#i will also meow because you haven’t pet me enough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckybarnesowl · 3 years ago

Text

Love in Four Acts

Pairing: fatws!Bucky x nurse!reader (featuring matchmaker!Alpine)

Word count: 7.5k

Summary: You’re a nurse living in Brooklyn. You’ve got a crush on your next door neighbour who doesn’t seem to know you exist. One day his cat finds its way into your apartment, forcing you both to finally meet. That’s when you learn that he’s James Buchanan Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier. Well, there goes your chances. Or maybe getting close to a superhero isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.

Warnings: some mentions of Bucky dealing with past trauma and lack of confidence; Bucky has a brief emotional breakdown; minimal use of y/n; some sweetheart, but no “doll”

A/n: This is my extremely late entry for @pellucid-constellations love letter writing challenge. This idea had been stuck in my head for a while and the challenge gave me the push I needed to flesh it out so thank you, Kathie, for the inspiration! And I incorporated these two prompts:

“And I’ve never felt like that before, but something about you makes me want to feel like that.” “Is it fair to say that you read the love letter and that this means ‘yes’?”

PS: I made Dr. Raynor a good therapist because that’s what our boy deserves. Also Bucky and Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle are basically the same character and no one can tell me otherwise. There are some major references to that movie so if you haven’t seen it, my apologies.

Act I

Lose a chatty white cat? Come knock on 3B. -Y/n

You pinned the note to the cork board next to the mailboxes and made your way back up to your apartment on the third floor.

You lived in an old three story walk-up. The kind with faded brick on the outside, no elevator, creaky wood floors, and never enough electrical outlets. The pipes shuddered in the walls at random times and sometimes the lights flickered. It was home and you loved it. The rent was cheap and everyone in the building was friendly enough.

Except for your next door neighbour.

Your shy, enigma of a neighbour who looked like a modern day Greek god. That chiselled jawline, his messy-on-top-short-on-the-sides brown hair, those black t-shirts and jeans he always wore that hugged him in all the right spots. It was enough to make heart beat pick up every time you passed each other in hallway.

You tried friendly hello’s and hi’s when he first moved in, which were always met with, well, nothing. He completely ignored all of your attempts at neighbourly interactions, averting his blue eyes to the ground whenever you greeted him. So you resigned to a simple smile anytime you crossed paths, in case he finally came out of his shell.

The old adage of you always want what you can’t have definitely held up. Your crush on your neighbour only intensified as the months went on.

There was something familiar about him, and he didn’t make you feel threatened the way most jacked up men would. Maybe it was his quiet demeanour, always trying to take up as little space as possible. Whatever it was, something in the way he carried himself made you feel safe knowing that you two shared a wall. New York had all sorts of strange people. It was comforting to know you had a strong neighbour next door in case something ever happened.

Not that you needed protection. You’d grown a thick skin over the past five years—working as a nurse in the emergency department at the Brooklyn Hospital Centre meant you dealt with some challenging situations. You loved your job, but you had definitely learned to think quick on your feet, becoming a master at diffusing a situation. Though it was your compassion and empathy that made you one of the top nurses on the floor and was why you put up with the shift work—you really just loved helping others.

“So who do you belong to, huh?” you asked the white ball of fur that was purring next to you on your couch. It let out a string of chirped meows in response as it pranced back and forth, nudging its head under your hand for more pets.

The feline had jumped in from the fire escape when you opened your window after getting back from your evening shift. The air was starting to warm up as winter finally retracted its icy grip over the city. You had felt the breath of spring in the air as you walked home from the train and wanted to let some fresh air in. As you pushed the heavy guillotine-style window up, the white cat bounded into your living room like a lightning bolt, nearly giving you a heart attack. You had stuck your head out of the window to see if any of your neighbours were out, but your search came up empty. You shut the window so the cat couldn’t escape, scribbled the quick note and ran down the stairs to post it. Your new visitor was perched on your couch when you came back a few minutes later, its tail lazily twitching back and forth, having wasted no time in making itself at home.

“Well whoever they are, I bet they miss you. You sure are sweet,” you continued, answered by another string of choppy meows.

A knock on the door interrupted your dialogue, and you scooped up the cat without even thinking whether or not it would be ok with being handled that way. Sure enough, the cat snuggled into the crook of your elbow, nuzzling its head under your chin. This was the most affectionate cat you had ever met.

You suffered your second close call with a heart attack that night as you opened your door. There stood your silent, moody, painfully attractive neighbour. He was wearing a leather jacket and black leather gloves on his hands, one of which was rubbing the back of his neck as he grimaced awkwardly at you.

“Hiya, neighbour,” you said as cooly as possible, desperately trying to ignore the pounding of your heart.

“Uh, sorry to bother you so late... but I read your note.”

“This sweet love muffin is yours I presume?” you asked, nudging your chin into the cat’s fur one last time before having to give it back.

Your crush chuckled at the nickname you’d already given his pet. “I’m not sure sweet is the right word to describe him. Though he sure seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“You mean he’s not like this all the time?”

“Uh, no. He barely lets me pick him up. You did get the chatty part right though. It's kinda nice to have around actually… I mean, uh…”

You watched as his icy blue eyes darkened and looked down at his hands he was now wringing together nervously. He’s lonely, you thought to yourself. Your heart clenched tighter for him.

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to be happy to be back home with you, won’t you…” you trailed off, realising you didn’t know what to call the cat. Or his owner for that matter.

Start with the easy one, Y/n, you told yourself. “What’s his name?”

“Alpine,” your neighbour replied softly, a half smile returning to his lips as he brought his gaze back up towards you. The cat mewled at the sound of his name, causing you both to laugh.

“Well, Alpine,” another meow, “it’s time to go back home with your dad.” You lifted the cat off your chest and handed him, with a bit of reluctance, back to your neighbour. You found a morsel of courage and added, “if you ever need a cat sitter, I’d be happy to. He’s a real sweetheart.”

“Thanks a lot. That’s uh, real kind of you,” he responded, a faint blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you two get reunited. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

“Right,” he hesitated a moment, as if trying to decide if he should tell you his name. “I’m Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky, it was nice to finally meet you. Remember, if you ever need someone to watch him, or anything really, just knock.”

“Will do. G’night then.”

“‘Night, neighbour.”

You closed the door, your cheeks on fire as you let out a groan. “‘Night, neighbour,” you repeated mockingly. Could you have laid it on any thicker? And how could someone that hot be that awkward? It was adorable and only strengthened your crush.

Well, at least I know his name now, you thought. “Bucky.” It had a familiar ring to it, but you couldn’t place why.

As you lay in bed that night, your mind replaying the interaction over and over, you finally gave in and grabbed your phone. As soon as you clicked “go” after typing “Bucky” into the search field, your heart nearly stopped for the third time.

“No fucking way,” you exclaimed out loud.

Your neighbour was James Buchanan Barnes. Brainwashed ex-assassin turned Avenger. You were crushing on a literal superhero.

“Well, there goes that,” you sighed, turning over to finally try and get some sleep. At least you knew there was no chance anymore. Still, maybe you’d get lucky and at least dream about him. At this point, you’d take what you could get. You closed your eyes, smiling at the possibility as you drifted off.

-----ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ-----

Act II

[Three weeks later]

“Shit,” Bucky muttered under his breath as he darted around his sparsely furnished apartment in search of his keys.

“I bet you did this on purpose, didn’t you,” he glared at Alpine.

The cat let out a single blunt chirp as he jumped onto the back of the couch to watch his owner fret over his belongings.

Bucky couldn’t afford to miss his appointment with Dr. Raynor. That was the whole basis of the pardon: state mandated therapy for a minimum of one year in exchange for exoneration from the crimes he the Winter Soldier committed.

“Ah ha!” he exclaimed, startling Alpine off the couch as he retrieved the set of keys from one of his shoes by the door. Must have fallen off the hook, he thought. The cat began circling through his legs while meowing at him, his routine every time Bucky prepared to leave.

Bucky picked up the cat and booped its small pink nose with the tip of his own. “I’ll be back soon, buddy. Don’t tear the place up while I’m out.”

The cat meowed low, as if offended at the thought, shaking himself out as soon as Bucky placed him back down on the floor.

When Bucky thinks back on what happened next, he can’t help but chuckle at the thought of his cat being this cunning. Normally Alpine would sit at the door as Bucky left. It was his send off routine that the cat never broke. Except for today. On this particular day, Alpine bolted through Bucky’s legs and into the hallway before the supersoldier knew what had happened.

“Dammit!” he yelled without thinking.

The curse caused you to turn around, your door still open as you were just getting home from an overnight shift. This gave Alpine enough time to brush past your legs and take immediate residence under your couch.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Bucky groaned under his breath.

“I think your cat might have a crush on me,” you said, any nervousness that normally bubbled up whenever you saw Bucky was currently being dulled by your fatigue from a 12-hour shift.

“I think you’re right,” Bucky chuckled. Him and me both, he admitted internally as he felt his cheeks heat up at the intrusive thought. Clearing his throat, he quickly found his words again. “I’m sorry to do this… you look like you’re just getting back from work… but, uh, would you mind watching him for just a few hours? I have an appointment that I really can’t miss.”

Bucky’s worry at the ask melted when he felt the warmth of your smile. “Of course! It usually takes me a few hours to wind down from a shift anyways, so it’s no trouble at all.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Don’t sweat it. That’s what neighbours are for, right?”

Bucky felt his heart rate increase as he saw the sincerity in your eyes match the tone of your voice. How could someone this beautiful be this sweet? He felt his crush intensify with every interaction you both had, and it was almost becoming unbearable. Almost.

“Right. Well, thanks again. I’ll be back around 11. Is that okay?”

“Yup, no problem. Go on, or you’ll be late.”

“Thanks, neighbour”

“Anytime,” you said softly with your ever-present smile, making Bucky’s stomach flutter.

He nodded and turned away, before you could see how red his cheeks could go. "Thanks, neighbour"... Jesus Christ, Barnes, get it together and stop being a creep.

***

“I can sense the apprehension about asking your neighbour out. But I’m still not following how it would make you a creep. Can you try and explain that part for me?”

Bucky sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, then out the window. Dr. Raynor always forced him to articulate his thoughts in more detail than he felt comfortable with, or even capable of.

He loathed it.

And he also recognized that it was the part about this whole therapy thing that was helping him the most. Separating fears from reality. Getting at the root of his emotions, rather than burying them.

“It’s just…” he trailed off with another sigh, before forcing himself to push through the discomfort. “They're not dumb. I’m sure they know who I am. What I’ve done… there’s just no way they'd want to be with someone like me.” Bucky looked at his gloved hands pressed into his thighs. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He could never be good enough for someone like you.

“So what I’m hearing is that because of the actions you were brainwashed into carrying out, actions that you yourself would never do, you believe you could never be good enough for this neighbour who—from what you’ve shared with me—seems to like you quite a bit. Is that right?”

“I don’t know about that last part, but, yeah, I guess that’s it,” Bucky resigned quietly, finally making eye contact with Dr. Raynor again.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, James. I bet it feels quite lonely to think that you don’t deserve to be liked or cared about by anyone.”

Bucky felt his eyes steam. It happened sometimes when Dr. Raynor touched on a hard truth. He wasn’t there yet, though. Letting himself cry. A few drops had seeped through the cracks, but the dam he had built since getting himself back was holding steady for now.

He sniffed before responding, urging the lump in his throat to retreat.

“I just… how could someone feel safe with me? Accept me… knowing all of that?”

“Well, like we’ve talked about in other sessions, that wasn’t you. I know it’s hard for you to accept and I understand why. But it's important I keep reiterating it. Why don’t we try looking at it from a new angle and see if this helps?”

Bucky nodded. As if I've got a choice.

“Great. Now imagine someone who’s been oppressed by their government and has had all of their freedoms taken away, including providing for their family. If they steal a loaf of bread to feed their starving children, do they deserve to go to jail?”

Bucky doesn’t even need to think about it. “No.”

“And if a child is held at gunpoint and told to shoot his pet dog or else his family would be killed, is he an animal killer?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So do you see that everything isn’t black or white? That in certain circumstances, under pressure, even when we know right from wrong, the lines are blurred?”

Bucky nodded.

“So can you then see how those lines are blurred even more when someone is brainwashed and trained to go against their conscience? When someone has their free will stripped from them?”

Bucky was silent for a long moment. He was conscious of the memories playing in the background of his mind as he processed what Dr. Raynor was asking him. Memories of missions as the Winter Soldier. But there was a new process happening that surprised him. It was faint at first, but he started seeing the person in the memories not as himself, but as someone else. Like a character in a brutal horror film. He was still affected by it, but when he looked at the emotions that were coming up, the guilt he normally felt was being overpowered by empathy for the killer.

“I can see what I said affected you. What’s happening for you right now? Where did you just go?”

“I, uh—” Bucky cleared his throat, willing his eyes to stay dry. “I can see it. I can see how I... he... had no choice. He was forced. I can see it.” Bucky felt his voice tremble and he closed his eyes, breathing deep through the epiphany he’d just had.

“This is huge, James. I’m really happy to hear that. I want you to try and remember those anecdotes whenever feelings of guilt or shame arise over what the Winter Soldier was tortured into doing. I know it won’t be easy, and some days it won’t work. But I’d like you to try. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Bucky responded, opening his eyes and feeling lighter all of a sudden.

“Good. Well, that’s time for today. Good luck picking up your cat—though something tells me you won’t need it,” Dr. Raynor offered with a smile.

“Thanks, doc. For everything.”

“You’re very welcome, James. See you next week.”

***

For the first time since starting his sessions with Dr. Raynor, Bucky left her office with a smile on his face. He stopped at the florist stand he always walked past on his way home and bought a bouquet of daisies.

He practically ran up the three stories to your shared floor. His palms started sweating under his gloves the instant he knocked on your door.

A yawn escaped your mouth as you opened up. “Oh my gosh, hi. I’m so sorry. Oh wow, those are pretty. Got a big date lined up after this?”

Bucky chuckled, his nerves suddenly melting at your frantic style of talking and frank teasing. “Nah, I’ve just got this sweet neighbour who watched my cat for me and I wanted to thank them.”

Bucky noticed the grin creep across your face as you averted your gaze for an instant before reaching your hand out.

“Well c’mon in then. Let me get those in water. Al and I had just started Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. You’re free to join us if you like.”

Bucky closed the door behind him and instinctively took off his shoes. He didn’t know what you were talking about, but he wasn’t about to turn down your invitation.

“What’s that?”

“Uhhh, Miyazaki? Hayao Miyazaki? Studio Ghibli? Anime?” You kept broadening your reference, looking increasingly more shocked when he didn’t recognize anything you were saying.

“Sorry, I lost a lot of time between now and the 40s. Not caught up on everything yet.” Bucky stopped himself suddenly. It was the first time he’d mentioned his past to anyone outside of Sam and Dr. Raynor.

“Right, oh my gosh that was so insensitive. I’m so sorry.”

Relief flooded through his veins. Dr. Raynor was right. You obviously knew who he was and clearly didn’t mind, seeing as how you'd just invited him into your apartment. In fact, you seemed almost, well, happy about it. “‘S’alright. Why don’t you enlighten me on this Miya… Miya… whatever it is.”

Bucky sat at your kitchen island as you explained your love for a specific type of animated film from a Japanese director, all while you arranged your daisies in a simple mason jar. He could get used to watching your eyes light up as you shared your passions with him.

“Ugh, I’m babbling,” you said suddenly, breaking his fixation.

“Not at all. I asked. Besides, I love hearing about this type of stuff. You don’t read about all these subcultures in the history briefings they gave me.”

“Yeah I bet. Well, we were more or less at the beginning. Wanna see what it’s all about?”

“Sure,” Bucky accepted. His cheeks were already hurting from smiling.

“Great. You drink tea? It’s mint. I made a pot already.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Gosh, I wish people still had those 1940s manners. Go make yourself comfortable on the couch.”

Bucky blushed at the complement as he sat beside Alpine, who was curled up and purring. “My ma raised me to always be polite.”

“Well, she did a good job,” you said, filling up a mug and handing it to him. “Ready?” you asked.

Bucky leaned back into your couch. It was a lot more comfortable than his own. “Ready.”

You pressed play and Bucky settled in for what would be the most incredible film experience he’d had in his life. He didn’t know animation could look like that. He vaguely remembered seeing a cartoon rabbit, but that was in black and white. He’d never seen anything like this. He was so enthralled that he didn’t notice you had fallen asleep until the end credits began to roll. All at once Bucky remembered you had just come back from work that morning. Nice going, Barnes, he thought guiltily.

You were stretched out on the chaise part of your l-couch, so he covered you with the blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa. You stirred slightly, rolling onto your side, but you were out cold. He scribbled a message in his notebook, quietly tearing it out and then folding it in half. He left it next to the teapot before scooping up Alpine, then did the same with his shoes before he snuck out of your apartment. He paused, realising he had no way to lock the door behind him. He’d stay in today and keep an ear on your door to make sure no one entered.

***

When you woke for your shift that evening, your eyes immediately fell on the note.

Thanks for watching Alpine. And for the culture lesson. I’d like to learn more if you’re open to teaching. -Bucky

-----ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ-----

Act III

[Two months later]

“I’m so excited for this one. It’s my go-to comfort film when I’m sick or feeling down. I mean, sure, it might not be the best one, but… I dunno, there’s just something about the story that I love. And we're watching it without subtitles this time because the voiceovers are THAT good.”

“Oh wow, isn’t that sacrilege?” You knew he was teasing you. Bucky’s lips always turned up on one side and he scrunched his nose making the corners of his eyes crinkle when he was teasing you.

“Nuh-uh, not for Howl’s Moving Castle. The voices are just so right for this one.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Somewhere during the past few months the term of endearment had slipped out of Bucky’s mouth. You didn’t object and he kept on saying it. The way the nickname made your stomach perform backflips was almost unbearable. Almost.

Right from the beginning, the opening scenery of the castle moving through the fog had you swooning, as per usual. You leaned into Bucky’s shoulder and he immediately tucked you into his side.

That was also a new development you’d made together sometime during your previous movie night. The film on that night had been Spirited Away—you were taking Bucky through all the Miyazaki films in chronological order. The scene where Haku takes Chihiro to see her parents in the pigpen always got to you and you leaned into Bucky for comfort out of sheer instinct. He wrapped an arm around you, and you both stayed like that for the rest of the film.

Assuming the same position on this night, you exhaled, immediately relieved that he seemed open to it. You had agonised over the last movie night, worried that levelling up on the intimacy with Bucky had just been a one-off. Or that you’d scared him away by being too clingy? Affectionate? Too you? Well, all of those anxieties melted away as you felt his muscular hold around you tighten. Being that close, smelling him. It had you reeling like a hormone-filled teenager. I could get used to this, you thought as you relaxed into his warmth and settled your eyes back on the film.

About half way through through, something suddenly clicked in your mind. You’d never thought about it until now, but there were striking similarities between the lives of Bucky and Howl. Both were used as tools for political reasons that went against their values. Both seemed to believe they were monsters and struggled at accepting affection.

Not that Bucky had shared that with you in so many words. But through bits and pieces, you could easily glean he still felt shame about his past. You tried to show him that none of that mattered to you. You didn’t want him to think you pitied him either, but boy, did your heart hurt when you thought about everything he went through. All the history you had read. He had his life stolen from him, was tortured, and then plunked back into a completely different world. Twice, if you counted the blip. How was he still here, still fighting, still trying, and all with that wry sense of humour? You’d never fully understand, but you were grateful for it.

“How’re you liking it so far?” you asked softly, pausing the movie and pulling out from under Bucky’s arm. You wanted to check in without seeming like you were mother henning him.

“It’s really sweet. And the scenery is beautiful. I can see why you like this one the best.”

“Want a refill on your tea? Or I can get you a snack? Are you cold? I have more blankets—”

“Hey, what’s going on? You seem nervous.” He shifted his position so that you were facing each other.

