#but at least i get to practice. drawing glowing
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recallback-art · 1 year ago
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Day 9: Future!! I have no excuse for being late today, I just slept late and forgot to post >>;
I wanted to contrast the past piece, so here's a glimpse into Lucero's future. It contains a lot of those important, sweetly mundane moments with people who actually care for every part of him.
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comicaurora · 1 month ago
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hi, you seem to be drawing a lot. can you please tell me, will drawing ever become easy? or is it always a struggle?
(because for me, drawing seems like a neverending fight against artblock, and at this point, i start wondering if it's not really artblock, but instead it's just the reality of art making)
It's not so much that it becomes easy. It's more that you'll find new things about it that are hard.
Art will never become effortless because you will start finding new challenges to wrangle with, but the act of wrangling them is a good part of the fun. Finding new visual effects you struggle to capture or comprehend the shape of, let alone put down on paper. You might start off struggling to render shadows on a figure, and then as you progress you start wondering how to do shadows of foliage, or caustics of light projected through water, or how glowing eyes would cast shadows on a face, etc. New complexities reveal themselves as old struggles are mastered.
If you're struggling with something that feels like artblock, the problem might not be in your hands, but in your eyes. What to draw is at least as much of a challenge as how to draw it. If you notice your eyes snagging on small details or vistas and you catch yourself trying to work out how to capture that effect, that's your artist eyes at work, and the better you get, the weirder your artist eyes will make you.
There's an exercise my mom recommends that she got from her old teacher: three life drawings a day. Of anything - a chair, a glass of water, a tree, someone's dog, your own hand. I think this is less about honing your techniques and more about honing your eyes, training them to snag on everyday things and observe their complexities, the nuances, the way they really look, not just the way you think of them looking.
When you're a kid and you're drawing your first landscape, it's probably a house and a tree under a yellow sun in a blue sky. The tree looks like a lollipop, the house looks like a box with a hat, the sun is an egg yolk surrounded by lines, the sky is the bluest crayon you have. Maybe it has fluffy clouds in it if you were thinking ahead, cuz it's hard to draw white crayon or pencil over already blue drawings. This hypothetical drawing is a pure manifestation of art without artist's eyes; it is made entirely of what you understand things to look like, not how you see them. No real tree looks like a green lollipop. The sun is a blazing white ball that shades half of the dome of the sky in painfully bright white, and the sky is only blue in the loosest sense - even without clouds or sunsets confusing things, the sky will always fade to a lighter shade closer to the horizon. It is never uniform blue. Clouds usually look like shredded cottonballs around the edges, not fluffy rounded boubas.
This awareness extends to more complicated things. We know glass is clear. When we draw something made of glass, how can we capture that clarity? Do we just draw the outline, maybe some token specular highlights to show that it's catching the light? Or do we render the way it bends and distorts the image passing through it? We know gold is yellow and shiny; do we draw it as a yellow sparkly thing, or do we capture how it reflects the space around it? We know that water is blue and reflective. Do we draw it like we would draw a shiny blue car? Do we render a glass of water like a blue raspberry icee?
Actively perceiving the world as it is takes work and practice, but it's a vital component in all art - even completely fantastical art that is not at all drawn from life references. Skin has a particular luminosity to it, subcutaneous scattering of light that is inobvious if you just know that Skin Looks Like A Color. Even if you're painting a goblin or a mermaid or a centaur, capturing how the light hits their skin can make the difference between them looking like an action figure and looking like a living thing. If you're painting a landscape that isn't earth, it helps to have observed what earth's clouds and atmosphere really look like, how they catch and scatter the light. You have to know the rules in order to break the rules.
I can honestly say it never gets easy, but it does become a lot of fun, and if you're currently struggling to find the fun of it, it will get better the more you hone your eyes.
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mariasont · 10 months ago
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Parent-Teacher Conference - A.H
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a/n: inspired by the show the nanny! major lover of mr sheffield and fran fine
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
summary: you are not happy with jack's teacher flirting with your boss
warnings: hotch staring at your ass!, jealous reader, flirty reader, would prob def get a complaint against her in the real world, but alas!
wc: 0.8k
I'm terribly sorry, but my cat died before I got here.
I actually was in a car wreck on the way. I know I look fine, but it was super traumatic.
Mr. Hotchner you look so good today! Me? Late! Never.
These were the series of apologies and excuses that you were rehearsing in your mind as you navigated your way through the school hallway. In your defense, your tardiness to the parent-teacher conference wasn't without reason. Jack's newfound rebellious phase had him ruining your pantyhose with deliberate runs. He found it hilarious. You found it anything but.
You mentally prepared for that all-too-familiar, intimidating glare from Mr. Hotchner, the kind that could make you feel like you were plummeting from a cliff. Not only were you running late, but you also anticipated a less-than-glowing report from Ms. Thompson about Jack's recent antics. And in the back of your mind, a nagging voice whispered that Mr. Hotchner would somehow find a way to blame you.
"Oh, Aaron, you're something else!" 
You stopped dead in your tracks, gaze locked on the scene unfolding before you. Ms. Thompson's voice took on a higher pitch, full of animation, her elbows subtly drawing her tits together, leaning into Mr. Hotchner's space with an ease that bordered on disrespectful. At least in your eyes.
Aaron? The casual use of Mr. Hotchner's first name sent your mood from sour to downright acrid. You strode into the classroom, inching your skirt higher and affixing a practiced, beaming smile to your face. It was all charm and no sincerity.
"So sorry I was late," you began, allowing a gentle sway in your step as you glided into the room, your heels clicking a measured tempo against the linoleum floor. You mustered all your willpower to not shoot daggers at the blonde headed teacher. "I didn't miss anything did I?"
As you stepped into view, both Ms. Thompson and Mr. Hotchner turned their eyes to you. Ms. Thompson's showed a flicker of surprise, while Mr. Hotchner's were like slits, scrutinizing. But even his discipline gaze dipped, albeit briefly, to the curve where your skirt ended. 
"Oh, I... I didn't realize you were married, Mr. Hotchner," she mumbled, her hands fumbling gracelessly with the papers on the desk, her lips pinched in a straight line.
You could nearly hear the thoughts churning in Mr. Hotchner's head as his lips parted to correct her. Hastily, you cut in, "An innocent mistake, I'm sure."
He raised an eyebrow, a wordless question hanging in the air. Ignoring it, you flashed a saccharine smile and took the seat by his side, linking your arm with his. His muscles tensed, a reaction that almost coaxed a giggle from you.
It was all too easy to get a rise out of him.
"My wife, the epitome of timeliness,"Mr. Hotchner states dryly, his grip of your arm tightening just a tad more than called for. 
To your astonishment, the remainder of the conference proceeded seamlessly from that point on. Ms. Thompson restrained herself, both in wardrobe and word, and unexpectedly showered Jack with praise.
Exiting the classroom alongside Mr. Hotchner, you noticed he paused just long enough to ensure Ms. Thompson was out of ear shot. That's when you felt the squeeze of his hand on your side, coming to rest on the curve of your lower back, the pressure didn't move even as you found yourselves alone in the hallway--and you were far from objecting.
"Really?"
Your shoulders rose and fell in a pretense of innocence, well aware that his perceptive eyes weren't fooled. You tilted into his shoulder, doing a mental victory dance when he made no move to distance himself.
"What?" you asked, clutching your purse tighter against your side as you paced forward. "I was just helping you out. She looked like she was about to jump your bones at any second."
Mr. Hotchner's face was unamused, per usual. "Your generosity knows no bounds."
"Right?" You were aware of his sarcasm, but that didn't deter you. Your shoulders bumped together as you made it to the exit. "Consider yourself lucky."
An eye roll was his immediate response, but you could almost sense the smile he was staunchly holding back. He would never admit it.
"Yes, how could I ever manage without you?"
He paused to open the door for you, following behind as you stepped outside. You squinted against the sun's harsh kiss before giving him a teasing wink over your shoulder. He looked really good in the sunlight. He could use more of it.
"You wouldn't."
You caught his eyes lingering not on your face, but lower--fixated on your skirt, more specifically your ass. You raised your brows in question. 
"I think you sat in something."
You let out a startled gasp, hands flying to the material of your skirt. It was your favorite. "What? Where?"
His hands found their way to your waist, gently pivoting you for a better view, while your eyes settled on the stretch of road before you. "Oh, nope, my mistake. Looking good."
Your laughter spilled out uncontrollably, realizing just what he was doing. Cheeky man. And completely out of character, but you liked it. "Mr. Hotchner!"
 "I take my role as husband very seriously."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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angelicyoongie · 7 months ago
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The Ivory Fang (I)
— pairing: mermaid taehyung x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: (soft?) yandere, mention of illness (not the reader) — summary: You have run out of options when it comes to treating your mother's illness. When a mysterious man offers you a solution that might save her, you decide that nothing is too strange if it means it'll lead to a cure – not even finding and striking a deal with a mermaid.
Part 01 - 02
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"My apologies, miss, but there's nothing I can do to aid your mother. Her malady is too severe."
The healer gives you a sympathetic look before he closes his door, the bell hanging above it chiming into the quiet night. You let out a shaky exhale, staring at the door that just sealed your mother's fate.
You have exhausted every possible option of looking for a cure, pleaded with every healer you've come across to please just try, but none have been willing. They always take one look at your mother, pale and gaunt in her bed, practically rotting away as she lays there, before they scurry away, refusing to treat her.
They may see a lost cause, a patient too sick to be cured, but you just see your mother – the woman who raised you by herself and taught you that even if all else fails, she would always be there to catch you.
The gold coins in your satchel clink together as you pull yourself away from the healer's door, your steps heavy as you begin the walk back to your house.
"What a fool," You grit, kicking at a stone in front of you, "If you had any common sense you should at least pretend like you had a cure and bled me dry."
Your throat bobs as you glance up at the night sky. The stars twinkle on without a worry, indifferent that their biggest admirer hasn't laid her eyes on them in months. You never quite saw the beauty in them like your mother did – like she still does – but they are practical for lighting your way home. It's the least they can do, as the tearful wishes you've bestowed upon their fallen brothers and sisters have all gone unheard since your mother fell ill.
It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that you still have no idea what caused it. One day your mother was fine and the next she was unable to get out of bed, falling in and out of consciousness. It's been months of you doing everything you can to help her, but nothing has even given her a moment of respite from the illness that's ravaging her body. You're truly at your wit's end.
You press your hands to your eyes as they begin to blur, willing them not to fall. On the off chance that your mother is lucid when you return, you don't want to cause her the worry of seeing your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, rubbing at your eyelids until the urge to cry subsides.
As you let your hands fall away, you find yourself squinting as you re-open your eyes, hazy lights filling your vision. Your steps slow as you draw near the source, a lit-up storefront beckoning you in with its warm, flickering lights.
"This isn't.." You look over your shoulder, seeing the faint outline of the healer's door further up the road. You walk along this path every day and yet, you have never seen this store before. You can't quite seem to recall what used to be there but you know it wasn't this.
Trepidation slowly sinks in as you keep walking forward, intent to let your feet carry you past the shop without a backward glance. Even so, a moment of morbid curiosity makes you pause, your eyes drinking in the soft glow of the seemingly floating lights in the window. Turning your head this way and that, you can't see the string holding them up, the thread much too thin to be visible in such low light. The windows are covered with rich fabrics, not allowing you to look inside past the heavy drapes. Your initial thought about this being a magician's shop falls short as you notice the etching into the glass, the lettering spelling out 'The Healing Shoppe'.
The name gives you a foolish burst of hope, your body already halfway up the stairs before you remember just how odd this whole thing is. A mysterious shop has appeared out of thin air and you're going to trust it just like that? Every rational part of your brain is urging you to leave, to forget that you ever laid eyes on this shop. But.. You can't simply ignore it on the odd chance that something inside might help your mother.
Taking a deep breath, you cross the last steps and find yourself in front of the door. As you press down on the handle, it gives away with a soft rattle. The sound is peculiar, certainly like no bell you've ever heard before; but with no visual clues of what it might be, you find that you can't quite place it. You take a hesitant step into the shop, the dimly lit space in front of you more like a hallway than a proper room. The walls are empty aside from a few lit candles, only a heavy drape obscuring what you assume to be a doorway further down the corridor.
"Hello?" You call out.
You pause, straining your ears for a reply, but nothing comes. Just as you're about to leave, worried that someone simply forgot to close up their shop, you hear a heavy thud from behind the curtain.
There's no noise aside from the impact, no immediate call for help, but there's still a possibility that someone may be hurt. Perhaps they fainted or are too weak to call out to you. You decide then that you're just going to take a look behind the drape, just to make sure everything is alright so that you can leave in good conscience.
You walk past the flickering candlelight, stomach swirling with unease as you reach out for the curtain. The material is soft in your hand, threads of shimmering silver woven so delicately into it that you can't even feel it as you run your thumb across it. The fabric is heavy as you finally push it aside, your eyes widening in surprise as you take in what it was hiding.
The room you step into is filled to the brim with shelves and cabinets, all of them displaying a different collection of oddities. There's dried flowers and herbs hanging from the ceiling, the many bunches of lavender spreading a calming scent throughout the space. There's a round table placed in the middle of the room, two chairs pushed up against it. The tablecloth is made out of the same material as the drape and your fingers are already itching to touch it again.
Glancing around, you find that the shelf next to you is stacked to the brim with gemstones of every cut and color imaginable, their polished surface reflecting the sparkling jars from across the room. If your mother was here, she would insist that they were filled with stardust, the shimmering substance so bright it's nearly imitating the night sky you looked up at just moments before.
You walk slowly around the room, captivated by all of the different items you find. A shudder runs through you as you pause near a display filled with skulls, some of the shapes so outlandish you wonder if the owner has somehow mended different species together just for show.
As you finally make a full circle back to the doorway you stepped through, you realize that there's nothing in this room that should have made the thud you heard earlier. There's no one here and nothing even seems slightly out of place.
Stumped, you lean forward on the table, running your fingers over the soft texture of the cloth as you give the room another look. Is there a door you missed somewhere? Perhaps you were too captivated by the content to really pay attention to the room.
"And who might you be?"
You spin around, heart in your throat, from the sudden deep voice speaking up behind you. 
You stumble over an apology as you take in the cloaked figure in front of you, their face obscured by the big hood pulled over their head. The uneasy feeling in your stomach returns tenfold as you realize you're trapped between the table and this mysterious person, their broad frame blocking the only way in and out of the room.
"I–" You're saved from your poor explanation as the figure pulls their hood off, revealing the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. His light brown hair is tousled and wavy like he just came from a swim in the ocean, his skin sun-kissed as if he's spent his days laying by the shore. You find yourself unable to form words as you take in his chiseled jaw and almond-shaped eyes, the colour such a striking light blue, they almost appear white.
It's a little unsettling how piercing his gaze is, almost as if he's looking right into you rather than at you. Just as your eyes flicker to the curtain behind him, an excuse forming in your head for a swift exit, the man says, "What brings you to my shop?"
Flashes of your mother's gaunt face appear before your eyes, the sound of her breathing becoming heavier and heavier echoing in your ears. Even if you feel uneasy in this man's presence, you can't let this chance slip to your fingers. You owe your mother that much.
