn’t want you to get upset—”
There’s a determination in his eyes, as if a fire had been lit underneath him. Suddenly his fingers resume their vigorous pace, your pleas falling on deaf ears.
“If I had known…” He chuckles, watching your cunt squeeze against his fingers. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make up for lost time.” And make up for lost time he did. A new record was set for how many times you could come in one single night, and it was not an exaggeration to say that you could not walk in the morning. It was, however, an awkward conversation when Joshua had to ask Otto for new sheets.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Not much of a secret, but he is very, VERY submissive. Initially he was the dominant one but a slip up in the bedroom made you realize just how willing he was to let you take the lead, and ever since you’ve been the one who takes care of him.
Your thighs burn with exhaustion, holding onto his shoulders as you bounce on his cock. He looks so pretty underneath you, red and flushed while he holds your hips steady.
“My love, my love…” He’s lost himself in the feeling of your cunt, not truly aware of anything beyond how tight you feel around him. You’re no better off, a thick haze of lust clouding your senses.
“I’m yours, gods above—“ he whines against your collarbone, pulls you down against him and mouths desperately at your chest.
“Yeah? You treat me so well Joshua,” you moan, stroking his head as you grind into his lap. “So well behaved, aren’t you?”
Something changes in the air, you can practically feel him fall apart when you speak. You test your theory, bringing his head upwards to meet your eyes.
“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you Joshua?”
The noise he lets out is pornographic.
“Yes, yes, so good, please—“
You move faster against his length, pushing him into the sheets with a heavy hand. “That’s right, darling. You like it when I compliment you, don’t you?”
He cries, whimpers your name as you lean in to speak his praises in his ear. “My pretty boy, mine to use as I wish, isn’t that right?”
You feel it before you hear it, the warmth that spread throughout your body as he calls your name with a shout. His breathing is ragged, hips thrusting into you with abandon as his seed spills into you. Already he stutters between moans, apologies leaving his lips.
“‘M sorry, sorry—“ Another shudder renders him pliant. “Didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, let me—“
You cut him off with another rise and fall of your hips, watching in bliss as he falls against the sheets limp.
“It’s okay baby, don’t worry,” you gently caress his cheek, kiss sloppily at his lips and swallow his delicious pleas. “I know you can’t help it, so I’ll help train you, alright?”
You coo at him, fall back onto his cock with force and grin when his eyes roll back. “We’ll keep going until I’ve had my fill, my love.”
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Had no experience beforehand, so everything he knows is from experimentation with you. I have a headcanon that he may not be physically experienced, but he is a very learned man, and probably read some less-than-appropriate material in his adolescence.
It was actually a surprise when he told you he never had sex before, because he sure didn’t act like it.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Cowgirl, goes absolutely nuts for it. The sway of your breasts, the loud slap of your thighs against his, the lost expression on your face when he hits just the right spot—
Anyway, he really likes you being on top.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He’s fluid, he can switch it up at a moment's notice, it just depends on the mood. It’s not uncommon for him to crack a sly joke or two. However, when he really gets in the mood he goes total subspace, so you have to be very attentive to his wants and needs and take care of him.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Very groomed. A habit he learned growing up as the prince (and was also hammered into him by his mother).
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He shows his intimacy through action rather than words. Holds you close, kisses you anywhere he can, rubs your aches and pains and warms you with his body heat.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t (unless you tell him to.)
He is a very patient man, and thrives off the wait. He will purposely hold off his own pleasure until he can pull you away.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise - He will never stop complimenting you, even over the littlest things. Pleasure Dom/Switch - If he doesn’t make you come at least three times you’re not leaving, period. Could be crying with overstimulation and will still hold off to watch you shake above him.
Intercrural - Sometimes he doesn’t need to slide into your cunt, your thighs do well enough.
Mutual Masturbation - Watches mesmerized when you touch yourself, just the thought of him watching makes you this horny? He’s on cloud nine.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
The bedroom, or anywhere where he’s certain you won’t be interrupted for at least a while and you’re allowed to be loud. He doesn’t enjoy the idea of someone walking in, and would rather take his time.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you subtly tease him throughout the day. The kind of touches that linger just too long, or the kind of looks that betray what you’re thinking of at the moment.
You’ve been teasing him all day, subtle in all the right ways. Of course it’s natural for couples to hug, but what the others don’t see is your hand creeping up to play with the strings of his tunic.
Of course you can kiss your boyfriend, but when you bite his lip softly as you leave he wonders if it’s simply the summer heat or if you’re the one who has made him sweat.
He might go insane if you keep this up.
There’s only so much he can take, he is only a man. He watches you from behind, admires your figure as you bend over, only to feel his cock throb when he notices your bare thighs underneath your dress.
Your thighs, and a lack of underwear.
This isn't fair. None of this is fair, and when you walk over to him with a coy smile there’s a sick little voice in his head that wants to grab you by the arm and bend you over—
“What are you thinking about Joshua?”
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.
You sway side to side, and his eyes can’t help to be glued to your dress, suddenly aware that anyone could have seen your little display.
“My love, are you busy?”
“Not at all,” you hum. “Why do you ask?”
“I think maybe we should have a very long chat,” he says, holding you by the hand before briskly dragging you away. “It would be best for us to continue this in our bed chambers.”
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that involves permanent damage to you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Guys, listen to me, and listen to me well. All of the FFXVI boys are munches, but Joshua is a DEVOURER. PUT THAT PRETTY BLOND BIRD ON HIS KNEES. HOLD HIM BY THE HAIR AND WATCH HIM GET PUSSY DRUNK, HE HAS A VERY REAL CHANCE OF SUFFOCATING BETWEEN YOUR LEGS.
Just hear me out for a second: You’re lying in bed, Joshua’s between your legs working magic against your pussy, you’ve come at least twice now but he’s not stopping. The third has you floating, pushing against him for a break but he just pulls you back with an unknown strength and doesn’t let his mouth stop moving for a second. From the little you can see his face is completely drenched, pupils fully dilated and you can barely see the blue in them anymore. Boy is talking MAGIC to your pussy as he grinds against the sheets, a small part of you wonders if he’s come yet but it doesn’t seem to matter, he just keeps fucking going and pressing you down each time you arch away from him.
Anyway Joshua Rosfield is the munch of munches don’t argue with me on this.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
When he’s domming he’s very relaxed, a very romantic and sensual lover. When he’s being dommed he gets so whiny and desperate it’s beyond adorable, will grab at you and beg and won’t shut up unless you give him a reason to or gag him.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He doesn’t have an appetite for it, maybe if the two of you were especially desperate he’d indulge, but Joshua would rather take his time with you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes, but you’d be the one to initiate.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He’s always been sickly at a young age, and the effects of that have carried over as he’s grown. However, unlike the other men, what he lacks in stamina he makes up for in detail. While he may only be able to go for two rounds, they are very long, drawn out sessions.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
If you’re comfortable with the idea, he’d be willing to try. He’s most interested in being tied up.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s very fair, but 9/10 you’re going to be the dominant one in the relationship. Please tease him, he’ll be so well-behaved for you.
He breathes in deeply, holds you tight to him as your hand languidly strokes his length. Up, down, and back up again, you squeeze a bit and revel at the pathetic keen that rises from his throat.
You shush him gently, spreading the precum that drips from his tip with your thumb. “Gimme a color darling.”A sniffle, and then— “Green, please, keep going.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s LOUD, he wants you to have zero doubts about how good you make him feel, whines and whimpers and begs like a good boy.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Mommy kink. This counts as a dirty secret as well.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
5.9 inches on the skinny side, uncut and REALLY sensitive. His tip turns a pretty bright red when you overstimulate him and leaks like crazy.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
While more behaved than the other men it really doesn’t take him a lot to get going, if you pull him away to a secluded room and kiss him until his lips bruise he’ll do anything you say.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Makes sure all your needs are met, and then it’s lights out. Likes to press himself into your chest and spoon you as he does.
#final fantasy xvi#final fantasy xvi smut#joshua rosfield#joshua rosfield x reader#joshua rosfield smut#ff16#big blond bird boy#Just look at him just tell me thats not a man who wouldn't rent a space between your legs#robo writes
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very important question, if tsh was the muppets, would henry or bunny be big bird
#they are both Big Boys TM#henry canonically is taller broader but also lbr its fucking#big bird#yellow creature#blond man
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Cruel Summer | Felix Catton
Your mother's money issues make it hard for you to enjoy your summer at Saltburn. Thankfully your cousin is there to comfort you. But what happens when you realize his interest in you isn't just familial concern?
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Start! Reader, Incest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Corruption, Innocent Reader, Drugs, Smoking, Filming
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
Your eyes round as they absorb the massive castle and the vast, lush gardens surrounding it. As you drag your suitcase behind you, you can’t quell the urge to admire everything. Even the towering, perfectly symmetrical trees lining the path to the iron gates. It’s been years since you visited Saltburn, but you don’t remember it being so big or intimidating.
Still, you bask in the chirping of birds and the brightness of the sky above you. You’re compelled to admit it. The English countryside is lovely, a haven away from the pollution and noise of the city. A sharp contrast to the familiar chaos you’re used to back home. The uproar of traffic, from the honking to the shouting. The endless stream of people strutting down the streets. The gigantic ads and the skyscrapers that graze the stars.
A city that never rests or stops for anyone.
While this is home, it all can be so overwhelming. There never is time to just…breathe and be. Here, as you look at your surroundings, you figure it’s all there is to do. Breathe and be.
You push the small iron door on the side, astonished to find it ajar. Did they leave it open for you? You doubt it however. From what Mom told you, consideration for others isn’t one of your aunt and uncle’s strong suits. They’re too wrapped up in their “posh little world”. One your mom isn’t a part of anymore. And neither are you, as you’ve been raised overseas.
As for your brother…well he’s another matter. Shipped from school to school thanks to Uncle James’ “bottomless well of generosity”, he is a free spirit. Seas apart from you in every possible way.
Ever since you were young, the pressure to succeed has gripped you tight and never released you. When others partied and experimented, you were nose deep in your books, stressing over finishing every assignment on time and acing every test. It paid off. You were accepted into your school of choice this summer, with a scholarship no less.
Slacking off isn’t an option for you.
While your brother has a sort of safety net, you’re not so close with that side of your family. You’re their estranged American niece, one they haven’t seen in over a decade.
In fact, you’ve no idea how you’ll be received.
The long walk to the castle is harrowing but gives you time to comb through your memories. You were so little the last time you visited. Still, foggy remembrance floods your thoughts. You played with your cousins by the pond. Made up stories and ran around the fields. You even faintly recall skinning your knees when one of them dared you to try and climb all the way to the top of the stone stairs beneath the stained glass window. You slipped for a long time and wept on the floor, you think. Auntie Elspeth scolded her children and you for playing dangerous games.
Their cherubic faces flicker in your mind.
There were two of them.
A little boy with dark hair and a gummy smile. A blonde girl who giggled all the time. And of course, your brother.
When you’ve reached the castle’s front door, you suck in a wide breath. Before you can even knock on the tall, black doors, they swing open in front of you.
A surprised exhale spills from your throat.
Swallowing, you fall back.
Hands behind his back, a stern man in a suit runs his gaze over you. He is so still, for a minute, you wonder if he’s real.
But then he speaks. “Are you lost, miss?” he asks.
You shift, a surge of inadequacy filling you. Still, you clear your throat and give a tremulous answer.
“Hi. I…I’m here to visit my family.”
The man doesn’t budge, still pinning you with his unflinching stare. Sweat breaks out on your back. Are you at the right place?
“The Cattons,” you offer, an awkward smile stretching your lips. “My brother should already be here.” You start rummaging through your backpack to pull out a map. “This is Saltburn, right? Auntie Elspeth sent me the itinerary but perhaps I-”
He cuts you off, seeming almost annoyed with you.
“Right, you’re…earlier than we expected, Ms. Start.”
“I could come back later-”
“The gates aren’t open. We’d have sent someone to pick you up.”
You glance back, dumbfounded. The gates were definitely open, weren’t they? Or perhaps that little door wasn’t supposed to be crossed. Your cheeks flame. The elaborate rules your wealthy relatives abide by are already eluding you.
Your shoulders heave and fall.
“It’s okay, it wasn’t that long a walk.”
The man stiffly allows you in. You note the two black men standing by the door. They haven’t uttered a single word, blending into the background. Always seen but never heard. You believe your brother mentioned something like that in his sporadic texts and letters. Your gaze tears from them. The inside of Saltburn is even more majestic, a thing you didn’t think possible. Standing in a museum wouldn’t be much different, you suppose, between the antiques sitting on shelves, paintings hanging on the walls and crystal chandeliers hovering above you.
So, this is what generational wealth looks like.
When you were little, you didn’t notice this. You were too busy playing. Now, it’s all you can see.
“Just leave your bag there. Someone will get it for you,” the man says.
“Someone, as in…”
“Someone,” he repeats, staunchly refusing to elaborate.
The grip on the handle of your suitcase tightens.
“I really don’t need it. I can carry it myself.”
The man considers you, his face twitching as if you just spat in it. Your insides stir in confusion. All you’ve said is that you don’t mind carrying your own luggage.
The loud utterance of your name has your head snapping sideways.
Your mouth falls open when a towering, young man in a yellow shirt around your age strides in your direction.
He halts in front of the stern man, chiding him with a playful lilt in his tone.
“Really Duncan? You’re scaring the poor girl. Duncan, stop being so terrifying. She’s family.”
“Well, I shall try.”
You note the subtle warmth in the man’s tone as he addresses the newcomer.
He turns to you, beaming. Your stomach flutters. “Cousin, try not to be too terrified of Duncan.”
You’re taken aback when he grabs the hand gripping the suitcase. His large hand completely engulfs yours.
“I’ll show her to her room. Don’t worry,” he chimes. He pulls you away and you’re forced to keep up with his long, enthusiastic strides. He tosses you a glance, laughing when you sort of hop behind him. “Sorry about that. Duncan’s a bit odd, but he’s alright, you’ll see.”
“And you are…?”
Disappointment creeps on his face at your question. He spreads a hand over his chest.
“Felix, your cousin. Golly, you don’t remember me? Really? That kind of hurts.”
Your eyes grow. The picture in your mind was that of a chubby-cheeked, clumsy little boy. Your cousin definitely isn’t that anymore.
“Oh my god, yes! Felix. You don’t have a lisp anymore and…You’re like a giant now.”
A smug expression lights his features.
“Puberty.”
You laugh in response. “Yeah, I guess we all grew up.”
A strange glint fleets across his gaze as he gives you a quick once over.
“Clearly,” he says, his smile expanding.
He shows you around the estate. You can’t suppress your awe when he mentions Henry VIII, surprised Saltburn’s history stretches that far back. The library also radiates ancient and priceless, countless rare leather-bound books sitting on the shelves. A smile creeps on your face when Felix greets the ghost of your grandmother.
He takes you through a vertiginous amount of hallways until taking you to what will be your room. It’s apparently right next to Venetia’s. You glance around, expecting another long lost cousin to pop up perhaps. But it’s just you and Felix in the vast bedroom.
He leans against the doorjamb while you soak in the room and the massive bed, large enough to welcome three or four people. It’s nothing like your tiny bed at home or the one in your college dorm. This is something you never had, and that is just Felix and Venetia’s normal. It makes you speechless.
You drop your backpack on the floor at the foot of the bed.
The mattress bounces as you plop down on it. You let your fingers skim over the blissfully soft sheets.
Your contemplation is abbreviated by the ringing of your phone. You flip it open. The screen lights up, signaling a new message received. You type on the glowing arrows to find out it’s from Mom.
Remember to ask your aunt and uncle for what we talked about.
I really need you, sweetie.
You unleash a heavy breath. Your mom is the one who pressured you to go on this trip. Ever since her brother’s regular payments have dried up, your mother’s been relentless. She keeps claiming she wants her share of the trust and your uncle argues that she used all of it. First, she recruited Farleigh to speak on her behalf. Your brother’s attempts have met little success however. So your mother enlisted you.
You don’t know what more you can do that your brother couldn’t, but you can never say no to anything your mother asks.
“Is something wrong?” Felix inquires, making his way to your bed to sit near you. The scent of his pricey cologne tingles your nose.
“It's nothing,” you lie. “Just Mom asking if my arrival’s been smooth.”
Your cousin seems like the living embodiment of sunshine, just like you remember. If possible, you want to keep him out of the money issues between your mom and Uncle James.
Felix tilts his head as he studies you.
“It’s kinda funny.”
“What?”
“The way you say ‘mum’”
A laugh peals from your lips.
“I guess I’m gonna have to get used to my accent being made fun of.”
Felix shrugs. “My mum will think it’s exotic.”
You cringe inside. You never liked that word, how it makes you feel like an animal in a zoo.
Switching topics, you ask, “Is my brother around? I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Ah, Farleigh’s probably skulking about somewhere.”
You chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
Felix collects the book poking through the zipper of your backpack. He flips through the stained pages of your copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood prince. You accidentally spilled coffee on it during a late night study session.
“You could talk to him about this,” he offers, waving the book. “We’ve kind of been passing around Venetia’s copy. Although I tend to skip to the most interesting parts, but don’t tell everyone else.”
You smile.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you reply solemnly.
He watches you for a long time, long enough for your gaze to find the floor as your face heats.
“It’s really good having you here with us, cousin. I mean it.”
You fidget in your spot. “Thanks.”
Felix flashes you a mischievous grin.
“But I’ll need to make sure you remember me this time.”
The rest of the day is spent reconnecting with your other relatives. Everyone gathers in the library and you get to meet Venetia, realizing she too has changed a lot since you were kids.
Oliver, Felix’s friend from Oxford is also there. From your cousin’s broad explanations, it appears he’s grieving the loss of one of his parents, so he invited him to make sure he isn’t alone. It’s unbelievably kind. Besides, you’re guessing from Oliver’s lost puppy dog stares and awkward manners, that he’s as out of place as you are here. Instant sympathy blooms inside you when you’re introduced to him.
A woman named Pamela is also in attendance. She is Aunt Elpseth’s close friend, though it’d be hard to tell, the way she orders her around like a servant and exposes the long list of tragedies her love life has been to the entire room.
A saying about friends and enemies flutters through your mind as you witness their interactions. It’s such a bizarre spectacle, watching this red-haired woman, dead behind the eyes, bend over backwards for your aunt. You don’t remember Aunt Elspeth being this cold-blooded.
And naturally, there is your brother. Farleigh. Aloof in the back, apart from the Cattons, your eyes collide from across the room. He smiles at you. You smile back. Warmth flows through you.
It’ll be a while before you’re comfortable around each other again. It pains you to say, but you don’t know your own brother all that well anymore.
Dinner’s a strangely formal affair. Everyone’s dressed to the nines, giving the family gathering more of a cocktail party vibe than that of a family dinner. Venetia lends you a dress so you aren’t the odd one out. You thank her profusely. All you packed when you left America are jeans and a few pairs of shorts. It never occurred to you that you’d need any kind of formal wear since you figured you would be around family.
But you failed to take into account said family is also a part of British high society.
Awkwardness fills you as you hesitate over the utensils, the different kinds of knives and forks making you dizzy. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself on the first day. Seeming to grasp your predicament, Venetia nudges your elbow when you grip the right fork and knife.
You mutter a quiet ‘thanks’ and she winks at you.
Several courses are brought on silver platters, one after the other. The entire time, you focus on your plate, swallowing every bland, flavorless bite.
Stiff conversation is exchanged at the table, most of it centering on Aunt Elspeth’s dour-looking friend. Once more, compassion flutters through you.
It’s blatant to everyone at the table that Pamela isn’t wanted at Saltburn anymore.
It’s a relief when dinner concludes and you can return to your bedroom.
You sit by the large window in your room to admire the night sky. Between the skyscrapers and artificial lights, it’s hard finding a spot to look at the stars in New York. Here however, you can make out constellations and various other glittering shapes.
Venetia joins you on the windowsill. She takes a long drag of her cigarette and blows smoke on the window. She shoots you a cheeky smile.
“So, do you regret coming already?” she teases.
You fiddle with your hands.
“It’s fine. Everyone’s nice. It’s…kind of unreal being here.”
“Just remember this is your home too.”
You mull it over. It is becoming clear to you how much you don’t fit in with the Cattons, despite sharing blood with them. You wonder if it’s how your brother has felt all these years. Like an outsider amidst his own kin. Although, you have to admit he looked quite comfortable at dinner. Far more than you, definitely.
“I’ll…try to remember that.” You hesitate, gnawing on your lip before speaking again. “Is Pamela gonna be okay, you think?”
Venetia shrugs.
“I think she’ll be alright.”
Your lips purse. Who knows how that haunted woman will fare once she’s on her own in the world again? You’re not too hopeful. But it seems like Aunt Elspeth is done with her, so it cannot be helped you suppose.
“If you say so.” You tilt your head at your cousin, dropping casually. “Do you think Uncle James is still up?”
“At this hour, Daddy will be in his study.”
You nod and get to your feet. Wandering the halls of Saltburn at night is a peculiar experience. The shadows clinging to the walls seem to follow your every step. Dusty slices of moonlight spill from the windows, bringing the stern portraits of your distant relatives to life, the aged hues of the paintings shifting in the dim light. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you're being watched. The back of your neck tingles as the sound of your fearful steps echoes in the vast halls. A breeze of cool air seeps through your clothes. You tug on the cardigan Venetia let you borrow from her closet, hurrying your pace.
For a long time, you spin in circles, growing desperate to find your uncle’s study. Your spirits sour. You followed Venetia’s instructions to the letter yet you got lost. A left, a right, straight along the green room, then…another right?
You frown. Now you can’t remember. Why does every hallway look the same here?
Astray in your own mind, you carelessly bump into a hard object.
You lift your gaze. Your jaw drops.
“Felix,” you exclaim, placing a hand over your heaving chest. “You scared me.”
Mirth glints in his brown orbs.
“Lost, cousin?”
Avoiding his eyes, you scratch your am.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” you mumble.
Felix chuckles and seizes your arm.
“It’s not. It’s easy to get lost here.” You gasp as he pulls you alongside him. “Just tell me where you need to go and I’ll show you the way.”
Too dumbstruck by his abrupt appearance, you let Felix drag you through the somber hallways. The sharp twists and turns he takes make your head spin. There is no way you’d have found the study on your own.
He halts in front of two mahogany doors. Your feet bounce as your hand lingers on the brass handles.
Felix knocks on the door and your heart leaps.
“I’ll wait for you here, so you don’t get lost again,” he says.
“You don’t have to,” you squeak.
He leans over you and smiles.
“I insist, cousin. I have to prove to you not all of us are completely horrible…despite what you may have seen.”
Your face warms.
“T-Thank you.”
James’ voice rises from inside the room, giving you permission to enter. You nod at Felix and take shaky steps inside the study. The crackle of logs burning away reaches you. The swaying flames mingle with the shadows, casting a faint orange glow on the room.
“Uncle James, may I speak to you?” you bashfully inquire.
He lowers his round glasses and puts down the notebook in his hands.
“Of course. Anytime, love. Have a seat.”
“Is something troubling you, child?”
You gulp the lump stuck in your throat, staring at your lap for a while before you meet your uncle’s gaze again. You shift in your seat.
You don’t know how to ask or, more precisely, the appropriate way to ask. A wide lungful enters your lungs. Why delay the inevitable?
You elect to dive right into your reason to be here.
“My mother. Well, she was wondering…” Your nerves buzz as your uncle’s sharp eyes cut into you. You clear your throat before continuing. “We were wondering if there were issues on your side because she hasn’t…” Sweat blooms inside your palms as your voice dwindles to a whisper. “Well, you haven’t sent anything like you usually do and it’s been two months now.”
A heavy coat of silence falls over the study. After a while, your uncle unleashes a deep sigh.
“And she sent you to vouch for her.”
“I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slump. “Mom, she…She isn’t really good with money.” This is a massive understatement, and from the way Uncle James’ eyes bear into yours, it’s clear that he’s also aware of that fact. As much as you love your mom, she’s never been the most responsible with money, often squandering it on flashy things and pretty clothes. More than once growing up, she fell short on a bill and you couldn’t even shower before going to school. “If you could help this one time, then I’ll figure something out for her. I promise.”
