#they’re visiting next week so in my head I’ve been like ‘what are the things I want to talk to them about’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months

Text

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n part two! Thank you for everyone who read the first one. So glad some of you liked it so much. 🫧🤍

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warning: past trauma, scars

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“No threats, nothing," Azriel dropped the report down on the table. Rhys had been the one to go meet with Autumn’s high lord. Bringing back the reports of everything that had been happening the past three days. “Eris said that everyone still thinks she’s there," Rhys stated. They planned on spinning a lie about you visiting an old relative, but it was better if the people who had inflicted the first attack would be misled about your true location.

“This could have been a one-time thing," Cassian hums, flipping through the report himself. “Or someone is waiting for the right moment," Rhys links his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “Why her?”, Cassian frowns. Yeah, Azriel asked that too at first. You didn’t seem to be magically gifted. There was nothing special about you, as far as he was aware. “Eris said she’s a weak link," the spymaster muttered.

“They’re close? That would explain things," and Cassian was right there. Love might be the worst weapon to have. Once, it slipped into the wrong hands. Azriel let out a sigh.

“Considering how he delivered the news, he loves her a lot. I believe, besides Lucien, she’s the closest to him." If he was being truthful, he hadn’t given it much thought. Here in Velaris, he could leave you on your own devices for the most part, at least. He didn’t need to trail after you. There was no need. Azriel had eyes almost everywhere.

“We’ll figure something out. I will ask around to see if something is stirring." Rhys leans back, his eyes now fixed on Azriel, “How are you?”. Azriel tries to hold back to not roll his eyes. “I’ve been fine for two weeks ago." And he was. Yes, his left side still hurt. The scar was deep and rather long. Rapping around his ribcage. Not to mention that he had pulled the stitches out way too many times. “Don’t start this," Rhys says bluntly.

“I could be up at the camps doing what I do best," Azriel points out. Itching to pick this topic back up. “Dying in the snow?"—that was a straight blow from his brother. Rhys hadn’t been able to say it out loud for the first couple of weeks. The thought of Azriel dying had messed with his head. “I said no, so it’s a no. Plus, you have a new responsibility," Rhys states firmly, and Azriel knows that there is no use in nagging him any further. “Counting days till she’s out of my sight," he mutters beneath his breath, standing up to leave. He just forgot to mean the words he spoke.

Velaris was different from what you had imagined it to be. In a good way, but it still wasn’t home. The ever-green trees almost bugged you. It was all too alive. Too bright. You missed the deep oranges. The crunching of the leaves beneath your feet. Rhys tried to be a caring host by giving you an autumn-themed room, but that only left a bitter taste in your mouth. So even if you had been advised by their healer to keep all weight off your swollen ankle for a while, you still found yourself, pulling away the decorations and shoving away the autumn theme blankets, the little trinkets.

You tried to keep out of everyone’s hair. Choosing to take your food into your room. But the four walls were starting to drive you mad. You had tasted freedom, and you didn’t want to be back there. Locked up. Hidden. Forgotten. So when your eyes landed on the two males sparing in the front yard, you, of course, first observed them from your window. Watching through the curtains and then pushing back.

“You should be resting your leg," Azriel hadn’t even turned to face you when his voice found you. A slight smirk tugging at your lips. He had been avoiding you. Or maybe you were too full of yourself. Maybe he was just busy. There was no requirement for him to be at your side twenty-four-seven.

“You’re a shit bodyguard if you didn’t know that I've been doing just that for the past three days," you muse, stepping closer to the racks of weapons that line their training ground. Fingers l brushing over a set of onyx black daggers. “Madja said at least a couple of weeks," Azriel points out, reaching to rewrap his knuckles. “And I said that I'm bored, and now we are here," you purr, lifting one of the daggers, feeling out the weight as you twist your wrist. You could feel Azriel’s eyes. Watching you. Following your every move.

“Or you just wanted a closer look at this“, the male next to him, who you had come to learn was Cassian, smirks, gesturing to his bare chest. Abs glistening with sweat. Yeah, the view wasn’t bad. Autumn males, at least the ones you know, didn’t compare. “And I thought this one was full of himself." You hooked your thumb at Azriel, rolling your eyes.

He shakes his head, “Would it hurt you to say my name?”, "Yes, Mr. Tree, trunk up my ass." You give him the most obnoxious smile you could master. Earning a deep growl from the spymaster in return. Until your eyes landed on the wooden bow, neatly placed on the ground by the buckets of water. “I want to shoot arrows," you mutter, pointing to the weapon, making Azriel’s gaze follow suit.

He let out a small snort, “Have you ever held a bow in your delicate hands?”. That prick. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Oh, news flash, he is also a sexist,” you hiss. Rounding his side to reach for the arrows. “I just don’t want you falling and tripping once again, princess," he teases in an almost mocking tone. You step closer to him. You doubt that he finds you intimidating, considering that you need to look up to even meet his gaze. But your face stays ice cold as you point to the bow, “Give it to me." He doesn’t move at first. As if on purpose. Giving you extra time to look at him. His face. There is a light scar over his right eyebrow. It’s not all that visible. Unless you take your time to… but, your little daydream is cut short by a bow being shoved at your chest. You nearly lose your footing. And just like that, you are snapped out of your daze.

“Don’t start crying when you miss," Azriel says, too full of himself as always. Leaning on the side beam like a smug, fucking cat. Too bad you grew up among five arrogant males. Six if you include that sadist of a father. That’s enough for the amber to catch fire deep within your chest. You line the arrow up. Taking a deep breath. Eyes falling to the target at the edge of the field ahead. And then it’s muscle memory as you let it loose. The first one hit the bull's eye. A satisfied smile speeds on your face as you reach for the second and third. You’re petty like that. Not in the mood to give Azriel a chance to call it fool’s luck.

A loud chuckle fills your ears, and then someone is nudging your shoulder. “She handed you your ass on a silver plate, brother." Cassian’s laughter booms, and you can’t help but match his grin. “Choke on the dust," you muse, flipping him off as you twist away from him. But Azriel is quick as always, grasping your elbow as he spin you back. “Know your place," he says through gritted teeth. Nostrils flaring.

“Maybe you should show me my place," you mutter, crossing an x on his chest. You yank your hand from his grip, glancing at Cassian, “Put the dog on the leash." Azriel curses, making Cassian snort, before the general starts barking, moving to the side to tackle his brother. You shake your head, continuing to walk away. Only catching a faint warning from Azriel, “Don’t fucking encourage it.”

Azriel chose to leave you alone for the rest of the day. Yet he could deny it all he wanted, but the shots were clean. Not to mention that he was almost relieved that you had left your room. A burden or not, he didn’t want you just rotting between the four walls. So he’s not all that surprised when your figure steps out onto the balcony. A lantern in your hand. One that you carefully place on the ledge before placing your hand on the stones. Stepping on your tiptoes, leaning to look over the edge.

"Snooping", the sudden sound of his voice makes you jump, your elbow hitting the lantern and pushing it over the edge. “You’re insane. Absolute sociopath," you gasp, hand on your chest as you try to wipe the threat from your face.

“You’re pathetic if that made you scared," Azriel shrugs, stepping out for the shadows. It wasn’t pathetic. He knew that. If he didn’t want to be seen, no one would see him. So blaming this on you was lame, but he could excuse it. For now. “You’re a creep," you hiss, leaning over the edge to look for the broken glass, now scattered on the ground. “Who sits in the dark like that?”, you ask, shaking your head and pulling your ginger hair over to one side. Fidgeting with the ends. That’s a new habit, Azriel thinks to himself, one he hadn’t yet observed.

You just shake your head once you don’t receive an answer from him. Eyes darting up the sky. It’s almost pitch black. The last traces of orange and deep purple are coloring the very edges of the horizon. “The sky is beautiful here as well," you breathe out. Not sure why. It felt stupid to get sentimental with that crazy man behind you. “It is," Azriel admits, forcing his eyes from your frame to lift to the sky. But the stars only manage to hold his attention for so long. Before they glance right back down at you, Azriel can’t tell from your face, but he feels the wave of sadness crashing into his chest.

And not even a heartbeat later you speak up again. “I usually take walks with the dogs in the evening, so... old habits die hard. I feel the itch." It’s an almost bitter chuckle that slips past your lips as you speak. Azriel walks close to the railing. “I feel the same if I don’t get to work late at night," he’s not sure why he’s even saying that. Admitting something that you don’t need to know. Or probably care to know. Your nose screeches up. “That’s a weird thing to like," you mutter. Azriel rolls his eyes, “Stomping through the woods isn’t any better.”

The breeze picks up. Chasing the last bits of warmth away. Making you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, but you don’t step back. Don’t move to head inside. “So, you’re a working late and sleep-in type of guy," you mutter. Azriel realizes it then. You’re here because you don’t want to be alone. Force-pushing the conversation to keep someone else in your company. Flashes of the basement flicker through his mind.

“No, I wake up early," he answers, a heartbeat too late, and yet you’re still nodding along. “So, no sleep type of guy," you mutter beneath your breath. The darkness is now fully draping over you two. Hiding you both from the world. “And you’re a talk just to listen to yourself speak type of girl," Azriel points out, making you huff. “And here, I thought we were having a moment." He watches as you turn around, shaking your head. “Jumping to conclusions kind of girl too," he says firmly, and this time it’s enough to drag a little chuckle from your lips as your head falls back ever so slightly.

But the distant pain doesn’t leave your eyes when you glance back at him. “Did Eris say anything by any chance?”, you mutter. A part of Azriel considers lying. Twisting the truth. A white lie. But he can’t bring himself to. Too many people were already keeping you in the dark, so he mutters a quiet, "No." Watching as you nod way too eagerly at his answer, “Of course, delighted to get rid of the troublemaker," there was that pained smile at the end as you finally chose to spread the distance between you two. “Lucien is coming tomorrow, though," Azriel points out, your tense shoulders easing ever so slightly. You don’t say anything as you reach for the glass door.

“Are you going to sleep?”, Azriel asks, almost cringing himself out. What was this sound of desperation? He didn’t fucking care what you did. “Not yet. I will walk in the garden for a bit." You gesture to the fields wrapping around the house. Azriel nods firmly, “Keep to the upper parts; don’t go past the rose garden if you get by the white... ”, “Okay, okay, mother... Tie me to your chair and watch me wilt away while you’re at it," you huff, your lips thinning into a tight line. “I’ll finish some work and come to do a room sweep," the spymaster says in an almost demanding manner. You simply raise your hand to your forehead, saluting him with a quiet “Yes, sir," before disappearing into the house.

It took Azriel way longer to get through his usual routine. He liked his office tidy for his morning working session. So at night, even if he was tired to his bones, he made the effort to sort through every pile of documents. Arrange them neatly. When he finally made it up to the top floor, where your room was located, it was well past midnight. Azriel knew that he could just drop it. He didn’t have to show up and check the room. Yet he still stood there right by your door.

"Princess," he knocked gently, not really in the mood to startle you once again tonight. You might be small and fierce, but everyone has a limit. When no response follows, he tries again: "Yn, it’s Azriel, can I come in?”, but still nothing. He could just walk in, but you weren’t a prisoner per se. “This is your last warning," he says, waiting for a heartbeat before pushing onto the handle.

It was dead quiet in the room. He would have concluded that you might not have returned yet if not for the mess that your bed was. He frowns slightly. Following the line of blankets that lead to the fireplace. And here you are. Curled by the fire, all the blankets dragged from the bed. Piles of books scattered all around you. He didn’t know that you had gone to the library. Or maybe this was Nesta’s doing. In that case, he didn’t wish to find out what was written in them. Azriel scannes the room. His eyes fell on the pens and pencils on the table. A sketchbook. A strange feeling kindled in Azriel’s chest. He has a pad just like that. Kept it in his leathers. So if he feels the urge or if something captures his attention begging to be sketched, he could easily do so.

Azriel steps closer, trying not to leave evidence of looking through your stuff. It makes him uneasy just how close you are to the fireplace, but then. Flame calls to flame. He knows that he should turn away. Just leave you be. There’s no danger here. He knows it. But he finds himself stepping forward, kneeling by your body. He hasn’t seen you so peacefully innocent before. He only knew the frowning, tantrum-throwing princess.

Tilting his head to the side, he tries to drink your features in. You were a Vanserra. The resemblance to Eris and Lucien was there. But a much softer version. With freckles all over your face. Long eyelashes. Your hair was more ginger than fire-red. But then his gaze halted. Your left shoulder was bare. The very top of your breast... a scar. It was a scare that made him halt. On your collarbone. And then two lines going beneath your shirt. Azriel’s scowl only deepened at the sight of one more white line at the side of your throat. “What did they do to you?", he mutters quietly. But it’s enough to make your eyes snap open as you jolt up. And once again, there’s a dagger aimed at Azriel’s throat, this time from the side. The very tip pressing into his flesh.

“What the fuck?", you huff, lowering your hand. “That’s a much better aim. You’re learning fast, princess." Azriel tries to keep his face cool as he steps back. Standing tall. “Why are you here standing over me like that?”, you scowl, pulling the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

“I just came to check the room," Azriel says, moving his gaze to the window. Anything was better now than looking into your burning eyes. “And decided that you can just let yourself in," you say, pushing to stand up. “You were on the floor by the fire; who knows, maybe you were lying there dead?", Azriel bits back, gesturing at the mess you had created. It was embarrassing that he had seen it. No one was supposed to see it. A bitter laugh slips past your lips, “You wish that would be...", and in a blink of an eye, he is there. Inches away from you. Hand reaching for your hair. No doubt he had thought about just yanking it back but decided against it at the last minute.

“Don’t finish that," he says, opting for a warning finger once more. As if he’s scolding a child. “Or what?", you flash your teeth at him. Pretending to bite the very tip of his finger. “You love picking fights, huh?", he straightens, smothering his hair back. The slight curls falling over his forehead. “You love changing the subject, huh?”, you mock back in the same tone. “You might just be one of the most frustrating things that came out of autumn," and you can see that he probably didn’t even mean to say it out loud. But he did. And now you two were standing in the aftermath of it. Your hands curling into fists. “Thing...", you smile at him, “How sweet of you; ladies probably drop their pants for that," and here it was that cold, cold look on your face. "Out," you hiss, now pointing Azriel to the door. Dismissing him.

The next morning is rather awkward. Azriel finds you in the sunroom of the house. Your legs tugged beneath you. You don’t lift your head, and he says nothing. Taking his usual spot by the window to drink his coffee. It unsettles him. The silence. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s some creepy stalker. Maybe you both should settle the ground rules. Talk about the situation. But once he finally finds the courage to open his mouth, the door opens. A gasp slips past your lips as you jump up, rushing to the male standing in the doorway.

"Luci," you breathe, wrapping your arms around your brother’s neck. The warmth he carried seeping into your body. “My little flicker," he mutters against your hair, leaving a couple of kisses on the side of your head. "Azriel," Lucien nods in acknowledgment. Azriel follows his movement. “I’ve got it from here”, Luci smiles at the spymaster, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“What’s going on?”, you mutter against his chest, refusing to let go. “What did Eris say?”, your brother asks, and it’s enough to make you pull back. “I don’t give a fuck about what he said," you grunt. “I want to know what you know," you demand. You have a full right to. Lucien holds your gaze for a moment before letting out a tired sigh, “We will be heading back for a bit." You shake your head, turning away from him.

“I will tell you as soon as I can, I promise," he says as he steps forward, holding you by your shoulder as he lowers his forehead to lean against you.“Why are we going back?” It’s a whisper, but blood runs thicker than water. And you need to stick together, as you always did. Even if you still don’t understand anything, “There is a public outing. He needs us by his side." That makes you chuckle, “I also needed him by my side in case anyone was wondering.”.

"Yn," Lucien sighs, but you shake your head. “You don’t get to make me feel bad for him." It’s selfish, you know that. But they had sworn to protect you, and this feels like the opposite of it. “He’s figuring this out too; be kind," Lucien mumbles, pulling your hands into his and squeezing them. “Come on, you’ll get to watch the joy on Azriel’s face when I tell him that he’ll have to spend a couple of nights in autumn," he nudges you, making you smile ever so slightly, “Now that I can get behind”.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @emryb

#azriel acotar imagine #azriel x oc #eris x azriel #azriel x you #azriel imagien #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x oc #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you

393 notes · View notes

desideriumwriter · 3 months

Note

hi how are you!! i was wondering if you could write a fred x ravenclaw!reader (fem) where they’ve been beat friends since the beginning and they’re already in a relationship but it’s just fred and the reader are reminiscing about life and stuff and it’s just pure fluff? if not that’s ok :))

I’m doing alright! I’ve got a few trips planned for the next few weeks so I’m trying to finish as much stuff as I can. Anyways, ty for the request! This was a cute one to write, who doesn’t love some causal fluff with fred???

I Can See Me in Your Eyes

wc: 1,728 | navi | f.w. masterlist

The summer visits to the Burrow were always comforting. It was a warm and windy evening. Fred had his head in your lap as your back was laid against the broom shed in the back garden. You were raking your hands through his hair.

“Your hairs’ gotten so long.” You thought out loud, brushing away the strands that had been blown in front of his face.

“My mum wants me to cut it soon. She’s never been a fan of long hair.” Fred said as he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, copying your actions.

“Are you going to?” You asked, mindlessly playing with his hair.

“I suppose I should, it’ll give mum some temporary relief.”

“Temporary?”

“Well, I don’t know how she’ll feel about me and George opening up our own joke shop.” He began to fiddle his thumbs. “Especially with the money Harry won and gave to us.”

Fred and George had been saving up for over a year now. They planned on opening their own store, selling their homemade fireworks and trick candies. They had already made a good amount selling their products over the summer.

But when Harry gave them the money he won from the tournament, it put them ten times closer to their goal. You remember their look on faces once they entered your booth on the express.

The twins both dropped down into the seat across from you, eyebrows slightly knit together and mouths ajar. George was holding a bag in his hands, Fred was staring it down, you heard whatever was inside it clink when he sat down.

