#whoever wifes me up I will cook for you every day if you promise to always do the dishes and unload the dishwasher
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Another day of enduring the Toils (unloading the dishwasher and cleaning dishes in the sink) and the Horrors (knowing I’ll just have to do it all again in like three days)
#i’m trying to be so brave about it#whoever wifes me up I will cook for you every day if you promise to always do the dishes and unload the dishwasher#it’s truly my ADHD Achilles Heel
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The Housemaid by Freida McFadden
Genre: Fiction, Mystery, Psychological Thriller
The Housemaid
“Welcome to the family,” Nina Winchester says as I shake her elegant, manicured hand. I smile politely, gazing around the marble hallway. Working here is my last chance to start fresh. I can pretend to be whoever I like. But I’ll soon learn that the Winchesters’ secrets are far more dangerous than my own…
Every day I clean the Winchesters’ beautiful house top to bottom. I collect their daughter from school. And I cook a delicious meal for the whole family before heading up to eat alone in my tiny room on the top floor.
I try to ignore how Nina makes a mess just to watch me clean it up. How she tells strange lies about her own daughter. And how her husband Andrew seems more broken every day. But as I look into Andrew’s handsome brown eyes, so full of pain, it’s hard not to imagine what it would be like to live Nina’s life. The walk-in closet, the fancy car, the perfect husband.
I only try on one of Nina’s pristine white dresses once. Just to see what it’s like. But she soon finds out… and by the time I realize my attic bedroom door only locks from the outside, it’s far too late.
But I reassure myself: the Winchesters don’t know who I really am.
They don’t know what I’m capable of…
An unbelievably twisty read that will have you glued to the pages late into the night. Anyone who loves The Woman in the Window, The Wife Between Us and The Girl on the Train won’t be able to put this down!
The Housemaid's Secret
As he continues showing me their incredible penthouse apartment, I have a terrible feeling about the woman behind closed doors. But I can't risk losing this job – not if I want to keep my darkest secret safe . . .
It's hard to find an employer who doesn't ask too many questions about my past. So I thank my lucky stars that the Garricks miraculously give me a job, cleaning their stunning penthouse with views across the city and preparing fancy meals in their shiny kitchen. I can work here for a while, stay quiet until I get what I want. It's almost perfect. But I still haven't met Mrs Garrick, or seen inside the guest bedroom. I'm sure I hear her crying. I notice spots of blood around the neck of her white nightgowns when I'm doing laundry. And one day I can't help but knock on the door. When it gently swings open, what I see inside changes everything...
That's when I make a promise. After all, I've done this before. I can protect Mrs. Garrick while keeping my own secrets locked up safe. Douglas Garrick has done wrong. He is going to pay. It's simply a question of how far I'm willing to go...
The Housemaid Is Watching
“You must be our new neighbors!” Mrs. Lowell gushes and waves across the picket fence. I clutch my daughter’s hand and smile back: but the second Mrs. Lowell sees my husband a strange expression crosses her face. In that moment I make a promise. We finally have a family home. My past is far, far behind us. And I’ll do anything to keep it that way… I used to clean other people’s houses—now, I can’t believe this home is actually mine. The charming kitchen, the quiet cul-de-sac, the huge yard where my kids can play. My husband and I saved for years to give our children the life they deserve. Even though I’m wary of our new neighbor Mrs. Lowell, when she invites us over for dinner it’s our chance to make friends. Her maid opens the door wearing a white apron, her hair in a tight bun. I know exactly what it’s like to be in her shoes. But her cold stare gives me chills… The Lowells’ maid isn’t the only strange thing on our street. I’m sure I see a shadowy figure watching us. My husband leaves the house late at night. And when I meet a woman who lives across the way, her words chill me to the bone: Be careful of your neighbors. Did I make a terrible mistake moving my family here? I thought I’d left my darkest secrets behind. But could this quiet suburban street be the most dangerous place of all?
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Fool-Proof Plan
Pairing: Erwin x reader
Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU
Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play
Word count: 4.6K
Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.
Masterlist
Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.
There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.
“So, you just take pictures?”
“Yes.”
“And people respond to it?”
“Yes.”
“Alright but why?”
The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.
It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.
“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”
“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.
“I’ll call you every day.”
It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable.
Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.
“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.
Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.
Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.
Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.
It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.
This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.
One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.
“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”
“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”
The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”
So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.
But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.
The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.
Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.
You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.
You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.
Something stops that from happening.
Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.
Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears.
Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.
After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.
Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.
You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.
Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”
You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”
You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.
“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.
“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”
The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.
“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.
Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.
He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.
You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”
Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer.
“Oh?”
Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.
“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“
You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.
“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”
“I-I mean...yeah…”
“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”
He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.
“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”
You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.
“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”
“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.
“Good girl.”
Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt.
“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir.”
His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.
Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.
“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”
“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.
As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.
“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”
You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.
“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”
Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.
Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.
“Erwin wai-“
And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.
“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.
He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.
You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.
He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.
The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.
“I missed you too.”
Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.
“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”
He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”
Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”
Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”
His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”
He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily.
It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.
“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.
When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.
His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”
The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.
Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.
Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.
“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”
He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”
“No- you have a degradation kink.”
“Yes, that too.”
Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”
Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.
“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.
“It’s not?”
“No!”
You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.
“Did you really think I didn’t notice?”
“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”
“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”
#erwin smut#erwin smith#erwin x reader#erwin x you#aot smut#attack on titan erwin#shingeki no kyoujin levi#hange zöe#tw size difference#tw size kink#erwin snk#aot levi#levi ackerman#tw manhandling#erwin smith x you#erwin smith x reader#snk smut#snk fanfiction#shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction#tw hair pulling#tw dumbification#tw choking#tw breath play
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TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 10-14
Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 10-14 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)
Scene 10
It was the third day. The sun had set entirely, and Elmyra hadn't returned home yet. Aerith hadn't eaten anything after the bread and soup from noon. What should she do if she became any hungrier? Should she head downstairs to search for food? But suppose she did that at her convenience without asking her? In that case, Elmyra might dislike her for it — After thinking about things like that, there was an indication of the door opening.
"It's me," the grumpy voice of Elmyra could be heard.
"I'll be prepping the food right away."
"Okayyyy."
However, there was no response. As Aerith sat down on the chair and waited quietly, the noise and the whiff from the cooking wafted over. Aerith then took out a collapsible table from the closet and set it up, imitating how Elmyra does it. Eventually, Elmyra came upstairs with a tray of a warm bean dish and bread.
"Thanks for waiting."
"Ahh!!"
Seeing Elmyra, Aerith shrieked involuntarily. A sizable plaster was stuck on her right eyebrow and the outer corner of her eye.
"I had a little fall. Don't worry about it."
After transferring the food from the tray to the table, Elmyra mumbled something from her mouth and then started eating. It seems that she doesn't want to talk about it in detail. If that's the case...
"Thank you for the food!"
Aerith started eating as cheerfully as possible.
"It's delicious!"
"It's canned food."
"Canned food is delicious."
"Whoever made it would probably be glad to hear it, perhaps."
"Who made this?"
"A Shinra factory. Well then, have your meal quietly."
After hearing that the canned food was a Shinra product, the joy in Aerith plummeted.
Without a moment's delay, Elmyra then said, "It's difficult to live without Shinra's products. I can't bake bread at home without ingredients and fuel from Shinra. You have to come to terms with it."
"What does 'come to terms' mean?"
"You probably somewhat got it, didn't you? Did you forget? I told you to have your meal quietly."
There was irritation in her voice, and Aerith was regretful. However, if her efforts to enjoy her meal had gone to waste, she also thought she shouldn't hold back anymore.
"Okay. But, tell me one thing. Elmyra, where do you go after breakfast?"
Elmyra stopped her eating hand and fixed her eyes on Aerith. However, she looked down at the plate after several seconds, she again put the beans in her mouth. Aerith couldn’t read Elmyra’s expression at all, and she didn't know what to do anymore.
"I used to bring along this table to a lot of picnics."
It seems that she was interested in having a conversation. Elmyra's voice was gentle.
"Picnic? I know what that is!"
"Even though I say so, it's still the slums. As much as possible, I would go to places without people and monsters, have a ham and cheese sandwich and even drink a little alcohol."
"Seems fun!"
"It really is."
Elmyra's expression became gloomy, and Aerith panicked. She cannot let this fun conversation come to an end.
"Did you go alone?"
"Nope, that's not the case."
Elmyra placed the bread back on the plate, went out of the room. She then entered her room along the corridor. Shortly after, she returned to the room, holding a photo frame in hand and held it out to Aerith. The photograph projected Elmyra snuggling up close with a man Aerith didn't know, with the upper half of her body. They were sandwiched in between this small table. The man's face and build were robust in comparison to the slender Elmyra.
They both looked like they were happily laughing.
"Clay Gainsborough. He's Gabriel's only son and my husband."
"Your husband!? I know what a husband is! A husband is a wife's important person. A wife is a husband's important person."
Elmyra let out a giggle.
"Yes, he's my husband and an important person to me. You can address him as 'Clay' when he comes back. He likes children, so he would welcome you."
"Where is Clay now?" Aerith asked as she looked at the photograph.
There was no response. When Aerith lifted her head, she saw Elmyra's face, which looked like she was about to cry. She then forcibly put up a smile once they made eye contact.
"He went to war. I got a letter saying that he would be coming home because he took work leave. It's already been six days since he was supposed to be back. The day I met you was the third day."
Aerith understood Elmyra's strange behaviour.
"Do you go to the station every day?"
"Yea... From morning till evening. I probably look like a moron."
"Not at all," Aerith shook her head.
"There’s no point asking Shinra where he is. They tell me something like the trooper's whereabouts is a secret. Shinra surely isn’t flexible at all."
"Clay is a Shinra trooper?"
"Yes, that's right. I should have talked about this first. It's my bad. This household actually has a deep involvement with Shinra."
Aerith's body stiffened.
"But don't worry. Clay and I, we won't do things like ratting you out to Shinra. Aerith, even though I don't know the situation, I'll never forget the desperate look of your mother. We won't do such things to betray you."
"Okay."
To hide her feeling of uneasiness, she hid both cheeks with her hands. However, Elmyra left her eyes fixed on the photo frame and continued her story.
"Clay volunteered to be a Shinra trooper to avoid public criticism that the Gainsborough household was getting preferential treatment from Shinra. Gabriel objected to it, but Clay had already decided, and he stuck to his choice. They haven't spoken to each other since then. I had to go back and forth between these two men to convey things to them."
"Clay and Gabriel, they didn’t get along well?"
"They clashed often, but they had the same personality."
If they had the same personality, maybe that’s why they became like this. Aerith didn't really understand that. However, she saw Elmyra's gentle look as she spoke. It made her inclined to believe that even though Clay was a Shinra trooper, he probably was a good Shinra trooper.
"Aerith, isn't there anything you'd like to talk to me about? Regarding things that are better if I know them?"
There are plenty of things that she should talk about. However, she should probably tell the truth. That she is a Cetra. That people refer to her as an Ancient.
She recollected the various tales of the Cetra that she heard from Ifalna. Elmyra was a good person, and there was no mistaking that. She was not only all words, and she acted upon to help strangers. Clay was also undoubtedly a good person. In the photograph, he had the same smile as Elmyra. However, people may change if she told them she's an Ancient. The Shinra Company wanted to know the secrets of the Ancients, and that was why everyone was gentle and kind. If they were to reveal their true self, everyone would probably be the same as Professor Hojo. They would be itching to inject needles and cutting skin off.
"My mummy and I were captured by this crazy scientist and locked up in the Shinra Building. My mummy had a lot of experiments done on her, that's why she became sick. If I were to be captured by Shinra, that would be me. That's why I want to be here. I also like it here—the house and the garden too. I will also eat Shinra's canned food, so Elmyra, please..."
Elmyra looked at Aerith with her mouth wide open. Shortly after, she reached out her hands across the small table and wrapped them around Aerith's.
"Is there even such a thing? No... there probably is. Yea, of course, you don't have to go back. I promise that I won't do anything that you would hate. Well then, shall we finish eating?"
The two ate quietly. And before long...
"There is a guest coming tomorrow, so I'll probably be cooking for the first time in a while. I like to cook, but it's troublesome if I cook alone for myself. Now that you're here, it'll be good if I cook more, right?"
"I... want to cook! I'd like to help!"
"I’m not sure about that... The kitchen is on the first floor. I think it's still too early for you. "
Aerith was dejected, but she soon looked up.
"That guest... What kind of person is he?"
"That guest... He's Meguro, the second in charge."
"Me-gu-ro-the-second-in-charge."
"Yes. I have to also talk about our family's business, and I’ll tell you about it tomorrow."
And then, after Elmyra finished her meal, she asked casually, "You probably are missing your mummy, aren't you?"
Scene 11
"At that time, I didn't feel things like longing or loneliness. When nightfall arrives, we'll be able to meet. And even if we weren't able to meet, she's connected with the Planet. I could believe that. Moreover, inside the pouch that I received from my mother was a materia. It does nothing other than shining a dim white light. It's not good for anything at all. But when I have it with me, I feel calm."
"It's good for something after all, isn't it?"
"Ahhh, I guess so!"
Aerith touched the knot in her hair at the back of her head. The materia from that time was still with her.
"I wonder who you will pass it on to..." Tifa uttered.
She didn’t understand what she meant at that moment..
"Hey, Tifa."
"Hmmm?"
"I haven't even thought about that before."
There might come a day where she would no longer be ‘the final descendant of the Cetra'. She imagined that scenario in astonishment and fixed her eyes on Tifa. She then flustered ―
"Sorry, I said something strange. Well then, may you tell me the rest of the story? About the second-in-command?..."