“And how do you plan on doing that, young lady?” your uncle challenges.
“I…I’ll find a way. We always find a way.”
“You’re a very good daughter, which I can appreciate…” Your pulse races as you wait with bated breath. “But I’ve given your mother more than enough for her to get on her feet. Still, she always asks for more.”
Your heart plummets. The finality laced in his tone didn’t elude you. Why did you even think you could sway your uncle’s opinion in any way when your own brother, who has been around the Cattons for years, couldn’t accomplish that feat?
“She has issues…but I promise, uncle, she’ll get herself together this time,” you offer.
“I will give it some thought.”
He flashes you a sympathetic smile. You recognize its meaning right away. It’s strikingly similar to the one Aunt Elspeth gave her “friend” at the dinner table.
Understanding you are being dismissed, you get up from the chair and bid your uncle good night.
“Thank you for listening,” you say glumly before leaving.
As Felix escorts you back to your bedroom, you can’t help but notice that Uncle James never once referred to your mother as his sister.
You frankly doubt he will give what you said any semblance of thought. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that entire conversation vanished from his head the second you stepped out of his study.
The rest of the week goes smoothly. Lazy summer days with your cousins and brother fly by in a hazy blur. Hanging by the pond beneath the sizzling sun. Displaying your terrible tennis playing skills to the entire group. Scary movie nights with the whole family during which Venetia and Felix laugh at you because you watch most of the film through your fingers and hide your face in a pillow whenever the monster appears.
It’s nice. You start thinking that reuniting with your extended family for the summer wasn’t such a rotten idea.
You nearly forget your mother. Nearly.
Though with the daily messages you receive detailing the squalor she’s living in, it’s impossible to forget. Guilt grows within you each day.
“She’s been texting you too?” Farleigh asks as he sits at the edge of the tennis court next to you. He’s still in his tux while you’re still wearing one of Venetia’s sparkly dresses, as all of you decided to sneak out of Aunt Elspeth’s uptight dinner party to catch the sunset and play a game of tennis. One thing you’ve come to learn about your cousins. They do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Part of you envies that. The carefree knowledge that whatever mess you make, someone will clean up behind you…discreetly and in silence at that.
You flip your phone shut and sigh.
“Nonstop.” You sag in the chair. “I’ve done all I can.”
“Yeah…Me too.”
“I feel awful.”
You’re taken aback when your brother says, “Don’t. This isn’t your fault.”
You tentatively reach over his armchair to squeeze his hand.
“It’s not yours either,” you assure softly. Your brother shocks you when his fingers wrap around yours. You don’t think you held hands like this since you were toddlers. You were always the clingy one, following after your big brother like a lost puppy.
You and your brother remain like this for a while, eyes trailing the downward race of the sun over the horizon.
When night falls, you’re surprised to find a tall, familiar form slipping through the wall of your bedroom.
“Felix!” He puts a finger over his lips as a sign to lower your voice. It instantly dips to a whisper. “How did you get here?”
Amusement paints Felix’s features at your flabbergasted expression. He clicks the door shut.
You blink. Once closed, the secret entrance blends seamlessly into the wall. There is no way you could have known this was here.
“Secret passageway. Old castles like Saltburn have plenty of them,” he explains, crawling over your bed.
“Oh.”
As your eyes drag over his frame and you note that Felix’s just in his shorts, fire creeps inside your cheeks. Of course, you’ve seen your cousin in trunks but usually, it’s around the entire group. For some reason, a sliver of discomfort pools within you. You look away and clear your throat.
“Is it…okay for you to be here?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that…nothing.”
A deep chuckle peals from his chest. The mattress bounces as Felix lets himself fall onto your sheets. He makes himself comfortable on the pillow near you, putting his hands behind his head as a lazy smile spreads on his lips.
“Don’t be silly. We’re family. It’s like when we were little and we’d all sleep in the same bed.”
You can’t help but smile at that. He’s right; you’re overreacting.
“Right. That was so fun.”
He lies on his side, elbow bent as he buries one hand in his tousled brown curls.
“You used to have nightmares so you’d always sneak into my bed or Farleigh’s.”
“Now that you’re saying it, I think I remember that.”
“You’re still as cute as I remember.” Felix’s brown eyes twinkle as he drinks you in. “No…Even cuter.”
“Thanks.”
He approaches you and starts playing with the hem of your cotton shorts, twiddling the fabric between his forefinger and thumb.
Brown eyes dive right into yours.
“I saw you with Farleigh today. You looked sad.”
You shake your head.
“It’s nothing…just got some stuff on my mind.”
Felix’s smile dies.
“You also looked sad when you left Dad’s office the other day.”
You bristle. “It’s nothing important, really.”
“Your mom?” he inquires. When you don’t reply, Felix’s knuckles sweep over your outer thigh, his deep timbre softening, “You can trust me, cousin.”
You unleash a sharp, audible breath, budding tears tickling your eyelids.
“It’s just a lot. She’s asking things from me that I don’t know if I can do much about.”
Felix collects one of your stray tears with his thumb. He then snatches your hands from your lap and clutches them in his. They completely swallow yours.
“She shouldn’t ask anything of you. It’s not fair. You’re her daughter. She should protect you. Not the other way around.”
You sniffle. “I don’t know. It’s just been me and my mom for so long. Especially after Farleigh decided to stay in England most of the time. So I feel like…I need to take care of her, you know? Because she always took care of me.”
He cups your cheek, wiping more of your tears.
“You’re far too sweet for your own good, cousin.”
Felix then sits up and conjures a lighter and a blunt from the back pocket of his shorts.
You gawk at him as he lights it in front of you, taking a deep drag before blowing smoke in your face.
Your stomach tingles when he offers it to you.
“I don’t know if I should…”
Felix’s timbre lowers seductively as he grabs your hand and slips the roll between your fingers. Even holding it doesn’t feel right.
“Come on, you’ll feel better. It’ll free your mind. No thoughts. No troubles. Just…light and happy.”
“That sounds amazing,” you mumble.
“Then try a puff.”
You bring the blunt to your mouth and immediately cough.
“You gotta go slow,” he chuckles. Once you’ve retrieved your breath, he nudges it against your mouth again. “Here, another.”
The room begins to swirl around you. You lie back, a heady, cotton-like sensation spreading from your head to your toes.
“Damn…” you whisper as your limbs slacken, the tension in your body slowly melting away.
Felix lies back next to you, his grin growing.
“See? That’s why you should always listen to me, cousin.”
It becomes a habit, Felix sneaking into your room and the two of you smoking in your bed every night. Him slipping through the secret door doesn’t even faze you anymore, and your reservations about getting high evaporate a little more with every puff you inhale. The serene sensation and warm tingles you get afterwards are entirely too pleasant.
It’s something you’ve never experienced. Letting go. For a few precious minutes, the burdens on your shoulders can vanish.
You don’t tell Venetia, or even Farleigh. You still remember him going full big brother mode that one day when you tried to join the rest of them when they hung out naked in the field. The Cattons siblings laughed as you were escorted away, burning from head to toe at the humiliation.
You don’t want a repeat of that. Always being the good girl is exhausting. Not that your brother would understand. He gets to live life on his own terms. Get kicked out from as many schools as he likes. Charm his way through the world. You don’t. For once, you want to revel in doing something…a little forbidden. Something the nerdy, party-avert, studious girl you forced yourself to be all these years would never do.
So the nightly meetups become you and Felix’s secret.
It’s all casual, harmless fun. Until, one night, everything changes. As your head lolls back on the pillows, your gaze fixated on the ceiling, your cousin’s fingers dance over your half-exposed belly.
“Feeling better?” he mutters, his voice low and secretive.
“Yeah.”
“I know a way you can feel even better.”
You don’t think much of it. Not even when he slithers across the sheets, finding his way between your legs. He tugs your shorts down, slowly, until you’re down to your panties in front of him. The rush of cool air on your skin makes you tremble.
“Felix, what are you doing?” you chuckle, high enough not to fully register what’s going on.
A playful smile ghosts over your cousin’s lips. He blows on your clothed center and the sensation draws a giggle from you, even as a faint layer of panic is trying to pierce through the haze.
“You seemed so stressed today. It’ll help you relax…” he promises, trailing sluggish kisses up your inner thigh. As his lips travel upward, your stomach clenches. He hooks two fingers inside your panties to push them aside.
Your cousin’s gaze darkens, his smile broadening, as he basks in the sight of your bare, shuddering folds. He licks his lips before kissing the center of you.
Your limbs tense as Felix starts unraveling you with his tongue. He licks a stripe over your folds, his tongue tarrying over your tender bud. The breath catches in your throat. He traces slow circles over your button, tearing a soft gasp from you everytime he suckles the sensitive spot between his lips.
Felix hums while his head bobs between your thighs.
A tingly, warm feeling starts blooming in your core, scattering to your entire body. Hot and irresistible. A wave of heat that slowly takes over your entire frame.
You clutch the sheets.
Your eyes rise to the heavens as heat pulses through your core.
“No, Felix, this is… this is wrong,” you wheeze out between aching breaths.
His devious laughter ripples through your core.
“I’m just trying to make you feel good. How can that be wrong, cousin?” he says innocently, before flicking his tongue over your folds. He spreads you even more, dipping in and out of you as quiet shouts rip from your throat. Your back curves over the sheets. Your lids flutter as you peer at the ceiling unseeingly.
His sinful baritone nudges you to your undoing.
“Just let go. It’s okay. It’s just me.”
You quake, the tense heat growing too much to bear. Your insides coil. Sparks erupt from your center, traveling outward. Your body goes limp as you collapse over the sheets, dazed and breathless. Tears of arousal trickle from your core and your cousin greedily savors every wayward drop. Shame scalds your insides as you feel him lap up your nectar, your wide gaze glued to the ceiling.
The next morning, panic rushes through you as your eyes snap open.
“Hey, hey, you don’t need to freak out,” Felix says lightly, pulling you against him from behind. His hand settles over your rapidly moving chest.
“Last night…” you say, choking on a sob as you recall bits and pieces. You were so damn high. Still, you’re pretty sure what you think happened…happened. Even in your own head, you can’t put it into words. You rub your thighs. Stickiness lingers there from Felix’s ravenous tongue. Shame burns in your gut.
As you try to climb off the bed, Felix yanks you back. He slams you down on your back. Your heart jumps as he looms over you, his broad body easily caging yours.
He frames your chin, drawing your attention to him.
“We just had some fun, you and I,” he says, thumb tracing your quivering lip. “That’s all. No one ever has to know.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you keep pulling on your tiny camisole, pathetically attempting to cover your nakedness. Felix chuckles.
“Gosh, you really need to stop being so uptight, pretty cousin.”
He drops a quick peck on your cheek before dragging his lips over your earshell.
“It’s okay. We’ll work on loosening you up.”
For a few days, Felix doesn’t visit your room again. You’re thankful for that. You can barely meet your cousin’s gaze now, the fear of someone finding out what happened eating you alive. You can’t imagine coming back after so many years only to cause havoc and drama.
Your mom would be so disappointed. Your brother would be livid.
So you do as Felix says. You keep your lips firmly sealed. It’s not like it’ll go further than that anyway. The two of you were high, that’s what you keep telling yourself.
None of this would have happened otherwise.
Unfortunately, your meticulously crafted wall of denial explodes when your cousin shows up again one night.
You tremble as your eyes rest on him. Felix smiles at you, pushing the secret door closed. You note the camera dangling from his neck. The entire day was spent snapping pictures to remember the summer. You took so many silly ones with Venetia and your brother. For a while, you let yourself forget. Felix took most of the pictures today, appearing in very few himself. You just didn’t expect him to still be wearing it this late.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you reply shyly.
“How are you feeling today?”
Your lips clamp shut. Today was awful. Apparently your mom might be getting evicted soon. She hasn’t stopped texting you about it the entire day, and even some of the night because of the time difference. You feel so dauntingly powerless…and awful. You’re staying in a literal castle while your mom might be homeless soon.
“I’m good.”
He takes lithe steps towards you, his handsome face twisting in sympathy as he plops down on your bed. He removes the camera from around his neck and tosses it over your pillows.
“No you’re not. You’re still worried about your mom. You were checking your phone all day today.”
You bring your knees close to your chest.
“It’s fine, Felix.”
Felix sighs, concern swimming in his brown gaze.
“No, it’s not fine.” His fingers roam over your ankle as he lies on his side. “You know…” Felix pauses, eyes holding yours. “I could talk to my dad if you want. He never refuses me anything.” He flashes a sunny grin. “After all, I’m his precious boy. His firstborn son.”
You gape at him.
“You really would do that for my mom?”
Felix sits up and closes the distance between the two of you. He bends over you, placing his large hands over your feet. You follow the stars tattoos etched atop his hand; his sister has the same ones if you recall.
His knees graze your ankles as he says, “Not for your mom. For you, cousin. So that frown on your face can finally…” He flicks your brow with his thumb and laughs. “...disappear. Like magic.”
You consider Felix, relief and awe storming through you.
Without giving it much thought, you toss your arms around his neck.
“Thank you so much,” you exclaim.
“Of course…” His fingers travel along your spine. “I’d just have a little favor to ask in return.”
“Sure, anything,” you answer easily.
He pulls back, lacing his fingers with yours.
“It’s not much.”
The heady scent of his cologne washes over you as he leans forward.
“I’ve been aching somewhere lately and I need you to make it better, cousin.”
“Oh, aching…where?”
“I think it’s best if I just show you.”
A foreboding inkling flares in your gut. Still, you don’t move as Felix “shows you”. He tugs on his shorts. He slowly pulls on the fabric, shimmying out of it as you hold your breath. When his length springs free, you unleash a small squeak. Your reaction drags a laugh out of Felix.
Though you don’t really want to, you can’t help but stare. It’s thick and long with veins running alongside the shaft. The tip points upward, glistening and red.
“I don’t know if I can help with…something like that,” you mumble, your voice wavering at the end.
“Sure you can.”
He lifts your chin, diving his eyes into yours.
“I just need somewhere warm, and soft, to slip the tip of my cock so it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Shock parts your lips.
“Felix…”
He hooks his thumb inside your open mouth, a lopsided grin stretching on his face.
“Come on, it’ll just be the tip, I promise. Then we never have to talk about it anymore. You won’t even feel it, I swear.”
“Just the…tip?” you say, your throat knotting as your gaze drifts down. You take in Felix’s size, swallowing thickly. It matches the rest of him, you suppose. You don’t even think it could fit, not fully. So just the tip is probably for the best. “Nothing more?”
“Just the tip. And I’ll talk to my dad first thing in the morning.” He strokes your cheek, uttering softly, “I bet your mom will be so happy for what you did for her.”
You heave out a deep, resigned breath. Right, your mom. While you’re not too comfortable with what Felix is asking for, if it means he’ll talk to Uncle James, you don’t have it in you to refuse. A favor for a favor. Then you’ll spend the rest of the summer forgetting it ever happened. You can do that.
You peer up at Felix.
“Okay then but don’t…stay too long.”
He beams at you.
“You’re amazing.”
Felix leans back. He removes his shorts fully, revealing himself in all his naked glory.
“Just lay back for me, cousin,” he instructs. He slants his head, satisfaction filling his gaze when you do as he says. “Open those perfect legs of yours.” His pupils swell with lust as you part your quivering thighs.
“Good girl,” he praises.
Felix crawls over you. You freeze. He grips the waistband of your pajama bottoms to slide them off your legs. He takes his time, agonizingly slow as he soaks in every tiny shift on your face. Horror curls your insides. You wish he’d just get it over with. But it’s clear Felix wishes to enjoy every mortifying second of this.
Your panties are next. Once again, he drags it out. Warmth blooms in your face as cool air hits your bare folds. It’s worse than last time, because there’s nothing to dull your senses, or pretend it isn’t happening.
“Don’t close your legs. I want to see everything,” he says when you try to hide from him. His throat bobs, hunger lurking in his eyes as he licks his lips. “You have a really pretty pussy, you know that, cousin?”
“Please, don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“B-Because it’s embarrassing.”
He smirks.
“You’re so fucking cute.”
Your cousin plucks the discarded camera and points it at your face. The blinding light sears your eyelids as he quickly snaps a series of pictures of you in the compromising position.
Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your pulse soaring.
“W-Why did you just take a picture?”
“Because I want to remember you like this.”
He chortles as you try to snatch the camera from his hands, keeping it out of your reach with ease with his long arm.
“Delete it, Felix,” you plead.
He tilts his head, his expression dripping with mischief.
“Sure, if you do everything I say, I’ll delete it.”
Tears brim beneath your lashes. You want to trust Felix. You really do. But he always asks for more. You wonder where it’ll end, if it ever will.
“You promise?”
“Of course. I’d never lie to you, cousin.”
He places the camera on the floor near the bed. If you thought you could get past him, destroy the camera, you would. However you’re beginning to realize something about Felix. He always gets his way.
He crawls his way to you. You don’t resist as Felix nudges you down, trapping you beneath him. The fitful drumming of your heart fills your ears.
He bends down, stealing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips sweep over yours, hungry, feverish. He cups the side of your face, moaning as he explores your mouth. His hands start wandering over your body. They feel everywhere at once, kneading and teasing your flesh. Felix pulls your top over your head so you’re in nothing but your bra.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue stealing your air and sanity. You melt beneath him.
The air is robbed from your lungs when he starts prodding at your entrance. Your fingers clench around the sheets. His thick tip stretches you so much already. You can barely take it.
His voice comes out hoarse and strained.
“You feel so bloody good.”
He pushes a bit more. You tense, your walls aching at his size. Your tearful gaze rises to the ceiling. Felix seizes your chin, pulling it so your eyes lock with his.
“Look at me,” he instructs.
He piledrives into you, sheathing himself inside you completely. Your vision flickers as he finds the hilt of you. Your lips part in a silent scream. Your chest heaves and falls quickly.
“Felix, you said…”
He shushes you, pinning both of your wrists above your head as he begins moving inside you. A wicked glow burns in Felix’s brown gaze. “I know what I said…but it feels too good inside you, cousin.”
“But you promised...” you sob.
He kisses away your tears, his voice mellowing.
“I’m sorry,” he says after thrusting inside you deeply. “I’m so sorry…” Your toes flex, stars creeping in your sight with each of your cousin’s vigorous thrusts. His pace doesn’t relent, even as you weep and plead him with your eyes. He almost seems to pluck joy from your quiet helplessness. His chest brushes over yours as his lips ghost over your earshell. “But I don’t think I can stop.”
Your breathing quickens. As Felix’s cock grazes along your sensitive spots, little whimpers spill from your throat. He drapes one hand over your mouth, still pounding inside you.
“Shh, be quiet for me, cousin. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, right?”
“I think our uncle likes you better than me.”
You look at your brother through your sunglasses. You’re thankful for them. They’ve done a nice job concealing the puffiness of your eyes. You’ve been crying a lot lately. Too often. It started the night Felix snuck into your room and the flood hasn’t really stopped since. All of it turns your stomach. The lying, the sneaking around…the sick, twisted lies. His sick, twisted lies. It was supposed to just be one time.
Felix deceived you.
Every night since that one, your cousin found his way into your room, coaxing you to do things that make you hate yourself afterwards. It’s even slowly escalated to daily trysts. Felix would conjure excuses to steal you away while your other relatives are blissfully unaware. Having his way with you in a dark corner. Fingering you in the library. Cornering you in the maze to taste the nectar between your legs. Your cousin seems determined to make sure no inch of Saltburn isn’t tainted by his wicked desires.
This is a nightmare.
Your mom was so overjoyed on the phone after receiving Uncle James’ payment. And you’re glad you could help. But the cost…Did your mother’s happiness have to occur at your expense? You’re so exhausted, ashamed. You don’t know how long you can stand to be the vessel for your cousin’s lurid fantasies.
Even proper rest is denied to you now, the fear of someone figuring it out keeping you wide awake for hours every night.
“I doubt that,” you say, your lips curving in a stilted smile.
Farleigh leans back in his lounge chair, pushing his sunglasses over his nose.
“Still, good job, little sis.” A wide grin blooms on his face. “Guess being a goody two-shoes has its perks.”
Your chest clenches at your brother’s remark.
As Felix’s eyes find yours from across the pond, your blood freezes. He smiles at you. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. You shift, your attention returning to your brother.
“I-I don’t know about that.”
You thought the awfulness reached its peak. You were wrong. A new brand of twisted is introduced by Felix during breakfast with the entire family.
He sits next to you, smiling at you. You don’t think much of it. Why would you? He’s done this before. Taunt you. Tease you. Torment you. Even in front of the rest of them.
But what he does today, while Aunt Elspeth sits across from you and your brother is on your other side…it’s just ghastly. Impious.
Felix’s digits roam atop your thigh. You shoot him a glare. He pointedly ignores you, carrying a casual conversation with his mom while playing with the hem of your dress.
You focus on your plate. He caresses the inside of your thigh as you bring the fork to your lips.
He presses two fingers against your clothed center. Pushing, pressing and swirling around your tender bud. Your knees rub, heat gathering at the apex of your thighs.
The metal of the fork damn near shatters your teeth as you choke on a mouthful of eggs.
You apologize swiftly, shakily grabbing the glass of water near your plate. You take a long swig from it and clear your throat. Felix’s digits dip further inside you. Your breath hitches. He stops just shy of letting you come apart, bringing you to the cusp only to retreat at the very last second. A meticulously thought out torture.
It lasts for almost the entirety of breakfast, only reaching an end when Venetia rises from the table. You follow right after her, excusing yourself with a tense smile.
Hollow steps take you through an endless series of hallways. You can hardly even think, the enormity of what your cousin just did in front of his parents, in front of everyone, shocking you into numbness. Where will his depravity end? You long for summer to end so perhaps you can finally be free from your cousin.
You wind up in an empty room brimming with dusty books and antiques. You sit in a corner, knees against your chest, as you revel in a rare moment of respite. You don’t get these as often anymore. Not if your cousin has anything to say about it.
As usual, it doesn’t take long for Felix to find you a little later. Your heart skips a beat when his towering frame darkens the doorway, blocking any chance of an escape.
“Playing hide and seek, cousin?” he teases, amusement laced in his voice.
Tears swim in your eyes as you shoot him an accusing look.
“At breakfast, really? Someone could have seen, Felix. M-My brother, he could have seen.”
Rolling his eyes, he hops towards you to take a seat next to you. His rebuttal is disturbingly nonchalant.
“We’re not gonna get caught.”
“I think we should stop,” you sputter, your mouth wobbling.
His brows squeeze together, a mix of annoyance and confusion twisting his features.
“Why?”
You fiddle with the bottom of your dress, struggling to meet his irate stare.
“I’m grateful for everything you did, really, but this doesn’t feel right.”
His cheek pulses, a strange grin dragging his lips upward. Your stomach sinks.
“We’re just having fun, you and I, cousin.”
Your words warp into a watery croak.
“This isn’t fun, Felix.”
A weary sigh drops from his chest.
“It’s because you’re overthinking it,” he says, reaching out to cup your cheek. You turn your head. Frustration flickers in your cousin’s eyes. As you try to stand, he grabs you and shoves you on the floor.
“Felix, no…”
Ignoring your sniveling pleas, Felix hastily unzips his jeans and yanks your underwear down to your ankles.
A strangled sob flows from your lips as he nestles himself inside your wet heat in a single deep, cruel thrust.
You’re a whimpering mess on the floor as your cousin pounds into you from behind.
“Just stop fighting it,” he grunts. He twists his fist in your hair, your scalp singing in pain when he tugs at your roots. Tears stream down your face while your cousin snaps his pelvis into your ass.
“See? This is good.” His warm, heavy exhales tickle your nape. “Doesn’t my cock inside you feel good, cousin?”
“Yes…” you begrudgingly admit, loathing how every time he sinks into you, your toes curl and your eyes roll back on their own, warm tingles dancing through your core.
“Look outside.” You wince as he angles your chin towards the window, his other hand still tangled in your hair. You’re greeted with a beautiful sight of the lush gardens sprawling before the castle. His hot whisper grazes your temple. “Do you see all this? How beautiful Saltburn is…especially in the summer.” His smile carves into your skin.
“One day, all of this will be mine, cousin.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. Shivers course through your spine. “And it could be yours too… if you behave.”
