#what do you mean people use the stuff you soak cakes in so they stay soft longer in mooncake dough and its called 'golden syrup'? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fernweh-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, it’s me again :3

My birthday is soon(next week on the Friday)

So I wondered if you could write headcanons for the Slasher with an Birthday S/O.

Like what would they give her, what would they do on her birthday. You probably get what I mean.

But only if it’s alright and you got time, if not it’s also fine^^

I already say thank you :3💕💕(btw I really love your writing <3)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE, I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!! I did see the other little tidbit you sent in and yes, ofc, anything for you. Especially since it’s your birthday and you asked so nicely<3

(Going ahead and posting this a lil early… i think? I can’t remember when you sent this in sorry :/)

-Fern🌿

Slashers on their S/O’s Birthday

Warnings: NSFW content, 18+

Michael Myers

Michael has always been pretty indifferent towards birthdays. So what, you’re getting older big whoop. He doesn’t see them as important and doesn’t understand the point of celebrating them.

However, as you keep mentioning to him that your birthday is coming up, he gets the hint. Michael isn’t stupid and he knows you well enough to be able to tell what you want.

Still, Michael isn’t going to throw you a party or decorate or anything like that. Instead he makes a statement just by spending the entire day with you.

During your time spent together you find out Michael did actually buy a cake for you. Although it was also partially for his own benefit as well seeing as he has a major sweet tooth. He even got “Happy Birthday y/n” written on the top in your favorite color. When you bite into it, you realize that it’s also your favorite flavor.

After the cake, Michael brings you a small box with a horribly tied ribbon wrapped around it. Don’t look at him funny, he tried okay. So what the gift inside was most likely stolen from a victims, you got a present that you loved. Isn’t that all that really matters?

Michael isn’t much of a giver in bed, he prefers to take. He mainly focuses on achieving his own end and whatever pleasure you get during that is what you get. But tonight he’ll make a point of not only making you finish first once, but numerous times throughout the night. Today is about you after all, why not try and set a new record in bed to mark the start of a new age.

Bo Sinclair

Morning sex, congratulations, this morning you become breakfast for Bo. No need to get up early to cook for him when he can simply devour you.

Surprise! He won’t be an ass to anyone for one whole day. Just for you darlin’. If some people happen to stumble into town, Bo won’t let anyone ruin your day, and quickly has Vincent take care of them. Even Lester will help out if need be, even though Les hates participating in the “family company”.

Sneaks away in the middle of the night to decorate the house. Luckily, Vincent pitches in and helps him make everything look nice. Bo goes all out with streamers, balloons, banners, he even got you a cake!

He’s more than eager to give you your presents as well. Of course he had to buy you a lingerie set, it’s a surprise that’ll help the two of you later that night…

Bo is a simple man, he just wants everyone to know that you belong to him. So he also got you a dainty little necklace of his name. Sure it may be cute to you, but secretly he’s laying his claim to you.

Usually he’s busy with keeping up the town but just this once he spends the entire day with you. Bo spending so much quality time with you doing whatever you want really says a lot.

He may even take you to the next town over for a nice dinner. After all, no one should have to cook on their own birthday and it’ll make good use of the cute little sundress he got you and gives you the opportunity to dress up. You better wear the lingerie he got you under it though. Good luck making it to the bedroom when the two of you get back from the restaurant.

Vincent Sinclair

You’re not sure who is more excited, him or you. Vincent makes sure that you have the best time ever and makes the whole day about you. It’s the perfect chance for him to spend the whole day with you and show you how much he loves you.

When you wake up he’ll be missing. He woke up early to make you your favorite breakfast. He had hoped to bring it to you in bed but sadly you’ve always been the early riser. Luckily for you, unlike Bo, Vincent is a good cook. How do you think the three boys survived before you showed up?

Vincent has always been a more private person so while there’s not any decorations all over the house and he can’t take you out to a fancy dinner you can still expect plenty of sweet surprises. He made you a bouquet of wildflowers that he picked, got you the new books you had been telling him you wanted, managed to snag one of the vinyls for the new album your favorite artist had recently released, and even got you some new outfits that he thought would look cute on you.

Vincent would be the one to put on music and dance around the living room with you. He enjoys personal time with you and uses the day to really express to you just how much he cares for you.

At the end of the day he runs you a hot bath. While you soak in the tub he throws around the rose petals and gets the ribbons and candles ready. Before you have time to get dressed Vincent will be scooping you up, tossing you on the bed, and tying you up. Be ready for a long night!

Thomas Hewitt

There’s not really much he can do for you seeing as the town is running low on supplies. Still, he’ll do his best to still make your birthday special for you. Mainly he’s just going to kick Hoyt and Monty out for the day so that you can have one peaceful day together. Luda gets to stay seeing as she’s also happy to celebrate with you.

Thomas lets Luda Mae know he wants to surprise you with something. So while he works on the surprise she’ll make sure to keep you occupied. Luda Mae will fix your hair for you and go ahead and give you the gift that she had made you, a sundress made from floral print fabric. She’s so happy her son found someone, especially someone as beautiful as you.

Thomas will have handmade you a small necklace. Since you didn’t tell him about your birthday until shortly before the day, you left him with little time to make it. He’s lucky that your comfortable with Luda Mae and he can get her to keep you distracted,

When Tommy sees you with the dress his momma made you and your hair fixed up he almost forgets about the small piece of jewelry in his pocket.

After hearing you squeal with delight when you open his gift he’s ecstatic! He loves nothing more than making you happy. when you eagerly get him to help you put it on he thinks he’s going to spontaneously combust with his love for you.

Luda Mae will bake you a cake. You’re basically her daughter in law at this point and she’s going to make sure that you have a good day. She enjoys having another woman in the house and enjoys seeing you and Thomas happy together. You’ve given her the complete family that she’s always wanted.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is very good at being sneaky. At this point, Malcolm already knows that Brahms is a real person. So Brahms has no issue with getting Malcolm to bring him everything he needs and giving him the extra money for the week. He makes sure to cover all the bases, he got you presents, a small cake, and of course stuff to decorate the living room.

The decorations in the living room aren’t necessarily the best. Brahms hasn’t been responsible for doing anything like this in his whole life. But he still does his best to try and impress you and make you happy. Just don’t expect for his best to be very good. After all, it is the thought that counts.

Honestly Brahms not being self centered for once should be enough of a surprise. It’s your birthday so he’ll make sure to be on his best behavior just for you! No tantrums or arguing, he promises! He even makes sure to hide the schedule for the day to make sure you know that today you get to relax.

Of course, you’ll still have to cook since Brahms is only capable of making sandwiches. His peanut butter to jelly ratio may be perfect but that’s not exactly the type of meal he thinks you would want on your birthday. So he does make sure to get the ingredients for all of your favorite foods!

Your presents include expensive jewelry, pretty clothes, and of course lingerie although that’s more of a gift for Brahms than it is for you. He’ll have you model all of the dresses and clothes that he got you. The big finale is the lace bra and underwear that you won’t be wearing for much longer.

Brahms is a switch and usually ends up being the more submissive one in bed. Tonight however, he’ll co for a change of pace and be more dominant. For once, he was the one spoiling you instead of the other way around and that brings out the more mature and dominant side of him. Expect o be sore the next day though, Brahms isn’t exactly good with holding back.

Billy Loomis

Billy has a tendency to be narcissistic and obviously an ass. But he can also be great at hiding those traits. On your birthday he makes sure to do exactly that, really playing up the bad boy/boy next door front he’s capable of. Tatum did believe that he was practically perfect, and on your special day, he’ll do his best to do exactly that.

He may not have the same money as Stu, but he still manages to spoil you. You’ll have his full attention for the day and he let you decide almost everything. Billy even lets you pick out the movies that you watch together on your birthday, which is something he’s never allowed to happen before.

Seeing you be happy gives him a funny feeling that he’s not used to which can cause him to act a little awkward. You throw him off a little bit. He didn’t expect to care so much about someone until you fell into his lap. He’s a simp for you and he knows it. If he wasn’t then he wouldn’t be making reservations for that fancy restaurant you loved and buying you a new outfit just for said reservation. Yeah he’s down bad.

Makes sure that you order whatever you want, today cost doesn’t matter. But if he knows your favorite, he orders for you in an attempt to impress you. See, he remembers your favorite food, isn’t he just the best. Also gets your favorite over priced dessert even if you have to take it to go. He can’t bake and he knows that store bought cake just doesn’t compare to the fancy restaurants.

He bought you lingerie for under that cute little outfit and he expects to see it by the end of night. Expect to pinned against the front door before either of you has the chance to unlock it. Billy has been imagining you in nothing but your birthday suit all night and he simply cannot wait any longer.

There’s nothing he enjoys more than seeing you fall apart underneath him. He loves seeing you look absolutely cock drunk with your makeup smeared on your face. Your moans and begs eventually begin to melt together and you just become and incoherent mess as he makes you cum again and again. It’s still not enough for him though, he’s going to make you scream.

Stu Macher

He is very determined to make you have the best day over. Expect breakfast in bed! It may not be great but eat it anyways, Stu is not a morning person and he managed to drag his ass out of bed early just for you. So even if the scrambled eggs have the occasional crunch to them it’s best to just grin and bear it.

Is very determined to take you shopping. Expect for him to buy you anything that you touch or pick up. Like the amazing boyfriend he is he will also carry the many bags that you end up with. You’ll have a brand new wardrobe by the end of the day. Of course he made you pick out a few lingerie sets. He even pointed out the ones he liked and made you find your size.

Of course, Stu will still take you out to a fancy restaurant and do the whole traditional night out thing. After dinner though the two of you will end up on the roof of his house that he made sure to help you out on. Stu is secretly a hopeless romantic deep down and will spend time looking at the stars with you because he thinks it’s something that you would like. Will listen to you as you ramble on about planets and watch as you point out constellations if that’s something you do.

Stu is very clingy at all times so he will be hanging over you all day. That’s nothing really out of the ordinary though. But usually those touches include grabbing your boobs, smacking your ass, and rubbing your hips. On your birthday the touches turn more gentle. Expect him to gently tuck your hair behind your ear so he can see your face, gently caressing your cheek, rubbing your knuckles while he holds your hand, all soft and sweet gestures to convey he truly does care.

He’s usually very fast paced with everything including talking, movements, and of course that includes in bed. But tonight he’ll be slow and gentle, drawing everything out. Also makes sure to focus on your pleasure instead of his own for once.

Asa Emory

Asa never thought he would celebrate anyone’s birthday. He certainly never celebrated his own and doesn’t see the point in doing so. To him, birthdays are just another day and there’s no point in celebrating ageing. So he went about most of his life ignoring birthdays, until you came along.

Asa adored you and your enthusiasm for life and all the good things in the world. You were a bright person, especially when compared to him, and he loved the innocence about it. So when you began to mention your birthday coming up with excitement in your voice he knew that you had expectations for your special day.

He may not be a person who celebrates but he’ll be damned if he disappoints. You’re the one good thing life has given him and he’s not letting you get away from him. If that means getting you a small cupcake and sticking a candle in it and a present then so be it. He can manage doing a little something for you.

When he’s not in his collector persona he is much more awkward and an absolute dork in your eyes. So when he takes you out for a nice dinner you’ll notice his slightly off behavior. Asa doesn’t like crowded public spaces and you’ll be able to pick up on his fidgeting. Luckily your good at carrying the conversation for him.

Asa appreciates that you understand it’s hard for him. So when you begin to do most of the talking and don’t pressure him to contribute much to the conversation besides the occasional nod he’s able to relax.

On the way home he gets nervous once more. What if you hate the present he got for you or expected more. He had only gotten you one thing and it wasn’t much. But when you finally open it and you light up like a kid on Christmas morning he lets out a heavy sigh and finally relaxes. It was only a simple necklace but you acted like he had just handed you the stars.

Asa will be surprisingly gentle with you for one night. Of course, he’ll still tie you up and absolutely wreck you but he makes sure to leave out the cutting and biting out for once. The only bruises you have will be on your hips from his harsh grip. It’s the closest thing you’re going to get to love making from him, but you know him well enough to get the meaning behind it.

Jesse Cromeans

Anything you want and it’s yours, he can make anything happen for you. He makes sure to tie up any loose ends with his business well before your birthday so that nothing can interrupt his time spent with you. Of course he makes sure to spoil you even more than he normally does.

Would love to take you on some fancy vacation and stay in one of the finest hotels there. Go ahead, pick any place you want to travel to and he’ll make the arrangements. He makes sure that anywhere he takes you is more private and remote rather than tourist-y though. Both so that he feels more comfortable and so that you can feel special and not have to deal with crowds.

Does the whole flower petals on the bed, candles, flowers, ice bucket with champagne kind of ordeal back at the hotel. Did you really expect him not to though? He has the money to so why not and he knows that even though you claim it’s cheesy that you absolutely love it. Th blush on your face and look in your eyes give away your love of cheesy things and he pays attention to every little thing you do.

Of course you get new jewelry, designer clothes, and lingerie but you get other gifts as well. Pretty much anything you’ve mentioned to him recently he makes sure to get you. Rambling on about that new book your favorite author just released? It’s yours! Been needing new materials for any of your hobbies? You got them!

Expect rough sex. Jesse rarely does gentle and with how much smaller you are than him he can sometimes accidentally hurt you. Your just so small and fragile compared to him kitten, he can’t help it. Of course he always makes sure to take care of you afterwards with a hot bath and will gently massage the knots out of your muscles. Jesse always makes sure that you’re taken care of.

654 notes · View notes

troublesometrollhunters · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine being pregnant in TrollMarket

~ You were one of Jims teachers. Recently pregnant and left alone to raise the baby you moved to Arcadia for a fresh start. However monsters and mayem were not on the pregnancy itinerary and now you've stumbled into a whole world of trouble that doesn't involve your pregnancy problems.

~ Jim swears to you as long as he's Trollhunter no harm will come to you or your baby and he's so sorry that you got caught up in this mess. However your quick to forgive and soon the Trollhunter team becomes your family, the kids becoming your own children in a way.

~ Jim is quick to cook you anything you want. If you have a weird pregnancy craving he'll make whatever you want. Pickled pears? Got it! Something super sweet? Of course. Something really spicy? Sure. Icecream? He'll get the machine and make you some! He loves cooking for you and is glad he can help outside of trollhunting.

~ Toby throughout the entire process becomes your hype man. Becoming pregnant can be hard on your body and how you see yourself. Especially since the hormones make everything seem like a big deal. Sometimes the weight is upsetting or you feel fat and like a slob other times your so tired but feel lazy for taking a nap. He's there to tell you your amazing and beautiful and you should always feel that way because it's true. Self care is key and he's determined to make sure your taken care of the whole pregnancy.

~ Claires an expert in pregnancies because of her baby brother. She helps you make a list of things you should get for the upcoming baby and enjoys maternity shopping with you. You may be a pregnant lady but that doesn't mean you should be forced to live in sweatpants for nine months. She also helps you pick out cute baby clothes and toys for the nursery.

~ Poor Blinky in his excitement mixes up troll customs with human ones and creates weird hybrid things that don't actually exist and defiently don't help the pregnancy.

~ The kids and trolls keep up on absolutely everything. You're very well taken care of the whole pregnancy. Jim makes sure your eating. Toby makes sure you take care of yourself. And Claire helps you with house stuff when you need it. Draal, Blinky, and Aarrrgh also get very involved. They want to hear about your doctor appointments and see all the sonograms and ultrasounds. (Good luck getting their hands off you when the baby begins kicking)

~ You never got a baby shower so the troll team surprises you. Claire organizes the party, Jim handles the cake and food, meanwhile Toby invites all your friends and decorates. You get gifts from trolls, people, and even changelings. Strickler didn't come but he sent an expensive gift and a nice card.

~ You don't think much of it as it's a busy fun day full of gifts, laughter, games, and love. When the parties over they have one last surprise for you. Taking you upstairs the kids are excited to show you a recently decorated nursey!

~ Blinky had painted the walls of the room to look like an enchanted forest. There was elegant trees with birds and critters and flowers full of bees and butterflies. Soft green carpet laid on the floor and you nearly cried as you looked around. Draal had built you a beautiful crib of wood with little pieces of heart stone hanging off of it. And Aarrrgh smiled as he'd put in some shelves and arranged toys. Stepping further into the room taking it in, the crib was full of fluffy pillows and soft blankets. All of them were fantasy themed with pixies or tales of fae. Hand made dolls of the trolls were in a toy bin and plushies of goblins and other creatures were placed around the room. There was a gorgoues rocking chair in the corner and next to it a shelf full of young troll books and childrens toys. There was also a wooden changing station with soft pillows for your baby that held all the supplies you needed to clean and change them. You cry telling them this is the best gift ever.

~ Bular found you by accident. About half way through your second term Goblins were chasing the trollhunting team and out of options they hid at your house since you were the closest. The U.V lights you installed made the goblins flee and you thought that was the end of that until a changeling tried to break into your home a couple days later.

~ The team decides Trollmarket was the safest place for you. Staying in Trollmarket until the baby comes and you can safely move everyone is excited. Trolls may not love humans but the fact that your carrying a life inside of you is seen as a glorious thing. Trollmarket would never turn a pregnant person away even if they are a human. You get an influx of gifts from trolls around the market and they all make a point to smile and wave whenever they see you, something they didn't do before.

~ If your feet ever become sore, don't worry about it. In human standards you may be big but in troll ones your small. Blinky, Aarrrgh, Draal they'll carry you if they see you struggling. It's also a troll instinct to want to feed anything that's tiny so be prepared for trolls constantly offering you strange things to eat because they think you should be bigger for the baby. Gifts are a common occurrence as you live with Blinky. Weapons. Troll toys. Books. You also receive a lot of interesting letters.

~ Blinky tells the babies stories every night before you got to bed. He reads human fairy tales but also tells troll lore excited. Aarrrgh snuggles next to you and wherever the baby kicks he laughs. You always go to bed warm and happy as your baby rests soundly in your stomach.

~ Draal gets very protective of you when you locate to Trollmarket. He was protective before but after the attack he's now a guard dog, constantly by your side unless the team really needs him. When the baby starts kicking he's nervous to touch your belly at first. He'd seen the others do it and he wanted to as well. Taking his hand you gently put it your stomach and his eyes widen as he feels a strong kick against it.

"They're a warrior!" He states excited and you chuckle. With who they'd be raised with you had no doubt they'd be a warrior.

~ Aarrrgh is very cuddly the entire pregnancy. He wants the baby to be warm and safe so he often curls up around you when you take naps. He's often nuzzling your baby bump and asking questions. Human pregnancies and troll ones are very different and sometimes he gets confused but he does his best.

~ Blinky reads way to many books that Claire brings over about babies. Now he thinks he's an expert on all things baby related. The entire pregnancy he gives ludicrous advice thinking it'll help the pregnancy and the baby. It's sweet but he becomes a bit overbearing and the kids sometimes have to intervene.

~ Vendel gets annoyed when the others have to leave and he's stuck with you. But as you waddle around the Heartstone complaining about sore feet and back pains he pauses. He leads you somewhere to sit down. He gives you a chunk of heartstone to hold and wraps you in blankets so your warm. Wandering away he comes back with tea for the both of you and starts a pleasant chat.

~ You've wandered into a dangerous world and your worried about your baby, about the kids. They shouldn't be alone... They shouldn't be taking care of you, your the adult! Vendel notices the sad way you say alone and care. He sees your lip tremble and it hits him your scared. He softly asks you if your afraid to be alone, if your afraid you won't get the care you need. Your hands instinctively touch the baby bump and your thoughts wander to the father who'd walked out on you. You nod feeling tears in your eyes and he gently puts his head to yours humming something soft and soothing.

"You are not alone here and you will be cared for here."

You begin sobbing relieved as he rubs your back. No you suppose you had nothing to worry about.

~ Vendel knows a lot about human pregnancies thanks to asking you and doing some light research. Blinky likes to challenge the old man about it and they often bicker about what's good and not good for you and the baby. It can be quit entertaining if not alarming.

~ Vendel gives you potions for morning sickness so you no longer puke when you wake up and he gives you tea to sooth your aching muscles. He gifts you a heartstone necklace so that peace may always be with you as you carry the baby.

~ Your in Blinkies library one day. The kids are out patrolling and your enjoying a nice night when suddenly your soaked. At first you assume you peed yourself and are a tad emabrassed but you know Blinky will understand. Calling him in for some assistance he pauses seeing you and that's when the contractions start. You didn't pee, your water just broke.

