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halsteadlover · 3 years

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𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: No.

• Summary: Jay finds a letter you wrote for him after you were gone.

• Warnings: some curse words, major character death.

• Word count: 1687.

• A/N: this is a really sad one. I hope it turned out okay lol. I decided to go for a Jay x reader for this one. Let me know what you think guys and as always sorry for any mistakes. Lots of love for y'all and thank you for every single like you gave to my previous work. Stay safe out there ❤️

Live your life today because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Jay never fully understood the meaning of those words until they hit him personally. Of course being a cop was dangerous, he knew all the risks that this job carried but he willed to take all of them, he loved being a cop, save the city from bad people, make people feel safe.

He loved his job until now. He now hated it with so much passion because it took the most important thing in his life.

You.

He was sitting on the ground, in front of your tombstone while for the thousandth time he was reading your name carved on marble. He still couldn't believe it. Everything just seemed like nightmare and, God, he wanted nothing more than to wake up and know that it wasn't real.

But it was reality. The love of his life was forever gone.

It had all happened quickly, in the blink of an eye. One shot while chasing a suspect and you were gone. He stayed with you, until the end, until your last breath, your last heartbeat.

“Baby please stay with me... Don't leave me, you know I'm nothing without you ... Please” he cried as he held you in his arms with so much strength. He didn't want to let you go, he wasn't ready, damn it, he never would be. It hadn't been helpful to pray to God with every shred of his being to let you live, to give you another chance, to scream at the top of his lungs to hurry up and get an ambulance. It didn't help because by the time the paramedics arrived you were already dead.

“No, no, no, no, no” Jay cried frantically shaking your lifeless body, stroking your face, your hair, not caring about your blood that was covering him “Y/N, baby, wake up... You're going to be okay I promise you'll be okay... Please wake up don't do this to me... Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours” but your eyes were now dull, devoid of that light that had made him fall so madly in love with you.

“Jay ...” Adam spoke, placing his hands on his best friend's shoulders “She's gone” he told him, his eyes full of tears.

“No! No! No! Get your fucking hands off me! She needs me!” Jay screamed and it took both Adam and Kevin to hold him back and take him away. But he didn't want to leave you, how could they have taken him away from you?

Jay thought he'd suffered, fuck, he'd been through hell through his lifetime but nothing, nothing was comparable to the pain he felt in that moment, to the emptiness in his heart.

“My baby... Hey” he whispered “You promised me”, his fingers gently stroking your name carved on the tombstone “You promised me you'd never leave me. Why did you leave me?”.

Rain was falling from the sky but Jay was numb, he didn't care about his wet clothes, that he'd most likely get a flu. He felt so empty, a chasm in his heart that nothing could fill but you. He'd never felt anything like it, the pain he felt compared to nothing he had experienced, not even the horror of war. He felt like he was dying, he didn't know how to do it, he didn't know how to live without you. He had even run out of tears, he couldn't even cry anymore even though it was the only thing he wanted to do.

How could this have happened?

One moment you were in his bed, your body curled up against his, your head resting on his chest while smiling as you chatted, him kissing your forehead as he whispered how beautiful you were when you woke up and how much he loved you... But now you were gone, your body buried six feet under.

He wanted to ask you to marry him, he wanted to have a big family with you, kids and maybe a dog. He wanted to buy a big house with a garden and a swing, maybe even a swimming pool for the hot days. He saw in you his present and his future but now... Now everything was gone.

The team was distant as they watched Jay, feeling helpless as they didn't know what to do, crying. They knew Jay needed time to mourn your loss but they also knew he didn't want anyone near him. They missed you, of course they did, you were a part of their family and each one of them couldn't wrap their heads around the fact that you were forever gone. As broken and sad they could all be, they knew how difficult it was especially for Jay. God, that man worshiped the earth you walked on, he loved you more that he ever loved himself. The way you looked at each other, the way you talked... They'd never seen anyone love each other as much as you two did. The team knew they not only lost you but part of Jay was gone with you as well.

Jay stayed in that cemetery for hours and hours, as he had done for a week now, talking to you, as if it could bring you back. Will had made him stay at his house to sleep and forced himself to sedate him when Jay refused to do so, in the throes of nightmares and pain. It broke his heart to see his little brother like that and only God knew how much he wanted to take some of that suffering from him, if only he could.

Jay managed to enter the house where you lived only after a month of your passing and even at that moment, as he looked around and remembered what you had, how happy you were, he couldn't know how he was still standing.

He had found a letter while he was rummaging through your stuff, a grip to his heart when he immediately recognized your handwriting. He stroked where you wrote ‘for Jay’, with so much gentleness as if he wanted to imprint every little detail in his memory. With trembling hands he opened it and began to read the contents of that letter, heart beating fast and eyes full of tears.

Dear Jay,

If you're reading this it means I'm no longer there with you. Where do I start? You know I'm not good with this sort of things but I'll try my best.

So first of all I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry if you have to read this and I'm sorry for the pain you're going through. I know what you're thinking right now so let me tell you this, it's not your fault Jay, there's nothing you could've done that you haven't already done. Don't blame yourself darling, please, because I don't blame you.

I don't know why I'm writing this honestly, I just feel like with our jobs tomorrow is not guaranteed and I don't want to leave one day without telling you how much you mean to me baby, how much I love you and how much you've changed me for the better. God Jay, I cannot put into words the feelings I have for you. I love you with every peice of my being and even if I'm not there anymore, know that I'll love you forever and nothing will stop that, not even death.

As George Sand once said “there is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved” and I've never found a so spot on quote because it reminded me of you. I didn't know what love was until I met you Jay and not just that, you taught me to love myself, to love people. You taught me that the world is not that bad like I used to see it and please baby, remember that. I know it's hard right now, I know you may hate everything and anyone right now, but I promise you it will get better as much as impossible it seems to be. The pain you feel will slowly go away and I really wish one day you'll think of me and smile instead of feeling upset. God only knows how much it pains me to know that I hurt you, I just want to see you happy even if I'm not there anymore.

I don't even know if what I'm saying makes sense.

My dearest love, know that I fought, I truly did, and you can't even imagine how happy it makes me to know that you were by my side, that you never left me till my last breath.

I know I promised you I'd stay Jay but life is so unpredictible and it's nobody's fault. I just want to tell you that I'm happy, I have no regrets, I lived fully and I loved as much as I could and I need you to promise me one thing. That you'll be happy again, life is not over baby and it's so beautiful I swear, you taught that remember? Promise me you'll found someone else to love and cherish for the rest of your life, that you'll have the family you always wished for. You went through so much baby, you deserve happiness and peace.

I don't want you to think that I left you because, baby I swear, I'd have stayed till we were grown ass grandparents with white hair and dentures. But, as I said, life is awfully unpredictable and now you need to move forward because great things are waiting for you I promise darling (you hated this nickname but I know how much you really loved it, don't deny it).

I'll be there for you, anytime you'll need me I'll be right next to you, don't ever forget that. Remember that I'm not gone, I'll look at you from up here my love.

I better stop before writing a book, I hope I didn't annoy too much baby.

I love you.

Forever and always.

Your Y/N.

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coexiising · 4 years

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Good Neighbors - Chapter One

SUMMARY ✦ You were excited to learn that someone was finally moving into that old house next to your own. The Skywalker-Amidala family seemed like a great addition to your friendly neighborhood, with their two twin kids and happy personalities. Though, the more you get to know your neighbors, the closer you get to the husband of the family: Anakin Skywalker.

WARNING(S) ✦ Modern! Anakin Skywalker, Alternate Universe, Infidelity, Eventual Smut, not so slow burn, Eventual Romance, Neighbors, and they were neighbors, anakin looks so good in a suit, sneaking around, forbidden love

NOTE ✦ I’ve been wanting to write a Modern! Anakin fanfic for a while now, so here we go! This will be a multi chapter fic, I don’t know how many yet but expect a lot because I’ve got some ideas to play out! This chapter is more of an introductory, but expect some more spicy drama in the next coming chapters.

»»————-　✼　————-««

As tradition goes every year, you could smell the smoke coming from the middle of your neighborhood's culdesac while you made your way outside your garage with your mother, who held a large tray of potato salad in her hands that she insisted she carried herself over to the white tables in the distance. It was hot outside, early July was coming strong this year with the heat, reaching a staggering eighty nine degrees outside and it was already well past noon. Though, you should’ve been expecting the heat, since it seemed to creep up on you every time this yearly cookout happened.

It had been a little tradition, jokingly deemed a ‘holiday’ by your younger brother, that had been going on for as long as you could think back to. You could remember being five years old and running around with the neighborhood kids and jumping into your pool after eating the bountiful amount of food that was supplied for the families that participated. It used to be a handful of them, three or four families that came and had a small little barbeque together. But over time that changed, and now it became a whole neighborhood thing.

The dads of the block always started earlier to get everything set up, which was really the long white tables where food could be set and setting up the large grill on the pavement. And the moms always slaved away in their kitchens making some type of side dish, whether it be fruit cups, potato salads, or whatever. You were twenty two now, almost done with your undergraduate degree, and you wondered if you would ever find this sense of friendliness anywhere else when you eventually moved from your home. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to leave, it was just more convenient for you to stay and you didn’t mind your family that much. They were supportive, there for you no matter what, and your home was close to your University anyways.

“I wonder if Lisa is going to wear that ugly dress she bought the other day,” Your mother stated, making short, languid strides next to you. “She brought it to the house a few days ago when we were having a little wine date and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was definitely not twenty five anymore and that dress did not hug her in the right places.”

You laughed, jokingly hitting your mom on the shoulder. “Mom, come on, it can’t be that bad.” She didn’t respond, only grinning towards you with a hint of playfulness filling her eyes behind her thick, black sunglasses. Your eyes scanned the crowd already forming, kids on the outside running around with a ball. You knew a lot of them, even held some of them as babies after they were born. But when you took another glance at the group, you saw that there were two you didn’t recognize. A boy and a girl, both looking similar to one another and the only difference being the slightly different shades of their hair. “Mom, who are they?” You asked, pointing to the girl and boy who were now fighting each other for control over the soccer ball.

“Oh, they’re the kids of the new neighbors,” Your mom answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You looked over at the house next to your own, a two story one with white coloring and many windows. It had been for sale forever and it became quite the local news when someone actually bought it. You guess you hadn’t realized that the people who bought it were now occupying it. “They’re twins, I think. The mom and dad are on the younger side too. Courtney says that the husband is working at that law firm down on first street and apparently the wife wants to run for senator in a year.” How the hell did she know this much about everyone? You shouldn’t even question it at this point, since she was friends with all the neighborhood moms who loved to gossip.

Looking around for any unfamiliar faces, you were surprised to see none. Were they not coming out for the cookout? It seemed like the perfect place for them to meet everybody. “Oh!” Your mom exclaimed. “I forgot the tongs on the kitchen counter, could you go get them for me, please?” Without a second thought you nodded, turning on your heel and making your way back towards your house. As much as you loved your mom, you were sometimes annoyed with her forgetfulness, especially because you asked her if she had everything three times before you left just a few moments ago. Oh well, it wasn’t that big of a deal, you would be in and out in no time.

You walked up the well cut grass of your lawn to your front door, sandaled foot almost hitting the concrete when you heard the creak of another door. It belonged to the door of the house beside you, the light tapping of shoes making their way onto the patio filled your ears, feeling somewhat foreign since you weren’t used to hearing anything from that house. You wondered what it looked like inside, if everything was rusted and worn. It had to have been almost ten years since someone lived there.

But when you turned to finally get a look at your neighbor, your thoughts were completely halted.

Your mom was right, he, most likely being the husband, was on the younger side. He had to be in his early thirties, still a lot of youth painting his broadened features. His skin was lightly tanned, it was hard not to notice the way that the sun seemed to do a good job in painting his long, muscular arms that reached to close the door behind him. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and black pants, though it wasn’t like something that you had seen other dads wear before, it was more formal, more pristine like he was trying to make an appearance. But if the story checked out, he was supposed to be a lawyer, it was his job to look professional. You continued to look at him, almost shamefully so as your eyes trailed from his clothing to his face, taking in the sharpness of his jaw and the blues of his eyes that very much reminded you of the light blue sky above you now. And then to his hair, which was cut short and had a golden glow to it.

Right as you were about to turn and get into your house, the ball that had been with the group of kids came flying your way, hitting against the door next to you and making you jump at the loud noise. It was lucky that it didn’t fly through a window, or your parents would’ve gone ballistic. You could hear some of the parents start to shout at the kids, telling them to stay away from the houses if they were planning on kicking that thing off of the ground. The same kids you were questioning earlier ran up your lawn, most definitely to retrieve the ball that would’ve hit you dead on if you hadn’t been gawking at their father.

“Luke, I told you to not kick it that way!” The girl, Leia, yelled towards her brother, a little stomp in her step as they made their way towards you. You picked up the ball and held it in your hands, kneeling down and waiting for the kids to approach you. Luke shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his eyes and saying, “It wasn’t me! It was that other guy over there. Why do you always blame me!” You laughed, the dynamic almost reminding you of you and your brother when you were younger.

Handing them the red rubber ball, they both gave you a small ‘thank you’ and Leia muttered a tiny ‘sorry’ and they went on their way. Watching as they went, you didn’t even realize that someone else was walking up to you. Still kneeling, you looked up and saw that it was your neighbor, looking down at you with a tiny, pleasant smile on his face. You blushed, realizing the awkward position and stood up, ignoring the heat coming to your cheeks and offering a smile to him as well. Being this close to him, you could see that he was tall as well, standing a good couple inches over you. Usually this would’ve made you feel intimidated, but for some reason it made you want to draw closer to him. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking this way, knowing that he was your new neighbor, and not to mention he had two very cute twins and a wife who was probably beautiful.

“Sorry about that, I hope they didn’t scare you that bad,” He said, taking a glance at his kids who were already starting another round of whatever game they were playing with the others. His voice was low, but there was a sense of calm to it. It wasn’t rough or gravelly, almost like honey as he spoke to you. “I haven’t seen you here before, do you live here? I think I’ve seen your mom and dad around but we were waiting until the cookout to introduce ourselves.” Kind of a stupid question to ask since you were standing on your porch with your keys in your hand, though you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, um,” You thought back to the day you saw your neighbors two cars parked in the driveway, was that a Sunday? No, it was a Monday. “I’m usually around here more but last week I had to pick up a couple shifts at work to help my friend.” Your coworker and friend came down with the flu and had to find someone to cover her ships ASAP, and you weren’t doing anything important and stepped in to help.

He nodded. “Makes sense. I’m Anakin Skywalker, you already met my kids but they’re Luke and Leia.” Skywalker. A strange last name that confused you for a moment, realizing that you’ve never heard of anything like that before. Then again, you hadn’t heard of the name Anakin either, but somehow the unique name fit him.

“Y/N,” You responded, giving him a nod.

“Y/N,” He said, like he was testing the name out on his tongue. You tried to ignore the feeling you got when you heard it come out of his lips, which were very nice by the way when you took a second to glance at them. It sounded good in Anakin’s voice, and you found yourself wanting him to say it over and over again if he would. There was a moment of awkward silence between the both of you, a random amount of tension that you didn’t know if you were imagining or not. Then Anakin opened his mouth again to say, “My kids were looking at the pool in your yard the other day when they were exploring our backyard.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said. “They’re welcome to come over any time and use it if they want.”