“What’s in there?” You sat up straight, a bit confused and concerned due to their faces.

“A thousand galleons.” Fred said, he sounded like he didn’t even believe it.

George still had an iron grip on the money bag, clutching down on it as if it would run away if he let go.

“She’s never been a hundred percent supportive of what me and him do.” He frowned, you removed one of your hands from his hair and held Fred’s hand.

“I think she’ll love it when she sees how successful you two will be.” You reassured him, Molly was always so keen on wanting them to get jobs in the Ministry.

“Bigger than Zonkos.” He let out a breathy laugh, now playing with your fingers.

“Better than Zonkos.” You added.

“Always outsmarting me. It’s summer, you know? I thought you only did that during classes.”

“I don’t outsmart you.” You laughed in disbelief, giving him a playful shove.

“You always know what to do though. You’re always correcting my mistakes, like in Divination in our third year.”

Fred did have a tendency to get things wrong, usually because he was too busy looking at you instead of paying attention to instructions.

“I don’t understand. How’d you get that for yours?” Fred’s eyes darted between your paper to his, comparing your answers.

“Your chart is upside down.” You gave him a pitiful smile as you slid his paper the correct way. The blush creeping in on his face was painfully obvious.

You let him cheat off you for the rest of the year.

He could never remember the dates that went along with the zodiac signs in your fourth-year astrology class you had together.

“No, look,” You said as you pointed to your textbook, “Aries is March 21st to April 19th, that makes you an Aries.”

“Oh, I think I've got it now.” He nodded, “So that makes you a…” It took him a few tries to get your sign right without looking at his textbook.

“Well, it was a tough class, and it was third year. I made mistakes too.” Fred hummed in response, moving his hand up to play with the hem of your shirt.

“This is a pretty color on you. It’s nice to see what you look like in a color other than blue.” He rubbed two fingers between the thin fabric.

“You say everything is pretty on me.” You murmured.

“Cause it is!”

“You’re just saying that because I’m your girlfriend.”

“Exactly,” He reached his hand up, tapping your nose, “what’s so bad about that?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged, smiling at him and admiring how the sun was casting a golden glow on his freckled skin, you stared at his lips.

He noticed.

“Want a kiss?” He gave a knowing smile, causing you to grin, a sudden shyness creeping up on you.

It was silly how he could still make you feel as giddy and flustered as you were when he took you as his date to the Yule Ball.

“Wow, you look…stunning. I’m speechless.”

“Thank you. You do too.” You said shyly, looking down.

“I’m serious, you look bloody gorgeous.” He ran a hand down your arm, you were grinning so hard your face was already starting to hurt.

The compliments didn’t end there, he gave you as many as he could throughout the night.

“You’re staring awfully hard.” You teasingly pointed out, Fred already knew he was, he just didn’t care. You were breathtaking.

“I’m not staring, I'm admiring, sweetheart.” This earned a flustered giggle out of you, not knowing how to react to the pet name.

Fred lifted his head up slightly, making it easier for his lips to meet yours, embracing in an awkwardly positioned but sweet kiss.

You pulled back and tilted your head to get a better look at his face. His eyes were closed and squinty due to the glare of the sun. But he was smiling, opening his eyes as much as he could to look at you.

“The sun in your hair makes you look like an angel.” He admired, you just scoffed and shook your head.

“I’m serious! It makes it look like you’ve got this halo around you.”

Fred had always been creative with his compliments, even if he had to explain them.

“Your smile is like…fireworks.” Fred said, words slightly slurred, he had snuck maybe one too many glasses of his mum's elderflower wine.

“What?” You giggled out, removing your glass from your lips.

“Your smile, it's bright and big and warm, like how fireworks are…does that make sense?”

“Yeah…wait no, wait no I get it, no..I think it does?”

“You’re a sap.” You happily sighed, leaning back against the shed.

“You’re too serious.” He sat up from his spot, now both face to face and still gleaming at you.

“I’ll leave all the bad joke making and pranks to you.” You teased as you played with the collar of his button up.

“My jokes aren’t bad!” He gaped, looking at you in mock hurt.

“Maybe they aren’t all bad, maybe poorly timed.” You hummed, cupping his face with one hand, loving how pretty he looked with the setting sun shining through his hair.

Still, you weren’t wrong about what you said. Freds jokes were always quite funny, just some were said at the wrong time.

“That was my first kiss.” You blurted out after you pulled away from each other, lips still parted.

“I could tell.” Fred teased, he meant it jokingly, but began to panic once he saw your face falter a bit with sadness.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He unraveled, “I’m sorry! That was an awful joke!” bringing his hands up to cup your face apologetically.

“So judgy.” He shook his head slightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Too judgy?”

“Barely, I’ve been scorned all my life, I think I can handle the heat.” He scoffed; he was right. He was a troublemaker ever since he could crawl. George and him being partners in crime since birth, their mum constantly tried to set them straight.

After departing the train and from the twins, you watched as they both gave each other looks, making small comments to each other.

“The school works quickly with their letters.” George retorted just before they began to walk up to their mum. Who was standing impatiently, hands on her hips and a furious scowl on her face.

“Dungbombs set off in the common room? Fireworks on the train?” She shouted as she shifted her eyes between the two boys. “Are you two dense? Were the amount of howlers sent not shameful enough?”

You’d lost count over how many howlers she sent within the single school year. By the time the fifth one arrived during lunch one day, they didn’t bother to snatch it and leave the hall. They just sat and ate as the letter reprimanded them.

“You know,” Fred said through bites of turkey, “even in writing she can’t tell which one of us is which.” He shook his head, amused. It earned a few good laughs and chuckles from the students around him, from then on, Molly's howlers sent to them just became free entertainment, to them and everyone around them.

“But I may need a present for that little comment you made about my badly timed jokes.” He drew out his lips into a dramatic pout, tapping a finger onto them.

If this was anyone else, you would’ve cringed. However, this was your boyfriend, and you were allowed to act cheesy with him. Instead, you just let out a breathy laugh and rolled your eyes before pulling him into a kiss.

This one was a bit more passionate, a bit messier, a bit more breathtaking.

As soon as you pulled back for some air, a small pebble came flying out of nowhere, hitting Fred in the side of the head. He groaned out and held a hand over where it hit, grimacing in pain. Before you could ask if he was okay, there was shouting coming from the same direction from the pebble that hit him.

You both turned towards the noise, it led back to George, who was standing near the entrance to the garden.

“Oi! Let the poor girl breathe and come help with dinner!” He shouted at Fred.

You accidentally let a laugh slip; Fred looked at you. You slapped a hand over your mouth, still giggling.

“I'm gonna kill him.“ Fred huffed and tried to keep back his smile.

“You're not gonna kill him.“ You let out a breathy chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah? Watch me.” He grinned and gave you a peck on the cheek before he shot up, beginning to sprint at George.

thank you for reading! tell me what you thought! <3

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #requests

334 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

533 notes · View notes

everythingne · 8 months

Text

marry me — ls2

you and logan have danced around dating since you had met all those years ago. An impulsive kiss may lead to a big jump in your relationship.

logan sargeant x reader

warnings/notes: steamy kissing guys watch out, so short i wrote this in one sitting, barely beta read, logan being head over heels, we love childhood friends to lovers!!

The photographs spread across the dining room table. You had sorted through majority of the things your mother had sent your way, but the photo albums of old pictures from the summer you’d spent with the Sargeants needed two sets of hands and two brains to sort through.

And so you called over Logan.

He was back in Florida for only a few short weeks during his winter break, visiting his parents and such. You had made the call expecting him to be busy, but you were pleasantly surprised when Logan had cheerfully told you he could be over in an hour after he helped his mom with something. You cleaned up the apartment a bit, changed into something you could wear around company (not that Logan would care), and brought out a bottle of wine for the occasion of reconnecting again after a few years away.

Lucky guess, Logan’s favorite wine was still the expensive one you used to sneak from his grandparents liquor cabinet when he’d visit in the summers.

He’s sitting next to you now, laughing at some photos you’d recently gotten developed. They’re from prom, your family having flown him out to surprise you so you both could go together—as ‘friends.’ Even if the crush you both had on each other was terribly obvious.

“God that was such a fun night,” You grin, showing him a photo you have of Dalton picking you both up and the tiny bottle shots of Fireball you both had in your hand in the photo. Logan laughs at Dalton’s horrified expression and leans on you for support.

“I gotta get you to these clubs after the races, I swear the guys will fucking love you. Oh, what are you doing around Monaco’s GP?” He asks, bright eyes and a wide smile as you slip the photo into the keep pile and keep thumbing through.

“I’ll have finals that week.” You him to him, “so depending on when my classes finish I could probably come down.”

“Please,” Logan laughs, then pauses at a photo that makes his eyebrows tense and he groans, “remember Kadin?”

“Oh my fucking god.” You whisper as Logan flips to show you a photo of his graduation party in Miami, where your short lived pre-college summer fling boyfriend is hanging off you in the pool, “he was such a dick.”

“Why did you even date him? He was a total asshole to you, like, all the time.” Logan tosses the photo in the discard pile and leans over to refill his wine glass as he asks. His eyes meet yours and you shrug, trying to control the blush that desperately tries to show on your face.

“I was bored, and the guy I did like at the time was moving away, so.” You shrug, trying not to look at Logan. You know if you do, you’ll spill your still massively huge crush on him. Wine made your lips looser and you couldn’t afford that right now.

“So, you dated a guy that was so bad I, of all people at that party, was the one who fought him?” Logan smirks and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. He’d broken Kadin’s nose after he caught him talking shit about you, to you. It had been a whole joke between your families for years.

“Hey, you chose to hit him.” You raise your hands in mock surrender and he laughs, picking up his little stack of photos to sort through.

“And I’ve never regretted it.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth and you snort softly at his confidence once more, before turning back to the photos in your hand. Comfortable silence lapses for a moment before Logan sets his down and looks over at you.

“I miss living down the street from you.” He looks over, cheeks red from his words as he watches you in the soft sunset lighting of the kitchen you’d grown up in. You both had done homework in these seats, eaten dinner here, played games, bickered, and had deep talks here. This was the place he’d realized he really loved your way back in fourth grade, and the place he let you go when he moved away for motorsports. You had always been his home, and he was surprised it had taken him this long to figure that out about you.

“I miss it too.” You sigh, “it’s nice to be able to sit and just… be us again.”

But when you turn to look at Logan, it’s like every rational thought leaves your head. Almost like just him being beside you is more intoxicating than the wine you’ve been slowly sipping at. He’s everything you’d ever wanted, he’s everything you needed, and yet he was untouchable. Until now. You watch his eyes as they flicker around you, unable to find a spot to settle, as if every spot of your skin is just as perfect and just as important as the rest. His hand finds your knee and squeezes it, and you find yourself tilting to him, seeking him out. It’s unconscious for you, as it is for him, and right before the big collide he hesitates.

“Is this…” he whispers, his hand sliding up your leg to rest mid thigh as his other comes to your jaw to tilt your head to him. You swallow, hard, and nod to him. To your best friend of almost twenty years, and watch his eyes flicker down to your lips before he leans in. You flutter your eyes shut when your lips softly brush each others, a test, allowing you to pull back if you want. When you don’t Logan pushes in and you meet him and a slight clack of your teeth.

The kisses start as little innocent pecks, but you aren’t complaining when he starts to get a bit more intense with it. You shift to turn yourself, one hand coming to his neck as your thumb presses to his pulse point earning a soft whine between two harsh kisses as a reward, but he nips your bottom lip as payback.

Logan’s presence on you and around you is intoxicating as he pulls you off your chair with one arm, you’d briefly forgotten just how damn strong he was as he effortlessly sets you on the table. His free hand scatters the photos you’d carefully stacked out of the way as he keeps your lips connected in harsh, deep kisses you find take every bit of oxygen out of you as you careen forward each time for more. It’s a feverish moment, lips connecting, sighing, hands grabbing whatever they can to ground you.

“Logan—“ you gasp, and he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes as your hot breaths mingle between you. The feeling of his panting breaths rolling across your neck making goosebumps prickle along your skin.

“Is this okay?” He asks again and when you nod he smiles, “alright, so stop talking and just sit pretty there, yeah?”

“I will but wait,” you gasp for air and he pulls back a bit more, allowing you to catch your breath. It’s here when clarity hits both of you, post make out haze slipping from your minds as his hands settle by your hips on the table.

“I’ve wanted to do that since high school, y’know.” You whisper, “the whole… kissing thing.”

“Me too, yeah.” He agrees, and you both just kinda sit in silence for a moment afterwards, “it’s been a long time coming hasn’t it been? I’ve liked you for… god over a decade now? Almost two?”

“Really?” You giggle as Logan blushes and nods, his hands taking yours as he kisses your knuckles. The heat of the moment is gone, sure, but now there’s a sort of raw genuinity about everything. It’s like seeing the world with glasses for the first time, every fuzzy thing is suddenly clears.

“Remember that promise I made you make in fourth grade?” He says and you almost burst into a loud laugh when the memory hits you, two dumb kids sitting on a playground and pinkie promising under the slide.

“If we weren’t dating by thirty five, we’d marry each other.” You link your pinkie to his and he grins, tightening his hold on your pinkie with his own. The sun comes in beside you, wrapping you both in its warm embrace as the tenderness of the situation makes your skin warm.

“I know we still have time but—fuck it, I’ve been thinking about this since you called me and asked me to come over. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t wanna wait.” He admits, almost whiny at the end before he leans forward and closes his eyes. His forehead rests to yours as he murmurs, “what would you say if I asked you right now? No ring, no witnesses, just us?”

“To marry you?” You feel dizzy, feeling him wrap his other pinkie around your other free one. Locked in.

“To get married, now.” He sits back to look you in the eyes again, “I know it’s kinda weird but I have enough to support us both and I loved you for so long and I—I really want—

“—Logan I would marry you with nothing to show for it.” You let go of his hands to cup his jaw, “Paper rings, no witnesses, just us in this kitchen. I’d marry you here. I’d marry you anywhere. I’ve loved you probably just as long, and maybe we’re rushing it but who fucking cares?”

A giggle escapes your lips and Logan’s smile doubles in size as he takes your hands from his face, holding your right while he kisses your left ring finger.

“Marry me.” He whispers, “marry me right now. I don’t care where we do it, or anything about it, but I want you to marry me. I want to call you my wife and take you to races and let you meet everyone—Oscar will adore you just as much as I do—“

You cut off his ramble with a kiss, this time being the one to pull him in. When you break, you grin and wipe saliva off your lip with your thumb, “Is that a good enough yes? Because I also want all of those things.”

“That’s a better yes than any words you could’ve said.” Logan grins and wraps his arms around you and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. And maybe you’re both tipsy, and this is something you’ll have to actually discuss tomorrow, but for now it’s just you, Logan, and a promise. No rings, no witnesses, no evidence of anything other than puffy lips and the looks in your eyes.

urusername made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon, liamlawson, and 457k others...

urusername: lo upgraded me to a real ring this time :)

tagged: logansargeant

comments have been disabled for this post!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant x reader #nicole wrote this

397 notes · View notes

tortillamastersblog · 2 months

Text

♕ No Matter What - Part 16 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries and slight angst

Summary: Lena is still a no-show. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

“Good, you’re doing great. Just one more step,” Dr. Mike encourages, holding my left hand as I walk on unstable legs.

My right hand is wrapped so tightly around the bar mounted to the wall that my knuckles have turned white.

I take the last step before lowering myself into the waiting wheelchair. My hands are shaking and I’m breathing heavily as Doctor Mike crouches down by my side with a beaming smile.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he says. “If you keep working hard and doing your exercises you’ll be almost as good as new in no time.”

I try my best to smile, but even without the pitiful look on Doctor Mike’s face that follows it I know it wasn’t very convincing.

Ever since we dialed back my pain meds my entire left leg has been tingling and is weak. Sometimes it feels like an electric shock runs through it, all the way from my hip and down to my toes, and Doctor Mike says that even though the weakness will get better, the nerve pain will never truly go away.

Yes, it will also get better, but I won’t ever have physiological sensibility and mobility again.

“Why don’t we get you back to your room, you look tired,” he states rather than asks when I don’t comment on anything that he’s said.

I mumble please and hang my head low when he begins pushing me out of the pt room and back to my own room.

It’s been almost three weeks since what happened and I’ve honestly never felt this empty.

Don’t get me wrong, I was absolutely crushed and numb after Noah was killed, but now there’s just so many things weighing me down that I don’t know if I’ll ever come out on the other side of things again.

To start things off, I’m constantly having nightmares about what happened with Lex. They’re mostly about what actually happened but sometimes they’re also about Lena, Sam, or Ruby getting shot.

Then there’s the whole situation with my dad. He hasn’t visited me since that one time where he tried to apologize, and I’ve been racking my brain ever since if I have it in my heart to forgive him.

There’s also the nerve damage on my lower spine which turned out to be worse than expected. I’m not paralyzed — something I apparently came very close to— but my left leg is basically useless at the moment and the constant physical therapy is painful and exhausting.

And to top it all off, Lena hasn’t visited me even once since I got here. I also can’t get ahold of her on my phone because Lex destroyed it and I have yet to get a new one.

No one’s heard from her. The news outlets are dying for a comment from her about Lex’s and all her friends — Sam obviously included— can’t reach her either.

She’s not at home, apparently, which worries me, but it’s not like I can just walk out of this hospital and go look for her myself.

The only thing that gives me a little peace of mind is the fact that she texted Sam the day I was shot that she had to deal with some stuff and that she wouldn’t be available for some time.

When I first heard about it I was very worried because I know she blames herself for what happened, but then as time went on, I started to hate her for abandoning me.

Now, though, I’m just sad and dejected.

Do I really mean that little to her? I mean, even if she does blame herself, I thought her worry would outweigh her guilt eventually and she’d visit me, but apparently not. . .

Doctor Mike drops me off in my room, making sure I’m comfortable in the bed before leaving with an encouraging smile.

