#maybe I’ll change it to wet food in the morning so she’s more likely to eat it throughout the day? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

galamalion · 11 months ago

Text

┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

┈ ✧.* summary﹕after a group breakfast, you attend your totally boring not-at-all-cool college classes and end your night on a particularly high note.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.6k

┈ ✧.* chapter iv﹕breakfast, books, and bedtimes

“Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead…” a feminine voice whispered from above.

You twitched at the sudden interruption to your sleep, blinking your eyes open once, then twice, and then snapping them fully shut before tucking under your blankets and turning the other direction.

“No…” you groaned, pressing your face into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”

“This isn’t a TV show, get up!” a different voice barked, yanking your blankets off.

Jumping up, sleep still plaguing your body, you lunged towards the blanket-thief, attempting to take your blanket back from their thieving hands.

“Give it back,” you whined, unable to pull it away from her.

“Nope! It’s time for class, no more sleeping!” she cooed.

You sat back in your bed, watching the figure as you slowly began to focus on objects, realizing it was Nami you were fighting.

“God damnit, Nami!” you hissed, stretching your tired body.

“I’m sorry,” Vivi pleaded, looking incredibly guilty. “Nami told me that we could wake you up, I didn’t know you would be so…unreceptive to the idea.”

“It’s fine, Vivi. I guess it’s good that I’m awake now. Do we have plans or something this morning?” you said, sluggishly getting out of bed and walking to your closet.

“Just breakfast,” Nami replied, sitting down on Vivi’s bed.

“With the boys?”

“With the boys,” she said, checking her phone. “They should be there already, want us to wait?”

“Nah.” You grabbed your shower-bag, towel, and fresh pair of clothes. “I’ll shower and be down in a little bit.”

“You sure?” Vivi asked, watching you walk into the small bathroom.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you called from inside, “I’m not leaving this room till I’m clean, you get me?”

“For sure,” you heard Nami sigh in understanding, “well, we’ll see you in a bit, ‘kay?”

“Got it!” You heard the door open and then shut, proceeding to then turn on the shower and hop in.

Once you finished and dried off, you changed into your clean clothes. After carefully brushing your wet hair, you quickly washed your face and headed out towards the dining hall. On your way there you checked your phone for the time, noticing a couple different texts from about half an hour ago.

Oh, shit. Maybe this is why Vivi and Nami woke you up. You continued scrolling through your phone, seeing another text.

It took another minute of walking before you reached the dining hall, climbing the small flight of stairs to reach the top. Your appearance was immediately noted by your table of friends as you spotted Luffy waving excitedly at your entrance. Before he could scream your name—or whatever he planned on yelling—his mouth was quickly covered by Usopp who was then assisted by Sanji in dragging him back down to his chair.

You quickly grabbed a tray of food and made your way over to the table, sitting next to Vivi.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Sanji cooed, giving you a teasing finger wave.

“She’s not a fairy tale character, you half-rate cook,” Zoro scoffed.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, huh?” Sanji hissed, easily enraged by the words of his nemesis. “You tellin’ me she doesn’t look like a princess? What kind of gentlemen do you think you are?”

“I didn’t say she was ugly, I just think she’s not defined by the time she wakes up,” Zoro retorted, finishing his third bowl of rice.

“It’s alright, Zoro,” you reassured, “I mean, doesn’t every girl dream of being a princess? It’s kind of nice to hear it, I guess.”

“Not me!” Nami cheerily answered, peeling away at an orange. “I wanted to be rich, like that Rumplestiltskin guy!”

Sanji swooned, “I’ll be your Rumplestiltskin, my orange blossom!”

“I said I wanna be him, not owe anyone favors,” she scoffed. “But if you’re offering to spin straw into gold for me, go ahead!”

You listened into their three-way conversation for a little longer before turning to Vivi in hopes of a less fiery conversation.

“So, Vi, what classes have you got today?” you asked politely.

Vivi looked excited as she began her explanation, “Well, I have a civics class in about an hour, and then I’ll have a philosophy class after that, and then an economy class…I think that wraps up my day!”

“Wow, pretty wide area of studies,” you remarked. “You’re a political science major, right?”

“Yep!” Vivi clasped her hands together. “It’s good to have an open mind in this field, so I’m trying to gain more perspectives while studying here, so I think these kinds of classes suit me best.”

“Luffy could take a page out of your book,” you sighed.

“What? I don’t need any books! I already have mine!” Luffy hollered from across the table, mouth stuffed with meat. It was a miracle you could even tell what he was saying.

“Nothing, Luffy!” you called back, hoping the food flying from Luffy’s mouth wouldn’t land on anyone nearby.

Vivi politely cleared her throat, “What kind of classes do you have today?”

“Ugh,” you groaned, slouching in your seat.

“Well, that doesn’t appear to be a good sign,” Vivi observed.

“I just don’t want to go to chemistry,” you made a quick vomiting gesture. “I have two psychology classes after that, but I’d rather go to those first and chemistry last, ya feel me?”

Vivi nodded astutely, “Yes, but if you have chemistry now, then you can end your day off on a high note!”

“Always seeing the glass half-full, huh?” you asked, smiling at her enthusiasm.

“I certainly try to. I think it helps me view the world more brightly.”

“Not a bad reason to,” you sighed.

The eight of you ate breakfast together, constantly switching conversations as you all learned new bits and pieces from one another. Sanji was studying culinary arts, Usopp was studying engineering, Vivi had a personal butler back home, and Zoro grew up in a dojo. All in all, your friends' lives were far more interesting than your own. Growing up in a well-maintained orphanage didn’t do much for character growth, after all.

“Well,” you stood up, “my class is starting soon, so I should head out now,”

“Ah, leaving so soon, just like last time!” Sanji cried. “I’ll miss you, my sweet princess!”

“Have fun,” Zoro murmured, drinking from a flask of booze.

“Where the hell’d you get that?!” Usopp gaped.

You decided to make your exit before the situation got out of hand.

“I hate chemistry,” you groaned, trekking over to the science building.

It wasn’t that chemistry was particularly hard, but it was a lot of work. Concepts could be explained, equations could be understood, and values could be memorized. But it was just so damn boring at times. Sitting still during lecture was insufferable, but you could keep up for a little bit, at least until the next new thing was introduced. Then you’d be lost. But that’s what office hours and tutors were for, you supposed.

You climbed the stairs up to your class, dreading the pit of boredom that awaited you within. Reaching the classroom, you carefully turned the handle and stepped inside. Immediately upon entering, you immediately noticed a familiar face.

Sitting at a lone table off to the side was your lab assistant, Law, if you remembered correctly. Was he really assisting two chemistry classes? What kind of psychotic lunatic would subject themselves to that kind of pain?

His mental state wasn’t something you particularly cared about, especially considering your somewhat embarrassing encounter with him. You decided to just claim a seat and ignore him until further notice, most likely until you needed help with something.

The class itself was cut and dry; Avogrado’s number is important and we’re all made of molecules. Once the lesson was over and the hour was up, you began to pack up your things, particularly slower than your fellow students, who were racing to exit the building.

Once you had your laptop (and pens, pencils, notebook, and calculator) all stored within your bag, you stood from your chair to leave.

“Last one to leave again, huh?” Law’s voice rang out as he stood from his table.

You took a deep breath in, “I guess so, yeah. Last one to wake up, last one to leave.”

“Bad habits can be hard to break,” he advised, walking to the door.

“And that’s why we have alarm clocks,” you muttered, following behind him.

Law snickered at your comment, “That’s what I thought when I was a freshman. They’re pretty effective until you pull three all-nighters in a row.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be pulling any all-nighters, then,” you asserted. “I’ll just have to study before I have a test.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked, turning into a different hallway than you, leaving you behind.

“Maybe I will,” you murmured to yourself, walking out of the building.

You strolled through campus, intent on heading back to your dorm and studying a little, maybe getting lunch with Vi and Nami later.

“____!” a voice shrilled from across your path.

Turning to your left, you saw Usopp and Zoro making their way towards you, the former waving.

“Hey, ____,” Usopp began, “me and Zoro were gonna go to the library and study, wanna come?”

You thought for a moment, “Yeah sure, sounds like fun. I’ve got some work I need to finish up on.”

“Sweet!” Usopp cheered, charging towards the direction of the library. “Follow me, Usoppites!”

You and Zoro gave each other a knowing before the latter shrugged his shoulders, stomping after the young man.

The three of you gathered together at a table, pulling up chairs and setting your notebooks and laptops up on top.

“So,” you began, opening up your computer, “anyone have exciting stories from their first week?”

“It’s only Tuesday,” Zoro groaned, rubbing his forehead and leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes, “That doesn’t mean cool stuff can’t have happened, mossy .”

“Only annoying if it’s from Sanji,” he scoffed, crossing his arms with a tiny smirk on his face. What, was it the curly eyebrows that ruined the name for him?

“I have a story, kind of,” Usopp interjected sheepishly. “It’s about a guy in one of my engineering classes…”

“Well, spit it out,” Zoro grunted.

“Look who’s interested now,” you teased, poking him in the shoulder.

“Never said I wasn’t,” he fired back.

Usopp cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a huge guy in my mechanical engineering class, and I mean massive guy. Everything about him his huge—shoulders, thighs, calves, neck,”

“Dick?” Zoro chuckled, earning a playful shove from you.

“I can only assume so,” Usopp answered honestly. “But anyways, I don’t know why he’s in the class, he’s a junior .”

‘I know a thing or two about juniors,’ you thought to yourself, flipping through your notebook.

“I’ve heard some rumors from other students. A few say that the school’s making him retake the class because he beat up the teacher, but I’ve also heard that he beat up his entire class,” Usopp whispered, looking around as if the student would appear behind him. “But most importantly, people have said that he’s a G-A-N-G leader!”

You and Zoro shared a brief look before turning to Usopp.

“I know that Grand Line isn’t exactly known for its prim and properness, Usopp,” you reasoned, “however, if this guy really beat the shit out of his teacher or class or whatever he did, the school would probably expel him, not make him retake the class.”

“____ has a point,” Zoro yawned, “but there’s probably a reason he has those rumors around him. I’d keep an eye out.”

“No problemo!” Usopp straightened his papers, “I’m keeping a close eye on him, just in case he tries something dastardly. I won’t end up like my predecessors!”

All you could do was hesitantly accept Usopp’s resolution, slightly fearing for his safety if he were to be caught.

“Am I really the only one with a problem student in my classes?” Usopp grumbled, “I thought bad boys would be more widespread at Grand Line…”

“Well, I don’t have a problem student per se,” you lightly coughed, “but I have an assistant in two of my classes, and I think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow, “You think he’s gonna fail you or somethin’?”

“Well, no,” you admitted, “I just think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

“Repeating what you said doesn’t make your meaning any clearer…” Usopp pointed out, chewing on the back of his pencil.

“Ok, well, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed, glaring down at your papers.

“I have a class with Luffy,” Zoro said coolly.

“What makes you think he counts as a bad boy?!” you and Usopp snarled.

After your little discussion, the three of you began working separately on your assignments. You focused on studying in advance of your next chemistry class, hoping to prove Law wrong in his assumptions. By keeping ahead of your work, you could easily sleep in far longer than intended. At least until you had a morning class. But you could worry about that next semester, or whenever the universe decided to sprinkle a little misfortune in your idealistic college experience. Damned universe.

The silence persisted for an hour, only interrupted by an occasional cough or hurried knee-bouncing beneath the table. Your phone was the first real disturbance, buzzing on the table and causing a light shiver to course through it. You hurriedly removed it and checked to see what caused the notification, spotting a text from Nami.

You looked at Nami’s picture, seeing a selfie of her sitting in the middle of a small tile floor, a sink and shower in the background.

“Alright guys,” you breathed, standing up and gathering your things. “I have been cordially invited to attend a slumber party and must take my leave.”

“Will you be okay walking back alone?” Usopp asked.

You swung your bag over your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you guys if I need anything.”

“Stay safe,” Zoro muttered, hunched over a stack of papers.

“Yeah, good luck with all that,” you laughed quietly, leaving the library.

“Nami?” you called out, stepping into the hallway of your dorm floor.

“Right here!” Nami’s voice echoed back, spotting you and offering a small wave.

She was sitting up against the wall right next to your dorm room’s door and wearing her pajamas, peeling a small tangerine with her left hand and scrolling on her phone with her right.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she groaned, pointing to a pile of tangerine peels, “I’ve been bored out of my mind waiting for Vi to finish setting up.”

“I assume a picturesque site awaits us behind the door,” you joked, sliding down beside her.

“Ugh, you and your big fancy-pants lingo,” she pouted, popping a tangerine slice into her mouth.

“What, is picturesque too big a word for your shiny golden brain?” you teased. “I’ll rephrase—It’s gonna be real purty in that room! How’d I do?”

Nami jabbed you with her elbow, earning a yelp from you.

“I’ll have you know, Little Miss Knows-a-Lot, that I won my elementary school’s spelling bee when I was—”

Before Nami could finish her retort, the door beside her flew open, revealing a very chipper Vivi dressed in her matching silk pajamas, holding another matching pair and a blindfold.

“Oh, good afternoon, ____! Thank you very much for agreeing to attend my slumber party. I have prepared a pair of pajamas for you to wear, but you’ll have to put on this blindfold to go get changed, I do not want my surprise ruined!”

You nodded, giving Nami a salute before allowing Vivi to lead you blindfolded into the bathroom to get changed. And, after changing, you patiently waited for Vivi to give you the go ahead to leave.

“You done yet, Vi?” you tapped on the bathroom door while reading the labels on everyone's skin care products.

“Almost, I promise!” she hollered back, “I just need to put on the finishing touches to make sure nothing falls down!”

“Falls down?” Nami shouted through the door. “Just what are you doing to our room?”

“Nothing permanent!” Vivi sang, clearly rushing back and forth in the room judging by her voice.

“I’ve had to start reading the backs of shampoo bottles now, Vi! If I run out of labels to read I think I’ll die,” you pleaded.

“Hey, be careful touching my stuff! Break it and you pay for it!” Nami barked, knocking viciously on her door.

“How am I gonna break a shampoo bottle?” you scoffed, placing it back down and reciprocating her violent knocks.

Just as you were about to send another knock Nami’s way, the bathroom door flew open, causing you to stumble forward and onto the floor.

“Oops! I’m so sorry!” Vivi cried, helping you up and opening the door to the dorm.

“Well, let’s see this awesome slumber party room…” Nami started, the words quickly dying on her tongue as she took in the room.

Beautiful was too dull a word to describe how absolutely stunning the room was. The blankets had been rearranged to form a tent structure between the two beds, using a tall stick that had come from who knows where with a base that allowed it to remain firmly planted without fear of toppling over. Little fairy lights decorated the ceiling of the fort, both large and tiny pillows decorated the sides of the fort, and soft, fluffy blankets were scattered about for snuggling purposes. Snacks were stacked within the fort along the bed frames, easily within reach of anyone who wanted anything, bowls sitting underneath a bed. On the other side of the fort was Vivi’s laptop with about fifteen tabs of different streaming services open for your viewing pleasure during this slumber party.

Nami gaped at the sight, “Vi, it’s…”

“...Picturesque?” you breathed, staring in amazement.

“Welcome!” Vivi clasped her hands in excitement before spreading them out, “to my very first slumber party!”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

158 notes · View notes

avalentina · 1 year ago

Text

Satellite: A Harry Styles Song Fic - Sneaky

A/N: made an actual post with the sneaky so I can link it on my masterlist! -Ava

"Darling, there are some perks to being a Baroness, although you are technically in line for the throne, as am I."

"Tell me you're not being serious right now, mother, I'm not a princess, I'm a lawyer who dabbles in songwriting with her boyfriend, just sang a song with him onstage at Coachella and lives a quietish life in Hampstead.

"Relax, you are not a princess, you're of royal blood, there's quite a difference. Believe it or not, there are a few hundred commoners in London who are of royal blood, most just are not aware. And it was my line that was of royal blood, so your father saw it as a way to increase his status. I was also not given a choice in my marriage, but unlike you I lacked the courage to do something about it for myself and if you are the result of that then I am very happy I went along with it."

"Thank you mother."

"Someday I hope to hear you call me mum once again, but until then I am just happy to speak to you."

"I would like that too, now for dinner next week, Wednesday or Thursday?" You reply and ask.

Let me speak with Lorraine and Fitzwilliam, and then I'll have a memo sent to you at your office, via your assistant, Amelia isn't it?"

"She prefers Mia, and she's not my assistant, but she is in my department. I don't keep an assistant, I prefer to manage it all myself."

"Well I will have it go to Mia then just to avoid violating the contact order."

"That won't be necessary, I'll have it fixed before the end of the day."

Over the next hour you asked your mother all the tough questions that you had been waiting years to ask and she answered every single one of them in detail, she told you more about Fitzwilliam, and how her and Lorraine are quite friendly. Having chosen to make light of the situation your father had put them both in. When you're getting ready to head out you pause to look at your mother, she too is standing and without letting your head convince you otherwise, you give her a quick, polite, appropriate hug.

"Thank you Mum, thank you for this, for everything we discussed today. I'll be waiting for your letter or call.” You say as the two of you walk out.

When you return home, H is waiting by the door to greet you like a lovesick puppy. The wet sloppy kiss you receive also reminds you of a puppy, of which you have two that are also begging for your attention and happy to have you home.

“I Can See You’re Lonely Down There”

It’s Thursday, the day you and Harry are having dinner with your mum, half-brother, and his mum. If all goes well H wants to do another dinner next week with the addition of his mum and his sister Gemma, maybe even invite his father.

Your nerves are starting to get the better of you, you know that you and H still have secrets between you, you especially, there are so many things that happened in your five years away from him that haunt you to this very day. Some of them you’re a little surprised he doesn’t seem to know about, but then again, your father had it buried in a snap of his fingers.

But tonight is about looking forward not dwelling in the past. Tonight is about the bond blood can create, reuniting as an albeit slightly dysfunctional family, but still a family. You’re going back to your roots and sharing them with the man you love.

“Morning Lovie,” H says as he brings you breakfast in bed this morning. He made pancakes, but not just any pancakes, these pancakes are stuffed with cheesecake, and are drizzled in chocolate and caramel sauce. You smile brightly at the gesture and the two of you spend the next hour cuddling and enjoying the delicious food. Once it’s gone you turn to H, just wanna change and then I’ll meet you down in the kitchen.

You knew this would take most of the day, you two have a lot to make, and cooking in the kitchen together with H is one of your favorite things to do. He wears skimpy shorts, no shirt, a pair of socks so he dance around the kitchen while cooking, and a damned claw clip holding back his messy curls. The damned clip gets you soaked every time but you wouldn’t change a thing, being horny and desperate just up the level of difficulty and amount of concentration needed to properly execute the recipe and you love the pressure just like you love a challenge, sides, H always fixes it. Today you decided to tease him a bit by wearing a y/f/c (your favorite color) bra and panty set, the set itself is basic and plain, but when you put on your white crochet mini over it you know it will drive him crazy, especially when you add the rose gold choker that has the letters ‘H⬪S’ in the middle. You also stick with socks only on your feet so you can dance around with H, knowing he’d pull you around regardless,

When you enter the kitchen, in addition to his standard cooking fit, he added the pink frilly apron you got him for his birthday the first year you were together. When you see how he also used a pink claw clip you can’t help but giggle which alerts Harry to your presence, not that he didn’t know you were there because he did, but he allowed himself to look at you after the giggle.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned seeing what you were wearing. “How am I supposed to cook when you look like that.” he adds, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Now you know how I feel watching you dance around the kitchen in skimpy shorts, sometimes just your briefs, without a shirt, a towel over your shoulder, and your hair in of those damned clips that make me fucking swoon, you dolt.” you counter and he just smirks.

“Ya know, it does feel like a brief kinda day,” he comments and slips his shorts off, right in front of you, slow and sensual. Man has your eyes glued to his gorgeous package.

“Is that the game we’re playing H?” you ask and even the score by removing your bra and panties, but leaving the cover on.

“Let’s start cooking before I end up fucking you on the cleaned and sanitized counters.” You bite back a moan and nod your head.

“Words, lovie.”

“Oh for fucks sake, just fuck me out of my misery H, please, we can re-clean them and still have enough time to do everything, plus have time for our oomph.” You are cut off by H melding his lips with yours and demanding access to your mouth. He pulls the tie on the front of the cover free and gives both of your ass cheeks a good slap before completely removing the cover.

“Open,” he demands, one you eagerly comply with, especially because you can tell he is feeling very much his dominant, alpha male self today. He spits directly onto your tongue, before resealing his lips with yours, his tongue spreading it all over the inside of your mouth. Pulling back just a bit, he smirks before running a single finger through your dripping folds, he brings it back up and smears it all over your lips before kissing them clean. Then he goes back for more, but this time he has you suck yourself off of his finger, repeating the last one again, only with two fingers and licking them clean himself. All while somehow keeping his eyes locked on yours, and yours locked on his, unable to look away even if you wanted to.