“Are you sure?”

It was normal for the people in the neighborhood to use it if they wanted to. It was a big underground pool that had been built when you were a little kid. “Yeah, everyone does. Just make sure to ask someone before and they’ll most likely say yes. We like to get the most out of it every summer.” You realized that you were supposed to be back with your mother, she was most likely getting antsy as to what was taking so long. So you took the opportunity to leave, even though you wouldn’t mind staying and talking to your new neighbor for as long as he wanted to. He wasn’t just attractive, you thought that he was nice too.

“Well, I need to get something from the house and get back to my mom. See you later, Mr. Skywalker.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Just Anakin is fine.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Right, see you later, Anakin.” He gave you one last smile and right as you turned around, you could’ve sworn you saw a wink. You turned on your heel, ignoring the eyes he clearly had on you and making your way into your house. The moment the door was closed, you leaned against the wood and closed your eyes, replaying that last moment over and over again in your head. Had he really winked at you? Or was that just your mind spinning some kind of fantasy?

Oh, Christ.

It was hard to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach.

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #modern #modern au #star wars modern au

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kiirokero · 4 years

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Zephyr (MYG)

Zephyr: A soft gentle breeze; Comforting wind on a hot summer's day.

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Florist!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, mentions of death (not major, don’t worry) Yoongles doesn’t know how to express himself, soft boi hours.

Note: Time for me to pass out. We’re back on schedule hoes. :)

Summary: First, it was flowers for your grandmother. Next, it was flowers for a sick friend. Now, its flowers because the handsome flower shop owner lives in your head rent free.

Word Count: 4.3k

A dense, luscious forest surrounds Bangtan Village. Filled with sturdy oak trees and delicate blooming flowers. As far as the eye can see, it’s nature. Trees stretch to the heavens, touching the sky with their strong appendages. Flowers draping over the petrichor forest floor, gracing those who walk through its lush maze.

It’s magical, really. Some rumour that Bangtan Village is ancient, rivaling the Mayans. Local historians say that the people here were protecting something that lays dormant in the forest. What that relic is? A mystery to most. But town elders always warn against wandering in the woods. Whispers of a magical heart that keeps the town alive roles through the town every year after New Year’s celebrations.

Because nobody knows why every year the village gets a new influx of natural resources

But thanks to this odd phenomenon, Min Yoongi never runs out of flowers. Peonies, sunflowers, hibiscuses. Every kind of flower grows in that forest, regardless if it scientifically should. Everyone collectively dismisses the impossible things that go on beyond those trees. Ignorance is bliss.

So because of the logic defying forest, Min Yoongi always has the best flowers. Which, in turn, means you always know where to find spider lilies.

Any event. Birthdays, weddings, minor celebrations. They always called for flowers. That was your motto. Flowers make everything better. Roses here, daisies there. Nothing can go wrong with flowers. They can make someone smile, ignite love, mourn a loss. Flowers can do anything, and your glad Min Yoongi indulges your thinking.

She loved roses.

Your grandmother was a bit old-fashioned. Not the most tech savvy, would rather do things by hand, and was a sucker for a beautiful red rose. Maybe it was because those were the flowers in her wedding bouquet. Or maybe its because your grandfather always brought her one every single day before he passed. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is your getting her those roses, one last time.

When you first walked into Min’s Flowers, it had a peculiar petrichor smell. Like the shop was in an endless cycle of spring. Solf showers and light rays. It was a comforting calmness that soothed the cracks in your heart. Every which was there was a flower resting in peaceful serenity.

All the flowers seemed to look dreary, or maybe the soft petals were acting as a mirror, reflecting the melancholy of the day. You wouldn’t know. The only thing currently on your mind was red roses. Red roses. You needed to get those red roses.

Walking deeper into the shop, the walls greeted you with blissful silence. Not a sound was made, not a person in sight, shopkeeper or customer. It was just you and the flowers. A cruel thing, really. Alone with beautiful works of art that couldn’t distract your racing mind with words, only looks. But everywhere you looked, memories of your grandmother lingered. You needed words to revive your slowly beating heart.

“Hey, can I help you with anything?” A gruff voice sounded through the hazy, quiet aura of the shop. Turning around, you saw a man with scruffy noir hair. He wasn’t the tallest, but wasn’t short either. He had sharp brown eyes that emanated a hidden warmth encased in cool glass. His skin was as pale as petunias and he wore a desaturated blue apron with flowers peaking out of the pocket.

“I’m looking for red roses...” You somberly informed, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice. His cat-like eyes slightly softened, flashing a look of sympathy for your lost soul. You wondered if he often encountered lost souls here in the shop, using his business as a pit stop in a wayward journey. “I have just what you’re looking for,” He said, gesturing me to follow him.

He led you through the shop in silence, like a drifting ghost. He floated elegantly through his shop, uncaring of the twist and turns that appeared in his way, even if there were few. Soon, he led you to an area full of roses, all different colors. White, blue, yellow. It was a beautiful image.

But he walked passed them, going towards a door in the back. “Where are we going?” You asked, stopping just a bit behind him. “Those roses are pretty, yes, but I think you need something more,” He said, face unchanging from a stoic expression. He opened the door, walking inside to grab something out of the artificially sun lit room.

Reappearing, he held a bouquet full of two dozen bright red roses. The petals undamaged, their color as lush as the day they came out of the Earth. “I’ve been saving these for a special occasion, I think they’d be of use to you now,” The man said, handing you the bouquet, You held them gently, afraid to damage the perfect flowers.

“How are they so perfect?” You marveled, unable to peel your eyes away from the beauty of which you held. “A lot of odd things happen in Bangtan,” Was his answer, nothing more. “Go on, I’m sure you have somewhere to be,” He said, putting a soft hand on your back, guiding you to the entrance you came in from.

“But I have to pay!” You protested, but the man didn’t stop guiding you. “Consider it a gift,” He shrugged. “But I don’t even know your name,” You argued, looking at him incredulously. “It’s Yoongi, what’s yours?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. “Y/n,” You answered. “Well Y/n, it was nice to meet you. Now go on, I hope those roses bring peace,”

You didn’t go back to Min’s Flowers for three months. You decided it would be best to mourn in your own way, by yourself. That didn’t mean your close friends didn’t keep an eye on you though, Jimin and Jeongguk would never let you forget that they were there for you. Whether it was late night junk food runs to Hoseok’s store or messing around with Taehyung at the bakery. They made sure you knew they were there, waiting for you when you were ready to be picked back up and put back together.

Which you were. You picked yourself back up and hammered yourself together. Life didn’t wait for anyone. Seasons still changed, flowers still bloomed, zephyrs still came and went. Maybe the tape you used to patch yourself up was still a bit brittle, maybe the glue you used to fill the cracks in your heart hasn’t quite dried yet, but you were okay.

And Jimin was not. Poor bastard caught a nasty case of the flu and has been miserable ever since. Jeongguk and you have been taking care of him whenever you could, and when he started complaining about missing the outside, flowers seemed like the perfect remedy. “I really like yellow and white chrysanthemums”

Those were Jimin's words when you asked him what his favorite flower was, and by golly were you going to get him the prettiest yellow and white chrysanthemums ever. So that’s how you found yourself back at the shop which aided your once wayward soul.

The shop still had that same comforting petrichor scent. Memories of the pixie like world that the flower shop simulated came back to you as you saw the same flowers in the exact same places as last time. When you first came to the shop, you had a heart leaking with melancholy. Now, you have a heart with scars and a mission to make your friend feel better.

“Oh, you’re back,” A familiar voice said. Turning, you saw the same man as before. He had mint hair now, standing at the counter. “That I am, Yoongi,” You said. You don’t know why the name stuck in your head the way it did, but you couldn’t forget it. Every time you thought about getting some flowers, Yoongi popped into your head.

It surprised Yoongi that you remembered his name. He thought that the interaction between the two of you was significant to him and him only. But hearing your soft utterance of his name made him freeze longer than he should’ve. “I’m surprised you remember me,” He said, cracking the slightest of smiles.

“You’re memorable, I suppose,” You chuckled, taking a few steps deeper into the indoor forest that was Yoongi’s flower shop. “So what brings you here this time?” Yoongi asked, not taking his eyes off of you. “My friend’s sick, so I wanted to get his favorite flower to cheer him up,”

Yoongi nodded, walking around the counter to stand in front of you. “Well, I can guarantee that I have it here. What are we looking for?” He said, voice unchanging from a dull tone. “Yellow and white chrysanthemums,” You said, and Yoongi didn’t need to hear anymore before he was guiding you once more through the shop. The floor was slightly wet, showing that Yoongi had watered the flowers recently.

Quietly, he led you to where he kept the chrysanthemums, gesturing one of his hands to the yellow and white ones. “Go ahead and pick. A dozen flowers are 9,000 won,” Yoongi said, walking away to do his shopkeeper things.

That day you stayed in the shop a bit longer than you expected. You and Yoongi talked for what seemed like forever. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it hours, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t care, Yoongi was like a breath of fresh air. A whispering zephyr during the summer solstice.

So you kept coming back, again and again. Every day after work you made your way to Min’s Flowers, eager to talk to your new florist friend. You would arrange bouquets with him, tell him jokes, watch movies on the tv he had in the back. No matter the day or the weather, you never failed to meet with Yoongi every single day. Sometimes with Jimin and Jeongguk, sometimes alone.

You couldn’t get enough. Yoongi couldn’t get enough, and that scared him.

Min Yoongi was a quiet man. He preferred to stick to himself, hoping to limit the amount of human interaction he had on a daily basis. It’s not that he didn’t like people, per se, but he just rarely got along with others. It was a problem for him since Kindergarten. Being overly blunt with peers or arguing with the teacher.

He just drove people away with his cold aura and “unforgiving” personality. Yes, Yoongi had friends. He had Hoseok, Namjoon, Jin, Taehyung, even Jimin and Jeongguk hung out with him from time to time. But he’s never had that certain type of connection with someone.

Yoongi used to think he was critically apathetic. That no matter how much he wanted to bounce off the walls in celebration when Taehyung met his business goal, he couldn’t. He couldn’t muster up anything other than a “That’s good, I’m happy for you,” And he was! He knew he was, but he didn’t quite express that he was.

It left Yoongi feeling inferior, like he was a bad person. What kind of friend comforts you after a breakup by saying, “Love is dead anyway,”? Min Yoongi, apparently. Yeah, Yoongi had feelings. Things made him sad, mad, happy, annoyed. He wasn’t entirely broken. But those feeling felt like they were dampened, diluted.

“Aren’t you happy? Sad? Mad?” Those were the words Yoongi dreaded, because the answer was always yes. Yes, he was happy that Jin got a girlfriend. Yes, he was sad that Jeongguk couldn’t find the person painting flowers all over Bangtan village. Yes, he was mad Jimin shattered one of his terracotta pots. He just didn’t express it well.

But you never seemed to care.

You took Yoongi’s blunt words at face value. You believed him when he said, “That’s funny,” at one of your embarrassing childhood stories. You didn’t question why he wasn’t crying during “The Notebook” even if the tragic story silently broke his heart. You took his small smile just as seriously as you would a full one. That made Yoongi happy, even if he couldn’t express that to you.

You didn’t treat Yoongi’s lack of expression as a bad thing. You didn’t think he was cold and uncaring, because you knew he was. Actions speak louder than words. When he bandaged your ankle after you slipped in a puddle one day in the shop. When he gave you half of his granola bar after hearing your stomach rumble. Or how he never fails to ask how your day went, even if it sounded rather uncaring to the average person.

Yoongi didn’t know when it happened or how. Yoongi didn’t know why your simple touches turned smouldering to him. Or why your smile was a picture he’d look at forever. He doesn’t know when he started eagerly looking at the clock, waiting for 4pm when you’d undoubtedly would come visit him at the shop. Yoongi didn’t know when it hit him, when his horribly suppressed emotions made him feel something like no other.

Yoongi didn’t know when he fell in love with you, but damn did he fall hard.

“Alright Yoongs, I agree with you on most things, but mint chocolate ice cream is definitely not it.” You argued, poking his carton of green ice cream with your spoon. “Well, coffee-flavored ice cream is weird too,” Yoongi retorted, stuffing a spoon full of ice cream monstrosity into his mouth. You dramatically gasped, “Yoongi! Coffee is totally a valid flavor,” You laid your head on the table inside Yoongi’s back room, putting a hand to your heart, “You wound me,”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, going back to his pint of frozen goodness. “You’re ridiculous,” He said, shaking his head. “Hold on, I speak Yoongi. You just said that I’m funny and you love me,” You teased. Yoongi felt his face slightly flush at your words, but he cleared his throat, changing the topic. “Whatever, wanna arrange a wedding bouquet with me?”

You quickly sat up, stars in your eyes as you ecstatically nodded your head. “Hells yes!” Yoongi hummed, grabbing both pints of ice cream and putting them away in the mini refrigerator he had. “Let’s go then, I already have my work space set up,” He said, walking out the room to which you happily followed him.

“So, a marriage? Is it a big one?” You asked. Yoongi shrugged, sitting down in his work chair to which he already had a spare one set up next to it. “I guess, I mean, how big can things get in Bangtan Village?” He said, picking up roses and cutting off bits of their stems.

“I dunno Yoongs, remember that time you found a huge sunflower in the forest? Bangtan Village may have a small population, but things can get pretty weird here,” You chuckled, joining Yoongi in his somewhat tedious task. “Yes, you are correct. Many things in that forest surprise me.” He said, nonchalantly.

“Really? Are there fairies? White stags? Gremlins?” You asked, turning towards the man contently snipping away at the stems next to you. “You and your fairy tales,” Yoongi sighed, secretly finding your interest in the unexplainable cute.

The two of you worked together in silence, enjoying each other's presence as the artful skills Yoongi had with flowers created beautiful bouquets. But the silent atmosphere was suddenly broken when your phone rang. Fishing it out of your pocket, Jeongguk's face appeared on the screen. You excused yourself and answered the phone outside, leaving Yoongi alone in the room. To him it felt a bit colder now.

A couple minutes later, you peaked your head in the door, gaining Yoongi’s attention with a smile. “Sorry to say this Yoongs, but I have to help Jeongguk with something,” You said. Yoongi felt disappointed, but his face remained unchanging. “Oh... Okay... Do you- Nevermind,” Do you have too? Is what Yoongi wanted to ask. He didn’t want you to go, he wanted you to stay and make pretty flower arrangements with him. But he couldn’t express it.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, don’t miss me too much, okay?” You joked, bidding the gruff florist a farewell. Yoongi tried to. But he really did miss you. Not only that, he felt... Jealous... He found himself wishing he was Jeongguk or wishing that you left your phone on silent so you wouldn’t hear his call.

It was selfish, Yoongi knew that, but that didn’t mean the feeling didn’t go away. He didn’t like this feeling. His emotions may feel weaker than others, but jealously always came on strong. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn’t he just admit his feelings for you, ask you out on a date, tell you all the things that ran through his head about you?

He needed to do something. What if Jeongguk made a move on you? What if you guys were kissing right now? Or worse, on a date... Yoongi’s heart felt heavy. His heart was heavy and his stomach was queezy.