"I noticed the sign out front, that you have a healing shop? My mother.." You take a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "My mother is very ill. No doctor or healer is willing to help her, they say her sickness is too severe. You.. You're my last hope."
"Hmm, I see," The man nods. He gestures to one of the chairs, "Please have a seat and explain your troubles. I need all the details you can give regarding your mother's malady."
You quickly slip into the nearest chair, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. This is the first person who has ever bothered to ask, who actually seems to care. You watch the man as he rounds the table, his gait awkward and staggered as he walks with difficulty to his chair. The way he moves is nothing like you've seen before. It's certainly no ordinary limp, you've never seen anyone walk so .. unnaturally before.
The man catches your eye as he lowers himself to his seat.
"I know my condition is quite unsightly, please excuse me. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I have had to train my legs to bear my weight. It has left me feeling like a fish out of water."
He flashes you a crooked smile, the amused twinkle in his eye alerting you of a joke you don't quite understand. You wonder if his condition is similar to your old neighbor's. The man had a painful sickness in his legs and spent most of his time in a wheeled chair, but he could walk on them if it was necessary. Though the few times you did see him walk, it still looked, well, human.
"Oh no, that's alright," You wave your hands, embarrassed that your staring might have made him feel self-conscious.
Desperate to turn the conversation away from the man's illness, you begin recounting everything you can remember about your mother's sickness. You tell him about how it began so suddenly, the severity of it and how no one else is willing to aid her, all noting her as a lost cause.
"Most curious," The man hums. 
He leans back in his seat, his piercing gaze moving slowly across your face, scrutinizing it. He mutters something under his breath, too low for you to hear, before he raises his voice and says, "While I may not know what your mother's sickness is, I do know that there is only one thing that can cure her. A mermaid's magic."
"Pardon me?" You stare incredulously at the man. "Did you just say mermaid? As in the creatures from folktales?"
"I do know it sounds outlandish, or perhaps you'd find insane to be a more fitting word, but it's your last chance at curing your mother. Have you not exhausted all man-made options?"
You slump in your seat, biting down on your lip as you mull his words over. You have indeed done all you could to save your mother and to no avail. While it does sound absolutely mad to go searching for a mythological creature to aid her, perhaps crazy is just what you need. You're not sure just how much you trust this strange man but for all you know, he could be speaking the truth. He certainly looks like he believes in it himself.
"Where.. Where would I find one?"
The man tuts. "That's not the question you should be asking, guppy. A mermaid requires a sacrifice of equal value to what you are asking of them. What are you willing to give to receive their help?"
"Anything," You reply, "The cost doesn't matter. I'd give up anything to save my mother."
The man grins, his smile a little sharper than before, as he pulls out a weathered map from his cloak. He traces the route you need to take, crossing over the vast ocean to reach a cluster of islands on the other side.
"Finally, you will need to take a boat from Pearl Bay to this island right here. Once you locate the mermaid, you have to offer him this," The man places a tooth on the table, the whites of it glistening under the candlelight.
You hesitantly reach across the table to pick it up, the size and weight of it much more substantial than you were expecting. You find that the tooth is much more like a fang, one end pointed and sharp. It's nothing like you've seen before.
"What animal does this belong to?" You ask, tracing what looks like a red vein embedded in the side of it.
You look up as you're only met with silence, the man's heavy gaze transfixed on your hand and the fang held in your palm. He only seems to remember his surroundings as you lower it to your lap, removing it from his sight.
The man clears his throat as he pulls the hood back over his head. Ignoring your question, he nudges the map closer to you on the table, "I have given you everything you need. It is up to you to decide whether your mother lives – or dies. Good luck."
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Your mind is made up a few days later when your mother starts coughing up blood. You doubt she has more than a few weeks left to live at the rate her sickness is eating her up, so you'll have to act right away if you want to save her. You still have your doubt about the journey, about the creature you're supposed to find, but the risk is worth it if the alternative is being left to always wonder if it could have cured her. You know you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if the mysterious man was correct and you didn't do anything about it.
"I'll find a cure, I promise," You give your mother a gentle kiss on her forehead. The lines on her hollowed face are scrunched with pain, her every breath a mere wheeze as her chest struggles to rise and fall. 
You meet the saddened eyes of your neighbor as you press a few gold coins into her hand, whispering a few words of gratitude for her care while you're away. The journey shouldn't take more than ten nights to complete but you have paid her far more than that, just on the off chance that the weather delays your return. With your goodbyes said, you heft your rucksack onto your shoulder as you slip out of the cottage and set course for the port.
The sun has barely risen as you locate the ship that will take you south, the wooden dock filled with travelers and crew all headed in different directions. You're surprised to find that the ship is quite large, the deck just as bustling as the dock below. With all of the boxes and barrels being loaded up, you figure it's likely a cargo ship, moving wares and supplies out to the islands. While the journey is bound to be loud and quite cramped, you think the noise might actually do you some good. You hadn't realized just how much of your own energy had been sapped alongside your mother's, how much you missed the sound of laughter and life being lived around you. You'll be stuck on this ship until it reaches Pearl Bay, unable to do much other than sleep and converse with the people around you, so perhaps this will be a much needed break – a chance for you to wind down until you reach shore. Gods know you'll need it, especially since you're supposed to hunt down a fabled creature once your feet hit solid ground.  
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You fight to open your eyes as the sound of the howling winds outside sweep through the room, your stomach turning at the thought of having to move to see what caused it. The trap door slams shut before you muster up the courage to turn over, the sounds once again dampened by the heavy wood.
"Ay girlie, who made you this angry?!" A crewman huffs as he stumbles down the stairs to the lower deck, bracing his hands on the walls for support.
You bite your teeth together as another thunderous wave crashes against the side of the ship. The next round of nausea washes over you as the ship rocks back and forth, the wood groaning as it tries to steady itself. It's been three days of hellish waters, the storm breaking out as soon as the ship hit the open sea. You've spent most of it confined to your cot, barely being able to keep any water or food down before another rough wave causes your stomach to empty.
The lower deck is filled with pained moans and whimpers, the majority of the passengers fairing just as poorly as you. It feels like you're stuck in a loop of absolute misery with the heavy rain that pours down on the deck above and the angry sea that threatens to pull the ship under at any moment.
You let out a slow breath through your nose, trying to think about anything else but the bile slowly rising up your throat. So much for that relaxation. Desperate for some respite from your turning stomach, you close your eyes and turn your focus onto the indistinct chatter happening on the other side of the room. The low, murmuring voices prove to be enough of a distraction that you soon find your consciousness slipping, a welcome darkness taking over you as the storm continues to rage outside.
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The next time you wake up, the ship is quiet and still, like the previous days were nothing more than a fever dream. It takes you longer than you'd like to make your way up on deck, your legs trembling and weak after barely any substance over the past three days. The fresh air and warm sunlight feels heavenly on your skin as you stumble past the other travelers sprawled out on the deck, a few of them still moaning about the ship moving too much, despite its now still glide on the quiet water. The ship's railing seems like a good spot to rest, the sturdy wood providing a nice support to lean against as you survey the sea around you. The water is crystal blue, glittering under the bright sun. You've never seen anything quite like it. You let out a gasp as a school of fish pass by the ship, their gray hue reflecting the light so beautifully it looks like molten silver dancing around under the water's surface.
You stand by the ship's edge for a while, long enough for the other passengers to begin retreating back to their cots. Just as you're about to do the same, you see what looks like a white, large fin hitting the surface of the sea, the creature below too obscured by the distance from the ship to really make out. Even so, you can tell it's no regular fish. The small waves caused by the impact must surely mean that it's a strong animal.
"Did you see that?" You turn to the man resting next to you, hoping he might have an explanation of what you just saw.
The man startles as you address him, clearly on the brink of falling asleep where he stands. He blinks, rubbing his eyes as he turns his attention to the spot you're pointing to.
"There's nothing there, miss," He grumbles, openly annoyed that you woke him up.
"What? But–" As you turn back to look at the sea, you realize he's right. The creature you saw is no longer there.
"Was likely just a dolphin, miss. There's lots of them in these waters."
"I suppose so," You concede. Having never seen one in real life, only on paper, you have no clue how large they're supposed to be. Yet, something in your gut tells you that this was no dolphin – this was something entirely different.
You're not left to ponder the creature for long, not when you're alerted that Pearl Bay has been spotted in the distance. Your final night at the ship passes by in the blink of an eye, time seemingly fueled by your nerves as you suddenly find yourself stepping onto solid ground once again. With a decent night's rest behind you and a warm meal in your stomach, you set course for the next point on your map.
Following the mysterious man's instructions, you find the path going along the outskirts of the bay, walking until you stumble upon the described hut nestled close to the water's edge. The woman inside seems eager to rent you a rowboat, citing that she doesn't get much business on the far side of the island. 
It isn't until she asks you where you're going that her demeanor changes, her expression turning haunted as she glances in the direction of your destination, just barely visible where the sky meets the sea.
"There is something wicked in those waters," The woman shudders, her hands shaking as she accepts a gold coin for payment, "You'd better stay away if you value your life, miss."
Your stubbornness won't allow you to turn back now, not when you've already come so far, but that doesn't mean you're not affected by her warning. Her spooked expression lingers in the back of your mind as you push the boat out to sea, your own hands trembling with uncertainty as you grab the oars and begin to row.
Perhaps you are truly foolish to ignore all of the warning signs you have been presented with, but what is a little danger if it means it can heal your mother? You'll just have to stay vigilant, making sure not to take any risks and be alert to your surroundings.
With your rucksack tucked between your legs, you hum a gentle tune, trying to calm the anxiety building with every stroke forward.
The eerie feeling grows heavier the more distance you put between yourself and Pearl Bay, the island in the distance seemingly never drawing closer no matter how long and how hard you row. You set out before the sun had reached its highest point and now its rays are almost touching the sea, the sky a pure orange. Truly, it feels like you have just been paddling in place this whole time, not moving an inch despite the bay becoming fainter and fainter behind you.
Your arms are burning from the hours of exercise, your breath labored and heavy with exhaustion. You were hoping to make it to shore before nightfall –  the map did not indicate that the journey would be this long – but you fear your body might shut down if you try to push it for much longer.
You pull the oars into the boat, intending to just take a short break and rest your eyes before your final stretch of the evening. 
You swear you haven't dozed off for more than a quarter of an hour, the sunset still vivid and bright, but as you reopen your eyes, you're shocked to find the island close, its proximity now near enough that you can make out the palm trees on the shore and faint details of the wild mountain imposing behind them.
"How?" You breathe.
As you shift on the bench, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you notice that your feet feel much colder than before your nap. Wet.
Glancing down, you find the bottom of the boat filled with water, the amount already well above your ankles. You fumble for the oars, cursing as you begin to row with all of your might. You can't tell where the leak is coming from and scooping the water out with your hands won't get you anywhere. Your best bet is just to get the boat as close to land as possible and then swim the rest of the way.
You resolutely do not think about what may be lurking in the water as you finally abandon the sinking boat, your rucksack balanced precariously on your head as you lower yourself into the cold water. You wonder for a split second if it's better to leave it but the extra portions of food you brought with you will surely come in handy now that your way of returning to Pearl Bay is at the bottom of the ocean.
Biting your teeth together, you begin to swim, your gaze locked onto the beach. Time feels endlessly long as you push yourself forward, the minutes ticking by so slowly they might as well have been hours.
You let out a sob of relief as your feet finally touch solid ground, every limb shaking with exhaustion as you waddle the rest of the way up to dry land. You collapse the moment you hear sand crunching under your soaked boots, panting, as your vision swirls from fatigue. 
You lie there until the chill begins to set in, your dripping clothes sticking to your skin like an icy embrace. Groaning, you push yourself up on your feet, knowing you'll have to attempt to create a fire if you want any warmth to return to your body.
The sky is beginning to grow dark, its orange hues replaced by deep purple and blue. It's only now that you realize just how unnaturally quiet the island is, with no noise to be heard aside from the water lapping at the shore and a gentle breeze flowing through the palm trees. Even if you hadn't been this exhausted and cold, you would never dare to venture further into the thick vegetation in the dark. You don't trust the island to not lead you astray.
"Suppose I'll stay here for the night," You murmur. 
You rummage through your rucksack, pulling out the change of clothes you had brought with you just in case. You're ever thankful for your own foresight as you strip out of your soaked garments, goosebumps racing down your skin as you hurry to pull on a dry blouse and trousers. It isn't just the cold that's making your skin crawl – you can't help feeling like somewhere in the darkness of the deep ocean, or in the shadows in the midst of the trees, someone is watching you.
You glance around as you do your blouse up, finding absolutely nothing staring back at you.
Yet, the feeling lingers.
It takes you longer than you'd like to admit getting a fire started, the branches you find a little too damp to really catch a spark. Still, some deity seems to take pity on you and allows one of your attempts to succeed, the branch igniting and spreading the flames to the rest of your small bonfire. You scarf down half of the food and water you brought with you as you soak up the warmth, deciding that despite your still vocal stomach, it's better to save the rest for tomorrow. You have no idea how large this island actually is, so there's no question that you'll have to keep your energy up.
With your stomach slightly sated and your shivering down to a minimum, you curl up on the beach, as close to the open flames as you dare. You use your rucksack as a makeshift pillow, piling up the rest of your supplies close by. Despite the unnerving, oppressive air that hangs over the island, you succumb to sleep quickly, your exhaustion too great to fight.
Your dreams are restless, haunted by sharp teeth and whispers, a deep baritone voice urging you to come find him. You wake with a start, alarmed that the puff of air you sensed across your ear in your nightmare felt a little too real.
Heart racing in your chest, you quickly survey the beach, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Your bonfire has long since extinguished itself, its ashes intertwined with the sand below.
Reaching out behind you, you frown as you don't feel the pouch of water you know you left there the night before.
Turning around, you're met with absolutely nothing. Your food and water are gone, and the clothes you left out to dry are nowhere to be seen.
You would suspect an animal to be behind it but you really don't think there's any here. It's too quiet. Not even an insect has passed you by since you stepped foot on this island. 
Perhaps the sensation you felt wasn't just a dream, maybe there's someone – something – here.
"You're fine, you're fine," You whisper, digging your hands into the sand to ground yourself. You don't have time to panic. If all of your supplies are gone, it just means you have even less time to locate the creature you came here for. You have to move. Now.
You push yourself up to your feet, dusting sand off your clothes. Your boots are long gone too but you doubt they would have been of much use anyway with the way they were gurgling the night before.
Taking a deep breath, you begin walking towards the thick vegetation a little further up the beach, where the sand meets lush, long grass. The jungle you step into is so dense that the sunlight barely manages to peek through the trees, only small dapples of sunlight flickering across the ground as the leaves move with the wind. The map provided to you didn't show where you would find the mermaid once you reached the island, so you're left to wander aimlessly, pushing aside shrubs and climbing over fallen trees.
Even if you have no idea which way you should be headed, it's almost as if your body knows, your feet carrying you in what you can only hope is the right direction. Your path becomes clear as you break through the trees and find yourself at the edge of the mountain, near the shore. Your journey must have led you to the other side of the island, and the massive cave that's carved out of the mountain is too imposing to be anything but your destination. From the folktales you have heard, it seems like the perfect place to find a mermaid.