“S’ fucking delicious, baby, could eat you all fucking day for the rest of my entire fucking life and still not have enough.” You moan at his words and grip the sides of his apron to pull him flush against you. His hands return to your ass, then a bit lower where he slaps so you know to jump.

“Y’ve got me so fucking whipped I can’t even go 24 hours without fucking your tight, pretty little cunt.” his words are like pouring gasoline on a bonfire in the middle of a fucking forest, igniting every nerve in your body, to the point where it moves of its own volition, grinding your bare, drenched cunt against his brief covered cock, staining them with your arousal.

“Fucking drenching my cock and its not even out yet doll, fucks.” he says, his voice almost a moan.

“OH GOD, please H, please just split me in fucking half with your cock, can’t wait anymore.” You cry out, on the verge of an orgasm.

“Gonna come already baby, ‘ve barely touched your cunt.”

“DON”T FUCKING CARE H, JUST FUCK ME, WANNA COME SO BAD!” you whine and plead and beg. “PLEASE! FUCKING PLEASE H!” before your body even has time to register, his briefs are off and his cock is pressing at your entrance waiting for you to tip over that blissful edge before he slides in.

He knows your tight, you’re always fucking tight, but he also knows you like the initial bit of pain. He ruts once, twice, thrice, never entering you just rubbing against you and giving your ass cheeks a nice, rough pinch on each rut. That was all it took to tip the scales and send you tumbling over. Knowing he can build up a nice gush, he pinches at your clit before rubbing over your slit, left and right, only using two fingers, but moving them faster and faster. Just until he feels you stop pulsing with aftershocks from your orgasm and places his tip against you once again before finally slamming himself forward, giving you that rough first thrust which has you letting out a surprised yelp and a pleasured scream.

“YES! FUCK H!” you scream and pant, H never letting his pace or force falter. A quick glance to his face shows his gorgeous green irises gone, swallowed by his dark desire, and you know he’s chasing his own orgasm, still paying the slightest bit of attention to you, as he wants you to squirt all over his cock when he comes, he knows exactly how to get you there, and exactly how to time it with him, He knows your body better than he knows where the nearest Gucci store is. Better than he knows even his own fucking body. He can play yours like a fine tuned guitar, which string to pluck, when and where to strum, and what to press on when. So even though 99% of him is a primal, savage beast right now, there is always part of him focused completely on you. And when he slides against that spongey part inside you, over and over again, you know you’re done for, you know what’s going to happen, and he knows it too, knowing what he can do to you, how well he can play your body has his balls tightening, ready to explode, his thrusts falling out of rhythm, his movements becoming sloppier and more erratic, and as soon he feels that first bit of release, he pinches your clit again and takes you over with him. Gushing all over his cock, all over the counter and floor, turning the once clean kitchen into a sticky sexy mess. When you’ve both emerged from your orgasmic hazes, he can’t help but laugh and lick you clean as best as he can before grabbing a towel and helping you off the counter.

“Oopsies.” You say with your most innocent smile, which has him laughing again and the sound of his laughter is so contagious you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Don’t You Know That I Am Right Here”

After recleaning the entire kitchen(a deep, deep clean), changing out of your sticky clothes, and one last kiss, you and H actually get to work prepping dinner, he starts on the garlic bread, while you make the strawberry gelato so it can get into the freezer in time. Then you shift your focus to the alfredo sauce, and the baked chicken seasoned only with salt, pepper, a bit garlic, and a hint of onion.

When H finishes the garlic bread and gets it into the proofing drawer in your kitchen, he goes to town on the pasta. The two of you ended up deciding on linguine rather than fettuccine, you just like the way it cooks a little bit better. When the pasta is ready to cook he pulls the cheesy meatballs you prepped the previous day out of the fridge and rolls them in the seasoning you use, so they are ready for you to pan fry. Finally he turns his attention to hunting down some limoncello and one of his italian red wines that he thinks your mother will like. In addition to the sparkling white grape juice the two of you picked out for your half-brother.

With Loves

-Ava

16 notes · View notes

katcadecascade · 5 months ago

Text

If you believe the lies I tell (Snowjanus Fic: Chapter 14)

Ao3

Tumblr Chapter Index

Chapter Fourteen: Baking Lessons

Word Count: 5,702

As stupid as this all is, Coriolanus isn’t one to throw away a commitment.

Even if that means spending his weekend morning walking to Plinth Manor. He could easily convince himself to not do this. Never before this whole ordeal would Coriolanus Snow willingly spend time with Sejanus Plinth, for a baking lesson no less.

But he can’t unhear Persephone’s story.

How food matters.

Coriolanus had just assumed that Sejanus was careless with his food as with his kindness. He needs to know how food matters to someone who has never suffered starvation at the level Coriolansu has.

Because if Coriolanus sees it with his own eyes then maybe… then maybe he’ll understand. His perception of scents has certainly changed. Maybe his perception of food can change as well.

Then there was the issue of his numb feeling. It lessened at the thought of Sejanus, much to Coriolanus’ dismay but he powers through it.

He decided to trust his instincts after all.

So Coriolanus knocks on the door.

He half expected to be led in by the house staff, no small talk to make, no impressions to be made but no.

Ma Plinth greets him with a wide smile.

Coriolanus Snow had the displeasure of meeting a handful of his classmates’ parents. All rich in politics and wealth that he’s jealous of. Mild mannered or over confident, the elites of the Capitol uphold this powerful dignity through stoicism and high horses.

All of whom pale in comparison to the sunshine that is Ma Plinth.

“Hello, Coriolanus, yes? Come in, I have heard so much about you from my boy.”

Normally a line like that would send panic down his back. Especially since he isn’t exactly dressed to impress. His school uniform is the cleanest outfit in his closet and the next best thing is plain slacks and a brown button up that Tigris tailored. Nothing too fancy since Coriolanus has the strange feeling that he doesn’t need a mask around Sejanus. That doesn’t change his habit to act cordially with his mother though.

She eagerly holds Coriolanus by his elbow, leading him into the warm manor.

Overwhelmed by so much enthusiasm and kindness, Coriolanus’ trained politeness almost falters.

“Mrs. Plinth, thank you for letting me in. Your home is lovely and…” He trails off, confused by how the older lady’s smile wobbles. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh! I’m quite fine, dear, more than that!”

Her eyes are the same shade of Sejanus but with a wonderment that must inspire artists. Ma Plinth tries to calm herself but her hand trembles a little on his arm. Coriolanus places his own on her, unsurprised that his fingers are cold while hers are warm. He imagines that this is something Tigris would do, some act of comfort since he can’t pry her off.

“I truly hope I’m not intruding,” Coriolanus says, unsure if this is a lie. He just wants her to stop looking at him with such big, wet eyes.

Her smile though, it’s not off putting.

In a smaller tone, Ma shakes her head, “Never, dear.”

It’s a mother’s promise.

Caught up in such a description, an experience that Coriolanus barely recalls, neither of them notice Sejanus finally entering the foyer. He’s dressed casually and comfortably in a white crewneck, but the pastel pink apron is oddly endearing.

“Ma?” Sejanus gives Coriolanus a questioning glance to which he shrugs. He gives his full attention to his mother. “Ma, I told you-”

“Yes, you told me all about this wonderful young man here.”

She gives Coriolanus’ arm one last squeeze before letting go in favor of her son’s cheek, pinching it tight.

“Ma!”

Despite the childish act, Sejanus doesn’t bother to bat or flinch away, just accepting his fate.

Coriolanus couldn’t help but snort.

“Fine, I’ll let you boys go.” To Coriolanus she assures, “If you need anything, I’m just in the study, okay?”

He gives her a polite smile and nod but once she turns her back, Coriolanus gives Sejanus an exasperated scowl.

Whispering as harshly as he can, Corilanus asks, “Why'd your mom look like she was about to cry?”

For a split second, it looks like Sejanus was gonna lie.

He can’t meet Coriolanus’ eyes, chewing on his bottom lip, as he leads Coriolanus further into the house.

“Sorry, it's nothing. Well I mean it’s not a big deal here but for her and I guess for me, huh, but really it’s just this thing-”

“You’re rambling.”

Sejanus turns his head away but Coriolanus catches the blush. “Baking lessons are a serious courting ritual back in Two.”

“Oh.”

“Like something about asking the omega for a lesson and it being a lesson about trust and-”

“I said oh,” Coriolanus grits his teeth. “That didn’t mean I wanted to hear more.”

If anything, Coriolanus would’ve accepted a lie.

Sejanus sighs, “I’m just explaining that I’ll have to make sure my Ma doesn’t get her hopes up. I think she really likes you.”

“What’s there to like?”

Sejanus doesn’t grace him with an answer. Yet Coriolanus catches a glimpse of a smile. It’s gone before he could understand the look in Sejanus’ eyes, not that Coriolanus would solve that puzzle.

Twice now did Ma Plinth say that Sejanus talked about him. Such a nightmare of a thought is pushed to the farthest point of Coriolanus’ mind. Whatever second hand account information Ma now has made her too optimistic for her own good. Then again Coriolanus can barely stomach the thought of Sejanus describing Coriolanus as anything but the future president.

No, Coriolanus fears what sentimental monster Sejanus sees him as.

Coriolanus has the faintest thought of how his own mother might react to Sejanus Plinth.

He dismisses the idea. It’s a nonsensical fantasy.

Yet uncanningly certain that Helena Snow would adore anyone who bakes.

Entering the kitchen is like walking through a picturesque painting of an interior design advertisement. A large island in the center with the finest kitchen equipment of the century. On the other side is the quaint little table that’s already prepared with plates, cutlery, and bowls of diced fruit.

“Let’s eat first.”

“I thought I’m here to bake.”

Sejanus shakes his head, “I’m not letting you bake with an empty stomach.”

“You are aware that Clemensia stocked my kitchen. We’re making use of it, trust me.”

Or at least Tigris is. Coriolanus still doesn’t know what to do with all the food.

“Trust you?” He asks slowly, “On taking care of yourself?”

Coriolanus deadpanned, “Sejanus, your sarcasm cuts me deep.”

“You’ve survived much worse from me.”

“True.”

It’s probably best that the Snows aren’t being overly zealous with their food. For one thing, Coriolanus has the urge to hoard it all, make sure that it lasts for months. He can’t take it if Clemensia continuously supplies him with food. Another thing is the fact that neither Coriolanus or Tigris could stomach large meals anymore. Too much weight upon their weak stomachs.

Coriolanus easily remembers the times he carelessly ate more food that he could handle at school galas or classmates’ parties. Clemensia would find him puking, thinking him lightweight and not malnourished.

So Coriolanus takes his time eating the fruit Sejanus prepared. Cubed melons and sliced apples all translate into money in his eyes.

Each fruit represents how better off the Plinths are. It tastes as sweet as he fears, it makes him hate this family a little bit more.

No, if he’s being completely honest it’s only envy.

He owes Sejanus the chance to dissuade his hatred for the District.

As glamorous as a high modeled house can be, clearly Ma Plinth did her best to bring Two here.

Decorations of pottery line the windows, a little misshapen with lackluster paint. He spies a crude signature of Sejanus’ name on one of the vases. The flowers they hold are nearing bloom. Coriolanus is half impressed by the care, tempted to reach out a touch the tiny stems.

Everything about this house is earthy and beloved.

It’s the opposite of Coriolanus’ own house, bone thin and cold.

Getting out of his thoughts, Coriolanus barely catches Sejanus talking.

“So Percy’s birthday is coming up right? Well she wanted to throw her own party before it. Just something for the class before any of our parents could get involved.”

It’s no secret that the Plinths are only invited as a courtesy. Their money has made them quite hard to ignore.

“She asked you to bake for her party? That isn’t an invitation, that is just catering.”

Sejanus doesn’t take it as an insult of course, smiling a little too eagerly. “It’s the first time I’m actually invited to something without my father’s money being the reason. I want to do this for Persephone.”

“And I’m here because?”

“This is your baking lesson. Also I can test some recipes too. I know the cake will be a centerpiece but I still have to make more.”

The few things Sejanus had in mind were cookies, shortbread, cupcakes and a bunch of other pastries Coriolanus is unfamiliar with.

All those things and more will impress the sweet tooth of Persephone Price.

Thankfully they’re starting with just cupcakes.

Eventually, he gives Coriolanus a blue apron. It definitely makes Coriolanus feel weird now that he’s matching Sejanus but it’s for baking he supposes.

This should be fairly easy.

When they begin the baking lesson, Coriolanus is proven so wrong.

Oh how to describe the beginning of their downfall?

Too much flour and broken eggshells, that’s for certain.

Look, Coriolanus knows the basics- the bare minimum, of cooking. Baking should be just as simple right?

Wrong.

“What do you mean by separating the egg? It’s an egg and its shell.”

“No you gotta separate the yolk and the egg whites.”

Coriolanus eyes the bowl where he deposited the egg. “I am not touching it.”

“Why not? Too sticky for you?”

“...yes.” Sejanus begins to laugh. “Don’t laugh!”

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect you and Festus to be on the same level.”

“Plinth, don’t you ever compare me to Festus Creed.”

“Hey, I told you, he was terrible at making croissants.”

For a split second, Coriolanus misheard Sejanus saying that patisserie’s name in a horrid accent. Thankfully he did not.

“Just show me how you do it.”

Sejanus carefully breaks an egg, making sure the yolk stays in one shell before slowly pouring it into the other cracked shell. It’s time consuming but the egg whites fall away into a bowl.

Coriolanus’ attempt at this is unpracticed and messy, breaking the yolk all over his fingers.

A small voice in his head despairs at wasting food, how his mistakes cannot be salvageable. But that’s not the point of this.

Sejanus has all the food and money for these simple mistakes. This is a luxury he’s sharing with Coriolanus. It’s the chance to not be paranoid or frustrated about food.

As Sejanus begins to whisk up the whites with some dry ingredients, he asks, “What are you able to cook anyway?”

“Cabbage soup.”

“Anything else?”

Coriolanus takes his time on kneading dough that’s been prepped. Hesitation catches his tongue but he ignores it.

“Vegetable soup.”

“Is the vegetable also cabbage?”

“...yes.”

“You could add other meats and vegetables. It could add a lot of flavor.”

It’s a simple idea really, if not for the fact that it’s hard to acquire perishables like meat and vegetables.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters. “What do you need egg whites for?”

“It’s for frosting and meringue.”

“Mer-what?”

It proceeds much like this.

Sejanus gave him simple instructions on making cupcake batter. While the technical stuff is easy to follow, mixing the dry ingredients with the dry and the wet with the wet, there’s still room for human error.

“It’s a teaspoon of vanilla.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m measuring.”

“You’re using a tablespoon, Coryo.”

“...none of these are labeled.”

In Coriolanus’ defense, the measuring tools do not have any engraving or marking to indicate its measuring size. They probably originated from the Districts by how the metal is worn down. Either way, Sejanus knows this kitchen by heart.

More than once Coriolanus gets distracted by watching Sejanus bake.

It’s the most at ease he’s ever seen the alpha be.

No impulsive arguing and clashing heads. No uncomfortably being stuck in a crowd. No performing at all.

More than food, this is something Coriolanus covetes for.

The plan is to pipe different flavors of cream into the cupcakes. They continue on with baking, kneading the vanilla dough. It’s a simple base that any amateur can understand.

“It’s not like we’re making a basque cake.” Sejanus had grimaced.

The way Sejanus said that worries Coriolanus. As if that is its own horror story for another day.

Once all the dough is piped into the cupcake trays, they move onto the frosting.

Coriolanus does not understand the science of baking honestly. Any technical part of it is already manufactured by the market to produce frosting in a multitude of flavors.

Here though, Sejanus already has small vials of liquidated fruit prepared for this.

“So this is juice,” Coriolanus stated.

“No, not really,” the expert explained. “It’s more concentrated, almost molasses if hardened. Ma makes this all the time for her projects.”

He blinks at Sejanus, “So this is juice.”

“...just add a teaspoon into the mixture.”

“I’m just making an opinion.”

“Yes and using a tablespoon again is also an opinion.”

Coriolanus does not break his glare as he picks up the correct measuring spoon.

They finished one batch with six different flavors, left in the oven. Now the boys are left with their thoughts.

Did Coriolanus Snow actually learn anything about baking?

Maybe.

Does he now like it?

A bit, admittedly.

Was it all worth it?

Well that is to be proven by Sejanus’ own questioning.

“Hey, Coryo?” He sets the leftover bowl and whisk down in the sink, the sweet sugary smell not reflecting the serious face on Sejanus. “Why did you want baking lessons?”

Coriolanus remembers the bread rolls that started this all.

He told Tigris that he wanted it to mean nothing.

The handkerchief that held the bread and Sejanus’ scent is still in his room.

Coriolanus can no longer admit that it means nothing.

“I needed to know what this all meant to you.”

“You mean baking or food?”

“Food.”

“Huh,” Sejanus lets the word roll off his tongue, considering this seriously, “I guess it means everything to me. It’s a comfort, mostly. I bake to feel closer to my Ma and to avoid my father.”

Sejanus never referred to his father in a loving endearment like his mother, Coriolauns belatedly thinks. Somehow this makes Coriolanus believe Sejanus more.

“Food though, I never really thought about it outside of baking and cooking. I see it all as a way to give. Food is something to be shared. Food is…”

Important.

He can see that word about to be pronounced but there’s a flash of recognition in Sejanus’ brown eyes. Coriolanus always deemed them as too insightful. He was counting on it.

“Coriolanus, I could go on about how much I love food but what do you need to be sure of?”

The blond plays with the frosting on his fingertips. It’d be common manners to just whip it off on a cloth but there’s the temptation of just licking it away, to savor any food in his eyesight.

“You, Sejanus, you,” he bites his lip, hating how he’s fumbling, “I savored every chance I could get food. It was so hard to get it. Then at school? Everyone was normal, like nothing bad ever happened, like no one else was starving.”

Coriolanus knows he’s borrowing Persephone’s words and honestly he needs to. It’s hard to narrate his own trauma and troubles. Persephone must have thought too much about her own story and was strong enough to verbalize it.

Here and now, Coriolanus doesn’t see his own words as strength.

Yet it doesn’t feel weak if it’s Sejanus listening.

“When you started giving me food, how could I refuse? At the same time, I just couldn’t see it as anything else but a trap.”

He recalls what Sejanus claimed, that he cares too much to ever imagine hurting Coriolanus.

Again, Sejanus proclaims, “I wouldn’t take advantage of you, Coriolanus, please believe me.”

The scary part is, Coriolanus can believe him.

It’s easier to pretend that he’s in denial, that Coriolanus Snow is not struggling under the weight of his heart. These feeble emotions and instincts that work against him due to the simple fact that he wishes to ignore it.

Then out of the blue, Sejanus said, “I did have a small crush on you.”

Coriolanus barely recognizes his own voice. It’s spoken by someone nervous, unprepared but hopeful, “You did?”

“Yeah and I got my heart broken. Kinda glad I wasn’t the only one.” The laugh that escapes Sejanus makes it clear that he’s embarrassed, humiliated maybe.

“Oh, right,” Coriolanus scowls at the thought of anyone trying to court him, “I never paid much attention to scents.”

“Yeah I figured that out early on.”

Something about that wording irks Coriolanus. He has to know, he has to confirm this.

“Do you still have that crush?”

He’s quiet for a moment before a mumbled but genuine realization, “I’m not sure.”

It’s not a reassuring answer. It unsettles something in Coriolanus’ core. Not either his heart or his brain, but something that is the foundation of his person. He hates why Sejanus affects him so much.

In his mini-panic, Sejanus continues.

“I thought you were nice. I realized I’m wrong now, but you were before. I mean, you told me you wore a mask so I’m not sure what was a lie though.”

It’s hard for Coriolanus to know either. He had told so many lies throughout his life. He had needed those lies.

But Coriolanus doesn’t need lies right now.

“But why’d you give me food?” He asks, trying to shift the conversation with his prying.

“I guess I’m too nice for my own good and I trust you more than anyone else.”

Completely lost, Coriolanus begs the question, “Why?”

“Because I thought you needed help, that you could accept it. Also I thought that one act of kindness will matter. I still do, but…”

“But being nice isn’t worth it.”

Being honest and kind hasn’t brought Sejanus Plinth anything but problems and Coriolanus Snow.

It would be only a matter of time when Sejanus gives up on Coriolanus, the grains of sand falling.

He’s already losing Sejanus.

Maybe he was never Coriolanus’ to begin with.