Scene 12
Unexpectedly, Aerith was allowed to sit at the lunch table. She was called to the table on the first floor. Meguro then got up from his chair and requested a handshake. Meguro was a plump and cheerful-eyed adult. He looked much older than Elmyra.
"This is Meguro, the second-in-charge. He's Gabriel's right-hand man, Clay's childhood friend, and he's an excellent advisor of mine."
"Good afternoon Mr Meguro. I'm Aerith."
"I heard it from Elmyra. It must have been tough for you."
Aerith was startled, and she looked at Elmyra.
"Meguro is fine. Even if I keep this from him, he's a well-informed and intuitive person. He'll get information from somewhere right away and notice it. That's why I thought it'd be better if I break it to him early on."
Aerith was unhappy about it. It was supposed to be a secret between the both of them. However, since it came to that, there was nothing she could do.
"Aerith. Shinra is making a fuss about you and your mother. In connection to that, there are also occurrences of kidnapping. There's a despicable gang that kidnaps the girls in the slums and tries to make money off it."
"How do they make money? There's probably no way they can fool Shinra."
"Of course, but there are also a bunch who would purchase the girl that Shinra is searching for. It's probably not too tricky to deceive greedy, mean bastards."
Meguro faced his giant body towards Aerith. "You're six years old, no, seven."
"I'm seven."
"Is that so? I also have a seven-year-old daughter. Her name is Rona. That's why this case is not just any other person's problem, and hence this is my suggestion. You two are to be parent and child from now on. Aerith to not be sneaking around, but to go out with Elmyra boldly. You both will meet people and introduce yourselves. You will..." Meguro said as he pointed at Elmyra.
"You will say this. This child was born before you married Clay. She was entrusted to your relatives, but you and Clay decided to live with her. That's about it."
"Hold up a second," Elmyra objects. "I don't understand your point."
"The purpose is to get Aerith known by the neighbourhood and to make them recognise that this child lives here. If she lives in hiding and is taken away by kidnappers and Shinra, no one would probably notice. Elmyra, you probably are acquainted with all the inhabitants in the vicinity, aren't you? If she becomes your daughter, everyone should take notice."
"I see. If that's the case, what about being a relative's child? Or a child who’s adopted from the orphanage? Isn't that good too?"
"The orphanage is just a short distance away. Why would you want to adopt one from there? You wouldn't want to be pried on things like that. Well, however, if she's adopted from a relative, that should be fine. That's right. That would be natural. Well, I think..." Meguro squinted his eyes and looked at Elmyra. "I think you should be addressed as 'Mummy'. Just like how Gabriel made me call him 'Dad'."
Meguro then shifted his gaze to Aerith.
"I was an orphan, and Gabriel picked me up and raised me like his son. Aerith, what do you think? While you're here as the family's child, you'll live as Clay's and Elmyra's daughter."
"I'd like that too."
It seems like an excellent idea. Even if Aerith asks for help now, clearly, no one will care. Just like when she was looking for a doctor at the station. But if she were the daughter of Elmyra Gainsborough, that would be a different story. Elmyra was still thinking about it. Please, Elmyra.
"I think it's a good idea, but this is not just important to Aerith but also for the Gainsborough family. I can't immediately make a decision."
"Well, give it a good thought. Anyways, if Aerith is to go out, it'll be good for her to change her name. Yup, please give this some thought."
Change her name? Aerith was confused at the unexpected suggestion.
"By the way, Elmyra, is the scar on your face Carlo's doing?"
Elmyra looked at Aerith with a side glance.
"Even if I’ve hidden it, you probably already knew about it, right?"
Meguro proudly snorted.
"That guy is a problem. I can't even guess how he became an in-charge."
"With Gabriel gone, he probably thinks that Clay would approve him. Moreover, I'm his representative. He believes that if he threatens a woman, she will cry and give him her signature."
"We have to tighten the whole organisation a little then."
Meguro made a serious face.
"Clay will probably succeed Gabriel, right?"
"Yes. He's taking his work leave this time to talk to you about it."
"No, no, he likely took it to meet his beloved. Business is just an excuse."
Meguro laughed happily and then stood up.
"Leave Carlo to me. And let's talk about the whole organisation after Clay returns."
Scene 13
"After Meguro went off, I was informed about the Gainsborough family business. Gabriel was a manager who manages workers at the construction site. They call him 'The Recruiter'."
"Ahhh, I've heard of this."
"He had been doing this work since the beginning of the Midgar's construction. There are other people in the same profession, but everyone moved onto the plate once it was erected. Only Gabriel and his subordinates remained in the slums. The slums support the plate, and there are many facilities in the slums, aren't there? When that time comes when repair or construction work requires manpower, the Gainsborough family will be contacted."
Aerith gestured and drew a triangle before Tifa's eyes and points at the apex ―
"Gabriel was the first in charge. Clay and Meguro were the second in charge, and they supported the first in charge. The third in charge consisted of six people, and each of them had their own men. They gathered them, and moved under the instructions of the second in charge. Carlo, the hooligan, was like Clay's sworn younger brother."
Scene 14
"Do you understand, Aerith? In other words, this is a very important matter for you," Elmyra said as she placed her hands on Aerith' shoulders.
"Most of the family's work comes from Shinra, and my husband is also a trooper from Shinra. With that, do you still want to be here?"
Elmyra was waiting for an answer with a serious face. She was different from Ifalna and talked to Aerith about anything. That's why Aerith had to think and respond to her thoroughly.
"They are our clients, but it doesn't mean that we adore them. You don't have to worry about that."
It would be a lie to say that Aerith wasn't bothered by the fact that the household has such close relations with Shinra. But if she wasn't okay with it, she couldn't stay here. What should she do? What does she want to do? She looked at Elmyra. Her skin and hair were drier than Ifalna, and she could see that she was tired. She still hadn't removed the plaster on her face. The wound inflicted by Carlo, whom Ifalna happened to bump into on the way back from the station, seemed painful. She went to the station to wait for Clay. She really wanted to see him. And that very same Elmyra fixed her eyes onto Aerith. Even though things are tough on her, she still thought about Aerith's feelings.
Aerith realised it and hurriedly asked what she should have confirmed first.
"Elmyra, won't this trouble you? If I stay here, would it be okay?"
"What are you talking about? Of course."
Without knowing how to express her relief and delight, Aerith hugged Elmyra. She pressed her face onto Elmyra's flat stomach, and Elmyra wrapped her arms around Aerith's back and brought her close for an embrace.
"Well, Clay and I don't have any experience in raising children. We've only learnt by watching others while doing the family's business. We can't say that we know much. There will probably be troubles along the way, and there's a chance Shinra may find you. But let's come up with a solution with everyone when that time comes. By everyone I mean Clay, Meguro, myself and you, Aerith."
Aerith nodded with her forehead still pushed on Elmyra's belly.
“Hey, Aerith. Can you call me 'Mummy'? Of course, you don't have to be serious about it because you only have one mummy."
"Mummy," Aerith tried saying while her forehead remained pressed.
"What was that?"
"Mummy."
"Once more."
"Mummy?"
"It's ticklish, but I don't think it's bad. What do you think?"
Aerith looked up, and she saw Elmyra's gentle face."
"It isn't bad!" Aerith imitated.
Elmyra let out a big laugh. The atmosphere in the room seemed like it started dancing.
↞↠
Ifalna appeared during nighttime, and Aerith told her about the happenings in the day. Ifalna closed her eyes and nodded with satisfaction.
"I'm glad, Aerith."
"But... I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologising?"
"After all..."
From the time after Aerith saw her face, she had feelings of guilt.
"I'm okay with it. Rather than thinking about me, I want you to have a good time. How's your new name coming along?"
"Elmyra told me to think about it myself."
"I see... Do properly give it thought. That name will be your ticket to freedom."
"Okay..."
"To me, I'll miss the name that I'm familiar with and cherish. But you'll always be Aerith. My adorable Aerith. That will not change."
"Really?"
"Of course."
Ifalna's figure wavered for a moment. Aerith panicked and called out to stop her.
"You know what, Mummy? What should I do if Clay doesn't want me? What should I do if he dislikes me and would be angry at me if I stay in this house? And if he says that, he'll return me to Shinra..."
"I think it'll be fine. He's the husband that Elmyra chose, after all, right?"
"Yup, that's right."
Her uneasiness did not precisely go away.
"I wonder where Clay is..."
"That's true... I'll try searching for him."
"Okay, please."
↞↠
It was the following morning. Aerith was drinking tea with Elmyra on the first floor. An old man with a small stature came to visit. He was Butch, a third in command. The wrinkles imprinted on his entire dark-skinned face was impressionable.
"Good morning Butch. You came earlier than the agreed timing, didn’t you?"
"Sorry. It's my bad. Shall I come back again?"
"No, no, it doesn't matter."
She handed over the documents she had prepared. These are the documents necessary for the job. After Butch confirmed its contents, he nodded with satisfaction and placed them inside a tattered bag.
"And, who is this child?" Butch asked Elmyra as he looked at Aerith.
"Ahhh, I have to introduce her, right?"
"She's my cousin's daughter, but my cousin passed away. So I decided to adopt her."
"She doesn't have a father?"
"Eh? Ah. Yes, yes. She doesn't."
Elmyra couldn't hide her nervousness. Butch squinted his eyes and looked at Elmyra. He then turned them to Aerith. It was the first time that Aerith saw such a wrinkled face. His thin eyes were like a part of his wrinkles.
"Hey, young girl, what's your name?"
She was fascinated by his wrinkles, that when she was suddenly asked a question, she was shaken. And then...
"I'm Rona. Nice to meet you, Mr Butch."
After she said that, she thought she was done for. It was too late. Rona was the name of Meguro's daughter, and Butch definitely knew that too. Elmyra also became flustered.
"Ahhhh, what a coincidence."
Unsure if Butch saw their nervousness, he vaguely nodded.
"Nice to meet you, Rona."
After saying that, the old man went home.
"I'm beat."
Elmyra held her own head.
"I'm sorry, I didn't properly decide on it."
"No, no, I wasn't prepared."
Elmyra knelt on the floor and met Aerith's gaze.
"I should have expected that Butch to come early. He normally does. And also, the name too. I thought that the important thing about a new name is that it should be decided on your own, and I left it up to you, but of course, you need help with this. You're seven. Yeah, that's right."
That's right. Elmyra took a broom in her hand and started sweeping the floor while muttering to herself numerous times. It seems that doing the house chores calms her down. Shortly after, she poured Aerith a new glass of tea and invited her over.
“The next guest is Rodin. He's the same as Butch, a third in charge. He may be light-hearted at times, but deep down, he's a good kid."
"He's a kid?"
"No, no, he's only a lot younger than I am. And also, Aerith. He's scheduled to come here in the evening. I want to go to the station before that. There's a chance that Clay might come back. My bad, but may you hide on the second floor until I'm back? It'll be a problem if an unexpected guest comes over, isn't it?"
"Okay."
"It's fine if I bring you along, but it's probably still too soon for that."
"I'm alright with that. I do like the second-floor."
"Your name... Do think about it. I think it's fine if we talk to Butch about the situation. Rona is fine too, but it's still not an issue to change your name now. I'll be thinking about it along the way, so let's discuss and decide on it later on."
Elmyra mentioned that before she came back, no matter who might come over, be it even though it's Rodin, she was not to open the door or to give a reply. She then left the house. Aerith thought they were like the mother squirrel and the child squirrel she saw in picture books. She recalled the fate of these squirrels and hurriedly ran upstairs.
She intended to think about her name right away. However, she thought about Butch's wrinkles. She was surprised she thought about wanting to try touching it someday. She was also curious about Meguro's belly. What exactly did he stuff in there? Is it soft? Is it hard? Rona is also probably a big child, isn't she? Even if she changed her name, she had already introduced herself to Butch as "Rona", would problems not arise? If Meguro knows about this, would he be angry? She wondered how Rona would react to it too. How is Rona as a child? When will it be the day that she meets Rona? Will she get along with her?
As she thought about those things ― and she dozed off numerous times ― evening came. There was the sound of the door opening, and Elmyra cheerfully called out, "Come down."
There's good news, was it!?
Aerith noisily ran downstairs to welcome Elmyra, who was holding a paper bag with both hands.
"Welcome home!"
"Yes, I'm back."
"Welcome home~!"
"Alright, that's enough," Elmyra laughed as she placed the paper bag onto the table. When Aerith looked into it, she found lots of vegetables and fruits that she had never seen. "The vegetables were cheap today, so I brought home lots of them. It's been a while since I hung around at the market. What did you do today?"
"I thought about Rona, about what kind of kid she is."
“She’s a good kid. You’ll also have a chance to meet her in this house.”
After that, Aerith also asked questions about Rona. Elmyra listened with her back facing her, and she replied while starting to put away the vegetables in the food storage area in the fridge. She already stopped smiling. Her voice was also no longer lively. It was because Clay also didn't come back today.
The doorbell rang.
"It's Rodin."
Aerith felt a sense of relief. Elmyra probably did too.
Rodin was a young man around 20-years old. He was tall and slender and had big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.
"Hello," Rodin gave Elmyra a small greeting.
He noticed Aerith right away.
"Hey, Rona. Nice to meet you. I'm Rodin, one of the third in charge."
After Aerith was called ‘Rona’, she flinched. He opened the bag he slung on his shoulders, and held out a thin book.
"Nice to meet you. Here's something I brought from Butch."
"Thank you."
