#how much she likes my scarf even though it's the same one i wear every week....she's adorable | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writing-blog-iguess · 7 months ago

Text

Online Matchup 10

Summery: it’s been two months since Christmas, and there is a bit of distance between Jason and Y/N. but not to worry, Stephanie Brown is on the case!

Warning: swearing, fluff and sprinkle of angst if you squint I think?

Tag-list: @teapartydreams

Parts: ao3 series master list

Feedback is always welcome!

—————

March 2

Unknown (5:30 am)

Are you guys still together?

Did something happen between you and Jason?

Do I need to kick his ass?

Do need to kick your ass?

Y/N

Huh?

What are you talking about?

And who even is this?

Unknown

Please I just need to know if there’s something wrong

Your my favourite couple

And I haven’t seen Jason this happen in a long time

I need to know

Y/N

Who is this?

How did you get my number?

Did Jason give it to you?

Did Conner?

Tim?

But you didn’t get an answer. Sticking out your tongue, you set the phone down as you flopped back onto the bed. There weren't a lot of people who had your number, and the ones that do won’t give it away.

Rubbing your face, you thought back but no one came to mind. There was Tim, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He wouldn't do that to you twice. Would he? Groaning, you weren't sure anymore.

Before you could ponder anymore your phone started to ring. Groaning you palmed for your phone and answered it without glancing at the ID.

"You still haven't answered my questions?" the person said the minute the call went through furrowing your eyebrows, you pulled the phone away to see who called. It was the same number who had texted earlier.

"How the hell did you get my number?" you asked once the phone was back ear to your ear.

"Not important," she waved away your concern. "What is important is what happened between you and Jason."

"No. Whatever is between me and Jason is none of your business."

"It is, if he’s my brother." she shot back. Covering your eyes with your free hand and sighed. There's only one person you could think of who would be ballsy enough to confront you. Granted, you met her once and that was through a video chat. Through Jason. But you could tell they mean the world to each other. Even though Jason doesn't show it, you could tell.

"Stephanie," you said, cutting her rambling off. "If Tim gave you my number I swear.”

“What? No, I went through Jason’s phone for your number. And I have to say, your conversations are wild.”

“I swear to god.”

“I didn’t read all of it. I just wanted to know when was the last time you guys talked. And that was Valentine's day. I am not counting that, by the way. You guys just said thanks. Lame, not really a conversation. The real conversation was at Christmas."

…What?

“Has it been that long since we talked?" you asked in wonder, and thought back to what happened.

"Yeah, so? What happened between the two of you?"

“Been busy I guess. With school and work.” That was a lie and you know it. Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Staphanie scoffed and you winced.

“Don’t give me the same bullshit Jason gave me,” she said, “every time we’d ask, he’d say that or change the topic. Please can you give me the real reason?”

“So you can fix it?”

“So I can understand,” she stressed. “Jason was the happiest when he was talking to you. Now he just mopes around and snapping at everyone.”

“Oh.”

Guilt churned in your stomach at the realization that not talking affected him. To tell the truth, it affected you just as much. And it felt like too much time had passed to start again. Too afraid he wasn’t interested in you.

“So? What happened at Christmas?” Stephanie asked again, and you wondered where her patience came from. You dropped your hand from your face and sighed. It was no use, she was going to get it out of you one way or the other. You caved.

“He came to Metropolis after he called. So he spent the night. I, uh, woke him up from a nightmare and he didn’t react well.”

“What’d he do?”

“He attacked me I guess,” you answered, subconsciously rubbing your neck. The bruises had faded but for a while you were wearing scarfs and other clothing to hide them. Your friends had made fun of you for it, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth.

“Shit.”

Yeah. Later he told me the story of how he died. Well, not the full story. Just said it was an accident and he was dead for a while.”

“But he told you about the pit?”

“Yup.”

That had sent you into a rabbit hole when you got home. When Jason had dropped you off at home you couldn't stop replaying your conversation and being curious you went online trying to find everything there was to know what the Lazarus pit was, and the group of assassins. Naturally it just gave you verses from the bible, and could find nothing on the League of Assassins.

Not one to back down from a challenge, you went diving into the dark web. There, you got all the information you wanted and plus some. The only downside was that you got someone's attention. Wanting to know more you followed the person and immediately closed the laptop.

You nearly destroyed your computer when you followed the single.

Not wanting Batman to find anything on you wiped it and just used it for school. Well not before creating a backdoor to Batman's computer. Who knows, maybe you'll need some information that only Batman has.

"Are you scared of him?” Steph asked, voice quiet. "Because then I get why there's radio silence from your end."

"And Jason’s end?" you asked not sure if you wanted to know the answer to.

"Sort of. He's scared of losing you. So he's keeping his distance. Waiting for you to stop pushing. He thinks it worked. Which makes him stupid, because he likes you and shouldn't do shit like that.”

"And I'm not helping.”

"And you're not helping."

"Okay. Okay, I have a plan. But it's going to take me a couple of hours "

"Ooh, tell me."

“Just going to do some baking.”

"Can I have brownies?"

"Only if you tell me what everyone else's favourite baked goods are."

"What? Boo, you shouldn't, they were going to come and bombard you. I talked them down."

"If you want your brownies, tell me.”

"Oh, I see why he likes you. Fine. But get my brownies first.”

You laughed, and grabbed a notebook and pen to write down your list. After your phone call with Stephanie, you made a list of the things that you need.

Quickly getting changed, you grabbed your keys and wallet, and left for the grocery store. An hour later, you were panting slightly in your apartment with grocery bags around your feet. You wondered slightly if you were going over bored. But waved the thought away.

Once gaining your breath, you began your baking mission.

Stephanie (10:30am)

How's it going?

Y/n

Uh....

There's a chance I might have gone overboard.

Stephanie

What?

Y/n

*A picture of all types of cookies, pies, cakes, and scones scattered around the kitchen.*

Stephanie

Holy shit.

Why?

Y/n

I don't know what happened

One minute I'm making cookies, the next I come to and this is all made

Stephanie

I don't see brownies

Y/n

*An imagine of brownies baking in the oven*

I've made two different types

Stephanie

If things don't work out with Jason

I'm available

Y/n

I'll keep that in mind.

Stephanie

So, how are you going to bring that to Jason’s?

Y/n

Is he home?

Stephanie

Uh, like me check

He is not, he’s at Bruce’s

Y/n

I thought he hated spending time there

Stephanie

He sort of does?

Y/n

What does that even mean?

Stephanie

It means that he mopes around the house

And Dick told him to go home it all he was going to do is mope

Jason said he would rather be where people are than at home

Y/n

Oh.

Stephanie

Yeah

So! How are you going to bring me my brownies?

Y/n

Uber?

Stephanie

I think the fuck not

Y/n

Then what do you suggest?

Stephanie

I'm so glad you asked

Y/n.

I have regrets

Stephanie

Dick is going to be around your place in an hour.

Y/n

Stephanie!

You didn't have get him to do that

Stephanie

What? He's my brother

Plus he wants those cookies

Y/n

Not your brownie?

Stephanie

No, those are mine

And I will throw hands with anyone who thinks they can steal them.

Y/n

Okay

Remind me not to come between you and your brownies

Stephanie

Good

I don't want you to learn the hard way.

I like you.

Y/n

I like you too.

Stephanie

Enough to leave Jason for me?

Y/n

Ha!

No, you'll just use me for my brownies.

Stephanie

Touché

So, can Dick come by?

Y/n

You're not going to take no for an answer

Stephanie

Oh you know me so well

Y/n

I've known you for a day, if even that.

Stephanie

Who says friendship can't form so quickly?

Y/n

Wait, did you say an hour?

Stephanie

Yup

Y/n

Make it two

An hour won't be enough time

Stephanie

What?

You still have things to bake?

Y/n

Ha!

No, after the brownies are done, I need to let them cool before packing them up

Plus I need to shower and change.

I smell so bad all sweaty and stuff

I think I have flour up my nose

Stephanie

That is to much info

Y/n

I thought we were friends?

Stephanie

We are

Were just not that close yet

Y/n

Mm. See you in a couple of hours.

You and three others have been added to a group chat.

Something that actually makes sense, sometimes

Conner

DID YOU AND JASON BREAK UP

Ellie

Real smooth Conner

Y/n

What the fuck is this?

I didn’t consent to this group chat

Conner

Answer the question y/n

Unknown number

Yeah Y/N

Answer the question

Y/N

Who the fuck are you?

Unknown number

Jay’s best friend

Who the fuck are you?

Y/N

Jason’s…….something

You’ll have to ask him

Conner? What the fuck?

Conner

Oh, yeah that’s Roy Harder

He’s in Star City and Jason’s friend

Y/N

Ellie, I’m going to kill your boyfriend

Ellie

Yeah that’s fair

It was Connors idea

I told him not do it

Apparently he didn't listen

Conner

Ellie

How could you?

Betrayed by my own girlfriend

Ellie

Not sure what you expected

Roy

Whatever we have more pressing matters to talk about

Conner

Yeah, it’s a matter of life and death

Y/n

Have you been talking to Tim?

Conner

Don't worry about it

Y/n

I'm going to kill him

Ellie

Please answer him

He wouldn't shut up about you and Jason

Y/n

No we didn't break up

Just I don't know

Not sure what happened but in fixing it

Don't worry

Conner

I will worry about it

Roy

Jason deserves the world

Two hours later, there was a knock on the door. "It's open!" you called from the kitchen. From your place at the sink, you listened as the door opened and closed. Light footsteps made their way through your apartment, and soon their owner stood at the doorway.

"Do you always have the door unlocked?" Dick asked, thumb pointing over his shoulder.

You glanced at him with a shrug and turned back to your dishes. "No. I keep it unlocked when I know someone's coming over and when I'm busy that I can't answer the door."

"You still should have it locked.” he said with a frown, "you live in Gotham.”

"Ya but nothing happened yet.”

"Yet being the key word." You made a face but didn't answer. "So, want to tell me what's going on between you and Jason?"

"No, not unless you want cookies.”

"Shutting up now," he said, with a smile.

“That's what I thought. Now, help me with all this,” you said, putting the last dish away and gesturing at four bags of baked goods.

Dick whistled lowly as he looked through the bags. "Steph wasn't kidding when she said you went a bit overboard.”

"What can I say? I wanted to make an impression.”

“Yeah, but isn't this to much for Jason?" Dick asked grabbing two bags as you grabbed the other two. He followed you through the apartment, and watched with amusement as you struggle reaching for your keys that were in your pockets. You made a sound of victory when you pulled them out.

"Oh no, this isn't all for Jason. He has his own container of sweets,” you reply, turning around to your door and locked it. "See, locked." You said pointedly.

"Doesn't count, you're not even in there. You're leaving," he counted, you stuck your tongue out and made your way to the elevator. "Okay, then who are the rest for?" he asked turning the conversation back to the baked goods.

"You, your brothers, sisters, Bruce, Alfred and whoever else lives there.”

"Even for the dogs, cat, cow and bat?" You paused and looked at him as if he grew an extra head. The way he said bat told you there some washing more to that, and you’re not entirely sure you wanted to know.

"You have a pet bat? And cow?”

"It's a long story."

"Yeah, I don't think I want to know," you said, and turned back to the elevator. You both stepped in once it opened. After pressing the ground floor button you answered his question, “no, but if they're the jealous type then I can pick some treats from the store since I need to get something anyways. What do you get a bat and a cow anyways?"

"No idea, Damien is usually the one to fees them,” Dick replied with a shrug. "What do you need at the store?”

"Tea," is all that you said.

“Jason doesn't drink tea,” Dick pointed out as he stepped out of the elevator and made his way through the parking garage to his car. You followed close behind and shrugged.

"I know," you said, sniffing. "Doesn't mean I still can't get it. Do you mind?" Dick studied you for a minute, and you did your best not to fidget.

"Sure, but only because I'm curious."

"Sure Jan." Dick laughed and loaded the bags in the car. Once the two of you were seated and buckled, you told him which store. To which he proceeded to look at you in surprise, saying that it was an expensive store. "I know, but I also know what I can and can't afford"

"I guess you do," he mumbled and pulled out of the parking garage.

As Dick drove through traffic, you made idle chatter, talking about everything to nothing you could think of, when silence fell between the two of you, you debated on asking a question. Before you could, he pulled to a stop in front of the store.

“Thanks, I'll be back in a few," you said and left the car before he could say anything. You browsed through the store until you found what you wanted, and within minutes you were sitting beside Dick "See? I didn't take to long"

“No kidding, '' he said and pulled out into traffic. "Usually people take long when they say it won't take long.”

"I mean yeah but I knew where to find it."

"Plus you want to see Jason."

"Plus I want to see- hey! Don't put words into my mouth," you said, poking his arm. Dick raised an eyebrow at you. Slumping into your seat like a chid getting scolded, you signed. "Okay. So I want to see Jason. I miss him, sue me”

“And get my ass beat by him? I'm good," he said, and you snorted.

“This coming from the guy who almost fought a couch? I'm sure you could win.”

"Are you betting against your boyfriend?"

"I didn't say that!”

"Mm sounds like you're implying it," Dick teased, you stuck your tongue out and shrugged.

"Why'd Steph ask you to drive me?" you asked, changing the topic. Dick snorted and shook his head. "I could have just taken a taxi or something,"

"Yeah but she doesn't really trust public transportation," he answered, "it was either me or Alfred. And I don't think you'd like a limo drive up at your place." You winced at the thought. "Yeah that's what Steph thought too.”

"Okay, but why you?" you asked, ignoring his hurt pout he sent you. "You don't live in Gotham, and yet you seem to be always here. At least when I talk to Jason."

"I'm here on the weekends, but sometimes my job brings me here." You gave him a confused look and thought back to your conversation with Jason a while back.

"Oh right. You're a detective."

"You don't have to sound like it's a lame job," he pouted.

"I'm not saying that. I just forgot that’s all." You two lapsed into silence for a moment before you posed your question. "Did you ever find the missing college students?"

"Yup. It ended up being a human trafficking ring."

"Yikes. Did they find every one?"

"Yeah. some were a little hurt and traumatized but nothing too serious."

"That's good" you murmured, "I'm glad their okay."

"They should be thanking you," Dick said, turning right. "You were the one to bring it to the cops attention."

"All I did was talk to Jason. Asked if he could talk to you about it," you said, shrugging.

"Yeah but without you it could have been a lot worse.” You didn't have anything to say to that, so you stayed quiet.

With the conversation coming to a close and no other topics came up, you spent the rest of the drive looking out the window in silence. You liked Dick, but it wasn’t the same as talking to Jason.

With Jason, it didn’t feel like he was judging you. He encouraged some of your ideas and help spark others. He wasn’t afraid to call you out on your bull, and told you the things that you needed to hear.

With Dick, you had a sense that he was holding back. Like he was afraid to say the wrong thing that would make you run away.

Which was absurd, given what you know about Jason and all the research you’ve done after Christmas. It wasn’t going to make you run then, so whatever he wants to say won’t make you run now.

Granted, the two of you haven’t talked since Christmas, and you can admit that you needed time to process everything. But this all could have been avoided if you told Jason that you needed a minute. It also didn’t help that Jason pulled away too.

But you were going to rectify that starting today.

Dick pulled to a stop, bringing you out of your thoughts. You blinked in surprise at how big the Wayne Manor actually was, and wondered if it was possible to get lost in it.

Dick laughed and you turned to him confused. “It’s possible to get lost, trust me.”

“Good to know,” you mumbled, flushing that you’ve said that out loud. Quickly getting out of the car, you grabbed the bags from the back seat.

Before you could even walk towards the door, it opened and Stephanie came bounding towards you. “Brownies!”

“Steph! Wait!” But it was too late, she tackled you into a hug and the two of you tumbled to the ground. You grunted at the impact, and watched as the bags fell to the ground around you.

“Oops,” she said as she looked at the bags. “Sorry.”

“If I would have known you’d tackle me, I wouldn’t have gotten them out of the car,” you said, waving away her worry. “No worries. I should have seen it coming.”

"So," Stephanie said, arms and your neck as she leaned in with a knowing smile. One that you didn't trust one bit. "Brownies?" The question startled a laugh out of you, and you shoved her off of you.

"Help me bring them inside and you can have them,” you answered, and she jumped up and offered you a helping hand. Which you took.

"I can do that," she said, grabbing a bag or two.

"You know, if I didn't know better I would have guessed the two of you were dating,” Dick said in amusement, watching the two of you from where he stood. You laughed and shoved a bag into his arms.

"She only wishes,” you said, threading an arm through Stephanie’s.

"Damn right I do." She laughed and the three of you made your way to the house.

As you walked towards the kitchen, Stephanie and Dick chatted while you looked around the house in wonder. This place was huge and more than you could ever afford.

"So, why’d you bake so much?" Dick asked, putting the bags on the counter. You blinked in surprise that you made it to the kitchen without realizing it.

"Don't know," you answered with a shrug. "Felt like doing something nice. And yeah, I'm sure Alfred could do this and it'd taste twice as good, but I figured I could give him a break, you know? Since he’s taking care of a lot of people, the man needs a break."

Silence fell in the room as everyone stared at you in shock. “What? What’d I say?”

"You're like the opposite of Jason," Tim said, breaking the silence. "I am unsure what you see in him." You blinked and looked up from your unpacking and shrugged.

“Guess that's something you'll always have to wonder about," you replied and went back to sorting everything. "Okay. Steph your brownies," you said, pushing two containers towards her.

You winced as she squealed, and hugged them to her. "I have chocolate chips, snicker-doodles, and oatmeal cookies. Apple pie and pecan. And the tea is for Alfred. So if you could tell him that. I would appreciate that," you said as you pointed out the different snacks out to everyone.

"What about Jason?" Stephanie asked, peering into her containers of brownies. "You did this for him right?” You held up a special looking container and smiled when she pouted. "I see how it is. Jason gets the special treatment while us nobodies just get boring."

"You have brownies, but if you have a problem with that then I’ll just take them back," you replied, reaching over the counter as if you were going to take them back. Stephanie pulled the brownies further from you and stuck out her tongue. “That’s what I thought.”

You looked around and frowned when you noticed that Jason wasn't here. “So, where's Jason?" you asked. And your stomach flipped with nerves when the exchanged looks.

"Todd's in the library," Damien answered as he walked in. "He needed a moment before joining us later."

"He doesn't know I'm here, does he?"

"No, I made sure no one told him,” Stephanie replied before stuffing a brownie square into her mouth.

"Cool cool cool cool," you muttered and reached for Jasons container full off sweets. "Mind telling me where it is?"

"I'll show you,” Dick said, already moving to the door. "Like I said, you'll get lost if you don't know where to go."

You nodded and quickly followed him after waving to Stephanie. The walk to the library from the kitchen was silent and you felt there was no need to fill in the silence. Dick motioned towards the door of the library and wished you luck before leaving you alone.

You looked at the door for a minute, your stomach in knots wondering if this was a good idea before you could change your mind you took a deep breath and opened the door. Your jaw dropped at how big the library was, and you wanted to spend time walking through. Wanting to discover what kind of collection Bruce Wayne had. But the need to see Jason outweighed the need to explore.

You walked further into the room and found yourself coming to follow a slight shoring. The closer you walked towards it the louder it became. And soon you found Jason sleeping on a couch in what looked like a reading nook. Your gaze softened as you studied him, before looking for a blanket. Finding one you grabbed his book that was lying on his chest and covered him with the blanket.

You set the container of sweets and his book down before picking a random book from the shelf and sat down willing to wait for him to wake up. Judging by the black bags underneath his eyes, he could use some sleep.

Jason woke up to a soft humming coming from beside him. He groaned and covered his face with a throw pillow. "Steph, I said I wasn't in the mood. Shut up and go away,” the humming stopped, but only because the person he thought was Steph scoffed.

"I don't know whether to be flattered or offended that you see me as your sister.” The voice said and Jason froze at the familiar voice. "But considering I would like to kiss your stupid face, then I'm offended."

Jason peaked over the armrest and blinked in surprise. You were indeed sitting on one of the sofas, peeking over your book hiding the smile he knew was there. "What are you doing here?"

"A little birdie told me that we've been avoiding each other. And I plan to fix that."

Jason made a face. "Was it Tim?"

"No. It was Stephanie," you replied. "You should really keep an eye on your phone.”

"I'm going to kill her," he growled and moved to get up but you were quicker, and pushed him back on the couch. Now sitting beside him, you nuzzled into his side.

"Don't be mad at her," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. "She cares about you and I'm glad she said something. I'm sorry for being distant for the last two months. It was a lot of process and I guess I needed time. Sorry I didn't say anything. That's on me."

Jason signed, and wrapped his arms around you, while resting his head on you. "I forgive you. I'm sorry too, guess I thought you were too scared or something so I thought l'el let you go." You scoffed and poked his side, smiling when he squirmed.

"Don’t think you’re not getting rid of me that easily," you said, "like I said at Christmas. I trust you no matter what. Besides, I've read some of the stories about the group of assassins. And let me tell you, if those didn't scare me off you wouldn't.”

"Good to know," Jason mumbled, and pulled back when he realized what you said. "What do you mean you've read some stories about them.?" You avoided his gaze and shrugged. “Y/N,” he said and your shoulders dropped.

"So my curiosity got the better of me and I went into a rabbit hole of research."

"I doubt Google would have anything on them," he commented wryly. You nodded and scratched your nose sheepishly

"You would be correct," you said, "on another note. Did you know Batman monitors certain words on the dark web?"

"Please tell me you didn't?" Jason groaned, head falling onto back of the couch exaggerated.

"M’kay I won't."

Jason groaned and closed his eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know, but at least I can keep you on your toes," you answered with a giggle. Jason only grunted. "Anyway, hungry?" Jason cracked an eye open to glance at you questioningly. "What? I did some baking this morning. "

"Why?"

"Why not?" you questioned back and pointed towards the container of sweets on the table beside him. Jason reached over and set it on his lap before opening it.

'That's a lot," he commented as he looked at all the goodies in it. You shorted and reached for a chocolate chip cookie.

