#where I'd get up early in the morning to be alone in the kitchen

[mintacle]

What I need:

Jason Todd in his slightly messy but homey kitchen at 7am watching the sun rise out his window. Hair messy from sleep and wearing boxers and a t-shirt, slight chubby belly (dadbod), just a bit unshaven, leaning his chin on one hand as he slowly drinks his morning tea/coffee.

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[lucentloo]

Gift Giving

Summary: Spencer and reader share the love language of gift giving, however, Spencer seems to get reader gifts that she feels like she shouldn’t have since she can’t afford the same for him. 

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Wc: 1740

Content Warnings: Female reader, somewhat poor reader, not feeling good enough, gift giving love language for both Spencer and reader, no y/n, first fic ever, there might be swearing but I doubt it, season 6/7 Spencer, reader works in a restaurant, that should be all (If I’ve missed any please tell me)

a/n: I'm sorry if this sucks really bad but it's my first time writing and I thought I'd give it a try, thank you for reading and if you have any tips for me to get any better please share, have a nice day/night!

You’re staring at the small box on your counter as you hold the phone to your ear waiting for Spencer to pick up. The case he's working on is a crazy one though so you don't have much hope. You wait a few more seconds before giving up and stopping the call. The box on the counter is black with a pristine white ribbon tied and a bow on top. This is the third gift this month from your boyfriend and he doesn’t even have a reason.

You chew your lip as your eyes narrow at the box as if your glare could make it disappear from your kitchen. But alas, it stays exactly where it is. 

You don't hate the gifts, in fact gift giving is one of your love languages, you just feel so guilty that you can’t give Spencer anything back. You’ve tried to buy him something nice one time but that left you without food for a week and you couldn’t do that again without starving yourself. 

With a sigh you grab the box with the silver necklace and make your way to your bedroom to get ready for bed. After you shower and get into your pajamas (Spencer's hoodie and fuzzy socks) you climb into bed and contemplate what to do.

Ever since you were little you were always the kid with the worst birthday present at parties, or you were never the wished upon secret santa at christmas. You don’t have enough money to lavish your love on Spencer like you wish you did. It made you feel bad whenever you got something knowing you couldn’t get him anything like it in return.

You turn on your side and try to push away that persistent feeling that you’re not doing enough, that Spencer deserves someone who can afford to love him. Eventually you grow too tired to think anymore and slip your eyes shut. Sleep comes easier than it should that night and you’re only woken by your alarm early in the morning.

Spencer was worried.

He usually feels at ease with you and knows he can trust you to take care of yourself when he’s gone. However, this week you’ve barely seen him let alone your own bed. Anytime Spencer calls to hang out or take you out on a date he’s interrupted by a, “sorry handsome I’ve picked up the night shift,” or, “I’m filling in for Sandy since she’s out for the day, sorry baby,” and he can’t seem to find a time, day or night, that you’re available.

So he comes up with the only solution. He’s going to your work to forcefully pull you away from your job and take you to his apartment. When he gets there he’s surprised to see that the restaurant is quiet and not bustling like usual. He only spots two people eating at a table and one server walking around. That server isn’t you.

Spencer walks up to the server, Kate, and asks if you’re on break.

Kate looks at Spencer in surprise. “Um no, she left a few minutes ago to go home. The boss made her, apparently she’s been here for, like, three days straight.” she says the last part in a whisper like she’s gossiping to her friend in her high school cafeteria.

Spencer nods and whispers a quick “Thank you” before going back out to the parking lot. He knew he saw your car when he drove in here and decides to check the employees parking, just for reassurance.

Sure enough when he got there he saw your car parked right in front of the back entrance. The car was on and it looked like it was ready to go at any minute. Spencer furrowed his brows as he got closer and looked through your window. There you were, in your car with your uniform still on, sleeping like a baby.

Spencer smiled despite his concern, admiring your peaceful state in the quiet of the night. He doesn’t want to wake you from your sleep knowing it’s probably the most you’ve gotten all week but he needs to make sure you’re okay. 

Spencer knocks on your window and gives a slight chuckle when you jump up in shock. He smiles awkwardly and gives a little wave as you look at him with hard eyes that turn soft when you realize who it is. You unlock the door and step out with a stretch. You yawn before slumping against Spencer.

“Hey baby, why are you sleeping in your car?” Spencer asks softly. He’s trying not to wake you up too much as he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you upright. His heartbeat soothes you enough to let you stay in the drowsy state you find yourself in. Spencer feels you lean more weight on him as your arms encircle his slender form.

“Got off work and felt too tired to drive home.” It was hard to understand you since your face was pressed against Spencer's chest but he heard you well enough to look down at you in concern. He held onto you tighter as he sighed before bending down to pick you up. 

“Let’s get you home sweet girl,” Spencer whispers into your ear as you shut your eyes again and fall back asleep. 

When you wake up the next morning the first thing you register is Spencer's arms around your torso and his breaths blowing down your neck. You groan and shield your eyes from the sun that shines through the curtain and turn your body until you’re cuddled up into Spencer's hold. Your face is pushed into his chest to better hide yourself from the light. 

Spencer shifts slightly and you feel his hand start rubbing up and down the expense of your back. You take a breath in and you’re immediately comforted by the familiar smell of Spencer. He somehow still smells like coffee despite just waking up and he’s got the lingering smell of his cologne that he wore the night before.

 You pull back slowly to look into at him with a small smile before recognition flashes through your eyes. “I’m not at work,” you whisper to Spencer, “I had an early shift today, Spence, baby, I need to be at work.” You try to untangle yourself from Spencer’s tight hold on you but don’t succeed. “Spencer, I'm not joking. I need to leave.”

Spencer shakes his head. “No.”

You look at him, not amused. “No?”

Spencer shakes his head again as his arms hold you impossibly tighter. “No.”

You sigh and stop struggling. Finally looking into his eyes you see the confusion and concern that’s directed at you. And damn does that make you feel guilty. The little seed that was planted at the beginning of the week just keeps growing and growing.

Spencer seems to sense the conflict you feel and kisses the top of your head. “I need you to take a break and tell me what’s going on. You’ve been distant and short with me, and I miss you, I want to see you.” Spencer whispers the confession in the silent room and it makes you tear up a little.

Your head lowers as you try to hide yourself under his blanket. The embarrassment floods through you as guilt eats your inside whole. “I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to say to him. 

Spencer hums in acknowledgment before sitting up and bringing you with him. He sits you on his lap so you’re facing him and he lifts your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “Baby, there’s no need to say sorry, just tell me what's going on in that head of yours, hm?” 

You take a shaky breath in before slowly letting it out to keep your tears at bay. The attempt seems futile though as you can’t seem to hold it together. “I can’t get you anything nice.” You say in a whimper as small sobs escape your lips and you hide your face in his neck.

Spencer’s lips turn down in concern as he thinks about what you just said. His thumb draws small circles on your waist as he contemplates how to go about this. “What do you mean sweetie? You give me nice things all the time.” Spencer tries to point out the things you’ve given him in the past - cookies, a new tie, the pen he uses every day - but it just makes you feel even worse. Those are things that shouldn’t even be considered gifts, let alone nice ones.

“No, n-no, you always get me these necklaces and, and books, and things that I could never afford.” Your sobs interrupt your speech slightly but It doesn’t deter you. “I just want to repay you, give you something nice for a, a change but instead I wo-worry you.” You burst into tears again as you squeeze Spencer tighter.

“Woah, woah, okay, hey, it’s okay. Baby I don’t need those kinds of gifts, I just need you. Is that why you were overworking yourself?” Spencer asks in a worried tone. His lips find the top of your head again as you nod your head against his neck. You hear him sigh before pulling back slightly. You raise your head to look at him and he wipes your tears away when he cups your cheek.

“Your health and happiness come way before an object I don’t even need.” He says in a stern yet soft voice. You lower your head to hide your face but he moves his head as well to keep eye contact. “Hey, I’m being serious, I don’t want you to work yourself crazy just to afford a gift. You’re way too important to me.” Spencer whispers the last part before giving you a soft kiss. 

You sigh after the kiss and look up at Spencer. “But that’s how I show my love, I don’t see you a lot so I like to give you gifts.” Spencer smiles as his thumb strokes your cheek.

“So keep giving me cookies and pens, they really do make my day.” Spencer goes in for another kiss that has you smiling more than you have in days. 

“Okay,” You whisper against his mouth.

Spencer kisses your cheek, then nose, then your other cheek, then your eyebrows, he does this until you’re a giggling mess. “I love you so much.” He finally says as he kisses your lips again.

“I love you too.”

[captainsophiestark]

Did I Forget to Mention?

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day Twelve Prompt: "Did you hear that?"

Summary: Nik's SO *might* have forgotten to tell their Mystic Falls friends about their relationship with a certain hybrid. But it's not going to stay secret for much longer.

Word Count: 2,381

Category: Fluff, little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Okay, I'm calling it! Semesters suck, I'd give anything to be on a quarter system if it meant not having homework on spring break."

My friends laughed, even as I groaned and collapsed back into the couch. I got one week to take a break from school, and a small window to reunite with my friends back in Mystic Falls who'd all gone to Whitmore. We were supposed to spend the whole week having fun starting tomorrow morning, but they'd surprised me by showing up at my house tonight to get the party started early. Unfortunately, a few of my classes had given me homework, and I couldn't give in to spring break until I took care of it.

"I have a feeling you're gonna be singing a different tune in May when you're out of class and we've all still got another month left," said Bonnie with a smile.

"You're just lucky we want to enjoy the break with you," Elena added. "Otherwise we'd be getting payback for you showing up to campus during finals week to 'relax and tan'."

"Hey! I also showed up as moral support, thank you very much!"

"How was that morally supportive?" asked Caroline.

"I brought you coffees! And I was exemplifying the light at the end of the tunnel for you guys, when you finished your tests and could join me in summer fun!"

"Oh! Okay, of course," said Caroline in a tone that I knew should make me concerned. "I forgot, you're right. We'll go make some drinks and leave you to finish this, maybe play some music, so we can model that spring break fun, light at the end of the tunnel for you."

"No," I whined, flopping back onto the couch again. "Point taken, and I'm sorry. Just please don't leave me to this homework alone."

"We won't," Elena reassured me, reaching out to rest her hand on my arm. "But... the three of us might make drinks anyway."

I groaned, grabbing a pillow and burying my face in it. Finally, I sighed, sitting upright again.

"Fine. You know where all the stuff is. Just... try not to get so buzzed you tell me to edit a bunch of ridiculous stuff into my paper, okay?"

"No promises!" chirped Caroline as my three friends all stood. I sighed, but before they could get any further out of the room, a loud thud came from the direction of the kitchen.

All three of us froze in our tracks. We'd spent way too much time dealing with supernatural headaches not to go on high alert after something like that.

"Did you hear that?" hissed Caroline. We all nodded, so I gestured for the four of us to head towards the kichen and check it out.

If it was a vampire, it had to be one who'd already been invited in. If it was a different kind of supernatural creature, between the four of us, we should probably be able to handle it. Still, it never hurt to be cautious. Surprises happened all the time, and they could be deadly.

We took up positions just outside the kitchen, then Caroline counted us down with her fingers. When she dropped the last one, all four of us whirled around the corner, ready for action.

I stopped dead at the sight of Klaus Mikaelson hovering by my kitchen island, my heart dropping in my chest. Caroline and Elena both looked ready for a fight, but Bonnie beat them both to it. She raised her hand, and Nik dropped to the ground, holding his head.

"Stop!" I cried, rushing forward and yanking Bonnie's hand down. She stared at me, shocked, outraged, and confused, but to my relief I saw Nik stand up out of the corner of my eye.

Silence settled over the kitchen. Every single person was looking at me, my friends all with incredulous looks and scowls, Nik with a faint smile. For my part, I actually found myself wishing I could go back to my classwork. Just as long as I could be anywhere but here.

Unfortunately, I didn't get my wish. Nik took a deep breath in, and I knew if I didn't speak quickly, he'd take over the explanations for me. As bad as this situation was, I knew that would only make it worse.

I'd been invovled in the Mikaelson drama with the rest of my friends while they'd been living in Mystic Falls, but once they left, I hadn't really given them much more thought.

That is, until I ended up going to college in New Orleans. Klaus and I had run into each other at an art exhibit, and it functioned as a kind of neutral territory. We were both pretty opinionated, and we'd ended up spending the most of the day together, first talking about the exhibit but quickly moving on to other topics, too. We'd had a strange kind of reconnection, although we hadn't really been connected in the first place, and within a few weeks he'd asked me on a date and I'd said yes. We'd been dating since that freshman fall, and recently, I'd caught myself thinking the word love more than once. But I'd been serioiusly, seriously putting off telling my friends back home.

I'd managed to dodge telling them for two whole school breaks now. But apparently, with spring break, my luck was finally running out.

"Alright," I started, holding up my hands before Nik could jump in. "So... Nik and I have been... together... for a while now. We ran into each other again in New Orleans and just kind of hit it off. I didn't want to tell you guys becuase, well... I didn't think you'd take it well."

No one said anything for a moment, like my words were on a slight time delay. Then, all three of my friends started shouting at once.

"Are you kidding me?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Out of every single person in New Orleans, in the world, why the hell did you pick him?"

Nik stepped up beside me as all three of my friends had their reactions. Honestly, I couldn't blame them. It was a justified reaction, especially after how seriously they'd been blindsided. Nik didn't seem the least bit phased as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

"I'm sorry, love," he muttered into my ear. "I didn't realize your little friends were over."

I just sighed. "It's not your fault, Nik. I should've told them a long time ago. Don't worry, they'll be fine."

As one, our attention returned to my friends, who were now glaring at the two of us. I grimaced, but Nik seemed to enjoy the negative attention. He grinned and pulled me in closer to his side.

Bonnie looked on the verge of using magic again, and Caroline seemed about two seconds away from charging Nik to start a fist fight, so I gave his shoulder a squeeze and gently stepped away from him.

"Guys... I'm sorry. I should've told you a long time ago, and I shouldn't have put you in a situation to find out like this."

"Or, how about you shouldn't be dating the guy who tried to kill us all in the first place!" Caroline shouted, unable to contain herself anymore. I grimaced, but didn't step any further away from Nik.

"That's... a fair reaction. But seriously, I'm happy. Happier than I've ever been. And it's not like he's trying to kill any of us anymore-"

"At least not right now," chorused Nik and Bonnie in sync, with two very different tones to their words. Bonnie fixed him with a fierce glare, and I winced.

"Okay, maybe we should all sit down and talk," I said. "Or the four of us can talk, and I can ask Nik to come back later-"

"No way," said Caroline, raising her hands and taking a few steps back as she shook her head. "If he's staying, I'm not."

"Caroline-"

"I need a walk."

With that, she turned and vamp sped out of the house. With a look at me, Elena followed her. Bonnie started drifting in that direction, too, but she paused first, with a scowl at Nik before giving me a slightly less hostile look.

"I'm glad you're happy. Really, I am. But you might want to consider the cost that happiness is coming with."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I sighed the minute she was out of sight, slouching against the corner and sighing. That could've gone much, much better.

"They took that better than expected," mused Nik from beside me. I groaned, and I heard him huff a laugh.

When I straightened up and met his eyes, however, I noticed the slightly guarded expression behind his eyes. It had taken a lot of work to get good at reading Nik, and I still couldn't do it with 100% accuracy. But even so, I knew he wasn't nearly as calm and unaffected as he looked right now.

I sighed. My friends weren't the only people I needed to have a serious conversation with.

"Nik..." I started, taking his hand and settling into one of the stools at the kitchen counter. I pulled him onto the one next to mine, scooting closer until our knees were pressed together and I could keep him close for this conversation. "I'm sorry. I should've told them a long, long time ago. And I want you to know... I didn't tell them because I didn't want to deal with the reaction I knew they'd have. Not because of anything to do with you."

Nik's eyes flickered, scanning my face. I gave his hand a squeeze, but I could tell we weren't out of the woods yet.

"Isn't their reaction everything to do with me?" he asked, his voice low and serious. I recognized the edged glint in his eye as something that usually spelled trouble. I sighed.

"Their reaction is because they don't like you, yes. But my decision not to tell them had nothing to do with you. I would've been just as hesitant to tell them I was dating a guy they didn't like in our class at Mystic Falls. But with you... I should've told them earlier."

"And why's that? You wish they hadn't found me in your kitchen? Wish you could've told them while I was a few states away, so no one would have to face the reality of the two of us being together?"

"No, Nik. I mean, yes, I wish they'd found out differently than this. But I should've told them earlier because... because I have serious feelings for you. And they're serious enough that I don't want to hide them or you. Ever."

Nik raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth lifting up in the faintest hint of a smile. I smiled too, recognizing the shift in his mood.

"And what, exactly, might these 'serious feelings' be?"

His tone was mostly teasing, but I decided to take it seriously. I took his other hand, then pulled both into my lap, holding them tight. I met his eyes, making sure he understood just how much I meant my words.

"I love you, Nik. I've been feeling that way for a while now. I'm honestly happier than I've ever been, and you're a big part of that. I love my friends, and I know they'll come around eventually, but until they do? That's their problem. You mean the world to me, and... I mean, yeah, like I said. I love you."

A smile had been growing on Nik's face, and by the time I finished, it was a full-on grin that I only got to see from him every once in a while. He pulled me closer, off of my stool until I stood between his legs, chest to chest with him.