On the cover of the book that she received, the words 'Let's play with letters' was printed in large font. Without thinking, she swelled up her cheeks. That book, which gathered the characters Midgar uses, was the same study book that she was assigned to study in the Shinra Building.
"Eh? Don't you like it? Butch chose it, but... That man, he cares about this kind of stuff more than you would think, so I'll keep this a secret."
"I'm happy about the book. But I thought I had to study."
"Is that so? Well, you're the same as me then. I'm also bad at studying. I'm pretty okay with reading, but writing... Especially Kanji, it'll be good if it doesn't exist."
"Rodin, don't tell her such weird things. Well... Rona. Read the book upstairs. We have to talk about business."
After replying as vibrantly as possible, she went to the second floor, looking like she was escaping. She felt uneasy every time she was addressed as Rona.
After Rodin went off, Elmyra apologised for not coming up with a good name and not taking the time to talk with her about it before Rodin came. And then...
"What do you think about the name 'Rona'? Do you like it?"
"Yes. I like it."
"Well then, shall we go with that?"
"Okay."
↞↠
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The One Where Pro-hero!Katsuki Bakugo's Son, Finds Santa Kissing His Mother. Alternatively, The One Where Katsuki's Son Demands His Father Beat Up Santa Claus On Christmas.
Requested By: Wattpad User
Edited: 12-25-2020
Katsuki quietly hummed to himself as he worked inside the kitchen prepping breakfast. He had some pancakes and sausage on the stovetop, whereas he kept the bacon cooking inside the oven. He had one arm on [Daughter Name], keeping her attached to his hip as he bounced her and flipped food with his other hand. She was only two and still being young she clung to her father for attention, with it being one of his rare days off for the holidays he wasn't going to say no, he was going to devote it to her and his son.
"Bud, can you toast the bagels for me?"
Katsuki briefly moved his attention from the stove to pull the bag of bagels out of the bread cabinet and tossed them onto the counter. Usually, he'd had done it himself but with his daughter on his hip, cooking was already proving to be difficult. His son rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
"I like it better when mom cooks. She never makes me do stuff."
"Hey! You should gladly offer yourself up to help her when I'm not around. Your mother is a Saint, that's why she's sleeping in and you're stuck with me. Now toast the f– toast the bagels."
[Son Name] untied the bag and pulled the bagels out begrudgingly. He was defiantly a momma's boy and loved to give Katsuki lip, undoubtedly universal karma for Katsuki being such a demon to his own mother. Katsuki had to smile to himself as he put food on platters and placed it on the table as well as placing his daughter in her height chair before leaving to wake you up for breakfast.
Katsuki never thought this would become his life. He never thought he'd have a son, his own carbon copy of himself, nor did he imagine he'd follow up with baby number two attached to his hip whenever he wasn't out heroing. Beyond that, he never imagined he'd find someone like you, someone who put up with his crap, someone perfect. He never imagined such a picture-perfect domestic life for himself, one where he cooked, fed the children and owned a cat. One where he had a scheduled date night every week and brought flowers home every other Sunday. He wouldn't ever dare change it.
"Baby?"
Katsuki quietly closed the door behind him and walked over to the window so he could open up the curtains and let light in. You groaned and pulled the pillow over your head as the light made contact with you. You pulled the blanket closer to your body, and a smile tugged at Katsuki's lips. He loved moments like this.
"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up."
"No, you're mean. A big meanie."
Katsuki climbed into the bed and cuddled up next to you. He pulled the pillow off of your head and threw it onto the ground on his side so you couldn't reach back for it. You had major bedhead, and he loved that. Years ago you would've forbidden him from seeing you like that, now he found it hot.
"It's Christmas Eve, you need to get up."
"No, leave me alone. It's my day off, go wake the kids up."
"Already awake, and breakfast is on the table. We wanted to let you sleep in, give you a break for once."
Katsuki pushed your hair out of your face and tried to pull the blanket out of your grip as you fought back a smile. He thought he was being really smooth.
"For being a pro-hero you're such a liar. You don't want me to have a break, you were trying to butter me up so we can repeat what we did last night."
"You were the one who was all over Santa last night, don't blame me if I try to get the use out of the Santa suit before I have to give it back to the company."
He was referring to the Santa costume he came home wearing last night. Everyone at his hero agency had to dress up as Santa and do some charity work for a variety of different places such as churches and hospitals. He came straight home afterward and you put it to good use.
"Mm, I don't need Santa when I have you, I guess."
"Geez, aren't you romantic."
"Just let me put some clothes on and I will be right down."
You rolled off the bed and scampered off to your laundry basket to see if you could find some pajamas to clothe your naked body. Katsuki ripped his eyes away from your back, ripped his eyes away from the marks he gave you passionately. He climbed off of the bed and made his way back downstairs to the breakfast table but he passed [Son Name] in the kitchen putting bagels in a toaster.
"Dad, can I talk to you? Man to man."
"What's up, little man?"
"Last night... Last night I saw mommy and Santa kissing."
Katsuki tried to laugh it off as he pulled the orange juice from the fridge and placed it on the table, your son following him hot on his tail as he went.
"Santa only comes on Christmas."
"That's what I thought, but mom said Santa comes before Christmas sometimes to make sure our trees are working, like in 'The Grinch' but for real, and mommy would never lie to me."
"I'm sure it's not what it looked like, Alright? Your mother loves us both very much and she wouldn't do that to us."
It was exactly what it looked like but it wasn't Santa, it was himself in the Santa suit. Katsuki was grasping at straws, trying to explains this to his son and make it look innocent, trying to make you look good without exposing the secret.
"I know mommy wouldn't do that to us! What I really wanted to talk about was how Santa was really mean. He took her into her bedroom and said some really mean things. He yelled stuff at her like 'that's my pussy' and 'give me a baby'. If he wants a cat so bad can't the elves just give him one, I like our cat."
This progressively kept getting worse, and Katsuki was glad that you were still upstairs. Had you heard their conversation you surely would've killed Katsuki.
"Daddy, you need to stop Santa before he tries to steal our cat, I love Gigi! What if he tries taking [Daughter Name], he said he wanted a baby. Or worse, what if he tries stealing mommy from you. You-you need to beat him up when he comes tonight. You need to set Santa straight."
There were so many things Katsuki could've said or done to de-escalate this. He could kindly explain he was in a Santa suit for charity work. He could have lied and said he and you were arguing about getting another cat. He could have been honest and said you both were talking about having another child, but he didn't. [Son name] was begging him with forming tears in his eyes. He was crying out and calling him daddy. He was such a momma's boy, Katsuki hadn't had his son need or want him like this in such a long time. It felt nice, it felt good, so all Katsuki did was nod and agree with his son.
"They don't call me DynaMight for nothing. I'll blow him into next week. Santa won't think about stealing anyone of our family members ever again."
[Son Name] wrapped his arms around Katsuki and he smiled. He tightly grabbed his father, and let his tears fall into Katsuki's shirt as he mumbled out thank you's.
"I can't wait to see you beat up Santa."
In hindsight, Katsuki should've expected that one. How was he supposed to beat up Santa when he was Santa in the first place. Suddenly a horrible idea crossed Katsukis head. It is despicable, and mean. You would've frowned upon it and discouraged it. Once his son let go of him and walked off to sit at the breakfast table, Katsuki walked down the hall to make a phone call to his coworker.
"Key, Kaminari– What do you mean I only call you when I need something?! I'm a good friend you du– Look, do you still have your Santa suit? Come to my house tonight at eleven, in your suit. I promise it's for a good cause."
The clock was slowly ticking away. Every second chasing down the hour and Christmas Eve was well on it's way to becoming Christmas. Supper had finished up, Katsuki even cleared the table and helped you do the dishes. He had cooked, and it was a mutual unspoken agreement between you both that whoever cooked dinner did not have to clean it up after. He didn't even try to sprinkle you with water, he was just sweet and soft for the evening.
"Thanks, Katsuki, you're being so sweet today. Let me sleep in, made breakfast and you helped me clean? God, you're such a keeper."
You threw your drying towel onto the now cleared and clean counter before you made your way to the living room to find some Christmas movie on the tv that was age-appropriate for your children. Katsuki was being sweet, too sweet and it made you suspicious. He was pulling out all the cards and tricks he typically pulls out when you get angry that he'd forgotten something, or came home too late.
After you got settled down on the couch with [Son Name] nestled between your legs on the floor and [Daughter name] cuddling into your right side. Katsuki came over and sat a tray of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of the couch. Katsuki took a seat at your left side and passed you a mug before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. You hummed while you sipped from the mug and carefully watched as Katsuki skimmed through the tv channels and put on 'Santa Claus', the one starring Tim Allen, for the kids and you.
He hated that movie. He claimed it was to overwatched. After being put on year after year he wanted a new Christmas movie.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean?"
Katsuki was taken back by your words. He didn't do anything, at least not yet. He was planning to roast your best friend, but Denki didn't even know it was happening and the only one who could snitch was his son who didn't know it would be Denki.
"You let me sleep in, you made breakfast, you bathed the kids and uhm, me. You cooked and helped clean dinner, now you've brought me cocoa and now you're putting on a movie you hate. So, what did you do?"
To be fair, some of those things Katsuki had planned out into motion before he had even planned to blast Denki into next Tuesday.
"I just wanna cherish you. You're my wife, let me love you."
Katsuki pulled you even closer to his side, nearly making the cocoa in your hands tip over as he placed a tender kiss onto the tip of your head.
"You forgot to get me a present didn't you?"
Your eyes narrowed at Katsuki before he dipped his head own to your ear and whispered hotly.
"I did not forget, you're getting a great present tomorrow morning, and maybe I'll even give you one tonight."
"I'm watching you."
The minutes slid by as you watched the movie together as a family. Everyone once and awhile you give Katsuki a look out of the side of your eye, carefully inspecting him. Soon your son was nodding off at your legs and your daughter was sound asleep in your lap.
"Time for bed."
Your son jumped up, seemingly having excitement from out of nowhere. You carefully picked up your daughter and carried her in your arms as you stood up to carry her to bed. One down, one to go.
"Go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas for mommy, okay? I'll be right there to tuck you in."
Your words were rushed and whispered as to not wake your sleeping daughter, but your son frowned and grabbed Katsuki's hand.
"I want daddy to tuck me in tonight."
"Mm, you sure? I'd love to read you a bedtime story."
"I want dad."
You adjusted your daughter on your arms to help even out the weight as you stared down your son and husband.
"If you're both not in bed within half an hour I will take away a Christmas gift."
You walked off upstairs, still suspicious of the males in your family. No way did your son, the momma's boy, just reject your offer. Now you were positive Katsuki was up to something.
Katsuki waited until you were upstairs to text Denki. He was outside, waiting to make noise under the pretense that his son wanted to meet Santa. Denki could be heard outside, doing goodness knows what.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yeah! I bet it's Santa, are you gonna beat him up dad, are you gonna show him who's boss!?"
Katsuki rolled his sleeves up and looked back at the stairs, just to be sure you were upstairs and not watching them.
"You can bet your butt I am! Your dads the greatest, watch me go kick Santa's butt."
Katsuki marched to the front door and swung it open before making his way to Denki. He walked the way he did on patrol, the way he did when he was on TV, like a man on a mission, a man with a purpose.
"Ho-Ho-Ho!–"
"Ho-Ho-Ho yourself! Heard you wanted to break apart my family, Santa."
Katsuki aimed one of his blasts at Denki. It wasn't large enough to harm him, but it was large enough to hurt.
"Katsuki, what the fuck dude?"
"That was for being mean to my wife and trying to take away our cat."
Katsuki marched closer to Denki and kicked him in the leg, grinning as he heard Denki groan in pain.
"That was for swearing in front of my kid. If I can't do it, neither can you."
"I'm sorry, Jesus Christ."
Katsuki left Denki on the floor as he walked over to the front door and picked his son up. His son clutched on to him tightly, happy his father saved the family. Happy his father wouldn't let Santa take his cat or mother away.
"Thanks, Dad, you're my hero."
"Well, I am the best hero. I'd fight Santa for you any day, just don't tell your mom."
Even though Denki snitched to you the next day, even though you had watched the altercation through the window, you didn't say a word to Katsuki. You didn't reprimand him, or get upset that he hurt Denki. Instead, you watched fondly with a smile from the window. That was the father of your children, your hero, and the guy who held your heart. He was soft and sweet and held the bar for fathers high. He deserved a pass for this one.
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If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???
Here you go!
22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.
Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.
It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.
“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.
“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”
“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.
“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”
The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.
“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”
“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”
The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”
“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.
“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”
“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”
“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”
“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”
“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”
“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”
A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.
“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.
“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.
Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”
Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.
---------------------------------------------------
He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.
“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.
“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”
“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”
Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.
“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”
“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”
As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.
Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.
“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”
“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”
“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”
He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”
“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”
She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”
“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”
“How can you be sure it’s fake?”
“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”
“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.
“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”
---------------------------------------------
He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.
“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”
“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”
“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”
“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”
It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.
“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them
“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.
Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.
Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.
It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.
“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”
“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”
His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.
He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.
His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.
A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.
Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.
I.C All
Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.
He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.
“Come in!”
The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.
Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.
“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”
“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”
“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.
“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”
“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”
“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”
“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”
“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”
“...Come with me.”
Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.
“I had no idea this was here.”
“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”
“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”
“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”
“You know he won’t, sugar.”
“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”
Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------
“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.
“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.
“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.
“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”
“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.
“How’s Maddie doin’?”
“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”
“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”
“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”
Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.
“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”
“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”
She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.
