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imaginarytheatre · 1 month ago

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I've Reincarnated As The Villainess! - Childe x Reader

Synopsis: You woke up one day in the TV show your friend made! Even worse, you're the villainess! The General, Childe, is your fiancé, and you only hope you can survive. Especially with the heroine around...

Word Count: 6.5K

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You weren't the Mistress type, yet here you are.

One day, when you suddenly woke up, you found yourself in satin sheets, with your hair perfectly curled, and the most expensive dress you've ever worn. You had to rub your eyes to make sure that you weren't dreaming. You saw the room around you, and it was significantly bigger than your own room.

Where were you?

You got up from the bed, each crease in the bed sheets tearing away at your heart. You couldn't imagine how much they cost, only to ruin them. You decided to walk through the marble halls, an aesthetic you never thought you'd see in your lifetime. You saw paintings of a woman and a man dressed in very high-end clothing, but they didn't seem like they were from the present. Yet they seemed oddly familiar.

You saw a mirror at the end of the hall, and you thought to do a checkup before you decide to meet whoever owned this place. They probably had high standards, judging by their taste in architecture.

When you looked into your reflection, you saw it. You saw her. And that girl in the reflection was not you.

You saw the villainess of the show your friend produced, “Taming the General.”

The heroine is just your common girl with a somewhat well-known doctor of a father. Truth be told, her father was only renowned when the plot demanded it. The heroine was just a girl doing alright, before she's picked up by the General's right-hand man overnight. She's then escorted to the General's palace. Turns out the General's been having heart conditions. She did some treatments on him and the General fell in love with her at first sight, even though he was engaged to the villainess. Villainess gets dumped because true love or something, the end.

…Yeah, your friend had very questionable taste. And her series reflected that, but finishing a series is more impressive.

In the mirror, you saw yourself reflected, the villainess of taming the General. You couldn't help but let out an impressively high shriek. The General's right-hand man came running out of his room quickly.

“My lady, are you alright?” He asked, worried immensely. It looked like you scared him.

“You…!” Was the only word able to come out of your mouth? In your defense, you were looking at a fictional character while being in the body of a fictional character.

“My lady, might I ask, have you forgotten me?” he asked hesitantly, seeming almost hopeful that you had forgotten. You just nodded, not really knowing what to say.

He oddly brightened up before panicking once more. “The Mistress is ill, I must send for the medic. Please return to your room, and everything will be fine!”

“Um, thank you? But-” You were cut off by his illuminating smile. It seems any slight bit of kindness you showed him made him act oddly.

He bowed at a sharp 90-degree angle, but his movements were in such a fluid motion, that he ended up barely looking real. You suppose he isn’t really meant to be anyway. “Such kindness from the Mistress!”

He practically cheered before he ran out to get a doctor. However, the reason you wanted to stop him was because you had forgotten which way you came from. And now, you were lost. You couldn't help but grumble to yourself that this was more of a fault on his end rather than yours since he knew you had memory loss.

‘Well, I know I came from the other side of the mirror, so maybe I should just keep walking there? Surely I'll reach my room,’ You thought to yourself. You most certainly did not reach your room. You ended up spiraling through several staircases, which made you way more out of breath than you had anticipated. I mean, who makes a house with this many staircases? Just walking around is like a workout. You ended up passing through several different rooms, such as a music room, a library, and a kitchen. Well, you tried to enter the kitchen, but the staff seemed panicked at your presence, so you just left.

It felt like a sting, knowing that it was most likely due to your villainous reputation that you were so feared. But it wasn't exactly you that had fostered it.

–

You kept walking, feeling like you'd lapped a place fifty times before finally you gave up at the library once again. ‘How many times did I see that book again? Six? Maybe seven?’

“Never thought you were the studious one. Guess I'm finding out something new about you.” You heard a voice from the bookshelf.

“Huh?” You couldn't help but say it out loud. Was this bookshelf really talking to you? It wasn't out of the question. You are in a TV series world.

You reached out to knock on the bookcase. Was it truly sentient? Were you actually knocked out in a coma somewhere and this was just your mind making up little silly stories while doctors tell your family the bad news? You whisper out slowly, “If you can understand me... please say... banana.”

“...Banana.”

Oh god, okay, it was sentient. It was a sentient god bookshelf that you were talking to. What do you do in this situation? Should you call the cops? How do you call the cops on a sentient bookshelf god? Can the cops arrest a bookshelf?

You heard laughter from the bookshelf. Or maybe it was behind the bookshelf. You suddenly felt very stupid. “Ahahah, oh god, I can't believe you actually fell for that,” A boyish voice said.

A ginger-haired man walked out from behind the shelf. Ah, The Warrior General. Of the North, of course. Tartaglia. But that was just his battlefield name. He went by Childe when he didn't don armor.

You can't help but frown at him. It was totally his fault that you fell for such a very totally believable lie because everyone believes in bookshelf gods.

But, you mean, you don't want him to have such a huge ego now, do you? “As if I fell for that,” You replied, “I mean, it was totally unbelievable. You could do better.”

Childe seemed taken aback by your reply. Just a second ago, he looked ready to wince, probably at the villainous's sharp words attacking him. However, you weren't nearly as sharp with yours, even in her body.

“Playing coy, are we?” He asked in a playful tone. “It almost seemed that you were having a conversation with a bookshelf.”

“I so was not,” You replied with your hands on your hips, trying to give off a dominant villainous aura. You weren't doing a very good job, but he didn't have the heart to tell you. Not when you were being so nice today.

“Oh, really? Then where was this not-at-all-coy lady trying to go?” He mused.

You thought about it for a second. “Oh!” You exclaimed. “That's right, I was supposed to return to my room.”

“Oh, what's so urgent that you must rush to your room without saying hi to me? He pretended to pout. You made a mental note to tell your friend (if you ever saw her again) that her male lead was really cute.

You replied with such bravado, “I have amnesia.”

–

And that's how you ended up tucked back into your bed with the General of the North and the Heroine all fretting over you. Well, the former more. In the series, the Heroine was meant to be a morally good person who wanted to help as many people as possible. It’s why she ended up following her father’s footsteps.

But…

“You seem fine,” The heroine says with a deadpan snark.

You look at her, mildly from shock and mildly from confusion. “Yeah, I know I look fine. I have amnesia, not a broken neck.”

“You know, you really took us for a ride there,” Childe says, as his hand nearly grazes just on top of your head. It seems like he hesitated, debating whether to touch you before putting his hand back down.

“Thank you, Colette, for coming to check on my fiancé.” He told the Heroine. So her name is Colette! …You weren’t going to tell your friend that you forgot.

“Childe! You should have told me it was for your fiancé and not you!”

…Oh hell no. Ancient times had pick-mes too??

She pressed the tip of her index fingers together. “I mean, I prepared so much for your heart condition today. If only I knew it was just for your fiancé, I wouldn't have done so much.” You winced at this clearly desperate attempt. And you could see Childe mirror your face.

Huh. You didn't remember the male lead ever reacting negatively to the heroine. Actually, this was a point you brought up with your friend, but she said it was fine, so…

Actually, thinking back, even Childe had reacted somewhat friendly when you had met him in the library. And now the heroine is acting petty. Could your presence in the story have altered it in some way?

“So your fiancé-”

Childe cut her off, “The Mistress.”

Colette's eyes widened, and yours would too, if you were seriously invested in the plot of this trashy TV series. In the series, Childe had never chastised the heroine, especially for the sake of his fiancé. Whether for the sake of honour or respect, it was a welcome gesture. You guess this Childe isn't as 2D as the series made him out to be.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I thought we were close enough to be on bases where we don't need to refer to each other with a lot of respect.” She said, as sad as she could. Childe just looked away. You're starting to wonder whether Childe actually did, as the TV series showed, and took interest in her, or whether it was more that she took interest in him.

“Anyways,” You shook your head and tried to get off the bed, “I'm mostly fine, so I don't think you'd need to worry.”

Childe stopped you before you could fully get up. “Whoa, whoa, I don't think you're going anywhere when you can't recall everything properly.” You bit your tongue before you could tell him that you knew the story very well, thanks to your friend.

Childe's right-hand man comes back into the room. “Miss Doctor,” he calls out, “I have some paperwork for you to sign.”

“Oh yes,” she says, a bit dejected. She sneaks a glance at Childe before leaving with the right-hand man.

You see him wink at you, before leaving. Yeah, you like this guy.

“Soooo…” You say, dragging on. You didn't really know what to say. Not when Childe read it over you like that. But, you recalled the story, not going into depth about the romance between the General and the villainess. So, him taking any interest in you, caught you off guard.

“...You really lost your memory, didn't you?” He says you couldn't tell whether he sounded happy or upset. It sounded like a fact, but he had put a lot of thought into it. It was so odd for such a simple statement.

You thought about it before answering. You did know about some facts of this world, so could you really say that you had lost all your memory? What if you slipped up?

“I remember some basic stuff, but just not everything,” You lied. How else were you supposed to explain the fact that you didn’t come from a cringe TV show?

“I see, hmm… Well you definitely seem a lot cheerier than before. You probably don't remember, but you were such a grumpy little thing.” He says with a grin, but you can tell he didn't quite like the way the villainess acted. It's not like the villainess didn't do anything to deserve that.

Well, fine, if you want to play like that, you could also play, and you'd play even better. “Well, if you just wanted me to be nicer to you, you could have just begged.” You say, batting your eyelashes? “I mean... Did you even try?”

You couldn't see Childe's face from behind batting your eyelashes like you were trying to create a tornado, but you can imagine he was as flabbergasted as can be.

“You just keep knocking me for loops today, Mistress.” He says with a lopsided smile. It looks like the most real smile that you've seen from him today.

You smiled back, “Right back at you, General.”

You felt a weird sensation wash over the air, the way this supposed cold General looked over you. The way he looked he wanted to know you better. It just felt so real and just so…

Oh no.

Oh no no no, you were catching feelings. Bad villainess!

You've watched too many k-dramas to not feel what was in the air and what was in the air was this tragic thing called love. At least it would be in the air if you couldn't hear the General's right-hand man and Colette arguing in the hallway. Something or rather about not messing it up.

Childe's hand twitches. You didn't miss it. You could tell he probably wanted to try touching you again, but waited.

“You can do it, you know,” You say, looking away, a bit shy all of a sudden. Villainesses weren’t supposed to be shy! You miss the way Childe's eyes become wide and the smile on his face grows.

But before he could do anything, Colette barged back into the room. “That's enough of that. I need to take care of the patient,” Colette whined, but it's clear she didn't give a damn about you.

“Really, Childe, you should probably leave her to rest,” She continues, “especially if she has anything planned for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you're not going anywhere when you have such a big day tomorrow.” Childe states, pulling the sheets over you.

“A big day?” You asked confused.

He looked over at you in concern. “Yes, you were the one that insisted on having a tea party tomorrow with all your friends and acquaintances.” He looked closely into your eyes to check for dilation. “Maybe you shouldn't host tomorrow. I know you'll say yes because you're just that stubborn, but are you sure you're okay?”

Tea Parties? Maybe that's what you needed. To see all of the Villainous' comrades. They had the Villainous back until her end, so it'd be good to bolster connections with them. In the meanwhile, Childe’s face was so close to yours, and the way he was looking deep into your eyes…

You quickly sputtered out. “Yeah, I mean, don't worry about it. I mean, I feel like I remember everything already. I was just overthinking my tea party…”

He looked like he didn't buy it, but he didn't question you. You can see Colette behind him looking furious. Thankfully, she wasn't one of your friends or acquaintances, so there’s a low chance you’d see her.

You felt it best to steer away from her and get yourself together. While the story didn't follow the path of the TV series, who knows what could happen? Maybe Childe and Colette will end up together. Maybe they won't. Maybe Childe will just kill Colette because she said uwu.

Not like you can really steer clear of Childe, though, when you live in the same manner.

–

Tomorrow had become today, and it was finally time for your tea party. You were a gracious host, setting everything to perfection, and just when everything seemed to be going fine, Colette had arrived as someone's plus one. Did tea parties even have plus ones? Well, regardless, she was here now, and it'd be totally rude if you kicked her out. You were tempted. But you were far too much of a good host to do so.

“Well, I mean, I'm just here so often that I'm pretty much a co-host if you think about it,” Colette told your friends. Only a couple really paid attention.

It makes sense when you think about it. A villainess's friends are equally as cunning as she is. And cunning friends wouldn't exactly listen to the heroine with or without her talking about how she owns the host party.

Unfortunately for her, it was clear that she lacked much grace from being never a part of any etiquette classes. It makes sense for the middle class, however, it gets talked about during high-end tea parties. Tis unfair.

You, surprisingly, were excellent at etiquette. The owner of this body has clearly practiced so much that, even with a different mind, it could still perform with absolute technique and grace.

Your friends were something else, though. A few of them were self-made merchants that have clawed through the grapevine to reach the very top. Others were from noble families, aspiring to marry rich to raise their bloodline or delve into literary education.

Overall, you enjoyed your time with them. Even if you did have to listen to Colette blab about something or other.

Halfway through your party, you saw your fiancé come through. “I hope you're hosting our guests properly, dear Mistress,” He said, taking a seat beside you.

You looked at him with surprise before replying, “Well, of course I did.”

He raised an eyebrow for a split second before masking his emotions. ‘Right, the original villainess didn't appreciate Childe interrupting her parties.’ You thought. It was so surprising that even your friends were taking note.

Before you could comment on him, you heard the sound of ceramics shattering. You looked over and saw Colette blowing on her finger with a teacup shattered on the ground. ''Owie!'' She exclaimed, showing Childe her finger. ''It hurts so bad, Childe!''

You couldn't help but notice it didn't even look red. “If it's that bad, Colette, wouldn't you be able to fix it? I mean, you are the doctor.” You stated.

Collect glared at you. “Please try to have a bit more sympathy for the hurt. I would expect the host of this party and especially the Mistress that Childe will marry to be a lot more kind and generous.”

Before you could say anything, Childe interrupted. “Absolutely not.”

Collette winced hard, pouting at Childe, “Oh, I'm sorry. I was just in so much pain that I just said-”

“I'll call a carriage for you. It's best you make your exit. Goodbye, Colette.” Childe said with a smile. But this smile didn't quite reach his eyes. And it was clear he wasn't as happy as he was pretending to be.

You could hear your friends whisper around you, making comments, that they weren't exactly shy to keep to themselves.

The way Colette's face twisted was honestly just kind of sad. She was annoying for the brief amount of time that you knew her. But something tells you that this won’t be the last time you’ll deal with her.

“Goodbye, Childe.”

She turned to walk out the gate, but before she left, she reared her ugly head and said, “I'll see you again soon,” before leaving.

You could hear Childe's exasperated sigh beside you. You felt something warm touch the top of your head before you realized that it was his hand grazing your hair. The way he looked at you, so soft and so playful and sweet.

Maybe being a mistress is in your cards after all.

–

The next couple of days went by pretty quickly. You were doing your best to rehabilitate. Or so you said. You just mainly decided to stay at home and bide your time. You didn't really know much about this world, so it's not the best idea to start prancing around town. Especially when there are probably people that you've terrorized there. And you know what they say about peasants in numbers.

The General's right-hand man, whom you have now discovered is named Charlie, was more than willing to help you out. Especially since actual-you was so much more open to hanging out with him than villainess-you. You shifted the scrolls in your hand so they weren't uncomfortable as you walked besides Charlie. His face was plastered with an apologetic expression for making you help him out, but you insisted it was no big deal.

“Oh, by the by,” he mentioned, “have you heard of the Open Ball? That'll be happening in the King's Palace next week.”

“Open Ball?” You said it confusedly. Sounds like ‘open bar’, but it most likely wasn’t going to be as good of a time.

“Ah, that means even select commoners are welcome to attend. For example, Colette's father and Colette were invited.” He said, shaking his head. It seems he didn't like her either.

“Yeesh.” You sound annoyed. “I still don't understand what her problem is.”

Charlie nodded alongside you. “Yeah, she's been sort of odd for as long as I've known her. Truth be told, the General's condition was terrible one night. So I rushed into town to find Colette's father, since he was well-renowned in this area. However, he was out of town at the moment, and Colette was all that was left. I brought her back in, and she managed to stabilize him. It did take a while and was a lengthy process, however, I'm simply thankful that my General's alright. Colette, on the other hand, acted like she brought back the dead. The General's very thankful for her. And that's why he allows her to visit his residence from time to time. However, it's clear he's rethinking that decision.”

“That's good. She's kind of... difficult.” You decide to choose your words carefully.

“Yeah, she is the worst.” He did not.

“But with you by his side, I'm sure all of his decisions must be going a lot smoother. Especially since…” He trailed off.

“Since?” You asked suspiciously.

“I mean, since your memory loss, you've been a lot more... different? Don't get me wrong, I do prefer you the way you are currently. But you’re so much more kind now! I feel like your equal and sincerely appreciate you.” He says, not looking at you. You could see his pink ears from a mile away though.

Oh, now you remember! Your friend wrote him an unnecessarily tragic backstory, and then didn't expand on it, so he's just a character that's been neglected his whole life. Except by the General, and now you. Congratulations, you're not a terrible person.

“Sounds like you're just happy you got someone to carry scrolls for you,” You said with a fake huff. He snorted loudly before covering his face in embarrassment, which caused you to start cackling in laughter.

“Hey, cut that out!!” He stammered embarrassed. But you kept laughing, rushing off to his quarters with him chasing after you.

–

You had made plans prior to go gown shopping to find something new to wear to the Open Ball. It did take place in the king's palace, so looking nice was definitely a priority. What you didn't expect was your dearest General tagging along.

“Naturally, I'd like to see what my fiancé would be wearing. Don't I get to see your beauty first?” He drawled.

And here he was. You thought maybe visiting a couple boutiques and having a few simple shopping sprees would have definitely sent him running for the hills. However, here he was, walking behind you, his arms full of bags.

You weren't opposed to his presence. But whenever you were around him, you just felt these butterflies in your stomach, and you felt a bit lightheaded, and oh my god, it's all his fault.

Finally, you got into the gown boutique. It was your last stop for the day. You were just so bewildered by the rest of town. After all, you haven't really been going anywhere since you got transported into this TV series world by probably Truck-kun.

You opened the door, the little bell making your heart warm. As you stepped in, when you saw... Ugh. Colette was there, looking at a couple dresses. She noticed you, but quickly scowled and looked away. She walked over to the other side of the boutique. Whatever, fine by you. At least she didn't see Childe.

You saw Childe saunter to the new arrivals. You followed him, not really used to such luxurious boutiques. He was always so well put together that you did trust his judgment.

An associate saw the two of you and immediately recognized the General and the Mistress. She rushed towards you, showing a couple high-end dresses. “Sire and Madam, might I interest you in these? They've been handcrafted by a renowned designer. They're completely one-of-a-kind, as your Mistress deserves the best.”

“What will you be wearing?” You demanded, turning to Childe.

“Oh, what does what I wear matter?” He asked with a teasing grin. His teeth could rip you apart.

You couldn't tell him that you wanted to match. That'd be so embarrassing. “No reason,” You looked away.