"You should see the stuff in the kitchen," you said, taking a bite. "I baked so much it's a bit ridiculous."

"How long were you awake?"

"Uh, I think Steph woke me up around five five-thirty-ish. But I didn't start baking until seven. Don't worry, the ones in the kitchen are for everyone else. These are for you that way you don't have to share. Well, except for me if that's okay."

Jason looked at you in awe as you continued eating your cookie, unaware. "You are amazing," he said, leaning in to kiss your temple. "Have I said that yet?"

"No, but you could say it more often," you said with a smile. Jason only grinned and grabbed a cookie.

"I think that could be arranged."

"Good, and don't you forget it."

#my writing #jason todd x reader #online match up #jason todd #jason todd gn!reader #batman imagine #jason todd imagine

126 notes · View notes

hellfireclubmember · 2 years ago

Text

No More Yarn

summary?: this is all fluff. like all the interactions r fluff and everyone is annoying about ur crush on steve. i'm bad at writing summaries, so basically, u crochet gifts for everyone and then realize ur gift to steve might b a mistake but it turns out to b perfect.

warning(s): not thoroughly checked. Swearing

paring(s): steve harrington x reader

w/c: 2.1k

The smell of your favorite pine-scented candle and Nancy’s nail polish intertwined and flowed together through the air in your room. Music played through the speakers of your sound system, though you weren't sure what it was since the night's music selection was up to Robin. She liked to use girls' night to introduce you and Nancy to new music, trying her darnedest to get you both out of the habit of listening to the same three albums on your rotation. She wanted these hangouts to be fun but enlightening.

"How are the gifts turning out?" Robin asked from her position on the floor. She was on her back with her hand on Nancy's lap.

Your eyes darted from the crochet hook in your hand to the ball of yarn in front of you. The ball of black yarn that had started out quite large was now a fourth of its original size. You were very proud of yourself for going through it so quickly. Of course, you struggled a little with the first few gifts. Your right hand cramped up horribly when you were crocheting Dustin's gloves. But after Max's scarf, it had become almost robotic. The repetitive motion was now muscle memory.

"I'm actually almost done." You looped yarn over the hook. "I'm working on Steve's, and his is the last one."

"You should take your time on that one." Nancy mumbled while brushing black glitter over Robin's nails. "Have to make Steve's extra special."

The looping came to a stop. "I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I make Steve's extra special? You guys are all my friends."

Robin and Nancy shared a knowing look. You never admitted it to them directly, but they knew your feelings for Steve were far more than platonic. Robin had known longer than anyone. She'd watched you pine over Steve since freshman year of high school. She never thought anything of it, everyone had some sort of infatuation with King Steve, so it was no surprise that even her best friend was not immune to the charm that is Steve 'the hair' Harrington. She figured the spell would wear off rather quickly. Adolescent crushes are nothing if not fleeting, and she was sort of right.

The intense crush was nothing but a soft, fizzy feeling in your chest by the end of junior year. You thought everything was over once Steve graduated, but then you spent the summer working at Scoops Ahoy with him and Robin. With every work shift, you could feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach. The small ruins of the short-lived crush were soon a flourishing oasis.

And anyone that saw you interact could immediately see how pathetically in love you were with Steve. Again, nothing had ever been admitted. As much as Robin, Nancy, Max, and Eleven pestered, and sometimes downright bullied you about it, you never broke.

Same goes for Steve, no matter the amount of annoying whining and questioning he received from the rest of the peanut gallery. If he did like you, that was his business, and he knew the second he opened his mouth to any of the many children he lugged around, it would be everybody's business. They're not ones to keep a secret for too long.

"Yeah, you're right. So what are you making your friend Steve anyway?" Nancy closed the bottle of polish and hopped onto your bed.

"A beanie." You lifted your almost finished work up for her to inspect. It was simple, just something to keep him warm since it had begun to get cold out already.

"You're giving Steve Harrington a hat?" Robin questioned, looking far too confused.

Yeah, I mean, it’s getting really cold, and I want you all to be warm." You began looping yarn into itself again. You didn’t see anything wrong with any of the gifts you were making for your friends.

"(y/n), come on. Steve wearing a hat?" Robin sat on your bed next to you. "When have you ever seen Steve doing anything to mess up his hair?" She was being realistic. Steve was always careful not to ruin his hair. Even at Scoops, he would get written up for not wearing his sailor’s hat all the time. He always said his charm heavily relied on his hair.

You paused. "Oh, no." You put your crochet hook down. "You're right; he's going to hate it. He's going to think I don't know him at all." You shook your head. "I should've just made him a scarf."

"He's not going to hate it." Nancy pinched Robin in the arm while you were looking down at your work. "He'll love whatever you give him, okay? Don't worry about it." She wasn't fully convinced. Nancy knew he wouldn't hate it; she knew Steve would love that you made him anything at all. She just wasn't too sure he would actually wear it.

It had been a few days since you finished everyone's gifts. You planned on handing them out the second you were finished, but you were too busy driving around town trying to find more yarn. You wanted to make Steve a scarf so you didn't have to give him the most unthoughtful gift ever, but the only yarn left at the craft store was some ugly puke green and neon orange. You were convinced Mrs. Thistle was behind the shortage of yarn. The last time you saw her, she was knitting a blanket on her porch, all smug.

You were all in Steve's backyard, sitting around the crackling bonfire. It was a nice night to be out, even with the low temperature. The sky was almost bright with all the glittering stars. Will was teaching El how to roast a marshmallow, and you were trying not to freak out before handing everyone their gifts.

"Alright, everyone! (y/n) has something for all of us." Nancy clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. She was already wearing the scarf you crocheted for her, and Robin the sweater. You gave Dustin his gloves when you picked him up. So, there were only a few left.

You stood up and started handing out the crocheted goods. "If you don't like what I give you, well, sucks. There is apparently no more yarn in Indiana."

"Woah, (y/n). Thanks. This is fucking awesome!" Eddie immediately put on his scarf. He posed and modeled it for everyone, earning some laughs and some boos from the crowd. Dustin went as far as to throw a marshmallow at him, which Eddie grabbed from the ground and tried to shove into the younger boy's mouth.

You sat down next to Steve, his gift sitting at the bottom of the gift bag, taunting you. "Is there anything in there for me?" He leaned over to look into the bag, and you quickly grabbed it.

"Of course." You looked around and locked eyes with Robin. She gave you an encouraging thumbs-up. She was feeling pretty guilty for making you so nervous in the first place. "I really hope you like it. You can tell me if you don't; I won't be upset at all. I mean it, not even a little. Whenever Mrs. Thistle stops monopolizing all the yarn, I can..."

“Hey,” Steve put his hand over yours and squeezed. “Of course, I’m gonna like it.” One look into those pretty brown eyes, and you're jelly in his perfect hands. It should make you feel pathetic, but it doesn’t. Nothing you felt for Steve could ever make you feel pathetic.

Without hesitation, you handed him the small, forest green gift bag. With bated breath, you watched as he opened it and reached inside for the plush hat. Robin and Nancy were both watching intently, ready to kill Steve at even the slightest hint of dissatisfaction. But there wasn't any. Once he had the beanie in his hands, he smiled.

“Are you kidding? This is perfect.” He put the hat on his beautiful hair, absolutely no second thoughts about messing it up. Steve was just happy to get anything you spent time making. He thought about you hunched over, working hard with balls of yarn all around you. There was no world out there where he cared more about his hair than he did about you.

“Is Steve Harrington wearing a hat on his beautiful locks? That can’t be Steve, right Dustin? Maybe a clone?” Eddie put his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “An enchanter from a different time disguised as our little Stevie.”

Mike shot up and stared at Steve. That dumb, confused look taking over him like he’s trying to solve one of life’s great mysteries.

“Shut up, freak.” A second marshmallow flung at Eddie’s head. This time he caught it midair, looking very impressed with his skills. He shucked into his mouth, and with the mouthful of sweetness said. “Yeah, that’s our Steve.”

Just like that, everyone was back to their own conversations. The whole interaction forgotten. Steve, however, turned his attention back to you, the beanie on his head.

“I love it. But you know that would make this even better?” He grabbed the hat off his head, once-neat hair, wild. The kind of wild that was still weirdly perfect, like each strand had been purposefully placed. Your hand itched with the need to run your fingers through it. “Maybe you could add your initials for me.”

Heat immediately traveled up your neck and rested on your face, burning at your cheeks. The chilly, Indiana air did nothing to help. “You… um… you want me to sew my initials on your hat?”

“Yeah.” He gave you that lopsided smile you liked. His eyes focused on you. At the rate things were going, it felt like your heart would just give out in front of all your friends. Steve had always been flirty with you. He was in love with you, and he knew that as a fact. So, he couldn’t help the pet names and the lingering touches. And you didn’t make it any easier, giving him gifts you spent time hand-making for him.

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence as you tried to steady your racing heart. “Right. Yeah, I can do that.” You turned your head forward. You caught sight of Robin and Nancy, both sitting on the edge of their seats. You rolled your eyes so hard your head hurt for a minute. You knew you had to prepare yourself for all the harassment you would have to endure later.

“And maybe when you do, I could wear it on our first date.” He leaned forward. He wanted to get a good look at your face. “How about ice skating?”

Before you could even think up a response, there was a loud bang. "Oh my god! Finally!" It was Robin. She had jumped up so quickly her chair fell out from under her and onto the tiled ground of Steve's backyard.

"Jeez, Robin. What the hell?" Max clutched her chest, her glare now fixed on the older girl.

"Steve finally made a move, everyone!" Robin yelled out to her audience. Her arms were outstretched as if she ran a marathon and came out in first place. She wore the smuggest look you had ever seen on anyone. "Our boy has done it. All it took was what? Like a year and a half?" She turned to Nancy for confirmation.

"Yeah, just about." The curly-haired girl nodded.

"Oh wow, Steve." Dustin stood up and took big steps around the bonfire to get to you both. He patted Steve on the back. "Congratulations. We were all trying to get you to at least admit your feelings to us."

"But you jumped a whole step and went for it." Lucas spoke up from his lounge chair. "Good on you, dude."

"Alright, all of you, and I mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, fuck off." Steve gave a glare to each of your friends, all personalized for the receiver.

"Wow, one confession and now he's all big and bad." Mike whispered to Dustin. They just shook their heads disappointedly. Everyone else tried their best to look like they weren't listening, like they were all extremely invested in their own conversations. But the constant side-eye gave them all away. For a group that kept the biggest secret from all of humanity, they sure sucked at eavesdropping.

The pretty boy sitting next to you didn't care if they were listening or not. He continued as if they weren't. There was no way he was going to let anything get in the way of finally having enough confidence to ask out the one girl he has had serious feelings for since Nance.

When he turned his head to look back at you, you leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. It was quick. So quick, he could almost swear he dreamt it up if it weren't for the wolf whistles and cheering heard all around him.

"I'd love to go anywhere with you, Stevie."

The cheering stopped. "Alright, we get it. You guys are just making me sick now." Eddie yelled out. Soon after, there were about five marshmallows in the air, all aimed at Eddie's head.

taglist: @slashersluttt @slurmp69 @sadbitchfangirll @actual-mom-steve-harrington @stylesyourmine @pennyllanne @johnricharddeacy

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #joe keery

532 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 2 months ago

Text

Coffee and Stitches - Part One

Shouta Aizawa x AFAB! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of blood and wounds, a small hint at violence but nothing insane.

Word Count: 8.1k (damn)

Author's Note: AHHHHHHHHHHH I'm honestly so excited for this. Slow burn is definitely NOT what I normally write, but I've been possessed to do this. She's gona be a long one though, be warned.

Enjoy~

The first time pro hero Earserhead walked into your 24-hour cafe it was almost 2am, and you were shocked. Not by the fact he’s a pro hero, or by how late it is, but by the fact that he was battered and bruised on just about every exposed piece of his skin. It looked like he’s already seen some first aid, what with the bandage on his cheek and his left arm in a sling. But still, he looked much worse for wear.

You were in the middle of your greeting when you gasped at the state he was in. He seemed unfazed. Just after he ordered his coffee — light roast, two sugars, cream and a dash of cinnamon— you ushered him to sit down in one of the cafe chairs. With the cafe empty you can’t help but want to fill the empty silence.

“Tough fight tonight, Eraserhead?” He only hums, a tired sound really. So you finish up his coffee and walk it out to him, setting it gently on the table. He gives a quiet thanks as you nod and return to your tasks behind the counter. He sat there sipping his coffee for about an hour, before getting up to get another. When you brought out the second one, you also brought out a slice of warmed coffee cake, on the house.

It was about 30 minutes before he came up to the counter once again.

“Is it alright if I ask for your help?” There’s nothing better for you to do with an empty cafe, and he’s a pro hero. You’d help him with anything.

“What can I do for you?” He holds up a tiny bottle labeled eye drops, and asks you to open it. His other hand is stuck in that sling, and until now you hadn’t noticed his entire hand is wrapped up tight like a mummy. He easily tips his head back, letting two drops fall into each eye, before placing the bottle back on the table for you to close.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for distracting you at work.” You chuckle as you return to your tasks, wringing out a wet sanitized rag and wiping down the already clean counters.

“I think good people are worth the distraction, Eraserhead.”

“Shouta.” You blink at him, as he tosses his empty cup in the trash.

“My name is Shouta.” You smile as he walks to the door.

“Have a good night, Shouta.”

“You too.”

The second time he walks in, he’s fully healed. It’s just past 10 and he’s in casual clothing, with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He looks different in civilian clothes, a v-neck long sleeved shirt and jeans, with his hair tied in a low ponytail. He still has that scarf though. Somewhere in your brain you note he looks quite nice in civilian clothes.

He orders the same coffee, this time with a bagel and cream cheese, and by the time you bring it to him he’s got his laptop out with a stack of papers off to the left and a red pen in hand. You already know he’s a teacher at UA, most people do. You’re more than a little proud that your little cafe is his chosen grading spot for the night. By the time he leaves it’s nearing midnight, and he’s worked through three refills.

That’s how it goes for a few months.

Occasionally he’ll step in with his hero getup before and after a patrol, and more often than not he’s in casual clothing after a day of teaching, always grading another hefty stack of teenaged heroes’ homework. Every time it’s the same, a ‘good evening Shouta’ and a tired ‘evening’ in reply.

Every night is the same. Until tonight.

Tonight when he bursts through the door you jump out of your skin from the bang that rings through the cafe. You’re just a little relieved there’s nobody else here to witness the sight before you, and part of you is surprised the glass door hasn’t shattered from the impact. He’s limping and bloody, dripping wet from the rain, and he’s dragging an unconscious mass that must be human behind him all wrapped up in his scarf like a mummy. His voice is riddled with exhaustion, weak and rough, when he addresses you.

“I’m so sorry.”

That’s all he says before falling to his knees and collapsing on the floor. You freeze for a minute, before rushing over to his side. He’s still partially awake, and with whatever sense you have left you quickly get to work. The store is closed down and locked up, shades drawn over the windows haphazardly and you hit the panic button under the counter, which would dispatch an ambulance and a police unit.

Then you make coffee. You infuse your healing quirk into every ounce, then force a semi-conscious Shouta to chug a cup after you’ve cooled it down with ice. You'll regret it later, using it so liberally, but that's a problem you can deal with tomorrow. With that working, you run up to the apartment you live in upstairs and grab a few things. A couple towels, your oversized sweater and sweatpants, your best pair of scissors, and your first aid kit.

The adrenaline is what keeps you from feeling awkward as you unzip Shouta’s hero costume and begin to check him for the worst of his injuries. His half-conscious mind makes him almost delirious as he chuckles at you.

“Isn’t it a little soon for you to be feeling me up?” You glare at him, but there’s no heat behind it. It’s hard to be mad at someone who’s actively bleeding, and somehow still looks attractive.

“I’m checking you for injuries while my quirk kicks in.”

“And when is that?” You try your best to keep your hands from shaking as you peel back the jumpsuit and tug the tank top he’s got beneath it. There’s a large gash on his right side, not fatally deep, but he’ll definitely need stitches and he’s already lost a lot of blood. It seems like that’s the only bad injury he’s got, which you’re grateful for.

“Believe me, you’ll know.” With that you start to cut the tank off his body, packing the wound with whatever clean towels you have at hand. He hisses at the pressure, but you know that he knows he’s felt much worse. So he doesn’t complain. The rest of his tank top is stripped off him, and you help him tug the top of his jumpsuit completely off so it sits around his hips. You try not to think about his muscles, nor the little happy trail on his abdomen. It’s then that he nearly jolts upright, and you have to catch him from lurching forward. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest and his breaths come out hard and fast.

“Holy shit. I guess that’s your quirk then?” You laugh a little.

“Yeah. Your body’s processing everything faster, so the gash on your side should be trying to heal itself by now.” Lo and behold, when you pull the bloody towels away he’s already stopped bleeding. When you think he’s ready, you urge him to stand and walk him over to the bathroom. He’s a little confused as you do so.

“I said your body is processing things faster. That includes your bladder and bowel movements. You’re going to need to go sooner than later, believe me. Think you can stand alone?”

“Yeah. That quirk of yours did wonders for my ankle, so I think I’m good right now. Thank you.” You nod and hand him the extra clothes you’d grabbed as he shuts the door behind him.

“Call me if you need help.” You don’t get an answer back, but you can hear him shuffling around so you let him be. Now with space to breathe, you allow yourself to relax. That was…insane. Pro hero Eraserhead, a regular at your cafe, just burst in all bloody, dragging a villain behind him. Wait.

You nearly trip over your own feet with how fast you move back around the bar. The dude is still wrapped up in that scarf, except he’s awake and squirming, muffled complaints barely making it through the fabric covering his mouth. His hands are poking out behind his back, and you can see the quirk canceling cuffs slapped on his wrists. At least you know he’s secure.

“Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you.” You nearly jump three feet in the air at the sheer closeness of Shouta’s voice.

“Holy- Make noise when you move, geez! Scared the life out of me.”

“Sorry.” He’s not sorry. He’s laughing at you.

“Anyway. The police and an ambulance should be on their way by now. I’m going to make myself a coffee and a snack. Did you want anything to eat or drink while we wait?” He contemplated for a moment, glancing up at the food menu. He doesn’t seem particularly keen on anything.

“I’ve got a couple pieces of a chicken pot pie left upstairs if you’d like. That’s what I’m eating anyway.” He nods, then asks for his usual coffee with the addition of an espresso shot. It doesn’t take long for you to get everything done. You made the coffee while the pie was reheating in the cafe’s mini oven. Soon you and Shouta were sitting at a table and enjoying your small meal.

It wasn’t long before emergency services showed up. You’d barely finished your food and coffee when you heard the sirens down the street, and the lights came into view a few seconds later. It isn’t until the paramedics are giving you a once-over that you realize you’re absolutely covered in blood, no doubt Shouta’s.

It takes longer than you like for the police to finish questioning you and bagging the villain, but at the end of it all you’re left alone in the cafe with Shouta. The silence is eerie as you stand there together, staring out the door the authorities have just vacated from. Shouta is the first to break the silence.

“Are you okay?” It takes you what feels like way too long to turn and meet his eyes.

“Are you? You lost so much blood. I don’t know how you’re awake right now.” He hums, raising his hand to cover the dressed wound on his side. It’s probably subconscious, at least slightly.

“Being a hero this long you kinda get used to it. Like how someone who regularly donates blood gets used to the dizziness afterward. It doesn’t necessarily get better, just easier to stomach.”

“Wow. That was kinda depressing.” You both stare at each other, then burst into fits of giggles at the insanity of it all.

"I guess that means I should be going now. Sorry again, for dragging you into this." You shake your head, there's no reason for him to be apologizing.

"You needed help, I know this place is the only one open this late. Besides, it's not like I've got much else to do with an empty store." His expression is a mix between apologetic and 'yeah, good point'. When he makes a move to leave, you take a moment to consider a few things. The rain is still coming down hard outside, hard enough you can't quite make out the other side of the street. Shouta came in on foot, which means he'd be leaving on foot as well.

"Are you sure you wanna go out into that?" He follows your gaze to the rain outside, a weak shrug following.

"It's nothing I haven't done before." He moves toward the door, and you make a split second decision. You can't, in good conscience, let a hero walk out into the rain to who knows how far his house is, at this hour, injured. You step directly in his path, stopping him in his tracks.

"Listen, I really don't think it's a good idea for you to be going out there. I've got a pull-out futon and hot water." His eyes narrow ever so slightly, head tilting a fraction.

"Are you offering me a place to stay?" The way he says it is playful and light, makes you chuckle just a little.

"It's late, it's dark, it's cold, you're injured, and you're probably exhausted. So, yes, I am offering you a place to stay for the night." He's silent and still as he considers your offer. You don't want him to go, if for no other reason than the fact that there's every possibility he'd pass out once your quirk wears off completely.

"Okay, I'll stay. Thank you." Relief floods your body. With that settled you shut down everything in the cafe and shoot a text to the three coming in to cover the morning shift that they'd need to bring their keys to get in the store. You grab the bodily fluids cleanup kit, take the time to clean all the blood off the tiles, then head up to your connected apartment. Shouta follows you up the stairs in the far corner behind the counter, through the door at the top and into your living space. You haven't had the time to really clean up lately, sketchbooks and pens littering the small coffee table in front of the couch, a towel and a stray pair of jeans strewn over the back of that same couch, a few other bits and bobs dotted around. It's nothing you're embarrassed about.

You grab the few clothing items as you walk by, move the coffee table, pull out the couch and get it completely set up with a sheet, pillows and a blanket. You grab a clean towel, setting it on the coffee table with a spare disposable toothbrush and a pair of boxers you kept in case of emergencies. One of his eyebrows shot up at that.

"They haven't been used, I promise." It's the truth, you have some spares of all kinds of underwear in case friends end up staying unplanned. Or heroes, apparently.

"I’m gonna take a shower, if you want to shower, feel free. Bathroom is the first door on the right, and the fridge is mostly stocked. My room is at the end of the hall, I'll be up for a little longer, so if you need anything just poke your head in the door. I'll leave it open." He rests a hand on your shoulder to look you in the eyes.