"You love me, do you?"

"Yeah." I nodded, my heart beating out of my chest in my rib cage. I felt pretty confident that Nik returned my feelings, but that didn't take away any of the nerves. "Can't you tell? You're supposed to be able to hear heart rates, aren't you?"

Nik chuckled, pulling me even closer to him for a kiss. I melted against him, happy to feel him smiling against my mouth as his arms wound around my waist. After a few breathless moments, Nik pulled back just enough to speak.

"I love you too," he said, his voice low and his breath fanning against my lips. "Don't worry for a moment that I don't. I would do anything for you. And it's a bit ridiculous how much I mean that."

I smiled, closing the distance between us again as I kissed him.

"I'm glad you came to visit me," I whispered when we paused just long enough to take a breath. "I'm glad my friends know. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad you know I love you."

"I agree with all of the above," Nik said with a smirk. "And I'm glad your friends are gone, and that we have the house to ourselves."

Nik leaned forward to deepen the kiss, but I leaned back. I put one hand on his chest and grimaced. He raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem, love?"

"...I may or may not have a paper to finish. Tonight."

"Are you sure it has to be done tonight?" asked Nik, his voice low and silky smooth as he ran a hand over my hip. I just sighed.

"Yeah, babe, I'm sure. But... if you can help me get it done, then I'm all yours for the rest of the night."

Nik pulled back quickly, looking at me with one eyebrow raised and an eager expression on his face. I put a hand to my mouth to stifle a smile at his 180 degree mood shift.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's get that paper finished, love. I've got quite a few ideas for tonight."

I just laughed as I followed Nik into the living room. I had a feeling we were in for a rough ride the rest of this spring break dealing with my friends. But I really did love Nik. I was happy with him, and if we could find a way to stay together in our own little bubble of bliss despite the crazy supernatural shenanigans in New Orleans, I knew we'd be able to figure it out in Mystic Falls, too.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[mrsnancywheeler]

let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this blurb

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

masterlist

3.8k words

warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.

He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.

At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.

“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.

“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.

“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.

Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."

“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.

“I'd rather go alone."

“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."

“I'm okay."

You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.

“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.

“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.

You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"

“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"

You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.

"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”

"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”

“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."

Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.

You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.

“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.

“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.

“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.

He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.

“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.

Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.

“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.

“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”

Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.

As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.

“Yeah."

“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.

You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.

The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.

“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.

You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.

You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.

“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”

"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.

He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.

“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?

“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?

You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.

‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.

“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.

Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know."

You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.

“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.

You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.

“Where's the necklace?"

“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.

He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.

“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.

For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."

Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.

“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.

“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.

Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”

"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”

"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.

You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."

“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.

“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.

“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.

“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.

"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.

His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

[skzstannie]

"Let the memory-making commence"

SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: fluff wc: ~2100 cw: none :) summary: After an emotional night, the boys cheer you up and try to give you something to look forward to surrounding the holidays again.

Here's Part 2 to "We'd never want you to struggle alone" Alsooo, I hit 100 followers a couple days ago, so THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Reblogs are more than appreciated!

Happy Scrolling! || Masterlist

Previously:

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

So, the guys set out on their mission early the next morning, figuring they better start as soon as possible. After all, they had so many fun things they wanted to do with you before Christmas Day.

You were abruptly brought out of your peaceful slumber from an added weight landing atop your stomach. You startle, opening your eyes to be met with Hyunjin’s hair brushing up against your cheeks. You try to push him off you, holding up your title of being a grumpy morning person, but he won’t budge.

“Get up!” he whines, shaking your shoulders. “It’s already 8:30, and we can’t just let you sleep all day!”

“I’m not asking to sleep all day. I’m asking to sleep until 10, now please get off,” you struggle some more, pushing with all your might. You quickly give up though, finding your attempts futile against Hyunjin’s size and stubbornness.

“No can do, up and at ‘em sunshine!” he grips your blankets and whips them off you in a flash, leaving you shivering from the cold temperature of your room. He’s quick to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he begins to make his way out of your room.

Your fists pound on his back, your only desire to go lay back down in your warm bed. This doesn’t deter him however, so you give him a nice firm smack to his butt, making him yelp. You swiftly wrap your arms around his waist as he lets you slip a little off his shoulder.

“Hwang Hyunjin don’t you drop me!” you yell, holding onto him for dear life.

“I won’t, I won’t. That just hurt really bad, you little menace!” He puts you down once you’ve arrived in the kitchen, and his hands immediately reach back to massage his poor bum.

“Well, that wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d have let me sleep another hour,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ok, no more Ms. Grumpy Pants, I only wanna make cookies with Ms. Sunshine, so if you could please find out where she is, that'd be great,” he retorts, a sarcastic smile taking over his features.

You roll your eyes but give in, allowing your lips to curve up into a genuine smile.

Hyunjin starts to gather the ingredients for making cookies, slamming cupboards left and right. As you busy yourself doing the same, you look up towards the kitchen entryway upon hearing some ruckus from the hallway. Seungmin and Felix practically bounce into the kitchen, looking way too excited for 8:30 in the morning.

Seungmin makes his way over to you, holding an extra apron that he plops over your head, tying it loosely around your waist. “Thanks Minnie,” you tell him, turning around to give his arm a gentle pat.

“Alright, let the memory-making commence,” Felix claps his hands and giving them a quick wash in the sink, reaching for a stainless steel bowl Hyunjin had set on the counter. “If we wait too much longer, everybody else will get up and crash our cookie making party.”

All was going smoothly, the four of you working together and following a recipe Felix had printed out, until Seungmin got a little antsy and decided to flick Hyunjin in the forehead with a flour-covered finger.

Seungmin laughs at seeing Hyunjin’s expression. “Flour boy,” he calls Hyunjin, breaking out in even more giggles.

In retaliation, Hyunjin grabs a fistful of flour and launches it at Seungmin’s face, leaving the poor boy coughing.

Of course, all hell breaks loose after that, and by the end of your food fight, all four of you end up absolutely covered in flour with a single egg plastered against the fridge door.

You guys managed to finish the cookies, having barely enough flour to make the batches. Once they’ve gone in the oven, the four of you decide to go shower and get cleaned up while they bake.

All the other guys have woken up by the time you’re finished with your shower. They’re all sat around the kitchen, the aroma from the cookies no doubt drawing them in. Chan goes over the plans for today, and you smile at his thoughtfulness. After breakfast- a.k.a Christmas cookies- you’re all going to go sledding, then come back to the dorms for dinner and a Christmas movie marathon.

After you’ve all eaten one too many cookies, everyone goes to get dressed for your first group activity of the day: sledding.

You realize you don’t have any appropriate clothing for sledding, the snow sure to seep through the nice coat you have, so you ask Seungmin if he has any extra garments that'll keep you warmer.

"Yea, let me find some really quick," he responds, diving deep into his well-organized closet. He comes up with two pairs of gloves, one slimmer and one thicker, a thermal, long sleeved turtle neck, a hoodie, and a huge winter coat.

"All of this will not fit on my body at once, Seungmin," you comment exasperatedly, overwhelmed by the weight of the clothes he just threw in your arms.

"Yes they will, and you will be warm. Go get dressed, we're leaving in a few minutes," he dismisses your concerns, leaving no room for discussion. He gives you a light push out of his room so he could get himself dressed and shuts the door in your face.

"Thanks!" you shout through the door, heading back to your room to layer up.

After putting on all the clothes Seungmin gave you, you feel like a marshmallow. A big puff ball, if you will.

You walk to the living room where everyone is waiting for you, ready to complain about how you are not going out in public like this.

They are quick to rebut, telling you how adorable you look while pulling you out the front door towards the readied van in the parking lot.

The drive is uncomfortable, all your winter gear making you all hot, everyone fitting a little tighter in their seats than normal. The ride is short, though, only about 10 minutes before you're all allowed freedom of the outside once again.

You let out a small chuckle upon seeing the hill you'll be sledding down. It's small, no taller than 20 feet, but the guys assure you it'll still be fun. Upon some further digging, you find out you're manager requested you partake in absolutely zero dangerous activities during your day off, and this is all the guys could convince him of.

You guys make your way up the hill, Jeongin and Felix dragging the sleds up. To make things more interesting, everyone decides two people will race down the hill at the same time, and the winner will be decided tournament-style.

Chan and Hyunjin go first, and Hyunjin wins by just a few feet. Next is Felix and Minho, and Minho pulls out ahead. Seungmin and Changbin go next, and Changbin wins by default because Seungmin wiped out about half way down the hill. You and Jeongin, being the maknaes, decide to team up against everyone else and ride together. Of course, this doesn't go without complaints from the rest of the members, Hyunjin giving you guys the nastiest side eye he could muster. The maknaes come out on top, beating Jisung by a landslide. Maybe it's because your sled had twice as much weight on it, or maybe it's because you guys are just better; it's up for debate.

By the end of the day, you and Jeongin reign champions. You all continue to sled for a while longer, and eventually your peaceful sledding session turned into a brutal snowball fight.

The culprit of the snowball fight was Minho, deciding it'd be fun to shove a handful of snow down Jisung's jacket. This of course lead to the development of two teams, Maknae line versus Hyung line.

You guys pelt the oldies for a few minutes, obviously gaining the upper-hand once your makeshift snow fort was built, courtesy of Felix and Jisung. However, you guys surrender once Jeongin is captured and threatened with handfuls of snow down his pants.

Once arriving at home, hot showers are in need, all your fingers and toes frozen to the bone. You get dressed in your coziest pyjamas, accompanied by a big hoodie and fluffy socks.

Chan takes it upon himself to order food in for everyone, and you all thank him before deciding on which Christmas movie to watch.

You reveal that one of your favorites used to be How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Jim Carrey version, and everyone agrees to start with that one.

Your food arrives about a third of the way into the movie, and you all indulge on the much needed meal. You have some more Christmas cookies for dessert, and by the time you're finished with the food, the movie is over.

You all make light fun of Hyunjin for crying over the ending, but allow him to choose the next movie to try and put a stop to his dramatics. He chooses National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and you're thankful for another comedy.

While the day has been quite fun, watching movies isn't as thought-provoking as a snowball fight, allowing some of your anxieties and negative thoughts to creep into the back of your mind.

You miss your family. You miss the way your grandma used to sit and listen to all your school drama and the way she'd gasp when you'd tell her what your best friend had done for a boy. You miss the way your father used to buy you a pair of earrings every year for Christmas. You still had every pair, your first being cute little bunny studs, and your last being a beautiful pair of Sterling Silver hoops. You miss your grandfather's sarcastic remarks; your mom found them insulting but you always thought they were funny. You miss your mom. Everything about her- her home cooking, her hugs, the way she'd always know what to put in your stocking.

You know now, after today, that it's okay to miss those things. You're supposed to miss your loved ones. However, it is not okay to live in the past and despise change. Your mom would've wanted you to celebrate Christmas with a family as loving as the one you have here surrounding you. You know she would've loved your members, every single one of them.

She would've loved the way I.N was your partner in crime in life, never backing down when you ask him if he wants to prank Chan with you. She would've loved the way Seungmin acted like your older brother, teasing you every chance he gets. She would've loved how happy Felix is, always acting as your light in the darkness. She would've been proud of Han for fighting through his anxiety and how he helped you with yours, never letting you feel alone. Your mom would've loved Hyunjin's art, the way he paints his soul on paper with a singular brush. Your mom would've been impressed by Changbin's health journey and motivation, and she probably would've secretly convinced him to drag you to the gym with him. Your mom would've admired Minho's gentleness towards animals and his love for his cats. Lastly, your mom would've loved the way Chan takes care of you, always making sure you're happy and well.

Thinking back to yesterday and how thoughtful and caring everyone had been, you decide to tell them your creeping thoughts. They, of course, comfort you, Changbin pulling you closer from your spot between him and Minho on the couch. They ask if you want to elaborate on your feelings, but you tell them no. It had been such a fun day, and for the sake of your mental health, you choose to try and busy your mind with the plot of the movie.

This works in your favor, and you’re able to replace your thoughts with laughter. Towards the end of the film, Changbin's comforting hold has begun to lull you to sleep, too comfortable and warm to keep your eyes open any longer.

"Thank you guys for such an amazing day. I had a lot of fun," you mumble into Changbin's shoulder, pulling everyone away from the movie for a second.

You hear a chorus of coos and whispered affirmations before you officially let sleep takeover your restless mind and body.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Slip

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: At some point or another, the words slip out. It's just that, naturally, you're an idiot who can't pick the right moment.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for reader, night terrors, disassociation, attempted comfort, miscommunication, brief non sexual shower scene, unintentional harm, anxiety, sweet ending. (fr this time, I'm not pulling a 'Repentance.') Slight spoilers for 'Petals On The Wind' by V.C. Andrews.

Notes: I had a vision and I tried. Pls give me mercy.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

The night air is sweet, fresh with the smell of citrus from the soap I had used earlier that evening in my shower mixed with the damp smell of the dew forming on the grass and the leaves outside. The curtains shift slightly as the air spills into the dark room, the only light born by a small lamp clipped to the cover of my book as I read quietly.

Beside me lays Mike, facing the ceiling and looking as peaceful as he ever could. It was a relaxation that doesn't come to him in consciousness, too busy with thoughts I sometimes am not privy too. But I don't pry. I've heard most of the story from him and from Abby, and he is allowed to grieve the past alone. He knows I am always available to help him.

It had been a long day for him. He didn't need to tell me, it was obvious by the way he'd sat at the kitchen table, thinking he was alone and hands buried in his hair. I hadn't meant to spy on him, having just slipped out of my shower. He wasn't crying, but his face was pale and dreadful. The bags under his eyes a dark purple that they hadn't been earlier at dinner, and the haunted quality of his stare had increased in an alarming manner since I'd left him. Had he moved since dinner? Abby was in her room, her voice trailing quietly down the hall as she hummed to herself behind the closed door. The overhead yellow light directly above Michael made him look like a painting of doom, covered in shadows with sharp edges as dark as his thoughts.

When I guided him to bed he wouldn't talk to me. Not when I removed his shirt to change him into something clean. Not when I opened the bottle of pills he'd been able to relax on for the past couple weeks. And not when I held a glass of water to his lips, his mouth only moving to take a long drink before I guided him onto his back, where he stared at the ceiling quietly while I stroked his hair, watching him carefully until he drifted away into a drugged dream of obliviousness where hopefully he could find the peace he needed.

More often than not I read before bed. Usually Mike would lay his head on my chest, his eyes reading the same bits I would and commenting on something here or there, once in a while spoiling the next paragraph for me. But I never minded when he did, it was always an accident.

It did get to the point where Mike imposed a limit of two chapters a night, knowing I could become so enraptured in a story I wouldn't even pay attention to the world around me until I finished it, usually with the early light beginning to peak through the branches outside and create dancing rays of sun along our bed. It wasn't really a rule, more so a concerned request. There was no punishment if I didn't comply, if I deprived myself of sleep reading all that would exist as a reprimand is my own exhaustion. Mike would always silently pick up on this, more gentle with me and luring me away from my nightly ritual with his arms wrapped around my tired body, fingers combing through my hair and his even breathing coaxing me into the sleep I needed until his alarm would wake us, still wrapped around each other and warm in the morning glow of a new day with a new chapter. And recently I realized it was something about him I loved. Though I dare not say it out loud. Not yet.

I'm only a handful chapters into this book. It's one that I've read before, an ironic favorite from when I was younger and snuck books home that I'd borrowed from the woman next door after playing with her granddaughters. The subject of the novel was taboo, Gothic horror I would hide under my bed away from my mother's eyes until she would lay in her own bed, allowing me to click on a light and read until school the next morning. It's been years since I've revisited it, and this copy I had bought at a local thrift store for only a quarter with an excited smile, causing an amused look on Mike's face as he'd watched me.

"Shouldn't you read something you already own?" He'd teased while we walked out of the store hand in hand, Abby leading the way to our car.

I'd rolled my eyes, smiling as I checked for cars coming through the parking lot with no regard for little girls.

"Am I not allowed to spend a quarter on my passions?" I said.

"You absolutely are. I'm just wondering how you're going to read everything," he said with a small squeeze of his hand.

The answer is by drinking a cup of tea and working through the book in one sitting as he lays next to me, no work ahead of me for the next two days that would demand proper rest. No limitation able to stop me now. I'm a few hours into my plan when I notice his leg jolt beside mine, no movement otherwise.

I glance at him quickly, seeing if he's woken with a start. His eyes remain closed, lips parted slightly in sleep and otherwise seeming fine. So I resume my book, flipping to the next page to start chapter eleven.

Halfway through chapter thirteen, Mike gasps. Loud and quick, causing a cough to escape him. I slip a finger inbetween my pages, turning to face him and worry stabbing my chest as I wait for him to choke and thrash frantically. But he doesn't. He remains still, his pulse visible near his adams apple as his breath quickens slightly. I watch him, waiting for any signs of distress. But he remains still in sleep, and reluctantly I return to my book once more, having decided it was just a dream.

Finally, at the early hour of four o'clock his hand reaches out, nails digging into my thigh desperately in a way that's painful against my bare skin, raking down and surely creating a trail of blood in his wake as a short, startled yell of Abby's name pierces the air, his body going ridged. And then he's still, body shaking and eyes wide open in confusion, darting around the room as though he cannot place his environment in his still drugged state.