But as if he could read your mind, he pulled from the rack a deep royal purple dress. It was decked to the nines with little intricate designs. It would look perfect on you. “Since I'll be wearing black and purple to the vault, you should match with me.”

“You want to match with me?” You ask, the words coming out softer than you would prefer. However your words were true.

He touches your shoulder gently. His touch was warm and kind, much different than he normally portrayed himself. His eyes don’t look as empty as they do in the tv series.

“I think I should be asking you that.”

Your face burned and it wasn’t your expensive lotion. You could see Childe leaning forward, getting closer to your face. You closed your eyes when-

“Childe!!”

Oh, right. You forgot that Colette was also in the boutique. To be fair, she was very forgettable.

You jumped back, accidentally knocking back into the shelf behind you. Geez, does she ever have timing?

Alright, you just about had it with her antics. Colette came up to you, the two of you, practically prancing. As she smiles, such a fake smile. Was this a TV show perk of being the heroine? Because how could no one else see that she was the fakest person that's ever existed? She's more artificial than AI ever could be.

“Childe, I'm surprised to see you here.” She says with big eyes. “It's just that I thought you didn't like boutiques. I remember you telling me that most of the time, clothing didn't matter to you.”

Childe simply smiled, though it was as hollow as Colette. “They didn’t before.”

Colette laughed a little too hard and then turned to you, “Oh my, I didn’t know you liked the clothes from here!”

God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off her stupid-looking face. You managed to fake a small grin. “Oh yeah, I guess it's not really my usual style. But, Childe likes me in everything I wear, so...”

She hummed disinterestedly. Why even bring it up then? You turned to Childe and smiled reassuringly. “You go on ahead. I'll meet you when I come out.”

He looked between the two of you for a second. Your heart fluttered when you realized he was worried about you. You couldn’t help but ponder whether he’d consider assisting your shopping each time.

You nodded encouragingly, and that set the deal for him. Childe patted you on the head before heading to the door.

Turning to Colette, you crossed your arms. You couldn’t help but be amazed and disturbed by her audacity.

“Need Childe to leave before you can speak to me? Sounds like he cares way more about me than… other people.” She giggled, leaning against the rack beside her.

“Not at all. I can fight my own battles. I just don’t like people annoying my fiancé.” You looked at her through your lashes. “You know, other people.”

Colette walks past you and points at a pair of heels at the window. “Those. I want those.”

It took you a second to calm down when you realized she wasn’t talking to you. The poor attendant who was walking by timidly went to get the shoes. Right, villainesses in TV shows end up turning those around them meek of fear! …huh but Colette-

“Childe is kind, you know.” Colette doesn’t turn around, but she tilts her head to gaze at you.

Hold on, this is the villainess’ line at the end of her part in the show! But you weren’t the one saying it…

Colette continues, smirking widely at you, “He’s able to take in strays like you.”

You feel a weight being lifted off your shoulder, and you stand up straight.

“I suggest you run along now. It would be hard for you to handle this life, so I think you should go.”

By the time the attendant came back with Colette’s choice in high heels, she was smiling triumphantly. Pre-rejoicing her victory was she? “There, those chic heels will show you. I’ll give them to you if you leave. You must love used goods.”

You merely smiled back, “Oh hunny, those were in fashion last summer.”

You turned away, hearing her shriek in anger before taking Childe’s arm and heading out. You’d make sure to discuss banning Colette from your new favourite boutique. Maybe you were a villainess at heart.

You feet best about it when you get to hear Childe laugh.

–

Finally, the day of the Open Ball arrived.

Charlie helped you with your hair and makeup. Man was way too talented to be a real person. “How are you feeling?”

“Just like any girl going to an Open Ball,” You said, clutching your hands together, you couldn't shake off the nerves.

The TV show never really went into the King's Castle, despite a major event being there. Honestly missed opportunity, but you'll leave the criticism to the one-star reviews on Yelp. More importantly, the villainess had already been ousted before she got the opportunity to talk with the King. So you didn't know how he was going to react, and the thought of you messing up now, well…

“You’ll be wonderful.” Charlie said with a soft smile, “Just as wonderful as the General says you are.”

You blush bashfully. Even hearing his title makes you want to scream like a high schooler. This wasn't your first love, so why are you acting like this? You took a deep breath to calm the nerves and the fluttering in your heart.

You heard a knock on the door. “Well, is my beautiful fiancé all decked out just for me?”

You resisted the urge to giggle at his voice. “For you or for the king?” You could both banner and forth all day, then all night. He was just so comfortable.

“Now my dear, I think we both know who you're dressing up for.”

You checked yourself in the mirror one last time before opening the door. “Well, regardless, I'm ready now.” You nod happily.

Childe looked you up and down. “That purple gown looks radiant on you, my dear.”

You couldn't help but eye him yourself. “I think purple looks better on you.”

“Nonsense. That purple makes your smile look brighter.”

“No way! That purple makes your eyes look more dashing.”

“Charlie, what do you think?” Childe asks with his arm crossed and a pout. He looks so cute trying to be mad!

“I think,” Charlie shakes his head, “that you both will be late if you do not hurry up.”

“Oh, right!” You hurried your way down to the grande doors.

Childe walks behind you. Alas, your run was the equivalent of his long strides. Once you push open the doors, the cool air of the night envelops the both of you. It's best to get all the fresher you can now before the open ball suffocates you both.

Childe walked around and then in front of you. He held out his arm. “My dear,” He winks, “It's only the proper thing to do, of course. For my darling.”

You couldn't trust your voice, so your very shaking hand takes his arm and holds onto it tight. He was obviously very well-built, as he is a General, but still, actually touching him like this sent shivers down your spine.

“We'll be back late, so don't bother waiting up for us, Charlie.” Childe waved him off.

Charlie shook his head amused. “Wasn't planning on it. You have fun, my lady.”

You nodded your head. “I will. We'll see you.”And Childe led you into the carriage.

He helped you up and followed suit. Now you knew that Childe had much larger, much more luxurious carriages. It's not like this one wasn't. It was absolutely decked out with beautiful colors and charms. And the carriage itself looked very sturdy. However, the space in between the two seats for legroom wasn't much. Your knee was pressed right against Childe’s.

“I hope you're not too uncomfortable, my dear.” He grinned. Damn him, he totally did this on purpose!

–

The ride felt both too long and not long enough. After all, Childe had grazed your knee with his knuckles far too many times for it to be merely an accident. The carriage stopped right at the grand entrance, where the grandiose staircase lay before the even grander castle. How grand.

Childe opened the carriage and helped you out.

Every step up the stairs you both took together, your hands still firmly on his bicep. You both marched up with the dignity and grace of a King and Queen.

“Still nervous?” He pondered.

You both made it to the top and you turned to him. “Yes I am, but there’s something I want to do more.” This time you walked in front of him and gave him your hand. “Follow me.”

He held yours without hesitation.

“Introducing the General of the North and the Lady of the North!”

The gazes of everyone looking at you was both intense and exhilarating. Is this what villainesses saw? Whenever they made an entrance, music played and all eyes were on them while they waltzed in without a care in the world.

You both took the stairs down to the ballroom. “You know, my dear,” Childe starts, “I have to say I wasn't expecting this whole change of events. I mean losing your memory so suddenly. But the person you are now is truly a wondrous person. And it's you.”

You were happy that Childe was by your side during this. Or else you might have been so nervous as to trip down the stairs.

Though, now that he was using such flowery language…

You are certain. “Childe, my General, I want…”

“Introducing the daughter of a renowned doctor, Colette!”

Okay, renown your ass. You haven't even met the guy yet. The plot really was all wishy-washy with this character.

Secondly, Colette being here just put a damper on the whole thing. You knew that she would come, but still, it just takes away from the whole experience.

You caught the gazes of your friends from your tea party. They looked severely unhappy at Colette's presence. You couldn't really blame them, it's not like they liked Colette being at your tea party either. And they quite remember how... graceless she was, to put it mildly.

Collette came down the stairs on her own. She was trying really hard to be elegant, to glide across the stairs. But it ended up looking like she was part of a marching band and she was kicking her legs with every step, flailing like a goose.

At this point, it seems like the father has been completely written out of the story. You shake your head at this nonsense. Now this is something the budget should have considered when making the TV show.

When stepping onto the final step, she stomped a little too hard and the heel of her high heels chipped off. With a yelp, she tumbled to the floor.

The orchestra stopped playing, and a couple of the servants helped her stand up. With their help, she got up, wobbling.

You just looked at Childe. He had a hand over his mouth, and his eyes were dark. But since you were beside him, you could see the corners of his lips twitching uncontrollably. He discreetly leaned towards you, letting out a laugh he’d been holding. “Can't imagine her father would be too pleased with her behavior.”

Yeah, you don't know how some character that's non-existent to the plot would be pleased with her behavior.

The silence was so awkward as the orchestra shuffled to finish the current song. You could hear Colette saying something about how ‘this is so unlike her!’, but you had your hands over your eyes to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

“The King has an announcement to make!”

Up by the throne, there he stood. If you remember correctly, the King was the second male lead in the TV series. However, it left a lot to be desired since they didn't expand upon him much. However, he did well in the ratings, because they hired a hot guy to play him.

“I thank everyone for arriving today. May the dancing for this Open Ball commence.” He raised his arms, and the orchestra played with full force. They couldn’t afford to embarrass themselves in front of the King.

Everyone split up into pairs, before your eyes. But there was really only one person you wanted to dance with. With all your strength, you ask your fiancé, “Hey, would you like to…”

“Childe! I think we should have a dance first.” Colette came over and you wished she stayed fallen at the bottom of the staircase.

Childe didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to say anything. He simply supported your back with his hand and took you to the empty side of the ballroom. “My dear, care for dance?”

“Would I?” You replied with a smile, but it told him all he needed to know.

You were grateful the villainess knew how to dance. It practically came like second nature. While you swayed with Childe, you snuck a glance at Colette.

There she was in the middle of the ballroom completely alone. It was so odd to see really because when is the heroine alone? Resignation took over her face, and she walked out, her broken heel unevenly clanking against the floor.

The song reached its climax, and Childe took you in for the dip. His face grazed gently over yours. You can feel yourself heating up. You wanted him so very badly. “So, my dear–” Childe held you tightly, “–no. My love.”

Your arms slowly slide up and wrap around the back of his neck. This world isn’t nearly as bad as you first thought. How could it be when he was here?

He leaned in, both your lips nearly touching.

“I hope you’re ready to spend your all by my side.”

You closed the distance.

Masterlist

Discord

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barmaidatthegarrison · 12 days ago

Text

Green Eyes and Gunpowder (1/?)

Thomas Shelby x OC (Emily Hughes)

Summary - Sharp-tongued, steady-handed, and raised beside the Shelbys like blood, Dr. Emily Hughes weaves through their war for Birmingham with a surgeon’s precision—offering comfort, challenge, and quiet resistance, especially to the man who’s forgetting how to be anything but a weapon.

Word Count - 1,630

Warnings - pre-relationship (for now), fluff, hurt/comfort, angst (it's Peaky my guys)

A/N - First ever Peaky fic? With an OC? Because I don't know how to write fics without giving the characters names it's just not in me. I wish it was.

This is basically a season 1 rewrite.

Chapter 1

The Garrison, not yet owned by the family, but she knew it would be one day. Those boys, her boys, when they loved something, they made it theirs. She could definitely attest to that.

She slipped through the door, not quietly, but given that it was a Friday night, definitely not loud enough to be noticed. She caught sight of a few Blinders among the crowds of regulars, but it was mostly townies. And movement in the snug. That was convenient.

Though for a moment she stood in the door and let the loudness and familiarity and sound of people that talked like her wash over her. She’d been gone only a few months, and it’d felt like a lifetime. How she managed during the war, she doesn’t know. Well, she does, and it’s best not to pry on that too much tonight.

There were also better questions to ask and answer, like who the blonde behind the bar staring at her was.

Grace didn’t recognize her. Sure, plenty of girls made their way through the Garrison most nights, of various motives, but this one didn’t strike her as a whore or a wife here to drag her husband home. Her clothes were modest, but of good quality, and though she was beautiful, she was not trying to upsell that beauty. She did not watch the unruly room as a predator or saleswoman, but with fondness, familiarity.

Her eyes locked on the newcomers, and Grace was struck by how very green they were. And she thought Tommy had stunning eyes. Purely from an observational perspective of course.

The woman made her way to the bar on light feet, pulling the hat off her head as she did so. Not a very ladylike gesture, Grace mused. A head of dark curls popped free as she did, a small smile playing on her face, but before either woman could speak, Harry appeared as if summoned to her side.

He paused mid-offload of his empty mugs and smiled at the newcomer.

“Emily! It’s a relief to see you back, if I may say so.”

The woman – Emily – smiled warmly, “Good to see you too, Harry. Relief though? I wouldn’t talk as if I make them any easier to deal with – we both know that isn’t true.” Her accent was pure Birmingham; she was local then.

Harry snorted, “You make them less on edge.” He turned to Grace then, “Whatever Emily wants is on the house.”

She remembered Harry’s warning, no more than a month ago since she came here and heard it: “If l say something's on the house, then say nothing to whoever you're serving. If they decide that they want you, then there's nothing anybody could do about it.”

But this woman, she didn’t seem dangerous – not the way Tommy or John or Arthur or, hell, even Polly did; it practically radiated off them. This woman was, if anything, disarming.

“Seems my boys are already here, so no need quite yet, Harry.” With that she offered Grace a smile and made a beeline for the snug in the corner, filled with the aforementioned dangerous group.

Shouts of her name echoed loudly from the corner room, Arthur swooping the smaller woman up in a hug, lifting her clean off her feet, and before the door closed, Grace caught sight of Tommy’s smile – the first she’d seen, and far softer than anything she would have thought him capable of.

“I take it I was missed then.” Emily joked, stealing the cigarette from Arthur’s hand. “Always good to see.”

Arthur draped an arm across the bench behind her, “You must be joking. You’re always missed, Em.”

“Here, here.” Polly agreed smiling easily. “Someone get the poor woman a drink.”

Tommy was already placing his own full glass in front of her. Birmingham may have been her home, but she never truly felt settled until she was with her family, until she could see with her own eyes that they were safe.

“Thanks, Tom.” She mumbled taking a deep drink, letting the tension start to ease from her shoulders. “God it’s good to be the fuck out of Galway. Place is a pit.”

“Still not sure why the fuck you went.” John injected.

“A friend called in a favour, simple as that. I’m a woman of my word.” With that she drained the rest of the glass, Tommy already refilling it for her.

“You know you could stand to be a little less reliable.” John muttered. “We need you here more than they do anyhow.”

Polly cuffed him on the back of the head for the comment, “Watch your mouth, John. There should be at least one stand up person in this family.”

While he rubbed the spot on the back of his head, Emily leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple. Then mussed up his hair, eliciting an indignant noise from him, a snort from Arthur, and a small smile from Tommy.

“Well, I’ve paid my dues, shouldn’t be leaving again. Now be a good lad and get us another glass.”

John rolled his eyes, but his mock annoyance couldn’t cover up how relieved they all were to be together again.

“Another glass, Grace.” John’s voice startled her from her own thoughts. He glanced back at the room he’d come from, “Another bottle of whiskey too.”

She didn’t hesitate to hand the items over, speaking as she did so before he disappeared. “I take it she’s from here?”

John blinked at her for a few seconds, as if completely lost as to who she could be referring to.

“Oh, you mean Em. Yeah, heh, good to have the whole family back together.” And with that he slipped away with his prizes back into the room.

Harry didn’t even try to hide a snort from where he was filling up four ales. “You could just ask, Grace. Don’t need to be so sneaky about it.”

“Who is she then, Harry?” Grace wasn’t a woman easily embarrassed but this was the closest she’d come since she got her.

“Dr. Emily Hughes. She grew up with the Shelby boys, before the war they worked double and triple time to put enough money together to send her to medical school – smart as a whip that one. Her last name may as well be Shelby for as much as she’s one of them, remember that.”

What little she could see of them laughing and joking and smoking through the partially cracked snug window, Grace could definitely believe it.

This might create a new opportunity.

“Who’s the new barmaid?” Emily asked, folding her cards, turning to Tommy. He folded his as well and lit another cigarette, offering her one which she accepted.

“Name’s Grace. Started a month ago. Says she’s from Galway, but then again, she also said she worked in a pub in Dublin I know doesn’t exist.”

Galway… she looked so familiar, but Emily couldn’t place her. And she had been here while Emily had been there so it’s not like they could have run into each other.

“She lying to save face or something else?”

Tommy sighed, leaning back into his chair a little. “Still trying to figure that out.”

She nodded, taking another drink. “Want me on it?”

“You always were better at getting people to trust you.”

That wasn’t true. Before the war, Tommy used to laugh, used to be so much warmer and more open. So much had changed. But now wasn’t the time to say that. Now it was time to get dealt back in and take the boys’ money.

Another thing that had changed.

As the clock ticked to 1 in the morning, Emily gasped awake, shooting up, wild eyes scanning the room. Alone. No one was here. She was in Birmingham.

She was safe.

Her heartbeat in her ears was near deafening and the hand she held up was trembling too hard to stop. It took about twenty minutes of deep breaths to get her own body to start listening to her again. Desperately she grasped onto the here and now, pushing the thoughts of screaming men and boys, violent hands and blood-soaked beds, and the taste of her own terror away.

The knock at the door wasn’t exactly unexpected, but not something she had been willing to count on.

“Come in.” She breathed, loud enough to be heard, but not to carry further than the ears it was intended for.

The door opened and closed quickly, Tommy’s pale face and anxious blue eyes met her green ones. Wordlessly, she scooted further in towards the wall, lifting up the sheet. Tommy knew his cue well and slid in beside her.

He tucked his head under her chin, and she buried her face in his hair. He smelled like whiskey and tobacco and sweat, smelled like Tommy, and the last of her dream-based fear fell away.

He clung to her like he was afraid she was going to disappear if he let go, but neither said a word. This was something that started accidentally after the war, when they both realised they couldn’t sleep without nightmares. The shared comfort, the familiarity, the lack of judgement.

Tommy told her it was the only time he didn’t hear German shovels and pickaxes through his wall, Emily said it was the only time the screams of the dying stopped. It was also the only time she didn’t feel those men’s fucking hands– no. No not every memory needed to be acknowledged.

They would both eventually fall asleep then wake early enough for Tommy to slip back to his bed, finally rested and well. Neither would say a word about it, but they would share a smile over breakfast and that would be enough.

#Thomas Shelby x OC #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x imagine #tommy shelby imagine #Green Eyes and Gunpowder #JJ writes

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reignseclipse · 4 months ago

Text

Take it off

Inspired by this anon. I'm not a writer I'm just a gif maker so if this sucks I'm sorry.

Roman reigns x y/n

Warnings: smut

Not really sure who to tag🤷🏻‍♀️

_______

Being the 4th member of the shield, y/n was always kind of the odd one out. The guys had always shared a locker room and did pretty much everything together. Y/n had a locker room to herself and while at times it had it perks, she hated being alone in a vulnerable state.