The cold ache returns, that numbing feeling at his core as he recalls, “I asked you before, if I matter to you, Sejanus. You didn’t sound happy.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

In real time it was only maybe five seconds of Coriolanus genuinely believing that this is it.

This is the moment Sejanus will admit that Coriolanus Snow is not worth any of this effort.

Instead Sejanus merely looks confused.

“Happy? I wasn’t concerned about happiness at the time.” He shrugged. “I only thought of you and how you didn’t initially want me for your heat. You even told me you’d hate me more if I helped you.” Sejanus drags his eyes over to the messy kitchen island, to the oven, then finally to him. “Coriolanus, I’m still helping you but I don’t know if I’m hurting you unless you tell me.”

This somehow confuses Coriolanus even further.

He spats out, “Tell you? Why? Do you need permission to leave me?”

“No, I just know you’ll tell me the truth.” Sejanus offers up his hand, awaiting and putting him to the omega’s mercy. “So do you still hate me? Please, tell me, Coriolannus Snow.”

For the first time, Coriolanus believes that this is genuine pain for Sejanus.

Perhaps Sejanus Plinth is too kind for his own good. Someone who gives without the desire of ever taking. It’s a dangerous notion, a devotion that will starve him of knowing anything else but giving.

At the opposite end, there is Coriolanus with the danger of always consuming.

Maybe this is why a part of Coriolanus decided on Sejanus. Seeing someone equally in a specific torment of the mind and instincts.

Disgust is Coriolanus’ instinct reaction, slapping away Sejanus’ outstretched hand.

“You shouldn’t have never given me food. You should just hate me like everyone else in this damn city.”

“I wouldn’t let you starve.”

Coriolanus has the suspicion that this is something they could talk circle in. His mind is already thinking of thousands of arguments that may end in violence or worse.

But that is in a hypothetical world where he wants to continue arguing.

The reality of this world is that Coriolanus is an omega.

Omegas innately know who to trust and who to seek comfort and safety with.

The former numbness that bewildered and frazzled Coriolanus is gone. Just the idea of this ridiculous baking lesson kept most of the numbness away. Right now, any cold ache is thawed with Sejanus’ scent.

Once again, all Coriolanus can scent is warm nutmeg, spiced with other sweetness.

Before snow lands, it’s in free fall.

Doomed by gravity, hoping to be caught.

Coriolanus Snow lets himself fall into the embrace of Sejanus Plinth.

“Not again,” Coriolanus complained into Sejanus’ shoulder.

Fixing his grip on him, Sejanus said, “I thought you said you’re fine. This doesn’t smell like a heat. You’re not even scenting anything.”

“...Huh?”

“Your scent. I can’t find it.”

That should be normal if he had taken scent blockers but he hasn’t taken any since before his first heat. Scentless, the very thing Coriolanus had once wished upon the world, now makes things feel uncanny.

Like a vital part of himself is missing.

Any of his alarm and panic is not broadcasted at all. A disconnect to a communication that Coriolanus’ instincts scream for. A songbird lost in a blizzard, all alone and unheard.

He tightens his hold on Sejanus.

“I’m not fine,” Coriolanus grits out of his teeth. “I just wanted to feel normal again but now, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about this crap because I didn’t want to know before.”

He stops himself from spilling more of his weaknesses, even though he knows that Sejanus would never use them against him.

It’s unbearable that Coriolanus Snow knows that he can trust Sejanus Plinth.

What’s worse is Sejanus’ need to verbalize it.

“Do you trust me?”

With a bitter laugh, Coriolanus does not hesitate to admit it.

“Yes.”

The food is forgotten in the kitchen, a mess of sugar and crumbs.

Sejanus walks Coriolanus up a grand staircase, passing portraits of a family left behind in District Two. Echoes of the past, those who sacrificed for this family honored by paints and wooden frames.

It’s so full in this manor, no empty spaces or unforgettable faces. This is what the Snows’ penthouse should be like, should have been like.

Coriolanus fails to tamper down his envy and jealousy. It’s too familiar of a mind state to move away from. On the outside, Sejanus has wealth like every other person in the Capitol. On the inside, Coriolanus knows better.

They finally get to Sejanus’ room.

It’s soaked in his scent, warm nutmeg. It instantly fills up the empty space inside of Coriolanus. In place of his own scent, his instincts welcome this one.

Too attached, dependent even. More and more of Coriolanus Snow is possessive of every part of Sejanus Plinth.

They pass tall bookshelves chocked full with the occasional wooden sculpture or potted plant. Even the desk at the other corner of the room has a stack of books, an organized mess that fits perfectly in Sejanus’ world.

It feels too intimate when Coriolanus realizes he’s likely the first and only person to ever be invited into this space. This feeling worsens as they reach the bed.

A simple full sized bed in a wooden frame is a stuffed turkey compared to the barebone squeaky metal shell that holds Coriolanus’ thin mattress. It’s all a childish reaction for Coriolanus to run his hands through the furred throw cover.

What comes next isn’t instincts to blame.

Coriolanus chooses to take what is being gifted to him.

He crawls to the center of the bed, kneading the blankets and moving pillows to better fit this nest. Coriolanus doesn’t go under the covers, that’s just a step too far in his opinion. It would be too much for his sanity to comprehend that in a matter of weeks, this is where their relationship evolved to.

From leftover bread to homemade cupcakes, Coriolanus never saw this coming.

Some part of Coriolanus has decided on Sejanus Plinth.

His kindness damned him, and set him on a course where Coriolanus is at the end.

Only a coward wouldn’t take the next step.

He reaches for Sejanus’ hand and pulls him close.

They're still in their aprons, stained with sugar, an insignificant detail that might ruin this imagery but it doesn’t. It may be all an impulsive decision but Coriolanus pushes away his doubts and regrets.

It’s still in his head.

Never truly gone, but away.

Winter always returns but for now, Coriolanus is far from cold.

Just as easy it was during his heat, the two of them lay in each others’ arms. Coriolanus burying his head into the crook of Sejanus’ neck. Intimacy like this is only reserved for those emotional peaks in Coriolanus’ life but this doesn’t feel intense.

It feels like true comfort.

Yet Coriolanus can’t make himself thank Sejanus.

So instead he tells him this.

“You just had to give me a token.”

“Token?” He parrotted. “You mean my handkerchief?”

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, not that Sejanus could see. Yet his exasperation is evident in his voice. “You scented it and gave it to me. That’s the literal definition of a token.”

“I didn’t intend that. It’s just my handkerchief, of course it’ll have my scent.” He said casually.

A little too casual actually. As if the basic notion of traditional gift giving wasn’t even in Sejanus’ mind.

Something clicked in Coriolanus’s brain.

He removes himself from Sejanus’ shoulder, needing to see his face.

“Sejanus, do you use scent blockers?”

“Well, not the pills. I use the soap version but only at my father’s events.”

Unbelievable.

This ridiculous boy.

It’s probably not as big of a deal that Coriolanus is making it out to be. There was a period of time where the Capitol didn’t heavily propagandize scent blockers, their society didn’t truly need it. Yet the concept slips past all of Coriolanus’ concerns.

Controlling and containing a scent is about willpower, at least the confidence to do so.

What does that mean about Coriolanus’ constant reliance on it?

He tries to deflect from his thoughts, “You don’t have trouble… Wait, you didn’t mean to give me a token for my nest?”

“I was more focused on giving you the bread, Coryo.”

At the reminder of how it all began, something terrible flares up in Coriolanus.

“You are truly a horrible alpha.”

Not offended but amused, Sejanus asks, “How so?”

“You’re pathetic, just following anyone who gives you affection. It’s pitiful, really, that you put so much effort and attention on me that you’re not your own person. Just what were you thinking, Sejanus Plinth?”

All the horrible words flow too easily out of Coriolanus. This unjustified need to put Sejanus down to make himself feel superior.

Instead Coriolanus just feels worse.

The more he understands Sejanus, the more Coriolanus feels more fowl about himself.

Yet if he knows Sejanus like he believes he does, the alpha will surprise him.

There’s a tense glaze mirrored in each other’s eyes. Both confronting truths that have been kept for a long time.

Sejanus takes a moment to unlock his jaw, “I was thinking that this is your last chance before I completely gave up my crush on you.”

Something drops in Coriolanus’ stomach, an uncomfortable shock that puts him in stasis.

“You’re right, I am pathetic,” he continues. “I liked having your attention. I liked learning more about you and who you really are because I thought you were beginning to trust me. I liked… I like you, Coryo.”

It’s too much to simplify all of Coriolanus’ flaws and strengths into one idea.

That Sejanus likes Coriolanus.

That this is Coriolanus’ last chance to lose Sejanus’ heart.

His own is thumping, from a slow pace then into something wild.

“You could’ve given up on me. When I forced you away from school or that morning you gave me breakfast.” His mouth is clammy, tongue heavy. His throat dries as if trying to sabotage himself from saying what needs to be said. “Sejanus, I gave you so many reasons to hate me.”

Sejanus merely shakes his head. “I could hate you. I was hurt when you pushed me away but I wasn’t the only one. Clemensia is your best friend and you tried to turn her away. Now that you finally let us in, you still want us out. Why?”

Coriolanus’ answer is that he doesn’t trust them. That he can’t trust anyone with the potential to backstab him. A false hope is the easiest answer but there’s a sadder truth.

“I don’t want to have something just to lose it.”

The air around them, the scent that belongs to Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus compares it to a love letter. So encompassing and warm, intimate without fear. Innately a safe place.

So of course it’s where his own scent comes crashing down.

The opposite of a love letter, a battle cry of his emotions.

All the bottled up stress and resentment and fear. Too sharp on the synapses, too cold on the skin.

Sejanus has a physical reaction to the sudden bout of spearmint air exploding. A shiver at the coldness, but the astonishment in his brown eyes has Coriolanus embarrassed, like his emotions are foolish. He quickly turns away, letting his back face Sejanus. Coriolanus presses a cold hand to his cheeks, humiliatingly warm.

After thinking deeply, Sejanus finally breaks the silence with a sigh.

“Please look at me.”

Testing Sejanus’ patience, Coriolanus abides until after his own patience ran out.

He turns over, once again face to face with his greatest adversary.

A ridiculous notion since he would never share breathing room with anyone else.

Sejanus merely greets him with a small smile. “Coryo, you’re so full of distrust yet you still reach out. You wouldn’t have me in your nest if you didn’t trust me. I have to hope that it means something.”

On some deeper level of Coriolanus’ worldview, letting in anyone see him like this is dangerous.

Not with Sejanus.

Too pure hearted and too doomed to emotions.

Sejanus told himself that this is Coriolanus’ last chance.

How long has Sejanus had this crush?

How many chances did he give to ignorant Coriolannus Snow?

All signs dictate Sejanus Plinth as patient or delusional. He kept waiting on Coriolanus, kept being so painfully kind.

So much tortuous devotion does something to Coriolanus.

“What it means is that I cannot get rid of you. That I don’t want to get rid of you anymore,” Coriolanus admits. “You ruined me, Sejanus Plinth. It’s only fair that I ruin you as well.”

If it was one-sided, then it’s just a Greek tragedy.

Instead they’re both locked into this pit.

Both have fallen and will not leave the other behind.

A possession that goes beyond physicality. To become the focal point of a person’s mind is an intimacy Coriolanus never dared imagine. Seeking the presence, the scent, the attention of someone to the point where there is no loneliness.

Only them.

“Coriolanus, you’ve already ruined me. I fear I won’t look at anyone like I look at you.”

The idea of Sejanus ever having such a relationship with anyone else is a newfound nightmare. At the same time, Coriolanus dreads ever developing intense feelings for anyone else.

“Promise?”

“I promise and more.”

More.

A gluttonous and greedy word.

It’s never good to tempt such a thing before Coriolaus Snow.

“Kiss me.”

It’s spoken as a demand but in this world of give and take, this is merely an offering.

This is Coriolanus being upfront at their table. Sejanus always responded better with verbal cues.

There’s no hesitation, surprisingly, as Sejanus brushes their lips together. Gentle and safe for the first second before Sejanus becomes bolder.

A strong hand pulls at Coriolanus’ side, guiding him to lay on over Sejanus. There’s a desperate pant of air between their lips when they shifted, but Coriolanus leans in again.

Romantic and intimate are foreign concepts for Coriolanus, but he imagines it would be like this. The lack of pressure, the control of the kiss, this is what eases Coriolanus into enjoying it.

Yet the constant grip Sejanus has on him, it’s what makes Coriolanus believe that Sejanus enjoys it too. That in a way Sejanus is learning to be possessive of Coriolanus.

His thumb presses against a soft spot on Sejanus’ neck. Coriolanus feels the shuddered breathing in Sejanus’ whole body as he rubs circles at the scent gland. It enriches the air. Coriolanus’ scent loses its chill, the sharpness of mint blunted by soft nutmeg.

It’s a proper nest now that their scents overlap, protecting each other.

Sejanus drags his lips away, seeking out his pale cheek then the corner of his eye before carefully rolling them onto their sides. From there, Sejanus dips his head down, pressing his lips at the base of Coriolanus’ neck.

A devoted act from an alpha, a sign of worship. Sejanus did this once before if Coriolanus remembers correctly.

Coriolanus sinks his head into the pillow, biting his lips at whatever noise dares leaves him. Yet he knows he is caught by the sound of Sejanus’ appreciating humm.

This is the epitome of dynamics.

An alpha listens to the omega.

Coriolanus has a feeling that Sejanus won’t give up on his crush anymore.

Thanks for reading!

#my fic #snowjanus fic #snowjanus #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth

2 notes · View notes

misspearly1 · 2 years ago

Text

Chp1 || Chp2 || Chp3 || Chp4 || Chp5 || Chp6 || Chp7 || Chp8 || Chp9

Pairing: Werewolf!Joel Miller x You (F!Reader)

Summary: Looking back on how your life has turned out this far, you often wonder if you got more than you bargained for when finally finding your safe haven within the walls of Jackson. They have it all; food, shelter and electricity, but what else did you come to discover that lives within this thriving community? And how did that discovery change your life?

WC: 6.4k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Enemies to lovers. Little bit of the love triangle trope between Joel, Reader and Jake. Even more sexual tension between Joel and Reader. Mentions of wet dreams. This chapter has an angsty ending. Mentions & descriptions of a panic attack.

AN: Oh wow, okay. I am loving the way I took this chapter myself. A little bit of a rollercoaster with emotions, but I promise it will all come together nicely. Alsooo, I hope you like that ending ;), I can't wait for the next chapter! Enjoy my loves.

Holding your trembling hands over the indentation of snow in your backyard, you shake your head with disbelief. What the hell… it was here?

You trace your fingers around the shape with widened eyes. The werewolf was here. You’ve had a personal visit at some point during the night, the evidence of the fact couldn’t be more clear. Angrily swiping it away, you stood from the floor and quickly exited the back gate of your yard. You’re late for work and it’s only your second day, but a home visit from the werewolf isn’t going to stop your investigations. Especially not when Joel orchestrated this. You just know that it’s him behind this little tactic. He said that he can’t convince you to let this go, so he tasks the wolf to frighten you into letting it go instead. When will Joel learn that you won’t be terrorized into keeping quiet?

Huffing with annoyance, you tried not to let it bother you too much and hastily made your way to work. Melinda needs your help with prepping breakfast and you don’t want to let her down. It’s too early in the morning to be thinking about Joel Miller and the werewolf anyway, you had your fill of thinking about them last night while working.

Just shrug it off, Y/N. Today is a new day!

Hugging your jacket as you rush along the dark streets of Jackson, the winter mornings were getting colder and you couldn’t wait to be inside the kitchen where it will most definitely be warm. Though, I think I’ll regret it in the summertime. You snicker to yourself with that thought, then wonder if you would even still be working there next year.

Excluding the cons of working last night, you really enjoyed all of the pros. Melinda, Jack and Tracy are great company to have working alongside you, the food and drinks are a delightful perk, and the experience of working with the residents isn’t all that bad, misusing the whole deal with the Millers and Eugene of course, but everyone else is wonderful. You wouldn’t oppose the idea of working here long-term.

Maybe it’s meant to be.

Turning the corner to main street, you hurried toward the warm glow of light slipping out of the restaurant windows with the smell of food already pungent in the air, it was smoky with hints of salt. Bacon!

Mouth salivating with the smell, you looked forward to a portion of breakfast for yourself before serving the residents of Jackson and pushed through the front door eagerly. Wiping your snow clad boots across the bristles on the welcome mat, you preen at the sound of Melinda's warm voice greeting you. “Good morning, my dear.”

“Morning, Mel. How are you?” You ask before walking across the floor and joining her at a table. She had a set of teacups sitting on the tabletop beside a steaming teapot, baby blue coloured embellished with white polka dots. It was pretty, and it smelled heavenly too as delicately floral and citrus scented aroma entered your nostrils. It was hot lemon tea; a nice and sweet beverage to sip on during a cold winter morning.

“I’m well, love. Thank you.” Melinda smiles. Leaning forward into her chair, she reaches for the teapot. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.” You titter with an eager nod of your head. “Yes please, Melinda.”

Making light conversation with the woman, you each just simply enjoyed the warmth and serenity that comes with a morning cup of tea and a chat before work. You could definitely see yourself working here long-term so long as Melinda is here too.

Clearing up the table and heading into the kitchen to eat some breakfast, you practically swallowed it down before starting to peel the potatoes. You had a long day ahead of you and hoped that it would be as successful as last night towards your investigations.

The more you work here, the better your multitasking skills will improve. Keeping tabs on Joel and Eugene while working as a waitress would either fry your mind or strengthen it. Though, you’d much prefer the latter.

A little while later, Melinda took some of the freshly peeled potatoes and started preparing the hash browns. Once your task is done, your next job is to get all the tables and chairs set up. Tracy and Jack would be showing up shortly; they’re your new work mates, who’ve been here longer than you have and are thrilled to have you onboard.

With your generous offer to come in early and help Melinda today, they were able to get an extra hour's rest in bed. You don’t mind, you also like having an extra hour rest in the mornings, especially during the winter months. Who likes getting out of a warm comfy bed and into the cold anyways?

Soon after Tracy and Jack showed up to work, the residents of Jackson quickly followed with each and everyone of them patiently awaiting their breakfast to be served. Keeping yourself on your toes, you were not so patiently awaiting for Joel or Eugene to arrive. The closer it was nearing lunch, the closer you were to giving up hope that they would ever arrive. Maybe they’re skipping breakfast today?

Sighing with that thought, the sound caught someone's attention and eclited him to ask what’s on your mind. Jake? What is he doing here? “Oh, not much. Just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” You turn to face him.

“All good things, I hope?” The man shoots you a playful wink, sitting himself in your section of tables purposely to see you this morning. Oh… He’s flirting with me. Ok, get your head out of the gutter Y/N. “Yeah, it’s good things on my mind.” You smile, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. The night you shared with him was rather heated and passionate, and you enjoyed every passing minute with Jake rolling around in the sheets. It can’t hurt to pursue something with him, can it?

Memorizing what he wants for breakfast, you notice the way he looks down to your lips multiple times with a smile on his face. It makes you blush and think about what he did last night that made you moan pleasurably, then quickly snap out of it. Clearing your throat, you nod to him and repeat his order. “Milky tea and two eggs over easy with a hash brown. You got it.”

Pulling your gaze away from his enticing smile, you turn on the spot and roll your eyes at the sight of Joel’s smirking smile. He must have come into the restaurant from out of nowhere and he, too, sat in your section of tables. Right beside Jake in fact. “Good morning, sir. What can I get you?” Greeting him with a blank tone, you bit the urge to smirk with the way you addressed him. Using ‘sir’ without an ounce of respect, you could see that Joel picked up on your sarcasm, but he returned the favour by acting all nice and polite. “Morning, sweetheart. I’d like the usual please.”

Before you could even open your mouth to make some snarky reply about what his usual order is, the man held up a finger and tuts. Like you were a fucking child, Joel tuts at you. “Just ask Melinda, she knows what I like for breakfast.”

You hum and walk away before losing the urge to say something. This back and forth squabbling is going to result in you and Joel being at each other's throats before breakfast is even over. Heading into the kitchen and relaying the orders to Melinda, you made your way back out with a pot of tea in one hand and a little cup of milk in the other. Joel’s an idiot if he thinks you're serving him his hot drink first. He can wait.

Back at Jake's table, you were met with another enticing smile and flirtatious remarks while you poured out his drink, and with Joel’s eyes burning two holes into the back of your head. Why are you sitting there! Why not go to Jack's section, or Tracy's?... Oh. Your eyes with realization. You just now realized that there’s a high likelihood he knows about you and Jake last night. If the wolf was there during the same time Jake was, then it would have heard what went down in your bedroom and considering Joel is now sitting right beside Jake, tells you that the wolf had shared all that he learned with him.