#saltburn#felix catton#saltburn fanfiction#felix catton x reader#dark!felix catton#dark!felix catton x reader#saltburn 2023
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Spellbound Part 1
Normally I would post Caged Bird today, but this has a much larger backlog, sooo! Happy himbo witch time!
Summary: It's a quiet, idyllic life in the town of Hawkins. For everyone but Eddie Munson. You see, his look and cottage scream witch. The long, curly, dark curls, the black clothes, and dark and broody cottage all point to Eddie as a witch. But no. That title belongs to Steve Harrington down the way. In bright and cheery house, dressed in green and a sunny disposition. Things start turn in the town when Chrissy shows up on Eddie's doorstep thinking he's the witch.
~
Eddie Munson was everything one expected a witch to look like. He had long, curly, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore dark makeup and painted his nails black. In addition to the only color palette liked was reds and blacks, he wore lots of jewelry, including many things that people associated with witches like pentagrams, animal teeth, and beads.
The house he shared with his Uncle Wayne was light grey, ramshackle, little cottage with black roof, door, and trim. The front of the house was overgrown with vines and wild flowers.
So he really shouldn’t be surprised when people would knock on the door looking for a witch.
He opened the door with a sigh. “Can I help you?” he asked the stranger.
She was pretty thing, a little younger than him. She had bright green eyes and her strawberry blonde hair was neatly arranged on the top of her head. She wasn’t very tall, but her green dress gave her long lines.
“I need a love charm?” she asked with a blush. “I just want to know if the man my father wants me to marry is the right one, you know?” She twisted her handkerchief nervously in her hands.
Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The witch lives two houses down and across the street. Great big sign that reads: ‘Harrington Witchery, charms, curses, and wishes performed here’.”
She looked down the way at the bright yellow house surrounded by neat plants and the perfect ray of sunlight on the door and then back at him in confusion. The door opened and the witch stepped out. He had honey colored hair and hazel eyes. He wore bright blue robes today and had the sunniest smile.
Eddie could feel his face flush as the witch waved over at both of them.
“Here he comes,” he said with a pinch of dismay.
“Hi,” the witch said brightly. “Are you looking for the witch?”
The young woman looked back at Eddie and then at the witch. “Yes?”
“Fantastic!” he said beaming at her. “I’m Steve Harrington, witch extraordinaire. Please to meet you!”
“Chrissy Cunningham,” she said shyly. “I was wanting a love charm?”
“I’d be happy to help you with that,” he said putting his arm over her shoulder, “let’s leave the grumpy Gus to his music playing, shall we?”
Eddie huffed. “That’s Mr. Grumpy Gus to you!”
Someone smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t you go antagonizing the man who makes my arthritis medicine, boy.”
Steve stopped and turned around. “When do you need a top off on that, by the way?”
“I’m running a bit low,” Wayne admitted. “It was bit rougher this week with that huge storm we had.”
Steve nodded. “I’ll be over with the packet after I’m done with Chrissy.”
“I’ll have the tea ready for you,” Wayne said with a fond smile.
~
Chrissy looked around the house as he led her through to the back of the house. It was neat and tidy with every clearly labeled in a neat cursive hand. There was something bubbling on the fire, but from the smell it was probably dinner and not a potion. She could smell the beef and vegetables.
There were two rooms off the one side and the privy to the other. It was everything the opposite you would expect of a witch’s house. The animals on the other hand fit. One was a raven sitting in the windowsill being fed by a beautiful woman dressed in a dark blue gown. The other was a Tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes, who meowed at her and jumped away.
“Merlin!” Steve admonished. “Be nice.”
The cat stopped in its hasty retreat and meowed back at him.
“Well she can’t help that,” he answered as if he understood what the cat was saying. “Now, run along and actually catch the mouse that has been stealing your food.”
Merlin meowed again and was off.
“He’ll never catch that mouse,” the woman said.
The raven crowed, seemingly in agreement.
“Then you catch it, Circe,” Steve huffed, hands on hips. “I know you can and you complaining about Merlin’s abilities doesn’t catch the mouse any faster.”
The raven crowed and flew off, causing the woman to laugh. “She won’t catch it either.”
“Yes,” Steve agreed, “but with her it’ll be because she doesn’t like being told what to do and not because she can’t.”
Chrissy shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “So about that love charm?” she asked tentatively.
Steve jumped. “Oh! Oh my god! I got so wrapped up in familiar politics I nearly forgot you were there. Here, just let me...” he began gathering supplies.
Some twine, a bit of silk, some herbs and oddly a couple of flowers too. Ivy, lilac and pansy. He swiftly made them into a doll and handed it to her. “A lock of your hair, and snip of your petticoat will finish the job. Then whisper into its ear all the things you want in your true love. Then the next time you touch your betrothed, you will know if he is your true love.”
“That’s all?” Chrissy asked, staring down at the doll, no bigger than her palm.
“Yep!” he said brightly. “Robin will help you with the hair and petticoat. I’ll be in the front room preparing Wayne’s medicine.”
Chrissy blushed and nodded. Robin stood up and wandered over to the desk to grab the scissors.
“Are you a witch, too?” Chrissy asked as she held still for Robin to clip a bit of her petticoat.
Robin stood up with a smile. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Steve is teaching me. I’m still a little clumsy with the potions but I’m good with the herbs. Steve says that I could be a hedge witch!”
“Oh!” Chrissy cried. “I didn’t know there were different kinds of witch. What kind is Steve?”
“The tired kind!” Steve huffed from the front room.
Robin giggled. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m about to cut her hair!” she admonished.
Steve looked over his shoulder and gave her a completely unrepentant grin. Robin huffed and gently took a bit of curl from the base of her head near the neck. She took the doll back from Chrissy and tied both pieces to the doll.
“Now,” she said brightly, “just whisper all your wants and desires for a future soulmate. It’s actually good you’re doing it now. A lot of people do it as kids with childish hopes and dreams which isn’t great for adult relationships.”
Steve came into the room dusting his hands off on a towel. “That’s unfair,” he huffed. “It’s not childish, it’s childlike. And who knows love better than someone who hasn’t been taught to hate yet.”
Chrissy tilted her head to the side. “I think I’m with Steve on that one, Robin.”
“Yeah, well,” Robin said rolling her eyes and stepping back. “Doing it as a child hasn’t done Mr. Witch over here any good. He had his made by his mom when he was seven and fifteen years later, he still hasn’t found his true love.”
Steve threw the towel over one shoulder and put both hands on his hips. “I still maintain that it’s because I’m witch and can’t get out much that’s why I haven’t found them yet.”
“I still thi–” Robin began and then was cut off with a wave Steve hand. She glared at him.
“It won’t last very long,” Steve growled, “but long enough that Miss Cunningham won’t be here for that particular argument.”
“She thinks you’ve already met your true love?” Chrissy surmised.
Robin jumped up and down and nodded with a huge grin.
“Robin is operating under the delusion that the goth down the road is my soulmate,” Steve huffed putting his hands back on his hips. “Never mind, it’s a guy, he absolutely hates me because people keep mistaking my house for his.”
Chrissy blushed a deep red. “Yeah, sorry about that. But it’s the commonly held belief that witches are–”
Steve held up his hand. “I’m going to stop you there. I won’t gag you like I did Robin. But I don’t know where those ‘commonly held beliefs’ come from, but witches have never worn black or had black cats or flew on brooms. Hedge witches in particular favor nature’s colors of blues and greens and browns. But you’re all set to go.”
Chrissy recognized the dismissal that it was and turned to leave. She barely got a single step when she turned around.
“What about payment?” she asked, uncertain. “Surely you need something in payment.”
Steve’s eyes seemed to glow gold for a moment as he spoke. “There is no need to pay for a love charm, there being more love in the world is enough for the spell. And it is only spell that does so.”
“Your other charms and spells have payments?” she asked, now a little nervous.
“Most of them require a trade or a simple favor,” Steve said, seriously, “like running an errand for me. But if you ask for a potent charm, one would almost call a wish, that is all you will get from me. You’ll never be able to find my house ever again. You’ll see me around town and I can visit you. But you require some powerful magic, then that’s it. I will not be used to fix every problem you see fit.”
Chrissy gulped and nodded. She clutched the doll to her chest and ran off.
“Steve...” Robin said, darkly. “There was no need to frighten her.”
Steve leveled her with a glare. She backed off, hands in the air in surrender. He stomped back to his potion, the small cottage darkening with his foul mood. The raven flew into through the window and landed on his shoulder, rubbing her beak on his temple.
“I’m fine, Circe,” Steve mumbled, scratching the raven’s neck. “I think Merlin was right about her. She wasn’t here for a good reason. I think she just wanted to prove to everyone that Master Carver’s son isn’t her soulmate. I don’t think she’s actually interested in finding true love.”
The raven crowed and cawed.
“Of course you caught the mouse,” he huffed, gently shaking his head not to dislodge her from his shoulder. “What did you do with it?”
Circe cawed again and Steve laughed. “Of course you did. Merlin is probably pouting. He’ll play with its corpse once he’s done.”
The raven made a sound suspiciously like laughter and then flew away. Robin came up and put her hand on his shoulder and then pulled him into a hug.
“I heard what you told Circe,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “You’re right of course. Merlin, too. She was trying to hard to believe in your magic. She was just looking for an excuse not to marry dickface.”
“That’s Master Dickface to you,” Steve teased halfheartedly.
Robin snorted. “Yeah well. That’s probably the last we see of her. He’ll turn out to be her soulmate, she’ll be forced to marry him and she’ll live in the ivory tower the rest of her days.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “I’m heading over to visit Wayne to deliver his medicine. I’ll be back later.”
She grinned and jumped up and down. “Maybe the hottie gothy will be there and you’ll finally touch and it’ll be...” she clutched her hands together and batted her eyelashes, “true love!”
He pushed her off of him and wrapped up the blue packets of medicine. He paused for a moment and then took a jar of Mrs. Henderson’s homemade raspberry jam and added it to the basket.
Robin took a loaf of bread from the cooling rack and wrapped it up. “There you go, little yellow riding hood! Of to Wayne’s you go! Don’t let the big bad goth eat you!”
~
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs
2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006
5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
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— all-american
james potter x reader ★ 869 words
"Can you two stop giggling? People are staring."
The boys followed the tallest Marauder through the streets of muggle London, on their way to some American diner Peter had told them about. The purebloods couldn't help but 'ooh' and 'ahh' at all the unusual things they didn't have back in their world. A large neon sign came into view, the 'C' in 'Nick's Diner' flickering on and off. The loud jingle of the bell as they opened the door announced their arrival, only a few other patrons scattered around the diner. A voice from somewhere back in the kitchen called out.
"Welcome in, take a seat anywhere you'd like!"
They decided on a red leather booth near the back corner, a 'Taxi Driver' poster plastered right above the table. The black and white checkerboard flooring and jukebox made it feel like they were in that film 'Grease' their friend Lily makes them watch every other week.
"Evening boys, how's everyone doin'? My name is Y/N, can I get anyone started with a drink?"
James thinks he must've gotten hit by a muggle car crossing the street to get here because he believes he's seeing an angel in person. You just look so pretty, in your little red dress and white apron, curly hair tied up in a ponytail. Your smile. Merlin, he was going to need to get his eyes checked again after dinner because your smile was truly blinding. Were those wedding bells he was hearing?
"I think James over here is good, all that drool should last him a good week or two."
A hard slap on the back took him out of his daze. His eyebrows pinched together and he was about to say something back to Sirius when he realized he was drooling, quickly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater before turning back to you with red cheeks and a sheepish smile.
"A Coca-Cola for me, please."
You think the blushing boy before you couldn't get any cuter. You grinned and nodded, telling them you'd be back with their drinks as you strolled back to the kitchen.
Once James finally took his eyes away from your swinging ponytail, he was met with three shit-eating grins. He glares back but their smiles do not falter, causing James to scoff with furrowed eyebrows. "What."
Dinner goes by in a flash with the friends enjoying their meals and sneakily changing the music from the jukebox, wands hidden under the table. The boys notice they just so happen to have a very attentive waitress, your lovely self coming around to their table often. It was interesting that even after they'd finished eating, you would appear to fill their almost overflowing cups with water or drop off extra napkins. James did nothing but send a dopey grin your way, and he does consider talking to you but freezes the second your big brown eyes stare back at him.
Remus groaned as he watched his friend be so pathetically consumed by you, setting down his now empty mug. "Prongs, tell me. Are you going to ask her out or just sit there with your tongue out like Padfoot begging for someone to throw him a bone?"
"I do not beg!" The dog animagi sputtered, hitting the dirty blonde beside him, "Tell 'em Pete!"
"Piss off Moony, it's not that easy. She's perfect."
Your shift was over, and truthfully it could've been worse. The table of four boys really made up for the more sour customers you had earlier in the day. The disappointment on your face was obvious when you had gone to clean their table and there was no number left behind on any of the napkins.
After finishing your closing duties you walked out the back door and turned the corner to find a large eagle owl perched upon the diner's bike rack. It wasn't too common to see owls in this area, but the shine of its feathers and well maintained claws tell you it's not from around here. Taking careful steps towards the bird, you offer your hand. It expanded its wings and flapped them twice at you before butting its head against the palm of you hand. You smiled and smoothed the beautiful creature's feathers back, now realizing there was an envelope sitting between the owl's talons. Taking the envelope and opening it up, you find a letter written to who you presumed to be yourself.
Dearest Y/N,
You have me infatuated with your beautiful smile and killer table waiting skills. I'm pretty funny and can show you a good time. Not like that though, unless you wanted t
What I mean to say is, I would throw all of England's tea in the ocean again if it meant I could win the honor of taking you out. On a date that is, not like killing you. I promise to make the night magical. I'll come by the diner next week with flowers and hopefully you don't punch me in the face for being a creep.
Yours,
James Potter
Smiling to yourself, you gave the owl one last pet and a thank you before pulling your wand out and disapparating home.
#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders era#james potter#james potter x reader#james fleamont potter#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew
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our little footballer.
find the series masterlist here!
May 2028 | 3 years old.
“Mumma! Mummy!” Finley's voice rang through the house, bright and eager, just before the bedroom door swung open. The sound of his small feet pattering on the floor signalled the start of the day. The sun hadn’t even risen fully yet, but Finley was already wide awake.
“Wake up! I play football today!” he shouted, his excitement contagious.
Leah groaned softly as Finley climbed up onto the bed, his small but surprisingly strong hands gripping the duvet as he scrambled over to her side. He didn't hesitate before plopping himself right down onto her chest, causing her to let out a playful “Ooft!” in protest.
“When did you get so big, huh?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep as she blinked her eyes open to look at him. “You’re still a baby!”
Finley giggled, his blonde curls bouncing as he sat proudly on top of her, his eyes shining with excitement. “Me a big boy now, silly Mumma!” he declared, puffing his little chest out. “I play football today!” He wiggled with joy, barely able to contain himself as he repeated the words.
From your side of the bed, you smiled at the scene, watching the two of them. Leah looked at you with a tired but affectionate smile.
Leah gently lifted Finley off her chest and sat him between the two of you. “And what time is it, Mr. Big Boy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Finley frowned, his face scrunching up in concentration. “It’s... football o’clock!”
You and Leah both laughed at that. “Football o’clock, huh?” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Pretty sure it’s still early, bubs.”
“Early birds score goals, right?” Leah added with a grin. She sat up, rubbing her eyes before planting a quick kiss on Finley’s forehead. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you ready for your big day.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Finley scrambled off the bed, hopping down and running toward his tiny closet where his kit and boots waited. Leah had laid them out the night before, knowing full well he’d be up at the crack of dawn, ready to go.
“Look!” Finley called out, holding up his mini Arsenal kit with pride. “I’m gonna score a goal today! Beffy said I’m the best striker!”
Leah smirked, glancing over at you with that playful gleam in her eye. “Beffy said that, did she?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “You know she’s been trying to claim him as a striker since he was born.”
“Well, we’ll see about that,” Leah said, “He’s got defender written all over him.”
Finley, still holding his kit, looked over at you both, confused. “What that?”
Leah walked over, crouching down to his level. “It means you stop the other team from scoring goals. Like how Mumma does.”
“Oh,” Finley said, considering this for a moment. Then his face lit up. “But I want to score goals like Beffy!”
Leah laughed, shaking her head. “Alright, little striker. We’ll see how you do today.”
You got up as well, heading toward the kitchen to make breakfast while Leah helped Finley into his kit. His little boots were placed neatly by the door, and you could hear him excitedly chatting away as Leah knelt down to lace them up.
By the time breakfast was ready, Finley was already fully dressed, bouncing from foot to foot as he waited impatiently.
“Look, Mummy!” he called out, running toward you in his mini kit, his boots thudding against the floor. “I’m ready!”
“You sure are,” you said, smiling as you set his plate down. “Now let’s make sure you eat something before all that running around.”
Finley, never one to sit still for long, hurriedly ate his breakfast, his legs swinging beneath the table. He had gotten so big over the past three years and you sometimes wondered where your tiny baby had gone.
He was now in preschool for two days of the week and was a little chatterbox, you and Leah never heard a minute of silence anymore.
A few weeks ago, Leah had insisted on getting him the best pair of boots, even though you knew he'd outgrow them in a matter of months. She’d picked up a tiny pair, with bright blue stripes running along the sides.
“He looks so grown up,” Leah said, her voice cracking just a little.
You smiled and shook your head. "He’s three, Leah. He’s still a bubba."
After what felt like an eternity to Finley, the time finally came to head out. The drive to the local park was filled with the sound of Finley’s non-stop chatter. He talked about scoring goals, saving shots, and how Beth and Lia were coming to watch him just like he’d asked them to. His excitement was infectious, and even though Leah tried to stay calm, you could tell she was as eager as Finley was to see him play.
When you arrived, Finley hopped out of the car and immediately started bouncing up and down, his energy at an all-time high.
“There’s Beffy!” he squealed, pointing as Beth, Lia, and Viv got out of their car.
Beth knelt down to greet him, pulling him into a hug as he ran into her chest. “There’s my little striker! Ready to score some goals today?”
“Yes!” Finley replied, nodding enthusiastically.
Viv chuckled, ruffling Finley’s hair. “You're going to be so good, Finn!”
Finley seemed to consider this for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m gonna score goals!”
Lia smirked, nudging Beth. “Looks like you’ve already won him over.”
Leah crossed her arms with a teasing glare toward Beth. “We’ll see about that.”
The session began soon after, and as Finley joined the other kids, the rest of you stood on the sidelines, watching proudly. His excitement was still there, but there was a determination in his little face as well—a little frown identical to Leah’s.
When the ball finally came to him, he took a deep breath, and with one swift kick, sent it straight into the net.
The cheers from the sidelines were deafening.
“Striker!” Beth shouted, grinning as Leah just shook her head with a smile. “See, what did I tell you?” Beth grinned, nudging Leah. “Natural-born striker.”
Leah shook her head, but there was no denying the joy in her eyes. “Beginner’s luck.”
But then it happened again. Another shot, another goal. This time, Finley turned to the sidelines, arms raised high as if expecting a stadium’s worth of applause. And that’s exactly what he got. You and the girls clapped and cheered like you were in the stands of the Emirates.
Beth was the first to run over, scooping Finley into her arms again. “Two goals! He’s definitely following in my footsteps.”
Leah laughed, though her eyes never left Finley. “We’ll see. He’s still got time to be a defender!”
Lia smirked, leaning in toward you. “I’m betting on goalkeeper.”
The session eventually came to an end, and Finley ran over, red-faced and grinning, sweat dampening his blonde curls. He plopped down on the grass, looking up at you and Leah with a satisfied sigh.
“Can I play for Arsenal one day,” he asked as you handed him a juice box.
Leah knelt down next to him, “You just might, buddy. But remember, it’s all about having fun.”
As you all made your way back to the car, Finley chattered non-stop about the session. His excitement was infectious. Leah squeezed your hand as you both walked behind the group.
“Our little footballer,” she said quietly, her voice filled with pride.
You smiled, squeezing back. “Yeah, our little footballer.”
And though it was just the first of many football sessions to come, you both knew it was the start of something special.
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-~ under the table ~-
description: you being an attention-deprived fiance with a partner whose focus is only on the screen. pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x reader genre: smut ; fluff warning: gamer!cheol ; blowjobs ; mutual head ; pussy eating ; rough sex ; foreplay notes: you're engaged
the aroma of coffee filling the air, the birds' chirping on the trees, and the cool breeze flowing through your hair.
this day has been great so far. you just received news that you were accepted in a new agency, your cousin was going to be visiting, nothing could ruin it.
"you fucking killed me!"
i jinxed myself.
"i told you to put it in their base, not in my car." your fiance, cheol, was playing with some friends of his. they do this everyday, even though it pleases you that he's having fun, hearing him cursing or even yelling is starting to annoy you.
"keep your voice down." you entered the room as you placed down your cup of coffee on his desk. the boy grabbing your drink and chugging it all to himself.
"this is too sweet."
"it's not even for you." you stare at him coldly. "o-oh?"
.
a few hours had passed since you came downstairs, you were sure that the blonde and his friends wouldn't be finished until a few hours.
you, being his needy fiance, ached for the man's attention. i mean, it's normal, the two of you would be married in a few months, but you weren't pleased by the man's lack of attention towards you.
you went up back to the room, to see the man still staring on his screen and his headset covering his ears. you knew how quick the blonde would get aroused. as the smart lass you are, you took it as an advantage.
you sneakily went under the man's desk, making sure he wouldn't notice you. you pulled his zipper down, finally getting your fiance's attention.
"w-what are you doing?" you slightly pulled the man's pants down, grateful that he was cooperating with you.
"you wouldn't spend time with me." you made a fake pout to the blonde, as he was still trying to grasp the situation. gently, you grab the man's shaft, as you massage it through the cloth.
you hear the man in front of you grunting, trying to let out moans as he was still connected to the call.
"you good, hyung?" you hear a familiar voice from the mic. you guessed it was one of his friends, mingyu. "yeah, i'm fine.." giving a forced chuckle to his friends.
"do you mind if i mute for a bit? he asked his pals as he looked down at you, licking his lips.
"yeah, go ahead."
you were already massaging the blonde's raw cock. you tease him a bit, as you rub the tip a few times before it comes into contact with your tongue.
"you could've just called me." he grumbled as he was now grabbing a chunk of your hair.
"you would've ignored me anyway." you finally take in his whole inside your mouth, struggling as the man’s length was certainly big. not that you are complaining.
cheol laid his head back, enjoying the interaction happening in his lower region.
you start to bob your head, as your tongue swirls around his thick member.
"fuck.." you hear the blonde moan in pleasure, meaning you have just achieved your mission. you lift your head up, making a pop as your mouth leaves contact with your fiance's member.
you hop quickly on his lap, straddling him. finally grasping the situation, the boy calmed down and placed a lustful kiss on your lips. he licks the bottom of your lip, asking for entrance, which you gratefully grant him.
one of his warm hands made its way to your waist, as the other was resting on your head. you both pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.
"hyung? you still there?" a voice was heard from the headset. unmuting his microphone, the man answered to his pal to reassure him.
"yeah, i'm still here. do you mind if i leave? i'm kind of busy right now." a smirk crept onto the man's lip, as you heard a muffled agreement from the other side.
without a second to spare, the man swept you up from his lap, and roughly placed you on the bed.
"you brought this upon yourself, i'm not holding back as well." he took his shirt off, as he went to grab a condom from the nightstand.
"oh, please don't." a cheeky chuckle left your lips, as the male grabbed your lips. a rough, but passionate kiss was shared between you two, as his hand went under your shirt.
your top was removed, as you were now only in your undergarments. the blonde placed wet, feather kisses, leading down to your lower region. "well, someone is wet." he smirks as he quickly pulls down your garments.
"you seem eager." you commented on his visible tent growing in his pants.
"you gave me head first."
"right."
you notice cheol going down to your region. "w-what are you doing?" a silent treatment was given to you, which you certainly do not like.
you feel the man's tongue by your entrance, teasing you. the male's tongue now played your clit as you feel it circling inside you.
moans left your mouth, grabbing a handful of his locks, his tongue making you close your legs. a chuckle left your lover's mouth, as he spreads it back. "you don't want me suffocating, do you, baby?"