She talked to Seth and asked if she could use their shower because she was afraid of showering alone in the girls locker room. At first Seth was hesitant, for obvious reasons. Roman though told Seth it shouldn't be a problem. His friendly attitude towards y/n hadn't gone unnoticed by Seth and Dean. Y/n shrugged it off thinking he was just being nice.

After smackdown one night y/n came in the locker room to shower after a match. The hot water had relaxed her aching muscles, soothing where the massage gun couldn't. She heard the familiar sound of the metal curtain holders sliding across the bar, realizing that one of the guys must be in here to.

She finished her shower and stepped out, thinking whoever was in here must be dressed by now since it'd been a good 10 minutes since she started her shower. She wrapped the towel around her hair after ringing it out and wrapped a towel around herself before flinging the shower curtain open.

"well it's about damn time!" Roman said, startling y/n.

"Roman!" Y/n gasped, putting her hand to her chest "you scared me"

Roman smiled a mischievous smirk, his hair cascading down his shoulders. Y/n suddenly realized that Roman was only in a towel. His chest still had water beads dripping down it. Y/n stepped back for a moment, the best between her legs pooling at the sight of Roman barely covered.

"like what you see baby?" Romans cocky demener was much different from the shy, laid back person she had talked to only hours before. It excited her, but she wasn't gonna let him know that.

Y/n rolled her eyes pushing past Roman, heading to grab her clothes. If she had to get dressed in the shower she would, but she wasn't going to give Roman the satisfaction of seeing her naked, not yet at least.

"I've seen the way you look at me y/n, don't play coy now." Roman chuckled. Y/n had to give it to him, he was very observant. She thought he was the sexiest man in the locker room. He was nice to everybody but he never hit in any of the women. He was always quite respectful, so what was different about her?

"is that what you tell all the women in the locker room?" Y/n asked with a scoff. Her irritation evident in her voice.

"I've never encountered the other women in nothing but a towel before." He smiled, that warm, soothing smile that y/n loved so much. He always had a way of relaxing her without trying. Y/n's body started to relax. It was a rather awkward situation for both of them and he was quite pleasing on the eyes himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to showering with other people around." She smiled.

Y/n felt a sudden urge to pull the towel off romans waist, she wanted to see what was underneath. Roman seemed to notice where her eyes kept going to, yet she was afraid to make a move. A cocky smirk formed on his face. Y/n realized she'd been caught. The towel on her head was falling from her not wrapping it properly, akin to how her insides were falling apart at the idea of Roman pounding her into the shower wall. She turned around sharply, deciding to turn around and grab her stuff to go back to her locker room. Roman grabbed her wrist before she could move "your eyes tell me what your words won't."

His smile grew even more cocky when y/n but her lip, forcing herself to stay composed. Her stoicism impressed him, most women would have stripped themselves down naked for him by now.

Pulling her to him, he gently pulled the towel off her, letting it fall to the floor before removing his own. Y/n's mouth watered at the sight before her. His chizzled frame still dripped with beads of water that trailed down his body, to the line of his waist. Her eyes trailed down him like a panther ready to pounce on its prey "like what you see baby?" Roman's words pulled her back to reality.

Y/n swallowed hard, her resolve fading away by the minute. Roman walked towards her, closing the distance between them. Raising his hand to gentle rest in her face, he pulled towards him, crashing his lips to hers. In that moment the last of y/n's stoicism vanished. Whatever the man before her wanted she would give to him.

Roman lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, carrying her to the couch that sat near the back of the locker room. Seth and Dean were already gone for the night. They probably knew he was with y/n, not realizing tonight he was gonna make her his.

He set her down by the edge of the couch, spinning her around and bending her over. Her squeal of delight earned a swift smack on her ass. Roman lowered his hand between her legs, feeling the warmth that radiated from her with his long fingers, before rubbing circles on her swollen clit "is this all for me baby girl?" He asked, a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/n wasn't gonna give him what he wanted so easily. As much as she wanted him to absolutely ruin her, she wasn't going to feed his ego. She stayed quiet, feeling Roman slowly snake his hand into her hair before sharply pulling her head back "I asked you a question. Is this pussy that wet because of me?" He said, more stern this time. Y/n couldn't help but smile "yes." She said, wiggling her ass.

"yes what?" Roman growled.

"yes sir." Y/n said, biting her lip.

Roman let out a deep chuckle, amused at how easy it was to make y/n give into him "what do you want baby? You want me to fuck this pussy? Spoil you so no other man will ever be good enough for you?" Roman's voice had a hint of arrogance, something that y/n hated in other men, yet strangely something she wanted Roman to keep doing.

"yes sir! Please ruin me!" Y/n groaned, her body not caring anymore, she'd finally had enough of his teasing. She only wanted to be filled by him.

Roman stood behind her, sliding his thick xock through her folds, before slowly sliding inside. A sharp gasp escaped both of them "fuck!"

Y/n's body felt whole for the first time, like he was piece that had always been missing from her. Roman grabbed her hips, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. Y/n's groans soon joined the sound of skin slapping.

"fuck! This pussy is so fucking wet, so fucking warm!" Roman groaned, his head falling back in pleasure.

Y/n began matching his rhythm, bouncing her hips back against him each time he thrust into her. A song of pleasure echoed throughout the room, filling the once quiet area with the sounds of ecstasy.

Y/n's body began to tense, her pussy clenching around Romans throbbing length, her cries of pleasure we're music to his ears.

"fuck! I'm so close! Just like that!" Y/n's moans and groans seemed to drive him on, her matching his rhythm slowed the closer she got to exploding. His grip on her hips tightened, his thrusts desperate to make both her and himself explode.

Y/n dug her nails into the couch, her pussy throbbed and pulsated around Roman's swollen cock, ready to make him fill her.

"fuck! Baby the way that pussy grips my cock like it's trying to suck it in!" Roman groaned as his body finally released all it's tension. His orgasm filling y/n to the brim. His swollen cock pulsated inside her spilling his seed into her hot pussy.

Y/n collapsed onto the couch, completely spent and utterly satisfied. Roman slowly pulled out of her, lifting her up in his arms. He carried her to the couch, stopping only to grab a blanket that he kept in his suitcase.

He laid down on the couch with her still in his arms, kissing her forehead softly. Covering them both up with his blanket, he stroked her hair, ear ing soft moans of content from her. Her eyes fluttering closed.

"good night y/n"

#roman reigns #roman reigns smut #wwe #wwe smackdown #the tribal chief #otc #fanfic #fan fic writing

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dia-oro · 5 months ago

Note

Imagine referring to The Chain as your 'wifes'

And they would carry proud that tittle! You all just have to do is love them and be there for them in their moments that old ghost visit their minds, because what better than be love by someone that will stay in the down as in their up? time was raise by the forest spirit child’s, do you think this man know what the difference from wife to husband? He will take it at stride being your dear wife and your rock to stay ground when you feel like falling apart by just the most gentle breezed. Also he come with a bonus, because how no to love malon? She now call you both her precious wife’s. (And you been your knees at malon supremacy) if wars try to correct you just put ‘male’ in from of the wife and he done for, he will even Pratt that he your male wife, heck he will be competitive with sky and twilight for seeing how more male wife material of the three of them (only if poly chain) of no well, he still will talk about you to every-fucking-one even with the help of wind he will have photos of you and will show it at times and call himself a lucky man (sorry Lana, the best person win him) and Zelda and impa are just ‘good for him’ aplaude his dedication, now wars attention to the conference!. blame wars that now he ‘male wife’ but for you twilight will just smile and let you call him wifey, just let the wifey one for private moments between the two of you. Need a hug but can’t say it? Your wife twilight will be at your side as wolfy confronting in silence you as you always did in the twilight hours.

legend, legend legend… he will snark, he will give these roll of eyes like is his job, but the moment he think somebody is messing with you? Someone made you cry? Hurt you feelings? He will proclaim very loudly that he your wife and that whoever did make you even let a little tear will know these boots are no only to got faster, they kick ass good to.

I hope you know that sky just like time come with a bonus, what does is feel that when you say it the first think he did is write Zelda because finally happened! You admit you’re theirs (well, you call him wifey! That counts right?) because he have been talking to his girl very serious of these feeling at Zelda at the moment she see you she know you’re their, call it Hylia, destiny or just you’re so special to her and to her beloved that must be that you’re make for them! Congrats, your human blood is probably still in some hero’s and they survive so much shite because of it, don’t think to deep of it or that some Zelda’s did have your blood no only the goddess in their body. four… if you see him freeze for like 15 minutes is like no because you did wrong but because the colors are going rampant, blue never will admit it but he very fluttered by it, vio may say ‘but I’m a man’ but do you think he really mind?? You better be prepare for him planing the pretties ring just for you, green is trying to control red, red is gone gone like for a fucking second you can be sure they lost him, but now he okay and planning the wedding even he was trying to convince vio and blue of they using a dress for making it the whole wife thing more official. do you understand you just call a Fae your wife right? Half or not, you’re now spouses in his mind, there’s no going back so live a happy ever after with your man, now you have in all Eras many sisters in law, he will try his best to make his world the best for you, he will there to help his Zelda to make the world you live and breathe one that one day world living.

My dear, wild, well, wild is doing a flip in the air giving twilight a heart attack right now, do you think he even know what gender mean? Do you see some of the clothes he use?? All he know is now he your wife and will make sure no blood moon , nail polish or even ganon follower ruined your day, he wild take you to ride his best Horse, present you to the lord of the mountain, give you his best food to make, best piece, you’re now his dear spouse in his mind, now yes he didn’t even remember how someone marry so he pretty sure you just call your beloved either ‘husband’ or ‘wife’ and done, you can’t unmake this dear.

#linked universe #link #link x reader #linked universe x reader #can be normal link can be yandere link but are dorks #But they will take it as your confession so congrats #linkeduniverse #yandere link #if you want #and remember! Sky and time always come bonus of a 2 x 1 because you cannot have them without their beloves #Now you’re Zelda and malon wifey double congrats

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nburkhardt · 1 year ago

Text

Mainly for my love, @strangersteddierthings ily

An overly sappy and fluffy follow up to this angst piece

“-Christ, I’m coming!”

It’s- Jesus Christ, only eight in the morning on a goddamn Saturday and someone decided to call him now? He roughly picks the phone up, “whoever the fuck this is, you better have a goddamn good reason to be calling!”

“Well, I’m sorry. It’s even earlier for me, nerd” Robin’s voice comes through, and now he’s confused.

If anyone should still be asleep, it should be her. Since she’s ya know, in California, in a different timezone. It’s- “why the fuck are you awake at five? Aren’t you on vacation?”

He can hear the eye roll Robin does, but it’s only fair. She woke him up, she gets to deal with a little bit of bitchy Eddie.

“I am, doesn’t matter. What are your plans again for Christmas?”

Tilting his head, squinting his eyes, he blinks hard before rubbing a hand down his face. “Buckley. You did not fucking just ask me what my plans are. The hell? You’re not even here! Why?”

Robin groans, obnoxious and long. Then a huff, and after that he hears tapping and he can imagine she’s bumping the phone against her head and straighten up with a glare on her face. He gets the look a lot from her to see it clearly.

“Edward Munson. I need to know what your Christmas plans are for very good reasons. Actually, what are you doing for that whole weekend? I need a favor and you’re going to do it, because it’s very very important. So important that if you do not do this and I find out, you will be a dead man and wish the demobats were after you.” She takes a deep breath, “do you understand?”

It must be, if she’s bringing up violence this early.

“Okay, geez I’ll bite. My plans for Christmas is just hanging around with Wayne, we usually just hang around watching Christmas movies and eat together. I got nothing planned the weekend, all of ya and my band are busy with family and shit.” He leaned against the fridge, closing his eyes and hoping whatever Robin is thinking doesn’t involve much.

“You need to kidnap Steve.”

He opened his eyes quick to widen them, straightening up and looking around for his keys. “Can I keep him then?”

Robin groans and he smiles, “if I’m kidnapping Stevie, I get to keep him. Finders keepers, Buck!”

“If you can only promise to love him and care for him.”

“Always, Robin. My Honeylove deserves it and so much more, he doesn’t even know how much,” he sighs, “I’ve agreed, now can you explain why?”

He’s met with silence and he looks at the phone wondering weather it’s not working or Robin hung up; already satisfied with him agreeing. Which would be fucking rude of her.

As he brings the phone back, he hears her sigh and- “i know my platonic soulmate and he doesn’t think I’ve noticed him being withdrawn or sad. He’s determined to make me go grey by suffering in silence, and he doesn’t believe how much I care or how much you care. So, he’s alone, like right now.” She sniffles and he can imagine she’s gripping her hair while also leaning up against whatever wall or surface, “SO, I would appreciate you for the rest of my life, if you help me and make him very, so very happy. Please.”

Taking a step out of his van, Eddie shifts his weight as he looks at the single flower he managed to pluck from his neighbors bush, it’s probably cheesy and maybe a little much but he couldn’t help himself.

Picking it up, he quickly slams his door before marching his way to Steve’s front door and stands straight. Taking a breath before moving his arm behind his back, knocking on the door with the other.

It’s been a few days since Robin’s call and his plan couldn’t take any shape until this morning. Wayne had noticed he was off the rest of that day and a complete word-for-word retelling happened and he ended with Wayne telling him, “Jesus kid, ya didn’t need to ask. That boy of yours is welcomed here”

And that was that.

He holds his fist up again as the door swings open and he’s met with an adorable sight, Steve wearing his glasses a little askew and his favorite yellow sweater along with some plaid sweats.

“Eddie?”

Smiling, Eddie pulls the flower out and brings it in front of their faces. Twirling the flower around before lightly bumping it on Steve’s nose, “My dear, Stevie Honeylove Harrington, I am here on this lovely December twenty third to officially kidnap you.” He watched as Steve pulls the door open more looking even more confused, it makes him smile at him.

“Eds, what the hell? Please don’t tell me you’re high right now?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie shakes his head. “I am very sober, and come on, get things together. You’re coming home with me”

They move into the kitchen and Steve looked at him before shaking his head.

“Can my kidnapper explain one more time, because he deserves to know why he’s being kidnapped- two days before Christmas” Steve asks and grabs the flower from him, putting it in a cup before leaning up against the counter to look at him.

He doesn’t bother sitting anywhere, instead comes right up to Steve and tapping his temple. “Because, my heart, you selfless dummy. You will be spending the rest of this holiday, with me and Wayne.”

Steve’s eyes widen, before darting around to avoid looking at him. It pulls a frown on Eddie’s face and he steps back just a bit, just to let Steve avoid his gaze more. He knows when it’s necessary to give more space, especially this lovely boy.

“I don’t want to impose on you both, I’m fine here. My parents called and said they’ll be her-”

“Nuh uh. Nope, I will not accept that. Even if they were coming, I’d still be kidnapping you, sweet boy.” He interrupts, crossing his arms and glances around the room before settling his eyes back on the important thing, Steve.

Steve who is still looking anywhere but at him, his own arms crossed but looking much more like he’s hugging himself, his fingers drumming along his arm.

“Sweetheart, Steve, I would truly and utterly love if you come along with me to your first official Munson Christmas.”

A smile pulling at his lips, as the words process in Steve’s head. A light blush is slowly creeping up. It makes his own cheeks start to burn, his own blush coming up from seeing Steve looking soft and confused.

Eddie moves closer to him again, arms no longer crossed and instead coming up around Steve. Enjoying how he instantly shifts to wrap his arms around Eddie, it makes his heart happy.

“Yeah okay, Teddy. I’ll go”

It’s the smell of bacon that makes him stir and the light sound of Christmas music playing.

Steve blinks a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, his vision getting as clear as they can without his glasses. Along with that his other senses also kicks up and he can feel the weight of an arm around his waist and legs tangled with his.

He shifts just enough to see Eddie behind him, face still relaxed as he lightly snores. Clearly still asleep. It’s only then that he relaxes back down and looking away with a blush and tiny smile.

For once happy to wake up on Christmas morning in years.

“Merry Christmas, Love” Eddie’s arm tightens around his waist as he spoke, pulling him closer.

His face completely breaking out into a smile now. “Yeah?”

Eddie hums and squeezes his waist again, “yeah course, it’s Christmas”

Steve shakes his head, “no, well, yeah it’s Christmas but um, the love thing.” He squeezes his eyes shut and mentally counts to five before turning around to face Eddie, “are you serious? Because I’m, um, starting to think that you’re-”

There’s a smile tugging on Eddie’s lips and he moves his arms to settle back snug around Steve, “In love with you? Yeah, Honeylove. I am, I love you Steve and I would be the happiest man alive if you let me keep you”

Steve’s eyes are watering as he nods and breaks into a breathless laugh, the words bouncing around in his head over and over.

“Yeah, yeah. Please. I love you too”

It brings a bright smile to Eddie’s face that Steve matches, Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and promises that they’ll share their first kiss once they lose the morning breath and Steve holds him to it.

They’ll get up, brush their teeth and share a soft kiss before walking out to see Wayne busy finishing off some pancakes. They’ll wish him a merry Christmas, enjoy their breakfast together before settling in the living room to watch Christmas movies and unwrap the presents under the tree.

There’s not much; only a few gifts for each of them.

Steve doesn’t even pay much attention to his, he’s really truly happy because his favorite present is currently sitting on the floor in a Santa hat obnoxiously shaking a gift next to his head with a big smile on his face.

It’s the best Christmas he’s had in a long time.

One of my all time favorite tropes is “they’re not dating” and guess what, they weren’t dating at all in this until Christmas 🥰 Eddie was very obviously in love with Steve from the start though, Steve was just a little slow on catching the very point-blank flirting :D

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this sappy piece and it made up for the angst I put you through in the first part. ☺️

Those who also asked/commented: @goodolefashionedloverboi @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @vampirestevie @steviesummer

Permanent Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #wayne munson #stranger things #fic #nburkhardt writes #casual possessive Eddie Munson #lol he was calling Steve his from the start and Steve never caught on #Steve gets more than a hug #he gets a BOYFRIEND AND KISSES

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therealcocoshady · 10 months ago

Text

Love Game

Author’s Note : shoutout to @shady-577 for texting me the idea for this 👀. Y’all think I’m the Angst queen ? You haven’t met this amazing human being 😂.

TW : ANGST

Marshall raised an eyebrow when he walked in Denaun’s place and noticed shopping bags everywhere. He knew his friends liked clothing but the quantity was over the top. The whole living room was filled with tons of new clothes, with items from various designers’ most recent collections.

- New wardrobe ? He asked.

- Yeah, I figured I could use an update, his friend shrugged. Apparently, I should try wearing things that are more fitted.

- Who said that ? He chuckled. Did you hire a stylist too ?

- I’m just trying to keep up, man, Denaun said evasively. Not everyone wears the same sweatpants and Lions apparel, you know. Maybe it wouldn’t kill you to make an effort either…

- I’m fine, thanks, he chortled. Seriously, though, what’s that for ?

He started looking at the items his friend had bought and noticed it wasn’t only clothes. He spotted bags from various stores, containing expensive candles and even skincare. That’s the it hit him : there was a lady. And like the asshole he very much was, he was not about to lose an opportunity to make fun of his best friend.