Does Joel care? Is that why he’s sitting near Jake? Making your way to the kitchen with those pondering thoughts floating around in your head, you grab the pot of coffee and head back out to serve Joel’s drink. It can’t be a coincidence that he is sitting in your section of tables this morning. Sure, last night was just sheer luck, but today your section has changed and Joel could have chosen anywhere inside the restaurant to park his ass, but he chose to park it on the table right beside Jake.

“What are you playing at?” You mutter under your breath, approaching him reluctantly as he was smirking at you again. A devilish kind of smirk - one that can only mean trouble. Pouring out his coffee and ignoring his smile, disgust furrows your brows when he asks how you slept last night. You tear your gaze away to look at him, but stop yourself from making a mistake as he wasn’t even looking at you.

Eugene was on the next table over and Joel was talking to him, not you. Although, you still think that question was aimed to rile you up, you’re just glad you caught on quickly and didn’t give the reaction he was looking for. Glancing over to Eugene, you stuck to your job role as a waitress and asked if he’d like any coffee as well, which he did and you poured out a cup for him too. Though he didn’t want any breakfast.

You heard him talk about not catching a wink of sleep last night as it was too noisy at the ‘outpost’ and his topic of conversation caught your attention, so you listened as Joel replied, asking him ‘how it is looking out there’. They’re talking about somewhere outside of Jackson, but where? You wonder while walking away. Without a reason to stay anymore, you didn’t want to bring on any suspicion of your eavesdropping, but thankfully there was another resident sitting at a table nearby and you listened as Eugene reported that the snow was getting heavier, but otherwise all quiet. There’s very little infected roaming around.

Taking orders while trying to listen to a conversation was difficult, but you managed to catch them saying something about patrol and library. Maybe there’s a library on one of the patrol routes? Which could also be this outpost that Eugene was referring to? Keeping these questions in mind, you finished taking the residents order and went back to the kitchen to relay it to Melinda again and gather food while you’re there. Jakes and Joel’s breakfast will be done by now.

After serving it up to them both, you couldn’t linger around as more people spilled into the restaurant and you had to keep up with the flow. Tracy and Jack were doing great, you watched as they came in and out of the kitchen frequently, checking up on all of their tables but not too much, while your section was just now starting to get busy. You need to be doing great too. Visiting tables and the kitchen a few times, you came back out to see Jake waving you down. He had finished his food, but rather than just getting up to leave like everyone else does, he wanted to say goodbye first.

“Hey gorgeous, I gotta go to work. Thank you for breakfast.” He stands from his chair, planting a chaste kiss to your cheek, which took you by surprise. The chances of pursuing something with him look promising. “It’s my pleasure. You stay safe out there, ok?” You smile, and with one final wink and an affirmative nod, Jake pulled away to leave, however as you began to clear up the table, you lifted your head and caught him looking back at you, still with a smile on his face. The action makes you blush all over again, but before you could enjoy feeling giddy and desirable any longer, the one and only Joel Miller ruins it.

“Can I get some more coffee?” He asks, actually sounding genuinely polite for once. Turning to face him, you were about to ask Eugene if he’d like another but he wasn’t there anymore. “Sure, I’ll just be a moment.” You say to Joel before heading into the kitchen to grab the coffee pot.

There is only half an hour left before breakfast will be over and you can go home for a little break. Tracy and Jack were going to help Melinda prepare lunch in return for you coming in early this morning, and even though you’d really enjoy a little relaxing time within the comfort of your own home, you figure that the break could be more beneficial towards your investigations by looking at Jacksons notice board. It’s listed with all the patrol routes and who is on them, therefore you might find some answers to those questions you had earlier about the outpost.

Returning to Joel and serving his coffee, you naively hoped that the transaction would be swift but you were mistaken as he chose this moment to talk to you. Unsurprisingly starting the conversation off about Jake. “That guy seems nice. Is he treating you well?”

“Who?” You act coy and shrug. “Oh, you mean Jake? I only just met him yesterday, but yes, he treats me nicely, sir.” Muscles pulling your lips into a thin smile as Joel quirks an eyebrow, he was either intrigued by you addressing him as ‘sir’ for a second time, or intrigued about Jake.

“Ah, that’s good - good to know, darlin’.” Joel lifts his mug to sip the substance obnoxiously loud while maintaining your eye contact. The man was smirking again, you can see the corners of his mouth turned upwards which was simultaneously turning up your confusion as to why he even cares if Jake is treating you well. Oh my God.. Is he jealous?

Holding a hand over your mouth and failing to stop the giggle slipping past your lips, you shook your head as Joel lowered his mug. “What’s so funny?” He smiles, and it catches you off guard. It was genuine. A small toothy grin that deepens the crinkles around eyes, and his eyes were so fucking soft too. They felt warm and enticing to look into you. The way Joel smiles took you by complete utter surprise. Because it’s real and it’s beautiful too.

“Nothing.” Diverting your attention away from his lips, you shook your head at yourself for getting distracted. That smile of his can’t charm me! Stay focused… “Is there anything else I can get for you, Joel?” You ask, and when he mutters a very soft and small ‘no darlin’ in reply, your gaze pauses at the way his lips moved when he used his pet name for you again. The southern drawl rolling off his tongue and dripping right into your ear like sweet honey from one simple word. Snapping out of it with a nod, you walk away into the kitchen again and that was the last you saw of Joel that morning.

And you were thankful for it too because you're having issues with the way your body reacts to his smile. Not long after Joel left for whatever he had to do today, you were ready to take that break and left the restaurant to go straight for the notice board near the school. Reading the board and learning that Eugene patrols the creek trails and ski lodge, with Dina and Bonnie, this is the only lead you have that can suggest where to look for this outpost of his. Maybe Jake might know something about patrols?

Cringing with that question popping into your mind, you should really get to know the man more if he is going to be laying in your bed again. Last night was just a one night stand, but seeing him this morning was surprising - a nice kind of surprise. You had thirty minutes left before getting back to work and took this opportunity to take a walk around Jackson, to really get to know the area that you call home. It’s been over a month now since you arrived and there are still areas that you haven’t visited yet.

Walking past the school window and smiling at the little kids inside listening to their teacher attentively, you carried on down the street and past multiple lovely looking houses on the way. You didn’t realize how big Jackson actually was. There were rows of streets that were busy, and other rows that were dead quiet. Fifty plus families apparently live here in Jackson, but does that include the loners like you? People who are on their own and don’t have any family? It makes you wonder how many residents are actually living here. Last night, it felt like there were nearly a hundred people at the restaurant, but maybe there are more.

Passing through a gated cemetery, you stopped and quickly hid behind a tree when seeing Tommy and Eugene talking outside one of the entrances. Two guys having a conversation in the street isn’t out of the ordinary, but considering they’re suspects of yours and Tommy was actually yelling at Eugene about something, it sparked your interest to listen.

Carefully moving closer without being seen, you managed to reach another tree at a distance where you can just make out what they were talking about. Tommy had stopped yelling now, but he was still talking loudly and he was telling Eugene to back off and let it go. “But Tommy, it’s your brother who you should be telling to back off. Not me.” Says Eugene, to which Tommy replies with a scoff. “Oh I fucking know that. He’s become a real pain in my ass since she arrived.” Are they talking about me? You wonder and then continue to focus on their conversation.

“Who are we spying on?” You jump with fright when someone whispers deeply into your ear. Turning quickly and ready to strike whoever it was, Joel caught your hand before it could land on the side of his face. “Shit, I didn’t mean to…” You panic and begin to apologize, but quickly remember the hate you have for the man and answer his question. “Spying? I’m not spying on anyone. Now give me my hand back.”

“No. You were about to hit me, and I want that apology you didn’t quite finish.” Joel retorts, smirking and still holding your wrist as you try to pull your arm back. His grip was strong, but not painful. “And you were definitely spying on someone, darlin’.”

You make a surprised sound when he leaned in to peep around the tree. Your eyes zeroed in on his chest chair and how his skin is lightly golden in color with a fading summer tan. Jesus, he smells good. Why do you smell so fucking good? Asshole men like you should stink!

Pulling back, but still not letting your wrist go, Joel laid a hand to the bark of the tree above your head and looked down at you with a teasing look on his face. “You know, Maria won’t be too impressed with you spying on her man.”

“Oh, and let me guess. You’re going to have great pleasure telling her about this, and she will have more of a reason to hate me.” Yanking your arm back again, this time Joel let go but his gaze alone was enough to keep you standing where you are. You could have moved away if you wanted to, but weirdly, you didn’t want to. You wanted to hear what he had to say first.

“Maria doesn’t hate you. Hate is a strong word, sweetheart.” Joel mumbles, unblinking as he still looks down into your eyes. It was bizarre how those stupid eyes of his had a hold on you, like you should move away but you didn’t want to. “And I won’t tell her about this if you don’t want me to.” He whispers softly, the sound of it driving you up the wall.

“Why would you do that?” Speaking your inner questions out loud, you already had an idea as to why Joel would do that for you, but you didn’t want to believe it. He’s just trying to woo you over, to make you believe that he can be all sweet and nice. “If you think the way you have been acting today is going to make me forget what an asshole you are, then you’re wrong Joel - I don’t like you.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?” Joel leans in, placing a carefully calculated hand to your hip which sparks a heat in your body. Slipping that hand around to your lower back, he slowly pulls you into him while closing the gap between your face and his. “I think you do like me Y/N, but hate that you do.”

“Joel, let go of me…” A small whisper slips past your lips, lacking the usual assertive tone. It felt so wrong, yet so good at the same time. Good because his hand feels nice against your lower back, warm and firm, keeping you flush against his chest. Good because the hands you have placed to his chest give you a sense of his strength beneath your fingertips. Good because his heart was beating fast, as if he were excited or nervous to hold you in this way when his lips are seconds away from yours while gazing down into your eyes with lust. That felt so good, but it’s wrong because you hate Joel. You’re supposed to hate him and you should hate what he’s doing right now, but instead, you hate yourself for enjoying it.

Tilting away from his kiss, you pushed on his chest and broke free from his entrancing hold on you. He called out for you, but you ignored him. That’s what you should have done to begin with. Wooing you over is just another tactic he is using, it doesn’t mean anything so why are you foolish enough to fall for it?

Getting back to work and feeling disappointed at yourself for getting aroused by him, the rest of your shift breezed over and before you knew it you were walking home, ready to call it a day. After locking your house, taking a quick shower and jumping into bed, you fell asleep but even your dreams were bombarded with the sight of Joel and you woke up on the brink of an orgasm. Trying to sleep after that was a problem as every time you closed your eyes, the one and only Joel Miller was there.

Outside however, was the red-eyed werewolf sitting in your backyard once again.

The Next Day

Mentally preparing yourself for the evening service, you haven’t seen Jake or Joel at all today, but now it seems that the both of them have decided to come into the restaurant quite late for some dinner. Two men are sitting in your section of tables with both of them looking for where you are as you peep out of the kitchen window and you ask yourself - what ever did I do wrong to deserve this?

Heading out there with a brave face after taking too long trying to gather the courage, you walked towards their tables and already faced your first difficulty. Who’s order do you take first? They were both smiling and patiently waiting as you slowly approached. Joel slightly leaned over the table with two arms laid across the top, looking into your eyes in a way that you wished Jake would look at you. He was leaning back into his chair, looking you up and down with his legs spread and a hand held over his crotch.

You want to go to Joel, but you choose the opposite and take Jake's order first and the feeling you had on your back felt terrible. It felt like disappointment, like Joel was disappointed you didn’t choose him. “I’m doing okay.” You answer Jake after he asks how you were doing. “What can I get you for dinner?”

“Just the soup tonight, gorgeous.” Jake looks up at you with a smirk on his lips, but leans in close to whisper. “I’d like to walk you home tonight, if you’re up for it?” Understanding what he was really asking for under that question, yesterday you would have answered with an immediate yes, but today is different. “Um… I’m actually hanging out with a friend tonight. Maybe some other time?” You lie, feeling ashamed at the way Jake's face drops.

“S-sure, of course.” He shakes his head, chuckling nervously. Expressing a smile to him before turning to take Joel’s order, he made it easy on you and how you feel right now by telling you what he wants. “Just a cold sandwich with hot coffee. Thank you, darlin’.” God, why does this suck!

Walking off into the kitchen and grabbing the coffee, you had time to pour Joel’s drink while Melinda took care of the food, but when you came back out with the pot, you saw that Jake wasn’t sitting in his seat anymore. “In the restroom.” Joel shakes his head with another smile after noticing your despair. He remained quiet while you poured out his coffee, but thanked you for a second time when you were finished. This kind and polite Joel is throwing you off and you had to ask. “Why are you so hot and cold with me? You can’t be an asshole to me, then act all nice and sweet, ok? Just pick one and leave me alone.”

Walking away just in time with Jake exiting the restroom, you blew through the doors of the kitchen and placed the pot of coffee down with enough force to catch Melinda’s attention. “Uh-oh. Who’s out there complaining about my food?” She jokes, abandoning her job for a moment to come over at your side, however after looking up through the window, she sighed a little ‘oh’ and squeezed your arm reassuringly. Which confused you a lot more than what Joel is right now, why did she say oh like she understands what’s going on out there? Is it that obvious?

“I remember a time, a long time ago now, where I had more than one man after my heart.” Mel begins with her way of calming you down. She always knows how to say the right things to you as a small smile appears on your lips. “It was fun and I felt like I was something special...” Yeah, I kinda feel like that right now. “...But it was also difficult and very confusing too.” Um-hum. I’m with you there, Mel.

Looking up and meeting her gaze, it was like all of your problems disappeared. She was standing there with open arms, welcoming you in for a hug that you really needed right now. “I feel like my emotions are betraying me.” You mumble into the warmth of her chest. She feels like home. Like the mother you lost to this world. “I know I’ll figure it out eventually, but it’s so damn confusing and I’m doubting myself all the time.”

“I understand, my child.” Mel kisses the top of your head once before breaking off and holding her hands to each side of your face. “The heart whispers certainty, but the mind screams doubt. You just have to find a way to tune out the noise.”

Smiling with that quote from Mel, just hearing her say something like that was reassuring even though it didn’t solve your problem. She, herself, was reassuring you, she’s a good woman and she’s good to you. Mel walks over to her station and grabs two plates of food before bringing them back to you with an order. “Go get 'em, girl. You only have one life, so make the most of it and have fun.”

You take one step out of the kitchen before being halted with surprise and confusion. Neither Joel or Jake could be seen sitting in their seats, and even Mel stepped out of the kitchen door to ask where they went. “Shit. They wouldn’t, would they?” You panic, instantly thinking that they’re outside fighting over you or something, surprise halts your movements for a second time when the lights cut off and an alarm that you’ve never heard before is sounded.

“Oh God, Y/N.” Mel now panics, grabbing both your arms. “Let’s go. We’ve had a perimeter breach.”

What? What does that mean? Unable to even spill the question from your lips, Mel is ushering you and every other remaining resident in the restaurant towards the bar where Seth is already waiting by a trap door leading to the cellar. “Quickly everyone.” He demands, urging people inside before climbing in last and locking the door behind him. That alarm was still going off and it sounded horrifying, like something they would use in a time of war.

Three long and painfully disturbing minutes go by before that alarm is stopped and silence falls over the room. It was spine-chilling. Not knowing who or what has breached the walls, or how many there are, you all waited by a little radio in the corner of the dark room for the all clear signal that didn’t come. What you got instead was gunfire. A thunderstorm of bullets raining down all over Jackson, you could hear some of them ricocheting through the restaurant above and it was torture hiding away, waiting for the storm to pass over.

Earlier thoughts of who or what has breached the walls of Jackson were answered when a group of thumping footsteps ran into the restaurant above you, hollering and cheering over the food they found. It wasn’t infected. It was people, marauders, trespassers. People breached the walls of Jackson, they were the ones waging war on the streets of your home, and they are the reason you are down in this cellar, uselessly fearing for your life amongst your friends and co-workers.

Mel’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you held them, Tracy was crying into Jack's shoulder and Seth held onto a double barrel shotgun with it pointed towards the trap door while another person held their gun towards the kitchen door. The only other way inside the cellar, or out of this cellar, is through the little box window above the sack of potatoes at the back of the room, a place you looked for immediately when you came down here, thinking of an escape route ahead of time. And with these men above you ransacking the restaurant, that escape route looks like it’s going to be used very soon once they see the trap door or kitchen door.

Just as the thought popped into your mind to suggest climbing out of the window before you are found, a commotion upstairs drew everyone's attention to look up and listen. The men were running across the floor yelling about another team needing help. They were leaving, their footsteps were fading and soon you were left with only silence again. That painfully anxious silence remained for thirty long minutes before the radio lit up with an order. “Jackson, this is Maria speaking. Please report to the church. We are safe, the threats have been neutralized, but I repeat, it is urgent that you report to the church. Thank you.”

“Oh shit.” Seth sighs with distress, lowering his head. Everyone in the room lowered their heads, all with a melancholic look on their face. “What’s wrong?” You ask out of misunderstanding. Shouldn’t they be relieved? It’s over. The worst of it is over.

“There are casualties.” Melinda murmurs with tears in her eyes. “And Maria needs to make sure the rest of us are accounted for.”

Now fully understanding why they all had that sort of reaction, you too lowered your head with a subtle nod to Melinda. You wished you never asked. The thought of your own people dying because of the very same men that were above you not so long ago made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t even believe that it had happened to begin with. How did they get past the walls? Who are they?

Walking up the steps of the cellar and into the kitchen, you were met with a disarray of food and equipment all over the floor. They made a mess tearing up the place. The dining floor was just as bad, but out on the streets was the worst. Bullets and blood painted the ground below. It looked like you stepped into the aftermath of a warzone. Walking towards the church and stopping at a group crowded around someone laying on the floor, it wasn’t a resident of Jackson thankfully, but your heart drops when realizing it was bandits - the very same bandits that chased you through the forest.

They were wearing the same clothing and brandishing the same weapons, a long blood covered machete lay beside that man on the floor that people were crowding around. They stopped to gawk at the dead man who terrorized Jackson and you stopped to catch your breath. Your chest felt tight and your head dizzy, however your panic attack was interrupted as someone in that crowd turned to face you with a stabbing comment. “This is all your fault! Joel accuses you of working with the bandits and now this happens?”

“Yeah!” Another bystander joins in, adding to the hysteria. “That can’t be a coincidence. You’re one of them! You brought this to our streets!”

More people joined in to yell how they agreed and it felt like you were being singled out, made to feel small and at fault for this tragedy. Suddenly that panic attack came back tenfold and your ears began to burn with a loud ringing noise penetrating through your mind. You could barely inhale to breath, and exhaling what little breath you could take burned your chest. The sounds of them yelling shrouded you in darkness and blame, so much so that you couldn’t hear anything else.

You couldn’t even hear Maria or Tommy trying to settle them down. You couldn’t see how the leaders of Jackson were defending you, telling the residents that you had nothing to do with this. Hell, you couldn’t hear your co-workers arguing with those people, ready to fight the mob. Melinda included, she was going crazy for you, but you couldn’t see that. All you could see was Jake amongst the small crowd blaming you for this, and Joel standing back with regret and grief torn across his face. That’s all you could focus on; the pain that they’re both causing you.

Taking a few steps forward, you felt like you were tumbling down and pushed through the crowd to make your way home. You didn’t want to be in this situation any longer, it’s excruciating. Joel looks up at you with a hand reaching out, like he fucking cares how you feel right now. He is the one who accused you, it’s his fault people are blaming you right now. “Congratulations” You scowl and purposely bump into his side as you pass. “You got what you wanted, asshole.”

Everyone settled down soon after you left. Maria and Tommy took the residents inside the church to make sure everyone is accounted for and deliver an explanation of what really happened tonight. The bandits followed one of the patrollers home, they breached the walls and attacked when Jackson least expected it. This cleared your name and that small crowd who hounded you felt remorseful for what they did, but it didn’t matter anyways, you weren’t in the church to hear it. The Millers and your co-workers thought about you in the next hour while getting the residents back into their homes and extra security set up along the walls. Tommy thought it would be best that he be the one to tell you that your name is cleared and no one blames you anymore.

However you weren’t home. Your front door was ajar, food in your kitchen was cleared out and clothes in your closet were left on the floor in your bedroom. You weren’t home, you were gone, and Tommy had never felt so fucking angry in his life. Walking out of your house and straight towards his brother, that anger only grew with each step he got closer to reprimanding Joel for the cause of his actions. His actions that made you leave.

Rage is a powerful tool; it can be useful at times, especially when you need it the most, but it can also be blinding. It can blind you so much that you could lose all sense of control and only see red. A blinding fit of rage soaring so high and so strong that not even the ones you love most can bring you back down to earth. Once you reach that certain point of no return, you just pray that no one is standing in your way when the storm passes and you come to.