~ Going to a hospital may take too long and getting out of the canal was too dangerous at this point. You're very carefully picked up by Aarrrgh before your rushed to the heartstone. Someone had ran ahead so Vendel was getting ready as you were brought in.

~ There are soft blankets to lay on and your put on a Heartstone slab which eases the pain of labor. Trolls excitedly wait outside of the heartstone for the baby to come. Hours pass and although your sweaty and exhausted you can't help but smile as your baby is placed in your arms.

~ The kids run in along with Draal and they stare at you holding your newborn. You're covered in blankets and sweaty but you couldn't be happier as you stare at your baby. They're swaddled in a soft furry blanket holding a chunk of heartstone with wide eyes. They look around and you smile.

"Hi... Hi... I'm your mama..." You mumble holding them close. "This is your family..."

~ Vendel takes the baby to check on them and you sleep after the draining expeirnce when you wake you smile holding your child close. Vendel was the official grandpa and you'd named Aarrrgh and Blinky the godfathers of the child. You said the kids could be sisters and brothers if they wanted and you told Draal he was an uncle. They were all very excited.

~ You give your baby a human name and a Trollish one. One you'd use in the human one and one you'd use in TrollMarket. Holding them close and looking at your family you smile. You wouldn't have it any other way.

@arcadia-trash

292 notes · View notes

hiinnys · 3 years ago

Text

i buried a hatchet (it’s coming up lavender)

(hello! it’s been a minute! sorry, i’ve unfortunately been trapped under work’s capitalist foot!! but how are yall? MAJOR happy birthday to harry james! thank you for being my comfort character <3 anyways, hope you enjoy harry’s little 22nd party, which is also on ao3!)

the planning starts in may. it’s nearly three months early, but may brings bad memories molly’s always tried to avoid. it’s a simple question about cake flavors pointed at harry and ginny, their birthdays always planned in tandem, but harry freezes nonetheless. it’s nothing anyone would notice, but ginny does because she’s ginny and harry’s always been what she’s good at. so when they’re alone later and she asks about it, he’s not surprised.

“it’s stupid,” he says, shaking his head in that way he does that makes him seem so small ginny’s heart aches.

“harry,” she pushes this one, feels like she has to.

“it’s just…i’m twenty-two this year, aren’t i?”

“yeah?”

“i’m always gonna be older than them now,” he almost whispers, like it’s a crime to even speak aloud. he sits down on the bed just then. the bed in his flat that he’s been too scared to ask her to share with him. he wonders briefly if his dad was ever as scared to ask his mum something so easy; wonders if his dad ever got the chance to be, or if that was just another thing war took away from him.

“harry,” she sits next to him, body angled towards him so her legs are pushed up against his side. “talk to me.”

it’s a simple request; ginny’s like that, takes only the smallest pieces of him because she thinks everyone else takes too much. he wants to tell her that she can take as much as she wants, it’s all hers anyways, but he doesn’t know how, so he settles for giving her what she’s asked of him.

“it feels…wrong, i guess, to celebrate it,” he sighs, tries to quell the storm in his chest, in his head (doesn’t succeed). “it feels like i’m celebrating their deaths.”

she’s silent for a moment, like she’s thinking it all through, weighing the merits of what he’s said, and he can’t quite express how grateful he is that she gives him this - her respect, her thoughtfulness, her whole self, each and every time.

“i get it,” she finally says. “but you can’t live the rest of your life avoiding your birthday. i think you’ve already missed too many in your parents’ books.”

he knows she’s right, thinks about his years with the dursleys, about how he didn’t even know his birthday until he was five and a teacher at primary told him. he nods his head.

“but-,” he starts.

“just not this one,” she finishes. “yeah, i get it.”

the next time they’re at the burrow, ginny casually mentions that she’s actually surprised harry with a weekend trip for his birthday, seeing as he never takes time off otherwise, and if the family would like, they could do a joint cake at ginny’s birthday dinner.

***

she actually does surprise him with a trip, something that he wasn’t expecting, but she suggests they bring teddy along and harry reckons the kid’s due for a holiday. she doesn’t tell him where they’re going to start, just piles the three of them in harry’s car and tells him to drive (she’s yet to pass her driver’s test, but ginny’s one of the few people who genuinely enjoys the tube so she’s not in any rush).

it’s when they’re less than halfway there that harry realizes she has them set out for shell cottage.

“really? you thought bringing me to your brother’s place would be a nice birthday surprise?”

“first of all, you said yourself we aren’t celebrating your birthday, and, second, bill and fleur aren’t home. they’re in france, so i asked if we could borrow the place for the weekend and they said yes.”

“fair enough.”

***

teddy’s antsy for the water as soon as he sees it, so they only go as far as throwing their stuff in the sitting room before taking him down to the shoreline. he splashes happily through the calm water, and his clothes are soaked to the brim, but his laughter fills the air, so harry lets it be.

“harry!” the five year-old shouts, holding up a distinctly purple piece of coral. “look! pretty!”

“you wanna take it with you?”

“YES!” he screams, eyes wide with glee, and harry can’t help the rush of love for his godson. he exaggerates tucking the coral into his pocket when teddy hands it to him, just to affirm ted’s desire to keep it safe. when he turns around, ginny’s smiling at them from her place on a rock, jeans pushed up to her knees, feet in the water and red hair blowing in the wind, and harry finally feels peace settle into his heart.

***

the rest of the day passes rather quietly. when they finally make it in from the beach, the day catches up with teddy, leaving him exhausted and irate, so harry gives him a quick bath and settles the boy in for a small nap. when he gets back down, ginny’s changed and sits on a bar stool in the kitchen, picking at the last of the snack plate harry had made earlier in lieu of a proper lunch.

“hungry?” harry asks and, at her nod of affirmation, starts looking through the fridge to figure out what dinner can be. they sit in an easy silence for a bit, harry washing and cutting vegetables and ginny watching. over the years, he’s learned she likes to watch him cook, and though the reason for it doesn’t make too much sense to him, he likes having her there, so he’s never questioned it much.

“thank you for this,” he finally says.

“for what?”

“bringing us here. i’ve been in my head about it all too much, i think. the whole twenty-two thing. it’s nice to not have to think about it for a bit.”

she studies him for a minute, like she’s trying to look right at the core of him, so he puts down the knife he’s been using to chop the vegetables and gives her all of himself.

“you never have to thank me,” she says after a minute.

“i know.”

***

teddy “helps” harry clean up after dinner that night, which really just means that ted sits on the counter next to the kitchen sink and rattles on about something or the other while harry does the dishes. every now and then, harry blows some soap bubbles on the boy and basks in the glow of the laughter it brings out of him.

an hour later (and well past his bedtime), harry finally manages to get teddy to stay beneath the sheets, but it’s only when ginny reads him babbity rabbity twice and swears on her life that they’ll go back down to the water tomorrow that teddy settles in for the night.

“harry!” he whispers as harry’s switching off the light.

“yeah, mate,” harry stage-whispers back, his eyebrows raised for ginny’s amusement.

“happy birthday!” teddy murmurs tiredly.

“that’s tomorrow, mate.”

“still,” the boy whines.

“thanks, ted,” harry responds, gentle smile on his face.

when they finally make it into their room, harry places a quick silencing charm on the door. at ginny’s raised brow, he says, rather simply:

“for good measure.”

ginny snorts.

they’re silent as they get ready for bed, and harry lets himself sink deep into the warmth of it. they don’t get this too often, the pair of them; ginny’s spot in the harpies takes her across the world and, when harry’s not in some obscure town somewhere tracking some homicidal maniac or the other, kingsley has him on diplomatic missions across the continent. it grates at harry sometimes, how little he gets to be with his girlfriend, but ginny has games to play and championships to win and harry has people to catch and (every now and then) laws to change, and neither has any desire to stop anytime soon so they live with it. in his opinion, they’re pretty good at it. they know their limits. they carve time out for each other, always. harry makes it to all the big games, the ones she’s nervous about. ginny makes it to every stupid ceremony and the endless galas that make harry want to claw his eyes out. she keeps him going; he keeps her sane, and the rest they take as it comes, together. always together.

“harry,” her voice, light as the sun, breaks him out of his reverie. “where’d you go?”

“sorry,” he whispers back. “just in my head a bit.”

“that’s okay. it’s a nice head.”

“it’s a nice head?” he grins at her, knowing she’s caught. ginny rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face, and when she’s done feigning her annoyance, she pulls him in for a kiss. it’s calm and confident and everything that is ginny and when they fuck, they look into each other’s eyes the entire time, and he’s reminded, with each thrust, of just how much he loves her.

***

when he wakes up, the room’s dark, the spot next to him is empty, and he can hear voices coming from below. his heart clenches for a minute, a piece of the war he’ll never be able to let go of, but it eases when he sees ginny’s wand, still on the table, still next to his.

he gets out of bed silently (mentally thanking his auror training) and makes the short walk down the hallway towards the stairs when he sees teddy’s door open too. before he has the chance to panic this time, though, he hears the boy’s laugh followed by ginny’s own giggle. there’s a smile on his face now that he knows ginny would tease him about if she could see it, but he honestly can’t help it. not when he’s in this house, full of a warmth that he’s finally, blessedly, allowed to be a part of. he spots them in the kitchen, but from their angle, he knows they can’t see him. ginny’s leaning against the counter, mixing something in a rather large bowl, while teddy’s sitting on the counter next to her, weirdly, waving a strawberry in the air.

“we gotta put it in!” he whispers, in the way five year-olds do, which isn’t much of a whisper at all. “harry loves strawberries!”

“strawberries in a birthday cake? i’m afraid you may be a genius, ted,” ginny announces in a quiet voice, while harry’s eyes fill with unshed tears. he stays glued to the spot for a bit longer, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he’s ruining their surprise, but not being able to turn away from his family. eventually though, he does. he climbs, silently, back up the stairs and slips back into his and ginny’s bed. when he falls back asleep, it’s with the ghost of a smile on his face and a feeling he doesn’t think he’s known until this moment.

***

he’s woken up in the morning by teddy trying to pull his arm off.

“wha-”

“come on,” the boy whines. “it’s breakfast!”

at that, harry wakes up instantly, feeling the guilt wash over him at the idea of leaving teddy without food. it’s only then that he smells the coffee in the air and realizes that ginny isn’t next to him. he breathes just then, quickly realizing that teddy isn’t hungry; he just wants harry awake.

“sorry, mate,” harry smiles at him guiltily, voice a bit rough with sleep. he lets ted drag him down stairs, the boy practically bouncing the entire way down. when they get to the kitchen, he’s met with ginny - long hair in a knot atop her head, eyes still a little sleep tired - grinning around a piece of toast.

“morning,” she smiles up at him and he gives her a lopsided grin in return.

“ginny, ginny, ginny,” teddy bounces next to her. “we’ve gotta do it now!” he whispers.

“we should probably let him eat first,” ginny whispers back.

“no! we gotta do it now!”

“alright, alright,” she responds. “harry,” she gestures to a seat, which harry takes, brows furrowed though he thinks he knows what’s coming. sure enough, ginny and teddy disappear for a few seconds, then come back with a slightly lopsided cake adorned in strawberries, a single candle lit in the middle. he beams the minute he sees them, which turns into an all out laugh the minute teddy starts up his rendition of ‘happy birthday’ which usually involves a lot of lyrics that never stay the same and none of them ever know. when ted’s done, ginny tells him to make a wish and harry asks teddy for help blowing out the candle.

they skip actual breakfast, choosing to tuck into the cake first. it’s sickly sweet and makes teddy smile from ear to ear, frosting covering his cheeks.

“like it, mate,” harry bemusedly asks. all teddy manages is a quick nod between bites, and harry knows he’ll regret letting the kid have two slices later on. but that’s later and this is right now and right now, he’s sat at a table with the two people he loves most in the world, eating a cake they made for him. right now, he’s celebrating - in his own, admittedly, small way - a birthday his parents’ never got to. right now, he’s doing everything they wanted for themselves and him. right now (and everyday after), he’s their son, the same as he’s always been, keeping them alive with every breath he breathes, every birthday he celebrates. right now, he’s sat with the woman he loves, laughing as he watches his godson attempt to fit an entire strawberry in his mouth, so completely and ridiculously happy.

happy birthday, ginny mouths from over teddy’s head. harry smiles easily at her, love shining through his eyes, lighter than he’s ever been.

#hinny #hinny fic #happy 41st harry! you deserve nothing less than all the love in the world #i realize canon says harry should be a dad at this point so this is definitely not canon-complaint #oops #okay ill shut up now #hope you've all been good <3333 #goes without saying but fuck jkr

62 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You and Me - Chapter 12

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1724

Rating: E

Warnings: Foreplay, mentions of sex, mentions of drug use, being triggered

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back. Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you. For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down. Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father. Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 12: Then

Clint was starting to miss the circus. It was never that he didn’t like the circus. He loved the circus. It was his family and he loved performing. He loved the positive reinforcement he got from the crowd when they cheered him on. He had loved being with Eden.

He just didn’t like all the underground stuff, and just because he’d gotten to the point where that shit had pushed him over the edge, didn’t mean he wanted to lose the rest of it. He was beginning to regret calling the police. What ended up happening was they’d pinned the murder on her and the others had just being accessories. She’d gotten locked up and Tiboldt just moved the circus on leaving you and Clint behind, and Clint felt terrible.

The two of you had been trying to make your way together since but it wasn’t easy. When it was just the two of you, you had to find places to perform on your own. You busked a lot, but it was never a huge moneymaker. Often it wouldn’t even cover a place to stay that night, and you’d end up having to sleep rough, either on the outskirts of town or in a park somewhere.

Thankfully, he’d managed to get you both a two-week job at a carnival which while it didn’t pay a lot - it meant you had a roof over your head and it was easy enough to talk some of the girls who worked the food stands into giving him funnel cake or corn dogs on the house.

The problem with working carnivals was that people were never there to see the performers. They wanted to ride the rollercoaster and eat fried food. People would drift in and out of his show offering meager applause and then get distracted by a balloon seller and wander off again. He wanted to work somewhere where people wanted to see him and he could soak up their adoration.

He’d been lying on the bed in just his sweats, feeling sorry for himself when you showed up. The place you were sharing was a crumby room with a bathroom that was shared with the entire floor in a hostel near the carnival. A lot of transient people who picked up work at the carnival ended up living at the hostel, so it had only been a couple of days when he started recognizing all the faces.

You sat on the end of the bed and dropped a bag in front of you. He didn’t look up as you seemed to take off your shoes and put a new pair on. “Clint,” you said, tapping his leg to get his attention. He propped himself up and raised his eyebrow.

You put one leg up on the edge of the bed, displaying the thigh-high boot you just put on. It had a low heel and all the way up the side was a series of thick buckles. It gave you both a dangerous and sexy look. Something he’d been noticing more and more now it was just the two of you. They also looked expensive.

“How did you pay for those?” He asked.

“Didn’t,” you said. “Don’t ask if you don’t wanna know.”

He sighed and flopped back down on the bed. “Didn’t we leave the circus to get away from the crime shit?”

“I’m not murdering people. I’m not committing grand larceny. Just… we need shit, Clint. You wanna keep performing to make money, I’m with you, but we’re not even earning enough to feed ourselves most days, and we have to upgrade our equipment sometimes,” you said. “I promise, I’m not doing shit you’d really hate.”

He huffed and you lay down next to him, holding one leg up and patting your boot as you looked it over. He rolled onto his side and watched you. You were smiling a little and flicking your ankle so your calf flexed. He wished he could trust you, but trust was hard for him. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” he said.

You rolled over and looked at him. “You didn’t drag me anywhere,” you said. “You were right. They went too far, but maybe we need to figure out what we’re okay with, because the way we’re headed, we’re not gonna be able to do anything because we won’t have any equipment, any food, or anywhere to live.”

He nodded. “You’re right,” he said and worried at the inside of his cheek. “No hurting people.”

“Of course not,” you agreed.

“No small businesses,” he said. “Those guys are just trying to get by too.”

You nodded. “I’d agree with that.”

“And if we hit a big store - you know, one owned by some big evil megacorp, we need to do it in a way that we’re not fucking up some dude who’s just running the checkout’s life,” he added.

“I feel like retail is a waste of time,” you said.

“You just stole some boots,” Clint argued.

“Did I?” You said cryptically.

“Didn’t you?” He asked.

You quirked an eyebrow at him and he started laughing. “You little shit,” he said and started ticking you.

You screeched and started giggling, grabbing his wrists and trying to wrestle him off you. He let you pin his hands behind his back and as he watched you, look at him smugly, your chest rising and falling as you caught your breath, he was struck by how sexy and dangerous you looked again. He wasn’t sure when that happened. He hadn’t always looked at you like that, and he wasn’t sure if you just different now, or if he just noticed it now. He leaned in a little, his lips parted and you took a deep breath in, moving in closer to him too.

His lips came close to yours. Alarmingly close. He knew if he didn’t stop soon he was going to kiss you, and kissing you definitely meant things would change. He blinked and pulled back.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“Why not?” You asked, looking at him with your head slightly tilted. You let go of his wrists and he pulled his arms back and rubbed one of them.

“I dunno… you’re a kid…” he said.

You laughed. “I haven’t been a kid for a long time, Clint.”

“Oh,” he said, looking you up and down.

“And you were kind of a kid too when we met,” you added. “You aren’t that much older than me.”

“Right,” he added.

“So if you want to kiss me, you can,” you said. “It’ll be okay.”

He swallowed and nodded, not exactly sure if it would be, but wanting it nonetheless. You leaned in again, and he bridged the difference, bringing his lips to yours. You kissed him slowly and deeply, tangling your hands into his hair and guiding him onto his back. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your shoulder and thigh. You rolled your hips against his leg and danced your tongue with his. He groaned softly, surprised and extremely turned on by how dominant you were being.

He pulled you tighter to him, rutting his hips up against you, his cock hardening in his pants. You moaned into his lips and ran your hand up under his shirt, your fingers tracing his abs as you gradually pushed the fabric up. He rolled you and ran his hand from the top of your boot to the corner of your hip. Neither of you broke the kiss, each just hungrily moving your lips against the other’s.

He slipped his hand down into your shorts and you broke away from him with a gasp and backed away, pushing his hands away from you. Clint looked at you startled as you drew your legs up against you. “No, no, no…” you said shaking your head. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Clint said, gently backing away from you a little. “It’s okay. We can stop.”

“I’m sorry, Clint,” you said, not looking at him. “I want to. I want to. I thought maybe if it was you it’d be okay.”

Clint moved so he was sitting cross-legged opposite you. “Sugar, it’s fine. I understand, okay?”

You nodded and started to wring your hands. “I’m broken.”

“Have you tried with someone else?” He asked.

You nodded. “A few times. I’ve tried getting drunk first. I’ve tried smoking pot. I just keep freaking out.”

Clint held out his hand and you took it and moved, curling up so your head was in his lap. He began to play with your hair. “We never have to try again if you don’t want to. We can call this a dumb mistake.”

“Is that how you see it? A dumb mistake?” You asked, not looking up at him.

“No,” he said. “But I think if I keep saying it, I might be able to get myself to believe it.”

You chuckled softly, but there was a slightly hysterical edge to it. He caressed your cheek. “If you want though,” he said gently. “We can just take our time. I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked up at him. “What if I can never do it?” You asked.

“We’ll worry about that if it happens,” he said. “There’s no rush. You want to do it, right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I really do.”

“And you can touch yourself, right?” he said. “I’ve heard you in the shower before.”

“Clint!” You yelled and hit him.

“What? It’s my fault you come so loudly?” He teased.

You broke down into giggles and he felt himself relax a little. “You do though, right?”

“Yeah. Just when it’s anyone else…” You said.

“Then we can take our time. Make out a lot,” he said. “I’ll even take you on a date if you want.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased. “How are you gonna pay for that?”

He pinched your hip playfully and you squeaked and smacked his thigh. “How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good,” you agreed, sitting up.

“Good,” he said and pecked your lips. “It’s you and me, remember?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said, as you started playing with his fingers. “Hey, Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“You want to make out again?” You asked.

Clint chuckled and pulled you into his lap. “I’d love to,” he said and brought his lips to yours.

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #it's you and me

80 notes · View notes

redpandaramblings · 4 years ago

Text

Laundry Day. Sero x F!reader

Content warning- Mature humor, Mineta mention, sexual situations, heavy petting.

“Come on! It would be so much fun!” Mina was bouncing on her heels, practically vibrating with excited energy as she tried to convince the group to go along with her scheme.

“So let me get this right.” Bakugo sighed. “You want to do this fucking thrift store scronging thing for Christmas?”