I sigh and close my eyes, only to open them again a couple minutes later when Sam and Ruby stop by.

They’ve been visiting me every day and even though I’m absolutely miserable and can’t wait to get out of here, they’ve been a reliable support system and always managed to cheer me up, even if it’s just a tiny bit.

Sam kisses my cheek in greeting and Ruby hugs me before pulling a deck of UNO cards out of her mom’s purse.

“Can we play?” she asks with a hopeful grin and I pat the space on the bed next to me with a nod.

We’ve been playing this game for a week now and at first ai thought I’d get tired of it, but that has yet to happen. I love playing with the two of them, especially when Ruby giggles after putting down a draw four card.

“Of course, c’mere.”

Sam takes a seat on the chair next to the bed while Ruby settles in next to me. She shuffles the cards and hands them out as Sam tells me about her day at the office.

“. . . and then Marcus has the nerve to burst right into my office,” Sam concludes once Ruby has passed out enough cards. “Can you believe that?!”

I chuckle and shake my head, sorting my cards and fanning them out in my left hand. “I honestly don’t know why you haven’t fired him yet.”

Sam huffs and puts down the first card, a red four. “Yeah, me neither.”

We play a couple of rounds, chatting about God knows what until Ruby decides she’s had enough and that she wants a hot chocolate from the hospital’s cafeteria.

Sam hands her some cash and we both watch her leave before Sam turns back to me with a serious expression.

“Okay, out with it,” she says, moving her chair closer to the bed. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately and I know it’s not just because of Lena.”

Immediately my eyes start stinging with tears and I gulp, trying to force them away. When Sam grabs my hand and squeezes it however, there’s no stopping them anymore and within seconds my cheeks are wet and my chin is wobbling.

“I just— I can’t anymore, Sam,” I admit with a hiccup. “I’m exhausted and-and everything around me reminds me of everything bad that’s ever happened to me.”

I use my free hand to wipe away my tears, but it’s of no use because they just keep coming and there’s nothing I can do about it as everything I’ve been holding back for almost three weeks now bubbles out of me.

“I can’t stand walking past Noah’s favorite coffee shop every morning. I hate seeing my dad’s favorite local beer in bars and I hate all the reporters outside the hospital just waiting for me to talk about Lex,” I whisper, not daring to look at Sam. “It’s too much. . .”

It’s silent for a moment until Sam’s soft touch on my cheek makes my breath hitch. She uses her free hand to wipe away some more of my tears and when I look up to meet her eyes all I can see is sympathy and understanding.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says quietly. “I understand what you mean and I think it’s high time you got away from all of this for a while.”

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze her hand. “You’re saying I should leave?”

She nods. “Yes. You could travel and explore the world, or you could just move somewhere else for a couple of years, you know?”

I don’t want to travel. I’ve seen enough of the world for now, having been stationed in a couple of countries while I was in the Army.

The thought of moving, however, makes me pause and think for a second.

It would be a great opportunity to start over, start on a blank slate, and if I ever get homesick I can always just move back to National City.

“But what about you and Ruby?“ I ask. I’ve always been there for them and they’ve always been there for me, too. I can’t just leave them behind and start a new life somewhere.

“We’ll be fine,” Sam assures me with a watery smile. “We’ll always stay in touch, but it’s time for you to start living again, Y/N, rather than just existing.”

“Sammy. . .” I trail off, not exactly knowing what to say. I’m overwhelmed by her understanding and her support, but I’m also sad at the prospect of being away from her and Ruby.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’ll be okay, and Ruby and I will be okay, too.”

I squeeze her hand again and close my eyes for a second, letting what happened just now sink in.

“I love you, Sammy,” I whisper when I open my eyes again.

Sam sniffles and blinks away some of her own tears. “I love you, too.”

I chuckle and press a kiss to her knuckles right as Ruby returns from the cafeteria. She doesn’t notice our tear stained faces and wordlessly joins me on the bed again, sipping hot chocolate from her paper cup.

She starts babbling about her day at school which makes me smile softly. Every so often Sam’s gaze meets mine and the unrelenting understanding in her eyes puts my mind at ease.

I’m going to be okay, I think, but the question of Lena’s whereabouts and what she’s up to still gnaws at the back of my mind.

It’s been a week since I decided to move and an old friend of Sam’s told her about an apartment he’s just finished remodeling in Metropolis that I can move into at any time.

It’s a big step, moving to the other end of the country, but it will give me the space I so desperately need.

I was released from the hospital two days ago and have since been packing most of my stuff and getting my affairs in order.

I have to take it easy because I’m still recovering, which is why I’m only packing light things like clothes. The rest will be taken care of by a moving company that I’ve hired to start tomorrow.

My left leg is still weak and tingles, but the shooting pains have stopped and all my other injuries have healed nicely.

I have to use a crutch for the time being because I’m still a little unstable on my feet, but Doctor Mike told me that I won’t be needing it soon enough if I continue to do the exercises the physical therapist showed me.

So far the only people who know that I’m moving are Sam and Harper. The latter found out because she was there when Sam called me about the apartment, but she swore not to tell my parents about it.

We’re almost back to where we were before Noah’s death since she, not unlike Sam and Ruby, also visited me in the hospital daily, but it will still take some time for our friendship to be fully restored.

Now, as for my parents, I’ve decided not to tell them about moving until I’m already settled in Metropolis. If I told them now they’d try to stop me from going because they’re both trying to make things right with me, but I can’t start healing if I don’t get some space.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be able to forgive either of them for what they did to me, especially not my dad, but I can see myself being civil with them in time.

A knock on the door makes me pause and drop the stack of clothes I was just about to put into a box onto the bed.

It’s almost dinner time and Sam was planning on coming over with some pizza, so I think nothing of it when I open the door with a lazy smile, but then I freeze when my eyes land on the one person I’ve been yearning to see for almost a month now.

“Lena,” I whisper, taking in her red nose and the snowflakes in her dark hair.

“Hi.” Her voice is just as quiet as mine, if not even quieter, and when her green eyes meet mine in silent question, I step aside and let her into the apartment.

________________________________________________

I’m sorry it’s a bit short, but the next part (probably the final part) will definitely be longer.

*Not proofread yet

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha @likeornella @rosea-reginae @aca-biitch @jujuu23

#x reader #dc universe #lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #supergirl cw #dcu

92 notes · View notes

claraswritings · 2 months

Note

I love Can I be the one- for Luca’s timeline, how do you think he’d propose? Would it be quick as they’re childhood friends or would he want the slow dating first?

omg so I have this in my head that although you didn’t get together for a while, that boy has been SO IN LOVE with you for ages that he does it quick but still romantic and cute af,

BLURB BTC 🩷

Luca never thought he’d have this…perfect life. Dream job, beautiful city, with his best friend now girlfriend.

From the day you’d landed back in Copenhagen and you’d confessed you were in love with each other, he’d slept in your room over looking the canal with you beside him. You’d spend nights tangled up in each other and in the mornings, he’d kiss you goodbye, and leave you sleeping, some delicious breakfast ready made for you. You in return would have something ready for him coming in and it was so…easy to go from best friends to boyfriend and girlfriend. The pair of you had even got matching tattoos. ‘I love you’ in each others writing just above your hearts.

No other woman came close. He’d had short term girlfriends before. Nothing that had lasted past a few months given he was so obviously in love with you. You felt the same as you told him on one occasion when you’d been having a slow, lazy make out in bed.

“What?” Luca said sweetly, pushing your hair back and kissing your lips.

“Just… why did I put up with all those disappointing dates and boyfriends when I could have been doing this…” you pulled him in for another kiss, lingering gently, pressing your forehead to his. “with you. My gorgeous, kind, sweet, loving best friend who was right in the next room.” You traced your hand down his strong bicep “I mean fucking hell, we’re stupid aren’t we.”

Luca laughed. “We’re making up for it now, my love”

Maybe it was stupid that the two of you had been friends for years, well over a decade and a half before he’d made the move but now that you were together, it seemed like it was always this way, like you’d always been a couple. He’d often had to remind himself that although you’d always been together, you hadn’t actually been together that long.

Not that it mattered. You knew him. He knew you. That was what mattered.

Luca, had he got his way, would have driven you both to the town hall on the way back from the airport.

****

“Remember our first week here?” Luca asked as you walked hand in hand along the canal. “You loved that boat.”

It was a cool, breezy evening in Copenhagen and you’d decided to go for a walk. It had already become a thing for you both to go for walks through the city exploring different areas and towns with it. You always loved visiting towns but he enjoyed it even more knowing you’d cuddle up to him as you walked, and he’d never get over seeing your hand interlocked with his.

You nodded and squeezed onto his arm. “Yeah,I remember, half our stuff was in storage and you were so worried about fucking up that you made that compressed watermelon and coconut sorbet every single morning. The whole boat was covered in coconut.”

Luca laughed at your teasing “I swear we were finding shredded coconut everywhere for weeks”

You smiled up at him and lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles“you know I think that’s why I use coconut body scrub now, I think I’ve got like weirdly attached to it”

Luca dipped his head down to kiss you “you know i appreciate it”

“Well when my boyfriend comes home smelling like fruit or chocolate or some sort of essence every day, I gotta do my bit too” you quipped back

“I’ll never get tired of that.” Luca kissed you again “you calling me your boyfriend.” he repeated and broke into a smile and playfully poked you in the side “And getting to call you my girlfriend”

He only hoped you couldn’t tell how nervous he was.

****

Luca had taken you to Geranium, a three Michelin star restaurant in the city that evening. He’d told you it was because one of his sous chefs had left to take over as the new CDC and wanted to check out the competition. Which was partially true. He could never lie to you, not wholly.

So he’d called in a favour. A private table in a quiet part of the restaurant, a twelve course tasting menu that he’d quietly provided some off the clock advice on to ensure that each course tailor made to an event in your lives together both as friends or as a couple.

A pasta dish with parma ham which reminded him of when you’d bought an entire leg of it one day in Venice and you’d ate so much of it that Luca had started to wonder if he’d have to start using it in a dessert. Now that would be a challenge.

A fine dining version of a pesto chicken dish that had been one of your beloved air fryer specials. You’d let out such a loud laugh at that.

A lemon and wasabi rice course as a reminder of when you’d dared him to eat a whole jar of it when you were both 18.

A passionfruit mousse and white chocolate course to remind you of the first meal you’d had together when you’d stayed in Rotterdam.

All through the meal he was trying to just force the words out. Maybe he could be the cheesy guy that put the ring in your champagne as a course of seared venison with pistachio puree was brought out… a reminder of your first meal as a couple or he could discreetly pass it under the table to be hidden in the strawberry, mint and elderflower dessert…the flavours the same as the ice cream you’d ordered when you went on a park walk one day but he held off.

He knew how he wanted to ask you.

****

As you continued your evening walk along the canal, past shops and cafes open but quiet, you could see the small boat moored in, the first place you’d lived in the city, just over the other side of a beautiful bridge.

You let out an excited gasp. It was decked out with lights. Little did you know it was due to a favour Luca had called in with the owner. He’d traded prestige reservations for this.

“Luca, Look at how beautiful it is with the lights” you leant on his shoulder “Is it weird I kinda miss it? I know it’s small and has a ghost cat” you joked “but it was special”

“I do too.” Luca nodded agreeing with your sentiment. “It was where I first realised I wanted to be here permanently…” he paused and brushed his hair back from his face with his fingers “not on the boat but I mean in Copenhagen.”

“I know what you mean,” you smiled. “The city…it just suits us doesn’t it”.

It wasn’t like you could make sense of it. You’d lived in several countries and cities but it was here you felt most at home. You’d spend quiet weekends exploring sights in local towns or walking and trying new food or finding local gardens to sit in where you could read together and sharing whatever pastries Luca had brought home that week. Maybe you loved it for the happiness and peace it brought him.

Luca felt the same. He’d always wanted to be head pastry chef at a Michelin starred restaurant and getting to do it here was even better. It gave him a calm he never knew he could have. It was like he’d found peace, where he was meant to be and who he was meant to be with. Everything finally made sense for him.

“you don’t get better than noma do you?” You nudged him slightly “still so proud of you, my babe.”

He grinned, a faint blush appearing, which you found even sweeter. “I love you” he says simply, looking at you adoringly. His hands around your waist, his head dipped to look in your eyes.

“You’re so cute, Luca” You stopped mid walk to give him a brief kiss, lingering softly. “I love you”

“Are you happy here?” He asked you, brushing your hair back and cupping your face to kiss you again.

“Never been happier.” You said.

“Every day I keep thinking this is a dream…” he stopped “I still can’t believe you chose me.” He said and kissed you again. He meant it. If you’d packed up and went home or to Chicago, he wouldn’t have blamed you. He’d have been devasted. He’d have done anything he could to change your mind but he’d have never blamed you.

“It was easy to chose you Luca” you grinned and he broke into a smile, you always did that. Reassured him how much you loved him. “We’re meant for each other…”

“Yes, we are” he kissed you deeply. “You fancy staying on the boat for a night, my love? For old times sake?” He suggested dipping into his pocket and holding up the keys with his hand.

****

Luca had picked out the ring a month ago but he’d known what one he’d want to get you forever.

It was custom made and from a small independent jewellers that you always stopped to look in the window of. He’d had one of the traditional messages you’d left him engraved on the inside and designed it so it was just your style.

As you began to walk across the bridge, you stopped to take a photo of the pretty canal and the boat lit up illuminated by the gentle haze of the lights and the hum of the city backdrop. You slipped your phone back into your bag and paused savouring the image, looking around as if you were trying to memorise it.

Taking a deep breath, Luca knew this was his opportunity, he got down on one knee atop the bridge and waited for you to turn.

“Luca?” You turned a second later, noticing he wasn’t behind you. As your eyes landed on him, he could see you carefully scanning him, assessing what was going on. “Luca what are you doing?”

“I know we haven’t been together as a couple for long. But we have been together forever.” Luca tried to keep his voice steady, letting out an exhale “It’s always been Luca and [Name]. I am the man I am because you love me. I want to spend every day making you as happy as you make me”

He opened the ring box and your jaw dropped

“I love you so much. I have always loved you, I will always love you. I never needed anyone like I need you. You’re everything to me, will you do me the honour of calling you my wife?”

“Oh my god” was the first thing you said as you took a step towards him. “Oh my god Luca!”

“So is that a yes?” Luca rose an eyebrow, the smallest smile on his face.

“Absolutely it’s a yes.” You felt yourself about to well up as he got up, took the ring outfit and slipped it over your ring finger. “Yes. It’s a million percent a yes”

Luca kissed your knuckles and then the inside of your wrist and then your lips. “Thank you”

He linked your hands together and pulled you into his side and as you found your way to the boat, he lifted you up into a bridal carry.

“Fancy letting me carry you over the threshold, my future wife?”

“We’re not married yet” you laughed “but sure nothing wrong with practice” you kissed him “I love you my Luca”

“I love you.” He said before planting a kiss on your lips and squeezing you “and I can think of one more thing we can practice”

Luca winked and you laughed at his line

“Well you know I can’t resist that” and pulled him in for another kiss before he carried you onto the boat to celebrate your engagement.

#luca the bear imagine #chef luca imagine #luca the bear x reader #luca x reader #chef luca x reader #the bear x reader

51 notes · View notes

scrubbinn · 2 months

Text

Slime HRT: 13 Months “Such a fickle thing”

“Recording now, starting dialog in 3, 2… Alright! Another month, another recording for the good doctor to listen to. You better be listening to this Theodore. Ugh, your name sucks, bad mouthfeel. I'm just gonna stick with doc. So then, where to start. It's a bit hard to focus on any one topic. A lot can happen in 30 days. Not to mention this isn't my first recording this month. I’ve been having trouble creating memories lately, so it’s nice to have a way to note things down. It's certainly been an interesting time to say the least.

Ok, I'll be honest, things have been rather difficult lately. I've been experiencing severe sharp pains in my whole body nearly everyday. Moving around without assistance is impossible some days. The theory goes that it stems from internal organs changing into slime, but most of my organs should already be made out of goo. At least according to Mayday's journals. But the pain is still there, and I can't understand why it won't disappear… At least I'm getting used to it. I'd rather not have the staff here constantly worried about me. Val, the head witch, offered some potions to help alleviate the pain. I sort of declined out of habit, but then I collapsed in the hallway. She insisted after that. They ended up helping a little bit with clearing my head. Wait, should I be starting at the beginning of the month? The pains really only started a week ago. How do you want me to present these? My memory is worse than I thought.”

“Ok just to be safe, let's go back to the start of the month, when you got back to me on that chunk of skin I sent in, and we found out it's made of fat, lye, and a few other particulates. Lye is the biggest component I'm made of, which makes sense. It's what a lot of soaps are made of, and it's what allows this body to jellify any meat I consume and break it down. It's kinda gross but it's a little cool at the same time. The other bits found though, well, I know you said it was nothing to worry about, but something about finding traces of dentin and enamel, something about it doesn't sit right. You mentioned it's just my dissolved teeth, still stuck inside, but they turned to rubber around 10 months ago, and eventually turned to goo. Shouldn't that mean a different material would be floating around if the hard tissues had already transformed? But the alternative ideas are, distressing, to say the least. And to say the most, if I start growing teeth from my skin, I will see how many lawsuits it takes to bankrupt you doc.”

“Moving back to the discussion of skin. My face and neck are now fully covered, besides the lips and eyeballs. Thanks to the numbing potions, it only tickles a bit. You don't want to know what it feels like when they wear off. I’m probably not going to be awake for most of the next month due to my face dissolving in on itself. I've heard horror stories from other slimes about getting your eyes and organs dissolved. Can’t say I’m looking forward to that. I’ll just have to ask the staff to be ready when they end up hearing screaming coming from my room. Though, come to think of it, my organs are already made out of goo right? It feels like they’re still holding their shape and even normal functions. Maybe it just, won’t, hurt when they’re integrated and dissolved? I'm already dealing with a lot of pain now, what happens when it really starts getting bad. Abigail was right about how dangerous this medication could be…"

“No, can't go thinking about that stuff now. Let's just try talking about something else. Oh! We can talk about eating! Ever since we found out what I’m made of, I’ve had a bit of a change in diet. Lots of fatty meats. Turns out I no longer digest plants anymore. I’m a pure carnivore. Abigail and I are planning a trip outside of Hyper city to visit this great little sushi place we used to go to. I hope they don’t mind if I just order a few whole fish. Er, yeah, I can’t deny I'm eating a lot of food. You’d imagine with no greens, grocery bills wouldn’t hurt the wallet so much. Well turns out meat is expensive, and when you buy a lot of it… Well I’m just glad T.H.E.M.S gives me a place to sleep."