"Again, thank you. This is very kind of you." All you can do is smile.

"I couldn't let you go out there in that state. It's no big deal, and you're a hero. I'm happy to help." You wave over your shoulder as you disappear down the hall to collect your sleep set.

"If you need anything, you know where to find me." You take a quick shower before hopping into bed, the events of tonight catching up to you and exhaustion settles in your bones. You don't hear from him at all until you wake up around noon, sounds and smells slowly tugging you from slumber. You make your way out to your small kitchen to find the hero quietly plating some food, setting the plates out on the counter when he spots you.

"Good timing, I just finished up. Take a seat, breakfast is ready." It's strangely domestic, the way he sits beside you in the thrifted bar stools you'd adorned the small kitchen with.

"Thank you for breakfast. You didn't have to do all this." He shakes his head, swallowing the bite he'd taken.

"Of course I did. I burst into your store at ass-o'clock in the morning, soaked to the bone, bleeding, with a criminal wiggling around in handcuffs and you not only healed my wounds but offered me a place to sleep for the night." You sigh, shrug your shoulders lazily.

"Yeah, fair enough. Though I'd argue the only generous part of any of that is offering you to stay the night. I'm sure any sane person would have tried their best to help regardless." He matches your shrug.

"Huh. Fair enough." The mimicked phrase makes you crack a smile. The rest of your breakfast is shared in comfortable silence, the both of you happy to eat and exist as you are. It’s a decent meal, put together with what was in your fridge, but still tasted good. Soon your plates are clean and the both of you work in tandem to clean up the kitchen. He washes the dishes, you dry them and return them to their proper homes. You wipe down the counters and stove top while he cleans himself up, then it's your turn to get ready for the day. It's nice, sharing the space with him. He doesn't make anything awkward even though this is the first time he's been here, and his presence is not just comforting but enjoyable.

"You have everything you need? Not forgetting anything?" He doesn't bother looking around, he's sure he's grabbed all of his things. You'd given him a small spare duffel to carry everything, he probably packed everything before you woke up.

"I should have everything. If I don't, I know where to look." True. With that you both head out your door and down the steps to the cafe. Your coworkers are surprised to see the two of you emerge from the stairway, rather than you alone, and you shoot them some glares. Their scandalous glances fall and they refocus on what they’re doing.

"Thank you again for letting me stay. I'll get out of your hair for now, but I'll probably be back in the next few days like usual." You nod, then turn to quickly make a cup of coffee, just the way he likes it, plus the teeniest bit of your healing infused into it.

"Shouta, take this with you. It's got some of my healing quirk in there, so sip at it slowly. It should start kicking in when you reach wherever you're going." He takes the cup graciously, thanking you again before he's out the door. The voice behind you makes you jump, being so close to you.

"Girl...ERASERHEAD? What the hell happened last night?" You slump over and roll your eyes at Rika, her insinuation not lost on you.

"I'll explain it later. You're gonna have to give me some time to deal with my quirk's backlash for right now, I'll be back down in a few hours." She nods, then allows you to go back upstairs. The climb is a little more difficult now, the effects of your quirk kicking in at the last few steps making you curl into yourself at the sudden pain in your abdomen.

"Shit." It takes a lot of strength and willpower to actually drag yourself to the bathroom, blood already seeping through your shirt. Just like last night, you pack the wound best you can and prep the first aid kit. Sterile needle, suture thread, sterile gauze and medical tape are all splayed out on the bathroom counter after crudely dousing the surface in rubbing alcohol. It's not a hospital, but it's clean enough. Between the blood loss and the pain, you're shaking as you stitch up the gash in your side. It's not as deep as Shouta's. If it were, you were prepared to call an ambulance for yourself. The sound of your door opening and closing filters through your brain, Rika's voice echoing as she approaches down the hall.

"Hey, do you need any help up here? They're okay downst- What the fuck?! Dude we gotta get you to the hospital!" You shake your head no.

"It's fine, I'm almost done. It looks a lot worse than it is." Still bewildered, she reluctantly nods.

"Right...Do you need anything? Water, maybe?"

"Yeah, water would be nice. Maybe some apple juice from downstairs to help my blood sugar? If you can?" She's gone in a flash, a short 'on it!' shouted behind her. Well, at least you wouldn't have to get it on your own. You tie off the sutures and clean yourself up, taping the gauze over the wound. The worst part is over. Rika returns with a full glass of iced water and a small cup of juice, both of which you chug down before cleaning up the bathroom. Your ankle gives just a little as you walk around, and Rika catches you by the arm before you fall face-first into the sink.

"Holy shit are you sure you're okay? Eraserhead must have been seriously hurt last night if this is what you look like right now. You sure you don't want me to call an ambulance or drive you to the ER or something?"

"I'm sure, thank you. I'll be fine, I just need some time to recuperate. You can go back downstairs Rika, if I really need help I'll call emergency services myself." She shoots you a disapproving look but doesn't say anything else before disappearing downstairs to rejoin the rest in the cafe. Limping out to the parlor you notice everything is back in its proper place, and then some. You hadn't noticed when you woke up, but Shouta had returned all of the furniture, washed the sheets and blanket he'd used, and even organized the mess of pens on the coffee table into their pouch. Tenderly, you lie down on the couch, content to rest your body for a while, and your mind decides it’s time to take a short nap. When you wake up again it's nearing 3pm, and Rika is sitting on one of the barstools. Her shift probably ended not too long ago.

"How are you feeling?" You groan as you sit up, careful not to rip the stitches.

"Like shit. But it's not the worst thing I've felt." She scoffs and shakes her head at you, both in slight disappointment and shock.

"I don't know how you're still alive. And I'm not talking about your current injuries. The shit you've already dealt with is insanity." A small laugh is pulled from your throat. You know what she means, and you know why you're not actually dead. Your quirk can heal any and all physical injuries in another person, but the one awful drawback is that those injuries will transfer to your body. You can choose when they transfer, in the span of about twelve hours, depending on how severe the injuries are. But they will transfer, no matter what. Your one saving grace is that no matter the injury, it will not be as bad as the original. Even a fatal wound would be just survivable for you. Shot in the heart? The hole will appear in your chest, but it won't pierce the vital organ. Arm chopped off? The cut would be distributed around your arm, avoiding large arteries and any crucial ligaments or bones. It’s almost like it splits the effects of the injury between you and the original victim.

"I'm alive cause my quirk keeps me alive. You know how it works."

"Yeah, I know how it works but I still have trouble believing it sometimes." That's fair. She nods her chin over to your ankle, which is now wrapped nicely in a bandage.

"I wrapped it, since I couldn’t find a brace anywhere. By the way, isn't that Eraserhead's scarf?" A glance where she’s looking shows you that yes, that is Eraserhead's scarf and yes, he had forgotten it when he left. Clearly he left it in the corner out of the way so it didn't get tangled in anything, but in the process of being in an unfamiliar house he forgot it in its corner.

"I guess I'll just have to take it to him, then. He can't go out doing hero work without his primary weapon." Rika taps through her phone and a number is dialed, and you hear her side of the conversation.

"Hi, yes I'm calling to ask about getting in contact with Pro Hero Eraserhead? I've got his scarf here, I'd appreciate it if you could give him a message. Yes. Okay, I'll hold." She must have found a public call number for UA or something.

"Yes I'm still here. Hello, Eraserhead! Oh, perfect! Yes the number is..." She actually rattles off your personal phone number, giving it to presumably the underground hero himself. Of course, she does it with a sly wink in your direction which you return with an eye roll.

"Oh yes she'll be in the cafe tonight. For sure! I'll let her know. Alrighty, bye bye now." The call ended there and you can't help but sigh at her.

"Let me guess, he's coming to pick it up tonight and I'm bringing it down to the cafe for him?" She nods enthusiastically, a mischievous smile gracing her lips.

"You're welcome, you now have Eraserhead's number." Well, technically not yet. Just then your phone buzzes with a text message from an unknown number. 'Looks like I forgot something. Sorry about that.' Well, you stand corrected.

"Yeah yeah, quit tryna play matchmaker. Come help me up, will you? I gotta piss."

Rika stays a few more hours before leaving, not without triple-checking that you feel okay. You swear her voice was playing on a broken record with the amount of times she'd asked if you were sure you were alright. You change your bandages before getting ready for your shift, eating some dinner, popping some ibuprofen, and making your way down the stairs with the scarf in hand and a small brace on your ankle. It isn't long before the man is walking through the door in that jumpsuit of his, waving lazily at you with measured footsteps. He looks much better, now that his wounds are probably almost completely healed.

"Welcome back. You forgot this." You hold out the fabric, looped over your hand neatly. He takes it and slips it over his head in one smooth motion, letting it settle around his neck where it belongs.

"Thank you. Didn't realize I'd left it." You laugh at that, but it puts pressure on your wound and you wince. His expression turns sour, having caught the action.

"Are you alright?" You nod, breathing slowly to ease the ache.

"Oh I'm fine. You want a coffee for the road?" He doesn't comment on the change of subject, but accepts the offer for coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you work on the beverage, and you can only hope he doesn't notice your tiny limp and the way you favor one side of your body. Handing it to him is easy, and he bids you a farewell without any further questions, though he does mention he'll be back in about six hours to visit again. That's not unusual, it would be the end of his hero shift and he'd be back for another coffee.

So, you spend the next six hours as per the usual. You change out the bandages once more, and being on your feet and moving around is helping to distract from the pain. There aren't many patrons so late, but the few you do get are more underground heroes or construction workers on the night shift, and sometimes the odd college student coming in for a quick pick-me-up to study. None of them stay, and so you're left biding your time by cleaning or restocking however you can in your state. Unfortunately, you'd bent down to wipe out a fridge a bit too sharply, a bit too swiftly. The sharp pain made you groan, the small pop you’d felt meant you'd torn a stitch. You stayed bent over until the throb ebbed away, then slowly righted yourself, only to see Shouta striding through the door, concern written all over his face. He doesn't give you a chance to greet him.

"Don't tell me you're okay, cause I just watched you doubled over behind the counter clutching your side. What happened?" Damn, caught red handed. You sigh, there's no use lying at this point.

"So...don't be mad and don't feel guilty." A single eyebrow lifts on his face, but he waits for your explanation.

"My quirk has some...drawbacks. I healed your wounds, but they transferred to my body in exchange." He seems frozen, blinking slowly at you as you stand there waiting for something.

"Okay, you're never allowed to use it on me again. Now, are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" You explain everything, and he's only satisfied when you agree to let him assist you to re-stitch the wound you'd just opened. He didn't take no for an answer. The store is locked up once again, and you both make your way up to the apartment. You've got everything set up and you peel away the gauze and bandages to reveal the wound. Surprisingly, it isn't that bad. You heal faster than the average person, so the bleeding is minimal now and the torn stitch can be replaced with a few steri-strips.

"These stitches are very clean. You did these yourself?"

"Yeah. I ended up teaching myself to suture wounds because I used to use my quirk recklessly. I needed to stitch myself up a lot, or I'd be spending a whole lot of time in the hospital. I took a few low-level medical classes, watched videos, took free online courses. I'm no surgeon, but I get by fine." He nods, then gingerly cleans and applies the bandages. The heat from his fingers makes you shiver just a little, every time he brushes against the skin on your stomach you can’t help but hold your breath. He’s so close, you can see the pinch in his brow while he concentrates on the wound, so careful not to hurt you.

"I really wish you'd told me about this, I would have stayed today and helped." You can't help but smile at his sweet words.

"That's very kind of you. But it's alright. Like I said, I used to have to do this all the time." He scoffs, not pulling his attention away from the dressings.

"I still would have stayed. You may not have saved my life last night but it sure as hell helped me a lot more than a normal hospital visit. Your healing was the next best thing to Recovery Girl's. And what about the little healing bit you gave me earlier? Will that affect you too?"

"Nah, I put so little in your coffee it would only speed up your healing by a fraction. It probably acted as a painkiller more than anything, so I won't feel any side effects from it." Satisfied with that answer, he nods and finishes with your wound. Both of you clean up and make your way to the couch, and Shouta decides you're not allowed to get up at all for the rest of the night. He's got water, a snack, your phone, and the tv remote all sat on the coffee table within your reach. What a doting man.

"So I'm guessing you got that mild ankle sprain as well." Damn.

"Yeah. But it's not as bad as yours probably was." He nods, remembering how you explained your transferred wounds were less severe. He sits in silence, staring at you, clearly contemplating something. You don't pressure him to spit it out, if he really wants to say something he'll say it. So, you switch on the tv and put on an old slice-of-life/comedy anime you'd already watched ten times. It's soothing background noise. Shouta's voice cuts through the characters flitting around on screen.

"You knew you'd take all of my wounds, you knew you'd be dealing with bad injuries. Why would you do that to yourself, just to keep me conscious? I mean, I wasn't going to die, at most I'd pass out but between the medics and you keeping pressure on the gash I'd definitely live. So why put yourself through his kind of pain?" It takes you a moment to form your response. Truly, you hadn't thought about it like that before. Whenever you use your healing it's a spur-of-the-moment, split-second decision. You'd always just dealt with the consequences afterward.

"I guess I can't help it. I've always just done it, and said 'fuck it, I'll suck it up later'. Maybe it's because I know for sure that I won't die no matter how bad the injuries, and there's no way to know if the victim were to survive. Maybe I can't help wanting to help them, help you. I've always been a sucker for that kind of thing." He regards you for a long moment.

"If your quirk didn't cause you personal harm you'd make an amazing healing hero." It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind more than a few times. If only.

“Yeah. The only other problem is that I’ve never tried to heal more than one person at a time. I’ve never really needed to. So I have no idea how that would turn out.” He nods in agreement.

“How long will it take for that gash to heal?” That’s a good question.

“Maybe two more days? It shouldn’t scar either, most of them don’t.” Another nod. He sits in silence then, turning his attention to the anime you’d put on, the characters delving into ridiculous and hilarious situations. Your eyes begin to droop, and you don’t know when you fall asleep, but when you wake up the sun is filtering through the window. The window that’s in your bedroom. You’re in your bed, not the couch, and your ankle has been rewrapped and the dressings for your stitches have been changed. Somehow you hadn’t woken up, but the thought that he’d cared enough to change your gauze and ankle wrap had warmth settling in your chest. Slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen and find a note stuck on the fridge.

‘I made tuna onigiri. See you tonight for my coffee.’ A grin tugs at your mouth and you heat the onigiri in the microwave. It tastes good, the tuna seasoned well and the rice cooked perfectly. Somewhere in the back of your mind you find yourself excited to see the hero, his company welcome and wanted during your long-winded midnight shifts. He’s coming back tonight, and you make a mental note to not let him pay for that coffee, and also to thank him for last night. After your small breakfast you get ready for the day and head down to the cafe for a drink. Rika’s face fills your vision and her shit-eating grin makes you weary of what she’s about to say.

“Someone’s happy this morning. What’s got you all giddy today? A certain pro-hero, perhaps?” You roll your eyes and turn away from her, ignoring the warmth pooling in your cheeks.

“I’m not giddy.”

“Uh huh.” You shoot a half-hearted glare at her.

“I’m not. But he did come up last night and helped with my bandages. And a few other things.” Her hands clamp down on your shoulders and turn you around to face her, making you jump with the strength she’d gathered.

“Ok, my shift ends in half an hour and you’re telling me everything.” Of course she’d wanna hear it.

“Yeah yeah, you can come grocery shopping with me.” She nods, and you disappear back into your apartment to wait for her. It’s not long, you head down just as she’s clocking out and you both begin the walk to the supermarket down the street. You relay the entirety of last night’s events, all the way up to you waking up and she can’t stop giggling and squealing in her excitement.

“UGH he’s just so dreamy isn't he? The whole thing is so romantic, carrying you to bed, dressing your wounds…girl you’re out here living the dream.”

“Whatever. He’s a hero, he was probably just doing what he thought was best. Nothing more.” She actually laughs, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Oh hell no, you're not rationalizing this away. I can understand the wound dressing, but everything else was extra effort he definitely did not need to put in. He could have easily put a blanket over you on the couch, he didn’t need to carry you to bed, and he definitely didn’t need to make you breakfast especially when he didn’t stay the night.” For a moment, you let yourself dream that he hadn’t done all that he had because of his moral compass as a hero.

“Yeah, but I’m not banking on it. You may think he’s interested in me romantically, but he might not be. For now, I’m just going to let things play out.” She sighs, her shoulders slumping a little.

“Yeah, that’s the smartest thing to do. No use jumping the gun, huh?”

“Exactly. Now, where’s my grocery list?” Digging into your pocket you pull out the little note with all your necessities, and successfully find all of them in stock. The rest of the day is spent in your apartment talking about random things, Shouta being one of them. You allow yourself to indulge in the thoughts Rika put in your head. Dates and kisses and holding hands, you let your mind conjure what the hero could be like in a romantic setting. He seems to be a gentleman, clearly he’s not one to just take whatever he’s given and run with it. Not to mention even though he’s just an acquaintance right now he’d gone above and beyond to care for you last night.

Rika departs and you get ready for your shift, only a little bit excited to see Shouta tonight. He may not be romantically interested in you, but that’s okay, you’re just happy you get to spend a few minutes together as always. The cafe empties out around 7, the sun having just set and the street lights making the street glow orange. The lights in the cafe are warm and cozy, and a light drizzle has made a chill settle in the air. It’s a warm drink night, you decide, and steam some apple juice with caramel syrup for your own personal enjoyment. A dash of cinnamon completes the flavor profile, making the drink reminiscent of apple pie. It warms you from the inside out, and you decide you’d make a sample for him to taste. This kind of deliciousness may be exceedingly sweet, but it’s always worth sharing and tasting, if only for the nostalgia of the sweet treat. Shouta shows up soon after, and you hand him both his coffee and the sample.

“It’s pretty sweet, but I think every once in a while sweet doesn’t hurt.” He takes it, and sips it carefully. He’s hit by the sugar rush first, you can tell, but when it wears off he hums and takes another sip.

“This tastes like a dessert I’ve had before…apple pie?” With a grin, you nod.

“Yes! I’m glad you recognized it!” Another hum, another sip, and you take a sip of your own as it cools slowly. You have to make yourself a glass of water to chase it, the sweetness settling on your tongue a little too heavily. You offer him one as well, and he takes it.

“You ready for your patrol tonight?”

“As ready as always. Shouldn’t be anything too crazy, the crime rate has been steadily declining so hopefully nothing wild like the other night.” You reach over and lay your knuckles on the wooden cabinets, knocking three times. Knocking on wood is a habit you’d picked up from your mother. One of his eyebrows raise at the action, but you just shrug.

“Never hurts. Better to cover your bases, I would hate to think you jinxed yourself just by saying it out loud.” He chuckles, then heads for the door.

“Well thanks, it’s nice to know someone’s looking out for the heroes.” He’s out the door and gone before you can get a reply or a goodbye out. In his absence you spend your time cleaning and restocking, experimenting with drink flavor combinations, drink and food combinations, and reorganizing pieces of the cafe that you feel need to be changed or improved. A few customers come and go, one college student sticks around with a laptop and headphones but leaves after a couple of hours. The chalkboard on the wall is outdated, so you take the time to wipe it down and begin to think up a new design and another promotional item to put up. That apple pie drink could work, with the fall season coming up, and pairing it with a more savory pastry item could work. Maybe a cream cheese danish, or a cinnamon bagel. Shouta walks in just as you finish up the board.

“I’m partial to the cinnamon bagel, but that’s just because I like cinnamon.” You grin, collecting your chalk pens and taking a step back to admire your board. You’d outdone yourself.

“Cinnamon is pretty great. I’m assuming your patrol went smoothly?” You return behind the counter, already prepping to make his usual coffee.

“Yeah, nothing special.” He tugs his goggles off his face and lets them sit around his neck, the fabric of his scarf swallowing up the oddly shaped yellow piece.

“Well that’s good then, less healing for me to do.” You smile, and he returns one, and when you hand him his coffee he sticks around in the cafe for a little while. He points out the little things you’d changed, the new placement of the tables and the rearranged beanbags in the corner.

“How often do you change things around here? I’ve never noticed the beanbags.”

“Eh, whenever I feel like it, I guess. I don’t tend to leave things for more than a few months at a time. But the beanbags have always been there, just tucked away in the corner hidden behind the booth. I kept a little alcove there for larger groups, there’s an old couch as well as a large coffee table for the occasional board game night. Every Friday a group comes in to play DnD and they like the area, so it doesn’t go unused.” He nods, taking in all of the details of the cafe that he hadn’t before. He decides to take a seat in one of the beanbags, his eyes fluttering shut as he sinks. You can’t help but giggle at him, he must be tired.

“When do you even sleep? Between midnight patrols and school, when do you find the time?” He hums from his spot, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I have a sleeping bag I take with me to school. I take naps between classes and weekends are a godsend.”

“Geez, that sounds awful. Naps during the week and only getting a full night’s rest during the weekends? How are you still functioning?” One of those bloodshot eyes peek open.

“Mostly you.” You’re sure he doesn’t mean it the way it came out, but the initial shock of the statement makes you blink at him dumbly.

“I meant the coffee. You’re my caffeine dealer.” His chuckle is tired and slow, chest jumping with the sound. Yeah, that’s what you figured he meant.

“Well I’m happy to help.” Silence falls, and you allow him the peace while you busy yourself with whatever menial tasks you can find to do. You’re almost startled when you hear a soft snore come from the corner, and a peek shows you that he’s sound asleep, his mouth having fallen open just the tiniest bit with his head leaning to one side. He must be constantly exhausted to have fallen asleep so quickly. It’s not hard to keep quiet, and you make sure to turn the volume of the music playing through the speakers way down to a light drone. You shift the playlist to something more relaxed, rather than the current high-energy pop, and dim the lights in the lobby to make him at least a little bit more comfortable. It’s hard not to stare at him, he’s so peaceful and looks so much more relaxed when he’s asleep. Your mind dares to conjure an image of his sleeping form stretched across your couch, his head settled in your lap while you thread your fingers into his hair. Or in your bed, with his body on top of yours as he snoozes away, his head tucked into your chest with your fingers massaging his back and neck.

