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vivalabunbun · 2 years ago

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Simple Wishes

Summary: He never understood humans, and by extension, he never understood you. Perhaps if he had only placed more effort into studying you as he did with the search for greater knowledge, tragedy could have been avoided. But would you still allow him to hold your hand?

Word Count: 3k

Tags: alhaitham x gn reader, deshret x gn reader, jinni!reader, past lifes, reincarnation au, angst, character death, modern au, some spoliers of genshin lore 3.2 onwards, sfw, tragedy, fluff, daughter nahida

Authors Note: This is based on the theory that alhaitham is in some way connected to king deshret, either as a reincarnation or a descendant. The reader is a jinni that understands and feels human emotions, a mirror for gods to reflect upon and cultivate more wisdom from a human prospective. Enjoy!

Upon a golden throne, imposing and all-knowing sat King Deshret. King of warriors, horticulturists, and sages. The proud and all-mighty king of the red sands. On his left, stood a Jinni, quiet and patiently waiting upon the great king and its mistress, the goddess of flowers to return from her visit to a grand friend.

The Jinn followed their mother goddess everywhere, in a trance of maddening loyalty and love. Yet here you were, far from the side of your goddess, but loyally attending to the curiosity of the great king.

Followers of the Scarlet King might be appalled by the notion that their great king, the embodiment of wisdom, would hold questions he needed another’s answers to. However, these followers never considered the simple truth.

King Deshret did not understand humans. After all, how can gods and humans truly understand each other on the same level when biologically the two were on two completely different plains?

“My dear friend, how can we have dominion over creatures whom we cannot understand? Do you find that wise?”

He remembers those words the goddess of flowers had raised him upon a peaceful afternoon. Deshret knew she was right, humans were weak compared to gods, but because they were weak they became complex. It was that unknown difference between god and humans that bred the potential for disharmony.

He supposed that was the reason your creation caused quite the commotion among the three friends and Jinn.

For upon your birth from the nilotpala lotuses at the feet of your mistress, you wept. Your fresh eyes overflowing with tears from the moment they opened, stunning the Jinn and the goddess of flowers. You, who was born with the body of an adult, wept like a human newborn who cried from the violent impact of emotions that welcomed them into the world.

Upon this revelation, your mistress knelt down to cup your face in her hands, eyes wide with astonishment and jaw slacked.

“You… you can feel human emotions…” Her warm fingers brushed the tears off your soft cheeks.

From that moment onwards you served a crucial role to the three lords of the alliance kingdoms, you were their mirror to the human heart. When the gods found themselves stumped upon a human concept, you were there to explain. Hate, love, grief, you told them everything the human heart held, reflecting your felt wisdom upon them.

However, of the three gods, it was King Deshret who had the least understanding of the human heart. Perhaps that was why the goddess of flowers had stationed you to the left of the king. To answer his inquiries about those weak complex creatures.

Gazing upon the hologram manifested in front of him, Deshret watched the day-to-day bustle of the humans in his kingdom. While the king did not understand humans, he understood that they were his responsibility to look after, protect, and care for.

He watched as a laborer, skin tanned from moving heavy bricks in the unforgiving sun, rushed towards the figure of a woman with calloused hands, from weaving cloth all day, which held a basket of fruits and bread. The exhaustion disappeared from the man’s face as he greeted the woman, her face turning tender in return as she gestured to the basket.

A smile broke through the hardened face of the large man upon seeing the basket, he reached for her hand and she intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked together as one.

A crease appeared between the brows of the king, as he gestured with a flick of his wrist for you to approach closer.

“Tell me Jinni, what troubles are plaguing my kingdom so much that a man is moved to joy over the simple sight of bread and fruit? Have the harvest this year been lacking? Have there been less gold for the common people?” He inquired.

You turned your eyes away from the hologram and towards your lord.

“No, they were simply happy to see each other, my lord.”

The lazy glance Deshret cast your way told you that he still did not understand, so you continued.

“The man was overjoyed to see that the woman he loves had remembered which fruits and breads he favored, and she was happy that she made him happy.”

“That was all? That simple?” His teal eyes questioning.

“Yes, it is the small actions that mean the most.” You offered him a reassuring smile.

Your answer only sought to confuse him further, this was why Deshret believed he could never understand humans. How could mere mortals experience more joy from being gifted a piece of bread, than he had from having miles of silk, baskets of gold, and fertile lands placed at the feet of his grand throne?

As the king walked along the paved paths in his palace gardens, four guards by his side in each cardinal direction, and you behind and to the left of him. His grand strides brought about an air of power and confidence as the linen flowed about his figure.

The marching of the guards and their golden armor contrasted by the jingle of bells that hung from your ankles filled the void of silence. Then along the path almost hidden by the tall flowers, sat a young boy, who had not reached the age to develop words, babbling to himself as he waved a stick in his chubby hands. Suddenly the child halted all movement, seemingly staring at nothing in particular, it was as if he had turned to stone.

Deshret paused his movement, and in sync the king’s entourage halted in their positions. He wanted to see just what would happen next with this child. It was faint at first, a shaky breath then a low whimpered followed until at last the child opened his mouth and let out a great wail. The child’s plump cheeks were wet as they began to get flushed with a hue of red, the cries his small body released straining against his lungs.

A leaf that had detached from a branch had yet to hit the ground when the figure of a place servant dashed from behind a corner. The servant dove to her knees as she brought the child into her arms, cooing and bouncing him against her chest, paying no heed to the dirt staining her white linen dress. The child had dropped his stick as he grasped tiny handfuls of his mother's dress, muffling his cries as he pressed his face into her. The servant continued to bounce him as his breathing grew calmer, it was then that the servant noticed the presence of the great king.

In a panic the servant raised to her feet, the child still tightly clutched in her arms, as she bowed deeply begging the king to forgive her for her insolence.

“Shall I throw her into the dungeons for trespassing in the private gardens?” A guard asked.

“There is no need,” Deshret waved her away.

Thanking the king profusely for his mercy, the servant rushed to get out of his sight, cradling her child protectively. With a flick of his wrist, he called you to his side once more.

“Why did the child wail so sadly?” His eyes still lingering at the corner the servant disappeared behind.

“His small body was overwhelmed by emotions, my lord.”

“Have I frightened the child?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “He cried because he was overwhelmed by loneliness and the feeling of the unknown. The child cannot form words yet, thus he cannot match words to his emotions. So he cried for his mother, for he knows she will soothe the prickling feeling of frustration.”

Deshret paused as he thought for a moment. The guards standing still at their positions around their king.

“Was that how you felt back then?” He was referring to the moment you took your first breath.

“Yes, my lord.” Your eyes twinkled with a smile, joy felt from your lord’s surmise.

Dawning a cloak that hid his grand stature and identity, King Deshret strolled among the streets of his kingdom. Every once in a while he believed that it was crucial for a ruler to walk in the footsteps of his people, to examine the condition of his kingdom from beyond his golden throne. He had even requested that you remove the bells from your ankles to not draw attention as you trailed behind him.

He walked through the crowded marketplace of hollering merchants and haggling customers trying to get the best prices, you making care to not stray too far from his left. As the edge of the market came the concentration of the crowd diminished, and he felt a bit more relaxed.

He gazed curiously back into the denser crowd, observing the ever-changing expressions on the people’s faces. Suddenly, a large figure pushed the sea of people, hollering like an animal in pain.

“Help! A doctor! Someone get me a doctor! My daughter! Please! My daughter!”

In the scarred arms of the warrior lay the limp body of a young girl, not a day past the age of seven. As the crowd cleared out of his way, one hundred pairs of eyes focused their attention on the shouting warrior. His scarred face looked through the crowd for someone to save his child, being met with one hundred pitiful looks.

“Anyone? Please! Call a doctor! Please save my daughter!”

A thin man raised his hand as he maneuvered his body through the gaps in the crowd, stopping in front of the towering man. The thin man reached his hand towards the neck of the limp girl, eyes meeting the father’s as if asking for silent permission. The scarred man gave a quick nod, eyes filled with desperate hope. The doctor held two thin fingers against the cold neck of the girl, searching diligently for a pulse, for a singular proof of life. Instead, he was met with stiff, cold flesh. Removing his hand, he pressed his lips into a thin line before looking back at the scarred man’s face.

“I am sorry, your daughter is already started her journey into Duat (the realm of the dead).”

“No… no, no, no, no, please! Please tell me it’s not too late! She can be saved no?” The desperate father harshly clasped a hand on the doctor’s shoulder, shaking the thin man.

The doctor could only silently shake his head. The man’s eyes wide with despair then narrowed with rage, then as his facial expression relaxed a hollow void began to fill his eyes. Sinking to the sandy path arms clutching around the husk that once was a bundle of joy, the warrior who had faced countless battles, as shown by the marks all along his body, wept pitifully. Around him slowly, the crowd began to move once again, tearing their eyes away from the scene as if to give the father a semblance of privacy.

King Deshret flicked his wrist, calling you to his side. He felt no movement, confused he turned towards you, only to see your sobbing eyes still pinned on the scene in front of you. A pained expression tugged down at the corners of your lips that usually held a small smile.

“Why do you weep, Jinni?”

“I weep for the father whose daughter, death had snatched too soon from his arms.” Your voice low like a hush.

“Why do you weep for him?”

“Because he is in pain, a child torn away from their parent opens a wound in the heart.”

“The man is a strong warrior, he can sire another child. There is no need to weep for a child that could not survive.”

“My lord, a child can never be replaced, she will never go back to her father’s arms. A broken pot can be remade, moldy bread can be thrown out, but a dead flower can never bloom again.” Your eyes never left the figure of the mourning father, tears continuing to darken the stones on the path.

Deshret opened his mouth ready to inquire more but then shut it just as quickly. He sensed that inquiring more would only cause the tears to flow heavier.

He never understood humans, and by extension, he never understood you.

Perhaps if he had only placed more effort into studying you as he did with the search for greater knowledge, tragedy could have been avoided.

“My lord, I beg of you to stop. This path you walk will only bring about more pain. My mistress, the goddess of flowers, has left this world. To ignore the truth while in search of knowledge forbidden will cause ruin.” You gripped onto the linen that pooled at his feet as you pleaded on your knees with the mourning king.

“... Leave this palace, foolish Jinni.” Those were the last words he ever spoke to you.

Yes, that was the word, foolish. That word does not describe you, no, it described him. A foolish king that did not understand his own heart. Foolish king that gambled everything and lost. His kingdom and riches shallowed by the raging sand storms, his people poisoned with madness (forbidden knowledge) by his own hands, and the once proud and all-mighty king no longer even had a physical body.

It was quiet in the temple where King Deshret hovered, he already knew what must be done to save his people, to save his people from himself as the forbidden knowledge pulsed like poison through his conscious.

“We meet once more, my lord.” You stepped in front of him.

He thought he would never see you again after he casted you out of the palace, your appearance stayed faithfully to how he remembered. But you were a bit more haggard, hands more collapsed, skin duller. You must have been exhausting your powers to try to mitigate the madness that plagued the humans you loved so much. Despite the fact you barely had the power to maintain your physical form, your eyes still twinkled as you called out to him.

“I shall aid you, my lord. I will be the vessel for your sacrifice.”

This means you were prepared to die alongside him, he knew it, and you knew it too. Mutually understanding that a great sacrifice was required for a chance of survival for the people of the red sand. Outstretching your hands to the star-like manifestation of Deshret, you signaled that you were ready. He slowly descended into your cupped palms, as a pure light began to engulf the room and your figures.

He no longer had arms to hold you, even though he deeply wished to. As he felt his essence and yours slowly began to break apart into dust like sand, a fleeting thought passed through his mind, brought up by a scene he had witnessed many years ago with you.

In a different time,

a different place,

a different world…

Could he hold your hand while you walk together as one?

...

“....er”

“.....tham?”

“Alhaitham!”

His teal eyes snapped open, meeting yours as you stood in the doorway of his home office. Concern was written clearly on your expression, he must have dozed off while he was translating the text that was half finished on his desk.

“What’s wrong dear?” You moved closer, pressing your palm against his forehead feeling for signs of a fever.

Nahida was held snuggly in your other arm as her green eyes observed her father’s face, aranara doll dangling loosely in her grip.

“Is papa sick?” Nahida questioned, beginning to stir in your arms.

Words just would not form from his throat as he continued to stare into your eyes, his usually stoic face was replaced with a dumbstruck expression. Which only concerned you further, he observed as your brow began to furrow more, palms shifting trying to get a better gauge of his temperature.

“Haitham, are you unwell? If so you should rest, me and Nahida can do the grocery shopping by ourselves.”

No, he did not want you to leave his side, at that moment he never again want to be apart from you. He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, removing it from his forehead as he stood up.

“There is no need for such concern, I was just distracted, beloved.” He took Nahida from your arm and into his, shifting her into a secure hold.

“Papa is healthy, now let us get the groceries before the market closes.”

He heard you sigh, muttering something about how you worried that your husband was over-working himself. A silly concern, as if there was one thing he treasured close to the level of you and his daughter, it would be a healthy work-life balance.

During the whole trip to the grocery store, Alhaitham was still a bit lost in thought. Movements a bit more relaxed and absent-minded than usual, Nahida still being carried in his arm as you pushed the cart. He found his eyes trailing towards the shiny wedding ring on your finger, with an emerald gem that matched the one present on his finger as well.

You had stopped in front of the display of fruits, concentrating on which fruit was the ripest and how to get the most value out of your money. Alhaitham found his hand itching to reach for yours, he did not try to suppress that desire. Allowing his hand to intertwine his long fingers with yours, wedding rings clinking together.

A look of surprise appeared on your face as you turned toward your ashen-haired lover. He was never really one for public displays of affection, so he could not fault you for your confusion, but he felt a smile tug at his lips as you accepted his actions with no further questioning. Returning your attention back to the piles of fruit waiting for your judgment.

Alhaitham felt at peace standing hand in hand with you under the fluorescent lights, as the sounds of other shoppers blended with the soft pop music from the store speakers.

A simple wish had been fulfilled.

“Oh! This orange looks quite nice doesn’t it?”

“It is starting to mold on the underside.”

“Eh?-”

fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #alhaitham x yn #vivalabunbunfics

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mcverse · 2 years ago

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ꨄ︎ Paring: Rotxo x Adopted! Sully! GN Reader

ꨄ︎ Requested: Yes/No

ꨄ︎ Type: One Shot

ꨄ︎ Word count: 4.8K

ꨄ︎ Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, requited love, mention of you. Not really mentions of reader being female so I changed it to gn. Safe for 17+ to read. Not proof read, possible spelling mistakes.

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+

How can one miss someone who was never theirs to begin with?

Perhaps you played yourself, allowing a delusional desire to take root, hoping against all odds that he could be yours. Lost in a dense fog of denial, you knew deep down that this kind of love was never meant for you—that it wasn't directed your way.

Ever since you and your adoptive family arrived in Awa'atlu for uturu, you have all been in the spotlight, but some receive more attention than others. Sadly, the attention you crave the most is effortlessly bestowed upon your sister. His oceanic eyes gaze at her with the intensity you wish he would reserve for you, overflowing with adoration and admiration. It feels almost criminal to witness someone being worshipped so deeply, while she remains completely oblivious to his love.

How can you ever find the words to tell him that every night, as you lay beneath the sky's embrace, peering through the cracks in the mauri, your thoughts are consumed by him? With each star you count, you offer silent prayers, hoping that a shooting star from the tales of old tawtute will streak across the heavens, allowing you to make a wish, fully aware that it will revolve around him.

He was the sun that illuminated your days when they felt impossibly dim just by a smile sent your way, and you were the moon, forever drawn to his orbit, seeking a place in his world. The farther he seemed, the closer you yearned to be, until the yearning became insatiable. You craved his warmth, his light, wanting nothing more than to bask in his radiance. Your existence revolved around him, and with every passing day, the desire to bridge the gap grew stronger. Closer and closer you wanted to get, until the closeness became enough, until only your love for him was enough.

You're unsure how you came to love him so deeply, and it pains you to part ways even briefly. Eywa herself knows the internal struggle you endure when you watch him fade into the distance, vanishing without another word, with your concealed emotions left unspoken.

He was kind, supportive, and courageous—a formidable warrior among the people, a remarkable friend within your youthful circle, and a well-suited potential partner. You wish you could rid yourself of your feelings for him, much like the way he yearns for your sister, but his qualities are impossible to overlook.

Your heart tightens each time you witness him trailing behind her, wearing the most beautiful and genuine smile, calling out her name in gleeful laughter, "Kiri! Where are you headed?" as he dutifully follows her, unaware of the effect it has on you. He would likely follow her to the ends of the earth, and you’ll understand because you’ll do the same.

You often found yourself lost in a tumultuous sea of thoughts, seeking solace by the ocean's edge, far removed from prying eyes. The weight of your emotions became overwhelming, making it agonizingly difficult to confide in someone, fearing their judgment and the damning label of selfishness.

Yet, can it truly be branded as selfish when it's painfully evident that Rotxo yearns to court her, while she remains oblivious or so it seems? What if she truly knows and deliberately keeps him dangling on a string?

Great Mother, your love for your sister burns with an intensity that knows no bounds, but does she truly grasp the power she holds—the power to choose between two hearts held tenderly within her hands? The weight of that choice is immense, leaving you in a state of anguished uncertainty and bittersweet longing.

Then, whether through a twist of destiny or the compassion of Eywa, Rotxo mustered the courage one day to reveal his feelings to Kiri. To your surprise, she was completely unaware of his intentions, blissfully ignorant of his affection towards her. It seemed her attention was focused on another, a fellow female Na'vi within the village. How Rotxo missed that detail remained a mystery, but he wasn't the only one caught off guard. The news reached your ears when Kiri returned home, her expression filled with solemnity.

At first, you struggle to contain your bubbling excitement. It felt like Rotxo was finally free, and a glimmer of hope sparked within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something between you two. However, as Kiri proceeded to explain his reaction, a wave of guilt crashed over you. You realized that you had unwittingly taken his pain and transformed it into your own joy, and the weight of that realization bore down heavily upon your conscience.

That night, sleep escapes you, and you found yourself restlessly shifting in bed, tormented by thoughts of Rotxo. His once charming smile was replaced with a frown in your mind's eye. It unsettled you to the core, knowing that he was burdened with sorrow while you held onto a glimmer of hope.

Reality struck hard—you understood deep down that there was no possibility for you and him. He had just experienced rejection, and pursuing another romantic endeavor would be the least of his concerns. The gravity of this truth kept you awake, lost in contemplation throughout the night. Eventually, you abandon the pursuit of sleep and ventured to the shoreline, where you wandered along the edge of the ocean, sinking your feet into the soft sand as you sought solace in the rhythm of the waves.

Eventually you reach your usual spot, a quiet place for reflection, you freeze in your tracks. Your expectation of finding it deserted is shattered by the sound of gentle sniffles. Someone else seeks refuge there, their emotions overwhelming them too. A bittersweet warmth fills your heart, realizing that this place offers comfort and solace to others who grapple with their own feelings. Though your initial instinct is to respect their privacy and leave, your intention wavers when you hear his voice—his familiar voice that stops you in your tracks.