Besides a diet change, I’ve been conducting my own experiments. It’s nothing too dangerous, I’ve just been ingesting different types of poison. Wait, no, hold on, before you speed dial my number! Ok, so I’m not doing something crazy like eating nightshade or anything, just the stuff I can find growing around here like ivy and those berries birds eat. But Lye is a type of poison. I think. So it makes sense that similar chemicals could be incorporated. After all, I don’t seem to have any acid inside me, it’s just poisons and venoms that break down cells, so I should be able to make different kinds. Figuring out how is still a process of trial and error, but don’t worry. I am being careful about it. So please, don’t get mad at me… Besides, imagine if I did learn how to control that sort of thing, I could create a bunch of different chemical compounds! I could be a walking chemistry lab!… Actually that sounds like it’d involve even more city paperwork. Let’s just keep that idea to ourselves, ok doc? And before you say anything! No, the poison is not causing my spikes of pain! That’s not how they work!”

“What else, what else to talk about… Have I talked about the memory troubles yet? It's been a bit of a disaster when it comes to scheduling anything. I need at least five reminders on my phone for any kind of appointment, and even then, you know I've missed a few checkups. I think my brain is getting replaced with slime instincts. I've been enveloping a lot of things without noticing. Arms and legs have been absorbing things without so much as a thought going into them. I spent a solid three hours searching for my phone only to feel it vibrate inside later and most of that time was spent trying to remember what I was searching for. I don't even know how it got there, I left it on my bedside table. I've heard a lot about what other therians have referred to this sort of mental change as a crossroads. Is that approaching? Did Mayday already agree to go through with it, and that's why I'm here? I feel like I'm losing my mind. End recording.”

“Ok, new tape… I think. Recording supplemental now. I have a theory about all the odd changes that have been going on. I looked back on Mayday's first journal. She somehow never made much thought about the doc mentioning the addition of chromatophores, a type of cell found in color changing animals. Though it seems they still haven't formed since I can't change colors at all. Combine that with my limbs moving on their own… There's a good chance that quack doctor combined some type of animal into the slime medication. Like an octopus, or a cuttlefish. It doesn't explain the bits of teeth floating around inside me, but the more I talk about it outloud, the more I realize I need to confront him about what exactly I'm taking. This doesn't feel like it's just a slime HRT, not anymore at least. I just have to remember to confront him. Memories are getting worse, concentration is completely shot from the pains. I just have to remember. I just need to remember… I just need to… I… I'm… hungry………………………

“hm? A recorder? Oh right! I was recording for the doc today, I'll send him this later. I feel so famished right now, when I get too hungry I start forgetting things and all that. Well… bye!”

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

Start - Prev - Next

Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

#trans #transgender #monster girl #slime girl #slime hrt #animal hrt #species hrt #therian hrt #otherkin hrt #therian #otherkin #fiction writing #original writing #creative writing

56 notes · View notes

0vereasy · 8 months

Text

Life’s Creation and Love’s Manifestation (Dr ratio x reader)- Chapter 4: Late Appraisal

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild, and delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

Taglist: @96jnie @boomie-123 @a2tral @ukiyo-ikigai @poemzcheng @kpopmenace143 @tseleven @rains-mae @comet-kun @thatanimewriter @lowlucifer @snailsposts @earthtooz @delightfuldragoncollection @soobinsgirlfriend @lvfel

COMMENT OR SEND ASK TO BE TAGGED

Masterlist

A/N: You can probably tell I’m pretty tired by the writing + shorter chapter, but I wanted to get something out. The original draft was longer but I wasn’t happy with the later half, so I thought I would just for with a smaller chapter this time and keep working at the later half for a better finished produce. This mainly serves as a transitional chapter anyway, with more action expected in the next one.

You know that stereotype where fanfic authors literally go through the craziest shit when they’re writing? Well the last few weeks I won my first trial as a law student, got a few good resolution for other clients all at once, ans started getting closer with my crush. So… I’ve been pretty busy as you can see lol. I have a term break in a few weeks, which is likely when the next chapter will come out, and where I will try to pre-write another chapter or two. Thank you all for being patient with the delay!

Chapter 4: Late Appraisal (3.8k+ words)

“I just don’t understand how this even happened!” you watched the short white-haired man pace around Herta’s office, his forehead crinkled in concentration and mouth twisted into a worried frown. You felt your head pulse with each of his footsteps, thumping in beat with the heavy taps of his feet on the tile floor, the ache getting worse with each motion he made. Aeons, you wish they never found you napping in the Seclusion Zone. At least then you could’ve dealt with your hangover in peace and quiet, “How could multiple researchers and a Herta puppet all go missing in one afternoon? Especially with our upgraded security! It just makes no sense.”

“If you let me go look at the security system, I could tell you,” you deadpanned, eyes trailing over to the office door briefly, as if contemplating some way to escape, before flickering back to your boss, “I don’t even get why you called me here, aren’t we wasting time with this meeting when we could be trying to fix things?”

“Wasting time?” Arlan rebutted, stopping his pacing and crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you, giving you little hope of making your escape from the office, “You know what’s a waste of time? Trying to track you down just to find out you were passed out drunk in the Seclusion Zone! Do you know how much time we wasted just trying to find you?”

“It was literally my day off, Arlan,” you huffed in reply, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms over your chest, “I don’t have to tell you where I am all the time. Not anymore at least.” You let the implication of the words hang in the air, something that didn’t go over well with your usually mellow boss, who seemed to be getting angrier by the minute. But hey, if he was gonna push your buttons, you weren’t just gonna sit there and take it.

“We’re in an emergency, Y/N!” he practically shouted at you, “It doesn’t matter if it's your day off! What would’ve you done if it was your day off when the Legion attacked? Stayed in your room and brushed it off?” You felt your body stiffen at his words, arms moving from their crossed state to hang loosely at your sides. You hated this; when you argued, when he used his knowledge of you and what would set you off for his own advantage. It was almost downright cruel.

“Don’t talk about the Legion attack,” your reply was quick, emotionless as if you were trying to avoid thinking of it yourself, “You know that’s different. A lot different.” At this point, you were willing to run out of the Herta’s Office, meeting be damned. The ache in your head paused for a moment replaced by a dull pain in your chest, mind swirling with thoughts you’d rather forget. You were almost afraid of how you appeared to your boss right now.

You watched Arlan’s eyes for the shift in emotion, hoping, praying that he was able to see where you were coming from. You saw it for a moment, like a flicker of hope burning within his purple orbs, before he blinked, sending the sympathy away from wherever it came from, “Is it though? For all we know, all of those researchers are dead! Adler could be dead!” You clenched your fist at the mention of the boy, the pounding in your head seeming to grow again.

“I get it!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air in frustration, “Which is why I wanna look at the security system to see how this happened! But instead were here arguing about stupid shit that doesn’t matter right now!” You watched as he began to pace around Herta’s office again, Herta’s holographic image of herself staring at the both of you, along with the other genius society portraits, as if they all were looking down on this conversation too. You couldn’t blame them.

“You know why were having this conversation,” Arlan was quieter now, but still stern, “We needed you, and you there was no way to contact you!” He let out a shaky sigh before talking again, “We even started to think you were taken too!” You took a deep breath, attempting to let the anger inside of you simmer down at the genuine tone of his voice.

“I already know that,” you sighed, “ Screwllum told me it all when he came to wake me up,” you raised an eyebrow, “You should’ve asked him sooner, I mean,” you tugged on your button-down shirt, holding back a wince at how the sudden action made your head pound harder, “You already know our relationship. If anyone knew where I was, it would be him” You released the shirt, begrudgingly moving a hand to hold your head now, unable to pretend that you didn’t feel like shit any longer. Arlan looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read; disgust? Pity? You’d honestly rather not know.

“How much did you drink yesterday?” Arlan asked you, pausing his pacing again to change the subject, his expression still holding anger, but voice quiet, as if he was preparing to hear bad news. You thought about putting up a fuss for a moment, but sighed, preparing yourself to relent on this point, as if the alcohol was holding you back from hiding the extent of your poor state.

“A bottle of wine,” you said simply, crossing your arms across your chest again. You almost looked stupid, standing in the office in your sweatpants and Screwllum’s shirt, confessing your problems, while Arlan stared back at you in proper uniform, leaving the power imbalance between you two evident visually and audibly, “And a bit of Vodka,” you left the part about the vodka being in your water bottle unspoken, not prepared to deal his rant on that topic that the two of you had gone through hundreds of times before, though the pitying look on his face told you that he already knew.

“You really have to stop this,” Arlan said, voice losing the anger now, holding nothing but pity. Honestly, you preferred him angry. When Arlan became sentimental and looked at you like you were a lost cause or some sort of fuck up, for some reason nothing in the world felt worse. You didn’t know what it was; the way his lips curved into a frown like no other he ever displayed, or how his big eyes became downturned, a flicker of pain etched onto them and the rest of his features, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself…”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you stared into his pitying eyes, hand from your head moving back to your side as you forced both your features and stance into neutrality as if that would fight off the emotions that threatened to spill from you.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said firmly, though not unkindly, “You know what I think about your drinking… what Asta thinks,” he let that name hang in the air for a moment, sending a shiver down your spine that made you wince, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your boss. Arlan sighed, the sternness from before fading away into his usual kind demeanour, “You know I can’t control what you do; you’re an adult. But when your drinking gets in the way of your job; when you pass out somewhere where we can’t find you when we need you, thats when it becomes an issue.”

“Arlan,” you spoke his name, whether in warning for him to stop, or in frustration at the change in track of conversation, you couldn’t say.

“You know the Station is vulnerable after the attack… you know it better than anyone,” he said softly, “So we need you to be at 100% all the time… I know I already extended your hours after the whole incident from a few days ago,” you gritted your teeth at the previous punishment you had received due to your actions on the night that the stupid alcaster face bastard arrived, “but I don’t think that’s enough for what we need from you right now.”

“What are you suggesting?” you huffed, tapping a finger against your thigh impatiently. It clearly wasn’t the first time you received punishment and definitely wouldn’t be the last. At least that was something familiar in your life, you mused - at least something in your life could follow a steady routine.

“... You can’t drink any alcohol for the rest of the month,” he said firmly, quickly speaking again when he saw you open your mouth in protest, “Okay, maybe not the month… but at least until we get the researchers back and solve the confidence issues… I need you sober right now, Y/N.”

“You know its not that easy to just… stop,” you muttered, eyes moving to look at your feet. Even now, early in the morning, probably a bit over 12 hours from your last drink, you felt jittery, like you needed something to quell your nerves. Without the alcohol, and even with the pounding head, things were too… vivid, real. It was overwhelming to experience the sensations in the world how they were meant to be seen without the dull drag of a foggy blanket taking over your mind. How were you supposed to go a few days like this?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, catching your glance as you looked back at him, “I don’t have a choice right now… let's talk more later, go, try to figure out why the security system went down last night.”

You opened your mouth, as if to respond, but allowed it to close again, turning your back to the man, “Whatever… talk to you later… Brother Arlan,” you left Herta’s office before he could respond to your use of his common teasing nickname around the station, not being in the mood to deal with another yelling match today. You unceremoniously slam the door behind you before you practically drag your body towards the elevator. Around you, you could hear the panicked gossip of various researchers, a sound that did nothing to calm the pounded headache that continued to make every movement a hassle. Part of you thought about talking to them - telling them that everything was under control.

The other part of you recognized that you probably looked like a hot mess right now, and didn’t bother. They already didn’t trust you anyway - you weren’t stupid. If anything, approaching them would probably make things worse than it already was. So, you dragged your body down the stairs, onto the main floor of the master control zone and to the elevator, fully intent on not acknowledging anyone’s existence.

It was only the sniffles of one specific person that made you do a double-take before you could press the button to call the elevator. Wen Shiling was a few feet behind you, trying to hide her sobs in her sleeve, but failing to do so, her small body physically shaking, evident even from your distance away from her. It was times like these when you wondered how children were even allowed to be researchers on this Station in the first place - it made you wonder how they could handle the stress that even you struggled to deal with. You paused, mind flickering between Wen Shiling and the elevator, sighing when you ultimately decided on the former, trudging your quiet body towards hers.

“Wen Shiling?” you spoke softly, bending down to be closer to her height, the action paining your head. Honestly, with your hangover and usual tone of conversation, you really had no idea how to approach comforting her… or anyone really, “What’s wrong sweetie, are you okay?” you hesitated before reaching a hand out, touching her gently on the shoulder. Her eyes seemed to water as she took in your form, a long sob escaping her lips. She looked from your hand to you, as if contemplated whether she wanted to move away, though she kept herself firmly planted in place.

“No, I’m mad!” she cried, wiping her teary eyes on her sleeve. She offered you know no other words, too focused on stifling her sobs, which were still obnoxiously loud. You resisted the urge to cover your ears to block out the noise despite her cries doing nothing to soothe your headache. You gently rubbed your hand up and down her back, hoping that it offered some form of comfort to the girl.

Though she wasn’t clear about the source of her anger, it was clear enough to guess, “You don’t have to worry about Adler, we’ll definitely bring him back soon.” Of course you left out the part where you had no idea where the little boy was or if he was even alive… but you really didn’t want to get into discussing the philosophy of life and death with a eight year old. Your mind flickered to Adler’s stupid book you had borrowed, the one you hadn’t cracked open since the night your… enjoyable evening with Screwllum was interrupted by the damned doctor you had been forced to accommodate. What if you never saw him again… what if he never got to talk to you about the book? You internally shook your head, focusing again on Wen Shiling in front of you. Aeons, if only you could have a drink to take the edge off…

“I don’t want him back… he’s stupid!” she sobbed again. You tried not to cringe at the snot covering the sleeves of her dress, forcing yourself to focus on her words, “He doesn’t talk to me and then disappears…! I don’t even want him here!”

“I’m sure he was just busy,” you attempt to soothe the girl, cursing the Aeons for failing to give you skills in soothing children. Deciding your ability to comfort children was lacking, you decided to only logically thing you could do was change your tone to match your usual personality, “You know, once we get him back I’m sure he’ll be sorry for how he treated you. That’ll serve him right, huh?.”

“He’ll be sorry?” she echoed your words, blinking dumbly up at you. You nodded in encouragement, hoping that you finally found some method to calm her crying. You forced yourself to plaster the a smile on your face, as if everything was fine and you weren’t currently feeling like death from a hangover and dealing with the aftermath of another invasion and your alcohol problem all at the same time.

“Of course! Im sure we can even make him take an afternoon off his stupid ecology research,” you said with smirk, happy to at least let your genuine thoughts shine through for a moment before the inevitable hours of seriousness ahead, “I heard he’s horrible at board games, we could force him to play one beat him to a pulp.”

Wen Shiling smiled a bit, though her frown returned soon after, “Big sis… Can I ask you something? But you have to tell me the truth.”

Feeling like you were getting the farthest using your typical personality, you let your genuine thoughts ring through in your answer “Sure, I’m not a liar,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, “what’s up?”