The cave mouth is facing out into the ocean, its size big enough to fit a ship through it. You say a small prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen as you square your shoulders and walk in, your barren footsteps echoing into the quiet mountain. You keep close to the wall as you follow the rocky ledge that trails along it, mindful of the stream that runs parallel to your path. The water here is darker, not as willing to divulge what may be lurking beneath its surface. It seems this cave has a paved a road for those with feet and fins.
You follow the ledge as it veers to to left and it soon becomes apparent to you that you have stepped into a tunnel, something much smaller and damper compared to the cave entrance. You can almost graze your fingertips against the mountain above you now.
It doesn't take long before the tunnel opens up before you, showing you sunlight streaming in through holes in the mountain. This cavern is large and wide, showing off a pool of water in the middle of it. You freeze near the edge of the tunnel, still shrouded in its shadows, as you finally lay eyes on the creature you have been searching for – the mermaid.
It's lounging in the water, its back turned towards you as it uses its arms to rest on the pool's edge. You find yourself mesmerized by its tail, the massive thing almost as long as a full-grown adult. It's white in colour but the scales appear to have a pearlescent luster to them, shimmers of pink and green reflecting in the water.
The mermaid's body resembles a man, showing off a chiseled back and strong muscles as he moves his arms. The mermaid's tousled, light brown hair looks oddly familiar from the back, but you know no men who sport that kind of style. There's no place for vanity in your town.
"Hello?" You call out as you step into the cavern.
You hold your breath as the mermaid flips its body around at the sound of your voice, its strong tail splashing in the water. Dumbfounded, you watch as the mermaid pushes his hair back, revealing a face you already know.
It's the mysterious man from the healing shoppe, the same one that told you to come find the mermaid – to come find him.
The man grins as he drinks in your shock, his teeth much sharper than you remember them. 
"Ah, pretty human, it seems that you decided to save your mother's life after all."
"You.." You struggle to make sense of what you're seeing, none of it adding up. "Who are you?"
"Me? Oh, pardon my manners. You may call me Taehyung, human. I believe you have a request for me?"
A sudden gust of wind comes through the cave as the mermaid utters his name, a loud rattling echoing between the walls of the cavern. You remember hearing that same sound before, the night you stepped into his shop. The moment you glance up to find the source, you find yourself immediately regretting it.
The darkest spots of the cave's ceiling are filled with clumps of hanging bones, all made up of various animals. They rattle as the wind makes them sway, causing them to knock into each other over and over. You swallow thickly as you spot a skull that is very distinctly human, its warning not lost on you.
You scramble a step back as you look back to the water and find Taehyung much closer than before. He's resting casually on the pool's edge, his chin in his hand as he observes you from only a few feet away. His icy gaze is locked on to you and there's a glint in his eye that makes you all too aware that you have nowhere to run. Even if you make it out of the cave, you will still be trapped on the island. The water is Taehyung's domain and you're surrounded by it.
Foolishly naive and desperate as you are, you have let a predator lead you right into his grasp.
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a/n: want to read chapter two right away? you can! just click here and it'll bring you straight to early access 💖
welcome to the third installment in the crimson shell universe (all of the stories are stand alones though, so you'll be fine even if you haven't read the others)!! i know we didn't see too much of tae in this chapter but i can promise you he'll make plenty of apperances in the next one 👀 this is a yandere mermaid story, but this fic will be... softer (?) in comparison to the others! i'd love to know what you think so far!! 💖
the next(/final) chapter will be posted in three weeks time! if you don't want to wait and would like to support me, you can read it now through early access on my kofi! the link is above. thank you!! 💖
887 notes · View notes
enwoso · 3 months ago
Note
heyyyy i absolutely love the grumpy universe and i was wondering if your comfortable with writing it, could we get a fic of lovie meeting her dad or him reaching out to alessia to meet her?
A BRIDGE TO CROSS | alessia russo x child!reader
wow this is a long one, so i hope when reading this your comfy! i did decide to put the flashback in here and if any other questions arise from please ask away. also lovie’s not really in this one till later on, its more focused on alessia for once rather than lovie — but don’t worry she’s in it a little later on.
all that’s left from me is to say enjoy!
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grumpy masterlist
a late afternoon sun spilled through the windows of alessia's kitchen, painting the room in a soft glow. the hum of life surrounding her as she answered a few work emails she hadn't had a chance to reply to yet while nursing a cup of now warm coffee.
you, sat across the living room floor, in alessia's eyeline from the open plan area as you hummed off-key with crayons sprawled across the floor. the floor being a chaotic masterpiece of mismatched papers, open markers and alessia's worst enemy at the moment, glitter glue.
alessia had been trying to focus on the emails from her agency on upcoming media appearances and events but her gaze kept drifting to her phone which sat beside her coffee mug like a ticking time bomb.
the message had arrived out of nowhere, a text message from harrison reed, her ex boyfriend from college who also happened to be your biological father.
alessia didn't even have the slightest idea on how he could of managed to get her phone number, it being reserved for only those closest to her. it had been years since she'd even though about hearing from him and yet, there it was. five words long.
(maybe harrison) | ‘i want to meet her.’
the words sat heavy in her chest, replaying over and over in her mind. she'd read the message half a dozen times already, trying to decode its intent. trying to figure out if it was genuine or another empty promise she'd have to shield her daughter from.
across the room, you were a picture of joy. your own little personality as you chatted away to yourself. you were drawing again, as always, your tiny hands gripping a purple crayon.
alessia smiling to herself faintly as she watched you press on the paper a little too hard as your tongue stuck out in concentration.
"mummy, look!" you chirped up as you sat up onto your knees holding up your creation, a stick figure with wild hair standing beside a lopsided house. "it's you and me!"
alessia chuckled softly, setting her coffee down to admire the drawing, "it's beautiful lovie, your getting to be quite the artist!”
you beamed as your face lit up, "i'm going to draw esme next" you announced grabbing the elephant teddy with such enthusiasm.
alessia leaned back on the seat she was sat at, her heart tightening. you were everything to her. she'd fought so hard to you a life filled with love and to shield you from the shadows of the past.
and now, he wanted to come back. and alessia was sure if she could trust him, especially not after how he reacted when she told him.
five years ago.
alessia was sat on the edge of the bathtub in her cramped dorm bathroom, the stick trembling in her hand. she had re-read the result at least ten times. her chest tightening with every glance at the small plus sign.
pregnant.
pressing a hand to her mouth, willing herself not to cry. but her thoughts raced: she was nearly four thousand miles away from home, her scholarship, her dreams of playing professionally.
everything she had spent years working for felt like it was slipping through her fingers.
the sound of her phone buzzing on the counter was what jolted her out of her spiralling thoughts. it was him, harrison. staring a the screen as her stomach twisted in knots.
she hadn't even told him she'd been late this month. he didn't know she'd been panicking all week, buying test after test after practice and waiting for her dorm to be empty before she even dared to use it.
taking a deep breath, she pressed the green button, answering him. "hey less," harrison said his voice easy and light, "what's up?"
her throat felt dry, but she forced the words out, "can you come over? i need to talk to you"
"sure, is everything okay?"
"just..come over- please harrison"
alessia had met harrison through a party in her first year at the unc campus, he a bit like her had a athlete scholarship but his was for football not soccer.
the two had been off and on for a few months before they became official at the end of her freshman year.
the two were a good couple, harrison looked out for alessia and she thought she loved him but maybe that was just because he was her first love — he definitely wasn't the one for her.
when harrison showed up fifteen minutes later, his hoodie pulled up against the chilly evening air, a plastic bag no doubt filled with snacks he'd grabbed from the local store.
alessia sat in the edge of her bed, her hands wriggling nervously in her lap. harrison leaned against the doorframe, his expression puzzled by the shear look on his girlfriends face.
"alright, what's going on? you look like you've seen a ghost" his american accent cutting through the room like a knife. alessia looking up at him as she tried to think of the best way to say it.
biting her lip as her heart pounded in her chest. she didn't know how to start so she just held up the pregnancy test, her hands trembling.
harrison froze, his easy and chilled demeanour evaporating, "is that...?"
she nodded, "i'm pregnant" she said it barely coming out above a whisper.
he scoffed, as he stared at her his face totally unreadable. before he laughed a short, disbelieving sound. "your joking right, like this is one of those weird youtube pranks?" he asked spinning his head around to look around for a camera.
"it's not a joke harrison."
his expression immediately changed, "you can't be serious less, we're still in college. we aren't ready for this-"
"do you not think i don't already realise that!" she snapped, her voice breaking, "do you think i haven't thought about how this is going to change everything?"
harrison let out a loud sigh as he paced the small room, "so.. what are you going to do?" he asked as alessia glanced at him with a blank expression, "you're not actually planning on keeping it, are you?"
alessia's stomach churned at his words, "it's not 'it" harrison. it's a baby, our baby."
he stopped, his face paling, "less you've got a scholarship, you've got a great future ahead of you, you can't throw it away for this?"
her voice wavered, but she stood her ground. "i haven't decided yet, but if i keep the baby, it's not 'throwing my future away'"
harrison shook his head, his tone a lot colder now, "you're not thinking straight. just figure it out.. alright and let me know what you decide."
and without another beat or word, harrison left. leaving alessia alone in the suffocating silence.
it had been two weeks since alessia had found out she was pregnant and the decision of what to do had been weighing on her both mentally and physically.
she'd hardly slept, her thoughts consumer by the enormity of what was ahead. but after breaking silence with her family and them offering her their undying support.
with many sleepless nights on the phone to her mum, she knew what she wanted. for both her and her baby.
she was going to keep the baby.
the clarity didn't make facing harrison any easier. she had spent the morning rehearsing in her head what to say, trying to figure out what his reaction would be.
arriving at his dorm, it not being too far of a walk from hers. hesitantly she lifted her hand hovering over the door before finally knocking.
harrison answered quickly, his expression guarded, "hey, you alright?" he asked pulling the blonde into a side hug as he kissed the top of her head.
"can..we talk?" alessia asked, stepping to the side to sit on the couch before he could respond. not wanting to give herself the chance to back out.
he closed the door behind her, crossing his arms as he leant against the wall, he knew exactly what the conversation was about to be had. "so have you figured it out?"
alessia frowned at the casual tone in his voice as if this wasn't a serious conversation but she forced herself to stay calm knowing an argument right now would not be the best thing, "yeah i have. i'm keeping the baby."
harrison's eyes widened briefly clearly not the answer he was hoping or expecting as his brow furrowed deeper. "less, come on. think for a moment. your only twenty, we're still in college. your finally getting noticed by the senior teams, and football is going well for me. you can't seriously think this is a good idea-"
her jaw tightened, "it's my decision, harrison. i've thought about it and this is what i want. i'm keeping my baby"
he scoffed, running a hand through his hair, "are you hearing yourself right now. how are you supposed to raise a kid at your age, it's insane less"
"i'll figure it out" alessia snapped her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. "i have my family. i don't need you to like it, harrison. but i just need you to know this is happening"
he stared at her for a long moment, his expression hardening as he let out a loud sigh, "look i'm not ready for this" he said his voice cold and clipped. "i can't be a dad, less. not yet anyway"
alessia felt something in her chest pang, the hurt cutting a littler deeper than she expected. but beneath the pain a fierce determination began to take roots she straightened her back meeting his gaze head on.
"ok" she said shrugging, her voice steady, "if you don't want to be involved, you won't be. but know this, my baby deserves better than someone who walks away when things get hard."
harrison opened his mouth as if to argue, but alessia shook her head stopping him. not wanting her hear anything else from the boy.
"i don't want anything from you, harrison. not your money, not your time, nothing. from now we're done. me and my baby won't have anything to do with you."
her words hung in the air like a challenge and for a moment alessia thought he may change his mind, say something and protest her stern words.
but he didn't, he just sighed shoving his hands into his pockets, "if that's what you want"
alessia's heart ached at his indifference, the memories built flooding into her mind but she refused to let him see her cry. without another word she turned and walked out of his dorm door.
walking along the dimly lit door corridor, the cool air hitting her face as she let out a shaky breath. a wave of reality hitting her like a brick as tears pricked at her eyes but she quickly wiped them away angrily.
"i promise we'll be better without him" she whispered to herself, placing a protective hand over her stomach.
in that moment, alessia made a silent promise to herself and her unborn baby: she would give them a life filled with love and supports. they mightn't have their father to turn to but they would never feel unloved.
and alessia would make sure of it.
that evening, alessia was sat in the familiar comfort of her parents' living room. her hands curled around a mug of tea. the walls were adorned with family photos — memories of holidays, birthdays and days out which were always loud and full of love.
it had always been her safe haven, but tonight, it felt anything but safe.
you had spent the evening in the kitchen with your nonna, helping to make dinner which had been a favourite of yours. making faces on everyone's pizzas with the toppings.
you were now in dream land having difted to sleep in your mummy's arms as you watched the tv.
alessia's parents, mario and carol as well as her older brothers gathered around her each wearing a different expression after hearing the news of who was back.
mario sat forward in his chair, elbows on him knees as his brow furrowed in deep though. carol was perched on the couch beside alessia as she gave a comforting hand on her knee in quiet support.
while her brothers, giorgio and luca across the room sat side by side with their arms crossed and a protective energy glowing from them almost tangible.
alessia's dad broke the silence first, his voice steady but soft. "so to get it straight, after four years, harrison out the blue wants to meet tiny?"
alessia nodded, her hands tightening around her mug. "that's what he says, somehow he got my number and messaged me yesterday"
"but he hasn't been around at all" luca's voice was sharp cutting through the air like a blade, "so why are we even having this conversation. his actions speak louder than his words"
alessia hummed, she knew exactly what her brother was saying, heck she felt the same way. but for some reason the decision felt like such a difficult one.
her mum, carol sighed, giving alessia's hand a reassuring squeeze, "darling, i know this is complicated but.. maybe he's realised he made a mistake. people do change you know"
mario nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful, "exactly what your mum says, it sounds like he's trying to take responsibility. and as much as you maybe wish it wasn't true but harrison is her father and she deserves the chance to know that"
alessia bit her lip, torn between her parents clam logic and her brothers silent fury. she couldn't deny that part of her wanted to believe harrison had changed that he could finally be the father figure you deserved but despite her parents words, alessia knew harrison better than them.
and she didn't know if she was exactly ready to gamble with your heart.
"you really think he deserves a chance, dad?" alessia asked still hesitant.
mario nodded slowly, "i do, i'm not saying forgive him overnight but you could always meet with him, if he's in london and talk to him. see if he's serious. if he's willing to show up for her now — that has to count for something."
a loud scoff could be then heard from luca, his arms tightening across his chest. "count for what? a pat on the back for finally doing what he should've been doing for the past four years-"
carol gave her eldest son a sharp look, "luca. don't make this harder than it already is for your sister."
but luca was unmoved in his opinion, "but mum, he walked away when less needed him most! and now he thinks he can just waltz back in like nothings happened!"
gio, who had been quieter of the two brothers, decided to add his opinion. his voice firm, "and what happens if he decides it's too hard for him and disappears again? think about what that'll do to lovie. she's too young to understand why her dad didn't stick around the first time."
alessia's throat tightened, like she was going to either be sick or pass out or maybe both. she'd had the same thoughts running through her mind all day.