“Yep!” Mina said. “Let’s be real, none of us have a lot of money this year, and this will be a way to have a lot of fun on a budget! It’s simple. Everyone finds the weirdest or most inappropriate thing they can buy for five bucks or less, and then we have a white elephant party on Christmas Eve!”

“White Elephant?” Kirishima asks, tilting his head.

Kaminari nods, jumping in. “Yeah man! Means people take turns picking gifts out of a pile. Or they have the chance to steal a gift someone else already opened. Basically, don’t go picking stuff thinking it will go to a specific person.”

“Is this going to be just us? Or are we inviting everyone? Because I live in curious fear of whatever Mineta would manage to dig up.” You asked from where you were lounging.

Mina blanched while Denki cackled in delight.

“Oh god, we have to invite everyone now! Imagine Midoria’s face! Imagine Iida’s!”

“It’s settled! Party at Bakubro’s!” Kiri cheered.

“Oi shitty hair! Don’t fucking invite everyone over to my place!”

“But you make the best curry! Please? For your bestest friends in the whole wide world?”

“Fuck no!”

“Pleeeeaaaase?” Kiri pleaded.

“NO!”

Kirishima looked around the squad, communicating silently as everyone nodded. As a collective force, you all turned your best puppy eyes at Bakugo. He squirmed, firmly trying to look away from all of you. You all started fake whimpering and whining. You knew you had won when Katsuki’s lips briefly twitched into a smile.

“Alright! Alright! Now stop it, you fucking extras!”

“Three cheers for Bakubro!” Sero exclaimed.

The weeks flew by and before you knew it, the party was upon you. Katsuki had grumbled and bitched the whole time, and yet now was gazing with pride at the absolute spread he had spent the last two days cooking. Everyone had showed up, had gorged themselves, and were now in the process of opening presents. There had been a couple weird mugs, a lamp made out of a deer leg, and Iida had had the misfortune of opening the gift Mineta had brought. Everyone stared in horrified awe at the three foot long, hot pink dildo.

“Are those teeth marks on it?”

“Yep, teeth marks.”

“Mineta, where the hell did you find this thing?”

“I swear I got it at a thrift store! The price tag is still on the base, look!”

“Yep. That’s a price tag.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“I wanna bite it.”

“Y/N! NO!”

There was a lot of laughter and teasing as the evening continued, gifts continuing to be claimed or stolen at a slow pace. Just about everyone after Iida had tried to steal ownership of the horror dong as it had been nicknamed. Denki had just stolen it from you, so you had to pick a new gift. You pointed toward a box that was rather conspicuously wrapped entirely in tape.

“Okay, someone toss me whatever the hell Sero got.”

The black haired man gave a little fist pump as he snagged the box, walking over to sit next to you as he handed the box over. He casually pressed against your side and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Amiga, I’m honored! You’re going to love it!”

“Yeah, I’m going to love it if I can ever get into it.” You began the process of slowly unwrapping the absurd amount of tape. “Seriously, anybody got a knife?”

A chorus of “no”s replied, no one actually bothering to look for one.

You gave a dramatic groan. “You’re all awful and I hate each and every one of you.”

Hanta gasped and placed a hand over his heart. “Even me, Querida?”

“Especially you, you office supply elbowed freak.” You replied, sticking your tongue out at him even as you snuggled more comfortably into his side.

After a couple more minutes of dramatic whining and tape unwrapping, you finally got the box open, only to reveal the gaudiest t-shirt you had ever seen. It was a nauseating shade of Pepto Bismol pink. There was glitter. And oh god, what the thing said. You started cackling. You held it up for everyone to see, discovering as you did so that this had to be the largest shirt you had seen in your life.

“Ooo, nice one Hanta, that’s really awful!”

“Someone steal this from me, please!”

“No way, Y/N! It’s the perfect addition to your wardrobe!”

“Hermosa! I’m wounded you would get rid of my gift right after opening it.”

“Look at this thing! Fatgum would swim in it!”