“…” she hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Do you really think Adler is okay? … You think we’ll find him?” You stared at her for a moment, taking in her big brown tearful eyes and the snotty sleeves on her dress, an expression mixed with hopefulness and worry plastered all over her features. You forced a confident smirk on your face, placing your hands on your hips in mock confidence.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

It wasn’t your first time lying to a kid, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last either.

~~~~

Your head continued to pound as the elevator descended, countless sounds filling your head. Arlan’s yelling… Wen Shiling’s crying… it all fluttered around your brain like snow, casting an endless stream of emotions on your already overwhelmed brain. Your mind drifted to your water bottle which you knew sat on your desk in your room… would Arlan even know if you took a sip from it… He couldn’t right? How would he? There was no way he could actually expect to accurately record your sobriety, you thought to yourself. No, you just had to be sneaky with it - a few sips here and there to quell your thoughts… thats all you would need… just something to take the edge off. Even the thought of the alcohol seemed to quiet your brain, like a blanket may drive off heat on a cold night. If you were in your right mind, maybe you would realize how worrisome your thoughts truly were… but right now you really didn’t care.

“When an elevator arrives at its destination, you are expected to dismount it,” you blinked back into focus at the familiar irritating voice, eyes falling on to the Doctor. Dressed in his usual clothes, though lacking his alabaster head, he stared at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were some sort of unusual specimen in his lab. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame him. You hadn’t even realized your elevator had arrived at the floor with everyone’s personal quarters, too caught up in your thoughts to notice, which left you standing blankly forward despite the door already having opened.

“And when someone doesn’t get out, you’re expected to politely address them, not be a snarky asshole,” you shot back, forcing yourself to leave the elevator. Not ready to end the conversation, but not wanting the elevator to go away, the Doctor stepped inside, pressing the door open button.

“Your insults lack creativity when you are hung over,” he deadpanned, sighing - whether in disappointment or disgust, you didn’t know, “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I was looking for you, you need to come with me.”

You rose an eyebrow at the Doctor, “Uh, kinda in the middle of trying to solve a crisis right now,” you deadpanned, “I’m sure you’ve heard about it… ya know, missing researchers, faulty security system. Don’t really have time for whatever bullshit you’re up to right now.”

“You wound me,” he states, though his face shows no sign of any emotion, “Since when do I act without purpose?” He looked at you with disgust, as if he was shocked at the suggestion, “Of course I am aware of the current predicament and I wish to help you.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, arms crossed in front of your chest, “And why would you do that exactly? What’s in it for you?” skepticism dripped from your tone, a fact that you knew was all too apparent for the Doctor, who met your gaze defiantly, “Literally all you’ve done since getting here is be a pain in the ass and then almost get me killed - your actions don’t really scream helpful.”

“I seem to recall I was helpful enough in procuring wine for you and allowing you to sleep in my presence,” he smirked cockily, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, “Or do actions such as those not qualify as helpful in your dictionary?”

“The only thing that helped with is getting me chewed out by my boss, so thanks for that I guess, what a help you are,” you rolled your eyes, tempted to walk away, but for some reason forcing yourself to stay put, “I don’t know what the hell was in that wine you gave me, but I swear I’m not usually that… clingy.” You thought you should say more, but chose to stay silent deciding you already made enough of a fool of yourself, “Honestly I don’t even remember most of the shit I did last night.”

“Alcohol interferes with one’s ability to form long term memories, such a fact is really not suprising,” he said matter-of-factly, a cocky smirk coating his features. You barley knew this man, but he seemed to always revel in the ability of making people feel dumb, “Luckily for you, I retained my own memory of the evening, if you wish to recall more.”

“I’d rather not learn more things Arlan can yell at me about, thanks,” you huffed, forcing the conversation back to its original topic, “So really, why do you wanna help me? What’s in it for you?”

“Many things really,” he said casually, finger still firmly pressing the open button on the elevator door, “The satisfaction of helping idiots some a simple problem, the joy of reuniting the researchers with their companions… or the pleasure of building a diplomatic relationship between the IPC and the Space Station as I was directed.”

“Should’ve known of course it was about the diplomacy,” you smirked at him, propping an arm next to the elevator door, “You clearly wouldn’t act kindly on your own accord. Got your own boss who you’re afraid will chew you out like mine?”

The Doctor’s face soured at the mention of a boss, “I’d rather not think of my acquaintances at the IPC, they are not the most fond people to be around.” The scowl on his face made you interested in learning more, but the Doctor was quick to change the subject, “I merely offered my assistance to Miss Asta and she accepted. The mere certitude that doing so will satisfy my companions is simply a bonus.”

“Whatever, I don’t care if Asta got you to help, I have my own work to do,” you brushed him off, turning to move away from the elevator. You were startled when a firm hand grasped your arm, preventing you from leaving. The Doctor’s skin was warm, radiating heat through Screwllum’s dress shirt. His touch mass you freeze in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder at the Doctor.

“I’m not asking you,” he said plainly, as if disgusted that you hadn’t picked up on that sooner, “You prescene has been requested.” You felt mesmerized for a moment by his presence, the scent of his cologne filling your nose due to your close proximity. His golden eyes seemed to bore into you, as if staring into your soul. It was the first time you really took in how… handsome he looked. Of course you had noticed before… you had eyes of course, but something about how he looked at you now seemed to awaken something within you, something you were desperate to push away, while at the same time wanting to cling on to it.

Snapping into your senses, you yank your hand from his, crossing it over your chest once more, “Requasted by who?”

“Hmmm what was the word you used for it again?” The Doctor’s hand, now free from holding your wrist, went to his chin in contemplation, “Ah yes, that’s it. A situationship. Screwllum requested your prescene.” With his other hand, he let go of open door button, allowing the door to close behind him, “We’ll see you in the Seclusion Zone.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai starrail #honkai starrail x reader #doctor ratio #doctor ratio x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #screwllum #screwllum x reader

118 notes · View notes

jahayla-parker · 9 days

Note

Cardan x reader on a date or yn showing the city she's from (mortal) doing human stuffs and showing him her fav movies or shows or favourite artists

His Dearest Human : Cardan Greenbriar x Reader

Descr: 3.5k wc, Cardan and y/n venture back to the mortal world so she can show him what her life was like before she moved to Elfhame. Fluff.

Warnings: One curse word.

Notes: No but just imagine, a boyfriend who you now literally is incapable of lying no matter how much he might want to and so when he is always complimenting you, you know it’s nothing but genuine 😭

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” Cardan questioned nervously, eyes quickly taking in their environment.

“Excuse me?” Y/n remarked in offense, turning to face him.

Cardan bit the side of his bottom lip as he looked back her way. “This seems like a metal death trap on wheels,” he criticized.

“Because of me?” Y/n asked, narrowing her eyes. She wasn’t being reckless. And he’d been in a car before. They’d not even made it down the street yet. Why was he so scared of her driving?

“No, no,” Cardan reassured her as he shook his head. “Just in general appearance, but…”

“But?”

Cardan once again analyzed the drivers of the other cars as they passed by. “They’re all older,” he observed. “Beautiful, you left here when you were young. Do they teach you to operate these… cars, that young?” He wondered aloud. “‘Cause I don’t see anyone nearly that young,” he commented as he yet again scanned the nearby cars.

Y/n giggled and felt the tension leave her body upon realizing what prompted Cardan’s worry. She moved one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed his hand. “Y/f/n taught me when I came back for a visit, I promise I won’t be killling either of us tonight,” she soothed, gazing over at him momentarily to check on him. She watched as he nodded silently before resuming his staring out the passenger window.

A few minutes later, y/n pulled up to a red light and looked over at him. She frowned lightly upon catching him having been staring at her as she drove. “Cardan, honey,” she cooed, taking his hand again. “Are you still worried? We can walk instead if-”.

Cardan quickly shook his head to dispel her doubts and concern. “You’re just amazing,” he confessed simply.

“What?”

“You’re so exquisitely enchanting,” Cardan confessed. “Sure there are decently attractive women in Elfhame and here too,” he spoke candidly. “But, you’re far more beguiling,” he hummed. “And yet, you can also operate this thing safely and effortlessly”.

Y/n giggled and pulled his hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’re so precious,” she hummed.

“Ooh, check this out,” y/n exclaimed with a smile as she turned on the radio on as the light in front of them changed to green. “Perfect timing,” she clapped before turning it up a bit as y/f/a played through the speakers.

Cardan’s eyes instinctively widened at the unexpected sound but listened carefully to the noises the car was now making. His head whipped away from the direction of the sound upon hearing y/n singing along.

“I’ve never heard you sing before,” Cardan realized.

“My mom and I used to sing each time we were in the car together,” y/n told him, recalling a cherished memory of her childhood in the mortal world.

“I can see why she’d want that,” Cardan acknowledged. “You have a majestic voice,” he complimented dazedly.

Y/n bashfully bit her lip. “Thank you Cardan, but the reason people do it is simply because it’s fun,” she explained. “I’m sure within the next few days, by the end of our trip, you’ll have heard one of the songs enough to be able to join along,” she thought out loud as she switched the stereo to CD instead of the radio so it gave Cardan the chance to participate by the end of the week since it would be the same set of songs he’d be hearing this way.

“Teach me how to play?” Cardan asked as y/n finished explaining the childhood game she and her friends used to play before she moved to Elfhame. His eyes shone brightly with interest as he thought through her descriptions of the activity. His mind generated what he pictured she’d have looked like at that age and watched as the little girl ran through the field they were currently in as she played with her friends. Cardan desperately wanted to know everything about her life, especially her childhood and life before moving to Elfhame where they eventually met. Hopefully he could find ways to bring some of those joyful memories and activities back when they left the mortal world behind again for a bit.

Y/n smiled shyly over at Cardan and nodded. “Sure, but we’re going to need more people,” she explained. “You could technically play with just two, but it’s much more fun with others”.

Cardan hummed and nodded. “Well then, we’ll save that for later when your y/fam/member is done working. Where to now my love?”

“We’re in the middle of a storm and you want to stop?” Cardan questioned with wide eyes as he spun to face y/n.

Y/n giggled and nodded. “Just trust me Cardan,” she ordered lightly as she pulled him out from under the minimal coverage the row of trees above them had been providing. She tugged him out into the empty street with her as a grin naturally took over her face. She adjusted her hold on his hands and spun around with him gleefully as the rain poured down on them.

Cardan once again found y/n’s grin to be infectious, as was her exuberant expression. He copied her grin as he moved closer to her to wrap his arms around her torso. He continued their spinning until the two of them were dizzy and drenched from the rain.

“Would this be a something you’d do on a date?” Cardan asked thoughtfully as he examined the bookshelf in front of him, his hand resting on y/n’s lower back. He had to be annoying with how frequently he’d asked this same question. He had asked it about nearly every activity they’d done. But he wanted had to know. Especially if these were the kind of dates his queen possibly secretly wanted from him but didn’t know how to ask for.

“Y/n?” Cardan inquired as he reached the small white table she was at in the food court, his eyes distant as he contemplated what he’d seen.

“Hmm?” Y/n hummed, grabbing his hand as he sat down beside her. She watched him closely. He was clearly thinking something over. She just didn’t know what.

Cardan briefly looked away from y/n and over to where the interaction had taken place. He shook his head in confusion and turned back to her. “This male mortal,” he whispered, having learned from y/n that most people in the mortal don’t know to make/of such a distinction. “Asked this female mortal if she came here often,” he explained slowly, still thinking it through in hopes he could understand it on his own. “I confess I am not certain if he meant the shopping mall in general or the dinning hall were in,” he admitted, lightly licking his lips. “But, the female mortal was visibly upset and even scoffed at the male before walking away.”

“Ahh,” y/n nodded, piecing together what Cardan had witnessed on his way back to her from getting their orders.

“Is that… normal? One would find that an easy enough question to answer, no?” Cardan questioned further.

Y/n giggled lightly as she smiled lovingly at him. “He wasn’t truly interested in how often she comes here,” she explained softly. As she watched his eyes narrow in further confusion, she squeezed his hand. “It’s a pickup line,” she informed him before taking a fry from his plate.

“A…… pickup… line..?” Cardan pondered aloud, her words not having cleared anything up for him. In fact, he’d argue he was even more confused now. What was a pickup line? Who was picking up what? What did a line have to do with it?

“A pickup line,” y/n echoed with an affirmative nod. “It’s…,” she paused as she contemplated the best way to explain the term, “a flirtation, so to speak”.

“Well I can see why she walked away,” Cardan huffed with a shake of his head. He took a sip of his… milkshake as he recalled the interaction he’d unintentionally witnessed. “What a pathetic attempt at flirting.” He scoffed and halfway rolled his eyes. “Come here often?” He mimicked with audible judgement.

Y/n giggled loudly, a wide grin on her face at his behavior. “It is a very over used and generic approach,” she agreed with a nod. “But, not everyone can be as adroitly flirtatious as you Cardan,” she winked. She leaned over the table to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Cardan beamed at the action. “I mean, even this,” he said as he grabbed a flower from the nearby planters that surrounded the dinning hall. He tenderly passed it to her before kissing her hand. “Is better, no?” He concluded.

Y/n beamed admiringly at him and nodded. “Much,” she agreed. “But, I’m also biased,” she confessed with a flirtatious winked.

“This is where I went to school last before moving to Elfhame,” y/n summarized as they stepped onto the school grounds.

Cardan looked around in silence for a few moments, taking everything in. “What’s that contraption?” He asked, pointing towards a metal stand a few yards away.

Y/n followed Cardan’s finger until her eyes found the swing set. Elfhame had swings of its own sort, of course. But, truthfully they were nothing compared to those in the mortal world. The Elfhame ones were far more beautiful, having usually been made from the trees and vines nearby, but more relaxing as well. As great as that was, they didn’t swing as high or fast, it was more of a swaying chair than anything. And for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what Elfhame referred to them as in this moment. It wasn’t swings or a swing set… In her defense, they weren’t found many places in Elfhame as there were far better options of things to do. Unable to find the Elfhame equivalent for it, she merely hummed and grabbed his hand. “Come here, I’ll show you”.

As they reached the swing set, she grabbed the chains supporting the seat and instructed, “sit here”.

Cardan couldn’t help but be skeptical. Whatever he was about to sit on was made of metal and plastic yet didn’t look very secure. But, he nevertheless did as she said. Just…, slowly.

“Okay, now hold onto these, I’m going to push you,” y/n explained as she moved to step behind him and the swing.

“Push me?!” Cardan echoed loudly.

Y/n giggled and realized in that moment that Cardan likely hadn’t even used the Elfhame equivalent either before. After all, when would he have? Before they met, he wasn’t exactly known for doing much relaxing or other calm behaviors. This was going to be fun. He’ll love this. Still giggling, she nodded and kissed his cheek before stepping away. “Yes handsome, that’s how these work. I’ll start slow,” she promised. “You’ll be fine, just keep your feet off the ground and hold on to the chains okay?”

Cardan nodded slowly and hesitantly turned back around, having moved to watch her make her way behind him. He nervously lifted his legs from the ground just as she lightly pressed her palms against his back. The seat he was on moved in response to her push, bringing him forward and up. “Oh!”

“You doing okay?” Y/n asked softly, slightly worried as she couldn’t see his face.

After a few more soft pushes, Cardan nodded.

“Want to go faster or higher?”

Cardan silently nodded again, his focus stuck on the weird floating sensation the movement was causing him to feel in his chest.

Y/n smiled to herself and pushed him a little more forcefully. “Just keep holding on Cardan, I don’t feel like watching you fly off,” she commented.

After several minutes of silent swinging, y/n slowed her pushes. Once it was swinging low and slow enough, she gently grabbed the chains and slowed it to a halt. “Well?” She asked, moving back to his front.

“It was fun,” Cardan grinned widely.

Y/n smiled happily and reached up to fix his wind blown hair. “I figured you’d enjoy it”.

Cardan hopped off the seat and turned to inspect it. “What is it called?” he asked.

“Swings, or swing set”.

“Because one swings on it?” Cardan asked rhetorically.

“Mhm,” y/n nodded.

“And you did this at school?” Cardan questioned as he spun back to face her.

Y/n bopped her head side to side. “We were given breaks a few times a day to play outside and this was one of the things we could do during that time”.

Cardan nodded in understanding. He glanced and at the area surrounding them. “Has it changed since you played here?” he wondered.

Y/n again tilted her head side to side. “Slightly, but nothing significant,” she observed.

Cardan lovingly gazed at y/n with a soft smile. “Take me through what a day at school looked like for you before?” He requested.

“I can see why this was your favorite … restaurant?” Cardan trailed off in question, unsure if he got the term right.

Y/n nodded as she supportively squeezed his hand across the table.

“It’s very delectable,” Cardan complimented before taking another bite of his dinner.

Y/n grinned, “I’m pleased you like it!”

Cardan silently scanned the empty field that stood in front of. After feeling like he’d memorized it enough, he gazed back at y/n. He waited patiently with a soft smile as he noticed she was seemingly recalling memories of the area.

Y/n blinked quickly upon coming back to the present moment and feeling Cardan’s eyes on her. He was waiting for an explanation or story as to why they were here. What this place meant to her. She hummed softly. “My mom used to take me here when I was little,” she began quietly. “It used to be full of little flowers,” she said with a disappointed sigh given the field was dried up now. “Well, weeds technically I suppose,” she shrugged, “but to a three year old who loved anything that resembled flowers, there wasn’t a difference.” Her eyes lit up as she suddenly had an idea. She quickly turned towards Cardan and tapped his arm. “Tag, you’re it,” she exclaimed, a childish grin forming as she ran a few steps away. She stopped nearby and faced him, knowing she’d have to explain how it worked and what to do.

“I’m what?” Cardan asked, befuddled.

“It’s a game called tag, the person who is it is the person having to chase the other person as that person runs away, the person who is it tries to tap the runner in order to turn the other person into the chaser, or, it,” she explained with air quotes.

Cardan nodded slowly as he absorbed the instructions. “And what do I win if I catch you?” He pondered.

“Technically the game goes on and on, usually it’s more than two people,” y/n shrugged carelessly. “But, either way, it just goes until you decide to stop”.

Cardan smirked wickedly, eyes glowing as he stepped towards her. “Hmmm, I have a better idea,” he taunted.

“What’s that?” She asked, easily seeing the glint in his eyes.

Cardan pursed his lips smugly. “You’ll see,” he answered vaguely. “You better start running, dear,” he advised as he started to jog closer to her. He smiled as she giggled and began to run.

Cardan chased her halfheartedly for a bit, letting her enjoy the moment. But when he caught her, he wrapped her in his arms and tickled her, causing her to squeal and squirm. Cardan then effortlessly lifted y/n over his shoulder and walked back to the basket she brought for their picnic. He carefully set her down and bent to her level to kiss her, “I win”.

Y/n bashfully bit her lip as she grinned up at him.

“You can rest,” y/n commented as they rode in the back seat of her friend’s (who, like y/n, was mortal but also from Elfhame) car as y/f/n drove. They’d finished showing Cardan around downtown moments ago and were now headed back to where they had been staying during their trip.

“I thought we were going to,” Cardan began, stopping as a yawn rudely interrupted him. “Watch…something,” he trailed off shyly, having forgotten the term.

Y/n smiled lovingly and nodded, “we’re watching a movie”. “But, we cannot do that until we get back to the house,” she explained quietly as she played with his soft curls. “And you’ve already seen all the places we’ll be passing by,” she knowingly reassured him, “so sleep”.

Cardan nodded appreciatively and shifted in his seat. He moved so he could rest his head on her lap as he cuddled against her torso.

Y/n watched as Cardan effortlessly fell asleep. He was always so quick to fall asleep. No matter where. It wasn’t fair. She played tenderly with his hair as she too felt her eyes getting heavy. She was nearly about to doze off when she heard her friend comment about how sweet it was for Cardan to be so interested in her mortal life. Y/n grinned proudly, gazing down at him as he held her waist, his beautiful long eyelashes splashed across his sharp cheekbones. “He… He always adoringly calls me his dearest human,” she confessed quietly as she leaned onto his sleeping form and closed her eyes to rest after their busy day so she’d be ready for movie night later.

“Okay so, just get cozy and enjoy,” y/n beamed excitedly as she walked back to the couch to join Cardan after putting y/f/m into the DVD player. She pressed play and leaned against Cardan’s chest. She tilted her head to the side and watched as he intently focused on the television screen. She’d already explained the device, as well as TV shows and movies, including what they were and how they worked. So, she knew his visibly deep intrigue was simply because she’d mentioned they’d be watching her favorite movie tonight as opposed to a random show or film as they’d done in the past few days since arriving in the mortal world.

She cuddled up against Cardan further, leaning into his embrace, making him smile as his eyes briefly departed the screen to gaze down at her. As much as y/n tried to enjoy the movie while she and Cardan were wrapped up in each other’s arms, her focus was elsewhere. He was unfairly attractive when he wore comfy clothes like the sweats he currently had on. Although, he also was painfully gorgeous in the leather jacket he’d picked out their first day. And the plain t-shirts he’d tried on a few days ago. And in his normal silky and intricate clothing from Elfhame. What was she doing wasting her time trying to list these out? It was simple. Cardan was always just that beautiful.

“You’re not watching your favorite movie,” Cardan observed, sensing her gaze on him.

“Sorry,” she laughed shyly. “I was distracted”.

Cardan blushed at the implication and tickled her sides playfully. “Don’t distract me, I’m trying to watch the movie,” he scolded lovingly. “I’ll attend to you after”.

“Attend to me?” She chuckled and shook her head. She smiled to herself as she relaxed back into his arms. Damn he was adorable.

“Thank you for teaching me so many things,” Cardan commented, watching y/n as she drove them back to the house. It was their last day. He’d learned so much. And had so many plans for when they returned to Elfhame.

Y/n smiled over at Cardan and nodded. “Thank you for coming with me, my King”.

Cardan nodded, an expression on his face that he hoped communicated to her how unnecessary he found her appreciation to be. “I wanted to,” he vowed.

“I know, but still,” she gazed over at him, her smile having grown with his reassurances. “I hope you had fun”.

“Undoubtedly, love,” Cardan said, answering her indirect question. “I was able to learn so much about you and your earlier life,” he said with a content smile. “Do you miss it?” he questioned hesitantly after a few seconds.

“Sometimes,” she admitted truthfully. “But I love our home more,” she promised squeezing his hand tightly.

Cardan hummed, looking around at the houses and buildings they were passing by. “We’ll be back to visit,” he vowed, “whenever you’d like”.

Y/n hummed as she formed an appreciative smile.

“Until then,” Cardan spoke, using the hand that wasn’t holding hers to reach for the stereo. He pinched the knob labeled ‘volume’ and rotated his fingers slowly, not having done this before and not wanting to mess it up. He had studied the way she’d done it each time before and evidently it paid off as the volume escalated with his touch. He grinned excitedly as she started to sing. When it reached the chorus, he joined in, earning a surprised but happy smile from y/n.

By the time they got to the house, they were both loudly singing along. Y/n was right, it was enjoyable. Though, this whole trip had been. And not just because he’d spent it with his dearest human.

Cardan Greenbriar Masterlist

Book Boyfriend(s) Masterlist

All Works/Main Masterlist

Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

#high king cardan #cardan greenbriar #cardan greenbriar x reader #original post #Cardan Greenbriar x you #Cardan Greenbriar x yn #Cardan Greenbriar fanfic #Cardan Greenbriar oneshot #Cardan Greenbriar tfota

21 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 1 year

Text

Green Devil with Nico Hischier

A/N: I’m feeling a lil angsty Nico RN. Like I love fluff, but I wanted a little bit of sass from him.

This is part of What My World Spins Around AU. Catch the rest on my masterlist here.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning: Swearing, jealousy, lil angsty, hinting at smut cause it’s me.

Tonight, I’m living.

Someone bought my coffee in line at the drive thru this morning. Nico is home, and my best friend from high school, Connor, is in town for work. I’ve been dying for Nico and Connor to meet since we started dating, but the timing never seemed to work until Connor texted me last week that he had some time on his next trip. Once I saw Nico was in town, I jumped at the offer.

“I’m really excited for you to meet Connor!” I bubble to Nico as we walk down the sidewalk towards a trendy, Tapas bar.

“Me too.” Nico responds as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. I shiver, clutching his side to try and suck some of the warmth from his body. “Remember I need to leave by 9 though. If you want to stay later, that’s cool with me.” He grasps the handle of the door, opening it for me to walk in. He gives my ass a discreet slap as I go in front of him. I toss a suggestive look over my shoulder that he receives while biting his lip.

If I wasn’t so caught up in myself, I would have taken note of the immediate change in Nico when Connor and I rush to embrace each other. Connor wraps me in a tight hug that causes me to miss the irked expression on Nico’s face about how close his hands are to my ass.