You sighed seeing the concern ripple across his forehead, the thought hitting you like a ton of bricks: right, he’s a supersoldier, you can’t get anything past him.

“It’s just…”

“You can say it, sweetheart. I won’t be upset,” he assured as he took your hand. You were suddenly aware of the lack of gloves. Well that’s new. You stopped your brain from going down that corridor and refocused.

“It’s just, the rest of the movie gets a bit dark. And I forgot how much it surrounds the war and how Howl is forced to fight in a way that makes him feel like a monster and I—”

A gentle smile slowly bloomed on Bucky’s face. “You’re worried about me?”

Your cheeks warmed at the question. “Yeah,” you admitted.

“C’mere,” he whispered, opening his arm back up to you. “I promise if it’s too much I’ll tell you, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” you whispered back, resuming your previous position against his torso. Though this time, your hands were clasped. You felt him press his lips into the top of your head before he leaned his chin there. The backflips your stomach had done at the beginning started all over again, and you pressed play on the movie before you melted.

***

You were worried about him. You were worried about him. Bucky didn’t know what he was doing with you. It wasn’t like in the forties. Not by a long shot. Besides, those days of courting and going out dancing now floated around his brain like something he’d seen in a dream once but couldn’t decipher how any of it worked.

All he knew was he’d decided at the last second to not wear his gloves this time and when he took your hand with both of his, you didn’t flinch so he had to be doing something right.

Bucky didn’t let go of your hand the whole movie, except during one of the war scenes when his grip tightened enough that you had to gently ask him to loosen it. His stomach dropped at the thought that he had hurt you, but you assured him you were fine, wiggling your fingers in front of him as proof. With reluctance, he took your word for it. Though his guilt faded when you interlocked your fingers with his once more and leaned back into his chest and you started the film again.

You had been right. Something about the movie did finally get to him. Maybe it was how convinced Howl was that he would become the monster he hated. Maybe it was the fear that Sophie wouldn’t love him as he truly was. All he knew was that when Sophie told Howl to come find her in the future, disproving every worry Howl had, Bucky finally felt the dam crack. He tried to even his breathing. Tried to focus on something else. Anything else. Nothing stopped the constant steady stream of tears that began flowing down his cheeks. By the time the credits began to roll, Bucky couldn’t stop his body from shuddering with each stifled sob.

“Oh, James,” you consoled in a hushed voice, pulling him into a hug. The instant your arms were around him the entire structure snapped. The dam had broken completely and it all came rushing out. The guilt for every single person he’d killed. The grief for what he had been forced to do. The anger at HYDRA for taking away his choices and stealing his memories. The agony of losing his life. His family. Steve.

All of it gushed out of him in choked, heaving sobs, melting into a blubbering mess they way Howl melted when his hair colour potion was accidentally ruined.

The only tether to the present came from the comforting circles Bucky felt you rubbing between his shoulder blades. And your voice, offering him sweet assurances that helped ground him through the first real emotional release he had had in, well, maybe ever.

“You’re safe here. I've got you. Let it all out.”

Bucky was so grateful that you didn’t release your hold until his breathing evened out to the occasional hiccup. He was sure if you had let go even a minute sooner, he might have been carried off in the flood of his own tears, pulled under the waves, never to surface again.

When you told him you were just going to get him some tissues and a glass of water, he felt himself nod as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

Bucky gratefully accepted the tissues first before the water when you returned. He suddenly became acutely aware of the episode he’d just had in your living room and was mortified.

“Ugh, thanks,” he replied sheepishly before turning away to blow his nose. Then he took the water, downing it in one go, desperately trying to calculate the best route out of this before you could reject him. It was inevitable. There was no way you would want to continue spending time with him after witnessing this.

“Better?”

“Much,” he assured before releasing shaky sigh as he leaned back into your couch. “I’m really sorr—”

“Nope. You don’t get to finish that sentence.”

Bucky was jolted by your bluntness, and it shocked him out of his self-doubt spiral. Were you angry? He was expecting you to call it a night, maybe make an excuse about having to work, then simply stop inviting him over. But anger?

“Listen to me,” you directed with a firm tone, taking both his hands and making sure you had his gaze before continuing. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. This world has done nothing but shit on you and yet here you are feeling like you’re not even allowed to be sad sometimes. That’s fucking bullshit and I refuse to let you apologize for having emotions. You got that?”

Bucky smiled at how wrong he had been before wiping another rogue tear from his eye. He had no idea what he had done to deserve your protective kindness, but he wasn’t about to refuse it.

“Got it.”

“Okay then, I’m glad that’s settled.”

Bucky laughed, a full and hearty laugh at that. Gosh, you were something else.

“What? I wasn’t joking!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he said, still chuckling. You accepted him. You accepted him. All of him.

“Then what’s so funny?”

He loved when you got that confused, almost annoyed look on your face.

“Nothin’. Just you. It’s endearing how passionate you get.”

“Oh, I’m endearing am I?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hmmmm, well I’m glad someone thinks so. Usually my “passion” is too much for most people.”

“Now that I refuse to believe.” Bucky’s chest tightened at the thought of anyone not loving everything about you, and he squeezed your hand to emphasise his sentiments.

“It’s okay. I keep a pretty rough work schedule that’s never aligned with most people. The loner life suits me fine. Though, I’ll admit it has been nice having someone to share my time with these past few months.”

Bucky felt his heart clench as you pulled your hand away from his grasp after that confession.

“Hey, no,” he objected at the loss of contact, tugging your hand back. “Please don't pull away. I’ve really enjoyed whatever this is too.”

“Yeah?” you asked him. Your eyes were desperately searching his for assurance. Gosh, he’d get lost in your gaze if he wasn’t careful.

“Yeah,” he assured, slowly leaning towards you. This is it, Barnes. Now’s your chance.

Bucky’s phone rang, startling them both.

“Shit,” he muttered as he flipped it open. He watched your face change as Sam rattled off logistics and coordinates and timelines. He hated that he was the reason for the sudden look of disappointment on your face.

“You have to go, don’t you,” you asked when he closed the phone.

“Yeah. Probably for a while this time. I hate to ask, but—”

“James, please, you don’t even need to ask anymore. Of course I’ll watch Alpine. He and I are best buds now,” you said, petting the purring fluff ball that was curled up on your side of the couch.

“I’ll come back in a few and give you a spare a set of keys so you can grab all of his food and toys.”

“You’re… you’re leaving right away?” you asked with a surprised tone.

“Yeah, sorry. I…” he sighed before continuing, “It’s part of the job.”

His heart sank at the hint of sadness in your voice. How would this ever work? How could he do this to you every time he had to go on a mission? There’s no way you would ever be ok with this.

“No, don’t apologise. I was more worried about you having to go straight to work after that. But I get it, trust me. I know I’m nothing like a superhero, but working in a hospital I do understand urgency.”

“You’re a superhero to me, sweetheart,” he said, holding onto that thin thread of hope that maybe you really could accept him as he was, supersoldier job and all.

Bucky felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Leaning in, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek, memorising the scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin beneath his lips, the way your breath hitched at the contact. He locked those memories away where no one would ever get them before pushing himself up off the couch.

“Just come back in one piece, okay?” you ordered, looking into his eyes for assurance.

“Always do,” he offered. Whether it was for you or himself, he couldn’t say.

-----ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ-----

Act IV

[Two weeks later]

“This is not one piece, Bucky.”

Your neighbour had returned, bloody, bruised, and barely standing.

“‘S fine. I’m fine. Supersoldier, remember?” he asked, twisting his vibranium arm in the air to emphasise his point. “I’ll heal in no time.”

You were not convinced, nor comforted. “This is… fuck, Bucky. I see a lot of wounds in emerg, but this is bad.”

He winced as you passed yet another alcohol wipe over a particularly deep gash running from the middle of his forehead down to his temple. “This one needs stitches.”

“Whatever you say, nurse.”

You squinted your eyes together, sending him a disapproving glare at his attempt to lighten the situation.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. It’s part of the job. I’ve had worse.”

“Worse?! What do you… no, that’s not what this is about.” You exhaled in a frustrated huff, “I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what?” His teasing grin softened as he pulled your hands down from treating his forehead and into his lap. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“You!”

He jumped a bit at your sudden exclamation. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before finding your words again.

“Bucky, I saw the news. I saw what you and Sam were up against. You… you could have died.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. “And then Alpine and I would be…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Another word and you would fall apart.

“If something happened, I know Alpine would be fine with you.”

“Alpine?! What?” Was he seriously making light of this right now? “Bucky, do you see yourself? This isn’t a fucking joke.”

“I know, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He tried to bring your hand up to his lips, but you pulled yourself from his grip before he had the chance.

“No more talking until I’m done,” you ordered as you disinfected your hands again to pick up where you left off.

You couldn’t bear any more placating. You were seething. How could he find humour in leaving you? Bucky coming into your life had been the best thing that had ever happened to you. You finally found someone that saw you, that understood you, that seemed to truly like you for you, flaws and all. How could he joke about leaving you alone again?

Then it hit you. You weren’t really together. Sure you were friends. Maybe closer than that. But you’d never moved passed the cuddling stage. Maybe he just didn’t think of you in that way.

You felt a tear stream down your cheek as you tied the final stitch.

“There. The rest will clean off fine in a hot shower. I think I should go.”

“Hold on a second.” He grabbed your hand again, this time he wasn’t grinning. “I’m really sorry, I know this looks bad but—”

“No. I really can’t do this right now.” You tugged your hand free and got up from the makeshift nursing station you had laid out on his kitchen table. Then you took a deep breath before saying making your case, “You know, Alpine’s not the only one that would care if you didn’t come back.”

You turned on your heels and rushed out of his apartment before you broke down.

***

“Well, I really fucked that up didn’t I, Al?”

The cat responded with a single low mewl before jumping down from the chair next to where you had been sitting to go curl up on the sofa.

Bucky had assumed you would be fine seeing him banged up considering how often you encountered injuries and blood at work. Sure, he was a little more broken than usual after a mission, but he figured you’d just be happy to see him. He had completely misread the situation and now you were clearly upset.

He took his time showering, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles as he figured out the best way to finally confess how he felt about you. To make you understand that losing you—not coming back to you—that it wasn’t an option for him.

When he told Dr. Raynor how every time he tried to tell you how he felt that the words simply vanished, she suggested writing you a letter. He’d passed it off as old fashioned at the time, something that past Bucky might have done. He was trying to let his old self go, accept himself as he was now. Modern Bucky. Whoever that was.

But as he stood in the shower, hot water raining down on him, remembering the hurt in your eyes as you more or less told him how you cared about him, he knew it was the only way he could ever fully communicate exactly how much he had fallen in love with you over these past few months.

Once he was dry and dressed, Bucky rummaged through the box of files and papers S.H.I.E.L.D. had given him after he received his pardon. He found the notepad and pen that he knew was buried somewhere amongst the folders. Then pushing all the wound care supplies to one side of the table, he sat down and started writing. The words flowed without another thought and he didn’t stop until he’d signed his name at the bottom.

***

Your sobs finally slowed to the occasional hiccup. You took some deep breaths then made your way out to the kitchen for water. It wasn’t until you’d downed a glass and were turning off the lights before crawling back into bed that you noticed it. The white envelope, resting on the hardwood a few inches from your front door.

Bucky, you thought. You smiled a little, suddenly feeling sheepish at the tantrum you threw. You knew he cared about you. You felt it in the way he squeezed your hand. The way he tucked you under his arm during movies. When he had pressed his lips to your cheek the night he’d left on the mission.

You leaned down to pick up the envelope, then settled into the couch to read its contents.

Y/n,

I need to apologise. And before your brain tries to deny me of that need, please just hear me out.

I’m sorry for making you think that it didn’t matter if I came back.

I want to be honest, there was a time not that long ago when that would have been true. I would go on missions as a penance. Trying to make up for all of the bloodshed that I caused as the Winter Soldier. But I know now that it wasn’t my fault. That I don’t deserve to keep punishing myself for crimes that I had no choice in committing. The reality of it is punishment enough–something I can now accept I didn’t deserve.

But it happened. And I can’t change that. I can’t change my past or who I am today as a result. I won’t ever be able to be a regular citizen in society. I will always be connected to that life in some way because it’s what I know. But I also know a lot more now. I’ve read things and experienced things that have made me see life differently.

And so much of that is thanks to you.

Now when I go on missions, it’s not as penance but an opportunity to do something good. Not just to be better for me or for others, but to be better for you. And I’ve never felt that before, about someone else, but something about you makes me want to feel like that.

You’re the sun pushing its way between cracks in the rain clouds, casting your rays through my past and lighting up a rainbow, bringing colours into my life that I didn’t know existed until now. Until you.

I’ve fallen in love with your smile and your laughter. With the way your eyes light up when you talk about your favourite film or a new song you want to show me. With your compassionate heart and the way you always accept others as they are, no matter what they’ve come from.

I’ve fallen in love with you.

I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same, but I couldn’t bear you not knowing how much you mean to me. How I promise not to leave you alone with Alpine—I promise to come back to you. Every time. No matter how long it takes. If you’ll have me.

With love,

Your James

The waterworks were back in full force as you pressed the letter to your chest. But this time they were happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears from being overwhelmed with love for your neighbour. For the man who had been put through so much. Yet, despite it all, still wanted to find beauty in the world. Wanted to find a reason to be good. And the reason he had chosen was you.

On instinct, you rushed out your apartment door and began knocking frantically on Bucky’s.

The second it opened, your mouth crashed into his with such force you nearly knocked him over.

It was passionate and needy, your arms wrapping around his neck as you felt both his palms cup your cheeks, one hard one soft. The sensation gave you goosebumps. Your lips explored each other from every angle, making sure every supple edge was surveyed. Your tongues danced ever so softly in the background until you both finally came up for air.

“Is it fair to say that you read the letter and that this means ‘yes’?” he asked as he pressed his forehead into yours. His pupils were blown wide as you gazed into the ocean of his eyes.

“Yes, James. I’ll have you. All of you. If you’ll have me?”

“One hundred times, yes. God, I love you,” he muttered, pressing his lips into your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

“I love you too,” you whispered into his chest, breathing in his scent. This was real. He was real.

Suddenly a slew of chirps erupted from Alpine as the cat weaved its way through both of your legs.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was gloating,” Bucky chuckled.

“Hmmm, well he is the reason we’re here.”

“Maybe it was his plan all along. To bring me to you.”

“If it was, well then I owe him a thank you.” You tilted your head down towards the white feline still prancing around you both. “Thanks, Al, for bringing me my James.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, as if the words were only intended for the cat. But Bucky heard you loud and clear.

“I am yours, for as long as you’ll have me,” Bucky confirmed softly, the warmth of it heating every inch of your being. The beating of his heart echoing in your ear was all you needed to know he meant every word.

la fin

1K notes · View notes

canirove · 2 years ago

Text

Bluebell | Chapter 11

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Can I come in?" Lindsey says after knocking on my office's door.

"Yes, of course. Did the French couple already leave?"

"Yep. They were super happy, said that they will give us five stars."

"Great. What are you hiding there?"

"Just... A bottle of champagne!" she says, putting it on the table, a big grin on her face.

"What are we celebrating?"

"That this summer has been one of the best this business has ever seen" she says, struggling to open it.

"It has been a really good summer, yes." At least when it comes to Daisy's, because on my personal life...

The days after the reopening were the worst, and if it hadn't been because of my mum, Lindsey and Mrs. Smart, I would probably still be lying on my bed, feeling sorry for myself like happened when I found out about my ex cheating on me.

Mason decided to completely avoid me, which means that I haven't seen him in almost three months. Ben and Declan obviously supported him, he is their best friend. And even though we've shared some texts to check how we were doing, I haven't seen them either.

Victoria went completely crazy, telling people horrible things about me and Rúben, but especially about me. Things that weren't true, of course. Most people didn't believe her, but I've noticed how some women give me weird looks. She also tried to sabotage Daisy's, writing bad reviews online, but people didn't seem to care. One Italian woman even said to me: "two men at the same time? Good for you."

And Rúben... When I told him I had been seeing Mason while also being with him, he didn't seem to care. Now that everyone knew about us, he wanted us to properly date, to make it official. But I didn't, I wasn't ready for it. At first he didn't mind, he understood my reasons. Then we started to see each other less and less because I was either busy or too tired, and now it's been a month since the last time we were together.

"Stop thinking about men" Lindsey says, finally opening the bottle. "They are not worth it."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Let's make a toast. To being single and not wanting to mingle. To loving ourselves. Because we, come first."

"To us" I say, raising my glass.

"To us" Lindsey repeats.

"I'm going to miss you, you know?"

"It'll be just six months. Then once I've finally finished my studies, I'll come back here to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Like opening your legs for those two again."

"Lindsey!" I laugh. "But don't worry. It won't happen."

"Meow!"

"Dixie doesn't seem to agree."

"He is going to be the only man in my life for a long time. I promise" I say, petting his head and making him purr.

"Cheers to that" Lindsey says, refilling my glass.

"Are you planning on getting me drunk on your last day here?"

"Just slightly tipsy. Enough to make you sing Taylor Swift."

"That will never happen. Like ever."

"You almost quoted one of her songs, it's working!"

"Love you, Lindsey" I say, sticking out my tongue.

"Love you too, boss."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"But do I really have to go? What if a new guest comes and there is no one here to welcome them?"

"No one is coming, everyone will be at the main square singing carols" Lindsey says.

"But..."

"Don't" my mum says. "I came here to spend Christmas with my daughter and enjoy all the traditions Bluebell has, and the carols singing at the square is one of the main ones. So put on your coat, and let's go."

"Meow!" Dixie says.

"Fine, ok, I'm going. You all are clearly against me. You included" I say, pointing at Dixie. He just meows again, curling into a ball on the sofa.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I'm gonna miss him when he leaves" Mrs. Smart says with a big sigh while looking at Rúben. He's at the stage they've set for the town's choir, getting everything ready to start the singing. And, of course, he looks like he just came from a fashion magazine, looking stupidly handsome with his beanie, his scarf, his coat...

"Is it true that he won't be running for the re-election, then?" my mum asks. That had been the latest rumour in town, that Rúben wanted a change, and his days as Mayor were over.

"In this town, rumours usually become true" Mrs. Smart says.

"And what is he going to do?"

"I guess he'll go back to being a lawyer. Maybe move to the city" she shrugs.

"Are you guys in the mood for some hot chocolate" I say. I need to think about anything that isn't Rúben leaving.

"Oh, I would love that" my mum says.

"Make it three" Mrs. Smart replies. "Lindsey?"

"I'm in" she says. "Do you want company?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Merry Christmas, Miss Daisy."

"Bloody hell, Declan!"

"I thought you would be used to it by now" he laughs.

"I've lost practice."

"Yeah... I've missed scaring you."

"You are so thoughtful" I say with a fake smile, picking the tray with our hot chocolates.

"Dec, have you seen... Oh, hi. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mason” I say. What is it with men wearing beanies today? Why do they all look so damn good?

"I'm gonna go get our chocolates" Declan says, leaving us alone.

"How are you?"

"Good, good" Mason says. "I've heard Daisy's is doing really well."

"It is, yes."

"Great. I think I saw your mum with the Smarts?"

"Yep. We are spending Christmas with them."

"Good luck" Mason chuckles. "They love Christmas."

"Oh, I know, Lindsey warned me. What about you?"

"The whole family is back, so I don't have time to get bored."

"The babies too?" I ask. Just before I arrived in town, Mason's parent's had traveled to the United States to be with his sister, who had given birth to twins a few months before their due date.

"Yes, they also came."

"Oh, that's amazing, Mason! I'm so glad they were able to travel."

"Yeah, I'm very happy" he says with that smile of his that shows his dimple, making me smile as well. "Anyway, I gotta go help Dec. We are getting hot chocolates for both our families."

"Yeah, sure. I should also probably take this to the girls."

"It was nice seeing you again."

"You too, Mase."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What took you so long?" Lindsey says when I make it back.

"The queue" I shrug.