You made a show of grumbling, but you stowed the shirt back in its box and enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friends. When you got home quite late that evening, you shoved the box into the back of your closet and didn’t think about it again until almost a year later.

~~~

Today had been the day from hell. You muttered curses to yourself as you stomped down the hallway to your apartment. Work had been harder than usual, the kind of day that made you grateful to make the long commute back home. So of course today would be the day that the subway would be taken over by a villain who had a sludge quirk. Asshole had flooded the cars with the thick, foul smelling, viscous ooze that reminded you of things unmentionable. You and the other passengers had had to scramble to make sure no one ended up in over their head. Lucky everyone had been saved. Unluckily you and many others, you had spent the better part of two hours standing shoulder deep in the muck. It was in your hair. It had soaked your clothes. It was in your underwear. And the icing on the cake was of course it was your friends and neighbors who had rescued you. Of course your crush had seen you when you looked like you had taken up competitive septic tank diving.

It took you three tries before your key actually got in the lock. You shuffled into your apartment and straight for the bathroom. Grimacing as you peeled your clothing off, you unceremoniously chucked everything into the hamper before stepping into the shower and turning the water as hot as it would go. You stayed in the shower for over an hour scrubbing and rescrubbing every inch of you. With great reluctance, you eventually stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. You lazily dried yourself off as you walked into the bedroom, intent on putting on pajamas and pretending you didn’t exist for the next several hours.

You opened your underwear drawer only to be filled with a deep sense of dread. Empty. Your pajama drawer? One pair of extreme booty shorts that say “creepy” on the butt. Your t-shirt drawer? Empty. Your closet? Empty. Frustrated tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as you realized that the shorts were the only clean item of clothing in your apartment. You had been meaning to do laundry for a while, but you hadn’t realized that it had gotten this bad. As much as you hated to, you were going to have to do your laundry tonight. You put the shorts in and looked through your closet again, desperate enough to find a sheet to try and fashion into a toga when you spotted a rather bedraggled tape covered box. You hadn’t thought about your ridiculous white elephant gift in several months, but now? Well, it technically was a shirt. It certainly would cover you better than an improvised sheet toga. Before you could think twice about it, you opened the box, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.

The shirt swam on you, going past your butt. The color was bad, and you winced at the image on the front. But, you were now decent enough to venture down to the building’s shared laundry room. So, after grabbing your hamper, detergent, and quarter jar; you did just that.

You hummed the Mission Impossible theme to yourself as you descended the stairwell to the ground floor. Most of your friends lived on this level, but chances were they were fast asleep at this time of night. You were glad of that as you hurried along. You really didn’t want to run into anyone wearing your current getup. It took several minutes to sort your laundry into a few machines and get everything started. You were leaning against the last machine in the line, debating going back to your place or just staying here when you heard something that made you freeze. Upbeat whistling that was growing closer each second. You knew that whistle You did not want to see the owner of that whistle right now. You had already been embarrassed in front of crush today, you really didn’t need him showing up for round two. You were debating how quickly you could scramble into a dryer to hide when Sero Hanta entered the room.

He briefly glanced your way. “Hey Y/N! I figured I might see you here. I’ll admit I’ve seen some shit, and that was gross even by my standards. I wanted to ask how you were doing. Make sure you weren’t injured or any…”. He trailed off when he finally registered what exactly you were wearing. His grin turned positively feral as he set his own laundry bag to the side.

“My, my, my.” Sero gave a rumbling chuckle. “Whatever do we have here?” Sero’s eyes could sweep up and down your body. His signature grin grew wider as his gaze lingered on your t-shirt clad chest.

You crossed your arms, attempting to hide the gigantic image of a lime green, glittery, prancing unicorn proclaiming “I’m horny!” What were the odds that someone else would be washing their clothes at two in the morning? Apparently changes were pretty damn high, you thought as you leveled a half hearted glare at your friend and neighbor.

“It’s laundry day, Hanta, don’t read into it.”

“But Hermosa! How can I not? The first time I see mi corazón wearing the gift I so painstakingly chose for her?” He waggled his eyebrows as his trademark teasing grin spread over his face.

You blushed, turning your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“You’re full of crap, Cellophane. It’s been a really shitty day, and this was literally my only thing to wear.”

Sero nodded and hummed, turning to put his own laundry in the machines. “Si, si. It was a rather difficult time, it looked like. And you okay though? Not injured? I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you after the fight was over.”

You groaned, tilting your head back and covering your face with your hands. “I’m afraid I got a nasty case of extreme embarrassment and took a heavy blow to my pride. Of course you fuckers had to be the heros on duty for that whole debacle.”

Hanta looks at you seriously as shoves disorganized armfuls of laundry into the nearest machine. “I’d rather it be me saving you than anybody else, Querida.”

You let your hands fall to your side with a disgruntled sigh. “Why? So you can witness all the embarrassing situations you can blackmail me with?”

“Well now that you mention it, yes.” Sero dumped an obscene amount of soap into the washer before turning it on. “However,” he purred in a sinful voice that startled you. He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar. He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar. Squeaking, you inched away from him until the back of your legs were pressed firmly against the cold metal of the washing machine. Hanta leaned over your retreating frame, placing an arm on either side of you, caging you in. “Querida mia, I want to always be able to make sure you are safe.”

You placed your hands on his chest, halfheartedly trying to shove him away.

“That’s very touching. Now get out of my personal space.”

“But Querida,” Sero murmured, his voice going low and sensual, moving closer until your hips pressed against each other. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than your personal space. Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte...”

With him so close, there was nothing you could do to disguise the shiver that ran through you at his words.

“Oh? What’s this?” Sero said. His large hands traveled to your hips, his long fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt to tantalizingly stroke your skin. He leaned forward, voice turning to a growl with his mouth next to your ear. “Hermosa likes me speaking Español, hmm?”

You bite your lip before giving in and nodding.

“Well, in that case… Taco supreme!”

The fingers that had been stroking your skin suddenly became deadly, horrible tickle weapons; digging into your sides and moving rapidly. You shrieked with surprised laughter, thrashing from side to side as you tried to escape. However, Hanta’s large frame and firm hips kept you pinned against the washing machine as his traitorous fingers continued their assault. He continues to tease in between his own laughter. “Nachos grande! Cinnamon Twists! Quiero Taco Bell!”

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you wheeze and slap at his chest. “Stop! Stop! You horrible man!” He gets in a few more tickles before he does stop, wrapping his arms around you, pulling into a tight hug as you both take a few moments to pant and calm your laughter. He nuzzles your neck before asking softly, “Feel better?”

You nod, just enjoying his warm body wrapped around you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” Your voice just as soft as his, one of your hands finds its way up to stroke his hair.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Please.” You whisper softly, tugging at his hair just enough to encourage him to move his head back. Your lips find each other, cautious and gentle at first. Then, Hanta nips at your lower lip, and you let your mouth fall open with a whimper. The kiss is hunger and passion, and heat. Tongues wrestling, teeth lightly biting and teasing each other as hands roam and grope. Sero’s hands find the back of your thighs and soon he’s lifting you, setting you down on the edge of the washing machine. He presses himself between your spread legs, bucking against you, and you can feel his hard length teasing you through your clothes.

“Wanted this so long. You have no idea how long. Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti. Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.”

“Me too. Wanted this so long, but didn’t think you felt the same. Now get back here and kiss me like you mean it!”

He happily complied, his lips fitting over yours as if they had been made to be placed together. The kisses and touches didn’t stay innocent long, his hands finding your breasts through your shirt, teasing and pulling at your nipples. One of your hands traveled down to stroke the obvious bulge that was rutting against you. Between his thrusting and the vibrations of the machine you were sitting on, your shorts were becoming visibly soaked. His fingers found their way up a leg hole and he moaned sinfully when he found there weren't any undergarments keeping his touch from your soaking folds. It was your turn to smirk, pulling away from his kisses to whisper in his ear.

“I told you, Darling. Laundry day.”

“Amore, you’re going to be the death of me.” He groans, shoving his face into your cleavage as he slips a finger into you.

You laugh breathlessly. “You better not die on me, Hanta. What I have in mind will be much less fun if you’re dead.”

“HOLY FUCK!” Shouted a very recognizable voice from the doorway. Your groan was not from pleasure as you rested your head on Sero’s shoulder.

“Piss off, Denki.”

“Hanta’s finally getting some honey! Score man!”

“What’s going on?” Mina’s sleep heavy voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Y/n and Sero are going to Pound Town in the Laundry Room!”

“Denki, en el nombre de Dios, I will kill you if you don’t back out of that doorway and let me finish what I started.”

Bakugo’s voice rang down the hall “No fucking in the goddamn Laundryroom!”

Kiri’s voice soon followed “Take it easy, Tsuki! They can clean up when they’re done! Get some guys! You need condoms?”

Sero sighed deeply, pulling his hand out of your pants as your shoulders shook from silent laughter. “I think, Hermosa, we can agree no fucking in front of the friend group?”

You nodded, laughing as you jumped down from your washing machine perch. “Not until the third date at least.”

Sero moaned softly, not expecting the way that statement had made his cock twitch. Acting quickly, he scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “My room. Now.”

“Ooo, Caveman Hanta. Sexy.”

Denki jumped to the side to let Sero pass, calling after you “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

You called back “Well, I’m going to do Hanta, so what does that say about you?”

Sero’s hand came down on your bottom with a firm smack as he continued down the hallway and around the corner, taking you two toward his apartment and out of sight.

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

Spanish guide-

Amiga- Friend

Querida- Darling

Hermosa- Beautiful

Querida mia- My darling.

Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte- If you knew the things that I want to do to you

Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti. Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.- And then today I was so worried about you. When I saw that you were in danger, I wanted to kill that villain and lock you up where you would never be in danger again.

Hey guys! Pan here, hope you enjoyed it. It’s been quite a while since I’ve put any of my fanfic out there, so please be gentle with me. I just used Google translate for the Spanish, so I’m sure some of it is very wrong. If you have corrections, please feel free to send them my way! Also, if you see any triggers that need tagging please let me know. I also accept constructive criticism, and appreciate having spelling and grammar mistakes pointed out. Also want to take the chance to answer this question ahead of time-

“The fuck is up with the dildo?!?!”

The Dildo of Doom is based on real events. That actually happened. One of my former sorority sisters found the dong of death at a thrift store. It did indeed have teeth marks on it. Human teeth marks, I should clarify. Truth is stranger than fiction.

I have to thank @reinawritesbnha for helping me edit some clunky sections. If you aren’t already familiar with her work, please check her out!

Taglist- @reinawritesbnha @nkjktk

#Sero #Sero Hant #sero x reader #not sfw #hanta reader #mature situations

261 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 3 years ago

Note

Ok...u got my attention...💘 for skuldugery and cassandra

OH BOY I GOT ONE

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

Okay so when they first meet, it's way back before he met Skugwife, when he was on-again-off-again with China and Ghastly and making his way up the ranks in the Sanctuary army.

A dashing young officer with an impressive inheritance and a string of victories under his belt would've been prime 1600s marriage real estate. They meet at some Sanctuary party, dance together a bit, get along very well. Skug was already arrogant and vain, but he was also charming and funny, which was a bonus, and they were social equals - she's from a wealthy, landed family herself. She was interested in him and they were in each other's social circle from around his mid-20s to when he met Wifey and fell disgustingly in love, at which point she conceded defeat and let him go.

It's actually Gordon who brings them back into each other's lives in the 1980s. They've both changed a lot since they last saw one another and she's not really sure what to make of him. He's colder, more serious, and she knows he's lost...pretty much everyone. When she tells him to come by anytime, he's polite but detached and basically says that's not a good idea, so she doesn't expect to see much of him in the future. But he comes back some months later with a difficult case to ask if she's seen anything, and from that point on they work together sporadically, if she has any visions that might be useful to him.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

They rekindle their flirtation after he comes back in Dark Days. He's not okay, not in the slightest, and she can see it. He's faking being okay, but he's overselling it. She knew him through the period where his mother was killed, and he tried to play that off the same way. He ends up driving out to her cottage at some ungodly hour of the early morning because he's falling apart and he doesn't really have anywhere else to go. she takes him in, sits with him until long after the sun comes up and lets him talk it out until he's dozing off where he's sitting.

By the War of the Sanctuaries, they're Together.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

She was rather taken with him when they first met. She liked to think of herself as the future Mrs Captain Pleasant. He was attracted to her, but also otherwise entangled and considerably less invested.

When they get back together, it's more. Falling in love at the same time.

where their first date was and what it was like

They've spent a lot of time together, usually at her cottage, already. But he gets it into his head he wants to take her on an actual date, and she's a homebody, so he decides to make her dinner. It's kind of a disaster because he hasn't had to cook anything in hundreds of years - he follows a recipe, but he still manages to burn it and get food absolutely everywhere with the electric whisk. He's pretty frustrated and upset that he ruined it, but she finds it hilarious, and they end up cuddling on the couch with takeout and a movie.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

She gives him a key. She prefaces it with a big speech about how it doesn't have to mean anything, he just spends so much time there that he might as well be able to let himself in, and she wants him to have somewhere he really feels safe and comfortable and her place can be that for him if he wants, and -

He kisses her mid-speech, so she never gets to finish it.

who proposes first

He does. She'd never bring up marriage to him, when she knows how his first one ended. She can't be completely sure he's done grieving his first love, and she doesn't want to hurt him, so it's better not to bring it up.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

It's not a secret at all. Valkyrie still goes nearly a decade without noticing.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

They're in bed together first thing in the morning. He doesn't remember the last time he was this relaxed and happy. He watches her wake up and she cuddles closer into him with the squinty morning-sun-in-your-face look and he never thought he'd love this much again and it just. Comes out.

who’s more dominant

Neither, really. They're very much a team. She tempers his recklessness, and he gives her a nudge out of her comfort zone. She has the same ability Wifey had, though, to wrangle him without ever letting on that she's doing it.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

He was totally drained after unloading a year's worth of torture on her post-Dark Days, and she was trying to comfort him. It doesn't lead anywhere - she puts him to bed on her couch and stays with him so he feels safe enough to switch off and sleep.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

She buys him a hideous Christmas sweater the first year they're officially together, but has yet to successfully bully him into wearing it.

how into pda they are

They're your average couple. If she drops in on him at the Sanctuary, she'll kiss him goodbye. He'll put his arm around her when they're walking, or let her hold his hand. But neither of them is an exhibitionist.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

He does. He could easily just redirect the rain, but she likes nature stuff and that includes getting soaked through on occasion, kissing him in the rain, and splashing through puddles.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

Her cottage, more often than not. He'll happily take her out whenever she wants to, but she's a homebody at heart and she's more fond of going for long walks in the countryside near her home or cooking together, watching old movies, that sort of thing.

who’s more protective

Him, by a million miles. She doesn't necessarily like the amount of violence in his life, but to her he's very much the capable soldier who can look after himself. But she is a pacifist and very into the hippie ideology, so especially after the Night of Knives, she relies on him to protect her. He knows damn well that the only reason he didn't lose her the same night Finbar died is because he just happened to be sleeping over and the would-be assassin got more than he bargained for.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Probably circa KOTW? It can't have been Death Bringer, or he'd have asked her to the Requiem Ball.

if they argue about anything

Not often. She's one of the most emotionally healthy people in this series, and she's the closest Skulduggery Pleasant has ever gotten to therapy. She's all about communication and talking it out.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Skug.

who steals whose clothes and how often

She steals his jackets and coats. She'll wear something just a little too light for the weather, so that he'll inevitably offer her his suit jacket. It's an old way of courting that she finds very endearing.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

They bring out the Old Person in each other. They like to go for long walks, and picnics, and dancing to old gramophone records. They read books and bicker about how much they did or didn't enjoy them. She likes to garden and paint, and he's not half bad at art either, so they'll paint each other and laugh about it.

how long they stay mad at each other

They don't. They argue very little in the first place, but Cassie is very communicative, so she usually manages to head off any potential arguments before they even start.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

She has hot chocolate, and he has his black.

if they ever have any children together

No - but if he was ever going to have children with anyone else, it should probably be Cassie. She's sensible, level-headed and emotionally healthy, so he could be the same loving-but-irresponsible dad he was with Skugbab.

if they have any special pet names for each other

She's "Cassie" and he's usually "sweetheart" or "lovey".

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

He "moves into"/spends most of his time at her little hippie hobbit hole, so nothing matches, tapestries everywhere, Interesting™ colour schemes, fuckin...crystals and tarot cards and witchy shit everywhere. They both have to make some compromises ("You don't bug me about making the bed and I won't play the banjo in the shower")

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Very inappropriate to talk about at parties.

He's a Christmas grouch, but he did get two days off work, so they basically spent the entire time eating, fucking or fast asleep.

what their names are in each other’s phones

She's just "Cassie" but that makes her one of the few people in his phone not to be "Firstname Lastname". He's "SP".

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They can never really make plans for set days or times because of his incredibly erratic work schedule, but they make time every week to just spend time together. Unless the world is ending, which it usually does at least once a year.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

She falls asleep first at a sensible hour, and wakes up when he gets in. If she sleeps through him coming home, he'll stay up for an hour or two to work on a case, but if he wakes her, he'll go straight to bed and she'll go back to sleep with him holding her.

After the Night of Knives, she gets very anxious and stressed about being alone, especially when she hears the door open. So he'll call and wake her when he's leaving the Sanctuary, so that she knows to expect him home, and he's at the end of the phone any time she wants to get hold of him.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

He's the big spoon like 70% of the time, but she's not opposed to letting him be the little spoon at all. Even the strongest general sometimes needs a good snuggle.

who hogs the bathroom

Cassie likes to take a book into the bath and spend hours in there. He'll come in and out as he pleases and sometimes do her hair for her or swipe bubbles on her nose.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Skug. This is, apparently, one of the greatest benefits to having him around all the time. He's glad she's comfortable enough with him to be honest that she's using him for his spider removal skills.

#skulduggery pleasant #sp headcanons #cassdug #long post

12 notes · View notes

obsidianfr3sk · 4 years ago

Text

true colors

@renegadesnet event 10: pride

↪ [ “But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things. Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.” ]

Summary: Two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two. The biggest pride flags he could find.

AO3

Hello, friends!! I hope you’ve been having an excellent pride month and have been eating a lot rainbow cake and pissing off a lot of conservatives with the mere fact of your wonderful existence:’) As my contribution to this month and the event organized by @renegadesnet, I decided to write a fic focused on my favorite gay dads and their sons (bc I’m me, and you should have seen this coming.)

Before you read, I want to give a trigger warning: at the start of a fic I talk about a homophobic attack, which is not graphic or violent per se (it’s someone in the middle of the night taking away the flag they put outiside the house), and I do discuss about internalized homophobia during some parts of the story. If you read it and are sensitive to this kind of stuff, proceed with caution and take care of yourself <3

Also, this entry is a collaboration with my talented mother @healing-winston-pratt, who is going to be uploading some fanart of this in a near future, so keep an eye on that👀 she’s the best skjhkjds thank you for accepting to collaborate, I feel this is a great bonding activity and I hope we can do this more often✨

I need to update my tag list because a lot of the people who were included are not active as active as they were before/changed their URLs. But I’m going to tag @the-wee-woo-rita @lackadae @all-weather-is-bad @chiyuki-hiro bc you guys are the only ones who are still active users who I had on my previous tag list lol

With that said, I hope you enjoy this fic. I think that despite the angsty parts, it came out really fluffy and domestic, it was fun to write. And to all my queer silbings who are reading this: I am very proud of you.

But I see your true colors shining through.

I see your true colors, and that's why I love you.

So don't be afraid to let them show.

Your true colors,

true colors are beautiful like a rainbow

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know he was gay.

There was a time when he didn’t know he was gay, of course. He was probably too young to even comprehend the meaning behind that word. And there was also a moment in his life when he felt embarrassed about it, and sad, and angry, and really, really scared, and probably thought that no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be happy living the life he wanted to live.

That the pain was never going to end. That he was going to be miserable for the rest of his existence, and that maybe, there was no point in existing if he was going to stay like that until the day he died.

But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things.

Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.

That was the reason why, the first year after the Day of Triumph, he told Hugh they should get a rainbow flag for their house. They went to one of the first stores that opened at the mall (that had just been remodeled after twenty years of being abandoned) and bought one at a not so affordable price. Simon offered himself to install it on one of the fence pillars and had to spend thirty minutes listening to Hugh telling him that maybe he should let him do it, that the ladder Kasumi had lent them was ratty, and that Simon was going to fall.

Fortunately, Simon didn’t. He did almost fall, though, when he was about to pass out from stress because seeing Hugh getting all anxious, made Adrian cry and he started to basically beg him to come down, given that now he was convinced he was going to fall, and hearing his dad saying “Look what you’ve done to the kid, Simon” didn’t help at all to make Adrian (or Simon) feel better.

That night, there was a thunderstorm and Adrian used it as an excuse to sleep on their bed. As soon as he cried himself to sleep, two hours later, after their dads did everything in their power to calm him down, hugging him, giving him kisses, and assuring him his aunt Tamaya wasn’t going to let the storm hurt them, Simon raised his hand to high-five Hugh and tell him that they were amazing parents, just to realize he was already asleep. Simon silently judged him for sleeping so soundly while his son was having a crisis instead of sleeping.

When he woke up (at five in the morning) Adrian was looking out their window, with the Baby Indomitable blanket on his shoulders. The sky was still cloudy, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Darling, what are you doing?,” Simon told him. “Today’s Sunday. Let your daddy and I get some more sleep—”

“The storm took our flag,” Adrian blurred out.

Hugh was already awake too. “What?”

“You said the storm wasn’t going to hurt us,” Adrian said, turning around to see them, “but the storm took our flag.”

Simon got out of bed, looked through the window...

And, yes, the flag was completely gone.

But for some reason, Simon knew it hadn’t been the storm.

“Why would the storm do something like this?” Adrian asked.

Simon didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, Hugh did.

“Because the storm is homophobic, son.”

Adrian laughed out loud and then asked his dads if they could have pancakes for breakfast. He had already forgotten about the storm and the flag.

They didn’t. Neither of them ever forgot about it.