“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”
“A few weeks.”
She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”
“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”
The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”
With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.
--------------------------------------------------
“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.
“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”
He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.
“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”
Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.
“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”
“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”
It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”
“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”
Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.
But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.
His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.
It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.
“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”
His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.
“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”
“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.
Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.
“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”
“You struck a deal.”
Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”
Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.
“He blackmailed you.”
“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”
“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.
“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”
“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”
Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.
He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.
“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”
Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”
Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.
“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”
The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”
He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.
-------------------------------------------------------
“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”
“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”
“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”
“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”
“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”
He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.
“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”
“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.
“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”
An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.
“You like when I’m rough?”
“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.
“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”
“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.
Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”
“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.
“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”
“Please show me how.”
“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.
“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”
“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”
He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.
“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”
“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.
“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”
Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.
“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”
The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.
“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”
Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.
“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.
Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”
“Fuck, please?”
He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.
“I, I should unzip-”
“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”
“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.
“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”
“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.
“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”
“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”
Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”
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The Truth that you Deny // Part 4
pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
word count: 2,394
warnings: none, fluff
A/N: Okay, so this is the second to last part of this story and I’m not sure if I’m ready. I know people are still reading it, but are you all still enjoying it? I know it might seem kinda drawn out, but I couldn’t help myself. I like the way its turned out, but i mean I’m posting it so hopefully others can enjoy it too. It just makes me really nervous. Either way, the next part is the last part that I’ve written. I might potentially be willing to do another bit of a drabble continuing on with it if people are interested, but you have to let me know.Thank you to everyone who has been reading it, liking it, commenting, and even reblogging! It means so much to me!! Anyways, here is part 4! I hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist as well! I’d like to start a general one for any writing I post myself, so let me know if you’d like to be added to that as well. thank you Xx
Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213
“Did you still need help, Mrs. Weasley? I got talking to Ginny.” You say when you finally make your way back downstairs.
“No worries, dear. If you don’t mind, I could use the help.” She smiles at you.
“Of course. Where do you want me to begin?”
As she explains what she wants to make and shows you the recipe, you find yourself happy to be back here. As you had told George, this is your favourite place aside from hogwarts.
You were so amazed the first time you were here back in your second year. Even though it was a bit of a smaller house for such a large family, it was extraordinarily comfortable and welcoming. You almost immediately felt at home and cared for, which was quite the contrast from your family.
You were an only child to Wizarding parents that were rarely home, and when they were, they spent their time belittling you. You never seemed to be enough in their eyes even though you had never acted out and were always in the top of your classes.
You never could figure out why they treat you the way they do. That first year at hogwarts, you had nearly cried when you had to go back home because you would be right back to no one caring about you.
When Fred had invited you to Christmas at the burrow in second year, you were nervous, sure, but you were also thrilled to be spending the break with at least two people you knew cared for you. Then when the rest of the weasley’s accepted you...you really did cry because you had never known a family.
“You got it?” Mrs. Weasley asks, having finished explaining the recipe.
“Yeah, thank you.” You smile which she reciprocates.
You both work in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the twins come down and start talking to you.
“Mmm, what are you guys making? It smells amazing.” George asks as they both lean against the table that your working at.
“Your mum’s working on dinner.”
“Ooh, what’re we having?” Fred asks, going to lean over his mum’s shoulder.
“You’ll see when you sit down to eat, won’t ya?” Mrs. Weasley quips, shooing her son out of her way.
“Fine,” He pouts. “What about you?”
He peers his head over your shoulder, resting his chin as he watches you work.
“I’m trying to make a pie for dessert,” you say trying to look at him while he’s still resting his chin on your shoulder.
“What kind?”
“You’ll find out later. You’re making it awfully hard to work.” You frown, wiggling your shoulder to hopefully get him to move.
“You sound just like mum.” He frowns, walking away and sitting across from you as George had.
“It’s a natural reaction to you two. You find a way to always be in the way.” You chuckle.
“It’s odd to see you in the kitchen. It doesn’t seem like something you’d do.” George says, watching as you mix things together.
“What is something I would do then?” You ask, chuckling at his statement.
“Play quidditch. Study. Work.” Fred points out.
“You two do realize that I had to do this every night before hogwarts? My parents were never home so I had to cook and clean and take care of the house.”
“And you shouldn’t have had to do that. Not that young.” Mrs. Weasley interjects. You smile a bit sadly as she looks over at you, silently affirming that she cares. Out of all the Weasley’s, her and Ginny are really the only ones who know what your life was like before hogwarts, and even then, Ginny doesn’t know nearly as much as her mum does.
“It wasn’t fair to you in the slightest, but I know you’ll make a good wife someday.” She smiles, winking at you and looking over her two sons.
“Oh, uh. I hope.” You chuckle nervously, a blush rising to your cheeks.
“Oh, I know you will. You’re smart, talented, hard-working. You’re gorgeous. You know how to handle yourself and others, not to mention you know how to keep a house running. Whoever ends up marrying you is going to be a lucky man.” Mrs. Weasley states, matter-of-factly.
You’re blushing furiously now, looking down at what you’re working on to try to hide your face. You glance up at the twins only to receive a couple shrugged shoulders.
Neither Fred or George knew what to say because they didn’t really feel like commenting on whether you’d be a good wife with their own mother, but the thought of you as their wife was nice to think about. It’d be absolutely wonderful to wake up next to you, to hold you anytime they want, to help you in the kitchen, to have you to laugh with for the rest of their lives. Even having a family with you. Now, that would be a dream.
“I’m actually surprised none of you have gotten together yet. With how close you all are, I would’ve figured that by now one of you would have asked her out if not both of you.” Their mother continues, furthering your blush but now causing them to as well.
“Mum.” They both groan, looking at you, but looking away soon after in embarrassment.
“What?” She asks, turning to look at the three of you, noticing all of your red cheeks but ignoring it.
“Why don’t you two go and find something to do while y/n and I finish up.”
“Fine.”
“We’ll be upstairs.”
You let out a breath of air and try to rid yourself of your tinted cheeks.
“Boys, they get so embarrassed when their mum talks about a girl with them.” Mrs. Weasley chuckles.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Y/n, dear. You like them, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Of course. They’re my best friends and -“
“You know what I mean, y/n.” She tuts, turning to face you.
You sigh, not really wanting to talk about it, but knowing that out of anyone she would understand it the most.
“Yeah. I do. I really like them both.” You smile.
“But?” She asks, setting down the towel she had had over her shoulder to wipe her hands on.
“But I don’t want to ruin anything between us. We’re all each other’s best friends and I don’t want to make anything awkward by admitting that I like them. And that I like them both! I suppose it’s slightly better than liking only one of them if they both like me as well. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt either of them.” You explain to which Molly nods.
“I know that, dear. You care for both of them deeply.”
“I do. I really do, but it’s odd to date two people at the same time, right? I’d hate to have to choose between them, but I’m not fond of the idea of people looking at us funny if I were with both of them.”
“I’m just really confused, Mrs. Weasley. I don’t know what to do.” You sigh, looking back at her and leaning against the table.
“You’ve been thinking about this for awhile, haven’t you hun?”
You nod, sniffling slightly because you really just don’t know what to. It hurts you to think about hurting either of them.
“C’mere.” The older lady waves you towards her where she pulls you into a hug.
“It must be hard to not have a mum to talk to about this. As awful as it sounds, this truly is just the beginning of a lot of pain and tough decisions in your life. You can come to me at any time, okay? I promise you that. You’re like a daughter to me and I’d hate to see you suffer in silence. Just owl me or come visit me, whatever works for you, okay?”
“Thank you, mrs weasley. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Now, about your situation, you just tell them how you feel. Tell them that while your worried it might make things awkward, you had to get it off your chest. Okay?”
“Okay,” you nod. A small smile forming on your lips.
~.~
It’s been a few days since your conversation with Mrs. Weasley and it’s finally Christmas Eve so the burrow is buzzing with excitement.
You have yet to find the right moment to tell Fred and George how you feel, but you figure it can wait a while more. You’ve been able to maintain a fairly regular relationship with them, keeping your conversations playful and away from any feelings. As long as you didn’t think too much about how attractive or caring they are, you could go on pretending everything is the same.
However, as the days progress it becomes increasingly more difficult for Fred and George to pretend that everything is normal. Unbeknownst to you, they had overheard everything you said to their mother that day in the kitchen. While they were more than happy to hear you say that you liked them, they felt terrible that you had been having an internal war between your head and heart.
It was becoming impossible not to notice how adorable you were even when you weren’t doing anything. They’d caught you reading a few times without disturbing you and couldn’t help but observe all the little details of you. Like how you’d bite your lip and smile when you read something that made you happy or how you’d even try to cover your mouth when you’d get smiling a lot. Either way your eyes would show just how happy you were.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Weasley’s! Merry Christmas Eve, Harry!” You smiled as you came down for breakfast.
“Merry Christmas Eve to you too, dear.” Mrs. Weasley smiled, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of you as you took your spot in between Fred and George.
“Is there much we need to do today?” You asked after taking a sip of your coffee that George had made for you.
“Oh, no. Nothing you need to bother help with.” She smiles as she sits down herself.
“Y/n, I was wondering if you’d be willing to go to diagon alley with me? If it’s alright with you, mum? I could really use y/n’s help getting some last minute gifts.” Ginnny asks, looking from her mother to you.
“Of course I would, Ginny. Would that be okay with you, Mr and Mrs Weasley?”
“It sounds lovely. I doubt either of you get much girl time with all these boys around all the time.” Mrs Weasley smiles.
“Perfect! Thank you, mum. And thank you, y/n!”
~.~
“So what gifts did you need to get, Ginny?” You ask as you both walk diagon alley.
“Well, actually. I was hoping to find one for Harry, but I have no idea what to get him. I’d also like to get something for Hermione as well since she’ll be over tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay. No problem, let’s start with finding something for hermione, okay? She’ll be easier to get something for.”
After a couple hours of looking around and finding a gift for hermione, as well as some extra for her family, you both decide to take a short break.
“Thank you, again, for coming with me today, y/n. I knew you’d be able to help me.” Ginny says, smiling and blushing ever so slightly.
“Of course, Gin. I love spending time with you and it’s even better when I can help.”
“Well now it’s time for me to help you, do you have any gifts for my brothers?” She asks, leaning forward and folding her hands together.
“Of course I do, Ginny. I have gifts for all of you.”
“What did you get Fred and George?”
“I have a few different things for them. You’ll have to wait and see just like them.” You smile.
“Come on, y/n. I’m trying to help you.” Ginny sighs.
“Why? Are you afraid that the gifts I got them aren’t good enough?” You joke.
“No, I’m sure what you got them is wonderful. I just know one of the gifts they got you and it’s reeeally nice.” She emphasizes.
“They did? They know I don’t need anything expensive.” You frown, now worrying what it is they got you and how much it was.
“You’ll really like it though. I promise you.” She smiles and that makes you even more nervous. What could they possibly have gotten you?
~.~
You both finally got back to the burrow late that afternoon after it had started snowing and just kept on picking up.
“Thank heavens you both got home safe. We’ve been watching it snow for the last half hour and it just kept picking up.” Molly said when you both came in the door, shaking off the excess snow.
“Looks like you both had fun.” Fred smirked, nodding towards the few bags in each of your hands.
“We did, thank you very much. I don’t get nearly enough time to hang out with your sister.” You say, setting the bags down to take off your coat and scarf.
“So what did you get?” George asks, trying to peek in the bags as he hands you a mug of cocoa his mother told him to make when she saw the car headlights down the road.
“None of your business.” You chuckle, swatting his arm to get him away from them.
“Ooh, do you have gifts in there?” Fred asks, excitedly.
“Would you both knock it off? What did you think we went out for today? Obviously it’s gifts you dummies.” You chuckle, picking up the bags so they can’t get into them.
“Aw, c’mon. We just wanna see what you got everyone.” Fred pouts, George joining him when you look over at him.
You chuckle and shake your head at the pair. They were definitely something.
“Thank you for the cocoa, George. I’ll be enjoying it upstairs as I wrap these gifts away from you two.”
They pout but can’t help but smile when you walk away shaking your head and smiling at them. They were getting more and more anxious by the minute to give you their gift that they spent days trying to figure out. They only hoped you would like it as much as they thought they would.
#harry potter#harry potter imagine#fred and george weasley x reader#fred and george#fred weasley#george weasley#fred weasley imagine#george weasley imagine#fluff#imagines
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Black Widows Web
ONE
also posted on ao3 i promise im not stealing
Yui had been dismissed from the hospital and couldn’t even make it to the car without her mother verbally berating her over the image this would reflect. Once they reached the car, her father was waiting inside talking to the driver.
“Mother please trust me that nothing will come of this. This hospital is under the name of a close friend and I informed them that it was simply from a change in altitude because of summer travels.” Yui puts a hand over her heart. “I’ll be more cautious from now on, I promise.”
Her mother sighs, temporarily satisfied with her daughter's excuse. “Fine. I’ll be having Hanamiya boy watch after you from now on. You two are already attached at the hip, although I’m not sure if it’s a good thing.” Shaking her head slightly, her mother looks back up. “He’s no son of a businessman but his mother is a trusted friend and assistant, he has my approval.”
Hearing his wife speak of approval he lifts his head from his phone. “Whoever the boy is seems good enough if he can deal with my daughter's personality.”
Yui has to fight the urge to roll her eyes, “Makoto and I have no romantic involvement with one another, we are simply friends.”