His voice trembles with vulnerability, as he opens up about his pain and heartache. The rawness in his words sends a surge of emotions coursing through you. You stand there, hidden from view, listening intently as he pours out his feelings. Every word he utters resonates with your own hidden desires, with the longing you've kept locked away.

An uneasy feeling begins to wash over you, as if you are trespassing on his intimate moment. You recognize that these words were never meant for your ears, that he did not willingly choose to confide in you. Caught in this dilemma, you find yourself torn between respecting his boundaries and offering a comforting presence. Yet, you cannot bear to leave him in such a vulnerable state. So, with cautious steps, you retreat to the entrance and clear your throat, hoping to make your presence known.

His glossy eyes shift in your direction, and the sight tugs at your heartstrings. It stirs within you an overwhelming urge to rush to his side, to wrap him in a warm embrace and assure him that everything will be alright. But you hold yourself back, restraining the impulse. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, your voice soft and tentative as you speak up, "I'm sorry... I don't mean to intrude, but... are you okay, Rotxo?"

His gaze lingers on you, caught off guard by your sudden presence. He takes a moment to collect himself, his voice trembling as he responds, "Not really." He lowers his gaze to the ground, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Frowning, you move closer, squatting down beside him on the ground. From this vantage point, you peer at him under your lowered lashes, your heart betraying you by racing at the proximity. You curse the timing of these feelings, fully aware that now is not the moment to indulge in personal desires. Your sole focus remains on providing comfort and support.

"Why are you crying?" you ask, although the reason is painfully obvious. You choose not to spell it out, allowing him the space to share what he wishes.

He presses his lips together, taking a slow, steadying breath before he responds, his voice barely above a whisper, his voice barely above a whisper, his body slumped with sadness.

"Kiri didn't tell you?" he murmurs, his words heavy with a mixture of pain and confusion.

Naturally, she did. She was your sister, bonded by a deep connection whether by blood or not. It was evident that the weight of her own struggles had become too much to bear alone, leading her to confide in you, and for that, you were grateful. But now is not the time to reveal that knowledge.

“No,” you furrow your brows, gulping as you consider you answer, “She didn’t. Should she have?”

Your question hangs in the air, masking the truth that you hold. You tread carefully, protecting your sister's trust while trying to offer him the support he seeks. You wait, holding your breath, aware that his answer will shape the course of this vulnerable moment between the two of you.

Finally, he breaks the stillness, his words faltering as he reveals, "I... I like Kiri..." His eyes shift away, avoiding direct contact.

You offer a subtle nod, acknowledging his admission. "I know," you respond softly, holding more understanding than he realizes.

His ears flick up before lying flat against his head, sinking his face into his hands as he groans in exasperation, "So it was obvious to everyone except her?" His eyes welling up with tears once more.

Your willpower to respect his boundaries crumbles in an instant, overridden by your overwhelming urge to provide comfort. Acting on instinct, you step into his personal space and wrap your arms around him, seeking to offer solace and support. You understand that apologies can come later; right now, all that matters is being there for him, as he has been for others in their moments of sadness.

He tenses at the unexpected contact, momentarily pausing in his sniffling. But then he returns the embrace, holding onto you tightly and burying his head in your shoulder. The wetness of his tears dampens your skin, a physical manifestation of the depth of his need for comfort, perhaps more than he even realizes.

"I'm sorry she didn't see you the way you saw her..." you murmur softly, your hand rubbing his back in a soothing motion, akin to a mother comforting her child. It feels fitting, given the sense of family that he most-likely come to associate with you.

"I feel so stupid," he whines, his eyes tightly shut as he shuffles closer, seeking more solace in your warmth. It's as if he has been deprived of it for so long, though you know that cannot be true. His parents were present. His self-blame stems solely from the rejection he has faced. "I... I should have noticed the signs... I should have."

Shaking your head softly, you offer reassurance, "She didn't give any signs. You weren't the only one who didn't know,” you pause to ponder you next words, it’ll be a risky statement given the circumstances but maybe you were selfish if you did, “Maybe if you did, you could have found someone who’d reciprocates your feelings.”

"Nobody would want me after this. It's humiliating," he practically whispers so low you’ll miss it if he wasn’t this close to you. His sniffling has long subsided as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms loosen their grip, hanging loosely around you, "I wouldn't want me."

Your heart aches at the sight of his self-deprecating words, the pain and insecurity etched on his face. Without a second thought, you gently push him back, your hands resting on his chest, a small act of resistance against his negative thoughts. His swollen, confused eyes meet yours as you lean closer.

Placing a hand on his thigh for comfort, you let your voice carry the weight of your words, "Never say that about yourself," you say firmly, your frown reflecting your deep concern, "Rotxo, you are so much more than this moment of rejection. You deserve love just like anyone else. Don't let this define your worth."

Your fingertips caress his cheeks, radiating warmth and tenderness as they glide along his skin. A softness lingers in your touch, an unspoken reassurance that you offer with every stroke. Despite the tremor that quivers through your own hands, a testament to the emotions swirling within you, you remain steadfast in your mission to uplift his spirits and kindle a flicker of hope within his wounded heart.

Truly, it was right there before him, concealed in plain sight, much like it was with Kiri. You can't help but marvel at the irony of it all, how easily the heart can be blind to what lies just beyond its reach. Yet, a tender fondness washes over you, an understanding of his innocence and his unwitting ignorance of the precious connection that beckoned him.

Perhaps, you think, it's for the best that he remained oblivious for now, as the pain is still fresh and tender.

"Do you really think so?" he asks, his eyes filled with wonder and a glimmer of hope, desperately seeking validation in your response. As you nod and offer a soft smile, his face lights up with a genuine smile, the first of the day. Excitedly, he pulls you into a heartfelt hug, his pure nature shining through. This man is truly a gem.

You find yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions as you reflect on the situation. It perplexes you why he seemed oblivious to the impact he had on your heart. Taking a deep breath to steady your racing thoughts, you decide it's time to bring this poignant exchange to a close.

Clearing your throat, you slowly rise from your seated position, your gaze momentarily avoiding his captivating eyes that shimmer in the gentle moonlight. The silence between you stretches, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

"I think it's best if we both make our way back," you say, your voice carrying a tinge of melancholy and unrequited longing.

He reciprocates with a gentle smile, its genuineness captivating you, even in the midst of this tender farewell. A subtle nod of understanding passes between you, both acknowledging the intricate complexities of the moment.

His voice resonates with heartfelt gratitude, softly punctuating the stillness that envelops you both, "Thank you."

With those words lingering in the air like a whispered promise, you reluctantly part ways, each step carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The night embraces you, wrapping you in its embrace as you find comfort in the knowledge that you were there for one another, if only for a fleeting moment.

Little did you know, it was far from being the last encounter.

The following morning arrives, and you attempt to steal a few extra moments of slumber, seeking refuge from the complexities of the previous night. However, your peaceful interlude is shattered by the persistent calls of your mother, who reminds you of the responsibilities and obligations that come with being a member of the Metkayina. The demands of productivity override any personal desires, and you resign yourself to the tasks that lie ahead.

You decide to embark on a fishing expedition, a familiar ritual that brings level headedness and nourishment. Equipped with your trusty net, you make your way to one of the favored fishing spots, immersing yourself in the tranquil waters. The cool embrace of the water fails to deter you as you wade deeper, determined to fulfill your task and provide a bountiful catch for your family.

After a while of not catching anything in your chosen fishing spot, you decide to relocate. Fortunately, the change of location proves fruitful, and you're grateful for the decision as you witness a group of male Na'vi engaging in animated conversation, their attention fixated on Rotxo and his fishing prowess.

A sense of amusement washes over you as you realize his popularity. Who would have thought?

Without a second thought, you find yourself wading through the water towards him, unintentionally interrupting the tranquility he sought. "Looks like you've got some admirers," you playfully tease, you playfully tease, coming to a halt a few feet away. He turns to you, confusion evident in his eyes.

"What do you mean, (Name)?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. But his confusion quickly fades as you gesture towards the group of Na'vi, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He takes a step back, shrugging his shoulders, a slight frown forming on his face. "They've been there all morning. Just gossiping, I suppose."

A surge of annoyance wells up within you, no longer able to tolerate his self-doubt. "Enough of that," you assert, your voice carrying a deep resonance. "Anyone would be lucky to have you... including myself." The words slip out in a mumble, almost lost amidst the sounds of nature. Whether he catches your confession or not, he remains silent, stealing a quick glance in your direction before returning his focus to the task at hand.

A comfortable silence envelops you both, accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional splash. Surprisingly, the absence of words doesn't create any awkwardness. It's a stark contrast to the usual giddy and somewhat nauseating feeling you experience in his presence. Perhaps the brief but meaningful connection you shared the previous night has brought a newfound ease and comfort when it comes to being around him.

You feel a gentle yet firm grip on your forearm, halting your motion of throwing the net once again. Turning your gaze to the source, you find Rotxo standing beside you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observes your fishing technique. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes hold of your hands, his touch sending a tingle of warmth through your skin.

Curiosity dances in his eyes as he asks, "Who taught you how to fish?"

You can't help but feel a touch of self-consciousness, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. "I actually taught myself," you admit, your voice carrying a hint of bashfulness.

A knowing smile graces his face as he replies, "That explains your stance. You won't catch many fish like that." He moves closer to you, his body language open and inviting. His question hangs in the air, and you find yourself captivated by his presence, eagerly granting him permission to guide you.

"I don't mind," you respond, your voice filled with anticipation and curiosity. With your consent, he takes the lead, positioning your hands and adjusting your body to align with his preferred fishing method. Every touch, every gentle adjustment, sends a jolt of electricity through your being.

"I must say, I've caught plenty of fish on my own," you playfully interject as he pulls away, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He nods, his gaze transitioning from your hands to your eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. "I have no doubt about that. But the way you were doing it would have taken much longer," he remarks, a hint of admiration evident in his voice.

With his guidance, you make several more attempts, each time incorporating the adjustments he has shown you. It's a delicate dance of coordination, a symphony of movement and shared intention. You feel a sense of connection and trust building with each throw, as if you are moving in perfect harmony with each other and the rhythm of the water.

Time seems to melt away as you continue fishing together. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter echoes through the air, and a sense of peace envelops you both. The symphony of nature's sounds—the gentle lapping of water against your legs, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the occasional splash of a fish—accentuates the tranquility of the moment.

A bittersweet ache tugs at your heart. You wish you that this would be the last time similar actions would be like this, that it’ll be easier to let go than to hold on to a love that can never be fully realized. It's a torment, a constant battle between the longing in your heart and the rationality in your mind. Each passing day spent in his company, teaching and bonding, feels both like a gift and a cruel twist of fate.

You had made peace with your feelings long ago, even before he confessed his love for Kiri. You had resigned yourself to the fact that friendship was the only path you could walk together, no matter how much it pained you. It was a choice to preserve what you had, to savor the moments of joy and connection, even if it meant treading a delicate tightrope of unspoken desires.

"You're spacing out again," Rotxo's voice breaks the spell of your thoughts. You find yourselves back at the familiar spot, the place where platonic confessions were made, now a couple of months later. Time has slipped away swiftly in the company of the one you love.

You let out a soft hum, meeting his gaze with contemplation and unknown affection. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," you confess, your voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Curiosity flickers in Rotxo's eyes as he tilts his head, genuinely interested in the thoughts that have consumed you for so long. He has always respected your privacy, refraining from prying into your inner world. Yet, an undeniable concern gnaws at him, a desire to understand and offer support. You both have become pillars for each other, leaning on each other in times of need.

"Is it something troubling?" he asks, his gaze unwavering as he waits for your response.

“I think that depends on how someone sees it…” you trail off, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. The conversation takes an unexpected turn, and a wave of apprehension washes over you, making you hesitate to continue. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something feels different about this discussion, and it makes you reluctant to delve deeper.

"Will you tell me?" he whispers softly, his voice filled with concern and a touch of vulnerability. The genuine care in his eyes urges you to open up, but you find yourself momentarily speechless, unsure of how to express the conflicted emotions swirling within you. You don't want to burden him or risk jeopardizing the friendship you hold dear.

For a moment, silence hangs in the air, and he senses your hesitation. Worried that he may be crossing a line, he considers dropping the subject altogether. But just as he's about to let it go, your voice finally breaks through.

"I don't think I can continue to be your friend... I feel guilty," you confess, the words escaping your lips, filled with sadness and regret.

He shifts in his seated position, giving you his undivided attention with a serious expression. What could you possible feel guilty about? You haven’t done anything to him, he was pretty sure of that. If anything, you have been becon since his rejection, guilt was the last thing he expects you to feel. Unless it’s something he doesn’t know about.

"Guilt?" he repeats, his voice gentle yet tinged with confusion. "What is it that makes you feel this way?"

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you try to find the right words. "It's these... feelings I have," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Feelings for who?” he wasn’t aware you had sometime you liked. And knowing that made him uncomfortable in his chest. It was a familiar feeling—like his heart has dropped to his stomach. A gasp leave Shia lips as you continue, his heart beat picking up.

“For you,” you express, looking eyes with him, “I’ve always liked you and I was content watching from afar. Then we started getting closer and my feelings gotten stronger. It’s became harder for me to ignore it. I can't help but feel guilty for having these emotions while knowing they may complicate our friendship.”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he reaches out, his hand gently holding yours, a comforting gesture that you hadn't even noticed was trembling, “I think—no, I feel the same way,” he reveals.

Your eyes widen, your face flushing with warmth as you process his words, "You what?"

"I like you too," he confesses, his voice growing a little louder, “It took a while for me to realize it but when I did, I was scared that—uh, that another situation like before would happen again.” he moves to interlock your hands, lower his head bashfully as you’ve done in numerous situations.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Do you really?"

His eyes meet yours, filled with warmth and fondness reflected in their depths. "I first noticed it when we were going to gather some fruit," he begins, his voice laced with a sense of nostalgia, "My stomach felt funny, and I couldn't help but feel excited when I saw your own excitement.”

He scoots closer to you, his shoulder gently brushing against yours, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his closeness and his words.

"The first time my heart raced, I was scared and confused," he continues, his voice soft and filled with vulnerability, "You weren't even around, but it was as if you were right there in my thoughts. It took me a while to understand what those feelings meant, but now I do. I like you, more than ever. "

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, and you can see the depth of his sincerity. It's a moment of shared revelation and vulnerability, a connection that goes beyond words.

A smile spreads across your face, mirroring the joy that fills your heart. "Me too," you whisper, your voice filled with an undeniable certainty. The weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, replaced by the exhilarating realization that your feelings are reciprocated.

"I thought I misheard you when you said you'd be lucky to be with me," he chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours. "Little did I know, it would actually be the other way around."

You close your eyes, giggling softly at his words, flattered by his belief in your worth. "I see you," you whisper, too shy to meet his gaze. It feels surreal to hear him express his feelings so openly.

He gently releases your hand, his finger lightly tapping your cheek to get your attention. "Look at me," he insists, his voice filled with tenderness. "Tell me when you look at me."

With a bit of reluctance, you open your eyes, feeling a flutter in your stomach as your gazes meet. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver of excitement down your spine, and in that moment, you realize that this is not a dream—it's your reality. Before you can utter a word, Rotxo beats you to it, leaving you breathless.

"I see you, (Name)," he says, his words overflowing with sweetness and sincerity. It shocked you that it was directed at you. Nearly felt like a dream if he didn’t plant a wet kiss on your nose, forcing you to wrap your head around that this was real, that he was there with you—not with Kiri or any o the other Na’vi woman.

Just you.

"Would this make it awkward, liking you after..." he starts to ask, his voice trailing off, unable to find the right words without it sounding off.

You shake your head, dispelling his concerns with a reassuring smile. "She'll understand," you assure him, confident in your response.

Because even though Kiri may have been oblivious to Rotxo's feelings, she had an inkling of your affection for him. That fateful night of raw emotions and a little too much alcohol had led to a heartfelt confession, revealing the depths of your feelings for Rotxo. In that moment, Kiri had grasp the truth, and though unspoken, an understanding had silently formed between you.

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roguelov · 2 years ago

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Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)

Summary: Set in the 1880s, rumors and mysteries swirled around a quaint town, mostly about a lord tucked far into the woods. Arriving in town, you could not deny your curiosities, but you were not here to stay. Or so you thought. Low on funds, and a job for a live-in servant advertised in the paper, you now found yourself in the home of Lord Morpheus - the source of all rumors. Passions and tensions will grow. Questions will be answered, but may come at a hefty price. And a promise may be broken. But, is Lord Morpheus, and those few residents, truly as scary as they seem?

Words Count: ~3.4k

Reader: Neutral (unspecified now, however fem leaning)

Warnings: Minor angst (hints of Morpheus’s past), mutual pinning, some fluff, hints of bloodlust

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

After a week of working in the manor, you quickly found routine in your new life. It was far easier than anticipated, although somewhat tiring at points. And despite exploring the manor, you still tended to become lost or forgetful where certain rooms were. It was massive to say the least, but you adored the architecture, the different colors and styles of each room, and the obvious love - even if slightly dusty due to negligence - poured into it. Two rooms in particular captured your interest and attention: the upstairs library, and the sunroom.

The sunroom was magical. The glass - a soft sea green - dome roof sparkled in any and all lighting. On sunny days, it was as if the heavens rained down on this secret cove. Plants of all colors and variety outlined the room from vibrant dark green ferns - nearly an envious green - to signature staple of the manor’s passionate red roses as well as strong and proud sunflowers, delicate lilacs, and the intricate petals of the blushing pink carnations. Fern leaves as large as dinner plates bent towards the doorways like curtains. You could not help but imagine you were an explorer traversing the jungle as you entered.

In the center, a couch, two chairs, and a table were set out. However, there was a very obvious empty space for furniture to be pushed aside. The true beauty of the room was it could double as a ballroom if needed. You could see where a musician could sit, you could imagine a dozen people dancing in unison, you could feel the air crackle with potential energy. When you walked the pristine tile floor sang with every step of your shoe, heels clacked and echoed like a chorus; imagining a group of people in here, and oh how the room would harmonize.

The library, on the other hand, was quaint and far less grandiose compared to the sunroom. Yet, it held its own type of magic, one of comfort and warmth. It was draped in rich dark browns, glowing oranges of the sun and lanterns, and overall warm tones. The walls had built-in shelves and overflowed with books. A single thin window with a nook to sit and read by sunlight was nestled between two shelves. Two long wooden tables with chairs were placed in the room, almost more of studying than reading comfortably.

The air in the library was calmer, and gentle like an escape, or a brief pause on life. If you strolled over to the collection of books, most were published from Morpheus’s company ‘The Dreamer’s Palace’. Which wasn’t too surprising, but the library held many other books from the popular to the unknown. Every genre filled the shelves: drama, contemporary, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, nonfiction, mythology, and poetry. You had worlds at your fingertips and each of them called to you.

When you had time, you would eventually borrow a book, with Morpheus’s permission of course. Maybe you could take the book and lounge in the sunroom, now that sounded like a lovely idea.