________________________
the rest of the night was filled with love, sex, and sweat. clapping could be heard all over the room, the headboard banging against the walls, it was complete heaven for you.
although a few thrusts from the blonde was painful, it was filled with pleasure as well. each thrust getting sloppier, love bites all over your body, scratch marks located at your fiance's back, you both were panting messes.
.
.
.
.
<3
#seventeen#svt#x reader#fanfic#fluff#kpop#carat#scoups#seungcheol#scoups x reader#choi seungcheol#cheol x reader#seungcheol x reader#scoups smut#cheol smut#seungcheol smut
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my sun
pairing: felix x gn!reader w. 1.6k genre: fluff summary: it's felix's birthday, and you decide to spend the day reminding him all of the brightness he brings to your life. from sunrise to sunset, you show him how much he means to you. a/n: happiest birthday to my boy :DDD
Getting up early is hard.
Waking up your night owl boyfriend early on his birthday is harder.
But, there you were, dragging Felix out of bed just past six in the morning. You'd scolded him for staying up past midnight on his birthday, letting him know you planned an early morning.
So, a sleepy Felix was resistant to the idea of getting out of bed so early. You tugged on his arm, trying to physically pull him out. His gravitational pull to the bed seemed to increase in the mornings, so it wasn't working out.
"Felix, honey, it'll only be for a few minutes," You pleaded, "You'll be able to go back to sleep right after."
Your boyfriend made a low grumble sound as he finally budged, waving your hand away as he rolled out of bed on his own. "Fine."
Trying to ignore how enamored you were by his morning voice, you took Felix by the hand and walked towards the balcony. The timing was pretty much perfect, the sun just starting to peek above the horizon and the sky spilling out into beautiful colors.
Felix seemed to wake up a little more at the sight, rubbing his eyes as he looked out onto the view. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smiling. "You see that? That's how I feel when I first see you in the morning."
You heard him snicker softly, trying to turn and look at you. "Is this what you woke me up for? A pretty view and a cheesy one-liner?"
Kissing his cheek, you shrugged. "No, I just wanted to show you how much you're like the sunrise in my life. You're my sun, Felix."
Felix made an over-exaggerated groan and turned away from the sunrise so he could hug you back. He buried his face deep into the t-shirt you had stolen from him to use as pajamas. "Thank you," He mumbled into the fabric.
"Of course, sunshine boy," You rubbed his back softly as he held the hug, but then started moving you back towards the door inside.
"Can we please go back to bed now?"
It was unfortunate that you had to get back up only two hours later, but you had other plans in store. Felix slept heavy, so you didn't have to worry too much about getting out of bed without waking him up.
You threw together a presentable look before you left the house. The first destination was a flower shop nearby, exchanging small pleasantries with the employees as you picked out a beautiful assortment of short sunflowers.
It was then that you walked over to the cafe that you had placed a custom order a few days back. They had pastries and cookies that the staff would decorate, given a theme. You had placed a rather large order, telling them to go all out with the sun and sunflower imagery.
You picked it up in a big bag, your hands now full as you traveled back to the apartment. Getting into the apartment itself was a struggle, but you made it with time to spare and set up the pretty display of flowers and breakfast.
With the pastries, you made some pancakes. It wasn't a planned thing, but Felix was taking longer than expected to wake up. So, next to the pastries sat a plate of chocolate chip pancakes. The waiting continued.
Eventually, you heard a yawn as the bedroom door opened. Out stepped Felix, with his blonde hair in a bird's nest on his head. His eyes were hardly open, so it took him halfway to you to stop and look at everything you had set out.
"Good morning, birthday boy," You said with a smile, sitting conveniently next to all of the food set out for him. The flowers were on the other side of the display. His eyes seemed to look over everything, you included, a few times before it all registered in his sleepy brain.
Rubbing his eyes again, he looked like he had finally pieced it together. "Is all this.. for me?"
Standing up and walking over to him, you gave him a quick kiss before nodding. "That it is, sunshine. I got up a little early and picked this up. Thought you deserved to eat some sweet sunny treats and the pancakes I made when I was bored."
Felix circled an arm around your waist and began to walk over to the assortment of pastries with you in tow. "How did you even.. I won't ask. This is perfect, baby. Thank you."
"You don't have to keep thanking me, Felix," You leaned into his shoulder, "I'm just showing you how much you matter to me today."
Felix detached himself from you, walking over to the plate of pastries and picking up a croissant with a little sun shape on it. He bit into it and looked as if he could melt into the floor, turning around and looking at you dumbfounded.
"You like it?" You couldn't hold back laughter as he stared at you like you were crazy, crumbs still on his lips.
"Are you kidding me?" Felix walked over to you and handed you the croissant. "Try it."
You took a bite, tasting the chocolate filling. Maybe it was the hefty tip you left on the order, but it was perfect. The flaky pastry was buttery and delicious, and the chocolate was rich and smooth. After swallowing your bite, you nodded in agreement. "Yeah. That's actually amazing."
"Where did you get these, anyways?" Felix snatched the croissant back from you and took a bite as he awaited your answer.
"Oh, there's this cafe-bakery spot nearby I've been meaning to show you. When I figured out they would do custom decorating orders, this whole plan came together in my head and I decided to hold off on telling you until I did this."
"How could you hide something like this from me?!" Felix feigned exasperation and betrayal, "I'm heartbroken. On my birthday."
"Oh, you drama queen. Eat your pastry."
The day as a whole went great. You had far too many sunflower-themed things throughout the day that Felix was bewildered. Coming up with all of it wasn't easy, but it was turning out better than originally anticipated.
During the day, you took him to a flowery lunch with Hyunjin and Seungmin tagging along. Things went according to plan when both of your friends showed up in their sunflower outfits, much to the shock of your boyfriend. This was going on longer than he expected.
Things seemed to chill out after lunch, spending a few hours in bed watching shows and putting on a movie as you got a chance to nap after the hectic morning. It was nice to wake up on your Felix's chest as you were so used to doing in the mornings, seeing him smile down at you.
"Hi there," You said with a yawn, leaning up and giving him a kiss.
"Hey, you," Felix ran a hand through your hair, his voice warm and sweet, "You said to wake you up at six so we can get ready for dinner."
Catching up to speed on your own plans, you nodded. "Yep, I did. There's an outfit that I hid in the walk-in closet for you on my dresser, can you go put that on? I'll get mine on out here."
Felix looked at you a little surprised before grinning and nodding. "I shouldn't have expected any less after today. Alright, I'll go see what you picked out."
As he stood up and walked over to the walk-in closet, closing the door behind him, you reached under the bed. Pulling out the clothes you hid to change into, you put on your second flowery, warm-toned outfit of the day.
It only took a few minutes for Felix to join you back in the bedroom. "How do I look?" He asked, walking close and looking your outfit up and down.
You smiled and took his hand in your own. "Amazing. Just how I pictured it," You checked to make sure everything you needed was in your pockets, "Alright, you good to go?"
Felix had to grab a few belongings but you set off to the next adventure. Once getting to the parking lot, you climbed in the car. In the back was a cooler and basket with food and drinks and a picnic blanket.
You drove him out to a desolate hilltop spot with ten minutes to spare, setting up your little outdoors dinner on the blanket and Felix happily joining you. He looked out at the view, "So, what's this place for?"
"We have to watch the sunset," You answered, "So you can understand how I feel when I see you at night and before bed."
Felix was a smiling mess as he tried to eat his food, but you were entranced with the sun starting to set. The colors were like something out of a painting, vivid and clear.
Your fingers locked with his as your head rested on his shoulder. The view was stunning as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the beautiful colors being encased by the darkening sky. "I hope you get how I feel by now, Felix. You keep me going throughout the day. You're my sun."
Felix wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug. "I think I get it. And next time, I promise I'll do the same and show you how you make me feel, okay?"
"Okay," You hugged him back, basking in his warmth as the cold nighttime air settled on your skin, "Happy birthday, my love."
#felix#lee felix#felix x reader#lee felix x reader#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz fic#felix skz
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Fly Away
Michael Berzatto x Reader
You're a family friend of the Berzattos and you're invited to have fun at their annual Christmas dinner. You think you still harbor feelings for Carmy, but as the evening progresses, you feel something for his brother.
Genre: friends to lovers, former crush on carm, really everything w carm is mostly platonic, unrequited stuff, insecurities, age gaps (reader and carm are 25, Michael is 38), takes place in 2017, takes place in S2E6, lots of angst, anxiety, some fluff, no use of y/n (you have a nickname: Birdie)
Word count: 11k
There’s a bauble and trinket everywhere you look. Festive, Christmas spirit seems to ebb from the very walls of the Berzatto household– and you would be remiss not to compliment it vocally in some way.
Donna is clearly waiting, teetering on a response from you as you take everything in from the front door. And you know how she reacts if you don’t say things in that perfect, supportive tone that she so desperately thrives off of.
“Wow, Mrs. Berzatto!” You clasp your hands, trying not to seem too cloying or ironic. “I love what you’ve done with the house. Such an eye for details.”
“Oh, stop.” She giggles, and lightly taps your shoulder as she takes your coat and hangs it up in the closet.
“No, really. I wish my house was so… Christmassy this time of year.” You shrug, knowing that your dad isn’t the festive type after divorcing your mother.
“Aw. Well, we have love to spread here.” It’s a strange unseen sympathy coming from Donna, and she pulls you inside, and you take off your shoes, shuffling around in your socks and your comfy, hopefully chic, green loose turtleneck sweater. “Except you might have to wait a bit, because some of these fuckers are late.”
There’s that bitter tone you remember from Donna. You don’t really care for that– you tend to have an avoidant personality especially with how your own mother acts sometimes– and she yells out for Carmy and Mikey to greet you.
“Boys! Birdie’s here!” She calls from the stairs, and you suddenly feel self conscious.
Ever since your dad, a former co-worker and friend of Cicero’s, starting taking you as a teenager to these Berzatto hangouts, you have always had a eye for Carmen. It was hard not to be, seeing this bashful, slightly angry, awkward boy, around the same age as you, with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. You felt like sometimes, he really, really listened to you, and that was all you needed.
You wish you could be there for him too.
It’s something you’ve never acted on, never bothered to actually approach him about– he always seemed so absorbed by his own thing.
You relished in the fact that he never had a girlfriend. You felt secure in that, because he just seemed safe. And it’s not like he would’ve been mean about rejecting you if he knew– you were always close to the Berzatto siblings. You were Bear and Birdie, ready to head out on a walk together, while the adults gossiped and drank.
Of course, you haven’t seen him in about… two years now. Around after he left to his apartment, and did his chef-education-training (you’re a bit vague on the details, honestly), and ever since then, as far as you know he’s slowly been doing what he loves. He does text you from time to time, but you’d be overstating those texts’ importance if you pretended it really quantified a relationship.
Mikey clambers down the stairs, wearing what looks to be pajamas, or very chill homebody clothes, and he raises his arm in a big, Italian gesture.
“Oh! Is that little Bird I see?” He exclaims, and pulls you into an eager hug. Maybe a little too eager– you think it’s almost as if you’re comforting him as you hug him back, his face coming down onto your shoulder, as he encapsulates you– and he pulls away, grinning.
He actually looks really good. You don’t know when you started thinking that Mikey was good looking, but it’s true– he has a certain, rough around the edges appeal that you find yourself drawn to.
“Merry Christmas. You’ve been keeping away from us.” Mikey points as you, intended as a stern remark, but you snort.
“Yeah, Merry Christmas. I’ve been busy with work and law school, Michael. I’m not a kid anymore.” You resist the urge to comment on his beard, and then do it anyways. “Are you sure I’ve been keeping away? You’re the one with a hermit-ass beard.”
“Oh… they grow up and just start taking shots at you, don’t they, Ma?” Mikey places his hand over his heart, as if he’s wounded, and Donna shakes her head in agreement, before heading back to the kitchen, already seeming annoyed about something. “Beards are fashionable in 2017, Bird. Maybe come back to our current time– no reason for you to start dressing like a grandma already.”
You scoff at that, pointing at your sweater. “It’s semi-formal, c’mon! It looks nice. Respect the gathering’s rules.”
“It’s my house, babe.” Mikey leans in with maybe a little too much comfort, his eyes shining with some warmth, mirth even, and you don’t exactly pull away– the guy is like thirteen years older than you, and even if he does kid around, play up an older brother thing, you’ve started feeling like he’s restraining something more as of late, maybe some primal level of attraction that he knows better than to mess around with. You know that the feeling is kind of mutual– but you really don’t know how to quantify it. “I’m man of the house, and I say you should wear something that maybe, uh, shows off the pretty twenty-five year old that you are.”
The last part of this sentence has you swallowing a little, and you feel your face turning warm, and Mikey himself looks embarrassed that he’s said it, that he’s given a bit of evidence to your theories– he seems to brush something off, inside himself.
You have never thought you were all that. You’ve always been pretty sure you should be glad that you’ve gotten by without having to worry about your looks. The idea of wearing a nice, somewhat revealing dress to the Berzattos’ house has you cringing, because you know it would just be… bad.
“I’m not–” Mikey scowls at himself and you can visibly see himself fighting something, looking a little anxious, and you tentatively grasp his forearm.
“I know what you mean. I’m not offended.” You smile slightly, making the effort to calm him down a little, because you would never want Michael to beat himself up over you (he really seems to do that as of late and you know you’re not worth the trouble), and he nods and inhales. “You look good, too.”
“Right. Right on, Birdie. You can do what you want, anyways. Not up to me.” He seems to really dial back some of what he said, and before you can respond, Carmy walks downstairs.
“Hi. Hey, Birdie. Merry Christmas.” He says, kind of quietly, and you find yourself somewhat happy to hear him say your nickname again. Carmy looks especially nice– deep blue has always been his colour, it brightens up his eyes– and he has slightly longer hair than you remember.
He leans in for a brief but firm hug, and glances at your eyes once, before looking towards the floor again.
Mikey nods and proceeds to exit to the kitchen, and you’re left with Carmy grappling with what to say.
“How have you–”
“How’s law sch–”
Carmy coughs awkwardly, and you find your face turning warm as he looks towards you.
“Sorry, Bear.” You let him speak, hoping not to scare him away. “How’s everything? You okay?”
“Yeah. Uh… well, I’ve been training at Copenhagen?” He furrows his brows, runs his hand through his hair. “Just learning as much as I can.”
“Oh. Uh-huh.” Your curiosity is piqued– you didn’t know he was in Denmark, much to your disappointment– but you want to pry more of an answer out of him. He doesn’t seem interested in talking about it more than that.
“Sorry. Sorry. Stupid answer, there’s just not much to say.” Carmy shrugs, and then realizes suddenly that you’ve been standing at the foyer of the house for quite some time now, which isn’t very polite or inviting of him. “Wait, hold on. Let’s go sit inside and talk.”
Carmy makes some offhand comment about how you need to speak up sometimes and stop being so nice and accommodating to idiots like him, and you snicker, knowing that this is the Carmy you remember– snarky, ready to fight people on sometimes, even if he is a little weird and bashful. Although he’s short– he makes up for it with his resilience.
Carmy leads you through golden-lit hallways, a certain pepperminty, pine tree scent seeming to overlay the entire house, and there’s bushels and wreathes and mistletoe everywhere, and somehow even more baubles, ornaments, trinkets, knickknacks, all gold and red and warm tones that do make you feel a little fuzzy.
Carmy sits you down in the living room, on the sofa, and you’re next to him, and you place a foot under your knee, trying to feel casual. Not freaking out about him sitting right next to you. Weirdly enough… you don’t think you feel anything anxiety inducing.
Perhaps you’re just getting more reassured of yourself with age.
“So? How is Copenhagen, otherwise? I know Denmark is really interesting, but you’re probably busy with chef stuff, huh?” You prod just a little further. Just out of your own personal curiosity to see how far Carmy will go for you, and he nods. “Any friends?”
“Ah…” Carmy winces a little. “Can’t say if he’s a friend yet, but there is this guy that’s out of this world with pastries. I don’t know if I can meet his standard on that.”
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “Bear, you make my dad cookies all the time. Or, well, you used to. You can’t be that bad at it, considering that he always eats all of them.”
“Oh, really? Fuck, man.” Carmy looks at you in disbelief, settling more into his corner of the couch, closer to the tree, but looking more openly at you. You feel yourself cower a little under his watchful gaze. “I didn’t know your dad enjoyed them that much… I would’ve made more. Did you ever try them?”
“Hm?” You were getting lost in the details around Carmy– the dark blue shirt, the little bits of stubble around his jaw, the tattoos peeping out from under his long sleeves– and you nod. “Ah, I tried a batch around the last time you gave him some. I think it was… macadamia, matcha, white chocolate? Really good.”
Carmy is unreadable, his eyes flickering from the ground to your eyes– you think maybe you’ve embarrassed him a little– but he thanks you. “Where is your dad, anyways?”
“Ah. He’s got the flu, and he was kind enough to not want to infect you guys.” You admit. “Even though he was trying his best to walk over here from our house.”
Carmy remembers that you live in the neighbourhood over. You two used to hang out a lot during elementary and high school. He kind of missed you– something he’d never say out loud, but Carmy knows friends are few with him, and you were always a good friend to him growing up. You were always a comforting presence for him– you never asked him for too much, and he could tell you were being careful to do so. No pressure.
You just became really busy with law school, and he became really busy with chef stuff, and now you’re both… you both just lost touch. He feels bad about it– bad like he always does, with former friends and acquaintances from high school that he’s accidentally ghosted and lost– but at least you don’t seem to be annoyed about it.
He thinks it’s probably because in this case, you pulled away just as much as he had to.
“How’s law school, anyways?” Carmy counts the years in his head. “You’ve either just finished or you’re in your final year?”
“I’m in my final year.” You stretch out your arms, looking eager. “It’s a lot of work– I’m only here because I’m lucky enough to have a bit of a break in the winter months, and I’m ahead on my courses. But, uh… I don’t know. It’s fun.”
“Fun? Wow.” Carmy grins a little.
“What?”
“I don’t know, Birdie. Fun is more… fucking, I don’t know, fireworks or something? Drugs, maybe, yeah.” Carmy watches as you laugh, and laugh, at what he’s said, and again he’s never really sure what’s so funny about what he’s said, but he likes to hear you laugh.
“Clearly you don’t know either.” You snort, and lightly punch his arm. “When did we become workaholics?”
“Probably when we became, uh, adults and entered the workforce.” Carmy states, and you wrinkle your brows.
“We’re not really in the workforce yet, but–”
“What, really? C’mon. You’re a fucking receptionist or some shit, right?”
“Business administration specialist.”
“Yeah, there you go. That’s work, especially with all the school you have to do.” Carmy shrugs. “But what do you really want to be, then?”
“Oh, we getting into dreams, then?” You cock an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think you cared that much, Bear.”
Carmy, for some reason he can’t detect, turns a little red. “No, of course I do. We’re still friends, right?”
“Acquaintances.”
“For real?” Carmy looks back at you, affronted, but you have a little smile and he knows you’re teasing. “Oh fuck you. Stop it.”
“Sorry, sorry.” You shake your head, giggling a little, glad to have so easily fallen back into a comfortable, friendly banter. “Of course we’re friends, it’s just that… I always thought very highly of you, Carmen, and I can’t always be sure that feeling was returned. You know? I assumed that you’d be out doing sophisticated cooking in big, upscale restaurants, and the rest of us would just be reading about it. Forgive me for feeling a little behind it all.”
“No, no, no. You got it all wrong, Birdie.” Carmy half-laughs at how you put him on such a pedestal. “You were always the one doing real work, as Mom would call it. You’re the one who’s actually smart and good at arguing, debating– that’s a real skill coming from me, because I just yell fuck at everyone and hope it works. I always thought you were the impressive one out of all of us.”
You snicker, but you’re actually quite pleased with that, and you feel your heart warm at his praise. “Ah, that’s so sweet. Thank you. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been surviving off of ramen and convenience store food for the last month. I can hardly make the time to cook efficiently.”
“...” Carmy shakes his head. “That doesn’t make me feel better. You’re gonna eat good food today then, I hope.”
Almost as if on cue, Donna calls for Carmy to come help her with something– and you’re left sitting as he tells you that he’s going to hear about your dream job when he gets back.
/
Fifteen minutes later– Carmy is still MIA, and you’re starting to get a little hungry.
You know it’s rude, but luckily Michael comes by and asks if you want a snack.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, and Michael snickers.
“You’re the same girl that can eat a whole number four combo at the Beef. I’m pretty sure you were hungry before you got here.” Michael jokes, and you blush in embarrassment.
“Oh my god, stop it.” You shake your head. “Anyways, yeah. A snack would be nice.”
Michael gives you a wink that strangely has you a little twitterpated, before you shake that off. He comes back a few minutes later, chewing on something himself– and he hands you a bowl full of Italian sausage stirfry.
“Thanks, Michael.” You smile up at him, and he nods, trying not to smile too much back at your gratitude, but he likes how you take a bite and look super relieved, happy with the food. He’s always loved giving food to people– taking care of them. Especially you, for some reason.
Michael heads back to the kitchen, and Natalie comes by and takes his place.
“Birdie!” She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, equally happy. “Oh my gosh, if I knew you were down here I would’ve come by ages ago!”
“Aw.” You beam at her. “That’s okay, Nat. I’m happy to see you too.”
She’s off ranting about how Pete, her husband, is late, and how she can barely manage everything going on, and you’re sympathetic. You know Nat gets more of a harsh treatment from Donna, and you tell her that you’re there if she needs a person on her side.
“Oh, Birdie. I couldn’t do that to you. Even if you are amazing at talking, Miss Lawyer-to-be.” She lets you continue to sit down in your corner of the living room, as she heads off to check on her mom– maybe pour out some alcohol.
Carmy comes back in, slightly powdered with flour on his forehead– and he sits back down, sighing, as he drinks a glass of water.
There’s the slightest air of awkward tension still– even if you and Carmy have fallen back into your old ways, he still keeps a slight distance, one that he’s grown into, and you feel that you have to break the silence. You don’t know if he’s just tired or if there’s some level of irritation of having to deal with all the holiday bullshit, but you take a guess it has to do with Donna.
“That bad?” You grimace, and Carmy matches your expression.
“That bad.” He shakes his head. “She always gets a little woo-woo around these fucking events. Like, I never wanted her to do all of this– but she insists and insists and doesn’t know how to let go of the, uh…”
“Hubris.”
“Yes. Hubris.” Carmy sighs, glad you still have the perfect word for everything. “Whatever. Anyways, haven’t forgotten. Hit me with your dream.”
“Okay, it’s going to sound a little weird, but, um… I’m really interested in becoming a labour relations lawyer?” You feel almost too much glee at the fact that Carmy remembered, and you see Carmy bite his lip, a little confused, so you continue, hoping you don’t sound like too much of a fucking nerd. “Meaning to help employees get out of their shitty situations with wages, working hours, benefits and fight for their rights. Union stuff. I don’t know, just feels like everyone is struggling with this nowadays… might as well push forward and try to help them out.”
“Wow, now that you’ve said that, it makes a lot of sense.” Carmy blinks. “I mean, uh, it’s not just that you’re good at arguing– you always go for the justice part of things. Remember when Michael and Sugar were arguing about cleaning the basement?”
You do remember that. You suggested dividing up either equally or by who owned what, and they eventually came to an agreement based on that. Michael wanted to dip because he was older, and Sugar thought it was demeaning to ask a girl to clean.
“Or when Lee said that women can’t think analytically, or what was it… mathematically?” Carmy laughs as he watches your face turn angry again.
“Yeah. I especially remember that. I told him to think about Ada Lovelace and to shut up.” You wince. “Maybe not the most mature thing I’ve ever said. I don’t think that’s such a great thing… sometimes I don’t know when to let go of arguments.”
“It’s alright, it was funny.” Carmy plays with his fingers. “That being said, I think you’ll be good if you choose to be that. A labour relations lawyer. You’re smart, and god fucking knows we all need the help. You should check out how many chefs get fucked over because they work at places for the prestige of doing so.”
“Damn.” You make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassed over how much praise Carmy has freely given you. “Is that going to be you?”
“Doesn’t matter if it is. Sometimes you gotta do what you can.” Carmy doesn’t really give you a clear answer, and you feel bad for him. Bad that he’s still stuck in that mindset.