While Simon and Adrian ate their pancakes, Hugh went to his office because, according to him, he needed to check something. When Adrian finished his breakfast and went back to his dads’ room to watch TV, Simon stayed in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and Hugh finally came downstairs. He was pretty quiet, and Simon thought that it probably was because he had told him to eat the burnt pancakes he didn’t dare to throw away, but after he finished them all, he said:

“I lied.”

Simon threw a glance at him. “When did you lie?”

“When I said the storm was homophobic,” Hugh answered.

“Well, of course, you lied, love. Storms don’t have strong political opinions about gay people.”

Hugh didn’t laugh. “What I mean is— that it wasn’t the storm.”

Every joke Simon’s brain could come up with disappeared at that moment. So he continued doing the dishes, and Hugh, thinking he hadn’t made himself clear, continued talking.

“It was someone else. It was a person. I saw them on—”

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “I know. I’ve always known.”

But even if Simon knew, he still told Hugh to show him the footage because four eyes were better than two (especially considering that the owner of those first two eyes needed to wear glasses). It was all useless, though; the storm made the image all blurry, and the only thing they could see was someone taking it and running away in the middle of the night.

Simon wanted to think that it was just some dumb teen whose friends had challenged him to do it. But when it came to things like those one never really knew.

On Monday, they had promised Adrian to take him to the park that was a few blocks away so they could teach him how to fly a kite, but the thought of going out made him feel as if something bad was going to happen to them if they did, so Simon told Adrian that he and Hugh were feeling sick and that they would stay in their room to get some rest. Adrian asked them if they minded that he stayed there too because he was in the middle of watching a movie he had never seen before.

“Only if we can watch it with you,” Simon answered.

It was a weird day to be alive. They really just stayed there, watching silly cartoons with their kid and listening to him ranting about the weird proportions those characters had.

During the afternoon, Adrian told them he was hungry, so Simon went downstairs to look for something they could eat. He was thinking that maybe they should order something from that Chinese restaurant Tamaya had taken him the other day, when Hugh entered the kitchen and told him Adrian had asked him if he could bring him water.

Simon felt his hands were trembling while he looked inside his wallet for the paper where he had written the restaurant’s phone number.

“Do you want to get another flag?” Hugh asked him.

And something hurt.

Something hurt inside of him. Something started to cry, and to scream, and to flicker, trying to make him invisible to the world.

And it told him, the same way Adrian had told him he was hungry, that someone had taken him by surprise and made a deep cut on his chest.

But Simon didn’t allow it to come out.

He just said: “No.”

And Hugh answered him: “Me neither.”

He called the Chinese restaurant to order some food, while Simon went to their room with Adrian again and cuddled with him, trying to tend to the wounds of that something that was bleeding out inside of him.

Little Simon was crying, and screaming, and flickering, and needed adult Simon to take care of him.

The next day, they talked about the incident with the rest of the Council during their lunch break. It was one of those few occasions the six of them were together in the same room during their work hours. Tamaya was furious about the flag situation. She ranted for a good five minutes without anyone interrupting her about how fucking horrible people were and that she was going to find that little piece of shit and cut his hands off. Kasumi nodded in approval while drinking some horchata she had bought for herself, probably thinking about how to ask Tamaya to let her join her revolution (something she didn’t need to do, since Tamaya always included Kasumi in everything she did). Evander, on the other hand, was very quiet, something that made him feel a little bit relieved because he was not a sensitive person and Simon didn’t want him to... Evander the situation.

He didn’t say anything insensitive that day, though.

In fact, he said something… helpful, even.

“What about a flag made of light?”

Hugh rubbed his eyes and Simon knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

Because he said that phrase constantly.

“Shut the fuck up, Evander.”

But Evander didn’t shut up. “Dude, think about it. No one would be able to take down a flag made of light.”

And everyone realized that, now, it was not only one of those strange occasions when the six of them got together to have lunch during their work hours; it was also one of those strange occasions when Evander had an idea that was actually good.

So after spending another hour discussing how they were going to make it work, they decided they were going to lit up the building in rainbow-colored lights.

Tamaya and Hugh were the ones in charge of almost all the operation because Evander said he had already given them the idea, so he didn’t need to do anything else (and then got mad at Hugh when he told the media he was the one who came up with it). Kasumi helped them, but was especially insistent about putting a trans pride flag somewhere in the building, and after they agreed with her, she personally hung it on the main entrance of Headquarters.

They started turning the lights on each night of June since that yeat.

Hugh and Simon still didn’t get a flag. Three nights after they told their friends about what had happened during the thunderstorm, Simon was woken up by the sound of someone crashing against the trash cans and almost jumped out of the window with his dagger on hand to slay whoever was trying to break into their house, but when he peeked out to see what was going on, he realized the “robber” was Kasumi, who had put a bunch of small pride flags on some pots they kept on their porch and started crying as soon as she realized Simon was watching her, not because she was upset the surprise she had for them had been ruined, but because now she was covered in trash.

(That week was like a sign Georgie was sending them from the afterlife to tell them they needed to install a better security system.)

Those were the only flags they kept around the house. They were small and discreet, and, most importantly, no one had taken them away. Why? Well— because they listened to Georgie’s sign and installed a better security system. Not because there weren’t any more homophobes out there who were willing to do it.

Until that moment, those flags (the little ones Kasumi had given them in a rather unconventional way and the one made of light that Evander had come up with) had been more than enough for them. But, two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two.

The biggest pride flags he could find.

***

That was the reason why, after having pancakes for breakfast (because it had rained during the night), he took the car, took the other three people living in that house with him, and after he was able to read the map, they arrived at a store that, among other things, sold flags like the ones they were looking for.

“I want one too,” Adrian told them when they were at the flag section of the store. “For my room, you know. And I want to get ones for Danna and Nova because I don’t think they have any. They would’ve told me.”

Usually, when Adrian asked for something Simon hadn’t agreed to buy him, like some candy, an action figure, or a pair of sneakers, he would turn around and ask him if he had the money to buy any of those things himself, which would anger him so much he would stop wanting that certain thing.

But that day, he felt like buying them everything they wanted. As if money grew on trees (something he always told his kids didn’t happen.)

“Of course, darling,” he answered, “get them everything you want. It’s pride month.”

“It’s May 31th,” Max said. He was inside the shopping cart Hugh had grabbed the second they entered. It was something he always did, even if they weren’t going to buy a lot of things because, according to him, it felt weird and wrong not to.

“It’s almost pride month,” he corrected himself.

“So can I get something for Nova?” Adrian asked again, just to make sure.

“You can get something for Nova,” Hugh assured him, smiling a little bit.

Adrian quickly turned around and started looking for the flag he wanted while texting Nova about something Simon couldn’t read (not like he was trying to, anyway).

After making sure Adrian stayed on the same aisle as them, they started walking around, gazing at the flags and posters available. Simon felt pretty progressive because he was able to name every single sexuality and gender they were supposed to represent. He imagined Hugh was doing the same thing, but with a lot more difficulty than him. He kept his eyes fixated on each flag longer than Simon did, as if he were trying to remember what they meant, and when he did, he pushed the cart (with Max still inside of it, playing a game on Hugh’s phone because he had forgotten his tablet at home), and the cycle began again.

But suddenly, Simon saw ones that he didn’t recognize.

After three seconds of standing in front of those little flags, someone hit him in the butt with their cart. He turned around immediately, ready to say a really threatening “Hey” to whoever had done it.

Hugh was the only other person who was there. He had been the one who had hit him with the cart.

Suddenly, Simon felt a little bit stupid for thinking someone else had done it.

The two of them maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds until Hugh started looking at his own hands grabbing the cart’s handle.

“Simon.” Before Simon could ask him what happened, he added, with a deep voice: “Move.”

Simon didn’t move. Instead, he hit the cart with his hips, just out of spite. Hugh hit him again with it, making Simon feel the unexpected need to grab the cart with his two hands and use his own weapon against him, but Max was there and they couldn’t act like kids in front of him. So he just hit the cart with his hips again, a little bit harder than the first time, and left it there.

He realized he was just going to be wasting his time asking Hugh if he knew what that flag was supposed to represent.

“Cherub,” he called Max. “Do you recognize this flag?”

Max looked up from the screen. He usually didn’t like it when he called him “cherub” in public, but this time, he didn’t seem mad about it. “Um… no? Ask Adrian—” and continued playing.

Adrian came back with a basket full of pins, and for a second, Simon almost asked him if he really was that naive to believe he was actually going to pay for all of them. But then, he realized that it was only the basket where they kept all of the pins they sold and that Adrian had taken it to show them to them.

“Look, they have so many pins here—” he started taking random pins “—this is the aromantic flag… this is the genderfluid flag—”

“Interesting,” Hugh interrupted him, “but which flag is that one?” and pointed at the one Simon didn’t recognize.

Max took a random pin from the basket and started looking at it with curiosity. Adrian almost didn’t pay attention to it, and after a few seconds, he said: “That one’s yours.”

Simon frowned and took one. It was a handheld flag with green and blue stripes, with a white one in the middle. He touched the polyester with his fingertips as if that was going to give him the ability to communicate with it.

“But we don’t have a flag,” Hugh told Adrian. “I’ve heard of the lesbian fl—”

Adrian took a pin of the lesbian flag. “This one.”

“Yeah— but gay men don’t have one.”

“The rainbow is ours,” Simon said, without taking his eyes away from the blue and green flag he was holding. “Like, it’s for all queer people.”

Hugh directed his attention to Adrian again. “You’re messing with us.”

“I do mess with you a lot,” Adrian admitted, “but this time I’m not because if I do and you get mad, you won’t buy me all the stuff I want to get.”

“Huh.”

Simon knew Adrian and Max were a lot of things, but "dumb" wasn't one of those. And Adrian was especially intelligent when it came to convincing his parents to buy him things.

So he decided to believe him.

“Well, I like it,” he said. Then, he asked Hugh: “Do you like it?”

Hugh grabbed one and observed it for a while. “I like that it has blue on it,” he finally answered, nodding a little bit.

Simon noticed Max was spacing out while playing with the pin he had taken, so he waved the flag on his face, making him laugh and sneeze because the damn thing had a lot of invisible dust Simon didn't notice at first.

“Oh, sh—”

“You know? Maybe we should get two of these,” Hugh said, waving it too, but in his case, not on the face of one of their kids. “For our offices.”

“Matching flags, very romantic.”

Max rubbed his nose. “Why don't you get a big one for the house?”

Simon quickly started to look everywhere on that aisle, and he saw a lot of big versions of the flags he had recognized before (and some of the ones Adrian had mentioned), but there were no gay flags in sight.

“Maybe next year, I guess,” he shrugged. “I don't think they have them here yet.”

He grabbed two of the rainbow flags that were there, inside their respective plastic bags, gave them to Max, and he put them on his lap, still holding that pin. Simon made a quick mental note to remind his future self they needed to pay for that (he didn’t know if it had to with the fact that Max had been spending a lot of time with Maggie, Nova’s sister, but he had developed this weird habit of stealing the most random objects one could think of. Luckily, he limited himself to stealing things from his dads and, one time, from a store.) (Kids went through weird phases when they were Max’s age.)

(Because… it was a phase, right?)

Adrian received a text. “Danna says that she already has a flag, so I’m getting her a pin,” he said after reading it. “And Nova says she wants one too.” Then, his whole face lit up. “And I could get one too so we match.”

“Copycat,” Simon accused him, jokingly. “Your dad and I got matching flags, and now you want to get matching pins with your girlfriend.”

Hugh shook his head, disappointed. “I cannot believe you have betrayed your own family like this.”

They stayed at the store another 30 minutes to buy some other things they needed for the house, and from time to time, when he or Hugh grabbed something, they pretended they didn’t see Adrian and said: “Um, but the copycat may be listening” to a point he told them to stop, and refused to forgive them until they agreed to buy him the flag he didn’t intend to get anymore, but now was going to.

He got the last bisexual flag there was at that store.

***

The first time the four of them were together in their room was last June. Something went wrong with the A/C system of the entire house and the only room where one could stay without having a heatstroke was theirs because their A/C hadn’t broken down for some reason. Adrian and Max were sleeping on the air mattress until Simon (who hadn’t been able to sleep lately) heard that one of them woke up and asked Hugh something. He sat down on the bed, at the same time Hugh moved a little bit to allow Adrian to lay down between the two of them.

Then, in the middle of the dark, his eyes met Max’s.

He looked tiny. Young. Pretty young.

And far away.

Simon couldn’t remember who did it. He didn’t remember who talked that night. It could have been him, even. But he was sure that, at that moment, someone whispered:

“Get in here, kid.”

And Max obeyed. He crawled, raised his arms towards them, and Hugh grabbed him carefully by the collar of his shirt and placed him between him and Adrian.

It was a peaceful night. The bed was big enough for the four of them, and Simon was able to sleep and actually rest for the first time in weeks.

At least until their A/C turned off with a weird sound, and the four of them woke up at the same time, sweaty, uncomfortable, and almost at 11 AM, not because they weren’t necessarily willing to stay there longer, but because the heat was starting to get unbearable and suddenly the bed was too small for three adults and a little kid that was not that little anymore.

“This isn’t a room, this is a— a freaking oven,” Hugh said, while Adrian tried to push him out of bed to get the hell out of there and seek comfort on the air mattress he had abandoned in the middle of the night.

“And we are the... cookies,” Max giggled.

“The turkey,” Simon added.

Max turned around. His whole face was red and his hair was a little bit wet. “The lasagna.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks; a discreet way to check if he had a fever. “The cake.”

“The ham.”

“The—”

“Dad. Move.”

Later that day, Simon called someone to fix the A/C, and that was the end of the story.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian wanted to hang his flag as soon as possible, on one of his room��s walls, but Simon insisted that they should iron it first so it looked nicer. Hugh said that he was planning on ironing the ones they had bought for the house and offered Adrian to do the same with his, but when he insinuated that he didn’t trust him enough not to mess up his flag the same way he had messed up his favorite shirt (the one he wanted to wear to take Nova to a nice place during her birthday), Hugh reminded him that the only reason he kept doing that for him was that Adrian didn’t know how to iron yet, and decided that he was going to use that moment as a teaching opportunity. Max made the mistake of laughing at his brother when he thought no one was paying attention to him, but Adrian was and dragged Max into the teaching opportunity with him.

Simon joined too. Just because.

And suddenly, the four of them were in their room again.

With the A/C on, of course.

He didn't know if Hugh had noticed, but he had been so invested in his own explanation, that after he finished ironing the two rainbow flags, he started ironing Adrian’s without realizing it. Adrian, instead of giving up and stop pretending he was paying attention, was looking, kind of mesmerized, how he opened the bag of his blue, purple, and magenta flag, and proceeded to put it on the ironing board, now telling him that when Georgie had tried to teach him how to iron his clothes, she accidentally burnt Evander.

Simon was half-listening to the story, half-listening to the music video that Max was watching on the TV. He was sitting on a big and old ottoman they had bought a long time ago but had never found the perfect place to put it and just stayed there for years until they forgot about it. Max was in front of him, sitting on the floor and resting his back on the ottoman, while he covered his blond hair with small butterfly hair clips he had found at the store and bought just because he thought they were cute (who knows, maybe Nova wanted them for Maggie, or Kasumi could use them for herself, she loved them when she was little).

When all the hair clips were on Max's hair, he took a small mirror they kept in the bathroom (but Simon borrowed it for a minute) and gave it to him so he could see the final result.

“Look at me,” Max exclaimed, laughing. “I look so pretty.”

Simon grabbed one of the hair clips and pulled it a little. “Butterfly hair clips are a popular trend this time of the year.”

“This is definitely going to make me the most popular kid in the playground.”

“Definitely.”

He leaned forward to start taking the butterfly hair clips off Max's hair and was putting them on Max’s open hand when he noticed that he hadn’t let go of the pin they bought him at the store.

(Simon did remember to pay for the thing, but if he hadn’t done it, Max wouldn’t have said anything.)

“That was really nice of you,” Simon said.

Max looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Getting a rainbow pin—” he took his other hand and started putting the hair clips on it so none of them would get lost “—to show support.”

Max didn't say anything and Simon continued with what he was doing. After the music video finished, and another one started playing, Hugh gave Adrian his flag and told him he could go and hang it in his room, and as soon as Max heard that too, he gave Simon the hair clips and followed his brother out of the room, asking him if he could help him with it.

Simon, after realizing the bag where the hair clips came in had been destroyed by Max punching holes in it with the pin, took one of the empty pill bottles he kept in his drawers and put them there.

He closed the pill bottle and realized Hugh had been gazing at him during all this time, slightly leaning on the ironing board. “What?”

“That’s my pill bottle, Si,” he told him.

“Ah—” Simon pressed his lips “—can I have it?”

“No.” Hugh smiled at him. “Yes, you can.”

“So funny. Come here—” and patted the bed mattress.

Hugh, being extremely careful not to touch the flags he just ironed, lied on the bed and sighed.

“Do you want me to play with your hair?” Simon asked him with a soft voice.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

After a while of the two of them just being silent, he said, “Hey… I heard what you told Max, by the way.”

“The butterfly hair clips trend?”

“The pin thing.”

“What about it?”

Hugh opened his eyes, just a little bit. “Just don't tell Max I told you, all right? Because he told me he wouldn't tell anyone else until he was sure, but… I think it's important the two of us know,” he explained.

Simon was starting to feel his palms get a little bit sweaty. “Okay— but just tell me, please.”

He checked overhearing their conversation one last time, and that the kids were still at Adrian's room. “Max told me a couple of days ago that he has been thinking about… what he likes.”

He stopped playing with his hair for a second. But then, he continued.

It was his way of coping with the feeling of his stomach twisting inside of him. “What he likes?” Hugh nodded again. “Huh. And has he— does he has an idea or—”

“No, he doesn't,” Hugh answered. “He just knows that he doesn't like girls. Or that's what he told me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “That sounds like a lot of things. Not liking girls.”

Hugh scoffed too. “That's what I told him. And that he can take all the time he needs to figure it out. Because he can—”

“Yes. Yes, of course, he can,” Simon assured, with determination. “Life is longer than we think it is.”

They stayed silent again. And Simon couldn’t help but feel relive inside his head the moment he called Max an ally, feeling his stomach twisting even more at every second it passed.

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

His palms started to sweat again. “Because I called him an ally.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Hugh repeated.

But Simon didn’t listen. “Si.”

Then, Hugh grabbed him carefully by the wrist, and, a little bit surprised, Simon tilted his head. Hugh usually didn't interrupt him when he was playing with his hair.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” he deadpanned

Simon knew him well enough to know he wasn’t trying to be rude. It was just his way of asking things. Especially when he was genuinely worried and didn’t think about modulating his tone so it It fitted the situation better.

He sighed. Because he didn’t want to lie to him. “I assumed Max was straight.”

As soon as he said it, he realized how silly it had sounded phrased like that. But he also noticed his voice had broken and he had to put a hand on his mouth so he didn’t start crying.

And Hugh, instead of saying the encouraging phrase he expected him to say…

He smiled.

And for some reason, that made him want to cry even more. “Ew, why are you smiling?” he asked.

Hugh took his time to answer him. “Oh, it’s nothing. I think I'm just… happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Hugh smiled more. “I know, love, I know… It's just one of those things…” he tried to find the right words this time. “One of those things I didn't think we were going to go through together,” he kept saying. “Like… we're going to be together when Max finally discovers who he really is. Like we did with Adrian. And like other people did with us. And that makes me happy.”

Simon wanted to tell him to shut up and let him cry and be dramatic as much as he wanted because he considered he deserved it. But he tried to do it, the only thing that could come out of his lips was almost imperceptible “Yeah…” and then, a small tear started running down his face. Hugh quickly noticed this and wiped it away with his finger. Simon scoffed and looked away, rubbing his nose.

“Hey…” and he moved aside so Simon could lay beside him.

The space they had was a little too small but he didn’t mind because now he had an excuse to be closer to him.

And there it was again. Little Simon. Little Simon was there again with them.

Just that this time he wasn’t crying, or screaming, or even flickering. He was just… existing.

And all he wanted to do was to exist.

When Hugh held him that way, sometimes he felt as if it was the first time he did it. Which made Simon (and the sad, angry and scared part of Simon) wonder if there was a sad, angry and scared part of Hugh that also craved that comfort and validation, and if it was the one who hugged that younger version of Simon until they convinced each other that everything was fine.

That there was nothing wrong with neither of them.

Because sometimes it was as if people didn’t remind them that as many times as they needed. So the only option they had was to be there for the other, and tell him that it was okay to hug, to kiss, to touch, and to share until the one who was talking ended up convincing both of them.

Love wasn’t temporary.

And their love was as powerful as they wanted it to be.

Those younger versions of themselves wanted to stay like that forever every single time. But their adult versions knew they couldn’t do it because they had other responsibilities that they needed to attend.

Installing those two pride flags that were next to them, for example.

Their younger versions were excited to do that, but they also asked them if they could rest together a little bit longer. And neither of them had the heart to tell them no.

Hugh started to play with a lock of Simon’s hair. “We’ll be there to catch him.”

He knew he wasn’t talking about either of them. Even if, with his eyes closed, he could see little Hugh and little Simon holding each other’s hands and throwing themselves into the world, a little less sad, and angry, and scared than before, without being sure if there was going to be someone down there to catch them if everything went wrong.

“Together.”

And Simon agreed. “Together.”

***

“He’s going to fall.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Hugh told Max. “I’m here.”

“But what if—”

“Done,” Simon announced before Max could even finish his sentence. “Now, let’s just hope these things stay there as long as possible, because this ladder makes me anxious. I was trembling while putting the first flag.”

Max clicked his tongue. “It’s a windy day. The wind could have pushed the ladder or something.”

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Take my hand.”

Simon went down the ladder without letting go of his hand. Then, while Hugh took it and quickly went inside the garage to put it there, Adrian pricked his little brother up with his own rainbow flag pin, and in response, Max punched him in the stomach with all his might (which wasn’t that much). Adrian laughed and pretended to be hurt, but immediately asked him if he wanted him to help him with his pin.

Simon noticed that Adrian had already put his pin of the bisexual flag on his clothes, and watching him pull Max a little bit closer so he didn’t prink him again (now by accident), while Max gazed at his hands, trying to memorize his movements so he could do the same thing when he wanted to wear that pin again, made his mouth curved into a smile.

When his husband came back from the garage, he thought he was going to tell them to stop blocking the sidewalk and get in the house so they could continue with their day. But instead of doing that, he walked towards them and looked at their waving flags, flying on their mansion for the first time in years.

Adrian grabbed Max by the waist and carried him on his shoulders so he could have a better view. And he realized that there would be a day when they would throw themselves into the world completely alone, without knowing how people were going to act and aware that two of them were brave enough to take whatever blows that they were going to throw at them.

But they weren’t going to do it alone. Because Hugh, Simon, and their hurting parts weren’t going to spend a day without reminding them that they were going to be there, ready to catch them every single time they needed it.

Simon started to look for Hugh’s hand just to realize, Hugh was already looking for his too, and when they found each other, he couldn’t contain himself and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Hugh smiled and kissed him back, this time, on the corner of his lip.

Simon felt proud of what they were.

He was really proud.

And he hoped they were proud too.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #adrian everhart #max everhart #everhart-westwood family #the warden and the captain are sitting in a tree #obsi's writs #i should get an oscar for the homophobic storm joke