One good thing came from Yoongi’s less than normal emotional responses. It meant embarrassment and shame were less of a bitch. Still total bitches, but bitches on chill pills. “Alright,” Yoongi told himself, “Operation fuck my emotional response and ask Y/n out on a date is a go,” Yoongi immediately pulled out his phone, dialing his friend Jin.

“Hello!” Jin answered. “Hyung... I need your help with something.” Yoongi said, his voice deadly serious. “What’s up?” Yoongi took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his apron.

“You have a girlfriend...” Yoongi blurted out

“Yes...?” Jin chuckled

“And you asked her out,”

“That is correct.”

“How did you do that?”

Yoongi heard Jin’s squeaky laugh through the phone. “What?” He asked, confusion clear in his voice. “How d'you ask her out...?” Yoongi asked again. “I told her that I had feelings for her and asked her to go out with me,” Jin answered, most likely shrugging those broad shoulders of his. “How were you able to express your feelings?” Yoongi sighed.

Jin was well aware about Yoongi’s trouble expressing himself in a way that didn’t make kids cry from his scary, brooding face. He had even helped him on a few occasions when he had to apologize and look like he meant it, (Whether he really did or not) But expressing a feeling like a crush or even love, was different for everybody.

“Yoongi, are you trying to ask that Y/n girl out?” Jin inquired, hearing a thing or two about you from when Yoongi dropped hints here and there. “Yes...” Yoongi said, resting his chin on his hand in defeat. “Yoongi, buddy, there’s no “right way” to express your feelings to somebody, you just have to do it in a way that is right for you.” Jin advised.

“But the way I express things isn’t particularly... Nice,” Yoongi said.

“Yoongi, if she likes you too she’ll accept that your just you,” Jin stressed, “And if what you tell me about the way she treats you, I’m sure she’ll understand just how hard and serious it is for you to admit something like this,”

Maybe Jin was right, you’d get that he’s basically head over heels for you, right? You know how he operates. You always treated him like a normal human with normal expressive capabilities. Okay, he’ll do it.

Yoongi can’t do this. What was he thinking? Inviting you over at 9pm to “help him with flowers” was probably the worse idea he’s ever had. You probably think he’s a weirdo. More of a weirdo than he actually is. What is he supposed to do?

Well, it was too late. Because you just came barging through the door with a bag of takeout and that beautiful, blinding smile on your face. “Yoongs!” You exclaimed, placing down the food and giving him a hug. “Another emergency flower order?” You asked, taking out styrofoam containers and disposable chopsticks.

“Um... No. Yes... No,” He said, unusually indecisive. Yoongi sighed, sitting down at the table and taking a huge bite of the food that you handed him. “Yoongs, are you okay?” You asked, brows creased in worry. “I’m fine,” He shrugged, but you knew better.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit off,” You pushed, hoping he would give you the honest answer. “Mhmm. I just- uh... I’m just tired,” He answered, turning his attention back to his food. You frowned, picking your lukewarm dumpings.

You liked to call yourself a Yoongi translator. You knew a lot about his body language and usage of words. “I’m fine.” Usually meant just that. He was fine and meant it. But paired with his odd behavior just moments ago, you knew something was up.

But you also knew that Yoongi wasn’t an expressive person. He didn’t show powerful emotions very often. Yeah, he’s genuinely smiled before and chuckled. However, that was few and far between. Yoongi wasn’t good at expressing himself, and now that fact only worried you more.

“Hey Yoongs, you know the meanings of different flowers right?” You asked, brewing up an idea in your head. “Um, yes. You revealed that embarrassing fact when you snooped through my old books.” He said, raising his eyebrow incredulously. “What are you planning?” He asked.

You said nothing, instead opting to grab Yoongi and drag him out into the store. “Tell me how your feeling, but with the flowers,” You said. Yoongi looked at you like you’ve grown 3 head, “What?” He asked, still sounding iconically unimpressed. “I know something’s bothering you. I know it’s hard for you to express things sometimes, so tell me without words,” You explained, urging Yoongi to do as you say. “You don’t know the meanings though,” He argued. “Wrong. I studied them for a month straight to impress you. It’ll be fine,” You gave him a smile, and he felt his resolve breaking.

Yoongi thought about it for a second. Originally he was planning on just forgetting his entire plan and watching trash tv with you in the back until the sun came up, but this could work. Does he want it to work? Will you understand what he means when he gives you a pink camellia? Will you be weirded out if he presented you with red chrysanthemum?

It was worth a shot.

Yoongi sighed, giving into your admittedly smart idea. This could work. Yoongi ran around the shop, picking out flowers of different kinds and colors, coming back to you with a messy bouquet. “Okay, lets begin. You won’t have to talk or explain, you can just nod your head,” You said. Yoongi nodded, handing you his first flower.

A yellow hyacinth.

“Jealousy? Are you jealous of someone?” You asked,

Yoongi nodded.

A vine of ivy

“...Friendship? A friend? Are you jealous of a friend?”

Another nod.

Gardenia

“Secret love... You have a crush on somebody?” Your heart stung a bit at that one, but you schooled your emotions. This was about Yoongi, not you. “Your jealous of your crush?” You asked, but Yoongi shook his head no. “Your jealous of... your crushes friend...?” You guessed, Yoongi nodded, stoic face still unchanging.

A red columbine.

“Anxious, your crush makes you anxious?” You asked. Yoongi didn’t answer right away, but he lifted his hand and made a “sort of” motion. You racked your brain again for a moment. “Having a crush... makes you nervous?”

Yoongi nodded

“Is it because your bad at expressing yourself?”

Yoongi gave you a ‘duh’ face, holding out another flower.

A yellow carnation

“They rejected you?” Yoongi shook his head, pointing back to the red columbine, “Ohhh, you’re scared that they will reject you.” A nod.

Yoongi had one more flower left, but he didn’t give it to you just yet. He hid it behind his back, away from view, so you opted to cheer him up a bit in hopes that you’ll be able to comfort him enough to express this last thing. “Yoongs, you’re a great dude! Anybody would be lucky to have you! Sure, maybe your not as dramatic as me, but you care in your own way. That’s all that matters,” You said, giving him a smile.

Yoongi looked away from you to the side. He wasn’t usually a nervous person. Why is he so nervous? Why is this the one emotion that’s cripplingly strong? He could do it. He didn’t even have to say anything, just hand you the goddamn flower. He’s psyching himself out. Quickly, he thrusted the flower towards you without thinking.

Chucking, you took it in your hands

A red rose.

I love you.

“Yoongi, you should give this to your crush, not me,” You chuckled, but Yoongi didn’t move, just stared at you with unimpressed eyes. “Yoongs, you don’t mean...” “I love you,” He blurted out, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. “Y-You do?” You asked.

One last nod.

“Sup loser,” You lovingly greeted your grumpy boyfriend, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Yoongi rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist from where he was sat in his work chair, meticulously finishing up his last order of the day. “And you claim you love me when you treat me like that,” He said, voice gruff and scratchy from not using it for a while.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” You chuckled. Yoongi bent down under the table and grabbed a flower, wordlessly handing it to you. “A red camellia?” You asked, taking a whiff of its pleasing aroma. “I’m expressing,” He said, and you nodded, understanding.

Yoongi’s gotten a bit better with expressing himself, but it can still be hard for him. As a solution, he talks to you in flowers when he wants to say something but can’t form the words. “You’re the flame in my heart too Yoongs,” You smiled, kissing the top of his head

Yoongi might not know the exact moment he fell in love with you. All he knew is that it happened swiftly and silently.

Like a zephyr on a warm day.

#yoongi #min yoongi #suga #yoongi x reader #bts #bts fic #bts oneshot #yoongi oneshot #fluff

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (2)

Autumn Serenade

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

Many hours later, the door clicked closed, and Marinette sat up straight in attention. “Adrien?”

“No girl, just me,” said Alya. “Did you sleep at the table all night?”

Sunlight poured in the window.

“I guess I did.” Marinette rubbed at her eye, smearing her mascara. “What time is it?”

“Morning time. Almost 8. I’m surprised Sunshine isn’t still here. I have expected to catch you both cuddling on the couch together. Did you just…fall asleep at the table?”

Marinette didn’t answer, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Marinette?”

“He bailed on me. Ghosted me. Not even a text.”

“He what!?” She shrieked. “Why that dumb little—“ Alya whipped out her phone, and called someone, putting them on speaker.

“He didn’t answer me, Alya, don’t even try.”

Instead, Nino’s voice spoke over the line. “What did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget anything! It was that Best Man of yours!”

“Adrien? What did stuffed-with-fluff forget?”

“He forgot Marinette!”

“Marinette? He ghosted her!?”

“Yes! He never showed! And he’s not answering any calls, so you better get a good excuse from him! He better be dead or in the hospital, or I’ll put him there!”

“Alya…” Marinette said weakly. “I’m sure he has a good excuse…”

“I’ll call him,” Nino promised. “I’ll figure this all out. He’s a good boy, I know he wouldn’t just…not call.”

“I want to believe that too,” Alya said with pain in her voice.

Then, Marinette’s phone rang, and she hurriedly answered it, not looking at the number. “Hello?”

“Hello Miss Dupain-Cheng,” said Nathalie.

“Oh, good morning.”

“I’m calling to inform you that next week, you’ll be working from the office all week. Mr. Agreste is…feeling unwell.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you for letting me know. By chance, is Adrien there?”

“No.” And without anything else, Nathalie hung up.

“Rude,” Marinette muttered to herself. “Something smells fishy.”

Nino called back a minute later. “I can’t get a hold of Adrien either. He’s not answering his phone.”

Alya frowned, arms crossed. “Fishy indeed.”

“Well, he can’t avoid me forever. I am Gabriel’s intern, so I’ll corner him sometime.” Then a horrible realization came over Marinette. “Oh god, he didn’t actually ask me out!”

“What? Did you daydream this whole thing?!”

“No! He asked me if I wanted to have dinner, and he said he had something important he wanted to tell me! But he never clarified that it was a date! I kissed his cheek! What if he panicked!? Alya, this is my fault!”

Nino laughed from the other end of the line. “Dude, this is so not your fault. It sounded like a date to me. He still owes you an explanation. Regardless of what type. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Nino’s got it right, Marinette. You didn’t do anything wrong. When he stops being such a butthead, he’ll come groveling. I promise.”

“Yeah, well, we can only hope.”

Through the trees

Comes Autumn with her serenade

Melodies

The sweetest music ever played

Autumn kisses we knew

Are beautiful souvenirs

A whole week of silence was torture. Marinette continued to go to work, and put on her big girl pants and acted like everything was fine. Gabriel only communicated to her through emails, and she was unanimously thrust into the leadership role in his absence.

It was frustrating, annoying, and stressful, since she was not prepared to become CEO overnight. By the end of the week, she had run herself ragged. Fueled by coffee and fear of failure, she wrapped up her last project for the evening, and went back to the apartment.

There, blessedly, Alya and Nino greeted her with hugs and leftovers.

“Rough day?”

“Rough week! Mr. Agreste has been basically AWOL, and I’m the one filling in! He doesn’t answer my phone calls or texts, and answers my emails an hour after the fact. I’m exhausted!”

“And Nathalie didn’t say anything to you?”

“Nope, she’s sealed up tight. Apparently, Gabriel is sick. But I can’t get any news about Adrien. Honestly, I’m about one mental breakdown away from breaking down the gates and demanding answers.”

Alya chuckled. “No need to be so drastic, Marinette. Maybe both of them got the flu, and Nathalie is forbidding them from doing anything but resting. You know how strict she is.”

Marinette kicked off her shoes and leaned her head back on the couch. “I know, I know, and you’re probably right. It might be best if I come up with a plan in case this ever happens again. Specifically Gabriel getting sick, not Adrien being a coward.”

“It’s weird though,” Said Nino. “Adrien’s always been overly considerate. Even after all this time, he still asks too many questions about social faux pas. For him to just ghost you, for a whole week even; it’s concerning.”

Marinette had tried not to think like that. Adrien being awkward and scared was so much easier to stomach than something tragic befalling him.

And yet, if it had, wouldn’t she know by now?

She took out her phone, and called Nathalie, much to the curious gazes of Nino and Alya.

“Hello Marinette.” The woman greeted, as stoic as ever. “I was under the impression that you were done for the night.”

“I am. I just...haven’t heard from Adrien all week.”

“With Gabriel ill, Adrien has been busy, much like you. It wouldn’t surprise me that social calls would fall to the wayside.”

“I was just...worried. Is he there?”

“Yes. He’s fine.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“He’s asleep. He’s had a hard week. You’ll see him Monday, as Mr. Agreste wants you working at the manor.”

“Oh, okay then. I guess...thank you, Nathalie.”

“You're welcome.” The call ended.

“So he’s not dead in a ditch.” Marinette announced. “Nathalie said he’s asleep. And I’ll see him Monday.”

Nino frowned, though he didn’t say anything.

It was just...odd.

As I pause to recall

The leaves seem to fall like tears

Silver stars

Were clinging to an Autumn sky

Monday morning, Marinette went over to the mansion. She rang the bell, and the gates opened. She crossed the quiet drive, the gates shutting behind her, and approached the door.

There was usually someone there to open it to greet her, whether it was Nathalie or the Gorilla. Not this time.

Marinette took hold of the handle and opened it herself, for the first time ever. She didn’t think they would mind, if the gate opened.

“Hello?” She called. “Nathalie?”

The lights in the foyer were off. And despite the large windows beside her, dark shadows hung in the corners like cobwebs.

The house felt empty. Cold, and dark. The manor had always been cold, of course. It was picture perfect, sterile and modern minimal. But today it felt worse. Noticeably worse.

If this is what it felt like at night when she went home, it was no wonder Adrien hated it here.

The doors to Gabriel’s office were closed, and she approached, knocking gently.

“Come in.” Said Nathalie’s voice.

She was at her desk, but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. “Good morning,” she greeted.

“G-good morning.” Marinette nodded. “I’m just letting you know I’m here. You usually greet me at the door so...”

“You’ve been here long enough, I didn’t think such formalities were necessary.”

“They aren’t! It’s fine, totally fine. Just...unexpected is all. Is Gabriel still ill?”

“A bit. He may come down, but he may not. I will field all questions.”

“Okay,” she nodded. She prepared to leave, but asked. “Is Adrien home?”

“He’s working in his room. He’s very busy.”

Marinette just nodded, and went to her own office down the hall.

It was a smaller room, used to belong to Emilie. Gabriel was very specific about how things were kept. The desk was Marinette’s, but everything else was Emilie’s. The bureau in the corner, the little settee, the curtains, it was all her design. Emilie had good taste, thankfully, and so the room was fine the way it was.

Even with the light off, this room didn’t have that oppressive weight in it.

She could relax, however slightly, and get to work.

It was hard to concentrate on work when all she wanted to do was storm upstairs and demand answers from Adrien. At this point, she definitely felt like she deserved them. Date or not, she deserved a little closure as to what had happened, and why he had never followed up.

In all likeliness, it would probably just be, “my phone died, and then I forgot to text you back.”

But Nino’s comment about Adrien’s extreme consciousness really nagged at her.

Before she knew it, it was time for her lunch break, and she took her sack lunch with her to Gabriel’s office.