You have to shake the images of domesticity from your brain.

You let him sleep as long as he needs to. It’s a Friday morning, so he definitely has school. It’s 6 am when you make your way over to his still snoring figure. It takes you a moment to figure out just how to wake him up, but when you call his name softly and he doesn’t seem to respond you decide it’s best to see if he’ll respond to touch. Gently, you kneel and lay a hand on his shoulder and call his name again. Still nothing. He must have needed a nap desperately. You squeeze his shoulder this time, letting your thumb rub back and forth over his suit to try to stimulate a response, and his snoring stops while his head lifts from the soft fabric of the beanbag. When his sleepy eyes meet yours you give him a soft smile.

“Good morning sleepy head. It’s 6 o’clock, I figured you’d need to get home and get ready for school.” He blinks and rubs the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“How long was I out?”

“A couple hours. It was a small nap, but I think you needed it.” You follow him when he stands, and he makes his way toward the door when you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Shouta, if you ever need to sleep that badly again my place is always open.” He opens his mouth to say something but you hold up a hand.

“I know, ‘you could never impose like that, blah blah blah’. No, I’m genuinely worried for you at this rate. Nobody can get away with that little sleep so frequently. So my offer stands, and I implore you to take it. You already spend so much time here, and the commute back and forth from here to wherever you live eats away at your sleep time.” His mouth snaps shut, and he stays silent for a long while.

“I’ll think about it.” That’s better than nothing, you suppose.

“Good.” He throws a wave over his shoulder, holds the door open for the three covering the morning shift, then he’s gone in a flash. Your three coworkers eye you suspiciously, one actually nudging you with his shoulder and leaning close.

“So, Eraserhead, huh? Didn’t know you were into pros.” You hit him lightly on the shoulder, scoffing and rolling your eyes.

“Oh shut it, Shun. He’s a regular, he’s just never stayed this late.” One blonde eyebrow rises, his arms crossing over his chest with a pop of his hip.

“Right. And I’m supposed to believe there’s nothing more going on when you’re smiling like that when he leaves?”

“Smiling like what? I’m not smiling any different!” You swear you aren’t.

“That’s bs and you know it. You like him.” With an eye roll, you flip him off and make your way up the stairs.

“Clock in and get to work. Morning rush is coming soon.” His laugh can be heard from the top step, and he shouts after you.

“You know I’m right!” The door is shut swiftly after that, and you have to take a seat on the couch to steady your racing heart. Sure, you dare to imagine him in a romantic setting, and sometimes you find your mind wandering about what it’d be like to live with the man. And maybe sometimes you think about him while he’s out and about, wondering what he’s doing with his day or night. Even just a few hours ago you were conjuring images of him asleep in your bed.

Shun is right. You like him. A lot.

You have to take a deep breath and clear your mind, then get ready for bed. This was not something you had to hash out right now, this little crush needed to stay way in the back of your brain for the time being. Regardless of how you feel, Shouta is still a dear acquaintance, dare you say almost a friend, and you can’t risk whatever your current relationship is with the man just because of a crush. You don’t sleep once you’re in bed, it takes you some time to actually sift through all the thoughts in your head, but you do eventually succumb.

#shouta aizawa #mha aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #bnha x reader

53 notes · View notes

sorinethemastermind · 24 days ago

Text

Sorvus Week 2024 | Prompt: Tree Guy (No Warnings Apply)

Soren had always sort of known it wouldn’t be forever. Corvus was a tree guy, and even being specifically requested by King Ezran could only keep him cooped up in a castle for so long. He’d still sort of hoped it would be longer, though.

“It was an honor to serve with you.” Corvus had told him as he handed back the Crownguard badge. Soren had tried to think of something dignified to say. Something befitting the moment.

“And with you.” he tried, but that was just confusing, so he shook his head and gave Corvus a big hug instead. “King Ezran is really going to miss having his best Crownguard around.”

“I don’t think he will.” Corvus had said, patting him somewhat awkwardly on the back. He didn’t seem to be very good at hugging. Soren would have offered to help him practice but… well, he was leaving.

“Of course he will!” Soren said after they'd split apart, flipping the badge over and over in his hand, not ready to tuck it away yet.

“No.” Corvus said with a small shake of his head before pointing at Soren’s chest. “Becuase you’re staying.”

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in.

“Corvus, I’m not-”

“You’ll be an amazing head Crownguard.” Corvus continued, as though Soren hadn’t said anything. “I wouldn’t be leaving if I didn’t trust that he was in good hands.”

In that case, Soren wished a little bit that maybe his hands weren’t quite so good.

But still Corvus hesitated, lingering at the gates. Soren could see the others gathered up ahead beginning to grow restless; all the soldiers and architects that had risen to the challenge when King Ezran offered their aid to Lux Aurea. Corvus shifted his feet, then reached into his pouch and pulled something out. He held it out into the space between them as an offering.

“To remember me by.”

Soren reached out and took the familiar piece of fabric. It was soft (just like he’d imagined it, not that he’d done that often) and despite years of wear and tear the material was still that same shade of light teal.

“But this is your scarf!” Soren offered it back to him. “It’s like… your thing.”

“I’d like to think my thing is more than a piece of fabric.” Corvus replied. “Anyway, I won’t need it where we’re going. The Sunfire elf lands are, well, rather sunny.”

“Okay.” Soren hugged the scarf to his chest, holding it alongside the badge, still clutched in one hand. “Well, thanks. Not that I was gonna forget you anyway. Like I even could.”

He laughed, but Corvus turned away a little bit, covering his face. Soren wondered if he’d said something wrong.

“I shouldn’t keep the others waiting.” Corvus said quickly, nodding to him. He jogged off then without so much as a goodbye.

Maybe it was because they’d already said goodbye. Maybe it was because goodbyes were hard. Soren wasn’t very fond of them himself. He said it anyway, though.

“Bye!” he waved, the teal scarf clutched in his fist billowing like a flag of surrender. “Till… whenever.”

Soren’s voice died off as the first horses started away from the castle, Corvus’ among them.

After that there was another day that felt empty. Every year he would visit each of their rooms (except the one, he never went in that one) to give them the update.

On Claudia’s birthday he sat on her bed, the mattress all dipped in the middle from jumping (she’d always liked to jump on her bed) and he told her about what she’d missed. That way when she came back, it would be like she hadn’t missed anything at all.

This time he told her about Corvus. Which felt silly, seeing as he wasn’t even here anymore. And it wasn’t like they’d even been very good friends. Had they?

But he still told her about how they used to do laps of the castle in the early mornings, even once the Crownguard testing was completed. And how he hadn’t been sure if Corvus would want to keep doing it, but he’d shown up at their usual spot, so he had! And how sometimes Soren would show him the cool, secret passages in the castle (to better protect the king, of course). And how in turn Corvus would bring him out into the woods after their shifts ended and show him the places where little critters went for a drink, or the most colorful mushrooms grew, or the sweetest smelling flowers.

“I know you used to like finding special spots, Clauds. For your spells and stuff, you know?” Soren had told her empty room. “Maybe I could show you a few of them sometime. Flowers and mushrooms have to be in some sort of spell.”

But the room never talked back, so eventually he just left the slice of cake on her desk. He’d come back for it tomorrow, so it didn’t get moldy (he’d learned from last year).

And then on Corvus’ birthday he talked to him about Claudia, because there wasn’t really anyone else he could talk to about her. And sometimes it was nice to just talk, even if it was to an empty room.

“And I’m just worried, you know?” he said to the ceiling from his place lying on the floor (it had felt like intruding to sit on the bed, even if it wasn’t really Corvus’ bed anymore). “Because I really thought she would have come back by now. At least to get her stuff. But I checked again, and everything’s exactly like she left it. She didn’t even pack an extra shirt, Corvus. She’s been wearing the same shirt for almost two years.”

He sighed. “I just really thought she’d be back by now. It’s over, isn’t it?”

When the room didn’t reply, he pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the bed. “I didn’t know what kind of cake you liked, so I just brought this.”

Soren placed the little parcel on the bed before leaving, closing the door gently behind him.

As he was walking down the hall towards his own room he heard footsteps in the corridor behind him and spun around, hand flying to the hilt of his sword. But it was just…

It was just Corvus.

“Corvus?” His eyes widened. “Corvus, did you… did you change your hair?”

The other man’s hand drifted to his head. “I- yes. Do you like it? I mean, what were you doing in my room? I mean.” he took a deep breath. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Soren said. Corvus looked him over.

“You changed your armor.”

“Oh, yeah.” Soren looked down at the new design. “Is it… bad?”

“You look good.” Corvus said.

Soren grinned. “I wasn’t asking about me, I was asking about the armor. Of course I look good.”

Corvus rolled his eyes, letting out a breathy laugh. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“What’s the saying? Don’t break it and you won’t need to fix it?”

“Don’t fix what isn’t broken.” Corvus corrected him. His eyes flicked between Soren and the door to his room. “But, uh, what were you doing in my room?”

“What are you doing back?” Soren asked instead.

“I…” Corvus trailed off. “I forgot my scarf.”

“Well.” Soren opened the door and gestured for Corvus to enter. “That’s what I was doing in your room.”

Corvus crossed to the bed and picked up the little parcel. Inside, neatly folded and with his crowguard badge resting on top, was the scarf.

“I figured, if you ever came back, you might need it.” Soren said, suddenly self conscious.

“If I ever came back.” Corvus repeated.

“Yeah.”

He draped the scarf back around his neck, hesitating before picking the pin back up from where he’d placed it off to the side. “So this is still mine, huh?”

“I mean… it was always yours. If you want it.”

Corvus affixed it to his armor before turning back to face him.

“So, what happened to being a tree guy?” Soren asked, smiling.

“Even a tree needs to put down roots. Especially a tree.”

“It’s nice to have you back.”

“Did you really think I could stay away?”

Suddenly Soren had some idea of why, almost a year ago, Corvus had covered his face and left without saying goodbye. So he just hid the bright red tint to his cheeks by giving Corvus a hug,

Corvus hugged him back. He was better at it this time.

#sorvusweek2024 #sorvus fic #tdp #the dragon prince #soren fic #corvus fic #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga #sorvus nation #sorvus forever #soren tdp #corvus tdp #sorvus #drabble #oneshot #my fic #fandom event

21 notes · View notes

nr1chaedickrider · 11 months ago

Text

And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid like - i love you.

Tzuyu never thought that a walk in the snow could turn into talking with the nerdy pianist of the school band.

Love is a strong feeling.

It can do you good,

It can hurt you.

So is hate.

Two strong feelings that can affect you, that change how you talk to a person, how you think about them, how you feel about them.

For Tzuyu, however, these feelings are too strong.

She tries to ignore them.

Emphasize, she tries.

Desperately, she places her brush on a small table next to her.

She doesn't like what she has drawn on her canvas.

And it's not because it looks bad, no, Tzuyu would say of herself that she's actually pretty good at it, there's always someone to compliment her on her work.

It's more that the drawing looks too much like that one girl.

Better said, Dahyun.

Very talented, loves music and plays in the school band. Tzuyu has English and art with her.

Tzuyu is also in love.

Whether you can even call it being in love is the question.

Tzuyu would probably never say "I love dahyun" because she thinks it's stupid.

They are friends, have met up several times, sit next to each other in English and Art classes.

But for Tzuyu, it's one-sided love - because Dahyun would definitely not love the quiet girl who isn't good at anything except art.

Tzuyu lets out a sigh and looks beside her, out of the window.

The streets full of snow, the sky dark blue, a few lanterns illuminating everything.

She decides to go out, maybe it will help her get inspired to draw something.

Something that has nothing to do with Dahyun?

She puts on her coat, a scarf around her neck.

She turns off all the lights before closing the door and going out.

Every time she takes a step in the rather deep snow there is a muffled sound, somehow annoying but somehow also so pleasant.

Sometimes an old couple walks past her, or people walking their dog.

And Tzuyu thinks about how all these people have their own lives, how interesting it actually is.

And as she walks on, she hears a voice calling out to her.

At first she thinks it's her mother nagging her for dressing too thinly for such cold weather.

But when she turns around and looks at who has actually called her,

she is standing right in front of Dahyun.

She has a smile on her lips, and just like Tzuyu, she's also wearing a coat and a scarf (which is actually too big for her, but Tzuyu thinks it's cute).

"Oh, Dahyun," Tzuyu replies with a smile.

She hopes the smile doesn't look too fake, because she wasn't planning to meet Dahyun during the walk, when she actually wanted to let all the things disappear from her mind in peace.

If you want to be a little more extreme, Dahyun is actually the reason why Tzuyu is out here at all, even though she could be at home, in the warmth, alone.

"What are you doing here?" Tzuyu asks as the two start walking side by side, because she knows that Dahyun lives much further away, she knows that Dahyun has a small park pretty much next to her, so why is she right here?

"Honestly, I have no idea. I'm looking for inspiration for a song, a project in my music class, and I was thinking I need to go somewhere, somewhere I don't go often, for new thoughts" she says with a small smile, "and you?" she asks.

Tzuyu ponders a little, thinking about how she should phrase it.

Because somehow Dahyun has the same motive as her.

Only with slight differences.

"I wanted to draw, but I couldn't concentrate," answers Tzuyu.

It's not actually a lie.

But Tzuyu prefers to leave out some details.

"It looks like we're here for the same reasons," says Dahyun and laughs a little.

Tzuyu would like to turn around right now and find an excuse why she supposedly has to leave.

Because she doesn't want to make pointless small talk, she doesn't want to hear Dahyun's laughter, which only makes her fall in love with her even more.

As the two walk on, Dahyun stops in front of a frozen lake.

Tzuyu looks at the lake first, it's beautiful, something she could draw.

But she is quickly distracted by Dahyun, she looks at her, examining her side profile.

And when Dahyun suddenly looks at her, she blushes, quickly looks back at the lake and hopes that Dahyun doesn't think too much about it.

What happens inside Tzuyu is that she says the next sentences, that she dares to say something she was senselessly afraid of.

"I like you"

Tzuyu says, her eyes focused only on the lake, she's too scared to look at Dahyun.

"I like you too, of course" Dahyun replies, but she's immediately confused when Tzuyu lets out a laugh.

"Not the way you think" Tzuyu says, and Dahyun looks at her, a thousand questions in her head.

Tzuyu is still looking at the lake.

"I love you" says Tzuyu.

It's silent, except for the breathing of the two of them and Tzuyu's words, it's completely silent.

This scene is like a cliché, like in those high school movies, Tzuyu thinks to herself.

And maybe she also hopes that it ends like in a high school movie - that Dahyun loves her too.

Dahyun doesn't answer, but just lets Tzuyu talk.

"I.. I don't know how it happened, but I hate it. Maybe I should hate you because you're good at everything, because you're somehow so perfect.... But somehow..." Tzuyu starts to say, her eyes full of tears, gaze still fixed on the water in front of her.

"I'm sorry" she says.

"I never wanted this" she adds.

"So please, just stop giving me hope, don't go for a walk here, do it at your place..." she says.

Dahyun feels like she has even heard a sob.

She looks at Tzuyu.

And maybe it's stupid what she wants to do, but Dahyun couldn't care less.

"Tzuyu," she says, but she doesn't respond.

"Tzuyu look at me" she says, and this time she responds, she turns to Dahyun and looks at her, a tear running down her cheek.

Dahyun stretches out her hand and Tzuyu feels like she's about to get a slap in the face for being so stupid, for having feelings for Dahyun.

But no.

Dahyun runs her thumb over Tzuyu's cheek, wiping away her tear.

Tzuyu looks at her in confusion.

"You're stupid," says Dahyun.

Dahyun stands on her tiptoes and comes closer, her lips landing on Tzuyu's.

Dahyun's lips on Tzuyu's?

And before it can come to anything more - Dahyun pulls back, goes back to her actual size.

Tzuyu looks at her, confused.

"I'll see you on Monday," Dahyun says and walks away.

Tzuyu doesn't move, she thinks over everything that has happened in the last few minutes.

And before she can somehow, finally, react, Dahyun is already out of sight.

The sunrise looks beautiful.

Usually people stay awake to watch the sunset, but Tzuyu always preferred the sunrise.

She doesn't know why.

She looks at her canvas, and this time it is not a person who is painted on it.

On the canvas you can see a frozen lake.

Something that to other eyes only shows beautiful nature is much more to Tzuyu.

At the bottom, in a small corner, she paints a little heart.

And she smiles, because this time it has something to do with Dahyun, and this time she wanted it that way.

Dahyun has inspired her to do something that Tzuyu should have done a long time ago.

Her thoughts are interrupted when she hears her cell phone ring twice.

'Two new messages:

Dahyun:

Tell me what you think,

*audio file attached*'

Tzuyu blinks once, then twice, and then a third time to see if it's really true.

The title of the audio file is what shocks Tzuyu, something that gives her a tingle in her stomach.

'Frozen Lake - A love song'

Tzuyu picks up her cell phone and lies down on her bed, cell phone beside her as she turns the volume all the way up and listens to the audio file.

The melody played by the piano, something that immediately reminds you of winter.

Tzuyu feels herself smiling like an idiot.

Dahyun sings softly, gently, and yet so pleasantly.

Words about love, about a sudden confession.

And when it's finished, Tzuyu picks up her cell phone and writes -

'So I inspired you?'

'Always.' replies Dahyun.

Tzuyu smiles as she stares at the messages.

Suddenly, however, Dahyun's words come back to her.

"See you on Monday"

And Tzuyu suddenly realizes,

Monday is a public holiday.

102 notes · View notes

themusedump · 6 months ago

Text

The Horror And The Wild - a sentence meme from The Amazing Devil's 2020 album The Horror And The Wild. Feel free to adjust as needed!

The Rockrose And The Thistle

"I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone."

"I've run out of my words, my song."

"Just let me die."

"I could try to calm you down but I know you won't."

"And you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop 'cause it's all that I have left. "

"I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

The Horror And The Wild

"They said it all comes down to you."

"You are that space that's in between every page, every chord and every screen."

"You are the driftwood and the rift, you're the words that I promise I don't mean."

"We're drunk but drinking."

"They thought us blind."

"Remember me I ask, remember me I sing."

"Give me back my heart you wingless thing."

"Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring."

"You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child."

"I steal the hours and turn the night into day."

"How bold I was, could be - will be - still am, by God still am."

"Remember me I ask."

Wild Blue Yonder

"Without you, I'm stronger."

"How wrong you were."

"You told me I was younger, that I was filled with wonder."

"For you. I would have gone so much blonder."

"So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off."

"Get a grip, we're grownups."

"Let's wander, till the fuckers demand an encore."

"So hold me, lover, like you used to."

"Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view."

"I surrender what was, what could have been."

"Every brick you hurled, I'll use to build this world."

"I'd bruise you."

Welly Boots

"A storm is coming on."

"What do you mean you've lost your scarlet welly boots?"

"Do y'know what they cost?"

"Wear a raincoat or it'll soak you to the bone."

"It's just like falling snow, I am above you and I love you."

"Don't you know that I'll be with you all along, as long as you are kind?"

"'Cause when it's cold, I'll wrap my scarf around you."

"Just because I left doesn't mean that I'm not still there."

"I get to watch you grow up now and make me proud."

"Get drunk for me, sing louder than you've sung for me."

"'Cause you were always strong."

"When you were young, you'd kick things just to see if they would fall."

"That girl, she's wrong"

"I'll stick up for you, even though you haven't got a clue."

"You haven't got a fucking clue."

"And I'm so proud of you."

"I'm not alright!"

"You were supposed to be my light and keep me safe against them all!"

"How could you leave me here!?"

"I know you're strong enough to do this on your own."

"I've been so scared."

"You left me here behind, do you not care?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?"

Farewell Wanderlust

"You look like I need a drink."

"And you are?"

"I'm the hardest goodbye that you'll ever have to say."

"I promise you I'll be better."

"I promise you I'll try."

"It's my curse to try and make it right, but by trying make it worse."

"You brought me to this party but you left me here behind."

"So long to the person you begged me to be."

"You gave us such a fright. We'd hate to see your mascara drip into your pint."

"Let's take this outside 'cause we're one and the same."

"Our gods have abandoned us, left us."

"Take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead."

"I promise you I'm not broken."

"I promise you there's more. "

"Goodbye to all my darkness, there's nothing here but light."

"Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night."

"You brought me through this darkness but you left me here behind."

"Now take a good long look at what you've done to me!"

Fair

"It's what my heart just yearns to say in ways that can't be said."

"Today I somehow understand the reason I was born."

"I try so hard to make you laugh at me."

"Oh, darling, please be mine."

"It's not fair how much I love you."

"It's not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I'm actually really fucking cross at you for something."

"How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do."

"I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright."

"I know exactly what I want and it's this life that we've created."

"And if you asked me to, if you asked me, I would lose it all."

"Christ, you'll be the death of me."

"I'll spend my days so close to you 'cause if I'm standing here maybe everyone will think I'm cool."

"Where have you been?"

"It's not fair 'cause you make me ache, you bastard."

"I'll stand here with you."

That Unwanted Animal

"There's a second wind coming."

"You try so loud to love me. I cannot seem to hear."

"Can't you hear that scratching? There's something at the door."

"Be good to me."

"Can't you hear it?"

"What's the time Mr .Wolf?"

Marbles

"You couldn't lie then and you sure as hell can't lie to me now."

"You stole the best years of my life."

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

"If one more guy calls me darling then I swear to you and to God I will murder them all."

"All the bastards applaud when I show that I'm flawed."

"You're not flawed darling, you're just a little under-rehearsed."

"I don't know, but I'm here."

"I've loved you, for a hundred years."

"Certainly fucking feels like it."

"The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour."

"I'm scared of the dark."

"And now, even though you're mad and these memories won't stay. That's okay."

"'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day."

"And I will wait and hope."

Battle Cries

"I'm at the brink, don't laugh."

"And that drink, will it fix all those questions unasked?"

"Who'll save you when you fall?"

"Who died and made you king of it all?"

"Who wins this war?"