18 notes · View notes

mxchellesworld · 4 years ago

Text

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: emotions of subdrop, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation, use of toys, overstimulation

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

Waking up you felt like a corpse rising out of its grave. It didn't seem like yesterday's scene was taxing on your body for you to feel so sore. Maybe it was the fact your orgasm came from two sets of hands compared to your own. Sitting up you noticed the bed was empty. You rubbed your eyes and stretched out your back before making your way down the hall.

The smell of coffee and slightly burnt toast filled your senses. The first thing you saw was your dress folded neatly with your boots and purse on top of it. You internally groaned at how much of a slob you probably seemed to be.

"Hey look who's awake," Cat called, making you turn your head.

You gave her a small smile making your way over to their kitchen table. She took sips out of her coffee while Spencer was over by the stove making what looked like scrambled eggs.

"Come sit," she said, patting the chair next to her.

"How long have you guys been up?" you asked as you sat down.

"Like 45 minutes," Spencer spoke from behind you.

He walked over with two plates of food, setting them in front of you and Cat.

"You guys could have woken me up. I know you probably want me out of your hair. And I'm sorry for leaving my stuff everywhere last night," you said looking between the both of them.

You felt a sense of doubt wash over you. You couldn't explain the feeling but it was as if all your worries just planted themselves on your shoulders. The same feeling came over you last night but you fell asleep so fast you didn't have time to process everything. Now that you were awake and alert it was like everything was hitting you at once.

They shared a look sensing your worries. Spencer turned the stove off and sat on the seat across from the both of you. Cat took your hand in hers as she started talking, "Y/n do you know what a subdrop is?"

You shook your head no in response.

"A subdrop is when after a scene the submissive starts to feel sadness or maybe a bit melancholy. All the endorphins which were rushing through you are slowly leaving your system, hence the term drop, making you feel this way. Dominates can feel this way after a scene as well,” Spencer explained.

You stayed silent taking in the information. Cat's thumb rubbing over the back of your hand shook you out of your thoughts.

"Do you wanna talk about how you're feeling. Since this is all new it's probably best to let everything out and we can walk you through it," she said with a soft tone.

"Isn't that breaking a rule?" you asked quietly, "Last night you said no relationship type stuff.. I just," you took a pause, "I don't know I feel like you don't have to care about how I feel."

"As your dominants it's our job to care about how you feel, especially during a drop or if you happen to slip into subspace." Spencer said looking into your eyes. His caramel orbs trying their best to deepen the message of his words.

Cat put a strand of hair behind your ear. Unlike last night, she wasn't in her dominant headspace. The action was soft and comforting instead of teasingly trying to gain a reaction.

"This might not be a normal relationship but I promise you that your emotions take priority over sex. Alright," she said, searching your eyes.

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. You scoffed and let out a little laugh as you swiped them away, "Sorry I don't know why I'm so emotional. Thank you, that uh means a lot," you said looking at Cat then Spencer.

You all shared a silent moment before Spencer spoke again, "Why don't we eat then spend the day in bed, unless you have any plans," he asked.

"No, that sounds good," you said, more excited. After their reassurance you felt the glumness of the morning slowly slip away. You spent the time eating and making small talk. Cat poking fun at Spencer for always seeming to burn the toast. It was interesting to see them in such a peaceful element, it was as if the power they held last night had slipped away and they were nothing but literature nerds.

The three of you made your way back to their fluffy bed. Cat had picked up the remote to the large television which hung in front of you. She put on a baking show and settled in the sheets. One arm under a pillow and the other was in her mouth as she bit her nails. Spencer was on the other side of you and picked up a book that was on the nightstand.

You rested on your side facing Cat. The positions mimicked how you slept the night before. You watched as she laughed when people would get frustrated or make small comments on each person's decorating skills. Turning around you started to focus on Spencer. The way his eyes quickly darted across the page soaking up the printed words. His fingers following along and trailing down the page. Your mind drifted to the way they pumped inside you and you bit your lip to stifle a whimper.

Instead you turned back to face the television, crossing your legs and letting your mind drift back to the cake building on the screen.

By the end of the episode you were feeling antsy. The warmth of them surrounding you shot straight to your core. Cat was holding onto your arm and leaning into your neck. It was funny to see how she seemed needy, when in reality you knew she could have you on your knees with just one look. Spencer had finished his book and was resting behind you. His arm splayed across your middle as his front was completely pressed against your back.

You tried to subtly shift, moving your hips back and forth to relieve the pressure on your core. Your attempts were cut short by a voice in your ear.

"You better stop that if you want to be able to sit tomorrow princess," Spencer gritted in your ear.

You truly thought about taking that as a warning but something within you wanted to push his buttons. Instead you started to shift more, grinding your ass against his length. His strong hand gripped your hips forcing you to stop.

"Get up," he said lowly.

"You should've listened to his warning angel," Cat said with mockingly.

Stepping off the bed Spencer wasted no time in bending you over the edge. He pulled the shirt out of the way and let his hand rub over your behind. You were pretty sure your panties were still somewhere in Cat's coat. The thought was cut off by a smack landing on the center of your ass.

"I want you to count each one and thank me," Spencer said darkly followed by another smack.

"Two, thank you Sir," you said breathlessly.

He continued the punishment, landing hard swat after swat on your burning behind. You looked up at Cat hoping she would make him stop in an act of mercy. However there was no such luck.

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one who decided to be a greedy little whore. Now take your punishment like a good girl," Cat said looking back at her show.

You mewled at how little she cared about what was going on to her left. You felt the tears start forming in your eyes. You moaned after each continued smack. Once he got to ten he rubbed your sore behind and pulled your shirt back down. He turned you around and made you sit on the edge of the bed.

"What's your color princess?" he asked.

"Green Sir," you replied with a sniffle.

"Good girl. You took your punishment so well. Too bad it's over you look so pretty with tears in your eyes" Spencer said, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

"Thank you Sir," you spoke up.

"Thank you Sir," Cat mimicked from behind you, "How pathetic. If you want to act greedy then you're gonna be treated like the little slut you are."

She pulled you by your arms to the center of the bed. In no time she had the shirt you had on over your head and tossed to the floor. She spread your legs and dipped her hand into your folds.

"You're already dripping from a little spanking," she laughed leaning in close to your face, "taste yourself."

She rubbed her soaked fingers on your lips before slipping them into your mouth. You held eye contact with her as you hollowed your cheeks around her digits. She pulled them out and landed a smack on your cheek, making you moan at the impact.

"Aw did you hear that Spence? Looks like we have a filthy little pain slut on our hands," she said looking over at Spencer who was admiring his girlfriend on top of your writhing form.

You let out whimpers at her words. They were dripping with venom but you loved the poison flowing through your veins.

"Tell your Mistress what you want."

You gulped before responding, "I want Sir's cock, please! I want him to fuck my slutty pussy." You felt your cheeks heat up at how desperate you sounded. But at this point you didn't even care.

You looked over at Spencer who was hard in his sweatpants, the large bulge begging to escape its confines. You silently begged him with your eyes.

Cat’s fingers slipped in your tight heat making you arch your back at how quickly she was able to find your sweet spot. Your eyes squeezed closed and your mouth dropped in a silent scream from the overwhelming pleasure. Cat’s unoccupied hand went to your jaw to make you look at her.

“Am I not good enough for you angel? Are my fingers not enough that you need to beg for his cock like a whore?” Cat said leaning in inches away from your face.

“N-no Mistress. Fuck you’re so p-perfect. I’m sorry!” you tried to say in between breathy moans.

You tried to turn your head to get a sight of Spencer who was now tugging on his hard cock but Cat’s hard grip stopped you.

“Don’t look at him. You’re gonna look right into my eyes as you cum on my fingers.”

She moved her thumb in quick circles over your aching clit. The added pleasure along with her skilled fingers were enough to make you meet your end. You came with a silent scream as your legs trembled around her frame. She pulled her fingers out of you and motioned for Spencer to come over.

He made his way on the bed and Cat turned to face him, rubbing your release on his lips before sticking her fingers in his mouth. You swore you died and went to heaven. That was the hottest thing you have ever seen. You heard him moan around her fingers before she slipped them out.

“Go ahead Spencer, give our little slut what she wants,” Cat said demandingly.

He wasted no time in settling between your legs. You watched as Cat got off from her bed and walked into the closet. You tried to get up on your elbows and looked at Spencer questioningly. Was she upset? I mean you’d be upset too if someone else was begging to fuck your boyfriend.

Spencer sensed your worries and pushed you back on the sheets, “Don’t worry she’s not upset or anything. She’ll be back.”

You nodded your head reluctantly.

“Color princess,” He asked swiping the tip of his cock over your folds.

“Very green Sir,” you mewled out.

Spencer aligned himself with your entrance and slipped in inch by inch. You cursed at the stretch, you could feel every vein along your walls. Once he was all the way in he looked in your eyes for any sign that you were uncomfortable. You gave him a nod to signal he could start moving. He started off with slow strokes for you to get used to his size. It was agonizing how much pleasure you felt but you needed him to go faster.

“Please go faster Sir,” you whined out.

“You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Is that what my princess wants?” he cooed lowly at you.

You frantically nodded and he wasted no time in diving back in. His quick strokes were driving you crazy. Each one hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were a mess of loud whines as the knot in your tummy was building up again.

He dropped to his forearms, caging you in under him. One of his hands moved up your chest and around your throat. You whined out his title and shifted your hips trying to meet each thrust.

You heard the closet door shut and turned your head to see Cat walk out. Your eyes widened at the large toy attached to her hips. She walked to the edge of the bed and pulled you by the hair to face her.

“You’re gonna suck my cock and get it nice and wet for when I fuck you,” She left no time for you to answer and brought the toy to your lips.

You moaned around it as she used her hand to bob your head up and down.

“You gonna cum for me princess? I can feel you’re close,” Spencer gritted in your ear. Cat pulled you off the toy for you to answer him.

“Please can I cum Sir, fuck I’m so close,” you whined and begged.

His hand slipped down to rub on your clit. Quick circles made shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Just a little more and you would explode.

“Cum on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” he said as he groaned, also close to his release.

His words made the knot break and your second orgasm was through you. Your tight pussy squeezing around his cock led him to his end. You felt his warm seed spill inside you. You both sighed as he slowed his motions and slipped out of you.

He rolled off of you and fell to your side. Cat immediately got on the bed, taking his spot and flipped you over, arching your back to her liking.

“Whats your color angel?” she asked softly.

“Green Mistress,” you said wiggling your behind in front of her.

She landed a hard smack on your already red cheeks, “I’m not as nice as Spencer. Your teasing and acting like a slut isn’t gonna slide with me,” she said harshly. The way she slipped back into her dominating voice drove you wild.

She started off with quick thrusts. The sound of her hips smacking against your thighs bounced off the walls. She held your hips with a bruising grasp. You were biting the pillow trying to stifle your noises but she wasn’t having that. She used one of her hands to pull you by your hair.

“No no angel I wanna hear you. Who’s cock is splitting you open like this?”

You all but yelled in response, “Your cock Mistress! I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!”

Being on edge from your last two orgasms you were ready to burst again. You felt Spencer sit up and his fingers pressed against your clit.

“Go on angel, let go for me,” she gritted out.

Your body trembled at her words along with Spencers quick circles. ‘Thank you’s’ and curses left your lips as the pleasure consumed you. She pulled out of you and you fell limp on the bed. You took in deep breathes trying to get the air back that was knocked out of you.

You felt her small hands flip you over and pepper small kisses over your cheeks then finally on your lips. You sat up and looked over at Spencer before pulling him into a kiss as well.

You all broke apart and shared a silent moment of bliss before Cat spoke up.

“I knew that fucker was gonna win,” she said looking back at the show which you had all forgot was still playing.

You snorted and let out a laugh causing them to break out into laughs as well.

“How about a shower then lunch,” Spencer suggested.

He got up to get the water running and you helped Cat out of the strap on. You shared lingering glances until Spencer called that the water was ready. She got up from the bed and held her hand out for you. You interlocked pinkies and made your way to the bathroom where they smothered you in kisses and kind words.

All your worries from earlier were gone. You could definitely get used to this.

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞!!!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #cat adams x reader #cat adams smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #mgg smut #mgg x reader #chellewrites

143 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 4 years ago

Text

Forgetting: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader Kinktober fic, Part of the Prize Buck series

warnings: deepthroating, kinda toxic no one has good coping skills, toys, overstimulation, talking about drugs and relapsing but not actually doing it

When Klaus gets home, he finds you on the bed with tears in your eyes, surrounded by papers you shouldn't be reading. Vanya had given him the heads up, that your research team (including your ex-fiance) had published. Not just anything, but your research. With your name carefully left out of the list of authors and contributors. This is what Klaus was rushing home for, to prevent and protect you from ever seeing this, or at the very least to be there and comfort you when you first discovered it. He knows this has to hurt. It's your entire career’s worth of work changing the field you love without bringing you along with it. Bringing the people that abandoned you along for the ride. It's everyone that shunned you flying on the wings of your work. And of course he knows your ex-fiance had a hand in it. The way the guy stared you down at the bar the one time Klaus saw him in person was enough for him to tell what kind of person he could be. That had to be another twist of the knife for you.

He wants to protect you from it. To be some kind of hero, not like when he was a kid, but a real hero. To save you from the hurt and the pain, though he knows sometimes his protection is futile. He only hopes you know he would shield you from all of this and take the brunt of it if he could.You don't look at him, don't acknowledge his arrival until he begins collecting the nest of papers littered around you. Your eyes are brimmed red with tears and makeup cakes the bags under your eyes, but they're sober eyes. You haven't touched the bottle or the hash in the cabinet, Klaus notices, a decidedly good sign.

“How many years did I work on that?” Holy shit. Your voice is barely over a whisper, sounding not unlike a ghost, and he would know.

“Don't go there,” he urges, trying to sound as firm as he can while still being gentle with you. Klaus shuffles the papers after they are all collected, straightens them like they are to be organized, then unceremoniously drops them on the floor. They bear nothing on your value and only have harm to contribute, so they don't even deserve the place on the table.

“How long?” you repeat, looking more through Klaus than at him.

“Jesus, love. Snap out of it!” more emphatically, grabbing your shoulders this time.

“No,” defiant and destructive, “This is the last thing I had.”

Klaus knows that. The last shreds of who you were before the clinic were gone now. You like your life. The one you have now. You have a little home and a partner that wants what's actually best for you, you have a job that doesn't drive you into the arms of an addiction, you have his family to supplement the one that no longer speaks to you. But the finality of it is like a sword on your neck. Your eyes leave his briefly, darting to the cabinet and back. Anything in there will only make you worse tonight. But instead of moving to get up, you rise to your knees and wrap your hands around his biceps, curling until nails bite crescent moons into his skin.

"Fuck me into the mattress, please I need it,” you beg, and he knows this look. This itch you can't scratch, this fix you can't fix yourself. The look you had when you first met. He knows you need him, and fuck, if you or he have any better options. He concedes, more than willing and happy to be that for you. If he cannot protect you from the things that hurt you, he’ll be the medicine and the treatment that heal you. Another small please dies on your lips as he claims it, swallowing it whole in a kiss. He kisses you further, using the momentum to push your pliant form down onto your back, crawling over you as you go. You're going to let him do whatever he wants to you, you concede.

You trust him, that's love, you trust him to use you and be the stand in for any drug that could take the hurt and emptiness away from you. A true symbiotic relationship, like those sharks with the fish attached, but maybe you're both the shark and you're both the little fish attached. He suckles at your bottom lip, sure to leave it puffy and sore from kissing, leaning and laying his whole weight upon you in something less than a hug but more than an embrace. You want him to peel you apart, layer by layer, fuck you into nothingness and back again. You want him to use you, your body as an idle plaything for his appetite. A means to an end. Klaus leans himself into you, wanting you to feel yourself pressed into the bed, into him. If he covers you in him, you can't cover yourself in all the metaphysical shit you want to cover yourself in. But he has other plans for you tonight. Something to make your mind wander and put the sadness out of your mind. He strips you bare, piece by piece, hands and tongue racing to cover the newly bare skin. But then he stands up, and you openly and unabashedly whine at the loss of contact.

But he shoots you a smile, to smooth away the pout, and reaches into one of the drawers. Of course he would go there tonight. Sneaky fucker always has something kinky up his sleeves. He unceremoniously sheds his clothes before returning to your bed, a bright purple, thick vibrator in his hands. The terminator, as you called it. When he returns to the bed he clasps your hands while transferring the terminator to them, placing a kiss on one of your knuckles before withdrawing and circling around to the other side of the bed where your head was. This was different.

“Fuck yourself with it, stuff it against your clit, do it,” he urges, leaning down your body and grabbing your left ankle, then your right. Lifting them into the air, his arms straight out in front of him to keep them parted and away from your body. You obey, pressing the vibrator to your clit, rubbing it idly on the lowest setting, enough to moan through closed lips and to earn a smile from Klaus above you.

“That's right, now push it in deep.” you obey again. Pushing the vibrator in as far as it will go, and turning it up to the highest setting.

Immediately heat floods your body, a shiver wracking your body outright. Its powerful, you find yourself thinking there might be new batteries in the thing, or maybe your nerves are fried from emotional exhaustion. He holds your legs, though you struggle in vain against his hold, your climax rushing already from the sharp vibrations wracking your cunt unmercifully. He stares down at you not unlike a predator stalking its prey, that dark glint in his eye something dangerous and beautiful. He watches as you come undone, shaking and shivering and clenching around the vibrator, almost fascinated by the scene and the way you quietly thank him before sliding the toy out of you.

“Done so soon? I thought you wanted me to make you feel good,” his tone is playful but the intent is anything but. This is less a game, you know he means war. Tonight won’t end until you physically can’t move, and Klaus will make sure of it, you realize. The vibrator slides back into place, and even though you haven’t caught your breath from coming, your moaning and gently rocking your hips as you keep the toy in place.

“Open up for me, lover?” and you turn your head to be met with his hard cock, already leaking for you. Your lips part, welcoming him in as he starts to move, slow shallow thrusts against your lips and ready tongue. Your tongue lavishes his length gently savoring the feel of his soft skin against you as it travels the length within your mouth. Surely, Klaus moans in approval, little hums spurring you on as his thrusts get a little deeper, but staying on the conservative side of your molars. You love to get him off like this. It stirs your second orgasm up, pushing you to the brink with each little moan and thrust he gives as he shows his appreciation for you. When it hits you, the orgasm, the shuddering of your entire body, a moan rips itself from your throat and you moan around him, causing his hips to sputter, head of his cock bouncing against your throat. You turn the vibrator down with shaky hands, feeling the effects start to wear on your body.

“Shiiiiiit shit oh my god,” he slips his cock from your mouth entirely, and your lips chase after it. “Did I hurt you?”

“Do it again,” your breathy voice, the open waiting mouth, Klaus has no choice to obey, pushing back in and not caring about the gentleness of a shallow thrust. He pushes until you gag a little, letting up only to let you breath, but keeping himself in your mouth as far as possible.

“No, no sweet thing turn it back up, I wanna feel you moan all the way from the back of your throat,” commanding prophet voice, you recognize, and once again the vibrating onslaught begins. He holds you there, laboring to breathe as the toy wrecks your body, shaking and contorting from the overstimulation. He moans and praises you as his hips thrust, fully fucking your mouth until the tip of his cock bumps at your throat, relishing in the feeling of your warm soft lips wrapped around him and the whimpering, pleading moans from your throat.

“One more, can you do that?” he checks in, “Can I finish in your mouth tonight?”

The hand not holding the toy in your soaked and aching pussy gives him a thumbs up, and he begins to thrust a little faster, earnestly trying to finish before you do. You almost can't tell where the normal overstimulation ends and your third orgasm begins, but a particularly hard spasm in your leg jerks Klaus’ arm forward, and you think that's probably it. He lets your legs go after that, letting you ease your back and drop the toy on the bed. When he looks down at you, all is lost.

You look fucking beautiful. A goddess with smeared make up and a cock in your mouth. He’s never kidding when he says he would get people to worship you. If only everyone could see how beautiful you look, but honestly he would never fucking let them. Not after the tent situation. He watches your eyes as he finishes, silent promises and praise as he smiles and watches your throat bob, swallowing every last drop.

There's an audible pop as he pulls himself from your mouth, your lips chasing to press a last little kiss to the tip before he’s too far away. He runs a hand through your hair, squeezes a breast, and then rounds the other side of the bed to grab the vibrator and put it away so you don’t accidentally lose it in the bed. That’s happened before.

“Remember,” Klaus starts, comforting partner voice, “in every dark cloud there's a purple vibrator.”

“No, that's not the phrase,” you dismiss, but you take his well meaning to heart. He crawls up on the bed, first covering your body with his, then rolling off to the side to snuggle up against you.

“Feeling a little better?” he asks, arms coming around you to squish your form into his bare chest warm and comforting.“How could I not be?” you whisper, kissing his skin and adding a little thank you that he might not even hear.

“Still want me to fuck you into the mattress, you wild thing?” he can feel you shaking from the collective aftershocks, muscles spasming and jolting under his firm hug.

“Save it til the morning, I’ll fall asleep if we try to fuck.”

“That’s not exactly flattering to my sexual prowess, but I’ll make you atone for that in the morning since you’re so tired.”And he kisses your head and you both drift off to sleep, on top of the covers and clinging to one another like life depends on it.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #prize buck series #my work #klaus hargreeves smut

148 notes · View notes

stardancerluv · 4 years ago

Text

Punishments

Part 3

Summary: Reader finds out something very interesting about Roman. And he realizes something about having Reader in his life.

Note: very angsty but ends well. Very early in their relationship. Takes please amongst the chapters of Creative Fervor. Oral!Female receiving, fingering. Also I include this under Punishments because Roman get angry at reader.

Left to your own devices in the room Bruce gave you to work in and the hours flew by. Pausing to stretch you realized how late you had been working. Shit, you muttered to yourself. You were supposed to be there for Roman tonight.

You quickly packed up your stuff and quickly made your way to the foyer. Pulling your phone out, you looked down, you saw that Roman had called and you missed some messages. You felt horrible.

You stood there a moment, trying to text Roman or Victor so someone could come and get you. No one answered.

“Is there a problem Miss L/N?” Asked the ever sweet and patient Alfred.

“I’m fine.” You squeaked.

“Miss L/N, Master Wayne would say the same thing with grass stains and scraped knees, I know other wise.” He gave you a warm smile.

You giggled and shook your head. “I bet.” You smiled. “I was trying to get a hold of Romy, I mean Roman to send the driver over. He’s probably in a meeting.” You pressed your lips together.

His smile wavered but remained. “I can drive you back sweetheart.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. You can’t be taking a taxi this time of day. Give me but a moment.”

“Alfred, really?” He nodded. “Thank you.”

When he disappeared you tried again. But he still wasn’t answering. Your heart sank. Quickly, you slipped into the bathroom, that was nearby on this floor. Your heart sank further. You literally looked like you had been working all day. Your hands were caked with pencil and pastels dust. There were smudges here and there on your face.

You tried to clean up a bit but it only worked a bit. Sighing, you went back out to wait for Alfred.

“Y/N, I completely forgot you were here. I would have told you to head on home.”

You smiled up at Bruce. “It’s ok, its my fault. I completely got distracted.”

“One of those nights, I got tied up myself with a slew of phone calls”