Just the thought of dating him- much less getting married to that boy makes her feel sick again. She couldn’t see herself living with anybody for the rest of her life, with the exception of Haya, her vice. It was only natural for Yui to be alright with it, they were close friends and head of the student council together.
Yui doesn't touch her phone the entire drive back to the house, even though her parents would be too busy on theirs to notice. It was improper of her, somehow.
The drive back took almost an hour and by now the cooks would be finishing up dinner. Stepping out of the car, her mother gently grabs her hand. It would’ve been nice if she didn’t immediately dig her pointed nails into Yui’s skin. Yui stands there, completely unfazed by her mother's usual antics.
“If I even hear a word about you from the parents at that school…” Her mother had leaned in close, and Yui felt like her glare was gripping her own neck.
“Noone will say anything,” Yui untucks the hair behind her ear and lets it fall in front of her face, “I’ll personally make sure of that.”
Her mother lets go and puts a hand on her shoulder, smiling. “Good.”
Yui is left outside with the car. Her father was still in the car, now watching her every move. The only time he ever played attention was when mother commanded it. Neither move to do anything and soon the car pulls away, leaving her alone.
Before she could open the door, the front gates opened and another car pulls in. It's not the same brand as what they buy so it couldn’t be father. ‘Perhaps mother is having friends over and didn’t inform me.’
The car pulls to a stop in front of her and Furuhashi steps out. The car pulls away and the two of them are left standing outside, staring at each other. Yui wasn’t sure why he was here, everything was paid for at the hospital and he’s not qualified for home checkups.
“School doesn’t start for two more days, you know.”
“Captain wants to know why you were at the hospital.”
Yui rolls her eyes, what a shitty lie. “We’ve known each other for years, I’m sure he would know why. Just tell me why you're really here.”
He stares blankly and shakes his head. “Our parents want us to talk more.”
Yui laughs, covering her mouth as she regains her composure. “Didn’t know I was your type, Kojiro.” Both teens cringe at that and she shakes her head. “Yeah, that felt wrong to say.”
Furuhashi looks up and notices her mother watching them. Looking back at Yui, he signals her to follow him. Yui leads him to the garden where they can talk without being watched. Sitting down at a bench together neither say anything.
“When will you tell her about you and Haya?”
Her head snaps towards the boy who was staring at her like he didn’t say the most ridiculous thing in existence. “There is nothing between me and her. She is simply my right hand that I trust. I have no romantic feelings for any girl-boys- both. Both of us are wasting our time here, mother wouldn’t seriously marry me off to your family either. We have nothing in common in our fields.”
Furuhashi watches as she stands up and goes to stop off before remembering what her mother would say. “Aha, Please let your driver know you are ready to be picked up now.”
He stands up and walks off. “He’s down the road, I told him I wouldn’t be long.” He walks ahead of her through the garden neither saying anything. He didn’t feel the need to and Yui was to angry to say anything.
When his car came, Furuhashi got in and left without saying anything. Yui scoffs and goes to her room. All her assignments had been finished, everything is packed, her room is perfectly clean and her new outfits are put away just the way she liked.
There was absolutely nothing to do.
Even when there was something to do, it was never entertaining, at least not at home. The nights spent bribing the maids not to tell a soul while she snuck out with Haya and ran around Tokyo, going into tourist gift shops and eating bad convenience food while in a back ally no one goes… that was fun.
Yui lies on her bed while scrolling through her gallery, most of the photos were with the basketball team or important things for the student council.
Walking into her closet she grabs a jewelry box from the top shelf and pulls it down. Inside was photos from her first year at Kirisaki Daiichi with Haya. The ones where they were wearing dumb hats and glasses, posing like she wasn’t a famous model, or her trying to grab the camera from Haya’s hand because she had marker all over her face, the ones her mother would never be allowed to see.
She looks through the photos a while longer before she hears her mother's heels against the stairs. She quickly shoves the photos back and changes into a new outfit. The sun had already set so pajamas made the most sense.
By the time her mother had knocked on the door, Yui was already at her desk making notes of her biology textbook. Without waiting for an answer her mother comes in and stands behind her. “Why was the oldest son from the Furuhashi family here with you just now?”
Yui pauses, was he not he because their families wanted them together? She did doubt it but at the same time went along with it, she thought he had no reason to lie. “He came to check up on me now that Hamamiya has to be coach and captain. Hanamiya and I will be splitting the responsibilities of coach.”
Her mother stares down at her daughter with pursed lips, pulling back the hair that was always covering part of her face. “I’ll never understand today's youth obsession with dying their hair.”
Without a word, she walks out of the room. The clock on her desk showed it was almost eight already, the day had gone by quicker than she had thought. Shutting her textbook, Yuismiles slightly that her mother didn’t realize this one was from last year and not her new one.
Putting the book away she walks into her bathroom for her nightly routine. Once she was finished and checked her phone, she didn’t know if she should be more confused or creeped out by the text.
It was from Akashi Seijiro. She had met him a few times before and exchanged numbers due to their family. The text read like an email but it was hard to laugh due to the question.
Reading it out loud to herself she had to make sure she wasn’t still in the hospital. “Dear Miss. Fukami, although it is inappropriate to ask so directly and so soon, my father insists on me bringing a date to a business dinner, whether or not I plan to be with the girl. Due to your public disinterest in dating men, I have no worries about having you as my guest.”
Yui takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. How does she even respond to this? Obviously with a yes. Her mother would kill her if she declined. She responds quickly and waits for him to send the information.
While waiting, she lays her phone on the wireless charger and shoves her face into a pillow. She really does not want to deal with anyone who would be at the event.
It doesn’t take long for him to respond. She reads the text from the notification bar and lays her phone back down without replying. She’ll inform her parents tomorrow, tonight she binge watches Makoto’s favorite show to correct him on things he didn’t notice.
#kuroko no basket#knb#kirisaki daiichi#hanamiya makoto#knb fanfic#furuhashi koujirou#knb oc#kuroko no basuke#kuroko no basket oc#akashi seijuro
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Delusion
A Childe X Lumine Fanfiction
Rating : Not Rated
Tags : Psychological, Mild Angst, Character Death
----
During moments of utter silence, Childe recalls that which Lumine once told him about a book she had read from a far away land.
"It is of utmost importance that those who seek to fight monsters must not become one in the process."
He likes to think that perhaps, by mentioning it, she had once hoped that he would be reminded of his main aspiration—to conquer the world that is, and not to simply bathe in the blood of his enemies.
It has its merits, he admits—for he finds himself fighting alongside her during the turning point of the war, the darkness in him dampened by the white light she emits—cleansing the corruption that has resided in him for the longest time.
This too though, reminds him of another of her words.
"The deep dark abyss—stare for too long and it would stare back to those who dare."
It is true, for he knows that ever since he dropped down that hole in the world, he emerged as a monster that is only tamed by bloodshed.
And from the moment he knew Lumine, perhaps by her as well.
He has always carried a portion of that so-called abyss, feeling its vines wrapping inside his very being. He is a monster, that much is true, but tamed as one can be, he became a tool under her commands.
He does not care, for it is times with her when the whispers of the dark become muted—turned into nothing but echoes of the past.
"Childe? Breakfast?"
The man spies her slender form by the doorframe of his bedroom, sees her domestically ushering his sleepy person into the kitchen and he feels as though he had achieved that which he desires, with her by his side.
To conquer the world.
They did. They won. And it was all that he could ask for.
Celestia is no more. The abyss is no more. It is just him, Lumine and the rest of the world.
He smiles as he sits down at the table, reaching for her hand as she places the bowl of steaming Calla Lily Seafood Soup before him.
"Oh, my favorite. What's the occasion, girlie?"
"Mhm, nothing in particular. Just wanted to cook something special for you." she smiles back and he thinks he saw the glimmer of stars beyond her eyes.
Or perhaps it was nothing but an illusion, masking the deeper end of the void he is familiar with—if such end even existed.
Childe shakes his head for he believes that that is not the case. Lumine is here with him. And the abyss is no more. It is no more.
And if the calling of that dark bud inside him grows too strong anyhow, he knows she is here to defeat it for him.
For she is also perhaps a monster in her own rights.
--☆☆☆--
The bags under his eyes, and the haunted looks in his face tell everyone that he is far from recovered but everytime someone comes to ask him how he is faring, he will do nothing but face them with a smile before answering.
"I'm very much fine! Lumine takes good care of me."
If there were curious glances sent his way, he does not care. They must be seething inside—jealous that it was him who conquered her heart by the end of it all.
The savior and the reformed harbinger.
What a perfect love story—great as a tale to pass down from generations to generations. He sighs at the thought.
"Childe, pardon my query but I must ask—how have you truly been?"
He already lost count of how many times the same question had been asked of him.
He stops walking—to face the former Geo Archon a few steps behind.
"I do not understand why everyone keeps on asking the same question. I already told you i'm fine, didn't I?"
Oh how he hates it when they ask—as if they were doubting his princess' ability to care for him, for it was her who has been on his bed, in his kitchen, in his very house ever since the world achieved true peace.
They do not understand just how capable Lumine is.
And they will never know, if he has anything to say.
"Though we are but friends, I must express my deep concern. The dips on your cheeks beg to differ from that which you uttered."
The blue in his eyes shift into something malicious, to that belonging to the beast he keeps inside.
"With all due respect, Mr. Zhongli. I do not appreciate the implications of what you just said. You asked and I answered." He pauses.
The abyss is no more for Lumine is with him.
"I shall be going now. My wife is waiting for me at home."
As he walks away, he ignores the burning gaze on his back. It's fine. That former god does not matter.
What matters is him and Lumine while the rest of the world could go crash and burn, he thinks.
--☆☆☆--
"Tough day at work?"
Childe sidles up to her side, wrapping an arm around the apron-covered waist of his beloved. He kisses her temple with reverence—for it is what she deserves.
"Not really. It was just Mr. Zhongli. And others. Being annoyingly repetitive as always." He grumbles, tucking her head under his chin.
The small hand resting atop his chest tightens against his clothes.
"Do they... not approve of me?" She asks almost inaudibly.
He was quick to deny the preposterous thought.
"Don't listen to them. They do not matter, girlie."
Childe feels her shift and he looks down at her.
Golden pools decorated by the glittering of stars—of tears, he realizes, meet his abyssal depths.
"Are you... are you going to leave me?"
He brushes the hair out of her forehead and tucks the strays behind her ears before promptly brushing away the tears that cascaded from her eyes.
"Never. You are mine, Lumine. As much as I am yours."
Even the sweetest wine cannot compare to the smile that adorns her face after his declaration. She buries her head on his chest once more, arms crossing behind him, bestowing him with nothing else but warmth.
Childe thinks for a second, that this moment is perhaps the best there is in the world. And he knows he is ruined for anything else.
It is impossible to feel anything akin to this feeling and he strongly believes that the desire to even experience it from others aside his princess does not exist anymore.
--☆☆☆--
The sound of deliberate knocking at the door rouses the harbinger from his sleep. Childe growls in annoyance at whoever is behind that piece of wood as he untangles his limbs from the goddess laying beside him.
He kisses the top of her head before deciding to rise and check who their visitor is.
He stills when the one in front of his humble abode makes himself known.
Zhongli, of course.
"Mr. Zhongli, why the early visit?"
The man only hums before crossing his arms, pinning him with a serious gaze.
"May I come in, Childe?"
"Ah, of course."
He lets him in and ushers the former archon to the couch. Upon sitting, the latter immediately scans his surroundings with vague concern in his eyes.
"I must say, your house is surprisingly empty and devoid of life, Childe."
"What do you mean? I think it's pretty homey. Lumine designed it by herself when she first got here."
A frown makes its way to the other man's lips.
"Childe, can we talk?"
He stiffens, tone changing into a defensive one.
"We are talking, are we not?" He spats.
"Why don't you ask Lumine to come down here with us?"
He summons one of his water blades.
"Why exactly are you here, Zhongli?"
"Call Lumine, Childe."
In a flash, the water blade comes in contact with the polearm that materialized in front of the visitor.
"Why. Are. You. Here?" He asks, hostile in every way as he accents each word with a swing of his blade—all thankfully parried.
"I need you to understand, Childe." Zhongli calls forth a jade shield that rattled even the sturdy walls of the other man's home.
A water spear slams against the shield.
"That Lumine..."
Yet another side step, perfectly timed to avoid the beast cloaked in water suddenly crackling with electricity.
"Stop it!" It yells.
But Zhongli is not known for being gentle. The wrath of the rock and the harsh truth—both must be laid out for him to save the monster disguised as a man.
"Is no longer with us."
A beat passes.
"She's gone, Childe. And you must accept that fact."
"No!"
And like that, the man surges forward with the fury enough to fuel wars.
The walls crumble and the terrified shrieks of townsfolk in the immediate vicinity sound off but Childe could no longer care.
Him and Lumine. The rest of the world does not matter.
His mind goes blank with nothing but white hot anger, and he brandishes his weapon with renewed vigor.
"Take it back." He quietly demands, voice distorted.
Instead of complying, multiple stone steles rise up from the pavement, obscuring the two men from prying eyes.
"Everyone grieves for her departure, I assure you. We are hurt as much as you are." A water blade makes contact with the archon's cheek and he winces as response, "but she chose to sacrifice herself for this world's peace and she will not be happy if she sees you rotting away to your demise, Childe."
"You—you don't know anything! Do not lie! Lumine..." A crack in his composition and Zhongli is quick to take advantage of it.
All at once, like a puppet with strings cut off, Childe falls forward when Zhongli's polearm strikes down his chest. The accumulated hunger and fatigue from weeks of barely holding on to her memory suddenly come crashing down upon his person.