"Now the wind feels so warm on the back of my neck."

"Don't be uncouth, be a man."

"Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice?"

"Don't lie with your eyes, you know I despise that look."

"I know that I've been through the wars."

"With you, I could summon the gods and the stars."

"I won't leave without a fight."

"I won't let you turn our last night into this."

#sentence meme #sentence starters #lyrics meme #roleplay meme #inbox meme

24 notes · View notes

whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years ago

Text

The Price of Loving Elvis Presley

Fandom: Elvis Presley, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Tom Jones, Jerry Schilling, Sandy Schilling

Word Count: 2256

Rating: Mature

Summary: The whole town is talking, they're callin' you a fool, for listening to his same old lies.

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Love, Implied Cheating, Implied Sex, Cold Shoulder, Arguing, Angst, Fluff, Tom Jones, Vegas Residency, Tom and Elvis, Las Vegas, Reader’s Outfit , It Hurts Me // Elvis Presley

Notes: Hope you like it! I also love the irony that Elvis sings ‘It Hurts Me’ like he isn’t it to a T.

Elvis Tags: @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996 @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters

Request by @elvispresleyxoxo - that’s ok , please could it be elvis and reader are making love and elvis calls reader a costar or another girls name she blows up and basically just gets angry doesn’t speak to him for days does stuff to make him jealous but eventually forgives him xx

I could hear him. He was pacing just outside the door no doubt building up the courage to come inside. Or rather wondering what reaction he was going to receive. I had to admit I’d given myself whiplash with the number of emotions I’d been feeling since yesterday. Not that it wasn’t justified. A couple of days ago my moods had been just peachy. Elvis was finally going to be done with his most recent stint in Vegas and had flown me and some of the girls out to meet them. He’d been happy to be almost finished with it which in turn had meant everyone had been in a great mood and he’d been particularly thrilled for us to be reunited.

Or so I thought.

We’d made it one night. In between shows he’d been all over me like a rash which I had missed. I’d even been the one to suggest we head back to the room right after his midnight show was over as our actions were getting all the more amorous. We’d barely made it back to the room before we were all over one another.

Then it happened.

She happened.

In my arms he had called out the name of another woman. Safe to say the mood was well and truly ruined. He had tried to shrug it off as though I had misheard him but that had only angered me. Our loving reunion devolved into screaming and crying (mostly mine) and eventually petered out to us spending the night apart.

That was where I was now, where I had spent the majority of the day. Away from him. My anger hadn’t subsided but I didn’t have the strength in me to argue and since he never wanted to admit he was in the wrong all communication had stopped. Until now.

I’d seen him of course. It never failed to surprise me how the man who could avoid anyone he wanted suddenly popped up whenever I was mad at him. He had made an appearance at breakfast, something that almost never happened as he preferred to rise well after noon. And then whilst I had been enjoying an afternoon with the girls by the pool he had chosen to go for an afternoon dip, his gaze falling on me at the end of every length he did, not that I took him on much.

Now he was pacing outside my door. Well, the door of my friend Sandy who had been kind enough to let me crash with her for the night since I didn’t want to go back to the suite. As I waited for the knock I blotted my lipstick, realigned my cleavage in my dress and ran my fingers through my hair to make it fall just right.

Then it came.

‘Come in,’ I said refusing to get up and let him in. As the door unlatched I busied myself with tidying away the makeup laid on the table in front of me not even looking up as he entered the room. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat forcing me to look at him.

He looked gorgeous. He was wearing a crisp high collared suit with a white scarf that contrasted his tanned skin perfectly. In the low lamplight, his blue eyes looked electric and his supple lips looked like they needed to be kissed. Any other time I would’ve done so.

‘Hey,’ he said as I stood up and grabbed my purse off the bed, ‘wow, you looked stunning.’ ‘Thanks,’ I said with a sarcastic smile that made his fade as he realised it wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought to win me round. ‘Uh, I came to see if you’re coming to dinner…I wasn’t sure,’ he said rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Of course I am,’ I said tucking my clutch under my arm, ‘you got a problem with that?’ ‘Of course not,’ he said hurriedly. I nodded and moved past to stand by the door leaving him watching me with a confused look on his face. ‘Are we going or not?’ I asked. He nodded and rushed into action, opening the door so I could walk out. Though he led the way I could feel him glancing at me every so often unsure of how to take me.

We’d argued before of course and he was so stubborn I was normally the one to cave first but I wasn’t feeling it this time. Though the indiscretion could be seen as a minor one, well compared to some of the others, it didn’t feel like it. I always suspected other girls. They were part of his lifestyle. But for one of them to make their way into our bed. Our life. It seemed to hurt more than the rumours ever could. So I wasn’t going to let him off the hook easily. If he wanted forgiveness he was going to have to work for it.

We met some of the boys downstairs and headed across town to where we would be spending the evening. As Elvis was shepherded through throngs of fans, signing autographs and having pictures taken, I wandered towards the girls who were congregated waiting to go in, a fact that I knew would annoy him. He liked to have me close by in incidences like this should anything go awry. When we finally walked into the venue he appeared beside me, his large hand grasping mine tightly as he led us to our seats. He didn’t say anything but I smirked to myself at how much I was getting under his skin.

Throughout the show we didn’t talk much. Our booth was made up of just Jerry, Sandy, Elvis and I with the boys and the girls on either side rather than couple by couple. As he chatted to Jerry about how impressed he was by the act I spoke to Sandy in hushed whispers. He was right. The act was quite something, a phenomenal voice and charisma on stage yet that wasn’t what had got me and Sandy giggling like schoolgirls. He was attractive too. Not as much as Elvis but definitely rugged and handsome. Elvis seemed to notice it too, his gaze flitting to the stage as I mocked fanning myself with a napkin to make Sandy laugh. When our eyes met across the table I could see his jaw clench earning a smile from me.

When the set was almost over a stocky gentleman I had never met before appeared leaning over the booth as he spoke, ‘Sorry to bother you, sir.’ ‘It’s no problem,’ Elvis said politely, ‘what’s the matter?’ ‘Nothing’s the matter it’s just that Tom would like to offer his thanks for you attending tonight,’ he said, ‘he’ll be off stage in a minute if you’d like to come backstage and meet him.’ ‘Sure,’ Elvis said but as he glanced across the table and noted my excited expression the clenched jaw returned, ‘you girls wait here okay?’ ‘ ‘Oh no they can come if they want,’ the man said, ‘Tom won’t mind.’ ‘Yeah baby,’ I said grabbing my purse off the table as I feigned the most innocent expression I could muster, ‘unless you have a problem with me and Sandy coming?’

He glanced at Sandy and then Jerry before his gaze landed back on me. Not only did he hate having to jump through hoops for forgiveness he hated fighting in front of other people. If he agreed he’d be conceding to jump through even more hoops. If he said no he’d be the asshole. He was stuck.

‘Why would I?’ he said with a tight smile. ‘Great,’ I said, ‘then let’s go meet Tom Jones.’

✵✵✵

The night was almost over and though I had enjoyed myself I still wasn’t happy. From the moment we had landed in Tom’s dressing room, Elvis had shifted into entertainer mode. He and Tom had had pictures together and spent ages talking about performing and how they admired each other as entertainers. We’d even headed to dinner with Tom and some of his entourage. And to anyone else, we seemed like a perfect couple.

He was so good at pretending everything was normal I had even started to doubt myself. Was I being unfair? Was I overreacting? It was one measly name. And after all, I had spent the night flirting with Tom freaking Jones to try and get a rise out of him and nothing. Maybe it was time to give up the ghost. Wave the white flag.

I had excused myself to the bathroom, not bothering to ask Sandy to come as she was too enamoured with Tom to leave. Once I was done I gave myself a once over in the mirror and tried to plaster a smile on my face though the feeling of futility never left me. It looked convincing enough though, so I exited the bathroom with every intention of heading back to the private function room we had been in though my path was blocked as Elvis appeared the minute I stepped out of the ladies, grabbing my arm as he steered away from peering eyes towards the end of the corridor.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked, wrenching my arm from his grasp though it was pretty fruitless. I was trapped between him and the wall, I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to. That thought was also made clear as I peered around his shoulder and found a couple of the guys blocking this end of the corridor off. Instead, I watched his flaming blue eyes look down on me. ‘Conceding,’ he said with a small smile. ‘What?’ I asked incredulously as he pulled back, his hands going to my waist. ‘You win,’ he said. ‘Oh I do, do I?’ I asked folding my arms across my chest, ‘and what exactly am I supposed to be winning Elvis?’ ‘Me, admitting I was in the wrong,’ he said unfazed by my coolness as he moved a strand of hair off my face. My resolve crumbled a fraction as he smiled down at me. Only he could admit to his shortcomings and still seem so attractive. ‘You realised that huh?’ I said scrambling to keep the upper hand though it was slipping through my fingers by the second. ‘I knew from the moment I did it,’ he admitted. ‘And yet it took you a day to admit it,’ I grumbled pulling away from him to lean against the wall. Elvis stroked his chin with his thumb as he watched me.

‘Don’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed putting me through the wringer Mama,’ he said. I tried to protest but he raised an eyebrow, ‘the dress, the cleavage, the fawning over Tom.’ ‘He is Tom Jones,’ I said cockily. ‘Are you telling me you’d have paid him half as much attention if we hadn’t been fighting?’ ‘Maybe,’ I said feeling my cockiness crumble, ‘okay probably not and anyway it’s not like you even noticed.’ ‘What because I didn’t whip out my pistol and shoot him? Baby I noticed every time you looked at the goddamn man,’ he said pulling me to him, ‘the way you put your hand on his knee, the way you laughed at all his jokes.’ ‘Didn’t call out his name in bed though, did I?’ I said. It was a last-ditch attempt at winning and we both knew it. Though the way he sighed made me feel as though it had had some impact.

‘No, you didn’t,’ he said finally meeting my eyes, ‘but like I said. I’m conceding. You were right to be angry…I’m sorry.’ ‘Why didn’t you just admit then and there?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know. Stubbornness? I didn’t want to ruin our night…I’d just got you back.’ ‘It ruined it anyway,’ I grumbled. ‘I know,’ he said placing his hand on my neck as his thumb stroked gently across my jawline. ‘You really hurt me E,’ I admitted feeling whatever resolve I had well and truly disappeared when I heard the vulnerability in my voice. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I do well…that’s why seeing you with him like that hurts so much.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What if you realise you wanna be with someone like him? I couldn’t blame you for that.’ ‘But I don’t love him,’ I said, ‘I love you.’ ‘Foolish really,’ he said with a sad smile. ‘Probably,’ I agreed placing my hands around the scarf he was wearing so I could pull him towards me. ‘What if I can’t stop hurtin’ ya,’ he murmured sadly. ‘If that’s the price of loving you I’ll pay it.’ ‘I’m lucky you still do,’ he said.

He leant down, brushing his lips against mine for just a moment before pulling back. He was right. It probably was foolish of me to love him given all the hurt he put me through and yet I couldn’t stop. Even if I had to put him through a couple of hoops before I could forgive him I never stopped loving him. I would never be able to stop because the price of loving him didn’t take away the fact that to be loved by him meant everything. And that was something I couldn’t lose.

#my writing #request #requested fic #the price of loving elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x female reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fic

106 notes · View notes

ms-nesbit · 1 year ago

Text

moulin rouge (chapter 2 of empire records)

a jason todd x reader fic

summary: reader and jason embark on their second date at the Gotham Library, where Jason indulges reader on a secret.

rating: 18+ (minors kindly fuck off)

warnings: masturbation, sex worker!jason todd, cam model!jason todd, reader is plus/mid size

ao3

note: please support by reblogging, and don't be a dick by reposting elsewhere! thank you so much!

Whistling wind carrying Jason’s loose strands of hair to and fro on his head, mimicking a wind vane atop a tall barn, he strolled peacefully toward the brick building’s double doors, pulling them wide open (without the assistance of the turbulence - wretched equinox) before entering.

Jason was no stranger to the library, and he nodded to the librarians at the circulation desk, who (uncharacteristically) stopped to all wave at him; he was a frequent patron, and attended whatever event he was able. “High noon, Fred!” he beamed at the security guard upon passing through the theft-deterrents that failed to draw up to Jason’s figure, making it to his torso.

Fighting his instinct to tread to the third floor and sit in his unassigned seat near the retired fireplace, Jason planted his steel-toed feet to the ground, second guessing his outfit choice. “Oh, look at you!” A librarian walked by, commenting on Jason’s attire. “Are you going out this evening, Mr. Todd?”

“Just have someone I’m seeing in a few minutes, Luz.” Jason replied, wiping down his mahogany button up. “How ya doin, though?”

Luz stopped her mission to the circulation desk, various media in hand, as she pondered, sticking out one of her mustard flats. “Probably nothing as exciting as what you’ve got going on. Oh, to be young!” she suspired jokingly, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thank you!” From a young age, Jason was taught by his adoptive father’s butler to speak to elders with respect, especially in a formality such as the library. He disagreed with many of his father’s views, eventually leading to the pair having a final quarrel before Jason’s departure from Wayne Manor and into the Gotham flats.

In fact, it was why Jason stumbled into camwork in the first place: he found himself quitting each and every dead-end shift, arguing with the boss or co-workers. Jason was a hothead, escalating otherwise mundane and calm situations simply because he was tired of feeling trapped by others.

Perhaps y/n felt that way, too. Even if she hadn’t, it seemed she respected his space, something that most close to him refused to do. “Jason?” he responded to the voice behind him like a dog upon his owner’s arrival, tail wagging. When he turned, his eyes laid on y/n, wearing knee-high platform boots, sienna tights underneath an umber A-line skirt decorated with paperclips, a rust-colored top under a leather jacket, and a thick knitted scarf in deep brown.

Y/n was an angel rejected from heaven, bestowed upon Jason, and he could not shake the downright corrupt images that projected in his mind. “Wow.” he said, hiding the other words under his tongue for later.

Y/n checked him out unabashedly, licking her lips. “I could say the same, Jaybird. What do you wanna do here? Read me a bedtime story?” she wiggled her eyebrows comically, triggering a blush from the tall man before her.

“Well, you chose somewhere you go to often, so now it’s my turn. May I?” Jason extended his elbow for y/n to take, and led them to the elevator, where Jason punched the Four that was missing its vowels on the button.

If it wasn’t for the guidelines previously set, y/n would have jumped his bones in the elevator, ignoring the security cameras that would have recorded the uncensored evidence. “So you come here often?” the sentence was worded deliberately, a juxtaposition to her compassionate voice.

“I have since I was little. Helped a lot to just disappear in a story, as much as it sounds like a line for a goddamn Hallmark greeting card.” Jason rolled his eyes at himself.

“What did you read?”

The elevator dinged and doors opened, gesturing for y/n and Jason to vacate the confined space. Jason led y/n past the rows of encyclopedias and historical archives and into a crossroads of shelves divided by a set of armchairs. He walked at a sharp angle with y/n, leading her away from the world and into his nook, where his lounge chair waited for him.

And there it was, in front of the decommissioned fireplace. Jason pulled out the other chair for y/n, which she sat in, before pushing it lightly and sitting in the one adjacent to hers. Immediately, as if at home, he reclined and shut his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Y/n watched closely as he made himself comfortable. His lips parted and adam’s apple bobbed, reminding her of the videos she stared at the night before, Jason’s hand slowly stroking his cock, head thrown back, letting out guttural, obscene noises. Y/n shifted uncomfortably in her seat, moisture collecting in her underwear.

“When I was a kid, I thought librarians lived here.”

The confession came out of nowhere, and it drew a chuckle from y/n. “Like with teachers?”

Jason nodded. “Yep. And I, for some fucking reason, built this fort in the corner by the fire exit. I remember my dad and Alfred looking for me for hours, even calling the police because they thought I ran away again.” he smiled, eyes still closed, and it warmed y/n’s bosom. “One officer came right by me and put out his hand for me to take, and I was freaking out, y’know? ‘Cause fuck cops, right?” Y/n nodded in solidarity. “And I bit his hand. I bit it.”

Y/n erupted into laughter, which was quickly hushed by Jason. “No fucking way.”

“Way.” Jason’s eyes shot open and looked directly at y/n with as much seriousness as he could. “And he cussed and swore, saying ‘fuck’ this and ‘fuck’ that, and it was the funniest shit I went through. Though at the time I was scared shitless because I just wanted to stay and sleep in the librarians’ home and see what they did after the library closed.”

Y/n gazed at Jason. She swore she heard a harp playing. “That is so dorky, but so…fucking romantic.” The response caused Jason to grin at y/n shyly, smile lines forming on his cheeks. “What happened?”

“Al‒my butler‒found me and talked me down from it. A couple of weeks later, he spoke with the district director, and they arranged for me to have a sleepover.”

“And?”

Jason took y/n’s hand in hers, bringing it to his lips to place a small kiss on the underside of her hand. “I pissed my pants in the sleeping comforter.”

Falling forward, y/n laughed silently, wheezes and snorts disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. She couldn’t contain herself, and why should she? Jason adored how pleasantly she felt in her skin, and it showed in that moment: her bright smile, full cheeks, broad hips wiggling in her seat…she’s an open book, and it inspired him to do the same.

But he hesitated. It was the battle he faced, him and his fears: he didn’t want to repeat the past, spend another week isolated and hiding from the sun in an attempt to starve and deprive himself from sanity. Jason knew he was attractive - his followers and bank account reflected it - but he was used for it. Misled, and then taken advantage of, and for what? Momentary bliss? Clout?

A cloud formed over his head as he began to swim in the pool of decrepit thoughts that gathered in him. Why was he used? Why wasn’t he enough? Would y/n treat him the same way? Paranoia was his kryptonite, but it was hardwired in him from his early childhood years spent in the streets, abused by his biological parents.

Y/n saw the gloominess ruminating on the tall man beside her, and she halted her laughter, cupping his chin with her hand. Jason felt the touch, skin burning hot, as he faced her. “I once was jealous of Ally Snow, the horse girl of our fourth grade class, so I accidentally committed arson to her camp bunk site.”

Jason’s jaw dropped, skies in his mind clearing before a funnel cloud could form. “Arson?!”

“Mmhmm.” Y/m hummed. “I was lucky that: a) Ally’s camp counselor bailed that night, because I may have miscalculated and lit fire to the counselor’s bunk, and b) nobody found the culprit.” her eyes may have been the blaze of fire itself with the way she glared at the ground in immense passion.

Jason patted her hand, her nails now clawing at his cheek. He temporarily thought of her nails digging into his back while he… he blinked away the thought. “So you weren’t caught?”

Y/n shook her head. “And I got to watch my best friend, Yessica, punch her in the fucking face the following fall.”

They sat in their chairs, alighting the fireplace with their embarrassing stories, taking turns laughing and poking fun at each other. Before they realized, the library announced its closing time soon, and they gathered themselves, exiting the library in a fit of giggles. The librarians at the circulations saw this, and exchanged knowing looks, telling without words being spoken.

“Can I see you again soon?” it was y/n’s turn to ask when they stepped down from the platform of the library.

Jason stepped forward, closing the gap between them as he pulled her into a kiss, their lips locking instantly. “Anytime.” he grinned when he pulled away, their faces mere inches from each other.

—-

One notification.

Y/n checked her phone as she closed her loft door, tossing her keys on the kitchen table nearby. Do you want to do something specific for our next date? Food? Entertainment? Guns? Riots?

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes at the question. I’m down to clown at a riot. Maybe a clown riot? Dunno how that would go though.

A reply appeared. Fuck clowns. I’d rather be dead than be seen with one. How about a cemetery for our next date? Picnic?

Abso-fucking-lutely. y/n agreed, her heart fluttering at the idea of a moonlit picnic at the Gotham cemetery. She spun as she held her phone close to her chest, before another notification appeared.

Robin Hood is now live! Tap to check in now.

Thoughtlessly, y/n tapped the badge on her phone, opening an app she downloaded a few days ago to streamline Jason’s webcam streams.

The stream began in a dimly lit room with tools hung on the wall in the background. Y/n squinted at the array of tools, recognizing the brand. “You gonna make me beg, Baby? Make me beg to come? Hmm?” the words shook y/n, no longer distracted by the Craft tool kit hanging neatly on the wall, and eyes fixating on the tall brunette stripping himself from his button up and slacks.

Y/n watched closely, so closely, she worried, she didn’t blink - she soaked in the sight of Jason’s fingers finagling with his own clothes, revealing himself to her in an intimate way as he spoke so titillatingly. For a man with an intimidating figure, he was so submissive, and y/n wanted to explore it as much as he allowed.

Right now, it was about him though, and Jason was already stripped from his slacks, which gathered by his ankles on the ground, his shirt unbuttoned, but still worn. “Come on, Princess. Make me come, please.” the begs were earlier than last time, and y/n hoped she was the source, listening with open ears for her name to be called, chanted so beautifully like last time.

He didn’t stroke his cock this time, either; he thrusted into it, head tilted back to expose his neck, the adam’s apple bobbing again. He donned a flushed face that was so euphoric, y/n wished he could open his eyes so she could swim in his glossed over irises. “‘M gonna come, fuck.” his breath wavered, thrusts methodical but ruthless.

It was obvious he wanted y/n, and the feeling was mutual, y/n resisting the urge to touch herself until after she saw him reach his breaking point. And it was soon. “G-god,” he whispered shakily, “y/n” he was louder with the name, calling to her as if she was watching, “please let me come.” the words carried so much weight, so heavy as they fell into y/n’s ears, as if he wanted her to tell him to come.

And she opened up the chat, which was flooded with comments about the ‘mystery girl’ Jason was thinking about, or sexual compliments that made her blush. Wanting the command to be more intimate, she opted for a text message instead: come for me, Jason. Let me see you come.

His phone chimed and he read the notification, his hips increasing with speed. “You like seeing my cock like this? Want me to come? I’m gonna come so hard for you.” his grip tightened around his cock as he pistoned his hips, mouth falling open as moans filled the room. “Oh, y/n,” he whined, “yes!” he whimpered, voice unsteady as his hips finally slowed, cum spilling from his cock. His orgasm was powerful, taken from him too soon - yet not soon enough for him - and the sight of his blissed out state was too much for y/n to handle, who rushed to her bed to rub her clit at the thought of him.