"boys" mario said sharply cutting through the clear tension which was building. his tone carrying the weight of authority. "this isn't about us, it's about what's best for y/n and if harrison is serious don't you think she deserves to know him?"
luca scoffed, "only if he's serious," luca snapped sharply, "and that's a big if."
carol turned back to alessia, her expression softer now, "what do you think darling? do you believe he's changed?"
alessia let out a shaky breath, setting her mug down on the coffee table careful not to wake you as you slept peacefully in her arms. "i don't know mum, part of me wants to give him the benefit of the doubt but i can't risk lovie getting hurt. she's happy and she doesn't even know what's she missing."
"which is exactly why you should be careful," gio firmly said, her voice protective not only of his sister but also of his niece. "she doesn't know him. if you let him in and he screws up — she's the one whose going to get hurt and confused, not him."
the room fell into a tense silence, alessia's parents and brothers were split down the middle — her dad and mum urging caution but also the fact everyone deserves a second chance while her brothers were both adamant that harrison definitely wasn't even worthy of considering the opportunity.
finally mario broke the stalemate, "less, we can sit here and go back and forth but at the end of the day it's your decision. tiny is your daughter and whatever you choose, we'll support you.
alessia nodded slowly, her eyes stinging with she'd tears. she appreciated their support but it didn't make the decision any easier.
glancing down at your sleeping figure in her arms as you clutched the side of her hoodie in your hands, soft breaths coming from your lips. her heart aching as she thought about your bright, innocent and trusting smile.
whatever she decided, it had to be for your sake.
it was a few days since she'd been at her parents, going over her options and she was still no further forward on what to do so as she sat lying on her bed it was late and the house was quiet, you tucking up peacefully in bed and the world was quiet, but alessia's mind was anything but.
so as she lay on facetime to someone she hoped would be able to give her an honest and brutal opinion and not sugar coat it.
"so after four years he's just reached out, that's mad less" ella's thick accent came through the speaker as her brows furrowed as she adjusted the angle of her phone
alessia sighed running a hand through her freshly washed hair, "tell me about it. it's like where has he suddenly gotten the change of heart come from. i don't know if i can trust him, el"
ella's face softened, her usual playful smirk replaced with genuine concern, she'd seen the fallout after what happened. the state the blonde had been in when she came home from the states six months pregnant.
she was the only one who really knew the whole story. whether that was from late night chats or drunken confessions after one too many on a team night out.
"i mean i don't blame you, after all you've brought her up on your own. you've played both parents and he's just been.. well not here"
"exactly," alessia said her voice tight, "and now he want to meet her" alessia huffed expressing the same concerns about letting harrison back into your life like she did with her parents.
ella shifted, propping herself up on her elbows, "it normal that your feeling worried, but.. what if he's serious this time? people can change less. don't you think tiny deserves the chance to know her dad, even if it's just to see for herself what he's like?"
alessia frowned leaning back against the headboard of her bed. "but that's the thing, she's doesn't even know he exists. she's happy el and i've worked so hard to keep my promise to her and give her a good life"
"i know you have less," ella said softly, "but.. what if one day after school she asks about him. what are you going to tell her? that you wouldn't give him the chance"
alessia groaned quietly, covering her face with her hands. part of her wishing he had never even sent the message and then she wouldn't be in such a split state of mind. "i don't know! that's why i'm calling you. i don't know what to do."
ella was quiet for a moment, her expression deep in thought. "look i get your scared, heck i don't know sometimes how you manage everything you do. but i also know how much you love that little girl. you always put her first and this is no different."
ella paused as alessia nodded, hearing her best friend loud and clear, "maybe the answer isn't about trusting him— it's about trusting yourself. you'll know if it's the right thing to do."
alessia let out a small laugh, as she looked at the camera, "you make it sound so simple"
ella laughed lightly, "it's not simple, far from it. it's messy as hell. but your so strong, less. you've handled everything else life thrown at you and you'll handle this too. just.. don't rush it. start small and let him prove himself."
alessia let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing a little, "you really think i should give him a chance?"
ella's eyes softened as she let out a sigh, "i think you should do what feels right for tiny. but yeah maybe, give him a shot. if he messes up you'll know and you'll handle it. your her mum and there's no better at protecting her than you"
for the first time in a couple days a small smile tugged at alessia's lips, "thanks el, i don't know what i'd do without you."
ella grinned, her usual cheeky grin as her playful energy returned, "you'd probably just sit overthinking everything. good thing i'm always here to knock some sense into you"
alessia laughed, shaking her head, "your an idiot"
"and yet you still love me for it!" ella winked before stifling a yawn. "right go and get some sleep. you've got enough in your plate without being a total zombie tomorrow."
"and less," ella paused grabbing the blondes attention as she shuffled around her bed, "i'm proud of you" ella smiled softly as the two shared an understanding nod, knowing exactly what the other was saying without having to say a word.
"goodnight, el" alessia smiled her voice softer
"night, less. you've got this! oh, and give my favourite little russo a kiss from her auntie ella, i miss her” ella added with a pout as a small giggled came from alessia as she nodded telling her best friend she would do just that.
as the screen went dark, alessia leaned back against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling as ella's words replayed in her mind. for the first time since harrison's message, she felt the faintest flicker of clarity.
the cafe was small and tucked into a quiet corner of london, the last thing alessia wanted was for this to be in every media outlet going. so she chose a discreet location somewhere she wouldn't usually go.
the bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside, clutching her coat tightly around her. her eyes scanning the room until she saw him: harrison reed.
sat at a table by the window, his hands wrapped around what looked to be some sort of health smoothie filled with all the healthy greens.
his hair a little shorter than she remembered, not the messy moon of curls it was back in college as well as the light subtle on his jaw. a black shirt covering him as his arms where on show a lot more tattoos coving his arms than the blonde could recall from back in college.
he looked nervous — his knee bouncing under the table, his fingers tapping against the plastic cup. when he saw her, he stood quickly unsure what to do or how to greet the blonde so he stuck his hands into his pockets.
"alessia" he said his voice tentative.
alessia just gave him a curt nod as she forced herself to take a steadying breath. she walked towards him, her heart pouring in her chest.
as she reached the table, sliding into the seat across from him without a word, her posture rigid and far from relaxed.
harrison sat down slowly, his movements careful as if he was afraid of scaring her off. for a moment neither of them spoke. alessia kept her arms crossed tightly, her gaze fixed on him like a shield.
"do you want a dri-" harrison began but was quickly shut off by the blonde shaking her head, "-no, i'm not staying long. i have to pick lovie up at three"
the blonde glanced down at the time on her phone, thirty minutes. that it all she had to do was listen to him for thirty minutes. she could do that.
harrison just nodded, "well thanks for uh, meeting me" harrison finally said, stuttering over his words.
alessia's lips pressed into a thin line. "you said it was important."
he nodded, his eyes flickering to the smoothie in front of him before returning to her. "it is. i've.. i've been thinking about this for a while. reaching out, i mean. i know it's been too long. way too long"
her jaw tightened, "four years harrison. you haven't said anything in four years. you didn't even say anything after i went out my way to send you a message the day she was born"
he flinched slightly at the sharpness in her tone, guilt washing over his face. "i-i know i didn't and i hate myself for it alessia. i wasn't ready back then. i was..scared, stupid and i thought walking away was the right thing to do because i didn't think i could handle it."
alessia let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "the right thing? you left me to do it all alone, i was terrified too but i didn't get the luxury of running away"
alessia paused for a moment her voice a little shaky as she took a deep breath, "i had to figure it out alone — for her"
harrison's face fell as his hands tightened around the plastic cup, "i've let you down, both of you. and i know i'll never be able to make up for that. but i've changed alessia. i'm not the same selfish idiot i was back then"
she arched an eyebrow, skepticism radiating from her as she let out a scoff, "and now you try think you can just walk into her life and everything will be sunshine and rainbows? do you even understand what you're asking?"
harrison hesitated as his gaze dropped to the table, alessia continuing voicing her frustration, "and what happens when you go back to america"
harrison's head picked back up as he shook it, "i- i live here now. i have for the past year and a bit... football didn't work out for me not like the.. the way it did for you. i erm work for marketing firm now, the hours are long but it works" he shrugged and alessia nodded talking in the new information.
it didn't change a lot but it definitely changed something. harrison wasn't going to go away after a few months, especially now, not since he lived here too. alessia couldn't just forget him like she did before when he lived across the world.
"and i can't sit here and pretend to understand what it's been like for you. but i know i want to try. i want to be there for y/n even if it's just a small part. she deserves to know her dad"
the mention of your name coming from his lips made alessia's heart ache. your bright smile flashing in her mind, your endless curiosity and infectious laughter.
"she doesn't even know you exist" alessia said quietly, her voice cracking slightly, you had never really asked but alessia knew with each month that passed it was only a matter of time till you did. "she's happy and i've worked so hard to give her a life full of love and stability. i won't let you ruin that.
harrison's eyes filled with remorse, "i’m not here to ruin anything. i just want a chance. if i could erase the past i would in a heartbeat. but i know i can show up now. so please alessia, let me try and prove myself to you."
she studied for a long moment, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. there was a desperation in his eye but also something else — determination maybe even hope.
"this isn't about you." she said finally, her voice steady. "this is about it her and if you're not serious, if you mess this up. i'll never forgive you.
harrison nodded quickly, his expression earnest. "i understand and i swear i'm serious. i'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."
alessia leaned back in her chair as her arms still crossed tightly. she wasn't ready to trust him, not yet, but she couldn't ignore the tiny voice in her head whispering 'what if he has changed?' 'what if this is his change to be the dad you deserve'
after a long pause, she sighed, "i need time to think about this and i'm not making any promises harrison."
"of course," he said quickly, a flash of shock going over his features at the blondes response, "take all the time you need, i'll wait."
she stood, reaching for her coat "this isn't just about meeting her. if i let you in, you have to stay. no backing out when things get hard. no disappearing acts and if you can't promise that then we might as well not even bother"
harrison rose to his feet, his posture uncertain but hopeful, "i promise alessia. i have a life here, i live here and have a steady job i promise i'm not going anywhere."
she didn't respond, simply pulling her coat tighter around herself as she nodded mumbling a quick "i'll be in touch" as she headed towards the door.
as she stepped outside and closer to her car in the cold air, she felt a swirl of emotions: anger, fear and deep down a faintest flicker of hope.
a few weeks had passed since alessia had met harrison in that cafe. after a few days of going back and forth with the idea and a few more conversations with her mum and ella.
she decided to give him the chance to know his daughter. giving harrison a call, him answering pretty much straight away his voice filled with hope as alessia asked when he would next be free along with another warning of the risk she was taking.
which lead to this warm sunday, and for once where alessia didn't have a match. the team having played on the friday night. as alessia and you walked through your local park which was only a short walk from your house.
the playground at the park was alive with laughter and the squeals of children running around in every direction.
alessia stopped for a moment as she leaned down to tie your shoelace again for you, standing back up as she gripped the straps of her bag tightly.
feeling her stomach churn as she glanced towards a bench in the distance, where harrison was sitting. his posture stiff as he sat with his hands clasped together.
beside her, you tugged at her hand excitedly. the eyes of your hair slightly curled bouncing up and down as you pointed towards the swings.
"mummy! can we go on the swings first?" you asked, your voice brimming with nothing but energy.
alessia forced a smile as she leant down to your level, "in a bit we can lovie, but first there's someone i would like you to meet"
your head tilted the side, curiosity filling your features as you wondered who it could be, "who?"
alessia swallowed hard, her throat dry, "he's... someone who would like to get to know you. his name is harrison"
before you could ask any more questions, alessia straightening up as her gaze met harrison's. he was already looking over, waving alessia over as she could sense his nervous energy practically radiating from him.
alessia taking your hand and starting to walk towards him, her heart pounding with every step.
as they approached, harrison offered a small and tentative smile. "hi y/n" he said softly, his voice careful and gentle not wanting to overwhelm you.
you looked at him, your big blue eyes wife with curiosity as you clutched your mummy's hand a little tighter. your usual boldness momentarily replaced with shyness. "hi," you said after a pause, you voice quiet and timid.
alessia crouched down before you, her hand staying tightly in yours, "lovie, this is harrison" she said her voice calm but steady. "and he's.. your dad"
your brow furrowed slightly, her head tilting as you processed your mummy's words, "my dad?" you repeated, your gaze flicking between your mummy and harrison.
"yes" alessia said softly, "he's been away for a little while, but he wants to get to know you"
harrison leaned forward, putting himself a little closer to you. he looked hesitant unsure if he should speak but when you didn't back away, he took a deep breath.
"it's nice to finally meet you, y/n." he said his voice warm and welcoming, "your mummy has told me so many wonderful things about you."
you stared at him for a moment, your little button nose scrunching up as you studied his face. finally you asked, "but why weren't you here before?"
the question hit like a punch to the gut and alessia felt her breath get caught in her throat as she looked at harrison waiting to see how he would respond.
harrison's face softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. "that's a good question" he said gently. "the truth is, i made a mistake. a pretty big one and i wasn't there when i should've been and i'm really really sorry for that"
you blinked, your expression still curious but no longer as guarded as you were, "so.. but your not going away now?"
harrison's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, "no kiddo, i’m not going anywhere. and if you'll let me i would really like to spend time with you and get to know you"
alessia felt her chest tighten at the raw emotion in his voice. she looked down at you whose gaze was fixed on harrison and after a long moment you nodded slowly.
"okay" you said simply.
harrison's face lighting up with relief, his smile genuine and warm, "okay" he echoed softly.
you turned back to look at your mummy, your usual energy returning. "can i show him the swings, mummy? i'm really good at swinging high!"
alessia hesitated for a moment, her protective instincts warring slightly with the tentative hope stirring in her chest. finally she nodded, "of course lovie. go on"
you grabbed harrison's hand without hesitation, pulling him towards the swings with the same confidence you had with everyone you trusted.
alessia watching as harrison followed you, his movements careful but not awkward. he listened to you chattering about your favourite colours and how you someday when you get older would like a puppy like your auntie beth and steph.
by the time you reached the swings, you had clearly decided that harrison was worth your attention. you climbed onto the swing and your legs were kicking in anticipation.
"push me! but not too high!" you instructed your voice filled with authority.
harrison chuckled, a sound alessia hadn't heard in years. it bringing back memories of the two of them when they were sit and laugh in their dorms about things that probably weren't even funny.