However, you supposed there was another place besides the sunroom and library to entertain you and your thoughts. You desperately wished to explore the ground, especially the maze. The rose maze enthralled you. The hedges must be ten feet tall, barring all from sneaking a single glance in. The full, perfect lush red roses filled the hedges and dazzled in the sunlight while somehow seemingly glowed in the moonlight. With the moon above, they tempted you like some Greek tragedy. The maze was your labyrinth. Maybe a monster lurked among the roses, maybe you would become lost and lose your sense of self, or maybe it was simply just a maze.

One day.

One day, you would run freely through the hedges and happily lose yourself amongst them.

Late in the morning, Morpheus had requested some tea. If it wasn’t in the morning after what you expected a long night, then he requested afternoon tea for one last boost to finish the day. Light seemed to always shine under the crack of his door. His footsteps creaked along the home constantly even as you laid still in bed.

Maneuvering up the stairs, you carefully balanced a kettle and a tea cup with a saucer. Stepping onto the second floor, you immediately veered left. Morpheus’s study was the first door. You knocked, announcing yourself. His reply was muffled, but allowed you in.

Opening the door, Morpheus was hunched over his desk. Stacks of paper covered his desk, with his pen scratching away editing and making revision notes on a new manuscript. A dying fire crackled as embers burned a reddish orange hue casting the room in a radiating warmth. The curtains were opened showing off the dreary morning. Rain tapped against the window, adding to the ambiance.

You beelined for Morpheus. You efficiently, as possible, set up his tea in the small corner space free of papers. Morpheus - who had been watching not just since you walked in, but since you first arrived - wondered about something that had been bothering him for a few days. The scratching of his pen seized, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye. “May I ask you a question?”

You paused as you set up his tea. It was one of the few other times he addressed you, besides your first interaction and occasionally calling for tea. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you poured his tea. “Of course, sir.”

He laid down his pen, and turned his head to address you. His eyes - an enchanting pale blue in such dim lighting - locked with yours. “You are not afraid of me.”

You stepped back from him, having finished your assigned task. The kettle left besides his cup if he wished to have more later. You folded your hands in front of you with the empty tray in your hands. His sentence tossed over and over in your head. You frowned slightly in thought, “That is not a question.”

The corner of his lips twitched upward. “You are correct, apologies. I suppose I was more inquiring about your opinion.”

“On what?”

“Myself, and said rumors that circulate the manor.”

You didn’t need time to think. Most people warned you of this place whether directly or indirectly. “The townspeople have their beliefs and I have mine.”

“So you have no care for the matter?”

“I can form my own opinions.” You cocked your head quizzically, “I’m sorry, but did Lucienne not inform you of my answer? She asked a similar question during the interview.”

“She did, but I wish to hear it from you especially given you have been staying with us for more than over a week now.” He twisted his body in his chair, facing you directly. He gave you his full undivided attention. “So what are your opinions? What do you think of the rumors?”

You paused, considering his question. “Do you want my honest opinion, sir?”

You had your opinions. Ones that had been slowly formulating since your arrival, ones that may be an unpleasant truth to hear.

“I do.” He saw the hesitation written plainly on your face. “You can be blunt.”

You nodded, and sighed releasing any tension. “If you wish -“ you cleared your throat - “the way I see it you revel in said rumors. You can easily dispel them by ingraining yourself more into society, but you don’t. You do the donations, you have the well liked bookshop, but you do not show your face. Either you isolate yourself to protect yourself, or because you believe you deserve it - deserve the isolation.”

Morpheus hummed, utterly fascinated by your answer. “Truly? And what do you think? Why would I sever my connection to society?”

Your eyes dragged up and down over his body - you were dissecting him. Morpheus noted how a change came over you. You were not a servant, head bowed, but an equal with a sharp eye. You were clever, far more clever than you let on. A mask had momentarily slipped. “Because you deserve it or so you believe.”

He nodded. You may have indulged a mere facet of his curiosity, but somehow stirred more within this one conversation. He turned back to his work, “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Is there anything else you need, sir?” You smiled, and your tone suggested a hint of teasing, “Any other of my opinions you wish to know?”

His smile was hidden from you. “No, thank you.”

“Of course.” You bowed and swiftly left.

“And do not feel frightened to share your honesty.” He spoke the next sentence softly, whispering, “I enjoy it.”

You paused at the door. A faint flutter hummed in your chest. “If you wish, sir.”

I do, he thought.

You turned your head, glancing back once more. He had returned to his work. Your mind thought back on the conversation, on Morpheus’s self imposed isolation. You opened your mouth, only to quickly close it and simply left. As the door softly clicked shut, Morpheus put his head into his hands.

A mortal.

A foolish mortal who had unknowingly walked into the lion’s den. His thirst rose when you walked by, and the smell of you now imbued his home. Before he remembered a time when his thirst could be quelled for months at a time, unbothered or unaffected by hunger. But now as you freely roamed his halls, he could barely go a few days without feeling its intense and paralyzing effects. The taste of human blood has not touched his lips in nearly a century.

Idiot, he thought. Why did I allow this?

“I believe it would do you some good sir,” Lucienne pressed. She had approached her lord, proposing to introduce a servant, more so a cleaning servant, into the manor. Or more accurately cornered him in his study.

Morpheus huffed under his breath. “Lucienne, I respect you and your opinions, however, this is ridiculous and out of the question.”

“Lord Morpheus, you need to try more or dare we have another fiasco such as the last manor.”

Ah, yes, how could he forget.

He had gotten complacent in his solitude. He kept to himself, and worked on new stories that continued to be sent in from all over. He only cared about his work, and nothing else.

No. That was incorrect.

No, he was purposely drowning himself in it; all to forget the painful heartache. No, he had not gotten complacent in solitude, he had gotten complacent in his endless grief. Let the people gossip, he bitterly thought. Let them believe in the monster. He did not care for his world were these dingy walls with the ghost roaming amongst them.

But, a strange man who lived on the outskirts of town stirred vile imaginations. After a decade and possibly longer of living - in what Morpheus ignorantly believed to be peace - the townspeople charged one night forcing everyone to flee.

He had to rebuild.

He had to remake himself in this new town. He had hoped his donations would soothe the townspeople, but mortals were weary of newcomers and indulged in their superstitions far too often.

Even if their intuitions were right most of the time.

A tap on the window broke Morpheus out of his thoughts, his memories. Through the haze of the night, a small black mass was perched on the window sill. Morpheus wordlessly strolled over and opened the window. A bird, a raven specifically, swooped in and landed on the desk.

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” Morpheus asked, facing the raven.

The raven shuffled, his talons clacked against the wood. “Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Merv is asking for something for the pain again. He says his supply is almost out.”

Morpheus’s features softened, a miniscule change. “Okay, tell Merv I will send for more immediately.”

Matthew nodded, but he did not move.

“Is there something else you need?” Morpheus asked, raising his eyebrow.

Matthew sighed, sinking a bit. “I may or may not have been listening to yours and Lucienne’s conversation.”

Morpheus’s lips thinned, not angered Matthew was listening - it was nothing new - but because he knew Matthew would side with Lucienne. “And what do you think of the matter then?”

“Well,” he drawled out, “I have been visiting the town a bit, and some of the people have begun to talk and they’re not too … happy.”

Morpheus barely contained his eye roll. “I have done all I can to appease them, if they want to make speculations then let them. I don’t harm them in any capacity.”

It was true. His diet these days consisted solely of animals.

“Maybe an appearance at the bookshop then,” Lucienne suggested. “But, I still urge you to hire someone. If others see someone unharmed in your care then it would lessen the problem.”

“I will not bring a stranger into my home just so mortals can stop gossiping.”

“If not for you then for us, for the manor. We already had to run once.”

Morpheus frowned.

Lucienne cautiously stepped forward. “You opened your door to me - for Mervyn, and Matthew - you brought in a stranger once before.”

“That was different. This will be a mortal, Lucienne.”

“And do you not trust yourself, or do you not want a repeat?”

Morpheus’s shoulders tensed. An intense, chilling, glare settled into his eyes. His eyes glowed ominously like a feral animal. “Lucienne, I will ask you once to not bring that up again.”

Lucienne stepped back, but did not look away. She held her ground in a way. “Apologies, sir, but I do not want to find a new place so soon.”

Matthew chirped up, disliking the heavy tension in the room. He flapped his wings to turn all the attention onto him. “And it would be nice for you, boss. The manor has been gathering dust, so it would be good for all of us, right?”

Morpheus closed his eyes then exhaled slowly. Opening his eyes, they had returned to a normal shade. “Fine.”

“What?” Matthew muttered, stunned.

“Bring someone in, do what you must.” He turned his back. “If we can survive another decade here peacefully then do so. I don’t want to start again so quickly.”

“Of course, sir, thank you.” Lucienne bowed her head and left as Matthew swooped after her.

Look at all the good it has done, Morpheus thought.

Morpheus was confined to these walls with you lurking around. You were haunting him, and you reminded him of -

He shook away those memories. He had a new ghost in his home and he had to deal with this unfortunate reality. This wasn’t about him, this was about Lucienne, Matthew, and Mervyn. They were lucky last time to escape before the home burned, but luck always ran out. If people discovered the truth, if they came in the night unheard, he couldn’t forgive himself for anything that would happen to his friends - his family.

This was his family unlike the one born from blood.

Meanwhile as you strolled away from Morpheus’s study, your thoughts were tangled together. He was odd. Polite, yes. But, odd. He created a wedge between him and most; a wedge you clearly saw. In the short time you were living here, it was becoming obvious who Lord Morpheus was: a tortured soul. But, why? What drove him to this state? If you were to continue to live here, you would find out.

Curiosity was powerful, and you had your reasonings to do so.

Taking the tray to the kitchen, you once again passed by another oddity in the manor: the plain wooden door under the stairs. Earlier in your adventures of the manor, you tried to open it to no avail.

“I wouldn’t keep trying if I were you.” You whirled around - panicked you had been caught - and thankfully only saw Lucienne. She smiled, a joking smile, at your reaction. Her eyes darted to the lock door. “It leads to the basement where the plumbing goes.”

You frowned, disappointed.

“Sorry, I know it’s not as wondrous as you might think.” She strolled forwards, eyes kept on the door. “But I assure you, it’s not pleasant down there. It’s damp and dark with old pipes.”

Her eyes flickered over, locking with yours. She peered over her glasses to ensure she looked at you directly. ‘Don’t’ was all her eyes said.

“I suppose the wonders of plumping is something I’m not too keen about,” you chuckled lightly.

Her smile softened, and laughed along with you. “No, I don’t think most are. Now, if you excuse me, I was going to get a drink.”

She skirted by you towards the kitchen. Once, she was down the hall and out of sight, your eyes swiveled back to the door. Only one thought ran through your mind: she’s lying. You pressed your hand to the door. In your chest, deep within your bones, something hummed on the other side.

Stepping back, you searched and no one was around. If not today, but one day you will see what was behind that door. A voice told you to be cautious in your curiosity, but to also not let it die out. Trust your gut. And your gut needed the door to be opened to reveal all its secrets.

You paused, running your hand over the grain of the wood. The hum still called out. Similar to how you swore to uncover the secrets of a Morpheus, this door fell under it as well. This manor reeked of secrets and lies. It did not frightened you, not in the least. It compelled you. And the rumors only spurred your thirst for knowledge.

But, today was not the day. All of this required a touch of patience.

A skill you honed over the years.

Brushing past, you made your way into the kitchen dropping off the tray. Glancing out the window, the late rainy morning reminded you of all the hours you still had left in the day. You sighed.

Now, what should I do?

The rest of the day you decided to busy yourself with cleaning the kitchen. Most of the appliances were new, and strangely did not seem to be used as frequently since some dust had collected on them, much like the rest of the manor. You scrubbed the cabinets and the floor, cleaned dishes and silverware, and threw away any rotted food - which was surpassingly little. The kitchen nearly sparkled by the end of your work, and luckily the day had passed between all of it.

You retired for the night and drew a well deserved and needed bath. You soaked for almost an hour, letting your skin prune and your thoughts wander: thoughts of the manor, thoughts of Lucienne, thoughts of the mysterious gardener, thoughts of Morpheus, and thoughts of your past and life now.

You sighed, sinking into the water until it barely touched your nose.

Here was a new start with new promises while the past still loomed heavily over your shoulders. No, you truly couldn’t start anew until the past was settled. You knew this, and you were constantly reminded of it.

With the water now cold, you decided to get out. You dried off and pulled on your night clothes. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you passed the writing desk.

You paused.

Changing direction from your cozy bed, you veered to the desk. You needed to write a letter, one you had forgotten - and may have purposely neglected - to write. You plopped down into the creaky wooden chair and began to write a letter. Amongst your initial search of the desk, you were surprised, and thankful, to find paper and ink already inside the drawer.

You had an old promise to keep.

You pulled out a paper and addressed it to your uncle. An uncle who raised you and taught you many things. An uncle who you spoke exclusively in letters since leaving his home nearly over a decade ago. You loved him dearly, and hoped maybe one day after your journey of self discovery, and possibly after truly settling down, you would visit him again.

Under a candlelight, you wrote about the past week. You spoke of your new job, your new lord, and the others who lived here - even if you spoke only to one. You spoke how this job could be the one, the one to change your life. You told him he was still always in your thoughts, and wondered how he was doing since his new retired life per his last letter. You smiled down at the letter, and signed it. You neatly folded it, and tucked it into an envelope to send at the earliest convenience.

Maybe Lucienne could take it to the post office for you, or maybe you’ll make a visit into town.

The decision will come later, for now you need to sleep.

#the sandman #the sandman au #morpheus #dream of the endless #vampire!morpheus #vampire!dream #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #vampire!morpheus x reader #vampire!dream x reader #fem!reader

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undefeated-attorney · 2 years ago

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we all know phoenix used to be an major in art before dropping everything to become a defense attorney

but do you think that phoenix still draws? as a hobby at least?

do you think his desk is almost constantly cluttered with pencils, papers and other art tools? do you think that he has lots of paintbrushes and paint and large canvases

maybe he uses art as a way to vent. he never likes saying his woes out verbally— especially to others so maybe he uses art as a way to get his frustrations out

of course he wouldn't want anyone to see them so he crumbles those papers up immediately and throws them in the trashcan

but what if maybe after turnabout goodbyes, after he hears about Edgeworths "death"... there's an overflow of crumbled papers in the trashcan, even spilling onto the floor?

what if maya just so happens to unfold a few of these papers and...

man. angst potential..

#[ court record ]#ace attorney #phoenix wright #maya fey #[ profiles ]#miles edgeworth #ace attorney headcanon #ace attorney headcanons

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multifandomqueen01 · 3 years ago

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Before It's Too Late-Eddie Munson×Bestfriend!Reader

Summary: You FINALLY confess your feelings for Eddie on the way to save Hawkins, just in case one of you doesn't make it.

Warning: A perfect combination of angst and fluff. Mutual pining. Mentions of potential death/violence. Doesn't progress beyond making out, although there are subtle smutty references. Language.

A/N: I'm writing this based off a ten second clip that was shown in the trailer. So if you're reading this after Volume 2 comes out, just ignore the fact that it probably doesn't follow the plot at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An eerie silence had come over the group as the winnebago barreled down the road, with Steve at the wheel. You were seated at the far back of the motorhome, squished between Eddie and Dustin, who were both being uncharacteristically quiet.

Eddie clutched his makeshift weapon with both hands, putting his rings on display and causing his knuckles to turn white. His knee was bouncing anxiously against yours and you placed a gentle hand on top of it. He lifted his gaze from the floor and gave you a small smile.

Your stomach fluttered as you smiled back at the boy that you had known since childhood. He had been there through it all and now there was a chance you could lose him. Eddie wasn't just a friend, he was the man that you had grown to love.

There was no denying that Eddie loved you too, but whether it was the same romantic, all consuming way that you loved him, was unknown. You had never discussed your feelings for one another, always thinking that there would be more time.

If the past week had taught you anything, it was how naive you had been, and now you were both hurdling towards a certain death and there just wasn't enough time. You'd give anything to go back to sophomore year, when you first realized what love was, but it was too late.

"Hello? Earth to Y/N.", Eddie's voice sounded muffled at first, growing clearer as it pulled you out of the depths of your mind. You blinked several times, bringing everything back into focus. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure about that? Cause' your face is doing that thing it does when you're trying to bullshit me-"

"I said I'm fine!", you snapped, startling Dustin who had begun to nod off. After uttering a quiet apology you climbed to your feet, only for Eddie to grab you by the wrist.

"Talk to me.", he pleaded, the tone of concern causing a lump to form in your throat.

"I need to use the washroom.", the quiver of your bottom lip told Eddie that you were making up an excuse, but he released his grip anyway, knowing how much you hated breaking down in front of others.

As you ran into the closet sized washroom and locked the door behind you, the tears began to fall, accompanied by loud, involuntary sobs. You prayed that the sound of the engine had been enough to drown them out as you slapped a hand over your mouth.

"I'll be out in a minute!", you yelled, quickly responding to a series of light knocks on the door.

"It's me.", Eddie announced, before knocking again. Knowing that he wasn't about to give up, you reluctantly unlocked the door. "It's a good thing that neither of us are claustrophobic, huh?", he joked, joining you in the close confines of the washroom.

Eddie had never been comfortable in emotionally charged situations, yet he always knew how to comfort you when you were upset. If his attempt at making you laugh didn't work, he would draw you into his embrace and hold you close, which is exactly what he did.

As you buried your face into his chest and soaked the front of his shirt with your tears, he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop his own emotions from overflowing. Eddie had never been brave, but he wanted to be for you.

"Eds. I'm scared.", you admitted, pulling away just enough to look up at him.

"I'd be questioning your sanity if you weren't.", he chuckled, letting his arms fall down to his sides.

"I'm serious! What if we don't make it?", you asked, lowering your gaze.

"Hey! Look at me.", he cupped your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"But what if something happens to you?"

"To be honest, I think dying will royally suck. It's not something that I'm looking forward to. But you'll be just fine without me. Especially now that you have all these new friends-"

"Fuck sakes, Eddie! Stop doing that!", you yelled through your tears, shoving him back against the wall. "Stop acting like your death won't matter. I can't lose you...I just can't! Not when you're the only man I've ever loved!", the words burst out of you, needing to be heard.

"You love me?", Eddie's voice was just above a whisper when he finally found the courage to speak. "Like more than just a friend?", his big, brown puppy dog eyes searching your face for clarification.

"Yes, much more than a friend."

"Right. I just wanted to check before I made a complete fool of myself."

He pushed off the wall and closed the short distance between you, caressing the side of your face with one hand, while the other went around to small of your back. His gaze never wavered from your lips as you began to lean in, your stomach fluttering wildly with anticipation.

The moment that his mouth collided with yours, everything else faded into the background. Moving tentatively, you parted your lips, allowing Eddie to deepen the kiss, while your hands wrapped around the back of his neck.

"So does this mean you feel the same way?", you inquired breathlessly, being the first to break the kiss between you.