He still hadn’t come down, but Nathalie was there.

“Nathalie? I’m taking my lunch now. Do you think I could visit Adrien?”

The woman stopped her work and screwed up her lips, an expression Marinette had never seen on her before. She seemed to be thinking much too hard.

“I will go see if he is able to handle company.”

“Tell him I don’t want to bother him, and we don’t have to talk. I just want company.”

Nathalie nodded, and stepped out of the room. Marinette followed across the foyer, before Nathalie harshly told her, “wait here.”

She ascended the stairs to Adrien’s room.

Love was ours

Until October wandered by

Let the years come and go

I'll still feel the glow

That time cannot fade

When I hear

That lovely Autumn serenade

Marinette never had to wait. Since working in the same house, they had developed a pretty open door policy. He was allowed in her office anytime, and likewise, she was allowed in his room, though she usually knocked first. Young men and all.

But this was the first time anything like this happened. Was Nathalie just paranoid about her getting sick too? Or her getting Adrien sick?

Was Adrien still ignoring her, and let Nathalie in on it?

What had she done to warrant this reaction?

Finally, Nathalie came out of the room.

“Adrien can see you for a little bit. But he’s busy, so try not to distract him.” Her tone was stern, in a way that made Marinette instinctively curl into herself. A sternness like she was in trouble.

Seriously, what did she do?!

She climbed the stairs, and approached the door, knocking slightly. “Adrien?”

“Please come in,” his voice called back.

When she entered, she noticed the lights were out. He sat in his computer chair, facing her completely, sitting rigidly, and smiling.

It was the fakest smile she’d ever seen.

She sighed. “Relax. I’m not mad.”

He blinked. “You…aren’t?”

“I mean, I’m a little confused. Why didn’t you show?”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, I think I’m the one that’s confused. What are you talking about?”

She scoffed. “Last week? We were going to have dinner? You never showed or called?”

“Oh. I…forgot.”

“It was your idea!”

“I…was sick. And I fell asleep. Yes. What day?”

“Friday night.”

His eyes widened. “Oh yes. That is exactly what happened.”

She sighed as she sank into his couch, and opened her lunch. “I understand. I really do, but next time, could you return my calls? I spent a whole week in silence from you.”

“Nathalie confiscated my phone.”

This made her chuckle. “Okay, that’s an ironclad excuse.”

He smiled, again, so fake.

“So what did you want to tell me?”

“Tell you? I was under the impression that you wanted to talk to me.”

“Well yeah, but on Friday. You asked me to dinner and said you wanted to tell me something.”

He spun around in his chair to look at his computer. He scrolled through a document, and then turned back to her. “I don’t remember, I’m afraid. This past week has been…a bit fuzzy, to tell you the truth.”

“What were you sick with?”

His eye twitched. “Uh, cancer.”

“WHAT?!”

“Too severe? Strep throat then. Pneumonia. Bronchitis.”

“You could just say you don’t know instead of giving me a heart attack, you know.”

“Apologies.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Talking how so?”

“Like, really proper.”

“Is it not how I usually talk?”

“Not when we’re alone…”

He screwed up his lips. “Hmm. My bad. Too many period dramas while I was sick, I suppose.”

She laughed. “Oh my gosh, like when we binged Sherlock together, and we couldn’t stop talking with British accents?!”

He grinned. “Precisely. Just like that.”

“Man, had I known you were sick, I would have brought you some soup and given you company.”

“Nathalie wouldn’t have let you.”

“I know. It just kills me to think that you were alone all week.”

“It kills you?” He looked horrified.

“Yeah…I know you get lonely…sorry, I’m prying again.”

He shook his head. “Just…the phrasing caught me off guard.”

Marinette noticed from the moment she walked in, he had only once glanced at his computer. She was being a distraction, just like Nathalie had asked her not to.

“Well, I heard you were busy, so I’ll finish my lunch in my office. But, we’re good right?”

“What?”

“Like, you aren’t mad at me for anything? I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No, you did nothing wrong. We’re great friends.”

“Good!”

Something was wrong.

Love was ours

Until October wandered by

Let the years come and go

I'll still feel the glow

That time cannot fade

When I hear

That lovely Autumn serenade

She walked to him and kissed his temple, like he always appreciated, and she spared a glance at the computer screen.

She only got a glimpse of the first line.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste.’

I can’t guarantee prompt updates for a little bit. I have some logistics to figure out, but I have a few chapters ready, so I figured I’d start posting! All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #the ghost of Smokey Joe #ladybug #chat noir #ghost story

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red1culous · 4 years

Text

Written Desires

Once in a while the team had to busy themselves with duties outside of saving the world. Today happened to be one of those days. In fact today was one of those days that seemed to bleed into a whole 2 weeks. That’s how long Fury scheduled the Avenger’s road trip for. Currently the star coach tooting down a lonely stretch of road in the pitch black out in the middle of nowhere was filled with the sound of snoring superheroes. Everyone was asleep except for you. You and Natasha. Sat side by side. And the sounds of little gasps and moans.

“So you going to tell her or shall I?” Sam winks at you as he plonks himself in the window seat beside you.

“Don’t you dare! I will kill you” you shoot him a hard glare, “plus she’s the Black Widow and I’m the newbie so shut it before anyone hears” you whisper out the last few words through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t you be sitting with the others?” you say as you chuck your rucksack into his lap and he grunts before saying, “you might have just joined the team but we’ve known each other forever so excuse me if I wanna make sure my friend settles in ok”.

He was right about that.

You and Sam had known each other for a long time. Well more like since Sam had fallen into your greenhouse when his Falcon wings malfunctioned. You ended up tending to his busted up lip and bruised ego. It was a good thing you were also starting out as an ER medic so you weren’t completely clueless about what to do when a large man falls from the sky literally into your lap. The night was spent patching Sam up and declining his advances towards you. It took him a few hours to realise why you weren’t interested but when the lightbulb came on he was thankful saying, “oh! You like the ladies! I can dig that!”

He was the one who rallied for you to start working in Shield. Without Sam you would never have become an official member of the Avengers. Even though you never actually qualified as a doctor you were smart and a fast learner. Even Dr Cho was impressed and when Sam approached Fury, Cho supported him wholeheartedly.

So here you were, joining the Avengers Roadshow. Part of Fury’s plan to get the support of the public. In his words, “show them the human side of the Avengers.” You were invited last minute because the appointed medical attendee came down with a nasty flu. Not that you were complaining. You were going to spend 2 whole weeks in close proximity to your crush, Natasha Romanoff.

Sam was the only one in the team who knew about your crush. He sensed something when he was showing you around the compound. He had brought you to the gym and there stood the infamous Black Widow, covered in sweat, her workout clothes drenched and clinging to every curve of her body. You swallowed hard and when Sam introduced you to her, you became a flustered stuttering mess. After the encounter Sam would not stop teasing you about it. He used every opportunity he could to get you to make a move on her but you were some kind of stubborn. Plus you were too shy for your own good.

“I’ll go if you promise to at least talk to her sometime during this trip” he bargains. “Jesus, fine Sam, I’ll say hi or something” you said. With that he was off your seat and joining the others at the front of the bus. You quickly busied yourself with your work completely missing the look Natasha was giving you and Sam.

There was nothing much for you to do during the road trip. You wondered why you were even here at all. So far all you had to deal with was a blister from Clint wearing sneakers a little too small for his feet. Other than that you felt kind of awkward so you started writing in your notebook when there was a lull in activities. Even when you joined the team for lunches in small diners along the road you would be more interested in jotting things down. You felt really out of place but you didn’t want to seem antisocial either.

It was almost 1.25am when you realised someone tapping you on the shoulder. You were writing in your notebook and the interruption startled you. It was even more startling when you noticed it was Natasha Romanoff standing there looking at you expectantly.

“Nata-I mean Ms. Romanoff are you ok?” you start to get up in a hurry dropping your notebook on the floor in the process. “I’m fine Y/N I just came over…” she trails off as she reaches for your book and manages to read a few lines before you quickly snatch it out of her hands. “I’m sorry Ms. Romanoff it’s just umm, personal stuff you really don’t wanna read that” you stutter after realising you just snatched something out of the Black Widow’s hands. She chuckles softly, “please call me Natasha.”

After staring at her dumbfounded for what feels like an eternity you croak out, your throat suddenly dry, “did you need some medical assistance? Are you hurt or something?” She makes to sit in the seat next to you and you let her.

“Or something…” she says softly, “I couldn’t sleep and noticed you were up too, so I decided to come see what you were doing” she considers you for a moment, “I hope that’s ok”. You smile brightly at her and relax a little into your seat, “yes! I mean yea sure that’s fine.”

The sky starts to glow a shade of crimson when you realise that you had been speaking to Natasha throughout the night. She’s trying to stifle her laughter with your blanket as you tell her something funny. When the laughter dies down she smiles at you, “so….you write poetry huh?”

You start to blush, “oh god you read it didn’t you? I should’ve known you’d be able to fast read faster than us mere mortals” you start to pull at the blanket to hide your face. Natasha finds this adorable, “sorry, I did read a few lines. Hey don’t be embarrassed they’re really good.” Your thank you is muffled as you speak from under the blanket. She reaches over the uncover your face, “I’d love to read more if you don’t mind?” she’s giving you puppy dog eyes and your last wall of resistance starts to crumble. You hand your notebook over to her and she takes it with a smile and starts reading from the very first page. “Crap you’re starting from the beginning?” you whine as you start to reenter your cave of shame. “Yes I am so you just keep quiet over there. I want to see what you’ve been so busy jotting down every day.”

By the time she’s reading the last page you’ve come out from under the covers and are looking at her. You notice every little twitch of her face and how her mouth moves slightly as she mouthes some words reading them to herself. She closes the notebook and lays it on her lap before looking at you resting her head on the head rest of her seat.

Under her intense stare you feel the heat rising to your face as you start to retrieve the book from her lap. She grabs your hand effectively stopping your movements.

She. Is. Holding. My. Hand.

Your brain seems to be on a death loop and you can’t think of anything else until she breaks you out of your stupor, “they’re beautiful, Y/N”

“Umm thanks…I just…you know…umm thanks” you sound like an idiot.

“Are you always this inarticulate or only around me?” she’s definitely teasing you now.

“Very funny, Romanoff” wtf is happening right now. You’re trying to play it cool but you’re almost certain your sweaty palms are giving you away.

“Who did you write them for?” she says, gently stroking your knuckles with her thumb.

“Just someone I used to know. She’s not…we’re not together anymore” your brain thankfully starts to work again.

“Would you write something like that for me?”

You blink at her a few times before saying, “you’d have to fall in love with me, break my heart and then leave me first”.

Did she just move closer to you?

“Well I can do the first part” she breathes, “but I don’t think I’m up to the second or third”.

Your heart has officially stopped beating and you can hear the blood pumping in your veins.

“Ok” you whisper.

“Ok? Or…ok” she definitely moved closer. She’s so close you can feel her hot breath on your face.

“Ok”

And with that she closes the gap between the both of you and gently kisses you. When she starts to deepen the kiss you move the hand she was once holding to the nape of her neck bringing her closer while she holds onto your waist squeezing slightly.

The both of you stop kissing when you hear Sam’s exaggerated cough. He’s wearing this toothy grin and if you weren’t so turned on by the women in front of you, you would’ve said something to him. Natasha pulls your attention back to her and smiles while throwing the blanket over both your heads. Clearly she wasn’t done with you yet.

Tagging: @natasharomanoffismywife

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #redfic #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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lovely-ateez · 4 years

Text

Superman Jongho~

ꕥPosted: 11/20/20

ꕥGenre: Fluff & Angst (It ends happy I promise)

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Superman Jongho

ꕥWord Count: 1.6k

ꕥWarnings: Slight language

ꕥA/N: Happy Halloween everyone! I know I haven’t posted in a hot minute but in all fairness college has been kicking my ass so it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to actually sit down and write. I’ll be posting Ice Cream Pt.3 later this week so look out for that!

“Nice costume, babe.” I giggled as I observed the navy blue tailored suit my boyfriend was wearing.

“Thanks, cutie. Any guesses?”

“Hmm.” I tapped my chin, “Michael Scott?”

“Damn. My James Bond outfit is lacking.”

“Maybe carry around a martini glass?”

“Oh I bet you want me to go around saying ‘shaken not stirred’ too, huh?”

“I mean, if the shoe fits.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist, raising a brow.

“I’m quite curious about your costume, actually. Why the change in style?”

Although my skin-tight, light pink dress didn’t align with my usual scary Halloween costumes, I wanted to try something different this year. So why not go as Hello Kitty?

I adjusted the white cat ears on my head, “I do scary stuff every year. I wanted to try something cute for a change.”

“Well, you certainly look it.”

I could feel my face tinting pink.

“Oh shush.”

“We’ve got about five minutes until we need to leave, do you wanna grab a jacket? It’s a bit chilly outside.”

“Hello Kitty doesn’t wear a jacket.”

“Okay but you do, and it’s cold.”

I squinted, wanting to refuse but knowing how easily the cold could make me shiver.

“Fine.”

After quickly grabbing a fluffy, white teddie jacket, I intertwined an arm with Jongho and we left our shared house for the late-night party.

Arriving at the party I looked around, surprised at how nice it appeared. Halloween decorations were carefully placed and every person in sight was wearing a different costume.

Jongho left to meet one of his friends, the host of the party, but not before placing a kiss on my cheek. I blushed at the simple action, still getting butterflies even after all this time of dating.

Approaching the punch bowl to get a drink, I quickly caught the eye of a certain pin-up girl. After a moment she turned to me and squealed, running towards me with an impressive speed. I chucked at my best friend’s actions. I was quickly engulfed in a hug I was half convinced would suffocate me if she squeezed any harder.

“Girl! Come ‘ere! How are you?”

“I’m pretty good, Hanna. And you? You seem excited.”

“I am! The party is gorgeous! And guess what?” She lowered her voice, looking around, “I saw him.”

“Oh my god you did not!”

“I did! A man was trying to rob the store I was shopping at earlier this week and I saw him stop the guy!”

“Are you serious?”

“Totally!”

I was surprised to hear a familiar deep laugh by my side, and as I turned I was met with Jongho’s mischievous eyes.

Placing an arm around my waist he spoke, “Are you two still obsessed with Superman?”

“No-”

“YES!”

Jongho tightened his lips into a small smile.

“Listen.” My best friend began, “I just think that he’s admirable, and strong, and his arms just look great-”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” My own questioned.

Hanna waved a hand in the air, “I mean yeah but he knows I think Superman’s cute. I can appreciate an attractive man and still be in love with my boyfriend.”

“Does he think Wonder Woman is cute, too?”

“Yeah well...maybe. But I don’t mind. We’re soulmates and I wouldn’t leave him for anyone. He feels the same.” A dreamy look flashed in her eyes and I couldn’t help but awe at how strongly she clearly felt about him.

Our conversation continued for a while until Hanna noticed the host’s cat trying to drink out of a cup of liquor and quickly ran after him.

We shook our heads in tandem, smiling at her feeble attempt to catch the cat before delighting in the rest of the evening.

After the party had come to an end we made our way back home and wandered to our balcony, admiring the beautiful night view.

Jongho tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before placing a few fingers under my chin, lifting it slightly and gently placing his lips on my own.