63 notes · View notes

lifeontoast · 1 year ago

Text

A Christmas Carol

9th Doctor x reader

SUMMARY: For day 1 of Advent, here’s something for my Whovians… hope you enjoy. 9 and the reader travel back in time for a very Dickensian Christmas…

Trigger warnings: none, I don’t think.

…

That oh-so-familiar thworp of the TARDIS told you that you had arrived. Christmas 1843. The Doctor had chosen it after your previous adventure in the year 5487 - you wouldn’t be going back there in a hurry. He wanted something a bit… calmer for once. Not that he didn't love adventure, of course.

‘Okay, Y/N. It’s the 20th December 1843. Now tell me, what is special about this day?’ he quizzed you.

‘It’s… the day after A Christmas Carol was published!’ you loved that book a lot, and you knew that the Doctor did too. Where he was planning to take you, you couldn’t guess, but you were glad he’d chosen this date for your next little adventure.

‘And change out of those clothes please, you’ll show me up.’ he added with a sarky look in your direction. You rolled your eyes, but made your way to the huge wardrobe in the TARDIS to oblige. He held back a laugh as you left, and hearing this, you couldn’t help but smile. You never knew what you might find in there, it truly was an amalgamation of every type of clothing you could possibly imagine… mini-dresses, togas, suits and ties, and that one really weird fashion trend from the 7140s where everyone wore Scooby Doo onesies. However, you looked past all this to unearth exactly what you needed to find. You see, that was the thing about the TARDIS. She always knew just what you needed. You changed out of the clothes that had offended the Doctor so, and into these new ones. Looking in the mirror, you were pleasantly surprised. Never before had you thought it possible to look so good whilst wearing Victorian clothes. Still, everyday is a school day.

Making your way back to the main console, you found the Doctor wearing exactly the same outfit, except he had changed his jumper. You rolled your eyes, this was so typical of him! Oh well. It was always fun to play dress up with the Doctor, even if he always declined to participate. You’d get him out of that leather jacket one day if it killed you.

You’d brought yourself a scarf from the wardrobe, but decided that he was clearly more in need of it than you were. You walked up to him and carefully put the soft wool around his neck. He feigned annoyance but you could tell he was pleased that you’d been thinking about him again, something he was convinced you did far too much of. He gave you a genuine smile, which you reciprocated gladly.

On the cobbled streets of Victorian London, the snow was falling. Already there was a carpet of white on the stones, and it glowed under the light of the street lamps which lit your way. The sky was steel grey, polluted with the industrial smog of hellish factories lining the roads not far from here. Trying desperately to ignore the lingering, acrid smell of the blacksmiths next to where you had landed, you and the Doctor stepped out smartly, marvelling at every person who walked past. How little they knew of the future, that those factories that were the very lifeblood of the city would soon be nothing but a whisper sometimes talked about in history lessons.

You were confused about your destination, but the Doctor seemed to know where he was going. There was little decoration around the streets or in shop windows, but you remembered that people only started celebrating Christmas again because of A Christmas Carol, and that had only been published the day before. One shop stood out to you though; you saw it on the corner just ahead. It was decked out, even by modern standards. Golden and scarlet ribbons hung on every surface, and there was even a tree outside. Candles lit up the windows, revealing the large number of customers inside. The Doctor gave you a knowing look, and then you realised. That was your destination.

Inside the shop, there were what felt like thousands of people milling about everywhere, books in hand. Even though the shop was actually quite large, there was hardly room to breathe. However, no history lesson could have prepared you for what, or rather who, you were about to see. Coming into the main area of the shop, you saw Charles Dickens, sat at a table, talking to a lady in the most fabulous hat you’d ever seen. You felt your jaw drop in shock, whilst the Doctor just looked at you, laughing to himself. You turned to him and smiled. He was so clever, and he very well knew it.

He made his way to the front of the queue, much to the chagrin of everyone else, and proudly introduced you to Dickens. Apparently, Dickens and the Doctor were “very dear friends”! Well, trust him to hide a secret like that from you. A book had somehow found its way into your hands, and you gave it to Dickens to sign. He wrote this message inside it:

Dear Y/N,

Any friend of the Doctor is a friend of mine! I do hope you enjoy my little book.

Charles Dickens, Christmas 1843

You couldn’t believe it. A first edition of A Christmas Carol, signed by Charles Dickens? Now that was something you’d treasure forever.

Outside the bookshop, it has just started to snow. As the delicate flakes flew down from the sky, the Doctor offered you his arm, and you slowly wound your way down the cobbled street, amazed at all that was happening around you. You had a tremendous sense of foreboding, feeling satisfied that these people would very soon be rediscovering the joy of Christmas, and you were so glad to be able to share it with the Doctor.

This would be an adventure you wouldn’t forget any time soon.

…

Hope you enjoyed :)

#lifeontoast #doctor who #9th doctor #9 x reader #christopher eccleston

23 notes · View notes

eolewyn1010 · 20 days ago

Text

Downton Abbey Fashion 55 - outdoors fashion in 1924

This post goes largely to Rose, but we’ll start off with a look at a few *le gasp* middle-class women.

Starting with the one whose romantic farewell was “I wish you’d never even met your wife whom you loved so much; I can’t believe you expect me to treat your family with basic manners.” Fellowes’ writing has really gone down the drain. But let’s look at the new color palette of the worst communist character ever written. She goes from pastels last season to jewel tones in this, and from owning multiple coats but limited hats to always the same coat but with a new hat every time we see her. The coat is a nice shade of blue, and I love the scarf she wears in the second picture. Funnily, she has a new little pin on her lapel each time.

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

Over to Diana Clark. She’s only around for one scene and a half, but the dress she wears is quite pretty, the blue and white matching nicely, the flower print giving this a little whimsy. Why is this quiet, kind woman who wears flowered fabrics the mistress of a rough, loud dipshit like Lord Sinderby? I hope she gets out of that situation. Or shacks up with Lady Sinderby instead. But look at the point where her white sleeves cut off over the blue cuffs: The cut edge is lining up with the print. This is so adorable.

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

Up the food chain, over to Rose. Look, she has a lovely coat almost the exact same shade as one of Edith’s. And this one has a sweet, sweet design that’s got me captured: Both the lower part of the coat itself and of the sleeves is all box pleats. This is honestly so nice. Also, the dress she wears under the coat in the second picture, the sky blue one with the flower garland? That’s Edith’s later on in the season. I don’t know why Rose wears it here.

Does Rose always move like she’s on a cat walk? Girl, you’re just going down the street; stop posing. Very nice outfit though! The skirt and jacket have a nice color contrast, and the jacket itself has as much tailoring as the 1920s would allow, the shoulder section sitting all nice and snug. It also comes with a matching scarf and a hat that, while black, does at least have a flower on it.

A rust-colored velvet coat, I think this is what Rose wears when she meets Atticus for the first time. The coat is not much beyond lapels, but Rose has paired it with the most adorable hat with flowers in various shades from peach to coral to chestnut. And, well, she’s Rose, so how could he not be smitten?

Sometimes, I’m sitting here burrowing through my vocabulary to name a color. Is this light brown? Leaning towards coral? Puce? What an ugly name for a nice shade. Rose wears this to a riding tournament if I remember correctly, and among all the other spectators mainly wearing shades of brown and grey, she looks the pinkest. The hats are a tie for me; I like she color and the brim of the second better, but the first has this adorable red-leaves-on-a-cream-ribbon decoration.

Hat is back, coat is exchanged for something… beiger? It’s fine, I guess. It has this scalloped collar design which is neat, and Rose wears it over a very colorful dress that I’ll have a chance to discuss on its own later. Also, Rose’s netting gloves are blue. Can’t say I’ve seen that before. Most I know are either black, white, or beige.

Rose, why on earth are you making a duck face? Were pouty lips even in the 1920s beauty standard? Okay; whatever, let’s talk about Rose’s honeymoon travel outfit. The hat is cute, the coat is simply-cut but has a lovely blue shade and a mass of white curlicues I love. And the dress. I want this dress. The crocheted neckline? The fringe on the back and the hem? The light, summery linen? This dress is a thing of beauty.

#Downton Abbey #historical fashion #Downton Abbey's costume fund

5 notes · View notes

ravendruid · 10 months ago

Text

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 29

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Happy belated Valentine's day <3 (I promise I didn't plan this!) Summary: Time to dress up for Keyleth's date with Vax.

The week rushed by like rapids, especially when, on Miresen morning, every single one of Keyleth’s teachers reminded their classes that the clock announcing finals had officially begun ticking. One month. Keyleth had one month to prepare for what she assumed would be the worst week of her college life. She could only hope her teachers took pity on the first years. By that evening, Keyleth had a meticulously developed study schedule, color-coded by class, to help her organize her time. Would she be able to keep up with it, though? She had to. The last thing she wanted was to fail a class and have to repeat it next year. She decided to try out the schedule that week, rotating between the library and the quiet apartment and inviting her roommates to study with her—which Vax’ildan almost always gladly accepted.

The exception happened in the middle of the week. Although the holiday itself wasn’t widely celebrated in Emon, the Night of Ascension was still a holiday for those who celebrated, so the University had given them the day off classes. That day, Keyleth, Percy and Pike decided to occupy a table at their favorite café, staving off the snow that fell outside with steaming cups of hot cocoa. She had asked the twins to join them, but Vax had explained to Keyleth, alone in his bedroom as he bundled up with the hoodie Keyleth loved so much and a thick woolen scarf that had seen better days, that he and Vex’ahlia had a tradition to pay homage to their mother during the holiday, so they would be going to the nearest temple to make an offering, and then go out for a meal and celebrate their memories of Elaina (Vax had finally shared his mother’s name with her). Keyleth pondered asking to join them and do the same for her mother, but she figured that it was something the twins preferred to stay between just them. Besides, neither she nor her mother were particularly given to deities.

But the week rushed by nonetheless, and on Folsen evening, when Keyleth opened the fridge and saw a container with freshly made soup and a sticky note from Vax (I hope this helps you stay warm), the girl was ready to put on a pair of fuzzy socks, her warmest pajama and curl into a ball on the armchair and read until her eyelids drooped. Alas, her dream was interrupted by footsteps walking down the corridor as Keyleth removed the steaming bowl from the microwave.

“Oh. Hi Kiki,” Vax greeted. He was wearing a new long-sleeve pajama shirt (black, as usual), a pair of black sweatpants, and his hair was braided away from his face—it was about time that he heed not only Vex’s but also Keyleth’s advice about braiding his hair before bed.

“Hi, Vax. Thank you for the soup,” Keyleth nodded in gratitude. She sat at the kitchen table and started to eat. Vax joined her, sitting on the chair in front of hers, elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“How were classes?”

“Exhausting.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Vax asked smugly. Keylth looked at him confused, then remembered they were going out… on a date. “Please don’t tell me you forgot about our date?” Vax asked, outraged, seeing the look of realization on her face.

“No... I—I’m sorry.” Keyleth apologized, embarrassed. Vax merely laughed and shook his head. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh. What should I wear?” Keyleth asked, trying to get any possible clue from him.

“Something comfortable and warm.” The answer didn’t reveal anything substantial.

“What time are we leaving?” Keyleth tried another route.

“Do you think eight is too early?” Keyleth shook her head. She was used to waking up early, even during the weekends, so it wouldn’t make a difference in her schedule. “Then, we need to leave the apartment at 8:30.”

“Why so early?” Keyleth asked, finishing her soup.

“It’s a bit far and we need to take transportation. It’s going to be a whole day thing, so you might want to clear your schedule.”

Somewhere so far away that they needed to take an early transportation, that would last the entire day, and that she needed to bring warm, comfortable clothes? Where the hell was Vax taking her? “Should I bring anything special? Food? Entertainment?” Keyleth pushed further.

“We can make some sandwiches and bring snacks for the day. Water, too. As for entertainment, that’s what I’m there for, right?” Vax winked. Keyleth blushed and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I’m sure you will,” She teased. Vax slapped the table softly and grabbed her empty bowl. Keyleth got to her feet, wanting to stop him, but he waved his hand at her in dismissal and washed her dishes for her. Keyleth couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip at how caring Vax was to her. He had made her dinner, kept her company while she ate—even though he looked like he had been ready to go to sleep—and washed her dishes afterward. I don’t deserve someone so good like him.

“You should go to sleep,” Vax said to her, wiping his hands on the towel. He approached Keyleth and kissed her forehead before he turned to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, Kiki,” he said and disappeared towards his bedroom. Keyleth stood in the kitchen, watching Vax walk away. Only when his bedroom door shut behind him did Keyleth release the longing sigh she had been holding and grabbed her bag to head to bed. Keyleth thought she was going to have trouble sleeping due to anxiety, so the faster she went to bed, the sooner she would fall asleep. However, Keyleth wasn’t expecting the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, a sensation that seemed to calm her more than agitate her, so she fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow.

—

By the time Keyleth walked into the kitchen the next morning (her personal backpack open in front of her in preparation to get stuffed with snacks), Vax’ildan was already at the stove, stirring eggs and plopping two slices of bread in the toaster. On the island sat an evidently larger backpack—a camping backpack—seemingly full and ready to go. Keyleth stumbled on her feet, coming to an abrupt stop as she gawked at Vax’s bag, then at hers, so small in her hands. She didn’t have time to say anything because Vax was already smiling at her and greeting her.

“What’s that?” Keyleth asked, all manners forgotten.

“Our stuff for today.”

“That looks—”

“Heavy? Don’t worry. It’s mostly light items. I made a few sandwiches, packed snacks, water and a thermos with peppermint tea.” Vax said nonchalantly, dividing the eggs between two plates. “Don’t worry, I added a lot of honey to the tea,” He added, seeing Keyleth’s stunned face.

Vax set the plates with scrambled eggs and toast on the table and returned to grab two mugs of coffee. Keyleth finally set her backpack down—now completely useless—and sat at the table. They ate in silence, Keyleth avoiding looking at Vax too much, and then she left him to do the dishes while she returned to her bedroom to finish getting dressed.

They left the apartment at exactly 8:30—like Vax had planned—after Keyleth replaced her small backpack for her regular knitted crossbody purse with just her personal belongings. Since the sun was shining bright and warm in the clear, blue sky, Keyleth left her thickest jacket behind in exchange for a crochet cardigan with sunflowers covering a beige high-neck shirt and a crochet dark green skirt. She pondered wearing pants for a moment, but then she found a pair of thick winter tights, and her problem of wanting to look cute and fight off the cold was easily solved. Meanwhile, Vax was–well… Vax (still incredibly hot, as usual, nonetheless). He wore his regular black, ripped pants, leather jacket and boots. The only difference was that he had replaced his band and graphic t-shirt for a seemingly brand new plain black high-neck shirt, so tight that Keyleth had held her breath when she first saw him before he put on and buttoned his jacket.

They took a bus not far from campus, mostly filled with old ladies who gave the pair a weird look—which Keyleth knew was due to her overall sunshine personality, Vax’s dark and broody appearance and the camping backpack he carried—and they sat in the empty back, Vax setting the packed bag between his legs. They stayed in silence for a while, watching the city pass by slowly. People walked on the sidewalks, bundled up in their snow coats and scarves, couples held hands and stopped to watch the shop windows, and children threw balls and built snowmen in the park they passed by, much like what Keyleth and her friends had done a few weeks before, and which, eventually, led to her being in that empty bus, sitting so close to her crush—more than that, actually—that she could practically hear his heart beating in his chest.

“It’s such a nice day,” Keyleth said, more to herself than to him. Vax hummed. His hand found hers on her lap and he took it, intertwining his fingers with hers. Keyleth still looked out the window, now more to try to hide the blush in her cheeks at the gesture. Vax had been so touchy since last weekend… since he shared so much of his life with her. It was like he couldn’t bear to not touch Keyleth, as if her skin on his calmed him. Keyleth wasn’t complaining. She loved every touch, every chill down her spine, every kernel of warmth and softness that emanated from Vax, and she never wanted it to end.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me?” Keyleth asked twenty minutes later when the city landscape outside had given room to large fields and forests. They had officially been out of the city limits for five minutes, and she still didn’t know where Vax was taking her.

“What if it is?” Vax teased, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling mischievously at her.

“Then I regret to inform you that my father will not yield to any ransom requests. Unless you would like a chicken or two in exchange for giving me back.”

Vax snorted and brought her hands to his lips. He kissed each knuckle softly and then said, “I doubt your father wouldn’t give all the money in the world to have you back, Kiki.”

Keyleth wasn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks was because of his gesture of the implication that Vax knew her father loved her so much he would ruin his finances for her.

“Our exit is coming up,” Vax announced, releasing the grasp in her hand and getting to his feet. Keyleth followed him down the aisle, and when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere, where the only sign of it being a bust stop was a single pole with a hanging sign, Vax gestured for Keyleth to descend before him, following her as he shouldered the backpack.

“Now I’m really concerned,” Keyleth said, looking around. They were surrounded by tall trees on a single road with practically no traffic. She had no idea where they were in regards to the city proper, but it was clear they were somewhere remote.

“Do you trust me?” Vax asked, extending his hand to her. Keyleth’s answer was weaving her fingers through his and walking by his side in silence.

During their short walk parallel to the road the bus had taken, Keyleth glanced sideways at Vax, who looked relaxed and smiled so brightly he could supply enough energy for a small town. His mood was contagious, and soon Keyleth found herself relaxing and smiling as well, walking hand-in-hand with him down the sidewalk and then up a smaller road.

“No way,” Keyleth exclaimed as they reached an ornate iron gate connected to rock pillars. Above it, high enough where a tall van could cross without touching it, was an iron sign that said Emon Botanical Gardens. Keyleth couldn’t hold her joy at the sight of it, and neither could Vax, apparently, because he was shaking with excitement at her reaction, grinning brightly at her, eyes shining like ambers.

Keyleth squealed in delight as they approached the portico, where a woman waited at the ticket booth. Vax stepped ahead of her and exchanged a few words with the woman that Keyleth couldn’t hear—although, from the look of it, they were familiar with each other—and then signaled her to the barriers that opened on their own accord.

“What?” Keyleth asked, surprised, crossing it behind Vax.

“Students don’t pay entrance,” Vax explained.

“Do you come here often?” Keyleth asked as he walked towards a large wooden board with the map of the park. She stopped abruptly in front of it, gaping with an open mouth at how large the area was.

“Vex and I came here often when we needed a break from the chaos of the city,” Vax explained, picking a pamphlet from the holder. “It’s really peaceful. Here,” He handed Keyleth the pamphlet. She opened it to see a smaller-scale map of the park on one side and short descriptions of what the park contained on the other side.

“This park is huge. We’re not going to be able to see it all today,” Keyleth pointed out, noting all the smaller flower gardens, the several ponds and fountains, the orchard and forests of different kinds of trees. “There’s a waterfall?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. “And a butterfly garden!” Her excitement turned up a notch if it was even possible. Keyleth loved butterflies.

“Where would you like to start?” Vax asked, smiling at her. Keyleth pointed at the greenhouse not far from there, and he nodded. He let her lead the way, even though he probably knew the garden so well that he didn’t need a map anymore.

The greenhouse spawned over a long distance, covering plants from all regions in Exandria, from flowering cacti of the Marquesian deserts to blooming flowers of the Zemni Fields and even a few darker, mysterious flora from the distant lands of Xhorhas. No matter where Keyleth looked, she was welcomed with fragrant scents, a rainbow of colors, and a whole new universe she wanted to explore until the end of her days. She took several minutes to photograph flowers and plants she had never seen before and write notes on the notebook app on her phone, setting up a mental note to return with her camera and a proper notebook. When Keyleth finally uncoiled from where she had been squatting for ten minutes, photographing and copying information from the small description sign next to a bloom of snowdrops, Vax coughed to get her attention. Keyleth’s head snapped in his direction. She had completely forgotten why and who she was there with, so a blush spread on her cheeks as she apologized to Vax bashfully.

“It’s okay. It’s adorable.” He brushed it off, holding out his hand for her to take. Keyleth grabbed it, looking at Vax inquisitively. “Let’s go. I have a surprise,” Vax said, pulling Keyleth with him.

They exited the greenhouse through a side door onto a gravel path. Keyleth’s excitement built up quickly once she saw the first signs pointing in the direction they were going, saying Butterfly House. She found it weird that the butterfly house would be open in the winter since she hadn’t read anything about it in the pamphlet, but maybe it was climate-controlled so they could have viewings year-round. However, Keyleth’s excitement and hope died a little when their path was closed by a barrier, where a note hung from the middle: “We regret to inform the butterfly house is closed until further notice.”

“Vax, what are you doing?” Keyleth asked as Vax transposed the barrier and held out his hand for her. “It’s closed.”

“I know. Trust me,” Vax said. Keyleth followed him down the last of the gravel path and then onto a smaller side path that led to the back of the building. She had no idea where Vax was taking her, but Keyleth trusted him with her life, so she followed as he squeezed her hand tighter in his grip.

“Hello there,” A man greeted the pair when they turned a corner. Keyleth came to an abrupt stop behind Vax, bumping against his back. Shit, we’re screwed, Keyleth thought, knowing they were trespassing.

“Hey!” Vax greeted the man back. He let go of Keyleth’s hand and dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door she realized the man was holding open. Vax then walked towards the man and hugged him tightly. Keyleth finally took a good look at him. He was smiling kindly at them, crow’s feet around his eyes. He seemed to be in his early forties, perhaps, with sun-dappled skin, wild and crazy-looking dark hair, and a black beard streaked with gray, neatly kept in two braids.

“Is this the lady I’ve been hearing so much about?” The man asked Vax, looking around his shoulder to Keyleth with an even fonder smile. Vax laughed and nodded. He extended his hand to call Keyleth over, wiggling his fingers.

“This is Keyleth,” Vax introduced when she laced her fingers with his. Up close, Keyleth could see the man’s glowing blue eyes and all the signs of someone who had a happy life, even if labored. “Keyleth,” Vax continued, pointing at the man, “This is Kerrek.”