"Naw.", Eddie shrugged, causing the hopeful expression on your face to drop. "I definitely love you way more than you love me.", he added, bursting into hysterics as you rolled your eyes at his antics.

"That's not true!", you insisted, hitting him playfully on the arm.

"Oh, you wanna bet? Just how long have you felt this way?", he asked smugly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Since Sophomore year."

"That's cute. Try middle school."

"Middle school? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I could ask you the same question, Sweetheart. But if you must know, I didn't think I stood a chance, and I was fucking terrified of losing you.", he confessed, laughing half-heartedly at the irony of it all. "But, hey! At least now we know the truth, and it's better late then never."

"Is it? Because all I can think about is what could've been, and now we'll never get to know.", you sighed, feeling sorry for yourself.

"Y/N, don't say that. It's not too late. Not yet.", Eddie's voice broke as he reached out for you.

His mouth crashed into yours, with a level of urgency that wasn't there the first time. The small washroom filling with the sound of heavy breathing, as Eddie guided you back against the wall, his hands wandering eagerly along your sides.

"Holy shit. I love you. I love you so much.", he babbled, peppering your face and neck with kisses. "You're all I ever think about. Jesus Christ. I want you so bad.", Eddie's excitement became impossible to ignore as his body pressed up against yours.

"Baby, I want you too.", you moaned into his mouth, feeling the heat grow between you. "But not here, not like this.", you added, placing your hands on his chest to try and put some distance between you.

"Then I guess that leaves us with only one option."

"Which is?"

"Neither of us are allowed to die.", Eddie stated stubbornly, knowing your survival wasn't something that either of you could guarantee. "Cool?", he pried, grinning down at you.

"Yeah, cool.", you smiled back, embracing him before he could see the tears that had begun to pool in your eyes, both of you refusing to let go of the other until you had reached your destination.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff

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s1ater · 3 years ago

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secrets out. bellamy blake x reader

summary 🛁: alie gets under the skin of everyone, even the ones who seem the most shut off

warning/s 🚽: swearing, depression, talks of miscarriage, and gif not mine, angst

slater’s note 🪞: season three truly was the best season. this is... dramatic? it has potential but i gave up.

it was your turn.

alie crossed all of them off like a list. one by one, mind fucking them until they couldn’t handle it.

mind manipulation, you knew all about it and you were certain that it wasn’t something you could be so easily affected by. you had met a lot of people, had a lot of boyfriends, and friends, and even your own parents who enjoyed getting into your head with simple words that made you feel guilty or sick to your stomach.

you were sure she couldn’t get into yours.

“hello, sweetheart,” raven quirked her head, already analyzing you and your current mood. “see they finally brought in the big guns.”

you humph in amusement with lips slightly twitching upward as you made your way to one of the boxes that sat close to raven. you were hoping to rest, put your mind to ease as you sat before her, not expecting much to come from her mouth since you were a closed book.

clarke and jasper were practically left open and begging to be read as they sized up to raven with their emotions still filling their eyes to the brim. they were easy targets, easy to tear down, and easy to extract a fit from.

and although bellamy seemed just as shut off as you, he really wasn’t. bellamy had so many problems shoved in the back of his mind that they begun to pile and overflow. and with anger issues compiled from unsettled issues in his past; he was just as much as an easy target as they were.

everyone hits rock bottom, but not all get to face the humiliation of others also realizing and coming to spit in your face.. a plan alie was hoping to put in motion, she just had to bait you first.

“you’ve always been the smart one,” she slightly twisted her head, raven’s eyes dark and filled with a conscious that wasn’t her own. “always thought for the better of others.. never yourself,” she shook her head and you could tell by the way her eyes slightly squinted she had something up her sleeve.

you were intrigued.

“so.. selfless and yet you’re always blamed for every problem that comes up. why do you let that happen, y/n?”

you tilted your head to the side, not exactly finding truth in the last of her words, you had never felt blamed, and if anyone was a scape goat, it’d be murphy. but you still found yourself listening, eating up the lie like a story.

“which is why i’m confused as to.. why you took the chip..” her face screwed up and at the sudden words you inhaled sharply knowing very well everyone heard her words just as you did. “i mean, y/n, as much as a smart decision that was, it was a rather selfish thing of you to do, don’t you think?”

you kept your mouth shut, knowing this wasn’t the last of her words. she had a plan of some kind, she was still trying to get into your head and she felt so close by the way she had just watched you adjust yourself in the slightest way possible.

“like i said before,” you mumbled, “your chip didn’t work.”

“that’s too bad, isn’t it?” she whispered, almost taunting you, “whatever’s hurting you must be something real bad with how brave and strong you are, or—excuse me, seem to be.”

“someone should go in there,” jasper suddenly stood from his spot at the door, listening in, his mouth beginning to grow dry as he stood up anxiously, looking between bellamy and the rest of your friends listening with just as slack and uncomfortable expressions; taken aback.

he made a move to go in but bellamy quickly stopped him, “just wait.”

“bellamy-”

“but then again, the strongest of us always seem to carry the most. you would know wouldn’t you?”

your mouth twitched from frowning deeper as you thought of all the past torment, from the moment you were born to the moment you landed on the ground.

“shall we talk about why you took the chip?”

“we can talk about whatever you want,” you leaned forward with your elbows on your knees.

this couldn’t get any worse than it already was.

“i want you to choose. bellamy or mount weather?”

you swallowed harshly, but your voice was still stern as you stared at her with narrowed eyes, “neither,” you leaned forward, thinking of the many flaws to weaknesses that centered in your heart just with the those topics. “i want to talk about you, raven, only you.”

“deflecting the question won’t work, y/n,” she almost glared at you, “you said we could talk about what i wanted and now i made a decision; i want to talk about what happened in mount weather after you got shot.”

your face dropped and you didn’t even try to hide it, remembering exactly what she was talking about and the room suddenly felt hot and you wanted to leave but you felt completely sucked in like she was a vacuum, giving you no choice but to get swallowed.

“you were pregnant, right?” raven’s head dipped to the side, already knowing she had gotten to you despite your face no longer showing a sign of distress. “with a little girl?”

jasper’s gaze, as well as everyone else’s, landed on the side of bellamy’s jaw, eyes wide, holding their breath, waiting for him to step in, to stop it, do anything but freeze up like a stick, struck dumb with shock.. and hurt and a pain he couldn’t distinguish, something he had never felt before to the point he didn’t even know if it was all real.

raven tsk’d, eyes landing on her lap, “such a shame really.” you could see the sick smile that began to climb up her cheeks, making you want to scream, shout, anything to get rid of the pain clawing at your chest. “does bellamy know?” she looks up, as if wanting to really know, as if she didn’t already. “i mean he is the father after all, you think he’d deserve to know.”

he knew now.

“bellamy, do something,” clarke gaped at him, her hand tugging at his arm, begging him to snap out of the trance he was in. “bellamy, you need to go in there. you need to get her out of there."

“he held you... thinking you'd die, completely unaware of the baby inside that really took the bullet," raven inhaled, sighing, her head shaking. "that really is sad, i don't know how you didn't end it-"

you got up and she smiled, anticipating this moment. but you don't do what she wished you'd do. you stood calmly, staring deep into her hazel pupils, amusement snowing around, almost encouraging you to inflict pain on her.

"you're not real," your voice is low and quiet, "you can't effect me. you promote a false devotion and promise a final happiness and safety from pain, but you're flawed and can't even bring the weak of us down."

your eyes dart back and forth in search of some emotion in her eyes, but it seems she goes blank and shuts down like a computer until her jaw tips up, pulling closer to your face, whispering back, "you think that you're so brave, y/n. you think that you're some courageous soldier just because of the luck you had of showing up in the right place at the right time," you feel a hand grip your bicep while the other wrapped around your mid section, slowly pulling you away from the words that ran out of her mouth fast, “but you're wrong, deep down you're coward just like all your friends and my point is only further proven when you took the chip, because admit it y/n, you're scared, you're scared-"

you felt like you had been ripped from a different world once bellamy had spun you around to face him. your body shook internally as realization overcame you of what had all been revealed within that room. bellamy looked scattered as he stared into your eyes with his own wide ones. he didn't look himself; he looked worried and maybe even sad.

very sad.

"y/n, sit down for me, please," he grasped your arms lightly, pulling you down on one of the chair slowly and gently, afraid you'd break under his touch. he was completely disoriented and he wasn't even sure if what was all happening was real.

you stayed blank in the mind, feeling completely drained and distraught to the thought of what was running around in his head right now. it hurt that he now knew everything.

"talk to me," he slowly kneeled before you, "what—baby, what happened to you?"

you inhaled sharply, the feeling of tears beginning to form in the crest of your eyes as you begun to feel overwhelmed—your chest tightened and it seemed like such a strain on your lungs when you tried to breathe, "bellamy, a lot happened in... mount weather that i can't even begin to explain. i'm not even sure what was real and what wasn't."

"i was in a dark spot," it was hard to force out and you could barely look him in the eye with the intensity he kept within his eyes. his heart hurt for you and he couldn't even begin to think straight with all that was revealed with raven. "i can't think straight half the time, bellamy and after everyone was killed at mount weather.. and i was shot... i didn't feel like the same person anymore.. nothing felt right..."

you choked. your voice caught in the back of your throat as you attempted to explain yourself but he stopped you, shushing your voice as your tears begun to slowly fall and paint your cheeks. he pulled you close by the back of your neck, stroking his thumb against your scarred skin while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him and his warmth. he held you tightly and so hard, that his ribs hurt but he didn't care because he was afraid that you'd slip from his grip, like you had before.

but you stayed and you held him just as tight, allowing yourself to sink, because this was the only thing that truly felt right.

navigation.

@thecraziestcrayon @mynewnamedoesnotmatter @myalupinblack @cc13723things @uselesssapphickitten @black-rose-29 @reality-runaway @let-love-bleeds-red @rudypankowisdaddy @the-anxious-youth @kitkat-mini @itzstacie @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @nyx3028 @hizziestial

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kodaiki · 3 years ago

Text

you wanna pizza me?

summary: with your friends having a summer job at the pizzeria near your home, you just had to grab at the opportunity for some discounts. you soon become a regular and expect the summer to go per usual, just with some more pizza pies than usual. but when the pizzeria gets a new employee, a cute one at that, that you don’t know, what’s the move? order pizza all the time, obviously.

pairing: osamu miya x fem!reader

genre: pizza delivery boy!osamu, pizza workers!seijoh four, pizza fanatic/oblivious/easily flustered!reader. fluff//humor//smidge of angst. featuring seijoh four.

word count: 6.0k

a/n: repost!

“there’s nothing in this house to eat!” you call out, staring in frustration at your empty fridge. salad dressings and sauces overflow the door of your fridge but on the shelves, there’s absolutely nothing that looks appetizing. you’re sure if you check the cupboard, the only snacks you’d find are maybe some crackers and a bag of croutons.

you can sense the eye roll from your mother as she shouts from upstairs, “you can order something!”

your furrowed eyebrows twitch upward and you grin. you don’t have to tell me twice. you rush to grab your phone and quickly tapping the restaurant’s phone number on your speed dial list, you hold your phone up to your ear.

“say cheese!pizza, what can I get'cha?” an enthusiastic voice chimes through the phone.

“hey, oikawa, it’s y/n,” you greet, staring down at your fingers, nose scrunching as you recognize you’re in deep need of a manicure.

oikawa and some of your friends work at the pizzeria not too far from your house during the summers and you use that to your advantage. not only did you get over your nerves when calling to order takeout, but the discounts you received were very charitable for your broke ass self.

“y/n! hey, what’s up? you haven’t called in a while.”

“my house has no food so i’m ordering the best pizza in the city,” you grin, beginning to walk absentmindedly around your kitchen, hand gliding along the countertops as you do.

“well, of course you are,” oikawa teases coyly and you can just picture the knowing smirk on his face, “you want your usual?”

“yes, please.”

“great, coming right up! are you going to be productive and pick it up or be a lazy ass and have one of our delivery guys bring it?”

ok, rude.

“oikawa, do I need to answer that?” you ask flatly, rolling your eyes.

“delivery it is! oh and hey! next week the guys and i are going to the beach. do you wanna come–” oikawa’s voice was cut off by another familiar one. “shittykawa, stop making small talk with the customers!”

“iwa~,” he whines, “it’s only y/n,”

“oh, well, tell her I said hi.”

oikawa mutters into the phone, “iwaizumi says hi by the way.”

“yeah, i heard,” you chuckle. “one of these days, you’ll get fired.”

“y/n, don’t say that! you’re wrong though.”

“oh yeah?” you muse, adjusting the phone under your ear. “how come?”

“i’m practically the reason we have so many regular customers. girls just can’t resist my boyish charm.”

“gross.”

“wha- how rude! your pizza’ll be ready in around twenty minutes. think you can wait that long?”

“we’ll see.” and with that, you hang up the phone with a sigh.

trudging over to the couch, you plop down and grab the t.v. remote. tuning to a random movie channel, you curl yourself into a blanket as you wait for your beloved pizza to show up.

you would’ve worked at the pizzeria along with your classmates but with your babysitting gigs, the times just didn’t align.

less than halfway into the movie, the doorbell rings and what follows is, “pizza delivery!”

standing up from your comfortable position on the couch, you wrap the plush blanket around you and waddle over to the door, not bothering to fix how you looked.

the delivery boy for your home at the pizzeria is your friend, makki. you’re aware that all your friends have the potential to be your delivery person in case there’s a rotation, but that’s yet to happen.

makki’s seen you at your worst state, including the time when you were dumped and ordered a whole pizza pie to yourself all while being a sobbing mess with your cheeks flushed and nose runny. so to say you didn’t care what you looked like would be an understatement.

opening the door, you’re ready to greet makki, “hey ma–”

your voice falls in the back of the throat when the door is completely open. it isn’t makki who’s at the door, though. widening your eyes at the new unfamiliar delivery boy, you clear your throat. the boy was looking to either side of him, assumably wondering if he was knocking at the right house.

was there a rotation in routes that they didn’t tell me about?

i look like absolute crap in front of a dude who looks like he could be on the cover of a magazine.

ha, my luck.

snapping his gaze toward you at your cleared throat, the boy smiles shyly, holding out the pizza box.

“thanks,” you trail off, taking the box from him and dig your free hands into your sweatpants pocket for some cash.

“it’ll be $7.97,” the boy pipes, adjusting the black cap on his head.

you remember making fun of makki for wearing it but seeing it on this new worker…

“here you go,” you stammer, giving him a ten dollar bill. “keep the change.”

“really? thanks,” the boy beams, causing your heart to flutter in your chest.

oh.

oh no.

you don’t recognize the new delivery worker from anywhere so he can’t be from your school. he turns to go and you slowly closed the door and sigh a breath of relief. as soon as your nerves settle, a flame of betrayal ignites in your stomach.

how come no one told me there was a new delivery boy? better yet, a cute delivery boy?

now you’ve ruined all first impressions, opening the door with a blanket wrapped around your body, probably looking crusty as hell. you’re somewhat surprised he didn’t shriek and run away solely at the sight of your appearance.

setting the pizza down on the coffee table, you sit back on the sofa and gnaw on your lower your lip. what if the dude thinks i’m a lazy bum who eats pizza all the time?

…

i am a lazy bum who eats pizza all the time.

a few weeks later, once again having nothing to eat you dial the familiar number on your phone.

“Say Cheese!Pizza what can i–”

“why didn’t you tell me you had a new delivery boy?” you snap, cutting oikawa off mid-sentence. you hadn’t mentioned it to them earlier because you’re sure they wouldn’t have answered any of your prying questions over text.

“uh, y/n?” oikawa asks.

“yes, it’s me,” you sigh, frown forming on your face into a pout, “so why didn’t you tell me?”

“well, it didn’t come up–”

“you couldn’t just tell me, ‘hey y/n, we got a new super cuter delivery boy by the way, so don’t open the door looking like a zombie?’ a warning would’ve been nice, ‘s all i’m saying.”

“i uh– wait you think he’s cute?”

“well, duh. why would i tell you he’s cute if i didn’t think so? oh gosh, i’ve been postponing ordering pizza since i’m too nervous to face him again.”

“y/n, chill. osamu’s not going to care what you look like. i’m sure he was relieved to deliver pizza to someone his age and not some hungry stoners at 3 a.m.”

his name piques your interest. “osamu?” you ask, ignoring the rest of his statement.

“mhm, and he’s on shift right now so i’ll just put down your usual so he can deliver it–”

“but–”

“see ya.”

the line cuts off and you glare at the phone.

slouching in defeat, you pout with a loud sigh. you sit, scrolling through your phone, patiently waiting for your pizza. you say patiently, but what you really mean is trying to savor as much time as you can before you embarrass yourself in front of the cute delivery boy.

hearing the doorbell ring and his shout, “pizza delivery,” you feel your lungs nearly collapse. rushing out of the kitchen, you check yourself in the mirror on the wall, making sure you looked decent enough, before pulling open the door.

“hey!” you grin but wince when you realized you probably sounded too eager.

“hey,” osamu trails off, the side of his lips quirking up into a half smile. oh god, why did he have to be so cute? especially wearing the delivery hat. “it’ll be–”

“$7.97, i know… it’s my usual order.” you eye the box hungrily before shooting osamu a quick smile.

“you order from the pizzeria often?” osamu rubs the back of his neck, handing you the box with his other hand.

“hm? oh yeah. the workers there, your coworkers, i mean–well, the ones our age, at least–are my friends and give me tons of discounts,” you blurt, shrugging your shoulders.

“ah, so you’re y/n then?” osamu asks, taking the money carefully out of your hands.

wait a minute…he kNoWS MY NaME?

“uh, yeah… how’d you know?” you ask, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“the other guys, four of ‘em at least, talk about you a bunch. and that first time i delivered pizza here, they asked if we met.”

“oh,” you mumble, feeling your heart fall in your chest. you didn’t think that the boys would ask about you, especially after you practically said hi, paid and then proceeded to shut the door on him so quickly. normally, you would’ve made small talk but you, whenever nervous or embarrassed, run out of conversations as quickly as possible.

“don’t worry! i didn’t tell them you were rude or anything since we didn’t talk much. i just said you looked comfortable.”

“comfortable?” you raised your eyebrows and when you remember, your widen in horror. oh god, he does think you’re a lazy bum.

“you know, with the whole blanket covering you like a cute blanket burrito,” he shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets.

did he just–

did he call you cute?

“oh,” is all you can reply, clutching your arm with the opposite hand. you focus your attention on your feet in attempt to distract yourself from blushing. it doesn’t work.

“they think you’re great, by the way. the way they talk about you, it’s like you’re some sort of goddess in their lives.”

grinning at his statement, you exclaim with a clap of your hands, “it was about time they admitted it!” ah, thank goodness for the mention of your best friends or else you would’ve still been a flustered mess.

laughing at you, osamu eyes squinted slightly and you swear to your pizza that your heart stopped.

how can one be so handsome?

it really isn’t fair.

“well, I gotta go deliver the rest of these pizzas. i’m osamu by the way.”

“it was nice meeting you, osamu.” you nearly swoon as you watch him descend your porch steps.