- I know your fifties are just around the corner but… skincare ? He asked with a smirk.

- I need to moisturize, Denaun replied. My skin’s a little dry.

- And the candles ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. Just admit it ! You’re seeing someone !

His friend gave him an annoyed look and sighed, not denying anything. It made sense. As refined as Denaun could be, he was not the type to invest in $90 candles that smelled like peonies. His friend had not really been in luck with the ladies, in the past years, and he was happy he finally found someone. He was a great guy and he deserved some happiness.

- What’s her name ? He asked.

- Shut up, Denaun replied in embarrassment.

- She hot ? He asked with a smirk. Slutty ?

- Man, don’t talk about her like that ! His friend snapped.

- I was just asking, he said in his own defense.

Damn. If he was getting defensive, it must mean he really liked that girl. Whoever she was, he just hoped she was worth it. Denaun was a sweet guy but he had a knack for only attracting the wrong girls, the ones who ended up playing him. He also knew he was to blame, in a way : he couldn’t count the times when women dates his friends in hope to get closer to him. He had always tried to make his friends benefit from his status but, when it came to the ladies, it wasn’t too easy and a lot of them were only interested because of the money or the fact that they could meet Eminem, without really caring about the guys they were dating. Before he could say anything more, they heard the doorbell and, minutes later, you were walking in, carrying bags of freshly baked cupcakes, both sweet and salty.

- Hi boys, you said before giving both of them a peck on the cheek. Where are the others ?

- Running late, Denaun said. Let me help you with that.

He grabbed the bags of cupcakes and went to put them in the kitchen, while you babbled to him about the flavors. You were so cute, thinking about everyone and what they liked. You had memorized everyone’s favorites so that you could make them. You had walked into their life a couple of months ago and the whole group agreed that you were the sweetest thing on earth. With your fluttery eyelashes and warm smile, you managed to turn these Detroit rappers into gentlemen and, whether it was Bizarre, Swift, Kuniva, Denaun or Marshall, they were at your beck and call. You had them wrapped around your finger, especially when you wore your flowy sundresses. Marshall was partial to your white one. The last time he had seen it, it was in a ball, on the floor of your bedroom, while he was fucking you senseless. Ironically, it was the night you wore this innocent little number that he had discovered what a freak you could be, happy that he had finally given in on the attraction. Your chemistry was off the charts and, looking back, he was surprised either of you had waited that long before sealing the deal. He kept on looking at you while you were talking to Denaun, remembering the view he had when he fucked you from behind and you were begging him to go harder. The memory almost gave him a boner and he wondered if you wearing the white dress was intentional, debating whether or not it should happen again. On the one hand, the sex had been so great only a fool would turn down the opportunity for more but, on the other, he didn’t want to make things complicated. The two of you were friends and you fit right within the group. If he slept with you again, you might get the wrong idea, catch feelings, and it would ruin the whole thing. The others wouldn’t forgive him either : they were all protective of you and they loved having you around, enjoying your sarcastic comments, terrific cooking skills and encouragements. He didn’t want to hurt you. Even though you weren’t nearly as innocent as the others imagined you were, you were a sweet little thing.

- I need to go and put these away, Denaun said as he gestured to the bags.

- You went shopping ? You asked.

- I think he’s got someone to impress, Marshall couldn’t help but grin.

- You mentioned something about fits and neutral colors, Denaun said as he royally ignored Marshall.

- Glad to know you take my advice, you giggled. Wait… is that the Dyptique candle I mentioned ?

- Figured it wouldn’t hurt to try a new smell for the house, he shrugged nervously. You were right. Peonies is a nice scent.

You giggled and pecked him on the cheek, happy to notice he was taking your advice. Marshall quietly stared as you brushed Denaun’s shoulder, mentioning something about his biceps being bigger. You being all touchy-feely wasn’t surprising, you were like that with everyone, but his friend was looking all flustered. That’s when he realized what should have been obvious : you were the girl Denaun was doing all of this for. Of all people in the group, the two of them were the guys you were closest with but he had never interpreted your friendship with Denaun to be more than that. He wasn’t too sure of how he felt about it, though. Did you hook up with him too ? Did he mistake some slutty behavior for some off the charts chemistry ? He frowned and kept to himself the whole afternoon, even when the others joined. He didn’t talk and, instead, paid attention to your every move. You were the flirty type, for sure. Always had been. But it was painfully obvious that Denaun was under your spell, making sure to make room for you on the couch, fluffing the pillow on your side, making sure you always had a glass in your hand. The worst part was that you didn’t even seem to realize it. How could you though ? You were used to all of them giving you the princess treatment all the time. It was like some magic power you had : whenever you walked into a room, you managed to turn gangsters into southern gentlemen. You did it gracefully, effortlessly, pecking their cheek, giving them nicknames and batting your eyelashes. Even himself was guilty of giving you a special treatment, falling victim to your « Hi handsome », spoken in your sultry voice that could draw anyone in. He was always soft with you. Everyone was. They were all whipped. You had often joked about not needing a boyfriend or husband because your rapper friends kept you happy, but now that it was obvious that Denaun had feelings, it was sad. The worst part about it is that he was protective, urging the others to put some respect on your name whenever they made some joke. His friend was a great guy, who obviously only had the best intentions, unlike himself whose actions towards you were more so driven by lust and desire. When everyone went home, he decided to confront Denaun.

- So… Y/N, huh ? He asked as he scratched his throat.

- Is it that obvious ? Denaun asked with a worried look on his face.

- I don’t know, he shrugged. Have you guys fucked around ?

- No, no, his friend assured him. She’s not like that. She’s a lady.

If only he knew the lady he was mentioning had been on her knees, weeks ago, begging for him to choke her. It was almost painful, at this point. If he had known of his friend’s feelings, he never would have given in on the attraction.

- Does she know ? He questioned. That you like her ?

- No, his friend sighed. I wanted to ask her out but… when she mentioned she wasn’t looking for anyone, I didn’t dare. Plus, I wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship.

- You really care, huh ?

- Man, I don’t want to sound corny or whatever but… I think I’m in love with her, his hype man confessed.

- In love ?! With Y/N ?! He almost gasped.

- Man, have you seen her ? Denaun asked. She’s so beautiful. And so nice to us. And for once, there’s a woman who sees us, praises us as emcees. She’s always hyping me up, I can talk to her about my own projects. Finally, there’s a woman who doesn’t only sees me as your hype man. No offense, bro. Love the job but… you know. Most of the time, you’re Eminem and we’re chopped liver. Y/N, she’s not like that. She treats us all the same.

He hummed and looked away, hoping he would be able to have a neutral expression. The last thing he needed was to crush his friend’s heart and tell him that, though you did treat them all the same most of the time, he had painted your walls white, weeks ago, and made you cry tears of pleasure, abusing each and every one of your walls, doing some nasty shit to you.

- I’ll tell her, eventually, he shrugged.

- About your feelings, you mean ? He asked.

- Yeah. I want to treat her right, give her what she deserves, his friend said with a smile. I’ve never met a girl like her. She’s special.

- That, she is, he agreed.

Marshall liked you. He liked you a lot. You always brightened his day, laughing at his stupid jokes, keeping him fed and down to earth, with your cooking and humor. You also kept him humble. There was nothing not to like about you, lovely person that you were and, in hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that Denaun had fallen for you. And his friend was right : you did deserve the world, as well as a man who was willing to give it to you. Only he knew he couldn’t be that man. He didn’t want to, either. As great as you were, dating wasn’t in the cards and he knew it. He would have gladly enjoyed you as a friend with benefits but he couldn’t do that to Denaun. Not when his feelings were so sweet, so noble.

That night, for the first time, he didn’t reply right away when you texted him and he even found some lame excuse not to see you, when you asked if he wanted to come by your place. There was no way he could keep on fucking you and, with the chemistry the two of you shared, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle himself if he was alone with you. There was something terribly intoxicating about your pheromones and, whenever he was in your presence, he couldn’t see straight, only being able to focus on you, anything you did and said. You tried reaching out to him regularly but ended up giving up. The two of you crossed paths a couple of weeks later, when Denaun invited you to listen to some beats he’d made in his hope studio. When you walked in, everyone greeted you with a hug, as usual, except for Marshall, who was rather cold. You were extremely hurt that he would give you the cold shoulder, this behavior being so unlike him. So far, he had always been extremely warm towards you but now, you could feel him take a step back and it broke your heart. He ignored you for most of the day, even though you regularly glanced at him. He was acting normal with the others and you were the only one he was different with. When he went to the kitchen to grab a drink in the fridge, you followed him.

- Marshall ? You asked nervously.

- Mmmh ? He asked without so much as looking at you.

- Ahem… can we talk ?

- I should go back to the others, he replied coldly.

- Marsh, it’s sort of important, you pressed him. Can we go outside ?

- What is it ? He sighed.

- We need to talk about… you know… us, you babbled. I mean, what happened…

- There’s no us, he said immediately. Nothing happened.

- Are you serious ? You asked in disbelief.

- Just because I fucked you doesn’t mean there’s anything between us, Y/N, he said coldly. You don’t mean anything, alright ?!

You bit your lip, visibly flushed with embarrassment and overcome with sadness. Marshall stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Your face was crumbling but his was steady, unmoved. His gaze was cold, devoid of emotion. You scoffed and mumbled an « ok then » before turning and meeting Denaun’s gaze. He looked visibly hurt.

- I was coming to get you guys but, obviously, you have your own stuff, he said in a sad voice.

- Shit, bro, it-its not-, Marshall began.

- I don’t want to talk to you, man, Denaun replied.

You were about to say something, at least try and mumble an apology but, before you could get any word out of your mouth, you started feeling dizzy and nauseous. You ran to the nearest bathroom, tears in your eyes, holding your nonexistent stomach. So much for telling Marshall you wet pregnant, you guessed.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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feyhunter78 · 1 year ago

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Chapter Five - A tourney is held to celebrate Lord Stark's appointment to the small council, and your sworn sword is taking part.

Ch 6

The journey home from Winterfell was long, the journey there had been long, but now you were able to return to your chambers. To lay in your bed, to shed your fur lined cloaks and return to the light, airy fabrics you much preferred.

The Keep is a flurry of movement, arrangements for new small council members and meetings, noblemen switching out their sons and daughter within the Keep, new servants and merchants arriving.

You attend your lessons with Sansa now, she is slightly behind you, being younger, but she is a quick study. Myrcella enjoys having her in lessons as well, and the three of you quickly become close. The three of you spend time in the godswood, picnicking and gossiping, filling Sansa in on all the rumors that swirl around the Red Keep.

It is one such occasion that you first hear it. “I have heard tale that my Uncle Renley prefers the company of men.” Myrcella whispers as she passes a lemon cake to Sansa.

Sansa’s shocked expression makes you giggle. “Come now, Sansa, you must know there are men like that.”

“I have heard of such things but…” She trails off, taking a bite of her cake.

“It seems to be much more prevalent in Dorne, all manner of things are allowed there.” You take a sip of your tea, spotting Jon lingering on the edge of the godswood with Ghost, Theon lounging in the grass beside them.

“I pity whoever is to be married to him, how will she ever have children?” Myrcella laments, her golden tresses falling forward as she reaches for a blueberry scone.

“Why would that prevent her from having children?” Sansa asks, her eyes cast to the blanket you all sat upon.

“Because he will not…you know…” You lean forward, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Be able to get it up.”

The confusion is clear on her face, and you send a prayer to the Mother for forgiveness over the innocence you are about to ruin.

“A man’s…member must be erect in order for marital acts to be completed, he will not be able to spill his seed otherwise.” You continue feeling your face heat up. Your father had instructed a septa to give you a very frank talk about intercourse when you first bled, it was informative but jarring. Then you sought out some of the older maids to fill in the gaps of knowledge in a gentler way.

“So, if he is not attracted to his future wife, or women at all, it will not get erect?” Sansa asks, putting the pieces together in her mind.

“Which means no children.” Myrcella finishes Sansa’s thought for her.

Sansa wrinkles her nose, a gesture you are certain she picked up from you. “I cannot imagine.”

“Perhaps the marriage will be a strategic one?” You say, tearing some grass out and letting it blow away in the wind.

Lady raises her head and watches them go, then sets it back down in Sansa’s lap.

Sansa runs her fingers through Lady’s fur, mulling over your words. “I do not think I could marry for strategy; I want to marry for love.”

Myrcella rakes her teeth across her bottom lip. “I do not think I will have a choice.”

You rub your cousin’s back soothingly. “You do not know that.”

Sansa perks up. “Let us play a game, we shall describe our perfect husband and then see if it matches to any lords in the court.”

You smile, her childish innocence perfectly distracts Myrcella.

“I shall go first, then?” Myrcella says, thinking for a moment before beginning. “I would like someone my age or a little older, but not by much. Tall with dark hair and dark eyes, the exact opposite of my brothers. Intelligent, a good swordsman, gentle, and a good dancer. And if he had sisters or female cousins for me to befriend, I would like that as well. Oh, and am I terrible if I say I would wish him to be tan? I do so love the look of bronzed skin; it looks so warm.”

You nod at Sansa, who begins. “Someone my age as well, with light hair and emerald eyes, a golden prince who enjoys festivities and is noble like a great knight.”

You and Mycella share a look.

“Sansa it is supposed to be your perfect husband, not your potential betrothed.” You remind her, thanking the gods that Sansa and Joffrey’s betrothal had been delayed thanks to all the excitement when you left Winterfell. It seemed Lord Stark could not think of betrothing his daughter while Bran lay in a coma, so the matter had not been brought up in many weeks.

“Come now, Sansa, we will not tell Joffrey, speak from the heart.” Myrcella encourages, poking Sansa’s arm playfully.

“Joffrey is my perfect husband, but if I must give a different answer…” She trails off, and you can see her eyes flickering to Theon unconsciously. “Perhaps a little older, tall, and strong, but not too broad like The Hound, with light eyes and hair that looks as if it has been tousled by the sea, someone who can make me laugh, and is loyal to those he cares for.”

“That sounds like a very good man.” You say, drawing Sansa’s attention away from Theon.

“Yes, well, Joffrey is many of those things. Now y/n, it is your turn.”

“I agree with you both, no old men, someone strong, a good swordsman, but I must side with Mycrella on looks, I would like a dark-haired man as well, with dark eyes and a gentle soul. Perhaps someone loyal and well-read? And I would like to be friends with my husband, as well as be his wife.”

“It would be nice to be friends with your husband, so many women are simply wives or mothers or broodmares.” Myrcella says, tearing her scone into tiny pieces. “I pity whoever Joffrey marries.”

“Prince Joffrey is a good man; I am sure he will be a wonderful companion to his wife.” Sansa sniffs.

You purse your lips. Your father said you are not to interfere, to let Sansa realize Joffrey’s true nature on her own, but it is difficult.

“House Beesbury has many men like you described, Sansa, perhaps we should look for them during the next feast.” Myrcella says, brushing her hands off on her skirts.

“House Beesbury is a good house, or House Royce, both I believe will be sending knights for the Tourney of the Hand.” You add.

Now it is your turn to clutch Sansa’s hand as Jon faces off against Thoros of Myr. You knew the Red Priest would not hurt him, it was Jon’s first tourney, but you still feared for him. Anything could happen, he could be blinded by the sun, the Red Priest could be seized with divine madness, or the others that Jon had already defeated to reach Thoros could try to interfere and sabotage him.

Jon’s stance is steady, his sword—which glints in the sunlight, a gift from you, for his nameday—at the ready. Strong and sturdy made of the finest steel outside of Valyrian, the pommel set with an emerald, a direwolf carved into the crossguard.

“May the Lord of Light have mercy on you, my son.” Thoros says as he and Jon circle each other.

Jon says nothing, only nods and watches the older man.

Thoros’ sword is aflame with wildfire, the flames dance as he swings it gracefully, waiting for Jon to strike.

“Will the fire burn him?” Sansa asks, watching the two men through her fingers.

“Never seen Jon get burned before.” Theon shrugs.

Sansa hisses a reply at him, her head whipping forward when you gasp.

Jon strikes, fast as a whip, their swords meeting, the sound of iron on iron echoing in the ring. He has been training with Lord Aron Santagar, your uncle’s master-at-arms, or your Uncle Jaime whenever he has free time. Which is often as you do not have much to do most days, besides lessons and subtly attempting to convince Sansa to realize her feelings for Theon.

Thoros lunges, nearly catching Jon by surprise, but Jon side steps, kicking up dust as he moves.

Your heart is in your throat, and you stand, your hand still in Sansa’s when the duelers meet face to face once more. It is a show of strength, and you send a quick prayer to the Warrior, your eyes never leaving Jon’s form. Thoros is gaining, pushing at Jon, his feet sliding in the dirt, his arms trembling.

“Knock him flat, Jon!” Sansa’s voice surprises even you, as she jumps to her feet, Theon’s laughter ringing behind you both.

You are not even sure if Jon can hear her, but he seems emboldened, and he shoves the older man forward with a grunt. Thoros stumbles back, an ecstatic grin on his face.

“There it is, boy, show me your fire.” Thoros cheers, clearly enjoying the match far more than anyone watching.

Jon moves quicker than you can blink, throwing his weight behind his sword and knocking the man flat, just as he had Joffrey all those moons ago. He holds Thoros at sword point, and the crowd erupts.

Robert calls out Jon’s victory cheerfully, and you see Lord Stark smiling as Robert claps him on the back.

Sansa sinks into her chair with a sigh of relief, but you cannot do the same, you rush forward, pressing yourself against the edge of the dais. Jon is your sworn sword, and your heart will not return to its place in your chest until you have seen he is whole.

“Lady Y/N.” Jon calls, his helmet in one hand, his curls wild, a grin born of victory on his handsome face as he approaches the dais, a crown of roses hanging from his sword.

“Ser Jon.” You smile, graciously accepting the crown from the tip of his sword. It is half a hand longer than a normal sword, something you found an odd request of his, but it serves him well.

Sansa helps you arrange the crown on your head, looking at it wistfully. “It is beautiful, and it suits you.”

“Perhaps for the next tourney I will forbid Jon from fighting and Theon can crown you.” You suggest smiling devilishly at the Greyjoy.

Theon makes a sound of protest, Sansa’s own interrupted by Jon’s appearance on the dais. He has not even cleaned himself off, and he sets his helmet down on the railing, barely having enough time to speak before your uncle calls him over.

“Ser Snow, come, let us toast to your victory.” He says, raising a full cup high, Thoros is with them, his own cup full, his smile bright and genuine as he waves Jon over.

Jon looks at you, and you shoo him towards the throne. He has grown taller and stronger, though he is less broad than some other knights, there is raw strength in his every move. He is quick too, evident by the very fact there is barely a scratch on him. He fought six men and all he has to show for it will be a small scar on his cheek and sore muscles in the morning.

Theon’s voice draws your attention away from Jon. “Sansa—”

“Lady Sansa.” She cuts him off.

He leans over and plucks the crown from your head, giving you a quick wink. “Lady Sansa. If you wished to be crowned my queen of love and beauty, you need only ask.” Theon says smoothly placing the crown on her head then giving her an elaborate bow.