“You look incredible.” Connor smiles widely, taking me in from head to toe. I pose for a second as a joke while he keeps his hands on my hips.

“Find a NHL captain and you too can be this happy.” I turn to Nico who has pasted a polite smile on his face that doesn’t quiet meet his eyes. “Babe, this is Connor. Connor, Nico.”

“Hey man, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Nico extends a hand. They shake firmly. Connor breaks first.

“You too, man.” Connor juts his chin out in acknowledgment at Nico, then crosses his arms over his chest. “They’re just getting our table cleaned.”

“Oh, okay.” I nod. “So tell me all about Miami. I am dying to hear about your new condo.”

“Unreal views. You should come down next month. We can have a fun weekend together. Get wasted on expensive tequila like Cabo.”

“Oh my god, no.” I hide my face.

“She legally cannot step foot in that resort again.” Connor says to Nico, snickering.

“Long story.” I shake my head, red tinging my cheeks. I’ve never told Nico about it because it’s still so cringy and embarrassing. Connor motions like he’s spewing vomiting. I slap his bicep to give him a warning. “Stop. Seriously.”

Luckily, the host is ready to show us to our table. We spend the rest of the night chatting. Connor and I reminisce about our old high school friends we have lost touch with. We stalk their Facebook pages and Instagrams, laughing at how the more things change the more they stay the same in our hometown. Nico is quiet, but that’s normal with people he doesn’t know well. He seems to be content with fading into the background. At least I thought so.

“I think I’m going to head out.” Nico begins to put his jacket on as Connor and I look over the dessert drink menu. I turn to him, surprised. I check my Apple Watch, seeing it’s barely 8pm.

“Oh okay. Are you okay?” I ask, lowering my voice while I examining him for signs of distress. He seems fine. Maybe he’s just tired?

“Yep. Have a good night, baby.” He barely presses his lips to mine before he pulls away, leaving me with unsatisfied, puckered lips. He tells Connor it was great meeting him as he tosses a few hundred dollar bills on the table for the bill. When his body moves from beneath my fingers, I feel an uneasy chill from his absence. Something doesn’t feel right about this. Connor doesn’t notice and dives back into his persistence of me coming to visit him in Miami next month.

“Um…” I cut him off. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.” I say abruptly, grabbing my coat and purse before rushing to the front of the restaurant. The cold air blasts me, stealing my breath as I look to the left where Nico is about to turn into the parking lot.

“Nico.” I call after him, hustling to catch up with his long strides. “What is up with you?” I ask him breathlessly, reaching for his hand and pulling him to a stop. “And what was that kiss?” I wrinkle my nose in displeasure.

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.” His shoulders are rolled inwards as he talks to me, grimacing against the cold wind whipping down at us. I sigh, not liking the way he looks above my head.

“Neeks, you seem upset with me.”

“I’m not.” He shrugs, licking his lips and continuing to avoid eye contact. I cross my arms at his chilly attitude. A realization comes over me at the slight scowl on his face.

“Are you… jealous?” I ask with a small smile.

“No, just… have fun with your friend.” He scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks away from me and down the street. I can see his jaw tense as he grits his teeth.

“Wow….” I trail off with a breezy laugh. I step closer, biting my bottom lip. “You look pretty green for red being your team’s color.” I set my hands on his hips, wrapping my arms around his back. I secure myself to him tightly, resting my chin on his chest so I’m looking up at his face. “Babe, look at me.” I soften my voice so he knows I’m done teasing. He licks his lips exasperatedly, then turns his sour, scrunched face to me. I raise my eyebrows, signaling I’m waiting.

“Fuck yeah I’m jealous.” He finally scoffs out. At least he wraps his hands around me, pushing me tighter to him.

“Why?” I can’t even begin to fathom why he feels that way. He’s the sweetest, handsomest, dreamiest man I have ever laid eyes on.

“I feel like he knows you better than me. And I hate that.” I snort, leaning forward to press my forehead to his chest. Nico silently watches me when I pull back.

“Every one of those jokes and stories are from before you.” I pause, waiting for him to soften. When he doesn’t, I continue. “He knows nothing about me anymore. You’re my life now. Not high school football games and Applebee’s late night happy hour.”

“But Miami?” He rolls his eyes.

“I won’t go. It’s obviously bothering you, so it’s not worth it. You’re my priority.”

We stare at each other until Nico finally sighs, looking away at the busy street behind me. I get closer, onto my tip toes, then tenderly pressing my lips on his throat. People pass around us, the world continuing on as we hold each other. I work my mouth up to the nook of his shoulder and neck. I open my mouth a little more, sucking his skin into my mouth. His shoulders relax, head meeting mine as his hands grip my back tighter. I pull away just before I mark him, pressing my nose to the wet spot. I run my hand across his shoulder to the back of his neck and cradle his head. A heavy exhale from him ends our hug.

“Okay.”

“Will you come back with me?”

“No, but you should stay. For real. Spend time with him… then come home to me.” His eyes darken with hunger as he brushes my hair behind my ear, holding my cheek. I watch as he closes his eyes, then leans down to capture our lips together. This is the kiss I needed from him earlier. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the plumped skin. I’m intoxicated when we pull apart. I stare at the lapels of his jacket.

“Maybe… I wanna come home now.” He smirks at me as I pull my phone out and text Connor a quick lie. “I’m suddenly soooo sick.” Nico leans his head back to laugh towards the sky.

“Let’s go needy girl.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #hockey writing #my writing #nhl fan fiction #new jersey devils

246 notes · View notes

insomniac-dot-ink · 1 year

Text

Stories for the Salt

(Genre: Spooky campfire story urban fantasy, wlw background romance)

Summary: A daughter is visiting her mother to help pack up her house and move her out of the mountains. Instead, she encounters a bedraggled hiker that appeared from the woods.

PART 1

Casper had heard two things since she arrived at her mom’s house: "Don’t touch that." And "Fresh air is good for you." Emphasis on the good like Casper had yet to fully grasp the concept. Casper, however, was discovering a limit for how many times you could stand on top of a mountain and contemplate the meaning of life. Then again, maybe that's what is “wrong with city people.” City people were the third topic Casper was hearing all about since her arrival.

She sat on the counter, collecting plates from the top shelf of the cupboard, valiantly ignoring the eyes boring into the back of her head. Their cat, Cassie, was unhappily somewhere else and no help whatsoever--sibling solidarity a lost cause.

Her mom cleared her throat. “I love you so much, honey bee. And I am so proud of you.”

Casper groaned at the ceiling. Where was that cat?

“But,” her mom punctuated the word like an airsoft gun release. “I have decided to cancel the movers.” “The movers aren’t canceled, mom.” Casper had checked this morning.

Her mom sat at the dining room table with one foot elevated. Pillows and ice packs cushioned the sides of a gauze-strangled ankle. Casper’s mother crossed her thin arms over her chest. One set of crutches leaned against the table next to her and her other foot was shoved into a muddy boot.

Casper desperately wanted to pack the woman’s hiking boots first, but forced herself to finish with the delicates. She wrapped a plate without looking up, her mom’s eyes weighing her down like cement.

“I’m sure the movers haven’t started up the mountain yet,” she enunciated each word. “Three more weeks, honey bee. The doctor said only three more weeks–that will go by in a blink of an eye.”

Casper groaned again. Is this what dad had felt like?

She plastered on a smile. “The doctor said some distractions might help too. You know, there’s this great little Greek restaurant that opened up near me. I know how you like Greek food.”

Her mom snorted. “Better than Angelo’s? Have you met my neighbor Angelo? He’s from Greece originally and his wife is from Belgium. Lovely woman and you wouldn’t even notice the false eye. They invite me over some nights in the summer, it’s a summer home and they check in on me now and again . . .”

Ah, Casper noted her mom was returning to her other favorite topic: daughter, there are neighbors. Stop worrying. Casper also wished she could stop worrying.

She finished wrapping the last of the plates and faced her mom.

“Do Angelo or Martine have medical degrees? Mom, we’ve talked about this. This whole mountain is nearly empty. There isn’t a hospital for forty minutes. People die alone out in the woods like this.”

“Only if they’re dumb. Do I look dumb to you?” Her mom barked, utilizing one of her well-worn Mom Jokes: “Okay, don’t answer that. The point is, I’ve been getting along out here for longer than most ‘solo travelers’ have been alive.” “And even well-equipped and intelligent people make mistakes. When alone. In the woods.” She gestured to her mom’s ankle swollen up to a grapefruit.

“I could just as easily take a fall in the city.” She waved Capser off. “What are we supposed to be so scared of?”

“Bad Cell service.”

“Gloria got taken for all she was worth by a phone scammer just last year. They’re targeting old bags like me, safer to be away from all that.”

“No wi-fi!”

Her mom nodded sagely. “Safer.”

Casper rolled her eyes and started listing, “a fall off the mountain. Stalked by mountain lions. Gas leak. Contaminated water–”

“Honeybee, you must think I’m dumb.”

“Bears!” She threw her hands up. “Eaten by bears!”

Her mom tightened her arms over her chest and made a guttural noise in the back of her throat. “Better than being taken out by serial killers in the city. Or eaten by them! I’d rather be eaten by bears. At least you know what they are thinking. Bear spray works a lot better than pepper spray anyway. Do you know, most attackers use the stuff back on the woman?” Her mom clicked her tongue. “Bears don’t have thumbs.”

Casper collapsed back against the cabinet. She grumbled under her breath like she was a surly teen again, “Not yet they don’t.”

“You know something about bears I don’t, missy?” Her mom raised one eyebrow. She took a deep breath. Casper was in for it. The gusto entered her tone. “You know, last year I saw a mother and two cubs. Right by the Hand Bone's trail. And I said to myself, Isla, you're only going to see this once in a lifetime. Once! You better stay right there. I didn't move a single muscle.

I wouldn’t take the bear spray out for the life of me either. She knew–that momma knew–I had my own two cubs of my own and nothing less.” The chair creaked as her mom sat up straight in it, getting into her primary story-mode. “And you know what?”

Her mom gestured. One of the ice packs dropped to the floor. Casper jumped down from the counter. She grumbled, “You saw them again the next week.”

“Once in a lifetime I told myself, only once, but what do you know, that exact mother and her cubs were crossing Jay Road the next week. I was in my car this time, much safer, but I must’ve stayed parked there for thirty minutes.”

Casper gentled her voice. “You have lived a magical life out here, mom.” And now it’s come to an end.

“No where else like it!”

Casper picked up the ice pack and tucked it against the bandages. Her mom’s ankle was still the size of a small melon and she winced when Casper adjusted the position.

Mugs and cups next. Shoes and winter coats and sweaters after that.

“It might do you some good to spend some time out here . . .” Her mom commented, probably noting the sheer number of wallowing noises Casper had been making.

Casper tilted her head all the way back and stared at the ceiling. She gathered her strength. “There’s a huge community garden right next door to me. You’ll love it. . .” Her mom gave her plaintive look and Casper mirrored it. “I don’t want to be the bad guy. You know I’d move up here if I could– or get Joey to.”

Her mom patted Casper on the sniffed and sniffed. “Would you?”

“The movers are coming in the morning.” Casper finished lamely. Her mom took her hand back.

“You both think you know so much more about what’s good for me,” the sour-ness leached through her mother’s words–like they had been a lot lately. Less poetry readings like from Casper’s childhood or bird identification out in the yard.

“And what happens if you get in trouble and I can’t get up here in time?” Casper said quietly, heart squeezing. We could read poetry in Denver, she wanted to say. I could find you birds in the rafters.

But Casper wasn't 9 anymore.

Her mother snorted. “You mean if you can't get up here in time to wrap my plates or hand me two ibuprofen . . . The city? Really? You don’t have to go back either. There’s nowhere like this in the world, honeybee.” Her eyebrows arched. “You might even meet someone.”

Casper pushed to her feet. “It’s getting dark. I’ll get the cat in.”

“There are plenty of people out here! I’ve been asking around for. Hen, my neighbor with the chickens of all things, has a granddaughter like that." Her eyes sparkled, she laughed. "Gay I mean. Oh, I used to have trouble in polite company, but age cures all foolishness. Gay, lesbian, is your daughter a homosexual? My neighbors, the Dutch woman and the Greek, looked like they’d seen a ghoul when I asked, but they admitted it’s easier to be plane once you’ve started–”

“Love you mom!” Casper called over her shoulder. “Super proud of you. Going to text the movers now.”

She heard her mom groan in the background.

---------------->

PART 2

When Casper was younger, age seemed to stretch out into infinity. When you are ten there is no such thing as twenty-five and when you’re twenty-five thirty feels like an entirely different planet. You never really expect when your mom gets old enough to hurt and you have to help her to the toilet in the middle of the night. Thirty-two snuck up on Casper.

She ran a hand through her hair, squinting out over the mountains. The peaks were covered in scraggly pine trees and washed-out summer skies. More than a mile high and the air was thin and chilled in her lungs. The sun dipped behind the far mountains and the gorge lit up in oranges and pinks. Dipping and rising, the mountains rolled like ocean waves. Clouds like tides nestled between the teeth of the land, glowing a sun-dipped rose color.

Has anyone else ever felt so miserable staring at something so beautiful? Casper sighed.

Maybe her 16-year-old self had been right. There is something wrong with you. Casper chuckled at the thought. At least she never had to be 16 again.

One or two houses dotted the mountain, but mostly there was nothing but sky and trees clinging to the side of slopes. Pockets of real estate had managed to establish summer homes and outdoorsy Airbnbs, but they were far between. Jay Road wasn’t even called Jay Town after all these years. The neighbors her mom prattled on about lived a mile apart each and some of the cabins didn’t even have running water, just outhouses and wood stoves. Which was fine. It was all fine.

But she was Casper’s mom. Brilliant and impractical. Affectionate and painfully honest. Chatty and yet obsessed with being alone. She was her mom and Casper had to do something about the distance to the hospital. Had to do something about the number of accidents piling up. Had to do something about the isolation.

Casper had unfortunately inherited her dad’s careful nature instead the ability to jump off cliffs into waterfalls or hitchhike across countrysides.

A fire lit in Casper’s belly. Her brother said he’d be back when he could. Australia didn’t have great cell service. Rescheduling flights was complicated. Mom would be fine, she was tough. It was only a few more months.

Casper started walking in the opposite direction of the gorge. She had always been proud to be called “mature for her age” and puffed up when her brother was scolded, told to act “more like your sister.” But it turned out nine-year-old maturity wasn’t something you got dividends on. Figured.

Casper trudged down their long driveway. Gravel skidded with each step and Casper called loudly, “Cassie!” The sound of her voice echoed from somewhere. “Here kitty, kitty!”

For all her mom’s monologuing about the virtue of living by herself, it had not escaped Casper’s notice that she named her cat Cassie. Granted, the cat’s full name was Cassiopeia and her last two cats were Orion and Ursa Major.

“Cassiopeia!” Casper was already going hoarse from yelling. She walked all the way to the road. It was all gravel and dirt and potholes, and the only details of humanity were janky mailboxes lined up in a row. Their wooden posts decaying and metal sagging inward.

A hush settled over the twilight and Casper found herself wandering aimlessly. Tiny stars popped out. She wound all the way toward the cowpaths through the woods–makeshift trails that were more like dusty grooves through the pine needles. They were called Desire Paths for those with a romantic bent.

“Cassiopeia! Cas! Here kitty.”

The pine trees had a malnourished look, thin and brittle, spread far apart from one another like estranged cousins. There wasn’t enough air or water this high up for green grass or big shrubbery and she could see her house through the trunks.

Casper kicked a stray pinecone and gave herself a little lecture: Breathe in the summer pine air. Listen to the birds. Feel the crunch of needles under your boots. Be present.

It was no use, of course, whatever she was supposed to feel out here, Casper didn’t feel it. Plus, there were mugs to wrap and dinner to cook and mom’s impossible house to finish packing up.

A soft meow cane from up ahead.

“There you are!” she called. A small black cat trotted through the trees. Casper knelt down and Cassiopeioa purred loud enough to wake the dead. The cat had a narrow elfin face and impossibly thick whiskers like an old man’s wiry beard. She was a small thing, but could generate a truly astounding loud rumble– a tiny motor trying to terraform the dusty landscape.

“Don’t tell the others,” Casper whispered. “But I always knew you were the smartest.”

Her mom trained all of her cats to come in by dark, but Cassiopioa was the only one that came when you called by name. Her rumble vibrated through Casper’s palm and there was a temptation to just . . . stay there. She could squat in the woods until her heart stopped squeezing and the world stopped spinning.

She scratched the cat behind her ears. “Sorry, bud. The cat carrier won’t be any fun but I promise it’ll be short.” Casper shook her head “Well. Let’s get today over with.” She stood. “Come on, sweetie.”

The cat trotted at Casper’s heel. She was a slow walker and would stop to sniff the ground or pretend she wasn’t following you around at all. Casper wasn’t in a hurry, though.

Twilight left ribbons of pink and purple through the sky and Casper forced herself to think about art and love and buying more plants for her apartment. She tried to listen to the music of nature or whatever it was. Casper stopped. Her skin prickled, the forest was quiet. Birdless. The cat let out a low growl and Casper jerked around.

A hiker stood behind her. The woman was pale and bedraggled and staring straight ahead. One of the hiker’s hands was outstretched behind Casper’s neck, fingers hooker, poised behind her collar.

Casper let out a muffled sound and jumped back, the cat scrambling out of the way behind her.

The hiker’s lips were cracked to the point of bleeding, the skin around her mouth chapped and red all the way to her cheek bones. Her eyes were bloodshot. A red windbreaker clung to her in damp splotches. An enormous pack hung off her shoulders, depleted and torn in parts. She was breathing hard.

The woman’s knees buckled inward. She fell to her knees.

The hiker rasped, “help me.”

---------------->

PART 3

Casper staggered, sweat beading on her brow. The hiker was limp against her side—head lulled onto Casper’s shoulder and eyes half-lidded and empty. Holding most of her weight, Casper was lucky the woman was light as a large pile of sticks.

Gravel crunched under Casper’s shoes and her mother’s robin-egg-blue house drew near. The cat was lashing her tail back and forth at the back door, waiting, ears pressed to her skull.

Casper side-eyed the hiker, dragging her to the door. She wet her lips. “How long have you been out here?” she asked in soft tones, gentled into a nursery-rhyme rhythm. “Do you know where you are?”

The woman’s eyes remained half-open and unseeing. Her lips were parted and cracked to bleeding. Casper winced.

“I’ll get you some water the moment we get in,” she hissed, and the woman closed her eyes.

They crossed the lawn and the hiker managed to prop herself up as Casper ran to get the door open. The cat darted into the house the moment the door was cracked, and Casper called through the hallways.

“Mom!” Casper was suddenly glad she had her mother. “Can you get the first aid kit?”

“What’s that?” Thumping sounds answered and soft “ow.”

Brine filled her nose. Casper swung around and the woman was standing behind her, eyes bloodshot and wide. “Um,” Casper flattened herself to the wall, mind racing. “Do you want to wait outside actually?”

The woman swallowed several times and pointed to her mouth.

“Right, right, right.”

Her mom rounded the corner, crutches clattering against the hardwood floor, expression pinched.

“Who is that?”

“Mom! Stay with, uh, her. I’ll be right back.”

They got the hiker into the house despite Casper’s worry flaring like a rash. She supposed there was no point in talking about the importance of having neighbors if she refused to be neighborly. Her mom shot off questions and then petered off when the woman coughed into her fist, whole chest shaking.

“Where did she come from?” Her voice shook and Casper paused. Isla, of all things, was not known for being fearful.

“I don’t know. I picked her up in the woods.”

The hiker leaned against the doorframe, eyes fluttering shut and muttering strings of hoarse words. Casper darted to the kitchen. The nearest hospital was a long way away. She filled up an enormous glass of water, remembering to add some electrolytes.

“Good lord is that woman alright?” her mother muttered. She stood in the hallway, eyeing the stranger.

Casper glanced between them, her mom’s crutches, the woman’s ragged form. The timing couldn’t be worse. It was just Casper.

“Mom, I may need to borrow the car–”

“Who is that?” Her mom repeated, staring.

“She’s not well. I don’t think ambulances come up this way–”

“They don’t. Casper! Who is this?”

Casper strode into the living room, mimicking how she imagined the ER doctors held themselves upright. Grabbing the couch cushions from the unwrapped furniture, she lined them up on the floor. She tuned-out her mom’s questions and guided the woman across the room.

“Here, ma’am, please lie down.” The woman stammered something back and Casper held her breath. The hiker smelled overwhelmingly of stale sweat. Casper ignored how her own shirt was damp from holding her up and eased her down on the makeshift mat.

The woman pointed at her mouth again and Casper held up the glass, tipping her chin up. “Just a small sip.”

Water dribbled out of the side of hiker’s mouth, running down her cheek. She closed her eyes in the next second and collapsed back. Casper exhaled. Well. Shit.

An image flashed in her mind’s eyes. The woman, standing behind her, hand outstretched, fingers hooked near Casper’s neck and a shine in her eyes. Casper shook her head as to dislodge the thought. She worked in a hospital, even if it was just administration. She knew better than to expect shock to look the same on everyone.

Her mother cleared her throat. “So. Where in the woods?”

“Nearby. She was looking for help.”

Casper stood, knees cracked and back straining. Food would probably help. More water.

“She must’ve gotten lost from one of the trails.” Casper silently urged her mom to not mention solo hikers being “dumb.” She glanced between them. “Or from that big gorge one.”

Her mom pursed her lips, brow furrowing. She looked coolly over Casper’s shoulder. “Dear, which trail were you on? Do you remember?” Casper whipped around and the woman’s eyes were open wide. “What happened to your gear?”

The hiker shook her head, shaking. Casper knelt without thinking and handed over the water. “Here. A little more.”

The woman grabbed the glass in both hands. She tilted her head back and drank like a racehorse, glugging and noisy. Water spilled down her front and Casper politely looked away, some sense of propriety surfacing.

Casper willed her brain to work. Twilight was descending and the roads were awful to drive on at night—she’d have to do something quick.

“Mom, let’s go talk in the other room.” She stood, whispering, “is the truck filled up?”

“The truck?” Her mom frowned. “This young lady should get to decide whether she wants to be forced off the mountain.”

Casper rubbed her temple. “What?”

“She survived this long. Some people don’t like quitting halfway through.”

Casper narrowed her eyes to slits. She couldn’t be serious.

“No!” The hiker spit-up water down her front. “I can’t go back. Look, it’s dark.”

They studied her. The woman’s entire front was wet, straight black hair plastered to her cheeks and chest heaving.

“Easy now,” her mom put out a hand. “We won’t force you. I understand these parts. We can take you wherever your party is or down the road to the sheriff–”

The woman shook her head vigorously. Her pupils seemed to pulse, and she spoke in rapid gulps, “Not back. Not down that way. They’ll come from there.”

“Okay.” Casper put her hands up like calming a spooked animal. “We don’t have to go anywhere just yet. You can rest here, you’ll be safe.”

“No!” The hiker gnashed her teeth and the alertness returned to her gaze. She glanced around, faltering upright and falling back down again. “Where are we?”

“You’re near Hand Bone’s peak. Off the main road,” her mother said slowly.

“Do you know how you got here?” Casper added at the same moment. This might be a worse case than she thought.

“How late is it?” the woman’s chest started rising and falling rapidly. “How big is the moon . . .?”

Casper and her mom shared a look. Her mom recovered first.

“Want some more water, dear?”

The woman pressed her palms to the floor and lifted herself up in a painful lurch. Casper put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not well,” she murmured. The woman’s shoulder was chilled and shaking under her touch. “Can I get some more water? A blanket?” Casper ran through her mental list: blanket, first aid kit, maybe some bread, a call down the mountain.

Then packing the house. Somehow.

Her mother gasped and Casper wanted to shout, “what now?!” The woman had wrenched the sleeve of her jacket up. Her arm was covered in purpling bruises.

“Casper!”

“I’m on it.” Casper fumbled for the first aid kit her mom dragged out. The hiker went very still.

“It’s quiet,” she said, eyes roving over the room and body taut. Casper remembered the hand behind her collar. “Where is your cat?”

Shock looks different on everyone.

Casper held herself motionless, mirroring the young woman. “What’s your name?”

The hiker’s eyes narrowed. She growled, “Who are you? Whose house is this?”

“Easy now,” her mom repeated. “It’s mine. You’re not feeling very well right now. Would you like some aspirin? We’re going to call someone to help you feel better.”

The woman's forehead was slick with sweat. She itched at her arm and Casper forced down bile. The odd bruises covered her forearm like an abstract painting, purples and yellows molting together.

Casper tore her eyes away and took deep even breaths. The moon was enormous through the window, a perfect yellow disc through the trees.

The hiker’s breath came in rapid bursts and Casper forced herself to grab her shoulder again and ease back down.

“My name is Casper Lake. Do you know what year it is?” Casper asked clumsily. “Do you know your name?”

“My name is Maya,” she said through gritted teeth, lips bleeding sluggishly. “And I am trying to get out of here.”

“We’ll try and help y—”

Maya jerked forward to her hands and knees all at once. Casper put a hand on her back and then recoiled, falling to the floor and paling. Clear water poured from the woman’s open mouth as she puked an endless stream on the floor.

---------------->

#campfire story #urban fantasy #short story #spilled ink #ghost story #part 1 #stories for the salt #long post cw

148 notes · View notes

judes-hoe · 8 months

Note

Can I request a Trent Alexander Arnold x reader gf! Trent goes to Milano fashion week & surprises his gf with a ticket for her since her birthday is coming up soon (inspo is bc my birthday is Wednesdays lolz). This trip is big for them since they’re not super public since she’s just a uni girl but one things for sure is that they’re in love & Trent want to takes the next step with her & asks her to move in with him.

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY BABY🎊

Surprise ~ TAA66

Warnings ~ none just fluff

A/N ~ this is super cute and I wrote this at 12am so bear with me, also didn’t have the energy to write about the actual show or whatever you want to call it.☹️☹️ sorry.