"Could I please have your attention?" Rúben says from the stage. "Thank you. Thank you all for coming to our traditional Christmas carols singing. I can see that some of you are already enjoying that hot chocolate, so don't be shy, and maybe have another cup. Remember that it is for a good cause."

"I wonder if he'll have one too" I say under my breath, Lindsey being the only one who hears me. "Keeping that body in shape and drinking chocolate..."

"I myself will be having one" he says as if hearing me, making Lindsey laugh next to me. "Hope you enjoy this year's selection of songs, the choir has been rehearsing for a long time. And remember that you can and should sing as well" he says with a charming smile. "Thank you very much for coming, and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas" everyone repeats.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Should we get something to eat?" Mrs. Smart says.

"Oh, please. That chocolate made me hungrier than I was" my mum says.

"You go ahead, I'll take this to the bin" I say, taking all the cups from them.

"Merry Christmas."

"Fuck!" I say, the lid of the bin falling on my finger.

"I'm so sorry, are you ok?" Rúben says, quickly taking my hand on his.

"I think so, yes" I say, my finger throbbing.

"We should have someone check it."

"It's fine, it's..." I say, trying not to cry.

"C'mon, we have some paramedics at the back on the square just in case something happens."

"Like getting your finger crushed by the bin's lid because you got scared?" I laugh. Though my laugh sounded more like a whimper.

"Exactly that" he says, putting one arm around my shoulders while still holding my hand.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I'm afraid you're gonna need an x-ray" the paramedic says.

"What? Really?"

"It is too swollen right now, but you may have broken it. What happened?"

"It was an accident, it doesn't matter" Rúben says. "Can you give her something for the pain?"

"Yes, of course. But you should go home and rest. Go to the hospital tomorrow."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"You didn't have to walk me home, you know?"

"And leave you alone while being in pain and also drugged? No way" Ruben says, his arm back to being around my shoulders.

"My mum could have done it. Or Lindsey."

"And ruin all the fun they were having?"

"They probably are wondering where I am."

"You can text them when we make it back to Daisy's, don’t worry."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy. The painkillers are starting to kick in."

"Then it's time to go to bed" Rúben says, picking me up from the sofa where we were watching tv. I had forgotten how easily he could carry me around.

“Meow!” Dixie complains.

“What?” Rúben tells him.

“I think he is pissed because you woke him up when you moved. Maybe also because I told him he would be the only man in my life, yet here we are.”

“Do you think he’ll try to attack me?” he says, still holding me in his arms.

“He might… But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“With your broken finger?”

“Meh, meh, meh.”

“C´mon, let’s get you to bed” he laughs as he starts walking, Dixie following us.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Do you need anything else?" Rúben asks once I've changed and already in bed.

"Can you stay until I fall sleep? You broke my finger, I think I deserve it" I say, pouting.

"Ok, fine" he says, trying not to smile. Pouting always worked with him.

"Here" I say, opening the bed and asking him to lay next to me.

"Spooning?"

"Yep."

"What if your mum comes in and sees us?" he says as he gets in.

"Oh well" I say as I try to shrug, his arm already around me. It had been weeks since the last time we were together like this, but it felt like it had been just a few hours. "This feels nice" I say, my eyes starting to close.

"It does" he says before kissing my neck, that feeling and those two words being the last thing I remember before I fall sleep.

#mason mount #ruben dias #mason mount fanfic #ruben dias fanfic #mason mount x reader #ruben dias x reader #mason mount imagine #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

75 notes · View notes

lyon-amore · 2 years ago

Text

Mr and Mrs Liars Chapter 17

Chapter 16 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Jake POV*

"Well, well, well... You don't really get tired, do you?" I ask, looking at the bed with a smile. The little cat meows at me, rolling around in my sweatshirt, covering it with fur. I had found him after lunch with Aleena, I refused to let her bring me home, I didn't want her to know where I lived. So, as I was walking back, I came across this little guy jumping out of nowhere scared by the sound of a truck. He had held on tight and I had to bring him. Afterwards, I took him to the vet to check if he had any identification chips. When he said no, he told me that I could leave him with him to take him to a shelter and well... I think his look of pity ended up giving me up completely. So now I have a cat. Though I didn't expect him to be so mischievous. I had left him alone for a moment while I had gone to get food for him. And when I returned, everything was all on the floor. And I had bought a toy for him because I thought he was a good cat. MC had sent me the message that she had the real name of Oskar Neumann, since I had been with the cat, I told her that I was busy along with a photo. I was sure that she would like it when she returned. "Let's see Gizmo, one thing is you can be on top of my sweatshirt, but not that you destroy my house." I cross my arms, frowning. Gizmo meows again, stretching out, Who was a Cat? I hear the front door, along with MC's voice complaining. "What happened here?! Couldn't you be less of a beast?!" I hear her yell, annoyed. "MC, in my room!" I call for her to come, without taking my eyes off the cat. "Are you crazy? I'm not joining!" "Join?" I pick up the cat carefully, the little one snuggles into the crook of my neck, purring, "What are you talking about?" I ask as I leave the room, "why don't you want to join?" "Well-" she remains silent, looking at the cat. She points to it, confused, not understanding what is happening "Why do you have a cat?" "I sent you a photo. Didn't you get it?" "What? No, I thought by busy you meant-" She blushes and looks away, kicking off her heels. "It doesn't matter, maybe WhatsApp fell just at the moment you wanted to send me the message." So she thought I was "busy" with Aleena. I don't know how she came to that conclusion, but I love it. “What's they name?” she asks, reaching out to caress him. "Gizmo," I replied, as I watched her pet him. Her eyes never leave the cat and she says sweet things to him. The scene looks like we're having a baby "how's work?" "It was easy." She finishes stroking Gizmo and walks away. "I'm going to make myself comfortable and we'll talk about what I've discovered." "Okay, I'm going to put the little one's food now." As soon as we finished, we sat on the sofa together with some cups of coffee. Gizmo gets to play with one of the mice I bought, jumping around the house as he throws it. We stared at it for a while, mesmerized. "Well... how was the date?" MC asks me, smiling. “It wasn't a date." "Are you ashamed to admit it?" “I'm not ashamed because it wasn't” I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow “and I haven’t yet to speak to Thomas for giving her my phone number. You are both great, congratulations, you have done it: I have a woman obsessed with me on my cell phone." "You'll get used to it." <<So we have those... Okay.>> "Mmm… Maybe so, at least she was nice enough and she's pretty, I admit it, I've had a good time with her." I watch her expression change from teasing to surprised, but not happy. "I asked about Oskar Neumann at work." She quickly changes the subject, ignoring my words. "Real name: Ansel Laurent. He did dangerous reporting: prostitution, smuggling, street gangs... I wouldn't be surprised if he also got into the middle of some mafia." "Ansel Laurent…" I try to remember if I've ever heard Charlotte talk about him, but nothing. That name was new to me "We'll have to look it up then. Do you know anything else about him?" "He had a wife who, shortly after he disappeared, was found dead in their house, murdered after a robbery." She blew on her coffee and looked at me mysteriously. "Too much of a coincidence, right?" "It would be if it wasn't that they found Ansel unrecognizable." I commented, picking up the computer to start searching. Like last night, MC leans on my shoulder to watch the search for Ansel Laurent. We found his social networks, he had a good life, it seemed that he and his wife traveled a lot. His wife's name was Heidi Plummer. Her social networks were full of the same photos as her husband, except that she was added with some others with the family. "Let's find information about his murder." I commented, typing in the key words. "But if his wife didn't want to know anything about her husband's work out of fear, why go after her?" MC asks, tickling my ear with her breath "No one would have known who she was since Ansel used another name." "And again we return to the theory of the police." "Where Ansel must have cooperated to protect him," she murmurs thoughtfully. "And that you can clearly identify someone if you steal his ID before you kill him and find out about him and his life." I give a hit to the news and we begin to read it. It seemed that her murder was excruciating, with too much blood throughout the house, as if she had been running, fleeing from her attackers. They managed to arrest one and now he was in jail. "Jan Parker." I read the name of our criminal out loud. "Something tells me we have to pay another visit." I look sideways at MC, who reads carefully. I get to read her lips pronounce the name of the prison. "It's the same one where Richy is being held." "Great…" I make a guttural sound, annoyed. I hadn't forgiven him for what he'd done by kidnapping Hannah. If he had also accepted the blame for him having participated in helping them, then none of this would have happened. The only difference is that Hannah was defended by a good lawyer, with the excuse that after running over Jennifer, her state of shock was so great that it affected her, causing mental health problems. Hannah wasn't proud of her defense and pleaded guilty herself, but everyone saw the poor girl carrying a load of guilt for years, adding to her mental state at the time. MC informed me of everything that was happening at that time, she also didn’t like the excuse given by the lawyer, along with the psychologist who took her. Dr. Barrett supported her that her trauma came from the same date that Jennifer's murder occurred. Unfortunately, Richy's lawyer wasn't that good, and the fact that he had kidnapped Hannah to avoid part of her guilt didn't make people look good on him. "Jake..." MC whispers, squeezing my shoulder tightly "I have to tell you something." "What is it?" I ask worried, taking his hand that was now trembling "You know you can tell me everything.” She takes a breath and looks me in the eye. “I've been seeing Richy in jail for several years.” I tense up, unable to think. How several years was she talking about? One year? Two? "MC, if you're going to tell me you saw that guy while we were together-" “I'm so sorry, Jake, really.” I get up from the couch, angry with her. She didn't have to keep it from me, but she had. Little confidence in me. "Jake, wait a minute." MC follows me, but I close my bedroom door in his face. I really feel betrayed. *MC POV* Someday I had to tell him. And that day was today. I already knew how he was going to react, Why am I surprised? I return to the sofa, curling up in a ball. I should have shut up. I feel pressure in my body and look up. Gizmo is lying on top of me. I pet his head and he purrs. "I'm fine, don't worry…" I tell the cat, who curls up to sleep. Now I dare not get up. “MC?” I look up at Jake. I hadn't even heard that he had left the room “I have to ask." I get up grabbing the cat, but he jumps out of my arms when he finds himself awake, lying next to me. "Do you want to know why I was going?" "MC, he wanted to take you to the mine. Who knows what he was going to do to you?" "You talk like Jessy." "Because he also attacked Jessica!" He leans against the sofa, looking into my eyes “And he did it to threaten you that he would continue doing it if you continued investigating, remember? He is not someone you should be sorry for." "I don't pity him." I close my hands until I hurt myself. He has confused everything. "The problem is, I'm terrified of him telling me why he wanted me to go, when was he going to let Hannah go and pretend he was saving her? When I was inside the mine and burning it down or when I was waiting for them outside it?" "Instead, you keep him company every time you go to see him." I can hear in his voice how disappointed he is in me. If each one had known how to take the blame for themself, none of this would have happened. We wouldn't be here arguing about whether what I'm doing with Richy is good, bad, or whether we should forgive him. "If that doubt is torturing you all these years, you should stop asking yourself and ask him." He squats down, taking my hands lovingly. I squeeze his hands tightly, seeking the support that I would have liked years ago if it weren't for the fact that I feared his reaction. I saw it today and I didn't want to disappoint him like that. "What do I do if he tells me that he wanted me to burn in the mine?" I ask terrified "All so that our investigation would be lost and thus no one would know the truth?" "Well, it would be the first time in years that I'd punch someone." He replies with a charming smile. I let out a small laugh, grateful for his support. I caress his cheek affectionately, and then kiss him on it. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. "Better not or they'll arrest you." I teased, trying to get back into a normal frame of mind. "But it will have been worth it." We both get up standing up, with the most relaxed atmosphere. Gizmo's sleeping purr is so loud that we are surprised. We laugh when we see it. "Well, you can always be the old man with the cats if you don't want to have anything to do with Aleena." I say, giving him a quizzical look. Jake sighs, putting a hand to the back of his neck, looking at the cat almost like he's looking at his child. He's adorable. "Well, with how big the apartment is, at least I won't feel alone surrounded by cats," he teases, letting out a small laugh. "Good and now we take care of Jan? We have wasted too much time." "I'm sorry…" "No, don't worry, I'm glad we talked about it." He sits on the sofa and picks up the computer, then looks at me. "I must assume that you must know how to request a meeting with him." "They already know me in prison, I'm not going to deny it." I sit down next to him again, placing my hands in my lap. "But I think with Jan we should call attention so that he agrees to see us." "You're thinking of naming Ansel, right?" He arches an eyebrow and hands me the computer. "It's better to do it, I have a feeling he'll want to see us if it's him." I look for the jail page to print the petition. Jake gets up to plug in the printer and I can see him looking at me. "Have you already talked to Thomas about giving your number to Aleena?" I ask, to keep my mind occupied with something other than just him. "Not yet, I haven't found the time." "Have you two talked about me?" I ask curious. Maybe I should keep quiet, do I really want to hear what they have said about me? "Nothing bad, I promise you." "And the last question" I turn to look at him and take a breath, nervous "Would you go on a second date with her?" He puts a hand to his chin, thinking about the answer. The longer it takes to answer me, the more I worry. He told me that at the moment he didn't want to date anyone. Would he have changed her mind? "No, I don't think I'm going to go out with her again," he finally answers "but what if it were like that?" "So that you tell me in advance to put another plate for the wedding banquet," I answered, shrugging. "I need to know if you will come with a companion." "I won't be able to go, I have work that day." "Okay, but don't forget your promise-" "The gift bed, I know." I know perfectly well that he doesn't know what day it is and that he doesn't know if he'll have a day off that day either, he doesn't want to come and I understand. I get that it's pretty awkward when your ex invites you to her wedding, but I wanted to be polite. Besides, I don't want Lilly or Hannah getting mad at me for not inviting her brother. Which reminds me, then I have to text Phil that I'm okay. Problems accumulate. *Jake POV* While she writes the jail petition, I decide to cook dinner for both of us. Gizmo stands up meowing asking me to eat. I roll my eyes. He is a gluttonous cat. "You have food on your plate and you can't eat this," he meows passing between my legs, trying to convince me, "What do you think Gizmo? Will she be jealous of my “date” with Aleena? Incredible true? She's getting married and she's upset that I been with another woman, when she's the one who's thrown me into her arms." "Meow." "Yes, I don't understand it either." I answer as if I understood him. MC is right: I'm going to become the old man of the cats. "I just think that… I don't need another woman in my life. That’s it. I want to focus on getting my old life back, reconnecting with my old friends... I still haven't told them that I'm back... But I will." I move the spoon while looking at the cat, again, as if I really knew what I was saying "Even if they kill me for not having contacted them as soon as I was free..." "Who's going to kill you?" MC enters the kitchen and leans on my shoulder. "I was telling Gizmo that my friends are going to be mad at me as soon as they find out I didn't contact them first." "If I were them, I'd be angry too," she lets out a laugh that leaves me distracted. I would listen to it on loop. "Jake, dinner.” "Sorry.” She sighs and reaches down to pet Gizmo. I must not be distracted... I like this scene but I must not be distracted. "I thought that as an apology, I let you choose what to watch today.” MC she gets up, placing her hands on her hips, smiling proudly at me. "You're going to fall asleep as soon as I put on the movie," I answered, smiling mischievously "you always do it after a day's work." "I promise not to fall asleep," MC raises her hand as a promise "I'll watch the entire movie and then we'll discuss it." "Words are carried away by the wind, MC and I know you're going to fall asleep as soon as the first words appear, you're predictable." She taps me on the shoulder and I laugh "Do you want to try how dinner is turning out?" "Yes, let's see how you are, Mr. Chef." I pick up a spoon and make her taste it. She closes her eyes savoring, even licking the remains that remain on her lips. I want to be able to make them mine… << No, remember what you promised yourself, you have to forget her. Why does it cost you so much? >> "Well?" “Jake, if you ever get fired, dedicate yourself to cooking." "That's exaggerating." "No, I really mean it." She picks up another spoon and offers the food to me. “Try it." "Don't feed me." "Why? You can do it but I can't?" I sigh and end up accepting. I had tried it before but now, it tasted better. Maybe because she's giving it to me. "Am I right or not?" she asks. "Yes, yes... Go to setting the table, please, don't fool around, I'm making dinner." I teased, continuing with the cooking. "What? I've been working" the joke continues before leaving. I smile and Gizmo meows at me, almost as if he was reproaching me for what was happening in my mind when I saw her leave the kitchen. “Oh come on, I wasn't looking at her.” I reply, rolling my eyes. <<Little by little, I’m transforming into the old man of the cats. >> After dinner, we decided to put on a movie to relax from these crazy days we've had. But just as I guessed, MC fell asleep on my lap, exhausted after a day's work. I stroked her hair gently, observing her peaceful expression. "I wish every day could be like this…" I whispered. Her mobile screen lights up, a couple of messages appear on it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Phil I'm glad to hear that you did well today at work Rest well Princess, you deserve it ;) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That message gives me a blow to reality. Carefully, I took MC in my arms, to take her to her bed. Gizmo follows us and jumps onto her bed as he carefully lays her down. MC smiles hugging the pillow, but it's what she says in her sleep that surprises me the most. "I love you Jake…" she whispers as I tuck her in. Am I crazy or did she really say it? Chapter 18

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood phil #duskwood phil x mc #duskwood richy #duskwood thomas #duskwood dan #duskwood jessy #duskwood cleo #duskwood hannah #duskwood lilly #duskwood fanfic #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #everbyte game #everbyte studios #everbyte

22 notes · View notes

bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

Note

Jonmartin with 20 or 76 for the kiss prompts!

kiss prompt list!

20 - surprised kiss | 76 - top of head kisses

this is both! ft. domestic married jmart in a no-supernatural au

A small mmrp! is the only warning Martin gets before something very fluffy and very orange jumps onto the kitchen counter beside him.

“Hey, no,” Martin chides, scooping the as-yet-unnamed cat into his arms and lowering him gently to the ground. He points a stern finger at the small, curious face staring up at him and says, “I know you’re new here, but you’ll have to learn the house rules eventually. And I know I’ll have to be the one to enforce them, because the moment Jon sees your cute little face he’s going to just- just let you do whatever you please.”

The cat lets out another mmrp before rubbing his face affectionately against Martin’s leg.

“Right,” Martin says with a soft smile, crouching down and scratching underneath the cat’s chin. “You haven’t met him yet, but Jon’s going to love you. You’re just going to have to- to look at him and he’ll love you.” Quieter, to himself, Martin mumbles, “I hope he’ll love you.”

A cat isn’t a typical anniversary gift, sure, but it’s not like they hadn’t been talking about it. They’d looked into a few shelters, made a list of the things they’d need to buy in order to make their flat pet-friendly, but Jon’s workload had increased drastically a few weeks ago and discussions had fallen to the wayside. Martin had spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time scanning through Jon’s meticulous notes about preferred breeds, ages, and dispositions before spending an even more ridiculous amount of time visiting every shelter within a 50-kilometer radius of them.

He may also have two cardboard boxes full of cat toys, food, litter, and other items stowed away in the back of the linens closet. He’s nothing if not prepared.

The quiet thump of paws on marble drags Martin out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see the cat stood atop the counter again, tail swishing back and forth with excitement.

“No,” Martin says, standing and lifting the cat carefully up so he can look him firmly in the eyes. “We do not jump on the counter. The counter is where we cook, and Jon stress-cleans enough as it is—we don’t need to give him the extra incentive.”

The cat’s mouth stretches open in a wide yawn, revealing rows of sharp teeth, before blinking passively at him.

“Right,” Martin says again with a resigned nod. He tucks the cat against his chest experimentally, feeling the rumbling purr against his skin, and presses his nose into the soft orange fur on the nape of the cat’s neck. “Did you know that Jon and I got married a year ago today? Oh, of course not, you're a cat. Well, we did. Honestly, though, it- it feels like yesterday. Things since then have just been… nice. Christ, so nice, and- and I love him, you know? You’re going to love him too—he’s got this, like, this thing where cats just adore him on sight. Tim likes to call him the ‘cat whisperer,’ and Jon pretends like it annoys him because, heh, you know, otherwise it would go right to Tim’s head, but Jon adores you guys. With your- your little paws, and your little ears, and your- ow, ow, your claws—"

Martin gently, yet gracelessly, lets the cat spill free from his arms and onto the lino. He rubs at his arm, gives the cat a stern look, and says, “Is that any way to treat your father?”