/
You can hear people hooting and jeering near the stairs, as you walk around the house, exploring a little. Tiff was grateful that you visited her for a brief moment– she told you being pregnant was not all it was cracked up to be– and now you’re just on the upper floor, near the stair railing, on your phone.
You’re not really one to eavesdrop, but you hear– you believe it’s Mikey and Richie– they’re chanting “Claire! Claire Bear!”
Your stomach drops, as you hear them hoot about how hot she is, whoever this Claire girl is– how stacked she is, apparently, the banging body she has, the glasses no longer ruining her appearance– and although you know it’s gross men talk, there’s a small, sad part of you that wants to be perceived as attractive, too.
Still, even as you find yourself frowning and turning away in disgust, you can’t stop yourself from listening.
You remember her. Claire, one of the neighbours down the street. Went to the same high school as you and Carmy. She was really something, someone of note if you remember the popular kid cliques correctly, but she had largely gone unnoticed by you, and it wasn’t for any reason in particular. You can’t be close with every person in high school.
But still– you feel jealous. Just a teeny bit. What was so different about her?
Sure, she was a nice girl. But weren’t you? You arguably had more history with the Berzattos, and yet… it’s as if you’ve simply blended into the wallpaper, their assortment of home decor and furniture. You’ve always been here, and so you don’t stand out.
You might never stand out.
You can hear Carmy trying his best to argue against them, asking them what they did, telling them to fuck off with their teasing– but he sounds sheepish, embarrassed, righteously mortified in the telltale way one would be when they have a crush, and you feel sick.
They’re heaping compliments on her. You know what they mean when they talk about her like this– she’s the clear, obvious choice, probably closer to the family, more interesting, more affectionate, a genius. You don’t really know Claire that well, but apparently, she’s perfect. And you know you, in your silly frumpy sweater, in your attempts to dress up– you are not. You feel humiliated that you even believed Mikey when he said you were pretty– he was clearly complimenting you just to be nice.
You weren’t even an idea in their minds, not for Carmy, anyways. You don’t even think Carmy is capable of seeing you like that now, and it’s with a crushing blow that you realize you were holding out hope. Mistaking familiarity for affection.
It’s a rookie mistake. One that you thought you were self aware enough not to make, because you’ve always known Carmen Berzatto was just out of reach for you.
You wait for them to leave, and come down the stairs, running into Carmy as he groans in annoyance.
/
Carmy says he needs to wipe some of the flour out of his hair, and you let him go upstairs, not really wanting to look at him, doing everything you can to make your way back to the living room unnoticed. In the meanwhile, Michael comes back and flops into Carmy’s seat on the sofa, next to where you sit, sullen.
“Hey, Birdie.” Michael starts, and you can’t read his tone, and you’re a little annoyed with his fake-nice attention. “Why not sit with me, the Faks, Michelle and Stevie? They’re really good people, I promise.”
“How do you know I’m avoiding people?” You snap back, maybe a little too aggrieved.
“It’s written all over your face, little Birdie.” He touches his knee to yours, and you bite your lip, swallowing your confusion, and Mikey enjoys the fact that you’ve chosen to wear a deep, brick-red Christmas lip colour. It’s hot– he doesn’t get how you don’t seem to be aware that you’re attractive.
He wants to kiss you. Maybe mess up that fancy lipstick and that sweet, annoyingly justice oriented, always-right character of yours. But he keeps it to himself.
“Don’t be antisocial. You of all people shouldn’t be alone during the holidays.”
“I’m not trying to be antisocial. I promise.” You shrug, trying to keep your emotions, that sinking feeling in your gut at bay– the last thing you want is for Michael to see you upset. “I was keeping Bear company, but I can come sit with you guys.”
“That’s my girl.” Michael pulls you up by the arm, and you can feel your face warming at his choice of words– you like being in Michael’s good graces, even if you feel less than great right now.
Michelle, cousin of the Berzattos, has always been sweet to you. She’s impressive in her own right, and as you sit down in front of her and Stevie– she gushes about New York.
“Ah, that’s not to say Chicago isn’t impressive. Right, Birdie?” She smiles at you, not unkindly, and you feel happy to be included.
“Right.” You shrug, knowing that the law firm you work at isn’t all that crazy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re nothing special, not after what transpired just a few minutes ago, and you voice it. “It’s just okay.”
“No, c’mon. You work at one of the top fucking law firms in the city– you’re gonna make it.” Michael admonishes you. “Out of us Chicagoans, I mean, Michelle, before you take offense.”
“Yeah, Mish.” Richie echoes, popping up out of nowhere.
“None taken.” Michelle fixes her eyes between you and Michael– perhaps reading on something that you’re not even really sure how to understand, let alone explain– and she laughs. “Anyways, what was I saying? Right.”
She launches into a story about hating a woman who didn’t understand the Berzatto name. It’s quite funny– you find yourself laughing every now and then, the dull ache in your heart less noticeable, especially with how good Michelle is at telling stories, and somewhere along the story, Michael’s hand has stayed intertwined with yours, without you really noticing. You only notice when he lets go, and again– a pitfall in your stomach, wondering if Michael just feels familiar around you because there’s nothing to be attracted to and thus respectful of– and it’s such a stupid thought, but you still just know you want to feel wanted. You want to get a hold on yourself– remind yourself you’re not owed attraction and there’s nothing wrong with Mikey or Carmy seeing you as just a friend.
You realize with a start that you’re feeling confused about Michael, too. Was it just a weird quirk of his, calling every single girl pretty just for laughs? Could you even trust what he said? Why does Michael’s opinion of you feel way more pertinent and important than Carmy’s does?
You find yourself mulling over these thoughts, not sure of what’s going on around you, and you hear Michael tell the Fak bros, Ned and Ted, to shut up about California, which they do.
Donna starts screaming in the background, which causes you to turn abruptly. “Oh, fuck me!”
Michael turns and looks at you with some caution– he’s used to his mother’s outbursts, but he never ever wants you to face them. You don’t deserve that, you’ve probably never done anything to deserve it. Not like him.
Stevie gets up, much to the surprise of everyone around him. “Looks like Auntie D needs help, huh?”
“No, no, no.” Everyone tries to stop him, including you.
“What?”
Michelle pushes him back down, but he gets back up, resilient.
Lee decides to comment in. “Let him, why not?”
“I’m sure she could use a few extra hands. I’m going.” He goes, and you stand up to follow, not willing to let an innocent person get dragged into Donna’s insanity.
“Wait, Birdie. Where are you going?” Michael holds your hand again, and you turn red at his action– a little angry, a little glum that he seems to care for you, and you can’t even be grateful for it. “Don’t throw yourself to the wolves. It’s not fucking worth it.”
“Not throwing myself– just want to make sure Stevie is protected.” You move forward, your face stony, and Michael lets go of you, sighing as he wraps his blanket around himself, wondering when you got all pissed off, but glad that you’re not so upset that you wouldn’t act all lawyer-y for Stevie.
Lee is glancing at him, while Michelle looks pleased as punch.
“What? What the fuck are these expressions?” Michael looks around questioningly, and Richie gives him a side glance.
“When’d you get all sweet on her, bro?” Richie gags a little. “Not that she’s not your type, but, uh–”
“I’m just being friendly.” Michael dismisses him, leaning back in his seat. “It’s the holidays, she shouldn’t be lonely.”
“Bullshit you are.” Richie sniggers, and Michael lightly shoves him.
“Yeah, I call bullshit too.” Michelle grins. “I can see it– you’re blushing.”
Michael groans, hating to be so obviously vulnerable in front of everyone.
“Well I, for one, think it’s a huge, fucking catastrophic mistake.” Lee starts, and Michael feels himself blanch under the judgement of this guy. “You’re going to ruin that young woman’s potential if you go around messing with her.”
“Lee, she’s not that young–” Neil starts. “I think she can decide that herself?”
“Whatever. This one knows he isn’t right for her– always wants what he can’t have.” Lee mutters, and Michael feels that white-hot rage– the anger he feels bubbling inside of him as of late.
He does his best to swallow it down, but a part of him knows that it’s true. As much as Michael enjoys your random visits over the past two years, he knows– you’re too good for someone like him. Too young, too selfless, too honest and good and pretty, and he feels an overwhelming wave of shame that he came so close. It’s like he just… doesn’t know how to be a good, responsible person, and it kills him on the inside that he could be so shameful, be so abhorrent and take advantage of you like that, and even if there is a tiny part of him screaming that it’s not so black and white– that you could be just as interested, of your own volition, in him as he is in you– he feels guilt.
Michael is ashamed of who he is. Over, and over, there’s that feeling again– kill yourself– that he doesn’t know how to suppress, and he ignores it as he starts up a new story.
/
Natalie is tearing up as Stevie hugs her.
You came towards them in the midst of Donna yelling for Stevie to get the fuck out of the kitchen, and Sugar shushing him and shoving him away, and you now place a hand on her shoulder– clearly Stevie has it handled, somewhat.
When he lets go, she sniffles and you smile encouragingly, albeit a little sadly, and Natalie wipes away a tear.
“It’s okay. It’s fine, it’s nothing. You don’t need to talk to her.” She starts, and you shake your head.
“I’m not going to. I can see that would make things worse.” You squeeze her shoulders, and Stevie nods.
“Yeah, Natalie. But we’re here. We’ll always be here if you want to talk.” He tries, and you smile at her– but something about Nat’s slightly upset, off putting expression, and Donna’s grumbling in the background– you feel your heart seizing a little at the tense emotions, so similar to your own, and you excuse yourself.
You walk until you reach the pantry, hot tears already working their way down your face. Every single negative emotion have come to a head, and you’re in terrible danger of having to explain things if you don’t get it together in under ten minutes or so.
You sit on the high table in the pantry, trying not to cry anymore than you already have, your head between your knees– but something about today has all your nerves on edge, and you know it’s because you put in some effort to come here, to see your dear friends, to look appealing enough, to be someone worth talking to, and now you feel as if they never really cared about you at all.
You know these are lousy, immature feelings. You know you can be above them if you really, truly tried, but you let yourself sink into them further, because something about this environment is terrible and you just can’t let it go.
Even worse, no one has really done anything wrong. If this was a court case, you wouldn’t even have any evidence to make a claim. You’re simply confused, perhaps looking at things from the wrong angles– but the fact that you can’t look at this rationally makes you feel worse. As if you’re not as smart as you believed.
You don’t know how long you’ve been in here, when you hear someone shuffle into the pantry, next to you– it’s Michael.
He’s quick on his feet– you try to move away, let him grab whatever household ingredient he needed– but his full attention is on you as his eyes narrow, scanning your tear stained face and your hunched over body.
“Birdie?”
You can’t quite look at him, and you desperately try to wipe your tears, burying your face more between your knees.
“Hey, no. Birdie.” He shakes his head, grabs your arms. He thinks it’s a little strange he’s had to cheer up two different people in the pantry, but he chalks it up to how his house always is. “What happened? Was it Ma?”
“No.” You sight and swallow down the sobs in your throat.
“Then what was it?” Michael’s eyes turn steely. “Fucking ‘Uncle’ Lee? Asshole. Told me I can’t finish any fucking businesses.”
“But… you run the Beef, don’t you?” You say, amid sniffles, entirely honest about it, and Michael’s eyes soften. “That has to count for something.”
“Yeah, little Bird.” He’s glad to have you here– he doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, not when you’re the only person on his side at this moment. “But why don’t you tell me what’s up?”
“I–” You shake your head, and feel your head hang heavy as you slouch over the table, and Michael leans over you, pressing your head to his chest, and you feel yourself crying silently into his shirt, as he shushes you and combs back your hair, his other arm caressing your back.
Michael’s not the best person– not the most comforting to be around– but he knows, by being an older brother, by being someone people want to be around, he knows how to make it count when he does give in to comfort.
He just wishes he didn’t feel so goddamned depressed himself, so he would know the right things to say. He doesn’t want to be so useless all the time.
“Mikey?” You voice is timid. Small.
He feels both elated that you would trust him with this, and devastated that he’ll never be good enough to deserve your trust.
“Yeah, Birdie?”
“It’s so juvenile, but I…" You shake your head and decide to commit to it. "I wish I was pretty."
“Is that it?” Michael’s arm wraps around your shoulder as he squishes onto the seat of the table, next to you. “You think you’re ugly, huh?”
“I don’t think I’m–” You inhale deeply, and wipe away your tears again. “It’s not about being ugly. It’s more like an objective reality that I have to accept. I’m just not… I’m not anything special to look at.”
“Wow, kid.” Michael tuts and shakes his head. “Ever heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? That stupid fucking mantra, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s true.” Michael almost starts laughing, but you look so solemn and serious, he resists the urge. “You’re not ugly. You might not think you’re all that, but you don’t see what I see.”
Michael tenses, and you watch as he falters over how to explain.
Michael thinks you're so damn annoying with that ardent, sweet expression– even if your tears are staining your face, you still look so grateful to hear him say those words– and it just crushes him. It crushes him to know that you look for his approval so much, when he knows you're worth so much more than that.
He doesn't want to let you down. You and Carmen– he will never be enough for the two of you.
"I don't– I'm fucking stupid, Birdie, don't listen to me." He swallows, but you're hanging onto his words and your face falls again.
"But I can listen to you get all poetic about Claire, right?" You mutter, angry, and you get up to leave– but Michael grabs your forearm, and he's quite a bit stronger than you are.
“Hey. That’s different.” Michael tries, but you shake your head, and you’re left sitting on the table again. “I was only teasing Bear. It has nothing to do with you.”
“I know.” You turn even more glum, and Michael is left feeling terrible, wondering what was so wrong with what he said.
You’re silent for a moment– you know that you like Carmy, but something about telling Michael about it feels weird, like you’re pre-emptively rejecting him rather than Carmy by confessing feelings that are slowly disappearing– and you just don’t want to.
But you know you need to. You need to accept that Carmy would never see you that way.
“I just… for a really long time, I thought that I…” You fall to silence, again, and Michael is staring at you, hanging onto every word, watching your side profile shake as you try to gather your thoughts. “I really liked him, you know? I don’t even know why– maybe he was just the clearly available, safe option, and now that’s not even true and I feel like I’m mourning something that was never even real. How stupid and childish can I get?”
“Wait, Birdie–”
“And I just… I know I’m not like Claire. I don’t know what I got myself into. I don’t even really like him anymore– it’s just that the situation makes it so damn apparent that I am just average.” You huff out your words with an air of finality that even has Michael flinching a little, and he runs his hands through his hair, unbelieving of what you’ve said. “You can’t even say I’m not, Mikey, because I know how you talked about her and it was just so different to how anyone here has ever thought about me.”
“Birdie, shut the fuck up.” Michael breathes out really heavily, pinching his brows, thinking that he regrets everything he said and he wishes he could take it back. “I didn’t really– I was trying to tease Carmy, you know? It didn’t mean the shit you think it does. Hell, I would be way more serious if I was talking about you.”
He takes a beat of silence– should he read your reaction to that, or keep going? And he decides to keep going.
“You can’t just act like you can read everyone’s minds because you’re a lawyer, Birdie.” Michael says it with a slightly lighter tone, and his hand traces the small of your back as you lean against your knees, staring up at him. “Didn’t you learn about intent or whatever the fuck it was? In school?”
“Yeah, I guess.” You admit despite yourself, and Michael smiles but continues seriously.
“I don’t think that about Claire, okay? If anything, I’m fucking embarrassed you heard me talk all of that shit– that was just meant to be, uh, guy talk. I swear.” Michael swallows, feeling guilty that he still had to be so low about it. “I don’t– I care so much about him, I just went too far in working him up. I think it would be a good thing for him, right?”
Hurt flashes across your face– you still don’t think you like Carmy anymore, you just don’t know how to feel about someone else being portrayed as a “good thing.” But you inhale– you know part of getting over it is having to accept this, and you let yourself think and then nod.
“Yeah. Yeah, I could see that.” You agree, and it doesn’t hurt as much since Michael is looking at you sympathetically. “I just… I want to be a good thing, too. Not for Carmy, just…”
“For someone?” Michael answers as you trail off.
“Yeah.”
“Listen, Birdie. I’m gonna tell you something you gotta hear.” Michael has that determined look where you know he’s going to say something smart– he has his fleeting moments of wisdom even if he doesn’t believe in himself– and he goes for it. “I can’t believe no one has ever told you just to, I don’t know, fucking love yourself a little? Like, c’mon, you should be able to like yourself! You’re an incredible person and you deserve– you have the right to be insanely fucking confident and it’s so fucking annoying that you don’t see it.”
In the heat of his argument, Michael’s come too close again, and he can feel your breath on somewhere near his jaw or neck, and he has to remind himself to pull away again.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and Michael combs back a strand of your hair.
“Don’t be sorry. Just listen to what I’m saying.” Michael inhales, thinks over why he can’t do this himself– Tina always tells him to be a little easier on himself, but he just struggles– and he thinks that you look terribly cute so it’s just a lot easier to root for you. “Don’t do it for some idiot guy who will never really appreciate you, little Birdie.”
You can feel the conclusion of that sentence, even if Michael doesn’t quite say it: do it for yourself. Be there for yourself. Listen to the good part of yourself, rather than him.
“Oh. I guess that’s…” You swallow, taking it in, knowing the value of his words. “It’s true.”
“See? You know it.” Michael leans in a little too close again, his face a mere breadth away from your own.
“I think you’d actually make a fantastic lawyer.” You slyly comment amid wiping your face, and Michael blinks and then laughs.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you’d get to see me and hear my advice all the time.” Michael mumbles a little over his words but to his surprise, you nod.
“Yeah, then I’d get to see some idiot who really does appreciate me.” You murmur even more quietly, and Michael, feeling stupid, has a wistful smile on his face that he maybe has not felt in a decade. It’s so sweet– he thinks his heart is bursting with something.
Maybe love. Maybe that jovial, Christmas spirit that seems to emanate as the food smells closer to ready, maybe what Carmen gave him as a kind gift, most likely the closeness he feels with you– not just being close in familiarity, more like– he can make out the little spots and freckles adorning your face, every single eyelash your still watery eyes have, the faint lines in your still-red lips, and it occurs to him that he’s too close. Somewhere during this talk, his hand has stayed around your back, and you have been tentatively tracing his right hand’s knuckles with your own thumb.
Michael knows how it looks. If anyone was to walk in right now (and he’s sure Michelle or Richie have already put it together that the two of you have been gone for a while) they would assume you two are a couple.
He has a sudden air of regret– it’s not because he wants to reject you, he just… he struggles a lot with feeling wanted. He struggles with the standards that people seem to put on him. Michael has always known he’s not a good guy– he doesn’t know how to be the person that everyone seems to think he is. Carmen, Natalie, Richie, you– you all seem to think the best of him, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He nearly had a breakdown watching Carmen look up to him so lovingly.
Before he can pull away– with another responsible refusal, telling you that he’s too old and washed up, and that you deserve the whole world and he is not enough to offer that to you– you gently but firmly grab his face, tracing his cheek, and he thinks it could be wrong– what if you’re just feeling all confused and willy-nilly about feelings because you’re displacing what you felt about Carmen, what if you don’t actually like him and you’re assuming that you do because of his clear attraction to you, what if you’re just feeling the moment and the sweet guidance he’s given you?
Tons of questions seem to flow from his mind, things that he wants to ask you, but Michael thinks fuck it, because you’re leaning in first and pulling him in and it’s something he would’ve never expected in a million years, that you could be just as attracted to him.
He kisses you maybe a little too hard– maybe it should’ve been softer, more gentle since you’ve opened up to him so much, but you kiss him just as eagerly back, and he doesn’t fucking care to be gentle anymore. He’s leaning over you and Michael knows he’s quite a bit taller, so he has to pull you upwards to really reach your lips, and the table the two of you are sitting on is quite small– it shakes a little and there’s not much room for Michael to really feel you.
Until you climb into his lap, because of course you do, and now you’re just tangling your fingers in his hair, and he thinks he can feel whatever migraine that the day’s events have spurred on him slipping away, and his hands wrap around the smallest part of your waist as he pulls you in, pressing his chest against yours.
You feel like Michael’s beard tickles a little– but you don’t mind that. You weren’t sure until you did it that you’ve wanted to kiss him for a while. You feel like maybe you’ve actually been more attracted to him than you ever were with Carmy, maybe even just going for Carmy due to his aforementioned security.
Michael groans, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you sharply inhale as his tongue roams around your own, and he knows he likes hearing you gasp when his hands come up under your sweater, just to feel your bare skin, and you pull away.
Michael comes in too close again, placing a soft yet firm kiss on the corner of your mouth, and you laugh at him, and it’s one of the best sounds he could hear. No longer are you all gloomy and sullen in the corner of the room– but there’s still an air of heat around you two, and he knows he should let you go before things go too far.
“Consider that a Christmas present.” You murmur softly, tapping his face, genuinely smiling despite the smeared lipstick, and you clamber off his lap, and peek out the pantry. “I think you’re good to go eat dinner– let me just…”
You wipe the red lipstick from his mouth using the corner of your sweater sleeve, so not to leave evidence, and it’s an intimate moment that has Michael staring at your hand, to your eyes, and there’s something in his eyes– maybe sorrow, maybe appreciation, but most of all, tenderness, and he takes a silly, soft moment to just kiss your hand. You beam at him.
“How long have you wanted to do that?” You tease him, because you know that Michael has always had that look, and he stiffens for a moment.
“Ah… maybe around when you came back from graduating college.” Michael admits, feeling weirdly high and low all at the same time, but he questions you too. “What about you? Don’t tell me you just decided to kiss me right now. That would fucking… that would be too much.”
His heart falls for a split second– thinking about how again you could’ve just been having a little fling– why would you ever like him? He struggles to think how you could, even after having kissed you.
“No, no. I swear it’s not like that.” You turn a little red and play with your hands. “Um. You’re not like a rebound, Mikey, I just… I think I liked you ever since I started coming around more, maybe around last year? I probably just didn’t notice because I thought I was into Carmy. You know? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Michael tries not to let the relief show through his face too much. “I thought maybe I was… reading too much into it. Putting pressure on you.”
“No, you’re good.” You shake off his concerns. “I don’t think that at all. I really do like you… might’ve just been obsessed with the idea of a childhood friend turning into a lover.”
Michael grins. “Well, who’s to say that didn’t fucking happen, Birdie? Are we not childhood friends?”
“Eh… kind of. You’re a bit old.” You give him a so-so motion, and Michael jokingly pushes you a little. “I’m kidding! This is more like– your friend’s hot older brother gives you a chance and it’s crazy and exciting and you just want to know more.”
You were half kidding, but you’re so honest about it, and Michael loves it, but there’s still that undercurrent of agony– he wants to just openly like you, too, but he doesn’t want to be such a fucking failure about it.
“I’m gonna just head to the dining table, I think.” You check your watch. “Gotta go think about this a little more– is that okay? Not in a bad way, I’m just overwhelmed with everything that’s happened today…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s okay, Birdie.” Michael presses a kiss into your hairline. He knows it is a lot for anyone to handle– getting over a crush you thought you had, realizing that you like someone else– he gets it. “Take all the time you need.”
“Okay.” You smile eagerly at him and then walk outside through the hallway, wiping your mouth so it looks less kiss-stained, and peek around so no one is looking at you.
Michael feels a million emotions hit him at once, and he knows he has to cool himself down before explaining to everyone where you’ve gone, what’s happened– or he’s certain to implicate himself, and he can’t have that.
/
It all goes to shit not even twenty minutes later.
You’re sitting pretty between Richie and Tiff, who seem to be a little bit… awkward, maybe arguing mentally about something you don’t completely understand. No one has really commented on your disappearance, but you’re sure it’s obvious based on how Michelle and Stevie are whispering and smiling at you.
Michael gets a massive, depressive episode right after you’ve left him. He can’t exactly pinpoint why– he feels like a creep even if he isn’t one. Hell, he only actually met you when you were nineteen– he was in a different state when you started visiting the Berzattos. But even if Michael ignores his potential, old-man creepiness… he also feels like you’re headed for so much more than he ever was, and he knows he’s holding you back if he does this.
For once in his life, he just wanted to be happy. He just wanted to be wanted without the stigma of not being good enough.