~~~~~~~~

Your we’re currently on your way to your boyfriends house, he had said he wanted to send the day with you before he leaves for Milan in a couple days. He and his brother Marcel going together.

You got to his house, locking your car and walking up to the door. You walk in taking your shoes and coat off. “Baby I’m here” you shout out into the house. “Hey baby” he says walking over to you in grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt. “Missed you” he said hugging you. “Missed you too baby” you said rubbing his back up and down. “Trent man I know you miss you girlfriend mate but we’re playing the game” his brother Marcel shouted from the living room. Trent rolls his eyes at you. “Marcel shut up, just mad you don’t have a girlfriend” he said walking with you back to the living room. “Hi Marcel” you said with a little wave. “Hi y/n” he said with a nod.

You sat next to Trent cuddled into his side watching him and Marcel playing the game and scrolling on your phone. “Alright im gonna go take a shower and we can play after if you want” marcel said setting the controller down. “Yeah sure” Trent said setting his down as well. Marcel walked up the stairs and to the guest room.

“Okay I’m sorry baby my attention is all on you” Trent said kissing your head and watching your phone. “I’m gonna miss you while you’re in Milan” you said closing your phone and looking up at him. “I’m about that” he said with a look. “What did you do trent” you asked knowing he did something. “I got an extra ticket if you want to come, I know your birthday is coming up and I want it to be a surprise/birthday present, and I know we haven’t gone public but we can make up something if rumors start, I just want you to come with me, even if you don’t go to the sho-“ he started rambling. “Trent of course I’ll go with you, plus I’ve been meaning to tell you I’ve wanted to go public” you said with a smile.

“Perfect, I’m glad you agreed to come with me, so when you go home later pack clothes and come back tomorrow and you can spend the night so we can leave in the morning” he said. “Sounds perfect baby, can’t wait to see you in all these different outfits” you said with a smile. “I forgot to ask how uni has been, how’d you do on your exams” he asked as he softly ran his hand up and down your arm. “I passed all my exams, I thought I was gonna fail at least one but I didn’t” you said with a smile. “My smart girl” he said giving you a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

Trent, you, and Marcel just arrived in Milan. Currently heading to your hotel you’d be staying at for the next couple days. “I’ve always wanted to visit Milan, so beautiful” you said looking out the car window. “Beautiful like you” Trent said kissing the side of your head. “Gross” Marcel said with a fake gag. Leading Trent to smack his arm lightly.

You and trent signed into the hotel while Marcel went out to adventure. You and Trent go up to your room, placing your bags on the floor and throwing Marcels on his bed. You plop yours and Trent’s bed, tired from the jet lag. “Can we take a quick nap” you asked Trent, he looks at the time and sees that you both don’t anywhere for a while. He quickly texts Marcel saying what room number were in and that you and him are taking a nap.

“Before we do though I have a question” he said laying next to you. “What is it” you asked. “Will you move in with me, we’ve been dating a little over a year, it’s your last year at uni, and the apartment you have is just enough for you, and I’m ready for this next step” he said slightly nervous. “Of course I’ll move in with you Trent, I’d be the best thing” you said kissing his forehead,then his nose, then his lips. “Now let’s take that nap” he said closing his eyes cuddling closer. “This is the best birthday present ever by the way” you say before also drifting off to sleep.

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

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold smau #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent aa #trent alexander imagines #judes-hoe😚

56 notes · View notes

minimomoe · 5 months

Text

Love Bites pt. 6

There's nothing you hate more than the hospital.

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

Preview: Toji’s answer was another wave of tears from you. He hates to hear you cry so hard, and he hates that he’s so far away from you...

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

Chapter Six: Warm Water

“I spent Thanksgiving with somebody who wasn’t Rina this time around. I’m sure you guessed it, so yes, it was with Toji and his family,” you smile. “They have such different personalities but I can tell they really care for each other. I almost started crying in the middle of it.”

You recount the last couple of weeks to Ezra while wiping him down with a warm towel. You know that the nurses do the same but you want to do something for him as well. You gently lay him back into the bed and dip the towel into the bowl of water beside you. “I guess you can say that we’re dating now. Well not that I guess, Toji said that. Actually, he asked to be together and I agreed. He wouldn’t force anything on me,” you explain to him. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t been in a relationship in so long but everything is so exciting. He still visits the shop when he can, but now I spend the weekends with him and his son.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what you admitted to your brother. “Before you get upset, Megumi’s a real sweet kid. And there’s no ex wife or girlfriend that I’m dealing with. I think the mom may have passed away, but I will wait for them to tell me when they’re ready. I think you’d like Megumi. He loves animals. I told him that you were a vet and he had so many questions that only you could answer,” you smile apologetically. “He has a little journal of different animals and their traits, then he gives those animals to different people in his life. Toji is a wolf. Yuji is a tiger. That’s Megumi’s best friend who he loves very much, even if he won’t admit it. Nobara is a fox. That’s his other best friend. Gojo’s a peacock, Nanami is a great white shark, Sukuna’s a bear, and Choso’s a jellyfish. You’ll know who I’m talking about when you wake up.”

You push a thick curl out of Ezra’s face. “I should give you a haircut,” you mutter. You clutch your hand in a fist next to his head. “It’s not that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You know that I’m a hopeless romantic. I fell in love too many times to count,” you chuckle to yourself. You pull your hand back into your lap and sigh. “But with him I feel… I feel safe. I realize that before I was always waiting for the ball to drop, for another horrific incident to blindside me, but I haven’t felt that impending doom hanging over my head in a while.” You release a shuddering breath and blink up at the fluorescent lights to avoid crying.