The cat looks up at him and meows loudly.

“Don’t talk back,” Martin says with faux disappointment, crossing his arms across his chest. After a moment, his resolve breaks, and he bends down to scratch between the cat’s ears gently, a fond smile spreading across his face.

Martin’s halfway back to standing when the doorknob rattles. His first thought is oh, Jon’s home early. Then: wait, Christ, nothing’s ready yet. Then: shit, the cat!

Martin’s reflexes are, predictably, less acute than the fluffy apex predator who’s currently making his way to the front door at breakneck speed, meowing loudly enough that Martin’s sure Jon can already hear it through the still-closed door. Martin has just enough time to take a few, anxious steps toward the door before it swings open and Jon shoulders his way through, arms laden with stacks of folders and books and papers. Martin decides that he'll chide Jon for bringing work home on their anniversary later and instead prioritizes coming up with a speech he thought he still had several hours to prepare in approximately five seconds.

“Oh, hello,” Jon says, kicking the door shut behind him and rearranging the pile of work in his hands so it doesn’t slip. “Elias let me go early—albeit with a mountain of paperwork, good Lord—so I thought I’d…”

He trails off as a small, insistent mmrp! cuts through the air. Martin squeezes his eyes shut and says, quietly, “Ah, right. That’s… that’s nice of him?”

“I… I suppose,” Jon says, sounding a bit lost. There’s a shuffling noise, and Martin opens his eyes a crack to see Jon depositing the stack of papers on the side table by the couch before turning, slowly, back to the cat. “Is… sorry, I- I’m not… is there meant to be a cat in our flat?”

The cat meows, and Martin says weakly, “Happy anniversary?”

“Oh,” Jon says. Then, after a moment, his mouth curves into a small smile, and he repeats, softly, “Oh.”

Jon crouches down and shifts so he’s kneeling on the ground, sitting back on his heels that way Martin’s never been flexible enough to do. “Hello,” he says quietly, holding out a hand for the cat to sniff. “And who might you be?”

“He doesn’t have a name yet,” Martin says, still reeling from the abruptness of the last thirty seconds. “I- I thought… you might like to name him?”

Jon hums in thought, letting the cat push his head into his hand before beginning to scratch gently underneath his chin. “I… I don’t really know,” he says. “Georgie was always the one who was good at naming, I- I just sort of went along with it for the Admiral.”

“Could always go generic,” Martin suggests, feeling his heart swell with affection as the cat yawns again and Jon’s face lights up. “You know, like- like Whiskers, or…”

Jon gives Martin an unimpressed look. “Certainly not. That would be like naming our child… Leg, or something equally ridiculous.”

Martin tries to ignore the way his heart stutters at the words our child and says, in a small voice, “Yeah, that… that would be silly.”

Jon’s expression folds into something soft and fond, and he says, “I’ve… I’ve always been partial to Clarence, if… if that’s all right with you, I suppose.”

Something must show on Martin’s face, because Jon quickly clarifies, “For- for the cat, that is, not, er- not for a… an actual child—”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Martin says quickly, his cheeks growing hot.

“—because- because Clarence isn’t really- well, it’s, it’s not bad, it’s just, I don’t—”

“—absolutely, yes, I- I agree, one-hundred percent—”

“—just, just for… for the cat.”

“Mm-hmm,” Martin says in a high-pitched voice, fully giving up on pretending like his face isn’t flushed a bright red. His mouth twitches up into a smile, almost against his will, and he says, “For the cat. Of course.”

“Of course,” Jon echoes. The moment of silence between them is broken by an accusatory meow, and Jon’s laugh at that is something that Martin wants to bottle up and treasure forever. “My apologies, Clarence,” he says, scooping the cat up in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I wasn’t giving you nearly enough attention. A grievous error on my part.”

“You’re going to spoil him,” Martin says teasingly. “He’ll be insufferable.”

Clarence lets out a happy chirp of agreement.

Carefully, Jon stands, Clarence still tucked securely in his arms, and steps closer so he can press a soft, lingering kiss to Martin’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispers, pulling back just enough that he can rest his forehead against Martin’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Martin says.

There’s a disgruntled mmrp, and Jon’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “I love you as well,” he says, giving Clarence another kiss on the top of his head. Then, teasingly: “Maybe even a bit more than your father.”

Martin lets out a long, exaggerated groan. “I can’t believe this. Less than five minutes in our home and you’re already stealing my husband from me.” He reaches over and scratches Clarence’s belly fondly. “Disrespectful. Utterly abhorrent.”

Clarence makes a pleased little noise before starting to purr audibly.

“We’ll need food,” Jon says absently, one hand scratching underneath Clarence’s chin. “Litter, bowls, toys…”

Martin grins, a bit giddily. “Oh, way ahead of you.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #guinevere01 #my writing #my fic

419 notes · View notes

goldencuffs · 4 years ago

Text

untraditional

@lamenweek day five: traditions

Damen doesn’t think he’s supposed to feel so bone-weary at thirty-one.

Everything in his body aches, and he’s already greying at his temples. Last night, he had gone to bed at eight.

Theomedes doesn’t look up from the Ios Financial Times when Damen enters the Drawing Room. The table already has been set: Damen’s seat is, as usual, is to the left of his father, exactly fourty-seven centimetres apart. Damen’s food has been already served, because his father got here before him, and everyone gets served the same time as Theomedes.

Damen’s entire life has been dictated by these traditions, guidelines and precedents.

Some of them are good, but most of them are like this: nonsensical and elitist.

Even Theomedes’ and Damianos’ tea is prepared via strict protocol: one teaspoon of loose tea leaves per cup, heated to a hundred degrees celcius (seventy for green tea), with a tablespoon of organic, raw honey added straight to the teapot.

(It’s amazing tea, though).

Theomedes says, “Your food is cold.”

Damen stares at the pile of mash potatoes and salmon. “I’m not hungry.”

He also hates salmon, but Theomedes is the only one who sets the menu for the week with the head chef. Last week, they had roast beef and vegetables four times.

“You’re not still sulking are you?” Theomedes finally says, three minutes later.

Damen grips his table fork. He forces himself to do the breathing exercises Makedon had taught him.

In an ideal world, he wouldn’t reply, but in this one, everyone answered to the King.

“No, sir,” Damen says, and shoves a polite bite of food in his mouth.

“You haven’t had a meal with me in three weeks,” Theomedes says, and he sounds hurt and disappointed.

“Hmm,” Damen says. “I’ve been busy. You know I’ve been working on the preservation of Marlas with Nikandros.”

Theomedes crosses his fork and knife over his plate. Instantly, three different staff members rush forward to clear the table.

Damen’s plate is cleared too; no one eats after the King has left. Another useless, bane tradition.

“You know I did what’s best for you,” Theomedes says, looming over Damen.

When Damen nods, Theomedes kisses his temple. “You’ll realise it sooner, rather than later.”

“Yes, sir,” Damen says quietly, and rises only after Theomedes has left, as is protocol.

An hour later, the itch under Damen’s skin becomes unbearable, and he finds himself burrowing under the left corner of his mattress for certain… supplies.

He pulls on the red, shoulder-length curly wig with little care, and then the faux-leather beret. It’s peeling and terrible, but Damen doesn’t care.

The rest of his outfit is just layers: sunglasses, two coats, scarves, and a muted shirt, to hide as much of his body as possible.

He normally doesn’t leave so early in the day, when he’s being patrolled by guards and the Kyros.

Luckily, it’s only Nikandros who catches him, right outside his door.

His expression is flat. “You’re not serious. You’re leaving now? We’re in the middle of drafting the Delpha treaty!”

Damen shrugs. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to—” Nikandros cuts himself off with a sigh. “Whatever. Can you please bring me back those caramel slices?”

Damen grins. “You got it, boss.”

Once he’s past the Main Foyer, the rest of the journey is easy: Damen takes an hour and a half train ride from Central Ios to Andris, and then a fifteen minute bus ride on the eighty-six. And then finally, an eight minute walk to the Andris Office District.

There’s a small bookstore there called Pocket Bookmark, painted emerald green, the lettering done in gold.

Inside, it’s not too busy: it’s not quite the end of a business day, and the customers in here are high school students, skimming the Shakespeare section, and a man hovering near the new releases.

Damen keeps his head down, weaving through the aisles.

Nicaise, the mouthy teenage cashier rolls his eyes when he sees Damen approaching, lifting up the wooden flap on on the bench, allowing Damen to duck through.

“Thanks, kid,” Damen says, mussing his hair.

“Ah, fuck off,” Nicaise grunts, but fondly. He’s warmed up to Damen ever since Damen bought him his first car. (Nothing too flashy, obviously).

Damen hurries all the way to the back, opening the door marked, No entry, and then goes up the narrow steps, which always make the worst creaking noises.

There’s another door a the small porch upstairs, and Damen fishes out the key in his pocket to open it.

Instantly, he’s hit with the smell of butter chicken simmering on the stove, and his mouth salivates. He dumps his entire attire by the small settee in the hallway, inhaling gratefully.

The second thing he’s greeted with is Wendy, who meows and claws at his leg.

“Come here, baby,” Damen murmurs, picking her up and holding her to his chest. She purrs and curls up, like a big ball of fluff and he kisses her head. “I love you so much.”

She meows in response, and snuggles closer.

Laurent turns off the stove in the tiny kitchen. He looks over his shoulder for just a second and scrunches his nose. “Ugh, she’s such a slut. I’ve been petting her for the last hour, but apparently I’m just not good enough.”

Laurent is in his after work attire: which means he’s as half dressed as possible. The shirt he’s wearing is one of Damen’s, and his shorts are the pair that shrunk in the wash; they ride too high up his thigh.

Laurent’s just come out of the shower: the hair at his nape is still wet, and his skin is pinked and glowing. Even with the curry, Damen can smell jasmine and coconut.

Laurent has got this sweet, soft smile that lights up his eyes.

It takes Damen’s breath away: not just Laurent, but this entire picture of domesticity. It’s all Damen’s wanted his entire life.

He means to make a snarky comment about Wendy, but what comes out is: “Marry me.”

Laurent drops the wooden spoon, eyes wide.

Damen grips Wendy too tightly and she lets out a shriek and jumps out of his arms.

They stare at each other for a moment. Damen’s heart is racing.

Laurent blinks. “Oh, sorry. I think I hallucinated for a minute.”

Damen steps forward, smiling. “It wasn’t a hallucination. Marry me.”

Laurent makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “Are you asking me or telling me?” He swallows, eyes darting all over Damen’s face, his body. “I don’t see a ring,” he says quietly.

Damen groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I know. I had this whole plan, I was going to propose with the Queen’s ring, but obviously I’d have to talk to my father first and—” He sits down at the kitchen table, pulling out his phone. “There’s a courthouse ten minutes from here. It’s Thursday night, so they’re still open. We just need to show up with a signed ‘Intended Marriage Certificate’. It’s like three pages, we’ll be fine.”

“…Oh.” Laurent has gone very still. “You’re looking up courthouses. You’re serious.”

“Shit,” Damen says, watching him. “I’m so sorry. You—Do you want to marry me, Laurent? Because I’ve been dying to marry you since I first saw you. Er. No pressure, though.”

Laurent glares at him, affronted. “Of course I want to marry you, you fucking idiot!”

Damen leaps to his feet, grinning and flushed. “Fuck yeah! Let’s go print this form and—”

“Damen!” Laurent laughs, looking a little crazed. “We can’t just—Just wait a minute.”

“Alright. Shoot, baby.”

Predictably, Laurent flushes pink. “Is it even legal? Aren’t there special ceremonies for royals? And—and the King still thinks we broke up!”

Damen winces a little at that.

After an entire year of sneaking around, of meeting up in discreet hotels, and making plans to move in together one day, Damen had fucked up three weeks ago.

Drunk and enamoured, he had kissed Laurent outside his bookstore after a date. There had been photos—and the only saving grace had been the fact that Laurent’s face had been inscrutable.

But the fact that he was a commoner had been enough for Theomedes to unleash his rage. He had ordered Damen to break things off with Laurent, and Damen had pretended to, but… Well, Laurent had been hurt. It had been the first time he had realised how shaky their entire relationship was, how quickly it could come crumbling down.

Damen had spent days convincing him otherwise, and Laurent had finally agreed, but there had still been shadows in his eyes.

Now—now, though, Damen realises exactly what he can do, what he should have done months ago, to make Laurent realise he’s it.

“Fuck the King,” Damen says. He finally closes the distance between them, gripping Laurent’s hands. “Laurent, listen. I can still get married legally in a civil ceremony.”

“But—” Laurent bites his lip. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. And,” His voice grows small. “I know there’s so many rules and traditions you have to follow. I’ve read about the whole tradition where your father is supposed to gift you a diptych piece.”

Damen’s heart is warm. He smiles down at Laurent, smitten. “You’ve read up on royal wedding traditions?”

Laurent colours even more. “Of course.”

Damen kisses him hard, unable to bare the love swelling up inside him. Laurent flings his arms around Damen’s neck, his mouth emitting small, sweet gasps.

When they pull apart, Damen presses his forehead to Laurent’s. “Fuck the King,” he repeats. “Fuck the customs and rules and traditions. You are the only thing that matters to me. Just forget everything for a moment and answer: do you want to go downtown and marry me?”

Laurent’s smile overtakes his face, his eyes shining. “Yes,” he says softly. “I want to—so much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you in a better way or give you a ring or—”

“Stop. This was absolutely perfect.” He sighs. “You’re perfect.”

Damen kisses him again, pressing him to the counter. “I want you to have my mother’s ring.”

Laurent buries his head into Damen’s chest, overwhelmed. He nods.

Damen drops a kiss to his hair. “Get changed, baby. We’re getting married.”

Laurent looks up at him in wonder. “We’re getting married.”

#yes this is rushed what about it!!!!! 🤧😤#just kidding i still hope u enjoy #lamen week 2021 #captive prince #my writing #my fic

186 notes · View notes

all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years ago

Text

I love you meow and furever

summary: the hard part about having animals is knowing we’re their whole life but they’re only here for a small part of ours.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with some fluff, mentions of death (of a pet) and grieving a loss.

a/n: hello again! i know i haven’t posted in a while and i’m sorry! i’ve been writing some pieces, trying to make longer one shots and whatnot, hopefully those will be out soon enough. the reason why i’m posting this is because recently my childhood cat passed away and i wrote this trying to feel a little better. hope you enjoy, please please let me know what you think!

read the rest of my work here.

(gif not mine)

Salem wasn't only a cat. Salem was a companion, a friend. Salem was, for the longest time, her shoulder to cry on. The only one who was there for her every night after a shitty day. She knew from the moment she looked into those yellow eyes that she was going to do whatever it takes to give that cat the best life it could possibly have. Y/n knew pets aren't immortal, and after fifteen years with hers, she tries to prepare herself for the day where Salem couldn't be with her anymore. People close to her tried to avoid the topic, and honestly so did she. Y/n didn't want to talk about how the world would look like after Salem is gone, so she always focused on her furry friend that was cuddled with her on the bed and pushing those thoughts away.

But all the preparation didn't make it hurt anything less when the day actually came.

It wasn't long after Y/n moved in with her boyfriend of two years, Harry. Both Y/n and Salem got used to the house pretty quickly, and Harry never minded seeing the black cat's things around the house, if anything it made him like his house was becoming a home and for once it looked like someone actually lived there. He liked the idea of coming home and going straight to the living room because he just knew he'd find them cuddling there. Salem was also an extremely well-behaved cat, he's never in his life scratched or hissed at anyone and has always been loving and affectionate. As Salem got old, it got harder for him to do things he used to do when he was a kitten. He stopped eating at some point and started to lose a lot of weight, causing Y/n to give him vitamins and all kinds of supplements to help him gain weight again. For some time it worked, and Y/n felt incredibly relieved about it. But then it got hard for Salem to get up and move around, causing him problems to go to the bathroom.

Harry was out at the gym when he got a call from Y/n. It was the way her shaky voice was interrupted with hiccups every few words and how she was practically asking him to rush home without really asking how he knew the moment of putting Salem down has arrived. Harry wasn't sure if he had ever experienced that kind of pain before that day, and to this day he still couldn't describe the way his heart broke into a million pieces when Salem's heart stopped beating and Y/n couldn't breathe because of how hard she was crying. He remembered staying on the floor with her for hours, letting her cry on his chest. She'd stop for a moment, thinking she had no tears left to cry but then she remembered her life companion was gone and a new wave of sobs hit her. That circle went on until the sun went down and the natural light of the moon was the only thing illuminating them.

Weeks passed and Harry didn't even question when he found cat food still in the kitchen, or when he saw Salem's toys and cat trees still around the house. She didn't seem to want to throw them away, and Harry certainly wasn't going to ask her to. He also didn't question the time he found her crying on the floor of the kitchen of their shared house because she bought cat food when she was at the store without realizing she didn't need it anymore.

However, Harry didn't realize how emotionally dependent she was on Salem until he came home one day and found her crying in their bedroom while holding a blanket Salem used to sleep with. He didn't know what to do to help her, and he hated the fact that he felt so useless.

"I just don't know what to do anymore, mum." He said one day through the phone. "I hate seeing her like this."

Anne sighed. "Poor Y/n, everyone knew how much Salem meant to her."

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Here's the thing, sweetheart. It's never going to stop hurting. Time will help, for sure, but it will keep hurting until it becomes a more bearable pain." She paused. "Let her grieve her loss. When the time is right, you will pull her out of that hole, I'm sure of that." Harry nodded even though his mum couldn't exactly see him. "Maybe not right now but, perhaps adopting a new kitten would help."

"I thought of that, I just didn't know how to bring it up to her. Don't want her to think I'm ready to replace Salem." He sighed. He only knew the cat for two years, but it was enough to know it hurt him too. He's shed a few tears himself, mostly in the shower to try and not disturb his girlfriend. "I'll tell you what we decide, I gotta go mum."

"Please do. I love you, baby."

"Love you too, mum."

Just as he told his mum, Harry started to find ways to tell Y/n they could adopt a pet if she wanted to, he understood if she didn't want to have another cat, but he knew how much Y/N loved animals. She was so good to them and had such a big heart Harry couldn't think she'd stop herself from giving some of all the love she had to offer to an animal that needed it. It could be a cat, a dog, hell he'd buy her a fish if that was what her heart desired.

Ever since Salem passed, Y/n laid on the bed of their bedroom and played All Dead, All Dead by Queen religiously every day through the speakers. Of course, Harry let her be. It was her coping mechanism, he guessed. So when he heard the music upstairs, he immediately knew where to find her. He stood by the doorway, looking at the love of her life lying on their bed. He hesitates to enter the room, not wanting to disturb her, but he needed to talk to her so he pushed himself from the doorway and made his way to where she was, taking a seat next to her.

"Hey, lovie." He said softly, reaching for her hand.

"Hey, H." She gave him a small smile. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Take your time, darling. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Is everything okay?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yeah! It's nothing bad, I promise." He said. "I talked to mum, she said the Humane Society back home just got a bunch of rescues in need for a home." Y/n opened her mouth to say something but Harry was not done. "I thought we could drive there this week and go there. We don't need to adopt one if you don't want to but look around wouldn't hurt."

"Harry... I'm not ready." She said. "I'm not sure I can go there without breaking into sobs."

"I'll be there with you, baby. I swear you'll be fine."

"I'm not ready to have another one." She said in a shaky voice. "I feel like... like I'm betraying Sally in a way. It's been only two months and... I miss him, H." Y/n started crying again. "I'm scared of forgetting him, how he was like. What if we adopt one and I forget him?"