Sansa freezes, her eyes darting to where Joffrey sits, his attention completely consumed by the archery competition. “Theon…”

“Though I dare say you are far more beautiful without that frilly crown.” He says, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

“I happen to like that frilly crown.” You interject, trying to hold back your laughter.

Theon can be quite humorous, his bawdy jokes and shameless manner often sending color rushing to Sansa’s cheeks.

“You have to win me this crown, Theon, that is how it works.” Sansa says, ripping the crown from her head and shoving it at Theon.

“And where is your queen, she must come celebrate with us.” Your uncle’s voice booms, carrying over to you, as you take your crown back from Theon.

He helps you adjust it as Sansa did and gives you a secret smile. “Promise you will keep Jon from fighting next time?”

You smile back. “I promise.”

“Y/N, come over here, the people wish to see you congratulate your champion.”

You pick up your skirts and hurry over to your uncle, who is already deep in his cups. Your aunt is watching him with an air of disgust veiled by wifely concern. “My King, do not embarrass the poor girl.”

Robert waves her off. “It is only proper; it was the reward I would receive from you when I would crown you my queen of love and beauty.”

You glance at your father, who is still seated. He inclines his head towards you. It is your decision, whatever your uncle is asking of you.

Jon shifts his weight, his skin sweat soaked and dusted with dirt, a mug of ale in his hand.

“Embarrass me?” You search your mind for whatever your aunt could be referring to, there were not many times your uncle would compete in tourneys, especially as he aged, the only reward you can remember him receiving…

Thoros slings an arm over Jon’s shoulder. “A kiss, you must bestow your champion a kiss.”

Your eyes widen and you glance around. Everyone is watching, even the crowd seems intent to see what the King will encourage next. They are chanting, you did not realize they were chanting for Jon, too wrapped up in your own thoughts.

“I—I am unwed, would it not be improper?” You ask, looking to your aunt for help.

“Robert, please she is only a child—”

“On the cheek then, there is no shame then, your father is here, I am here, there shall be no besmirching of your virtue.” Your uncle says, clapping his hands together with a tone of finality.

Series Masterlist here!

Jon Snow TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz

#meg's writing #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagines #jon snow imagine #jon snow #lannister!reader

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 1 year ago

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Homecoming Daydream Part 2

Summary: With the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader.

Genre: Romance, fluff and smut.

Author's note: This is a multiple-chapter Toto x Reader fanfic. Noted that English is not my mother tongue so there will be mistakes.

Part 1: Homecoming Daydream

Y/n hadn’t lied before. She wasn’t nervous about marrying Toto. Like at all.

At that moment, as she walked towards him, down the altar, she was overcome not by excitement but was overwhelmed with the sense of love. The sight of someone, and not just someone, he is, the man in her dream standing at the end of the aisle, patiently waiting for her. She felt like she must have been trapped in a dream, one that she silently prayed to never be woken up from. But as her tipped French nails poked into the palm of her hand, she realised that all these things were happening and they were indeed, 100% true. As she neared him, she could feel the nerves and butterflies disappear and be replaced by a warm feeling of peace and serenity. Like a homecoming. And she is indeed at home now and forevermore.

All she could do was focus on the heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Then, Toto’s warm hand wrapped around her own. Then, his face – his beautiful dark brown eyes so invitingly warm and intense, she felt caught in his gaze. Then, his gorgeous smile, told her just how happy he was. And slowly her heartbeat steadied, the deafening pulse quieted and she was gently grounded back into the moment with him. I am home, she thought.

And not a second too early, because as she caught Fred’s expectant gaze, she realized that they somehow must’ve gotten to the part where they would exchange their vows. Y/n cleared her throat. The words came so easily – because they were true.

“Toto. I must say this and I know it’s not a very romantic way to start a vow but I had a pretty much okay life before I met you.”

There was a low rumble of laughter in the crowd. Y/n smiled and took another deep breath before she continued.

“It’s not fantastic, just average like anyone else’s life out there can be, and I guess I was fine with it. With the thought of being a loner traveller in this lifetime. With the thought of never being the chosen one. Everything ate me up and made me believe it that way. Until I met you. I never expected to meet someone like you. I didn’t even think of someone like you to ever set foot in my life. Slowly, I get to know the beautiful person you are, inside and out. To be so lucky as to fall in love with you. I’ve found my new home, you – right here. And I couldn’t be more grateful to spend my life with you.”

She saw the moisture shimmering in his eyes and was sure that her own looked pretty similar. He smiled, before nodding at Fred and taking a deep breath.

“ Y/n, my life was pretty much like yours before I met you. Except for all the noise, the hustle lifestyle and the demands of everything in my life,... Too much that there were days I thought it was going to swallow me whole. That was until we came across. I didn’t know I could ever admire one’s eyes this much, and just hearing your laughter and being with you made me feel at home. You called me your home, Schatz. Well, you are mine, too. As you have given me your hands to hold, so I give you my life to hold from this day forward.”

Her heart beat steadily throughout his vows, but the tears that had been on the verge of slipping before now streamed freely down her face. There was nothing she could do about it. It was as though her love for this man poured out of her body because there was simply too much of it to be physically contained.

She was vaguely aware that Lewis stepped forward behind Toto and handed him something. Toto took the box and flipped it open, revealing two rings. Y/n gasped and swallowed an incredulous chuckle at the size of the diamond inside. Toto hadn’t proposed to her with an engagement ring, since he’d done it spontaneously one night, while they were still wrapped up in bed together. After, she’d told him not to get one, since she found a single wedding ring would more than suffice. Really, she should’ve expected that he would go above and beyond with it, knowing he would go feral in choosing her the perfect ring, with the biggest diamond, of course. He smirked at her reaction and picked the ring from the box, looking at Lewis expectantly. His friend chuckled.

“Okay, I feel kinda silly even asking after all of that, but here we go. Toto, do you Y/n to be your wife?”

“I do”, Toto answered, his voice even and earnest, despite his smile. Then he slid the ring in place and lifted her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I love you” he whispered.

That steady pulse from before was replaced by a frantic gallop, her heart almost jumping out of her chest at the touch of his lips.

“And Y/n, do you take Grandpa Toto here to be your husband?”

There was another rumble of laughter from the audience, Toto however, acted as though he hadn’t even heard the quip, his eyes glued to her face, her lips. Waiting to hear her answer. As if he still couldn’t believe she’d agree. Silly old man.

“I do“, she said. Then she plucked the other ring from the box, a simple gold band, and took Toto’s hand.

“And I love you too,“ she whispered and slid the ring onto his finger.

They stood there and stared at each other, both smiling and silently crying, until Fred cleared his throat and even his voice sounded suspiciously tight with emotion.

“Well, then with the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your wife now, Wolff.”

And then just only waiting for that moment, her husband did what he was said to do.

Everyone cheered, as Toto released Y/n just slightly, still holding her in his arms, as she grinned up at him. „Hey husband“, she whispered.

His heart felt like it had grown three sizes.

„Hey wife“, he answered, with a smile so wide it actually hurt.

The music turned up in the background and people jumped out of their chairs, charging towards them for hugs and kisses. Lewis was first since he stood right next to them. He clapped Toto on the back before twirling Y/n into one of his bear hugs, making her laugh as he lifted her off the ground.

“Welcome to the fam, Mrs. Wolff or you prefer it as Mrs. Mercedes. Thank you for saving us from the wrath of him smashing another pair of Bose’s headphones.”

“I’m more than happy too,” she answered with a wink towards Toto.

Y/n’s friends and family were another matter, alternately sobbing blended with screaming here and there (happy scream, of course) as they essentially pried her from his hands. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave a little shrug while rolling her eyes, before trying to calm everyone down. As dramatic as them all, she felt whole with them here today.

Half an hour later, most of the crying was done, and people had started mingling and dancing. And Y/n was finally back at his side, as he pulled her out onto the dancefloor for their first dance as wife and husband.

„I missed you“, she murmured, sighing happily as she leaned into him, slowly swaying from side to side.

He grinned.

„I missed you too, sweetheart. Almost broke that stupid rule and came to see you last night, but they almost sent a missing report so I pretty much couldn’t pull the trick of meeting at a secret place like Romeo and Juliet.“

“You want us to die. That’s not what I imagine a happily ever after ending is about, Toto. Did I just marry a crazy, old man?”

“You did not say that.” He said, completely serious.

“Is that so?”

“Just so you know, wifey. This crazy, old man here fully intended to fuck you tonight. you look so perfect in this dress. Makes me wanna fucking ruin you.”

She tilted her head as though she was weighing her options with a flushed face.

“Hmm. That’s the kind of crazy I can handle. And you also aged just fine, husband. Also, you've already ruined me. I can't go five minutes without thinking about your hands on me, our bodies intertwined.”

Toto cursed quietly, already feeling himself harden in his suit. Not an ideal situation, with everyone watching them spin around in slow circles on the dance floor.

“Oh, Schatz, you can’t say this in public without expecting me to get all hard up.”

Y/n hummed quietly and leaned closer, sliding her hand down his back and pressing her soft body against his torso.

“Rewards come to those whose patience, husband of mine. I promise you there will present for you to open tonight.”

After making the rounds, taking turns dancing with their friends and family, posing for photos and indulging in the food, Toto's patience was running thin. Although surrounded by family and beloved friends, Toto felt increasingly impatient. The wedding felt like an eternity and a huge distraction from the real reason they were all there: to witness Toto and his bride say "I do." He now started to wonder where his wife had gone since she disappeared 15 minutes ago.

“Have you guys seen my wife?” Toto asked Lewis, Sebastian and George.

“You really enjoy saying that, huh?“ George teased.

“I think she went upstairs to freshen up, maybe,” Lewis said.

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pastrydragon · 1 year ago

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The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost

While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.

I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.

We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.

And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!

I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.

Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.

Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!

And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.

And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.

Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #ulder ravengard #morena dekarios #gale x wyll #I don't know their ship name #I only ship it for the family drama #Astarion can also fill this role as Wyll's SO but this is funnier to me #bladeweave #thank you dromaeocore for telling me!

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slaymitchabernathy · 6 months ago

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The Nanny

꧁ One Month Later ꧂

Soarynn studies herself in the vanity mirror.

Would her father be proud of the woman she's become?

She's always tried to make him proud but being fired by the President of Panem is a bit of a letdown, a streak on her perfectly clean record. It's truly humbled her. Which is why today, she has an interview.

An interview for a job that has no emotional reasoning, only logic is involved. She's never been a receptionist before but it seems easy enough and if her skills and personality don't land her the job, then her last name certainly will.

"There are certain perks to being a Nightingale," she says to herself, applying a layer of lipstick.

The first few days after being fired as the Snow's nanny were short of horrible. She cried for hours on end, not necessarily because she got her feelings hurt, but because of the children. She didn't think she'd get so attached, but she did, broke every rule in the book by loving them and caring for them as if she were their mother.

Even though he warned her not to.

In fact, President Snow explicitly told her not to do so and she still did.

She could certainly blame Festus Creed, but at the end of the day, it was her own fault. She didn't grow careless, instead, she cared too much and it cost her the children.

A painful lesson to learn.

She turns on her stool to face Petunia who's been lounging on her bed since they both woke up for the day, "How do I look Petunia?" Her fluffy white cat only meows in response, batting a paw in the air. Soarynn allows herself a small smile, reaching over to scratch behind her ears before getting up to get dressed.

She picked out her outfit last night so she didn't run late. A stylish red dress with a straight neckline and a belt that accentuates her waist, and a pair of black heels. Simple yet classy. She chooses a few pieces of gold jewelry to go along with her outfit, earrings, a simple necklace, and perhaps a ring. She studies her small collection of rings that she's gathered over the years and her eyes land on a ring with a rose adorning it.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt to see it.

Roses now hold a very deep, personal meaning to her.

She decides on a simple gold band and just as she's slipping it on, the doorbell rings.

Soarynn frowns, she had arranged for a driver to pick her up but that's not for at least another thirty minutes. Still, she quickly leaves her closet and makes her way out of her room and into the hallway. She glides down the marble staircase, Petunia hot on her heels to also see who's at the door.

Soarynn quickly runs her fingers through her hair, just in case there's a very attractive man on the other side of the doors who was looking for a wife.

Wouldn't that be wonderful?

The doorbell rings three more times in a row and Soarynn frowns, whoever is on the other side must be in a terrible hurry. She pulls the doors open and can't stop the shock from spreading across her face when she sees a small finger attached to the doorbell, more importantly, who is attached to that little finger.

Celeste smiles up at her, "Soarynn I rang the doorbell!"

Soarynn is at a loss for words when Celeste and Ceraphina rush in to hug her, talking a mile a minute, her hands resting on their blonde curls like it's second nature. She nods along to everything they say, trying to gain her bearings. Never in her life did she think the Snow girls would be at her house. She looks up for a moment and her heart nearly stops at the sight of President Snow standing on her doorstep, Caspian in his arms.

She knows she was hoping for an attractive man looking for a wife, but this is not exactly what she had in mind.

"Did you miss us?"

That question pulls her out of her daze and she nods, looking back down at the girls, "I've missed so you very much," she whispers, getting a bit emotional.

Ceraphina smiles and her attention is quickly drawn to Petunia who's been watching from a safe distance, "Petunia!" It's a mad dash the moment she speaks, Petunia darting into the living room and the girls chasing after her, giggling up a storm.

Soarynn doesn't even know what to do or say so she simply watches President Snow slowly walk up the steps and give her a nod, "May we come in?"

Soarynn focuses on Caspian who's already reaching out for her, "You might as well," she answers, giving Caspian's hand a squeeze, "Momma," he mumbles and President Snow sighs, "I know Cas, I know." His piercing gaze settles back on Soarynn and she feels a shiver travel down her spine, "I was hoping we could talk."

Soarynn swallows, she can't really say no, not to the President of Panem. "Alright." President Snow looks around the foyer of her home wearily as if memories are flashing through his mind of a time when this house was full of life a laughter.

Now it's filled with death and darkness, much like his own home.

"Perhaps we should have this discussion in the study," he suggests, forging forward and leaving her with no option but to follow him. He seems so sure of himself walking through her house, but he's been here before if she can recall, or he at least knew her parents quite well. Caspian lets out several whimpers and whines, flailing in his father’s arms as he carries them through the house.

He leads them to her father's study, a room she hasn't touched in months. He turns on the light and turns to face her, a bit of an uncomfortable look on his face, "I think he wants you to hold him."

"Yes," is all Caspian says and Soarynn is more than happy to oblige, lifting him from his father's arms and pressing a kiss to his head once he's safely in hers, "Oh, I missed you, sweet boy," she whispers. Caspian lifts his head and she grins when she sees that little smile on his face, "Lenny misses," he mumbles. Soarynn raises her eyebrows, "Lenny misses me too? I've missed him quite a lot as well."

Caspian seems content with her confession and rests his head back on her chest, leaving Soarynn to look back up at his father who's watching them with so much conflict behind his eyes. "Let's sit down," he finally says, rounding her father's desk as if he lives here.

Soarynn doesn't fight it though, she just sits down in the chair across from him, trying to forget what happened the last time they were seated like this.

"I have come..." he starts, his teeth clicking when he shuts his mouth, shaking his head, "I...I have come to apologize to you."

Soarynn raises her eyebrows again, "You have come to apologize?"

He nods, seemingly as surprised as she is, "I have," he confirms, "I was wrong for what I did, although I will not apologize for my reasoning." Soarynn furrows her eyebrows at his contradicting words and before she can say anything he holds his hand up, silencing her, "Let me explain my reasoning first, then you can tell me what a horrible human being I am," he says.

He sounds like he's said that a thousand times, always having to explain how he does things and he probably has. Being President means making hard calls, and tough decisions, and someone is always going to be hurt by them. This time, it was Soarynn.

"When I was alerted about the...incident, my main concern was my children. At the end of the day, their safety is my main priority. Not their happiness, not their upbringing, their safety. When I heard about what had transpired feet away from their rooms, no matter who was at fault, I knew their safety had been at risk and that was reason enough for me to dismiss you."

Soarynn looks back down at Caspian, sound asleep in her arms already. He had witnessed the horrific night, and something could've happened, Festus could've acted out of anger and hurt him or the girls.

"That being said, I cannot afford to act off of emotion. I can not afford to get close to anyone, to let anyone in. Not after Livia. So when I dared to break my rules for a moment, when I allowed you to call me by my name and then within the same breath found out about what happened between you and Festus, I knew what had to be done. I knew that by breaking my own rules, there would be consequences. I didn't however, expect to reap them so soon," he admits, sitting back in the chair, "but I was hurt nonetheless."

Soarynn didn't think President Snow was capable of being hurt, not from what she's seen. But perhaps his children are the one thing, the one way to hurt him. They're the one thing he loves and it's the things we love most that destroy us.

She purses her lips, "I understand," she says slowly, "I don't appreciate how rashly you acted and how you went about dismissing me but I do understand how important your children’s safety is. Their safety is important to me too. I would never do anything to endanger them."

He lets out a bitter laugh, rubbing his temples, "I know," he tells her, "I know you wouldn't and I know that you weren't the one who started the entire thing between you and Festus."

Soarynn's eyes widen at his statement. Where was this logic a month ago?

"I...I had my doubts," he says, "not that I didn't believe Festus but it was hard to picture the timid, quiet Soarynn Nightingale throwing herself all over a man who she didn't seem interested in a few hours ago, still, I had my loyalties and I did act rashly. It was partially due to you leaving immediately after which in my eyes, made you look guilty and it also..."

Soarynn watches him struggle to find the words to say, perhaps he's never uttered them before. "It also made me feel like a fool for letting you in and confiding in you. I thought perhaps I had found someone who genuinely cared about the sanctity of my family, someone whose care went further than the surface, so to have Festus whispering those lies in my ear truly clouded my judgment."

Soarynn blinks once, twice. She was not expecting this. None of this in fact. She was supposed to go to an interview and yet here she is, sitting with the man who fired her and managed to break her heart without even being romantically involved with her.

What a terrifying concept.

"But you know now," she says slowly, not entirely trusting herself to speak, "you know what he did to me?"

President Snow nods, a displeased look on his face, "I do," he confirms, "and I'm sorry you had to go through that, alone and without a job on top of that." Soarynn feels her lip tremble but she remains intact, she is not as breakable as he thinks.

"How do you know he's lying and I'm not?"

President Snow sighs, drumming his fingers on the wooden desk, "After I dramatically fired you, the girls were a mess as you briefly witnessed. They were inconsolable, and they refused to speak to me. This went on for several weeks as you can imagine, the tantrums, the crabiness, the distancing. I've hardly been able to recognize my darling daughters," he mumbles, shaking his head, "and I'm the one to blame. But I invited Festus over a few days ago for a drink, I needed to clear my head after the month I'd endured. Looking for a new nanny has proven to be more difficult than I anticipated. You've set our standards quite high," he tells her, a small twinkle in his eyes.