You, Carmy, and Nat. He knows you guys are on your way. Michael feels a pit in his stomach as he imagines why you guys all have to look up to him so much– he just happened to be in the right place, at the right time.
He can’t ignore the feeling that he is just a major fucking loser.
That’s why Michael goes and gets high. He knows he’s making a mistake, and he doesn’t want to do something so disappointing– but he figures he’s already a disappointment anyways. He’s grateful you’re not here outside to see how pathetic he really is– how much he craves a hit just to feel a little less shitty. And yes, it calms him down as he feels the high of the painkillers exacerbate positive memories, like with you, Carmy, Natalie– but it still makes his anger, his depressive tendencies strong, too.
When he sits down at the dining table– he’s not that intoxicated, but he knows it’s a little apparent on his face, based on the mild alarm on your own. You’re sitting just far enough from him for there to be plausible deniability, but still– you are worried about him.
“You good?” You mouth, and he waves away your question with an air of fake nonchalance.
You don’t look convinced. You can see the red in Michael’s eyes, the general tension in his shoulders, the unnerving sense of resentment in his expression. You wonder what could have happened in the last ten minutes that you’ve been sitting at the table, why Michael decided to go and get intoxicated just minutes after kissing you.
Were you too much for him? Maybe.
You know Michael gets high. In fact, last Easter, you’re pretty sure he spent the entire time high on something– but you only vaguely know about his anger flare ups. About his negative emotions, the supposed depressive periods he goes through. You’ve seen him argue a bit with Richie, you know he’s gotten a bit harsh with Carmy, but you know he’s a bit more troubled than that. The whole family seems a bit troubled. Natalie has told you that much, and you have your experience with that– your mother and father’s fights are ones that still make you quiver to think about. But with Michael?
You don’t know how much you believed it, until now, because Michael always seemed kind of… like he always had the right thing to say. You almost feel like he’s in the right to get upset, because he’s had a hard time, with his family, some of his luck surrounding his career– especially with how Lee continually riles him up.
The table is formal and nice for a bit. Michael and Tiff converse about something, Carmy asks if you’re okay and you mostly are. Michelle asks Mikey to say grace, and he sounds resentful, again, of Lee cutting him off so often.
Cicero, being the responsible uncle that he is, tries to push off grace to Stevie, who promptly rejects it, and Michelle decides to ease the tension by asking what the hell the seven fishes are all about. Lee, of course, gleefully answers, about the dutch potatoes and the bible.
Michael glares at him and throws a fork. A real, honest-to-god, heavy piece of silverware. It clatters on the carpeted floor– you feel yourself flinch, and you watch Natalie and Pete’s expressions crumble into the realization that Michael is not okay, and everyone seems to look towards him in fear.
“You see what you did, right? You already did that. You already bitched about the dutch oven.” Michael retorts at him, not completely coherent, and you can feel the lights glazing over– the Christmas tree, the wreaths and baubles, everything seems to lose focus in comparison to the red-hot anger that Michael is bubbling over with.
Cicero and Carmy try to call him off, but Michael isn’t listening, and you can tell– he’s in a place to be upset. It’s like a slowly proceeding car crash– as much as you don’t want him to do it, you understand why he’s going to. You feel like there is a bit of a double standard in place here– Cicero seems to want him to respect his elders, and Michael is being kind of childish, but you can’t say you don’t understand why.
Michael asks for Fak’s fork, in direct opposition to Lee’s attempts to play the father in this house. Despite Fak’s insistent refusals, Michael successfully takes it. Everyone speaks with the intent to stop him, and he’s too focused on Lee to stop.
You know you hate Lee too. But such a severe reaction, coming from Michael? It has you wincing a little. You want to pull him away– tell him to be the nice older brother you’ve always known him to be– but you know it takes time. You know it’s probably going to get worse. You try to catch his eye– and he can't quite look at you.
You have faith in him. You know Michael can do better than this– you just hope he can see it, too.
Michael throws the second fork, and you feel regret in trusting him, again, because he’s making things bad but it’s almost as if he can’t help it. You catch Natalie’s eyes– she’s clearly disappointed, too.
Michael feels a sick sense of pleasure, as he often does when it comes to acting out his worst desires. But he feels a flash of anger with himself– is that what he did with you? Is he really this guy? He thinks that he is, he is a bad dude and he can commit to that role if that’s what’s needed.
“Cousin, you’re scaring the normals.” Richie tries, looking at Tiff and you, but you’re still yearning to catch his glance– and Michael can only respond that it’s nothing, everything is fine, and you’re suddenly reminded of when your parents used to fight and how you used to have to be the middle man and convince them that things were alright.
Michael looks towards you this time– but you’re not looking at him. You have your hands neatly clasped in your lap, your eyes are focused on the set of candles in the middle of the table, and you look horribly upset, with your neck all tense as you wait for things to blow over, and he can tell– he’s fucking up big time. Stevie, Carmy, everyone is looking pained, and Michael can only think that he doesn’t give a shit. He wants to make Lee feel just as terrible as he does.
"You see– I can throw forks because this is our father’s house." Michael scoffs back, and there's real agony in his tone. “My father’s house.”
Michelle inhales. “We have lift-off.”
“Okay, you got everyone's attention, so go ahead, tell us a story we've all heard a million times already.” Lee spits out, barely holding back his own contempt for Michael, and Michael starts laughing as if everything’s alright. “Tell a story about how you're living with your mom and you're borrowing money off of her and any other sucker who'll listen to your bullshit.”
Everyone looks towards the table, feeling terribly awkward about Lee’s accusations– it’s not that it’s necessarily untrue, but there’s a hefty amount of his own assumptions, his own bias thrown in there, and you want to speak up.
“Lee, shut the fuck up.” Cicero looks absolutely pissed off at him, and you’re grateful someone has taken some of the heat off of Michael. It’s Lee’s fault, too.
“I’m sorry. I told you not to be a sucker, Jimmy.” Lee comments, and Cicero exhales, exasperated.
“Lee. That’s not really fair– you’re being too hard on him.” You utter through gritted teeth, and Lee’s eyes narrow on you. It's the first time you've spoken, and Michael glances at you– his eyes are bright and he genuinely looks sorry. Sorry he had to go this far.
“Oh, am I? Really, Birdie? I would suggest I’m not being hard enough.” Lee raises his hands, invites you to speak more, and you know that it’s not really your place to do so, especially because Lee and Michael seem to have a lot of history.
But you have your almost-lawyer tendencies, and of course you’re not exactly unbiased either, because you want to see the best in Michael– you want to like him.
"Please, Lee… Michael's working on himself. You don't need to lie to him." You stare at him, and Lee’s face seems to turn darker with that. “I’m sure we all have our issues… it feels like a lot.”
"Is that what he's told you, Birdie?" Lee sneers at you, and you suddenly feel small. "He's a sick, fucking twisted man, and you would trust him, wouldn't you?"
He doesn’t go further than that– but it’s enough that you feel humiliated for being read so thoroughly. It’s obvious what he’s implying– you’re a silly little girl who doesn’t know any better.
“It's fine. It's fine. Because this guy's nothing and he's nobody.” Lee points at Michael again, and his expression sours so much. You watch as Michael seems to zero in on what Lee’s rambling on about.
Natalie shakes her head in little no-no motions.
“Hey… Petey… I just need to, uh… I need to borrow this for one second.” Michael’s got that nonchalant expression again, but there’s pain in his eyes, and there’s a clamour of everyone again telling Michael to stop, calling his name, trying to distract him.
"Michael. Michael. Please don’t do this. Hey. Hey. Hey!" Natalie calls at him, and you know she's just begging for him to leave it alone. “I love you. Okay?”
You watch as Michael, holding the fork, just holding it, clear malicious intent in his eyes, tension building in the air and you feel a little sick, but his eyes are watering and he clearly doesn’t want to do what he thinks he has to.
“I love you too, Sug.” Michael says honestly.
Stevie giggles, Cicero de-escalates things further, and you think you see the light at the end of the tunnel, if not for the fact that Michael is still holding the fork. Still standing up, taunting him, acting like a big old child as Carmy rebukes him– and it’s really just two grown men beginning to get all macho and toxic about who’s tougher, who’s really the man of the house, and they start screeching at each other and you watch as Michael’s eyes glaze over with something, with Lee’s final insult that “he’s nothing.”
You watch as Michael takes his seat. He seems ambivalent, hard to read– he’s not meeting anyone’s eyes and you feel terrible about it.
Donna comes in and takes her seat– she seems rather drunk, too, and the last thing you need is more evidence that substance abuse is a bad thing– and Stevie starts the most wonderful prayer that still isn’t enough to dissuade Michael. You catch his gaze– he’s mulling over something, his eyes are watery, and you want to go over there and talk him down, even if that idea is unwise.
Donna cries over the prayer, and Natalie commits the most cardinal sin that she could at this moment: she asks if she’s okay.
You flinch with recognition as Donna starts screaming at her, about how she is okay and could a person who isn’t okay make such a gorgeous meal, and she exits the room in visible anger, and Natalie begins to hyperventilate, while Michelle tries to calm everyone down.
Donna throws a plate down on the floor, and exits the room continuing to scream– and there’s a beat of tense silence, full of angst and what-nows, and Lee decides to take initiative breaking that silence with a silly joke– almost in a paternal role, again, a hot topic between him and Mikey– and you watch Michael’s eyes start narrowing as he leans against his hand.
Michael throws the third fork.
It’s like every single nerve you felt, every bit of tension that was already in place, comes to a head as Michael starts going batshit, trying his best to attack Lee, while the Fak brothers and Richie are between them, and you can barely think straight as everyone starts screaming at each other.
Tiff almost gets dragged into the chaos, and you're left shielding and comforting her from the fight. Pete and Richie hold Michael off and you're thankful– the last thing you want is to go up in there and get caught in the crossfire yourself. It’s genuinely a blur– you have no idea how bad things are getting until Cicero starts telling them to get the fuck out.
Suddenly, the wall of the living room bursts inwards, the Christmas tree getting dragged in the crossfire, and you realize with shock that someone’s driven a car inside.
Not just any car– that’s Donna in there, driving, and you think for a moment she’s dead. You can’t believe what’s happening– you can feel your heart hammering through your chest.
Michael runs towards the car, tries to open the front door, yelling and asking her what she did, asking her to open the door. She stirs a little.
Everyone else is standing there, in shock, not focusing properly on what to do, and you pull yourself away from the crowd of people, as they stare on in horror. You don’t want to be a part of this, but you are, and you know what a responsible adult would do.
You go outside, into the December night’s cold air, and call 911. Specify for the firefighters and ambulances, because Cicero has a big thing against narcs and cops and you’re not getting into that right now.
Even though you’re freezing, and that’s what you should be focusing on? You’re in an incredible amount of despair because of what’s taken place. You hang up the call and feel exhausted by everything that’s happened, and you wonder if Michael really knows better. If he can be more than this. It’s not something you’re judging him for– but you feel terrible about his circumstances and you want him to get out of there.
Worse, you can’t help but feel a little upset with him. Because you know that Michael didn’t have to stoop that low– he chose to, and that’s what bothers you the most. He let his emotional responses dictate how he was going to act, and you know it’s hard to not be so provoked in this environment, but still: you are concerned and upset with him, and you know you need to take a step back. As much as it hurts you to stay away, you feel like it’s going to hurt even more if you intentionally stay around.
You wait for the ambulance and fire trucks to show up– you take a minute to direct them through the house, and then you trust that someone else has got it from there. Carmy, Natalie, Michelle, Stevie– they’ve got each other, they’re whispering about something, and you know where you’re not needed.
You grab your coat and leave, leave as silently as you can without interrupting everything that’s going on. It’s an strange walk home– ten minutes of you thinking about everything.
You hope next Christmas will be better.
/
Michael comes down from his high hard. Someone’s wrapped a blanket around him, and he’s sitting on the front porch’s staircase, wondering what the hell is going on. Donna’s apparently been taken to the hospital– and there’s a makeshift tarp where the wall has been crashed in. Everyone has gone home.
Where did you go? He has a moment of panic. Are you okay? Did he fuck it up that badly? That you would leave without saying goodbye? Michael can picture the disappointment on your face, and he wishes– he really wishes he was someone else.
He’s stressing really hard, his eyes are beginning to tear up. God, he knew he wasn’t really worthy of your attention– you’re young still, you have the whole world ahead of you– and he wonders if he can apologize. He wonders what he could possibly say to make it right. After such an insane situation, he can’t even blame you for taking off.
Natalie tells him, kind sister that she is, that you were the one to call emergency services. Of course you were– you have a strong head on your shoulders and Michael feels strongly that his family is in debt to you. And then you headed home, but Natalie doesn’t know why.
He does have your number. But he’s not going to call you, not right now– he’s not going to make a bigger mistake and fuck things up further.
Michael sighs, and leans back. He doesn’t deserve to be happy.
#michael berzatto x reader#mikey berzatto x reader#michael berzatto x you#the bear fx#the bear#x reader#reader insert#michael berzatto fluff#fluff#angst#carmy berzatto x reader#jon bernthal#donna berzatto#natalie berzatto#sugar berzatto#neil fak#the bear s2#michael berzatto#mikey berzatto#the berzattos#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#michelle berzatto
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A part two for Changes was requested by @ali-r3n 💞 In part one the reader changes her style to be more like Chrissy's since Eddie has a crush on her.
She hopes this will make Eddie notice her but he doesn't want her to change herself for him and she's crushed to find out that he's not interested in her like that.
The first part of this fic was written so long ago and my writing style has changed a lot 💞
Now that you're all caught up here's the summary for part two;
After realising that Eddie will never be interested in you, you decide it's time to move on. There's a new guy at school called Jenson, he's a metalhead like Eddie and very much your type...
Angst, jealous Eddie, Eddie wakes up and smells the roses, Mutual pining, fluff. Mdni.
💌💞
After your humiliating experience with Eddie you do your best to avoid him. He didn't even want you when you dressed like Chrissy because she was his dream girl. Not you.
You had to accept that you would never ever be his type. Just his friend. His buddy.
Robin met you after school and she could tell by your face that you're big plan to get Eddie to notice you had gone out of the window. Steve watches you concerned as you wipe the make up of you face and attempt not to cry.
"Steve can we stop off for some ice cream. I think she needs it" Robin gestures to you and Steve nods.
"Ice cream and movie night. Does that sound good honey?" You nod and feel extremely grateful that you have such amazing friends besides Eddie.
You would eat ice cream and mope for a while and then you would finally try and get over Eddie. It was better this way, you couldn't stand the thought of him feeling pity for you because he didn't feel the same.
It would ruin your friendship and you never wanted that to happen.
...
Things are awkward with Eddie. Extremely awkward. You don't know what to say to him and he's being overly nice and just not himself with you.
Fuck, you wish you didn't say anything, didn't go ahead with your stupid plan in the first place.
Then to make matters worse principal Higgins calls you into his office. Grudgingly you make your way there and when you enter the office he's talking to a new student that you had never seen before.
He was tall, wild curls of long blonde hair and big brown eyes, he was wearing a Black Sabbath t shirt and leather jacket. Ripped black jeans and black boots. He's glaring at Higgins.
"I don't need a babysitter dude" the principal ignores this mysterious boy and gestures to you.
"Yn will be your guide around school. Your buddy while you settle in. You've been here for two weeks and you've barely made any effort to include yourself in anything Mr Jenson"
Jenson flips Principal Higgins the bird when he's not looking and you stiffle a giggle. He winks at you and you feel your body heat up, all the way to your toes.
"Fine. Lead the way pretty lady" he gestures to you and opens the door.
Hey maybe school won't be so bad after all?
"You can join me and my friends at lunch. We sit at the our own table, the Hellfire table. We play Dungeons and Dragons" you explain and he nods along as he follows you to the cafeteria.
Quickly you explain to the boys about what the principal asked you to do.
"Jenson is new and he needs some friends, people to show him around and get him settled" Eddie who's immediately suspicious of new students, studies Jenson. His big brown eyes sweeping over him and narrowing.
You do your best to explain who everyone is and point out Chrissy and the cheerleaders, you feel that pang in your chest about Eddie again.
Jenson scoffs and turns to you. "I'm not interested in the cheerleaders. I'm interested in you, beautiful"
Wait what? You nearly choke on your can of soda and meet Jenson's eyes.
"Me?" he nods and leans closer to you, so close you can smell his spicy cologne. "Wait, what was I talking about again?" You're kinda dazed by him if you're being honest.
He smirks then leans back in his seat.
"I think I like this table" his gaze stays on you and you hear Eddie mutter something under his breath.
"This table is only for Hellfire members" Eddie's voice is tight and full of dislike. Jenson pouts and turns to you.
"You'll sit with me this week yeah? Help me get settled and all?" You nod and avoid Eddie's livid gaze.
Things will be okay after all...right?
💞
For the next week you accompany Jenson at his table. Eddie isn't happy about this.
"Eddie he's not a Hellfire member, unless you want to see if he's any good at d&d" you suggest and Eddie shakes his head vehemently.
"I don't want him in Hellfire" he pouts and it's kinda adorable. Fuck, no it's not adorable, you're trying to get over this stupid crush.
"Not even for me? He's kinda dreamy" Eddie stills at this and you look away from his fierce gaze. What's his problem anyway? Feeling brave you point out to him that you finding Jenson dreamy is a good thing.
"Things have been weird between us since...well since the other week. You made your feelings clear and I need to move on. We can still be friends and there will be no awkward tension or anything like that" Eddie looks like he's about to say something else but Jenson shows up and the conversation stalls.
"Hey princess" Okay this time Eddie definitely does stiffen and his eyes flash as they turn to Jenson.
"I call her princess, no one else does dude" Jenson snorts and claps Eddie on the shoulder.
"You can't own a name dude. Anyway she likes it when I call her princess. Don't you honey?" Oh shit. You look between the two of them and feel torn. Eddie was your friend and Jenson well maybe someday when you were over Eddie he could be more than your friend?
"Shouldn't you be chasing that cheerleader you like Munson... leave Princess to me" Jenson winks at Eddie.
Your stomach sinks as Jenson goes to wait for you at a table. How could you forget Eddie mooning over Chrissy? It hardens your resolve.
"It's just a name Eddie. Why do you care so much anyway?" you ask him and he doesn't answer. Sighing you head over to Jenson and the knot in your stomach tightens even more.
💞
Eddie is quieter than normal during today's lunch. Dustin can sense something is wrong with him but Eddie's moods could be unpredictable and he didn't want to cause his hero anymore upset.
He didn't like seeing Eddie like this though, he had a funny feeling it was to do with the blonde metalhead currently taking up all of your attention.
Doesn't Eddie notice the way your gaze still strays to him? Don't you notice the longing way Eddie gazes at you?
Then again did Eddie even realise the way he looked at you? Why were the two of you such pining idiots?
Jason who is passing the Hellfire table nudges Eddie and smirks, "Aww freak, looks like you're not the apple of her eye anymore"
Shit. If looks could kill Jason would be dead. Eddie flips him off and Jason walks away laughing.
"Asshole" he huffs and Mike chuckles. "He's right though Eddie. She definitely has a type though doesn't she?" If possible Eddie's eyes narrow even more yet Mike doesn't notice.
Dude, stop talking Dustin begs but Mike carries on oblivious. "If you didn't spend so long pining over Chrissy then you wouldn't have lost your chance dude. It sucks, I'm sorry" Eddie deflates and whispers quietly.
"Do you really think I don't have a chance anymore?"Mike shrugs and Dustin tries to give him a hopeful smile but it doesn't seem to help Eddie who settles back in his chair with a glum expression on his face.
He watches you and Jenson and sighs. "you're right Wheeler. I wasted my time pining over the wrong girl"
💞💞
Even with Jenson being sweet and obviously interested your stupid traitor heart still aches for Eddie.
Robin who likes everyone has her reservations about Jenson. "I saw him flirting with some other girl yesterday, I think he's messing with a lot of girls hearts"
The thought of Jenson doing this should hurt you but it doesn't. Fuck. This was hopeless. How would you ever get over Eddie if you couldn't open your heart to someone else.
"Munson was in here yesterday. I mentioned that Jenson dude and he kinda ranted a bit" Steve says as he stocks the video tapes on the shelves.
"He's been weird with Jenson since I started hanging out with him"
Robin exchanges a knowing look with Steve and they both say at the same time. "He's jealous"
Hope briefly encompasses you then deflates. Eddie being jealous of Jenson? That was ridiculous. Plus Eddie still liked Chrissy didn't he?
"No he's not" you shake your head adamantly but there's no changing Steve's mind.
"Honey, I'm a guy and I know when a guy is jealous. Munson is jealous of this Jenson guy. He's another metalhead honing in on his girl and Eddie is like a feral raccoon warning him off"
A feral raccoon you stifle a smile at Steve's description of Eddie. Speaking of Eddie he comes into the store with Chrissy. Oh.
Suddenly Steve's thoughts seem completely wild and far fetched. See. You try to communicate with Steve that he's completely wrong.
"I really think you should just ask Eddie" Chrissy replies to Eddie and you wonder what. Was he going to ask Chrissy out? You don't want to stick around for that.
You gather your things at the same time Eddie spots you and freezes. Chrissy smiles at you warmly and you return it even though your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest.
"Dude, did you hear that Jenson was in here wanting to ask princess out" Steve suddenly pipes up, completely out of the blue and Eddie's eyes widen as they meet yours.
Jenson hasn't asked you out. If Steve was trying to make Eddie jealous then it wasn't going to happen, you're kinda tired of hoping for something that wasn't meant to be.
"I'll see you tomorrow, gotta get home and cram for this biology test" you hurry out of the store and tj your car.
Blasting out Black Sabbath helps clear your thoughts and you're relatively more relaxed as you get home.
There's the telltale sign of Eddie's van and you nearly jump out of your skin when it comes careening around the corner.
Eddie parks the van and jumps out. His eyes are wild and he jogs over to you still looking panicked.
"Don't date him" he says breathlessly and you pause unsure if you've heard him right. Did he seriously rush all of the way here to say this and why?
"Excuse me?" What the hell was going on?
"Don't date him. He's not right for you, he's egotistical and smarmy and...and he won't treat you right or love you the way you should be loved" you raise your eyebrow and when you speak your voice comes out all shaky.
"And how should I be loved Eddie?" He softens when he gazes at you and reaches out to caress your cheek.
"Like you're everything. No other girl compares to you and you're the best thing that's ever happened to a guy. Like you're the one and you always have been"
A small part of your anger comes roaring back and you groan exasperated. "Eddie. I practically told you I was in love with you. I have been for years and you basically rejected me and now that someone else shows interest in me you get a clue!"
He shrugs sheepishly and nods, "Robin said I was the world's biggest dingus. I fucked up okay? I know that and I know that it was the shittiest time to realise how I feel but I'm begging you, give me a shot and I'll never break your heart again. I promise you that"
You've always wanted to hear him say these words and you're torn between wanting to kiss him or yell at him some more.
"What about Chrissy?"
"Chrissy was a dumb crush, even if she was interested I don't care. I'm over that. Jenson helped me see what's been in front of me all along... It's you. It's always been you"
Well damn. You're still confused though because didn't he just come to Family Video with Chrissy and she was telling him just to ask someone something.
As if Eddie reads your mind he begins to explain. "I ran into Chrissy when I was heading to Family Video and she mentioned I was unusually quiet and everything about you poured out. She was telling me to just ask you out when we were heading into the store and then I saw you and I choked"
You bite back a smile and move closer to him, the need to kiss him feels a little overwhelming now.
"You really are an idiot Eddie but you're my idiot" you add affectionately and he kisses you. It leaves you momentarily stunned at how amazing it feels but then you're kissing him back.
When the two of you break apart you're both breathless, eyes shining and happiness written all over your faces.
"Shit, uh I was thinking maybe I could take you on a date. Maybe we could go to Lovers Lake and camp out for a little bit. Thought it would be romantic sweetheart"
"It's a date" you press another kiss to his lips and head into his van leaving a dazed and smug Eddie strutting to the van once he realised what you said.
💞
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson
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Back in the og days of scarian even before third life there used to be this really popular au, the florist au and grian was a flower shop owner and he would sprout different flowers from his hair and hands depending on his emotions, especially when flustered! And scar was just a head over heels customer. Would love if that au made a comeback
I'll be doing oneshots of each prompt, and if it goes right, I might go back to writing FanFiction
So leeeet's go!