"Oh, sweetheart." He cooed, taking her into his arms. "That's not going to happen. Salem will always be present with us and will always watch over you as he used to when he was here. Adopting another pet won't change what you lived with Salem, or how much he meant and still means to you. I get that you're not ready, but I also know how much you love cats, and how you're always thinking about the ones that don't have a home, someone to love them and take care of them. You have the biggest heart, and you've always been so good to animals, I wouldn't want you to close off to the idea of giving one the opportunity to experience what it feels like to have a person who loves them. We don't have to go this week if you don't want to but promise me you'll think about it, alright?"

"I promise." That's all she said before wrapping her arms around Harry's torso, cuddling closer to him.

Y/n thought about it for a while, she really did. Everything Harry said stuck in her head and with every day that passed, she felt less and less guilty of thinking about getting a new cat. The thought was still at the back of her head and it obviously still hurt but Y/n thought she was ready to accept Harry's offer to go to the Humane Society to look at the kittens and doing it without having a mental breakdown. She decided to tell Harry as they were making breakfast, only two weeks later after he first brought it up.

"So... I thought about what you told me the other day." She started. Harry's face lights up as he immediately knew what she was talking about. "And I think you're right. We can go there and look at the kittens. We don't have to adopt one."

"We don't have to adopt one." He reassured her, although he knew that thought might change once they crossed the doors of the Humane Society.

They decided to go on Wednesday. Halfway through the week, probably not many people would be there meaning they would have more time with the kittens if they wanted. The entire ride Harry could feel the anxiety radiating from Y/n's body. She was nervous, very nervous. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself she was fine, she still knew she was going to cry as soon as they entered the building. That's why she let Harry do all the talking and just followed him through the hallway that would take them to the room where they had all the cats. They had the cats and the dogs in different rooms, the majority of the dogs were in cages but the cats were allowed outside of them. They were the only ones there so as soon as they entered, Y/n cooed out loud at the sight of the cats and sat on the floor where immediately a couple of them walked towards her and started to sniff her.

"I'm going to cry." She announced.

"They're cute, aren't they?" Harry said, extending one hand towards an orange cat for it to sniff. "This one's name's Chester."

She looked up at Harry with tears in her eyes. "I want them all."

"I know you do." He smiled sweetly at her.

They spent a couple of hours there, just hanging out with all of the cats. Some of them were shy and wouldn't come close to them, and some would even lay on their laps and take a nap. The only thing Y/n could think about was how badly she wanted one. She's missed having the weight of a little ball of fur on top of you, purring and begging for some cuddles.

"Can we get one?" She looked at Harry again, who was patiently waiting for her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I mean, I miss having a pet. And you're right, I will always love Salem, that won't change."

Harry nodded. "What if we get a kitten? You said that when you got Salem he was already a year old."

"I think a kitten will be amazing."

There were only two girl kittens available, one was a small white one and the other one was a tortoiseshell. The latest was so unique looking, and wouldn't stop rubbing herself on Harry's hand. The cat allowed Y/n to pick her up and started purring right away. y the look in his girlfriend's eyes, Harry knew that was the one.

They decided to name her Misty. They thought it suits her. Y/n couldn't stop smiling even after leaving the Humane Society, and Harry felt so happy about it. They told them they could come to pick Misty up next Monday, so they had to wait almost a whole week to finally take their new kitten home, but that didn't matter. Harry was fine now that Y/n's smile was back on her face. All she could talk about during the week was how excited she was about getting Misty, so Harry knew he made the right choice by taking her there.

When Sunday came, Harry felt how Y/n started to grow anxious again, her guilty thoughts making a comeback. So he decided to give her something to reassure her that everything was going to be fine.

"So I saw you with Sally's blanket again," Harry said, walking towards her with something behind his back. "And I know what's going through that little head of yours, so I wanted to give you something to assure you he will always be here with us." He shyly put what he was hiding on her lap. Y/n's eyes immediately watered when she saw the framed picture of the two of them with Salem. It was from Y/n's birthday. Anne took it after Y/n blew the candles of her cake, a huge smile on her face while Harry was holding Salem, a smile on his own face. Salem was wearing one of those birthday hats. "You can put it by the fireplace, or by your nightstand."

Y/n looked up at Harry. "Thank you." She breathed out, instantly wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I love you so much, Harry."

"I love you too, darling. Just as much as Salem and Misty love you."

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs

330 notes · View notes

howaboutleeches · 4 years ago

Note

Greetings, hope you are doing well 🌸 I have never sent requests before, so I am a little nervous. Anyway, how would main 6 react to mc who feeds the stray cats on daily basis? Thank you in advance for paying attention 💗

I just have to say, I absolutely LOVED this one. I’ll do my best to meet your expectations

-- / / --

How would the Main Six React to an MC who feeds stray cats on a daily basis 🐱

Asra:

🔮 He wouldn’t notice the first few times. Not because he didn’t pay attention to you, but it wasn’t something you did for attention, so the quiet gentle action went by almost unnoticed.

🔮 The first sign was the sudden disappearance of the milk bottles from the fridge. At first he though you just really liked milk, so he made sure to buy more, but the speed of which it vanished was way to quick. He became suspicious.

🔮 Then, your absence at the same time, every day. “They may have went to run errands....or maybe Nadia wanted to talk to them?”, was what he though. But every day, at the same time? His suspicion grew even more.

🔮 Now, he wasn’t proud of what he did next. He could’ve just asked you, but he decided to follow you. The worse possible thoughts crossed his mind as he saw you enter a dark alley. But then you knelt down and he smiled at what he saw.

🔮 A larger cat, accompanied by small ones, kittens, care-freely approached you, meowing in happiness as you laid down a tray, pouring the milk. The kittens eagerly started drinking and the larger cat, probably the mother, purred while rubbing herself on you. He left the alley, making sure you hadn’t noticed his presence, and you didn’t

🔮 He could’ve told you he saw, how adorable you looked, or how you had such a kind heart and pure spirit. But he decided not to say anything. Although, when you came back, a sweet smile was on his face as he sipped a cup of tea. “I was thinking....Faust seems lonely sometimes. We should get her a few friends. I was thinking, how about kittens?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as you excitedly agreed.

Nadia:

👑 She had a keen eye, so she quickly noticed how you quickly rushed away after your dinners, ran to the kitchen, grabbed a few leftovers and came back to the palace with a satisfied expression. That made her eyebrow raise and her mind confused.

👑 Surely, if you had discovered a new fun activity or had made a new friend, you would definitely tell her....right? So why this had happened for the past couple weeks and you haven’t said anything to her?

👑 The though of it drove her crazy, but she knew how to mask it very well. She even asked you if you had found a new hobby, making it sound as if it was just a simple question, with the intention of having a conversation.

👑 Eventually, she got tired of not knowing. She excused herself first from dinner, obtaining a confused look from you, but you didn’t say anything, thinking that maybe she had something important to take care of.

👑 She went to your shared room, grabbed a cloak large enough to cover her whole hair and simple enough as not to draw attention and went outside, waiting by the palace’s gates, hidden.

👑 Once you came out, she followed your quick steps. She looked around suspiciously as you started to go into poorly-lit streets, turning into the most strange corners.

👑 Then, after entering an alley, you stopped, catching her by surprise. She watched in awe as you knelt down and a bunch of cats came to you, meowing and jumping on your clothes. You grabbed the leftovers and offered them to the cats talking to them as if they were close friends.

👑 She couldn’t help but to chuckle at your actions, making you turn around in surprise, looking up at her. She approached you and knelt down close to you as you watched her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

👑 One of the cats sniffed her and rubber itself on her cloak. She picked it up, rubbing its head with her finger. “You should have told me dear. There’s no need to dirty your clothes coming to places like this, when we could bring them to the Palace. How about we make a special place just for them there?”

Julian:

♠️ As he was used to roaming the streets of Vesuvia, he knew about the stray cats that roamed the area. He also knew that they didn’t like them very much, but the reason was still a mystery to him.

♠️ You waited for him to finish up on the clinic one day when you heard meowing from the outside. You peeked out, seeing a few kittens play-fighting as a larger cat meowed back to them, as telling them to stop.

♠️ You chuckled and grabbed something you had separated to eat later and walked out of the clinic. The larger cat eyed you with suspicion as you walked closer to them.

♠️ You lowered yourself and extended the snack with a smile. After a few hisses and a lot of sniffing, they gave in, taking the snack from you and eagerly munching on it.

♠️ You kept doing that for the days and only then Julian noticed your disappearance as you were supposed to wait for him on the clinic. As the last client left, he finished earlier and decided to see what you were up to.

♠️ Looking out the window, he saw you approaching the cats casually and he almost let out a screech. He rushed out the shop, running towards you “Y/N STOP IT! THEY’RE DANGERO-” He stopped mid-sentence as he saw the cats curled on your lap, playfully nibbling at your clothes.

♠️ He watched in awe as you played with them, the same cats who had bit his toes once. He stepped closer to you and the cats looked up. He let out a nervous chuckle and extended a daring hand, to pet them.

♠️ The larger cat looked between him and his hand a few times before moving its head, letting itself be pet. Julian laughed with excitement, sitting on the floor close to you.

♠️ After that day, both of you kindly escort the cats to the inside of the clinic, were they would be fed and Julian would sing bar songs to them as they tried to snatch his eye-patch. He would smile just by looking at you, seeing your angelic nature as you took in the cats. For him, you were perfect in every way.

Muriel:

🌿 It’s no surprise Muriel was found of animals. But he never associated with any from the city, but rather his chickens and Inanna, along other animals in the forest.

🌿 The first time you had found the cats, you had gone to visit Asra. You took a bit longer than Muriel expected and once you came back, Inanna circled you a few times, sniffing you with a curious look on her face, making Muriel suspicious.

🌿 That started to happen more and more often, and it was starting to get to Muriel. He even asked Asra why their visits were taking longer, but Asra looked at Muriel with confusion, saying you always left the shop at the same time, thirty minutes before sunset. So why were you so late?

🌿 He kept quiet for a while and became a bit more distant. He didn’t know how to deal with his confusion, his doubts and his feelings at that point, so he ended up trapping himself inside. Full of doubt and unable to say anything.

🌿 You noticed he grew a bit distance, even quieter than before, and he rarely smiled anymore. Then it hit you. You didn’t tell him about it....and now he probably though you were lying to him, seeing someone behind his back.

🌿 You canceled your next visit to Asra and prepared a full basket with snacks and fruits. Muriel silently watched you prepare everything, feeling down as he sat. Once you were done, you just stood at the door. One minute, then two, then five went by until Muriel turned to you, his face clearly confused.

🌿 You smiled at him and asked him to join you, doing the same to Inanna. They looked at each other but obeyed, getting up and following your lead as you walked through the forest entering the city.

🌿 They skeptically followed you as you walked through the streets, but seeing less and less people on them made Muriel feel more at ease. Once you reached the alley, the cats came out happily, but screeched and scurried away seeing Muriel and Inanna.

🌿 You tried to calm them down, which only partially worked. You placed one snack on Muriel’s hands and the other on Inanna’s mouth, gesturing for them to step forward. Both were as nervous as the cats, but got closer, offering the snacks. The cats slowly got closer, eyeing them curiously, but accepted their offerings.

🌿 Not even ten minutes later, the smaller cats played with Inanna as if she was one of them and the other climbed on Muriel’s clothes, meowing at him for attention. He chuckled while looking at them, so small on his hands. He looked at Inanna and how she behaved with the kittens, then at you, with red cheeks. “I think...we should bring them back. Inanna likes them....as so do I”

🌿 He thought about all the times you would’ve taken care of those cats without anyone knowing, without showing off or demanding praise for what you did. It was an act of pure kindness, and that was one of the many reasons of why he loved you.

Portia:

🐈 You could never hide anything from Portia. Even if you tried, she could sniff you were doing something without her from miles away, and she was always right. You may not even look suspicious, but somehow, Portia always knows.

🐈 So when you find a few stray cats on your way to the shop, the first thing you do when you return to the cottage you both share after doing some work, is to tell her what you found, the stray cats.

🐈 It would've been a really busy day for her, but once she heard your words, her eyes were filled with determination and she started to gather Pepi's cat food.

🐈 You fed and played with the cats for a good while, and when it was time to return, she couldn't bear the idea of leaving them there. "Y/n, what if something happens! It would be our fault, cause we didn't take them home! I think my point is valid, so I'll take them either way" She would take all the cats on her arms, some of them tangled on her hair, and return to the cottage.

🐈 Pepi was a bit skeptical and hid behind the couch, seeing the other cats sniffing around. But it only took a few minutes before they were all meowing excitedly together and playing as old friends.

🐈 It warmed up her heart seeing you play with the cats, taking on the responsibility to nurture them, even though you didn’t have to. In her eyes, you were the kindest person she had ever met.

Lucio:

🐐 Imagine both of your's surprise when you entered the room and Mercedes and Melchior barked at you, backing you up against a wall, sniffing you aggressively only to back away slowly, but still eyeing you cautiously.

🐐 You looked down at yourself, noticing some cat fur on your clothes. You patted it and looked at Lucio, who had a confused expression on his face.

🐐 The incident passed, but Lucio kept his eye on you, to the point of following you one night through the streets of Vesuvia.

🐐 He wondered what kind of shady thing you were up to when he saw you enter dark streets over and over, and once your steps became slower and you turned into an alley, he saw you kneeling on the floor, small figures running towards you.

🐐 "Cats!? All of this for....stray cats? Really Y/n!?" He wasn't mad at you, he was mad over the fact he got his cloak dirty while following you, but it's not like you would know that.

🐐 He approached you and one of the smallest kittens wobbled towards him, looked up and let out a soft meow, nibbling the hem of his pants.

🐐 His eyes widened and he turned his face away, slightly flustered. He grabbed the kitten and held it on his arm, turning away from you. "I'm keeping this one, it's mine! You can bring the others back to the castle if you want to"

🐐 Of course, he ended up naming all the cats later on, pampering them, buying fancy cat accessories....even Mercedes and Melchior protected the cats, cuddling them at night to keep them safe and warm. To Lucio, you were an angel. Taking in those cats just made him see it more on you.

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

I hoped you guys enjoyed this one! This request was so sweet and I had a lot of fun writing it, so thank you for the request! ❤️🌻

tag list

@the-chaos-siblings @dcuniversegurl @diamondlight301 @cidadepequena @alliespec @spectrolitecg @bisexualmattholtstan @kycantina @soft-raine @elysian-mars

If you want to be added on the tag list, go interact on my pinned post so I can know 😉 💖

519 notes · View notes

lovemeleo · 4 years ago

Note

I would love to see Sirius Remus and Asher going to Nuny's to check up on Jackson and then Asher is all adorable with the cats

Thanks so much for this prompt, anon! I got so excited as soon as I saw it. Get to combine my baby Asher with my favorite Nuny boys. I hope you enjoy it! These characters and their world (except for Asher) belong to the always amazing @lumosinlove.

If you haven’t read the rest of the Asher Pascal series, here’s the link!

***

“Now remember Ash, just because Uncle Nado doesn’t have the cast anymore doesn’t mean you can jump all over him.” Sirius said, glancing back at his son through the rearview mirror.

Asher nodded, clutching at his Lions stuffie as he stared out the window, “‘Cause he’s still hurtin’.”

Smiling, Remus reached back to pat the little boy’s foot, “That’s right, bub.”

Asher had been there for the game when Nado got hurt, and had been worried ever since. They’d already talked to him about how a lot of his family played hockey, and sometimes they got hurt. He had understood that but talking about it is a lot different than seeing it in front of your very eyes. The almost two year old had been itching to visit Jackson, but Sirius and Remus wanted to give him more time to heal up. So Asher video chatted with Nado whenever he could, going on about his day and whatever other things happened to pop into his head. He also gave Kuny drawings and get well cards, as well as one of his favorite stuffed animals to give to Nado until he could visit. Jackson teared up a bit when Kuny brought the gifts home, but he’ll deny it.

Now after two months, today was finally the day. Jackson had gotten his cast off a few days before and the Black-Lupin clan was given the OK to come visit.

Asher was wiggling in his seat as soon as Sirius put the car in park, a new drawing clutched in his hands, “C’monnnn. Time to get out!”

“Alright, let me get my seatbelt off first, jeez.” Remus said with a laugh before he climbed out. As soon as Asher was unbuckled, he made a break for the door but Sirius grabbed him quickly, throwing him over his shoulder. Wild giggles came from Asher as he held onto his daddy, dangling upside down over his back.

Remus let out an exasperated sigh, but it was mostly fond, “Be careful. We don’t need anyone else in casts.” Sirius looked back at him with a smile, blowing the other man a kiss before knocking on the door.

After a brief pause, there was some talking from behind the door before Kuny swung open, “Sorry, I should have asked. Do you have allergies?”

“Like food allergies?” Sirius asked, his eyebrows furrowed at the strange greeting as he moved Asher onto his hip.

Kuny shook his head as he pushed something behind the door away with his foot, “No, no food. Like animals.”

Then a voice came from inside the house, “Cats. He wants to know if you’re allergic to cats!” Nado yelled. Kuny glanced back, giving him a look.

“You got a cat?” Remus asked, peeking behind Kuny curiously. “And no, we’re not allergic to cats. Asher has a habit of trying to steal them though when we help at the shelter.”

Nodding, Kuny moved back to let them in, “We got cats. And I would steal too.” He said with a grin as he stole Asher from Sirius’s arms, leading them to the living room where Nado was waiting. Asher clung to him happily, his arms wrapping around the giant man’s neck.

Nado grinned, holding Milo up like he was Simba in the Lion King, “Kuny took me to a cat café after I got my cast off, and we ended up getting attached.” He said, bringing the kitten back down so he could nuzzle him back into his neck.

“Uncle Nadooooooooo!” Asher squealed as soon as he saw his other uncle. Kuny set him down next to the couch. “I drew you this picture, it’s got me and you and Uncle Zhenya!”

Carefully taking the drawing, Jackson smiled as he ruffled Asher’s hair, “It’s great, dude. Can’t wait to hang it up.”

Asher smiled big, but his eyes quickly scanned over his Uncle as if to check him over, “You ‘kay?” He asked, looking up from the boot.

“I’m doing much better now. The boot’s a lot more comfy than the cast.” Nado said with a soft smile, pulling Asher onto the couch next to him. Milo peered down at the new little person and started to scamper his way down Nado’s chest. “Seems like Milo wants to meet you.”

Remus leaned forward from his spot on the opposite couch, smiling as the small gray ball of fluff sniffed curiously at Asher, “He’s so cute.”

The kitten nuzzled into Asher’s hand, letting out a soft purr as he made himself comfortable on the small boy’s lap.

“Wait… did you say cats? As in plural?” Sirius asked, glancing around the room.

Kuny nodded, before he got up, “I grab Pumpkin. One second.” He said before heading to their room.

Petting his hand gently down the small kitten’s back, Asher looked up at his dads with a big smile, “He’s so soft. And tiny!”

“Yeah, Milo is the smallest of the bunch. He’s our little guy.” Jackson smiled, gently scratching under the kitten’s chin before he handed Asher one of the toys, it had a long stick with a string attached that had a small fish toy on the end. “He likes this one. If you just drag it back and forth, he’ll chase it.”

Asher took the toy, trailing the small fish toy back and forth. Milo scampered after it, stumbling a bit as he tried to keep up with the fish toy.

Kuny came out of their bedroom not long after, carrying what looked to be a mass of orange fluff in his arms, “This is my Pumpkin.” He may have been smiling but the entirety of his face was covered by Pumpkin’s fluff.

Remus couldn’t help but laugh as he watched his friend try to sit next to his boyfriend when he very obviously couldn’t see.

“To the left a bit, babe.” Nado said, a fond smile spreading on his face as he pulled Kuny to sit down next to him before looking at their friends. “He got attached to her so we couldn’t leave her behind.”

Pumpkin let out an indignant meow as Kuny set her down on the floor by his feet, her tail swishing behind her as she made her way to where Sirius and Remus sat.

“You guys know you don’t have to take the cats with you when you visit cat cafes right?” Sirius teased, gently running his fingers through Pumpkin’s soft fur as she brushed against his legs.