Tommy fears he is reaching that point as he opens the door to his brother's home. “You goddamn piece of shit!” His voice ripples like thunder. Standing by the doorway, eyes dark and burning with rage, he glides across the space separating him and Joel. “Do you even know what you’ve done!” The man’s breath heaves as he fights the primal urge that was ripping its way out of his body and mind.

Balling his hands into fists and even breaking the surface of his skin to push back that urge to let the beast take over, he shed a drop of blood with droplets of sweat rolling down his temples, but it was of no use. It’s too late. Tommy can feel the rage boiling over the edge. “Y/N’s gone. Are you happy now, Joel? That’s what you wanted right? You goddamn animal!”

The last thing Tommy saw before losing all sense of control was his own brother's eyes glowing two red rings of fire - then, all hell broke loose.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Tagging

Werewolf Joel Miller: @kirsteng42 @marydjarin @extraneous-trip @dins-cyare @supernaturalgirl20 @supernaturalgirl @joelsflannel @luvmeijii @hb8301 @squidwell @superawesomegeek @trickstersp8 @scorpio-marionette

103 notes · View notes

primofate · 3 years ago

Text

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. “No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

Tips are appreciated! Support me!

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up! I’ve added some other fandoms as well, so if you’re interested in those, fill in the form again!):

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

Taglist: @larkspyrr @outlet-0 @rim0na @sweeti-pie @yamsthegod @reaped-winnower @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @fanfictionenthusiast @skatercashew @leefletter @kimbapsana @hentaje @marginmaster87 @tempehlust @rinnesy @hallohun @softlybeloved @ssalamanderr @ben6ett @rytszk @guilixi @mondstadts-favourite-traveler @mkazuyuh @ayra2452008 @simpingover @soft-like-sunshine @lnrchii @scheophi @multifandomgeeks @sacredmouche @foxxtrot-116 @maple-leaaf @myday6-studies @thraiaiscrying @fadinganchornight @missbuwan @the-one-that-lurks @adeptitao @ilovemyleftboob @marblesphere @allinduetimethefirst @how-simpy @loltartaglia @minyoustar @sesetiger @lqvl3y @d8turai @candyqueen10 @ichigo-no-tsumi @omoriq @saving-for-xiao @trashykawasmilkbread @jjkclub @seiiblue @midnightangelfox @korinkuu @heesocks @bobaducky @normalisthenewnorm @atasi-luna @berryqueue @milkypompon @fadinganchornight @coldstonecrematorium @hanachan_2481 @gultonluvv @plumpkie @idk-imjusthere @amigenshin @spirlimpo @hadesaedes @tsim-tsim @dilucragnvindrsgf @gahisb @yunaholics @That-one-air-collecter @allinduetime @give-xiao-almond-tofu @leafcaller @dilucsz @ninqat @mintyayu @kiyokoshii @jendytub @thegayrubberducky @lilyhanz @chuewi @bitandbytes @alatusorrow @midnightistyping @kagsn @hazyspells @duskdawn052 @fishclaymore @allinduetimethefirst @jahnvi-d @justpeaxchy @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @axerrri @rin-ruee @tohmanatic @multifandomtrashpanda @hatsunehatsu @mysticalchocolate @nikkacutiepie @vventis @backinblack1967 @helloxiaoty @fancystark @llivue @flower0930 @inohsae @melleunlikely @sunamew @aestharmus @rosa-qing @xiao-ciao @itdluvr @naviercallisto

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli fluff #kaeya fluff

676 notes · View notes

deepdarkdelights · 4 years ago

Text

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview: A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window.

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow.

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated.

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods.

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit.

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious.

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.

If only you had known what was to come.

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so.

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move.

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker.

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first.

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment.

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen.

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was.

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over.

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat.

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room.

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked.

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself.

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one.

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands.

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well.

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes.

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat.

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner.

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap.

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste.

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat.

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door.

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones.

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well.

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey.

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied.

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air.

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you.

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them.

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time.

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you.

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town.

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold.

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin.

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety.

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had.

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed.

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him.

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had.

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf.

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while.

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder.

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away.

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased.

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself.

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you.

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath.

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls.

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place.

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber.

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more.

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?”

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash.

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name.

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made.

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done.

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.”

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form.

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.”

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried.

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door.

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.”

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made.

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting.

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon.

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth.

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red.

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees.

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest.

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home.

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off.

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly.

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly.

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them.

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow.

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you?

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better.

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people.

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of.

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience.

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips.

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace.

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping.

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat.

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them.

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice.

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive.

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight.

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you.

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other.

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door.

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother.

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken.

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths.

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders.

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women.

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more.

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring.

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots.

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon.

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills.

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive.

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather.

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods.

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.”

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop.

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood.

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one.

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer.

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever.

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you.

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice.

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path.

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you.

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path.

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said.

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone.

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?”

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months.

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds.

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow.

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket.

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him.

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you.

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face.

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound.

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow.

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar.

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened.

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it.

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder.

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to.

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door.

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips.

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter.

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human.

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you.

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess.

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack.

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!”

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks.

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist.

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.”

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth.

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too.

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon.

And, without thinking, you ran.

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees.

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother.

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather.

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you.

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location.

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den.

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths.

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away.

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood.

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form.

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him.

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition.

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection.

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.”

2K notes · View notes

lemonlushff-iy · 4 years ago

Photo

Do you want to play a game?

You do? Good.

You know how these games work if you’ve ever seen one of Clearwillow’s...but game rules are HERE since it’s slightly different! I hope this is fun for people...that was my goal! And I hope you catch the “Easter Eggs” in it. I’m curious how many people will find them all.

I’ll post everything once it’s done on FFN and AO3, and you can catch what I’m doing for @clearwillow‘s game early on my Patreon HERE! (It might be more smut...It might be fluff. WHO KNOWS! It will be OLR related...and it will go up as soon as it’s finished!)

Special thanks to @underwater0phelia for kink help and @clearwillow for additional edits...and the IYFF BC for brainstorming! Art by @clearwillow for @eringobroke - used and edited with permission.

And now without further ado... The first treat (aka, the “freebie”).

Starting Fires

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the Inuyasha universe.

"Inuyasha, stop," Kagome giggled, trying to wriggle out of his hold as he pressed wet kisses up her neck. "I don't want to burn your bacon…"

"It's just bacon," he reasoned, his hands sliding up under her shirt. Or should he say his shirt? Fuck...there wasn't a better sight in the world than his best friend...his best girl...Kagome...Wearing his shirt in their kitchen in their house. Now that he had her again, he weren't never letting go of her. "I don't mind eating something else for breakfast."

"You will when your stomach is rumbling later," she blushed, grabbing his hands and pulling them down, his fingers grazing over the lace fabric of her panties. "Behave yourself and go grab a cup of coffee."

"I'd rather grab your—"

"—Coffee!"

She reprimanded, flipping the bacon in the pan. He placed a gentle nip to the side of her neck before moving away from her, a disappointed pout on his lips.

"Fine. But let it be known that I'm doing it under protest," he grumbled, moving to his cabinet to pull out a mug.

"Your protest has been duly noted, Sir," she teased, turning away from the stove to pick up her own cup of coffee. She brought it to her lips, sipping from it as she watched Inuyasha pour himself some. Their life together felt so surreal still. It felt strange to wake up in their house and cook them breakfast.

But it was a good kind of surreal.

The kind where she found herself pinching her arm to make sure it wasn't all some crazy dream. This was their life. And...she loved it.

"Mmm," he moaned, taking a sip from his cup. "As good as ever, Kags," he grinned toothily, and she risked entering his personal space to press another kiss to his lips.

"Glad you like it," she replied, running away from him again when he moved to squeeze her ass. She removed their bacon and eggs from the pan as a text message chimed on both of their phones, and Inuyasha raised a brow in curiosity. She watched him slide his thumb across the screen, before muttering out a low "Huh" as he read the text.

"What is it?" she asked, picking up their plates and placing them onto the island.

"See for yourself," he shrugged, placing the phone down next to her plate. "It's from Sango."

That already piqued her curiosity. Kagome picked up the phone, leaning over the countertop as she read it.

"Hey Guys!" She began aloud. "Miroku and I decided to throw a Halloween party this year. We know it's a bit last minute, but we were hoping you guys could come since you aren't heading back out to California like you thought. Let us know if you can make it! Trying to plan in terms of food. Love you!"

"Love you too," he grinned, and she couldn't stop the shy smile even if she wanted to. She didn't think she would ever get tired of hearing that again from him. The words were like a balm to her soul.

"What do you think?" Kagome asked, handing him his phone back as he began digging his fork into his eggs.

"Up to you," he shrugged. He really didn't care either way. He was just glad he didn't have to go out to California with her. Though, to tell the truth, he wouldn't have minded. They could have had a night in...just the two of them...And he was always a fan of nights in with her. But..."We can go. I know you wanna…"

It was true too. He had seen the way her eyes lit up when she was reading that message. The way she was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Kagome didn't want to spend the night in. She wanted to spend her first Halloween back in Montana at a party with old friends.

"But...You...Don't?"

He shrugged.

"Don't matter either way. I'm fine going. I'm fine staying home and fucking ya seven ways from Sunday."

"Yash!"

"What! It's tha truth," he replied with a smirk. "And you can't tell me ya don't like the sound of it," he continued, running his tongue over his fangs. The cute little blush he pulled from her was worth it.

"Well...How about a compromise?"

He paused, lifting his brow in curiosity.

"Go on…"

"What if we went to the party...Just for an hour or two...and then afterward we can come home and have sex? Oh! We can even wear couple's costumes again!"

The phrase couples costume made his butt clench so tight he could probably twist off a beer cap with his cheeks.

"I'll agree to go to the party...but not the couple's costume."

"But Yash," she whined, coming around the island to take his hands. "That's part of the fun…"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll wear something slutty?"

"N—" He began, ready to tell her no again when his brain processed her offer. "Keep talking."

"I'll wear something slutty and sexy?"

"...Uh-huh...And what else?"

"...And you get to take it off of me?"

He almost said yes...but he was a greedy fucker. He was probably gonna take it off of her even if she hadn't offered that.

"Do I get to do more than that?"

"You mean other than wear a matching outfit?"

"I do."

"Well," she began, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips in thought. "I'm assuming that sex is a given…"

"But you can say it anyway, and make it interesting," he shrugged. If he was going to get roped into this...because he was going to say yes, because he loved her...then he wanted to squeeze as much as he could out of this.

"Ok...If you do it, sex is on the table...and I'll also add you picking the place and position," she decided, causing his eyes to light up.

Place and position huh?

"Well...In that case Darling, you've got yourself a deal!"

Her childlike squeal and the way she giddily clapped her hands, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, made him feel like he made the right decision.

"Now let's talk costumes…"

He groaned, shaking his head and digging his fork into the eggs on his plate.

Then again...Maybe not…

He let her prattle on for a while, running different ideas past him...But he knew that it ultimately wouldn't matter. He was going to give in to whatever she wanted. If she wanted him to go as a hot dog, and she was going to be a bottle of mustard? That was what was going to happen. Wasn't sure how she could make it sexy...but sure. Her call. Prince and Princess? No fighting it. Batman and Catwoman…

It had piqued his interest, but she almost instantly changed her mind. The cowl would be uncomfortable for his ears.

So, she decided on a fireman and a dalmatian. He looked over at her phone when she held up a picture of the costume she had found for him and sighed.

"That's what you want?"

It didn't look too bad. And it looked like he could maybe get away with just wearing the pants. He was going to have to be sneaky about it though...He could do just a t-shirt and those pants.

"Please?" she beseeched, batting her long lashes at him. "It will be so cute! And you'll look so good!"

He tilted his head to the side, and she chewed the inside of his lip as she watched him roll her suggestion around in his head. She really liked the fireman outfit. She thought it would be fun! And he would look good in it too...She could already picture him slowly taking off the jacket to reveal his bare torso...the suspenders holding up his pants hanging limply at the sides as he slowly peeled himself out of—

"—What are you thinking about Kagome?"

She looked up at his face and saw him looking at her, a smirk stretching his lips as he limply held the phone, leaning down across the island.

"N-nothing," she blushed, swiping out to grab the phone from him, but he pulled it away from her at the last second.

"Nu-uh. I can smell it when you're lying…and I can smell it when you're—"

"—NOTHING!"

She insisted, grabbing the phone from him this time, and his grin turned predatory.

"Ain't nothing, or you wouldn't be smelling like that," he countered cheekily before his gaze began to darken. "Ya know...You don't have to keep that bottled up…"

"Inuyasha," she warned as he straightened, running his carefully filed and declawed fingers along the island countertop as he slowly came around to her side.

He was ignoring her, however.

"Kagome," he replied, closing in on her in just a few short strides. "Were you thinking about me in that fireman outfit?"

Sometimes she swore he could read her mind.

"N-no…"

"Liar," he purred, placing his hands onto the granite top on either side of her hips. He had effectively trapped her...and he was looking at her like prey.

It made her swallow because her mouth was suddenly dry. And made her lower abdomen heat. The intensity and desire in his gaze...the slight glint of fang in the morning light…

Fucking hell...She wanted to be his prey. Wanted to be captured and eaten and...eaten…

He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lowly moaned, "Fuck Kags…"

"W-what," she swallowed, and his smirk widened into a fangy grin before his lips crashed into hers.

AN:

I WILL ONLY DO THIS WALL OF TAGS ONCE! All future treats will be completely hidden under cuts so I don’t spam everyone’s timeline with in your face kink!

@clearwillow, @keichanz, @dangerouspompadour, @nartista, @kaze-ranna, @superpixie42, @sticky-llama-perfection, @pinkpigeonstudio, @mcornilliac, @itzatakahashi, @zelink-inukag, @juliatheanimelover7, @i-dream-of-soup, @smmahamazing, @the-lucky-ones311, @cyncyn981, @animemomma96, @ayari17, @underwater0phelia, @sailorbabydoll92, @l-taisho29, @animelove1313, @littlemissinukag, @gofoulpuppycollector, @umacaking, @chanin29, @willowandfog, @lebiishoujo, @theinuyashareader, @bluejay785, @irrationalandimpossible, @cstorm86, @ruddcatha, @desiree239, @littledaisy91, @liz8080, @cannibalsforbreakfast, @horriblehowl, @arcprz, @daisy-st-pati3nce, @senneth-pendra, @nsr0716, @eringobroke, @kagometaishostory, @thisshipisbananahs, @sunsetskys, @ajoy3fanfics, @sangoslays, @v0dka-cat, @cloudsz04, @lavendertwilight89, @yurawiththegoodhair, @saturnsilence, @lavaffair, @blairex, @fawn-eyed-girl, @fandomobsessions016, @neutronstarchild, @preciouslyours, @kalsies, @shnuggletea, @ladyphoenix0711, @littlestuffstohide

See you at 500 notes!!

#olr halloween game #lemon's reblog smut game #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyashafanfic #inuyasha #inukag #DAMNIT CARRA #Ode to Carra #Clearwillow #rancher #cattle rancher #western #romance #angst #one last ride #lemonlushff

4K notes · View notes

griffintail · 4 years ago

Note

I know you write about parental stuff for a lot of characters in the Dream SMP, but I was wondering if you could write something for Quackity?

I’ve seen some writers write about Philza finding a winged child with their wings clipped, and since everyone seems to headcanon Quackity as a duck hybrid with wings that were clipped by Shlatt during his presidency, I thought it would be interesting to see how Big Q would react to finding someone did something similar to a child.

Plus I just like the thought of him as Papa Duck, and calling his kid “Duckling”. It’s just really adorable, okay? I’m in a fluffy mood, and there’s ducks/ ducklings in my yard all the time, so needless to say I’ve grown to really like ducks over the years.

Ducklings are so cute!

However, this went a bit more angsty than planned...I still hope you enjoy it! There is fluffy parts in there!

Duckling

Pairings: Parental! Quackity x F! Child! Reader

Warnings: Blood, Harm done to a child, Implied Past Abuse, Wounds, Angstish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was any other day in New L’Manberg.

Quackity woke up, tended to his wounds to make sure they healed properly, changed into a clean outfit, then walked out of his home with his usual smile. He was able to have usual banter with his friends, laughing a true laugh making him feel relief each time as he didn’t have to hold anything back. Going to have his daily meeting with Tubbo and the rest of the cabinet was when his day changed drastically.

He was walking to the building when he saw a small sagging figure. Straightening up, he carefully went over.

“Hello?”

The figure looked up and he froze seeing the pain-filled face of a little girl. She stared for a moment before starting to fall.

“Help…be free…”

Her eyes closed as she fell to the ground and Quackity quickly rushed forward and caught her. As he did, he winced at the wet feeling as he held her back.

“Oh please.” He muttered before carefully moving her in his arms.

His blood boiled as he went pale.

The back of their shirt was soaked completely in blood and he could easily tell that she was still bleeding.

“Shit.” He scooped her up completely.

He ran as fast as he could to the meeting building, bursting through, scaring everyone inside.

“Quackity, you’re la—” Fundy started.

“What the hell is that?!” Ranboo jumped up seeing the blood-soaked shirt that was starting to coat Quackity’s hands.

“She’s losing blood fast,” Quackity said, putting the girl on the table. “I need help.”

Fundy rushed to grab potions as Tubbo took off his jacket, Ranboo shuffling next to Quackity as he took the little girl’s shirt off.

“Is that—” Ranboo gripped onto the front of his shirt as the other two eyes went wide looking at Quackity.

“She’s losing blood!” Quackity snapped at all of them and everyone worked past their shock to help him.

On the little girl’s back were two large wounds, very similar to the ones on Quackity’s back. He couldn’t think about it though, she was losing blood and he couldn’t let his anger control him at this moment.

Everyone worked quick and by the end, the potion had slowed down the bleeding enough for Ranboo to close up the wounds and cease the bleeding. Finally, they could all breathe as they stared at the little girl, who they had wrapped in Fundy’s jacket.

“Someone did that to her.” Tubbo finally said, the weight crushing the room.

“…Doesn’t matter anymore,” Quackity spoke up. “She lives in L’Manberg now and won’t see whoever did it again. She’s free.”

“She’s a kid Quackity, someone’s going to have to take care of her.” Fundy reminded him. “And what if she has parents—?”

Fundy couldn’t get out another word before Quackity shouted. “If she does, where the hell were they when the monster did this?! If she does have parents, they just lost their rights as parents.”

He felt the wounds on his back ached as he remembered the day, he lost his wings, his jaw clenching before he took a deep breath.

“I’ll take her. I know how to take care of her wounds and I’ll be able to help her.” Quackity finally told them.

“Are you sure?” Tubbo asked carefully.

“Positive.” He nodded with confidence.

He didn’t know what he was doing really when he came home and laid the little girl down on his bed for now. It was all a mystery really but he did believe that no one besides him could take care of her right. They had something horrible that connected them but he was hoping to help her through the pain better than he had dealt with it.

From there, he worked on making his home a bit tidier, really trying to keep his mind busy from the anger he felt to whoever did this to her. If he ever found out who did this, there’d be no mercy. As he was putting away a few potions’ bottles, he heard a small squeak and he went back to his room. The little girl was sitting up, face screwed up in pain.

“Hey, kid,” Quackity said quietly and she looked at him startled. “It’s ok, I’m the guy you ran into remember?”

She thought for a moment before nodding as he nodded as well grabbing a regeneration and health potion.

“A few friends and I healed and stitched you, you’ll need to take it easy for a long while so you don’t irritate your wounds or open them again. You mind if I put a bit of these on them to help them heal?”

“What are they?” She muttered.

“This is a regeneration potion; it will help your wounds close a bit easier so it won’t take months for them to close. This is a healing potion; it will help with the pain and keep you from getting sick because of your wounds.”

She stared at the shining liquids before slowly nodding again. “Ok.”

He came up behind her and lifting the jacket, reminding himself to return it to Fundy, before carefully first pouring the regeneration on the wounds. She winced and whimpered in pain.

“Yeah, I know kid. It’s going to hurt for a while.” He mumbled as he finished on the other one as quickly as he could but making sure it got done before using the health potion. “This should help a bit.”

“How do you know?” She asked curiously as she winced again.

He paused before putting the jacket down. “It’s a long story. Now you’re probably starving. Let’s get some food.”

It was a lot to process in a short amount of time, but, process Quackity did.

To start, Quackity made a spare room he had into her room. He set her up a bed to start and said, whatever else she wanted in there, he’d figure out. After establishing a space for her, he got to know her a bit better past the wounds on her back. Her name was (Y/N) and she was nine years old and she ran away from home. She liked books but she also liked to run around outside.