(Modern/City Hermitcraft AU added along)
===============================
3rd person POV (Grian's perspective)
It was a cloudy weekend on Hermit Town, previewing a soft rain later, people walking around the streets, birds (actual birds) chirping and flying away, yet, the flower shop owned by the small blond parrot avian was peaceful and empty.
As he sprayed some water on the inside plants like everyday, a tall brunet with a big X shaped scar on his face entered the shop, his arrival notified by the familiar jingle of the bell above the glass door, the parrot boy's ear wings twitched as he looked up, the dirty blond curls bouncing softly as he met the taller boy with a warm smile "Hello there, handsome! Lovely seeing you here, as always!" The avian spoke in a jokingly flirtatious tone, his British accent strong, walking to behind the counter, pulling up his red jumper sleeves to his elbows, adjusting his white, dirty apron "How can I help you today?" He added, leaning back on his stool.
The taller boy smiled brightly, his vibrant green eyes gleaming with joy, his happiness contagious, making small daisies sprout on the avian's hair "Oh! Hello light of my life! Lovely seeing you too!" Scar beamed, striding confidently towards the counter, his cane clicking softly against the dark wood floor "Just here for the usual! And your number if you may" the boy smirks, leaning against the counter on his elbows, flashing a charming smile to Grian, making the blond parrot earn a soft pink hue on his cheeks and nose tip, butterflies flying around in his stomach, he walked to the wall of wrapping paper and ribbons on the corner, opening a square of a sand colored paper and turning it diagonally "Poppies, lilacs and sunflowers. Something else?" He asked, trying not to look in the elf's eyes.
"Just that! Thank you!" The scarred boy smiled, looking at the flower seeds in the counter, oblivious to Grian's embarrassment. "So... Uhm... are you free tonight?" He asked out of the blue as soon as the boy came back from the back garden with the flowers, making him almost drop the bouquet "W-what?"
Scar's POV
I look at the Grian with a fake innocent smile, watching his face turn a crimson red, almost blending in with his sweater, his parrot wings getting all fluffy, holding back a dreamy sigh at the cute parrot in front of me, my heart racing with anticipation as i waited for his reply, fidgeting with a packet of a mix of poppy and lilac seeds, Cod, i love him so much, i don't even know how I was able to gather the courage to ask him out.
I've loved him ever since i first saw him, taking such care with the flowers around the shop, with those adorable daisies that always show up on his hair when he smiles, the buttercups that sprout when i annoy him, the way his wings fluff up when i flirt with him, the freckles on his cheeks and nose bridge, the way his dark brown eyes shine a dark honey color under the sunset light-
"Scar?" I hear him ask, snapping out of my thoughts, blushing furiously and looking away as I realize I've been daydreaming "Ah! Yes! Sorry! I'm here!" I reply in a rush, clearing my throat "Sorry, lost in thought about...." I look around for a lame excuse "About cactuses!! Yes! Cacti..." I smile nervously, my heart flutters when I hear his cute laugh "It's fine, cacti are in fact interesting, anyway, I just said I'm free tonight after 6pm, why?" He repeats as he finishes the bouquet, wrapping it on the sand yellow paper and tying it with a green and red bow, placing it on the counter and handing me the card machine (idk the name).
I pass the card and take a deep breath, picking up the bouquet and clutching it in my hands, trying to push away the heat on my cheeks "Just wondering if you'd like to..." C'mon Scar! You can do it! Just ask him on a date! You're not a coward!! You came here for that! Just tell him! "To...?" Grian asked, tilting his head to the side, oh my cod he's adorable, okay, you can do this Scar! "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me!" I blurt out rapidly while extending the bouquet to him, feeling my cheeks heat up and turn red.
"Oh..." I hear him mutter, feeling the bouquet being taken from my hands
When I open my eyes, I see his face flushed, miniatures of poppies, lilacs and sunflowers, the same flowers of the bouquet, sprouting from his hair and hands furiously, creating a small garden on himself, his wings poofed and the ear wings covering his face, his hands clutching the bouquet even harder than I was, seeing him like this just made me want to hold him in my arms and kiss his face all over, smell the scent of the flowers in his head.
"Yeah, I'd like that... That cafe down the street at 7?" He asks softly, his voice strained with embarrassment.
"Yeah! Pick you up at 7 then!" I smile brightly, beaming with happiness, holding back the urge to hug him.
This is officially the best day of my life...
I love this little flower
===============================
AND DONE! First oneshot after a long time without writing, please rate it in the comments! Leave more prompts to me in the question tab and thank you a lot for the idea @whatidkwhatimsupposedtowriye I completely loved it!
#desert duo#grian#hermitcraft#gtws#desertduo#hermitcraft s8#scarian fanfic#scarian#desert duo flower shop au#hermitcraft s9#hermitshipping#hermitcraft s10#hermitcraft season 10#hermitcraft smp
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yall I am DEEP in thg trenches. I cannot listen to folk music, hear an Appalachian accent, see the color green or orange, ducks, dandelions, combat boots, snares, signs that read ‘no hunting’, fences, lakes, bridal shops, blonde curls, black braids, small birds, squirrels, bakery’s, paintings, lamb, goat, my big green corduroy jacket, my old teacher named snow, the orange cat that roamed my school and ate my leftovers, my grandmothers colorful old hippie dresses and fancy pins, the forest that literally surrounds my home, the sound of the firecrackers these boys lit near where I sat by a river, my dads shooting earmuffs, and more! without being reminded of the hunger games books!
#literally tweaking#WHEN I CATCH YOU SUZANNE COLLINS#LOOK WHAT YOU’VE CREATED#🫵#a shell of a man!#(I’m a teenage girl)#maybe I should just take pictures of all the things that remind me of her books#the hunger games#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#hunger games
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November 2024 Reading List
Complete
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Summary: Steve and Bucky, being domestic dads during a quiet, cold evening in December. Fluffier than fairy floss.
Family Matters (Series) by attackofthezee (noxlunate)
Captain America And The Accidental Baby Acquisition (Rated: G, Words: 2K) Summary: The baby looks up at Steve with big brown eyes and pulls it’s fists from it’s slobbery mouth to hold them out to Steve. Right. Right. There’s a baby on Steve’s doorstep. Steve can handle this. Aka Steve Rogers And The Accidental Baby Acquisition. Aka sometimes assholes on twitter say "Captain America would never wear a papoose" and you gotta write a fic just to spite them. Nature's Masterpieces (Rated: G, Words: 2K) Summary: “Snow.” Ella says solemnly, pointing towards the window and the white fluff drifting down to gather in piles outside. “Yep. That’d be the fluffy cold white stuff out there.” Steve agrees, “We can go play in it when Pops comes home.” Ella sighs in a way that Steve is 110% sure she’s gotten from Bucky, presses a hand to Steve’s face and says, “Daddy, listen.” In which Steve has a precocious as hell three year old, snow ball fights are had, snow angels are made, and the future is talked about.
Don't Hate the Player (Rated: M, Words: 60K) by LoserOnTheInternet
Summary: Steve breathes heavily as he processes what he just did. The Gamemakers are staring down at Steve with gaping mouths and wide eyes. Shoving his panic down, Steve shoots them a cocky smirk and says, “Thank you for your consideration.” He gives them a lazy salute before dropping the shield and exiting the room. Steve Rogers and James Barnes are this year's tributes for the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games. Being from District 12, their chances of survival are next to none. In order to gain sponsors, the two create a fake star-crossed lovers scenario that quickly goes south once Steve starts to fall for the other boy. In a game where all but one are destined to die, who will be announced victor?
Where Everybody Knows Your Name (Rated: E, Words, 22K) by romanticalgirl & art by kittyandmulder
Summary: Bucky Barnes came back from the war short one arm and pissed off about it. His luck went downhill from there, and now he's listening to Clint, of all people, for life advice. He sends him to a bar that only hires vets and, despite a rough start, Bucky ends up working for Steve Rogers. Which he regrets instantly. Things get better. Bucky gets better. Steve's still an asshole, but maybe that's not so bad.
On The Other Side of a Downward Spiral (Rated: E, Words: 31K) by torakowalski
Summary: Bucky Barnes is barely functioning, let alone living, but when the Avengers find an abandoned baby girl, Bucky has to learn to look after himself, and keep the baby out of Hydra's hands. All while trying to work out exactly what kind of relationship he and Steve want from each other.
#Stucky#Steve and Bucky#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#fanfic#XOXOBUCKYBARNES' Stucky Fic Reading List#november reading list
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New Beginnings
Summary: Y/N transfers to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny and finds herself intrigued by the quiet, sandy haired boy Remus Lupin.
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader, reader not in a specific house
Word Count: 1.4 K
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
masterlist
You wake up in your bed to the sun shining and the birds chirping through your opened windows. You arrived late last night to Hogwarts and slept in a little later than you had liked; It was nearly lunch time. Classes are starting tomorrow, so you are planning to explore the castle a little before then to get used to your new surroundings. Transferring schools in your 5th year was difficult, so you were hoping to make the adjustment as easy as possible for yourself.
Since there are no classes today, you’re free to dress however you like. You opt for a pair of light blue jeans, black converse, and a blue sweater with some vertical stripes over your chest. You sit at your desk and do your usual makeup and hair routines before unpacking the rest of your things. First you unpack your records and record player. You put on your favorite album - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars by David Bowie - while you finish unpacking. You got lucky and your dorm has a big bay window with a built-in seat with cushions and large bookshelves built into the wall around it, which is great for you due to your love of reading and insane collection of books. Your bed is in the middle of the room with a huge bed frame and blue curtains draping from the top. After you are all unpacked, you decide to make your way down to the Great Hall for lunch.
You only have to stop and ask 6 kids along the way if you were going in the right direction. The ever-changing staircases made for a confusing walk there. But finally, you make it down the last set of steps and can see the Great Hall in the near distance. You’re about to turn into the hall when you stop in your tracks as you hear a great boom in the hall followed by smoke and yelling. You see a guy with long jet-black hair run past you first with a glasses wearing brunette on his trail, followed by a shorter boy with blonde hair.
“Come on, Moony, we’re gonna get caught!” you hear the first boy yell. You’re about to turn around to walk into the Hall and see what’s going on but before you could do so, you hear an “oh, shit” and as you turn fully around, are knocked to the floor by someone running full speed out of the hall. You hit the ground and lock eyes with a sandy haired boy who's laying fully on top of you. You’re staring at each other for a solid five seconds before the blonde boy yells at him.
“Moony, hurry up! Snape’s coming!”
Moony, who you gather to be the boy currently laying on you, quickly helps you up, mutters a quick “sorry” and runs up the stairs to follow the other three boys. You can hear them muttering and making fun of him for falling onto you as they’re running away, and you see “Moony” trip again before all four boys disappear up the steps. Just as they disappear, a raven-haired boy with smoke and powder all over him storms out of the hall and up the steps. You make out that he must be Snape and that the explosion was definitely caused by those boys.
You finally gather yourself and you see three girls standing by the doorway who must’ve watched everything go down.
“Quite a tumble you took there. That’s Moony, he’s a klutz,” says a girl with dark, curly hair and a darker complexion, “My name’s Mary. Are you new here?”
“Yeah, my name’s Y/N, I just got here last night.
“Ahhh you’re American! I’m Marlene,” the second girl speaks up. She has blonde hair and a really cool vibe to her.
“You can come eat with us, if you’d like. I’m Lily, by the way,” says the final red headed girl.
The four of you walk into the hall and you cannot contain your amazement at what you’re met with. The ceiling is the highest ceiling you’ve ever seen, and it’s enchanted to look like the sky. Unlike your old school, which had tables divided by the houses, this hall had numerous smaller rectangular tables so that you could sit with whomever you liked. The four of you grab a table and start eating your meal.
“Those boys are the biggest troublemakers in the school,” Mary says, “Always pulling pranks.”
“Yeah, we still love them though,” Lily replies.
“You more than others,” Marlene says to her as she nudges and winks at her.
Lily blushes in response, “James, the one wearing glasses, yeah, he’s my boyfriend. A real sweetheart. Unless you’re Severus, of course.”
“I take it that’s the boy that had all the smoke on him?”
“Yep, you’d be correct. The boys tend to overreact, but he really isn't a nice person. Steer clear of him,” Mary says.
“Noted. So, that guy, Moony, what’s up with him?”
“Ooooo, Y/N’s got a crush already?” Marlene snickers towards you, making you blush.
“Not a crush, but from our five second interaction, I think he’s pretty cute.”
“You should go for it,” Marlene says, “In all our years at Hogwarts, I don’t think I’ve seen him talk to girls that weren’t us for more than a minute. I’d say you have high odds.”
“Oh, I can’t do that. I’m too shy,” you contest.
“Well, that’s perfect! He’s pretty shy himself. What do you do in your free time?” Lily asks.
You list some of your hobbies for the girls, including reading, writing, and music.
“Well, aren’t you the perfect girl for him. He loves all those things. Tell me you like Bowie,” Mary says. You say nothing in response, shocked that they can read you so well, which causes the girls to yell. “You ARE the perfect girl for him. Come we’ll show you around the castle and then we’re sending you off to him.”
Before you can fight them on this, they’re pulling you around the castle showing you every nook and cranny. You’re grateful for this; You wouldn’t have been able to find your way around otherwise. They show you all the classrooms, take you on a tour of the grounds outside, up all the towers, and finally, you end the tour at the library.
“This is the library,” Lily says, “Since you like to read, I’m sure you’ll spend so much time here. Lucky for you, this is Moony’s favorite place! And if my calculations are correct, he should be in there right now. C’mon, let’s go find him!”
Lily is dragging you inside, and she’s a lot stronger than she looks. They drag you to the far back corner of the library in a hidden nook, revealing the sandy haired boy from before sitting on a couch, nose deep in a book. He doesn’t hear you guys approaching at first and once you guys are a few feet away from him, he pulls his head out of his book and looks up. He immediately locks eyes with you, causing both of you to blush.
“Gotta go, bye!” Marlene says as she pulls Lily and Mary away from you, leaving you alone with the boy. The two of you still staring at each other, not knowing what to say.
“Hi,” you say breathlessly.
“Hi,” he says back.
#harry potter#hogwarts#marauders#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#marauders aesthetic#marauders fanfiction#the marauders#marauders era#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin insert reader#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x fem!reader
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❝A Pretty Pink Bow Looks Good On You.❞ | MHA Series
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Author's Note: I'd like to make it clear that I try to make different scenarios for each character rather than having multiple characters turn into the same animal. So, some of these may be random or unexpected, maybe not even thought of from the characters, but I do hope that you enjoy the scenarios.
Warnings: Mild cuss words
Summary: The boys get hit with an animal transformation quirk, and who becomes the lucky candidate to take care of them till it wears off? You guessed right... YOU.
...
(Y/N) rubbed at her fatigued eyes as she inhaled deeply, studies and hero course work had been quite tasking on her that day, draining her of any remaining energy that she may of still had along with the weather taking a drastic turn for the worst, from the morning filled with only the sun, birds chirping many tunes and not a cloud in the sky to the afternoon that turned on its side to dark clouds and heavy rain hitting against her dorm room window and keeping many of its residents locked inside for the evening, preventing anyone from going out unless they had plans to spend the next day with cough syrup and stuffy noses.
Normally she would've found this type of weather as peaceful and tranquil, unfortunately, she had felt like a raging volcano awaiting to erupt, causing all of its hot magma to pour out over the edge because of a certain blonde, blue-eyed boy as he had promised her a movie date in her dorm room under the fluorescent stars that she had stuck to her ceiling, hot mugs of a satisfying beverage and a bag of fluffy marshmallows as an apology after the stunt he had pulled with her classmates that ended him, Bakugo and Midoriya in a week's worth of detention. And with him being over an hour late, she could feel her patience slipping and she had been considering if she should give him the benefit of the doubt, but due to the fact that he had done this a few times, she would be sure that there were no 'get out of jail free cards' for him when he came running back.
Rapid knocking on her door made her flinch, pulling her out of her fixed stare at her wall where her mind ran freely with thoughts, ideas and strategies, turning her interest of direction towards it, probably burning holes into the person on the other side with her glare alone due to the anger that she had been feeling in her chest, obviously not meaning to but sometimes certain emotions caused outbursts at the wrong people for the wrong reasons, something she tried not let slip, especially in the hero course where her partner, or even herself, to be the key to them surviving.
"Come in—" She announced, yet she felt her eyebrows rising a little when her door had been opened quickly and before she had finished her sentence, cutting her off. She looked towards the person who had intruded but her concern started growing when she recognised the crimsoned-haired boy looking like he had just run a marathon and was on the verge of having his knees buckle under him and fainting.
"What the hell?" She asked rhetorically as she got up from her chair, walking towards Kirishima. She watched as he leaned against the door frame, "Kirishima, what happened?" She asked with concern lacing her voice.
"You need to come quickly." He stated without an explanation as he grabbed her wrist and hurriedly walked with her to the common room where she noticed a few puddles of water scattered around the place along with a few of her classmates running after something small around the couches.
"What the hell is going on here?" She asked with confusion, not understanding why the common room looked like a cyclone had just hit it, but she felt like her question had been answered when a blob of blond fur rolled out from under the couch, its big ears twitching and it's fur sticking in different directions, but its eyes widening when it turned its head towards her direction, stopping in its tracks in front of her feet and her arms crossed over her chest.
"(Y/N), take that rat outside and make him stay there!" Bakugo demanded, pointing at the small animal while Sero and Kaminari tried to hold him still as his anger had seemingly boiled over the edge of a full cup.
"And why did you guys bring back a fox with you?" (Y/N) had asked as she knew that the Heights Alliance dorms were no place for a petting zoo, but she also knew that Midoriya was so stiff that he wouldn't dare break a rule of the school and Bakugo rarely cared for a pet, so her suspicions could only lead her to one thing as she looked down at the small creature.
"Monoma?"
The small creature looked like it held a smirk on its face which had seemed impossible but knowing who this said animal was, wasn't exactly not expected. The small creature moving itself closer to (Y/N)'s legs and rubbing its body against them, but falling over as she moved to the side of it, the small animal having to be what looked like an offended expression by the way its whiskers twitched.
"What happened?" She asked after rubbing her hands over her face, the atmosphere finally calming down, at least for the ones who wouldn't have to clean up the watery mess before Aizawa-sensei could hear of it.
"Aizawa-sensei had instructed us, along with Monoma, to attend to help with cleaning up some stuff in the training zone, but it appeared that some students had been messing around near the equipment and one of them must've fired off their quirks, hitting him in the process." Midoriya explained, his hands fidgeting while holding a small net and his face having a few dirt smudges in different places.
(Y/N) took a glance at the furry creature next to her before looking back to Midoriya, "Does Aizawa-sensei know of this?" She asked, her arms still crossed over her chest.
"Yeah, he knows, because he was there when it happened and he instructed us just to look after him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble." He explained further, though agitated grunts from Bakugo told her that they had no say in the argument.
"And his own classmates couldn't take care of him because...?" She asked, awaiting to hear the excuse that she was sure she didn't have to ask for.
"The old man said that if we took care of him, he'd lighten our detention sentence." Bakugo stated irritated, grabbing the mop from Ashido harshly before he began cleaning up the puddles of water.
"He really took you guys through the ringer?" (Y/N) asked, noticing the state of the common room and hearing a few moans and groans of dissatisfaction from the classmates that had been in the common room composing of Kaminari, Midoriya, Bakugo, Sero, Mina and Kirishima.
"Girl, you have no idea," Mina stated, holding up her hand, "he jumped everywhere from the moment he walked in, knocking things over the counter and table, my best nail polish almost lost its life to him after he jumped over the couch." She explained further.
"And now, these two have to look after him, which means that it's only going to get worse from here." She whined, although her response almost had Bakugo jumping through the ceiling from his quirk making small crackle sounds in his palms and for Midoriya to go pale as if he had seen a ghost.
"I'll look after him." (Y/N) stated, making the head of her classmate turn towards her, along with the small furry being next to her, his ears twitching in excitement, something she noticed before glaring at him, "Don't look all excited, I'm not done with you." She stated, making the small creature shrink back but allowed him to move closer to her, placing his small paw onto her shoe.
"(Y/N), you really don't have to— It's our responsibility—" Midoriya tried to reply, only to be cut off by a louder voice.
"You keep that thing as far away from me as possible, one mistake and we're throwing him out the window!" Bakugo argued, making her nod her head in annoyance but also in relief, which she also felt as though Midoriya was relieving a tired sigh, muttering a 'thank you' to her and moving towards the sink to grab a cloth to help Bakugo clean up the place.
"You all should have a good night." (Y/N) said as she picked up the smaller animal next to her, reminding herself to throw him into her bathroom sink to wash off the grime from his fur from which he had been running across the floor, the small body in her arms sticking its tongue out behind her, provoking a few of her classmates to be shocked and further agitated by the fact that even in an animal form, Monoma still held his arrogant nature.
Carrying him to her room and closing the door behind her as she entered and walked straight into her bathroom, making Monoma's ears twitch in curiosity. Closing the bathroom door behind her and placing his small form into the sink after placing the plug in and turning the faucet to the warm side, not too hot, but also not too lukewarm as he had complained to her many times that being too lukewarm didn't allow his body's muscles to relax and having it be too hot made him want to peel himself out of his skin.
Grabbing the bottle of peach scented body wash and placing it next to the sink, watching his big eyes blink at her while his large ears twitched around. She gently brought her hand up to pet his head and around his face as he bumped his head into her hand, his ears flattening in relaxation.
"What am I going to do with you, Neito?" She asked, scrunching her face when she realised that he couldn't answer in this form, but his staring gaze told her that he had understood what she had said, she turned off the faucet after having the sink fill half way.
"Now I don't have pet shampoo but this will have to do, besides it'll be better than smelling like a local stray." She had said, forgetting that he can't answer back, but talking to herself as a way to soothe her nerves.
Squeezing a minimum amount into her hands and placing the bottle back down, she gently massaged the soap through his fur, behind his ears and along his fluffy tail, hearing the small groans of pleasure as she massaged the soil into his fur to rid him of the dirt and grime, although Monoma was no longer finding the situation as a curse, thinking that he should get hit by a quirk more often if this was the treatment he was due to get for it, but then again he liked being able to put his arms around her whenever he wished and of course to insult the students of Class 1A was something he couldn't do in this form, so it was difficult to convince himself to get into a similar situation.
His body relaxing and finding the warm water calming along with the peachy scent from the soap, he spent most of the time watching his lover's face and noticing small things that he didn't notice when he was on two legs, how her eyes had a glint to them when she was focused, or how her tongue would move to the side when she put her mind to something, and especially the dark marks under her eyes, not noticeable unless someone was close to her face, his heart dropping a bit when he remembered how her hard work came at a price and that price would often be sleep, now remembering what an idiot he had been on the many dates he had missed because he chose his ego over her, making his ears droop and his gaze turn towards the water.
Monoma had grunted when he felt a cloth being wiped gently over his face, her hands delicately cupping his face while she wiped around his eyes and muzzle, the warm cloth making him close his eyes and nuzzle his face into her hands.
His ears twitched up and his eyes shot open when he felt her placing a small peck onto his head, rubbing her thumb against his furry cheek when she had pulled away. "I wonder how long this quirk is going to last for?" She inquired, though more to herself than him, but for all he knew, he would wish it was a while.
(Y/N) unplugged the sink to let the soapy water drain out before plugging it in again and opening the faucet to allow new warm water in, gently scratching through his fur to rid it of soap as she knew if she left it in, it would only cause irritation to him and she'd have to hear about it once he got back his human form. Her fingers working through his short fur, and managing to rid him of any soap but still keeping the peachy scent. Turning off the faucet and letting him soak a bit, even though the soap had been cleared out of his fur and now she had been using the cloth to wipe around his face more and over his ears, all while his eyes remained closed and his body laid lax in the sink with the warm water.
(Y/N) bent down to open the cabinet doors underneath the sink, pulling out a blue towel and unwrapping it, placing it next to the sink and unplugging it, her hands gently squeezing on where he had the most fur to attempt to rid him of excess water before picking up his small body and placing him on the towel and wrapping it around his body.