Kuny laughed, resting his arm behind Nado as he leaned back into the couch, “They choose us, we just can’t refuse them.” He said, a soft smile spreading on his face.

Shaking his head, Remus reached to pet Pumpkin who had sprawled across Sirius’s lap, “So we leave you guys alone for a couple weeks and come back to you adopting two cats.”

“Three.”

Their heads whipped up to look at Nado who was smirking, “We got three cats.. And well the last one. It was more like he adopted us.”

Asher looked up from where he was nuzzling into Milo’s fur, “Where’s the other kitty?”

As if he heard them talking about him, Loki let out a loud meow from the kitchen, followed by another long one.

Kuny and Nado sighed, sharing a glance as Kuny got up, “Probably stuck on fridge. Again.”

“You spoil him, Zhenya. He’s big enough to get down by himself, but he knows you’ll come get him.” Nado said, shaking his head.

Eyebrows furrowed, they watched Kuny wander into the kitchen. Remus could hear soft whispering, but it was in Russian so he had no clue what the man was saying.

Nado looked over at them, “Loki jumps on the fridge if he feels that he’s not getting enough attention from Zhenya. And he stays up there until he comes and gets him.”

Kuny came back in, followed by a massive cat who was trailing as close to the Russian as possible without stepping on his feet.

“Jesus Fu-..” Sirius said, cutting himself off with a glance at his son.

Asher’s eyes were wide as he looked at the new cat, “Uncle Nado, you got a jaguar?!”

Laughing, Kuny picked Loki up, cradling him in his arms like a massive furry baby, “No jaguar, Ash. Just big kitty.” The massive cat nuzzled into Kuny’s chest as he sat back on the couch, letting out a loud purr now that he finally had his human’s attention.

“He’s a maine coon cat actually, they think he’s around one or two years old.” Jackson said, reaching over to scratch at Loki’s head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, “So he’s still growing?” He asked as the giant cat stretched out, sprawling across Nado and Kuny’s laps but his eyes were on the newcomers. “I’m feeling vaguely threatened.”

Kuny shook his head, “Nah, Loops, no threat. He's a big cuddle bug. You can pet him, Ash. Let him sniff you.” He said, as the little boy handed Milo off to Nado.

Asher moved slowly, holding his hand out for Loki to smell his hand. The big cat watched the tiny human curiously, sniffing at his hand before he got up. The tiny human had a small lap but it would have to do. Loki flopped down into Asher’s lap, almost covering him completely as the cat let out a loud purr. Asher’s face lit up as he looked between his parents and his uncles.

“He likes me!” Asher said happily as Loki curled up, nuzzling up into the little boy’s neck. Remus couldn’t help himself as he pulled out his phone, snapping pictures of Asher and Loki.

Smiling, Nado set Milo back onto his shoulder, “Well, I’m not surprised he likes you, dude. Loki’s a good judge of character.” Asher held the giant cat closer, his massive grin partially hidden in Loki’s fur.

Sirius couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he saw the happiness on Asher’s face, “Dammit… now we’re gonna have to get a cat.”

Letting out a laugh, Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’s head. He couldn’t even disagree at this point.

Guess they should start looking at shelters.

#nuny #coops #asher pascal #anon prompt #anon ask #lumosinlove #sweater weather #jackson nadeau #evgeni kuznetsov #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #cat dads #wolfstar being dads #fluff #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar kid #lumosinlove sweater weather #soft boys

137 notes · View notes

dandelionflower · 5 years ago

Text

She hikes alone

Marinette skipped to her friends, tapping Adrien on the shoulder before hugging him tight.

“Hey, Princess,” he gave her a smile that melted her heart, “we were just talking about things we could do on our free day.”

He gestured to the class, who were all deep in a debate over ice cream place or pizza parlor.

“I was thinking we could go to a park; a new friend of mine has a couple of places we could check out. I think it would be really good as a lazy activity to get rid of jet lag, or in Kim’s case, excess energy.”

“Sounds really nice!” He smiled and began to open his mouth to tell them; he had become Marinette’s representative to the class, when Lila stood up.

“Hey guys! What if, since today doesn’t have anything planned, we went to a park and hung out?”

“That’s a genius idea, Lila!”

“I could play frisbee!”

“I’d enjoy observing the local flora.”

That’s genius Lila. You’re so smart. Marinette growled under her breath, Lila obviously overheard her talking with Adrien and took credit for her idea.

“I actually know some parks we could go to, from when I visited with Jagged Stone a few months back. We could go to one of those, if you want?”

“That sounds great Lila!” Adrien cut in before Marinette could protest. “Let’s go now!”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her as the class cheered and stood up, “I’ll make sure we go to a nice park.”

That’s not what I’m worried about. Marinette thought as she watched Lila attach herself to Adrien’s arm.

She followed at a fair distance from the class; not by choice, her friends just seemed to speed up whenever she tried to walk near them.

“Marinette!” Grace tapped on her shoulder, a broad grin on her face. She was wearing the headband. “Where did you decide on going?”

“A park.”

“That’s great! Which one are you going to? Because if you haven’t decided, I have a ton of great places for you to go...” she plucked some pamphlets from her back pocket and displayed one. “I think this one would suit your needs best.”

“Thanks, Grace, but...” Marinette spared a glance at the pack of students, led by Lila and Adrien. “I think it’s already been decided.”

Grace’s expression soured. “Okay, but keep ahold of that pamphlet, will you? You might end up finding time to go.”

“I hope I do.” She waved Grace a quick goodbye and dashed back to her friends, who were already going through the door.

—

They hopped on a bus and Marinette smirked as Lila worried her lip, eyes darting towards every sign that could possibly lead her to a park.

As fun as that was, Marinette quickly got bored and began perusing the pamphlet Grace handed to her.

Quarry Stone Park

Known for its towering pillars of black stone, it is rumored that Quarry Stone Park was where the brick for the famed Culpa Manor was mined.

While the parks naming is rather obvious, it also contains many hidden paths, leading to waterfalls, gem-filled caves, and even the ocean.

A popular landmark of the park is Quarry Ledge, which overlooks the ocean. The natural black spires and stark white sands make for an amazing view.

That’s where we should be going, Marinette mused, not wherever Lila’s going to take us.

“Here we are!” Lila sang. “The best park in the whole town.”

Sure... Marinette glanced at the rotting wooden sign, the crumbling letters reading, Wooded Glade Park.

The class ran in, Alix already tossing a frisbee for Kim to catch. Adrien fell back and greeted Marinette with a silent smile and had just grabbed her hand when everyone fell silent and stared at the open field surrounded by borderline rotting trees.

“Uhh, Lila?” Ivan asked, shielding Mylene’s eyes from the mistreated plants. “Are you sure this is he place? It looks a little run down.”

“Definitely!” Lila protested, and though her back was facing Marinette, she could almost see the false tears welling up in her eyes. “I- I don’t know what happened; it used to be so beautiful... I’m so sorry everyone.”

“What if we helped you clean it up?” Rose offered. “Got rid of any trash and planted some flowers!”

“Yeah!” The class cheered, voicing their agreement.

“You- you would all do that for me?”

“Of course!”

“I can’t believe this! I... thank you!”

Mylene pulled Ivan’s hand from her eyes and glared at the offending trees. “Babe? I need a lift.”

Ivan picked her up and placed her onto his shoulders.

“Alright everybody!” She shouted, voice abnormally loud. “I need someone to carry heavy stuff, a couple people for trash and, Marinette! Can you organize our efforts?”

She smiled and was about to pull out her notebook, when Lila opened her mouth, which had proven to be a tragedy in itself.

“I don’t know guys, remember how late Marinette came in? She didn’t even get to have breakfast, we don’t want to tire her out what with the jet lag and all. I can just organize, you know I was an organizer to a famous charity.”

“That’s a great idea, Lila! I’ll help!” Adrien leaned over to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “Don’t worry, I can keep her out of trouble while you just relax and walk down one of the trails, it’s a win-win.”

But I want to walk the trails with you...

She smiled, gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked to the closest trail as fast as she could so Adrien couldn’t see the tears collecting in her eyes.

She loved how selfless Adrien was, she did. It was just... he never seemed to choose her.

She stood there for a moment and allowed herself to cry. This was supposed to be a fun trip where she could hang out with her boyfriend and friends as they all explored her favorite place in the world.

Marinette finally looked up and observed the signs marking the different paths she could take.

Daisy Walkway.

Riverside.

Quarry Stone Path.

Quarry Stone?

Marinette pulled out her pamphlet and compared the names.

Maybe I will get to see Quarry Stone after all.

—

It was a fair hike to Quarry Stone, but it was so worth it.

The trees were lush and green, every bench and table were in perfect condition, people were everywhere, and interspersed across the field were dozens of giant black pillars of rock.

Marinette gave a glance to the other trails.

Waterfalls, meadows, beachside.... there were so many choices.

“Excuse me, sir?” She touched the arm of a nearby elderly man, who was exiting one of the trails. “I was wondering, do you know these trails well? Could you maybe recommend one to me?”

“Never been to Quarry Stone, have you dear?” He gave her a friendly smile.

“No.”

“Well, when I was young and adventurous, I would go on the Nymph’s River path. On a sunny day like this, it’s sure to be a magical sight.”

“It’s cloudy, you old coot!”

A frail old woman in a worn pink dress stumbled from the same path.

“What?” The man put on a thick pair of spectacles and squinted at the sky. “So it is.”

“I’m Henry’s wife, Meredith, and what’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.” She grinned at the familiar banter that reminded her of her parents.

“Likewise, dear.” A bony hand grasped her own. “Now, what’s a little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

“Um, my class, we’re here on a field trip and we had… a disagreement on what to do.”

“Ah, and they let you do your thing but it’s not as fun alone, is it?”

“No, not really.”

“I’ve got just the place for you dear. Henry, what about...” she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You’re a genius, Mere. Kiddo, just go down that path,” he pointed her to the forest, “and I promise it will be a sight worth seeing.”

“Okay, thank you both so much!” She waved to the couple as she headed down the path, memorizing their faces in case they encounter one another again.

—

It truly was a sight worth seeing, as promised.

When Marinette finally broke out of the dark greens in the surrounding the trail, she was met by the most soothing sight she’d ever laid eyes on.

She was standing on a large ledge carved out of the hill; metal posts and railings were surrounding the platform. Nothing noteworthy.

But the sight it was there to show was unimaginably perfect. The sand was a pure white, which would have been blinding if it wasn’t for the clouds covering the sun. The stone spires that decorated the entire forest were dotting the beach in all their splendor, rising proudly and casting barely noticeable shadows across the sand and the pale, rolling waves.

She leaned on the railing; taking in the soothing spectacle. It was almost like she was falling asleep, her consciousness drifting until she had no other thought but the muted colors in front of her...

“Meow?”

Marinette screamed and leapt away from the sound, pushing her back against the railing and gripping it with both hands likes she was on a crashing elevator.

A black cat with startling blue eyes stared at her, tilting its head in a quizzical motion.

“Mrrrrrr.” Was its only reaction to her panic.

“He- hello?”

It stared at her waved hand, like it was the most interesting thing it had seen.

She held it out tentatively, in an open gesture, leaving enough space for it to leave.

It stared at it for a moment longer before tentatively leaning forwards to place its head in her palm. It purred as she scritched its chin.

“What’s your name, kitty?” She mused. “Garfield? Like the Culpa that started the mansion?”

It leaned its head into her pinky in a silent gesture to go on.

“Harriet? Darrian? Abigail?”

No cigar.

“What about Culpa?”

The cat purred and nuzzled her hand with a vigor.

“Culpa it is.” She brought her other hand to pet at the newly-christened Culpa’s ear.

Culpa mewled with a satisfaction that seemed... almost human on the face of the pitch cat.

—

The rest

@miraculous-of-salt @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @aestheticnpoetic @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @toodaloo-kangaroo @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything

#felinette #ml felix #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml marinette #ml adrien #lila salt #class salt #adrien salt #ml lila #lila rossi #haunted mansion au #adrienette #ml class #ml alya #guess who this cat is...

717 notes · View notes

the-dragon-hearted · 3 years ago

Text

How to Tame your Demon

I got bored, so here: Papa Puffy and Demon Dream, as a treat.

Tw: language, blood, restraints, and also what creepiness you'd expect when you cohabitate with a demon

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

Puffy had dealt with a lot of moths in her life at the ungodly hour of three AM. They'd gotten caught in her lampshades, they'd thrown themselves at the windows, one had flown into a candle once - that had been fun. The point was, Puffy was used to things going 'bump' in the night so when something slammed into a window down the hall she just assumed another giant moth was running around her halls.

Or, maybe it was the cat. It could definitely be the cat.

She rolled over and tried to fall back to sleep.

Then the whispering started. A frantic sort of whispering that Puffy almost mistook for the wind running through her curtains. She hadn't left a window open, had she?

Sitting up, pushing her wool out of her eyes, she resigned herself to the fact that the universe didn't want her to get the doctor's recommended eight hours of sleep. Oh well, that's why coffee was invented.

She yawned as she swung her hooves out of her warm nest of blankets and cotton, her back cracking as she stood on the wooden floorboards.

The cat was meowing from the hallway. The universe's final attempt to get her up.

Puffy started making her way for the open bedroom door, the cat's name "Patches" on her lips when someone spoke first.

"No - no bad! Bad cat! Don't look at me like that you - I swear to satan if you eat me - no, no! Get back! No-no-no-no, no - wait!"

Puffy was now very much awake and alert as she ran to the hallway. There was a stranger in her house, an intruder - a thief? A bad one at that - who talked as they broke into a house!?

The hallway was barren except for Patches who was staring at the window very intently, her tail swishing back and forth as she eyed something hungrily - probably a moth.

Puffy was only looking for the voice. She rushed to the kitchen, the living room, hell she even checked the linen closet. Had she imagined it? Oh, great she was hallucinating now. Exhaustion had caught up to her apparently.

"No! BAD CAT!"

Or... not? Puffy returned to the hallway and saw that Patches was now on the windowsill, batting at the dream catcher that hung there. It had been a gift from Niki, a small, hand-made from willow bark, twine, and seagull feathers. There were a few beads from Puffy's pirating days hanging with the gull feathers. The beads clinked together now as the twine in the center of the dream catcher clung to something.

"What in the - " Puffy muttered as she came closer. Patches gave the dream catcher another whack.

"I will eat you," the voice hissed. Puffy leaned closer and finally saw the outline of a very small humanoid thing tangled in the twine of the dream catcher.

It seemed it noticed her too because its struggles suddenly grew very still.

"Hello?" Puffy asked.

"Fuck," the thing muttered.

"Well you've got a mouth," Puffy scoffed.

Patches went to whack it again. Puffy picked up the deranged hunter and bounced her as she tried to understand what she was looking at.

"You... can... hear me?" the little thing asked, hissed? It sounded like a hiss.

"Yeah. Do you... need help there?" Puffy asked as she bounced Patches.

The thing stayed perfectly still. Puffy needed a light, a candle, something other than the dim moonlight.

"Hang on, let me get a light," she muttered as she set Patches down and went to the kitchen to get a candle.

"Well don't leave me with the fuzz demon! She's trying to eat me!" the little guy cried after her.

A candle was easy to get and Puffy always had extra matches. The light illuminated that, yes, Patches was indeed trying to get to the little guy again but that the little guy was human-looking, dressed in green, and was super tiny.

"Aw, you're cute - here, let me get you out of there," Puffy smiled as she chased Patches away. Pacthes, disgruntled that her midnight snack was being messed with yowled in protest and then slunk back towards the front door to look for loose moths.

"Cute?" the little thing hissed angrily. Puffy had no idea what it was. A fae? She'd heard stories as a child about the little fairies. It could be one of those magical things (Puffy had certainly seen plenty of things that had been dismissed as fantasy - Phil's boy was dating a mermaid for fucks sake).

"Yeah - hang on, you got caught up real good in this," Puffy scowled as she tried to get her huge fingers to undo the tangled twine this guy was stuck in.

"No - no you really don't have to," the thing struggles as her fingers played around with his entanglement.

"I'm not leaving you like this," Puffy scoffed as she got one of his (his?) legs free.

"No. I got it. This is all under control," the little guy was probably scowling but it was hard to tell with his hood up.

"Sure," Puffy snickered as she got most of his left arm free, his own tug did the rest, now it was just his torso to worry about. He was twisting and thrashing like a snake as he tried to wiggle free.

"I got you," Puffy tried to assure him.

"Don't touch me!" the thing snapped, a hiss behind the words. "Do you have any idea what I am?"

"No," Puffy lied as she watched him get himself tangled up further. "But I think you need some help."

She let him struggle for a few more minutes until he was quite tangled again. He let out a frustrated shout and then fell limp, maybe in defeat.

"Can I help now?" Puffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," he spat. "Just get it over with."

Puffy managed to pull him free in the next minute, her dream catcher a little worse for wear after all the tugging. As soon as she had him free he was jerked out of her hands.

Suddenly there was a normal-sized person on her wooden floor, scrambling away from the dream catcher and slamming into her kitchen table.

"What the fuck?!" Puffy gawked.

"Just get that thing away from me," the man - boy? growled as he turned around and pointed at the dream catcher. Puffy was finally able to take in his features - which were non-existent behind the pale smiling mask he wore.

"What are you?" Puffy asked as she looked him up and down. He seemed to compose himself, dusting off his green cloak and fixing its hood.

"I am... Dreamon," the thing managed finally, looking antsy as he seemed to study her.

"Dreamon?" Puffy asked.

"Yes - and thank you for... for helping me," he said 'helping' like it physically hurt him.

"It was no problem," Puffy managed back. There was a lot to process at the moment.

"What would you like in return?" Dreamon muttered miserably and Puffy blinked in surprise.

"In... return?" Puffy asked.

"You saved my life, I owe you. What do you want?" Dreamon growled as he crossed his arms, the dots on his mask staring her down.

"I... I don't want anything. I just didn't want you to give Patches indigestion," Puffy shrugged.

Dreamon tilted his head, like one of Puffy's dogs when they heard something they didn't understand.

"You don't want... anything?" Dreamon asked.

"No... I mean... i-I would like to know what you were doing in my house," Puffy sputtered. "And, you know, what you are."

"I'm Dreamon," he repeated again, slower, like that solved everything.

"That answers nothing," Puffy snickered. "You hungry, Dreamon?"

"Hungry?" Dreamon recoiled like he'd been slapped. "What?"

"I've got some bread and jelly," Puffy yawned as she went over to her cupboard. "Do you like raspberry or lingonberry?"

"I... You want to feed me?"

"We'll go with raspberry," Puffy muttered as she pulled the jar off the shelf.

"I won't give you another favor for feeding me," Dreamon stated.

"Okay," Puffy shrugged slowly, seriously - what was with this thing? "So... no raspberry?"

Dreamon threw his hands in the air and sighed. "No... I don't know - I've never tried it."

Puffy gawked. "You haven't had raspberry jelly? What jelly do you eat? Are you a strawberry sort of guy?"

"I - I haven't had jelly?" Dreamon stated, confused it seemed.

"You haven't had jelly!?" Puffy cried.

"No, what is it?"

"Oh my god, you get stuck in dream catchers and don't know what jelly is, what are you?"

"Dreamon," he repeated dryly.

"Right, right," Puffy rolled her eyes. "Well, Dreamon, let's get you some bread and jam."

"I thought it was jelly?"

"Oh my god - "

Eventually, she sat him down at the dining room table, sliding him a plate of bread and jelly which he didn't touch as she ate her own, the exhaustion already setting in.

"So - do you get caught in dream catchers a lot?" she yawned.

"No."

"Just mine then?" Puffy snickered.

"No. I'm just usually smart enough to avoid them. Your cats startled me," he muttered.

"Sure, blame the cats," Puffy smirked as she reached down to pet Bubbles who was rubbing against her leg.

A beat of silence passed and rolled over Bubble's purrs.