Empty plates and sweet nothings.
Cold bed and pristine kitchen.
Unused scarf with the color of the skies and the clouds—like the view he's witnessing right now.
Stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you—its remnants staying within, slowly consuming that which it latches on to.
The abyss is no more—or so he believes.
"Lumine... she promised me." he whispers into the wind.
The rustling of cloth distracts him from his thoughts.
"Do not lean too close to that edge, Childe. I beg you, not as your friend, but as Lumine's—please, do stay with us."
Before his eyes closed, he heard the call from the deep dark abyss of the waters.
The sea is calm. And he couldn't care less about the rest of the world.
Him and Lumine, he thinks. Him and Lumine.
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Time for the 3rd installment of our Valentine’s Event with none other than, Vil Schoenheit and the word: Kiss requested by @twstdaydreamer This was very fun to write and I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I did.
CW: Alternate Universe: Cinderella and The Beast, OOC, Dark past, and discussion of the death of a loved one.
This ficlet features characters singing certain songs so links will be provided for added experience.
While some lyrics are gendered, the reader still remains gender-neutral.
Word count: 7843
Other works: Chocolate Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd
A Heart from Me to You
There once was a house as beautiful as those who lived in it. Its Lord and Lady produced a beautiful heir who, at a young age, strived for beauty unequaled to anyone in the mortal plane but at the price of the beauty of his own heart. One day, an old woman with a face aged approached the manor to seek shelter from the blistering snow…Only to be turned away with looks of disgust. This angered the lady, removing her form to reveal herself as a powerful goddess who cursed all who lived in that house with an enchanted rose.
This selfishness was what brought upon the family’s curse that when night fell should the family follow. The beautiful boy suffered from the curse the most, in his transformation did he end up killing those loved.
Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.
“How tragic.” You whisper, sitting by the fire with a book on your lap. You enjoyed break times by the fire and being able to read by your lonesome especially when the winters became bitter in Pyroxene. You closed the book just as the head maid came in.
“Oh look at you, you’ve got cinder marks in your uniform. Come here. You must be careful, dear. The cinder marks are harder to wash off than you think.” She said and wiping the still fresh marks off your sleeves. “It was getting cold,” You explained. “But I’ll be careful next time, I promise.”
“Please and thank you.” She smiled at you the way a mother would to her child. “Come along, Vil will be coming home soon. We should go ahead and greet him.” You follow her towards the door just as you thought about Vil. His father was a famous actor that traveled but it wasn’t often that the two of them were in the same house at the same time.
“Welcome back, Vil.” Said the maid and you, bowing your head. “How was the trip?
Vil Schoenheit stood before you, his winter coat shining with fresh snowflakes and noise a sore red. “It went as it should. May I ask for some hot tea with honey?” You could hear the pulled-back shiver in his voice. “Bring it to me in the bath.” His footsteps were quick even in those high-heeled shoes.
“Can I leave it to you?” The head maid asked. “I still need to finish cooking dinner.”
You nod your head and smoothing out your uniform, ready to take on another task as well as the scrutinizing eye of one Vil Schoenheit.
Three knocks on the door and Vil halted in his actions. “Come in.” You opened the door, pushing the tray carrying tea and small biscuits carefully into the warm room. Vil had already exited the tub and dressed in a robe. Just as you had been taught, you poured a cup of tea mixed with honey and presented it to him.
“Thank you.”
Vil was a beautiful being, he really was. The way his body was sculpted and toned made you think he was carved out of fine marble by the finest artisans. His gaze towards you made you realized you were staring too long. “I-I’ll be on my way, Mister Vil. Please enjoy the night.”
“You’re the new one here, aren’t you?”
Vil set down the cup and stood up, the robe seemed to act like a flowing dress that flowed at the floor as he drew closer and closer to you. “I believe you’re the one whose mother passed last autumn.” You nodded your head with a sigh, remembering the stressful days after your mother was laid to rest.
Times were hard for you and your family, after the sudden passing of your mother, all of you had to make ends meet whenever and wherever possible. Your step-father, Mozus Trein, got a position as a professor in a known school while your step-brothers, Angelo and Donovan, set for the Rose Kingdom.
Angelo became a baker’s apprentice while Donovan became a tailor for an apparel shop. You stayed behind in Pyroxene, snagging yourself as a position as part of the staff of the well-known Schoenheit family. While the pay was good, appearances needed to be kept at all times thus why the head maid was often uppity with you especially on your first days.
“Yes.”
“I offer my condolences to you and your family.”
“Thank you…” You say and you look down at your shoes, your chest feeling heavy and empty at the same time. “But the tears have already been shed. All I want to do now is take care of my father and help my brothers.”
There was a smile on his face and he reached over, patting your shoulder with a damp hand. Up close he smelled of clean soap with a hint of citrus. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable. That’s what I want in the people who work here.” He pats your shoulder again with eyes of judgment. “But these marks on your uniform…”
Ah, crap.
“I stay by the fire during my break times.” You admit quickly and Vil only shakes his head. “It would do you good to stay further away. These cinder marks are unsightly.”
“I will keep that in mind, sir.”
He pulled back his arms and turned around as you were about to take your leave. “By the way, I would like to reiterate something while you’re here because I know the other staff will neglect to tell you this one important detail.”
The mirror before him reflected his serious expression, you gulped feeling as if you broke a rule. “When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”
“What’s so special about the second floor?”
All of you ate on a table, the head maid serving up some warm cream stew. “Ah, that.” You gave your bowl to ask for seconds and she much obliged you. The old lady smiled to herself. “Nighttime is the only time Vil can rest,” She explained. “He’s quite the light sleeper so even the softest of sounds will wake him up.”
The look in her eyes was distant and smile knowing as she handed the bowl back to you. “Do you need anything else? We still have some sweet corn and roasted chicken,” she asked, pushing some more food for you to take. You sip at the hot morsel of food after shaking your head. “No, I’m fine.”
The howling winter winds that rattled your window was something you could never shut out of your mind. For as long as you could remember, you had always sought refuge in the beds of your family whether it be your annoyed yet caring brothers or the understanding tiredness of your parents.
Your mother was the best at calming you, though. She always knew exactly what to do…She was your first teacher, your first friend, your primary protector after the split and she became all the more lively after meeting Mozus, your step-father. And while life adjusted itself perfectly for you and your new family, it didn’t hesitate to strike tragedy at the calmest of times.
Your mother, after all the years she had been fighting and keeping her sickness at bay, succumbed one day in front of your step-father. Even with all the magic remedies and medicines in the world to keep her alive, there was no reversing what had already been done.
“I love you.” She said on her death bed, Trein’s hand never leaving his wife’s. “I love all of you very much. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”
You and your brothers dealt with the grief differently, all three of them going off to their little corners for days and never showing their faces to you. It was days after the funeral when you saw your father cry, holding a picture of your mother close to his chest.
Since then, you and your brothers always needed to remind each other that they needed to be strong for their father’s sake. Angelo and Donovan spared no time in snatching every opportunity that they could while you stayed behind.
Vil’s words to you repeated like a record in your head, reminding you of how he viewed you. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable.” The winds rattled and you brought your knees to your chest. Was your resolve, your foundation as strong as Vil saw??
Cutlery colliding against each other broke you out of your thoughts and startling you back to reality. Slipping out of bed and into your shoes, you made your way into the kitchen with your hands holding your coat tightly for warmth. The plates clattered amongst themselves and you hear the tap opening and closing.
You listen in the dark, waiting for the next noises. The footsteps were erratic and almost cobbled, the clicking of plates loud and sudden as if something was trying to walk. Had someone tried to break in? You hear the door to the living room open and shut and you poise yourself to follow but grabbing a nearby frying pan to defend yourself.
Opening the door, you hear the pair of footsteps climb up the stairs and you begin to panic. Vil’s room was up there! Whoever it was, was targeting Vil. Your movements hesitated, remembering the rule Vil himself told you.
“When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”
The dead of night had already come and everything around you was dark save for the lamps that provided little help in the snowstorm. You hesitated to move, weighing the options and their potential consequences. Should you stay and let Vil rest knowing a thief was roaming the halls or should you break the rules and protect him with all you had?
You bolted up the stairs without a second thought and the frying pan clutched tight, panting as you got to the top and looking wildly and trying to listen for the familiar intermittent footsteps. You turn to your side with you hear another door opening and closing and suddenly all the lessons you’ve learned grappling with your stepbrothers come back to you in a flash.
You inch towards the room in the door, turning the knob to open the door with a soft creek that makes your insides cringe. In the middle of the room was a floating flower protected by a glass dome, it was red-pink petals shimmering and lightings its vicinity in the same color.
It was mesmerizing to look at.
Setting the pan down to your side, you walked towards it with your hand stretching out to touch the dome that protected it. You dropped the pan entirely to take the dome off the rose, its glow, even more, hypnotizing up close. Just as your finger touched its soft petals, the window to your side blew open in a torrent of cold wind and unfurling the curtains that moved like the waves of a dark sea.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”
From the darkness within the room, a pair of purple orbs glowed and a growl preceded a warning voice. The intermittent footsteps of a convulsing mannequin were not far off and its happy face brought a lick of terror to your heart.
The creature of the night crawled forwards, its sharp teeth jutting out of its mouth and form menacing and mangled. The windows were soon closed and the curtains dropped to the ground with your foot stepping on the soft fabric.
“Give me the dome.” The monster’s long claws reached out for you and before you stepped back, you slipped; hitting your head on the soft material behind you, the howling winds and the piercing orbs fading to black.
“…I told you not to come in here.”
You stood by the door of your step-father’s study with eyes facing the floor. Angelo and Donovan standing on either side of you. The yellow light gave off a sleepy and exhausted feeling in the realm of books and writing materials. In the very center was a diorama of your family, toys he wanted to surprise the kids with.
And now, the surprise was ruined.
You could feel shame boil in you, it had been only a few months since your mother remarried and you had new brothers to play with…And now your new dad was upset with you. “Come here.” He said, the man suddenly on one knee, your brothers coming over to him in a hug and you followed soon after.
“All of you, such curious little mice.” He said, patting each one of you on the back. “Next time, I want you to ask for permission before you enter the study, alright?” There was a laugh behind you, your mother smiling to herself while she leaned against the doorframe with a blanket over her shoulders. She never got used to the cold she was born in.
“Promise me that.”
“Yes, daddy.” All the children say.
And as you relished the warmth of your new father, something wet trickled down your cheek. Your brother, Angelo, was always the sensitive one of your step-siblings and would not hesitate to stop the sibling tomfoolery the moment things go awry. He held you close, his tears accidentally running down your cheek when you moved, while Donovan sat in the corner with shoulders hunched over. What was once your father’s sleepy study was now the empty hallway of a hospital.
The wind rattled against the windows of the hospital, your mother had succumbed to the sickness on a cold day. And your father was getting everything ready for the eventual end.
“Kids.”
Trein came out of the room, looking older than you remembered. “Your mother would like to talk to you.”
When you turned away from your brother’s embrace, you were seated on the side of your mother’s bed. Her body was sickly and the cold messed with what life remained in her. She smiled at all of you and your eyes began to sting.
“I love you.” She says, her eyes looking so tired. “I love you all very much.” And soon the tears began to fall from her face. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.” You blinked at the hand you held, your mother’s hand soon replaced with Donovan’s as he pulled you from your seat. In his suit, he looked more solemn and his usually long and wild hair was tied back with a ribbon.
“Let’s say goodbye.” He told you and tugged you to the coffin where your mother laid. “Where’s dad?” You turned your head, your hand now vacant and the space behind you a void of nothingness. The door of your father’s study slightly ajar and the familiar yellow light spilling through.
Your steps were echoed and slow, approaching the room slowly. When you were by the door, you peaked through the cracks; your father kneeling on the carpet and holding a figure to his chest. The diorama you once played with in your youth was set up on his table, your mother’s figurine nowhere in sight. There was a held back sob, Trein’s body shaking under his mourning robes.
You took a step back, letting him grieve in his own time.
You knew better than to come in there without permission.
You woke up with a start and a sudden sting to the back of your head. Above you was a chandelier you had no memory of seeing in your quarters and a bed your hands never recognized. Your chest heaved when you pushed yourself up the bed only to be pushed down by the head maid.
“Stay down.” She says, holding your shoulders. The light of the new day filtered through the large window of Vil’s room. Vil stood by the rose with his back facing you, holding the dome to himself just as your breathing leveled and normalized. “You hit your head pretty bad last night,” She explained and felt for the bump that made you hiss.
Last night…
“Was last night real?” You asked, your sudden burst of energy was off-putting especially when you remembered the events leading to the memories you wished to never relish again. “That rose. Was it really glowing? A-and that monster—!”
The dome was placed onto the rose with a loud clack, the glass roughly hitting the marble surface. “T-that’s beside the point!” The maid scolded. “Vil warned you never go to the second floor after the sunsets! Not only did you disobey one of the rules given to you, you hit your head while doing so.”
You bit back a hiss of guilt and opened your mouth to try to retort at your apparent rebellion.
“Elena.”
Vil’s voice was soft yet strict, eyes calm yet sharp. He regarded you for a moment while leaning against the marble table. “Let them be for the day, they’ve hit their head too hard.” You felt yourself shrink under his gaze. “See to it that they have little heavy activities as possible and prioritize that the bump is given care immediately.”
Elena bowed her head, her upset anger still very much apparent.
“Yes, sir.”
Elena’s nimble hands making quick work of dirty dishes. Your head had been bandaged with a compress pressed to where you hit your head. You stared at your meal with little appetite before poking at the grilled fish. “Miss Elena, why does that rose glow?”