Knowing that Quackity asked to borrow more simple books from Ghostbur and would let her run around close by as he’d do his daily days. He tried to make her happy and she often was, the small shell she had breaking when around him. Slowly, but surely, she loved to follow him around and enjoyed talking with him, to which people would joke calling her his little duckling.

He supposed that was where the nickname came from as he had started to call her that after a few short weeks of her living with him.

It was a bit awkward for him to transition into taking care of two people instead of one for a while but he eventually got the hang of that too. With that, he also transitioned his days differently. In the early morning, he’d take care of his wounds before helping her with hers a couple of hours later.

The two had a bit of an unspoken rule. He never asked what happened to her wings if she didn’t ask how he knew how to take care of her wounds.

It changed though when he was doing the daily potion ritual. She had accidentally slept on her back and irritated her wounds a bit so it took a bit longer than usual. With him spending so much carefully taking care of the wounds, she wanted to talk about them.

“My dad took my wings away.” She muttered and Quackity froze in his work. “They were a lot like mommy’s…he took them away so I stopped looking like mommy…”

He was trying to keep his breathing under control as his thoughts went wild. He was hoping that maybe, as horrible as it was, that she was alone and some cruel person out in the world had done it. Yet, it was her father and it infuriated him so much, that he wanted to hunt this bastard down. However, …

(Y/N) sniffled and he pulled her shirt down before sitting next to her, putting his arm around her.

“Hey, little duckling, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s not your dad if he did something like this to you. I’m sorry he took them away from you, I know wings are very special.”

“They were fluffy.” She murmured as tears started to streak down her face.

“I bet they were. If I could get them back for you, I would. Instead, though, we’ll live like this and smile on the ground because even without any wings, we’re still pretty special.” He told her, rubbing her arm.

He promised he’d destroy the man that use to be in her life, but today…

She hugged him and he squeezed her back.

Today was all about her.

Weeks passed and Quackity was smiling as (Y/N) ran ahead, bouncing as she looked back at him.

“Come on papa duck! I want to see the new books!”

“I’m coming, you’re just too fast duckling.” He put a hand on his chest dramatically.

She giggled as she turned around, going to where Ghostbur was waiting outside the entrance to the sewer. The ghost eagerly showed the little girl the new books he had “found” and Quackity merely stood to the side, pleased with the excitement (Y/N) had coursing through her. Ghostbur lent her one of the books and Quackity nodded to him.

“Thanks, Ghostbur.” Quackity waved as he walked off with the little girl.

He never thought he’d be doing something like this in his life, but he didn’t mind. It was a nice change of pace.

Ghostbur smiled as he watched them walk off. They were always so adorable together, even with the black transparent wings on both of them. As they walked away, one of the wings was wrapped around (Y/N) as her tiny fluffy ones flapped in excitement. Very lovely.

#dreamsmp x reader #quackity x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction

936 notes · View notes

tommyspeakycap · 4 years ago

Note

HF for how Tommy feels on his daughters wedding day please

first half is headcanons and the second half is a lil blurb!

tommy is quite literally distraught

like that’s no exaggeration he is literally heart broken

his baby, his whole world was getting married

for the past 20 years, you had been tommy shelby’s whole world

you were born when tommy was only 17

not even an adult yet himself

so it felt as though you had been with him most of his life

it had kind of just been you and him, in a sense

of course there was the rest of the clan too, and you were incredibly close to them as well

but your mother died in childbirth, so tommy was both mum and dad

he had to do it all alone in that sense

everyone tells him he should be so proud of how he raised you

because you’re sweet and kind

and you have that humour that the war took from tommy

you made people laugh like he had

and you were really the only person that could make him laugh

you were strong, like your mother tommy had always said

but you credit everything you are to him

he was the first man to love you, and teach you how you should be loved

he also taught you how you should be treated, generally a lot better than the average father would

tommy made sure that his daughter would be treated like a queen

you were his princess

so whomever you were to marry, you would be treated as their queen

he made absolutely sure of that

and that marrying was your choice

not something you were coerced into for money or business, but something you wanted

and it was

with a man who you had loved since 16

tommy liked him as much as he could like the man that was going to be taking his baby girls hand and changing her name

the thought of you not being (y/n) shelby, tommy shelby’s little princess, was earth shattering to him

although you had insisted you were keeping it in the middle

alas, tommy knew you were so loved by that man

be that as it may, all parties knew if he stepped a foot out of line or raised a finger in anything but gentility and love

then he would be struck down in a timely and violent fashion by tommy himself

tommy definitely cries that day too

“Tommy?” Grace’s voice immediately draws his attention towards her and away from his thoughts about the impending fact his little girl was getting married in half an hour. His eyes are that kind of wet that shows he’s fighting tears, that he won’t dare let them fall. Grace can see the lump he tries to swallow in his throat and a piece of her heart breaks for him as she sits down on the bench next to him outside the hall where the ceremony would take place. You were inside getting the dress on and getting your hair done with Polly and Ada and previously Grace before she had come out to see if her husband was okay.

He was not.

“Oh Tommy,” Her voice is so soft and caring as she wraps her arm around him and rubs his shoulder, hugging him to her slightly. “She looks so beautiful Tom, and god she’s so happy; can’t stop smiling at all. She still has that smile you talk about, the innocent one and it looks just like yours does sometimes.” Tommy clenches his jaw tightly, still refusing to let those tears go. She sees him clamp down his teeth over his bottom lip to stop it trembling. “It’s alright Tommy, this is good. She’s in love with a man who loves her so much. Almost as much as you do.”

Tommy shakes his head at that, one hand on his knee to brace himself as he tries to speak. “Not possible.” He snips, “And i loved her first.”

His voice breaks on that. The lip finally trembles and he hangs his head with a sharp inhale to let free that shoulder shaking sob. “She was my little baby. How is that my little girl in there? She used to-” Tommy had to pause again, roughly wiping his hand over his face to clear away the tears as he looks up at Grace, “She used to be this big,” he gestures with his hands in a way that she imagined was meant to be him cradling a baby. His voice sounds drastically different than she’s used to because it’s clouded by his tears and his agony.

“She used to ask me to brush her teeth and comb her hair and lift her up to wash her hands,” he bleats, images flashing through his mind of that short little girl who couldn’t reach the bathroom sink. He sees the little girl who stood on top of the toilet so he could brush those teeth and he can see the smile that little girl gave him all those nights when he asked to see to make sure he had brushed them right. “She used to climb into my bed every morning and she used to save up her tooth fairy money to buy us all gifts. She’d save food from her dinner for the dogs on the street and i swear on my life i don’t know how to live without her being my baby girl, Grace.” Tears continue to stream down his cheeks as Grace notices the black and white photograph that looked truly as though it had been through the war; as it had. it was stained and slightly run and it was crumpled. A little girl with a toothless grin and Tommy Shelby’s eyes, even with the lack of colour to the old photograph.

“It’s alright Tommy,” Grace hums, rubbing her husbands back soothingly, “She’s your little girl, she always will be.” She knew there was really nothing else she could say that would ease his pain. There was nothing anyone could do or say that would send you back to the little girl he would could throw over his shoulder and run around the house with. There was nothing that could ease the pain of a fathers aching heart when his baby girl becomes a woman who doesn’t need him like she used to.

“Thomas?”

He and Grace look up at Polly. The look in her eyes speaks for her . “She’s ready?” Tommy asks, prompting his aunt to nod her head with a smile. “Come on then, Tom!” Arthur calls from the grand doorway at the top of the steps to the hall. When Tommy and Grace reach him, Arthur wraps his arm roughly around his brothers shoulder and pulls Tommy into him. “Baby (y/n) getting fuckin’ married eh? Can’t fuckin’ believes she’s this fuckin grown up.” He shakes his head, taking his arm away from his brother when they reach the door of the dressing room where you were waiting. “Beautiful she is, Tom.” Arthur says, “Looks just like mum. In you go.” He ushers his younger brother in that door.

Nobody sees Tommy Shelby quite like you do, and he’s happy for it to stay that way. He’s known it since you were a tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms. He doesn't love anyone like he loves you, so it makes full sense that you are the only person in the world who he allows his vulnerability to fully leak through with. Although, he probably couldn't prevent it even if he tried.

Maybe that’s why he doesn't fight so hard to keep his eyes from welling up when he sees you standing there looking in the mirror, donned in the most beautiful white wedding gown that he’s ever seen. Placed in his hand is the stunning light veil that he had picked out for you. The headband was something like a tiara, because you were his princess and he truly believed that everything you had should be the best the world could offer. The dress too had been extortionate and you would never have gotten it had you known the price it had come to, but Tommy had never allowed you to know. He simply had the designers bring an array of dresses to his estate where you tried them all on with Polly, Ada, Lizzie, Grace, Linda and Esme to comment and complement each dress, as well ad aide you on picking the one that suited you the most with cost never a mention. Tommy had preached he ‘no expense spared’ approach the whole way through the planning of the wedding and any timenhe caught you trying to cut or manage costs, he simply shut you down and enforced the rule that the wedding planner was no longer allowed to discuss prices with you.

He had truly created the most fantastical day for you, and he would have spent every single penny that he had if it meant giving you the most beautiful start to a new life that he could give.

You had wanted him to be the one to place that veil on your head with the guidance of your hair dresser to ensure he didn't mess up the design of your hair. He had been the one to place little plastic tiaras on your head when you were merely a little girl who wanted to play princess dress up. He used to be the one to comb back your hair and twirl you around that Watery Lane kitchen with Arthur did the same with Ada and Polly laughed heartily from her seat at the table.

It felt right to have him put a tiara on you one last time as baby Shelby.

“You’re beautiful.” He breathes, his lips stretching into a wide and incredibly proud smile. “So, so very beautiful my darling.” Your cheeks blush ever so slightly and you lean over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dad.”

He wants to hug you tightly and never let you go. He wants to will and wish you back to the little girl that he used to twirl around all afternoon. He missed that little girl so much. He had so much love in his heart for you, so much that it overwhelmed him every time he had tried to acknowledge it over the course of your life.

“I love you.” he says, his shaky voice conveying how much he actually means those words. “So much more than you can ever know. I’m going to miss you so much.”

You breathe a short laugh, shaking your head at him. “I’m not going anywhere, dad. I’ll still be seeing you all the time. I’ll just have a different name.” You hold his hand tightly in yours as he leads you out of the dressing room and into the hall towards the large double doors that would take you to the isle.

“Mhm,” he hums, “I suppose. You’ll understand what I mean someday. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“You two ready to go?” The wedding planner asks, watching as you turn to Tommy somewhat excitedly and nod. “You ready dad?” You ask, giving his had a reassuring squeeze. He sighs heavily, but nods his head too, removing his hand from yours and moving his arm so that you can link yours through his. His play on his mind before he says them, a small smile too playing on his lips as the nickname that he used to call you runs through his memory.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, my little love.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #shelby sister reader #shelby!reader

448 notes · View notes

kiwibirbs-library · 4 years ago

Text

Nightmares

a/n: so like.. uhh... how’s your day? Cause mine said work and think of this babe the whole time. Oh you too? Cool cool.

YALL THIS IS AFTER I WROTE THIS ITS SO LONG OMG OK I NEED TO GO READ THROUGH WOW

Pairing: Keith kogane x reader

Warning: uhh nightmares ya ya that. That’s it

Summary: you get nightmares, fairly bad done at that. And one night you just can’t do it anymore and go to the nearest occupied room. And suddenly it becomes a tradition.

You were rescued from a prison break. The only thing that made you special was that your entire planet was massacred and you had absolutely nowhere to go.

That was almost 6 months ago.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. In a near empty room of the castle, trying to fall back asleep. This was the fifth time you had a nightmare this week. This was the fifth time you had had to relive the vivid torture. The fifth time you’ve been curled up in a ball, tears streaming, trying to just breath through it.

After about 10 minutes you sat up. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep going off of two hours of sleep. You really couldn’t keep hearing Shiros ‘you ok?’ Every morning when you showed up looking like the living dead.

You grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around yourself before waking to the door. The faded walking lights were enough to keep you from hitting anything as you stopped at the nearest door. Hopefully it was someone who could help you. Just to talk to if you could. In other words— as much as you enjoy him— not Lance. You gulped as you knocked on the door. You weren’t expecting it to open as soon as it did.

Keith stood in the open door way, rubbing an eyes slightly as his vision adjusted to see you clearly.

“Y/n?” His voice was raspy from not talking for a while.

“Um hi,” your voice broke in the middle. His brows furrowed as he noticed your stained cheeks and red nose.

“Are you ok?” He squinted at you a bit, still not completely able to see you.

“Uh actually could I um... stay here for a bit.... please,” it all came out whimpery and cracked. You felt kind of pathetic. You half expected him to tell you where Shiro was and go back to sleep with how long he took to respond. But no. He backed up a bit and gave you room to come in. You smiled a little up to him and shuffled in. He sat on his bed and watched you slightly as you made your way down to the floor.

He didn’t exactly know why but he didn’t like the idea of you laying there. It was clean sure, and he definitely would have let anyone else sleep there, but he couldn’t in good conscious just leave you there. Especially with how red and wet your face was when you passed him. He cleared his throat a bit and you looked up at him from your spot. He patted the mattress beside him and you got the idea, getting up and sitting next to him.

“So... what’s wrong?” He looked at your hands as they twisted into each other. You bit your lip.

“Um well, lately I’ve been having these.. um... nightmares. There of the time in the prison. And the um... things that happened,” you gulped. There was a slight pause.

“You don’t have to force yourself to talk if you can’t,” Keith sighed a bit. You looked over to him to find a surprising look of worry on his face. You were taken aback by how understanding he looked. From what you knew of him he was that loner of the group, the one that didn’t talk much and did his own thing, only worrying about himself (and Shiro as you observed). But sitting next to you wasn’t someone that didn’t know feelings of others. It was more like someone who could understand what was happening with you.

“I get nightmares too you know. Of course I’ve never been tortured like you or Shiro were, but they still get to me pretty bad,” he said bluntly, leaning back on his hands. You sighed and brought you knees to your chest, a tired look in your eyes. “You can go to sleep if you want, it would be good for you,” he said without looking at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled a little. “You know, your a lot nicer than I thought you would be one on one,” you laid down slowly.

“I’ll take that as a complement?” His words had the slightest sound of amusement with them. It brought a calming blanket down on you.

In no time your were completely knocked out, Keith leaning up against the wall, also falling asleep as he made sure you didn’t wake up.

~~~~

There was a vibrating from under your head, waking you up. You weren’t fully awake as you felt the air on your skin without opening your eyes. You felt something come underneath the pillow and stop the movement before leaving. Your brows furrowed slightly as you moved even closer to wherever the thing had come from. Without moving much you hit something, immediately running a hand down the back of it before falling back to sleep.

Keith was also awakened by a vibrating. More than you obviously as this was his alarm every morning. So when he turned it off to keep you to sleep and you moved closer he very much noticed. And then your hand ran down his back and made him shiver. He was a blushing mess. He couldn’t even say anything as you stuffed your face into his chest and stayed asleep. Without even knowing it he was smiling at you, moving some hair from your face before he thought about it. You pushed yourself forward a little more, turning him onto his back as you used him as a body pillow. For the first time in a while he had to hold back a laugh at the movement.

You both stayed like that for almost an hour before you groggily got up finally. When you saw the position you immediately started apologizing for what happened. He waved you off, his normal stern face back as he sat up and met you in the middle of the room.

“Calm down its fine, I don’t really care. Anyways we should leave, we’re about to have the morning meeting,” as if the castle could hear him the intercom turned on with a loud beep and Alluras voice came on.

“Meeting time! Hunk made food as well,” and she was gone. You smiled at the idea of Hunks cooking.

“Oh shoot I need to change,” you looked down to your pajamas.

“Meh Lance Never does don’t worry about it,” in truth Keith was just stalling to continue seeing you in them. He really didn’t understand why but he liked the sight. You both left his room before walking the halls to kitchen. Mostly everyone was there, the only one not was Lance unsurprisingly. You waved a bit as you took a seat next to Pidge, Keith to you. They looked at you both with a smile before going back into their talk about something technical.

You tried to listen as you ate but your thoughts drifted to the night before and this morning. A light pink hit your face at the thought. You smiled a little as you put the spoon to you mouth.

~~~~

These sleepovers quickly became something usual. In some instances you wouldn’t even go back to your room, just straight to his with him. At one point he told you to bring some clothes over to change so now you had your little pile in the corner of dresses and shirts. The most awkward part of it would have to when you both began cuddling consciously. You felt hot as Keith put a very hesitant arm on you, his constant ‘is this ok?’s making you laugh a bit.

You didn’t know when but at some point you started taking the sessions in for more. You would always smile at the thought of Keith. Your eyes would always wonder the room in search of him. If the found his you would gaze for a moment before looking away.

Keith knew exactly when he took after hours for more. He knew exactly what he was doing when went to his room at the end of the night, waiting impatiently for you to show up. He knew exactly what he wanted when he asked you to bring some clothes over, his idea for you to spend more time there working amazingly.

The day you got found out though was the most embarrassing moment of your life. Even worse than Pidge calling you out for staring at the boy. For one thing you were more tired than usual that morning due to training the previous day. So while reaching for a pair of leggings you missed and grabbed Keith’s spare sweatpants. Honestly you didn’t even think about how big they were as you threw on your jacket and left. Keith had left before you to meet with Shiro so you were alone and the first in the breakfast hall. By the time you stood up everyone was there as well. Keith’s hand flew to his face to hide the bright red that flushed his face when he noticed. He wasn’t going to say anything, he didn’t really want to. He would have to resist the urge to hide your normal pjs in favor of you wearing his for the next week.

“Aren’t those a little big on you?” Pidge commented.

“Huh?” You looked down and blushed a bit at the clothing. “O-oh ya, haha. Um i saw them at the mall we went to the other day and picked them up,” you coughed.

“Wow really those look like what Keith was wea—“ Lances mouth was covered and his head was dragged down by Keith’s arms. Everyone looked between you two with skeptical look before you slip out the door with a ‘well then’.

That was the catalyst of Lance following Keith to his room and hour later. He was droning on about something when Keith stopped in front of his door. He never had time to clean up this morning. Your clothes were probably still scattered in different areas. He cleared his throat.

“What?” He looked to Lance you was waiting patiently for the door to open.

“Oh I wanted to see what your room looked like. I’m bored and have nothing to do today,” he gave a dramatic sigh. Keith blocked the door.

“No.”

“Whaaat?? Why nooooott? How long have we known each other? Shouldn’t we have more trust????” Lance whined. “Besides whaaat Y/n in here the other day?”

“No,” Keith stayed. Then you came down the hall. You had went to your room in search of a pair of pants before realizing they were still sitting on the edge of Keith’s dresser. Maybe your other jacket was still on his bed if you were lucky. When you saw Lance you made a turn to leave the way you came too late.

“Y/n?” Lance called. You stopped and turned back to him.

“Hey Lance, what’s up?” You smiled a bit and walked a little closer. Keith was happy to hear your voice but also bit his lip at the predicament. You were probably looking for your favorite leggings. The ones you left here the other night. Bad timing.

“Oh I was wanting to see inside Keith’s room! What about you?” You continued talking to Lance, at one point giving Keith a side glance to say to go in. He quickly slipped into his room and started picking up your things and hastily putting it places, most went under his bed. In all honesty he didn’t mind too much about everyone finding out about your sleepovers. He did mind however about the teasing that would come with it.

The door clicked and slid open, Lance walked in with a nervous you glancing around after him.

“Wow it’s so boring in here,” Lance sighed, draping himself over on top of you. “There’s nothing in here how do you live like thi—“ he stopped when he looked over the floor. He saw something light blue poking out from under the bed. Keith tensed when lance moved it out with his foot. The jacket dragged out a few more clothes with it, all definitely not Keith’s and very obviously yours.

“Y/n did you know your clothes are— OH MY GOD NO WAY!!” He jumped away from you and looked between you and the mullet boy. “YOU TWO ARE A THINGGG??”

“No no we’re not!” You held up your hands and tried to explain. You missed Keith’s small and inaudible ’yet’.

“Then why are your clothes here? Are there more?!” Lance asked, gesturing to the small pile on the floor.

“Um well, sleepovers?” You rubbed your hands together. Lance turned to Keith.

“What does that mean?”

“Well what do you think a sleepover means? Honestly,” he crossed his arms. Lance turned back to you.

“How many times??”

“Ah ha ha um... multiple?” You looked over to Keith to find he was already watching you. You whipped back to Lance. As if the universe told you you weren’t getting out of this easy, Pidge and Hunk passed by the open door. They peered in a you heard a little laugh.