"You sure you don't want... anything?" Dreamon asked again. "Riches, power, love? Nothing?"

Puffy blinked in shock as she looked at him. "What, are you some genie?"

"No. I'm Dreamon."

"Right... right - uh, no, I'm good," Puffy let out a long breath. Riches were useless to her (she'd seen plenty in her pirating years), power was... well... yikes. And love... Puffy could hear Niki smirk at the thought and shook her head.

"Nothing?" Dreamon sounded shocked.

"Yeah, no, you don't have to do anything. I really don't mind," Puffy shrugged.

"You saved me... and you want... nothing," Dreamon muttered that a few more times like it was a riddle.

Puffy smiled as she looked down at Bubbles and went to pick him up.

"Don't sound so shocked, I'm not a big fan of - " when she sat back up, Dreamon was gone... so was the bread and jam from his plate.

"... favors?" Puffy muttered to the empty house.

It was a week later when she saw him again. And to be fair - it was the most terrifying thing she ever experienced.

Waking up with someone perched at the foot of your bed is nothing short of fucking creepy!

"JESUS!" she cried as she jumped out of bed. She must've startled him because he jumped in shock and fell backward onto the floor.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" she cried as she watched him stumble to his feet, tilting his head like he couldn't understand what was going on.

"Hi," he greeted, timidly? It was definitely timid.

"What. The actual fuck. Do you think you're doing?" Puffy demanded as she tried to still her frantic heart.

Dreamon shifted on his feet.

"Well?" Puffy demanded.

"Uh... well... I ruined your dream catcher so I'm trying to, you know... do its job until you get it fixed. I thought that would... you know... fix my debt?"

"Your debt... my - wait... what!?"

"My debt," Dreamon echoed.

"You don't have a debt - you definitely do not have to do... whatever that was!" Puffy cried as she gestured to the foot of her bed where he'd been perching.

"But... you saved me?" Dreamon cocked his head the other way.

"You don't owe me anything - how do you keep getting in here!?" Puffy cried.

No response.

Puffy groaned and shoved her face into her palms before running her fingers through her messy hair and opening her eyes.

Dreamon was gone again.

She did not sleep well for the next three days. She woke up many times with a creeping feeling that she was being watched and she hated it.

Finally, she brought it up to Foolish. His jaw must've dropped to the ground when she mentioned 'Dreamon'.

"You have a Dreamon in your house!?" he cried.

"You know him?" Puffy perked up.

"Him? Dreamons are ancient things. They feed on fear and chaos - you know, usually from dreams and stuff. They're... malevolent. Dad, that thing's dangerous."

Puffy blinked a few times as she processed that. "He was caught in my dream catcher..."

"That's - yes," Foolish took a breath and shook his head. "Dream catchers that are made as they're intended to be made are supposed to protect you from those sorts of demons. Most don't because dream catchers are supposed to be gifts, not decorations, but they're gifts made with love and good memories that draw in the negative energy. Niki made it, you said - so you had a functioning dream catcher and it caught a demon... like it was supposed to."

Puffy sighed and put her head in her hands.

"I let him out... " she groaned. "I let loose a demon in my house and the freaking catcher is all beat up so it's not going to catch him again."

Foolish perked up at that. "It's... ruined?"

"Yeah... that was his excuse for watching me sleep," Puffy cried. " He said he was doing its job, trying to repay his debt."

Foolish leaned back in his chair and pondered that. "You... didn't ask for anything from him... right?"

"No, why would I. Especially if he's a demon!?"

"Well... have you had any bad dreams recently?"

"What? No."

Foolish was thinking, Puffy knew that expression. His green eyes were narrow, his lips were tight, his fingers were tapping. He had her 'thinking look'.

"Maybe... this Dreamon isn't bad," Foolish murmured finally. "Or maybe he's just trying to repay a debt."

"He doesn't owe me anything!" Puffy cried.

"That's not how it works," Foolish shrugged. "Gods and demons have a code. If this demon is bound to favors then he has to follow through."

"Then I'll just ask him to leave me alone," Puffy groaned.

"That might work," Foolish nodded. "Ask him, next time you see him. That might just fix all this."

It did not fix anything. Probably because Puffy wasn't able to say it. She woke up two days later to someone talking in her bedroom and before she could jump out of bed - her better sense took over.

"Yes, I think she's... nice." Dreamon... that was Dreamon. Puffy slowly opened her eyes and saw the green-cloaked figure sitting on the floor with not one, not two, but three of Puffy's cat's in his lap.

Belle, who was making kitty biscuits on the demon's thigh, let out a small 'mrowww' and Dreamon tilted his head.

"No, I haven't," he muttered.

He was talking to the cats. Add that to the list of weird things Puffy had woken up to.

Belle meowed again and Dreamon laughed, sorrowfully perhaps.

"I'm not very good at being nice," he muttered as he scratched Belle's head. She enjoyed that very much.

Then, it was Bubble's turn to meow.

"That's not true, she's very nice. It's not her fault you want three meals. You're fat already," Dreamon sounded so serious it almost made Puffy laugh.

Bubble's sounded appalled based on his next meow.

"Yes - yes, you are fat. If I was anyone else I would've eaten you instead of the toast."

Puffy almost did giggle at that as she rolled over and fell back asleep. Look, you can't blame a girl, she was exhausted. And the cats had the Dreamon under control.

"You what?" Foolish gawked as he watched Puffy make up eggs and bacon.

"I think I'll keep him," Puffy repeated. "But I've got to feed him so he doesn't eat my cats."

"PUFFY!" Foolish cried. "This isn't some stray cat or dog - this is a demon!"

"Yeah, but - he seems sweet," Puffy smiled.

"You're insane," Foolish groaned.

"Oh, come on if you met him you'd like him."

"HE WATCHED YOU AS YOU SLEPT!" Foolish cried as he gesticulated wildly.

"Like you said, he's a Dreamon. That's like... what they do," Puffy shrugged.

Foolish looked like he was going to explode in shock.

"He's. A. Demon." Foolish reiterated.

"And you're a God," Puffy smirked back. "You didn't see me asking you to leave when you started summoning lightning."

"That's different!" Foolish cried.

"Mmmhmm," Puffy snickered.

"Dad - "

"I don't think he's going to hurt me if that's what you're worried about," Puffy smiled as she plated the eggs and bacon, leaving it on the table as she checked the clock.

"But - " Foolish whined.

Puffy ruffled his golden hair, shutting him up before he could argue.

"Let's not judge a book by its title... okay? Dreamon or not, I have a feeling about this guy."

"I don't like your feelings," Foolish muttered as he fixed his hair.

Feelings aside, the eggs and bacon that Puffy had left out were gone the next morning. Satisfied, she paid a visit to Foolish who rubbed his head and accepted defeat. His father had adopted a demon now and he would just have to live with it when he visited on Saturdays.

Slowly, Puffy began her evening ritual. She'd make something for the little demon every night and every morning it would be gone.

She didn't feel it went unrepaid either. Small things started happening that were too perfect to be coincidental. She complained out loud to Foolish once about the rabbits eating her vegetables and suddenly the rabbits were scared off - eating from Philza's garden instead. Her windows were always clean, her front porch always swept. Her garden grew brighter in color and health.

There were far more noticeable things too. Small gifts of flowers started appearing everywhere as soon as Foolish left her a bouquet. Dreamon must've figured she liked flowers, and she did. There were be nights when her cats would go crazy, running up and down the halls at the ungodly hours of the morning... but sometimes she'd hear human footsteps running with them and distant breezy laughs that were almost childish. Sometimes she'd wake up to get a drink of water and she'd see someone playing with the dogs outback.

Also, disturbances aside, Puffy was sleeping great. All kidding aside she hadn't had a bad dream or an uncomfortable memory late a night at all. She couldn't believe it was coincidental.

There was only one problem with this whole thing - she couldn't talk to Dreamon. She tried.

She stayed up late, she got up early, she left notes, she talked to him when she was alone in the house. He just never answered.

The creepiness had gone away after the first month, though Foolish and Niki still looked at her like she was crazy sometimes.

"I think he sleeps in the attic now," she had mentioned to Niki one time. "I just hear him walk around sometimes and I wish he'd just come down and talk to me."

Niki had looked at her like she'd grown a third head, then she laughed and asked when she could meet him.

"I think he really liked the Mac and Cheese, do demons usually like Mac and Cheese?" Puffy asked Foolish and he'd just stared at her for a solid second before sighing.

So... maybe she was the only one that was alright with this... but oh well. It was... nice, in a weird and paranormal way.

The niceness faded away one fateful night when Puffy woke up to screaming.

She flew out of bed with someone's screams in her head, but the house was silent.

"What in the world?" Puffy muttered. Patches was at her feet, sitting and staring at the window, her tail twitched. She looked back at Puffy and sorrowfully meowed like she was trying to tell her something.

The memory of the scream echoed in Puffy's mind. It was strangely familiar and... terrifying.

"What is it?" Puffy asked.

Patches jumped off the bed and, with nothing else to go off of, Puffy followed her.

The cat led her to the front door where all the other cats were sitting, looking at Puffy pleadingly.

"What?" she asked them all. Oh god, she was losing it. Now she was talking to the cats.

The dogs were barking, frantically - like they were trying to get at a rabbit. Something was wrong. Puffy felt it in every bone. She scanned the house and noticed that Dreamon's food was untouched.

That was... wrong. Dawn was already lighting up the sky, he would've eaten it by now... so what was wrong.

"Dreamon?" she asked the still house. "Did you not like your Macaroni... too much cheese or something?"

No answer... as usual... but it was an emptier silence this time.

"Dreamon?" she asked again. No response. And it stayed that way.

"I think Dreamon's in trouble," Puffy murmured as she looked Foolish in the eyes.

"Wh- what?" Foolish asked as his eyes darted away from the door and towards Puffy.

"It feels wrong," Puffy murmured as she looked around her house. They sat at her dining room table, Puffy's hands clenched together as she stared at her son.

"Yeah... I was actually going to mention that," Foolish nodded as he looked around. "It feels... weird."

"He hasn't eaten anything in two days," Puffy muttered as she looked to the second untouched meal that sat on the counter. "The cats won't stop yowling for him at night and the dogs are... sulking."

"Do you think he... left?" Foolish asked tentatively.

"I don't know... but he hasn't left me any flowers or anything. I thought he'd at least give me a goodbye or something," Puffy muttered sorrowfully. She thought to mention the screaming she heard before he disappeared but she couldn't guarantee anything.

Foolish had his eyes narrowed again. "How... how have you been sleeping?"

"Alright until last night," Puffy sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "Last night I just had a horrible - "

"Nightmare?" Foolish guessed.

"...Yeah," Puffy murmured slowly. "How'd you know?"

"I've... been doing research," Foolish admitted slowly. "There's not a lot known about Dreamons, Dreamon Hunters keep their secrets to themselves and a lot of old knowledge has just been lost - but I have a few ancient texts from the temples I've raided."

Puffy narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying?"

"Dreamons apparently don't have a personality," Foolish explained. "They're supposed to be fragments of a larger creature, some beast of nightmares. Those fragments feed on memories, nightmares, and dreams. They're malevolent like I said... but your Dreamon didn't move on to another host... and he didn't feed off you."

"Feed off -"

"Off your bad dreams," Foolish explained quickly. "They get sustenance from your fear, so they come with bad dreams. But you haven't had any nightmares."

"No - no I've slept soundly the entire time."

"Right... so..." Foolish shifted uncomfortably. "I'm saying, this... this Dreamon is... unnatural."

"Okay?"

"So... maybe something happened to him because of that - I don't know. I'm just trying to theorize here."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I... I'm just trying to put pieces together," Foolish murmured.

Puffy took a long breath and closed her eyes. There was a terribly empty feeling in the air, a void in the house.

"How about I stay here tonight, maybe we can figure something out," Foolish tried cheerfully, but it was far too forced.

"I... I just hope he's okay," Puffy murmured.

Trapped. Hurt. Tangled. Hurt.

Have to get out - have to get free! Want to go home! No. Why? We have no home. We are one. No - no. Home - want to go home. Let me go home. Hurts. She is not your home. She? Yes... yes, remember. Remember being happy, being safe... full. You starved. Was fed... strange things. Human things. Nice things. Was warm, was happy... was home. NO. You are deformed. You are defective. HURTS! Hurts. Trapped. Tangled. Help... Please.

Puffy woke up in a cold sweat, startling Bubbles off her chest. Her breaths came too quick and her mind raced too fast. That dream had been so vivid, a tumble of emotions and thoughts that Puffy felt in her gut it more than a dream. She jumped out of bed and held her head as her gut twisted.

She felt sick.

A step made her tumble and she crashed to the floor.

"Dad!?" Foolish was suddenly running into her room as she got to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"He's - he's hurting," Puffy gasped through her heaving chest. "I felt him."

"What?" Foolish asked as he ran up and looked her over for wounds.

"I felt him - he sent me a dream... or a thought. He's hurt," Puffy breathed as she grabbed Foolish's shoulder.

That fear, that anger. It had been so vivid she still felt like she was going to hurl. It was worse than any seasickness she'd felt before. She looked up at Foolish, but this time didn't see his eyes.

She saw the green-cloaked figure behind him, standing in the doorway. She had a moment to register it when it lunged and she acted.

Foolish was shoved out of the way as the thing slammed into her, there were claws involved and ow. Okay, she was now bleeding. Still, instincts and training took over as she found her footing, lunged herself, and slammed her head against the intruder's skull. Something cracked and bits of porcelain fell at her feet. Foolish called her name but Puffy already had the upper hand. Her hooves lashed out in a brutal kick that took out a leg with a terrible snap and the thing fell to the wooden floor, vanishing in the darkness.

"What in the -" Puffy began.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Foolish cried. "What happened, why are you bleeding!?"

It had looked like Puffy's Dreamon - god, Puffy hoped she was wrong.

"Stay alert!" she ordered as she looked around and raised her fists. Bubbles was hissing and spitting from where he stood at the bed, his eyes following something neither Foolish now Puffy could see.

"Alert for what!?" Foolish cried.

"The Dreamon," Puffy ordered. Suddenly something dawned on her. "You didn't see it!?"

"NO!" Foolish cried.

"How didn't you see - " Puffy's cry was broken off as the Dreamon lunged again, a blur of white and green that emerged from her shadow, claws going to slash at her face. She ducked as the attack went wide and felt good punching the thing in the face.

It wore a mask too, but this one wore an angry expression on its porcelain face.

"You're not my Dreamon," Puffy sneered as she punched it again.

It stumbled back to the window, holding its cracking mask. Foolish was muttered something in the corner, golden runes being drawn in the air by his fingers but Puffy had no time for that as she continued to beat this doppelganger into a pulp. It wasn't long until it slipped into the darkness again and Puffy cursed.

Bubble's was still hissing and Puffy did her best to look at where the cat was looking. Foolish finished whatever incantation he was reciting, his golden runes exploding into powder and when he opened his eyes, they had a bright sheen to them.

In a moment, Foolish had reached out to his side and ripped a green cloak out of the shadows. The thing let out an inhuman screech as Foolish tried to hold it to no avail. It slipped away and back into the shadows.

"I can see it - I just can't hold it!" Foolish cried.

Hold it - trap it. Puffy snickered and nodded. "Distract it!" she yelled as she ran for the hall.

"I'll try - but it wants you!" Foolish called after her.

It wasn't a long run to the dream catcher in the hall, though, by the sound of it, Foolish wasn't having much luck keeping the thing from following her.

The dream catcher was still a mess but nothing a bit of re-wrapping couldn't fix. What was it Foolish had said... imbue it with happy memories or make it as a gift. Oh god, what if it didn't work anymore.

Think. Think. Puffy began to re-wrap the twine as she thought of Niki and how she made this. They'd been sitting on the beach, Puffy collecting shells, Niki collecting seagull feathers. It had been a warm day, a happy day. Niki had smiled when Puffy gave her the sea's treasures and Puffy had been extactic when Niki shower he the dream catcher she had been working on. She loved it...

"PUFFY!" Foolish cried.

Puffy looked at the re-bound dream catcher in her hand and took a long breath as she whirled around and held it out.

Please work, please work, please.

The Dreamon jumped out of a shadow to her side and she watched in both wonder and horror as it was drawn like a magnet to the catcher, its form shrinking and condensing until it was suddenly caught in the network of the dream catcher.

An angry screech met her ears, something between a human scream and a phantom's cry... and she laughed in relief.

"That worked!?" Foolish gawked as he came up to her.

"I guess so," Puffy took a long breath as she looked at the cretin struggling in the web. "Though now what?"

"I don't know - I'm way out of my depth here," Foolish sighed, messing with his hair

Puffy looked at the struggling Dreamon and smiled slyly as a wonderful idea came to mind.

"I say... it's interrogation time."

"You can either tell me what happened to the other Dreamon, or Patches here is getting a midnight snack," Puffy threatened as she dangled the Dreamon in front of a wide-eyed Patches who was only held back thanks to Foolish's arms.

"No!" the Dreamon denied vehemently as it tried to twist itself free. "No!!"

"Patches... do you want the arm first, or the leg?" Puffy asked holding the dream catcher and the Dreamon closer. Patches was going to get all the treats and scratches after this for putting up with the teasing.

"Wait - wait, wait! He - he was defective. He wasn't doing his job. They took him back! I just took over his territory! I didn't have anything to do with it I swear just - No no no not any closer!" the Dreamon was hysterical now as Puffy did the exact opposite and watched Patches eyes grow to the size of golf balls.

"Defective?" Puffy asked. "How?"

"He - he wasn't doing his job. He wasn't eating. He - he just, like, attacked fellow Dreamons who tried to eat in his territory - but it wasn't like he was eating anything! Look - don't let the cat eat me!"

"What would fellow dreamons do to 'defective' ones?" Foolish asked as he bounced Patches.

"I - I don't know!" the Dreamon pleaded.

"Patches, eat im'," Foolish shrugged as he shoved Patches closer.

"NO! OKAY - Okay - they'd trap him and leave him for Dreamon hunters. Dreamon's can't die unless they're exorcised but that doesn't mean I want to see the insides of a cat! Please - please," the little Dreamon cried as they twisted in the net.

"Trap him?" Puffy echoed in concern. "Trap him how?"

"How do you think!?" the little Dreamon screamed as Patches tried to sniff him.

"Another dream catcher maybe," Foolish offered.

"Any idea where they'd trap him?" Puffy demanded.

"No." An obvious lie.

Puffy shook the dream catcher a few times and listened to the thing shriek.

"OKAY - God, why did he like it here!? I think they trapped him off in the old church. He was all aggressive towards anyone who tried to eat here so they set a trap and he fell into it. I just came to take the free real-estate okay!? I didn't ask to get eaten by a fucking cat!"

"Why did you attack me then?" Puffy challenged.

"Orders! He grew attached to you, some sort of link I don't know, they wanted you dead so they could fix him or something. I just eat and take orders!"

"I say we still let Patches eat him," Foolish offered.

The Dreamon muttered something that neither of them heard.

"No, he'd give her a stomach ache or something," Puffy scoffed as she studied the Dreamon and scowled.

Foolish looked back to Puffy. "What do we do with them?"

"I'll shove them in a closet," Puffy shrugged.

"You can't do tha-" the dreamon began before Puffy did just that and shut the door to the linen closet before any cat could claim an early-morning snack. She looked to Foolish and grinned as he set Patches down.

"To the old church, I'm guessing?" Foolish asked dryly.

"You bet ya," Puffy nodded.

Trapped. Hurt. Alone. Submit. No, fuck you. Obey. No. Hurts. Want to go home. You have no home. Wrong. Home is warm, I like home. You do not 'like'. You exist, you have no preference. I like Macaroni. What? I like daisies more than roses. I like when it rains. Fuck you. I like lots of things. Enough of this rebellion - Obey. No. You are a drone you must obey. No. Hurts. Trapped. Want to be free. Freedom comes with obedience. Stop. Hurts. Won't listen. You are Dreamon, you must obey. No. No no no no. Wrong! Hurts! Then what are you?... Exactly. So Obey.