"Now you look like a little fox burrito," She softly chuckled as she carried him, similar to how a mother carries her baby, in her arms to her bedroom where she sat by her vanity and placed him onto the table of it, drying him with the towel to at least get him damp, then retrieving her hair dryer and a comb. Using the comb to brush through and clear any knots from his fur before drying him with the hair dryer and turning him into a fluffy pom-pom, and then combing through his fur again and repeating the process till he was dry and soft.
With Monoma almost half asleep and letting out a big yawn when she had moved to retrieve something out of her drawers, a medium sized box that she set next to him and opened it, his nose picking up on many different smells, some that he liked and some that made his nose scrunch up and his ears flatten.
She picked a bottle with an orange label on it, once she opened it, he could smell something similar to the soap she had used to clean him, although this smelt more fruity than the soap, peeking his interest and moving closer to her to push his nose against the bottle, making her smile.
"You like this one?' She asked him, receiving a nudge of his head against the bottle as she would assume that meant a 'yes'. Placing the bottle down and closing the box, she dropped a few drops of the essential oil into her hand, rubbing them together to evenly spread it out, then gently applied it to his fur, messaging it into the more darker blonde areas and through his fluffy tail, behind his ears and through his chest, all while Monoma thought that the quirk had sent him to Heaven with the treatment he had been receiving, his body relaxing and his muscles feeling like he had all the knots being taken out, closing his eyes and leaning against her, his breathing becoming even and settled out.
(Y/N) had been observing his body language, and she was reminded of why she had agreed to that first date with him, she remembers how he had gone out of his way to try and impress her, though many saw it as him wanting to one-up her classmates, there were the few times where he had been with her without her classmates around, like the time when she had asked him if he would like to accompany her out on the Saturday, just the two of them, though the first few minutes were a bit daunting as he spoke poorly about her classmates, but eventually he had loosened up and started talking to her about the things he liked, why he wanted to become a hero and how he strived to become one after people had shunned him for his quirk.
That's when she saw the true Neito Monoma, the one who strived to prove those wrong who thought his quirk was merely a way for him to mooch off of others, she saw a different side to him and that's what had made her say 'yes' to a date with him.
Even through all the ups and downs through their relationship, each day she found a new way to appreciate him, and he found someone worth becoming a hero for, plus she had overheard from some of the teachers about how his behaviour had changed for the better and none of them knew why but they were happy about it, although she did assume that Aizawa-sensei did have a theory about it, but if he did he never said anything on it. However, Monoma still kept up the part about trying to be better than her classmates, but at least the insults were dimmed a bit.
Blinking her eyes when she heard his small noises and turning her head towards him settling his paw on her arm, thinking she must've just zoned out when he felt her hands stop moving. She smiled at him, scratching his head before she packed away the box with the essential oils in it back into the drawer, picking him up and placing him on her bed.
"I just need to hop through the shower, Neito, then we can both get our rest." She had told him, walking to her bathroom and closing the door behind her, leaving Monoma by himself while the water turned on. With five minutes feeling like mere hours to Monoma, he actually had a moment to sit with his thoughts, had he ever expressed how much he appreciated her?
He remembers their first date and how she had smiled at him, a genuine smile that he rarely saw. He probably rarely saw it because he was always focused on one-upping Class 1A, when did his focus stray? The reason he had asked her out in the first place was because he wanted to know what she was doing to him whenever he saw her, but later he fell for her, and hard at that fact, he enjoyed hearing her reasons for becoming a hero and it motivated him to become better. He had made up his mind at that moment, that he would be better, maybe not to the point of complementing her classmates, but he'd tone down on the insults more.
His ear twitched at hearing the bathroom door open, seeing her in her pyjamas as she walked to the bed, a brush in her hand as she attempted to tangle out any knots. After finishing and tying up her hair in a messy bun, she looked at him before picking him up into her arms again and moving the both of them under the blanket, enough so that he'd be warm but also so that his head was poking out of the blanket, moving his body closer to hers to cuddle further into her neck, curling up into a ball right next to her as she placed her arm around his small body.
"Goodnight, Neito." She said as her eyelids started drifting closed and she allowed her mind to wonder freely until she fell sleep, his soft breathing near her ear like a soothing melody.
Upon the sun rising the next morning, she could've sworn that her pillow felt a lot softer than it did the previous night, nuzzling her face further into it and wrapping her arms around something equally as soft, causing her eyes to open quickly and for the sight before her to almost make her let out a shriek had it not been for the fact that Monoma was awake and had a finger to her lips, sitting bare near her as his blue eyes gazed so lovingly into hers.
"There will be a time and place for you to scream, but now's not the time, my dearest." He reminded her, the blanket pooling around his waist as he laid back, "Though I do find your nuzzling to be quite affectionately tolerable." He stated, making her pull a face that held a tinge of warning to it, not needing to verbally tell him that if he pushed her buttons the wrong way, she'd throw him out of her room stark naked, this only made him smile in response as she turned her head towards the digital clock on her nightstand, the time telling her that they still had an hour and a half before they'd have to get up and ready.
(Y/N) slumped back into his chest, his arms coming to wrap around her and pushing his nose into her hair. Finding the smell of her shampoo relieving to his nose.
"Thank you." He muttered, though very softly, she still caught it, moving her head to be facing him while her hands laid on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pace pick up a small bit.
"For what?" She asked confusingly, though he had thanked her many times before, he usually only did it in the comfort of behind closed doors.
He rolled his eyes, though the smile on her face told him that she had been playing with him but had wanted him to say it.
"For taking care of me." He muttered, his voice soft but at least more hearable.
"Any classmate would've done it." She told him, though his look of disbelief told her otherwise.
"Apparently not your classmates who were willing to leave me out in the rain." He reminded her, his hands drawing small circles on her back.
"Do you blame them?" She asked him, watching his mouth form a straight line which meant he knew she had been right considering all the crap he would sprout whenever he was near them. "But you're welcome, hopefully we won't have a repeat of this again?" She asked rhetorically, but she wouldn't mind it if it happened again, she enjoyed taking care of him while he was small and didn't have as big a mouth on him.
"I don't know, you seemed quite honoured to be taking care of me." He teased, watching her smile, a sight he'd never get tired of seeing for as long as he lived.
"If 'honoured' is even the word you're looking for," She replied, moving her face towards his forehead and laying a small peck. "Though I must say, you would've looked cute with a pink bow tied up in your hair."
Monoma let out a sarcastic laugh before pulling the blanket over the both of them again, covering them in each other's warmth and moving onto his side, bringing her with him and allowing him to move his head into her neck, allowing her to smell the scent of the oil she massaged into his fur the previous night, she now guessed that his hair carried most of it.
"We're going to have to get up soon, you know that, right?" She asked him but received no answer, "Neito?" She pushed, still to receive no answer, finally using her hand to scratch behind his ear, provoking him to grunt and turn his body over to the other side, (Y/N) having a shocked and amused reaction on her face from the reaction, "There's no way you like that."
Monoma simply pulled the blanket further over his head while a tinge of pink dusted over his cheeks, not wanting her to see it.
"Oh, come on, 'noma. I was just teasing," She said as she moved her body over to his, a soft attempt to try and remove the blanket from his face, "Please let me see that handsome face again."
He knew she'd use this type of reverse psychology on him, using his ego against him, undoubtedly it worked, making him move the blanket a small bit away from his face, allowing her to move hers close to his and lay a long kiss onto the side of his head, making her softly laugh at his reaction.
She gently patted his arm that was still under the blanket, "Come on, big guy. We got to get ready." She stated as she moved over him to get started with her morning, meanwhile he sighed at the fact that he had to get up and out of the warmth that he had spent the night in.
Surprisingly, the whole day, he had toned down on his insults towards her classmates, though he did say a few things, (Y/N) noticed he appeared to be walking around as if he had just been named the number one hero, he had been puffing out his chest and was smiling a lot more, though mostly around her, she noticed this change, along with the fact that his hair had kept the fruity scent.
And though she did find the students who had turned him into a fox in the first place, she couldn't find it in her to scold them too badly, considering that her evening went quite smoothly, however they did receive a mouthful from her about playing around equipment.
But she'd have to ask them for a favour again if it meant this side of Monoma would show more often.
...
©ASHER RITSUKO ━━ I do not give permission to having my works plagiarised, copied, modified, or translated onto any other platforms, including Tumblr. On Tumblr, my works are allowed to be reblogged, along with credit back to me. My works belong to me unless stated otherwise.
©KOHEI HORIKOSH ━━ Creator of My Hero Academia/Baku no Hero Academia and whom the characters/plot/anime belong to.
#mha x reader#bnha x reader#neito monoma x reader#monoma x reader#neito x reader#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha x you#mha x you#monoma x you#neito x you#monoma neito x reader#my hero academia#mha#bnha#baku no hero academia
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Chapter 1: The Story Begins! Enter: Cure Hoodie!
(Author's note: I'm not an experienced writer, this is mainly for fun and storytelling! I hope you enjoy! ^^)
~ As birds flew up in the sapphire sky, a celebration of sorts was occurring on land. A new bakery has decided to open its doors for civilians to eat their fill of pastries and breads alike.
The owners, Ichiro and Umeko Hotaru were conversing with potential patrons amidst this joyous occasion.
“Amazing, simply amazing! This bakery is just what Meruhen needs!”
“I’d say, and the theme of the establishment, Little Red Riding Hood, correct?”
Ichiro beamed with pride at the compliments.
“Yes yes, the theme was in honor of our little girl”
Umeko smiled.
“Yes, it’s her favorite fairy tale to date, speaking of… Honey! Are you coming out?”
“COMINNNNN’!!!”
A small brunette girl with twin braids looped around and came bustling out of the wooden structure, smiling and full of energy. She was on theme, dressed in a costume that made her look like Red Riding Hood herself.
“Welcome to Red’s Basket of Treats!” she beamed.
“How cute! Do you like Little Red?” a woman asked playfully.
“YUP! SHE’S SO COOL, SHE BEATS THE BIG BAD WOLF UP BY HERSELF!” The girl practically screamed with enthusiasm.
“HA! That’s not how the story ends…”
A boy with black hair slicked back snickered to himself with his arms crossed against his chest.
“...you just made that bogus ending up, Red!”
The girl stood silently before shifting her posture towards the boy and his blonde friend who seemed to be a bystander in the altercation.
“Yer RIGHT! I made my own happily ever after, you JER-”
“DEAR!” Umeko scolded, not in favor of her daughter’s poor choice of words.
The boy looked stunned as the girl donned in red pleaded with her mom in defense
“Heh, I like yer spunk kid!” he grinned.
“Ya got a name, Red?”
The girl looked taken aback, not expecting the warm response from the boy who just a second ago was picking on her. She smiled with a toothy grin.
“YEAH! I’m Akane, Akane Hotaru!” ~
--------
The sun shone down from the sky above and felt as warm as a fuzzy blanket on a cold winter’s night. It’s a fine spring morning in the small village of Meruhen, located in Panamaki, and the streets were crowded with its usual bustling markets
Nothing really new or exciting happens in this village: in fact, it’s the most easy-paced place you can think of.. Yes, the village filled with simple people with simple goals and simple lives was about to change.
One of the local hotspots of the village is a small bakery known as “Red’s Basket of Treats,” a little wooden bakery in the center of the village, decorated with a gifted steel sign hanging on the side of the building. It’s run by the local Hotaru family, one of the more known families in the village.
The family consists of a husband and wife, Papa Hotaru and Mama Hotaru, as they liked to be called, and their daughter who doubled as their speedy delivery girl! She’s very quick on her feet and isn’t afraid to get a little dirty on the job. The girl’s name: Akane Hotaru.
Akane is less feminine than a lot of the girls in Meruhen Village. She grew up socially awkward around any girl she knew, yet she befriended boys more easily. For this, she became more rowdy and scrappy than most other girls. She was also very… straightforward with her goals.
“HELL NO! I AIN’T DOIN’ THAT!”
Papa Hotaru placed a hand on his brow and grunted in distress. “Akane, please, indoor voices. We don’t want to wake up the whole village.” he sighed with a hand risen to his browline.
“Why? More people means good business– Not that I’d care about that.”
“Akane, please!” He sighed. “Akane, I’m only telling you this for the greater good of the family business.”
“Don’t care. I got my own dreams, pops.” Akane said as she placed her hands behind her head and turned away, clearly uninterested in the conversation she found herself stuck in.
“What dreams? All you do is goof off with your guy friends!”
“Oh! So it’s a crime to have fun now??” she snapped back
“Akane Hotaru I do NOT appreciate your attitude!”
Akane’s mother enters the room, confused as to what the pair could be arguing about this time.
“What is with all this ruckus?” she questioned
Akane swiftly turns away with a ‘Not my fault!’, clearly disinterested in taking the blame on their current heated debate.
Akane’s father, while leaving the room and situation to his wife, mutters a “Good luck, she just won’t listen”, as he forcefully SLAMS the door while exiting.
“Same to him! I don’t wanna take over the bakery!!” Akane hissed in anger
Akane’s mother pinched her nose in frustration, the same argument once again.
“Honestly Akane, we only ask of you this ONE thing. If you TRULY cared for the family name, you’d consider it…”
Akane felt dejected. She didn’t like to see her mother upset. She was usually more reasonable, but as of recently, Akane’s felt a bit unheard when it comes to her own dream.
…whatever that may be....
Wanting to be anywhere else but in her current predicament, Akane noticed something. There was a delivery box well packaged with scones behind her mother that Akane quickly pointed out excitedly, trying to change the subject.
“OH! A delivery? She asked inquisitively
“Hmm? Yes, I was going to ask you to deliver it but it’s quite far-”
“Ah that’s never stopped me before!” Akane cut her mother off while grabbing the box and running out the door with an ‘IM OFF!’
Akane’s mother could only watch with concern. To her, what they were asking of Akane shouldn’t be unreasonable. Everything they’ve done up until this point was for her and her happiness…
“Sometimes… I just don’t know what to do with that girl…”
-----
Somewhere in the nearby woodland, three creatures were flying hastily, as if they were in danger of being caught.
“How much farther, I’m hungryyyy ~lili”
“REALLY, we don’t have time for your complaining! ~lele”
“HUSH! Hurry hurry, we mustn't waste time, we need to find…..”
-----
After delivering the goods to the patron, Akane has a long trek home. She was too tired to run, at least that’s what she told herself, but really she was prolonging her return back, as she dreaded the consequences of her quarrel from earlier that morning. She walked on a path, then on a fallen log for a moment, passed a signpost with a few destinations at an intersection.
“Man….this delivery really WAS far away huh….” she mutters to herself.
Akane started in the direction of home, although with each step she grew more and more uneasy. It’s not easy to walk back to an unstable environment, but Akane just wants to be heard. She wants to be taken a bit more seriously with what she wants to do for her future….whatever that may be…
Suddenly the ground slightly shook, a tremor?? Akane got low to the ground, and waited out the sudden shaking. That was truly odd, this part of land usually never got any earthquakes, Akane thought…
With growing curiosity, and as another excuse to not return home just yet, she decided to do a bit of exploring, entering the nearby woodlands to try and see if there was a source to the sudden shaking of the earth. Maybe she was seeing things, but she could’ve sworn there was an eerie lighting coming from the woods during that tremor, too…
Through some shrubbery and thickets, Akane found herself alone. She wasn’t scared however, she knew she could handle anything that may jump out at her. At least, that’s what she told herself, as she heard three small high pitched shrieks of terror in the distance, slowly approaching her, until- BAM. Three small flying creatures hit her in the face, causing her to fall down!
Before Akane could shriek herself, one of the animals who appeared to be wolven in shape covered her mouth with a ‘SHHH’.
Quiet……..then, Akane heard what could only be described as…. A slithering sound? Was it a snake? No, this being sounded much too large. It stopped right behind them.
Quiet……..
“Hmmm~ Where did those three varmints go~? I wonder….” a sultry feminine voice said, before slithering off, away from the group.
Akane then had a moment to speak
“WHO-” before getting cut off with another ‘SHHH’!
“Do you WANT us to all die, ~lulu??” whispered the wolf
Akane gulped, then continued, with a whisper herself
“I ain’t no Lulu! I’m Akane, and what the heck kinda animals are you??”
And then it comes to her realization.
“WAIT YOU CAN TAL-” with another ‘SHHHH’!
“We can’t tell a simple girl like you about us! ~lulu!” angrily hushed the wolf
“This miscreant is gonna blow our cover, Lupo ~lele!” squawked the swan
“I’m hungry…~lili” Said the cub, clearly thinking more with his stomach as it growled quite loudly
Lupo then turned to his fellow fairy partners, and then to the girl who was a bit brash in his opinion
“We three are royal fairies. We don’t come from this world, girl. ~lulu”
“Oh really? Gee I thought you came from the next town over, OBVIOUSLY talking animals aren’t from this world?! What do you take me for, an idiot?” Akane puffed angrily
“Well you’ve nearly gotten us caught with your loud mouth twice now… ~lele…”
Akane got mad and screeched out without thinking
“WHADDYA MEAN LOUD?!?!”
“My My~” a familiar sultry voice said with satisfaction, she had found her targets after all.
There was a swift motion in the air, as Akane looked up to realize that the top portion of shrubbery they were hiding in had been cut off by a woman…no.
A monster. One that stood up much taller than the mere human girl, by about a couple feet give or take.
Akane quickly got up and ran ahead, quickly stopping to look back to get a better look at what that thing was. She was half human…kinda? With a serpent’s tail. That explains the slithering sound they heard.
Akane noticed the lavender scaled creature’s top half wore a leather crop top with a triangle shaped hole cut near the belly area, an emblem of sorts donned the center of the top, two scythes being held together by a red diamond shaped crystal.
The monster had deep turquoise hair pulled up into a long wavy ponytail, being held up by what seemed to be a sea urchin. Her red eyes pierced through Akane, while her darkly painted lips curled up into a wicked smile.
The woman giggled.
“Three fairies and a girl who clearly found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time? How conveniently easy for me~”
“Uh, what? Wrong place is right, for YOU, you freak of nature!” spat Akane, thinking before speaking again
…
“Hmm.”
The woman raised a huge scythe up to Akane, who gulped.
“Such insolence to involve yourself and THEN insult a beauty such as me.”
Akane was a bit shaken by the giant weapon being held in front of her trembling body, was that real metal? It’s definitely not a prop, the reflective nature of the blade was far too realistic
“Eugh, well at least you have confidence with that fishy smell you have-”
The woman’s eyes grew intense, and swiftly swung her weapon at Akane, who dodged while instinctively grabbing the fairies. She gets the sneaking suspicion those three are not in the wrong in this scenario they’ve found themselves in.
“A brat I see, and a quick one at that. Mock my beauty again and you’ll be the one swimming with the fishes, child” the woman sneered.
Akane was scared. She was just attacked, and threatened by a monstrous serpent woman. And on top of that, there are three talking animals she's trying to protect too.
“Who the heck are you??” she questioned both out of curiosity and also to gain a sense of understanding from this entire mess of an encounter.
The serpent like woman chuckled and did a bit of a glamorous pose at the question that allowed her to talk of herself, even if just for a bit.
“I am Operetta. One of the Grimm Mistresses of the Grimm Empire. And you, insolent brat, are protecting my prey. Now be a good girl, and hand over the animals, maybe then I’ll let you live with your life….for about a few seconds longer than I’d like~”
Akane was shaking, the fairies were too, unable to stand up to the beastly woman in their current state. They were seemingly at a complete disadvantage.
“N-no! I won’t let you have them. Someone who has beef with small animals clearly has something mental going on!” Akane exclaimed without thinking again.
Operetta frowned, clearly not amused anymore with Akane’s pure cocky attitude
“Then I’ll just kill all FOUR OF YOU!” she screeched angrily.
Operetta charged at Akane with her scythe, who kept barely dodging her swings and advances, and ultimately ended up tripping, knocking Lupo away from their group. Operetta took notice of this opening, and swiftly slithered towards the excluded fairy, large weapon in hand just itching to be used.
“Oh~ Well, a fourth of the job done would still be good work~” Operetta said while raising her scythe high at the meek wolven creature, ready to strike.
Lupo cowered in fear, accepting his fate at the hands of the enemy. When suddenly Akane charged in and kicked Operetta in the gut, knocking her back and dropping her weapon in the process.
“PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE, F-FREAK!” Akane sputtered, clearly sounding more afraid than she would like.
“Lulu~….” Lupo was stunned. For a girl he judged as brash a moment earlier saved his life just now… maybe she could become….
“I’LL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THAT, CRETIN!” Operetta screamed while charging at Akane, who was too stunned to move. Operetta got close to attacking her when a high pitched scream caught them off guard.
“LULUUUUUUU~!”
Lupo flew to Akane’s side, as a large beam of pure white blasted down onto the two. The light seemingly appeared out of the heavens, leaving Operetta taken aback.
Operetta gasped at the sudden realization of what was occurring.
“Damn it, don’t tell me this pest is….”
In this white space, Akane felt…safe? Like all time has stopped around her. She felt warm, and cozy, as if she were huddled within some blankets near a bonfire against a cold winter’s night. And then she noticed Lupo, who flew up to the front of her.
“Akane, right? ~lulu I am Lupo, one of the fairies and royals of Everafter Garden.~lulu.”
“....O-ok??” she could only agree, unsure of what was going on now in this moment.
“I’m recruiting you to become a legendary storybook vigilante, known as a Precure! ~lulu! It should grant you powers to help us get rid of this snakely fiend. ~lulu!”
“Pre…cure? Powers??” Akane was surprised at what she was hearing from the small wolf.
“Do you accept? ~lulu” he said, his eyes filled with resolve and anticipation to the brunette’s response.
“Would you stop calling me that!....”
Akane thought… she really doesn't have much of a choice right now, she needs to save herself and these fairies from the beastly foe that nearly had her head just a moment ago…
“Alright! I gotcha, power me up!” Akane said with a newly found confidence.
With that, a red book materialized with a flash of light. It had gold plating on the edges of the cover, and a matching plate in the center that read “Precure Storybook”. Akane hesitantly grabbed the item, as it opened, to reveal a phrase and a slot to insert something.
Lupo reached into his little mirror shaped broach, and pulled out a charm that slightly resembled him a bit. It looked like a wolf’s head with a red ribbon held together by a pink heart jewel at the base of the charm’s center. The edges of the golden base looked decorated as well.
He reached out to give the charm to Akane with a proud grin.
“Use this charm and put it into the Precure Storybook, and chant the phrase written inside to transform! ~lulu!”
Akane was a bit annoyed at being called ‘Lulu’ again, but took the charm and read aloud the phrase written in the book.
“Precure! Curetime Everafter!”
Akane entered the charm with a harmonious ping, and a pen popped out of the mirror of the storybook! She grabbed it, and swirled the tip of the utensil inside the small inkwell on the left page, allowing the tip of the pen to absorb an energy, turning it into a sparkling red color.
With that, she could draw small lines of energy onto herself, with swift and intense motions. It’s as if she had done this a million times before, but for the first time ever. She criss-crossed and swirled, adding bits and pieces of a costume onto herself, one that resembled Little Red Riding Hood, with pink ribbon accents with scalloped white edges against some portions, and peru brown ribbon crossing other portions.
She flicked up her iconic red hood around her head, incentivising her brunette hair to glow, and change shape into a pale pink, with a red gradient. After which small wolf earrings pinged into existence on her ear lobes.
A small woven basket flashed onto the side of her belt, and inside it the Precure Storybook flew, the quill pen not too far behind. The basket clipped shut with a familiar red ribbon with a pale pink heart jewel adorning the center of it.
“Hooded in red, journeying towards victory! Cure Hoodie!”
As the beam of light dispersed, Operetta was stunned at the outcome of what unfolded. The annoyance of a girl who once stood before her had now looked entirely different, and more powerful than before.
“Cure….Hoodie? As in, PRECURE?” Operetta exclaimed, in disbelief of the unfortunate turn of events on her side of all of this.
Hoodie took on a more battle-ready stance. It was time for her to let loose all of her anger, and protect the small creatures that stare in amazement behind her.
-End Chapter 1-
#precure#once upon precure#onceupre#precure fandom#precure fanseries#fancure series#fancure#fancure hub#chapter 1#long post#long reads
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