“you too, y/n.”

“oikawa, I’m ordering my usual,” you didn’t even wait for the boy’s greeting when you dial the pizzeria’s phone number.

“again? y/n that’s like the second pie this month!”

“okay and?”

“it’s not even the middle of the month!”

“i’m hungry okay? and there’s nothing to eat,” you lie, staring at the fresh bag of groceries your mother had bought earlier that day.

“fine, but instead of a whole pie, how about a slice and some garlic knots? too much cheese isn’t good you know…”

“thanks, dude-”

“this time, just asked the guy out, okay? i don’t think he just wants to talk to you when he delivers your pizza.”

“shut up.”

“it’s just a suggestion~” he croons before hanging up the phone.

if only you could’ve been like your friend who basked in the attention from the female population and had the courage to speak to them. if osamu looks at you for more than five seconds, you instinctively avert your eyes from his and although you’ve gotten over most of your awkwardness around him, you’re far from being able to ask him out.

“y/n, i hate to break it to you but… you have a pizza problem,” osamu states bluntly, as soon as you opened the door following the doorbell chime and familiar call of pizza. “i’ve delivered how many orders now?”

gasping, you place a hand to your heart. “how rude to be insulted in my own home.”

the next month soon came as did the heavy heat. the once somewhat breezy weather turned to a sticky one and if it weren’t for the air conditioner in your home, you’d be suffering from heat stroke. you had to give the pizza delivery boy some props. even in the high heat, his smile never wavered. although, he did allow himself to complain to you from time to time.

“technically, we’re outside your home,” osamu replies in a flat tone, giving you a pointed look.

“touché.” you grab the bagged food from him and place it on the coffee table before returning back to the door. “how’s the work day going anyway?”

osamu nods his head from side to side. “meh, it’s been okay. the sun is alright since i’ve been in the car for most of it. most of my day has been at the actual pizzeria, though.”

you nod with a thin smile and you’re about to bid him a goodbye when he looks down at you with slight curiosity.

“can i ask you something?”

swallowing thickly at his gaze on you, you nod. “sure?”

at your question-sounding answer, he elaborates. “i just have something to tell you and it depends on your answer.” his voice is serious but the slight smile playing on his lip makes you feel more at ease.

“go for it.”

“is there a reason you’re ordering so much pizza?” osamu asks, his eyebrows wiggling in amusement.

“o-oh um.., yeah?” you nod slowly. “i love pizza.” you quirk an eyebrow in slight confusion, wondering what he was insinuating.

“besides that,” osamu sighs, raising an eyebrow.

oh, yeah. it’s just an excuse to see your handsome face since i’m too big of a wimp to ask you out or for your number.

“i come from a long line of lactose intolerant people so i really like to rub it in their faces,” you yawn for a bored effect. were the facts states true? maybe, maybe not.

“you sadist,” osamu tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly at you. “you’re going to develop an allergy of some kind.”

“don’t jinx it!” you’re quick to say. “without me, your tips will go plop.”

“maybe so.” osamu shrugs, looking up in wonder. “but witnessing that would be rich.”

“who’s the sadist now?” you snort, looking away briefly to suck in your cheek, in attempt to hide the playful smile. “the guys at mario’s tacos wouldn’t treat me this way.”

at the name of the familiar restaurant, osamu scowls. “you wouldn’t.”

“i don’t know. their combos are looking real good lately. maybe they’ll get a new regular customer soon.”

“pfft,” osamu scoffs, catching your bluff. “you’re friends from aoba johsai wouldn’t let that happen.”

he reads me too well. and he already knows the dynamic between me, dumb, dumber, dumbest and iwaizumi.

“don’t you have other house to deliver to?” you change the subject, looking off in the distance, crossing your arms.

“yeah, yeah.” he waves you off. “i’ll see you the next time your order pizza then,” osamu

“wait what were you going to tell me?”

“awh, i’ve gotta run.” osamu fakes a deep pout, tilting his chin down as he walks away from your house. “guess that means i’ll save it for another time.” with a wink, he waves a hand in greeting.

you’re quick to stick your tongue out back at him but when he rounds the corner and he’s out of sight, your expression falls.

stop that, you think, feeling your cheeks flush deeply. you step inside and close the door behind you, lightly patting your cheeks in hopes of cooling them down.

are you being a tad bit obsessive, ordering all these pizzas?

probably.

do you care?

not at all.

with a hand full of delicious food, all that was left to wonder was what osamu was so adamant on telling you. the race of your heartbeat reveals your deep desires but your head reminds yourself to stay calm in case it was something diminutive.

the next time you order from Say Cheese, you were expecting a conversation similar to the ones you’ve had with osamu; with the usual teasing and playful bickering, only this time you’ll make sure to ask him about what he wanted to tell you. however, to your dismay, that wasn’t the case. when you swung open your door with your usual smile, you freeze in place at the familiar pinkish brown haired boy.

“osamu, nice to see– what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the familiar boy.

makki stands at your door, lightly rocking on his heels with a grin. at your question, he scowls. “he’s off another route. asked me to deliver,” makki shrugs holding out your pizza for you.

“no, no.” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “isn’t osamu my delivery guy, not you?”

lifting his eyebrows, makki retorts, “yeah but i was yours first. i’m the blueprint!” makki watches in disbelief as you pout, looking down at the ground in disappointment. he was aware of your crush on his coworker from oikawa but he never expected you to get this serious about him. how could you be frowning at him? last makki checked, he was your favorite.

“did your boss change routes or something?”

with a sour expression, makki shakes his head. “said he had an emergency delivery and asked me to cover just for today.”

“oh,” you nod in understanding, reaching out for your food.

“i did hear the i’ll be right there, princess when he was on the phone before he ran out though…” makki winces at your expression.

princess?

he knows a princess? (>‘o’)>

wait no, that’s dumb. (-_-;)

he calls someone princess then? (◕ ‸ ◕)

your hands fall to your sides.

“y/n, it’s probably nothing to worry about-”

“he must have a girlfriend then, right?” you whisper, twisting your lips to the side of your mouth. “i hate to jump to conclusions–”

makki snorts to himself. “you always jump to conclusions.”

“–but that’s a reasonable possibility right?”

after a long pause, makki nods. “i guess. you should just ask him honestly.”

“no way! now that i know there’s a possibility that he’s already seeing someone, i’ll be mortified! when i had the courage to reveal my crush to him, that was when i didn’t know anything. now that i have that in my head, my doubts are everywhere!”

“isn’t it a little much though? you can still casually ask him if he has a girlfriend.”

oh, makki. you believe in me too much.

“can you take the pizza now?” makki asks, lightly pushing the box in front of your face,

“i’m not that hungry,” you mumble, “i don’t want it anymore.”

“y/n/, take the damn pizza and pay me please. i’m a broke boy who needs money.”

your eyes flit from the pizza box to makki’s puppy-dog frown. nodding silently, you took out the ten dollars from your pocket and pay the boy. “here.”

you can’t give a valid reason why you don’t call the pizza place for deliveries anymore. was it fear of facing osamu with the though of him and some other girl? was it because you’re afraid of admitting to the fact you’re most likely in the friendzone? or because you were stalling what he wanted to tell you that made you wrack at your brain?

it was probably about a girlfriend. maybe his news was ‘hey, i’m no longer forever alone, like you!’

you wince at your own thoughts, eyes darting away from the t.v. screen playing an already watched episode of your comfort show.

you’re settled on your couch, munching on some late night cereal. normally, the idea of breakfast at night made your heart content but compared to the usual cuisine you ate at a time when your fridge was empty, it just wasn’t the same.

you mentally curse at yourself for not buying more pizza when you walked over to the pizzeria earlier in the day… yeah, that’s right. you’ve been so nervous facing osamu that you decided to walk over to the pizzeria and meet the faces of your bewildered friends. there’s no way in hell you’d willingly walk over to the pizzeria in the middle of such a hot month, so they were sure something was up.

their suspicions were proven correct when osamu stepped in from the break room, announcing he was back and before he had a chance to look at you, you left the pizzeria with a quick wave and a bid of goodbye.

that was the new cycle. you visit the pizzeria for your discounted pizza and leave when osamu’s near. you’re sure he hasn’t seen you yet, well you hope so at least.

a small part of you scolds yourself for being so childish about something so fickle. even if osamu has a girlfriend, you shouldn’t be avoiding him at like the plague. but, with your dignity in mind, you’re sure if you were to face him again, you’d either grow incredibly sad or flustered for crushing on a taken man.

there was also that subtle thought in the back of your mind that he was leading you on with his banter. either that, or you just couldn’t take the hint of a friendzone. really, you thought your relationship was going in another direction. guess that’s the power of a blinding crush then.

as you scoop a slightly soggy spoonful of cereal, the doorbell rings.

amazon packages at this hour? really?

“pizza delivery!”

knitting your eyebrows together in confusion, you wrap the blanket previosuly covering your legs around you. still holding the bowl of cereal in one hand, you walk over to your front door.

“sorry, i didn’t order pizza…” you trail off, staring at osamu, who isn’t wearing his Say Cheese!Pizza uniform, holding a box of pizza.

“i know. i did,” he grins, gesturing to the pizza with a nod of his head.

“oh…why’re you here?”

“you hadn’t ordered pizza in so long, i thought you died,” osamu frowns, widening his eyes. “then again, i did see you those few times at the actual pizzeria but you seemed to leave every time i got off break.”

oh god. he noticed.

be cool.

rolling your eyes at his dramatic expression, you lightly scoff. “i’m alive, don’t worry about me.”

he smiles at that and for a split second, you’re reminded how much you missed seeing his face. then reality sets in.

“so, if that’s all you’re here for,” you put your hand back on the knob to close the door.

“woah, wait!” osamu cuts you off, putting his foot in front of the door, stopping you from closing it. “i can’t eat this pizza all by myself!”

“i’m not hungry,” you lie with a shrug.

“yeah, I can obviously see that,” osamu replies sarcastically, raising his eyebrow as he eyes the bowl of cereal in your hand.

“why’re you really here, ‘samu?” you ask again, sighing. with the mixture of how late it was and his presence, you just aren’t in the mood.

“i wanted to see you,” osamu murmurs under his breath, looking down at his feet.

“you wanted to see me?” you raise an eyebrow.

“what do you mean? of course i did. you know how many times i went by your house, expecting to drop off a pizza when i realized you didn’t order one?”

"oh.”

a pang of guilt hits your chest at the sadness laced in osamu’s voice. you practically ghosted him with no explanation. where you lost a potential love interest, he thought he lost a friend.

“you must’ve got tired of the pizza, huh?” he asks, looking back up with a crooked smile. “i told ya, too much pizza wouldn’t be good.”

“that’s not it,” you mumble. this time you’re the one avoiding eye contact.

“oh?”

“i just,” you start shyly, forming the thoughts in your head. “it’s actually really stupid.”

“it’s the breadsticks, isn’t it? they don’t taste the same, right?”

“oh my gosh, it’s not me who noticed that?” your head perks up as your eyes widen. clearing your throat, you shake your head. “wait, no. that’s not it either.”

“then what is it?”

“that day you made hanamaki fill in for you…he told me something.”

at osamu’s head tilt, you continue. “he said you called someone princess over the phone? and, i don’t know, it’s really stupid. i have a habit of jumping to conclusions so i assumed you had a girlfriend and i though it’d be awkward for me. it surprised me, too. not because you’re not attractive or anything! you’re very attractive! but, like, you never mentioned anyone and i thought we-”

“y/n,” osamu cuts you off calmly. “breathe.”

“right,” you nod, catching your breath.

“i was calling ‘tsum a princess,” osamu says when you stand up straight from your slightly hunched figure, previously grasping at your knees.

“…your brother?” you look up at him, tilting your head slightly.

“he was being a whiny baby about the discount and he had plans so i delivered the pizza to him.”

“oh.”

time to go order some clown shoes.

“yeah,” he nods, lips quirking up at your blank expression. “and what’s this about a girlfriend, hm?”

“it was an assumption! i’m sorry!” you wave your hands frantically in front of him.

letting go of the pizza box with one hand, he engulfs both of your hands in one of his to stop your waving. “i didn’t even tell you i had one and you still assumed that of me? how judgy, y/n.”

“osamu,” you whine. “i didn’t mean to! i just thought that was the thing you wanted to tell me!”

“the thing?” his smile falters as he registers your words.

“yeah. that thing you said you’d have to wait for next time for?”

“ah, yeah,” he nods. “nope, that wasn’t it.”

“i feel awful.”

“you can make up for those three weeks by sharing this pie with me then!”

your eyes soften and you nod. “yeah, yeah.” you open the door to allow him to enter but you stop him as he meets the frame. “wait.”

“yeah?”

“can’t you just tell me the thing now?”

“mm, no. after dinner.”

“it’s nine o’clock.”

“did you have dinner?”

“…no.”

“after dinner,” he repeats with a smile.

“so you find me attractive huh?”

at his question, you choke on your pizza, coughing violently as osamu laughs. you glare as he offers you a bottle of water but take it nonetheless.

after letting osamu into your home, you both sat at your meal table, enjoying the food he brought. he ordered your usual…whether it was something he knew from memory or something he asked one of your friends about, you didn’t know, but nevertheless, your chest warmed at the gesture.

“i was rambling! you should never take me seriously when i ramble.”

you knew he was attractive in his uniform and you nearly swooned at the way he adjusted the black cap with the pizzeria’s logo embroidered on it, but seeing him in casual clothing was something new and dare you say, yummy. you were aware his hair was a dyed grayish from the bits the peeked out of his hat near his ear and slightly matted to his forehead, but seeing it, styled and all…mans is just built different.

“oh, so i’m not attractive then,” he muses with a nod.

“no! i didn’t say that! ugh, you’re teasing me.”

“c’mon, it’s cute. you were all scared and blurting everything all at once.”

“it wasn’t cute on my part. i was nervous…”

at your slight frown, osamu’s expression changes. “i don’t mean to tease ‘ya in a mean way.”

“it’s not that,” you mumble. “i just feel like you’ve connected all the dots and you know what’s in my head but I don’t know what’s in yours.”

you have a weird way of wording things but osamu understands.

he’s obviously teasing you, but that’s the relationship you’ve had with osamu for the near month you’ve known him.

is he being like this in hopes of reducing the slight awkwardness because you know that he knows that you like him? you didn’t have to outright say it but why else would you avoid him after finding out the possibility that he had a girlfriend? you were flustered about it, sure, but anyone could see it was a sure sign of jealousy.

“mhm, maybe i have connected the dots. but you can connect them, too.”

“what do you mean?”

“y/n, it’s nine p.m. and i decided to come here of all places to share a pizza pie with you because i missed you.” osamu face remains neutral as he speaks and you miss the way the tips of his ears turn red. “what could that honestly mean?”

“you miss being my delivery boy?” you guess.

“and…?”

“and you miss my tips?”

osamu slaps a hand to his forehead. “no.”

at your silence, osamu sighs with an easygoing smile. “oikawa said you were kind of slow.”

“prick,” you scowl, looking off to the side, noting that in your head. looking back at him, you muster a hopeful smile. “can you just tell me? first the thing and now this? you’re a whole mystery.”

“they’re the same thing. same conclusion.”

there’s a short silence that follows and you gnaw at your lip in thought.

“y’know,” osamu breaks the silence, scooting closer to you, “as sweet as it is seeing you blush and think hard about it, i think i’m seeing smoke come out of your ears.”

“hey!”

“i was planning on asking y’out,” he blurts, deciding to give in. if he’d waited for you to figure out, he’s sure you’d be sitting there in silence for at least another ten minutes. “i asked you if you ordered so much pizza for a reason to see if i could catch a reaction from you…if you felt the same.” at your lack of response, he continues, “i didn’t really know what happened since you stopped ordering for a while. i kind of assumed one of the guys found out about how i felt so they told you and as a way of showing me you didn’t feel the same, you stopped ordering.”

“oh.” you face falls. “that wasn’t it.”

“i know that now,” osamu emphasizes with a light scoff. “you were flustered about me calling someone princess, that person being my twin…”

“okay, fine! i was a little presumptuous…but, if anything, this is makki’s fault!”

“oh yeah?”

“he didn’t have to tell me what you were saying on the phone, nonetheless, not confirm anything…he was all, ‘i dunno, that’s all i heard.’” your voice lowers in pitch as does your tone, mimicking your best friend.

“or,” osamu pipes, wiggling his brows in amusement, “consider this: maybe ask me next time?”

“i couldn’t face you for more than a few seconds at a time without short-circuiting and you expect me to ask if you’re single or not? ‘samu, you have a lot of faith in me,” you sigh.

“i still find that hard to believe. you’ve kept conversation with me for weeks now and got me to like you, so you must’ve been doin’ something right.”

“believe me, the sun wasn’t the reason i was red all the time…”

“ah, so that thing about your skin bein’ sensitive was a lie?”

“…maybe.”

osamu lets out a chuckle, tossing his used napkin into the empty takeout bag. “y’know often times, when the boss wanted to change things up in case anyone was disliking a particular route, he’d allow us to change. i sort of found it strange how the guys were so adamant on me delivering around here but now that i know they were just being four cupids all along, it makes sense. of course, initially, i thought it was me they were being cupid for but…guess not.”

he smiles softly at your flushed cheeks and squeezed shut eyes.

“osamu, i know we’ve established that we like each other–i think–but, you can’t keep saying these things that make me all gross and flustered.”

“you blushin’ is cute, though,” is all he replies, leaning over to poke your cheek. “and i ain’t gonna stop saying them.”

“i’ll just run away from you then, covering my ears.”

“that reminds me. you’ve been sneaking to and from the pizza place for your pizza and whenever you saw me coming, you ran away. i have that much of an effect on you-”

you cut off his nth attempt of getting you flushed – how much redder can you get? this was an odd situation to be in, if you’re being honest – by leaning forward and pecking his cheek. osamu’s voice is lost in his throat as you pull away slightly and he blinks at you a few times, opening and closing his mouth but no words come out.

“ah, so this is the satisfaction you must feel,” you nod to yourself, expression relaxing into an easy smile that mirrored osamu’s from just a few seconds prior. “getting people shy sure is fun.”

osamu soon shakes out of his daze, grin widening at your boldness. taking advantage of the mere centimeters between you, he leans forward, seizing your lips with his. you’re far too stunned to be embarrassed at this point and it isn’t until your brain replays the memory of the first time you met the boy kissing you, that you react.

who knew the blanket burrito could actually end up with the cute delivery boy?

simp nation stay winning. ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

you pull away for air first, smiling slightly as he chases your lips with his eyes closed.

“a kiss without a proper date? shame.” you shake your head in mock disapproval.

osamu opens his eyes and cocks an eyebrow upward. “i mean, i consider this a date, don’tcha?”

with an airy laugh, you nod, “i guess so.”

osamu beams at the slight flush of your cheeks. it isn’t like the beginning of the night when you were embarrassed out of your mind, heart racing in anxiousness. no, it was one of those flushes of excitement. warmth.

“that’ll be $7.97 for the food, by the way.”

“osamu!”

“i’m kidding!”