“Kerr is fine,” The man said, extending his hand. Keyleth took it. The handshake was strong but soft at the same time as if Kerrek was holding back on her. His hands were calloused, and there was some dirt under his fingernails, confirming the hard labor Keyleth assumed he did.

“Nice to meet you, Kerr,” Keyleth said politely. Vax had never mentioned him, yet the man seemed to have heard about her. She tucked the information in a mental file to ask Vax later.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Vax asked, nodding at the building. The man nodded and replied with a wink, “Go ahead lovebirds.”

Keyleth blushed, but Vax chuckled. He looked at her nervously and pulled her inside the building with him, the door closing behind them. The temperature changed immediately, and Keyleth was forced to discard her cardigan with Vax’s leather jacket, leaving them on a bench by the door, and pulled the long sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. She then followed Vax down a dimly lit hallway to a second door.

“Ready?” Vax asked her. Keyleth swallowed hard and nodded.

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected, but walking into a brightly lit, hot and humid jungle was not it. The roof was a domed glass that let the bright winter light in without any of the cold, and everywhere Keyleth looked was covered with trees and plants, vines and moss. Once again, she allowed Vax to guide her down the tiled path until they came to a rounded room fully enclosed in class. In the center, a stone bench acted as a barrier to flowers and greenery, and around them—

“Oh. My. Gods.” Keyleth whispered, still not believing what she was seeing.

Butterflies—dozens and dozens of butterflies—flew everywhere, from branch to branch, between flowers and vines, up on the glass ceiling and around the walls. Vax led Keyleth into the middle of the room with a soft hand on the small of her back, stopping by the stone bench. Keyleth spun slowly in place, noting every color, wing shape, and different type of butterfly.

“You might want to close your mouth before a butterfly flies in,” Vax teased. Keyleth snapped her mouth shut but didn’t look at him, still mesmerized by the display.

“Vax, this is—” She stopped herself. A small swarm of five butterflies dove to her and landed on her hair and outstretched arm. Keyleth swallowed a squeal of delight as she turned to face Vax and brought a beautiful blue-winged butterfly between them.

“That’s a morpho peleides,” Vax offered. Keyleth nodded, still awestruck.

“Their wings aren’t actually blue, but—”

“Iridescent, yes. It’s caused by a diffraction of the light from the—”

“Tiny scales on its wings.” Keyleth finished. She looked up at him, surprised that he knew about it.

“I’ve been coming here for a few years. I’ve learned a lot about them,” He explained coyly. Keyleth swallowed, feeling a wave of warmth flow down her body. The butterfly beat its wings and took off to a high branch. Keyleth followed it with her gaze.

“It’s beautiful,” She whispered, still looking at the emperor on the other side of the room.

“You’re beautiful, Keyleth,” Vax whispered back. She whipped her head back to him, only to realize he was so close to her that their breaths mingled with each other. Vax brought a hand up to cup her cheek and leaned in, making Keyleth’s stomach jump.

Oh gods, is this happening?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. Yes. Yes! A million times, yes!

“Please—” She practically begged.

Time stopped, or maybe it was Keyleth’s heart that stopped. Something stopped, for sure. Keyleth’s eyes drifted closed, and she surrendered herself to the warmth of Vax’s hand on her face and the firm hold on her waist as his lips touched hers. The kiss started soft and tentative. As if Vax was scared. Keyleth’s hands slid up Vax’s chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, full of longing and something else Keyleth’s brain could not decipher in that moment. Some time passed, although Keyleth couldn’t tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or days. But eventually, Vax broke the kiss, his piercing gaze on hers, assessing her. Keyleth smiled against his lips, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. Vax opened his mouth to say something, but Keyleth shushed him before he could utter a word by kissing him again.

Keyleth poured all the intensity of her need for Vax into the kiss. Although she had no idea what she was doing, she had read quite a few romance books, so she pulled all that knowledge off the pages and kissed Vax passionately. When her tongue brushed against his lip, Vax opened to allow her in, the hand on her face lowering to join the other on the small of her back, pulling her harder against him. Keyleth could feel every inch of Vax’s body, her tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth until it met his tongue and started a dance she didn’t know the steps for. Keyleth stopped leading, then, and started following Vax’s experienced instructions. The heat on her body was overpowering, but it was Keyleth’s happiness that screamed the loudest in her ears, together with the thrumming beating of her heart.

When they finally pulled apart—when Vax pulled apart—they were both panting, eyes wide as saucers fixed on each other, and smiling. Keyleth willed her lungs to work faster and reminded her heart to slow down, lest she pass out from sheer emotion. Her legs were trembling like reeds on a storm, and if it weren’t for Vax’s firm hold on her, Keyleth would surely fall to her knees in front of him.

“That was—” Vax tried, but his breath was still ragged. Keyleth chuckled and nodded, rubbing her nose against his. Their breaths were warm and sweet like a summer night, Vax’s kiss-swollen lips so, so inviting. Tempting. “Gods, Kiki. You’re—” Vax didn’t finish. He leaned his brow against Keyleth with closed eyes and breathed slowly. Keyleth did the same, following his lead once again. He smelled so good and felt so warm and cozy, just like home. “You’re going to be the death of me, Keyleth.”

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth giggled. Vax kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” She confessed.

“Me too.” Vax tugged at the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back, twisting and turning the hem between his fingers. Keyleth gave him a questioning look that made him swallow nervously. Finally, after taking a long breath that puffed against Keyleth’s lips, Vax said, “Kiki, you know I’m in love with you, right?”

Oh. Keyleth’s heart almost leaped out of her chest. It was one thing to feel the love Vax didn’t hide from her, and a completely different thing to hear him say it (like actually say it). Keyleth let her hands slide down from his shoulders and splay on his chest. The jack-rabbit beating of Vax’s heart on Keyleth’s palm made her smile softly as she spoke, “I know. And I–I think I feel the same way.”

“You think?” Vax asked. His tone wasn’t mocking but uncertain.

“I’m scared,” Keyleth admitted, at last, the feeling she had been trying to repress for a while. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone before and it’s so scary.”

“I know,” Vax replied. His thumbs rubbed tight, reassuring circles on Keyleth’s back.

“My dad was so devastated when my mom died. I—I‘ve never wanted to feel that, or worse… make someone feel like that. I–” Keyleth hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I never thought I would have what they had. I never thought someone was going to fall for me, or that I would fall for anyone. I promised myself when I was young that I would never fall in love and yet…”

Vax smiled. He rubbed the tip of his nose on Keyleth’s and said, “I understand completely. You know about my father. I don’t have the best examples of what a loving relationship is. I never thought I would ever find happiness in my life, much less something so pure as love. We don’t have to be in a relationship, Kiki, but if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be with someone… yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Vax brushed a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Keyleth smiled fondly at him, basking in the feel of his touch, but her smile faltered as she asked him a question she had been dreading.

“And what if I’m never ready?” Knowing that Vax’s answer could mend or break their future was enough to send her spiraling, so Keyleth closed her fists on his shirt, keeping her aloft, keeping her mind steady and grounded.

“Then I’ll always be here as your friend. I’ll only take what you want to give, Kiki. Never more than that.”

“You would stay?” She asked, her voice wavering.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Keeks.” Vax replied, kissing her forehead. Keyleth slumped into his embrace, sliding her arms under his armpits and holding tightly. She waited for the first signs of the imminent panic attack to retreat down to her stomach and vanish. Only then did she uncoil to her feet, releasing Vax completely, and smiled.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“You’re very important to me.” Vax pulled away, but instead of completely letting go of Keyleth, he twinned his fingers with hers and asked, “Are you ready to head back into the cold with me?”

Keyleth nodded and allowed him to pull her with him, retracing their steps to the back door, where they put their jackets back on and Vax slung his bag back on his shoulders. Kerr was still waiting outside, moving crates and boxes when they exited. He turned to Vax and Keyleth with a fond smile, dropped a box on the ground and walked to pat Vax’s back.

“Make sure you and your sister come over for dinner soon, will you? You’re welcome too, Keyleth.” Kerr added, turning to Keyleth.

“Oh. Thank you for the invitation.”

“I’ll talk to Stubby and let her know,” Vax replied.

“It was nice meeting you, Keyleth.” Kerr extended his hand. Keyleth took it again, shaking it softly with a smile.

“It was nice meeting you too.”

Vax and Keyleth spent the rest of the morning wandering through the multiple flower gardens, fountains and ponds, albeit sad-looking in the middle of the Winter. When the sun reached its apex in the sky, Vax took Keyleth by the hand down a secluded gravel path and into a small clearing of pine trees (the few trees that still had their canopies). Vax removed a thick blanket from the bag, spread it on the floor, and sat down, patting the ground between his legs for Keyleth.

“I should have known you were bringing picnic stuff,” Keyleth said. She sat between Vax’s legs facing him, her legs crossed between them. Vax took another blanket from the bag and set it on her lap, covering both of them.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to have an outdoor meal with you?” He scoffed. Keyleth didn’t reply. She grabbed the thermos of tea he passed her and took a sip. It was sweet, just the way she loved it, and it warmed her from the inside out. Vax then grabbed two sandwiches and a bag of chips, and they ate while observing the nature and enjoying the quiet. They didn’t run into many people during their walks in the garden, which Keyleth could only assume was due to the cold weather and the fact that most of the plants were dead.

“We should come back in the spring,” She said after a while.

“I already planned on bringing you back.”

“So, what’s the story with Kerr? How do you know him?” Keyleth asked, passing Vax the thermos.

Vax took a sip of the tea, closed the bottle and set it by his side. He then lifted the blanket from his and Keyleth’s legs and gestured for her to turn around. Keyleth did, scooting and resting her back against his chest. Vax covered them again and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest on her stomach, where he started rubbing circles with his thumbs. Keyleth basked in his warmth. She could never get enough of the feel of Vax’s arms draped safely around her.

“Do you remember what I told you about what happened with Vex?” He asked her. Keyleth nodded. She knew it was a difficult subject for him. “Well, after all that, Vex and I decided to leave Emon for a while. We found this garden. We lied and told them we were high school students, and they believed us. Mostly because we looked like high schoolers. We found this spot right here, secluded enough that no one could stroll into us, and we made it our place. We had a small tent big enough for us and Trinket.”

“One day, Kerr caught me after the park closed, but instead of calling the cops on us, he extended a helping hand. At first, he invited us to have dinner with him and his wife. Hot homemade meals were hard to come by at the time, and Vex was getting thinner every day, so I said yes. They heard our story, and just like you, they grew angry at our father. But most of all, they felt bad for us and wanted to help us.”

“That’s really nice of them,” Keyleth said. Vax nodded. He buried his cold nose in her neck, making her squeal.

“They asked us to stay with them until we came of age, but Vex and I… we had been living on our own for a while, and we—we might have been too proud to take such a huge offer. But we did accept a job offer to work here, and we enrolled back at the highschool, using Kerr’s home address as our location. We often went to Kerr’s for warm meals and never refused their invitation to stay on cold and rainy nights.”

“Kerr and his wife treated us like we were their own children. We finally caved in and moved in for our final year of highschool. They even motivated us to go to college and helped us apply for scholarships and everything. Their house is a home to us.”

“I’m glad you found them. I’m glad Kerr didn’t call the cops on you.” Keyleth said, turning her head to see Vax. She nuzzled her nose against his jaw, making Vax smile.

“I’m glad too. I don’t know if we would still be alive if it weren’t for Kerr.”

“I’m glad you are. It brought you here… to me.” Keyleth whispered and gave Vax a soft peck on the lips.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?” Vax nuzzled against Keyleth’s neck. She giggled and nodded in response. “Did you make your skirt?”

“I did. But my grandma made my cardigan.”

“They’re so pretty. You’re both very talented.”

“I’ll make you something one day,” Keyleth promised.

“Are you cold?” Vax asked, tightening his embrace.

“No. I’m never cold when I’m with you. You’re always so warm and cozy.”

“Hmm. Same. You’re like a ray of sunshine. You’re so happy and cheerful. It’s contagious sometimes.”

Keyleth thought about his words. People often said she was a ray of sunshine, that she lit up any room when she walked in, but Keyleth didn’t feel that way. She was happy. Keyleth did feel joy in life and enjoyed being around her friends and family. It was the moment she was left alone that Keyleth dreaded the most. When she was by herself with her thoughts, her fears and grief. She had witnessed a few episodes where Vax had preferred to be alone, where his mood was extra broody and grumpy. She understood that better than Vax probably thought.

“Kiki?” Vax called her. Keyleth turned sideways, buried her head in Vax’s chest and grabbed the jacket on his stomach. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Keyleth mumbled against his chest. Vax’s hands cradled the back of her head and he pressed a kiss to her hair. He stayed like that and waited until she finally spoke again. “I’m not as much of a ray of sunshine as people think I am. I also have bad moments—bad days, even.”

“I know. I’ve noticed your moods.”

“You have?” Keyleth asked, looking up. Vax nodded and caressed her hair down her back. “You must probably think I’m a fraud then.”

“You’re not a fraud, Kiki. Not everyone can be happy all day, every day. I know you try hard to hide the bad side, but you can trust us… you can certainly trust me. I want you to be yourself when you’re with me, even if that means you’re picking at the skin of your nails or chewing on your lip and the inside of your cheek. I won’t be bothered by your jumpy knee or your shuffling around on your seat.”

Oh shit. Vax knew all her fidgets. Was she really that obvious, or was he just very observant? Keyleth always tried to hide her anxiety in front of everyone, and she was almost sure that she did a good job at it, but she had always been more relaxed with Vax. She had always felt safe with him. Of all people, Vax would be the one to understand Keyleth’s faults the best.

As if he read her mind, Vax added, “You and I aren’t that different, Kiki. Depression and anxiety often go hand in hand.”

“I suppose I might have some of yours, too,” Keyleth admitted. It wasn’t for nothing that her father had made her see a professional when she hit puberty.

“And I have some of yours. It’s perfectly valid to have them both, and if someone ever gives you grief about it, tell me, and I’ll punch them.”

Keyleth snorted at the offer. Some of the weight on her chest lifted, but there was something heavy keeping her from being blissfully happy: finals. History proved that academic high-stress situations were not good for Keyleth. “I don’t think you can punch our professors or finals.”

“Ah. Is that what’s eating at you? Here I was, thinking you were freaking out because I’m extremely handsome, and I make your heart almost leap out of your chest.” Keyleth looked at Vax to see him smirking at her. Her face reddened in response. “You’re going to do great, Keeks. You’re smart, talented, and a great student. All our professors love you. If anything, you’re going to do so good that they will need to expand the grading system just to accommodate your knowledge.”

“You’re exaggerating, Vax. I’m not as smart as you or Pike. And I’m falling behind in Anatomy. You’ve seen my midterm grade.”

“Fine, the human body doesn’t agree with you. Does it matter? Are you in Biology for it or for plants, Keyleth? Didn’t you say you were going to drop Anatomy next year anyway?”

“Yes, but I still want to have a good grade,” Keyleth all but pouted at Vax. Couldn’t he understand the high expectations other people had on her? She had always been a top-of-the-class student in high school, and people expected her to maintain that or do better in college, never to go below their standards.

“Keyleth, love. You had a 16 in the midterm,” Vax grabbed her shoulders and looked at her earnestly. “All your assignments have been above 18–and yes, it counts even if I helped you. Even if you have another 16 in your final, you will still get at least a 17 at the end of the semester. I know it’s not as good as an 18 or a 19, but you are still in the top five students in Anatomy, and I know for a fact that you, miss I-will-not-rest-until-I-have-straight-20s, are the best student in your degree.”

When Vax put it like that, Keyleth had to concede to his logic. She knew that she would need a really bad grade on her final to drastically lower her final grade in Anatomy and the general average, as a consequence, but even though it was a low possibility, it wasn’t impossible.

“Fine.” Keyleth pushed Vax away and got up, straightening her skirt. “I guess you’re right.” She said and walked away from him. Keyleth didn’t need to turn her head to see the look of confusion on his face, but she still peeked and threw over her shoulder, “Let’s go see the waterfall… unless you’re done with our date?”

She laughed as Vax scrambled to his feet and packed everything inside the backpack. He was by Keyleth’s side in a matter of seconds, holding her hand and dragging her down the path. Keyleth giggled at his reinvigorated spirits, feeling slightly better herself, too. Vax was right, she knew that, and while she still had a hard time letting go of that particular anxiety, Keyleth knew she had in him a safe harbor.

“Vax?”

“Yes.” Vax looked at her expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I might barge into your room this month to ask for reassurance. Is that okay?” Keyleth bit at her lip. Vax let go of her hand, only to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her to a stop. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, giving Keyleth a soft, ghostly peck on the lips that made her want more, and said, “I can’t promise I’ll be decent, but my door will always be unlocked for you, Kiki.”

“Good,” Keyleth whispered against his lips. “I might come to collect some hugs then… even if you’re not–decent.”

The kiss was sensual and unhurried, filled with promises of more kisses to come, hugs to be given, and reassuring words to be whispered in the dark. By the time they arrived back at the apartment, lips red and kiss-swollen, the subject of finals was completely gone from Keyleth’s mind, instead filled with the scent of pine trees and snow and the wonderful time she spent with Vax in nature all day. A much needed-rest before the chaos.

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #modern au #college au #be in my eyes #three notes about this chapter:#1. I don't know shit about plants and butterflies. So if something is wrong don't yell at me #but feel free to correct me (gently. I'm sensitive)#2. the grading scale I used is from 0-20 where 20 is the highest grade possible.#this is the grading scale I'm most familiar with #3. The butterfly area was inspired by animal crossing new horizon's butterfly section in the museum.#particularly the round room with the fountain.#Also by the time y'all read this I will probably have some news to share :P

12 notes · View notes

purplebass · 2 years ago

Note

congrats on your new milestone 🎉🎉 Don't know if you still take requests, but if you do, can I request a free card on Wessa or Jessa or Herongrastairs. you chosse 💖

Thank you very much! 🥹✨😺

And this is for you <3 It isn't set during a specific time. Let's say it's between TID and TLH. It's mainly Wessa, but a lot of the TID characters appear and help solve the plot. I hope you like it! 💖

Read on A03

To Beard, Or Not To Beard

One day, Will decides to grow a beard.

Will Herondale liked to change style every once in a while. He wasn’t the type of person to follow fashion – it moved too fast for his liking – but somehow, thanks to his tailor Lemuel Sykes, he was able to stay updated with the latest trends.

“You know, Mr. Herondale, there’s something missing in your style,” the tailor mused one afternoon, admiring how the black velvet made Will’s eyes pop. “Especially with this outfit you’ve requested. And the coat.” The suit wasn’t finished yet, and it was meant for a masquerade ball that would be in a month away at the London Institute.

“I’m curious, please tell!” Will said enthusiastically, always looking for fashion advice. “Perhaps it’s a hat? A scarf? A bowtie? I will have to attend the ball –”

“A beard,” the werewolf replied bluntly. “You should grow a beard, why haven’t you? With those cheekbones and those eyes…” he sighed. “It’s very fashionable among people your age. Plus, you’ve shown me the photograph of the character you’re impersonating at this ball. The fella has a beard.”

Will didn’t seem too sure. “I’ve never grown a beard, it’s a hassle when you eat. I thought I could still do the costume without,” he frowned. “And I wonder if my wife will like it?”

“Then ask her,” Lemuel turned away, checking some brocade fabric on a chair. “But, if you ask me, I’d say yes,” he chuckled, then disappeared into the adjoining room and Will knew he was dismissed.

He thought about the beard on the way home. Sykes was right. The character he was going to go dressed as at the party had a beard, a medium beard, at that. Would it be the same without the beard? Probably not. He used the disguise the invisibility rune gave him, to stare at the mundanes minding their business in the busy streets of London. He was fascinated with how many different kinds of beards people could wear, and he told himself he could try growing a beard too. After all, what impersonation would be credible without such a signature feature?

First, though, he wanted to hear other people’s opinions about the topic. “What do you think about beards, Tess?”

Tessa sat at the vanity in their bedroom brushing her hair, and she stopped for a moment to glance at him from the mirror in front of her to answer him. “Well, it depends on the beard. Which beard are you talking about? Sideburns? Mustache? Van Dyke?”

“A nice one that won’t make one look like a rascal or like a grandfather,” he replied, checking himself in a small mirror he had on the nightstand. “Something not too excessive.”

“Are you thinking of growing one, Will?” she inquired, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“Would you hate it if I did? The tailor suggested it, and I never thought about it until today,” he revealed. “I thought I could grow it in time for the masquerade party.”

Tessa mulled over it as she walked to the bed, after tending to her long brown hair. “I don’t think I would hate it, but it’s your decision to make,” she sat down next to him. “I think you would be handsome with a beard too, but,” she sighed, and drew in a long breath.

“But what? Perhaps I would look ancient?” he wondered. “Maybe I shouldn’t indulge in this. The costume would be good even without the beard.”

“Quite the opposite,” she studied him, tracing his face with her finger, stopping on his chin. “I think you would look even more desirable than you are now. People would covet you even more.”

“Covet? I think that some would mock me, that’s for sure,” he took hold of her hand and kissed it. “I would only rethink this if you found me obnoxious.”

“Then you’re set? You’re getting a beard?” Tessa questioned with interest. “In case you don’t like it anymore, you can still shave it.”

“I hereby declare,” he stated with a firm voice, “that I’m going to grow facial hair. This is my final decision, Your Honor.”

It didn’t take long for friends and family to acknowledge Will’s new style, even when his facial hair was barely a five o’ clock shadow.

“Have you been on a trip recently, Will?” his sister Cecily asked him a few days after he had made his decision. “Or maybe you are sick?”

“The answer for both is no,” he folded his arms on his chest. They were waiting for the tea and the scones to arrive. “Why do you think that?”

His sister glanced at her husband, who sat beside her, and she bit her lip. “Because of the thing on your face, Will,” Cecily answered, stifling a laugh. “Have you lost your shaving set? I didn’t know you fancied this style.”