"Hey," I say softly, abandoning my book and turning to face him, unsure if I should touch him or what I need to say to tear him away from the horrors of his mind. "You're okay, you're awake now."

If he hears me he doesn't give any indication, his breathing so quick and unsteady I'm scared he'll knock himself out from hyperventilating.

"It's okay, it was a dream," I tell him. I place my hand apprehensively on his chest, feeling his heart slam against the cage of ribs below my touch. "You're awake now."

His head turns slightly towards me, but he's still panicking, his hand gripping my thigh hard enough hard with nails he hadn't meant to let grow out for the past couple weeks that I have to make a conscious effort to not whine in pain.

He's saying something, quiet and mixing with his irregular breathing as his other hand grabs my hand upon his chest, pressing it tightly against him. But I can't make it out, I can only hear fragments of 'sorry' and 'take.' And the words only blur more as he starts sobbing beside me, the noises he makes terrifying as he struggles for air.

"Let's sit up. Come on, let's sit up," I say. I'm close to panic myself, trying to find his shoulders to pull him up in fear of him choking in such a state. But his hand is too tight around mine, and trying to take it away seems to only cause further distress, his teeth gritting and nostrils flailing as he tries to breathe in as much air as possible. I manage to get one arm under his shoulders, wrapping it around his body and pulling us both up. The shift of his body seems to make something click, his hand suddenly releasing my thigh as he gasps once more, eyes seeming to show recognition of something.

"You're home. We're in our room, Abby is down the hall," I tell him.

"They'll come here, they knew where we live," he says in a rapid but finally coherent voice.

"Who?" I ask. He's scaring me, making me want to join him in my own hysteria. But I don't show it, the pain throbbing in my leg giving me a point of focus to keep my voice even. "No one's coming."

"My aunt- she- they-"

"She's not coming over, no one's coming to take Abby," I tell him, stroking him arm and trying to shift my body to face his. "Everyone's home and safe. I won't let anyone go."

This seems to hit him, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He looks at my face, staring and trying to focus on me.

"I won't let anyone go anywhere," I repeat gently. His shoulders relax, his body leaning towards mine.

"You don't have to worry," I tell him. "I'm here."

His head lands on my shoulder, hand still pressing mine tight against his chest as his arm finds my waist, body wracking with sobs.

"It's okay. Slow your breathing," I say softly, my hand finding his hair and holding him close against me. "Focus on me and slow your breathing."

He's trying, I can tell by the way he gasps against my chest in even tempo that he's trying to regain his breath. His skin is hot against mine, body wet with sweat. Maybe I should get this shirt off of him, take away the sticking cotton and allow his skin to feel the cool morning air against it to prevent overstimulation. Or maybe the sudden change would throw him into more distress. I don't know what to do, what to offer.

"Do you want me to distract you?" I ask. At this he lifts his head slightly, a small 'what?' Asking for me to repeat the question. "Do you want me to distract you?" I repeat, anxious I've said something wrong.

He seems to think for a moment, his heart still beating at a concerning rate.

"How long have you been reading?" He finally asks, eyeing the book I'd practically thrown to the edge of the bed in my panic.

"A few hours," I say. "Started reading when you went to sleep."

He nods, going silent once more for a few more minutes. I focus on his hair, how some curls wrap perfectly around my fingertips, how soft his hair is even though he doesn't take proper care of it.

"Is it any good?" He asks softly, his mouth against my neck as he tries to relax.

Okay, talk about the book. Book with dead parents. Ah, fuck.

"Not... particularly," I admit. "The first one was better."

"Yeah?" Mike asks. "How so?"

Well, Mike. This is a V.C. Andrews novel. So there's an unsettling amount of incest that serves a horrifying point that I don't think you wanna hear about right now because that's gonna take several hours for me to explain. I wish you'd asked sooner.

"...questionable decisions," I decide is how I'll phrase it.

"Sounds like me," he mutters against my skin.

"I promise you it isn't," I mutter back, trying to think of what to say next.

Mike doesn't say anything, still breathing hard against my skin but finally gaining a steady rhythm. His body shakes less, my fingers gently combing through his hair as I finally speak again.

"It's something you'd laugh at if you felt better," I feel stupid, useless as I try to bring him back to me. But it seems to work, his shaking decreasing as he focuses on my words. "The main character is... dramatic, and... passionate."

I feel his smile against my skin, his fingers stroking my waist. "Oh?" He asks.

"Mm-hmm," I say. He hums, waiting for me to continue. And I'm not sure if I should.

"What's the plot?" He asks. Not something you should hear in your state, Michael. Lots of people die.

"It's about..."

Fucking half the town out of spite.

"...family."

That's one way to put it.

"And... doing what's right."

By burning a house down.

"And taking care of those you love."

Well, at least that point is accurate.

He seems content with this, pulling me down onto the bed once more and keeping me close.

"Are you okay?" I ask him carefully.

"I will be," he says softly. "Thank you. For caring."

"Of course I care," I say with a small laugh of nervous relief. "I love you."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh motherfucker, no.

"What?" Mike asks in a small voice, his body going still, mine going stiff.

Goddammit.

We've been together for about a year. And this is a normal point to finally say the words to each other, a sweet moment of realization and commitment that I'd been wanting to have. And I'd been trying to find the right moment, wanting to say it while he serves pancakes in the morning that he douses in syrup because he hates them dry. To say it when he pulls me close at night, taking a deep breath as he smells my hair. When he falls asleep on the couch or with his head on my lap. And maybe he's wanted to say it too, the way his eyes linger on me when I spin around the room with his sister, or when I fix her hair before walking her out the door, or when I slip out said door to return to my own home only to find myself back here the next day anyways, unable to stay away.

But this is the wrong moment. A moment of fear and terror and I have been selfish enough to dare utter such words that he may not even reciprocate while he's in such a vulnerable state. Shit.

"What did you say?" Mike asks, pulling away to look into my face, suddenly awake and clear of any fog that had been torturing him.

I can't speak. I can't tell him. What if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he says it back in a desperation for approval after such pressure has been placed upon him to respond. Or what if he convinces himself he feels the same way only because I do?

"I- Shouldn't-" My head is shaking, eyes wide in worry as I try to think of a response.

"Shouldn't?" He says in the most heartbreaking voice.

"No!" This is all wrong! It all sounds wrong.

"Oh," he says quietly, eyes casted downwards.

"No, wait a minute. This is wrong-" I stutter, my hands shaking slightly.

"I heard you the first time," He says flatly, eyes avoiding mine.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I didn't mean to say anything."

"Then stop saying things," He says sharply, pulling away and turning to face the room.

"I'm not- I can't-" One of the ways Mike and I understand each other is by the way vulnerability makes us choke, gagging on sincere words for fear of rejection and becoming fools. And this time is one of them, even if I'm fighting against it. The silence is too long as I choke on my own tongue.

"It's fine," he says. He stands from the bed, not looking back at me. "I'm gonna take a shower."

I open my mouth to speak, my mind urging me to extend my hand in explanation. But he walks quickly, opening and shutting the door before I can even begin to put the words together in my mind. And I'm alone. With no one but my book to offer comfort.

I try to read. Try to focus on Cathy's piss poor plan that ends with her toes broken because of her terrible husband that she married to avoid her adoptive father. (Don't ask.) But all I can think about is what I should have said. And what Mike must be thinking. Of course he misunderstood me, his mind still racing from adrenaline and nightmares of losing his sister, addled by his sleep medication that would still be in effect. Vulnerable situations are already tricky with Mike, who'd lost his family young and had been forced to create his own stability with no comfort or care returned to him until the past few years when he finally began to create a new inner circle. It was understandable that he was gun shy around this sort of topic. And his already darkened mind earlier today? What a horrible day for a moment like this.

It feels like an eternity, but it must have only been about half an hour when Mike comes racing back into the room. Wet, towel crudely wrapped around his waist and holding up his hand as he rushed towards the bed.

"There's blood on here," he said. "Who's is it?"

I squint as I try to look, reaching out for his hand. He offers it quickly, and at the sight I remember. My thigh. Earlier when he'd gripped it so hard, nails digging in. I can see the blood underneath his nails, dark and most likely having just been noticed by him.

"Earlier when you were upset you grabbed my thigh," I say. Within seconds he's on the bed, ripping the sheet off of me and dripping water all over the place. It's not exactly a pretty sight, cuts from where his nails had dragged and sunk into me. His eyes go wide, cheeks turning pink with shame.

"Jesus," he says. "I didn't mean to."

"I know, you were scared," I say. "Don't worry about it."

"Let me clean this," he says, moving to stand from the bed.

"Mike, we need to talk," I say, grabbing his wrist. He doesn't stop, trying to pull his arm free.

"After I clean this."

"No, now," I say. My voice sounds so much sharper than it should in a situation like this, like a command rather than a request. But he finally stops his rush, his eyes meeting mine as he stands still, gripping the towel around his waist as he contemplates.

"I left the water running," he finally says.

"Clean me in there," I offer thoughtlessly. He raises an eyebrow at me but doesn't question it, tugging me up by my hand and not letting go as we walk to the bathroom in silence.

The water stings on my cuts as Mike kneels in front of me, his body between my slightly parted legs as his hands wash me carefully, lathering soap and working at my thigh with careful concentration. 'It's been ten minutes. Say something, dumbass,' I think to myself.

"I love you," Mike blurts out suddenly. His hands don't rubbing soap onto my thigh, and his eyes don't meet mine. "And you don't have to feel the same way, but you should know that I do."

There's another long moment of silence, dread filling my chest.

"Why are you saying this?" I finally ask. He looks up at me with an unintentional glare.

"What?" He asks sharply.

"Are you saying this for me or for you?" I ask. His brows furrow.

"I don't know what you mean," he says.

"Earlier I said I love you and that was a mistake-"

"You don't need to remind me."

"No, my timing was a mistake. You were vulnerable," I say quickly, sliding quickly down the shower wall to join him on the floor of the bathtub. "Are you saying this because I said it or because you mean it?"

Realization seems to finally sink through, Mike blinking at me slowly.

"So, you love me?"

"I'm sorry that I was an idiot earlier-"

"But you love me?"

"I've been trying to say it for months, but I couldn't-"

Mike's kiss is hard and clumsy, teeth clicking together and making us both draw away in a fit of stupid, teenage like giggles from the way he'd tried to be romantic and jump on me, my face now covered in the orange scented soap from his hands.

"You need to lead with that next time," he says, laughing and covering my face in quick kisses without care that he's smearing the soap onto his face too. "You had me scripting our conversations for the next month in here."

"I was trying. You know I can't- that-" I can hardly respond between his kisses, tasting awful but so sweet I can't help but want more.

"I love you," he says. Then he says it again, and again. Like a dam has been broken and he can't stop the river spilling forth. "I love you."

"I love you too," I finally say, relieved and melting into his touch under the warm stream that he drags me under, holding me close to his body.

Later, as we lay in bed, I finally tell him the real plot of my book, to which he says "I take it back, get out," before dragging me under the covers to repeat his devotion again and again until we can't say it anymore. Coherently, that is.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I'm gonna be fr, I haven't been happy with my writing lately and that's mostly due to my packed schedule. This is a draft I've been working on in bits and pieces for the last couple weeks when I've had a spare moment at work, and honestly will probably regurgitate at some point in the future when I have the time and energy to get more detailed with this concept in a more detailed fic. But for right now, I did want to put this out as a drabble. So, I hope you enjoyed it, and I promise I'll try to get some more properly fleshed out content out soon for y'all <3

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[cookiepie111]

The bakery

König x black reader

König and his bakery own girlfriend, how I haven't done a bakery au yet is crazy. These are just a bunch of headcannons. Two slight suggestive things at the bottom but nothing crazy still under the post just to be safe. Not proofread.

~

He has the bad habit of scaring you when you're closing shop. You lock the doors and head to the kitchen to get started with the clean-up when you hear rattling and footsteps. It must be in your head... that doesn't stop you from arming yourself with the heavy rolling pin.

"Hello!"

"Agh!" Your swing is stopped."You have to aim for the head schatz, " tapping the end of the rolling pin at his head with a Droopy smile. You're glad he isn't wearing his balaclava it would have really given you a heart attack

"König! Just call me next time. I'll let you"

" and ruin the surprise! You should just leave the door open"

"No! The surprise in question being scaring me?"

"Flowers!"

You sigh. "Just wait, I'm almost done"

~

Birthday are something he can look forward to now. You make him a cake Esterházy torte every year the same thing since he likes it so much. When his birthday falls on a work day, you pack up a slice for him to take in.

~

He likes the smell you carry. each week it's something new flour, fresh bread or chocolate. It's not always so romantic. Sometimes, you come home smelling like yeast and butter.

~

Pulling you away from the kitchen when you're stressing has become a semi common occurrence.

~

In the early days of your bakery, you had to do everything alone, hauling tables and chairs, now you have könig! He has no problem building them, rearranging the furniture, helping you carry heavy ingredients to the back of the kitchen

~

The two of you have similar morning routines. A 5 am start! It's a habit for könig, so he'll go on his morning run, and freshly baked bread is waiting for him when he gets home

~

Your fridge becomes a strange mix of almost only meats and butter. One day, you both look at the fridge and agree you need a second one after realising you have no other ingredients.

~

Will pull you back to bed somedays where he's feeling extra clinging or feels you've been working too hard, so you don't open shop. You have to deal with some pretty annoyed customers the next day

~

He doesn't bake but does take up cooking more.

~

You tried making him some healthier bakes for when he's cutting. He spat it out so fast, thought you were playing a prank on him

" Never do this again." he'll take enjoy the full fat bakes please.

~

Has tried to fuck you in the kitchen. Getting all handys and kissing along your neck, you quickly realise where this is going and have to shut it down, prying him off of you"König no!"

Wants to do food play with you, but you're strongly against it! You never thought you'd see the day könig would pout, but here he is, body weight pressed tight around you, clinging to your waist, "please Schatz"

"No, I'm not letting you lick cream off me. It's weird"

" I'd let you lick cream off my nip-"

"Oh my, out!"

[crownmemes]

Domestic Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences for domestic and day-to-day moments between couples. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I'm so glad you're home early!"

"Do you have any idea how much I missed watching you get dressed in the morning?"

"I didn't know you could cook!"

"Are you working while we're in bed together?"

"Do you have the day off tomorrow?"

"Have you any idea how much I've missed you?"

"My pyjamas suit you!"

"Why did you marry me?"

"Why don't you come home anymore?"

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"I guess I love you too."

"I don't know what you're up to, but whatever it is, you have my loving support."

"Is that a grey hair?"

"We forgive each other, then?"

"I adore you with that slightly dishevelled look."

"I love you, even though I sometimes wonder why."

"Don't worry, I'll hold your hand!"

"I have felt alone all my life, except with you."

"Aren't you forgetting a little something?"

"Do you know what I'd like? Really like?"

"Will you hold me? Just for a moment."

"Do you have to work tonight? I don't."

"You look handsome today!"

"Why don't you have a glass of champagne?"

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"I have no secrets from you. You know that."

"Maybe you can take me home when this is over? Just like old times?"

"Something tells me you're not a flowers kind of guy."

"You're such a romantic!"

"So, how come you're being so sweet this morning?"

"You used to be a very good dancer."

"Can we just enjoy each other's company for a little while?"

"Don't worry, I'm still utterly devoted to you."

"You do whatever you need to do and I'll understand."

"Don't you like this suit?"

"You're the most wonderful man in the whole wonderful world!"

"Smile for the camera!"

"Why the hell were you naked in the kitchen?"

"I don't care about some tedious work thing - I just want to spend Friday night with you!"

[seramilla]

In the vaggie Carmilla related au, we already saw Carmilla looking to Vaggie for some sort of comfort, but when was the first time it was Vaggie who looked to Carmilla for comfort? I can't think of a specific situation (Just a generally stressful situation for Vaggie where the first and/or only person she thinks of and wants to seek comfort from is Carmilla), but I just want to see her have her first "I need my mom" moment.

Vaggie doesn't even hesitate to come over the next day when Carmilla asks if she wants to have dinner with herself and the girls. Telling Charlie she's going over for a visit, she kisses the princess goodbye, and books it to Carmilla's in less than 5 minutes. She's become more brave about flying over Pentagram City ever since the wedding was announced...no one would dare shoot Lucifer's daughter's fiancé out of the sky. Not if they wanted to keep their spine.

Carmilla meets her at the door, looking much more cheerful and domestic than Vaggie thinks she's ever seen her. When Carmilla goes in to hug her daughter, Vaggie raises her eyebrow and pushes Carmilla away. The matriarch is wearing a white chef's apron with what looks like blood splatters all over it. When Carmilla notices her staring at it, she laughs heartily. She rubs her large claw over the front of it, and it comes away clean. No blood.

"It's just the pattern," Carmilla says, grinning. "It's a Mother's Day present. Clara thought it was funny. I guess I kind of do, too."

Vaggie sighs and smiles back at her. What a relief! She moves in for a much-needed hug, and Carmilla squeezes her tight, running her hand down the back of Vaggie's head tenderly. She lets her large claws trail through the girl's long hair. Vaggie perhaps keeps her arms wrapped around her mother a little longer than necessary...but Carmilla doesn't protest or try to pull away. Coughing and blushing a little, Vaggie lets go and rubs her arm sheepishly.