"you got it kiddo!"
as harrison gently pushed on the swing, your laughter filled the air, bright and unrestrained. alessia stood by the bench watching them with a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her.
for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—this could work.
the sun had dipped lower in the sky as they walked home, the soft golden light casting long shadows on the pavement of the three.
you skipping happily ahead, holding your mummy's hand with one of her own while the other clutched the small daisy harrison had plucked for her from the park.
you hadn't stopped talking since they left, your excitement bubbling over as you recounted every little thing about your day.
harrison walked in the other side of alessia, his hands shoved deep into her coat pockets, clearly not well adjusted to the cool breeze that london brings once the sun had lowered.
his steps were measured as his gaze drifted towards you every so often as if he couldn't quite believe you were real and part his blood.
when they reached the driveway of your home, you running straight to the door as your mummy came up behind unlocking it for you to rush inside the warmth, kicking your shoes off before turning to the door seeing your mummy and har- your daddy still stood at the door way.
"are you coming inside daddy?" you asked so innocently with a big toothy grin.
the words so simple as daddy, landed like a punch and a hug all at once. alessia's heart clenching and she saw the way harrison froze, his eyes widening for just a moment before he crouched down to your level.
"not today, y/n" he said gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. remembering about what alessia had said about boundaries and wanting to respect them. "but i'll see you soon, and maybe we can go to a soft play"
you pouted slight but your expression softened when harrison added, "i promise i’ll be back, pinky swear?" he held out his pink and you giggled as you wrapped yours around his, "pinky swear!"
satisfied with the answer you were given, you turned and tugged at your mummy's arm, "can i have a snack now, mummy?"
alessia smiled, brushing a faint curl from your face, "go on inside and wash your hands first lovie, i'll be through in a moment"
you nodded, bouncing your way inside and making a beeline for the kitchen as you held your daisy tight in your hand.
as you bounced down the hallway, the world seemed to grow quieter. alessia turning back to harrison after making sure you went were you should be, crossing her arms instinctively over her chest.
for a long moment, they stood there, the late afternoon casting a soft flow over their faces.
harrison shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, his hands still buried inside his coat pockets, "she's.. amazing" he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.
alessia's lips twitched into a small smile despite herself. "she is, i've worked hard to make sure she has a good life"
"and you've done an incredible job" harrison said honestly, his eyes meeting alessia's. "she's so clever, so confident. that's all you"
alessia felt her guard waver, but she quickly steadied herself, "not just me. my family and my friends. she's surrounded by people who shower her with love" her gaze hardened slightly, "people who've been there since day one."
harrison flinched but nodded, he knew it was coming. his jaw tightened, "yeah, i deserve that one," he admitted quietly.
"i know i let you down less- alessia. both of you. and i don't expect forgiveness overnight but i would like to there for her now, and you if you ever need me. however you'll let me" harrison smiled softly, alessia taking in his words, letter by letter.
alessia studied him, her expression unreadable, "your really asking me to fully trust you, after four years of nothing."
"yeah" harrison said quietly, his voice was steady despite the weight of alessia's words. "but not just for me, but for her. i'll do whatever it takes to prove that i'm serious this time."
her lips pressed together into a thin line as she considered him, the sincerity in his eyes was hard to ignore but the scars of the past were fresh and the last few days had opened more than alessia care to admit.
"we'll see" she said finally, her voice cool but not dismissive, "you've got a long way to go harrison. don't make me regret this."
he nodded, a small but grateful smile tugging at his lips, "i won't, i promise"
for a minute, the weight of their shared history hung between them — everything left unsaid, every moment lost. then alessia took a small step back her hand resting lightly on the door handle.
"goodnight, harrison."
"goodnight, alessia. message me once you've had time to think!"
she slipped inside and close the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she let out a shaky breath.
your laughter echoing from the kitchen, no doubt in alessia's mind that you were making soap bubbles while you washing your hands and alessia felt the faintest glimmer of hope pierce through the wall of doubt surrounding her heart.
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artsninspo · 2 months ago
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Richmond Inc.
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「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」
「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」
♠ summary: Terry Richmond is your boss, and the illustrious CEO of the worlds best and most elusive private security firm. Only he didn't get to where he is now by being nice. As attractive as your boss is, you find it difficult to swoon for the green eyes giant when he is perpetually unpleasant and demanding.
♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Black Reader
♠ word-count: ~1.1 K
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You look away from the light eyed adonis not wanting to get glamoured by his green eyes. Your coworkers swoon and you wonder how it’s possible for them to forget his chronic dissatisfaction and scathing temper. Running a tight ship is the understatement of the century. The former military man sure acts like he’s still on assignment. If it was up to you the last place you’d be is under his smug gaze as he details what's gone both wrong and right about the last assignment. He has no business being as mean as he is. His size alone is grounds for him to be more cautious and gentle with his employees. with. Anyone who’s as tall as he is with a body built for combat should always be careful to be considerate.
“Y/N” his baritone voice calls drawing you from your thoughts.. Looking up your eyes meet his for the briefest of moments. You consider quitting in an instant bracing for him to rip you apart for some infraction.
“Sir?” You respond.
“Great work, the logistics were perfect” he says and it’s high praise coming from someone who rarely acknowledges great work with praise”. Eyes dart away from him to you and you force a casual smile.
“Just doing my job” you nod hoping he moves on. The debrief continues and you recognize the clamouring to impress him and for his attention. It’s not in you to placate anyone least of all a man that’s so stern all the time. Looking at the clock your body settles knowing relief is soon. For all the boss’ faults punctuality and timeliness isn’t one of them. His phone alarm sounds signalling the end of the meeting and you stand first. Your male colleagues stand too but a couple of your female colleagues take their time. 
“Y/N I’d like to see you in my office in five” he says.
“Ok” you respond heading to the bathroom first. When you’ve relieved yourself of your nerves you look in the mirror and practice a detached but engaged expression. When you fail to convince yourself of the contrived demeanour you sigh silencing your phone and making a mental note to find a new job. Grabbing your tablet for work you enter his state of the art office with seconds to spare. His eyes shift rom the clock to you and he holds out his arm signalling for you to take a seat. You oblige.
“How are you?” He asks.
“Fine and you?” You ask not missing a beat.
He nods, smiling slightly. “Good” Impatience flares in your expression and his smile deepens as he looks down at the paper on his desk. It’s an odd sight to see him smile for anyone other than clients.
“Your reviews are stellar. Both your team and directors have glowing reviews for you. Your end of year compensation will reflect that” he says and your excitement flares.
“I do my best” you respond in acknowledgement.
“There will be a vacancy in the director slot and everyone tells me you’re good with people. Are you interested in being on the ground?” He asks.
“No” you don’t even have to think about it. It’s most of your colleagues' dreams. To rub elbows with the who’s who of the world in need of private security. A few of your former female director colleagues are now kept women to filthy rich businessmen.
“No?” He seems surprised.
“No thank you.” You correct, not wanting to draw his ire. His thick brows furrow as he looks at you confused. You only manage it seconds before looking away. He sits back in his chair and you look anywhere but his eyes.
“Would you prefer another position?” He asks but all directors work closely with him. Even from your office you’ve heard him ripping into them on several occasions for mistakes. Director means his personal pawn. It means two am pick up times and calls at all hours of the day and night. Family strain and inconsistency for everyone who isn’t the job. It means he has full control over you, your decisions, company, medical history, romantic partners and every other significantly private thing.
“I’m quite content where I am now” you respond honestly.
“Is it the compensation? If it’s unsatisfactory there is room for negotiations” He explains but  you don’t think there could ever be a number to justify what that position would do to your nerves.
“I can do my job well enough now. My confidence in my abilities isn’t the same for a director position. I can’t commit to more hours or the sporadic demands. Nor am I interested in the travel aspect. My hours now with occasional overtime is what I can manage. I don’t ever want to underdeliver and I know I would as a director” you lie and his skepticism is proof he’s not buying it, at least not fully. 
“I can think of few things more compelling for a young woman than international travel with every luxury” he says.
“You’re the furthest thing from a young woman” you mutter, speaking out of turn. Thankfully his eyes light and he seems more amused than annoyed. He reaches for his glasses taking a file from the folder organizer on his desk. He swipes his clearance fob over it and light flashes into his eye before the file opens. The way his muscles contract for the simplest gestures is sinful. He studies the papers flipping through them and then looks back up at you.
“Is it the dog?” He asks, revealing he’s looking into your file.
“Pardon me?”
“Your dog, is that why you don’t want to travel or take on the promotion?” He asks. You’re the reason. You think to yourself, but it's hardly an appropriate response. “Or has something changed in your personal life?” He pries acting like it’s within his authority. 
“I have nothing I want to flag or discuss” you respond succinctly. Mr. Richmond nods and removes his glasses before putting the paper back into its folder, locking it and setting it back into the organizer. His notifications sound and he checks his luxury watch. He’s so fucking fine. You swallow knowing he’s probably the worst with women.
“You’re free to go” he says dismissively, back to his asshole ways. 
“Good day” you respond but it seems to make him flinch slightly.
“Good day” he responds and you leave.
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Author's note: i'm trying to be better about hoarding drafts. So here's a little Aaron fic for the girls 🖤 how do we feel about mean terry? don't forget to ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog ☑vote on the polls
002 ⇛
tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993
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gogogodzilla · 1 year ago
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Easy Mornings
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mike schmidt x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, mike’s POV, almost getting caught, i know the majority voted for a different way this could go, but i already had this one started (sorry y'all, that one is coming soon) part 1 ✩ part 2 ✩ main masterlist ✩ read on ao3
Mike gripped the steering wheel with an iron grip for the entire drive home, excitement buzzing throughout his body. Your panties weighed heavy in his front pocket, now covered his cum. 
His hands shook as he pulled into the driveway. He wondered how he’d find you. Would you be buried under the covers of his bed, one of his old t-shirts just barely covering your modesty? He’d gently pull the covers off of your sleeping form, exposing yourself to him. His breath would catch in his throat as he took in your figure and his hands would trail up your bare thighs. 
His mind got lost in the possibilities as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of thoughts of you at least long enough for him to get in the front door. 
His keys jingled softly against the lock and he breathed in the scent of freshly-brewed coffee. You had your back turned to him, leaning over the kitchen table and scanning over one of your textbooks. 
You clutched your coffee mug in your hand and took a sip, not noticing his presence. Morning sunlight shone gently through the windows, illuminating the kitchen and bathing you in a soft glow. You were wearing one of his old t-shirts, just as he thought. You looked heavenly in this light, and Mike would have the image burned into his mind forever. 
He set his bag quietly down by the door and padded closer to you. You jumped as he wrapped his arms around your center and tugged you closer to him. His hands gripped your hips and held you in place as his lips moved on their own accord and trailed down your neck. 
He could practically feel your grin as you hummed, leaning into him. “Did you enjoy what I packed for you?”
His grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you into his growing bulge. He breathed in your scent, taking in the moment alone with you. 
“Sure did,” he hummed against your skin. “I think I’ll enjoy the real thing a bit more.” 
His hands drifted down your body and under your shirt, skirting over the bare skin of your thighs. He lets out a satisfied noise as his fingertips trailed over your ass. You were bare for him, your panties still sitting snugly in his front pocket. 
One of his hands drifted down and across the backs of your thighs to run his middle finger through your folds. You let out a small gasp at his touch and pushed your hips against him, already needy for him. His fingertip grazed across your clit, and his lips attached to your neck once again. 
“Mike,” you whimpered softly, attempting to keep your voice down. Abby was due to be woken up soon. 
His finger dipped in your entrance before returning to your clit, and your frustrated groan was interrupted by him sliding inside of you. He slowly pumped it before allowing his pointer finger to join it, stretching you divinely.  He removed his other hand from your hip to draw lazy figure-eights across your clit, earning him one of those pretty moans he loved to hear. 
Mike removed his hand from your clit to work at undoing the button of his pants and tugging the zipper down. He removed his fingers from your dripping core and slipped them past his lips, sighing at the taste. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he murmured against your ear as he freed his painfully hard cock from his boxers. You hurriedly nodded as he dragged his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. His grip tightened on your hip as he was already getting lost in the feeling of you. You both let out soft moans as his tip bumped your clit before moving back to tease your entrance. 
You jutted your hips against his, “Mike.”
He answered you by angling his cock up to your entrance and slowly pushing inside of you. He barely met any resistance as your pussy greedily swallowed him whole, and he let out a low groan. 
He presses his palm against the space between your shoulder blades, nudging you to bend over the kitchen table for him. You pushed your textbook and coffee cup out of the way. He lifted your shirt to get a good view of the way you were taking him like you were made for him.
You arched your back as he started to move his hips against yours. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last. You felt divine against him as always, and he gripped your ass. 
“Ah— fuck, baby. Taking me so good.” 
Your arms moved upward to support yourself as he thrust into you, fingernails digging into the wooden surface of the table. You let out a satisfied moan at his words, and he felt you clench around him. 
You stood on your tiptoes, allowing him to hit the spot inside you that had you squirming against him and mewling. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moans that were escaping you, and the desire to kiss you nearly overwhelmed him. 
He ran his fingers through the hair at the base of your neck and pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. He gripped your chin and turned your head so he could put his lips against yours. The angle was awkward, but he didn’t care. You didn’t seem to either as you reached back and tugged his hair, pulling him closer. 
He jutted his hips deeper inside of you, and the familiar coil formed in his belly. He pressed hurried kisses against the side of your neck, nipping at your earlobe just to keep you on your toes. He reached around you and rubbed tight circles around your clit. You whined loudly and he clamped a hand across your mouth. 
He shushed you as he increased his pace, “Fuck… Gotta be quiet, baby.” 
He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he became lost in the sensation of you. He was hanging by a thread, but he wanted to feel you cum around him. The thought had been driving him insane all night, and he needed it. 
The kitchen filled with the sound of his hips slapping against yours and the slight shake of the table from his thrusts. The chance of getting caught spurred him to drive his cock deeper inside you with every thrust, earning a high-pitched mewl muffled by his palm. 
Your entire body tensed against him as you came hard around his cock, squeezing him just right. His hips stuttered against you as his orgasm rapidly approached. 
With a final, deep thrust of his hips, he was cumming inside you. His release painted your insides, and he let out a low groan as he continued to ride out both of your orgasms. 
After a few more drags of his hips, he stilled within you, panting. Slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and watched how his cum dripped over your puffy folds. 
Muffled footsteps originated from Abby’s room, and the both of you straightened. He hurried to right himself, and you had just enough time to tug your shirt down to cover yourself before Abby came padding out of her room. 
“Hey, Abs,” you greeted as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and picked up your coffee cup. You stood with your legs crossed, watching as she entered the kitchen. 
Mike attempted to appear casual as he commented, “You’re up early.”
Abby shrugged, furrowing her brows, “A loud noise woke me up, but I’m not sure what it was.”
Mike’s eyes widened as he met your equally embarrassed gaze. 
You set your mug down, “I’m gonna go get dressed.” 
Your footsteps were hurried as you made your way to Mike’s room. He grinned at the thought of his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs. 
He moved toward the fridge as Abby sat at the kitchen table, “How ‘bout I make you some breakfast?”
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itostea · 2 years ago
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hot things bllk boys do as your boyfriend (rin, shidou, nagi & chigiri)
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warnings: suggestive in shidou’s part, reader is called pretty girl in shidou’s part
credits to whoever did this idea first! and repost bc i forgot tags oops
rin:
poking the side of his mouth with his tongue whenever you’re showing him a new outfit 🤭🤭
“So what do you think?” You beam with a grin, doing a twirl for him to get a 360 of your clothes. A half-empty bag is disregarded on the side of your shared bed. You can see your reflection on the side mirror and how the fabric fits around your waist. The dress isn’t anything special in design but its intended use is to be frame flattering–the kind of dress that you can wear on any occasion. It’s one of the few things you came to really like from your online purchase and insisted Rin see. In the end, you ended up forcing him to sit through your haul (not that he really minds).