BONUS!

“mattsun, aren’t you supposed to be home watching your siblings?” oikawa’s head pops out from behind the counter, watching as the taller one wipes down tables.

iwaizumi, who was covering for the register nods in agreement. “yeah, you should be home…”

“yeah, osamu asked for me to cover and then left with y/n’s usual so…” matsukawa replies with a slight nod and shrug. “and my mom said she was home to help them with homework so it’s fine.”

iwaizumi and oikawa share a look.

“so he’s finally done it. iwa-chan, i think you owe me ten dollars. c’mon, pay up.” oikawa holds his palm out, folding his fingers over it a few times.

“we don’t know that,” iwaizumi huffs, looking over at his friend in slight annoyance. “maybe he likes y/n’s order and needed to get home.”

mattsun and oikawa send the boy at the register a flat look.

“look, i’m just saying, we don’t know if osamu is confessing to y/n. we’ll know by tomorrow if y/n says anything…”

oikawa covers a hand over his mouth and whispers in mattsukawa’s direction, “i’m expecting that bill in my hand tomorrow.”

“listen, you little shi-”

“guys,” makki appears from the break room, rubbing his nose, “i think someone’s talking shit about me. i keep sneezing.”

963 notes · View notes

foundtherightwords · 2 years ago

Text

Drive

Pairing: Eddie x Chrissy

Summary: What happened between Eddie and Chrissy during the ride to his trailer, or why Chrissy "left that van smiling", in the words of Grace Van Dien. Inspired by this lovely art, and also a bit by the song "Drive" by The Cars (hence the title).

Warnings: a bit of angst (I didn't set out to make it angsty, but my hands just slipped), brief mentions of drug use, idiots in love

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I did it! I wrote a one-shot! My brain kept whining the whole time "Where is the plooooooot", but I did it! Big thanks to @harritudur for the inspiration!

"Shit," Eddie mumbled under his breath as he opened the door of the van and a whiff of stale odor assaulted his nostrils. The ashtray was full to overflowing, old clothes and discarded sketches and outlines for his old campaigns were scattered around and under the seats. Eddie never cared much about the garbage piling up in his van, usually just pushing it to a convenient spot if it was in his way, but not tonight. Not the night when he was going to drive Chrissy Cunningham back to his trailer.

He grabbed a plastic bag and started throwing things into it willy-nilly, while keeping an eye on the school entrance for Chrissy. There were still a few stragglers in the parking lot, and she was probably waiting until it was completely empty.

Chrissy Cunningham. It still didn't feel quite real that she had not only approached him, but also agreed to come home with him. Eddie tried to stamp down the excitement that had been coursing through him since that afternoon, since she'd asked him to meet her in the parking lot after the game. Don't be stupid. It's just a drug deal. Nothing more. But even as he told himself this, his heart couldn't help beating faster when he remembered the way she had smiled at him, the way she had lifted her eyes to him before looking away again.

However, as the parking lot emptied and there was no sign of a strawberry blonde cheerleader making her way toward him, his anticipation waned, to be replaced by disappointment. What if she didn't show? What if she decided that this whole thing was a Big Mistake and wanted nothing more to do with him?

He dropped the plastic bag back on the floor of the van, not caring that the garbage was spilling out again. He tried to tell himself that this hollow feeling in his stomach was due to the loss of a potential customer, but he knew it wasn't true. Perhaps it was just as well. What the hell was he thinking anyway? Just because she'd laughed at his lame jokes and remembered his lame band from six years ago and now he was entertaining the idea of—No. Obviously, she was just being nice to him because he had something she wanted. He had to remember not to mix business with pleasure next time. Not that there had been any pleasure this time. Not really.

A tap on his shoulder made him jump.

He whirled around and there she was, in her green skirt and white hoodie with "Chrissy" embroidered on the front. "Sorry," she said chest, with a little smile that still lit up her face. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Did she do that on purpose, echoing the exact same words he'd said to her when they met in the woods that afternoon, or was that just a coincidence?

"It's OK," Eddie said, hoping the butterflies in his stomach weren't actually visible.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to wait until the squad's all gone home."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I was waiting for Jason."

Eddie wanted to ask what she told Jason, but the mention of that prick left a sour taste in his mouth, so he said nothing.

Chrissy, probably mistaking his silence for nervousness, continued, a little breathlessly, "I told Jason I was going home, and my parents think I'm with him. So don't worry. We'll have plenty of time."

That wasn't what he was thinking about, but he appreciated her effort to reassure him.

"Sure you want to do this?" he asked, and immediately wished he hadn't, for the sparkle in Chrissy's eyes abruptly dimmed, like stars getting hidden by clouds.

"... Of course," she said, but didn't sound too confident. "It'll be fun."

He wanted to kick himself. Whatever her reason for wanting to try the Special K, it wasn't any of his business. Reminding her of it clearly only stressed her out.

"Then your chariot awaits, my lady," he said, stepping aside and extending a hand toward the open door. At the last moment, his eyes caught a single limp fry wedged in the back of the passenger's seat, a remnant of Corroded Coffin's late-night snack after their weekly Hideout gig. He plucked it out and rammed it into his pocket just in time.

Chrissy didn't seem to notice. She gave him another smile and got in. Eddie followed, hoping that he'd gotten rid of the worst of the smell, and that she wouldn't see the garbage bag shoved in a corner in the back like a dead body.

He saw her struggling to close the door on her side. "It's a piece of shit, sorry—no, you have to twist the handle that way—" he said, but she couldn't quite get it. Without thinking, he reached over and shut it for her.

"Thanks," she said softly. Eddie felt her breath on his cheek and realized, belatedly, that their faces were mere inches apart. He shuffled back into his seat, lowering his head over the wheel, so his hair would hide the blush creeping over his skin.

He started the van. The cassette player roared to life, belting out Master of Puppets, which he'd been practicing in the past few weeks. "Sorry," he said, fumbling for the stop button, but Chrissy put a hand on his arm.

"No, leave it," she said. "I don't mind. It stops me thinking."

He glanced at her, concerned, but she must've realized she'd said too much and drew her hand back, before turning to look out the window. Her fingers were icy cold as they brushed against his wrist, and he felt a sudden urge to reach out and hold them, to rub some warmth and life back into them. But he only reached for the volume knob and turned it down to a reasonable level.

"So, uh, good game?" he asked, as the van rattled down the dark road.

"I thought you didn't care about games where you toss balls into laundry baskets," Chrissy said.

Fuck. So she'd heard his soapbox speech. Well, of course she'd heard, the whole cafeteria had heard, that was the point, but he didn't think she would remember. He glanced at her. She was grinning at him, her slightly crooked front teeth making the smile all the more mischievous. Adorably so. He had to make an effort to tear his eyes away from her and turn his attention back to the road. Stay focused.

"I don't," he said. "I only asked because—" Because of you, he wanted to say, but what came out instead was, "Because Sinclair decided it was more important than Hellfire and I want to know if the twerp regretted it."

"Tell me about Hellfire then," she said, sitting up.

"Nah, you'll probably find it boring."

"I won't. Please. What do you guys do?"

And so Eddie launched into an enthusiastic explanation of D&D, perhaps a bit too enthusiastic, but he noticed that Chrissy never once looked bored. If anything, her eyes were fixed on him with delight. No. Be careful. Don't mix business and pleasure.

"And Sinclair gave that up for basketball, can you believe it?" he concluded.

"Well, he did score the winning point," Chrissy said, still smiling.

Huh. Good for the kid. Eddie tried to scowl, but Chrissy's knowing smile was making it difficult. She could see right through him, yet there was no mockery or smugness in that smile. It was just... teasing.

"You're happy for him, I can tell," she said, confirming his thought. "Why do you have to hide it?"

Eddie shrugged. "Have to maintain my mean and scary reputation, I suppose," he grumbled.

"But you're not."

"Hey, no need to flatter me, you already got the 25% discount," Eddie said, half-joking. "Do you want me to give you the Special K for free or what?"

Chrissy's face fell. "Oh, no. No, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Shit. Why did he have to bring up the deal again? Why couldn't he pretend they were just... hanging out... as... friends? She said it would be fun. He wanted to make it fun for her, but it seemed he was incapable of keeping his foot out of his mouth.

Chrissy fumbled in her pocket and pulled out several bills. "Actually, you don't even have to give me the discount," she said, holding out the money. "You're already going out of your way to help me. I'm paying you the full amount."

At the sight of the money, Eddie's pretended irritation turned real, but he didn't know if it was with Chrissy or with himself. He had no reason to be mad at Chrissy. She was always going to pay him. This was a drug deal, after all. She hadn't given him any indication otherwise. If he thought it was going to lead to something else, then it was his own damn fault for being such a fool. Yet he couldn't help stop that feeling of disappointment, of disillusion, from weighing him down.

Suddenly he saw how stupid the whole thing was. He was taking a girl—and not just any girl, the Queen of Hawkins High herself—back to his trailer to give her drug, a drug she'd never used before, a drug he himself had only dabbled in. What if something happened?

"I don't think we should do this," he said, pushing away her hand with the money in it.

"What?" Chrissy stared at him. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

"Nothing! It's just—"

How could he explain? It wasn't just the fear of something going wrong. It was more because he was afraid that if he sold her the drug, then that would be it. She would take the drug, he would take the money, and the next time they walked past each other in the hall at school, it would be as strangers again. He wasn't sure if he could handle that. It would hurt too much.

"Please, you're the only one that can help me. You're the only one that knows," Chrissy said. "Please, Eddie." That was the first time she called him by name, and fuck if it didn't feel good to hear. But he steeled his resolve and shook his head.

"I just—I can't, OK? Sorry. Let me drive you home."

She turned to the window, her eyes brimming. Cursing himself, Eddie reached for the gear stick to put the van in reverse. As he did so, his finger grazed her knee, just barely. But it felt electric, sending a thrill through his arm that lasted much longer than it should have. He withdrew his hand and peeked at Chrissy through the fringe of his hair. She was still looking out the window, chewing her lip. With a sigh, he grabbed the gear stick again.

Just then, he felt a slight pressure on the side of his hand.

He looked down.

Chrissy had moved her leg a smidge, pressing it against his hand.

He looked up. She wasn't really looking at him, but she wasn't not looking at him either. Her eyes were turned away from him with a bit too much determination.

Eddie thought about reaching for her hands, by way of apologizing, of convincing her that she had done nothing wrong, that he was doing this for her own good, but Chrissy was keeping them folded in her lap, away from him. He realized they were both holding their breath, their bodies poised over some unknown precipice, waiting for the other to do something, to take that first step.

Slowly, he extended his pinky until it touched her leg.

He exhaled, and felt, rather than heard, Chrissy do the same, almost imperceptibly.

Then Chrissy nudged her leg a little closer. Eddie felt her smooth skin under his calloused fingertips, cool against the burning heat of his palm. She was trembling slightly, and he felt a pulse form inside him, matching hers. He pressed down a little more tightly, squeezing her knee in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

To answer it, she lifted her knee, and his hand slid further down her thigh.

Time stretched around them, elastic, breathless. Metallica continued to blare in the background, but Eddie no longer heard it. He held on to Chrissy and looked into her eyes, and found his gaze returned. In those blue, blue eyes, he saw the answer to all his questions, all his doubts. This wasn't just a drug deal for her. This could be something else. This would be something else, if he was brave enough to reach out and take it...

CRASH!!!

They both jumped, and Eddie's hands flew back to grip the steering wheel. The van, left to its own device, had just swiped a garbage can. Eddie realized, with both dejection and relief, that they were already at the turnoff to Forest Hills Trailer Park. He looked back at Chrissy and saw his fluster reflected on her face. The moment was gone.

"Almost there," he said, clearing his throat as he pulled the van roaring into the park.

"Oh" was all she said.

"You, uh, still want to do this?"

"Yes," she said. There was no hesitation this time.

The van rolled to a stop. Chrissy opened the door without waiting for him, but Eddie wasn't disappointed. In her firm answer, he had seen some glow, some warmth lingering between them, an ember rather than a fire now, but it would flame to life again, given the chance.

"This is... uh, my castle," he announced, sweeping his arms toward the rickety trailer. That earned him a smile, and he felt that glow again as he remembered the way her leg had trembled under his hand, and the answering pulse from deep inside him. The night was not over. And later, perhaps, she would let him drive her home.

And they had a lovely time in Eddie's trailer and later he did drive her home and nothing bad ever happened to them 🥲

#hellcheer #hellcheer fic #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic

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aeferkssr · 2 years ago

Text

“good morning, welcome to the shop! how may i assist you today?~”

GENSHIN IMPACT DR SELF

fan page for my fav script🫶 i love you my genshin script🫶

possible cw: soft angst, lots of jamaican references, cianna says box cover😱, cianna calls herself a furry (once), reality shifting terminology, not x reader

CIANNA - POTESTAS DEORUM

a young lady brought to teyvat by the power of foreign gods. embers, reignited again to serve a new purpose

CHARACTER STORY I

long and boring. those were the words cianna used to descibe her days, every day it was the same thing. on weekdays it was: wake up, get ready for school, try and convince teachers to give her an extension on overdue work, feel left out, walk to mommy’s office, get home around five or six in the afternoon depending on the traffic, try to complete homework and study for upcoming exams, hear her father complain about her wasted potential, brush teeth, tie down hair, and sleep.

the weekends were a a little bit better, she would get to sleep in a bit but would still need to wake up early to attend her extra lessons. this continuous cycle of trying and trying but never seeing results wared the young girl down. you would swear that she looked a little bit paler, or a little more tired than the last time you two met, but exams were coming up so that was to be expected.

oh how she dreaded the word. just the mention of the upcoming may-june exams had cianna’s mood drop to alarming levels. she wished that she could just run away from it all, all her unfinished SBA’s, all the teachers who seemed to want to do nothing more than make her life miserable, the people who ignored her for sport, but most of all, she wanted to run away from herself.

the feeling of overwhelming guilt washed over her frail body constantly. you did it back then so why can’t you just do it again? its really not that hard to focus on whatever the teacher is saying, just do it, dimwit! every day that cianna woke up she wish would be her last. maybe when she’s gone people will recognize that she was worth being around. after all, you never need something the most the second you can’t find it.

life wasn’t worth living if you had nobody to live it with.

nobody seemed to give her the time of day anymore. maybe she was too “out there” and made them all uncomfortable? maybe they all hated her from the start but never did anything about it until now? maybe… maybe cianna was unlikeable.

continuing on with cianna’s boring daily routine, she had just received a call from her school’s office that she had just been suspended for something she didn’t do. cianna, who is beyond numb at this point, looks up to the sky trying to delay her tears just for a little longer. the walk in the sun was terrible, as she relied on muscle memory to steer her to her mother’s office. starting the day off with being publicly humiliated by peers and ending the day with a suspension on her record. could the day get any worse?

“do you want to leave, my child?”

great, now she’s delusional.

the same voice continued to call for cianna for the next week, flooding her dreams with epic sceneries and ruins that were overflowing with mystery. in one of these dreams she sat in front of a coldron as it bubbled with unidentified liquid, and in another she soared through the sky on what seemed to be a broomstick. cianna laughed to herself when she woke up, maybe if she told someone about this they would burn her alive… and at the time, it didn’t seemed like a bad idea.

cianna barely pushed through another day at school before having to walk down to her mother’s office for the day. muscle memory took over once again on the short walk as cianna heard the strange voice again. she stopped in her tracks just to check if there was anyone around her, she didn’t want to look as crazy as she felt. with a deep breath, cianna contined walking not before answering the unfamiliar voice with a small “yes”

cianna herself still doesn’t know what happened there because the next thing she knew, she was floating. panicking a bit, she squirms around the pitch black sea trying to gain balance and also looking around to try and find an explanation, cianna wasn’t that smart so a long and in detailed explanation was due.

a light shone from behind her, as she quickly spun (or a quickly as she could) around to meet eyes with a glowing figure. the rather androgynous figure shone with a soft yet bright light behind it. their jet black hair, that rivalled the darkness that surrounded you two, swayed as their pure white clothes did. their grey eyes pitted the widened obsidian eyes that stood before them. as cianna snapped out of the trance that they unintentionally put her in, she speaks up, her voice slightly trembling:

“who are you? and where am i?”

the being simply smiled and answered:

“i go by many a name, but for now you may call me ze█r██ll”

cianna didn’t quite hear the name it said, but pretended that she did and nodded

“and as for where you are” they continued “you are in the void.”

she looked around the so-called “void” with a look on her face that said ‘what kind of hippee, flower-sniffing, scooby-snack bullshit is this?’

it chuckles as if it just read her mind,

“the void is a place that connects all universes and realities. it is the passing ground of those who shifts their subconscious minds at will, and a resting place for those who wish for a moment of peace. it can be seen as what you humans call a bus park”

“but with less wolmerians?”

the being chuckles once more, this time covering its mouth with the back of their palm,

“yes, dear. with a lot less wolmerians”

ze- uh.. ze-something reached into its pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. it looks up to cianna again before turning the long hand anti-clockwise. another source of light appears as it shows a lush forest, briming with both flora and fauna. the little fox-like creatures that run around chasing each other to the grand fir wood trees that housed birds, all of it looked so peaceful.

as cianna looks back up to the deity, whom she has underestimated their height since they basically tower over her, it spoke:

“i have been watching you for a while, cianna. watching you has entertained me to no end, and i am one who repays what is due” they gesture to the portal. “i have traversed through this world once, the people there are unforgettable and are sure to welcome you with open arms. go. experience what it is like to be wanted, to be loved, and most importantly: to have purpose.”

cianna couldn’t see clearly because of the tears that wheled within her eyes. she couldn’t even say thank you, she just looked back at the portal, then to the deity, then to the portal again with her mouth ajar. the tears fell and the only thing that came from her mouth was “thank you.” she has never really understood the term ‘tears of joy’ until now.

with a slightly runny nose, and a dizzy head from bowing down repeatly, she used her arms to help her manoeuvre the void. before she could “swim” through the portal, the psuedo-deity had one more thing to say:

“when you find your way in inazuma, give my regards to the general of the watatsumi resistance and the kamisato clan’s housekepper, if you will.”

cianna nodded, although confused as to what an ‘inazuma’ was, and turned around to say a final goodbye and thank you to ze- …maybe she should really ask them to repeat their name., but ther was nothing their but the void. despite this, she still shouted a quick goodbye before pulling herself into the portal created, awaiting her very first adventure in the land of teyvat.