"Sorry!" Vaggie apologizes. "Sorry. I just missed you."

"It's okay. Come on in. The girls are setting the table."

The evening's spread is hot tamales, soup, and some vegetables for a side salad. Clara mentions that their mother also got up early that morning to fix some home-made ice cream before work. Vaggie looks over at Carmilla in surprise.

"Mama!" Vaggie says. "I didn't know you could cook!"

Carmilla waves her claw in front of her face in a dismissive gesture. "Oh please. It's nothing special. I let the servants take the day off, so I thought I'd make dinner myself. I also made eggs this morning...it wasn't my best work. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you girls. We don't do that enough."

Vaggie beams inwardly. Before really getting to know Carmilla, she never knew the overlord could be so thoughtful. She digs into her meal wholeheartedly. It's not exactly restaurant quality, or like the stuff Alastor makes for her and the other hotel patrons, but it's good nonetheless. Homely. Authentic. Made exclusively from the heart.

Odette and Clara offer to clean up after dinner. Vaggie thinks that her sisters are trying to give her some alone time with Carmilla. Maybe they can sense the tension she's holding inside. She'd been leaning forward in her chair throughout dinner, with horrible posture, unconsciously trying to make herself appear even smaller than she normally is. Her body language is probably a dead giveaway.

She can't hide from Charlie. She can't hide from Odette, Clara, or Carmilla, either. Maybe that's why Carmilla directs her into the fancy sitting room just off the kitchen. The one with all the comfortable lounge chairs and a sofa, with large, comfy pillows that are so soft, Vaggie practically sinks into them when she sits. Carmilla shuts the large French doors, to close them off from the rest of the house. Vaggie lies down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, and stares at a sparkling chandelier that dangles delicately above her head.

Carmilla lowers the lights in the room. Now the chandelier looks almost ethereal in the way it reflects the light from the dim bulbs. Vaggie can almost pretend like those sparkles reflected onto the ceiling are stars in a night sky. There is something that feels very cosmic and safe about her surroundings. Combined with the scent of Carmilla's potpourri that's scattered around the room, it just smells like her mother. Like how she feels a real home would smell on Earth after returning from a long and stressful day at school or work.

Carmila sits down next to her on the large sofa, putting Vaggie's feet in her lap to make room for herself. Vaggie almost gets up, but Carmilla shoots her a glance that says Don't you dare!

Carmilla leans back casually, with an arm stretched out along the back of the couch, using the furniture as leverage to arch her spine until Vaggie hears a pop! Then Carmilla groans in what can only be described as relief. She grins sheepishly down at her daughter, while Vaggie looks back at her coyly.

"Wow. Impressive," Vaggie chuckles.

"Pardon me. I know I'm dead, but these bones aren't what they used to be."

Vaggie laughs. "It's okay. Anyway...I hope I'm not imposing too much on you by coming over so late."

"Not at all," Carmilla assures her. "You know I love having you over. You said you had something to talk about? What's on your mind?"

Vaggie goes quiet for a moment. She does switch her position on the couch just then, trading her feet in Carmilla's lap for her head instead. She cuddles up into Carmilla, head laying over her thighs, while the matriarch begins running her long claws through Vaggie's hair again.

Vaggie had discovered early on in their new relationship that she loves having Carmilla comfort her in this way. She removes the bow from her hair, the one that Charlie gave her, to allow Carmilla better access. Carmilla cups her whole claw around the back of Vaggie's head, just holding it there, seeing how small the girl's head is in her large hand. Everything about the fallen angel is small. Except her innate kindness, and her indomitable spirit. Those are without measure.

"It's the wedding," Vaggie says, after letting the silence linger a little too long for her comfort. Carmilla resumes petting her hair. "I keep having nightmares about it. Charlie is so excited. And I am, too. But every time I think about it...the closer we get...I'm scared."

"Pre-wedding jitters are normal," Carmilla says matter-of-factly. "When I thought I was going to marry your father, I felt the same thing."

"Well, we know how that turned out," Vaggie teases, looking up at her. Carmilla pokes her side, tickling her, making Vaggie squeal and jump, almost hopping off the couch. "Wait, haha, no! Stop!"

"Don't test me, little girl," Carmilla teases back.

"I would never, Mama."

"Now," Carmilla says, trying to get back on track. "Talk to me. What's really going on?"

Leave it to Carmilla to detect that Vaggie's problem is more than superficial. Her problems are deeply buried, but Carmilla has a way of coaxing them out of her.

"I don't know," Vaggie responds, burying her head back in Carmilla's lap. "I was fine a few weeks ago. But the closer the day gets...the more the reality sets in that this is actually happening...I just worry Charlie is making the wrong decision. To be with me."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm just...me. And she's the princess of Hell. She's going to be queen someday. Maybe not for a long time, but still, that scares the fuck out of me. Eternity is a long time to be with someone. What if she gets...bored, or falls out of love with me? Like Lilith and her dad? I don't want that to be us, Mama."

Vaggie sits up. As she'd spoken the words, an overwhelming sense of anxiety had washed over her. Like as soon as her thoughts were out of her brain and let loose into the world, they'd become a living, tangible thing, threatening to gobble her up and swallow her whole.

She leans into Carmilla's side, pushing herself as close as she possibly can to the other woman. She tries her best not to cry. It's very difficult to hold back in Carmilla's presence. There is something so safe, and warm, and secure about the strength in Carmilla's arms as they wrap around her. Something that, despite how much she loves her fiancé, she just can't experience with Charlie.

Is this what a mother's love feels like? The type of steadfastness that can only come from the person who once supported and protected her as she grew in her own body? Who cherished and mourned her potential existence, even when she thought she'd lost Vaggie forever?

Vaggie never had a childhood. Doesn't know what that feeling is like, and doesn't know if she ever will. But she thinks she gets it now, at least. Why children can form such bonds with their caretakers. When that emotional attachment is so strong, nothing else can ever compare or replace it. Vaggie can't believe she had to die to experience some modicum of it, but she's counting her lucky stars now.

"I'm such a terrible partner," Vaggie says, wrapping her arms around Carmilla's waist, and letting the woman return the gesture. "I don't deserve her. I never did. I don't know why I thought this would work."

"Oh, mija, mija," Carmilla repeats, patting her back gently as Vaggie cries into her neck. "It's all right. I know this is a big change for you. Life-altering. But everything will be all right. I've seen the way Charlie looks at you. And when she asked me for my blessing, you should have seen her face. She has nothing but love in her heart. I doubt myself about many things, but please don't doubt me about this. Nothing will ever change the way she feels about you. I promise."

Vaggie hiccups a little, turning her head so she can feel Carmilla's warmth against her cheek. Carmilla wipes the tears falling from her eye. Her claws come away wet and salty, but Carmilla doesn't care.

"How can you possibly know that?" Vaggie asks.

"I'm your mother. I know everything."

Vaggie can't help but laugh a little at that.

Somehow, in some way, even though she's not totally convinced she's not an eternal, cosmically ordained fuck-up of a person, she's relieved that Carmilla, at least, doesn't buy into her bullshit. That she is convinced she and Charlie will work in the long-term is a comfort.

It will probably take Vaggie a long time...if not forever...to get over her own issues about herself. But Charlie...goddammit, Charlie...she loves that woman. More than she can characterize with feelings and more than words in a dictionary could describe. Her love for the daughter of the devil is everlasting. Unexplainable. Beyond the material.

If Carmilla belives it...hopefully she can. Someday. Preferably on the day that she says "I do." But if it doesn't come later, she will live vicarously through Charlie and Carmilla's combined faith in her. Their strength will see her through.

"I love you, Mama," Vaggie says, hugging Carmilla tighter.

"I love you, too, my baby," Carmilla responds, giving her daughter a lingering peck on the forehead.

Vaggie decides to spend the night again. She wants to talk to Carmilla more. About the wedding, and about other things. When she returns to Charlie the following day, she feels lighter, and more confident, than she's felt in a while.

She doesn't dream that night. No nightmares, or intrusive thoughts at all. Just a wonderful sense of wholeness, and a renewed vigor the following day, that she desperately needed. There's only a few days left until the ceremony. They have a lot of work to do, and seemingly not enough time to do it.

[billthedrake]

Note: This is a hypnosis story co-written with @josmith1718

THE PROTOCOL (CHAPTER TWO)

The next day, Dad and I had a lazy Saturday. I usually woke up early, but I slept like a log especially after dad's insatiable appetite after being under. I woke up and saw I was in bed alone. I stretched and made my way downstairs. I was wearing only boxer briefs when I came to the kitchen and saw dad making a whole breakfast spread, "Morning, bud. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Morning dad, what time did you wake up?"

"I've been up for a while. Woke up so refreshed." He smiled and gave me a kiss before asking me again, "Drink?"

"Uh, I'll have some orange juice."

"Okay bud, sit down, I'll get it for you."

Dad was very happy this morning. He was wearing an old baseball tee and shorts that were being eaten by his ass. I was spent from last night but seeing the sex god in this kitchen making me breakfast was giving me a second wind.

"Here you go son. What do you say we have a nice cookout today? Weather should be good; we can put some steaks on the grill and have some beers."

"Sure dad, but you are in the sun all day, I thought you would want to spend some time in the A/C."

"Well, we could do something else if you want." He smirked as he saw my hardon.

I reached down and tugged at my loose shorts, playfully showing off my endowment to Dad, but also pinching the base a little bit to tame the beast.

"It'll probably be better if I wait." I said.

"Waiting isn't your strong suit, buddy," Dad smirked.

"Nah it isn't," I admitted. I was about to ask whose fault that was but I reflected at how great my father was. I was the luckiest guy in the world. "So... cookout?" I asked. I knew if we stayed in that kitchen, I'd be initiating sex. And last Saturday we didn't leave the house till after noon...

Dad went to get dressed to run his errands to the grocery store. I offered to hit the hardware store for charcoal and some other stuff we needed. Surprisingly, bagged ice is cheaper there, too, so Dad asked me to get a bag or two so we could set up the cooler for the beer.

I was in and out of the big box store pretty quick. I don't know if it was the hypnosis, but I was in a weird mood that morning. Almost giddy with excitement of seeing if Dad was gonna put out for me later, really put out. Maybe I had some misgivings, too. I mean, Dad had brought up the hypnosis route and found the Company, but maybe I was too excited by the idea of reprogramming my loving father.

As I tossed the stuff in the back seat and as I started the car, I wondered about maybe my approach with fucking Dad was wrong. Maybe it wasn't just mental. Hypnosis was one thing, but he would need to get used to having something in his hole.

I took a little detour home, to where one of the adult sex stores was. Hopefully the ice wouldn't melt too much. I'd only been to this store a couple of times, the first time when I turned 18 and a buddy dared me to go as some sort of stupid high school ritual. The other was soon after that, when I heard a rumor you could get a no-strings blowjob in one of the booths. I went in, but chickened out.

Now, I went in and made a beeline for the vibrators and butt plugs. I was not a small fry and Dad would need some practice, even if he was under when I used the toys on him.

I found a beginner sized dildo and picked up an enema bag. I looked for a smaller sized butt plug. Even the smallest looked like it might be a challenge for a newbie at bottoming, but I picked it up too. With a naughty thought I eyed one of the bigger plugs. It would take a hell of a lot of hypnosis to get my tight virgin father to fit that inside him. But the idea turned me on like mad so I bought it too.

I made my purchases and headed back home. Dad was already putting away the groceries in the kitchen, as I went upstairs with my toys and hid them until I needed them.

I'd barely stashed them in the back of my sweaters in the closet when Dad walked into our bedroom. "I'm gonna hit the gym, Kyle," he said, peeling off that baseball shirt. God, here comes my hardon again. But Dad seemed oblivious to that as he went to root through his drawer for his workout gear. "I'll fire up the grill when I get back, OK?"

"Yeah, Dad," I said.

He grabbed his stuff and then paused to look at me. Maybe he wasn't so oblivious to my excitement after all. With a grin he sauntered over and stepped up to me, leaning forward to kiss me gently. It was hot, a lot of soft tongue as Dad and I made out in our bedroom.

His free hand was on my flank, feeling up my muscle beneath my T-shirt. "Nice, son," he grinned. "I can tell you've been hitting the gym too, buddy," he smirked. I worked out during my lunch hour at a corporate gym near my office. I usually enjoyed taking Saturday off.

"Gotta keep up with my old man," I smirked back. I reached down to undo my shorts, but Dad stopped me.

"Save it, buddy... it'll be worth your while, I promise." With that, dad pulled my shorts up and gave me a parting kiss, “Try to keep your hand away from that dick.” He said as he left the room. I did not know it was possible but I was even harder at that comment.

***

The food smelled great as dad sat next to me to let the meat cook on the grill. He had continued to wear the same workout clothes except for the sweaty shirt. He was showing off a good pump, I'd say, his perky nipples saluted me and his calves looked exceptionally delectable. If I was not so hungry, I probably would have tackled him as soon as he walked through the door.

"So how do you feel about the hypnosis, son?" Dad asked as he took a sip of his beer and sat next to me.

"I was hesitant at first but if it makes you happy, Dad, I'm game but, how about you? Did you feel different when you were under?" I asked. I kept putting the old man under and never even thought of asking if it was enjoyable.

"Not just me, son. Remember what you told me, if we're both not into it, we don't have to do it." He held his gaze on mine, "But I will be honest, if it'll help us... me... I want it."

I nodded and smiled at him. He reached and patted my thigh before answering the second half of my question.

"And to answer your question, I didn't feel anything. It felt like I fell asleep and when I ‘woke up' I felt refreshed. I hope it can help me to be able to give you what you want but if not, it's helping me to feel relaxed at least."

"Did you remember what you did when the man from the Company put you under?"

"No. We were talking and then he was telling me we were done. Whatever I did, I don't think it was embarrassing but I did feel good afterwards."

We ate, we tanned, and we had some more beers. It was a nice relaxed way to spend the weekend. Dad worked hard and in my own white collar way, I worked hard too. It was nice to lie in the backyard and think about nothing.

I had my eyes closed and tried to keep everything out of my mind. I just heard the sizzling of the grill, dad whistling, the light chirping of the birds. Suddenly, I began to think about the hypnosis and started throwing wood. It was a hot idea, having my dad do anything I wanted, bend over, and let me rim him or ask me to fuck him as matter-of-factly as he did when providing me with his oral services. I was maybe hoping it was a one session kind of deal and then Dad would be lifting his legs for me. Yet, he'd put off sex, even more than normal. I wondered if he needed more reinforcement or if I needed to expedite the process.

The more I thought about it, the more I decided I'd put him under again and take dad back to the white hallway. As soon as we went inside, I was determined I'd be putting him under again. I wanted to get in his ass but didn't want to do it prematurely. As I went through the motions of helping him clean and put away things, I was formulating a script in my mind of what I was going to say and do. I had to think of the Protocol the Company provided, and how reinforcement could help tap into Dad's inner psyche.

"That was great." Dad said as we were putting away the last of the leftovers in containers. I admired his hairy frame now that he had gotten a tan on his chest and back. A shame he didn't go shirtless at work, I'm sure he'd get more contracts showing his body off and he'd had an overall tan.

"You are the grill master, dad."

"You flatter me buddy." Dad rubbed my shoulder, as he stepped by me. I watched him walk down the hall, and even as he was out of my sight, the sound of the door closing suggested to me he was taking a piss.

It seemed the perfect chance to catch him unaware. That approach seemed to work the first time and if he was easily put under then, it should be no issue now. I put the food away as quickly as I could and then I walked down the hall to wait outside the bathroom for him to come out. I heard the flushing of the toilet followed by the start of dad washing his hands and whistling as he cleaned up.

"Hey buddy... you gotta go...?" Dad began as he opened the door but at the sound of me saying “power down” he stopped mid-sentence. He went from animated to emotionless in one swoop. His face was drained of emotion, his arms fell to his sides, and he looked past me, as though there was a point behind me, he needed to concentrate on.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Relaxed..." Was dad's monotone response.

"Remember what I told you about Kyle?"

Dad nodded and said "Yes..."

"Repeat to me what you learned about Kyle and what you need to do."

"Kyle does the fucking, to show him I love him, I have to let go and give him what he wants..." He responded. Once again, I smiled, "What does he want?"

"To fuck me." Dad responded, determined. As he finished his thought, I saw how he began to breathe a bit faster, and his cock began to swell up. The shorts he was wearing were flimsy and nothing hid what was happening down there.

"That's right. When this finally happens, you will give him happiness and he, in turn, will bring you pleasure. Your son will be happy, and you want to make your son happy right?"

"That's all I want, my boy to be happy." He was more determined with his response.

"Extend your hands and hold on to me, we are going back to the door in the white hallway." He extended his hands and I reached with mine. I held on, feeling the dampness on his skin.

"Walk with me as I count to five. Once I reach five, we'll be at the door."

"One... we're walking down the corridor," I slowly walked us to the bedroom where I had stashed the toys I would be needing, "Two... you are feeling relaxed and calm knowing your son will never cause you pain or hurt you," I passed a couple of framed pictures of us at a camping trip and from both of my graduations, "Three... you are closer to the door, remembering what you saw there, getting you excited..." At the threshold of the bedroom, I said, "Four... the door is at arm's reach, you want to open the door, right?"

"Yes, I want to open the door." Dad responded a bit breathlessly.