“I think I’m going to change out of this suit. Care to join me?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to enjoy the night sky for a while.”

He nodded and gave me another quick kiss, heading back inside and leaving me to admire the thousands of shining stars.

I rubbed at my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me. Deciding to change into more comfortable clothes, I took one last look at the stars. In my tired state I misjudged where the edge of our balcony was and leaned a bit too far over the edge, causing me to fall. I could barely let out a scream before I felt warm arms around me. I met eyes with my boyfriend and smiled, so, so relived that I was safe. I opened my mouth to thank him as I noticed that we seemed to be hovering mid-air.

“Holy shit. Jongho what’s happening?”

Jongho swallowed and placed me on the safe ground of the balcony, walking towards me.

“I...”

“You’re...him aren’t you?” I stared in disbelief as he gave a small nod.

“Why did you hide this from me?” His eyes lowered, pain evident in them.

“I-I didn’t want to keep it from you. I was just...afraid.”

I tilted my head, trying to understand. In the year that we had dated, Jongho had never shown fear of anything. Not spiders or snakes, scary movies, heights, the deep ocean, anything. And now apparently he’s Superman, too.

What does he have to fear?

Jongho finally looked at me, tears welling in his eyes. There was a sadness and longing in them that I had never seen before.

“I was scared that I would lose you.” He barely spoke above a whisper.

I fought back the hot tears stinging my eyes.

Did he really think I’d leave him that easily?

“Honey, you could never lose me.” I reached out to caress his cheek and sighed when he unconsciously leaned into my touch. Noticing his own actions, Jongho shook his head and pulled away.

“You don’t understand. It’s not just the possibility of you leaving me for who I am, but the danger that you could be put in if you knew. It was just better that you didn’t know.”

“How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

Even though our words were calm, there was such tangible underlying emotion that we might as well have been screaming.

“As long as possible.”

“Jongho we’re supposed to be a team. How can we be a team when you’re keeping this from me?” I blinked as tears streamed down my face.

I had never seen Jongho cry. The only time he had ever come close was early in our relationship when I was hospitalized for the flu. I couldn’t eat or drink because of how awful I felt. Jongho later confessed that he, for a brief moment, thought he would lose me. Days following my recovery he first told me he loved me. The thought tore my heart everytime I recalled the memory.

And so I thought my eyes were lying to me as I saw Jongho quietly sob.

“I love you. So, so much. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. I can’t—I can’t—lose you.”

I threw my arms around him, clinging to him as if I let go he’d be gone forever.

“You’re so stupid, Jongho Choi. You could never lose me. I love only you.”

“I can’t guarantee that. And besides, are you even sure you still want to be with me? I’m in danger often and I can’t have you chase after me.” My heart broke in two when I heard his voice crack as he spoke his next words, “You could be with a man who would treat you well, one who isn’t putting himself in danger and-”

I pulled back and rested my hands on his face, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“This doesn’t change who you are. You’re still the same man I fell in love with. If it makes you feel better, I won’t chase after you. As long as it means I can stay with you.”

He gave me a heart-eyed smile, letting out a small laugh and holding me tight.

“I was so scared you’d leave me.” He confessed.

“Never.”

He lifted a hand up to my check, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize fell down my face.

“Please don’t cry. It hurts me to see you sad.”

“It hurts me to see you being stupid and thinking I’d ever leave you.”

“Touché.”

“God I probably look like a mess.” I cursed myself for not wearing water-proof mascara.

“You always look beautiful to me.”

I shook my head at how cheesy he was suddenly being.

“So...” I began, “You can fly, right?”

Jongho lifted a brow, a crooked smile lighting up his features.

“Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Can I fly with you? I’ve always wanted to fly.”

Without warning he picked me up, letting my legs wrap around his waist.

“Hold on tight, babe.”

We lifted off the ground and my grip around his shoulders tightened unintentionally.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” I smiled at him, “I trust you. It’s just...my first time flying like this.”

Jongho chuckled. “You get used to it.”

“Oh? Is that an invitation for me to fly with you again?”

“If that’s what you want, then of course.”

I chuckled and noticed that he had stopped flying up. We were a decent height from the ground, but not too terribly high.

Jongho nuzzled my neck and leaned his forehead against mine.

“You are the love of my life, darling.”

Smiling back at the handsome man I was fortunate enough to call my own, I kissed him sweetly.

“And you are mine.”

#ateez #kpop #ateez au #ateez smut #imagines #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #atzinc #choi jongho #jongho #jongho au #superman #superman au #halloween au #halloween fanfiction #ateez halloween #haloween

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cherienymphe · 5 years

Text

Can’t Be Bought II (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Hey guys this is the final part! I don’t foresee myself doing any more Ransom fics, but who knows. I hope you all enjoy this!

WARNINGS: NON-CON! {IF THIS OFFENDS YOU PLEASE DNI! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}

Summary: You’ve gotten a job at the infamous Thrombey mansion with the help of your best friend Marta. It isn’t perfect, but it pays well. Your only true complaint takes the form of one Ransom Drysdale who seems to have had a problem with you from day one.

You were on edge as you wiped down the counter, uncharacteristically quiet as Fran worked around you. You could feel her eyes on you every now and again, but you pretended not to notice. You knew that she wanted to talk to you about your strange behavior but figured that she was just giving you space…or waiting for the right time to approach you. You dreaded the latter.

It had been two weeks since that night. The night that Ransom had given you a ride home, but not without pulling off to the side of the road to have his way with you first. Then again in your own bed when he dropped you off at home. You swallowed, recalling the way his hands pinned you down as he fucked you into your mattress, tainting what was once your only sanctuary.

You’d woken up the next morning feeling worse than you’d ever had in your life. Sore spots littered your neck from where he’d paid too much attention, and your hips and thighs fared no better. You didn’t know what to do, and in the end, you’d decided to do nothing. You remembered his threats from that night, and you knew they weren’t empty. He could very much ruin you.

You’d spent the last two weeks on autopilot, going to class like nothing had happened. Everything had almost seemed normal until the Thrombeys wanted you to come by last week to work for their party. You’d declined, an excuse of the flu popping out before you could stop yourself. Linda had seemed sympathetic, but you knew she was more upset they’d be down a set of hands more than anything. It had killed you to feign sick, because you needed the money.

That was how you found yourself present tonight. You desperately needed the money, and you couldn’t avoid this place forever unless you wanted to lose your job. And losing your job would do no good, because….

“Whatever you try, I’m going to have you, so make this easy on yourself, (Y/N).”

You sighed, washing your hands as you prepared to get the table ready for tonight.

“(Y/N), can you take these upstairs?”

You turned, watching in horror as Fran walked back into the kitchen with two luggage bags. The family was celebrating Meg’s birthday, so the house was going to be full and lively all weekend. Almost every member of the family had arrived, all except one. You swallowed as you recognized that luggage and took a step forward just as you heard a familiar voice booming from the living room.

With a strained smile, you nodded and swiftly grabbed the bags. You ignored Fran’s worried gaze as you hurried up the stairs, hoping to get upstairs and back down to the kitchen before you ran into anyone you didn’t want to. With a huff, you dropped them in the room Ransom always stayed in whenever he came over. You remembered the one time Jacob had tried to claim the room, and Ransom had almost pushed him down the stairs.

You turned to rush back downstairs only to yelp in shock as you almost collided with a familiar face. You stumbled back, pressing a hand to your chest as you stared at him. Your eyes were wide, lips pressed together as he smirked at you. He was wearing a thick, cream cable knit sweater, looking as put together and inviting as ever. You knew better though. His eyes always told a different story.

“(Y/N),” he greeted, eyes running over you in a way that made you shudder.

You simply nodded at him, clenching your jaw as you made your way towards the door. He caught your arm as you tried to walk past him, face only inches away from your own as he pulled you towards him.

“Where were you last week?”

His voice was hard, eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You tugged your arm, but his grip was unrelenting.

“I was sick,” you murmured, the lie coming out easily enough.

He raised on eyebrow in that condescending way that always annoyed you.

“…sick?”

“Yes, the flu. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” you bit out.

He hummed, one hand reaching up to brush along your waist.

“Do we need to get you a flu shot? I wouldn’t want you to get sick again,” he calmly replied, and you knew that he knew you were lying.

You looked away from his dark gaze, attempting to free yourself again.

“No,” you said, pulling on your arm still.

He ignored your struggles, stepping towards you until you were forced to back up.

“My bags must have been heavy,” he started, sliding his hand from your waist and to your shoulder, kneading the flesh there.

A panic began to rise in your chest as you pushed against him, but it was futile. You felt your back graze the wall behind you, and your heart sank to your stomach.

“Ransom, I’m working,” you hissed.

“It’s hilarious that you think I care,” he sneered, pressing his lips against yours.

You turned your head with a gasp, fighting to grab his hand as it made its way beneath your shirt.

“Stop it,” you snapped, although it came out more as a plea.

His hand suddenly had yours in a painful grip, and you whimpered as the other came up to squeeze your jaw. His eyes were cold, determined as he glared at you.

“You do as I say, remember? I own you…”

He jostled your chin, pressing you further into the wall.

“You’re lucky I’m being discreet. With that stunt you pulled last week, I should fuck you for my whole family to hear,” he spat.

“Ransom-.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you weren’t sick,” he said just before pressing his lips to the skin of your neck.

You screwed your eyes shut, bucking against him as he pressed his teeth down, drawing a gasp from you. His fingers drew patterns against your skin, and you shook when his fingers danced along the edge of your jeans.

You were worried that Fran would come looking for you soon, and you didn’t know how you would explain this to her. You didn’t get a chance to protest again because soon his lips were on yours again. He let go of your wrist, pressing his thumb against your neck as he slid his hand down the front of your pants. Fortunately for you, a noise came from the door just before his fingers brushed along your underwear.

Ransom pulled away, and your eyes widened when you saw none other than Jacob standing in the open doorway. His mouth was parted, smartphone in hand, as he looked over you two in disgust.

“What-?”

You never got to hear what he had to say because you took the distraction as a moment to slip from Ransom’s grasp. You maneuvered your way out of his wandering hand as he reached out to you, rushing past Jacob without a backwards glance.

You had somehow managed to avoid Ransom for the rest of the evening. You weren’t sure what he’d told Jacob, but you were grateful for it because the teenage Nazi hadn’t said a word about what he saw, nor did he hardly acknowledge you. For a while, you thought that luck was on your side, and you’d get to go home without dealing with Ransom for the rest of the night.

Then the rain came. Not only that, but the rain brought the thunder and lightning and heavy winds with it. You gulped as you clutched your coat in your hand, looking outside of the window forlornly.

“Jesus, it’s really coming down out there, huh?” Richard mused, nursing a brandy.

You eyed the brown liquid, remembering that night before suddenly glancing away. Your throat was thick with worry as you prepared yourself to drive in that.

“It’s…it’s not that bad,” you argued, pulling your coat on.

It was then that Linda stepped out of the kitchen, a frown on her face, and you cursed.

“Oh, (Y/N) honey, no. You can’t go out in that! It’s insane out there,” she said, reaching out to help you out of your jacket.

You stepped away, tugging it closed.

“It’s really not that bad. It’s just…drizzling,” you poorly argued with a chuckle.

At that moment, a particularly bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, accompanied by a rumble of thunder.

“No, sweetie, she’s right. It’s like…a monsoon out there. You can’t go out there. It’s way too dangerous,” Joni drawled.

In your peripheral, you saw a figure come to stand in the doorway of the living room. You glanced over, eyes connecting with those of Ransom as he folded his arms over his chest, staring you down. You nervously looked away just as Meg approached.

“I have to get home-.”

“(Y/N), don’t be ridiculous. Just stay the night here. You’re going to be working here all weekend, anyway,” Meg said with a shrug, reaching for your coat.

This time you were unsuccessful, and she slipped it off of you as you swallowed, heart pounding in your chest at the feel of familiar eyes boring into you.

“Guys, I can’t-.”

“Nonsense! Meg’s right. You should totally just stay the night here. We have plenty of rooms in this big ole place,” Joni waved you off.

You fought to keep your eyes off of Ransom as he watched the whole exchange. No doubt, with a smirk in his face.

“I…I don’t have any clothes,” you protested with a shrug.

Meg rolled her eyes, tugging on your arm.

“You can just borrow something of mine,” she argued.

You bit your lip, glancing at Ransom again, unsurprised to find him still staring at you. Only he wasn’t smirking like you had originally thought. His lips were pressed together, eyes focused on you with a carnal hunger that terrified you. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from him, sick to your stomach. You were officially out of arguments.

“Okay,” you murmured, and Meg beamed as she pulled you towards her room.

You shut the door behind you with a sigh, turning to lock it when your eyes widened. There was no lock on the door. Your lips trembled, lashes fluttering before you took a deep breath and turned around. You dragged your hands down your face as you fought off tears.

You prayed that, miraculously, you’d be left alone tonight. You were hopeful, but not naïve. If Ransom was bold enough to try and have sex with you while his family was downstairs, you knew he’d have no qualms about doing the same while they were all asleep.

You laid in bed for what felt like hours, preparing yourself and waiting. In reality, it could have only been an hour at the most. Your nerves were on end, just wanting to get the whole disgusting ordeal over with, but after a while sleep started to come for you. You tried to fight it, but eventually told yourself that maybe Jacob walking in on the two of you had spooked Ransom. Maybe he didn’t want to chance it…

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for, but when you were pulled back into consciousness, it was by the feel of familiar lips wrapping around your hardened bud. It took you a while to get your bearings, to truly understand what was happening. There was a fire in between your legs, stroked by long fingers, a weight pressing into you.

You groaned, turning your head and blindly reaching out to push against the weight when your hands were suddenly caught in an iron grip. You awoke with a start, eyes widening as you finally put the pieces together. You hissed when he pressed his hips against yours, realizing with a fright that you were naked. The oversized t-shirt that Meg had found for you was thrown somewhere, leaving Ransom as your only source of warmth as he caged in in against the mattress.

Before you could speak, his lips descended over your own, smothering them in a heated kiss. You squirmed when the head of his cock brushed against your heated core. You shuddered, the sensitivity of it shooting straight through you, and you wondered how long he’d been in here.

“I was looking forward to seeing you last weekend,” he whispered into the darkness.

“I was-.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “It’s insulting.”

Just then, a flash of lightning lit up the room, showcasing his hard features and you cringed away from the sinister look in his eyes.

“I should fuck your ass raw, you know that?”

You started struggling again, but his grip was firm.

“…but I won’t. I’ll let it slide. I was a bit rough with you…but you just drive me crazy,” he groaned, leaning down to trail his lips along your shoulder.

You stared up at the ceiling, resigned to your fate as he began to push himself inside of you.

“I bid my time, and now I finally have you. You’re mine, (Y/N). Do you understand that?”

A gasp escaped your lips when he shoved himself to the hilt, thighs pressing into yours as you turned your head away.

“I expect you to be here whenever we need you. No more lies, no more excuses. The next time you claim you’re too sick to work, I’ll just have to come and check on you myself,” he threatened, thrusting inside of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut when the room lit up again, the visual of him hovering over you burned into your brain. He finally let go of your wrists, leaning over until his bare chest pressed against your own, hands pulling on your hair as he panted into your ear.