“I’m starting to clean up their house. I found mom’s cookbooks, if you can even call them that. You know she had that doctor handwriting that’s impossible to read. I also know that she never really measured anything, so all those recipes are her estimating,” you laugh softly. “I’m thinking about making those cardamon lumps she used to make for us during the holidays for Toji. I also have no idea what to get him for Christmas. Oh, speaking of getting things, I got you another book!” You dig in your bag to retrieve the new book.

You give a small smile. “It’s called Before the Coffee Gets Cold. It’s a book about time traveling, surprisingly. I won’t spoil it too much, but I would love to travel back to talk to mom and dad again, even if it won’t change anything. They even have an old cafe that they always went to that could work like the book.”

Before you could say another word a monitor above Ezra’s head started to beep rapidly. You look at it with concern, unsure of what the machine was reading. Within seconds the other monitors screech as well. You watch in horror while red flashes on all of the screens. Ezra’s expression hasn’t changed, but you rush out of the room, screaming for a nurse or anybody to come help. A few orderlies hear your distress, alerting nearby nurses that run to your location. They all swarm to Ezra’s side, checking his vitals and yelling codes at each other. You watch helplessly behind them. Another orderly tries to pull you away from the scene but you stood stock still.

“Ma’am, you need to leave the room now.”

“Will he be okay? What’s going on?”

“He’s getting the best treatment possible, but please, you can’t stay here.”

“What’s wrong with him? What are they saying?”

“Ma’am please,” the orderly gives you a pained look.

Tears swim in your eyes when you look back onto the bed. A swirl of green, blue and white mix together when the tears get heavy enough. You allow yourself to be pulled away from the room as ordered, leaving the nurses and now doctor to treat your brother. You are led to the waiting room by yourself. The orderly offers to get water but you wave her away. You pace back and forth in the small space, your mind running wild with all the worst possibilities. In haste you trip over your own feet, stumbling into a chair at the last second to avoid hurting yourself, but everything hurts. Your heart clenches, your stomach is churning, your breaths are shallow. With shaky hands you grab your phone, pressing the first contact on your call log. With two rings the line picks up, and you're greeted with Toji’s deep voice.

“Hey baby, how are you?”

You can’t speak. The grief is too much, an invisible hand that constricts your throat so that only a choked sob falls from your lips. You want to explain what’s happening but fail again. Toji starts to panic on the other line, trying to get information out from you but the only thing he can hear is you weeping.

“Send me your location. Can you hear me? Just let me know where you are, I’ll come to you.”

“I’m at the hospital,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Is it your brother? You won’t be alone.”

Toji’s answer was another wave of tears from you. He hates to hear you cry so hard, and he hates that he’s so far away from you. He looks at Nanami, who already saw his demeanor change and waves him away.

“I got it from here,” the blond man says. Toji gives him an appreciative nod, leaving him with the bloody men they cornered. Nanami already paid him no mind, getting down to business without him.

Toji looks down at the mess on the floor and realizes he has blood on his shoes. He couldn’t scare you any more with that. He doesn’t want to scare you at all. Your last words echo in his head before he hung up, about how you didn’t want to be alone. He leaves Nanami without saying another word.

Back at the hospital you wait in the empty waiting room. Despite you declining it the first time, a styrofoam cup of water sits beside you brought by the orderly. You flick it every so often, watching the ripples bounce, cross, and settle on the sides. You’ve calmed down from your call to Toji. Now there’s a cold, mucky feeling sitting heavy on your chest. You empty the contents within the cup in one gulp, trying to wash it down, but the room temperature water felt like slime going down your throat.

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

#minimoe #momowritings #x black reader #jjk #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #bakery au #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk nanami #nanami kento

28 notes · View notes

bountyhaunter · 2 months

Text

TIMING: Current LOCATION: A grocery store parking lot / The Keep PARTIES: Mack @realmackross and Daiyu @bountyhaunter SUMMARY: There's a hit out on Mack. Daiyu is the one to capture her. CONTENT WARNINGS: Head trauma ACCOMPANIED LISTENING: Trouble - Cage the Elephant

Mackenzie had hated the feeling of being watched. It was one of her biggest fears, and unfortunately, being dead had only made that worse. Now, people had even more reasons to watch and follow her; especially if they knew what she was…or what she had done. So when Jade had slipped up on her, it had nearly jump-started her heart back to beating again. But that little threat had been taken care of, and that looming feeling of watching eyes had disappeared allowing her to breathe a little easier. Though she was pretty sure the limp she had from her regrown leg was going to be around for a while.

“Trouble on my left; trouble on my right. I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life.” Mack sang out loud as she walked back to her car from running to the grocery store to grab a few things she had decided to pick up on her way home from her shift at Dance Macabre. The parking lot was empty, except for the lone cashier’s car.

As she continued to sing, she popped open the hatchback of the Mini Cooper to put her groceries in, but suddenly stopped singing when she realized she had forgotten something that she had needed, “Crap. Looks like I’m headed back inside, Midnight. I’ll be back out in a minute, and we can blast Cage the Elephants on the way home.” Sidenote: The author would like to mention that Mack was indeed talking to her car.

Shutting the back, she rounded the corner of the small car headed back towards the entrance of the store. Thank goodness for stores that stayed open 24 hours in Wicked’s Rest.

—

Mack Ross had moved up the priority list of the Good Neighbors. Mack fucking Ross. Mack Ross, whom Daiyu had seen in plenty of movies and TV shows, who had disappeared after the death of her fiance, who apparently liked gorging on brains and being very messy and merciless about it. Mack Ross! Who went on killing sprees!

Miracles and strange phenomenon were not out of this world just yet. Maybe next week, they’d be asking her to take out Robert Pattinson because he ironically was a werewolf in reality. (She really hoped not. She’d hate to do that to him.)

Multiple of the hunters in the Good Neighbors inner circle had been assigned to the task. Not only was Ross an acute risk (as she’d been reported to have recently killed again), but also a high-profile supernatural. Daiyu was also put to the task and she took to it with mixed feelings, like she did with all things in her new circle of hunters. She wasn’t sure about the organization’s goodness any more, after all. Keeping a town safe was one thing, but doing so by locking shifting supernatural away was not sitting right with her. Especially not whenever she visited the Keep.

She could abandon post, of course. She could have told Winnifred to go fuck her crochety self and all the others to choke on a bit of popcorn. But she hadn’t, as she was waiting in the wings along with Emilio and whatever allies they could scrounge up. So she was tracking Mack Ross. If she was going to land in the Neighbor’s clutches anyway (and she would, as she had found the organization pretty effective at what they did), then it might be for the best if she was the one to do it.

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t a bit starstruck, even if all Mack Ross was going was groceries. (Celebrities! They’re just like us!) She was even singing while loading them away, which would be grating in any individual but was something Daiyu suddenly appreciated. What she didn’t appreciate was the blonde moving away from her car. She’d hoped to tail her to what was to hopefully be home, but she could make do with a parking lot. She got out of her car, snatching her club from the passenger seat. It was a weapon meant for blunt force, enforced with studs. She followed Mack as she crossed the lot to the store and had half a mind to go in with her and get a snack (and autograph), but she had gotten distracted enough. And so Daiyu walked quietly but with a pace that ensured she’d catch up with her before she reached the lights of the store.

—

Mackenzie’s hearing was shit. Her eyes were shit. And so to have someone tailing behind her, yet again, and her not realize it was no surprise, especially since it seemed like everything was back to normal in her life. So, like the unsuspecting little dipshit that she was, the actress continued forward as she belted lyrics out into the warm night air, “Trouble on my left; trouble on my right. I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life! My sweet love, won't you pull me through? Everywhere I look, I catch a glimpse of you. I said it was love and I did it for life. I didn't do it for youuuuu!!!”

God, if only her music career had panned out before all of this bullshit zombie stuff had happened, but in the moment, her need to sing out was only fueling the flames to want to go home and write some more songs. The journal she had was starting to get full, and with that reminder, she figured she might as well pickout a notebook while she was in here to go with the thing she had forgotten.

As Mack continued to sing, and move towards the door, she caught sight of something laying on the ground, but she couldn’t quite tell what it was, and with all the time in the world at the 24 hour grocery store, she definitely had time to pick it up. So, without much thought and the fact that someone had in-deed been sneaking up behind her, the zombie leaned over to grab it, wincing slightly at the tightness in her leg, where Jade had severed it at her thigh, “Fucking Jade. This regrown foot is going so far up your ass the next time I see you…”

—

Daiyu preferred stalking her prey in woods. It seemed more natural that way, more sensible. It felt less like she was chasing creatures that were also human when surrounded by nothing but pure nature — it felt more like the kind of hunt people did in fairy tales and movies, rather than stalking someone in a parking lot like a … well, stalker. But Daiyu made do. Daiyu didn’t think too deeply about these things, because to make these kinds of distinctions was to think too far and deep about her role in this world, and that was something she’d prefer not to.

It was good that Mack was singing. She wasn’t too informed about zombies (except for those in The Last of Us and The Walking Dead, of course) and so wasn’t sure how good their hearing was, but it was a nice way for the famous actress-turned zombie to muffle the sounds of her not-stalker. Daiyu continued straining her short legs to catch up with the other all the while acutely aware of all their surroundings.

And then Mack Ross did something perfect. She bent over. Slowly and with a movement that suggested a level of strain. The timing was like a gift from heaven. (Note: Daiyu was a devout atheist.) She moved forward, swinging her club backwards and aiming it right at Mack Ross’ blond head like she was a ball on a baseball pitch. There was a wooshing sound in the air and she wasn’t as quiet now as she intended to knock the zombie out in one go.

—

Mack had managed to snag the piece of paper that she had spotted awkwardly with her bad leg sticking out at a weird angle, but before she could even straighten back up, she heard a whoosh next to her head just as something hard connected with her temple. With everything going dark really fast, the zombie fell to the ground and crumpled up into a blonde heap.

Everything was spinning when Mackenzie finally started to come too. But something had seriously felt off.

Moaning, the zombie blinked heavily as she tried to clear out the blurriness from her vision, “Wha…” Grunting, she looked around and her mind easily went back to the day Elora had found her after her rampage through town, “Elora…” The name was a weak whisper as she continued to try and find her bearings, but when she realized the redhead wasn’t anywhere to be found, Mackenzie started to panic.

“W-Where am I? Why…why are you doing this?” A dark ooze ran from the side of her head, and she whimpered in pain as her eyes scanned the small cell she had found herself in. All she had wanted was answers, but there currently weren’t any and the longer she went in silence with no return in the conversation, the more she could feel herself starting to grow angry.

—

Wood enforced with metal studs met skull and the blonde went down so easily that Daiyu wondered for a moment if a mistake had been made. She did not wait any moment longer, though, tucking the club underneath her armpit and picking the actress up, slinging her over her shoulder. These were crucial moments — she had to be quick, lest curious Resters started calling her out for carrying around an unconscious Mack Ross.

And so the famous zombie was deposited in the back of her truck and she drove as she often did — wildly and with abandon. Daiyu wasn’t sure how to go about zombie hunting, especially when it came to knocking them out. Killing them was doable (most things died when you chopped off their head), but kidnapping them? Another thing. She tried not to think about it too much, about how it might be kinder to kill her now rather than to lock her up — but maybe Mack Ross would not have to be locked up for too long. Plans were brewing.

She did her job, deposited Mack into one of the empty cages that whispered to all the supernatural fiends out there like a promise. It was hard to look at her now and think her a vicious killer, but Daiyu forced herself to think of the bodies that had been connected to the actress. (It would be — it would be kinder to kill her.) Her jaw was set as she waited for the actress to wake up. This was perhaps the ugliest part of the job and she cursed Winnifred for not being in, as she did such a good job at telling the prisoners what they were imprisoned for.

Mack Ross awoke and she felt uncomfortable standing there. “Hey — hi,” she said, plopping down criss-cross applesauce in front of the bars. The cell was fitted with some standard needs — a chair, a tap with running water and a sole bar of soap, a toilet. There was no bed, as the undead didn’t need sleep, but there was some flickering light and a bookshelf with tacky, yellowed romance novels and shiny self-improvement books. Mack was gifted a book that blasted a title in red: HOW TO EAT CLEAN AND STOP FEELING DIRTY. Maybe Winnifred thought it would make her stop eating brains. “Welcome to –” Nope. Where was Alistair? He was tall and menacing. Or Winnifred? She was convincing and somehow pretty welcoming. “You’re somewhere safe. Sorry about your head. Tranqs don’t work on …” She shrugged. “Well, you get it.”

Daiyu reached for her bag, pulling out a smaller, ziplock bag with a hellhound brain in it. She pushed it to the edge of the bars, then pulled her hand back. That wasn’t protocol. It had been pretty gross to get the brain out, in all truth, but it was done now. “Oh, right — why. You, um. Killed a bunch of civilians. It’s not safe. So, you know! Now you are somewhere safe.” For the humans. The humans of a town who had no certainty of a normal life. Daiyu tried to think of them as she tried not to ask Mack for her signature.

—

The cell didn’t offer much in the way of comfort and as Mackenzie’s vision cleared, she noticed the book with the red title screaming in her face. This was it. She was locked away in a cell never to see the light of day again. But if she was in a cell, did that mean they knew about Brody? Was she finally imprisoned for his murder? If so, if that was the reason, then she couldn’t really blame the people who had put her here, but an odd wave of relief seemed to come when she heard the explanation, and then it all made sense. The rampage on Wicked’s Rest. A legit reason for her being here at least, and not one that would make national headlines. At least she had hoped, considering this definitely didn’t look government official, and though she was angry, the anger had somewhat ceased knowing she had deserved to be locked away for the monster she had become.

“Right. Yeah. But I think you mean safe for the citizens of Wicked’s Rest right?” The anger had dissipated and turned into something of defeat as she lowered her head. Not paying much attention to the hellhound brain that lay at the edge of the bars. And when she did finally see it, all she could think was how it had solidified how much of a monster she really was. Mack immediately felt like a feral dog being locked in a pound fed only scraps until Death, himself, really came knocking.

Reluctantly reaching out towards the smaller brain, she pulled it through the bars and up to her mouth. Her head was throbbing from the bat she had taken to it, and she knew if she didn’t eat things would get a lot worse, so instead of waiting any longer, Mack stuck the soft matter into her mouth and began to chew, refusing to look at Daiyu.

—

The concept of safety was novel to Daiyu. It was spoken of often in hunter circles, though never as something they experienced themself, but rather something they were made to protect and defend. And though safety was probably a novel concept for the people of Wicked’s Rest as well, it was a thing worth defending. So Mackenzie Ross was right — this was for the safety of the citizens of Wicked’s Rest, of which Daiyu was now a protector. Or, at least, that was how it was supposed to be on paper. In practice, it was too complicated to think about.

She lifted her shoulders, “Yup, guess so.” It was hard to believe the other was a serial killer (or mass murderer – the distinction was always lost on her) but Daiyu knew very well how looks could deceive. “Killed quite a few of them. Citizens, I mean. Not cool.” Because if there was one of the golden hunter rules she followed, it was that she did not kill humans.

The entire scene in front of her was ridiculous — a famous actress behind bars and at her mercy, chewing on hellhound brain to sate her needs. It should feel awesome, this power that Daiyu held over the celebrity, but she felt rather icky about it all. “Anyway, um — you’re safe here, too. From other things, like the leg and slayers.” That was the whole catch, wasn’t it? The whole purpose of the Keep — to keep the dangerous supernatural away, but to not put them to the blade. She wasn’t sure if she’d feel better if she’d cut off Mack Ross’ head. Probably not, but such was the hunter’s life. Concepts like safety and feeling good were novelties. “Cool. You – wow, real weird. I totally saw you in movies and stuff before. Life can really take a turn, yeah?” Maybe it would for her too, one day.

—

Mackenzie swallowed the brain matter, and without looking up, decided to slide back into the shadows of the cell. She didn’t really want to look at Daiyu anymore or even hear what she had to say. She just wanted to be left alone. It was what was best considering she was either going to die here or spend eternity here, which she prayed didn’t happen if the brains eventually stopped coming.

Her back against the wall now, Mackenzie pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her head on them. With sad eyes, she kept them on the floor trying not to cry. She knew there was going to be quite a lot of time to think, but just like anybody in her situation, she was going to have to have her time to adjust and get as comfortable as she could, “I don’t really want to talk to you anymore. Thanks for the brain, I guess. Now, please just leave me alone.” It was all she could muster out before turning her body to face away from the hunter and lean the side of her head against the wall.

—

Maybe if she had been in a more petulant mood, she would have stayed around to talk Mack Ross’ ears off — just because she’d asked her to leave her alone. In any other situation, that was Daiyu’s M.O., to go against someone’s wishes when she felt rejected. But this was not any other situation. She’d just kidnapped a former A-list celebrity, put her in a medieval looking cell and offered her a bit of brain in the name of supposed goodness.

This goodness did not feel very good, though. The woman across from her was defeated, hiding her face from her, folded into herself. Though she was by all definitions a serial killer, there was no satisfaction to be found in seeing her behind bars. No glee found in the knowledge that she had succeeded in this all by herself, even though multiple members of the inner circle had been on Mack’s trail. Daiyu had won, but there was no victory be found here. There was nothing good about this. It was something, that was certain — it was a form of cruel justice, a way of safe-keeping the humans that might become the blonde’s meal, but it was not good.

She pushed herself to her feet. “Cool.” A filler word, used when things were far from cool. But what was she supposed to say? She came from a line of people who were good with words, who knew how to twist the proverbial knife into anyone — but in that, Daiyu had always fallen short. She could quip and snap and joke, but she could not manipulate. “See … you around.” It wasn’t a threat, though it might seem as one. It wasn’t a kindness either. It was a statement of fact, and with that spoken, she turned to leave Mack Ross by herself.

#the wicked get no rest.#threads.#good neighbors.#mack.

9 notes · View notes