Soarynn feels herself swell with pride at his comment. To know that she's left a lasting mark, a lasting impression on his family is closure enough. But he continues talking, "I brought Caspian with me," he gestures to his sleeping son, "he hasn't been sleeping well since you left. Screaming, crying, the whole nine yards. The moment he saw Festus I saw something I've never seen in Caspian's eyes."

Soarynn peers down at the sleeping angel in her arms, the sweetest boy who has eyes identical to his father’s. She can't imagine what President Snow saw that frightened him so much.

"What did you see?"

"Hate."

His answer is enough to stun her. Caspian isn't capable of hate, he wouldn't hurt a fly let alone have it in him to hate someone.

President Snow nods as if reading her perplexed mind, "Exactly. He refused to look at Festus for the rest of the night until Festus went to tickle him, trying to cheer him up and Caspian pushed his hand away, another thing that stunned me. Then Festus made a few crude comments about you when I mentioned that your departure might be a reason for Caspian's behavior. I called him out on it but he insisted I was just tired and frustrated. When Festus was leaving, he went to give Caspian a friendly squeeze, he's more than used to it," he says, watching Soarynn nod along to his words.

"And then...and then Caspian said two words, and that was all I needed to hear to know that it wasn't you who came onto Festus, but Festus who came onto you and followed you upstairs while everyone else was down at the party."

Her mouth is dry with anticipation but she manages to speak, "What did he say?"

President Snow focuses his gaze on Caspian, a bit of pride in his eyes, "He pushed Festus away again and said: 'Hurt Momma' and I knew there was no one else on the earth that he could consider to be his mother but you."

Soarynn doesn't realize she's crying until a tear lands on top of Caspian's head, causing him to rouse from his sleep and press a hand on her cheek, "Momma." She looks down into his eyes, a loving smile on her face, "I'm right here darling."

"After that, I pushed Festus into telling the truth. He claimed he was drunk as if that made it any better or excused his actions. Then I remembered seeing the bruise on your wrist. I put the rest of the pieces together before taking care of Festus."

Soarynn looks at him from across the desk, both their eyes holding different emotions, "He...he found me when I was leaving Caspian's room. I bumped the doors open trying to get away and Caspian ended up witnessing the whole thing," she gets out, more tears burning as the memories resurface, "I didn't think he'd remember any of it after I got him back to sleep."

A flash of anger passes through his eyes before they return to normal and he clasps his hands, "I can assure you that Festus will be dealt with thoroughly."

Soarynn doesn’t press to find out what he truly means. As long as she doesn’t have to worry about Festus breaking into her home at night, then it’s none of her concern.

They both sit there for a moment, staring at each other as if neither of them truly knows what to make out of the other. For a second when they were dancing, Soarynn thought she had felt something, witnessed something genuine rather than the usual cold facade she was greeted with.

But he’s closed off now, even in the safety of her own home he’s on guard, protecting himself and his children. She can hear the girls giggling in the other room and a few meows of protest from Petunia who’s most likely tired out and given in to their want to play with her.

“Is this all you came for then?” She asks, her voice steadier than she thought it would be. After all these months, President Snow still has the capability of making her nervous. Even in her father’s study.

He shakes his head, clearing his throat while doing so. “No, I…we,” he gestures to himself and then to Caspian, “have come to ask for you to come back to us.”

Soarynn’s heartbeat rapidly increases at the request, at the chance to go back to being with the children. A small part of her worries about what could lie in the future, she could be fired again, humiliated again. And for something she did not do.

But the larger part of her wants nothing more than to wake up and face the new day with the Snow children by her side. The future might be prosperous for her and she’d be a fool to let it slip through her fingers.

“You want me back?”

President Snow nods, a small smile on his lips, “I will not lie and say that the past month has been easy. Eudora has taken on the brunt of caring for the children but she can’t do two things at once forever and there’s no one in this world who can care for them the way you do. The girls won’t accept anyone but you and I’m highly certain that Caspian feels the same way.”

Soarynn almost finds herself nodding to his proposal when she realizes how much time has passed. She’s missed her interview.

“I was supposed to have an interview today,” she says, more to herself than to him. “I was going to be a secretary for a law firm.”

President Snow quirks an eyebrow yet he does not look surprised in the slightest, “I know,” he plainly states, “I was the one who referred you.” Soarynn's jaw slightly drops, she hadn't expected him to have a helping hand in landing her interview but President Snow is full of surprises it seems. He scoffs a laugh at her dumbfounded expression, "Don't look so stunned," he tells her, leaning back in his chair, "you're an excellent worker, even if you didn't list me as a reference."

Soarynn blushes at his comment, she had chosen to forego listing him as a past employer for many obvious reasons, worrying that he might say something to further ruin her reputation. But instead, he helped her.

"Then you knew about it," she murmurs, daring to look him directly in the eye, "you knew my interview would be today, so you showed up right before I left."

The President of Panem almost looks...caught if that's even possible. Guilty would be a better term for it.

He cards a hand through his golden curls and sighs deeply, "I must admit that showing up today was a strategic plan on my part and a desperate one on Eudora's part since she's quite eager to have you back with us. We figured catching you before the interview would be our best route."

Soarynn didn't realize she was so special.

"Well, I...I would not be opposed to working for your family again," she says, straightening up in her seat, "but I would like to request a few things should I agree to your terms."

President Snow gives her a teasing look as if he hadn't expected this, but Soarynn would be a fool to blindly agree to come back without a safety net in place, "Go on," he encourages, "tell me your terms and conditions."

Soarynn clears her throat, feeling as if she's conducting a business meeting with him. Her father used to do this with her all the time when she wanted something, have her draft up a business proposal, or well, a semblance of one. That's how she got Petunia, a compelling argument can go a long way.

But this isn't her father.

"I would like actions to be taken to prevent another incident from occurring," she states, watching his eyes flash with anger but not at her, she knows who he's really mad at. "Not just in your home," she elaborates, "but anywhere we go, anywhere something bad could happen."

He laces his fingers together, "Anything else?"

"Yes, the children need something to look after, some responsibility like a pet." His nostrils flare at her suggestion, you'd think she suggested setting fire to the Mansion, "A pet is a huge undertaking," he tells her, using the same voice he uses with his girls, "not to mention messy and loud. An animal in my house is quite unlikely."

Soarynn frowns and rubs soothing circles on Caspian's back when he slightly stirs, "A horse then," she decides, "build a stable and allow the girls to take riding lessons. They could learn a great deal by taking care of the horse." He looks off into the distance as if contemplating her proposal and Soarynn hopes he'll accept it, the girls love animals and while a dog might be better suited for them, a horse is a step in the right direction.

"I'll speak to my groundskeepers about building stables," he finally says.

Soarynn cheerfully nods, "Wonderful."

"Is there anything else?"

Soarynn tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, she can't think of anything else off the top of her head, except..."I want you to listen to me when I try and tell you something," she tells him, "I want you to trust that I would never do anything to put your children in danger and if someone says I would, then I want you to come to me first, not fire me first."

His throat bobs and she knows she's got him. Soarynn shouldn't be talking to her boss this way but this might be her only chance.

"Alright Ms. Nightingale," he says slowly, "I'll agree to your conditions. They seem fair and logical, and I can have my secretary write up a contract listing all of them for the two of us to sign off on."

Soarynn is buzzing with excitement, she gets to go back, to be with the children again.

"Now let me list my terms and conditions."

What?

President Snow wears a smirk letting her know that this won't be a one-sided exchange, "For starters, you'll actually take your one day off every month instead of spending it with my children. I know you've been avoiding those days but it's important for one to have a day of rest."

Soarynn slightly slouches in her chair but doesn't argue with him, perhaps a day off every now and then wouldn't be the worst thing. "Secondly, and I'm speaking for my entire family when I say this, we want you to become a live-in nanny."

Soarynn scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. A live-in nanny?

He waves off her confusion with the wave of his hand, "You'll move into the mansion with us, be with my children at all hours of the day instead of returning to your home every night." He looks around the study that hasn't been touched since the day her father died, dust covering almost anything, "I have a feeling that it must get quite lonely in this large house."

Soarynn purses her lips, it certainly does get lonely but she has Petunia to keep her company and she can't just abandon her. "I'd have to bring my cat," she tells him, watching his jaw clench, "I can't leave her, she's all I have left of him," she whispers the last part. "Besides, the girls already love her and she won't cause any trouble I swear. All she does is sleep."

They're at a bit of a standstill, both wanting something from the other, not willing to give up or back down.

Finally, he breaks.

"Fine. Your cat may come but should she damage any of my property, she's out."

Soarynn can't hide the smile growing across her face, she gets her children back and Petunia gets to come with her. Oh, the girls will be so excited when they hear the news. "You can start today I presume?' He asks while rising from his seat. Soarynn quickly nods and does the same, adjusting her hold on Caspian, "Yes sir."

He grunts, "Very well then. Pack your things and my men will bring them all to the Mansion this afternoon. You and the children can return home once you're finished packing."

Soarynn's smile slightly drops at his orders, "You're not coming with us?" He looks perplexed by her question and sudden disappointment but shakes his head, "I have meetings to attend in the city. I assumed you would accept my offer so I would then be able to leave my children in your trusted care once again. I have another car waiting outside to take you all back home."

Soarynn purses her lips but she doesn't push him any further, this discussion has been a lot for the both of them.

"Home," Caspian repeats, now wide awake. Soarynn softly chuckles and places a kiss on top of his head, "Mhm, we're all going home Cas."

President Snow eyes her and his son, a somewhat fond expression in his eyes although she doubts it's for her and most likely for his son, but she wonders what it would be like for him to look at her that way. He might have looked at Livia like that once upon a time before their world came crashing down.

"Daddy! Daddy look!"

The girls come running into the study, drawing their focus to the topic at hand which will always be the children. Soarynn looks down to find a very annoyed-looking Petunia with a pink ribbon tied around her neck while being held in Ceraphina's arms. She lets out a pleading meow when she sees Soarynn as if saying: 'Save me.'

A small smile graces the President's lips, a genuine one at that, reserved only for his darling children, "She doesn't look too pleased about playing dress-up darling." Ceraphina shakes her head, "She loves it, don't you Petunia?"

Petunia does her best to avoid eye contact with anyone, looking at the ground instead, "Your house is so big Soarynn," Celeste tells her, reaching up to take her hand. Soarynn gladly takes it, knowing now to cherish every moment with these sweet angels, "I won't be staying in it for much longer," she muses, watching both girls grow curious faces. "What do you mean? Are you moving?" Celeste asks, tugging on her hand with an anxious look on her face.

Soarynn immediately crouches down so she's at eye level with both girls who have been dealing with loss for quite some time now, her departure only adding to that trauma, "I am moving," she tells them, watching the crestfallen looks on their faces only grow deeper causing a smile to grow onto hers, "because I'm moving in with you. I'm going to be your live-in nanny now."

The change in their demeanors is instantaneous, the girls go from on the verge of tears to shrieking and jumping up and down.

"Really?! You're really gonna come live with us Soarynn?"

"I am," Soarynn confirms, "Petunia is too."

This might be the best news the girls have ever gotten. They go from hugging Soarynn to hugging their father, thanking him for allowing Soarynn to return. Caspian rests a hand on her cheek and she turns to look into his blue eyes, identical to his father's, "Stay," he says with a determined tone.

Soarynn nods, pressing a kiss to his hand, "I'm staying," she tells him, "I'm not going anywhere."

꧁ ꧂

Everything becomes a blur once President Snow leaves.

After saying goodbye to the children and making them promise to behave, he left for his meetings and Soarynn took the children upstairs so she could start packing.

She packs the necessities first, things such as toiletries and her favorite clothing items while the girls run rampant through her room, wanting to see and touch everything she's ever owned. She doesn't mind though, she's simply happy to be back in their presence again. Caspian sits atop her bed, watching her pack her things into a suitcase while Petunia sits next to him, both their curious blue eyes watching her every move.

"Soarynn, who's this?"

Soarynn glances over at her bookshelf where Ceraphina and Celeste are staring at a photograph of her and her father together, taken the day she graduated from the Academy. "That's my father," she says with a sad smile, "he passed away a while ago."

Ceraphina reaches out to touch the photograph, gently so she doesn't risk knocking it over, "Where's the pictures of you with your mommy?"

A wave of sadness washes over Soarynn, knowing that she'll never have a photograph of her and her mother together is a painful reminder of how her mother passed away. "She died when I was a baby," she explains, "so we never got to take a photo together."

Cera Nightingale was known for her beauty and acts of kindness. She was known to be graceful and full of life, lighting up every room she walked into. So it was no surprise that she fell for Glen Nightingale, a quiet man with a large heart and a kind demeanor. The couple had been overjoyed when they found out Cera was pregnant with their firstborn daughter, who would unbeknownst to them, take Cera's life during the traumatic birth.

And yet her father remained endlessly kind and patient with her, even though Soarynn carried guilt deep down, a feeling that she was responsible for killing her mother. She didn't speak of her mother often, the last time she spoke of her was with President Snow who remarked on their similar looks and traits of kindness, both things she would never bear witness to.

"It's okay," Celeste tells her, crossing the room to place a comforting hand on Soarynn's leg, "as long as we have Daddy, we'll be okay." Soarynn finds it so very adorable and kind of Celeste to be comforting her in this time of sadness, especially at such a young age. President Snow had commented on how she might make his children more kind but that seems impossible, they're already endlessly kind.

"Yes," Soarynn agrees, "we'll all be okay."

꧁ ꧂

It's a wonderful feeling to be back in the President's Mansion. Soarynn thought she might never grace these halls again, let alone with Petunia who took one look at the grand foyer before turning her head and making her way up the stairs. It might take some more exploring to impress her.

"Here's your room dear," Eudora calls, "right down this hall."

Soarynn finds herself surprised when she realizes that her room is in the same hall as the rest of the Snow family's rooms, right in between the girl's bedrooms and Caspian's room. Probably for the convenience of things but she's still shocked to be in such close proximity to the Presidential family, especially President Snow himself who's now only a few doors down.

"Coriolanus wanted you to have this room," Eudora tells her once they all reach the doors, "he said you might enjoy the view." Eudora pushes the doors open after saying that and Soarynn can't stop the gasp from leaving her lips.

It's gorgeous.

It's also huge. There's a large canopy bed pressed against the back wall which has large windows on each side, letting in so much natural light. To the right is a large sitting area with sofas, armchairs, and a fireplace. There are also bookshelves and a large coffee table in the middle of the seating arrangements.

To the left is a large-looking vanity with a dresser and a full-length mirror in the corner. "Oh my goodness," she whispers as she walks into the room, the girls running ahead of her. "Come and see the closet!" Ceraphina says, running into what must be the closet and bathroom. Soarynn follows her as if in a trance, taking a moment to look up at the high, intricately carved ceilings.

The bathroom is just as massive with a tub, shower, and huge counter space with a large mirror as well. There are two sinks and lots of storage space under the counters as well. Soarynn also notes a built-in vanity area as well should she choose to get ready in the bathroom instead.

"You can put your dresses in here," Celeste tells her, pointing towards the closet. Celeste had taken a liking to all of Soarynn's dresses, claiming they were fit for a princess. Soarynn was honored to be considered a princess even though she felt she was far from being one.

“This is amazing,” she whispers to herself when she finally walks into the large walk-in closet. It’s as big as the bathroom with a large table in the middle with a vase of roses sitting on top of it.

“There’s a card!” Ceraphina says, standing on her tiptoes to reach the card leaning against the base of roses. Eudora ends up reaching it for her, a curious look on the older woman’s face which means she had nothing to do with this mystery letter.

Ceraphina proudly brings it over to Soarynn who reluctantly takes it, turning it over to see if anything’s been written on it.

On the front, it simply reads:

To Ms. Nightingale

She turns it and finds that the back has been sealed with a stamp, a rose in the center of the wax. “Rose,” Caspian says, touching the wax for a moment. Soarynn nods before setting the card down on one of the shelves, “I can read it later. Why don’t you girls help me unpack?”

She’s met with excited gasps from the girls and a relieved sigh from Eudora who had been so very happy to see Soarynn walking back into the Mansion. “We’ve been quite miserable without you dear,” she had said as they walked up the grand staircase, “you’ve left a mark on this family it seems.”

The girls run back out into the bedroom to start unpacking the small bag Soarynn brought with her. The rest of her things are packed in trunks, waiting to be picked up by President Snow’s men, whoever they are. Soarynn has seen so many men over the past few months, ranging from Peacekeepers to diplomats. They have one thing in common: President Snow signs their paychecks.

“I have some things to put together, you know where to find me,” Eudora tells her and Soarynn nods, “Of course. Thank you, Eudora.”

Soarynn lingers in the closet for a moment once Eudora leaves, making it just her and Caspian in this large room with so much space she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to fill it.

What if this all goes away? What if he fires me again? What if I lose the children again?

A million terrible thoughts race through her head, thoughts about being forced out of this house again but this time would be much more painful. To have to pack her things and then leave would be devastating.

But it won’t come to that. Not if she has anything to do with it.

“Rose,” Caspian says again, pointing at the letter.

Soarynn sighs and picks it up again, feeling the paper between her fingertips, “Let’s open it now hmm?”

Soarynn walks into the bathroom and carefully sets Caspian down on the countertop before tearing open the wax seal. Her fingers slightly tremble as she pulls out the thick card, only a few words written on it from what she can see.

“Soarynn! Come look at Petunia!”

Her eyes are glued to the card when she answers, “Coming darling!”

Soarynn sets the card down on the counter, letting out a sigh before collecting herself and picking Caspian back up. She has things to do, a job to do in fact and she plans on doing it better than the first time.

But the letter stays in the back of her mind the entire day.

Those words linger on the tip of her tongue and lead her to think about the man sleeping a few doors down from her.

I do hope you enjoy the view of the gardens, and I do hope you find your new room is up to your standards. Should you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know. I hope we can share another dance in the near future. Yours truly, Coriolanus Snow

꧁ ꧂

꧁ One Week Later ꧂

“I don’t want to wear black.”

Soarynn suppresses a sigh, she knows it’s no use in fighting any of the children today. Not when it holds such a heavy burden on their hearts.

“We have to wear black because Daddy said so,” Ceraphina reminds her little sister, fixing her own black dress, “then we can go put flowers on Mommy’s grave.”

Today marks the two-year anniversary of Livia Snow's death.

It's now a national day of remembrance and many establishments are closed for the day, including all the schools in the Capitol. Soarynn had glanced out of the front windows of the Mansion earlier this morning to see a crowd of people gathering at the front gates to lay down flowers and cards for the family.

The girls were fine during breakfast, chattering away like normal but their father was far from normal, acting more curt and closed off than usual, which was saying something for the man. Caspian didn't seem to be affected by today's significance, but Soarynn still felt terrible about it.

If Livia were still alive, she wouldn't be working for the Snow family.

"It's not a princess dress," Celeste whines, stomping her foot.

Before Soarynn can offer a word of encouragement, an authoritative voice fills the bedroom, stern and sharp, "I will not allow any misbehavior today Celeste. You should know better by now."

Celeste shrinks into herself and Soarynn glances over her shoulder at President Snow, looming over all of them with an aggravated look on his face. She swallows and turns her attention back to the youngest Snow daughter, making sure her hair is properly clipped back, "It's just for a little while darling," she whispers, hoping to salvage the rest of the day, "and you look tremendously grown up in your dress."