You didn’t like this angle. The brushes against your clit were sending fire through your veins, toes curling and teeth clenching as you fought off the pleasure. Your head was pulled back as his hips kept your pinned to the bed. You could hardly move, only able to dig your nails into his side as he fucked you into the soft mattress.

How could you ever think that Ransom wasn’t capable of…this? How could you have been so naïve that night? In all the time you’d known him, Ransom had never done a single thing out of the kindness of his heart. He liked having power over a people, a hold over them, and since that first day you’d met him, you had refused to give him any sort of power. But Ransom was just the type to take it.

A strangled moan slipped past your lips as you felt your climax approaching. Ransom heard it, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke.

“That’s it, (Y/N). Accept it…”

You fought against it, reaching in between you two to push him away, but he wasn’t having that. He gripped both of your wrists, sitting up as he pressed them against your stomach while his other hand found a home on your throat. He picked up his pace, and you whimpered, attempting to press your thighs together, feet pushing against his hips.

“Come on, (Y/N). Don’t be like that… Just accept it and make both of our lives so much easier,” he urged.

Your chest was heaving, legs trembling as he pounded into you.

“I can make you feel like this all the time,” he growled. “Just me, and no one else.”

You pulled against his harsh grip, gasping when he slammed into you, balls slapping against your skin. He finally let your hands go, only to press his own into the base of your spine, arching your back up as he bent down and sank his teeth into the skin of your chest. You thrashed against him, trembling in his arms as your orgasm hit you like truck. You bit your lip hard enough to hurt, nails dragging down his arms, a low hiss escaping him as he emptied himself inside of you.

Your legs were still shaking when he lowered you down to the mattress, harsh breaths in sync with your own. He suddenly chuckled, pressing open mouth kisses to your dewy skin. His hands were tight on your waist as his mouth descended. Another flash brightened the room, just as your eyes connected with his.

“You’ll come around. I have all the time in the world to fuck you into submission.”

Tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @sebabestianstan101

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #hugh ransom drysdale #Knives Out #Dark Fic #Chris Evans

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rosalies-rage · 4 years

Text

folklore x Twilight: An Analysis

folklore's lyrics match Twilight uncannily well and here’s proof!

my tears ricochet - Rosalie

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

Rosalie would sing this to her murderer/fiancé at her funeral as he goes around being the ‘hero’ and ‘saving face’. She’s ‘screaming at the sky’ because he has stolen the one thing she really wanted from her ‘anywhere I want, just not home’. Even though she loved him ‘til [her] dying day’, she can never forgive and has no choice but to haunt him.

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exile - Edward in New Moon

I think I’ve seen this film before And I didn’t like the ending You’re not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I’m in exile seein’ you out We always walked a very thin line You didn’t even hear me out (You didn’t even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) All this time I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind)

Edward leaves in New Moon because he believes he and his world are too dangerous for Bella, exiling himself indefinitely. They had ‘always walked a very thin line’ as he tried to be with her without harming her, and he literally ‘never learned to read [her] mind’. Now he’s left and can’t do what he wanted to do, i.e protect her (’what am I defending now?’).

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august - Jacob

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of “Are you sure?” “Never have I ever before”

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Canceled plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

Bella and Jacob start spending time together in the ‘salt air’ by La Push beach fixing beaten-up motorbikes (’rust’). Jacob knows Bella isn’t interested in him but lives in hope (’to live for the hope of it all’) and by the time the Cullens come back he’s convinced he could win Bella’s loyalties (’I remember thinkin’ I had you’). It doesn’t take place in summer, but it is a brief, intense fling that lifts Bella from her Edward-induced winter, and Bella calls Jacob her personal ‘sun’. In the end, though, Bella tells Jacob that there was never really a choice between him and Edward; it was always going to be Edward (’You weren’t mine to lose’).

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invisible string - Alice & Jasper

And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons Wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold Tied me to you

Alice woke up as a vampire with no memory of her past - all she had was her psychic abilities, which were an ‘invisible string’ leading her directly to Jasper. On Jasper’s side, he was living a brutal life training newborn armies until Alice found him and ‘wrapped all of [his] past mistakes in barbed wire’, putting ‘chains around his demons’ and leading him to a better life. You could also interpret it as his journey to chaining his inner monster that wants to kill humans when he goes to live with the Cullens.

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epiphany - Carlisle

Something med school did not cover Someone's daughter, someone's mother Holds your hand through plastic now "Doc, I think she's crashing out" And some things you just can't speak about

Only twenty minutes to sleep But you dream of some epiphany Just one single glimpse of relief To make some sense of what you've seen

This song describes the experience of medical staff during the COVID-19 pandemic, and Carlisle was a doctor during the last major pandemic (Spanish Flu in 1918), which is where he turned Edward. A religious man, he searches for an ‘epiphany’ from God while he grapples with the decision to consign another person to a life of vampirism and tries to understand whether or not he still has a soul.

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mad woman - Rosalie

Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth, "Fuck you forever"? And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around

They say “move on” but you know I won’t

I'm taking my time, taking my time 'Cause you took everything from me

Rosalie is filled with anger and bitterness over her murder. She’s cast in a bad light particularly because she’s an angry, ‘mad woman’ but she explains that her murderers ‘made her like that’ when they ‘took everything from [her]’, and in return she ‘[took her] time’ when killing them to make sure they knew she was coming.

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cardigan - Bella on Jacob

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed You put me on and said I was your favorite You drew stars around my scars But now I’m bleedin’

Bella was destroyed after Edward left, feeling that he’d taken most of her with him and was just discarded like an unwanted toy (’I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed’). Then she started hanging out with Jacob and his friendship (’I was your favorite’) started to heal - or at least disguise - the hole in her chest (’You drew stars around my scars’). But then he left, too, when the werewolf transformation happened, which left her ‘bleeding’. It turned out she wasn’t really healed, she’d just been papering over the gap with Jacob’s love.

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illicit affairs - Edward & Bella as tragic fated lovers

Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends in meetings in parking lots It’s born from just one single glance but it dies and it dies and it dies A million little times

Leave no trace behind, like they don’t even exist

When Edward first becomes enamored with Bella and wants to get closer to her, he convinces himself he can always stop - but he can’t. The more time he spends with her, the more doomed he is. When Bella gets hurt because of him, first in Twilight and then in New Moon, he disappears in hopes of keeping her safe and hides all the presents he gave her (’leave no trace behind’).

And you wanna scream Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

A dwindling mercurial high A drug that only worked the first few hundred times

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

This part is Bella’s response. When he left, he took away this entire paranormal world he’d introduced her to (‘You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else’), leaving her to think she’s gone insane because not only has she lost the love of her life, all traces of an entire extra world have disappeared. She wants him to stop patronising her by saying she’ll move on like mortals do (’Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me’). Desperate to get some sense that he’s still there, she starts doing risky stunts like motorbike racing and jumping off a cliff (’A dwindling mercurial high’). Like she told him in the meadow scene in the first book, she is willing to die for him, and we see in New Moon that he feels the same way (‘you know damn well / For you I would ruin myself, a million little times’). The only way for them to stay apart would’ve been to never meet in the first place.

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seven - Rosalie on her childhood friend Vera

Please picture me in the trees I hit my peak at seven Feet in the swing over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things? Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the Moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

Rosalie fondly recalls her human life and her best friend Vera, who had the normal life she never got. This ‘love lasts so long’ even though Vera is dead by now because Rosalie still remembers her, even if her human memories are fuzzy and she can’t necessarily ‘recall [her] face’. Also, Rosalie was always valued only for her beauty, but maybe she ‘hit [her] peak at seven’ because her beauty hadn’t yet started overshadowing her personhood and she was still able to ‘scream ferociously’ at that age instead of being the girl and young woman who had to learn ‘civility’ and be married off to a rich man.

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hoax - Bella in New Moon

My only one My smoking gun My eclipsed sun This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My winless fight This has frozen my ground Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue but you No other sadness in the world would do My best laid plan Your sleight of hand My barren land I am ash from your fire You know I left a part of me back in New York You knew the hero died so what's the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart

Bella’s ‘eclipsed sun’ has disappeared and left her ‘broken’, ‘sleepless’ and believing she has no way to win him back. She literally goes and stands on a ‘cliffside’ before jumping off just to see a hallucination of his face - Edward, a mythical creature, is the ‘only hoax she believes in’. Even though he’s hurt her and broken her heart, she ‘don’t want no other shade of blue but you’. He thinks he’s saving her from harm by leaving, but the scar from James still bothers her, i.e. his leaving cannot protect her as the damage has been done (’You know it still hurts underneath my scars’) and now Edward has just added emotional scars that ‘pulled [her] apart’ and left a gaping hole in her chest.

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peace - Edward & Bella in Breaking Dawn

I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it’s just around the corner darlin Coz it lives in me No, I could never give you peace

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Throughout the series, Edward has been afraid to get too close to Bella for fear of hurting her (’danger is near’, ‘it lives in me’). Now he finally has to accept that she’s not going anywhere and value her choice. Even after he’s no longer a threat to her directly, their life is full of challenges like the Volturi. It’s impossible to guarantee her safety, and she doesn’t want him to - she wants to be in his world as an equal. He comes to terms with the fact that it’s okay if he can ‘never give [her] peace’.

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#twilight #the twilight saga #twilight renaissance #Edward cullen #jasper hale #Alice cullen #Rosalie hale #carlisle cullen #Taylor swift #folklore #ts8 #tslyrics

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lilikags · 4 years

Text

Meraki (greek) - to do something with your soul, creativity, or love. to put something of yourself into your work.

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ೃ‧₊› a b o u t t h i s p o s t° ➮ Pairing: Yaku Morisuke x reader ➮ Oneshot ➮ Tags: childhood friends to lovers, fluff ➮ Word Count: 1863

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Morisuke has been there for you- ever since. You've known each other longer than you can remember, and you really couldn't do much on your own without him. He's always had your back, and somehow a responsibility to take care of you whenever your parents couldn't.

It started way back when you were kids, a really young age- probably somewhere around 4. Your parents and his parents were out in the park, having a picnic. It was a gorgeous day outside- the sky painted a soft blue, fluffy, white clouds dotting the ether, a fresh breeze caressing the skin. Your parents were chatting away, about the time one of their co-workers almost set the office on fire- the outcome was not good for the clumsy employee.

You and Morisuke were left to play, the parents believing they had a good eye on the two of you. You ran around in the grass, having Morisuke chase you, and it was fun. He ended up catching you most of the time, but it was your challenge to outrun him. The two pairs of little legs ran around in the grass, with giggles to be heard along the way. It wasn't long before you tripped and fell, scraping your knee on a rock. The two of you were a bit far away from your parents, and they were a bit slow to respond. Morisuke was paying attention though, and he helped you up and walk to your parents, who treated your injury while they continued talking. Morisuke sat beside you, watching intently in an attempt to learn how to treat those so that he could help treat it in case you tripped again.

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The flu. The thing everyone gets a shot for every year. Even though you did get your shot, you still got it. 4th grade you was definitely not happy. You understood that getting a shot was better than suffering days through the symptoms of the flu from actually experiencing it. The shot was bad, but the actual flu was so much worse. You would honestly rather go to school, at least you got to feel healthy and got to talk to your friends. Well, at least you didn't have to do schoolwork today, that was one plus. You sat in bed all day, with the tissues by your bed, an ever-filling garbage can, and a high fever. It definitely did not feel nice, 0/10 would not like to experience again. At least you got to be on your ipad all day.

That afternoon, Morisuke dropped by your house. He came by with some soup, which he made with his mother after school. He asked your mom if he could see you, and she said that she'd deliver the soup to you, so that he wouldn't get sick from you. He insisted and your mother couldn't help but give into the young boy's requests, requiring that he wear a mask to prevent him from getting the flu. He happily complied with that; wearing a mask wasn't much at all if it meant to see for himself that you were okay. By then, you were already someone important to him, and he knew that, even at such a young age.

You heard the two come up the stairs of your home, the wood squeaking just a little from the two bodies walking on it. You were happy to see Morisuke come to check on you, but you also didn't want him to get sick either. You decided that you would keep your distance from him- that way, you could keep him safe while also letting him see you. Win-win situation, really.

"(y/n), Morisuke's here to see you," you heard your mother say as she opened the door. You saw your mother carry the soup, which you knew was from Morisuke himself. Your mother didn't know how to make this particular soup, despite trying several times- it always tasted a bit off. You'd often go to Morisuke's house and they'd serve you this soup or some of your other favorites; you loved the food there and you'd prefer it over whatever your mom would cook for dinner- though you couldn't go there all the time. You smiled as you saw the soup for yourself, and as you reached for it, the towel resting on your forehead slid off. You picked it up, remembering that it was there in the first place. The two of them giggled at that, and you pouted. After a bit of talking, Morisuke had been called home by his mother and he headed out, telling you to make sure you drink water and sleep well before he left. You smiled and waved goodbye, and you could hear the sound of his shoes going down the stairs.

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"Moriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii," you whined. "Help me with the homeworkkkkkkk." "Just give me a minute (y/n), just need to finish this up," he replied as he was finishing his own homework. It was about time for high school entrance exams, and teachers were piling up homework for about no apparent reason. If they could just give you less work to do when you could be studying for entrance exams, it would be great, but no, they had to give you work. You'd been stuck on one question on a science worksheet since forever, and it was the only one you couldn't figure out. It just made no sense to you, like, it had nothing to do with what the rest of the worksheet. Either 1- it had nothing to do with it and the creator of the worksheet just wanted to put it in there or 2- you were seriously completely forgetting about something. You figured it was the latter, but you really couldn't figure it out.

"Okay, what do you need help with- the science homework?" Mori finally turned to you. "I can't figure it outttttttt, it doesn't make any senseeeeeee," you pouted. He looked at the problem, "Oh, this wasn't in the notes, but the teacher did mention it earlier for a bit." You stared at the paper, trying to remember what the teacher said. You were thinking, and Mori stopped what he was about to say to let you think for a bit. After a while, you continued to stare at the paper, and he knew your mind was just blank.

"Alright, so..." he explained the topic, and even searched up parts he wasn't exactly sure himself to give you a full explanation of the question. He talked for longer than you expected, as you thought the question was simple; after all, it was only fill-in-the-blank. Yet he was probably better than your teacher, somehow answering your questions to the best of his ability, and even if he didn't know part of the answer he was trying to tell you, he'd simply search for it online, learn it himself, and explain it to you. It was a good 30 minutes before he was done, and it was quite impressive, how he taught it to you. You didn't even have that many questions; it seemed he answered them before you could ask.

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Being volleyball manager was harder than it looked- really. Contrary to what it seemed compared to other teams, they were quite chaotic, sometimes even a nightmare to take care of. As their manager, you had so much to take care of, and not being able to be taught about being a manager from any previous manager, you had to figure it out on your own, with a bit of help from Coach Nekomata. Your previous club had been disbanded due to the lack of members, so you had no choice but to join another one. You considered a lot of clubs before joining the boy's volleyball club, but you ended up joining despite Mori's advice telling you that you'd go nuts over the things they do.

He'd insisted, really insisted. He even tried talking you out of it, no matter how much he wanted to see you, he knew you might just go nuts trying to take care of them. Sometimes you came over to walk home with him, and they teased about being Mori's girlfriend, which you were not. It wasn't bad at all, kind of funny, and they didn't do much more. How bad could it be? Apparently, really bad, according to Mori. But your experience said something different, so you decided to go with it anyways.