Teal eyes flit from side-to-side and subconsciously, his tongue pokes the side of his cheek. The scrutiny, though it shouldn’t, makes you nervous. You don’t think he’s yet to understand the effect he has on you. Comically, you straighten up when he’s about to speak, making him raise a brow in question. “The dress’s a bit short.”
“But it’s cute right?!” You whine, doing another twirl for emphasis and stepping closer to him.
“It’s not bad.”
“Huh? Are you sure? I thought this was one of the better picks…” You frown, your spirits dying as you were excited to show him the dress.
“It only looks good because you’re wearing it,” he speaks frankly, leaning back to observe you again. Like before, his tongue probes at the inside of his cheek whilst studying you.
You try your best not to react and try not to squirm underneath his gaze and how effortlessly good he looks. “H-Huh? Yeah thanks…”
“Why are you acting shy now?”
“I’m not!”
shidou:
hand placement. that’s it.
“Ryu! Get off of me!” You sigh for nth time, helplessly writhing underneath him. “At least take a shower first before you hug me…”
“You complain too much baby,” he taps the side of your cheek with a boyish smile. “Can’t believe my girl can be so mean. After a day of tiring practice too.”
“Uh huh, I’m pretty sure it was only tiring since you’re always butting heads with Rin.”
He ignores your insult and instead leans up. “When were you on first name basis with that bastard?”. Little strands of hair fall over his forehead and his pink eyes glow above you. From below, you can really see the product of his hard work. His sweat still clings to him but that only draws more attention to his biceps and muscles. You see a smug smile on his face, realizing that you were caught gawking at him.
You avert your eyes with embarrassment written all over your face. “Shut up, I wasn't looking. And besides you literally call him Rinrin.”
He only bursts in laughter. “I didn’t say anything yet! Awh I didn’t think you’d get jealous!”
“Huh?! Aren’t you the jeal–!”
He interrupts you with another pat on the cheek. “Well don’t worry I won’t call him any nicknames reserved for you. Alright sweetheart? Or did you like baby more? Or was it pretty girl?” He teases leaning closely to you, pressing kisses over the crevice of your neck with a coy grin. His grin only widens when you gasp and whisper-yell his name when he bites down softly on your neck. “You wanna join me in the shower?” He breathes against your neck.
You’re not a fool to miss the hidden meaning behind that offer, well aware that the two of you weren’t just going to shower. “I gotta run some errands,” you say half-heartedly, not really convinced that you want that.
“Yeah?” He chuckles close up to your neck before he props himself with his arm bent while the other pushes your lips closer to his. Your body jolts as his hand creeps down to rest on your neck–with his thumb rubbing little circles over the fresh mark he just left. When he disconnects from your lips, a familiar gleam in his eyes draws your attention. “Still don’t wanna join me?”
“My errands–” Another kiss. A gentle squeeze to your neck as he deepens the kiss. You can’t find yourself to be mad when you feel his grin against your lips. In vain, you try to muster up a glare as you purse your lips. “Ryu–!”
Again. Only this time that hand slides down to rest at your hip. The sound of his lips against yours is enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be backing down either.
“Okay fine! I’ll join you in the shower, you demon!”
“Knew you’d come around.” He pulls you up and only returns your glares with a cheeky smile.
You pout as he gathers you in his arms, not finding much in your heart to push him away. “You did all of that on purpose didn’t you.”
“So what if I did babe? It always works doesn’t it?”
nagi:
literally lifts you like it’s nothing 😭😭😭
“We gotta go pretty…C’mon, get out of bed.”
“Don’t wanna…”
Nagi finds the situation to be amusing, seeing as the roles are reversed with you being the lazy one and him trying to pry you awake. He’s not usually one to wake up early but after the release of a new game he’s been wanting to try, he wanted to get his hands on it before it sold out. Again, he tries to gently shake you awake, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for you–seeing as you dealt with similar situations involving him.
“Why can’t you just go alone?” You whine, covering your face with the blanket.
“You said you wanted to try that bakery’s pastries, didn't you?”
“Can’t you just get them for me after you finish buying the game…” You mumble.
Nagi sighs. He could. But he doesn’t want to. Call it selfish but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’d be such a hassle if the line was long and he’d be waiting by himself–without you to talk to. “Nope. Can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You complain for another time, your voice muffled by the blankets. You hear the ruffling of the blanket and how the bed flattens with his knee. Your hands come to cover your eyes from the early sun streaks peeking into the room, scowling once you see your boyfriend holding the blanket in between his hands.
He looks at you blankly. “Don’t make me carry you…”
“Huh? As if. You’re too lazy to do all that work–! Sei?!” Suddenly, you’re a few feet up, face-to-face with a fluff of white hair. Your look of shock brings a small smile to Nagi’s features and he can’t help but pinch your cheek in between his fingers, positioning you so you could fit in his arm.
“I wouldn’t really call this work. This wouldn’t even count as a workout either…” he glances at you, proceeding to carry you to the restroom so you could get ready. “Let’s get you more awake ‘kay?”
You blink. You’re awake now. Completely. Sometimes or maybe too often, you forget the extent of your boyfriend’s strength and that’s always given him an advantage in the element of surprise. Even now, you gape as he continues to handle your body in his arms as if this was just a stroll in the park.
“Hey…I can walk there myself…” You protest weakly, opting to cross your hands rather than resist.
“Nah, don’t want you running away from me. Of course if that happens, I’ll just have to carry you again.”
chigiri:
maintains eye contact with you all the time 😩😩
A hand brushes over your shoulder as you’re doing your skincare, applying the moisturizer carefully over your face with your eyes fixed on the mirror. Glancing at your boyfriend, you tilt your head. “Yes?”
“Don’t apply your moisturizer like that. Do it like this,” he motions with his fingers, only smiling when you only blink. “Here let me do it.”
With a nod, you face him, allowing him to massage the product onto your face. “Feels nice, Hyoma.”
“I bet,” he mumbles quietly, lightly chuckling as you make a noise of displeasure when he rubs a spot too hard. Rosy eyes watch you carefully as his nimble fingers continue to massage in the residue of any leftover product. You feel yourself getting a bit bashful underneath his gaze, preferring to just avert your eyes to the side while he continues to apply the cream on you. “Not gonna look at me?” He teases, collectively deciding to just finish your skincare routine for you.
His fingers reach over to grab onto your lip balm, unclasping the container and gathering a reasonable amount on his finger. With his thumb and pointer finger, he holds onto your chin and smooths the substance over your lips. You try not to tense from his hold, still stubborn in ignoring his gaze. “I am looking at you.”
“Right,” he laughs. “Anddddd there. Done.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally peeping a look to gaze at your boyfriend. He’s still smiling, only this time his eyes crinkle at the sight of you looking so meek.
“You’re pretty cute, you know that?”
Your hands cover your face as a sound escapes your throat. “Please stop, you're gonna kill me here.”
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invincibledc · 6 months ago
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THE WHITE BAT
prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Summary: A lingering bat follows a boy, the boy starts to get connected more everyday. Waiting, and waiting.
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“You missed me didn’t you.” Your voice echoed in his head…was it that bad that he actually did miss you?
He scoffed, for the nth time as he can’t get your voice out of his head. He hasn’t seen you for a few days, almost a week. His gut wrenches at the thought of you not coming to see him. He started going on every patrol he could. He started to stay up a little later til he was knocked out himself.
Where were you?
Why weren’t you coming to see him?
Did you find another person to talk to?
His hands balled up into fist as his eyes narrowed with knitted brows. Jesus, he was acting..jealous. He couldn’t help but feel jealous if you had been talking to someone. So what if you don’t like him no more? You could’ve at least said that to his face!
“Uh Damian?” Damian’s eyes snapped up from the piece of paper he was drawing from. Looking up at a certain boy Kent that looked nervously. “What.” He hissed, Jon pointed to his hand. Damian gazed down to see he had practically snapped his pencil in half.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Damian throws the pencil away while Jon looks at his friend anxiously. “If you say so…”
But he wasn’t okay, he wasn’t fine. He wanted to see you again.
He wanted to see you now.
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Time passed, time ticked. Time went, and time flies. But Damian stayed, and stayed quiet as he watched the sun set, and the moon rise.
Damian’s eyes were getting heavy, but each time they threatened to close. He slapped himself awake.
“Damnit…where are they…” he says with a scowl. As he blinked on more time. He seen pink glowing eyes look back at him.
“Hey there birdy…” the bat says in a low voice. Their cloak covering their body as they sat with crossed legs. Sitting on his window sill as Damian smiled. He smiled, but his eyes were heavy. Limping forward to go greet the bat he was so intrigued by, he fell directly on their chest.
“Jesus..you were waiting that long for me?” They said, wrapping their arms around the boy who did the same. Damian squinted his close eyes tight, as if this was a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. The bat only smiled, taking off their clip on cloak and wrapping it around Damian. Damian seemed to like the gesture as he smiled again. Falling asleep against the bat while standing.
“Damn…” the bat picked up the boy and laid him on his bed. Wrapping the warm white cloak around his body.
“Guess I’ll catch you when you have some time to rest.” And the bat then leaped out the window. Transforming into a perfectly white bat as it soars the sky.
“TIL I see you again Damian…”
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White Bat!reader tag: @minkyungseokie @amber-content
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italiangirlcoresblog · 3 months ago
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main masterlist \\ 12 3 days of christmas
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𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝
✩ : what happens when your best friend decides to play matchmaker at a christmas eve party?
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : charles leclerc
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 0.9k
✍︎ : first one-shot of the little christmas series i'm writing. stay tuned!
-------------------------❦︎-------------------------
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The party was in full swing, the warm glow of the flames coming from the fireplace reflecting off the frosted windows, their faint crackle mingling with the cheerful hum of holiday music. You shifted awkwardly, clutching your champagne flute like a lifeline as you scanned the room.
You weren’t the biggest fan of holiday parties—too many people, half of which you didn’t even know—but your best friend had insisted you come. “Come onnn, it’s Christmas Eve!” she'd said, “I promise it’ll be fun! Besides, you might even meet someone cute,” she’d then added with a teasing wink.
“Yeah, sure,” you muttered under your breath as you leaned against the kitchen island, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.
That’s until your gaze betrayed you, the sound of a warm laughter—his warm laughter—immediately drawing your attention to its owner.
Charles Leclerc.
He stood in the middle of the room, his dark green sweater fitting perfectly, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal his forearms. He looked effortlessly charming, the grin lighting up his face making his adorable dimples pop out even more and your chest flutter in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.
You’d met him a handful of times at gatherings like this through mutual friends, which soon brought you to consider him a friend too, but you’d always convinced yourself he was far too out of your league to even try being something else. Still, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him.
As if sensing your stare, Charles turned his head. His eyes found yours across the room, and for a moment, the noise around you faded into the background. You flashed him an awkward smile, mentally facepalming yourself for getting caught red-handed, but before you could look away, he started making his way toward you through the crowd, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Hey,” he simply said when he finally reached you, his voice soft just like the expression on his face.
“Hey,” you repeated, your heart pounding as your cheeks immediately heated up—and surely not from the fire.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” His tone was casual as he leaned slightly against the counter beside you, arms crossed over his chest, clearly a lot more relaxed than you were with the way your fingers were practically strangling the poor glass still between them.
You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Last-minute decision. My best friend dragged me here because she thought I needed some ‘holiday cheer’.” You put the last two words in air quotes as you rolled your eyes, a pathetic attempt to mask how tense you actually were.
“Well, I think she was right,” Charles replied, his grin widening at your visible annoyance. “And I’m glad she did.”
You averted your gaze as a flustered chuckle escaped your lips, your face flushing—probably as red as the terrible Christmas sweater your friend had begged you to wear.
Just as you opened your mouth to save yourself from embarrassment, someone bumped into you from the side, making you stumble forward. Right into Charles’ chest. His hands shot out instinctively, steadying you with a firm grip on your arms, while yours landed on his shoulders to prevent you from falling.
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours with genuine concern.
You were pretty sure you were about to combust on the spot, but you somehow managed to mumble a confused ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ shooting a glance back at whoever put you in that compromising—to say the least—position.
Oh, of course it had to be her.
The death stare you gave your best friend didn’t seem to faze her for a moment; instead, she gestured upward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Following her gaze, you looked up and froze.
Mistletoe.
Dangling right above your heads.
Charles tilted his head back, noticing it too, the brief confusion on his face replaced by an unreadable expression as he glanced down at you once again.
“Well,” he began, his voice teasing, “you know the tradition.”
You could swear your heart skipped a few beats, the implication of what he’d just said making you feel weak in your knees. “I… uh, we don’t have to–”
“Only if you want to.” His eyes were questioning, waiting for your permission, as your breath caught in your throat at his gentle words. Unable to speak, you just nodded, and a soft, almost relieved smile spread across Charles’ face before his lips found yours.
You breathed in the sweet scent of freshly baked cookies as his mouth brushed against yours, tentative at first, sending a jolt of excitement down your spine. Seeing that you didn’t pull away—and that you weren’t planning on doing so anytime soon—he deepened the kiss, one of his hands sneaking up to the back of your neck while the other one was still holding on to your arm.
You lost yourself in the moment, snuggling yourself into the warmth of his cozy sweater as you savored the kiss like a sip of comforting hot cocoa.
“Merry Christmas,” he muttered against your lips, and you could feel the smirk on his even with your eyes closed. Your whispered ‘Merry Christmas’ got muffled by his mouth back on yours, a fleeting thought bringing a smile to your face as well.
Maybe holiday parties are not that bad after all.
-----------------••✩🎅🏻❄️🎄✩••----------------
©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms
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brodygold · 3 months ago
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Boyfriend, BROfriend
Asher sulked as he laid back on the couch, too upset to notice the television was displaying static. His girlfriend had just dumped him that morning and his best friend Thorn was completely MIA. He'd gone to investigate the local sports legends, the "Gold Troopers" or something like that. Thorn often lived up to his name, being a thorn in Asher's side, but he still wanted his support in these rough times. Asher had invited him over to rant about chicks like they usually did after a breakup but he hadn't even read the damn message. He'd already drunk several cans of cheap beer waiting for the guy and was starting to feel the buzz.
Asher was pulled out of his buzzed state (well, slightly at least) with a knock on his door. "Finally," he thought, "took the asshole long enough to get here." He threw himself off the couch and walked over to the front door.
Opening it, Asher could tell something was a bit off. Thorn's usual wild and spiky hair was tamed, giving him a sporty look.
"What's with the hair, man? Where's your wild side?"
Thorn let out a little laugh. "Oh, don't worry about that, bro. I still have my wild side. Just trying something new."
Asher looked Thorn up and down. Nothing else seemed off about him. Besides maybe him saying "bro." He still had that characteristic smirk on his face, and the leather jacket on him screamed "punk." He was too drunk for this.