“He finally figured it out? Hah we knew weeks ago,” the small girl laughed a little, pushing her glasses up.

“You two knew?!!!” Lance whined as he left the room to join those two in the hall. Keith, quicker than you would have thought, moved and pressed a button to close and lock the door. You heard a muffled ‘hey’ before footsteps that eventually faded away. He sighed. You gave a little laugh.

“That your first choice in hiding?” You giggled.

“Shut up,” he gave you a smile and a glance before flopping down on his bed with a groan. “This is why no one comes in here.”

“Aww I feel so special,” you giggled again as you climbed on top of him. You laid you head down as he dragged you completely on top of him. “By the way, about what Lance said.” Keith looked down to you. “What are we anyway?”

“Well, I’d prefer the privileges of boyfriend all the time. But if you wouldn’t then I don’t mind waiting,” you put yourself up on your arms at his directness.

“What?”

“What?” He repeated.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the closed off feelings guy? What was that?” You look at him bewildered.

“I will not hesitate to leave you here alone,” he gave you a playful glare. “Answer my sentence though.”

“What?”

“Do I get privileges?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you looked away before sitting up fully. “You get to tell everyone though,” you smiled a bit.

“Ugh why,” he groaned and put his head to the side. His hands naturally rested on your hips. You both had been doing this so long you never even took it as something weird with the way you straddled him. You laughed a bit at him when he pinched your sides a bit.

“Deal?”

“Deal,” he smiled before pulling you a little closer and finally doing what he had been wanting to for the past month, finally kissing you.

#voltron #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #Keith x reader #lance #Pidge #hunk #shiro #Allura #Coran #team voltron #voltron fanfiction

422 notes · View notes

avalentina · 1 year ago

Text

So... Unfortunately I got called in for a work emergency today, I just got home, and am finally sitting down to write the last 6ish thousand words, it won't be done in two hours unfortunately, but rest assured, I'm not leaving my computer until it's done. For now, you get a sneaky.

2.2k Sneak Preview! Enjoy!

"Darling, there are some perks to being a Baroness, although you are technically in line for the throne, as am I."

"Thank you mother."

"Someday I hope to hear you call me mum once again, but until then I am just happy to speak to you."

"I would like that too, now for dinner next week, Wednesday or Thursday?" You reply and ask.

Let me speak with Lorraine and Fitzwilliam, and then I'll have a memo sent to you at your office, via your assistant, Amelia isn't it?"

"She prefers Mia, and she's not my assistant, but she is in my department. I don't keep an assistant, I prefer to manage it all myself."

"Well I will have it go to Mia then just to avoid violating the contact order."

"That won't be necessary, I'll have it fixed before the end of the day."

"Thank you Mum, thank you for this, for everything we discussed today. I'll be waiting for your letter or call.” You say as the two of you walk out.

“I Can See You’re Lonely Down There”

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned seeing what you were wearing. “How am I supposed to cook when you look like that.” he adds, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Ya know, it does feel like a brief kinda day,” he comments and slips his shorts and briefs off, right in front of you, turning around to show of his ass that you love.

“Is that the game we’re playing H?” you ask and even the score by removing your bra and panties, but leaving the cover on.

“Let’s start cooking before I end up fucking you on the cleaned and sanitized counters.” You bite back a moan and nod your head.

“Words, lovie.”

“Fucking drenching my cock and its not even out yet doll, fucks.” he says, his voice almost a moan.

“OH GOD, please H, please just split me in fucking half with your cock, can’t wait anymore.” You cry out, on the verge of an orgasm.

“Gonna come already baby, ‘ve barely touched your cunt.”

“Oopsies.” You say with your most innocent smile, which has him laughing again and the sound of his laughter is so contagious you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Don’t You Know That I Am Right Here”

Hope y'all enjoyed it!

Love Yas!

-Ava

I'M BACK BABY!

In celebration of Tumblr finally fixing my account...

Satellite: A Harry Styles Song fic releasing Saturday, July 1st, 2023 @ 7pm CST.

Hope you're ready, but you're probably not!😝

With Loves!

-Ava

PS: it will be my longest fic to date, ≈30k words (oopsies)

PSS: Comment if you want to be tagged!

40 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

can we get a fratboy Jimin and good girl oc with pinning from both sides 👀 ahhhh thank u in advance love ur writing!!

cherry king

drabble week: day four

drabble week masterlist

pairing: fratboy!jimin x goody two-shoes!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“next!”

great!! the line’s moving :D

that’s only like the 87th time jimin has heard the word next and it makes him wonder how much more would it take him to bring him to the front

(it’s actually only been 14 times and jimin might just be a self-admitted impatient bitch!!!)

he understands that yes, it’s ten in the evening!!! and reasonably-large stores/pharmacies like these can have less staff at the time compared to ten in the morning

sure, checkout machines and cashier lanes could be broken down!! or they could just not be open at all

jimin gets that alright, maybe the self-checkout machines are close at this time of the night because it is ten in the evening

what’s not clicking in his mind, however is that at the exact time that he comes here

as in the EXACT time that he’s here (!!!) — there happens to be dozens of people in a store at ten in the evening, and there happens to be a grand total of one (1) cashier lane

atleast random store music would be entertaining :((( all he hears are the beeps of a scanner and the chatter of groups of people who came here

jimin was eavesdropping on some guys in front of him and he wAS invested but lmao turns they were just discussing the plot of die hard or any testosterone-jacked movie like it

he’s also tried looking at the smaller middle-aged woman’s phone in front of him who’s scrolling through her facebook feed, but quickly decides against continuing it

because what if u could see his face and when she turns it off, she’d see a college guy deeply-invested in the baloney article she was reading about how subway sandwiches are the work of the devil

so uh yeah he’s just looking everywhere besides the front, back, and the sides of him and in all angles basically

he’s,,,,, aimlessly scrolling through his instagram feed he’s already scrolled through tHREE times and his explore’s page a little too dry

it’s a good thing that jimin’s entirely sure he’s the nosiest person out of this line and no one else is trying to figure him out

might be wrong though

“cherry king?”

hold the fuck on

jimin’s eyes widen, head snapping up and clueless to the fact that he doesn’t look discreet at all, and his head-cocking’s the most movement he’s done the whole time in this store

WHO’S SAYING HIS NICKNAME?????

it can’t be a coincidence either because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t anything named cherry king that’s being sold here

there is literally NO other plausible scenario happening here besides the fact that someone who knows him is in the store!!!!

his gaze falls to the person behind him, brows knitted in confusion until it clicks

that was you?

“jimin? huh, it really is you. i thought i was losing my mind for a second.”

“y/n?”

okay maybe hE’S the one who’s losing his mind here

he knows you!! you’re the smart girl in his year who’s known for being pristine and stuff!! you’re like the good-est girl he’s ever known and heard of

.... quick question lads is that weird to know someone by

“you could’ve just called me by my name, y’know,” jimin chuckles heartily, still a little dumbfounded to see you here but he’s grateful for the interaction nonetheless

you look casual today?? like you still look like yourself but everyone else would think it’s an out-of-body experience to see you out of your pretty dresses and monochromatic get-ups

it’s you..,.. in a hoodie three sizes larger than your size with your pristine shoes traded in for socked-feet wearing slides

jimin thinks that you look like grace under pressure

“i wasn’t sure,” you smile right back and it’s the first time he realizes that there’s glasses atop your nosebridge, softening your image more from the usual composed look you carried

“how were you sure enough to say my nickname out-loud though?”

jimin questions you, bringing light to how he’s wearing a plain white shirt and is looking as relaxed as ever with how he’s dressed — his hair long enough to be put into a messy sprout of a bun

you clear your throat, the amusement bubbling in your scratchy throat

“you have yourself as your lockscreen, jimin.”

oh my gOD

he winces when you say it, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment that he whines in pain with how direct you put it

“n-no way — fuck you respectfully, y/n. i-i’m not- i’m changing it right now!!”

does he look the vainest person alive rn

the way he has a mini freakout entertains you to your core, giggles unable to be suppressed as he finds the latest-taken picture he has of dogs that he comes across with

that’s 10/10 an experience he doesn’t want to repeat again

“it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone.”

he hears you reassure and he believes you, a flustered blush on his cheek still as he coughs to make up for a diversion topic he couldn’t think of

frankly, you’re getting bored too and jimin’s the only form of entertainment you have because using your phone atm would be too disorienting

“what are you doing here, by the way?”

your head tilts in query and he’s relieved that you address something else, not being relieved seconds later when he realizes his answer

“just a little supply run for our frat. we weren’t supposed to run out of things for three more days, so this is just a lil emergency haul for awhile.”

you nod in understanding, glancing down at his basket and uh

uhm 1/4 of the space is literally occupied by boxes of condoms

....

......

jimin’s confused to why you turn silent, thinking that he must’ve gotten boring to continue talking to until he follows your gaze to his basket

NO WAY?!]>|>]%%[%]%]

“i-it’s not l-like that!!!” he crouches and immediately gets the food and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to bury the condoms in the bottom of the pile, attractively getting more attention from you who’s ready to let it go

“i-it’s not — it’s ours �� n-no!! t-they just gave me a list and i just put it because it’s on the list b-but like it wasn’t my-...”

how many more times will the universe fuck jimin up in front of the person he has a lil happy crush on

you only smile meekly, tilting your head and he thinks this is the part where you tell him how much of a douche he is

"y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

“t-that?” jimin clarified albeit confused, thinking back to his nickname as he tries to rapidly connect the dots to not look like a fool

cherry king? that?? what do you-

WAIT WHAT

“nO!! o-of course not!!”

he almost shrieks and his voice sounds ultimately defensive, shaking his head no

why does he look so frantic

“hey, hey, i believe you! — calm down, jimin. you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

whew

fuck

but he argues that it iS the truth though!!!

but why won’t you just ask him why he’s called cherry king though >:(

you’re already content with the silence after the conversation but he isn’t, still wanting more

is it so bad that he wants redemption D:

“how about you? what are you doing here?”

you don’t answer instantly and it’s because you’re nudging jimin to continually walk, the cashier looking much more visible now as he’s nearer in line

he takes a look at the handful of things that’s in your basket —

electrolytes, hot pockets, soup, cup noodles and fever patches...?

“oh. i think i’m running a fever.”

what???

what are you doing here aLONE if you think you’re running a fever???

he’s not gonna lie about the fact that you don’t look too good

what if you pass out and no one’s there for you and all the graveyard shift employees do is put a wet floor sign around your figure???

“y/n?? what are you doing here alone then?? are you oUT of your mind??”

the panic in jimin’s voice is clear as day and you’re a little startled, instead responding to tapping him on the shoulder to point that he’s already the one on the cashier

what he does is grab your basket before he is, putting it in front of the conveyor belt because he couldn’t even wait for it to roll out

“i said i think i’m running a fever.”

jimin stops from simultaneously rummaging for his rewards card and putting his items on the counter to unceremoniously drop the box of condoms down jUST to put his hand on your forehead

“you are.”

you surely don’t think low of jimin but you can’t help be surprised either at his concern for you when this is the only time you’ve had a conversation with him!!!

“you drove here?” he asks in seriousness, sending you a look while waiting for the total amount

“walked. the airconditioning makes me even more sick,” you answer with no fuss because even thinking about car fresheners while you’re sporting a fever makes you want to gag. “let me-...”

jimin already pays for both your items in cash, getting them bagged separately as he’s not gonna take no for an answer for what he’s gonna propose next

“then i’ll keep the windows down. i’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

he grabs both your bags in one hand and uses the other to beckon you over, holding you still because it’s dark out and a fever vision wouldn’t exactly help

it’s only when he straps you in and (true to his word) puts the windows down and starts his car that you start asking

“why are you doing this for me?”

why IS he doing this for you??

jimin thinks about his answer in a second

“would you do the same for me?”

well

if you were in front of him at a godforsaken line, had yourself as your lockscreen, realize that jimin’s behind you with a fever and is by himself in a store at 10 in the evening

“of course i would.”

jimin smiles, steering away from his parking spot

“then i would too.”

( ♡ )

maybe you’re thinking of jimin

no wait you’re dEFINITELY thinking of jimin

you’re much better now and your fever’s already subsided enough for you to go back to class!!!

the whole interaction with him was three days ago and maybe your head is just full of him at this point

“are you sure you’re okay to handle this by yourself??”

jimin worries when he drops your bag to your hands, briefly coming inside your dorm to set it down

“mhmm. i’ll just sleep it out.”

“i think if you’re missing a couple of steps.”

you snort as his paranoid features, waving him off. “i’ll eat. then go to the bathroom. and then sleep.”

okay good enough

“what if this just-“ jimin trails off, his expansive mind suddenly running as he points to your chest, “stops????”

cute

“i have a smart watch.”

“would you put me as one of the emergency contacts? please?”

he’s making you take down his number without malice because jeez he’s gENUINELY worried!!!!

it may not always be great sharing a house with his frat brothers, but he knows that if he has a fever, atleast half of them would dote over him and you have atleast one who would go into hysterics!!! it’e a full package!!

“i’ll be okay, jimin. i’ll call you when i need someone to hand me my puke bucket.”

“please do. i’m not even kidding. get better now because i miss your dresses.”

o_O

uhm

“n-no i meant your usual style!! wait, not that there’s anything wrong w-with your style right now. i-i was-...”

“yeah. i miss them too. now go home, jimin.”

“you sure?”

u never really had the impulse to invite a guy to go inside your place but maybe now you do

“mhmm. drive safe.”

okay

:-)

“good night, y/n. call me whenever.”

classes were a bit rough today because you’re still easing yourself on getting back to the groove of things, but it was tolerable!!!

you’re getting your key out of your backpack when a lock clicks open a couple doors away from you, the hinge noisily squeaking

it’s jimin who leaves it, with seri who’s the actual occupant of the dorm leaning on the doorframe

“y/n—!”

he squeaks the moment his eyes land on you

your hand automatically waves, the same meek smile for him to see

“jimin.”

( ♡ )

the last interaction you had with him is still on jimin’s mind, a whole week later

it’s been bothering him recently that you know what it looks like the last time around!!!! but he could swear up and down that it wasn’t

he just feels this great urge to explain even if you haven’t asked

“oh. so we have to move out for the time-being?”

jimin clarifies with namjoon, the head of the frat, and he’s met with a solemn nod

it makes sense!!!

the house got checked today and there were mULTIPLE fire hazards!!! and it needs to be fumigated anyway under new campus protocol so it indeed makes sense

practically everyone's going home because it’s a long weekend anyway because of a holiday

and he’s not sure if he wants to take the same route.

“hi.”

jimin squeaks the moment you open your door, surprise evident on your face but not shock to the point you’d close the door on him

“jimin?”

okay maybe he’s gonna go straight to explaining

“frat house needed to be closed because of some complications, and it wouldn’t be open to us for another three days. most of the guys are coming home,” jimin clears his throat, his head down while he shyly scratches the back of his ear, “i have one, but i’m not sure if i wanna.”

it’s that problem

it takes one, two seconds before it all registers in your head, nodding surely

“you can take my bed. i’ll take the couch, it’s a pull-out anyways.”

you open the door for him widely and the only thing you ask if he’s had dinner and if he’d like some

god you’re really throwing him in a loop here

it’s after a batch of your cooking that jimin’s only ache is why you were the way that you were, half-dazed the whole time he’s met you properly

“why do you never ask me?”

“hmm?” you hum as you dry the dishes that you’ve used, wanting to get it done as soon as possible so your full attention would be on him

no, actually. jimin WANTS you to pry!!

he wants you to worm your way into his privacy and into the confines of his mind

but it seems like you’ve already did without even asking.

“ask me why i’m called the cherry king.”

you tilt your head in confusion, that time playing in your head of why jimin looked confused when you didn’t continue to ask further

maybe you’ll indulge him

“why are you called the cherry king?”

jimin smiles, leaning to your couch with his arms relaxed

“we did secret santa for christmas at our frat house. taehyung thought it would be nice if he pranked me by gifting me a jar full of cherries, but i thought that was his actual gift, and i liked it to the point that i finished it in one sitting.”

tHAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY ENDEARING

cute, even

“ask me why i came out of seri’s apartment last week.”

oh that’s.,.,. that’s a bit higher in level compared to nicknames

“why did you come out of seri’s apartment last week?”

“because seri’s the ex-girlfriend of hoseok, my frat brother, and he wanted me to return all her stuff because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his cheating ex.”

well that was definitely weighted

jimin plays with the hem of his shirt, the words tumbling out of his mouth

“ask me why i love you.”

why do you wHAT

your mouth drops open, the new position you took on the other end of the couch taking an impact on him

“w-why do you love me?”

jimin’s a lot of things but he’s not drunk tonight

he doesn’t know why he’s letting his feelings slip either, but it’s the bottomless need that he feels when he’s around you

“i feel wanted. i feel needed.”

he smiles cheerfully even if he feels shy dropping this on you all of a sudden

“not sure if you want me nor need me, but i feel welcome with you if that makes sense.”

“you just make me feel loved, i guess.”

jimin looks at you for the first time since he’s opened his mouth, an equally fond look on your face

you said no words but what jimin receives is a gentle tug, your hand on the side of his face until he’s leaning on your shoulder

“i wanna know what's up there.”

he points a finger to your temple, an amused lilt to his tone, “surprise me.”

it’s an unfolding of things that was weeks in the making but months in developing, the distant glances leading you to recognize jimin in the shop in the first place

“i feel the exact same with you,” you answer honestly and it makes his laugh from his chest, his cheeks warm and his heart content

and you just wanna suspend yourselves in this moment forever

“oh! and if i were to lose my virginity to anyone at the moment, it'd be you!!”

...

....

jimin swats at your shoulder to which you only giggle at, a toothy smile on display as this is the warmest he’s ever felt

“i wasn’t kidding!!!”

you yawn when you defend yourself, predicting that you’d fall asleep sooner or later on the couch, but for the time-being, you just stroke jimin’s hair to soothe the both of you

jimin is now the furthest thing from sleepy

"what? you told me to surprise you!!"

425 notes · View notes

red-jaebyrd · 3 years ago

Text

She Made Everything Better

Summary: Dick has his first cold since moving into the Manor with Bruce. All he wants is the one person he can’t have – his mom. Bruce does his best to fill the void as well as helping an ill and still grieving boy find safety and security in his new guardian.

For @ckbookish

There are many things that Bruce wasn’t prepared for when he took in 8 year old Dick Grayson. Little things like enforcing bedtimes and daily baths; to big things like no swimming in the pool alone and making sure Dick stayed off the front foyer chandelier…or any chandelier in the Manor. The other was taking care of a sick child.

Dick had only been living in the Manor for six months and had yet to come down with any kind of illness. Considering all the stories Bruce had been told by well-meaning co-workers of their kids coming home frequently with colds; he considered himself fortunate that Dick had remained cold-free.

Until one morning when he could hear faint coughing coming from the bedroom down the hall.

“Bruce,” Dick cried, dragging out his name followed by a series of more wet coughs.

Oh no, Bruce thought to himself. Those coughs didn’t sound good at all. He followed the cry and coughs to Dick’s room and saw the boy laying down on his bed bundled in blankets and surrounded by discarded tissues. His cheeks were flushed, his nose was red, and eyes were glassy.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” Bruce asked, sitting on the edge of Dick’s bed.

“My head hurts, my nose won’t stop running, and I’m coughing,” Dick answered, pulling his blankets up to his chin.

Bruce quickly went through a mental checklist of what the boy might need while dealing with a cold. By the looks of the boy’s flushed cheeks, he likely had a fever. What was that saying, ‘feed a cold, starve a fever’; that didn’t sound right to Bruce.

Dick coughed and then groaned, snapping Bruce out of his thoughts.

“Why don’t you drink some water. It’s important to stay hydrated,” Bruce suggested, walking over to Dick’s nightstand and handing him his water bottle.

“No,” Dick whined with a pout pushing the water bottle away. “Water tastes gross, and it hurts when I swallow.”

“Understood,” Bruce said, a bit bewildered by Dick’s whining. Set the water bottle back onto the nightstand. He sat on the bed in front of Dick reaching to feel Dick’s forehead with the front of his wrist. Dick shivered at the contact. “You feel warmer than usual. I’ll be right back with a thermometer.”

“No,” Dick moaned, reaching his hand out for Bruce from under his blankets. “Don’t leave me.”

“I know you’re feeling bad, Chum, but I need to get a thermometer to see if you have a fever,” Bruce soothed, sweeping Dick’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. He smiled, taking Dick’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I’m not leaving I’m just going to your bathroom to get the thermometer.

Bruce walked toward the en-suite bathroom in search of the thermometer but came up empty. He searched all the cabinets, and they didn’t even have any children’s medicine, just polysporin, hospital grade antiseptic and, tons of band-aids. Bruce could have sworn they had children’s Motrin, but sadly there was none.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back,” Bruce said, closing the bathroom door and making his way toward the bedroom door.