CHARACTER STORY IV

if you were looking for the girl that, as the adventurers say, fell from the sky all those years ago, she would be found in the favonius library with her nose stuffed in a book. you would think that she would be reading some sort of fairy tale due to her youthful face, but in actuality she is running on pure impulse to look for materials for the spell shes about to cast.

cianna swishes a bubble of air in her mouth before letting it go, she had found the spell she was looking for! cianna quickly gets up, dusting off the sundress she usually wears and jumps around with the book clung close to her chest. she swiftly borrowed the book at the reception and made her way back to her small witch hut.

now, is this the best idea cianna has ever come up with? absolutely not. but! who would dare to bring her down when shes practically skipping through the whispering woods on her way home? cianna even starts to hum a soft tune, something she use to obsess over as an infant. cianna’s really healing her inner child today!

making it home, she takes off her shoes and shut the door quickly behind her. cianna placed the book gently onto her bed, and went to go and find the ingredients for the potion. when she returned, the coldron (which she set to boil prior) was ready to be used. she names off the ingredients before putting them in

“flowing spring water, to dash as fast as a hare, slime condensate, the better to bounce with…”

cianna continues to list off the ingredients one by one. when the final ingredient is added, the caldron erupts with smoke and reveals a portion of the coldran’s interior filled with a light pink substance. cianna squeaks as she runs to find a bottle to hold her concoction in. she comes back with a triangular base flask and scoops up the liquid at the bottom, all of it following itself into the flask

“good thing i made one serving, i would of blown the roof off if i didn’t” cianna says as she looks up to see small water droplets dripping into her coldron, most likely the steam from earlier condensing. cianna takes a deep breath before shouting::

“down the hatch!”

the texture of the slime condensate with the potion made it an awful experience. but, if she was being honest, it really wasn’t that bad. soon after the potion settled, the side effects started. cianna wasnt expecting such instant resulte and was shocked by the sudden headache. the pain was unbearable, she threw herself onto her bed and muffled her screams with her pillow. she couldnt even think straight, why is she doing this to herself.

well, a few hours late (all of those hours cianna has either been crying, screaming or sleeping) the results finally came. a charming pair of rabbit ears crowned her head and a fluffy tail poked out from over her underwear. of course, other features like increased stamina, a bigger appetite and even bigger feet came on later but cianna was beyond happy with herself!

“damn, i look like a furry”

years later, cianna looks at her acheivement as a baby witch with a sense of pride, but also bone-crushing embarassment because why would you actually do this..?

CHARACTER STORY V

cianna has always longed for a relationship. she desperately wanted someone who she could rely her innermost feelings to, and trust wholeheartedly that they won’t leave. she would read all manners of fiction, the main character and their love interest living together happily ever after. but when was it her time to feel such bliss?

where cianna was raised, relationships were bound to end up failing. literal blood was shed because of failed relationships and she wasn’t about to go get herself killed. men were so wicked and lying and deceitful but so were the girls, nobody could win in situations like these. yes, cianna has had her own relationship experience, but burnt herself out because most of the effort was put onto her. both her lovers ended up breaking it off first because they had lost feelings for her, but she struggles to figure out whether she had feelings for them in the first place. maybe it wasn’t a fear of being rejected, but a fear of rejecting someone.

coming to teyvat didn’t make it any easier. the people who were in her age group, at least she thought they were, were too busy seeking out their own adventures, their own passions. thus, cianna decided to dive head first into what she was passionate about, witchcraft. more specifically, metaktisis, summoning magic. her faunal features and the small flying ball of energy she named gabby were all results of this.

cianna was so happy that she could finally see her hard work bloom into fruition. something she could never achieve back in her old world. plus, the people of mondstadt and their affinity to freedom gave her all the reassurance she needs. maybe she doesn’t need anyone after, she i quite content in how she’s living now.

the witch rests her chin in her hands that are placed onto the dark oak stall where she sold her potions, one hand reaching to fidget with the tip of her left ear out of habit. cianna hasn’t known true tranquility for most of her life, so she basked in the fading glow of the sun.

“wakey wakey miss!” a childlike voice brings cianna out from her trance as she faces foreward to be met with flying shoes and a toned abdomen. clearly, the flying shoes didn’t peak her interest as her eyes trailed along the masculine figure from his navel all the way to those bright golden eyes of his.

“woah…”

cianna stared at the boy for a little longer before the flying shoes cleared her throat. quickly snapping out of her trance she fixed her pink dress and straighten her hat before pretending that absolutely nothing happened

“good evening guys, welcome to my shop! can i help you with anything?”

the blonde finally spoke after being in a trance of his own

“well… we wanted to see what this shop had, since we are kind of new here.”

new to mondstadt? or new to teyvat? but cianna knew better than to ask someone she just met their whole origin story.

“well im glad you asked! i sell a variety of potions i make here myself…” cianna starts to ramble off about her potions as the blonde stood there and listened with a big grin on his face. this didn’t go unnoticed by cianna, of course. she had always thought that her potion rambles were boring for those who weren’t witches but he stood there and listened for the whole time. the two had even started talking about completely different topics.

unfortunately for both travelers the sun ha already set and a bright full moon shone down on the pair. paimon had long fissapeared into wherever she goes to leave the two "lovebirds" alone.

"box cova, its a full moon! it completely slipped my mind... and i was suppost to close up early today" cianna said as she ran around the stall picking up her belonginfs and placing them onto a blanket. she 5ook the edges of the blanket, tied them to the end of her broomstick and quickly sprinted out the gate.

aether's smile never left his face and his cheeks were hurting because of it. joy turned into confusion as he saw cianna eunning back to him, broomstick still in hand.

"hey, whats wro-"

he couldnt even finish his sentence before the witch placed a small kiss on his cheek. cianna looked back at aether for a breif moment before fixing her hat and running iut the gate again.

aether doesn't think he's smiled this wide in years, the conversation thag lasted about an hour only felt like a few short minutes. he didn't even know your name, nor did you know his. but little did he know, that won't be the last time he saw you.

a day or two later, cianna set out to help a long time friend of hers run an errand. both of them were in an never ending game of IOU as it was her turn to return the favour. why they had asked her to meet at the church of favonius at midnight was beyond her, but it seems like something he would do.

"hey venny!" she waved, with venti's specific order in a basket she was carrying.

"well, if it isn't my favourite witch! how are you, cia?" he says before returning a quick side hug

"other than curious as hell as to what you need to be invisible for, i'm doing okay"

venti laughs as he jestures to the boy that stood beside him. you gasped when you noticed who it was:

"you're the cutie from a few nights ago!" cianna exclaimed as the so-called "cutie" flushes at the compliment.

"oho? so you two know each other?"

"mhm! he listened to my rant about my potions so of course i'd remember him!"

"but blondie aside," aether flushes once more at another nickname was given to him "what do you need these for, ven?"

venti ushers cianna to come closer as he takes off her hat and watches as her ears stand up. cianna leans down further to allow venti to whisper his plans into her ear. cianna's other ear twitches as venti finishes relaying his plan

"you're going to steal the what.?"

tagging ; @elychee || @0rah-s

zephyrll belongs to @/elychee

#shifting #shifting realities #shifting to genshin #shifting to genshin impact #aether genshin impact #venti genshin impact #oc #desired reality #what else do i tag this?#tagging is so annoying when yoy dont know what youre doing

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

champagne lane | 06

banner made by the iconic @dnrequests / @dee-ehn

summary; you and jungkook have your own little celebration by the lake pairing; dilf!jk x best friend!reader (f) genre/warnings; angst, longing, pining, mc is a homebody, unrequited love (or is it?), potential idiots 2 lovers, best friends 2 lovers, mentions of sex, alcohol use, profanity w/c; 1.4k a/n; yes im excited to say part one is done! as i was thinking of the title i was like “wow this really sounds like mc and jk had s*x” but they not tehy’re not omg >_< also i know that sometimes it feels like things are omitted with sena/jk’s drama and whatnot, but i think that’s the fun of it since it’s a drabble series! you can envision and put the pieces n’clues together to see how far severe their relationship is. part 2 will start on tuesday, enjoy your weekend! [day by day masterpost]

A little beacon in the moonlight, Jungkook watches you curl up by the lake, your head popping up right where the moon leaps over the water. Making sure the baby monitor is connected up and running to the guest bedroom, he sneaks around the kitchen island, on a mission to find his peace offering.

“You literally ran the party from top to bottom, why the hell are you still up?”

You look up from the little nest you’ve created in the outdoor patio glider, and Jungkook holds up a chilled wine bottle and two champagne glasses.

Holding up your phone you reply, “I just got off the phone with a cousin of mine. Figured I’d enjoy the view for a few minutes before heading off, but a nightcap won’t hurt.”

Jungkook carefully pours the amber liquid in each of your glasses, making sure the bubbles don’t overflow at the lip. He sits gently on the swing, making sure not to jostle the two of you. Gently brushing his fingers to yours to hand you your drink, he gestures to his glass so they clink together softly.

He watches as your body curls underneath the blanket you brought, feet disappearing and brushing against his thighs. Planting one foot on the soft grass, Jungkook gently swings the both of you into a soft rhythm.

“So, did you like the party?”

“Of course, I’ll never forget it,” Jungkook smacks his lips together, enjoying the warmth the sweet liquid brings to his face, “did you?”

Jungkook genuinely hopes you had a good time. Everytime Haru smiled, tried something new, jumped like a maniac in the bounce house, Jungkook would turn around half-expecting you to be there and share the moment. Sena was there, and his parents were there, which was also great. But it was you that searched town to search for all the new desserts Haru would like, you that booked the bounce house, you that made Haru so happy on her special day.

“Yeah, I’m happy no one poked the bounce house with those lamb skewers,” you relax against the swing, kicking your bare legs. “Would kill us if we didn’t get that security deposit back.”

“I felt like I had a little too much fun,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, eyes clinging to the beautiful reflection of the moon-filled lake, “you did way too much work, you know that?”

You continue to swing your legs mindlessly, “You had a crazy year. You deserved to be happy with your daughter on her first birthday.”

He doesn’t understand how you could downplay how awesome you are. Amazing, completely. Even dressed down in a ratty old college t-shirt and shorts, you still are a dynamite human.

“So, where’s Sena?”

He almost forgets about the events that conspired not two hours ago. He slumps forward, his shoulders feeling heavy as he reflects on his last conversation with Sena.

“She left,” Jungkook shrugs, swirling the honey in his glass, “got a call from her manager and took the first flight out of here. I think it’s decided,” Jungkook affirms, “she’s not coming back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” and you truly sound sorry. You put your finished glass down on the ground, and you reach over to put your free hand over his, “I know how much you wanted this to work,” you bite your lip nervously, “and I may have told her off today at the party. So it could be partially my fault.”

This interests Jungkook greatly. He raises a brow, running a hand through his dark chocolate tresses. “You, telling someone off? And I had to miss that?”

"It was probably for the best," you rub your neck sheepishly, lowering your head, "I just told her that if she wants to be part of you and Haru's life, she needs to be all in or all out. I'm sorry if that's overstepping—”

“You’re my backbone,” Jungkook slices through your rambling, pointedly looking at you and hoping you'd reach his eyes.

“It’s just one party, Kook. No big deal—”

“No, you’ve always been my backbone, you know that?” Jungkook says, tone serious, “I know, it’d be selfish for me to expect that you’ll be around forever. I thought maybe you'd be around for a week after I called you, but twelve months later for some reason you're still coming around," he chuckles, "but honestly? I wouldn't have wanted to do this with anyone but you, including Sena."

"Kook, you don't mean that—”

He squeezes your hand purposefully, "I do. Even if I date and find someone new, I still want you to be a part of Haru's life. Thank you so much, for taking care of her."

"Oh Jungkook," you lean your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist. The warmth of your skin seeps between his sweatshirt, and he subconsciously tenses at the intimacy, "you know that I'm not doing it just for Haru. I'm doing it because I care about you too."

"Fuck, don't make me cry," he half jokes, but he's thankful you're looking at the moon because he does feel his eyes grow wet. He shoves his cheek against the crown of your head, relishing in your touch. Of course, the intuitive person you are, you squeeze tighter around his body when you sense his need for affection, "so, we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

The two of you relax against each other's warmth, silently admiring the beautiful night. The stars manage to seep its way through the navy blanket in the countryside, illuminating the backyard with speckles of glitter. Jungkook doesn't know how long he sits there, swinging lightly with you.

A familiar ring tone startles the both of you apart, recognizing the familiar chime coming from the baby monitor app.

"It's Haru," he gets up, grabbing empty glasses and wine, "probably needs a change or something."

"Oh, can I please do it?" despite being tired through your bones and muscles, you pop out eagerly and follow him inside, "I barely saw her today."

Jungkook smiles fondly, "Of course."

The both of you pad barefooted into Namjoon's house, careful not to wake up the other guests. In Jungkook's bed, there's a pillow fence casing Haru around the perimeter of the mattress, making sure she doesn't fall off.

She isn't crying or anything, just awake. She kicks and swings her body around like a starfish, suddenly interested in the lace trim blanket that looks transparent around her ankles.

"Hello bubby," you whisper excitedly, using the rocker on the wall to bathe the room in a low yellow light.

You don't think twice, scooping Haru in your arms spinning slowly around the room. You do all the checks, running your fingers over her onesie for any drool or sweat, you pinch her diaper to see if it needs to be changed, and most importantly, you give her a little kiss in greeting.

"Bu bu," Haru says, a big smile on her face, “Mama!”

He watches from the doorhenge, as if he's intruding on a moment. Jungkook half-expects you to correct her. He watches your expression carefully, ready to take Haru away from you if need be.

But instead you snuggle her tighter and murmur, "Yeah, I'm here."

bonus.

For some inexplicable reason, Jungkook is still awake. You’ve occupied his guest room, snuggling with Haru. The bed is big enough for the three of you, but he’s still plagued with thoughts, caught by how picturesque the two of you looked, warm and comfortable.

“Yo,” Yoongi is sleeping on the couch, dressed in only his boxers and an oversized sweatshirt. He stumbles into the kitchen, reaching for the water container and a plastic cup.

Jungkook watches Yoongi pad through the island, as if he’s walking through molasses, thick with sleep. He’s gotten to know Yoongi more closely up until Sena left during her first visit, not intentionally, only because whenever he invited you, Yoongi attached himself at the hip.

Jungkook supposes Yoongi is a good guy, even after the heartbreak in college. He still holds a minor vendetta to that for hurting you, but since you’re all smiles and laughs he supposes he can call it a truce.

Yet his bittersweet thoughts materialize without a second thought, “Are you and her dating?”

Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat, chuckles as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, “No.”

“Oh, are you planning to ask her out?”

“Nah.”

“Why not,” Jungkook’s face falls, so much with disdain Yoongi fights the urge to reel back, “she’s a great woman. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have her.”

“Yeah, but not the woman for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #bts fic #dilf!jk

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sukisangel · 4 years ago

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Lover of mine | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Author's note: Hi! This was based on the song “Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of summer.” So I recommend listening to it while reading it! Hope you all enjoy it!

Warning: Angst, swearing, soft smut at the end.

wc: 2.1K

“Lover of mine, maybe we’ll take some time,”

“Katsuki, I can’t do this anymore! I’m tired of always fighting you.”

“You are such an ungrateful brat! Do you think I’m not tired too, dammit? At least I’m not the one who sits home all day doin’ nothing, but fuckin’ complaining! I have to save the fuckin city every. single. day.”

“Kaleidoscope mind gets in the way,”

“Doing nothing? Katsuki, I’m the one who fucking clean this house! I’m the one who fucking cooks breakfast and dinner for your sorry ass! And you have the audacity to say that I am the ungrateful one? When you never thanked me once!?”Hot tears that had previously obscured your vision now cascaded down your sensitive cheeks as you screamed.

“HAH? Who’s the one who puts the fuckin’ food on the table? Who’s the one who works the entire day fightin’ those jerks to keep you and other shitty lives safe?” He screamed, stepping closer to you. "Exactly! I fuckin’ do it! Try being a fuckin’ pro hero for once, y/n! For fuck sake!” His vermillion eyes that once held love and comfort,now staring coldly at yours, which made a shiver run down your spine.

“Hope and I pray, darling, that you will stay,”

“Whatever. I’m leaving. I can’t keep up with your bullshit right now, y/n.” He scoffed, turning his back to you, walking towards the entrance of the apartment. Your heart shattering in a million pieces like a stone thrown at a red vitral, with the lack of a pet name that once made heat rush to your cheeks.

“Yes Katsuki, leave that fucking door to see what happens to us.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the tall male in front of you.

“Butterfly lies, chase them away”

“Oh ya wouldn’t.” He laughed at you. His words were laced with venom, hitting you like bullets.

“Oh watch me. The moment you leave that fucking door, we are so done Bakugou. I can’t go back to that shit again!” You hiccuped as more tears clouded your vision as your legs trembled. “I just know that you’ll go to that fucking cheap bar again and get your ass FUCKING DRUNK! M-maybe even hook up with that bitch you cheated on me with!” Your tone matching his. Which made him recoil at your words as his heart dropped to his stomach.

You batted your eyes in an attempt to get rid of the clear salty liquid that had accumulated on your waterline. Oh, how you miss the times when he would go out of his way to ensure you never felt lonely.

“I’ve seen the red, I’ve seen the blue, take all of me”

Every memory the couple had built together flew over their sight, making the world fall from their eyes. What was once toned purple between them now faded to a blue-ish tone, the red no longer noticeable.Sorrowful recollections stood in striking contrast to joyous reminiscences, causing the couple to gradually crumble.

“I'll never give you away 'cause I've already made that mistake. If my name never fell off your lips again, I know it'd be such a shame”

Distress coursed through the lovers' bloodstream as their voice chords burned from many of the angry remarks hurled at one another. It seemed as though they were standing on the precipice of a cliff, with just one step forward to bring all of it to a halt. One small action that has the potential to alter everything.

His eyes tracked your trembling body, while you inhaled rapid and shallow breaths over pursed lips. The blonde's eyes, which were overflowing with regret and despair, welled up with tears.

This was Bakugou's biggest fucking dread. He despises all of this. He despises the thought of losing you.He despises his friends for lying to you and accusing him of cheating on you. He despises the idea that you still believe in them rather than him, your own lover. He loathes the fact that it caused the two of you to break up once. He fucking hates it.

“When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you’re the only thing I think I got right.”

“Let's talk this through, baby. ”Katsuki muttered, caressing your head on his chest after he brought it to rest. He could not even recall how or why the fighting started. The one person he had sworn to always look after and cherish, was now hurt as a result of him and his actions.

“ I watched the world fall from your eyes. All my regrets and things you can’t forget, light them all up, kiss them goodbye.”

Bakugou’s chest was tight as he settled the two of you down on the bed. His fingers found yours, being mindful to not trigger you in any way. “I’m sorry, ” The boy whispered against your forehead, leaving a soft and warm kiss against it. "What I said was unfair, I shouldn't have told you that stuff. I was insensitive." The blonde says, uncharacteristically.

“I apologize as well, ‘Suki.” You backed away from his chest, tears stinging your eyes once again as you sniffled.

“Hey. look at me, princess.” His pointer finger and thumb lightly grazed your chin, causing you to raise your head to look at him. “Let me demonstrate how terribly sorry I am, sweetheart.”He grasped your face and crushed his lips into yours without even thinking about it. He fully expected you to yell at him and shove him off. Nevertheless you came to life under him, your fingertips firmly grabbing his hair whilst you urgently kissed him deeply.

“Dance around the living room, lose me in the sight of you. I've seen the red, I've seen the blue. Lead to where your secrets are, where we've been a thousand times. Swallow every single lie. Take all of me”

"Let me make love to you tonight, ok?" Katsuki said, pulling away and kissing the crown of your head as you nodded.