“On your way to function tonight?” He looked incredibly sharp in his black suit. You knew from what you read about him time to time he liked to show up late and leave early.

He shook his head, “Tomorrow.”

“Ahh.” Looking past him, you saw Alfred pull up. “We can talk later and settle when it will be good for me to come back.”

“Yes, definitely.” You smiled. “There’s Alfred, you have a good night.” You added.

“Oh,” He smiled. “I’m coming with!” His tone was light. “I haven’t been to Roman’s in forever, I could use a drink and perhaps him and I could catch up. And of course, I have to apologize to him for keeping you so late.”

“You don’t have to, Roman knows I lose myself in my work.”

“Well, then just a drink could be nice.”

“Ok.” You tried to sound enthusiastic. You knew Roman was not particularly fond of him.

******

You walked into the main entrance to the Black Mask with Bruce.

“Bruce, I can’t possibly go any further in looking like this. I will be right back.” You said hurriedly and turned to so you make a dash for the elevator.

He grabbed your arm, you shared a look. “Y/N, you look fine.”

“I can’t possibly, and well, I want to.” You honestly didn’t know what else to say.

“If you insist.” He finally let go of your arm.

You relaxed in the elevator, Roman’s cologne hung in the air. It meant one of two things. Either he was just in it, or he needed more cologne the usual since had just gotten back from the docks handling something. He always felt the stench of being down there would cling to him. Or both. Oddly, just that first sniff and helped you to relax. Bruce was honestly now putting you on edge.

*****

You practically ran to the room you were getting used to sharing with Roman. He let you keep somethings there. Recently staying there was becoming more and more frequent.

Finally with Roman’s fine soaps you cleaned up nicely. Sometimes, it was the little things but finding your brush next to Roman’s comb made you smile after your long day. You ran it through your hair a few times, before going to the closet where you gasped.

Baby,

Huge meeting tonight. Find me.

Bought this for you while I picked up my brand new cufflinks.

You’re beautiful.

Damn, he really could be sweet and do the most unexpected things sometimes. You unpinned the note then slipping it on and a pair of heels, you went downstairs to search for Roman.

******

He brushed his sleeve aside. You were still not there. He shifted in his seat, I’ll he flapped his suit jacket, his anger was making him hot.

Gesturing, he motioned for Zsaz, he would not wait any longer. He would make him go and get you from Wayne manor. He checked his phone. Finally, there was a message from you, it pulled relief from him.

“Boss?” Zsaz whispered.

As he was about to read it when he heard the murmurs of the people in his club. He looked up and swallowed down the anger that almost erupted from him like a volcano when he watched as Bruce Wayne walk in.

“What is he fucking doing...” His voice trailed off when he saw you. Then he watched as Bruce grabbed you. He watched as unease blossomed on your paint smudged face. “Get the girl to grab me another fucking drink.”

“Boss?”

He looked up at Zsasz.

“Fine, its just..never mind. Should I have her grab one for Y/N too?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

This was the most he had to drink in well, a while. He did not like how out of control it usually made him feel. Usually a drink was enough to take the edge of his anger. Not tonight, not with you at Wayne Manor. He thought he could handle it.

But everything came flooding back. Is that what caring about someone did, well now he was angrier then he had been in a while. He could still see the unease that had sashed across your face as you looked up at Bruce, he wondered why.

“Roman, my dear friend.”

He gritted his teeth, slid from his seat and turned to the voice. A huge smile was splashed across his face. “Bruce, it has been too long.” The two man shook their hands. “Please have a seat.”

******

Once the elevator opened, you kept your eyes peeled. Where could Roman be. Your heart lifted when you spotted him.

You let yourself swish over to him. You were eager to show him pretty you were in the dress. He had chosen such a lovely dress.

Bruce saw you first and slid from the booth, and Roman slid shortly after. Both gave you smiles.

“Baby.” Roman said softly, and moved so he gave you an ever so brief embrace and something that could barely be considered a peck on the cheek. You had seen him give guests firmer kisses.

Before pulling away you could smell the strong scent of martinis. That was so unlike him. Worry grew in your stomach.

“Look at you. You cleaned up so nicely.” Bruce remarked as you slid into the booth beside Roman.

“Thank you.” Under the table you reached for one of Roman’s gloved hands. You wanted to grab it, give it a squeeze; simply you wanted to feel close to Roman. What he did, hurt deeply. He put your hand on your thigh and moved his hand away.

You tried to swallow down the painful lump that formed in your throat.

“Y/N, I was just telling Roman how we were both distracted with work. Or I would have sent you home sooner.”

You nodded, your voice had vanished.

“I tell her all the time, she works too hard.” A tight smile was across Roman’s face.

You looked at him, his mask for business was up. He had never worn it in relation to you. You didn’t like it. It made the hurt felt grow.

Bruce appeared to soak it all in. All of this made you want to cry and scream. Roman could be formal in front of you towards whomever he was meeting but not wanting your hand, the sorry excuse for a kiss. You could just throw up, you felt ill.

At the moment all you wanted to do was go upstairs, change and go to your loft. You would try and sleep all of this pain off. You could thank him another time, maybe. A half an hour or so later, you had long since zoned out and was on your third drink as they verbally fenced each other when you finally got up.

You turned sharply well, as sharply as your drinks would let you. “Bruce, I’ll call you.” You looked at Roman. “Good night.”

“We will miss your company.” Bruce replied lightly, you did not let him grab your hand.

“Another time.”

“I’ll be up soon.” Roman quickly said.

“Right.” You nodded.

*****

Once upstairs, a tear finally fell from your eye and obscured the note Roman had scrawled out to you earlier.

“You got fucking nerve.” Snarled a voice behind you.

You turned to him. “Oh?” You’d get your belongings later. You were in no mood. “And what does that mean? You said yourself I lose myself in my work, and I do.” You grabbed your purse, you came around from behind that side of the bed. You didn’t want to leave but you were too upset to stay.

He grabbed your arm, you wiggled against his grip and gave up.

“You didn’t fight against Bruce grabbing you.”

“Because he is my employer. Well, you didn’t want my hand earlier.” You spat out. “I am very upset.”

“Really? You’re upset?” His grip tightened, you winced. “Well, I’m furious with you.”

“Why?” You honestly didn’t care, you hurt too much.

“If you were going to humiliate me, why not someone else. Why Bruce Wayne?” He replied back.

“What do you mean? Do you even know how I feel when I am there now, ever since I became your girl or at least was.” You swallowed, that last bit made bile raise.

“What the fuck do you mean?” He mimicked pulling you suddenly so close there was no space between you.

“Listen, I feel welcomed but simultaneously under scrutiny because I am, was your girl.” Saying the last bit broke a part of you. Blinking, you tried desperately to stop the tears that wanted to come.

“What ?” He growled.

“You know what I said. I don’t want to repeat it.” Your cried.

“Is that what you want?” His breathing became heavy.

“No!” You cried looking into those fiery blue eyes. “You barely kiss me when I got to the table and then you push my hand away. You must want it over, if you can barely touch me.” A few tears finally escaped.

“Because I was angry! All day you are working for a man I hate. Then you come back with him in tow.” He barked. “After not hearing from you all day, I imagined things. He grabbed you and you felt embarrassed. I could only assume,” He swallowed became familiar and that is why you rushed off to clean up.”

You looked at him. “Really? You imagined things? You thought that of me?”

“Yes! He is the most eligible bachelor in Gotham. He’s wealthy. Girls are practically lined up with their mouths open.”

“Roman, I can’t believe you.” You muttered, as you tried to hold onto the pain that spread through you.

You could not believe that he would think you’d do that. You were shaken to your core. You managed to finally wiggle free of his grasp. What you did next certainly surprised you.

Instead walking towards the elevator, where you should have done, but instead you went to his office. You went over to his bar, not really thinking you grabbed something you could drink. You twisted the cap off. How did you get to this? How did the two of you get to this? Where was the man you loved with a a great passion. You loved him which till then you thought only ever existed in books.

“Fuck. I...I..”

You turned to Roman, as you continued to down the liquid.

“He’s supposed to be so charming, so good.” He went over to you.

You finally pulled the bottle from your lips. “And to me he is none of that. Well he’s nice enough. But it is you I want. Or wanted.” You slammed the bottle down, could feel the drinks and downing this amber liquid did as it coursed its way through your body. You looked at him. “You’re the one with girls waiting in the wings to blow you.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, well.” He looked sheepish.

“Well, what? Your dancers who fucking hate me, certainly would love to suck on your cock, if you let them. You went over to him. You took off your heels, and despite the inches you lost you continued to look into his blue eyes. “Did I just happened to do it better then any of them? Is that’s why you keep me around with pretty dresses and little notes.” Tears were now streaming down your cheeks. You walked past him. Once in the hall you tore off the beautiful dress and let it fall onto the cold floor.

You went back to what had been your side of the bed, sitting down you grabbed your tshirt and pulled it on.

“Fucking stop.” The sharp edge to his voice, was like a slap. You stopped.

He came over. “You are going to listen.” He grabbed you by your upper arms and moved you so the two you were somehow in the middle of that massive bed. You knew you should probably just fight or leave. All of this hurt so much.

He straddled you, but somehow as he did, he managed to keep his weight off you. Yet he had still managed to keep you in place. You saw something had shifted in his eyes.

“I will never be able to give you the life he has. I could walk out the door tomorrow and never return.”

“I know.” You sobbed.

“So when I didn’t hear from you today first the worry came that maybe someone tried to do something against you.”

“Roman, Zsasz drove me over.” You simply said.

“Please, I have to get this out.” He sighed. “Then I remembered how growing up, I watched him get everything I had ever wanted. Loving parents, all the good grades, the friends. So I thought maybe, just maybe he finally made some grand gesture to show you that deep down he realized that he actually cared for you. And that everything else in my life you had melted and were going to go and be his!”

“No. Never.” You shook your head. “You’re the only one I want to be with.”

“Baby.” His face softened.

“Yes.” You managed to croak out. This was all far too much for you.

He shifted and he kissed you. After first you could barely kiss him back, it was all so much. You just couldn’t, but finally you did. You felt as his hands had moved from holding you in place to holding you, and you accepted it. It helped to melt the pain away.

“Help me take this off of you.” He breathed against your ear. Together you took off your t-shirt. Once it was off he slid down you pressing some kisses here and there. “And these, he paused.

“Roman.” You were so exhausted. “I’m not sure if I can.” Yes, you had grown excited but to have actual sex, you were not sure you could handle actually that.

“All I ask is you let me show you, my love but if not this way, there is another.”

You were stunned and well a little stunned. His voice was as rough, raw as you felt. “Ok, Roman.” You breathed.

“Thank you, now if you want me to ever stop. You tell me do not hesitate.” His face grew serious losing some of the softness that had come to the surface.

“I promise.”

With your help your panties, found their way to the floor beside the bed. Gently you allowed him to open you.

He met your eyes and then you felt him press an incredibly soft kiss on your mound. Your heart fluttered. “Roman.” You breathed. He only smiled and still meeting your eyes, you felt his tongue.

You couldn’t help but call out. It felt so good. His tongue moved and glided over all the right places. It wasn’t long before you arched and were just a mess as your pleasure took a hold. Reaching your fingers nestled in his dark strands.

Words, were impossible. Just sounds. Roman, had never been with you like this. It was amazing. You shook, as you did you felt a his tongue slipped in. It made you called out even louder.

Pausing, he met your eyes as he licked his lips. “Will you cum for me baby?”

Breathlessly you nodded.

“Good.”

He was between your legs once again. As you drew close you couldn’t help pulling gently on his hair but it only made it all the more intense as his tongue was simply amazing.

You called out which was a mixture of his name and a moan. He gave you a soft kiss. As he pulled back. You reached for him.

He smiled, “Just a moment.”

“Ok.” You breathed and trembled. You were completely wilted into the bed.

He came back not long after with some pajama pants laying low on his hip, he had no shirt and looked amazing with his rumbled hair. You watched a he took a sip of water from and glass. He crawled over to you. He pulled you close.

“How is my baby?”

“Amazing, you managed to say.”

“Good. But just wait.” He leaned in close. “I’m not finished. I want to kiss you but didn’t want you to think, I was making you taste yourself.” He kissed a place under your ear. “Will you kiss me?”

“Yes.” It was a hungry kiss. But it broke when you felt as be gently held and then cupped you. “My sweet tasting baby.” He whisperer. You shook in his hands. “So wonderfully wet. I love it.”

Soon you were a shaking mess. You clung onto him, as he made you cum and the quickly he did so again.

Once completely wilted in his arms his eyes met your eyes. “My anger, my past got the better of me and I can’t excuse it. But know, I only ever want is you.”

“Yes, yes me too Roman. I love you so much.” You had swallowed so you could talk. You were tingling all over from his touches, his tongue. “Roman,” you practically purred since it was all you do. “I want, I want to make you feel good now too. “

“Then kiss me baby and fall asleep in my arms. I want you in my arms tonight.”

“I would love to.”

Your lips met and you kissed. You could not remember when exactly. But you did eventually your eye lids, your body fell heavy and soon you did in fact fall asleep on his arms.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @captainjacklynmarie

23 notes · View notes

sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

Text

We Dream in the Dark, for the Most Part

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses.

Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls.

“Handling it!”

It was a grueling patrol, but Jason is relieved to be home. He missed having Roy by his side tonight, but their usual babysitter, Mrs. Peterson from next door, came down with pneumonia yesterday and canceled. She doesn’t seem to have any idea that her neighbors are vigilantes, but they pay her enough that she doesn’t ask. Lian is coloring at the coffee table while Jason toes off his boots, leaving them at the front door. She’s wearing her fluffy Stitch pajamas, which she’s been practically living in for the last week and a half. “Hey, princess.” Jason drops a kiss on top of her head as he passes. “Where’s your dad?” “In the kitchen. He’s playing with the electricity again.” “Oh, good. Because, you know, I was actually hoping our place would explode, just to spice things up.” Lian giggles. “Has he fed you yet?” She shakes her head, her black pigtails swinging back and forth. “Nope. But he promised me special sushi if I cleaned up all my books.” Jason will never understand Lian’s passion for her “special sushi,” which is just deli ham slathered in strawberry yogurt and rolled up like a spring roll from hell. Jason gets nauseated just thinking about it, but the kid loves the stuff. “And did you clean up?” Lian points over at the bookshelf against the wall. They don’t have a huge apartment by any means, but Jason insisted on dedicating an entire wall to his books. That was one of the conditions when Roy first asked Jason to move in with him and Lian. It took weeks of finagling to convince Jason to relinquish a small section of the bookshelf for Lian’s picture books, which are indeed all in their right places. “Then it looks like you’ve earned your sushi, little miss. I’m gonna shower first and then I’ll make it for you, alright?” “I can make it by myself.” Jason snorts. “After what happened last time? I don’t think so.” It was his own fault for thinking a five-year-old could prepare her own food. It took a solid hour to scrub the yogurt stains out of the carpet. Jason pokes his head in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. “Tell me you’re not burning the building down.” “Okay, then I’m not burning the building down,” Roy says around the screwdriver trapped between his teeth. He stands in front of what was once a light switch, tinkering with something that he most definitely should not be tinkering with, but Jason is picking his battles today.

“I’m not going to bother telling you that you’re on your second strike with the landlord. If he has to come up here again, I’m not defending you.” “You know what I miss? The old days when people would greet each other by saying things like, ‘hi, sweetie, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, it was lovely, darling. How about a kiss after spending hours apart and missing each other dearly?’ ‘Babe, it’s like you read my mind!’ You know, stuff like that?” Jason arches an eyebrow. “I’ve got mobster blood caked in my hair. Still want a hello kiss?” “Not really, no. Go shower.” “Try not to blow a fuse in the meantime, please.” Roy salutes with his screwdriver. “Aye, aye, captain.” Jason goes to the bathroom and relishes in the feeling of peeling off his armor and the bodysuit underneath, every layer soaked with sweat and blood. It’s a good thing his Red Hood getup is all dark colors, or he’d have scarred Lian for life ten times over already. He turns the shower knob as hot as it’ll go, letting his muscles slowly unravel under the spray. He takes his time scrubbing off the blood and dirt, whistling some shitty pop song that Dick paid Barbara to blast through the comms all. Night. Long. Jason has plans to add that to his repertoire of torture techniques if he ever needs some extra edge. It’s definitely effective. Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses. Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls. “Handling it!” Another sigh. This is what he gets for leaving Roy alone. It’s Jason’s own fault, really. He quickly rinses the shampoo from his hair and leaves the bathroom, and towel wrapped around his waist. He navigates the pitch black apartment and finds Roy lighting a match in the kitchen. He’s got Lian tucked in one arm. “What did I say?” Jason asks. “I know, I know—” “I said not to blow a fuse. That was your one job.” “Technically, I didn’t blow a fuse. I just overloaded the circuit and cut off the electricity for the whole building.” Jason smacks himself in the forehead. “Wonderful.” Remind him again why he’s in love with this man? “I’m sure it’ll be fixed in no time.” “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes.” “You’re overreacting. It’s just a little blackout.” “We have ice cream in the freezer.” “I’ll buy more.” Jason runs a hand through his wet hair. “You’re killing me, babe. Again.” “It’s just one night without power, right? I’m sure it’ll come back on in the morning.” He bounces Lian a little, who’s got her face buried in Roy’s neck. Poor thing is terrified of the dark. “What do you think, pumpkin? You think you can be brave for one little night in the dark?” “I don’t like it. It’s scary.” “I know it is, sweetheart. But do you want to know a secret?” He leans in close to her ear, mock-whispering, “Jaybird over here is afraid of the dark too.” Lian looks at Jason with wide eyes. “Really?” Roy nods. “Yep. But you know what? He’s so brave and strong that he overcame that fear and now it hardly bothers him anymore. Do you think you can be brave like that?” “I can be super brave.” “That’s my girl. Not, sit here for a minute, ‘kay?” He sets her down on the arm of the sofa. The match has fizzled out by now, leaving them in complete darkness. “I know I have some scented candles around here somewhere. Dinah keeps getting them as gifts and pushes them on me when she doesn’t like them.” Jason’s eyes widen. “Wait, watch out for the—” Roy trips with a shout, glass shattering as he falls. “—coffee table.” Roy just groans in response. “Hang on, let me get a light.” Jason makes his way to the drawer they keep the emergency flashlight in. He turns on the beam to show Roy on the floor, surrounded by glass shards and clutching his leg. There are several small cuts peppering his knee like he crawled on a beach made of broken bottles. Jason gasps. “Oh my god, Roy! You broke Lian’s crayons!” Roy flips him off, angling his hand so Lian can’t see. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jason helps him up and hands him the flashlight. “Lian, honey, will you help him get to the couch? I need to put some clothes on.” And he’s almost positive there’s another flashlight somewhere in Roy’s nightstand. They’re going to need all the light they can get. Jason gets dressed and retrieves the flashlight, plus one of Lian’s Disney princess glow sticks. When he returns, Roy is on the couch with his leg propped up on what remains of their coffee table. Lian is shining the flashlight on her tiny first-aid kit which Kori gave her last Christmas. She sifts through her collection of band-aids. “One to ten?” “Barely a two,” Roy says. “I already dug the glass out, and none were deep enough to need stitches.” Jason checks him over anyway, just to be sure. He wipes away the blood and applies some ointment over the cuts. He turns to Lian when he’s finished. “Can I trust you to finish this up while I make dinner?” She nods enthusiastically. Perfect. Lian can keep herself busy plastering Roy in Hello Kitty bandages, and Jason will have time to figure out what the hell they’re doing, food-wise. “How do you expect to make dinner without electricity?” Roy asks, reading his mind yet again. “What, did you never have to eat cold leftover pizza in your million-dollar mansion growing up? Weird.” He dodges the pillow Roy throws his way, laughing. “Those jokes don’t count when you also grew up in a million-dollar mansion.” Thirty minutes later and the three of them are sitting on the couch, Roy and Jason eating cold mushroom casserole while Lian enjoys her ham and yogurt. Once you get over the temperature difference, cold casserole turns out to be just as tasty as hot casserole. Gordon Ramsey should take notes. Jason managed to track down the candles Roy was talking about earlier and set them in various places around the living room, lighting the room in a dim glow. It’s not perfect lighting by any means—not even good lighting, really, but at least no one will be falling into another coffee table anytime soon. Roy’s knee is covered in Hello Kitty band-aids, some of which are in spots that weren’t even cut up by the glass. Roy doesn’t seem to mind. Jason took a picture for potential blackmail reasons. “I’m bored,” Lian says after a while. “You could always go to bed,” Roy suggests, “given that your bedtime was fifteen minutes ago but your daddies are nice enough to let you stay up this long.” “That was nice of us,” Jason agrees. “I think we’ve earned a quiet night to ourselves.” Lian pouts. She grabs Jason’s arm, clinging to his bicep like a koala. “But it’s dark in my room.” “It’s dark in there every night.” “It’s really dark tonight. Can I stay here with you instead?” Her eyes are big and innocent, perfectly disguising the mischief lurking within. This girl could be a successful con artist one day. (Not that Jason or Roy will ever let that happen. She’s going to grow up and become a veterinarian or something equally harmless.) Roy and Jason meet eyes, having a silent conversation over Lian’s head. Finally, Roy sighs. “Fine. You can stay up with us a little longer, but only because of the blackout, okay? Don’t go thinking that this trick is going to work tomorrow night.” Lian claps her hands, bouncing in her seat. “Can I have coffee?” “Absolutely not.” She isn’t deterred in the slightest. “This is gonna be so fun! We can stay up all night long, even past midnight and three o’clock which is when the ghosts come out.” “Ghosts, huh?” Jason says. “Yeah, Aunt Stephanie told me all about it! Three o’clock is when the witching hour happens and witches and ghosts come out like Bloody Mary and Freddie Cougar and they call come into your house and walk around but you can only see them if you’re awake, which I’m gonna be because I’m not even tired, I could stay up all night long and for a million, bazillion years, and—” She lasts seven minutes. Lian is fast asleep now with her head in Roy’s lap, her tiny feet dangling off the arm of the sofa. Jason drapes a blanket over her, kissing her on the forehead. He’s careful not to jostle Roy’s bandaged leg as he takes a seat beside him, putting his arm around Roy’s shoulders. “Well, I’m fucking exhausted.” “It’s cool if you want to go to bed,” Roy says. “I don’t mind sticking around here with Lian until the power comes back on.” “Nah, it’s fine. I like it better in here, anyway.” In here, where the light is. Roy doesn’t comment on the hidden meaning that he definitely catches on to, and Jason loves him for it. He just kisses Jason’s cheek, settling against his side. Jason doesn’t mention the darkness thing often. Or at all. After all, grown men don’t get scared of the dark—especially when they live in a place like Gotham and were raised in a literal cave. But if Lian insists on having the hallway light on in addition to the night light next to her bed, then Jason isn’t about to discourage her. Roy never says a word about it. Every night he keeps the door to his and Jason’s bedroom cracked open just enough so a sliver of hallway light floods in, and it’s good for both of them, really. Jason feels safer with the light on, and they both feel safer being able to hear every creak and draft in the apartment, falling asleep knowing that nothing will sneak up on them. Even when Jason was living on his own, post-resurrection, he always kept a lamp on when he went to sleep in whichever safehouse he was squatting in that night. Back before he had a place to call home. On especially bad nights, he would turn on the lights in every single room, even the one in the microwave. Only then could he sleep soundly. He can’t exactly do that now, but he doesn’t need to. Whenever his head gets too heavy to bear, he’ll simply wrap his arms around Roy and fall back asleep to the sound of Roy’s heart beating under his ear. He falls back asleep in minutes. Jason isn’t entirely sure what caused the light issue in the first place. Sometimes he can’t remember if it arose before or after he was adopted by Bruce. Other times he’s sure it’s lingering trauma from the coffin, from waking up in pitch blackness six feet underground. No bearings, no sense of what was happening or where he was. The only thing in there with him was the thick, cloying darkness on every side of him. Jason shivers just thinking about it. “We should get her a new night light,” he says. “Battery powered, not a plug-in. It would be a good investment if you ever try destroying our electricity again.” Roy hums. “We can pick one up tomorrow. I need to take her clothes shopping anyway. And it might be a good idea to have a couple for the living room and bathroom so we don’t have a repeat of tonight.” “Good idea.” God, Jason’s craving a cigarette right now. Every nerve in his body urges him to get one and soothe the anxiety buzzing in his brain, but he has a rule against smoking in the apartment or anywhere near Lian. He’d settle for a beer instead, whatever keeps the buzzing at bay, but he doesn’t drink at home either out of respect for Roy’s sobriety. He’s stuck. Roy must notice Jason’s twitching fingers because he reaches into his pocket, careful not to wake Lian as he pulls out a stick of nicotine gum. “Here.” Jason unwraps the gum and shoves it in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in as he chews, letting it out slowly. It takes the edge off some, but not completely. Still, it’s better than nothing. “You’re just carrying these on you now?” "Came in handy, didn't it?" “And I thought Bruce was the king of being prepared for everything.” Jason straightens the wrapper until it’s flat like a card. He holds it over the nearest candle until it catches, watching the flame consume the paper, eating away at its edges. He blows it out just before it gets too close to his fingers. “When I was a kid,” he says after a minute, “my mom and I used to light candles like these. The heat would get turned off pretty often since she was usually too high to remember what day it was, let alone when the bills needed to be paid. But whenever it happened, she would send me to the store with a couple dollars and I’d buy a bag of marshmallows. We’d roast them over the candles and pretend we were camping.” “That sounds nice.” “It was. I mean, now I realize that it’s actually really fucking sad that we had to resort to candles ‘cause my mom wasted all her cash on drugs and couldn’t pay the heating bill. But at the time, it was nice. It’s one of the few good memories I have of that time.” He feels more than sees Roy’s fingers lacing through his own, clasping their hands together. “I was telling the truth earlier, you know. You’re brave and strong and badass all the way.” Jason snorts. “Even if I get freaked out every time the lights go out?” Roy doesn’t laugh with him. “Yeah, even then. And you know why?” He rests his head on Jason’s shoulder, lets Jason feel his warmth. “Because of all the things to be afraid of, you picked the one that can be fixed by just turning the lights on. Once you do that, there’s nothing left in the world that can scare you. And that’s pretty damn badass if you ask me.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.27 #power outage #jayroy #jason todd #red hood #robin #batman #roy harper #red arrow #arsenal #red hood and the outlaws #red hood/arsenal #lian harper #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