"Good... five, reach for the doorknob and open the door. What do you see?" I let go of his hand momentarily and saw him reach to the imaginary door to open it.

"I'm in bed with my boy... He is on top of me, getting ready to fuck me... My son looks happy..." Dad began to smile warmly as he saw the scene.

"He is very happy, but you can't bottom for him yet, why?" I caressed his hand.

"Men don't get fucked." Again, determined. I knew we would need to work on this now if we were going to get anywhere.

"Look at yourself, Brian. You are a man. Look at your muscles, your hairy torso, strong legs, are you not a man?"

"Yes, I'm a man."

"Keep looking at the scene in front of you, is your son inside you, fucking you, making you feel good?"

"God... yes, he is fucking me, making me feel pleasure." He tightened his grip on my hand and his breathing increased. He wanted to be able to give his boy this, the pleasure that he would experience was secondary at this point. All he wanted was to be a good daddy and take care of his boy's needs. He wanted what he saw.

"And as he is doing this... are you changing at all?" I asked, looking at dad's face to see if there was any resistance to what I was inferring.

Dad looked confused at this. I continued to caress his hand and pushed on, "Did you become less of a man?"

Again, confusion, his brow creased as he thought of it. I answered for him, "No you didn't. Look, Kyle is still fucking you, bringing you pleasure. He is fucking a man, not a woman. Say it, Kyle fucks men."

"Kyle fucks men..."

"Again, with conviction."

"Kyle fucks men." I moved his hand to my cock, and I moved my free hand to his, "Hold Kyle's cock and ask him who he fucks."

Dad looked at me as though trying to look through a fog and asked, "Who do you fuck?", his hand lightly gripping my cock like he did when he was ready to give me a handjob. I fished out his cock and began to match his grip and stroking motions as I answered.

"I fuck men, dad, not women, just men. Hairy, muscular, masculine men. Men that work construction, that have a tan from being in the sun working hard, muscles from moving heavy things all day." I said this as I stroked him.

"God, son..." he whispered to himself.

"Brian, who is getting fucked on the bed?" I asked, getting a thrill calling him by his name.

"I am..."

"Are you a man?"

"Yes..."

"So, say it, I'm a man that gets fucked."

Dad's voice was direct and unwavering. A pure expression of his unconscious. "Men don't get fucked."

Jesus Christ. Back to square one.

I let go of his dick and thought for a second. What would the Protocol suggest? I don't even remember where the idea came from, but I remembered something about triangulation. Shifting the focus. "Brian.... Listen carefully to my voice.”

Dad looked at me with unwavering concentration.

"You are past the white door now... where only my voice matters."

"Your voice."

I felt his grip on my cock get tighter, now playing with it, then stroking it. Fuck, this felt good.

"When you are awake, Brian, and you worry about not being a man, you can listen to my voice and it'll relax you, helping you let go for your son."

I spread my legs and let Dad openly stroke me. The more I talked the more eagerly he tugged at my dick. "You know what that voice will be telling you?"

He shook his head no. Like an eager student studying for a test. Aww God, his hand felt amazing. This man, even under, only had one mission and it was to bring me pleasure. I had to bite my lip and take a deep breath before I continued because I didn't want to shoot yet, I needed to see this through.

"That voice will be telling you that anytime you don't feel like a man, to think instead about Kyle. Your son—" God, Dad's hand was driving me crazy. I wasn't normally a hand job guy, but this head fuck was messing with mine in its own way. "—and how manly he is." I finished my train of thought in a raspy voice.

"Yes, Kyle is a man." Dad responded determined, proud even. The same way he would when bragging to his buddies about me for something.

"Good," I said. "And because Kyle is a man, you do not have to worry about yourself. Just listen to that voice...Dad." My breath was getting shorter. I reached out and began stroking Dad's cock as he did mine.

"What does that voice say, Dad?" I stopped calling him by his name and reverted back to ‘Dad.' I wanted him badly and calling him Brian, while naughty at first, was not as personable as ‘Dad.' The man raised me, taught me so much. Now it was my turn to return the favor, as it were, and teach him new things. Things that would bring him pleasure.

"That voice is saying Kyle is a man." He was sweating a bit, his nipples were perky and his cock throbbed in my hand.

"What do men do?"

"Men fuck.”

"What is going to help you be able to be your son's bottom daddy?” I was stroking dad hard, and he was too, we were both lost in the moment. I don't even know when it was the last time, I called dad ‘daddy' but I had just said it and if I was not in the edge of shooting, I was when dad responded.

"Listen to the voice... allow Kyle to make me his bottom daddy." The combination of seeing dad zonked out, his words and his hand on my cock, I shot my load, some of it landing on his hand and floor. Dad, in turn, shot all over my hand. Like father like son, both shooting our loads at the idea that I needed to fuck him, and he was going to allow me to.

We were both breathing hard and as we both caught our breath, I looked at dad and with some clarity instructed him to close the door. Dad used his free hand and simulated closing the imaginary door. I continued, "You are a man that gets fucked, keep that in mind. You still can't bottom for Kyle, but you want to, desperately. You want to get pleasure, you want to make Kyle happy, but you need to prepare for it. You will ask Kyle to help you. It'll be scary but put your trust in your son, he loves you, he is here for you, he is going to make sure everything you do for him, is returned with pleasure tenfold."

"I trust my son." No hesitation at all. That made me really happy that dad have trust in me.

"And he trusts you. He loves you very much." I kissed his cheek and felt the stubble, it was the weekend he hadn't shaved since Friday.

Dad smiled and continued to stroke my spent cock, bringing it back to life, "Once you come out of this state of relaxation, at some point tonight you will ask your son to help you. You will ask him what you need to do, what can you do to get ready. You will only feel pleasure once it happens. This pleasure will make you feel comfortable getting played with and fucked by your son, Kyle. Understood?"

"Yes... I want that... I want Kyle to play with me..."

"He wants to play with you too. Now, you are going to wake up when I count to three. When you wake, you will not realize you were under but will retain all instructions and suggestions. You will also not find it weird that we are here covered in cum. You will find it hot and want to shower off the remnants of it before we head downstairs, and watch T.V. Understood?"

"I understand."

"Good, let's wake up. One... Two... Three..."

Life came back to dad's eyes, and he smiled when he saw the mess we had made, "Shame I didn't get that load in my mouth but can't cry over spilled milk, right buddy?"

I smiled and he closed the gap and gave me a kiss, "Let's hit the showers, son." I nodded and followed him as he dragged me to the bathroom without letting go of my cock.

We showered, made out under the running water, and then saw a bit of T.V. before we called it a night. As we were getting ready for bed, dad looked at me intently, "I love you so much, buddy."

"I love you too dad." I smiled and threw a pillow at him. He caught it and then stroked it a bit, almost as if he was arming himself with courage.

"I really want to give you everything I can, son. I'm a man and I shouldn't be scared to ask for help so here it is.” He took a deep breath, “Help me."

"Dad, anything you need, you know I'm here for you." I responded. I sat on the edge of the bed and dad came to my side and sat next to me.

"I want to be your bottom and I need to know how to do that. I don't know if hypnosis will help but in case it does, I need to prepare myself... but I don't know what I should even do first." He sounded determined but innocent all at once. I bit my lip as he said that, damn, I was once again throwing wood.

I moved a bit, trying to hide what was growing between my legs and at first, I was not sure if dad noticed but he definitely did when he got up and used my name, "Come on Kyle, I need your help. Tell me what I need to do to prep for when I finally give it up." He sounded annoyed that I would choose his vulnerable moment to be a horndog.

"Sorry dad...” I grabbed a pillow and put it over my crotch, “You need to clean yourself out and then practice. It's not much to it. Here..." I got up, covering my crotch making dad more annoyed.

“Take the pillow off, I already know you're horny,” he growled softly.

I blushed and nodded and went to get the toys. I pretended to take a while to look for them as though they were there for a long time and brought out the enema bag, "Here you go dad, this is an enema bag, you use this to clean yourself out."

"So...I fill this with water and then..." He mimed it not wanting to say it, blushing as I nodded my head.

"I can help you if that would—"

"I'll do it alone buddy. We may shower together but I draw the line with you watching me shit out poop water."

"Alright, I'll be here dad. Take your time, it's not a race."

"How long do I do it for?" He asked as he walked towards the bathroom.

"Until the water you push out is clear."

Dad was gone for a while. My cock deflated as soon as he left. Dad's mere presence had that effect on me. He could be standing perfectly still and I'd want to jump his bones. As he cleaned himself, I ended up working on emails and getting them scheduled to be sent out Monday morning. I even folded some laundry as he stayed in the bathroom. I didn't hear much other than the occasional flushing. After a little over half an hour, I heard the toilet flush again and dad come back to the room as I was putting away some clothes.

"If we were to do the deed, I'd have to do that every time?" He was red and sweating. God only knows what he did in that bathroom, but I didn't think it would take that long.

"We can get a bidet and a proper douche, you know, to be cleaner down there." I smiled at dad.

"Fuck, buddy... I have never been in the bathroom this long ever but honestly, I never felt so clean." I couldn't deny my need to be with dad. I grabbed the folded clothes still on the bed and put them on the chair in the corner of the room and ran towards dad. He held me and we began to make out. He held me tight, his shirtless frame on my clothed one. He pulled the shirt off and I began to play with his hairy chest.

As the kisses became more needy, my hands began traveling slowly down towards his ass, something he would not let me do before. The man had his hangups and one of those things was not getting near his hole. I kissed, sucked, touched, caressed and loved every part of my dad's body but his ass... that was something I wanted to explore at length but never could.

"Son..." He began as my hand caressed his ass.

"Dad please, I won't go in, I just want to touch it." I said, going back to kissing him deeply. Dad moaned into my mouth and let me explore. Fuck, that furry ass was making me bone something bad. Dad slowly lowered my shorts and began to play with my cock, "Fat executive cock..." he hissed.

We were both enthralled by what we loved on each other's bodies. I scooted up in bed and let Dad suck my dick some. I had to urge him to go slow at times and finally pulled him off. I didn't want to cum in his mouth, though I could read Dad's desire to get off that way. He loved having my dick in his mouth and loved swallowing my cum.

I got back down so we were face to face, naked in bed together. But as I got on top of him, almost a classic missionary position, I felt Dad's body jerk and shiver beneath mine. Like he got a cold spell.

"You OK, Dad?" I asked.

He nodded, gulping. "Yeah, son... it's just... fuck!"

He got another shiver. I realized it was the hypnotic suggestion, giving him that excitement when I was on top of him. I humped his cock and we made out. Dad was moaning into my mouth and clutching at my back and then my arms. Pulling me in, wanting nothing more than my weight on top of his.

"You're such a fucking stud, son," he whispered as we finally broke that kiss and looked into each other's eyes. Dad was vulnerable and yet totally alive. Turned on. Fuck, this was gonna happen. Maybe I wouldn't even need the toys.

I kissed my way down, feeling my father shiver as I enjoyed the feel of his fur and his aged brawn. I went further, pushing Dad's legs back. That didn't get resistance but almost immediately his hand was on my head, stopping me.

"Can't son," he said. Not apologetic. Like, freaked out just from the fact I was gonna rim him.

Goddamnit.

"Power down," I said.

Dad's body relaxed, almost to the point of going limp. I even had to hold his legs in place, splayed back. I could see his squeaky clean pucker. Maybe this wasn't the Protocol, but I wasn't gonna waste a clean dad hole like this. Not after dreaming about it all day.

"When you were awake, how did you feel Brian?"

"Horny... then nervous."

"I understand... but, I'm going to share a secret with you that'll make the nerves fade away. You want that, right? You can speak freely”

“Yes, I don't want to be nervous for my boy.” I smiled. It must be hard for him. A man that has lived so long with this notion and wanting to get rid of it, knowing that it'll be a pleasure for him and his lover but unable to.

“Can you keep a secret?" I whispered, looking up from his hole. Damn, I wish I didn't have to do this right now. I was ready to rock his world. Nevertheless, I persisted.

"Yes." His voice was quiet, obedient, determined.

Damn, I was rock hard. This whole thing with dad recharged me in a way that I was ready to shoot again if dad helped me out. "You are a special man, Brian. Some men only have one pleasure spot. Their cocks. You have four."

"Four?" he said, a bit surprised with a hint of confusion.

"Yes, four. You've already found two. Your cock, and the back of your throat." I reached and caressed his cock a bit.

Dad's dick surged hard again when he felt my hand and my voice, the words and their meanings sinking in.

"You like when Kyle tickles the spot in your throat, don't you Brian?"

"I do," Dad answered.

"It's pure pleasure for you."

"Yes," he said.

I ran my fingers along his leg hair as I scooted in. Dropping my voice to an even more suggestive register, I continued, "You have a spot like that deep inside you, Brian. Deep in your ass."

His face grew questioning, but he nodded.

"So deep only your son can reach it. Kyle is the only man who has the key to unlock that spot for you."

"Kyle is a man." No hesitation.

Fuck, my cock just spurted some pre on to dad's furry belly.

"You know why he has that key?"

"Because Kyle loves me." His smile grew with his response. I loved this man.

"Yes, Kyle loves you and he wants you to feel that intense pleasure deep inside you."

"I am a lucky father."

"You are a lucky man, Brian. Because you have one more pleasure spot. Your asshole craves stimulation."

"Stimulation."

"You want Kyle to make that spot feel good, too."

"Yes."

We'd see if this works.

"Ok Brian, continue to listen to my voice. I am going to count to three. You will not realize you were under, but you will continue to follow all suggestions and instructions while you were in this state. Once you wake, you'll feel alive and happy and allow your boy do what he wants, you trust him. You want this. Understood?”

“I understand.”

“Let's wake up, handsome. One... two... three...”

Dad's body tensed beneath mine and he let out a breath. It took him a half second to refocus, but he smirked at me.

"You're hard as a rock, buddy," Without missing a beat he responded as though he hadn't been under.

I nodded. "You get me that way, Dad." I attacked his chest again with my lips then started the process of kissing lower. We'd see if this worked. I slowly got to his cock, kissing it before I went lower.

Dad was hesitant, I could feel his body stiffen but then I pulled his legs back again and he let me.

I saw my prize, that beautiful daddy hole winking at me, inviting me to love it. God, I wanted that more than anything, to show how good my tongue could feel in there... before something bigger went in.

"Son please..." He whispered. He knew it was going to happen and was nervous.

"I'm here dad, please trust me, let me make you feel good just like you make me feel good."

"I trust you son... I trust you completely." He bit his lip before reaching for his legs and raising them on his own.

"Aww fuck, dad..." I said and before he changed his mind, I dove into his ass and began to kiss it. I was in heaven, after so many years, I was rimming him, and it was amazing.

"My fucking God!" Dad cried. Unprepared for the sensations, he let out a moan and spread his legs wider. "Kyle! Buddy!"

"Yeah? Like your son eating this ass?" I asked as I pulled back to look up his furry beef and into his handsome face.

"I think so..." He opened his eyes, then watched as I dipped back in again to lick his entrance. "Yeah... that's it.... I love it, son. Keep going, eat your dad's ass, buddy."

"Thank you, dad, thank you," I muttered into his hole. I responded enthusiastically and began to really eat him out. Dad was moaning, his nipples were hard, his cock throbbing. The man had denied himself this feeling for too long, and I was happy and lucky to be the one giving him this pleasure.

"Eat me out, son, God your tongue is slithering in there." He was now bucking his hole against my face, almost riding my mouth. I still didn't know how much of this was the hypnotic suggestion or his body naturally feeling good from my hitting his spot but either way, I was not going to question it. Right now, I was going to enjoy myself and really give dad the full experience.

I moaned and nodded, really pushing my tongue into that nice, clean hole, wiggling it around before retreating to tease the pucker.

"My executive stud," Dad grunted, "Showing his dad how good it is to have him playing with his ass."

‘His ass,' fuck that made me double my efforts before I reached for his cock and began to play with it.

"Yeah buddy, play with it, that ass is yours, all yours stud. Fuck, you got me so hard, son." Goddamn, my father was contracting his abs and thrusting that vulnerable cherry hole up against my munching mouth. This was out of control in the best way.

Thank you, Tech Bro, I was getting everything I ever wanted. Never would Dad have let me do this before, and now he was encouraging me to play with his amazing dad hole. This guy at the Company knew what he was doing, and Dad and I were proof of it. I would recommend the service to however many people I could and leave a great Google review.

My man was now a moaning mess, sweating profusely, his nipples hard, his cock dripping precum, I wanted to concentrate on his pleasure and not mine. My cock would explode in my shorts for all I care if it meant that dad would love this enough to let me play in there whenever I wanted.

I pushed my tongue deeper in there as I felt his hole begin to open and suck on my tongue.

"I'm on the edge, buddy... ready to cum for my executive stud... shoot for my boy..." That was hot, I got off his ass and crawled until I was on top of him, "I love you dad, so damn much."

"I want to shoot my load for you, I want to give you my load, buddy."

"Shoot for your son, dad, shoot for your man." I kissed him again. He didn't object to tasting my lips fresh from his ass. I slipped Dad some tongue before pulling back. I wanted to rim him more.

Going back to his ass, I doubled my efforts, just as my hand gripped his cock as I began to stroke him.

"Give me that load, dad, shoot for your stud, show him what a good dad you are."

"Fuck son, fuck, fuck, eat me out.... You're working my spot, son," Dad grunted.