The clattering of cutlery stopped and the head maid only sighed, shaking his head. “Always the curious one, aren’t you?” She turned around, leaning against the sink with arms crossed. “That’s one of Vil’s most treasured possessions. An heirloom that came directly from his grandfather then to his father then to him.”
Elena’s eyes looked to the side as if to remember. “I should know. I was there for every passing down. Vil is highly protective of it.”
It might have just been a coincidence, you thought to yourself, that the story you read by the fire had mentioned a rose but that was all there was to it. You ate your breakfast quicker after that. “I’m sorry for my behavior.”
“Next time, listen to your instructions.” She said, taking the plates from you before you could even move an inch to help her.
The feather duster slid against the books, your toes tipping to reach up for the shelves above your head. From there, you took your damp rag and swiped it across the polished wooden table. Yup, this was pretty much not so labor-intensive but it would get painfully boring unless you had some entertainment to go with you so you sang a small song taught to you in your youth.
“A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep.” Your mother loved to sing this song to you and soon, to your new family. Trein especially loved it when they danced together in the living room when the children were ‘seemingly’ asleep. “In dreams, you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep.” You closed your eyes, feeling the memories of the past come with the melody of your song. You remember the first time you snuck out of bed with your brothers to see your parents slow dancing together. “Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.”
You’ve never seen your mother smile so peacefully nor did you ever see her hug someone so intimately before Trein, in fact, you’ve never seen her do any of those things with your old dad. She was happy. “No matter how your heart is grieving...”
You only wished to see that happiness last longer than it should have. If only things stayed the way they did. “If you keep on believing…”
You envisioned your mother holding you close, singing to you one last time. Just like how she did when could still hold you to your chest. Just one last time…
“The dream that you wish…will come true.”
Sighing, you leaned against your broom saddened by what you made yourself remember. “Oh, I’ll never get my work done at this rate.” You say, taking your equipment with you and almost running out the library with a huff. Next to the fireplace, Vil lay on one of the long couches away from sight. It was only when you went out that he rose from his seat and hunched forward to let his hair cover his face.
He stayed silent, relishing the sound of your voice in his head.
During your break time, you decided to stay outside with a group of mice that decided to keep you company. You never understood why but the small animals around your area always seemed to be kind and almost human-like. When one mouse decided to sit by you while nibbling a small piece of leftover cookies did you begin to speak your thoughts.
“Is there something being hidden from me? Or am I being too nosey?”
One mouse approached you, listening to you at your feet. “I know last night wasn’t a dream, I know what I saw.” You say then feeling for the bump on his head. “It was real, I just know it.” There was a small squeak, one of the female mice touched your hand with her small paw as if to say words of reminder.
‘You’re stressing yourself out.’
Grimacing, you pushed yourself up and patting your uniform off the crumbs and dust. “I know.” You tell them and the mice look up to you in curiosity and concern in their beady little eyes. “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’m a strong mouse just like you! I’m sure I can get to the bottom of this, I just…Need to find a better opportunity.”
The mice squeak in affirmation which makes you giggle. “Ahah, I’ll have to figure it out as I go along.” You tell them and look to the house, knowing that you had to get back in quickly. “I should get going, I’ll come back with some good food tomorrow.” You wave at the mice who give sounds of greeting as you leave.
What you saw on the second floor was real. You know it is. And you were going to prove it. You stopped by one of the mirrors, fixing your appearance quickly. “Huh?” Your hand touches the surface, small cracks brushed by your tips as if someone had driven something sharp into it. Looking up at the sky, you smelled frost in the air. Strong winds would accompany the night again, it seems.
The accompanying snowstorm was as fitting as it ever gave you a feeling of stealth. You always wanted to be a kind of spy when you were younger and here you are living the dream, though some nice gear and some goggles would have helped greatly. The wind blows and rattles the windows harshly when you brought yourself up the stairs.
“Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends then somebody bends unexpectedly.”
You walk to the door you saw the beast. Placing a hand on the door to listen. “Just a little change. Small, to say the least. Both a little scared Neither one prepared. Beauty and The Beasy” Hesitantly, you open to turn the door to hear more of the beautiful voice. The room was dark and only the glowing rose giving light to the room around it.
“Ever just the same, ever a surprise,”
A mannequin hunches over a familiar huddle of fur and purple light. The movements of both almost unearthly yet the voice passionate and real…And so familiar. “Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise.”
The winds rattle harshly again and the beast bundles into a ball in Vil’s bed, the mannequin’s hands shakenly placing its hand on the shivering being. “Tale as old as time, tune as old as song. Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change; learning you were wrong.”
You open the door a little wider and watch the scene unfold. Somehow, it wasn’t your place to interfere at such a moment so vulnerable. “Certain as the sun rising in the east, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast ”
The shaking beast’s form calmed itself and the mannequin leaned down, its monotonous face pressing against the mass of fur. A kiss goodnight. The cold of the wind blew through, the mannequin looking at you with its painted eyes. The silence was light and your eyes never leaving each other. Taking a step back, you pulled the door with you until it was shut. Everything was finally coming together.
Vil was the beast.
Breakfast was quiet and the wraps on your head were taken off. Elena made no move or sound to acknowledge you as you ate. “So the beautiful boy cursed by the goddess.” You could hear her hand grip the wet plates tightly and you knew what was coming but, at this point, you didn’t care if you got scolded. “It was Vil, wasn’t it?”
“You were given specific instructions never to go up there at night.” She said sternly.
“It’s him, wasn’t it?” You press again.
“Why are you so pressed on this? What good will it do for you?”
“The mannequin was you, wasn’t it? You were singing to that beast.” Elena fuming, slammed her hand onto the table and that was what made you pull back. “Don’t call him that.” She says and sighs, pulling away from you and straightening her back. “The next time I see you on the second floor, you are out of this house. Do you understand me?”
She takes your empty plates and splashes them into the water. Her breath was harsh and her skin almost sickly looking. A cough leaves her lips and her shoulders shiver. “Would you like some tea?” You ask softly and her shoulders hunch over.
“Yes, dear. Please.”
Just as you took the teapot from the cabinet, she spoke to you again. “Please follow that rule this time. Don’t make this harder for Vil than it has to be.”
You open the kettle and reach for the leaves, hearing the old lady cough.
You were back in the library before the sun began to set and adding wood into the fire for warmth. The snowstorm hadn’t let up since the last night and you were afraid that your quarters was not enough to warm you through the night. Using the heating pair of tongs, you adjust the wood in a way that it would burn properly and not caring if the cinders would cling to your uniform.
During the coldest of nights, you and your mother would love to cuddle by the fire and sleep until the morning. It only became a festive event with the addition of your brothers and your father. She loved the heat, the sleeping feeling it gave her and she loved it the most when Trein held her close.
Your shoulders sag, that was probably the only time you’ve ever seen him at peace. After that…Shaking your head, you push those memories away. You had to be strong, you had to be for the sake of your family. Reaching up, you swat the tears from your face. Your tears had already been wept the day she was buried.
“Stay too close to the fire and your uniform will get singed.”
Vil stood behind the couch, a warm blanket over his shoulders and hair despite being messy made him look immaculate. “I have a request.”
“What is it?”
“You can sing, correct? And sing well.” Ah, you’re not sure if you could answer that one wholeheartedly. Gulping, you nod your head. “I can sing, yes, but well, not really—.” Vil’s huff was hard and eyebrows furrowed. “Do not hide what good you have. It will not grow unless you expose it.”
“O-of course.” You nod your head and Vil closes his eyes. You noticed bags, his skin slightly paled. “Are you here because of the storm, Vil?” Nodding his head, Vil sank down next to you with a sigh. “The windows become too loud at night…I don’t like the sound of it.”
“I understand. I’m not much a fan of it myself.”
“We’re veering off-topic.” He looks to you, “Can you sing for me? At least for a moment.” The windows rattle and he closes his eyes again. You move, patting your lap for him to rest on and he gives you a look. “My mother used to do this to me. It beats having to lay down on flat ground.”
He is hesitant at first but follows after a few minutes of pondering. He lays on your lap, getting himself comfortable and you adjust the blanket on top of him. “Any requests?”
“Anything that will help me sleep.”
The winds rattle and his shoulders hunch. “Alright.”
“Oh, sing sweet nightingale. Sing sweet nightingale high above me.”
Vil’s eyes open ever so slightly, his violet eyes staring in the fire. Any moment, he would transform into the beast of the night. A curse passed down from generation to the next and yet, you stayed to sing. “Sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale high above.”
Elena had not been feeling well recently, her old age and the blistering cold made for one bad fever that she needed rest for. And while Vil was understanding of that, the winds that rattled the windows never ceased to let him sleep.
“Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale.”
But that soon changed when he heard you sing in this very library. It reminded him of the soft coo of a dove and the warmth of a wool blanket. “Oh, sing sweet nightingale sing…” His eyes felt heavy and soon his body became weightless, he yearned for the days he could walk out in the sun without fear of the night that was to come.
He yearned for the day he would no longer be afraid…
He yearned deep within his heart.
“Sing sweet nightingale…”
A black beast laid in the place where Vil once was, its gnarly teeth the same purple as Vil’s eyes. Your hands brushed the black fur as the fire crackled and spat cinders from within. The beast, no, Vil’s body laying peacefully on your lap. You move, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and his body only moving to keep warm against you.
“High above me…”
The enchanted rose glowed dimly, its first petals beginning to fall to the countertop beneath it.
Your eyes open and the wood that once fueled the fire was reduced to ashes. Elena stood over you while Vil, in his human form, slept peacefully on your lap. The two of you shared glances and you immediately opened your mouth.
“I didn’t go upstairs this time.”
She knelt, adjusting the blanket over the sleeping boy’s long figure. You noticed how his body looked in this position, not too lanky and not too toned…but skin so pale from the days he never went out. Come to think of it, he never usually went out unless he needed to. And when he came back, he would stay in for long periods before taking his leave again.
Suddenly, you thought about his parents and wondering if they knew of his situation. Where were they? What happened to them??
Were they affected by the curse as well?
“I’ll bring the breakfast here,” Elena says. “You stay here and watch over Vil.”
Vil had no qualms about eating in the library, given that the fire was warm and the meal was hot. It helped after the bad snowstorm that passed the house for days. You noticed he had a small appetite and a big penchant for drinking lots of fluids. Well, he is a model so you don’t blame him for following the strict regimens.
“You have a nice voice,” Vil says, putting down his cup. “Thank you for last night. I hope that my beastly form wasn’t much of a problem to you.”
Shaking your head, you quickly swallow the stew you were eating. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I’m happy you think that but…About that form.” You feel Elena’s gaze on you and you force yourself to bite back a lingering question.
Vil himself was also silent. “If they’re going to stay here then they should know.” Elena’s shoulders relaxed but her expression remained unsure. “Vil, are you—.”
“I know a person with ulterior motives when I see it.” He looks over to you with a small smirk and boy does it match the messy hair and too droopy clothing. “What we have with us is nothing more than a curious little mouse.”
And you don’t whether that was an insult or a compliment but your squinting eyes only fueled his laughter, those shoulders of his bopping under the protective blanket. “Then what I saw…”
“Everything you saw was real, down to the very last petal of the rose.”
You knew it! You were right!! A smile graced your lips and you sat back against the chair you sat on. Vil took a sip and proceeded to ask more questions, some of which you didn’t have a direct answer to. “Now that you have all the information you need, what will you do with it?”
You looked down at your plate, mulling it over. “Nothing.” You answer. “You called me a curious mouse with no ulterior motive so I’ll do nothing with it.”
Vil hid his smile behind the cup of tea and Elena only sighed, a small burden lifting from her shoulders as the two of you spoke casually.
Vil was moved to the second floor, letting him rest on a real bed. You look around the room, seeing it with proper lighting for the first time. All the mirrors were covered in cloth, some cracked. The paintings that hung on the wall looked immaculate, beautifully painted…Except for one figure whose face was splashed with black. Your brows furrowed, trying to identify who this person was.
“I assume you still have more questions, little mouse.”
Vil sat up, motioning you forward to sit on the edge. ���Who is he?” The family’s portrait hung as a centerpiece, you could identify a baby Vil, and his parents sitting across from each other…But that one person standing over them; you couldn’t make heads or tails of it with all the black paint in the way.
“My grandfather.”
A long sigh left Vil, his finger tucking a hair behind his ear. “Before my father went into acting, he was part of the family business led by my grandfather.” He closed his eyes, imagining the warm shop that housed many items and the many people coming in and out to buy supplies. A small Eric would clumsily put grocery items into a paper bag and wrap it, his father looming over him as he collected payments.
“He was strict when needed but his anger knew no bounds when it was released.” Vil slid down onto his bed. “Running a business is difficult, I understand that, but these fits were often quite scary to witness.” Staring into the rose’s glow, the light formed shadows of a figure hunching over a screaming beast. “It led him down a path of ruin, they went out of business and struggled during the bad brunt of the storm season.”
“He wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions, was he?” Vil shook his head at your question. “Not by a long shot. That was the very same anger that led to all this in the first place.” He looked up at the painting with contempt as if the painting stared back at him the same way. “Try as he may, my father could never outrun the curse…Even after I saw born.”
You remembered the book, the story you read by the fire. “Then…”
Vil’s hummed a laugh, eyes blinking slowly. The shadows formed by the glow of the rose moved to a scared family and a shaking figure holding a shadow of the rose. “He yelled at the wrong people, made enemies of those with magic far stronger than anyone could ever imagine.”