"If you say so, man. Get in here so we can gripe about Maya."
"Thanks, bro. I got just the thing for you actually." He held up his hand, holding a golden DVD. "One of my new bros gave me something to help you get over your ex."
Asher looked at him suspiciously, his hands in his jean pockets. "What's a movie gonna do for me?"
"Trust me, bro. He showed it to me when I met him and it's almost life-changing in a way."
"If you say so. Can you put it in? I'm a bit drunk."
"Sure thing bro."
Thorn put the disc into the player, turning the TV off the static. In its place was a shiny golden spiral, drawing Asher in instantly. The gold swirled in his eyes, mixed with a bit of white and brown. Images of naked women appeared in the background behind it.
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Asher lost himself in the spiral, staring at it mindlessly. His mind went completely blank. All he could do was stare at the spiral. Stare, and obey.
Thorn removed his leather jacket, revealing a shiny golden soccer jersey underneath with "Trey" on the back. He smirked looking at Ashter's blank stare. "That's it bro, just stare at the pretty spiral. You'll be a true bro soon."
Ashtor reached down into his jeans and started stroking, just as the spiral commanded him to. As he continued, his clothes started changing. His black t-shirt glowed gold, transforming into a shiny gold soccer jersey with his true name on the back. His jeans turned into a set of golden shorts, giving him more room to stroke as he pulled them down further. His wild and crazy hair got tapered down into a classy, sporty look that matched Trey's.
Ashton's mind was being rewritten at the same time, his old self going into his balls with every stroke. His name change was solidified first, the first piece of his new identity. The images of women changed into men stroking themselves just like he was, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He found himself admiring their forms and their strokes, eyeing the big packages. Thoughts of being with women and loving their bodies head to toe vanished completely. Only men would satisfy him now.
Trey leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ashton could feel himself blush as he continued stroking. Memories of being with Trey as boyfriends, serving the Golden Army together both on and off the field. They sure knew how to party together in the locker room...
"Cum for me, babe"
The spiral finally ended as Ashton came, spurting his old self out onto the floor in front of him. Trey would be sure to clean that up later.
"Come on babe. We have practice in 30 minutes!"
Ashton looked up at his boyfriend and smiled. "Sure thing babe. Let's get going. But first..." He walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling a sinister smile.
"How about a quick round 2?"
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dippindaz · 4 months ago
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Burned Bridges (Billy Hargrove x Reader)
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Helloing, please enjoy this quick, somewhat lazy oneshot for Billy <3
You didn’t knock when you climbed through Billy’s bedroom window. The old screen squeaked as you pushed it up, and you slipped inside with practiced ease, landing lightly on the carpet. The room was dark except for the soft orange glow of a streetlamp outside.
Billy was lying on his bed, hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers he was too afraid to ask. He didn’t move when you came in, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
“You’re getting slow,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Took you, what, ten seconds to get in this time?”
“I can leave if you’re going to be a jerk,” you shot back, dropping your backpack by the wall.
He turned his head to look at you, one brow raised. “And miss the privilege of my company? Nah, you wouldn’t do that.”
You rolled your eyes but flopped down onto the bed beside him. “What happened this time?” you asked, already knowing the answer.
He shrugged, but you caught the tightness in his jaw, the way his knuckles were red and raw like he’d been punching the wall again. “Same old crap,” he muttered.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It never was with Billy. He was one of the few people who didn’t need you to fill the quiet. After a moment, you nudged his arm with your elbow.
“Come on,” you said. “Let’s go.”
His brow furrowed. “Go where?”
“Anywhere,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. “The beach, the pier—just not here.”
“(Y/N)—” he started to protest, but you cut him off with a look.
“Billy, we’re going.”
He sighed but didn’t argue. Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were racing down the boardwalk on your bikes, the salty air whipping through your hair. It was late enough that most of the vendors had closed, but the carousel lights still glittered against the water.
Billy was laughing as he rode ahead, his hands lifted off the handlebars like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Show-off!” you called, pedaling to catch up.
“Try to keep up, princess!” he shot back, the grin on his face so wide it made your chest ache.
Later, the two of you sat on the sand, your bikes discarded behind you. Billy leaned back on his hands, his head tilted toward the sky.
“You ever think about leaving?” he asked suddenly.
“California?”
“Yeah. Just... getting out. Going somewhere no one knows your name. Starting over.”
You glanced at him, his profile sharp against the soft glow of the moon. “Where would you go?”
“Anywhere,” he said. “Everywhere. Just... away.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment. “Promise me something?”
His gaze shifted to you, curious. “What?”
“When you leave, you’ll take me with you.”
For a second, his expression softened in a way that you rarely saw. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I promise.”
You didn’t know then how much that promise would mean to you. Or how much it would hurt when he broke it.
——————————————————————————————————
California always smelled like salt and sunshine. For years, it was where you and Billy found refuge—two kids who had too much weight on their shoulders and no way to shake it off. Whether it was sneaking off to the beach or eating popsicles on the curb after another one of Neil’s blowouts, you had always been his safe place. And he was yours.
But when Billy moved to Hawkins, the calls stopped. The postcards with stupid jokes and his terrible drawings disappeared too. You thought he needed time to adjust. Maybe Neil’s temper had gotten worse. Maybe he was too busy.
You never thought it was you.
A few months later, your parents decided they needed a fresh start, too, and you found yourself staring out the car window at Hawkins—too green, too small, and too suffocating. You tried to be optimistic, though. Billy was here. Hawkins wasn’t California, but at least you wouldn’t be alone.
You saw him the first day at school, leaning against the hood of his car in the parking lot like he owned the place. He looked the same—his hair was still a wild mess, and he still wore that cocky smirk that made girls stare a little too long. But there was something else, too.
It was in the way he carried himself, shoulders squared, and jaw set like he was daring someone to cross him. In California, Billy walked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Here, he looked like he was ready for a fight.
You pushed through the crowd, nerves bubbling in your chest. “Billy!” you called, waving as you approached.
His head turned, and for a brief moment, you saw recognition flicker in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by something cold and distant.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone sharp.
You faltered, his words hitting like a slap. “We moved,” you said, your voice quieter now. “I called but—… you never called back...”
He shrugged, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag.
“Billy, what’s going on?” you pressed. “I haven’t heard from you in months. I thought—” You trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.
He laughed, the sound was low and humorless. “Thought what? That I’d roll out the red carpet?” He gestured around. “This isn’t California, sweetheart. Things change.”
The finality in his voice made your stomach twist. This wasn’t the Billy who used to wait for you by your locker, who snuck you out to stargaze when everything felt like too much.
“Billy,” you said again, your voice breaking, but he just shook his head.
“You’re pathetic,” he said, his expression hardening.
He walked away before you could say anything else, leaving you standing in the parking lot, lost in a town that wasn’t home, with a version of Billy you didn’t recognize.
That was when you realized you had lost him long before you ever got here.
The first week in Hawkins was a blur of unpacking, polite introductions with neighbors, and navigating a high school that felt like a bad dream. It wasn’t California—the hallways were narrower, the air felt heavier, and the students all seemed to stare a little too long at the new kid.
You hadn’t seen Billy since that day in the parking lot. You thought about approaching him again, but every time you saw him, he was surrounded—girls trailing after him, boys cracking jokes and slapping him on the back like he was the king of Hawkins High.
He’d never been like that back home. Sure, Billy had always been confident, maybe a little reckless, but there was something different now. The confidence had an edge to it, sharp and cutting, like he was daring someone to challenge him.
Still, you tried.
It was after gym class when you found him by the bleachers, leaning against the chain-link fence with a cigarette dangling from his lips. The field was empty except for the two of you.
“Hey,” you said, approaching cautiously.
Billy glanced at you; his expression unreadable. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to see how you’re doing.” You hesitated, then added, “You don’t have to act like you don’t know me, you know.”
He took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy cloud. “Maybe I don’t.”
The words stung more than you expected. “Billy, come on,” you said, your voice softer now. “It’s me. We—we’re best friends, we grew up together, we were always together.”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “You don’t get it,” he said finally, his tone flat. “This place isn’t like California. Things are... different here.”
“They don’t have to be,” you said, stepping closer. “You don’t have to be.”
He looked at you then, his blue eyes flashing with something—anger, maybe, or guilt. “Drop it,” he said, his voice cold. “It’s better this way.”
Before you could respond, he pushed past you, leaving you alone by the fence.
The walk home felt heavier that day. For the first time, you wondered if the Billy you’d known was gone for good.
The next few days passed in a haze. You tried to keep busy—exploring Hawkins, meeting classmates, trying to settle into the rhythm of a town that didn’t feel like home. But every time you saw Billy, that ache in your chest grew a little sharper.
It was small moments that hit you the hardest. Seeing him drive past in the Camaro, his music blaring loud enough to shake the windows. Catching glimpses of his smile—the one you used to know—before it slipped behind the mask he always wore now.
It was hard losing him. It was even harder feeling like he chose to live without you.
——————————————————————————————————
The knock came at midnight. Heavy, uneven. You stared at the door, your heart sinking into a pit of dread. Hawkins wasn’t the kind of place where strangers showed up unannounced, and even if it was, something about that sound wasn’t right.
Another knock—softer this time, almost hesitant.
You hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob. When you finally opened it, your breath caught in your throat.
Billy Hargrove stood there, slumped against the doorframe. His lip was split, a dark bruise bloomed across his cheekbone, and blood was smeared along his knuckles. His Camaro parked along the side of the road.
You swallowed hard. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Missed you too, princess,” he said, his voice a faint echo of its usual swagger. He leaned heavily on the doorframe, smirking like he didn’t care, but his eyes betrayed him.
“Billy, what the hell happened?”
“Long story.”
He swayed slightly, and instinct overrode anger. You stepped aside, letting him stagger into your living room. He collapsed onto your couch with a groan, one arm slung over the back as if it were still his safe space.
It wasn’t. Not anymore.
The room was eerily quiet as you grabbed the first-aid kit from under the sink. When you returned, he hadn’t moved, staring blankly at the ceiling. His fingers gripped the edge of the couch, as if he might fall off the earth if he let go.
“Let me guess,” you said, settling beside him. “Neil?”
The sharp flinch was answer enough.
The antiseptic stung as you pressed it to his lip, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were back in California, teasing him about his terrible balance while cleaning up his scraped knees.
You exhaled slowly, lowering the cotton swab. “Why are you here, Billy?”
His jaw clenched. “Didn’t know where else to go.”
The words were quiet, but they landed like a punch.
Your hands froze, mid-movement, and a knot of anger and hurt twisted in your chest. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t get to shut me out, treat me like I’m nothing, and then show up when you need something.”
“I know,” he muttered.
“No, you don’t.” The anger spilled out, sharper now. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like? Watching you act like none of it mattered—like we didn’t matter?”
He sat up abruptly, wincing at the movement. “You think I don’t know I screwed up? That I don’t hate myself for it?” His voice cracked, the vulnerability so raw it made you falter. “You think it’s easy for me? Living like this?”
“Then stop!” you said, the words bursting out before you could stop them. “Stop pretending like you’re fine. Stop trying to be your dad.”
He fell silent. Billy stared at you, his expression flickering between fury and despair. “I’m not trying to be him,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But sometimes, it feels like I already am.”
The admission broke something in both of you. You sat there in the heavy silence, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat.
Finally, Billy broke the quiet. “I didn’t come here to fight.”
“Then why did you come?”
His gaze softened, the anger fading from his features. “Wanted to remember.”
You blinked, confused. “Remember what?”
His lips twitched into the faintest smile. “What it felt like to have someone give a damn.”
The words struck something deep in you, and you hated him for it—for making you care even after everything. But you didn’t say anything when he leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes like he could rest for the first time in years. Instead, you plopped onto the couch beside him.
When the sun began to rise, he stood, the quiet movement waking you from the restless half-sleep you’d fallen into.
“Billy,” you said, standing quickly.
He shook his head, his smirk faint but unguarded. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly. “I’ll figure it out.”
He hesitated, like he wanted to say more. Then, before you could respond, he turned and walked out the door.
You watched from the window as he climbed into his Camaro, the engine rumbling to life. As he pulled away, the weight in your chest grew heavier.
You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again. But you hoped—desperately—that if you did, he’d be the Billy you remembered. The Billy you still believed was in there, buried beneath all the pain.
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leqonsluv3r · 1 year ago
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valentine’s day
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—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb
masterlist taglist
an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol
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leon wasn’t one to heal easy.
not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.
he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.
he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.
what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.
you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.
he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.
“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.
he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.
“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.
he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.
he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.
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the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.
you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.
he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.
but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.
you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.
he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.
he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.
he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.
you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.
“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.
you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.
“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.
he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.
“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.
you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.
then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”
now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.
until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.
he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”
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he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.
the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.
you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.
and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.
he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.
and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.
because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.
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three months later, you and leon were dating.
you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.
the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.
he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.
you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.
you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.
he loved you.
and nothing was ever going to change that.
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an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.
taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)
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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago
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Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)
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"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.
"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my masterlist.
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Floyd
Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.
"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.
"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"
"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"
"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."
"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"
"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.
"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.
"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.
"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.
"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."
"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."
"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.
"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.
"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.
"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-
"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.
"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.
Ruggie
"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."
"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.
"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.
"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.
"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."
"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.
"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.
"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.
"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.
It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.
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candycandy00 · 7 months ago
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Imagine you start working at an orphanage in a small town you recently moved to. The pay is meager but acceptable, the kids are sweet, and it’s a live-in position so rent is covered. Best of all, the other person who works there is a tall, hot guy with a glowing smile named Umemiya.
Apparently, he grew up in this very orphanage, and decided to work there as a way of giving back to the place that raised him with care.
You’re trying to remain professional, even when he slides in behind you to get a mug from the top cabinet that was just out of your reach. Even when he meets you on the street to carry in the groceries for you. Even when he remembers to hang up your more delicate pieces of clothing instead of tossing them in the dryer. Even when he smiles so brightly at you over the least little thing.
Even when he peels off his T-shirt in the summer heat while mowing the lawn.
Oh god. His body.
It takes all the strength in your body to pull your eyes away and go back inside before he notices you staring.
But the truth is, you’ve noticed him looking at you too. He wears the warmest expression when he watches you take care of the kids, when he stands smiling in the doorway as you read them stories and tuck them into bed. And he practically beams as you excitedly show him the new drawings the children made for you before you hang them on the fridge.
One evening at dinner, you look over at him and notice a little bit of food on his chin. By reflex, you grab a napkin and reach over, wiping his face clean. You only realize after you’ve done it that you’ve just wiped a grown man’s face. “I’m so sorry! I’m so used to doing it for the kids!” you say, embarrassed.
He laughs loudly. “That’s okay! I guess I’m a messy eater too!” he says, making the kids giggle.
One night, late, you’re sitting in bed reading before going to sleep, wearing thin pajama shorts and a tank top. It’s nothing scandalous, but it’s a lot less clothes than you normally wear here. You hear a loud thump, then a cry from one of the kids. You leap out of bed and run out of your room, meeting Umemiya in the hall. You’re so worried that you don’t even notice he’s shirtless, wearing nothing but sweatpants, and his hair is disheveled.