I nodded and increased the speed of my strokes. A combination of my tongue work and my hand on his cock, Dad moaned and then I felt his cock expand and shoot his load. I continued to stroke until I felt dad's hand on mine.

"Fuck, son...fuck..." He was shaking. I kissed his ass one last time before I let him lower his legs. Scooting up, I lay next to him, my cock hard as steel. We were both catching our breath. Dad had his arm over his eyes, like he was recovering from a marathon.

"Fuck..."

"How do you feel dad?" I asked as I laid my hand on his chest. His hairy chest was damp from the sweat, and I could feel his heart beating hard.

"Damn..." He responded before he laughed, "That was... amazing. So intense, I never... All I can say is.... fuck..."

I smiled and grabbed his head. He lifted his arm and looked at me, "Was it everything you hoped for?" He asked in a sultry voice.

"And more, dad, c'mere." He smiled and we kissed. We stayed kissing until he realized I had not shot, "You didn't cum?" He asked concerned.

"This was about your pleasure dad." I responded honestly.

"I'm such a lucky bastard. Let's get in the shower, son, I'll take care of you there."

***

Before bed, I pulled out the dildo I'd purchased.

"What's this?" He asked, chuckling, nervous as he saw me bring the thing out of the packaging.

"You washed yourself, now, we need to train your ass to get used to having something up there."

I was undeterred and I looked at him before saying, "Trust me, dad."

He bit his lip and nodded, "How do you want me?"

It was difficult but after rimming him again, to calm his nerves though it was more for me, I lubed him up and ran the dildo along his ass lips.

"Oh!" he grunted. I grinned and gave him a determined look as I ran the toy over his sensitive spot. The more I ran it over his ring, the more he seemed into it, and I watched him get a boner again. I took the cue to push it in. It wasn't too big, but it was enough.

"Easy son, I'm cherry back there." He urged, reaching down to grip my forearm. Dad has a strong grip.

I nodded and concentrated on just the inner part of his sphincter, eventually working an inch in and out, giving my old man time to get used to it. All in all, we both worked to get this next step completed. A compromise between my desire to see Dad penetrated and his desire to focus on the pleasures in his anus itself. We would both get a good night's sleep after our efforts this evening.

I was getting hard, and I stroked my cock in one hand while I used the other to diddle his hole.

Dad let out a grunt and another inch of that fake cock slid inside him. The suddenness tripped my wires.

"Fuck!" I gasped as a load shot out. Since Dad had sucked me off an hour before, it wasn't the heaviest cum, but it was bigger than I expected.

I thanked him with a kiss and pulled out the dildo, laying it on the nightstand.

"That was incredible, Dad," I muttered as he pulled my body to his, “I'm glad bud... and it was good for me too.” We fell asleep soon after, dad holding me in his arms.

[writeroutoftime]

tutoring

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader (requested by: @zablife)

summary: culinary school is hard, but luckily carmen is there to help you through

warnings: none

words: 0.9k

a/n: Lee, I'm sorry this took a little while for me to get out, but thank you for sending this my way, it was a lot of fun to write!! I was even searching 'a day in the life of a culinary student' to figure out what it might look like for them, lol! anyway, please enjoy!!

oOoOo

The blare of your alarm was the first thing that greeted you every day at 4:30 in the morning. Feeling as though your hand was made of lead, you reached out from underneath the covers and slapped it off, a groan not too far behind. As much as you longed to slip under the covers for another hour, you knew it was imperative you get to the kitchen and practice long before any of your classmates got there.

Throwing on your uniform, you made the short walk to the school's kitchen and quickly pulled out your cut boarding, knives, and vegetables. You took a moment to catch your breath and began practicing your dicing. It wasn't long before the knife slipped from your hand and you let out a shout, pushing away from the counter.

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes, and you let them fall thinking you were the only one in the cold, industrial kitchen. However, you quickly discovered you were, in fact, not alone when the there was a lot clattering from the other side of the room.

"Shit." someone whispered, obviously trying to hide.

"W-who's there?" you called out, quickly wiping away any evidence of your meltdown.

It took a moment, but a figure emerged from behind one of the refrigerators, raising his hands in faux surrender. "Ah, I'm really sorry, I wasn't trying to spy on your or anything."

You quickly recognized it as Carmen, from your classes, his blue eyes instantly recognizable. "It's okay, Carmen. W-what are you doing here so early?" you asked, trying to keep the attention off of you.

"Haven't been able to sleep." he shrugged. "Figured I'd come down early and set up before first lecture. What are you doing here so early? y/n, right?" he asked, pretending he didn't know your name or that he had recognized you even from behind.

Sheepishly, you glanced to failed dicing. "Just, you know, practicing." Embarrassed to admit to your faults when you had seen Carmen's flawless skills in the kitchen.

There was a long stretch of silence as Carmen looked at you, glanced to your station, and then back to you. "I could, um, you know, help you out." he offered. "Only if you want, and I'm not saying I like know everything or whatever." he quickly amended, looking rather frantic.

A small giggle slipped past your lips, and Carmen decided it was his new favorite sound. "That'd be great." you whispered, smiling your thanks.

"Oh, okay. Cool." Carmen said, almost surprised that you had agreed. "Why don't, uh, why don't you show me what you were doing, and we can see where to go from there."

Nodding, you picked the knife back up and continued to try and dice, trying to ignore Carmen's eyes watching you. No, watching your knife skill, you corrected yourself. Eventually, Carmen cut in with some advice, and continued to help you out. This went on for almost an hour until more students began to trickle in, setting up their stations before lecture.

"Same time tomorrow?" Carmen offered.

"Oh, no, I don't want you to have to get up so early every day. just to help me out, Carmen." you said, not wanting to scare Carmen away.

"I'll be up already, I promise." he said, trying to ease your worries. "And, uh, you can just call me Carmy. You know if you want."

You bit your lip to stop your smile from growing too large. "Okay, then, Carmy."

Carmy's tutoring continued on for the next few weeks. Each time, just after 5 in the morning, just the two of you in the kitchen. As time passed, you found yourself excited for your alarm to go off so you could spend some time with the curly-haired chef.

Slowly, your confidence grew in the kitchen with Carmy by your side. Patient and kind, Carmy always offered constructive criticism, never tiring when you asked him to demonstrate a technique just one more time. And if either of you noticed the way he began to stand closer and closer while watching you - enough you could feel his warm breath on your skin - neither of you said anything. But the conversation was easy and comfortable, and you, nor Carmy, wanted to let this opportunity slip away.

It was one morning, some weeks later, you found yourself with Carmy drinking coffee, instead of practicing. Your skills were nearly on par with Carmen's, and you suggested treating yourselves to coffee instead, just this once.

"So, what made you decide to apply to culinary school?" he asked.

"Cooking was such a huge thing for my family. You did it to show someone you loved them, you cared for them. And I wanted to take that feeling and offering it up to everyone. But no one in my family was a professional, so all the yelling and technical aspects of culinary school can be a bit jarring." you explained. "What about you?"

"Uh, my older brother has a restaurant. I loved watching him cook, too, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Show him this is something I can really do." he told you, staring deeply into his coffee cup.

You smiled at the vulnerability in his statement and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "I'm sure he's so proud of you." you smiled.

Carmy relished the way your hand felt covering his, and opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled away, bashful, and downed the rest of your drink. "Wel, we better get to lecture, huh?" you asked, seeming more nervous than Carmy had seen you in weeks.

He made a mental note to ask you about it after class, and though he didn't know it yet, the day would soon go down as one of his favorites, when you finally kissed him in response to his question.

[beansandsprouts]

Early Mornings

Dean Winchester x gn reader

Fluff

Summary: Morning Dean is your favorite Dean

Warnings: none

It was early when you woke up, the bunker was dead silent, aside from the sound of Dean's light snores in your room.

You smiled softly, face buried in his chest as you inhaled deeply, Dean's spicy soap filling your senses.

You didn't usually love waking up early, but when you were snuggled up next to Dean with his arms holding you close, you loved it.

Usually whenever you stared at Dean he teased you, a cocky grin spread on his face as he raised his brows and teased you. It never failed to embarrass you. But in the quiet of the mornings, you could stare as long as you wanted.

Your eyes trailed over his sleeping face. He looked so soft when he was asleep. The stresses of the job seemingly nonexistent. You lifted your hand to trace the shape of his lips, you loved his lips. You loved the way they moved when he was speaking, you loved the way they grinned proudly at you after a successful hunt, and you loved the way they kissed you so lovingly when the two of you were alone.

You sighed contentedly. Dean was so much more than you ever thought you'd have. He adored you. He was strong and resilient, determined and courageous. And he loved with all his heart when he allowed himself to. He was protective and brave and so, so kind.

Your hand trailed down to trace his jaw. That jawline had killed you when you first saw it. It was perfect. He was perfect. To you.

Dean's eyes cracked open and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Good morning sweetheart."

"Morning Dean."

"I will never get over the feeling of waking up to that pretty face of yours."

"I could say the same handsome." You murmured as you kissed him.

"Mmm morning kisses. My favorite."

His voice was heavy and rough with sleep. It always gave you butterflies. You loved sleepy morning Dean.

"You're a sap." You teased.

"Uh huh." He said, kissing you again.

He pulled back a little to look at your face, raising a hand to stroke your cheek.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"And I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

"Well aren't we a pair." He murmured as he pulled you close again.

The two of you laid there for awhile, tangled up in each other as the time ticked on. Occasionally you'd tilt your head to kiss his neck, an action that caused him to hum happily and kiss your head in return.

Eventually you could hear the sounds of the others in the bunker waking up, soft footsteps went passed your room that you could recognize as Mary's.

"We should get up." You whispered.

"Just a little longer baby. We don't get to do this enough."

"Mkay."

After awhile longer someone came knocking at your door, Mary peeked her head in.

"I'd wondered where Dean had gone off to. He wasn't in his room. Breakfast is ready if you want it. Pancakes." She smiled at the two of you.

She'd been your number one supporter from the beginning. She was the first person you told about your feelings for Dean. If it weren't for her encouragement, you likely wouldn't be snuggled in bed with him like you are now.

"Bacon?" Dean asked.

"What do you take me for? Of course there's bacon."

"We'll be there in a moment, thanks Mary."

"No problem honey." She said with a smile, before shutting the door and heading back to the kitchen.

You looked up at your lover, "Breakfast?"

He sighed and kissed your forehead, "Yeah alright."

He stood and pulled on the shirt he'd discarded on the floor the night before. You liked the feeling of laying on his bare chest, so you'd demanded he take his shirt off before getting in bed with you.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and put on some socks, the bunker floors were cold in the winter mornings.

Dean took your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours as you walked to the kitchen. You smiled warmly at him and he smiled back.

What more could you possibly ask for?

[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Five

Warnings: Self hate, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a minor character death, fluff

Characters: Reader, Dean, Michael, Jo

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

You had been living with Dean for five weeks now, and everything felt surprisingly normal. You both woke up early in the morning for work, so you got to have breakfast together. You liked having someone to talk to before going to work.

It was five in the morning as you and Dean shuffled around the kitchen in a comfortable silence. You had made some eggs and bacon for the both of you while Dean got ready for work. Since Dean passed the coffee shop to get to work, he would drop you off, and in return, you made him coffee to get him ready for the day. 

"Mornin' sweetheart." Dean grumbles as he comes out of his room, yawning. His hair was still tousled from sleep. You chuckle softly at the sight.

"Morning, Dean. Forget to brush your hair?" You snorted. Dean laughs as he smooths down his hair.

"Maybe I was trying out a new style, Y/n, ever think of that?" He sniffed, pretending to be mad.

"Aw, c'mon now, you never change up your routine, so I find that highly unlikely. And besides, you can't be mad at me forever, I made you breakfast." You set his plate down on the table, pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

"I got damn lucky to have you as a roommate." He sighed happily as he ruffles your hair before sitting down at the table, tucking into his breakfast.

"I could say the same." You smile as you eat with him. Storm was still asleep on the window seal. Despite Dean buying a cat bed for him to get into his good graces, the cat refused to actually sleep in the bed. He just sniffed at it before going back to what he was doing.

Once you and Dean were finished with breakfast, he took the plates and put them in the dishwasher, starting a load. You went and grabbed your apron for work before heading out the door with Dean, sliding into his beautiful Impala. "I hope you know that if I actually still drove, I'd totally wanna take Baby for a joyride." You joked.

Dean laughs softly, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You're more than welcome to drive her anytime you need, sweetheart. I won't stop you."

"Oh, um, nah." You shook your head gently. "I don't really drive anymore. I um, I got into a really bad car crash about a year ago and I don't really drive anymore because of it." It was the first time you had really talked about the car crash with anyone other than Jo or Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that sweetheart. Was everyone alright?" He frowns, looking over at you.

"Oh, um, yeah, I just had a broken arm. . . The other driver was okay too." 

Dean could tell that you wanted to drop the subject. "So, I was thinking, you don't work tomorrow, right? And you're done with exams?"

"Yeah, why?" You tilt your head curiously.

"Well," Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot of Chuck's. "I was thinking that tonight we go to my favorite bar and have some drinks, my treat. They're having karaoke tonight too, and I think it would be a lot of fun."

You mulled it over for a moment. You didn't drink much, but you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Dean a little better and let loose some. "I think that'd be a lot of fun, actually." You give him a gentle smile. 

"Perfect, I get off work tonight at 5. I'll pick you up and take you home on my lunch break, I don't want you walking home alone or anything." Dean gives you a boyish grin, the one that you had come to adore. 

"Thanks, Dean, you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness." And it was true. Dean was kind to you when it felt like you hit rock bottom. Being evicted from you apartment was rough, and you never expected him to offer his home up to you. Even though you hadn't known Dean long, you trusted him, and it seems that he trusted you. You hated to think about where you'd be without him right now.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. I'm just glad I could help you out. I've been where you've been before. My life has never been put together in the slightest, and there was a time when I had no place to go. I really could have used some help, and I want to be that person for you." He said softly, looking over at you.

"Well, I know I'm not much, but I'm here, and I can be the support you need. We can help each other." You offer him a gentle smile.

"I like the sound of that, Y/n, thank you." You lean over and give him a quick hug. 

"I'll see you on your lunch break, then. Let me go make your coffee really quick." You went in and unlocked the doors, making Dean a brown sugar latte and grabbed him a scone before bringing it out to him. "Have a good day at work." I reach through the window and ruffle his hair before heading back inside to tackle the day.

Jo was the next person scheduled to come in, and you hoped it was one of those rare days that she was actually on time. You had talked to her many times before about her punctuality, but it never seemed to stick with her. She was your best friend, and you didn't want to have to reprimand her, but it seemed that it was going to have to come to that. Thankfully, she was on time today, and you didn't have to say anything to her.

"Thank god my car started." She said as she walked in, clocking in on the computer. "I was scared she wasn't gonna crank. I really need a new car."

"Well, you're here, that's all that matters. Today's a Wednesday, so I'm expecting it to be a good day for us. This is usually our dead day, so I think it should be okay with just the two of us until eleven when Maddison comes in."

The day went off without a hitch, the customers were nice, it was a slow day, and everything seemed peaceful. That is, until the end of your shift. Dean was on his lunch break and he was waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home. He didn't mind hanging out in the coffee shop, as he found it rather peaceful. The front door dinged, signaling that there was a customer inside. "Hey, welcome to Chuck's! We'll be right w-" You broke off as you stared up at the man in front of you. Michael. You could feel your heart pounding out your chest as he glared down at you. You hadn't seen him in nearly two months, what made him want to come confront you now?

"We need to talk." He said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was 6'3 and he towered over you. It was something that had always intimidated you, especially when you were together.

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave." You tried to make your voice sound strong and determined, but it came out as just a small squeak. You hated the affect he had on you. For years he made you feel small, and even after the break up, he could still make you feel that way.

"Oh we have plenty to talk about, Y/n. Like how one day you just changed the locks to the apartment and had all of my stuff sitting out in the hall?"

"And you're just now wanting to talk about this, huh? You had nearly two months to reach out to me and to talk about this, but you picked now as the prime opportunity? When I'm at work?"

"Oh please," He scoffed. "You can hardly call this a job. Besides, I've been busy with other things." Dean's head perked up at the sound of arguing. He looked over at you and Michael. He could clearly tell you were in distress.

"Michael, just fucking leave. You're not welcomed here. Our relationship is over and there's absolutely nothing for us to talk about. You cheated, you were abusive, you were a shitty ass boyfriend. What else do you want me to say? I've listed a billion reasons as to why we broke up and you still can't accept that."

"Don't speak to me like that." He grabbed your wrist. "I guess I better teach you some manners." You try to pull away from his grasp. Before you could even shout for help, a fist connected with Michael's jaw. 

Dean looked pissed as he grabbed Michael by the shirt, slamming him against the wall. "What kind of pathetic coward lays hands on a woman?" He growled as he punched him again. "Come near Y/n ever again, and I swear to God himself, there will not be anything stopping me from beating you within an inch of your sad life. Got it?!"

You had never seen Dean so angry before, let alone get physical with someone. "And what's it to you, huh?! Why the hell do you care for some whore so much? Oh, I get it, you're fucking her, huh?" Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

Dean said nothing in return as he punched him once more before throwing him out to door. "Don't ever come near her again." Dean snarled before going to check on you. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God-"

"Dean. . ." You hugged him tightly. "I'm okay, he didn't hurt me. . . Thank you for sticking up for me." You whisper, tears in your eyes. Maddison and Jo watched as Dean wrapped his arms around you protectively. 