Celeste's bottom lip quivers and tears are quick to follow, "I...I don't wanna be grown up, I want Mommy back!" Soarynn's heart clenches at the sight of Celeste in tears, clearly hurting on this dreadful day. "I'm sorry," she whispers, crouching down to comfort Celeste, "I'm sorry she's not here anymore darling. But she's watching over you, and I know she'd be so proud of you." Celeste sniffles and allows Soarynn to pull her in for a hug, a few hiccups escaping her throat, "I don't want Daddy to be mad at me," she whispers, more tears flowing down her face.

Soarynn shakes her head and wipes her tears, "He's not mad at you darling, he could never be mad at you." She looks over her shoulder again at the man who she still knows so little about, but she knows one thing for certain, he loves his children. And he's hurting just as much as they are today.

She can see the sadness in his eyes, watching his youngest daughter break down over the loss of her mother, someone she barely got the chance to know. Ceraphina had been three when Livia passed away, Celeste was two and Caspian was still a baby.

But who could forget a mother's love?

"Come here Celeste," he says quietly, holding out a hand.

Celeste looks up at him with a bit of hesitation and Soarynn gives her a gentle squeeze, "Go on darling," she encourages, standing back up and moving to the side. She watches Celeste slowly walk over to her father, her head lowered, eyes trained on the floor. President Snow sighs and gets down on one knee to be more at eye-level with her.

He takes her small hands in his large ones and while Soarynn can't distinctly make out what he says to her, she knows it's comforting from the way Celeste melts into his hold, letting him wrap his arms around her while they both grieve.

Soarynn has never seen President Snow cry but today could be the day where a tear graces his stoic face.

She looks down at Ceraphina who's watching the interaction with watery eyes as well, "Are you alright Ceraphina?" She asks, wanting to make sure all the children are equally attended to today. Ceraphina nods and wipes any trace of tears away with the back of her hand, "Daddy says it'll get easier," she tells Soarynn, not taking her eyes off of her father and sister, "he says one day we won't be sad when we think about Mommy."

She looks up and gives Soarynn a small smile, "I don't think I can be happy today though."

Soarynn nods, resting a loving hand on top of her blonde hair, "You can be sad for as long as you want darling. No one expects you to get over it in a day or even in a year."

Ceraphina hums, "I know. I'm not like Daddy."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn hadn't expected the cemetery to be closed today.

But now that she's seen how many people have gathered outside of the fence, she's not surprised. It's the biggest crowd she's ever seen as their car pulls up to the cemetery entrance, two Peacekeepers open the gates so that their car can drive through.

Everyone is in black.

A few people wave, all their faces somber. She spots some older women sporting mourning veils while little children clutch onto their parents and watch the car drive by.

She holds Caspian a little tighter in her lap, making sure his coat is properly buttoned. It's a cold November day, cloudy and dreary, almost fitting for the occasion.

She watches Ceraphina and Celeste lean against their father, sitting on either side of them while President Snow keeps his eyes closed and his head tilted back. He must be exhausted.

The car slowly comes to a stop and Eudora is the first one out, sporting her own mourning attire, a long black coat, a black wig, and eyelashes to match. Soarynn thinks about how Livia's funeral was the hardest thing for Eudora to plan. And who could plan for something like that?

Soarynn out of all people knows how hard it is to lose a parent. No one should have to plan for something like that.

"Let's go children," Eudora calls, waving them to follow her.

Ceraphina looks up at her father before slowly sliding across the seat and out of the car, taking Eudora's hand the second her feet touch the ground. President Snow finally opens his eyes and leans down to whisper something in Celeste's ear. Her eyes widen and she nods, taking his hand once again before they both get out of the car.

"It's our turn Caspian," Soarynn says softly, making sure she's got a good hold on the youngest Snow child while she steps out of the car. She's offered a hand and manages to keep a neutral expression as she takes President Snow's hand, gracefully standing back up to her full height, "Thank you," she says.

He only nods in response before turning on his heel to lead the way.

Soarynn has never visited Livia Snow's grave so she can only follow him and watch the children. Celeste and her father stay in the front with Eudora and Celeste in the center. Soarynn and Caspian bring up the rear and she takes a quick look around and notes several Peacekeepers either following them or patrolling the perimeter of the cemetery.

Soarynn has gotten more used to their presence but seeing them with their large guns makes her anxious.

Soarynn walks a bit faster to catch up to Eudora and Ceraphina and she lowers her voice before asking her a question, "Are we...are we allowed to be with the family for this?"

Eudora keeps her gaze trained on what's ahead of her but she shakes her head, "You and I will stay back while they visit her grave."

Soarynn hums, focusing her gaze on the back of President Snow's head, his blonde curls swept back and away from his face looking so soft. She wonders if Livia ever ran her fingers through them, if she ever looked up at him so adoringly.

From what Eudora's told her, probably not.

They walk deep into the cemetery, farther than Soarynn anticipated but when she sees the sheer size of Livia's tombstone, she can see why it's so far back.

Many people in the Capitol are rich, wealthy, and elite. But you can't take your money with you when you die. Unless you're Livia Snow. Her grave isn't even a grave, it's a mausoleum with roses growing outside of it. Soarynn has seen many decrepit graves but this is not one of them. The marble stone shines as if it's brand new. They must have someone come and clean it from time to time. Soarynn knows the Capitol citizens often come to pay their respects and leave flowers as well.

The doors leading to the inside are closed and if Sosrynn remembers correctly, they're always closed to the public. Only the family is allowed inside.

President Snow and Celeste come to a halt in front of the stone structure and both of them look back at their remaining family members. Ceraphina lets go of Eudora's hand and slowly makes her way over to her father and sister, reaching up to grab her father's other hand. Soarynn takes in a shaky breath before slowly approaching Livia's gravesite, Caspian feeling so heavy in her arms all of a sudden as if there's a weight on her chest.

Caspian reaches out for his father the second he's within reach, "Momma," he says, pointing at the doors. President Snow's face is grim but he nods, "I can take him." Normally, Soarynn would hesitate, not wanting to burden her employer but today is not the day to question his orders so she silently hands the small boy off to his father who holds him as if he weighs nothing.

"Let's go visit your mother," he says to the children, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key.

Soarynn takes this as her sign to leave and gives the girls one last encouraging nod before she walks back to where Eudora is standing. They both watch the Snow family make their way inside the mausoleum, all of them scuffling behind one another. "It never gets easier," Eudora says with a sigh, "last year was horrible if you can imagine."

Soarynn certainly can imagine how terrible it must have been, the first year is always the hardest. "He seems tired," Soarynn notes, "his patience is thinner today than it usually is."

Eudora lets out a dry laugh, "If he had his way, we wouldn't even come and visit her. He does this for the children, it helps them understand and move on. But I know he wants nothing more than to move past this."

Soarynn can't imagine wanting to move past the death of her husband if she should ever marry. She'd spend every day mourning his loss and yet President Snow looks like he'd rather be at a meeting.

"I suppose we all grieve differently," Soarynn decides.

Soarynn looks over at the fence where a crowd has gathered, watching them and the Snow family with curious eyes and a few with cameras. "Is there always a crowd?" Eudora perks up and nods, "Oh yes. Last year it was even bigger, that's why we closed down the cemetery today, it was far too chaotic the first time."

It must be terribly strange to have people watching your every move while you mourn the loss of a family member. The Snows are already under a microscope, and Livia's death has only increased people's opinions about them.

"Is it alright if I walk around for a bit?" Soarynn asks, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, "I feel a bit out of place just standing here." Eudora gives her shoulder a gentle pat, meant to be comforting, "Of course, dear."

Soarynn offers her a tight-lipped smile before she begins her journey to the far side of the cemetery where many elite members of society have been buried. While none of their graves compare to Livia's, they're still monumental, not to mention incredibly expensive. It's one thing to afford a nice house or apartment while you're living, but to afford a tombstone when you're dead is another thing entirely.

Soarynn wouldn't care if she was buried in a wooden box, but that's just the way things are.

She passes several plots reserved for entire families before she stops in front of the familiar plot, only space for one more grave.

Hers.

She walks up to the graves of both her parents, dusting off any dirt or leaves from the tops. Her fingertips drag over the engraved words on their headstones.

Cera Nightingale - Beloved Wife & Mother "Till we meet again in the meadow."

Glen Nightingale - Beloved Husband & Father "My grief has been the souvenir of our love."

What will hers read?

Beloved Daughter & Cat Owner?

She can't imagine what will happen when Petunia gets older, she's all she has left of her father, and her family for that matter.

"I miss you," she whispers, resting a hand against her father's headstone, "I miss you every time I close my eyes."

Soarynn hadn't known loss until she lost her father. It's terrifying to love something that death can so easily touch.

Soarynn stays there for what feels like an eternity until she hears a small voice calling out her name, "Soarynn!"

Soarynn quickly wipes any trace of tears or emotion off of her face before turning around to face Ceraphina who's run up to her, her cheeks red from the cold. She doesn't look like she's been crying her eyes out which is a good thing she hopes. "Hello darling," she greets her, brushing a stray hair from her face, "how're you feeling?"

Ceraphina shrugs, looking around at the surrounding graves, "I'm okay. We got to pick the roses and put them on Mommy's grave and then I got to talk to her and tell her I turned five and then Celeste talked to her and said she turned four. Then Caspian said something about Lenny except I can't remember the rest. Then Daddy whispered some words and now here we are."

Soarynn looks up to find that the entire Snow family has made their way over to her, Eudora included. Ceraphina peers around Soarynn's legs and her eyes zero in on her parent's tombstones, "Did you know these people?"

Soarynn hums, "These are my parents graves."

She watches Ceraphina slowly approach the tombstones, her small hand resting on her mother's stone, "Do you come to visit them a lot?" Soarynn shakes her head, more guilt eating away at her heart, "No," she answers, "I should visit more often but I don't."

She watches out of the corner of her eyes as Celeste lets go of her father's hand and reluctantly walks over to her big sister, her eyes scanning the engraved words. "Is this about the meadow song?"

Soarynn tilts her head at the question, "The meadow song?"

"Uh-huh. The meadow song with the bed of grass. It says: 'Till we meet again in the meadow.' Is that what it's talking about?"

Soarynn honestly hadn't thought of that before. She'd visited her mother's grave countless times when her father was still alive but she never really considered the meaning behind the words that were the last bits of Cera Nightingale. Leave it to a four-year-old to put the pieces together before she did.

"That's a nice way to think of it," she finally says.

The girls whisper a few things to each other and then turn back around, "Can we leave them flowers?"

A smile creeps onto Soarynn's face at their sweet request. She brought flowers in the beginning after her father died, but she stopped after a while. Stopped trying, stopped trying to heal that hole in her heart. But these girls might just be able to fix it.

"We sure can."

The girls smile and take each other's hands to go and pick some flowers growing near the fence. Soarynn watches them and feels his presence next to her, both of them grieving different losses today, "Do you think they're proud of you?"

Soarynn swallows at his question, it's a loaded one but she never had to worry about making her parents proud. That was never the most important thing to her family. "I think they're cheering me on," she answers, finally looking up at him. Even dressed in all black, President Snow is so very handsome. His gaze never wavers away from his girls but she can see how emotionally exhausting this has all been for him.

"I don't think Livia is cheering me on," he says, shaking his head, "I think she's watching me and thinking about what a failure I am to our children."

Soarynn frowns and rests a hand on his arm before she can stop herself and he finally tears his gaze away from the girls to look down at her, piercing blue meeting stormy gray, "You're not a failure," she says softly, "you're a father, and you're trying your best. Just like my father did. He certainly didn't have it all figured out on the first day."

President Snow looks over at her father's tombstone and he furrows his brows, "Your father was a good man. He had it much harder than me, raising an infant while also mourning the death of his wife and yet he never once thought about hiring a nanny. He said you deserved better, that you deserved his attention and he was right," his eyes hold a hint of what might be adoration but Soarynn isn't sure, "you do deserve better Soarynn."

She could blame it on the wind or the cold but Soarynn feels tears burning in her eyes, "You're a good father," she insists, "I've seen it with my own eyes, you love your children and you're trying to do the best by them, even if it means hiring a nanny. Admitting your weaknesses is the first step to getting stronger. You can't be there for them all the time so you found someone who can. That doesn't make you a monster, it makes you human."

She swears she can see a tear roll down his cheek but her vision is pretty blurry from her own tears.

"Sometimes I worry the grief might never leave," he admits, blinking away any possible tears, "not that we had much love for each other to begin with."

Soarynn can hear the girls running back to them, giggling while holding flowers no doubt to decorate her parent's graves. They both look over and watch the girls run to Eudora first, showing her and then Caspian, who's hugged to her hip the flowers. Caspian smiles and reaches down to touch the petals. So young and yet so much life ahead of him, ahead of all of them really.

"The grief might end someday," Soarynn says, "but the love never will."

| Part 5. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{ Part 6. }

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hayakawalove · 1 year ago

Text

Wisteria and Ciabatta

Part Two

Summary: Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You.

A/N: I'm not really sure where this came from. I don't expect it to get a huge reaction, just because it's like way niche. But I couldn't get this out of my head. I am like pretty certain there will be a part two with smut, but this first chapter is just very sweet. This chapter can be read alone, you won't need to read the next one if you don't want to. Suguru is a loserboy in this but I like him that way. Enjoy!

CW: SFW, food, fluff

W/C: 5,608

The forest was quieter than usual today, he couldn’t help but notice. Suguru had become well acquainted with the sounds of the forest over the years. He traversed them for work often, always traveling from town to town to sell his flowers and bread. Flowers from his own backyard, and bread made to perfection from his own two hands. He enjoyed the way people's faces lit up when they saw the beautiful flora or when the food passed their lips. Suguru had to go out of his way today, venturing out further than normal. He didn’t sell as much as he wanted to in the towns near his home, so he figured he may as well see if anyone else would be interested.

Lavender, Hydrangea, Yarrow.

Suguru ran the list through his mind repeatedly. The basket he carried beside him held heaps of flowers, all trimmed to perfection. Along with the flowers he had several loaves of bread.

Dutch, Rye, French.

His footsteps slow when he notices a cluster of homes come into view. It was a small town, one he had never been to before. There couldn’t have been more than 50 buildings, but they were all full evident by the smoke rising from each chimney. His feet fall onto the stone path as he makes his way to the first house. When he knocks, he plasters a smile on his face. He had danced this routine many times before, always donning a careful mask when interacting with potential customers.

“Hello?” An old man opens the door carefully. He must have been twice as short as Suguru.

“Hello, I’m selling flowers and bread. Would you be interested in buying any?”

The man opens his mouth to decline when a woman’s voice sounds out behind him.

“Who is that?”

She hobbles into view, situating herself beside what Suguru can only assume is her husband.

“This fellow is selling flowers and bread, I was just going to-“

“You never buy me flowers anymore!”

Suguru averts his gaze, training them on the floor below. He doesn’t mind being there while they argue, but he’s learned that an unwanted ear can make people uncomfortable.

The old man grumbles before walking away further into the house to grab his money. Suguru can feel her eyes wandering over him. He digs his hand into his basket and produces a Hydrangea.

“On the house.” He speaks quietly, winking at her.

Her face flushes as she takes the flower, admiring the color. Her husband comes back and counts his cash before handing it to Suguru who doesn’t bother counting it. He grabs a heap of flowers, all three types tossed in, before handing them to the man.

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru smiles before stepping back, watching him give the flowers to his wife.

An adorable moment by nature. It almost feels too vulnerable to see the look of love on the old woman’s face as she receives the gift.

Suguru continues on to the next house, selling flowers and bread as he goes. He went to every house in town until there was only one remaining.

He walks up to the dwelling, knocking on the door and waits patiently for whoever’s living there.

The door opens, your body standing there.

If you asked Suguru a day ago what he thought the most beautiful thing was he would say a dicentra or maybe even tulips. That was before he saw you. Your cheeks like petals, soft and plump. You also had eyes that shined brighter than the early morning dew that clung to his garden. You were magnificent. You were the most beautiful flower he had ever seen.

“Hello?”

Suguru never found himself speechless. Throughout his life he had found himself in a multitude of situations that would warrant it, but he wasn’t, not even once. He had trained himself on how to smile and talk to people, he prided himself on it. No one was too hard to talk to.

Until he met you.

His lips refused to cooperate with him, throat muddled up. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m selling homemade bread and flowers.”

Idiot.

That’s what he decided to say? Not even a proper hello first?

“Oh, lovely. I was hoping to make something for dinner but didn’t have anything around the house. How much for the bread?” You ask, digging in your pocket for money.

Suguru tears his eyes from you, a painful task, and opens his basket. Most of his inventory was gone. He did have a loaf of Dutch bread at the bottom of the basket, the sight of it mocking him. He couldn’t give you that. It was no longer fresh, and it was cold to the touch. He couldn’t give you it.

You pull out your hand, palm cupped with money.

“I’m out of bread.” He finds himself saying.

Your brow raises. A beat passes before you speak.

“Okay, what about flowers?”

He wordlessly thanks your graciousness. In his basket he finds two Yarrows. All of his flowers were beautiful, but he found himself cursing God for not making anything more beautiful.

Suguru holds them up to you, fighting back a whimper when your hand grazes him as you pluck the stems from his grasp.

“How much?”

“You don’t have to pay.”

He would never force you to pay for anything, especially not something that could never rival your beauty.

He watches your lips slowly morph into a smile.

“You’re an interesting merchant.”

He’s sure you’re making fun of him, but he doesn’t care. His cheeks feel hot as he looks into your eyes.

“I was planning on visiting this village again tomorrow, I will bring more bread then.”

He wasn’t planning on visiting this village again until now. It had been a random stop he never was going to make again.

Your eyes flit down to the Yarrow, admiring them.