The two of you burst into a bedroom, where one of the kids has fallen out of bed and startled herself into crying. She’s not hurt, so you and Umemiya dry her tears, calm her down, and tuck her back into bed.
Afterwards, as you and him walk into the kitchen to get some water, you both seem to notice what each other is wearing at the same time. Both of you blush, but you end up sitting on the couch, talking for a while before going back to bed.
Umemiya tells you about his childhood, how he ended up at the orphanage and how it literally saved his life. You feel a strong urge to hug him, but when you lean forward to do so, he suddenly turns his face toward you, and the two of you end up kissing. It was just a brief, awkward thing at first, but then you kiss again, and it turns into a make out session.
You finally break away, your skin flushed and your lips swollen. You smile as you tell him goodnight and head back to your room, thinking this might just be your favorite job ever.
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ameliathornromance · 1 month ago
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With the Prophecy drawing near, you sighed as you watched a bunch of the Usurpare Knights clank their tankards together.
They all jeered and as the rest of the Tavern drank in resolute silence. You always hated serving the Usurparian forces.
Since their take over, forty years ago, they’d been nothing but trouble. You’d seen them mistreat your father – a half Fae man – for over twenty years and now with the Princess of Lemuria’s prophecy drawing near… You didn’t even want to think about the consequences of what would happen if they were victorious in their battle.
Half of the patrons in this Tavern were Creatures, and while the Tavern sat on the Usurpare and Lemurian border – leaning more to the Lemurian side – if the Usurpare forces won, that would spell the end of your families business. Being mostly run by Creatures, the Tavern would probably be forced to shut down.
Which would also mean that the Creatures who came to the Tavern for comfort, would have no where else to go and then, would be forced into unsavoury work.
The other patrons, all shot the Usurparian men dirty looks as they laughed loudly and drunkenly.
You sighed, cleaning a glass in your hand with a dish rag.
Other Side above, what you would give for them to be quiet.
The Creature Patrons all gave you sympathetic looks as one of the Knights approached you. “Darling, would you give me-” but before the Knight could finish, he had fallen face first onto the wooden floor, earning a roar of laughter from his fellows.
You didn’t bother to look over the counter as the Knight clambered back up to his feet, the red feathers pluming out of his golden armour helmet, matching the glow of his cheeks.
He could hardly suppress his drunken giggle as he asked, “c-could you… ahaha! Could you please- please get me and my- my friends some more of that delicious nectar you- you have?”
With one glance over at the other soldiers, who were all still chortling and barely keeping themselves together, you replied, “no. I think I’m going to cut you guys off, as a matter of fact.”
Partly, you were bitter about who they worked for. The King of Usurpare – or the Usurper King as the Lemurians called him – was well known as quite a cruel and unforgiving man.
You’d heard stories about how he’d treated his mother when she was still alive. He routinely used her as target practice for archery and demanded that she always be the one to help him collect his arrows, before he’d order her to stick an apple on the top of her head and resume her ‘rightful position’ as the King would say.
It was only a matter of time before he missed the apple on his mothers head. And one day, he did.
Who would willingly pledge their sword to a man like that? Who slaughtered his own mother for the sake of becoming a better aim?
If you were going to be cruel, at least put someone in the position who deserved it. Like a murderer or thief who stole from charities. Even a servant would have been better than his own mother.
The other part of you despised the Knights on the basis of what they did to your parents. Your father was beaten more times than you could count, just because of his Fae heritage and your mother was forced to watch.
Some of the Knights, at least seemed to be apprehensive to their behaviours… but more often than not, it was the malicious kind of person, who just wanted to beat up Creatures because of their own prejudices, who joined the Usurper King’s forces.
You had served these Knights on the basis that they would have one drink and then would have gone back to their camp, which was based a few miles out from the Tavern.
But nope. They had decided to outstay their welcome.
At your refusal, the drunken Knight’s face fell. He no longer chuckled like an idiot, and instead, slammed his fist down on the counter. “Look, darling,” he slurred. “I’m not playing games! No games!” He flung his arm out like he was swatting at an invisible fly. “So, stop with the joke and gimme more drinks!”
“You still haven’t paid for your first half,” you said, coldly. “And look at the lot of you, I don’t even think you’ve even got a Jule to share between the lot of you.”
The Knight’s face contorted. “Thatss not true!” He snapped. Turning on his heel, he called out to his fellows, “oi! Do you guys have any more Jules?”
“Tell her she can get fucked if she thinks we’re paying!” One of the Knights shouted. “His Majesty will be running this land soon enough, and then we won’t have to pay for drinks!”
You rolled your eyes, “sorry. Guess that means no more drinks for any of you.”
“Now listen here, bitch.” The Knight snarled. “You are gonna get me and my friends-” he hiccuped. “More drinks, so help you Prophet Lilybeth, and we won’t pay for them…”
“She said no.”
Both you and the Knight’s heads whipped around to face the other end of the bar. Shrouded in darkness, but still visible thanks to the candle light on the table, a cloaked figure turned to face you.
“Look, while you’re here, this is the bar keeps land.” The figure said. He rose his own tankard and gestured to you. “Not Lemurian, not Usurparian; Hers. Now why don’t you back off, and leave her be? She’s trying to save your Usurper assess from getting liver failure.”
You search your mind for the figures appearance. He’d been in the Tavern since it’d opened that morning, one of the first Patrons to walk in… of course, you met a lot of people while working this job, but why couldn’t you remember his appearance?
From the place you stood behind the bar, you could tell he was descended from Orcs, no thanks to the green skin and tusks sticking out the bottom of his jaw. But there was something else that made him recognisable, apart from his Creature appearance.
“What did you just say?” The Knight at the bar asked. “’Cos I could’ve sworn you were telling me to fuck off? Did I hear that correctly lads?”
The other Knights stood, and joined their companion at the bar.
“Well,” the Orc paused, looking up to the roof of the Tavern as if in deep thought. “Sure, that’s one way to put it.”
Before things would get too out of hand, you spoke up, “look, I don’t want any issues here. You guys can just leave and no one has to get into fights or anything like that.”
But the Knight’s ignored you and headed for the Orc on the opposite side of the room.
Sighing, you reached under the table for your own dagger, kept exclusively for this kind of situation. It was by no means a weapon meant for long fights, but it could do some damage if it had to.
While you hated the Usurpare forces, you weren’t just about to question their abilities as soldiers. If you were going to strike, it would have to be hard and fast.
But it turns out, you didn’t have to worry about that.
Before you could even wrap your fingers around the handle of the dagger, the Orc had stood. His arm shot out like a hunting snake and gripped the first Knight’s throat.
As the man choked, the Orc lifted the man into the air, his feet dangling off the ground. “Look, I’m just trying to enjoy my drink before I set off into the Lemurian bollocks freezing snow,” the Orc sighed. “And the lady behind the bar is just doing her job, so as kindly as possible,” the Orc swung the man and knocked all the other Knights to the ground with one swing.
Their armour clanged as they fell on top of each other. The Orc dropped the man in his hand and bent over the group of cowering soldiers, “fuck off back to your King. I hear he’s in for it regarding trying to take the Fortress Imbolc. He’s going to need all the support he can get. And if you want free drinks,” the Orc glowered, “I suggest you get going.”
As if commanded, the Knights all scrambled over one another and darted out of the Tavern without a word. “This isn’t over, Orc!” The first Knight who spoke to you shouted. “We’ll have ya head!”
And with that, they vanished off into the snowy wasteland outside.
The Orc huffed, dusting off his arms. He grabbed his tankard and came over to the bar, where he sat in front of you. “I’m sorry about that lot,” he grumbled. “Usurparian soldiers are just such bastards.”
You pursed your lips as you took the tankard from him and refilled it. “I know. Thank you for that.” Placing the tankard back on the bar, the Orc took it and gulped it down in one go.
After that, he sighed, and wiped the foam off his top lip. “You alright miss?” He asked you.
“I’m fine. Takes a lot more than that to scare me.” You assured. “Believe me, they’ve done worse before.”
He looked down at the tankard, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He mumbled.
You shook your head. “It’s just how it is, isn’t it?” You sighed, returning to your glass polishing. “They come in, push us all around and then expect to get everything handed to them on a silver platter for it.”
The Orc chuckled. “That is true.”
He looked up at you again, pulling down his hood. “I’m Kaus.”
When you looked back at him, his hair shocked you. It was clipped short at the sides, leaving only a healthy mop of it on the top of his head. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in days, weeks maybe.
“(Y/N).” You returned. “… What happened then?”
Kaus sniffed and pushed his hair back. “Got asked to come up North by the Dux. Invite from the Undying Lord.” He clarified at your confused expression. “’Cos the Princess is about to make her great venture into the East to kill the Usurper King, the Lord said that we could stay with him until the fights over.”
“And then something happened?” You asked.
“And then something happened.” Kaus confirmed. “So, I did what you do when that happens, I cut all my hair off and now just wander.”
You didn’t want to pry into what had exactly happened. It probably wasn’t pretty and he didn’t seem like he was open to talk about it any more than you already had.
So, you took his tankard, refilled it and placed it back in front of him. “Don’t worry about paying. Seems as though you could use a break.”
Kaus took the drink and looked at the foamy liquid. “Great, more alcohol to drown my sorrows in.” Despite his sarcastic remark, he still chugged it down.
“You didn’t have to drink it if you didn’t want to.” You told him. “No ones forcing you to.”
“That wasn’t me saying no to alcohol, barkeep.” Kaus gave you a lopsided smile, leaning on his hand. “But right now, this is all I got.”
You pursed your lips, uncertain if it was your place to say what you were about to.
But this Orc seemed to be in a really bad headspace. And you didn’t want to contribute to making it any worse.
“Look,” you said, leaning forward. “I don’t know what happened that made you come here, but… please don’t drown your sorrows in alcohol. It’s not like that will solve anything. It won’t bring anyone back, it won’t undo whatever’s been done and it won’t make you feel any better if you’re already spiralling.”
The Orc’s smile faded. He stared at you for a moment, contemplating his own thoughts. “Alright,” he said. Sitting up right, he dug into his cloak pocket and threw a few gold Jules on the table. “I’ll stop but only because it’s you asking,” He gave you a smirk. “And you seem very kind, (Y/N).”
He finished his tankard and stood.
“I said that you didn’t have to pay-”
“It’s a tip.” Kaus said. “Do you mind if I come back tomorrow? Just to keep an eye out for those guys again. I won’t be drinking this time.”
You nodded at him, “I’d like that.”
And the next few days, he kept coming back. He sat at the bar and chatted to you when you weren’t seeing other customers, gave narrowed glares to any Usurpare soldiers who walked in and also helped see out drunkards who just didn’t know when to stop drinking.
You felt bad that he was doing all this to help you out and receiving no payment for it.
During his time spent in the Tavern, you learned that he was an only child, was an expert at using a battle axe and had once out-drunk an Fae at their own game.
He also got along well with regulars, and would often entertain them once they were drinking, cracking jokes and playing cards.
The whole place just seemed more lively when he was around and people regularly came to the Tavern looking for him if they needed cheering up.
When the Tavern was closing one night, he went to bid you farewell, but you stopped him. “Wait, hold on.” You’d grabbed his wrist as he had one foot out the door. “I wanted to offer you something.”
Kaus raised an eyebrow. “Offer me what?” A smirk crossed his lips, “a place in your bed?”
Grown used to his teasing now, you swatted him on the arm, to which he laughed and you rolled your eyes. You let go of his wrist and turned your back on him. “Well, I was going to offer you a job here, but if you’re going to be making jokes like that-”
“No, no, no!” Kaus pleaded.
When you looked back around at him, his hands were pressed together. He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at you. “Do you really want to give me a job?”
You nodded. “As bouncer. But I doubt that you’ll have to do anything other than drink and play cards with the other patrons. People really seem to like you here.” You smiled. “And I like you being here too.”
Kaus’ face lit up at your words. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”
And so, you started to give the Orc a pay check, week after week.
You noticed as well, that after being given this job, his whole outward appearance had changed. His hair was now washed, and styled to that it feathered upwards to the air.
He got rid of his cloak and exchanged it for a beige tunic and brown vest, which he matched with blue trousers.
Sometimes he made drinks – with your super vision of course – and made a whole show of it for guests.
It seemed as though he had really enjoyed working here for you.
And one night, after closing up the Tavern, he said to you, “do you know, I think I really feel happy here.”
You snorted and laughed as you closed the shutters. “Well I should hope so.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Kaus said, smiling. “I meant… before you allowed me to come in here and pester you, I really didn’t have any direction to go in. I was just drinking and hoping that it would drown out the awfulness of my existence… But with you,” He looked at you. “You drown out all that badness… I’ve actually started thinking about growing my hair back.”
You tried to imagine the Orc with long hair. He’d kept it short the whole time he’d been under your employment, but when you imagined him with it… He didn’t look half bad.
He gave you a smile. Not a smirk or smug grin, a real, genuine smile. “But… agh sorry, that was a really weird way to go into this. But I was wondering, if-”
A knock on the door interrupted him.
Kaus sighed and rolled his eyes as you called out, “we’re closed!” You grabbed the plank of wood you kept next to the door to lock it, but just as you were about to set it in place, a voice from the other side responded: “This is the Lemurian Guard! We need to speak to the Orc.”
Whipping around to look at Kaus, he gave you a shrug.
The Lemurian guards were always better customers than the Usurparian. And because they’d always been good to the Tavern and it’s other patrons, you opened the door to them.
Their silver armour glinted in the Taverns candle light as they stepped inside, tracking in snow from the cold darkness outside.
“Why do you need to see Kaus?” You asked, frowning. “He’s not done anything wrong. He’s a good Orc.”
The soldier shook his head, “he hasn’t done anything wrong, the King and Queen request an audience with him.”
“What?” Kaus peered his head around the door, “why?”
This baffled you as much as it did him, including the Lemurian soldier. “I’ve just been sent to come and get you. According to a report we’ve had filed, you share a distaste for the Usurper and his forces. And as far as I can gather, that’s why the King and Queen want to see you.”
You and Kaus looked at each other. “And I’m assuming I can’t refuse?” Kaus asked, finally.
“No. You can’t.” The soldier said. “Now please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is, and come along quietly.”
Kaus gave you a furtive glance. “… Is it okay if I take some time off?” He asked you, smiling sheepishly.
“Looks like I don’t have a choice but to give you some,” you sighed. “Be safe, okay?”
He nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I promise I will.” Kaus stepped outside the Tavern and into the darkness, following the soldier.
He was only a few steps ahead before he turned and called to you. “How about we share a drink when I get back?! Like a date!”
You were stunned by his question, but given that he was getting further and further away into the darkness, you called back, “yeah! That sounds great!”
You heard Kaus’ whooping from as he vanished deeper into the darkness.
Smiling, you continued closing up the whole Tavern. You couldn’t stop your grin as you blew out the candles and made sure all the windows and doors were locked, before proceeding upstairs to your room, where you fell into a deep sleep, smile still plastered on your face.
You only really began to worry about Kaus, when he wasn’t back the next morning.
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