81 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Six (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: We find out what happened to Rosé, and the Games continue.

A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible feedback on chapter five!! It made me so happy to see and I’m so glad how people enjoyed it. I’d really appreciate hearing your thoughts on this chapter as well!

Denali chokes back her scream as Rosé collapses, not wanting to give away their position. All the teams have targets on their back now, the danger even higher. And Rosé is motionless on the ground.

“Rosé, wake up. Please wake up.” She shakes her shoulder, mind running through a hundred possibilities. It can’t be because of the rain, or Denali would be affected too. Probably not poison either; they’ve been eating the same things. Whatever it is, she needs Rosé awake. Denali taps her cheek, dimly registering that Rosé shouldn’t be this warm. Her green eyes slowly blink open, and Denali loses herself in them for a second.

“What…happened?”

“I think you fainted. Or…” Denali trails off when she smells smoke. Thick gray clouds of it blot the sky, and where there’s smoke, there’s… “Fire. Oh, shit. Fire.”

A tower of flames writhes toward them, licking at the trees and filling the air with the scent of burnt pine. The fire is too large to be natural–figures the Gamemakers didn’t even wait five minutes after their announcement to unleash something.

Denali scrambles for their stuff, tugging Rosé’s arm. “We gotta go, we gotta go now.”

Rosé winces as she staggers to her feet.

“Can you run on that leg?” Denali asks.

“Do we have another option?”

It’s a fair point, and the flames are close enough to feel their heat. She puts her head down and runs, Rosé trailing behind her. They need to find shelter, somewhere safe enough for Rosé to rest. They’re not far from the mountain, and there has to be a cave or crevice they can hide in. They just have to get up there.

They sprint across a valley with the fire just feet behind them, and the only good thing is that it protects them from other tributes–no one can attack them with a wall of fire in the way. They trudge through weeds and gnarled roots on the mountain passes, Denali wordlessly catching Rosé when she stumbles, beating out the dying fire. A slit opens between two rocks, so small Denali’s trained eyes hardly see it. It’s big enough inside for both of them, and Denali’s shoulders loosen slightly. They should be safe for a few days, probably more if she disguises the entrance better. There’s even a stream nearby.

Rosé collapses against the wall with a gasp. Her face is ghostly pale and twisted in pain, her body drenched in sweat as she trembles.

The pain probably made her faint, but Denali thinks of how hot she was, and her heart sinks with what she doesn’t want to acknowledge. Their first aid kit didn’t have antibiotics, or a needle and thread—the Gamemakers wouldn’t make things that easy—so Denali had just rinsed the wound and wrapped it tight. Maybe it wasn’t enough.

Denali kneels beside her cautiously. “I need to look at your leg.”

“No.” Rosé clamps her hands over the wound with a wince. Denali isn’t sure if Rosé doesn’t want to admit that something’s wrong, or if she’s afraid of getting medical help from Denali. Denali isn’t a doctor by any means, and part of her wants to leave Rosé alone, pretend everything is fine, but she can’t.

“Rosé, you fainted.”

“Only a little,“ Rosé mumbles. "It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

There’s a hint of fear in her voice, and Denali softens. “I just need to check it, okay? I’ll go slow. And I used to hunt, remember? I’ve seen dead animals a lot worse than your leg.”

“Denali Foxx, did you just compare me to a dead animal?” Rosé asks in mock outrage. Her hands ease off her leg, Denali’s humor relaxing her like she hoped it would.

“Well, let’s hope we can avoid the dead part,” Denali says. “The animal part was spot-on, though.” She carefully moves Rosé’s pants down, grateful for her undershorts because Rosé’s bare skin is not something Denali can handle right now. She unwinds the bandage, her stomach churning once the wound is uncovered, red and inflamed and oozing at the edges. Denali knows, and the red lines streaking up Rosé’s thigh confirm it.

Blood poisoning.

“Oh,” Rosé says quietly. “Fuck.”

—

“Okay, don’t panic.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one panicking,” Rosé says. She sits against the cave wall, slowly getting her breath back while Denali paces.

Denali stops, wringing her hands together. “I saw leaves that draw out infection by the stream. I’m gonna get them. Stay here.”

“Not like I can go anywhere.” Her leg is throbbing, and moving will only make things worse.

Denali grimaces and heads out, desperate for a purpose, for something to help. Rosé knows the leaves aren’t enough to fix her infection; she needs real medicine from the Capitol. She has no idea what it would cost a sponsor to send it, because that kind of medicine isn’t a possibility in District 12, where the default prescription is drink some whiskey and sleep it off. If something’s really wrong, you usually don’t make it.

Denali rushes back in with a bundle of green leaves, crushing them up and making a paste with water. It’s not enough, but it can’t hurt, and Rosé won’t upset Denali when she’s trying so badly to help.

Denali’s movements are frantic, nothing like the measured motions for stringing her bow, and she almost drops the paste.

“Hey,” Rosé says. “Let me put it on. Your hands are shaking.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, you idiot.”

Rosé would make a snappy comment, but she sees how much Denali is shaking, how her eyes are wide in genuine fear. Denali really cares about her, and Rosé has a rush of affection for her.

Rosé gently takes the mixture from Denali. “I’ll do it, okay?”

Denali laughs bitterly. “You’re the one who’s–”

Rosé cuts her off before she can say how bad things are. “I’m gonna be fine, okay? This isn’t how I’m going out. I’m not going out at all, but if I do, I’m going out fighting, with my sword in my hand.”

Denali nods shakily.

“I’ve got some of the steadiest hands in the district,” Rosé continues, hoping to soothe Denali’s fear. “Cake-decorating hands, baby.” It slips out before she can stop it, and any worries are stopped by the fact that she should be saying this, should sell their romance for the camera. But none of this conversation has been for that; every part of it was real for Rosé; her need to soothe Denali, take away her fears, her insistence on making it through this. Denali must know it’s real too, because she’s smiling now, and she actually laughs, Rosé’s heart lightening at the sound.

“Too bad you can’t pipe icing at the tributes,” Denali snorts.

“Laugh all you want. I guarantee I could take someone out with a piping bag,” Rosé says. Her own laugh is strangled by muttered curses as the paste stings on her wound, but swearing is all she’ll allow herself. She won’t whimper like a baby in front of the Capitol, and she won’t add to Denali’s worry.

“What was it like, working at the bakery?” Denali asks, throwing her a line, a distraction, and Rosé takes it.

“It was…it was fun, really. My dad did the cakes, my mom did the breads. Me and Jan and Lagoona helped.” She rolls her eyes and smiles. “We mostly just played and tried not to get in trouble. When we were a little older, we’d make the cookies together, and my dad started showing me how to decorate cakes when I was ten. I still remember the first one I did that was good enough to sell. White icing with little pink and yellow roses. He let me put it in the window and everything.”

Rosé tries not to think of those days, of how happy and carefree they were, because it only makes the fact that days like that are now hard to come by hurt that much worse. But maybe it’s okay to tug memories over her like a blanket. She remembers running around the kitchen playing tag with her sisters, their father shaking his head fondly. She remembers the smell of yeast, watching her mother knead the bread over and over, mesmerized by the rhythms. She remembers the squishy piping bag in her hand, her father guiding her along, how he always said what a good job she did.

On her good days, when she leaves the house, she goes right to the bakery, soaking in the sweetness as golden and warm as the pastries her father makes. If she’s really up for it, she’ll even grab a bag and decorate a cake, the world fading away as she makes flowers out of butter and sugar.

“That’s really nice.” Denali smiles as she hands Rosé the bandages from the first aid kit.

“Yeah.” Rosé winds it around her leg, grateful to have the wound hidden again. It’s fine. She’s fine. She just has to outlast it until she and Denali are the only ones left. They can still win. “We should have a victory cake after we win.”

Denali leans in with the medical tape, her touch gentle as she tapes the bandage in place. She’s so close that their foreheads almost touch, and Rosé stares at Denali’s focused brown eyes, all the air knocked out of her lungs.

“Thanks,” she manages.

“No problem.” Denali smiles. “And I’m holding you to that victory cake.”

—

Denali tries, as hours blur into days. She tries to stay hopeful, to not let Rosé see how worried she is. Denali shouldn’t even be this upset, this stressed; Rosé is the one with her leg cut open and an infection burning through her, yet she’s calm and Denali can’t sleep because she’s afraid something might happen to Rosé while she does. She knows the odds, knows how bad things are, but she tries to ignore it. She tells herself it’s natural to worry about her teammate, but she hasn’t been this worried about someone since her father died and her mom couldn’t get out of bed. She hasn’t been this close to anyone since then either, but being thrown into the arena like this, trusting each other to survive, has brought them closer than Denali could have imagined. She’s grown to really like being around Rosé, hearing her laughter, watching her eyes soften when she tells stories about the bakery. She doesn’t want to lose her.

Losing Rosé would put Denali at worse odds, anyone can see that. But Denali doesn’t see her as just an ally anymore, and losing her would be losing a friend. A friend who’s been with her through the arena, who understands feelings Denali can’t even put into words. She won’t lose her. She can’t lose her. If anyone is stubborn enough to outlast an infection, it’s Rosé, and Denali lets the thought give her hope.

“How are you feeling?” Denali asks when Rosé wakes up.

“Fine.”

Denali touches her forehead gently, Rosé’s breath hitching at the touch. “You’re still pretty warm. I found some painkillers in the first aid kit. Nothing major, but they can’t hurt.”

Rosé nods, accepting the pills with some water. She becomes a bit more herself when they kick in, her eyes losing the shadows of pain and lightening up. Denali hopefully offers her breakfast, but Rosé shakes her head.

“Not hungry.”

Denali winces. It’s not a good sign.

“Not an option. If we’re gonna win, you need to eat.” Denali digs through their bags again, offering Rosé dried meat and apples like she didn’t refuse them five seconds ago. They need something light, something easy on her stomach. “If we had soup, do you think you could eat that?”

“Probably, but do you think soup is just gonna drop out of the sky–”

Something clangs at the mouth of the cave, and Denali finds a silver canister attached to the parachute. She unscrews the top and smells savory broth and vegetables. Clearly someone agrees that Rosé needs to eat, and she thanks their mystery sponsor.

Rosé snorts. “I’ll be damned.”

—

Soup keeps arriving, and Rosé keeps fighting. She does her best to eat, to keep her composure so Denali doesn’t worry. Denali’s only getting snatches of sleep, every second focused on Rosé, and Rosé doesn’t want to give her too much cause to worry.

Aside from the dull pain and the fever clinging to her like fire, it’s not so bad in the cave. It’s like their own little world, far away from the arena’s dangers. Just her and Denali, together like at the Training Center. Denali peeks her head out each night to hear the anthem and see if anyone’s died. So far, just the man from District 9. There’s still five tributes left, and Rosé knows something has to draw them together eventually. They both hate sitting here, being helpless, wanting so badly to go out and end things, but they can’t. Rosé can’t even sit up without getting so dizzy she almost loses whatever’s in her stomach. It’s her fault they’re stuck here, and she burns with guilt that she might cost them the win with her stupid infected leg. If someone would send the medicine, she could manage. Her leg would still hurt, sure, but she could power through long enough to get her and Denali home. Why hasn’t anyone sent it yet? She’s grateful for the soup, but surely someone in the Capitol can afford the medicine, and surely they would have sent it by now. What are they waiting for?

Maybe because Rosé is just laying on the cave floor like a baby, and they want to see her do something that’s worth the money they’d spend. Proof she’s worth dipping into their pockets. Deep down, she thinks they want more of the love story, more reason to watch them. Would kissing Denali be enough? Announcing her love? It’s terrible to do that to Denali, though, terrible to use her to stay alive. We’d be using each other, Denali said ruefully, but this feels like too much.

So Rosé talks instead.

She talks about the bakery, about the time Jan tried her own cake recipe and the thing was burnt outside and raw inside, or the time Rosé and Lagoona kept flicking flour at each other until they looked like ghosts. Denali laughs and laughs, and Rosé is grateful she’s let these stories out, grateful to share them with someone besides her sisters. She can’t remember the last time she talked this much, and even if it exhausts her, she keeps going. Because if she’s talking, Denali knows she’s okay.

“What was it like? Learning the woods stuff from your dad,” Rosé asks, hoping Denali doesn’t notice how her words slur.

Denali grabs a piece of cloth she’d cut from the sleeping bag, dips it in water, and rests it on Rosé’s forehead. She gets water from the stream each morning, and though it’s barely cool anymore, it’s heaven against Rosé’s hot skin, and she sighs in relief.

“It was…quiet,” Denali says finally. “Peaceful. He was always in the mines, so it was the only time I got to be with him, really. He didn’t talk much, but he was there, and it was enough. He would show me all the flowers and plants and tell me these rhymes about what was safe to eat. And he showed me how to use his bow. It was bigger than me the first time we practiced.” Denali smiles, and Rosé does too, heart warming at the image of a tiny Denali holding up a bow twice her size. “It felt so right in my hands,” Denali continues. “He drew targets on the trees until I got them all, and then he’d have me aim for certain leaves. Everything I can do with my bow is from him.”

“He taught you well.”

“Yeah. I–sometimes I wish he could’ve seen how good I got with it. I wish he could’ve seen me win,” Denali says sadly.

“He’d be proud of you. I know it,” Rosé says, touched that Denali trusts her this much, that she’s shown this part of her.

There’s a lightness in her eyes Rosé doesn’t think she’s seen since Denali was a kid–the kind of lightness Denali was rarely without as a kid. It was why Rosé had sneaked cookies in her bag years ago, trying anything to ease the sadness. And being with Denali now, closer than they were as kids, closer than Rosé has been with anyone besides her family, makes her ache to do it again. To be there for Denali’s pain and sadness, and do her best to lighten the load. To maybe let Denali do the same for her. Because all this–spending time with Denali, being on her team–feels so right. They’re the perfect team, and they’re both going to win, and go home. And if–when–they do, Rosé won’t lose Denali again.

When she first got home after her Victory Tour, she spent most days in her room, tired yet fighting sleep because of what she might see, the excitement of her return crushed by the weight of what she had to do for it. She was cold to her sisters when they tried to help, cold to Denali when she tried talking to her. She isn’t proud of it, and while she fixed things with her sisters, she never formally did with Denali–she just let them drift, though she forced herself to work extra hard when she mentored Denali. Surviving the Games could have reunited them, but Rosé let it push them further apart, because it was something she didn’t want to share with anyone–especially not someone she cared about. But she’s sharing it with Denali now, and she’s grateful to. And when they go home, she won’t let them drift. She’ll work to keep Denali in her life, to go outside more, to appreciate what she has.

“Do you want more soup?” Denali asks, once more desperate to help.

“No.”

“Just a little more?” Denali pleads. “Please? For me?“

Denali’s eyes are too much for Rosé. “Anything for you,” she says, and even in the cave, she can see Denali blush. She eats three more spoonfuls, then turns to Denali. “Can you do something for me now?”

“Anything.”

“Get some sleep, Denali. Please. I’ll be okay, I swear,” she says before Denali can protest. “You need to rest.”

“But–”

“I have my sword. I’ll wake you if anything happens. I’ll be fine for a few hours.” Rosé fixes the sternest look she can muster, and Denali finally gives in.

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” she says, slipping into the sleeping bag. Her breaths even out in minutes, and it tugs at Rosé’s chest how much Denali is exhausting herself to look after her. The stress of the arena slowly leaves Denali’s face in her sleep, and she could be nine again, curled up in her sleeping bag for a sleepover with Jan. The determined kid who used to protect other kids from the class bully and beat the older boys in races during recess. The determined woman who’s been there for her since the reaping, who didn’t give up on her and helped her fight again. Who makes her want to live again.

Rosé grips her sword tightly as she watches Denali sleep, and when Denali lets out a little sigh, it occurs to Rosé that if she were to confess her love, it might not be a complete lie.

—

Hours after Denali wakes up, things take a turn for the worse. Rosé is too weak to feed herself, and turns her head away when Denali offers her soup. Her skin is so hot she instantly dries out the cloth Denali puts on her forehead. She slips in and out of consciousness, her sleep full of whimpers for her sisters, and Denali vows not to mention it to her.

“I’m sorry,” Rosé croaks. Her eyes are closed, and Denali isn’t sure she’s fully awake.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Denali says, trying to keep the worry from her voice.

“Your mom’s…necklace,” Rosé says. “We nev-never went back.”

Right. They were supposed to go back that morning, but the announcement came, and Rosé collapsed, and then the fire arrived. Denali had forgotten about it in the chaos.

“It’s not your fault,” Denali says quietly. “That fire came, remember? We couldn’t have gone back anyway.” She bites her lip. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You got hurt saving me, if I–”

“Don’t,” Rosé says. “Not your fault.” She wheezes, the talking taking too much out of her. “Maybe you should go on without me.”

“Not a chance in hell,” she growls so fiercely that Rosé doesn’t even attempt to argue.

Rosé grunts as she reaches for her jacket, and her shaky fingers unclasp the lion pin and offer it to Denali.

Denali’s heart sinks. “Rosé, I can’t take this, it’s your sister’s.”

“I promised Jan I would bring it back to her. Denali, if I can’t make it, I need you to make it. I need you to bring this home to her,” Rosé says seriously.

Rosé would never give away the pin–the promise–unless she was really worried about being unable to keep it, and Denali blinks back tears of helplessness.

“No–no. Don’t think that, Rosé. You’ll bring it to her yourself,” Denali says. She can’t even consider bringing this pin to Jan, can’t even consider that Rosé won’t be with her. The past weeks with Rosé have only left Denali certain that she never wants to be apart from her again.

“Just in case. Promise?”

Denali knows Rosé won’t take no for an answer, and she doesn’t want to upset her. “I promise.”

“Good.” She sleeps again, and the pin sits like lead in Denali’s pocket.

—

By night, Rosé’s forehead burns Denali’s hand. Denali helplessly watches her toss and turn, like she’s trying to get the heat off her. God, Denali was so stupid. She seriously kidded herself that Rosé would magically get better. Rosé’s held out longer than most, but blood poisoning isn’t something you get better from–not without serious medicine.

Denali’s no stranger to pain or misery or suffering–her own or someone else’s. But she watches Rosé sweat and shiver and she can’t bear it. Rosé used to give them piggyback rides even when they were too big, hiding the backache with a smile. When Jan forgot her homework, Rosé ran home and back, handing Jan the work just as the bell rang. When an older boy kept bothering Lagoona, Rosé threw herself between them, firmly standing her ground until he left her alone. She was a hero to her sisters, to Denali, though now Denali knows Rosé isn’t so much a hero as a woman who’s made mistakes and is just trying to survive. Rosé should be home with her family, piping beautiful roses on cakes. Not thousands of miles away, suffering on this hard cave floor. It hurts Denali to even look at her. It should be Denali trembling with fever and pain. Would be Denali if Rosé hadn’t taken that hit for her. This is all Denali’s fault. How could she spend so long preparing for a fight and be too slow when the attack finally came? All the dreams of them going back home, of inviting Rosé over for breakfast, of taking her on walks in the woods, are slipping through Denali’s hands.

No. She’s not losing Rosé. She turns the lion pin over in her hand. What had Rosé called it in her interview? A symbol of love and home, Denali recalls, and more tears sting in her eyes. This is the one of the most important things in the world to Rosé, and she gave it to Denali, wanted to give her this piece of love and home. She trusts Denali to bring it home if she can’t. She trusts Denali, period, when she hasn’t trusted anyone in years. And Denali trusts her. Trusts her in the arena, trusts her in this cave, trusts her to talk about her family with. Rosé isn’t going home without this pin, and Denali isn’t going home without Rosé. There has to be a way to get the medicine. What if she–

Rosé coughs, her brow furrowing in pain.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Denali says quietly, for Rosé’s benefit as much as her own.

Rosé stills, opening glassy eyes. “Jan?” she asks hoarsely, and Denali’s stomach drops. The fever is high enough to mess with her brain—what if it’s too late even if she can get the medicine?

Denali hesitates, heart in pieces, wondering if she should play along or tell the truth. If she plays along, Rosé might get upset after realizing she’s lying. But denying it might upset her even more, and Denali can’t hurt her.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Jan,” Denali says. She strokes Rosé’s hair and hums the lullaby Rosé hummed to Finn, and it’s not quite right, but it soothes her anyway.

For a few minutes at least, and then she stubbornly opens her eyes.

“You’re not Jan,” Rosé says, and before Denali can wonder if she’s mad, she smiles. “You’re Denali.”

Denali blushes. “Yeah, I am.”

Rosé looks at her in wonder, a shy smile on her face. “Denali, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

Blood roars in Denali’s ears, her heart racing. What the hell is Rosé doing? She must still be delirious, she doesn’t know what she’s saying–

“I’ve loved you for a while,” Rosé continues, her eyes clearing a little, her voice sincere. “And you’re so special to me that I want you to know. I want everyone to know.”

And then Denali understands. Rosé has mustered up one last plan to get the medicine. A love declaration on live television. If this can’t get a sponsor’s sympathy, nothing can, and Denali has to play along. This is the game, it’s what they agreed to, so why does it feel so real, like at the interview? Why does part of Denali want it to be real? It’s just a game, she tells herself.

“I…I know, Rosie. I know you love me.” Why can’t she say I love you back? Rosé’s damn life is on the line, but the words won’t come out. But maybe she doesn’t need words. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Rosé breathes.

Denali holds her breath as she leans down to meet her lips. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t imagine this before. She was eleven when she realized she wanted to kiss girls, and so what if her fantasy kissing partner had red hair and green eyes? It was just her imagination. Nothing real. And Denali doesn’t know if it’s real now, but she’s doing it.

Rosé’s lips are fiery, but soft and delicate. Denali knows this has to be believable, so she runs one hand along Rosé’s arm, the other stroking her sweaty hair. If Denali’s heart was racing before, it’s running a sprint as the kiss deepens, and she feels more alive than she has since the fight in the clearing. It’s been so long since she’s kissed anyone, touched them so tenderly, and she wants to do it again and again. But she shouldn’t enjoy it this much, because it’s just a game, right?

Right?

She doesn’t have time to think, because a clanging at the cave mouth announces the arrival of their saving grace.

—

Denali tears the lid off the container. Inside, there’s a syringe, a needle and thread, bandages, and painkillers. Denali grabs the syringe, whispers an apology to Rosé, and sticks it into her arm.

Rosé, falls asleep seconds later, exhausted from the talking and the kiss. Denali isn’t sure if that’s good or bad. She assumes the medicine is a fast-acting Capitol creation, since she only needs one syringe. But how fast? Minutes? Hours? She doesn’t know how much longer they can hide here before the Gamemakers force them out.

Denali sighs. She might as well stitch the wound properly while Rosé is asleep. For the first time in the cave, her sleep is peaceful, and Denali feels a rush of gratitude. The lines of infection are already fading, and she stitches the wound with new hope, tinged with anger. All that work, all that suffering, for one little syringe. How could the Capitol have something that practically works miracles and make it so hard to get?

“Rosé McCorkell, you better wake up soon,” Denali says. “Because if you die on me after all this, I swear I’ll bring you back just to yell at you! I–I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life! I’ll–”

“‘M pretty sure I’d be haunting you, since I’m the dead one.” A wide grin crosses Rosé’s face as her eyes ease open.

“Rosie, you’re–”

“I’m okay. I feel like shit, but I’m okay.”

Relief slams into Denali, filling the cave with joy, and she cups Rosé’s cheek gently, feeling that she’s alive and okay. Denali isn’t going to lose her.

“Thank you, Denali,” Rosé whispers, and Denali knows how much she means it.

“We look out for each other, remember?”

Rosé nods as Denali helps her sit up. They eat the last of their food, making a plan to wash up at the stream, find food and water, and re-enter the arena.

Five tributes. That’s all that’s between them and the train home.

“One more thing.” Denali carefully re-pins the lion on Rosé’s jacket, ignoring how the touch reminds her of the kiss–just a game, just a game. She’ll have to deal with the kiss at some point, but not now. “Let’s go. We’ve got a game to win.”

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #hunger games au #angst #hurt/comfort #ever in your favor #athena2 #tw blood #tw injury #concrit welcome

8 notes · View notes