"No one's going to hurt my best girl on my watch, I promise you that." He said lowly, gently rubbing your back. "I'm guessing he's your ex boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is. . . I thought I was finally free of him, but he keeps popping back up like an infectious disease." You were holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Dean.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here." He wrapped his arm around you and led you out to his car. "Do you need me to stay with you? I can tell Bobby something came up." 

You shook your head gently. "No, that's okay. . . I don't want to impose. I'll be okay until you get off work tonight. . . Honestly, I don't even what to think about what just happened. And it doesn't even surprise me that he came here. I guess I was just hoping he'd forget about me." You ramble on, looking at your hands.

"You wouldn't be imposing, sugar." He said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you need me, I'm here, okay? There's not much goin' on at the shop today, so Bobby can afford to be on his own for the rest of the day."

You felt tears brim your eyes as you kept looking at your hands, refusing to look Dean in the eye. "I-I could use some company. . . If t-that's okay." You whispered quietly. Dean tilts your head up gently with his finger so you would look at him.

"I'll stay with you as long as you need, darlin'." He then surprised you by kissing your head. He was so caring and gentle with you, which was something you weren't used to. He drove back to the house, letting you pick the music for the drive. Once you got back, he called Bobby and explained the situation before following you inside. He grabbed some blankets and popped some popcorn. "So, what movie should we watch? Comedy, rom-com, action?" 

"You really don't have to do this for me, Dean. . ." You felt like a burden. You made Dean call out of work just so he could sit here and watch a movie with you. You were an awful friend and roommate.

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to. . . You're my best friend, Y/n, I want to make sure that you're okay. You've had a stressful day, and you need to unwind a bit. Plus, work was slow, wasn't much for me to do. I'd much rather sit here with my favorite girl and cheer her up." He sits down beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch. 

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let the tears flow. "I-I just want to be rid of him. He never let's me have any peace."

"Shh," Dean whispered softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm here sweetheart. . . He won't hurt you as long as I'm around, okay?" He kissed your head again, making you feel comfort. Storm jumped up on the couch, settling himself in your lap, purring softly. "See, darlin'? Even Storm's here to help you." That made the tears stream down your face harder. It felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything that you had held in from the break up came bursting out all at once, despite your attempts at pushing it down. Dean held you in his arms as you cried. "Breathe, Y/n, I need you to breathe for me, okay?" He murmured gently. You tried to breathe, but it just came out as choked sobs. Your body was shaking as you cried. Dean let you know that he was here, and that you were safe. You knew he was right. Being in his arms was the safest place for you. You knew that Dean would never hurt you, and that he would do everything in his power to protect you. 

Once you had calmed down, you found your voice. "Thank you for being here." Your voice was raw and hoarse from crying. Dean didn't mention it, he just smiled softly, kissing your temple.

"Of course, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He continued to run his fingers through your hair, as he could tell that's what was keeping you grounded. "We don't have to go out tonight, we can go some other time, I'm sure that you're tired after the day you've had."

You thought it over for a moment. "Actually, I think I still want to go out tonight. . . I just need to feel normal, and show that what he did doesn't get to me." You state confidently.

Dean grins at your confidence. "That's my girl." He let you get ready for your night out with him. You picked a pair faded ripped jeans from your draw, a black blouse, and a black leather jacket. You combed through your hair, trying to find a style you liked, eventually settling on having it braided. You came out of your room with a smile. Dean let out a low whistle as he saw you.

"You clean up nicely, darlin'." He grins. He was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt that fit him nicely and a pair of faded blue jeans. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. 

"Thanks, De. Shall we get going?" You grab you wallet as Dean grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He smiles, resting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out the door. You were very aware of his hand against your back. But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Dean was your friend and roommate. You couldn't risk anything. You slid into the Impala as Dean going into the drivers seat. You grinned as the car roared to life. The car was absolutely gorgeous, and you'd love to have an old car like this. That is, if you still drove. Past pains rear its ugly head into your thoughts, making you think of things you wish you could forget. You push it aside. Tonight was about having fun with your best friend.

You showed the bouncer your ID and you were let into the bar with Dean. It was packed since it was karaoke night. You and Dean slid up to the bar, you ordered your favorite drink and Dean got a whiskey and coke. "So, ya thinking about gettin' up there and singing?" Dean smirked as he looked to you.

"Me? Nah, I can't really sing." You shrugged.

"One, that's bullshit. I hear you singing in the shower all the time and you sound amazing. And two, no one who sings karaoke can sing. I'll do it with you if you sing." He offered you up a smile. You could never resist that boyish smile he had.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." Despite your words, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"Say what you want sweetheart. But hey, you get to pick the song and I can't complain."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "So if I picked a Taylor Swift song, you wouldn't say anything?"

"Hey, I can get down with TSwizzle, okay?" Dean held up his hands in defense. You couldn't help the laughter that racked through your body. 

"You did not just say TSwizzle-" You continued to laugh, Dean joining in.

"All I'm sayin' is that you can pick whatever song you like."

You went up to the karaoke machine, scrolling through until you found the perfect duet for you two. I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. "We're up next." You grin as you pull Dean towards the stage. Dean followed you up on stage, grabbing the mic. "Ready?" Dean nods as the song starts. Despite having never heard the song, he did it justice. You never knew Dean could sing. When you sang your parts together, Dean smiled over at you, his eyes gleaming. Once the song was over, he helped you down from the stage.

"Y/n, you were amazing! I knew you had a good voice, but damn, that was beautiful." He praised you, gently patting your shoulder.

"Me? Dean, I had no idea you could sing like that. You were fantastic!" You gently punch his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his ears turn pink. "Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it." He grinned.

"Aaand I think that some of the girls over there found your singing attractive." You chuckled as you looked over to a group of girls that were eyeballing Dean. "You should go talk to them!" You encouraged.

"Nah," He shook his head. "This night is about you and me, and celebrating our friendship." He gave you a smile. You couldn't help the small butterflies you felt in your stomach. Instead of going off with a girl, he wanted to spend time with you. But at the same time, you felt bad, because you felt like you were keeping him from having a fun time.

You felt like screaming at yourself, because you always did this. Every time there was something good going in your life, you found a way to get in your head and overthink things. You wished you could turn those voices in your head off. Sometimes those voices got particularly loud, especially in times like these. You tried to push them away and have a good time with Dean, but you couldn't help it.

"You okay, Y/n? You got really quiet all of a sudden." Dean said softly. Damnit, he knew you too well.

"Oh, yeah, it's um, it's just been a long day, y'know?" You cleared your throat, looking up at him.

"We can head home if you'd like?" He suggested, tilting his head to the side.

"No no, I'd hate to be a bother. You look like you're having so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that." You spoke softly.

"Sweetheart, if you're tired or you just don't feel up to being here anymore, you can tell me. I won't be upset. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you have to stay for my sake. Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as we're together, I'm happy to spend time with you."

You gave him a soft smile. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace right now." You sighed. "It's just been a long day with a lot going on. . . I promise to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/n, we can just spend some time together and watch a movie if you'd like?"

"I'd really like that, De. . . Thank you." You whispered gently. Dean ruffled your hair and went to pay for the tab. You rode home in a comfortable silence as Dean hummed along to the radio. You were stuck in your own head again, per usual. You were leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass on your cheek.

"Are you sure everything's alright, sweetheart?" He asked, looking over to you. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I dunno, I'm just really struggling mentally today. After everything that happened this afternoon, I just feel so. . . empty?"

"I get it darlin'. What do you need? Do you need some time by yourself, or do you wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Dr. Sexy MD?" He questioned, his voice gentle.

"I think that spending some time with you could help. . ." You couldn't help but smile. You felt safe with Dean, and even though you were having a tough time, you knew that everything was going to be okay as long as you were with him.

[foodandfolklore]

The Grimm Variations, Episode 5*

A new Netflix Anime has caught my eye. It's Called the Grimm Variations; which feature retellings of Original Brothers Grimm fairytales. But rather be a beat for beat, they are more reimagined. A "What If" kind of thing. I figured I'd share the original Fairytales these stories are based on for those interested.

Edit: I got the order of the episodes Mixed up, so I'll share them in the order I saw them. This one was Based on the Classic story Hansel and Gretel. A staple Fairytale for Kitchen Witches. Two children from a poor household trying to be driven away by their mother to save money. She keeps trying to lose them in the forest and they keep managing to find their way back. Until, one day, they don't and stumble into a Witch's Sweet Bread House. A common misconception about the story though is that Hansel and Gretel leave bread crumbs to find their ways home. So "Bread Crumbs" is a common turn of phrase used when describing clues left by others on purpose. However, they found their way home using stones. When they tried using bread crumbs, that's when they got lost as the wildlife ate their trail.

Hansel and Gretel

Near a great forest there lived a poor woodcutter and his wife, and his two children; the boy's name was Hansel and the girl's Grethel. They had very little to bite or to sup, and once, when there was great dearth in the land, the man could not even gain the daily bread. As he lay in bed one night thinking of this, and turning and tossing, he sighed heavily, and said to his wife, "What will become of us? we cannot even feed our children; there is nothing left for ourselves."

"I will tell you what, husband," answered the wife; "we will take the children early in the morning into the forest, where it is thickest; we will make them a fire, and we will give each of them a piece of bread, then we will go to our work and leave them alone; they will never find the way home again, and we shall be quit of them."

"No, wife," said the man, "I cannot do that; I cannot find in my heart to take my children into the forest and to leave them there alone; the wild animals would soon come and devour them." - "O you fool," said she, "then we will all four starve; you had better get the coffins ready," and she left him no peace until he consented. "But I really pity the poor children," said the man.

The two children had not been able to sleep for hunger, and had heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Grethel wept bitterly, and said to Hansel, "It is all over with us."

"Do be quiet, Grethel," said Hansel, "and do not fret; 1 will manage something." And when the parents had gone to sleep he got up, put on his little coat, opened the back door, and slipped out. The moon was shining brightly, and the white flints that lay in front of the house glistened like pieces of silver. Hansel stooped and filled the little pocket of his coat as full as it would hold. Then he went back again, and said to Grethel, "Be easy, dear little sister, and go to sleep quietly; God will not forsake us," and laid himself down again in his bed. When the day was breaking, and before the sun had risen, the wife came and awakened the two children, saying, "Get up, you lazy bones; we are going into the forest to cut wood." Then she gave each of them a piece of bread, and said, "That is for dinner, and you must not eat it before then, for you will get no more." Grethel carried the bread under her apron, for Hansel had his pockets full of the flints. Then they set off all together on their way to the forest. When they had gone a little way Hansel stood still and looked back towards the house, and this he did again and again, till his father said to him, "Hansel, what are you looking at? take care not to forget your legs."

"O father," said Hansel, "lam looking at my little white kitten, who is sitting up on the roof to bid me good-bye." - "You young fool," said the woman, "that is not your kitten, but the sunshine on the chimney-pot." Of course Hansel had not been looking at his kitten, but had been taking every now and then a flint from his pocket and dropping it on the road. When they reached the middle of the forest the father told the children to collect wood to make a fire to keep them, warm; and Hansel and Grethel gathered brushwood enough for a little mountain j and it was set on fire, and when the flame was burning quite high the wife said, "Now lie down by the fire and rest yourselves, you children, and we will go and cut wood; and when we are ready we will come and fetch you."

So Hansel and Grethel sat by the fire, and at noon they each ate their pieces of bread. They thought their father was in the wood all the time, as they seemed to hear the strokes of the axe: but really it was only a dry branch hanging to a withered tree that the wind moved to and fro. So when they had stayed there a long time their eyelids closed with weariness, and they fell fast asleep.

When at last they woke it was night, and Grethel began to cry, and said, "How shall we ever get out of this wood? "But Hansel comforted her, saying, "Wait a little while longer, until the moon rises, and then we can easily find the way home." And when the full moon got up Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the way where the flint stones shone like silver, and showed them the road. They walked on the whole night through, and at the break of day they came to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and when the wife opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Grethel she said, "You naughty children, why did you sleep so long in the wood? we thought you were never coming home again!" But the father was glad, for it had gone to his heart to leave them both in the woods alone.

Not very long after that there was again great scarcity in those parts, and the children heard their mother say at night in bed to their father, "Everything is finished up; we have only half a loaf, and after that the tale comes to an end. The children must be off; we will take them farther into the wood this time, so that they shall not be able to find the way back again; there is no other way to manage." The man felt sad at heart, and he thought, "It would better to share one's last morsel with one's children." But the wife would listen to nothing that he said, but scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B too, and when a man has given in once he has to do it a second time.

But the children were not asleep, and had heard all the talk. When the parents had gone to sleep Hansel got up to go out and get more flint stones, as he did before, but the wife had locked the door, and Hansel could not get out; but he comforted his little sister, and said, "Don't cry, Grethel, and go to sleep quietly, and God will help us." Early the next morning the wife came and pulled the children out of bed. She gave them each a little piece of "bread -less than before; and on the way to the wood Hansel crumbled the bread in his pocket, and often stopped to throw a crumb on the ground. "Hansel, what are you stopping behind and staring for?" said the father.

"I am looking at my little pigeon sitting on the roof, to say good-bye to me," answered Hansel. "You fool," said the wife, "that is no pigeon, but the morning sun shining on the chimney pots." Hansel went on as before, and strewed bread crumbs all along the road. The woman led the children far into the wood, where they had never been before in all their lives. And again there was a large fire made, and the mother said, "Sit still there, you children, and when you are tired you can go to sleep; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening, when we are ready to go home we will come and fetch you."

So when noon came Grethel shared her bread with Hansel, who had strewed his along the road. Then they went to sleep, and the evening passed, and no one came for the poor children. When they awoke it was dark night, and Hansel comforted his little sister, and said, "Wait a little, Grethel, until the moon gets up, then we shall be able to see the way home by the crumbs of bread that I have scattered along it."

So when the moon rose they got up, but they could find no crumbs of bread, for the birds of the woods and of the fields had come and picked them up. Hansel thought they might find the way all the same, but they could not. They went on all that night, and the next day from the morning until the evening, but they could not find the way out of the wood, and they were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but the few berries they could pick up. And when they were so tired that they could no longer drag themselves along, they lay down under a tree and fell asleep.

It was now the third morning since they had left their father's house. They were always trying to get back to it, but instead of that they only found themselves farther in the wood, and if help had not soon come they would have been starved.

About noon they saw a pretty snow-white bird sitting on a bough, and singing so sweetly that they stopped to listen. And when he had finished the bird spread his wings and flew before them, and they followed after him until they came to a little house, and the bird perched on the roof, and when they came nearer they saw that the house was built of bread, and roofed with cakes; and the window was of transparent sugar. "We will have some of this," said Hansel, "and make a fine meal. I will eat a piece of the roof, Grethel, and you can have some of the window-that will taste sweet." So Hansel reached up and broke off a bit of the roof, just to see how it tasted, and Grethel stood by the window and gnawed at it. Then they heard a thin voice call out from inside,

"Nibble, nibble, like a mouse, Who is nibbling at my house?"

And the children answered,

"Never mind, It is the wind."

And they went on eating, never disturbing themselves. Hansel, who found that the roof tasted very nice, took down a great piece of it, and Grethel pulled out a large round window-pane, and sat her down and began upon it.

Then the door opened, and an aged woman came out, leaning upon a crutch. Hansel and Grethel felt very frightened, and let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said, "Ah, my dear children, how come you here? you must come indoors and stay with me, you will be no trouble." So she took them each by the hand, and led them into her little house. And there they found a good meal laid out, of milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. After that she showed them two little white beds, and Hansel and Grethel laid themselves down on them, and thought they were in heaven.

The old woman, although her behaviour was so kind, was a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had built the little house on purpose to entice them. When they were once inside she used to kill them, cook them, and eat them, and then it was a feast day with her. The witch's eyes were red, and she could not see very far, but she had a keen scent, like the beasts, and knew very well when human creatures were near. When she knew that Hansel and Grethel were coming, she gave a spiteful laugh, and said triumphantly, "I have them, and they shall not escape me!"

Early in the morning, before the children were awake, she got up to look at them, and as they lay sleeping so peacefully with round rosy cheeks, she said to herself, "What a fine feast I shall have!" Then she grasped Hansel with her withered hand, and led him into a little stable, and shut him up behind a grating; and call and scream as he might, it was no good. Then she went back to Grethel and shook her, crying, "Get up, lazy bones; fetch water, and cook something nice for your brother; he is outside in the stable, and must be fattened up. And when he is fat enough I will eat him." Grethel began to weep bitterly, but it was of no use, she had to do what the wicked witch bade her. And so the best kind of victuals was cooked for poor Hansel, while Grethel got nothing but crab-shells.

Each morning the old woman visited the little stable, and cried, "Hansel, stretch out your finger, that I may tell if you will soon be fat enough." Hansel, however, used to hold out a little bone, and the old woman, who had weak eyes, could not see what it was, and supposing it to be Hansel's finger, wondered very much that it was not getting fatter.