“Well, what if I did, Cecy?” he peered at Gabriel, noticing that he was smiling too. “If Gabriel got a beard one day, would you kick him out of the house?”

“I would not, under any circumstances, get a beard,” Gabriel declared firmly. “I don’t want to look older yet, nor does it suit me.”

Will opened his mouth in disbelief. “Then it means you tried once! Too bad I wasn’t there to witness,” he said, and Gabriel rolled his eyes, hinting that he was probably right.

“Too bad we are here to witness it,” he echoed, and Cecily couldn’t stop laughing until they left.

Two weeks later, the stubble had grown so much it looked more like a serious beard. “You can barely see my skin underneath,” Will told himself while looking in a mirror in his office.

“Will, we’re here,” Charlotte announced herself and Gideon, who needed to visit the Institute for bureaucratic matters. “By the Angel,” she gasped when Will turned, a hand placed on her chest. “I thought it was Maurice Bridgestock for a second.”

“I can’t believe you’ve just compared me to that sick rat, may he rot in hell,” Will sneered, adjusting some documents on the desk. “I see you’ve noticed my beard, or what is truly beginning to resemble one,” he scratched his chin proudly.

“It’s impossible not to notice, Will,” Gideon commented sourly. “Did you make a bet with someone?”

“Why do you all think I made bets or I am unwell,” he shook his head, trying to find a pen. “Even your brother and my sister believed the same thing. I don’t think I am that predictable.”

“You’re right, you’re not predictable,” Charlotte agreed, “but you’re also someone who keeps his promises, when they lose bets with random people in town.”

“Unlike someone,” he stared directly at Gideon, “I always pay my debts.”

“Who did you pester this time?” Gideon wondered instead.

“I did not pester anybody, Mr. I pretend I don’t owe Will a few pounds,” he glared at his friend, who pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I chose to grow this because I wanted a change and because of my costume for the masquerade party.”

“Are you going to dress up as Frederick Barbarossa? Because if so, I suggest to use red dye –”

“Please, do not give him ideas, Gideon,” Charlotte frowned, her voice laced with worry. As if there was something to be worried about.

It was just a beard.

Will wondered why everyone wasn’t taking him seriously, but he had expected it. He took a few days to get used to his fresh appearance as well, but after a while, he believed the beard made him look powerful. He thought himself a Roman hero who, stranded in another country, was fighting a war for his Empire and was hoping to survive. A hero from another period, one who couldn’t have possibly shaved because there wasn’t the time. At least, Jem liked it. Or so, he thought. When they met, he stopped in his tracks before he could come closer to Will. He took it as a sign that he was deciding whether or not it suited him.

I see you changed your style, Jem told him. Change is good, but not for good.

“Do you like it?” Will showed him the sides, but Jem didn’t say anything. Cryptic as ever. Perhaps he was just speechless. Either because the beard blinded him, or because it disgusted him.

He hoped people in the London Enclave would fear him more with this new imposing look and not mock him like his friends did. He was aware that people talked behind his back. Either way, the beard had a purpose, he did not care what anyone thought. Nor did he mind what his son and daughter thought. His mustache was growing, but for his costume, he had to grow it a little more.

“Can I write a character who looks like you? A pirate who is earthsick and who is feared among the seven seas,” Lucie studied him, taking notes.

“An earthsick pirate? Does that word even exist?” Jame scrunched his nose. “Papa, I think you look weird,” he confessed. “But you also remind me of someone.”

“Write whatever you want, Lucie,” Will conceded. “Who do I remind you of, Jamie? Let’s listen,” he tilted his head on the side, “a hero? A Romantic poet? I will tell you who I’m going to dress up as at the ball, if you guess correctly.”

James couldn’t recall the face, and why he looked so familiar. Only when his father left, he remembered the picture of the man who resembled Will with the beard. He’d seen it in the newspaper a lot recently. It was the photo of the heir apparent to the British throne.

The day of the masquerade party finally arrived. Will's beard resembled the one of his original inspiration after a month, and he was beyond himself with excitement for the ball because he couldn't wait to show it off.

“The resemblance is close,” Tessa observed, stroking her husband's beard. “And I like facial hair, it’s so soft to the touch. I may grow attached to it.”

“Then perhaps I should keep it for a while,” he stated. He will think about it after the party. “Let’s go get the rest of my costume before it's too late. The party is going to start soon.”

When Will tried the rest of the costume, the tailor couldn’t help but admire his handiwork. Sykes finished the suit a week prior. It already waited in the closet of Will and Tessa’s bedroom at the London Institute, and he couldn’t wait to wearing it.

“I admit, Lemuel, that your work is astounding,” Will commented, moving from left to right to look at the waist-length velvet coat with a row of gilt buttons on the front and gold embroidery on the cuffs. “It is identical to the one he wore in the newspaper.”

“Thanks, Mr. Herondale, but you know that I’m the best,” Sykes offered a smile as he adjusted the coat on Will. “And you’re one of my best clients, and one of the most handsome,” he winked, but Will only wanted to know Tessa’s opinion.

“How do I look?” he asked, but his wife’s grin and her sweet and lovely eyes were already telling him what she thought.

“You are very handsome, indeed,” she said, and moved in front of him to fix the lapels of the coat, but to also steal a caress on his cheek. “I can’t wait to wear my dress so we can match.”

The tailor sent them away because he was running late, and Will and Tessa hopped on their carriage to go back to the Institute.

“My desire for tonight is that our family and friends will like this party,” Will said later, when they were seated in the comfort of the carriage. “And I hope that they come dressed as famous characters as we requested. Otherwise, what kind of masked party is it?”

“They will, I made sure to specify that in the invitations, don’t worry,” Tessa said. “I wrote that they should be dressed as a person from history.”

“Do you think they’ll get the assignment? Sometimes I think that –” The carriage abruptly came to a halt, and the jolt pushed Will and Tessa against the upholstered seats. They glanced at each other, both startled but otherwise unbothered. “Are you okay?” Will asked his wife, his hands on her shoulders protectively.

Tessa nodded. “Yes, I’m fine, simply shaken by whatever blocked our path,” she told him, her heart beating loudly in her chest out of stupor. “Should you check?”

“We’re not moving yet,” he observed, his head tilted toward the window in hopes to hear sounds of whatever ruckus had stopped the carriage. “Maybe it’s just a mouse, Balios is scared of them,” Will mused, “but I should check the horse nonetheless, in case it sprained its leg.”

“It’s better if you do,” she agreed, although she wasn’t sure why she felt a wave of uneasiness crawl down on her spine. A sensation she couldn’t put off after the carriage had halted. “Just,” she cautioned, resting her hand on his shoulder, “be careful. It could be a demon. Evening fell, after all.”

Will’s expression softened. “I will come back before you know it, fy nghariad,” he kissed her lips briefly. “I won’t let any mouse nor demon stop me from attending this party,” he offered her a smile. “Stay here,” he told her at last, before he came out of the vehicle to see if everything was really fine.

Tessa waited sixty seconds. If everything was fine, Will would come back inside before time was up, she told herself. He wasn’t the type of person who would want the people he loved to worry, and he had been excited for days on end for this party. She knew he wouldn’t want to lose time to get ready and for the celebration to start.

She counted silently in her head, but she came out of the carriage before she got to thirty. She should’ve come out of the carriage when he did, she chided herself. If her husband protested, she would say she wanted to make sure everything was okay. She didn’t need any excuses for wanting to check on her husband, when all she heard after he exited the carriage was silence. I didn't hear your voice and came to check, that would be her excuse.

She thought there was an explanation for silence, the carriage was, after all, driven by Balios alone. When she came outside, though, that feeling of agitation crept in her stomach again. The street was peaceful and lonely, a sign that most of the shops had already closed for business for the day.

She would take even the smallest sound as a sign that Will was where he told her he would be, but when she got to the horse, she found it waiting by itself. He grunted when it saw Tessa. “Balios, where is Will?” She asked the horse, knowing that it would understand. It bobbed its head as if bothered by something, which made Tessa notice there was a handkerchief on the muddy cobblestones. It was Will’s, she would recognize it anywhere. It had his initials sewn on the bottom left in dark blue. She wondered where its owner was.

Tessa looked around, her heart beat louder than after the shock of a few minutes ago. Her heart protested that Will wasn’t there, there was no one there but her and the horse. She didn't know what to do, and she didn’t want to lose control. She couldn’t lose control. They had been married for years, it wasn’t the first time they found themselves in such circumstances. It wasn’t the first time they lost sight of each other, and then found each other again.

The first thing, the easiest thing she could do immediately, was screaming his name to the empty street around her. No one answered, but at least she had tried. But she had to try harder, otherwise – she didn’t want to think about it. She would find him, and they would go to the masquerade party together, just like they had planned. She tried not to panic. She needed help.

She knew that the masquerade party would start any moment, and that even without them, Lucie and James would greet their friends and family in their stead. She shook her head and scoffed. It wasn’t the time to think about the party, but the party was probably the only place she should go asking for help. Thus, she got on the front of the carriage with a new resolve and ordered Balios to take her to the London Institute, hoping to get a helping hand or two.

As she suspected, a few carriages were already parked outside of the Institute when she arrived, and a few more were on their way behind her. She spotted her best friend Sophie coming out of one that had just stopped near the steps with her husband, both of them wearing a mask, and she ran to her frantically.

“Tessa,” Sophie acknowledged when she looked up after descending her family carriage. “What happened? You are in distress,” her brows knotted with worry.

“I’m coming from Kensington,” she started, “we were ambushed.”

“What? Who ambushed you? Was it a demon?”

Tessa tried to keep calm, but it was impossible. “I don’t know,” she said desperately, as Sophie held her hands, “we were coming from the tailor when the carriage halted. Will came out to check if the horse was hurt, and then I didn’t find him outside anymore.”

“Wait, what? Did they take Will?” Gideon asked. In the meantime, Gabriel and Cecily also arrived and joined their little group. They also wore masks and fancy dresses. “Who could have done this?”

“He has a lot of haters,” Gabriel said, trying to be funny, but Cecily elbowed him in the stomach and tried to comfort Tessa. “I mean, it’s true.”

“I don’t think it was someone we know,” Tessa replied sullenly, trying to gather her thoughts. “I didn’t hear any sound, and it couldn’t have been a demon. It wouldn’t have vanished just like that.”

“What’s this?” Sophie asked, seeing that Tessa had something in her hand.

Tessa showed them the customized handkerchief she found on the scene. “We can try using a tracking rune, can't we?” she wondered. “That’s why I came here and I didn’t go after him by myself.” I can’t do anything with my powers, she wanted to add, but she didn’t want to sound more desperate than she already was.

“It’s better that you came to us,” Cecily said. “If someone took him, they could’ve taken you too.”

“Cecily is right, it’s better that you alerted us,” Gideon nodded. “This way, we have better chances to safeguard ourselves when we find him, and to get him out of wherever he is. We don’t know who kidnapped him.”

“Do you think they kidnapped him, then?” Gabriel wondered.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Tessa affirmed firmly, offering the white cloth to whoever was willing to draw the rune that could help them find him.

It was Cecily who took the kerchief. “I’m coming with you, that’s for sure,” she glared at Gabriel, who didn’t seem too bothered.

“We’re all coming with you,” Sophie added, squeezing Tessa’s hand.

Cecily finished the true north rune by then, and it started pulsing. She felt an electric current running through her, then she started to move towards the gate, letting the rune lead her where to go. The five of them followed her, and they went back to Kensington, from where Tessa came. She realized they were approaching the exact place when the carriage had halted, and was about to tell her friends, when Cecily stopped as well.

“It led here” she informed the group, glancing at the tall building in front of them. It was a bakery, and Tessa remembered it was already closed for business when she and Will passed.

“How can it be,” Tessa sighed, “this is where they ambushed us. How can he be here?”

“They could have taken him inside of this shop. It would be the perfect decoy,” Sophie commented.

“Maybe the shop has a basement,” Gabriel added, looking closely. “A lot of these shops have them. They have kitchens where they prepare bread and other pastries, so they don’t need to get the product from a seller.”

“How do you know that, Gabriel?” Cecily seemed impressed. “I think we should open the door and get inside, just, you know, to check. It won’t hurt.”

“We can use an open rune,” Gideon agreed. “This way, the owner won’t know that we entered his shop. Even if he discovered us, we shouldn’t care,” he shrugged. “The tracking rune took us here, which means that he should be inside of this building.”

Sophie, who was closer to the door, drew the open rune. Before entering, everyone but Tessa drew a silent rune to avoid being heard. It would be useful to be noiseless, but everyone did what they could, and she was doing her best. They found the door that led to the basement behind the counter, and one after another, they descended the stairs. She hoped that Will was there, otherwise, she would have to find him in other ways.

When Will came to, his head was pounding. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting fast to the darkness of the room, the only source of light coming from a row of windows at the top of the wall he was facing.

He faintly remembered what occurred before he woke up in that place.

He remembered that today was the day of the masquerade party they organized at the Institute. He also recalled that his tailor Lemuel Sykes had made him the perfect costume, and that he and Tessa, his beautiful wife, went to get it before the party would start. Then, he remembered the jolt. The carriage halted in the middle of the road, he got out to check what was wrong, but someone came from behind. Lastly, he remembered the acrid smell of a substance, and darkness following.

Tessa. Where was she? Was she with him?

He scanned the room in search of his wife. He thought whoever took him prisoner might’ve taken her too, but he was alone. He was relieved, at last, but what if they took her somewhere else? He tried to free his hands, but they were tied behind him. Unluckily for the wretches who were holding him hostage, he knew how to free himself from ropes.

“I wonder how much he’ll take to wake up,” he heard someone say behind his back, footsteps approaching.

He started untying himself nonetheless, trying to be as silent as he could. He saw the faint shadow of a person on the wall. They brought a gas lamp or perhaps a candle in the room, and he realized they were indeed in a basement. A kitchen basement, to be precise. There is a bakery store in Kensington, he thought, maybe I am closer to home than I think.

“The effect of the chloroform lasts for half an hour only,” another one replied. “I think.”

“What you goin’ to do when he wakes up, duh? Just threaten the royal family that we got this lad, and they, ugh, give us money?”

“I thought we talked about this,” a female voice said, “yes, we are going to threaten the royal family. We are going to send a letter saying we have his royal highness the Prince of Wales George, and that if they want him back, they need to give us 5,000 pounds.”

“They really gonna give us that, Emy? They would want to see he is the right fella,” the guy huffed. “We sure this lad is this George heir?”

“Of course we are,” the lady, Emy, answered with confidence. “Didn’t you see him trying on that royal costume at the tailor shop? I’m positive it’s him.”

Someone snorted, and he heard footsteps. “I don’t know, I believed his hair was lighter, judging from the photos in the newspapers, y’know.”

“You know nothing, Danny,” Emy spat. Will thought she was the boss here. Interesting. “Let’s see if he wakes up, shan’t we? It’s going to be a long night.”

Will knew they were coming to see him now, and he wasn’t afraid. He was a shadowhunter, and these three – he imagined it was three of them, judging from their voices – were mundanes. Unless they used deathly weapons on him, he was sure he could best them and come out of that basement unscathed. Or so he hoped. He had been hoping too much lately, but it didn’t hurt to hope more. Hope was free, and so he would be, in a few minutes’ time.

He had already untied his hands while they were talking, but he didn’t remove the ropes just yet. When he heard them approaching, he closed his eyes, pretending to be unconscious.

“Still sleeping, I’ma afraid,” one of the men said, kicking one of Will’s feet. “Should we wake him?”

“Suit yourself,” Emy said. Her voice seemed further than her sidekick. “But be quick. I’m starving. Let him confirm that he is who he is.”

“Should I call him your majesty?”

“No, call him jolterhead,” she suggested. “He’s not a majesty yet, you idiot.”

The man cleared his throat. “Yo’, jolterhead! Wake up!”

“Danny!” Emy chided, stomping her feet on the wooden floor. “I didn’t mean it literally, you stupid!”

Will decided that was the time to act. He opened his eyes at once and freed himself of the ropes around his hands, but he did not discard them – they could be useful as he found out that they took all his weapons. Emy and the sidekick were still arguing when they realized he freed himself and got up from the chair.

“Danny, get him!” but Danny was not very fast, and when Will kicked him between his legs, he crumpled to the floor crying, and then ran away from the room altogether when he realized things could get messy. “Useless piece of trash,” Emy said, irritated. “I didn’t know princes of Wales could fight,” she looked left and right for the other sidekick, but he was nowhere in sight.

Will grinned devilishly, the rope tight in his hands. “I didn’t know people could be so daft, either,” he commented. “Mistaking random people from Wales to be princes,” he snorted.

“And you’re a good actor, too,” she clapped her hands. “It’s useless to lie, you highness.”

“It’s useless to kidnap innocent people who know how to fight, too,” he echoed. Emy unsheathed a knife from her coat, and she aimed at him, but Will dodged her easily, using the rope as a means to shield himself. “And you also stole my knives, thief!” Will said, trying to get it back, but the woman wasn’t bad at protecting herself.

“I steal whatever I want,” she tried to elbow him, but Will anticipated her moves, swift as an arrow. They kept this dance for a while, until Emy’s knife cut the rope in two, rendering it useless. Will frowned, fuming. He glanced around for a makeshift weapon, but the closest object available on the kitchen counter that he could have gotten was still too far from him. Emy took advantage of Will’s distraction and grabbed his beard, pinning him to the wall, the knife she was holding dangerously close to his throat. “What, now? Cat got your tongue, prince?”

Will grunted. He felt the blade of the knife she stole from him graze his skin. It was a runed knife, but still, it was a knife all the same, and if he wasn’t careful –

Everything happened fast. “Bloody hell!” Emy cried in pain. Will barely registered a knife hitting his captor’s hand. She let go of his beard because of the shock, and the knife she was holding clattered on the wooden floor. He took the chance to stomp on her hand with his foot, he didn’t care she was a mundane. She was still a mundane who tried to murder him. Emy helped, but at least she was sedated. She cried in pain, holding her bruised hand in her other hand.

Will gazed up, trying to see whether the person who threw the knife was a friend or a foe, and he beamed when he realized who was at the bottom of the stairs.

“Tessa!” he called, but it was short lived.

“Will, behind you!” she shouted, and he turned just in time to dodge a blow by the third sidekick, elbowing him in the stomach. The man fell on the floor unceremoniously.

“What a pest!” he exclaimed loudly, hearing Emy cry in the background. “Serves you well, thief. I should call the police, should you kidnap the real prince George. But unfortunately, I have a party to attend.”

Everyone but the kidnappers either rolled their eyes or chuckled.

They got back to the Institute using the Lightwood’s carriage, which was too small for six, but they had to make do. His sister Cecily, along with Gabriel, sat in the driver’s seat, while Sophie and Gideon sat with Will and Tessa inside the carriage.

Will explained what happened after he woke up, after he had fainted because of the chloroform. They tried to be ironic and say that it was the beard who got him into trouble, but Will brushed it off as being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And having the wrong costume. His friends didn’t seem so sure but it didn’t matter. Then Tessa explained to him how she found his handkerchief and how their friends helped her track him.

“I let it fall when I realized someone was behind me,” Will said. “I knew it would be useful. And it was,” he glanced at Tessa first, then at his friends. “Thank you all for helping Tessa.”

They returned to the Institute, and the party was still in full swing, and it would be for a couple of hours still. The Lightwoods took leave once they got inside, claiming they needed a drink in order to refresh. Will couldn’t blame them. They had, after all, helped Tessa with the True North rune, and it was thanks to that, that they had found him. They deserved anything they wanted, and more.

“Don’t you want to go upstairs and rest, my darling? You’ve had quite the day,” Tessa said, lingering outside of the doors of the ballroom, where everything was quieter. “You must be tired.”

“Shouldn’t we also call Jem to check on my health?” he wondered sarcastically, but Tessa frowned disapprovingly. “I’m sorry, Tess. I didn’t mean to brush off your suggestion, but I think I should stay. I really wanted this party, and the only way for me to distract myself from my misadventure is living the party.”

Tessa wasn’t convinced, and he suspected that was the reason why she kept in the alcove close to the ballroom but making no move to walk over there. “What if they drugged you? Maybe we should call Jem, you know,” she bit her lip nervously, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Tess. Tess. Tessa,” he smoothed her cheek with his forefinger. “My love, don’t cry,” he grabbed her, and she held the back of his vest in her fist as she sobbed quietly.

He let her vent until she had enough, his hand caressed her back to calm her down. “I hate this beard,” she muttered.

Will chuckled softly, holding his wife’s body closer to his. “You know what, I dislike it too.”

“Then why did you grow it?” Tessa asked, gazing up into his blue eyes.

He mused about it for a moment. “First, because Sykes’ suggestion wasn’t bad. I never tried growing one, and I was curious how I would look,” he shrugged. “Second, it was because of this damned prince of Wales costume,” he rolled his eyes. “One thing is for certain, though. I’m never attempting to grow a beard ever again.”

“I concur,” Tessa managed a smile. “Even though, I must admit, I will miss it a little. I liked trailing my hand through it when we kissed,” she beamed.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you can still trail your hand through my hair while we kiss, or when you want. I still have plenty,” he made a crooked smile, and he knew she liked the proposition.

“It is a good consolation prize, indeed,” she nodded. “Thank you very much for the proposition, your royal highness, prince of Wales.”

He shook his head. “Only until the party is over,” he declared gravely. “Then I want it gone. Erased from my face. Can you do it for me, when we retire in our rooms, Tessa? I want to go back to being the old Will Herondale, please.”

“I will do anything you want, Will,” she touched his cheek lightly. “But first, let’s get something to drink and to eat.”

“Whatever you want, my darling. Whatever you want.”

Ending Notes: jolterhead is an authentic insult from the Victorian and Edwardian era, it means "a stupid fellow".

#tweety's celebration #tsc #tsc fanfiction #tlh #will herondale #tessa gray #wessa #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #gideon lightwood #sophie lightwood #gabrily #sophideon #the infernal devices #clockwork princess #clockwork prince #clockwork angel #tweety.writes

22 notes · View notes