Your lips were drawn to his like magnets once more. Every emotion was expressed throughout the touch, which was scorching and intense. Frustration and yearning, anguish and sorrow, passion and lust were all present.

Your legs slid around his torso as you shifted your position on top of him, drawing him closer to your body. Grinding down on his lap, you could feel that he was already hard beneath you. A moan of desperation escaping Bakugo’s mouth. Both of you panting heavily as he backed away from your lips.

"I love you so fucking much." Bakugo murmured softly as his lips brushed against your jaw, biting at the sensitive skin, earning him a gentle whimper from you. His hands made their way beneath your shirt as his calloused fingertips caressed your side before softly tugging on it soughting for your approval.

You swiftly yanked the top off your head as his palms traveled to your soft mounds, tenderly squeezing it. “yer beautiful.” he murmured under his breath, staring down at your bare body. Your chest heaving with desire and need, as a few crimson and purple bruises formed around your collarbone. “Tell me what you need, princess.”

“Y-you. I need you ‘Suki” You beg your boyfriend for him, amidst passionate kisses and slow drags of your hips atop his hard on. It was all he needed and wanted to hear before picking you up and throwing you into the king-sized bed.

He quickly stripped off your guys' clothes before looming over you. Sucking and nibbling at each and every exposed skin. He intended to mark you, to leave his love bites all over your soft skin as a remembrance that you were his, and he was yours.

His knuckles brushed lightly across your dripping core. Carefully rubbing his fingertips along your folds while studying you as you moaned at his touch. Your thighs expanded wider as his eyes captured the strings of slick connected between your parted thighs. “Katsuki,” you whimpered softly as the sound reached his aching cock.

“Shit, you're soaking wet for me,” he muttered, thrusting his fingers inside your fluttering hole. Bakugou's touch was gentle and compassionate, in stark contrast to the harsh roughness of his skin; his hands moved with delicacy. His eyes are greedily fixed on your slit before he wraps his lips around your aching clit. As you gasped for air, your chest rose and fell at a quick speed. You felt yourself squirming and whimpering as a result of his interventions.

He sucked sweetly at your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth across it, before sliding his mouth lower and brushing his tongue along your folds as his digits caressed your sweet spot continually. “‘Suki, I’m gonna-” you didn't even complete your statement before you sensed yourself unwind, your body collapsing into a heap of tingly bliss as you came all over his finger.

“Fuck, just like that. Good fuckin girl." Bakugou growled as he removed his fingers out your wet hole. His tongue hung down from his mouth, licking the liquids that dripped down his finger, savoring everything you had to offer. "You look so fuckin’ pretty like that. I love you so damn much.” The blonde murmured this while smacking his lips against yours.

You grumbled at the way that you could flavor yourself in his mouth. "I really need you right now, sweet girl." As your lips withdrew from one another, the boy panted. Although the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave you, his comments causing your cunt to throb with greater desire than before.

"It's all right, ‘Suki. You've got me." You mewled quietly, your large dough eyes on him. He let out a low, raspy groan as Katsuki held your hips, gradually pressing into you. In an instant, your arms encircled his strong body. Hands gliding down his back muscles and fingernails scraping softly across his spine before curling them over his neck. Bakugou couldn't envision pouring every inch of his adoration into deeds to demonstrate his absolute love like he did to you, to anybody else.

You moaned loudly as he stretched you to the full, reaching deep down inside you until coming to a halt. He paused for a while, enabling both of you to relish the fact that you were finally linked. "Katsu, please move." You cried as he came to a halt in his thrusts, remaining still as he showered you with kisses. His cock pulsated nicely inside your warm pussy as your walls fluttered around it, hoping for a small friction to occur.

Hot puffs of breath tickled your skin as Bakugou snuggled his head on the valley of your breasts, pressing his lips against it. "You're doing so well for me, princess," he hissed, rolling a firm nipple between two fingers before slowly twisting and tugging on it.

Once he listened to your demands, his tip brushed against that sweet spot inside of you over and over, making you throw your head backwards. When he senses that you can take his teasing no longer, he quickens his speed, forcing his body into yours. His breath is hot on your skin, murmuring to you with his mouth near to your ear, "I love you, beautiful. I'm sorry for being such a dickhead to you." Making you whimper lightly at his words.

Every tilt, thrust, and roll of his pelvis has just one purpose: to have you moaning his name for the millionth time that night. His fingers worked their way to your clit, pressing and rubbing circles against it. "Fuck, fuck. You are so perfect, baby girl." His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he groaned heavily.

“ I'm close ‘Suki.” You moaned, clawing his back even harder than you were a few minutes ago, leaving bright red scratch marks on his pale skin.

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” Once those words left his pink lips, you wailed, unraveling under him, gushing your release around his member. Your walls are tightening in on his cock in a fantastic way. He roared, thrusting harder and harder into you. With one more hard and deep thrust, thick streaks of cum shot out of his slit, filling your insides with his warm seed.

While you both panted for oxygen after your climaxes, your body collapsed on his, your soft mounds squeezed against his hard pecs. Bakugou kissed your whole face before burying his lips into your neck, quietly groaning as he drew his softening cock out of you, causing you to hiss at the loss of warmth.

“I’m sorry once again, baby. I love you.” Bakugo said, pecking your lips gently while caressing your hot cheek.

“It’s okay, ‘Suki. I love you too.” You spoke, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck.

“I know you’ll never forget all my mistakes or all my regrets. Just know you’re the only thing I got right, Lover of mine.”

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ratcatcher0325 · 3 years ago

Text

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #13)

Chapter #13. Natalie reveals some new information that gets Alexander all excited.

Previous: Chapter #12

Next: Chapter #14

CW: Angst, injury, adult language

Tag list: @gatlily @grbene @patrocolus3 @lucentbliss @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo

________________________________________

A FRACTION OF JUSTICE

Chapter #13: Breaking Bread

Word Count: 2,758 Read Time: Approx. 21 mins

[Alexander’s POV]

She placed me on her desk, seated with my legs stretched out before me. I felt very…. Exposed… to put it lightly. The second the pressure from the pads of her fingers subsided, I heaved a sigh of relief. She trained the blindingly bright desk lamp on me and then excused herself to grab some supplies.

Left to my own devices, I took in my surroundings, cursing my injured leg. Now would be a perfect opportunity to slip out of sight. A desk was always a wonderful piece of furniture to be placed on because it was practically guaranteed to have easily claimable cables that snaked all the way to the floor. The desk, like everything else in this pigsty, was a disaster zone. Papers of all kinds, notepads, sticky note squares, pens, textbooks, empty glasses, a wadded up napkin, and now me. A student’s hovel if ever I saw one…. Which I hadn’t, but I could imagine. I grimaced. Part of me seethed with jealousy. Oh, to be allowed to pursue a higher education. Being plopped onto a desktop made me feel like I was right back to square one: being used by a human as a tiny, unpaid and under appreciated secretary. A dark cloud hung over my countenance.

This desk was up against a windowless wall, a cork board overflowing with pinned notes, reminders, memorabilia and photographs littering its surface. It loomed so far directly above me, however, that I couldn’t make out anything in the way of details. To the right, was a streaked, dusty full length mirror, just beyond that was a closet door in the corner of the room. Along the perpendicular wall were two windows, with the blinds pulled almost halfway shut. I watched as the rain battered the glass and shook the wispy branches of the young tree planted outside. Directly across from where I sat, was her bed. Unmade, of course. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Her matching bedside tables were littered with jewelry, mail, even more empty or half filled glasses. How much water did one human need?? As I scanned from left to right, I noticed a bra, flung over the lampshade. My face flushed hot. And I stared at my hands. No man in turmoil has ever benefited from thinking about that when the chips were down.

Perhaps I was being unfair. She wasn’t anticipating company, after all. Not that she considered me company. Perhaps she’d normally clean up more. I hoped so. I’d like to think she wouldn’t want her private undergarments on full, potentially flammable display. Beyond that, was a bathroom door, I wondered if it was the same one I’d already been in, or if that was a separate bathroom entirely. Darkly, a smirk played on my lips. It was hard to keep track of architecture at my size. Especially being carted about with no sense of direction. I had to get better at that. The more I knew the lay of the land the easier it would be to escape.

Finally, against the bathroom door wall, was a large mirrored dresser. At this point I think it’s unnecessary to add that it, too, hardly had an inch left of visible counter space. I swallowed. Pain was coming back to my shocked, weary body. I’d gotten some relief from the hot water until I’d been unceremoniously plucked from the basin. My face turned red, again. It had only been a moment, but I supposed she’d now seen me naked. I was never comfortable outside of three layers of tailored wool or polyester. This egregious embarrassment of a smock was nearly as humiliating as being entirely nude.

I dug my fingernails into my scalp. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something. How much more suffering am I meant to endure?

Just then, she burst through the door. Speak of the devil….

“Woah, hey, little fella… you okay?” She rushed over, and her face swooped in far too close for comfort. I could feel the warmth radiating from her cheek. I cringed and leaned away.

“I’m fine… just a headache. I’m fine. You’re much too close to me, back off.” Her brow furrowed, hurt. I heaved a sigh. You’re acting like a child. Please, I can’t handle one more immature, emotionally volatile, overly grabby human. At least for today, try to behave like an adult.

She flashed me a look. But bit her lip as she settled into her chair, and grabbed a large, square, plastic bottle, brown with a white cap, and unscrewed the lid. Hydrogen peroxide, I assumed. Ah, she’s going to try to keep my leg from getting infected. Good. So she’s not completely dull and useless.

She pinched a cotton ball between two fingers, and tipped the contents of the bottle into the fibrous material. This was going to hurt. She saw me staring at the soaked cotton in her fingers.

“Hey, this is gonna sting a little bit, but it’s going to help—“ stop with that condescending tone of voice!

“I know how hydrogen peroxide works.”

“Okay! Jesus, I can’t read your fucking mind. I don’t know everything you’ve ever learned!” She pursed her lips. I eyed her suspiciously as she leaned over me, fingers drawing ever closer. She didn’t seem to notice, or care.

The rough cotton made contact with my rent flesh. My eyes watered but I was determined to power through this and give her zero opportunities to fawn and fuss over me. God, that burns!! That would have been bad enough, but this imbecile decided it would be a great idea to rub the wound, despite the fact that the cotton was more than big enough to cover the entire area. The coarse fibers, extremely coarse for me, at my size, were practically digging into and raking my torn up knee.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing? That hurts!!”

“I told you it would, didn’t I?” She pointed a finger at my chest. I didn’t like how big they were: her fingernail, painted an awful shade of green, was almost as large as my face. “You were all shitty and dismissive but I tried to warn you…” No, you small minded giant… it’s the fact that you’re scraping the first layer of my epidermis, or what’s left of it, clean from my leg. That’s what hurts! She started raking even harder now, out of frustration.

“OWW!!! Stop it! Just stop! Give it to me, you don’t even know how to—let me do it myself!” I lunged for the cotton ball, my fingertips barely brushed it. I couldn’t reach. My blood boiled as I watched a smile curve her lips. She was playing with me. I was immediately reminded of those two brats in the library… and my life’s work, gone in a moment. Snarling, my chest exploding with rage, “GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!”

“Goddamn! Okay, okay! What the fuck is your deal, little man?” I snatched it out of her grip, pressing the cool, burning liquid to my tattered, fizzing wound. I clenched my jaw through the pain.

“What is my deal??? I’m a highly intelligent, sentient, genetic offshoot to Homo sapiens, that’s you, by the way, in case you weren’t aware, that is effectively enslaved to my evolutionary cousin simply because I’m smaller than you. I can’t even meet my own basic needs without relying on you ignoramuses for help. There is no dignity in this life! That, is my deal!!!” She stared at me wide eyed. I was red in the face, chest heaving, arms crossed squarely over my chest.

“Well…fuck. When you put it like that—“

“Don’t curse! It’s unbecoming and a sign of lower intelligence.”

“Excuse me?”

Ah, I see you need me to explain the insult. With pleasure! “It delegitimizes your argument and makes you appear emotionally immature.”

“Where the fuck did your smart ass come from? Who taught you to speak like that?”

Doubling down on the utter lack of intelligence and emotional maturity, I see. Certainly fits the profile. “No one taught me. I taught myself. Well, the old man, technically, taught me to read…. Or, finished teaching me… all those years spent as nothing more than a living, breathing text to speech algorithm… and I have nothing to show for it.” I swallowed the lump that was rising in my throat. I was giving her far more detail about me than I’d ever intended. I course corrected, “It was extremely lucky for me, I suppose, that he never figured out how to use his phone for all that or I’d have been out of a job…”

She stared at me, completely lost, “W-What?”

At this point, I’d finished soaking the wound. The chemical had popped, fizzled and settled, the pain dulling with it. I plopped the wet, bloodied ball on the desk beside me, “Never mind, forget it. Can I have something to eat, now?” I was halfway to fainting at this point. It was hard just to keep my head upright.

“Oh!” She scoffed, “Are you in the habit of asking for things after insulting people?”

I shrugged, halfheartedly, “I’m sorry,” She crossed her arms, leaning her elbows on the desk only a few inches from me, her body casting a shadow as she towered over me, raising an eyebrow. I sighed rolling my eyes. Humans and their power trips!! “Okay, I’m sorry. Can I have something to eat, please, my dearest and most wonderful human caretaker whom I love with all my pathetic and adowable widdle heawt??” I clasped my hands together in a mockery of pathetic begging. Is that what you wanted to hear?? I stared daggers at her.

***********

I was gonna kill him! If I didn’t leave the room right now I was going to wring his shitty little neck. “Fuck you…” emphasis on the fuck, you little motherfucker. I jabbed him in the chest, not enough to hurt, but to clearly communicate my disapproval.

With that I leapt up and walked out the door. I was seething. The one part he’d said about how unfair it was to be treated as less than.. that made sense and I could empathize with his frustration… but, what had I done? I could have locked him up in a cage or tortured him or stomped him to death.. but I didn’t… well, I did put that bowl over him, but only for, like, ten minutes! That didn’t count! Why was he so pissed with me, when I was just trying my best to help?

What a little asshole.

I headed to the kitchen, anyway. Remember, Nat, you promised yourself you’d keep him alive wether he liked it or not, and he, clearly, does not. Ugh, why did I have to be a good person?

Washing my hands, I paused, trying to think of what I had already prepared that I could give to him. I had Mediterranean style chicken and grilled veggies… glancing at the ceramic toothpick dispenser shaped like a hedgehog on the counter, I had an idea. I re-entered my room with a saucer, plated nicely with three little shish-kebabs made from toothpicks, of course, alternating with grilled bits of chicken and veggies in a tiny, colorful display. I even drizzled them with tzatziki, using the tip of an egg spoon.

The moment I set the plate down, before him, he practically began inhaling the food, not even bothering with a ‘thank you’. “Careful it’s… hot…”He’d displayed a quiet dignity, an almost balletic grace about him, even when dangling precariously from my pantry shelf. Not so now. He was as ravenous as a starved rabbit, his teeth tearing and chewing almost faster than he could bother to breathe. I watched, shocked. “Haven’t eaten in a while, huh?”

He simply shook his head, refusing to pause for a moment. Poor guy, clearly he was starving. I wondered when he’d eaten last. His face was turning red as he continued to eat, “Woah careful there you’re gonna choke yourself. I don’t know if I can do the Heimlich on you without accidentally breaking your ribcage so…”

He paused, staring up at me through his brows, his cheeks losing all color. He shifted awkwardly, “What? It was a joke,” really? All that fearless attitude in the face of someone twenty times bigger than you, and that freaks you out? “Do you have no sense of humor? I’m messing with you. Eat.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

I watched, my chin propped up on my elbow as he licked the second toothpick clean. His curtained bangs, cascading into his eyes, he shook his little head every now and again to clear his line of sight. You’re a total asshole but you’re kinda, almost cute. Maybe, now that you’re eating you’ll be less of a little sourpuss.

Tentatively, I reached out a finger, approaching his little head. His eyes snapped in my direction, before he scooted away, “What do you think you’re doing??”

“Well… I was just— I thought, you’d be less… sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“Scare me? Did you not hear a single thing I just said? I’m eating for crying out loud! Don’t touch me!” Jesus, you’re insufferable. Maybe I’ll just stick you in a hamster ball and throw food in there a couple times a day. Have fun not ever being touched and being all on your own, wise ass! I tried to breathe. He wanted to be respected. I could appreciate that. He didn’t want to me to reach out and touch him, fine. I wouldn’t push the issue.

I realized I felt a little disappointed. I guess I’d thought we’d made a tiny bit of progress what with the food as a sort of peace offering. I thought maybe he’d let me interact with him more. It wasn’t my fault he was so damn adorable!

I cleared my throat, trying to start over, “I… uh, I haven’t actually told you my name, yet… I’m—“

“Natalie Elena Marquez. I know. I saw your lanyard in the pantry.” He finished off his last few bites, “You attend Harvard, so clearly, you aren’t entirely inept.” I scoffed. Did you just insult me again? My hand twitched reflexively. You’re lucky you’re cute, little man. I’m getting closer and closer to ‘accidentally’ dropping you. “What’re you? Twenty years old? Studying what? Business Communications? Psychology?”

“I’m twenty-eight and I’m going to law school! Jesus fucking Christ!! You’re seriously fucked up you know that? I don’t know if some former owner of yours dropped you on your head a bunch or something but I hope you do realize I saved your life, twice in fact, today. You’re right, the world does see you as something little better than a domesticated animal. Maybe I should start doing the same? I’m choosing to be kind to you, but that can change real quick…”

“Yes, yes, that’s all fine… did, did you say law school?” It’s like he hadn’t heard a single thing I’d said.

“W-What? Yeah….”

************

My jaw was practically on the floor. This mess of a human? In law school? It seemed laughable. But none of that mattered. I now had vicarious access to Harvard Law School. My heart thundered in my chest. I could do the exact same routine with her that I had with the old man…. I could rebuild my case. Maybe, I could even manipulate her into taking me to the library itself… the four-hundred year nexus of legal study in this country. Then, I could run off, into the depths of legal volumes, never to see her again! I felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn’t believe my good fortune!!!

“Why are you looking at me like that???” I was snapped out of my fantasy. I shook my head and shrugged, my bangs falling in my eyes. Under no circumstances could I allow her to know. This was my secret. I wouldn’t have everything taken away from me again. I cleared my throat, trying to play it cool.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I wasn’t… w-what face?” Nice cover there, Alexander!

“Yeah, you looked almost… happy? I didn’t know your shriveled up little heart could feel such things… what got you all excited?”

“Nothing! Nothing… I’m just… fascinated by… uh, court room dramas??” Why on earth did I end it like a question?

She just stared at me, brows raised. I held my breath, waiting to see how she responded to my terribly delivered lie.

#He finally gets to eat!#Poor man is surprisingly terrible at lying #A Fraction of Justice #oc:alexander #oc:natalie #g/t related #g/t community #g/t au #g/t #g/t angst #g/t fluff #gtcommunity #gt #gt community #giant/tiny #g/t writing

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