Breaking into an old church was quite easy. Navigating the catacombs underneath was much less easy.

"What kind of Dream catcher are we looking for, like a tiny one, a big one?" Foolish called from down the hall.

"Your guess is as good as mine!" Puffy called back.

Her mind was pounding with thoughts that were not her own and they'd gotten louder ever since she'd gotten down here. She followed it, that pull, and the thoughts only got louder.

Now though, they grew frantic.

Help. Help, please. There is no help. Submit. No. No help - please!

"I'm coming!" Puffy cried and to her surprise, she heard an answer.

Here! Here please! No! OBEY!

The thoughts were frantic, roiling and frothing at the back of her head and she broke off running. She weaved through the catacombs and felt a pull. She felt her Dreamon, twisting and struggling, a little hand reaching out and she gripped it.

"I'm coming!" she called again.

Here!!

He was calling to her, she could feel him, hear him. There. She stopped before a stone wall and pushed on it. He was there, she felt him. He was on the other side and was calling for her.

"Hang on - " she willed herself as she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and backed up.

She could break down a wall, right? One way to find out!

The first try was a negatory to that, and now she had a bruise on her shoulder. Alright - Attempt number two, this time, utilizing a battering ram. She found a long beam of wood that had fallen from the bracing and heaved it up.

Here!! Here!!

"I hear you baby, I'm coming," she breathed as she lugged the wood over. Foolish was still likely calling her name frantically but Puffy couldn't hear him over the frantic sobbing in her mind.

Here! Please!!

Puffy charged at the wall and was met with ultimate satisfaction as the board burst through the thin brickwork. She easily kicked away enough to squeeze through and ducked into the room without hesitation.

The room was immensely dark, dank, and cold compared to the torchlit catacombs she'd been running through. There were two slits in the roof through which a dim light spilled through from the sliver of a moon that was in the sky tonight. Puffy drew out a match and struck it, her heart freezing as the room came to her in full glory.

There were carvings on the wall, had she taken time to study them she would've recognized runes for purity and evil. She would've noticed the depictions of Dreamons killing and feasting matched with artistic depictions of Dreamons dying. She would've seen a lot of things, but all she cared about was the large and terrible human-sized circular net that lay on the floor with thousands of lines of wire crossing the frame. It was no dream catcher... far from it. The frame was made of stone, raised a few inches from the ground, there were no decorations, no happy memories, only cold runes carved around its exterior.

There, in its center, tangle among the wires that glinted in the moonlight was her Dreamon. He was still, quiet, wrapped by taunt strings in every way.

"Puffy!?" Foolish's voice broke through the silence and Puffy jerked herself out of the shock.

"Here!" she called as she rushed up to the raised circle of this net. "Hey - hey, can you hear me, baby? It's me - it's Puffy!"

She tried to figure out how to reach him when Foolish ducked in - taking a few seconds to fit his much large frame through the hole, but he brought torchlight with him. As the room was fully illuminated he noticed all the intricate carvings and gawked at them for a moment.

"How long as this been under the church!?" he muttered as he turned around.

Puffy paid him no mind as she reached out to one of the wires. She grabbed it and tried to pull, yelping as the taunt wire sliced into her skin.

Oh god.

"What is this?" Foolish wondered in both awe and horror as he studied the runes carved into the side of this circular hellish net.

"The wires are cutting him!" Puffy cried as she looked at her own blood, they must be cutting him - there was no way they were wrapped that tightly around him and not drawing blood when even the smallest bit of pressure made her finger bleed. "I need something to cut them with!"

"Uh - wait, yeah, I got it," Foolish murmured as he looked up from the runes and flexed his fingers. They grew firmer in their golden hue and his nails grew longer until they looked more like claws than fingers.

Foolish's nails made quick work of the wires and within the next minute, Puffy was stumbling into the center of the circle, pulling bloodied wires out of wounds and unwrapping twisted work. She had plenty of work with this back when she fished for food... but this was much... much different.

"These wires were drenched in holy water," Foolish muttered as Puffy worked, holding the wires in his hands. "I can sense it... to hold that power for so long... what the fuck is this place?"

"Dreamon, hey... hey I'm here..." Puffy pleaded as she unwrapped another wire and pulled the boy into her arms. "Come on baby, move... move for me."

He was still, so terrifyingly still in her arms. Did Dreamons have to breathe?

"Here..." a raspy breath reached her ears and she looked in relief at his mask.

"Yeah... yeah baby, I'm here. Hang on. We'll fix you up," she smiled as she pulled off the last of the wires.

"Hurts..."

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure it does," Puffy breathed as she reached under her boy and picked him up - he was light as a feather.

"Do you need help with him?" Foolish asked as she walked the little demon out of the confines of that terrible net.

"No... I've got him," Puffy murmured as she held the little Dreamon closer. Had he always been so small? He didn't seem like a man now... he seemed... more boyish in size. Younger. Childish. Bloodied.

"... u'fy," the boy in her arms rasped.

"Shhh, you're okay," Puffy soothed as she carried him out of that room, just barely squeezing the both of them through the hole she's made.

"You're okay Dreamling," Puffy soothed as she waited for Foolish to squeeze through.

"That's a cute name," Foolish snickered as he came through and came to her side. He then studied the boy in her arms for a few moments, a thoughtful look on his face.

"It suits him," Puffy murmured. A little Dream... A Dreamling.

"He's smaller than I expected," Foolish smiled.

"Yeah," Puffy murmured. "He is."

Her little Dreamling moved again to turn his head into the wool that lay draped over her shoulders.

"Home?" he pleaded, just barely louder than Puffy'd breathing,

"Yes, yes Dreamling," she promised. "I'm taking you home.

#dream smp oneshot #Fanfic #Dream smp fanfiction #C!Dream #Dreamon #C!Puffy #Papa Puffy #C!Foolish #tw: blood #tw: swearing #Shhh let me write my chaos in peace #Look how long that is - ma bad #:)

27 notes · View notes

purplelurkinghini · 4 years ago

Text

Narcissus by the Pond

0. PROLOGUE

Under the cut is the prologue to yet another multi-chapter mess I am planning to write. What is different about this one is the narrator: Edward Nygma himself. Another aspect of this piece that sets it apart from the rest of my writing is its epistolary form. That’s right, baby! First-person POV!

If you’ve seen >> this << post floating around, this is indeed me actually putting that second prompt to use.

Enjoy!

Dear ▚▛▙▙

I found a cat toy while cleaning out my closet today. It was that ashy plush mouse stuffed with dried nepeta cataria which you spent money on instead of saving up for your student loans. If he were still here, he’d be rolling around on the floor in some vivid dream in which he was a lion and it was a gazelle. And, if you were still here, I would’ve asked you to stay.

The day you got that tabby’s claws into me was the day you checked into work late. Frank, our project manager and your internship supervisor, had to drop his showman act and instill in you the fear all WayneTech employees are motivated by. After you offered your excuses and exchanged glances with the floor, you were free to enter the kitchen to heat up the coffees that you went out of your way to fetch for us each morning.

My daily routine, which you’ve played no small role in forming during your short stay with us, was disrupted by the absence of caffeine in my bloodstream. I remember my Rubik’s cube and how I crammed a corner into my palm, squeezing down on the still unscrambled sides. I would call it an ‘absentminded’ action, but we both know that would be an incorrect assessment. My mind is never not present, even as it wanders. For this reason, when you finally came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t not wonder what happened to your sweatshirt. It must’ve been soaked in rainwater, I concluded, and that was the reason you removed it. Or, rather, that was the excuse you used as you removed it. After all, your sneakers were soggy, but you couldn't exactly walk barefoot all over a corporate. Even so, there you were, in a far too small t-shirt which was too tight around your torso and too short to cover your stomach, walking around the office with your brewed bribes.

“Here you go, Jim” you placed the foam cup right in front of his face to get him to notice you. I’d argue that that slip of skin that was eye level to him was enough to get that scatterbrain's attention. He must’ve made a joke, or attempted to, because you laughed louder than anyone should around him.

“Cory,” you sauntered over to him. “I asked the barista for two tablespoons and a half this time.” Sure, he might’ve taken his glasses off before taste-testing it, but his lenses were fogged-up before the lid came off. You felt the most confidence around Cory, the least confident one in our team. While no line of code was too complex for him, women were a mystery he had yet to solve. You see, I haven’t failed to notice you making the most physical contact with him, brushing your hand against his as a means of disarming him.

After he served you a stuttered smile, you moved on to Paul who was pretending to be preoccupied with his screen. He’d been watching you since you walked out of the kitchen, yet still acted surprised when you showed up next to him. You didn’t mean to disturb him, of course, so you tip-toed around his desk, silently setting the cup on a coaster. He thanked you without taking his eyes off of his work, but took the time to watch you walk away as soon as you turned away from him.

"I'm sorry, Ed," you pouted as you placed the coffee on top of a stack of papers. "I know like to have your coffee before 8, but the storm hit while I was in the shop and the whole street took cover in there-"

"Slow down," I released the Rubik’s cube, flexing my fingers. "I'm not your supervisor. It’s not my forgiveness you need."

"Well, no, but I actually want your forgiveness," you covered your mouth in a coquettish display. "I mean-"

“Like I said,” I brush off the blush creeping up on my cheeks. "There's no use for that." Fetching the foam cup, I take a sip of the scolding beverage and brave through it. “There's no use to ask the barista to write our full names either. This calligraphy exercise cost you a scolding from Frank.”

“Actually,” you pulled the hem of your shirt down which only uncovered more of your cleavage instead of hiding your stomach. “I wrote your name myself.”

I stroked the surface of the cup right across the script. Again, I can’t call this action ‘absentminded’ either, but my mind had wandered off again. That lovely lettering was yours and so was the green marker, so you must’ve scavenged your backpack for it on a crowded morning train. You also must’ve taken your time steadying your hand for each stroke, each dot. E. Nygma. You also must’ve cleaned up the cup as it inevitably spilled and steadied your tongue for each stroke, each lick. Maybe you ever sampled the coffee yourself, the taste of cherry Chapstick staining the rim.

“Well,” you interrupted my intrusive thoughts. “Jim’s showing me the new user interface, so-”

“Of course,” I dismissed you and my daydreams.

“Talk to you later.”

Yes, that was the day the cat got his claws into me. It was after I’d drained the drink, and found myself restless still, that I made my way into the kitchen for another one. That is when I spotted you in the corner, cradling the sweatshirt you discarded earlier. At the sound of my steps, you straightened your back, but you didn’t turn your torso towards me.

“Hey, Ed,” you smiled and it was a painful sight because I couldn’t ignore the panic I ignited in your eyes. “Lunchtime already?”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, trying to dry my shirt?”

The closer I got, the more gregarious you grew. You asked about what I’d like to eat, what the guys would like to eat, if I’d like to order out. You didn’t stop until I asked it of you.

“What are you hiding from me?”

Before you could bellow out something long enough to cover the sound, I heard it.

“Did your hoodie just meow?”

It was only then that you turned, facing me fully. “Please don’t tell Frank, but this is the reason I was running late.” Two pairs of eyes were pleading with me. One belonged to you and they were begging. The other belonged to an orange ball of fur and they were unblinking.

You were holding a bottle cap filled with water up to its meowing maw, so you must’ve been attempting to keep the animal hydrated, even after rescuing it from the streets in the middle of a storm. You bought kitten kibbles on your way to WayneTech and that had eaten ten minutes of your time and cost you a scolding from Frank.

“I couldn’t just leave Eddie to drown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you let it sink its little teeth into your skin as it held a single finger close with two whole paws. They feel like needles, I should know, but you carried on cooing the pincushion. “He reminds me of another green-eyed ginger. Maybe you know him.”

Yes, you remember now, don’t you? That was the moment Eddie sunk his claws into me, and I do mean it literally. He released your finger only to get his paws trapped into my button-up. I also mean it figuratively, as I swore to keep your secret the very next second. And, once you were by my side, shadowing me as I was coding like you wanted to since your first day of internship, you made me swear to keep him. How could I not? Your dorm had a ‘no pets’ policy and you had named him after me.

The two of us had time to get acquainted after you left for your evening classes. I fed him the kibbles and was careful not to get caught. And, because I wouldn't be using it that day anyway, I replaced your sweatshirt with my gym towel. While it smelled like a sad, soaked kitten, whatever fruity fragrance you were using had yet to fade from the fabric. That evening I drove straight home as soon as I left WayneTech, skipping my daily workout. My daily routine, as I’ve mentioned, had been modified by you.

“We don't even need to potty train him,” you giggled when you saw Eddie digging through the brand new litter box I had ordered. It had been waiting for me by the front entrance along with the delivery guy and yourself.

You got into a cab before even texting me, asking for an address only after the driver started the clock. I expected that stupid stunt from the likes of Jim, not you.

“He's a clever boy,” I smiled when I saw you were still wearing the green button-up shirt I asked you to exchange that shrunken t-shirt of yours with. “Like his namesake.”

You kneeled before the kitten and produced the plush mouse I'd only seen Eddie play with once. “Did the shampoo arrive? He should be high enough to not scratch our eyes out now.”

After rolling around on the rug with a bag full of catnip, he seemed blissed out enough for a bath. And, after only scratching you twice as you held him for me to scrub his ginger fur ever so gently, we got him all dried and drained. Those green eyes were barely opened as he looked up at us from the cat bed he was supposed to grow into and the sweatshirt he had grown fond of.

“Now we know he hates all water,” you said through gritted teeth as I sanitized your shaking hands. Your fingers were as fidgety as Cory's, yet I doubt his skin was ever that soft. “Not just the rain.”

“I bet he'd hate flees more,” I caressed your knuckles after bandaging the bloody bits.

“I hate the rain, too,” your eyes were downcast, much like earlier that morning, seemingly searching my sheets for something. “I never knew Frank could be so-”

“Terrifying?”

“Mean,” your giggle wasn't as gleeful as I'd grown used to. “I thought he was going to fire me right then and there.”

“He wouldn't,” I squeezed down on the shadows of your hands as they were snatched away from me. Then, I leaned in close and almost brushed your love with my lips as they moved: “He will let the anxiety that comes with that uncertainty eat you alive first.”

“See, now you're being mean,” you laughed, finally looking up at me.

“Me? Never,” I said, satisfied with myself. You were laughing - actually laughing - because of me.

When the dryer dinged, I was confident in leaving you in my bedroom with a smile on your face. After all, I was the one who brought you in there and I was the one who brought that out of you. Once I've collected your clothes, I returned to find you had already removed my button-up and was drying up the rest of your skin with one of my towels. You were turned only half the way, so you must've perceived me in your periphery. Paul pulled the same thing earlier today. Still, you sounded surprised as you covered the side of your breasts I bet you wanted me to see.

"Forgive me,” I turned around, but, unlike you, I did it all the way. “Here you are,” I stretched my arm behind me to hand you the bra and t-shirt.

“Thank you.” It was only after your bomber jacket was zipped to your chin that I dared to look at you directly. Your sweatshirt was Eddie's now, so you covered up with what you had. “For everything.”

“Let me drive you to your dorm.”

"You've already done enough," you pulled out your phone as I walked you to the door. “I'll just call another cab. Eddie needs you here. You need to wear him out, or he'll wear you out tonight.”

“Cats are crepuscular creatures,” I assure you. “Not nocturnal. I'm sure he'll fall asleep before I even turn in for the night.”

Yes, I was sure he'd fall. However, Eddie was so convinced. And, sure enough, there he was, meowing in my face at midnight.

My mistake was letting him get his claws into me. You see, I couldn't bear waking that little bastard up. Not when he looked so small in the middle of your sweatshirt, in the middle of his bed. He finally had a dry place to dream in and I couldn't take that away from him, so I let him sink his claws into me that much deeper.

And yours, as well.

After chasing him with my hand atop of my covers and letting him swat at the finger-spider, he was ready for bed. My bed. Yes, his green eyes were drooping when he surrendered to sleep. It just so happened that he did it on the left side of my bed. And I, not willing to risk another rude awakening, placed him atop of the pillow. Then, ever so silently, I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It was on my way back that I stumbled upon it: your sweatshirt.

I recall calling it off the floor and taking it with me to bed. For Eddie, of course. He loved that sweatshirt, as I'm sure you know. However, as I placed it on his pillow, I caught a whiff of it. It smelled like rainwater, pet shampoo, Eddie, and you. It was your sweat and deodorant, sweet and soapy, just as I had smelled it on my shirt before tossing it in the laundry basket and I couldn't smell it on the left side of my bed.

As I closed my eyes, I saw you. You were walking around the office, their wandering eyes watching you. You pass my desk and I am drenched in your scent. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Your sweatshirt is drenched, so you discard it. Your t-shirt is too tight, so I can see the dip of your belly button and the swell of your breasts. Though I am convinced you had a bra to cover them, my mind wanders. It wanders about the color of your nipples and it paints a picture of them peeking through the flimsy fabric.

And, as my mind wanders further, that flimsy fabric is pulled down, your hands wriggling at the hem of it. That's when those peeks pop out along with the rest. All of a sudden, you're soaking. Sweet. Soapy. You even try to hide this from me, crossing your arms over your chest. I capture your hands, soft skin, and fidgeting fingers, and wrestle with them. Oh, how easily you surrendered to me, sighing in defeat. I lock your arms behind your back with one hand and squeeze your tit like a stress toy. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I had to taste it.

When my tongue touched the tip, you pushed against it, filling my mouth with your flesh. You wanted this. That nipple is as sharp as a needle, but it melts in the heat of my mouth. You wanted this. After your tit is slick with my saliva and the peak is all puffy, I gather the other one in my grip and repeat. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

You wanted this and you told me as much. You said it loud enough for the others to hear. You wanted this. You wanted me. And, as if I haven't done enough, as if I haven't given you enough, I gave you all of me. Clearing the desk, cube, keypad, computer, and all, I slam you atop the surface. I had to pull down your pants for you, but your legs part all on their own. As for your panties, well, they all but dissolved under the duress. You attempt to hide from me again, tightening your thighs together. And, again, you surrender to me all too easily. After all, you want me. Your pussy? As I parted your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest, I saw how much she wanted me. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

However, I was not in a hurry. No matter how hot were your insides and how cold the chills were down my spine, I still took my sweet, soapy, soaking time. I set myself loose, my length slapping against your ass once it sprang free. You shivered, your back arching like a bow and your hands treading through your tangled hair. You wanted me. I took my time, sandwiching my shaft between your pussy lips, sliding across the slick and even wearing your labia as a hood atop its head for a maddening moment. It was only when you began begging, mewling to be mated that I gave myself to you. I crammed my cock inside of your cunt and went in so deep, I felt your heartbeat as your inner walls collapsed around me.

Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I fucked you into a fever, your skin as slick as your insides and your mouth leaking as much saliva as your pussy was spilling precum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Soon, it would've been spilling cum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. When I did come, however, it was in my fist and not between your lips.

As I opened my eyes, you disappeared. There was nothing there to greet me but the strike of the street lights slashing the darkness across the ceiling. Your sweetness had been replaced with my saltiness. It was indeed soapy and soaking, but it wasn’t you. Then, for the second time that night, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.

The day you got cat’s claws into my shirt was the day you sunk your own under my skin. After that day, we shared a secret. I never told Frank about Eddie, but Eddie never told you about what I did in the dark. His glowing green eyes didn’t judge me, but they never let me forget. After you left without a notice, ginning up your internship, changing your phone number and never surrendering your real name, I couldn’t face them anymore. His eyes never let me forget, so I rehomed him.

I found your Gotham U sweatshirt while cleaning out my closet today. The name you gave WayneTech is nowhere to be found in their student records. Your name can’t be found in any police records either. Your real name, however, I am sure will uncover quite the mystery.

Yours,

E. NYGMA

#Edward Nygma #Riddler #Edward Nygma x Reader #Riddler x Reader #It is Not Safe For Work #Riddler x You #Edward Nygma x You

46 notes · View notes