When four weeks had passed and Hansel seemed to remain so thin, she lost patience and could wait no longer. "Now then, Grethel," cried she to the little girl; "be quick and draw water; be Hansel fat or be he lean, tomorrow I must kill and cook him." Oh what a grief for the poor little sister to have to fetch water, and how the tears flowed down over her cheeks! "Dear God, pray help us!" cried she; "if we had been devoured by wild beasts in the wood at least we should have died together."

"Spare me your lamentations," said the old woman; "they are of no avail." Early next morning Grethel had to get up, make the fire, and fill the kettle. "First we will do the baking," said the old woman; "I nave heated the oven already, and kneaded the dough." She pushed poor Grethel towards the oven, out of which the flames were already shining.

"Creep in," said the witch, "and see if it is properly hot, so that the bread may be baked." And Grethel once in, she meant to shut the door upon her and let her be baked, and then she would have eaten her. But Grethel perceived her intention, and said, "I don't know how to do it: how shall I get in?"

"Stupid goose," said the old woman, "the opening is big enough, do you see? I could get in myself!" and she stooped down and put her head in the oven's mouth. Then Grethel gave her a push, so that she went in farther, and she shut the iron door upon her, and put up the bar. Oh how frightfully she howled! but Grethel ran away, and left the wicked witch to burn miserably.

Grethel went straight to Hansel, opened the stable-door, and cried, "Hansel, we are free! the old witch is dead!" Then out flew Hansel like a bird from its cage as soon as the door is opened. How rejoiced they both were! how they fell each on the other's neck! and danced about, and kissed each other! And as they had nothing more to fear they went over all the old witch's house, and in every corner there stood chests of pearls and precious stones. "This is something better than flint stones," said Hansel, as he filled his pockets, and Grethel, thinking she also would like to carry something home with her, filled her apron full. i! Now, away we go," said Hansel, "if we only can get out of the witch's wood." When they had journeyed a few hours they came to a great piece of water. "We can never get across this," said Hansel, "I see no stepping-stones and no bridge."

"And there is no boat either," said Grethel; "but here comes a white duck; if I ask her she will help us over." So she cried,

"Duck, duck, here we stand, Hansel and Grethel, on the land, Stepping-stones and bridge we lack, Carry us over on your nice white back."

And the duck came accordingly, and Hansel got upon her and told his sister to come too. "No," answered Grethel, "that would be too hard upon the duck; we can go separately, one after the other." And that was how it was managed, and after that they went on happily, until they came to the wood, and the way grew more and more familiar, till at last they saw in the distance their father's house. Then they ran till they came up to it, rushed in at the door, and fell on their father's neck. The man had not had a quiet hour since he left his children in the wood; but the wife was dead. And when Grethel opened her apron the pearls and precious stones were scattered all over the room, and Hansel took one handful after another out of his pocket. Then was all care at an end, and they lived in great joy together. My tale is done, there runs a mouse, whosoever catches it, may make himself a big fur cap out of it.

[surrogate-fawn]

The First Goodbye

((Drabble based on the backstory of a RP done with @mittysins of Fawn's very first experience with birth.))

TW: Teen pregnancy (18+, but still), Forced adoption, Mentions of past abuse.

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

I found out I was in labor when I took my lunch break.

When the manager excused me, I would usually head to the back of the UDF to grab a Lunchable to snack on; but with the baby sitting so hard on my bladder, the first thing I did upon clocking out was haul-ass to the bathroom. As I was cleaning up, I noticed something unusual: a large yellow clot, with tiny streaks of blood. It sat there on the paper, lookin' like an egg yolk and grossing me the hell out.

I remembered something the doctor said to me, but it was faint. Something about a mucus plug? I think that's what it was called. I just remembered something about mucus coming out, and how it meant labor was starting.

That was when I started to worry. I'd been having cramps that day, but I was having cramps pretty much all the time now. The baby was tugging hard at my lower back, his feet were in my ribs, and pretty much everything hurt 24/7. But, if the mucus plug had come out...that meant I was in labor, right? And if I was in labor, I had to be worried. That was something to worry about!

I decided not to say anything about it to the manager, though. If I asked to leave early again, I'd get written up. I'd already asked to leave early twice in the six months I'd had this job, both times because the morning sickness was kicking my ass.

I couldn't afford to get fired. I fuckin' needed that job.

I ate my lunch and went back to work, but I started keeping a closer eye on the cramps I was having. I knew I should've been timing them, but the last three hours of my shift had to handle the after-school rush of kids wanting ice cream. So, I couldn't really keep track.

I grinned at the elementary school kids and their parents as they came in. Some of the kids were little shits, but the majority of them were sweethearts -- especially the kids that came in often. They were always so excited to see the colorful ice cream flavors lined up behind the glass, and some even jumped for joy when I handed them their cones. I felt the baby kick me while I worked, and I absently rubbed the place on my belly where his little heel was causing a bruise.

"Is this your first?" the woman on the other side of the counter asked me, as I poured sprinkles over her daughter's strawberry swirl.

"Oh....yeah, he is," I said with the most winning smile I could muster.

"How sweet!" the mother beamed as we moved to the register. "When are you due, sweetie?"

Shit, when was I due? Was this too early? I couldn't remember the date the doctor gave me all those months ago. I hadn't had insurance for months.

"Soon," I said with a grin. "Real soon."

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

I had my first real contraction while on my walk home. I was stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, when a deep ache started in my back. I grunted and stretched, but the tightness didn't ease until I made it across the street.

The second one happened a half-hour later when I was climbing the stairs to my room at the women's shelter. I paused and rubbed the side of my belly, the discomfort catching me off-guard. It felt like a period cramp, but really, really strong. The kind of period cramp that would give you a day off from homeschool, so your mom could wrap you in a blanket that had been washed in lavender water and make you herbal tea.

I made a pit-stop in the community kitchen to steep some of the leftover tea in the drawer. It wasn't the same kind Mom made, but it was close enough.

I spent the rest of the day alone in my room, packing some last-minute items into my duffel bag. I'd accepted by then that I was in labor, and I started working on timing my contractions. I would pace between my bed and the wall when the pain would start in my back, stepping in time with my internal counting: "One...two...three...four...five..." until the contraction ended.

I remembered reading about the five-one-one rule in a pregnancy book I borrowed from the library, so I knew it was probably going to be a while before I reached that point. I was only counting to twenty on each contraction, and the goal was sixty. At least I had time.

I used the landline to call UDF and tell the manager on duty that I'd gone into labor and wasn't going to be available to work for the next week. He did not sound happy about it, but it wasn't like he didn't know I was pregnant. Baby's gotta come out sometime.

So, good. At least I didn't need to worry about work. A jolt of anxiety shot through me when I realized I'd just lost a week's worth of pay. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving my hands to hold up my belly. That wasn't important right now. I could deal with that later.

For now, I just had to focus on myself and the baby.

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

When the sun set, I decided to try and get some sleep. I would need my energy later.

What sleep I did get wasn't good. I kept waking up with the feeling I was falling, only to realize I was still in bed. I would lie there awake until a contraction inevitably started, and I would hold my belly and try to steady my breath. They were getting pretty bad by then, every muscle in my torso squeezing inward -- even my shoulder blades were being pulled down my back. I would lie there on my side, huff a few breaths until the pain faded, and then try to fall back asleep.

Rinse and repeat. For hours, and hours, and hours.

Once, only once, I was able to fall asleep enough to dream; but even that didn't help. A contraction in my sleep turned my dream into memories. The pain started in my lower back, and Alexander was subtly crushing my hip in his hand when I said something wrong in front of our friends. The cramping spread to my belly, and Alexander was slamming his fist into my gut while his other hand pinned me by the neck to the mattress. I heard the ghost of his voice in my head, even after I woke up with a pained gasp:

"If 'ya won't get rid of it, I will! I ain't raisin' a kid!"

I laid awake for another two hours, blaming myself for everything. I should've left Alex years ago, before he ever had the chance to get me pregnant. Hell, I never should've dated him in the first place; but I still remembered why I did.

Alex was my first taste of freedom. I was homeschooled until the ninth grade, on a commune where the philosophy was "love is free". My parents were honest with us kids that they didn't just sleep with one another, and that some of my younger siblings were likely not my dad's. It was the same story with most other families on the commune, and that was the only lifestyle I'd ever known.

When I entered the general public for the first time, Alex was the first to tell me I was the only one his love was for. One love, for one lifetime and beyond. That was a concept I'd never thought was possible. I'd been taught that a human is too sexual of a creature to stay with one partner forever; but there Alexander was, telling me I was his one and only. Forever. He told me he wanted to be my one and only. Forever.

So, I stayed.

Even when the playful insults stopped being playful, I stayed.

Even when his occasional annoyance turned into constant anger at me, I stayed.

Even when the pinches and nudges turned into punches and shoves, I stayed.

Even when the apologies stopped meaning anything, I stayed.

I only left when I had someone I needed to protect.

My life changed a week after high school graduation, when I saw those two pink lines on the bathroom counter. There was a last glimmer of hope when I showed them to Alex, but he snuffed it out immediately.

I packed my bags with what I could carry, promised Alex that I was going over state lines to get an abortion, and took the first bus that was going in the opposite direction.

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

And now here I was, having my last moments alone with the baby. I cradled my bump as it sat in my lap, slowly tracing the outline of the baby I could feel with my hands.

"I'm really gonna miss you," I said to my belly, feeling his legs wiggle around at my touch. "I don't feel so lonely when I get to talk to you."

It was seven in the morning, and the contractions were really starting to pick up after about seventeen hours of labor. I sat on the edge of my bed, dressed in leggings and a maternity t-shirt from Goodwill. My duffel bag sat next to me, full of what I would need: a change of clothes, a bunch of menstrual pads, a few bottles of water, and a toothbrush with toothpaste. Everything I would need for my hospital stay.

I leaned back on the bed with a groan, feeling a contraction wrap around my torso. "Alright, kiddo," I huffed, breathing through the pain. "I hear 'ya. Let's go."

The contractions were a regular five minutes apart now, but weren't lasting a full sixty seconds. I figured now would be a good time to leave for the hospital, before things got too serious.

I spent the next hour hailing a cab, standing on the street corner with my bag hung over my shoulder. I rocked back and forth when I felt a contraction, breathing through my nose. I was starting to feel a distinct pressure in my pelvis. It kind of felt like I had to pee really bad, but not exactly. I could tell it was a different kind of pressure, something that was trying to come out of a place nothing had ever come out before.

The cab took me to the hospital and I had just enough cash to cover it. I stood in front of the hospital doors and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. The realness of the situation was sinking in, and I was scared.

"Okay, baby," I whispered, giving my underbelly a rub. "You ready to meet your parents? They're waiting on 'ya."

The baby nudged my ribs again, and I took that as my cue to enter the lobby.

The baby. Not my baby. He wasn't mine. Well, he wouldn't be soon.

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

David and Kira were amazing people. There was a reason I had chosen them, out of all the couples that approached me, to be the parents of the baby. They had adopted twice before, and they even invited me to their house to sign the legal papers. Their older children seemed very happy and healthy. The house was clean and big enough for one more addition, in a nice neighborhood. They were even paying for my hospital stay. They were perfect for him.

Certainly better for him than a homeless nineteen-year-old without a future.

Despite how wonderful they were, I did not want them in the delivery room with me. I just wanted to be as unseen as possible. The nurses took pity on me, a teenaged girl laboring all alone with a baby she wasn't going to keep. I must have been a truly pathetic sight, especially as active labor wore on for several more hours.

I remember hanging from the sink in the bathroom, screaming for the first time as the first full-blown contraction hit me. My body shrank in on itself, my arms and legs aching from the force of it. I remember feeling the weight of the head sit heavy on my cervix as the nurse rushed in to check me right there on the bathroom floor. I was only at five centimeters. Halfway there.

I was made aware that David and Kira had arrived at the hospital and were waiting in a separate room somewhere else in the maternity ward. I told the nurses to send them updates as often as they wanted...just, please, don't let them in the room.

I was offered an epidural more than once, but I refused it. I almost changed my mind several times, especially when I reached seven centimeters and the pressure was starting to make my ears ring. But I was afraid it would slow down my progress, and I just wanted this over with. I just wanted him out.

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

I started screaming for pain relief the second my water broke, and the baby's head started sinking through my cervix. A quick check showed I was in transition, and an epidural was no longer safe for them to give me.

My eyes stung as sweat dripped into them, my pulse hammering as my body prepared for the imminent birth. I felt like a gun ready to fire, and the pressure of the bullet inside my birth canal was maddening. It burned, it ached, it throbbed. It was the worst pain I'd felt in my life.

I remember sobbing as a nurse placed a cold compress over my forehead. The nurse had bright orange nails, I remember that too. I don't remember her face, or her name, but I wish I did. All I remember of her were those bright orange acrylic nails as her hand wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"You're almost done, Fawn," I heard her say. Her voice was fluffy and sweet, like cotton candy. "We've all been so proud of you!"

I remember what I said then, because I kept saying it for several minutes. I screamed it, tears streaming down my cheery-red face:

"I want my mom! I want my mom! I want my mom!"

I don't know how long it took me to run out of breath, but the next thing I remember is that same nurse stroking my sticky hair. I could smell the scent of her skin, and it made me feel warm.

"I know, honey," I heard her whisper. "I know you want your mama, but we're here for you. Hear me? You got all of us right here."

I don't remember if I said anything else after that, because right around then is when I felt the need to push hit me like a satellite. I might have used some very unbecoming language, but I don't remember.

The next thing I knew, I had my feet up in the stirrups and I was clinging for dear life to a towel they'd tied to the bed's squat bar. It was uncomfortable as hell and when I pushed, I felt like I was barely making any progress. But I couldn't move, and I had no other choice but to push up against gravity.

I'd been in labor for twenty-six hours, and I had officially lost the energy to scream. Every last ounce of willpower I had was being forced down between my legs. I could hear that same orange-nailed nurse saying something to me, but I have no idea what it was.

I felt the head starting to slip out when I pushed, but as soon as I relaxed it would slide right back inside. I didn't need to see what was happening I could fucking feel it.

The doctor's gloved hands helped to stretch me around the baby's head, but I just wished she'd stop -- it hurt bad enough without being pulled apart like a grilled cheese sandwich. My legs shook as hellfire ignited between my legs, but whatever noises I tried to make came out as muted grunts. All I could do was push. I knew if I just closed my eyes and pushed, it would eventually be over.

I felt the nose sliding past my skin, and I peered through one open eye in time to see a spurt of fluid as the head slipped out with a wet pop.

"There he is!" the orange-nailed nurse said. "He's on his way, Fawn!"

I tried to see over my belly, but I couldn't move my hips out of the position the stirrups held me in. I could feel the weight of his body siting right behind my lips, stretching me horrendously from the inside.

"Big push, Fawn," the doctor said as another contraction wound up. "Let's get him out."

But I didn't want him out anymore. I didn't want to let him go. Once it was over, it would be...over.

I wanted more time. I wanted to talk to him, safe in my belly, when I felt homesick. I wanted to feel him move and kick, and remember I wasn't alone in this shitty situation. I didn't want to let him go yet. I just wanted more time!

It was too late for more time. He wanted out and he wanted out right that second!

I pulled as hard as I could on the coiled towel and pushed until I felt dizzy. The doctor tugged gently under his shoulders, and I felt his body gush from me in a last rush of fluid.

The relief I felt was euphoric, better than any drug that might be out there. All the pressure, all the pain, it vanished as soon as he was out. My limbs turned into putty and I collapsed back against the bed, a black halo surrounding my vision.

Then I heard him cry. A loud, mewling wail that showed he was healthy. I turned my head and saw the doctor handing a nurse a blanket, inside of which a purple arm and a blue foot flailed around.

"Ohh, Fawn," I heard the nurse whisper. "He's beautiful."

My head was spinning, and I'm pretty sure I dipped into unconsciousness for a few seconds. When I opened my eyes again, I saw a small pink body laying naked on a table under a light, a measuring tape wrapped around the crown of his bald head. I could feel someone applying pressure to my perineum, and a quick glance by my legs showed the doctor was working on something down there. I probably tore, but it didn't hurt yet.

I turned my eyes back towards the baby, but they'd already wrapped him in a blanket and was fitting a tiny blue hat over his head. How adorable. A nurse picked up the baby-ritto and carried him to the door.

By the time I realized they were taking him away, the door was closing behind them. I blinked at the door, silent and pale as snow.

That was it, then. He was gone.

I let my head loll back onto the thin pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling as the doctor fixed me up. I didn't move from that position as they wheeled me to a recovery room, far away from the maternity ward. They at least took me away from the sounds of crying babies and happy new families.

I may have cried at this point, but I don't remember.

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

I spent two days recovering in the hospital, bleeding like a stuck pig and hardly able to move because of the stitches between my legs. I had no visitors, save for the nurses who came in to check on me and bring me meals. My breasts leaked colostrum onto my hospital gown, food for a baby that wasn't there.

I was eight pounds, six ounces lighter when I stepped out of that hospital. It felt like I was missing more than that, though.

I took a cab back to the women's shelter and suffered the climb back up to my room. I lowered myself onto my bed with an agonized moan, quickly laying on my side because it hurt too much to sit.

My belly still rolled outward like a hill, but there was no movement there anymore. I attentively stroked it, feeling its new texture. It was soft and empty, no longer full and firm.

I was alone now. I was all alone.

At least I knew the baby was in a better place than I was.

My baby was in good hands.

~ End~