The moment you were introduced as the team's manager, you were immediately overwhelmed with everything they were trying to ask, along with all the things you had to do as manager. It was definitely difficult, as all their attention was on you instead of practicing. Smh this is volleyball club, not (y/n) club. Sometimes you tried to copy Mori and yell at them, but all they thought of it was something cute. When they were misbehaving, about something else, they'd definitely listen to you, but when they were trying to get your attention, it was always Mori that got them to go back to practicing. You were eternally grateful for Mori for saving your sanity, else you wouldn't have any left for college.

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"(y/n), I have some (favorite food) for you. Mind if I come in?" Mori knocked on the door. "Mhm." you replied, as he opened the door and set the food beside you. You gave him a small smile and looked back at your computer, your hands continuing to type away on the laptop in front of you. College life was a mess, though perhaps not as "busy" as high school. You were busy getting job experience, as well as doing work for your classes. It all consumed so much time, but the work was strangely fulfilling for a time when you finished it.

"Make sure not to overwork yourself; I'll be coming in later to check on you," he said, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. Softening at the kiss, tired from working all day, you held onto his arm, signaling you didn't want him to go. He gave you a warm smile of adoration, and you buried your head into his shirt and clung onto him. The warmth was relaxing; you could feel the stress floating away. Mori smiled softly. This was so much better than writing that research paper, definitely. You could probably finish it in time even if you took a bit of time off now.

"Mhm, let's stay like this," you said, wanting to take a break from the research paper you had been working on. You had moved to the kitchen to properly eat your (favorite food), and you and Mori talked the entire time. It was probably the longest dinner you'd had, but it was definitely enjoyable. It definitely helped you with the stress of school, work, and other things you had, and you were eternally grateful that he was always there for you. Even when you did go back to working on the essay, Mori came by with a glass of water and a snack to make sure you were well-hydrated and had something to eat. Later that night, you were still working on the essay, and he came in to remind you that you should sleep. You told him that you wanted to keep working on it, and he sighed, and told you that he was going to sleep without you. Literally, you stayed at your laptop for 10 minutes, closed it, and joined him. He just has this magic of getting you to sleep. (and that was why you weren't tired in class the next day)

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Mori had been fidgety all day, and you knew why, you were just waiting for it to happen. You read him like a book; after all, you'd known each other longer than you could remember. His hand was in his pocket much more than usual, and his usual supportive nature had become a little more nervous- just for today though. You weren't surprised- actually, you found out a while ago.

"(y/n), will you marry me?" you heard the words you had been waiting to hear. You nodded and the tears came flowing out; you couldn't believe you were at this moment in time, such a special event you'd only experience once. You felt him gently slide the ring on your finger, and the two of you kissed right there. You were positively sure that this was the man you wanted to spend your entire life with. From the very start, to the very end.

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『••✎••』 Extra Info * ˚ ✦ ⇢ If you would like to read some of my other works, find them here! * ˚ ✦ ⇢ Taglist: If you would like to be on my taglist, send me an ask! (no one to tag no on has joined yet)

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A/N: Hey guys! Lili here!! Finally got this done after,,, way too long LOL I really hope you enjoyed it and i hope I didn't mess up the ending ,,,, oops. Anyways, just letting you know ilya and take care!

#yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #yaku morisuke #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #fanfic #x reader fanfic #fluff #yaku x reader fluff #yaku morisuke x reader fluff

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stomachflu · 4 years

Note

Ooo, for c//ritical r//oll concept, something with sick Mollymauk? Maybe he's got a really bad stomach flu but is covering it super well with his usual showmanship. He's gotten used to taking care of himself and not showing weakness while on the road-- cant miss a performance for a lil bug. Pretends to be totally fine until he crashes, cue the rest of the m9 taking care of him? Bonus for belly rubs and drawn out nausea.

🚫don’t rb to non-sickfic/emeto/kink blogs, thanks!🚫

thank you so much for this really good prompt! i’ve been working on this for a REALLY LONG TIME but cr//itical r/-/oll has become one of my new fave interests so i enjoyed writing this a lot!

have over 5k of nausea buildup, multiple puking sessions, and caretaking!

(i only realized after writing this fic that not only does jester not have the cure illness spell, but it’s not even a spell in dnd 5e, and i’m thinking of a similar spell from my 3.5e campaign. whoops! there’s probably a lot more errors in here due to me being new to the show, so please be nice to me and ignore them! ^_^)

Molly certainly hadn't objected to taking shelter out of the storm, but the town was small, with only a few small rooms in their only inn, and not much in the way of entertainment, so by all means, he should've been more than happy to be moving on as soon as the rain passed.

The thing was, he had definitely picked up something in that weather. He'd spent most of the previous day huddled in blankets, trying to rid himself of the chills that racked his body. He was lucky that they'd had enough money for four rooms this time, luckier still that Beau and Jester were still insistent upon rooming together, and Caleb and Nott were stuck like glue, leaving him and Fjord with separate rooms. Molly had to make appearances at mealtimes, of course, but he'd put on a good show then, mustering up enough energy to entertain the room with simple tricks – disappearing coins and such.

Molly had hoped that it was just a momentary illness, that it would pass in time, but when he'd woken up burning with fever, he knew he was in it for the long haul. He felt terrible, hot and cold at the same time, aching down to his very bones. It hurt to swallow, but he needed energy if he was going to beat this, so he choked down breakfast as quickly as possible.

The sky was clear now, not a cloud in sight, and they needed to be moving on. The group didn't have time to waste on a cold – Molly was no use bedridden, and, besides, there was nothing that would cure him but time. Jester needed her spells, and it wasn't like he wouldn't have plenty of time to rest in the cart.

Once they jerked into motion, though, Molly quickly realized that he'd made a mistake. He had eaten breakfast with everyone else, and his stomach was not happy with that decision. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to concentrate on something other than his suddenly-churning gut.

Probably motion sickness. Traveling had never made him ill before, but there was a first time for anything. If he had to guess, it probably had to do with how dizzy he was – having the world spin around him while he was jostled back and forth? That would make anyone queasy. What was it that people always said? Something about focusing on the horizon, but that just made him feel more queasy.

Fjord had the reigns, with Caleb keeping watch next to him, so Molly snuck a glance at the rest of the group – Nott and Beau in an animated conversation, Jester with her sketchbook – and risked placing a hand on his tender belly, rubbing it gently. He swallowed back a burp, grimacing as the pressure in his stomach only increased.

The sun was still high in the sky, and Molly needed a distraction from what was quickly becoming nausea, so he spread out his cards in front of him, shuffling through his deck.

"Ooh!" Jester exclaimed, bouncing into a sitting position across from him. "Do a reading for me, please?"

Despite himself, Molly smiled. With his view of the horizon blocked, he did feel a little better. Perhaps it was simply motion sickness after all.

"Alright, cut the deck for me – good. Now, two more times..."

Molly's momentary relief didn't last long. He did a reading for Jester, and then one for Beau. By the time Nott asked, he was certain his fever was up, sweat beading on his forehead, so he feigned exhaustion and put the cards away.

His stomach hurt. It was an on-and-off kind of pain, the cramps coming in intervals, leaving him shivering with chills each time. Maybe it's simply hunger, Molly thought, fishing out some strips of dried jerky out of his bag and gnawing on them absently. At any rate, he needed to eat to get over this illness, but putting food in his mouth, but swallowing it down just made him more nauseous.

He needed to throw up.

The thought struck Molly at the same. time that a wave of nausea washed over him, and he swallowed hard. Not right now, not this moment, but at some point in the near future, he was going to vomit.

The cart pulled off to the side of the road, jostling Molly's sick stomach and forcing a soft burp up his throat.

"Alright," Fjord said, hopping down from his position at the reins. "Short break to feed and water the horses, but 's about all I got in me. Anyone else wanna drive?" A beat in which nobody else answered, and he repeated, "Anyone...?"

"Fuck it, fine, I'll do it," Beau grumbled.

"If we are to be switching positions, is there anyone else who would like to take watch?" Caleb asked.

Molly slowly slid out of the cart, his hot, aching joints protesting every movement.

"I volunteer," he said. Maybe the fresh air would help. Already, he felt a bit better, standing in the open air like this.

That was settled, then. Fjord and Nott went about taking care of the horses, and the others took their time walking about, stretching or disappearing into the woods bordering either side of the road to relieve themselves.

Molly was glad for the thick cover of trees – the second he was out of sight of the cart, he clutched his belly with both hands, bending over at the waist. The pressure helped, but his stomach was still churning. He felt awful, knew that he needed to throw up now if he was going to keep up appearances.

Molly traipsed a little further into the underbrush, determined to keep out of earshot of the others, and... waited. He was nauseous, yes, but not nearly to the degree that he had been when he was sitting in the back of the cart.

Come on, puke already, he thought. Absentmindedly, he reached underneath his shirt to rub his stomach, the taut skin hot with fever under his palm. Almost immediately, a gurgling burp shot up his throat, and he leaned forward expectantly.

Saliva flooded into his mouth, and Molly spit onto the dirt, throat tightening in a gag. A sick belch brought up a thin mouthful of foamy bile, and he retched again and again as the liquid pattered onto the dirt.

He didn't bring anything else up, though he remained bent over at the waist. Molly knew he couldn't stay here forever – he was already pushing the limits of what the others would believe, had his excuse of needing privacy to relieve himself been true. Anyways, his stomach felt... not good, not even better, but he wasn't on the verge of puking anymore. Maybe he could make it 'till nightfall.

As he traipsed back towards the cart, he suddenly realized why nobody had gone looking for him, why his absence had gone unnoticed. Standing in a circle around Fjord and Nott were a group of bandits, weapons drawn. Molly was too far away to tell, but by their gestures, he would have bet that they were demanding the cart, and everything on it.

Sighing, he drew his swords. It was going to be a long day.

They made quick work of the bandits, dispatching their leader and sending the others running into the woods, pursued by a few of Nott's arrows. It had been a good thing that Molly hadn't asked Jester for a healing spell earlier, though, because Fjord had taken a heavy blow to the chest, and Jester used almost all of her spell slots healing him.

And so they were back on their way, with Molly perched at the front of the cart, acting as lookout. The crisp air was helping a bit – he felt less foggy, like his head wasn't quite so stuffed with cotton. His stomach, however...

Right on cue, his stomach gurgled, and Molly winced, pressing a hand to his midsection. He could feel it bubbling under his skin, everything he'd eaten churning around in there.

Oh. Oh no. A cold sweat washed over his body, and Molly swallowed back the taste of bile.

"Beau?" he asked, swallowing back a belch.

"Yeah?" She wasn't even looking at him, so he allowed himself to press three fingers to his mouth, muffling another queasy burp.

"Would you mind stopping for a moment? I need to, ah – you know, relieve myself."

"Again? We just fucking stopped," Beau grumbled, but she dutifully pulled the horses over to the side of the road anyways, and Molly gratefully slid off of the cart, walking into the treeline as fast as his queasy belly would allow him.

He was gagging before he even came to a stop, a thin trickle of vomit splashing onto the leaves at his feet. He belched up a thick mouthful of undigested food, and then he couldn't stop burping, the sight of his pale vomit on the dark leaves making him more and more nauseous.

Calm down, Molly willed his stomach. He needed to stop puking, he needed to get his churning guts under control and –

Another sickly gag, and Molly managed a mouthful of watery puke. He hovered there for almost a full minute, mouth slightly open, too queasy to even wipe away the thick ropes of saliva trickling from his lips to the ground.

Was that it? He didn't feel done. If anything, his stomach was more bloated than ever, and he didn't feel any less nauseous, but, yet again, he couldn't stay here.

"Done?" Beau asked, hopping back up onto the cart as he approached. Molly took a more careful method, gingerly leveraging himself up so that he wouldn't have to bend over, keeping one hand under the small bloat of his gurgling stomach. It didn't do much, but the illusion of supporting his belly, keeping it from being jostled – it almost convinced him to feel less queasy.

"My apologies," he said simply, muffling a nauseous burp into his fist.

Beau looked at him strangely but only shook her head, taking the reins in hand. "Let's get this show on the fuckin' road!"

He had made a mistake. Molly knew this from the moment the cart jolted to life. Not only was he not done being sick, but the motion was too much to handle. A gag rose up in his throat, and he risked the motion of pressing the back of his hand to his lips as he rode it out. His mouth filled with vomit, and he swallowed it back with effort, and then kept swallowing, throat hitching in an attempt to heave.

Molly sat as still as possible, arms wrapped around his stomach, not even trusting himself to raise his head. The cart hit a particularly bad dip in the road, and his tongue arched in a gag, and he could taste bile on his tongue, and –

"Shit, Beau, pull over," he managed tightly, his throat closing in on a gag. She protested, probably about to make a terrible joke, and then he retched, and she looked over at him in alarm.

She'd yanked the horses over to the side of the road, but he was vomiting over the side of cart before it even came to a stop. He tried to climb down, but it was more of an undignified scramble as he gagged again, adding to the puddle in the grass.

By this point, the others had taken notice, and he was surrounded by a blurry semicircle of his friends as he fell to a crouching position, gagging again and again until he belched up a torrent of puke that splashed everywhere.

He was crying, Molly realized. His face was a mess of tears and snot, thick ropes of spit dangling from his mouth. It felt as if the nausea was never going to go away. He remained there on his hands and knees, panting and belching for what felt like an eternity, until he felt strong arms under his that pulled him to his feet.

Fjord had pulled him up, and was still supporting most of Molly's weight as Jester bounced into his hazy field of view.

"You're sick! Why didn't you tell us?" she demanded, pressing a hand to his forehead. He tried to answer, but couldn't open his mouth for fear of gagging. "Oh, Mol-ly," Jester said in her lilting accent, voice light and almost... teasing? "You have a fever."

"I know that," he managed. "You n – urrp!" He burped into his fist, trying to fight back the wave of nausea that was coming on strongly now. "You need your spells."

"Well, I have one left, so you should have told me," Jester said, voice still light as she fished the Traveler's symbol out from her cloak and pressed it to his belly. "I am going to cast Cure Illness and then you are going to feel better, all right?"

Molly nodded, and the symbol began to glow as Jester concentrated. All at once, a feeling of wrongness washed over him, the nausea surging back tenfold, and he pitched over and vomited on Jester's shoes.

"I really do apologize," Molly said miserably for what might have been the tenth time. "I wasn't aiming for you at all."

"My shoes can be cleaned!" Jester said brightly, crouching barefoot in the grass next to him. "You really do need to keep drinking, though."

After Jester's spell had failed and his stomach had calmed somewhat, they'd half-dragged, half-carried him a good bit away from the puddle he'd left on the ground. Fjord had handed him a handkerchief to wipe his mouth with ("Please, keep it.") and Caleb had fished a handful of dry, bland crackers out of his pocket, instructing Molly that he needed to both drink to avoid dehydration, and fill his stomach with something inoffensive if he could.

More like something stale, Molly thought, nibbling on the edge of a cracker. Thinking about how long they'd been in Caleb's pockets made his gorge rise, but before he could ruminate on the thought for too long and make himself sick, Beau walked over from where she'd been huddled with Caleb, Fjord, and Nott.