“No, don’t leave,” Dick pleaded, reaching out frantically to Bruce this time with both hands. His eyes welled up with unshed tears. Bruce shoulders slumped and he sat down one the bed again, taking Dick’s cold hand in his and rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

Bruce furrowed his brow in concern at Dick’s behavior. It was extremely unusual for Dick to be this clingy and demanding when it came to Bruce. The two did spend more time together now that Bruce had changed his schedule a few months ago. Dick did like to seek attention from his guardian in the most heart stopping ways imaginable. Bruce quickly recalled the first and last time Dick backflipped off the second landing stairs nearly giving Bruce and Alfred a heart attack.

As Bruce had gotten to know Dick, he had learned that the boy liked being with people; liked spending time with Bruce and once Dick had got his fill of ‘peopling’, he’d be off outside or in his room playing alone. The boy liked attention, but he was far from clingy.

“Dick, I’m not leaving. I’m just heading to the intercom near the door to speak to Alfred,” Bruce explained, using his free hand to gently card his fingers through Dick’s hair and resting his hand on the boy’s cheek. “I’m not leaving.”

“Okay,” Dick sniffed, letting go of Bruce’s hand to rub his face with his blanket.

Bruce wrinkled his nose and handed Dick a fresh tissue from the discarded box on his bed. He then headed to the intercom near Dick’s bedroom door and pressed the button hoping Alfred was still in the kitchen.

“Alfred, I need a thermometer. Can you bring one to Dick’s bedroom, please.”

“Right away, Sir,” Alfred answered promptly.

Bruce turned and gave Dick a small smile, but the gesture wasn’t returned. He expected as much considering how poorly the boy felt. It warmed Bruce’s heart to know that Dick found security and safety in his presence. A little hand reached out to him from under the blankets. It made Bruce chuckle, so he made his way back to the bed and sat down taking Dick’s hand. Dick slouched low against his pillows blinking tiredly at Bruce.

“I wasn’t going to leave you. I told you I wasn’t,” Bruce reassured, trying to tuck Dick’s duvet around him with one hand and failing. Dick let go so Bruce could finish with both hands. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Just as Dick was going to answer Alfred arrived with a thermometer and a fresh box of tissues. He handed the thermometer to Bruce and set the tissue box on Dick’s nightstand. He then proceeded to collect the dirty tissues and deposit them in the trash bin.

“Will that be all, Sirs?” Alfred asked, moving the bin closer to the bed so it stayed within Dick’s reach near the nightstand.

Bruce stayed sitting on the bed and gave Alfred a rundown of all the supplies that they would need while Dick blew his nose. As usual Alfred had a pen and notepad on hand and wrote down everything.

“Anything else? Master Dick, would you like something to eat before I go?” Alfred asked, tucking the notepad and pen into his front jacket pocket.

Dick didn’t answer Alfred right away. The boy looked lost in his own thoughts, but mostly he looked tired. Poor guy, Bruce thought to himself, he must be feeling so out of it.

“Dick,” Bruce whispered, gently squeezing Dick’s hand to get his attention. Once the boy’s glassy eyes met his, Bruce took that as a sign to continue, “Are you hungry?

“Oh um –“ Dick stammered, and started playing with the hem of the duvet. “Would – would it be okay to have toast with cinnamon on top, please?”

“Certainly, young sir. I’ll get to it straight away.” Alfred replied and left the room closing the door behind him.

Bruce proceeded to take Dick’s temperature and just as he suspected after the thermometer beeped; he frowned looking at the number on the screen. Dick had a fever. Bruce was trying to remember if he should call a doctor right away or if he was supposed to wait two or three days if nothing improved. He’d likely call Leslie today just to be sure.

“Is it bad?” Dick asked, bringing the blanket up to his eyes.

“Well, it’s not good, 102.2, buddy. We’ll keep an eye on it. Make sure it goes down with meds. If not, I’ll have to call Dr Thompkins,” Bruce clarified, turning the thermometer off and setting it on the nightstand. “So cinnamon toast?”

“Mom would always give it to me whenever I got sick,” Dick swallowed thickly, looking down at his blankets. “She – she said the cinnamon had healing properties that would help make me feel better.”

“I’m sure it did,” Bruce said, brushing Dick’s bangs away from his face. “Moms are good like that aren’t they?”

Bruce tried to give Dick a smile, but it felt stiff on his face as he fought against the lump forming in his throat at the memory of his mom making him chicken noodle soup whenever he got a cold. He remembered loving the noodles and the broth but like all kids his age, Bruce hated the chicken and veggies. Over the years the soup was something that Alfred had tried to replicate, but to no avail. It just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t his mom’s soup.

“My mom would –,” Bruce sniffed and then cleared his throat, but before he could finish his sentence; Dick’s face crumpled, and he started sobbing.

In the short time that Dick had been staying at the Manor, he had only cried a handful of times. Even after a nightmare, tears spilled down silently. Dick was always quick to wipe the tears away before Bruce could fully envelop him in a hug. Always pulling away from the embrace claiming he was fine as the tears continued to fall down his cheeks. Bruce had never pressed as he never felt he had the right words to say. Because ‘I know how you feel’ and ‘I’ve been there too’ didn’t really seem like great words of comfort.

But maybe they were the exact words that Dick needed to hear.

“Oh Dickie, come here,” Bruce offered, his arms outstretched and his own eyes filling with unshed tears. He gathered Dick in his arms and settled him on his lap. The boy practically melted into his embrace.

“I don’t feel good, Bruce,” Dick bawled, his breaths hitching from crying so hard. “I want – I want my mom.

The last sentence was said in a whisper in between sobs. Dick’s fingers tightened as he clung onto Bruce in a desperate hug.

“I m-miss her,” Dick mumbled, trying to catch his breath and failing. “I miss how – how she made everything better.”

Bruce’s heart sank; his own tears finally falling down his cheeks. She made everything better. It echoed in brain and he couldn’t deny that the boy was right. Of course, Dick missed his mom; it made sense that he missed her. Every child who felt ill wanted their mom to be the one holding them, taking care of them, and making their favorite comfort foods; not some stranger they’ve barely known for six months.

He hugged Dick a little tighter and sighed. They had come a long way these past six months, dealing with Dick’s anger and trust issues that had only been fueled by Bruce’s incompetence and neglect in the guise of protection. While necessary changes to his schedule were made to fit Dick into his busy life and it had changed the dynamic in how they interacted with each other; the change still didn’t do much to help Dick feel safe enough to talk to Bruce about the loss of his parents. Until now, so naturally Bruce took advantage of a missed opportunity.

“I know you do. I know you miss her so much and I’m so sorry,” Bruce empathized, resting his cheek on the Dick’s head and rubbing small circles on his back. “I know – I know how you feel, chum. I really do. I’ve been where you are and it – well it sucks.”

Dick nodded in silent agreement and continued to cry.

“I know it feels like – it feels like the pain is so much bigger than you, but one day it won’t feel so big and overwhelming,” Bruce comforted, wiping away his own tears with his free hand. “And – and while the hurt won’t go away completely. It will get better in time. For you, that I promise.”

Bruce continued to hold Dick as his body calmed from his crying jag. The boy’s breaths slowly regulating from shuddering gasps to hiccups. Bruce was happy to finally be able to provide such comfort to Dick after so many months of him pushing him away. His feelings were never hurt from the boy’s rejection, Bruce understood firsthand that type of vulnerability and transparency in grief can be scary, especially in an unknown environment.

He had hoped that their conversation today would help pave the way to more talks and further healing for Dick. Bruce was confident the boy would be alright, but these difficult conversations had to be something that Bruce initiated and participated in as well.

“Any time you want to talk ab out your mom or your dad; come find me, okay?” Bruce offered, giving Dick a reassuring smile. He wiped away Dick’s remaining tears with his thumb. “Even if it’s in the middle of night. Understand?”

Dick nodded, his breaths finally evening out.

They sat on the bed in companionable silence. Bruce hummed a tune he remembered his mom singing whenever she was knitting or just needed to fill the silence. He could slowly start to feel Dick’s body going boneless against his chest with exhaustion; his breaths gradually getting deeper with sleep.

Just as Bruce was about to close his eyes a knock on the door startled him and woke up Dick.

“Here is your toast, Master Dick,” Alfred announced, setting a tray on the other side of the bed. “I also added a few digestives and the last juice box until I can get the apple juice you requested.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick sniffed, still clinging onto Bruce.

Bruce brought the tray closer to Dick so the boy wouldn’t have to move from his place of comfort.

“You are very welcome, young sir. If there is nothing else you require of me, I shall leave to retrieve the necessary items.”

An hour later, once Alfred returned with the medicine, Bruce was pleased to finally be able to give the boy some much needed relief from the headache and congestion. Dick still wouldn’t let Bruce leave, so Bruce suggested they move to the media room to watch a movie.

Bruce covered them with a blanket thin enough to make Dick comfortable, but not too thick to spike his fever. Dick settled himself right up against Bruce’s side, draping a thin arm around him and using Bruce’s chest as a pillow. Dick fell asleep ten minutes into the movie. Bruce stayed watching the rest of the movie, carding his fingers gently though Dick’s hair relishing the closeness and comfort he was finally able to provide his hurting foster son.

159 notes · View notes

frenchpuppycormier · 3 years ago

Note

fluff 10 and/or 11 + supercorp for the sentence starters pls 💞

"Are we on a date right now?" / "I think I'm in love with you."

—

Saturday signals the best day in Kara's book for one simple reason: the farmers market. It's the perfect place to buy fresh produce directly from the grower at a lower price than those pesky retailers. Not to mention, it's fresher and it's a great way to support local communities.

Kara enjoys it most in the early morning between 8 and 9 when the California heat hasn't bombarded its citizens yet. One of her favorite memories of going to the market was when she first arrived on earth, and Eliza and Alex took her to the one in Midvale. Eliza bought her the sweetest miniature doughnuts which practically melted in her mouth. She's been a huge (understatement of the year) fan ever since.

The farmers market is located 20 blocks from her apartment, just a short jaunt or flight for the hero.

Today she decides to walk and enjoy the nice cool breeze, and the warm sun spilling on her face. She can already hear the acoustics of a folk band covering a Fleetwood Mac song at the end of main street. The leaves are starting to change, indicating the beginning of fall, and the ones already on the ground crunch beneath her feet.

Her reusable cloth bag with the words, "Okey Dokey Artichokey" and a cartoon artichoke with a smiley face and tiny stick arms, is slung over her shoulder. Lena had given it to her as a gag gift, but Kara uses it the most out of all her bags. Any gift from Lena is special and she will always treasure it.

As she rounds the corner to the market, she sneaks another look at her list to remind herself what she needs, when she bumps into someone. Hard. Fortunately, Kara manages to grab the other person's arm before they fall.

"Oh my gosh," Kara cringes. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was—" she interrupts herself when she sees, "Lena?"

"Hey there, slick," Lena laughs and nudges the hand latched on her arm to tangle with her fingers.

Kara responds by swinging their arms back and forth, like what friends do when they haven't seen each other in months. But Kara and Lena just saw each other yesterday. This is normal, right? Kara thinks. The fluttering in my chest is completely common whenever I see my friends....Right?

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Kara speaks before her brain can catch up with her.

Lena's face lights up with a sly grin. "Can't a woman go to the market every once in a while?"

"N-no no, of course you can," Kara laughs awkwardly, "I meant, gosh I'm not sure...I guess I just didn't expect to see you here. You live all the way on the other side of town."

"Relax, love," she chuckles and squeezes her hand and releases it, Kara immediately missing the warmth. "I'm teasing you. But to answer your question, I'm in desperate need of fresh kale, and I heard this particular stand has the best in the city."

Kara feigns gagging and Lena playfully shoves her shoulder. “I still don’t understand how you can eat that stuff.”

“Who knew the green stuff that incapacitates you was kale.”

“More like your eyes,” Kara mumbles.

“What was that?”

Kara’s eyes widen. “N-nothing,” she rubs the back of her neck. “Um, so….do you care if I join you? Wandering aimlessly through the market checking out food stands with my best friend sounds like the perfect way to spend my Saturday morning.”

“I’d love nothing more,” Lena replies, smiling brightly.

—

“Oooh, look! A food truck!” Kara points.

Lena laughs at her zeal. “Let’s see what they have.”

Kara reaches for her hand and twines their fingers together before dragging her toward the truck. Lena’s stomach swoops at the action, but she calms herself down enough so Kara doesn’t notice her rapid heartbeat. Not that she would, considering food is the best distraction when it comes to the blonde.

Little does Lena know that nothing can distract Kara from Lena, especially considering 98% of the time Kara is listening to the constant thumps and quivers of Lena’s heart, but Kara doesn’t say anything.

Kara looks up at the man in the truck and politely rattles off her order, then looks at Lena and asks, “What do you want?”

“Um,” Lena quickly glances at the menu and says, “I’ll have the Avo Smash, please.” She moves to hand the man cash, but Kara stops her and insists she'll pay for it. "My treat."

Once they give their order they move to the side and wait until their names are called.

When they get their food they move to a shady spot on the sidewalk and admire how delicious it looks.

“What’s that?” Kara asks.

“Oh, it’s a piece of toast with smashed avocado, egg, and tomato,” Lena replies, noticing how Kara turns up her nose. Lena rolls her eyes and gestures at her hands, “What’d you get?”

"Uh, only the most scrumptious and melt in your mouth-watering food you can get here," she replies, eyebrows pinched, incredulously. Lena raises her eyebrows in a get-on-with-it kind of way. "French toast bites," Kara finishes, exasperated at Lena's lack of enthusiasm.

"Sweet food for a sweet girl."

Kara's cheeks grow a slight pink. Instead of replying, she dips a piece of her toast in the syrup, and shoves the whole thing in her mouth. Lena simply hums and takes a bit of her own food. Kara smiles like a chipmunk with cheeks full of goodies.

When Lena's finished with her slice of hipster toast, as Kara calls it, a small body runs into her legs from behind. She looks down and finds a small boy with sandy blonde hair and big, blue eyes looking up at her with a toothy grin.

"Hi, there," she smiles at him.

"Henry!" a woman in a flowy maxi dress and brown sandals comes running toward them. She picks him up and gives him a stern look. "I told you not to run off like that!" The woman adjusts him on her hip and shyly realizes she has an audience. "I'm so sorry! He gets too excited about their french toast."

"Oh, no worries," Lena reassures her. She carefully grabs Kara's elbow and says, "This one does too."

Kara acts hurt by placing a hand over her heart. "Well, can you blame me? They're delicious! Aren't they?" she smiles at the boy and waves. He giggles and hides his face in his mother's neck. "Someone's a little shy, huh?"

"He is, isn't he?" the mom kisses his cheek. "I think he has a little crush on you."

"Who, me?" Kara laughs. "No, I think he has eyes for Lena. As most people do." She steps forward and tickles his stomach so he looks at her. Kara holds out her hand for a high five and whispers, "Good choice." He gratefully slaps her hand.

When Kara steps back, Lena is blushing, but rather than call her out on it she ignores it out of respect. Kara smiles at her and Lena smiles back, but then she's suddenly laughing through her nose.

"Darling, you have a little," she gestures at her own face.

"What? I have something on my face?" Kara touches her cheek, but completely misses.

"Here," Lena's fingers tenderly touch the side of her jaw while her thumb swipes her lip. Lena's completely focused on what she's doing, but Kara only has eyes for Lena.

Lena pulls back her hand, thumb now sticky with syrup. Instead of wiping it on the napkin Kara knows Lena has in her bag, she sticks it between her lips and licks it clean.

Kara completely stops breathing.

"How long have you two been together?" a voice snaps her out of her reverie.

Kara gapes at her with wide eyes and stutters, "Um...we, we're uh, just friends."

"Oh," the woman almost looks upset. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to presume. Well, I'll let you get back to your morning." She smiles at them and walks away, leaving a flabbergasted Kara and quiet Lena.

They don't say anything and choose to ignore it while they continue down the street.

—

"Lena, you have to try this," Kara doesn't give her a chance to respond before shoving a spoonful of gelato in Lena's mouth.

Lena gasps and nearly chokes on the ice cold dessert enveloping her tastebuds. She hisses and nods, as she lifts her hand to hastily catch the dribbles of melted chocolate trickling down her chin. Kara winces, "I'm so sorry!"

"No," Lena shakes her head as she swallows, "I just wasn't expecting that."

"Well? How was it?"

"Y'know, I'm not gonna lie...it was pretty fucking delicious."

"Right? Marco really knows his stuff."

"Um," Lena holds her hand out, fingers spread apart to prevent more sticking, and shakes it like she doesn't know what to do.

Kara jumps to action and runs off. She's back in two seconds with a wet wipe and cleans Lena's hand. "Where'd you find that?"

"Don't ask."

"Okay?" Lena laughs breathily. "You're a mystery wrapped inside an enigma, Ms. Danvers."

"I aim to confuse," she jokes.

Lena shakes her head, and eventually says, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Kara smiles at her, their eyes locked onto each other. She's finished cleaning her hand, but rather than letting go, her hand stays curled around Lena's, not wanting to ruin the moment.

—

“Oh Rao, you didn’t,” Kara gasps.

Lena turns around and frowns at her. “What?” Kara gestures to Lena’s bag. Lena looks down and chuckles when she realizes what she’s talking about. “In my defense, I was drunk. You know how my shopping brain acts when I’m drunk; I buy things I don’t need.”

“Hmmm, well maybe your alcohol-addled brain just remembered how funny I thought it was and wanted to impress me,” Kara teases with a twitch of her eyebrow.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what happened,” Lena deadpans. She glanced at the words on her bag again and fondly shakes her head. It reads: Oh Kale Yeah, with a bunch of kale on both sides.

“I think so,” Kara steps closer and smiles.

“Oh, really?” Lena raises her eyebrows.

“Yep,” she ends with an extra pop of the ‘p’ and boops her on the nose.

Lena opens her mouth in surprise, a protest on the tip of her tongue, but a voice interrupts her from in front of them.

“You two are such a lovely couple,” the vendor gushes.

Lena and Kara startle, forgetting they’re standing right in front of a stand selling various vegetables and fruits and jars of honey. Behind the table is an older woman, most likely in her late 70s, with streaks of gray hair, crinkly eyes and facial lines as if she’s smiled her whole life.

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you,” Kara answers, smiling bashfully. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and says, “I’ll take one bunch of radishes and one spaghetti squash.”

“Coming right up,” the woman replies.

Kara glances over at Lena and gives her a shy smile, before handing the woman a $10 bill and thanking her. She grabs the veggies and carefully drops them in her bag.

“Thank you two, have a wonderful day.”

“Of course, you too!” Kara places her hand on the small of Lena’s back and guides her forward.

As they make their way to the next stand, Kara laughs, remembering their conversation, “I can’t believe you bought that bag. You’re such a giant dork.”

Lena whips around and eyes Kara curiously. Kara’s hand shifts from her back to loosely rest on her waist. Lena’s eyes are squinting from the bright sun, but Kara can see the speckles of gold in them and thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

“Are we on a date right now?”

Kara's heart quickens and she opens and closes her mouth a few times, until finally she clears her throat, "Did you want it to be?"

"I thought—”

"Because I do," Kara states. "Want it to be a date. But only if you do, of course. I don't want you to feel pressured or like I forced you to hang out with me," she retracts her hand. "That's the last thing I—”

Lena grabs her hand as she pulls it way, not wanting Kara to close herself off. "Hey, I want this just as much as you do."

"Really?"

Lena lightly presses her thumb into the grooves of Kara's knuckles, and absentmindedly plays with them. She smiles, fully dimpled, and says, "I do. Actually, I uh..." she lowers their connected hands and looks off into the distance, mind seemingly elsewhere.

"What is it?" Kara asks. She playfully shakes their arms back and forth to get her attention.

Lena looks at the ground before completely focusing on Kara and those baby blues she's come to know and love. She takes a deep breath and her voice shakes when she whispers, "I think I'm in love with you..." Lena stumbles and shakes her head, "No—I am in love with you."

Kara inhales sharply and Lena thinks she's made a giant mistake. She starts to turn and do something stupid, like run away, but Kara keeps her hold on her and pulls her forward.

Smiling, Kara slowly inches closer leaving the opportunity for Lena to stop her. When Kara's lips press into hers she welcomes it completely. Kara's hands come up to cup Lena's jaw until she moves one to tangle in her hair.

Kara disconnects from her lips, but stays wrapped up in her, their foreheads touching. "I'm in love with you, too," she whispers against soft lips.

"Good," Lena smiles and kisses her again.

#this became longer than I imagined #supercorp #supercorp fic #thanks for the request dani #<3

179 notes · View notes