“You know where to find me.”

~~~

Suguru’s feet hurt when he finally arrives back home. He wants to go to bed but he can’t. Not when he needs to make bread for you. Usually he had extra dough laying around, but he didn’t. Even if he did, he would’ve preferred to make it fresh. He works tirelessly as he prepares the dough, pouring all his love into it. Flour cakes under his fingernails, his palms hurting from kneading the dough for so long.

He wouldn’t dream of complaining. Not when he knew who this was for. He didn’t even catch your name. Once he knew it, he would spell it in the stars so everyone did too.

Suguru barely gets any sleep. It was a concoction of baking and nerves. His house smells like bread while he walks around, preparing for his long journey ahead. He searched in his kitchen before finding a small jar of homemade strawberry jam. One of his neighbors, a kind elderly widow, had made it for him. They often traded breads and jams, occasionally sharing them outside when the weather was right.

Once everything was ready, he placed it all in his basket before setting off into the forest again.

The walk was way faster than he remembered it being. His mind was too clouded with thoughts of you. He enters the town, making his way directly to your house first thing. He wasn’t even really sure if he was going to go to the other houses after.

The door rattles with his fist, and he wills the butterflies going off in his body to settle down.

If he had at all been worried your beauty was a fluke, which he wasn’t, his worries certainly died down the moment he looked at you for a second time.

You’re just as beautiful the second time around as you were the first.

Your chest was heaving with sweat lining your forehead. You must’ve been hard at work. Doing what, he wondered?

“It’s you.”

“It’s me.” He responds with a smile. “Much more prepared this time, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t want to tell you he stayed up until the sun rose to prepare your bread.

A sly grin breaks across your face. You lean against the door frame, your eyes sliding down his figure. Suguru can feel his skin tingling with each inch your eyes covered.

“What have you brought for me today?”

Suguru holds up his basket and reveals the fresh bread. It was a simple loaf of wheat bread, and although it was basic, it was renowned as his best selling one. He feels his heart flutter the second the scent reaches your nose, your face lightening up.

“That smells wonderful.”

“Tastes wonderful too, or so I’ve been told.”

You open the door a bit more, revealing the rest of the house behind you. It was humble, an aboad that was probably common in these parts of town.

“Why don’t you come in and share it with me?”

The offer stops Suguru in his tracks. Out of all the things you could have said to him, he wasn’t expecting that.

The first thought that crosses his mind is flattery. You want to eat with him?

The second feeling that follows after is worry. You want to eat with him, and he’s a stranger.

“You hardly know me.” He speaks.

The idea that you would open your door to just anyone frightened him a bit. What if it was someone with bad intentions?

“What’s your name?”

You don’t look afraid, even though Suguru feels you should be.

“Suguru.”

You toss his name across your brain several times. You say your name back and step away, letting him come in.

“Now you know my name and I know yours. Share it with me?”

He's touched by your kindness, but still mildly unnerved at the idea you might do this for someone with unsavory motives.

It’s hard to refuse your offer, so he finds himself stepping in after you. The close proximity whisks his breath away but you hardly notice. You don’t even spare him a glance as you head over to your table.

You sit down and look up at him, waiting for him to join you. He places the basket on the table before rummaging around, pulling the loaf out.

“I also brought more flowers, in case you were interested.”

“Will you let me pay this time?”

“Maybe.” No, he wouldn’t.

Suguru didn’t need any form of payment. As long as he got to see the joy on your face again, that was all he needed.

You grab a knife and begin to slide through the loaf, slicing several pieces for the two of you. He wondered if you were able to tell he made the bread fresh for you. Did the warmth of it tingle your fingers? Could you feel the love that seeped from it?

Suguru pulls out the jam and sets it aside.

“What’s that?” You ask.

“My neighbor made it. It’s strawberry.”

You pick up the jar, eyes gliding across the glass in amazement.

“Where do you live? The people in this town don’t bake bread or make jam. Maybe I should move to your town.” You joke.

Don’t say that, he thinks. If you say that, he might beg you to.

He hardly knows you, yet he’s finding himself completely entranced by you. He aches to learn more.

“A town further South. A couple hours at most.” He keeps his eyes trained down on your hands, watching as you spread the jam on the bread.

Only when the silence stretches on for too long does he rip his eyes from your fingers, looking up.

He doesn’t know whether he should be startled or not at the face you’re making. Your eyes are open wide, like you’re looking through him.

“Hours?” You repeat.

Suguru nods, his brows raising.

“I didn’t see a horse.”

“I walked.”

You stutter a bit before placing the knife down, pushing the plate in the middle of the table. Suguru’s eyes drift down, the intimacy of sharing a dish not lost on him.

“I could never walk that long.” You murmur, picking up a piece of bread, raising it to your lips.

Suguru tries not to stare at the way your lips part, but it’s difficult.

“It’s not that bad.” He pulls his piece up to him, taking a bite.

“Not everyone has such long legs.” You say around the food.

Suguru’s mouth perks up, a smile gracing his features. He was used to people commenting on his height, but he felt an extra ounce of pride when you were the one saying it.

You mumble around the food, hand flying up to cover your mouth.

“Suguru, this is wonderful!” Excitement seeps from your words and Suguru’s heart jumps.

“Thank you.” He dips his head down, suddenly bashful.

The two of you share the meal, words flowing flawlessly between you.

“It’s a shame that my father isn’t here, I’m sure he would love this as much as I do.” You comment.

Suguru leans back, not sure if this is a touchy subject.

“He’s just out of town today, I’ll share some with him when he comes back. Maybe.” You smirk.

“What does he do for work?”

“He helps people get their farms up and running. I think he traveled to help a young couple get theirs set up.”

Suguru begins to daydream about owning a farm with you. Would you adore his flowers as much as he did? Would you let him do all the work? He wouldn’t mind it, he preferred it.

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help the infatuation that grew in his heart.

Besides, Suguru never was one to love normally or calmly.

“I was trying to clean the house before he returns, but I must admit I’m having a hard time reaching things.”

“Would you allow me to help? I’ve got long legs, you know.”

A song floats over to his ears, a song built on your laughter. He could get used to that.

“I couldn’t make you do that. I already dragged you inside to eat with me. I’m sure you have much more important things to be doing.”

Never, he thinks. Nothing would be more important than this.

“It’s okay.” He says plainly.

He watches as you seem to be debating inside your head. You give up, standing up to carry the dishes to the sink.

“I would love help changing out the candles.” You say sheepishly.

Suguru waits as you leave to go find the extra candles, his head racing with thoughts. After you finished, there would be no reason for him to stay. He would have to go back home. He wanted to stay and talk with you more. Your words facisnated him. He felt like a child, the way he longed to hear you tell him stories. He didn’t want to go home. Not when being with you felt more like home than his own ever did.

“I found them.” You speak, snapping him out of it.

You guide him around the house, showing him every spot that needed a new candle.

It should be a simple task for him. He finds it increasingly difficult, however. He feels your eyes bore into him each time he reaches up, making his heart pound. Even though it’s easy to do, he’s just replacing old candles, he almost feels like he’s never done anything so hard before. He can feel the way your eyes track his movement, almost making it impossible to focus. His linen shirt suddenly feels too hot, as he tries to keep his eyes on his hands.

“There, how does that look?”

You stare at the metal candle holder for a minute before nodding, a soft hum coming from your lips.

“It looks wonderful, Suguru.”

He decides no one has ever said his name as beautifully as you do.

He steps back, following you towards the kitchen. He can tell that he needs to leave, but a small part of him is upset at that fact.

“Will you be in town anytime soon? I’d love to purchase more bread, if that’s alright.” You stare at him as he gathers his things.

He nods, and looks down at you.

“I can come back in several days.”

“Fantastic, I’ll be looking forward to it.” You say happily.

So will I, Suguru thinks.

~~~

Suguru leans back, watching you chew a new recipe he tried for bread. So far, so good, he thinks. Your lips are played in a smile as you taste it, swallowing it with a sigh.

“I don't think you can make something bad.”

“Is that a challenge?” Suguru jokes.

“One you’d fail, I’m sure.”

Your flattery causes his heart to race, a throb settling deep in his chest.

“I wish I could bake like you.” You say.

“I could teach you, if you’d like. It isn’t that hard.”

Your eyes flash with excitement and Suguru has to swallow the knot that forms in his throat.

“You can?”

Yes, anything for you.

“Sure. I can bring the ingredients tomorrow.”

You jump up and down in your seat, chattering away to him about all that you want to do with the bread. Are you aware of how you make his stomach twist? He thinks there’s no way you are.

~~~

When Suguru comes the next morning he has a burlap sack filled to the brim with ingredients, all for your bread. You open the door the second he knocks it, taking him by surprise.

“I apologize, I didn’t sleep much last night.” You say all giddy, opening up the door more.

Suguru steps inside and follows you to your table. You already have it set up according to how he told you. There’s bowls and spoons, all perfectly set. His hair is already tied back, so all he needs to do is roll up his sleeves.

He stands next to you, reading out what ingredients to add next. He watches over your shoulder as you eagerly mix, chuckling to himself when some of it spills out the sides.

“Slowly, sweetheart.” He murmurs.

You apologize quietly, following his order of slowing your hand down.

It was looking good, but now was the time to start getting your hands dirty.

“The next step is to knead it. You do this by placing it on the table, and pressing your hands into it.” Suguru explains, watching you scrap the bowl and plop the dough in front of you.

“Mmm like this?” You ask, folding it over itself.

“Just like that, a little more pressure.” He adds.

Without even thinking, he reaches his arms on either side of you, correcting your form to knead it harder. His hands hover over yours, pressing your palms down more against the plush dough.

“You have big hands.” You chuckle, and suddenly Suguru’s aware of what he’s doing.

“Oh, my bad. I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s okay. You should keep your hands there, so I don't mess up.” You correct him.

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking at him. His face is unbearingly close to yours, heat from your cheeks radiating off and scorching his face. He looks deep into your eyes before you’re quickly looking back down, watching the bread below your hands.

Suguru berates his heart as he helps you, hoping it slows down. That moment with you kept repeating in his mind, over and over again.

He snaps out of it when you squeal, pulling the bread from the oven. The top of it is perfectly golden, the smell of it filling your tiny kitchen.

“Look, Suguru!” You say, placing it down.

He looks over the top of your head and smiles.

“It looks good, let’s wait for it to cool before we try it.”

He would have liked to wait a little longer, afraid it would burn your tongue, but he couldn’t say no with the way you were tilting back and forth, begging to cut into it. Suguru takes the liberty, pouring the bread from the pan before sliding a knife down the side of it. It cuts smoother than butter, steam wafting up from it.

“Okay, let’s try it.” Suguru raises a small piece, holding it in his hand as he lifts it to your mouth.

The heat soaks into the pads of his finger tips, but he’d much rather get burned than you. You look down and blow on the bread, Suguru has to force himself not to gasp at the air caressing his skin. You look up at him and take a bite, smiling as crumbs dust your lips.

“It’s so good!” You murmur around the mouth full of food.

Suguru uses his other hand to lift up a separate piece, taking a slight nibble. It was fantastic. Sweeter than the bread he made, he wondered if that was just because you were the one who created it.

“You may put me out of business.” He jokes.

You pull your piece from his hand, holding it tightly next to your face. A shame, he thinks. He would’ve preferred for you to keep eating from his palm. Did that say something about him?

“I might, you better watch over your back.” You say, eating the rest of your bread with a grin.

“I will.” Suguru says back, treasuring the way the food melts on his tongue.

~~~

“Hey Suguru?”

The two of you have settled into a comfortable routine, as he had visited a couple of more times, always sitting in your kitchen to share a plate of bread with you.

He flicks his eyes up to you before looking back down.

“Is the forest dangerous?” You finish.

Suguru takes a moment to think. He’s never thought about it before. His feet have carried him through the trees for countless years.

“Not really. The only thing you have to look out for is bandits.”

He takes a moment to appreciate the way you’re gaping at him.

“I’ve never seen any though. Just know they’re out there.”

“They’d be a fool to try to rob you.” You mutter under your breath.

Suguru lets out a quiet chuckle. Any reason to point out his height, you’d take it.

“As children we’re warned not to go in too deep.” You mumble.

“I can bring you if you like? They have some Gardenia’s there, not too deep in. We can go and get them if you want?”

“You’d keep me safe from bandits?”

Yes, you don’t even have to ask. He’d go toe to toe for you.

“Of course.”

The more he got to know you, the more Suguru grew to like you, really like you. It was no longer infatuation, it grew into something more beautiful and large.

He notices you dip your head down at the tone of his soft voice. You have a few habits he’s picked up on. One of them is every reaction you have to his words. You like to poke and prod him, but the second he pushes back or uses a specific tone you look away, teeth nibbling on your lip. It’s adorable, he thinks.

~~~

You both decide to go to the forest tomorrow. He decides to stay in your town overnight because there would be no point in making the long trek back to his only to come back tomorrow morning. You offered a bed in your house, knowing your father would not have it, but Suguru declined. It would be improper, he told you. He had never felt his body fight so hard against him before. Even though it’s hard for him to say no, he doesn’t relent. He ends up staying at the only Inn in town. It was a normal house, with five extra rooms spread out. His host was a sweet older woman who insisted on helping carry his bags to his room. The act pained him, but he knew better than to tell a woman no.

As he lay in bed that night he stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of you curling around his mind.

You were here, in this town.

Suguru wakes up earlier than you do. His eyes crack open the second the sun shines through, his body restless. There was so much to show you, he didn’t know where to begin. Along with that, he felt the early onsets of fear begin to take hold. He had never thought about bandits before, but now that you mention it he couldn’t shake the idea. What if there were some when you went out? He wasn’t afraid of taking care of you. He knew he could do that. He just didn’t want you to see something ugly. He feared he would never forgive himself.

Suguru walks to your house, stopping a short ways away outside to linger near a bunch of trees. He didn’t want to intrude, and he had no idea what you’ve told your father about your relationship with him.

What was your relationship with him?

Friendly, he thought. You had always welcomed him with a smile. However there were lingering touches and stolen glances over fresh bread, conversations floating across your tongues easily. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. There was a chance you thought nothing of him, treating him as you would anyone else.

“Suguru!”

His head shoots up the second his name falls from your lips.

“I apologize for making you wait.” You say, stopping short in front of him.

You look like you got together hastily, sleep marks imbedded in your flesh with several of your hairs out of place.

Did you know how perfect you were?

“I wasn’t waiting long, are you ready to go?”

Suguru smiles at the excitement spreading across your face. He knew the flowers were in bloom, but he wasn’t sure they could rival you.

As the two of you walk, you take careful calculated steps as you notice the weather. It was sunny without being too temperamental. You could hear laughter of the village children carrying over the wind to you. Suguru listened to you as you rattled on, occasionally dropping his input, but he much preferred to listen.

When the trees started to get thicker Suguru noticed you start to walk closer to him. It was cute, the way you looked towards him for shelter and protection.

“I think this is where I saw them last time.” Suguru says aloud, stopping to the side and looking around.

“They’re bright red, so they're easy to spot.”

He sees excitement curl in your eyes at the prospect of finding some hidden treasure, even if that treasure was just flowers.

Suguru locates them after several minutes, grabbing your hand and leading you towards it. There were several bushes laid together, all of them overflowing with the red petals.

He smiles to himself at the gasp you let out, your fingers tentatively reaching forward to kiss the leaves.

“Pretty, right? I always think about taking some home with me so I can plant them but I can never bring myself to do it. They look much better out here anyhow.”

Suguru sits next to you as you stare at the bush. He finds it cute that you’re interested in his interests. If you asked, he would tell you anything you wanted to know about plants or baking. Suguru wasn’t an expert in everything, but he was an expert in those.

“Suguru, thank you for showing me these.” Your voice trails off, still focused on what was in front of you.

He smiles and picks a red Gardenia, careful placing it behind your ear.

“Anytime.”

Your hand trembles as you reach up to touch the flower on your ear. The forest was silent, save for the sounds of birds and bugs, complete serenity falling over you.

The only way Suguru’s able to tell that time is passing is by the view of the sun, now completely overhead, shining through the canopy of trees around you. Neither of you wanted to leave, so instead you lay on your backs, looking at the trees above you. The leaves and sun paint beautiful pictures, yellow shapes being shined upon your skin.

“Hey Suguru?”

Suguru hums, turning his head to the side to look at you.

Your arm is outstretched, holding the flower he gave you in front of you. Your fingers are twirling it around, spinning the flower over and over. Suguru’s dizzy at the sight, but he can’t tell if it’s because of your beauty or the the spinning.

“They say flowers have a language of their own, don't they?”

Suguru’s lashes flit as he memorizes the lines on your face, wanting to capture this moment.

“They do.”

“Do you know the meanings of flowers?”

“Some of them.”

Suguru sits up and pulls the tie from his hair, letting the black silk cacoon him. He looks over his shoulder back at you, but you’re too preoccupied with the sight of the twirling.

“What does this one mean?”

Suguru ponders for a moment, unsure whether or not he should tell you. Would it come off too strong? He couldn’t bare the thought of lying to you though. He’s a strong man so he fights the urge to look away from you when he says,

“Secret love.”

He swears the forest ceases all sound at that moment, that or the beating of his heart is far louder than anything else.

“Is that so?” You ask, peeking around the bright flower to look at him.

He hums, waiting to see if you would have a negative reaction. Would you get up and leave him here, never to allow him back into your home? He wouldn’t blame you.

A demure smile spreads across your face, sitting up until you’re laying on your elbow. You bring the flower to your face, taking in a deep breath before you sit up completely. Suguru tracks your movements carefully.

“In that case,” you say, sliding the flower behind Suguru’s ear, the bright pop of red constrasting with his dark hair.

Suguru swears his heart stops beating in that moment, his body completely rigid with surprise. You knew the meaning of the flower, and you were giving it to him?

A silent understanding flows between you two, Suguru no longer on edge as the seconds pass. You both are aware now, your feelings as out in the open as they could be without physically saying it. It was funny, the flower meant secret love but his admiration for you was no longer a secret.

“It’s a shame we can’t stay out here forever.” You say.

You lay back down, closing your eyes.

Suguru silently agrees, leaning back until he’s laying next to you, much closer this time. He wonders what’s going to happen next. Would he be able to court you properly, would your father accept him?

He hears you shuffle around before your face pops into view, blocking out the sun above him. His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you. You looked nothing short of an Angel, golden light haloing around your head as you smile down at him.

“I know you’re busy where you live, but why don't we meet in this forest once a week?” You say.

“Or I can walk down and meet you closer to your village, that might be easier.”

No, he couldn’t handle the idea of you walking these forests alone, or walking that long at all.

“Let’s meet here.” Suguru agrees, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek.

Neither of you want to be the one to look away first. So instead, you just continue to gaze into the others eyes.

Suguru hears an older man call your name just outside the sanctity of the forest. It must be your father, and by the sounds of it he was angry. Probably upset that dinner hadn’t been made yet, if Suguru had to come up with a reason. He didn’t want to dislike your father, after all he had a hand in creating you, but he didn’t appreciate the way he treated you.

“I suppose I’ll have to leave now…” you trail off, your voice caked in sadness.

Suguru’s grip on your cheek tightens, and he resolves to do something he’s never done before, yet dreamed of countless times.

He sits up and leans in, his lips ghosting yours.

“Suguru…” You whisper, looking into his eyes, the movement of your lips tickling his.

“May I?” Just this once, he wants to beg. Let me taste you just this once.

He waits for an answer that doesn’t come. Instead, you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him softly. It was everything he had dreamed of. Your lips were soft, the lingering taste of the sweet strawberry jam he always brought to you mingling with his own.

If only he could stop time.

If only nothing existed but the two of you.

As soon as it starts, it’s over. You’re pulling away, your eyes flickering open to look at him. He can hardly breathe under your gaze. His fingers itch with the need to grab you, press you against him, show the love he’s been feeling all this time but has been too afraid to say aloud.

Suguru’s lips tingle as he watches you slowly rise to your feet. You dip your head in acknowledgment, tossing over your shoulder.

“Coming, father!”

Stay, he thinks. Stay.

“Goodbye Suguru.” You murmur, giving him a smile.

He watches you scamper out of the forest, feeling like you took his heart with you.

He isn’t sure he’s ever going to want it back.

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#my writing #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #suguru imagine #suguru geto imagine #geto imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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