"Alright, here's the plan," she announced, map in hand. "We obviously can't camp here, so we're gonna get'cha back in the cart and find somewhere where we can settle down for the night, take it nice and slow. There're some towns we could make it to before sundown, but we'd have to go at a pretty fast clip, and I really do not want you puking over all of my things."

"That is very agreeable to me," Molly said, placing a hand on his sour stomach. At Jester's urging, he ate a few more of the crackers and drank deeply from the waterskin as everyone else worked out the logistics of their new plan.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, followed by a chill traveling down his spine, and Molly put his head between his knees, breathing deeply. He could do this. Now that he'd vomited, he would feel better any minute now –

"Molly? Do you think you can stand on your own, or should I be helping you?" Jester asked.

"Thanks for the offer, but I can stand," he said, pulling himself to his feet. His belly felt awful, all the water he'd drank churning in a way that really didn't feel good. He could actually hear his guts sloshing as he heaved himself back up onto the cart.

Jester frowned as he put a hand on the bloat of his still-tender stomach. "Are you feeling bad again? Do you need to vomit?"

"Yes, and maybe," Molly said, swallowing thickly. "Not right now. Probably soon."

"Get him set up in the back of the cart," Beau suggested dryly. "If he's gotta puke, he can do it over the edge. If we stay here any longer, it’s gonna get dark."

"That's a good idea!" Jester exclaimed. As Molly shivered with fever, she collected his blankets and bedroll, setting them in the back of the cart, close enough that he would only need to turn his head to vomit over the side. He gratefully settled into the little nest she'd built for him, arms wrapped around his protesting stomach now that he didn't have to hide his illness. Jester sat next to him, humming as she pulled out her sketchbook.

The cart jolted back to life, and Molly swallowed back a sour belch. His stomach was cramping again, and he screwed his eyes shut, tongue rising in a silent gag. He slipped his hand under his shirt to rub his stomach, only to feel a small hand on his wrist.

"Oh! This looks very painful," Jester said, scooting closer to place her hand on the swell of his stomach. "Does it hurt to touch?"

Molly shook his head. "Just hurts in general. Cramps, I'm..." He trailed off as the cart hit a pothole on the road, causing him to burp lightly into his fist. "I'm feeling a bit queasy right now, to be honest."

"Would it help if I rubbed your stomach?" Jester asked, already untucking the loose fabric of his shirt from his pants and rucking it up to his chest.

"Normally, I'd ask you to buy me dinner first, but..." The suggestive joke was lost as Jester poked experimentally at his stomach. Even if he'd wanted to, Molly couldn't fake being healthy now with his flushed, swollen belly on display, gurgling and churning audibly. Her touch ushered up a soft burp, and he blushed a bit, uncomfortable with the sheer amount of sickness, of vulnerability he was showing.

"Did that feel good? I bet it did!" Jester said, continuing to gently skim her hand over his stomach.

He had to give it to her, Jester was good with her hands. She rubbed his stomach in widening circles, slowly increasing the pressure as she went, switching to kneading the sides of his bloated belly every so often, pressing in with her thumbs as she did so. It seemed as if she knew just when to push in deeply, releasing a pocket of air that had been trapped, finally letting him burp it up.

As they bounced around, Molly's burps became more frequent and more queasy. At some point, he had to ask Jester to stop so he could fish out Fjord's handkerchief, and he pressed that against his mouth now, muffling increasingly wet belches.

"I hate to ask, but –" He gagged, mouth closed. "Jes, do you have any healing spells left?"

Molly's stomach gave a particularly loud gurgle, and Jester pressed in hard, dragging her hand along where it was bubbling the most. "I'm sorry, that was my last one! I won't have any more until tomorrow".

"Okay," he choked out, fighting back another gag. "I'm going to vomit again."

He turned his head and did just that, retching harshly over the side of the cart. A series of burps brought up small mouthfuls of water and undigested crackers. He gagged and belched over and over, only aware of the sensation of Jester's cool hands on his stomach, soothing away cramps and then pressing in each time he heaved.

The next thing he knew, Beau was supporting his back, trying to get him to sit up, and Jester was wiping his face with a cool rag. "Not done –" he tried to croak, but retched dryly before he could even finish the sentence.

"It's okay, go ahead and puke!" Jester said brightly, folding the cloth and cupping it under his mouth.

Molly shook his head, lips pressed tightly shut. He was gonna make a mess, he needed to turn back over the side – but Jester held his chin steadily, keeping his head over her cupped hands, and he retched again and again, bringing up more than a mouthful of stringy bile that was easily absorbed by the cloth.

"Think you're empty, dude," Beau said after a few minutes of fruitless gagging. Molly shook his head, one hand pressed to his aching chest. "Look, okay, I'm gonna teach you some monk shit, right?"

"'Kay," Molly managed, immediately choking on a retch.

"This breathing shit, it's supposed to keep you centered, or something like that? I dunno. Anyways. You're gonna breathe in through your nose for eight counts –" She counted him up, and Molly shakily inhaled, fighting back gags all the while. "–And then out through your mouth for another eight."

On five, Molly gagged, slapping his hand across his mouth even though he knew he had nothing left to lose.

"You gotta keep doing it, okay? Don't stop fucking breathing. It helps me when I'm motion sick; you'll feel better soon."

He hoped so. Molly leaned back, listening to the quiet count of eight-seven-six-five-four... He breathed in. He breathed out.

By nightfall, they'd found a small clearing with enough room to pull over the cart and horses and lay out bedrolls. Molly mostly dozed through the process, lying in his nest of blankets in the back of the cart, watching proceedings through half-lidded eyes.

"Molly should be nearest to the fire!" Jester insisted. "Look at him, he's shaking!"

"Don't think that you're supposed to let someone with a fever get any hotter," Fjord drawled. "Maybe we oughta help him cool down first."

The cart rocked a bit as Beau clambered up, sitting cross-legged next to Molly. "Hey," she said. "I'm supposed to make sure that you're drinking water. Are you?"

Molly made a face. He'd been trying to, really, but it just didn't feel good.

"Shit," Beau said. "You gonna puke again?"

"No, it's more like..." He grimaced again, waving a hand in the general direction of his stomach. "Cramps. Hurts."

"Puking all day really took it out of you, huh?"

Molly nodded. His stomach muscles were just sore. Even sitting up hurt; he really didn't want to have to puke again. Just for Beau, he took a small sip of water.

"Excuse me," Caleb said, appearing on Molly's right like a ghost. "I could not help but overhear you say that you were experiencing, ah..." He tried a few words in Zemnian before landing on, "Pain, soreness, in the stomach?"

"Yeah," Beau said, and Molly flashed her a grateful smile. His throat was raw from stomach bile, and talking hurt. "Probably from puking too much. Y'know, if you keep that up, I bet you could get a fucking amazing set of abs," she said, elbowing Molly.

"What makes you think mine aren't already stunning?" he retorted.

"I do not think Molly wishes to repeat such... an intense performance," Caleb said, already flipping through one of his books. "Can I have... yes, that, give me that."

Beau tossed him one of the blankets that had been cast aside, and Caleb caught it in one hand, deftly folding it into a compact square and working some sort of magic on it, something that made both his hands and the blanket glow.

"Here," he said at last. "It is enchanted to stay warm for at least a few hours. Not as good as a heating pack, but, under these circumstances..."

"Thank you, Caleb," Molly rasped, nodding his head in gratitude. The folded blanket was warm to the touch, and he peeled off the other blankets to set it on his stomach, the tension instantly draining out of him as warmth spread through his body. The effect was like taking a hot bath after an intense fight – not completely relieving his aches and pains, but making them much more bearable.

Eventually, Molly was able to stand as Beau and Jester moved his bedroll over to the fire, but he gratefully sank back into the blankets as soon as possible. Even with his makeshift heating pad, he was left trembling with both cold and exhaustion, his energy sapped by just a few simple movements.

"You need to eat, Molly!" Jester exclaimed. "It will make you stronger, you know?"

"I'm good, thanks," Molly said, and then, at her intensifying glare, added, "Really, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Well, Fjord is making soup, so! You should eat it anyways."

"'S less of a soup and more of... I dunno. Leftover meat in water?"

"Hot water," Molly said. He was feeling well enough to joke with the others, at least.

He thought to close his eyes and get some rest, but an insistent poking at his shoulder startled Molly out of any chance at sleep, and he turned his head to see Nott crouched next to him, holding a vial in one green hand.

"Here!" she said, pushing the vial into his own hand and closing his fingers around it when he just stared. "You have to drink it!"

"What is this?" Molly asked, holding the vial up to the light. The glass was dirty, nearly opaque, but the liquid inside seemed to be thick and viscous, a texture that made his gorge rise. "Medicine?"

"Yes! Sort of! It will help settle your stomach, make it hurt less. Probably!"

"Nott," Molly said slowly, "did you make this yourself?" She had the chemistry kit, yes, but from the amount of times he had seen her make acid with it, he didn't want to drink anything that came from one of her vials.

"Yeees," she said slowly, stretching the word out. "But it works!" At Molly's doubtful look, she added, "I drank it before, several times! When I had too much to drink, or when I was hungover, or..."

"All right, I get it, thank you," Molly said. "I appreciate the thought."

He uncorked the vial and peered inside. The liquid was a muddy brown, and grit rose to the top as he swirled it. Well, what did he have to lose, besides his lunch? He tipped the contents into his mouth, gagging on the texture but forcing it down in one swallow. The aftertaste was absolutely vile, and he lurched forward, clapping a hand against his mouth as his stomach threatened to revolt.

"You gotta keep it down!" Nott exclaimed. "Otherwise, it doesn't work."

Molly hummed, rocking back and forth as he tried to swallow back the bile that was creeping up his throat. A muffled gag sent the potion flooding into his mouth, filling his cheeks out, and if was only by sheer willpower that he swallowed it down again.

"Ugh," Molly said when the nausea had passed. "You have a stronger stomach than I do, my friend."

Nott beamed at him with a mouthful of sharp teeth, and Molly found the strength to laugh.

After another few minutes of quiet chatter, it became evident that the potion had worked, at least in some capacity. Molly's stomach felt more sure, like that tight queasiness had abated somewhat, and he was able to entertain the thought of food without gagging. Maybe he really was on the mend.

"You know what?" he asked. "Maybe I'll try some of that soup after all."

Molly woke up shaking, drenched in sweat, and with a growing sense of queasiness in his belly. He tried to ignore the latter – he had been feeling a bit better, just weak, and he didn't want to get up – but the churning and bubbling under his hand wasn't going away, and he didn't enjoy the thought of soiling the campgrounds.

With a muffled groan, he rolled over, his stomach protesting every move as he stood. It was bloated again, he noticed, far more than last time. Clearly, the soup he'd eaten wasn't sitting well at all.

"You are awake," Caleb observed from his post as watchman. "What are you doing?"

"Need some privacy," Molly said quietly, giving him a small half-smile. He didn't want to wake anyone else, didn't want the attention –

"Are you going to vomit?"

"That too," he muttered.

"I will come with you," Caleb announced. "You are ill, and I would feel – badly, if anything happened to you."

"You don't have to," Molly said, pressing his hand against his sour stomach. His nausea was mounting quickly, a sure sign that he needed to leave before he redecorated the campsite. "You're on watch duty, besides."

"I have this." Caleb gestured to the silver thread wound 'round the perimeter. "I will know if anything happens while we are gone."

"As you wish." Molly pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, burping quietly. He traipsed into the woods yet again, Caleb at his heels. When the dying light of the campfire was no longer visible, he allowed himself to stop, stretching out one arm to lean on a nearby tree and breathing heavily.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he focused on breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. Beau's exercises didn't make him any less nauseous, but his heart wasn't beating quite so fast, and it helped him breathe through some of the worst cramps.

"Are you still going to vomit?" Molly jumped, nearly forgetting that Caleb was with him. The other man stood a few feet away, head tilted curiously to the side. "I thought you said you were nauseous."

"I will, eventually." Another cramp seized his middle, and Molly winced, bending forward and clamping his hand down on his stomach. The movement jarred a long, deep belch up his throat, and he stayed there for a moment, the taste of acid on the back of his tongue. "It's coming up, just – I'm waiting."

"I see."

Saliva was beginning to collect in Molly's mouth, and he parted his lips, allowed it to fall to the forest floor. No point in holding it back now. "You should head back now, if you don't want to be disgusted. It's not – uuuurp–gh!" A deep, rumbling burp turned into a gag, and Molly clapped his hand against his mouth as he spoke, voice muffled by his fingers. "It's not pretty."

"I am not disgusted," Caleb said, his clipped accent making the words sharper, somehow. "It is merely a function of the body, no more or no less. You are ill, ja? Let your body do what it needs to."

"Mmm." Molly gagged audibly, spitting a glob of thick saliva onto the ground. He felt awful, sick and dizzy again, wanting nothing more than to get this over with.

"Beau said earlier that rubbing your stomach helped, yes? Would you like me to... shall we say, get things started for you?"

"Please," Molly practically begged, shaking with nausea. Caleb silently walked behind him, wrapping his arms around Molly, fingers resting on the base of his stomach. "I can't believe you're not absolutely grossed out by this."

"Like I said, I would like to be of help."

Unlike Jester, Caleb's hands were warm, almost hot to the touch, and Molly wondered if he was doing that with magic. He didn't waste any time, just waited until Molly's stomach cramped and then pushed in, hard.

Molly immediately belched up a hot torrent of vomit, the soup he'd consumed earlier splattering at his feet in a foamy mess. Caleb didn't let up, keeping up a steady pattern of squeezing and then letting go, ushering up wet burps alternating with splashes of thick vomit. Nott's potion, he recognized with disgust. It tasted even worse coming up.

When he was belching emptily, Caleb released his stomach, turning Molly to face him.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm – urp! – waiting on the next round," Molly said. Caleb held out a waterskin, and Molly shook his head queasily.

"You know, vomiting on an empty stomach is never much fun," Caleb insisted quietly.

Molly got a few swallows down before he gagged directly into the waterskin, spraying watery puke onto his hand and arm and down his chest, soaking his nightshirt. He choked on it, coughing and spitting out mouthfuls of water and bile, gulping down gags and trying his best to catch his breath.

When the coughing fit stopped, though, his stomach had stopped churning. The cooling vomit on his shirt and beads of sweat on his forehead let him know that his fever had broken, too.

"That was absolutely vile, but I feel – better," he said under Caleb's questioning gaze. "I didn't catch you in any of that, did I?"

"Oh!" Caleb said, as if he had never even considered the possibility. "No, I believe that my clothing is... unscathed, for now. Are you finished?"

Molly wiped his mouth on his sleeve, making a face. "For now. I'll probably have to puke again later, but I don't enjoy the idea of sitting out here and waiting for it."

"If it would help," Caleb offered, "you might sit with me while you wait for your stomach to settle."

Molly smiled, despite himself. "I just might take you up on that, my friend."

#emetophilia #emeto #do NOT @ me about characterization or anything please... i am new here!#ironically molly is one of the hardest characters for me to get a grasp on so i hope i did him justice!#(rip. i know.)#is caleb into it (tm)? Maybe A Little. but that's just headcanon it's not canon in the fic #supersecretsick #my fic

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