The shadows drew dimmer, the beastly form taking shape, roaring at the rose with all its fury and behind it was a weeping family. It all dissipated like a breaking film tape under Vil’s sigh.
Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.
Your heart felt heavy, remembering the last line of the story. “I’m sorry.” That was all you could say to him but he hunched his shoulders with a dismissiveness. “What happened has passed. As you said before: the tears have already been shed.” The rose’s petals fall to the floor below it.
“Is there a way to reverse this?”
“An open heart.” he looked over to you with a smile unable to be read. “That’s all.”
You hung your head, unable to say anything. Vil only wraps his blanket around himself tighter while you stare at the glowing rose until its ethereal color was seared into your memory.
There was a splash of water, Vil sits in the tub with you preparing his robe and other items. “The snow should have receded by now. We could take a walk if you’d like.” As days passed through the house, you and Vil had grown closer. Now that either of you had nothing to hide, the tension that once felt between you was almost nonexistent.
“It has been a while since I’ve gone out. Some sunlight would do all of us good.” He said, leaning back on the tub with eyes closed. “A day in the sun…”
“Indeed. It would be nice to feel some warmth.” You learned that you and he weren’t very different. Both of you loved music, loved the theatre, just anything to dance to. And you also found out that Vil himself had a wonderful singing voice, almost like velvet.
“All those days in the sun, what I’d give to relive just one. Undo what’s done and bring back the light.”
You found out that his mother passed when he was young and his father, Eric, raised him all on his own after his mother was out of the picture. He was Vil’s first teacher, first friend, his support clutch in understanding why he was the way he was. “Days in the sun will return. We must believe—.”
“As lovers do…”
Your voices mingled together and while embarrassed to admit it, you had listened to it to his movies while cleaning. He may have caught you a few times, though. “That days in the sun…Will come shining…Through…” His deep beautiful voice echoed through the chamber, you imagined hearing it in a large theatre. Oh, you were certain Vil would love to do that.
“I always wondered why you never tried theatre.” You didn’t need to turn around to know his expression. “Do you think I’ll make it there, little mouse?”
“You’re Vil Schoenheit, son of Eric Venue. Of course, you will!”
A comfortable silence followed his laugh while you continued to face away from him. The Zen between you two almost unbreakable in the warm bathing room. The flower’s glow dimmed in the emptiness and losing more petals that piled beneath it.
With the music playing in the back, Vil watched from the balcony after getting his fair share of sunlight after the storm had passed. The voice of his father was rich and melodious as his role of a man finally falling in love after years of isolation.
He watched as you trudged around the snow before going back to his room, not once looking at the dimming rose and straight to his television. “I was the one who had it all,” His father sang. “I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.” The first time he had transformed into the beast he knew today, he had scared the recently hired help.
“I’ll never shake away the pain.” They were very cruel with their words, to the point that it was Elena, of all people, who told them to leave the house. Though the terror had left, it left Vil with uncertainty and fear of his appearance.
Eric’s character peered out the window just as the heroine pulls out a horse, the determination not hidden from even the viewer. “I close my eyes but she’s still there. I let her steal into my melancholy heart, it’s more than I can bear.” And now you took that place. From the get-go, Vil knew you have gone through hardships of your own. He could see it just by looking at your steeled expression and the aura you held on your shoulders.
“Now I know she’ll never leave me even as she runs away.” Not only had you defied the rule twice, your curiosity only spurred you further on with your investigation. And even when you had all the information you needed and cracked the code, you did nothing with it. “She will torment me, calm me, hurt me, move me…Come what may.”
Vil stands up just as Eric’s character runs up the stairs, the spiraling staircase almost hypnotic from above. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.” He comes back to the balcony and opens the door, seeing you and Elena hauling in the bag of chestnuts. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in…” The two of you catch each other’s line of sight.
“And be with me for evermore.”
As the two of you smiled at each other, the rose begins to wilt and hunch over with each petal falling from the stem. The smell of spring drew close, Vil took a deep breath in then sighed it out. When he closes his eyes, all he ever sees are the days he’ll spend with you.
And the envisioning of a grand theatre, the same one he first saw his father in. He begins humming a small tune, thinking of the harmonizing violins, the beautiful costumes, and designs. The rose wilts more, only one petal remains on its dying stem.
The days had passed all so quickly, the winter giving its way to spring them to summer. You stood in front of the theatre, your family next to you. Trein takes you by the hand “Shall we?” entering the grand theatre, you and your sibling marveled at the beautifully crafted designs, the plush seating, and the long curtains.
“It’s beautiful.” Said your father, his smile soft. “Thank you for bringing us here.”
Angelo and Donovan pushed along, overly excited for the play. “Come on, come on.” One of them says. “It’s about to begin! Let’s sit down.”
The lights dim and the curtains open, droves of characters coming in their beautifully crafted costumes. You see Vil in his costume, waltzing with another character in yellow. The horns placed onto him were just as beautiful as him yet, after seeing his breast-like form…It never stood a chance.
The stage dimmed when he took the stage, a single rose in hand. His voice was loud, pure, perfect as he sang the song of a man who found love after years of isolation. His expression perfectly encapsulating the sadness he had felt.
“I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light.”
You remember the very first moment he bore his heart to you, the moment he asked you to sing for the very first time. “Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach, she’s never out of sight.” Gone were the days he hid within the confines of his room and gone were the days he needed to hide out of fear.
“Now I know she’ll never leave me even if she fades from view!”
He twirls, his eyes searching the crowd until he finds yours in the crowd. “She will still inspire me, be a part of everything I do.” The background behind him changes, the spiraling staircase he walks one moved at his every move until he reaches the balcony, leaning his hands to sing his heart out with a hopeful look. The both of you stare at each other as he sings his heart out, saying the words he wanted everyone to hear with a voice he no longer feared. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.”
He breathes, the wind and strings instruments beginning their strong ascend in a crescendo of harmonizing and accenting melody. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in.”
The rose glows in his hand and he hunched his back, readying himself. “And as the long, long nights begin.”
Vil looks up into the light, his expression one of pure passion and love. “I’ll think of all that might have been.” And the grip on the rose tightens but only for a moment.
“Waiting here…For ever—.”
Vil lets the rose float out of his hand and ascends up to the center of the room.
“—More!” The flower burst into a rain of petals that add to his last note and accompaniment of the instruments.
The last petal of the glowing rose falls, the stem falling on a pile of dried rose petals following the applause of the crowd. Vil regains his breathing, his eyes listless as he stares up at the ceiling when the music ends, the curtains fall, and the lights go out.
You pass through the crowds of colors and thrills, looking for the familiar mop of blond and purple hair. “Vil!” You yell out to him just as he comes to view in the sea of people. His arms are ready to take it in, “You were amazing out there!”
The sun begins to set during the embrace, Vil’s face continued to smile at you and soon giving a solemn bow to your father and brothers. “Mr. Schoenheit, it’s a pleasure to meet you. That was a wonderful performance.” He says, smiling at him with eyes trained to your hands holding the actor’s. Ah, gets it.
“Thank you, Mr. Trein. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Vil Schoenheit, you’re needed for a picture.” Says one of the stage crew and Vil reluctantly pulls away. “Coming. I’ll see you later?” He asks you and you tip your toes to him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “I’ll wait outside. Bye Vil.”
You run out of backstage and yet he had a feeling that finding you won’t be that much of a problem. He touches his lips. “So this is love…” He whispered to himself and made his way to his troop, readying himself for the pictures.
#works from the typewriter#twisted wonderland#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#g/n reader#valentines event
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My Little Family: Fatgum
*In this Oneshot you, the reader, are Overhaul’s wife but not by choice. You are 22 years old and have a 4 year old son. Let’s just say Overhaul took over at like idk 18. I also may e v e n t u a l l y turn this into a book.*
“Alright, is there anything else I should know?” Fatgum asked as he finished listening to Rappa’s explanation of Overhaul’s true plans. Rappa went quiet for a second, before speaking up. “Yeah, you guys are here for the kid, right?” He asked, looking Fatgum in the eye, and for the first time during this entire encounter was completely serious. Fatgum nodded. “Yeah, we are. Why?” “Because there’s someone else y’gotta get outta here.” Fatgum looked confused for a second. Someone else? But who else could be here? Whoever it is still needs help, and as long as a fight isn’t involved he should be fine. “Who? Our intel only knew about Eri.” Rappa shook his head, “From what I know this was from before Eri. Listen, it doesn’t matter now what matters is you get ‘er outta here.” “I agree, but who is ‘she’?” Rappa sighed and looked at Fatgum once again. “Overhole’s wife. She’s got their kid with her too.” Fatgum was visibly taken a back at Rappa’s statement. He had a wife!? And a kid?! Rappa noticed his confusion and decided to elaborate. “From what I found out he was given her from a Yakuza agreement or something like that. Anyways, he needed a wife and an heir for him to take over so he married her and they had the kid. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you he’s not exactly husband or dad material so you really need to get em out.” Fatgum was even more disgusted with Overhaul than he originally had been. Not only had he done unspeakable things to Eri, but he also kidnapped a woman, forced her to get married and then locked her and their son away! Oh no, not happening. “Where are they?” “I don’t know the specifics, but I know they’re on this level, by the office I think” Just then the cops entered the room and took Rappa and Tengai into custody, also taking an unconscious Kirishima to the ambulance. “You guys go ahead, there’s someone else we gotta get outta here.” The cops nodded and a few went with him, since he couldn’t exactly fight at full capacity anymore. They started down the winding hallways, desperately searching for the woman and her child. *smash* Fatgum looked into the room of the door he had just kicked down. He looked the right and saw a young, beautiful woman sitting in the corner holding a small boy with dark brown hair and golden eyes huddled to her chest.
(insert picture of ‘Kenji Chisaki’)
He walked in and slowly made his way towards her. “Hello Miss, I’m the pro hero Fatgum, we’re here to get you out.” He gave his signature smile and felt his heart flutter when the woman started crying happy tears, while her son perked up at the mention of ‘pro hero Fatgum’. Fatgum smiled, “Can I have your name miss…?” She stood up, considerably shorter than the taller male, still holding the small boy in her arms. “It’s Y/n…Y/n Chisaki.” Fatgum then looked to the small boy, “And what’s your name little man?” The little boy then looked at his mom who nodded and looked shyly back to the hero. “I-It’s Kenji…Kenji Chisaki.” “Well Kenji, Mrs. Chisaki, We’re here to get ya outta here, let’s go.” He held a hand out to the woman who slowly, but gratefully took it. He led them outside where he left them with some cops and went to find Kirishima.
*After the whole fight, we are now in the hospital.*
(Insert picture of hospitalized Fatgum)
“I’m hungry” Fatgum mumbled as he sat in his hospital bed, messy blond hair going every which way. He sighed as he looked around the room. He knew he had to be here, but did he have to be here?! Not only was It boring but he couldn’t even get a decent portion of food! All he really wanted was to go home to his own bed and sleep. Right after food of course. Just then there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” He loudly answered. The door nob turned and in walked a woman with h/l h/c hair, holding a bag in one hand, and the smaller hand of a little boy in the other. “I hope I’m not interrupting, but a little someone,” She smiled as she looked down to the small boy, who shyly looked away. “Wanted to say thank you.” Fatgum smiled widely and looked down to the little boy. “Not at all! I’m glad you stopped by! You two are welcome anytime.” He ruffled the little boys hair and smiled at the woman, taking this moment to realize how beautiful she was. The little boy’s eyes shined with amazement at the hero, who he had always admired. He didn’t have the best upbringing. And even though he’s only four he knew what his father did was bad. He knew because how he treated his mother was bad. Y/n always did her best to shield him from her husband, putting on a fake smile and trying to give her son a chance at a normal childhood. She also did anything she could to stop him from turning into the cold blooded Yakuza leader his father wanted him to be. So, instead of teaching him to hate quirks, she taught him the different types. Instead of training him to hate heroes, she told him about all the different ones. Fatgum had been his favorite. Y/n did everything she could to give her son a better life, and she had also reaped plenty of consequences for it, but if it was for her baby, it would be worth it. So when her son asked if he could see the hero, she reached out to Aizawa who set up the meeting. Kenji shyly looked down to his feet, hands clasped behind his back. “U-uhm…mm.. Thank you…for saving me and mommy.” The boy looked up at him and smiled. Fatgum smiled back patting the young boy on the head, eliciting a small giggle from him. Y/n could feel the tears starting to gather, she couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled like that. Let alone laugh! “It’s not a problem little guy. I’m just glad you and your mommy are safe.” Fatgum looked at Y/n before looking back down to Kenji. Kenji nodded and went back to his mother’s side, lightly grasping her pants leg. Kenji, can you wait outside with the nice Police officer please? Mommy just wants to talk to Mr. Fatgum.” Kenji nodded and waved goodbye to the hero, who happily waved back. “He really likes you. You’re actually his favorite hero, he’s just too shy to say it.” Y/n smiled and lightly giggled. Fatgum’s eyes widened and he felt his face get hotter, he quickly averted his eyes, shyly laughing. “I just wanted to say thank you…I know I already did, but, I just can’t thank you enough for saving my son.” She looked up at him with soft features, and a grateful smile on her face. “It’s really no problem Mrs. Chisaki.” “Y/n, just call me Y/n. I haven’t gotten our names changed yet, but I want to start over.” “That reminds me, what are you doing? Living arrangements and all?” “Well, right now we’re staying at UA in one of the spare teacher’s dorms. They wanted to keep us close by in case one of ka- Overhaul’s men came to find us. It’s not permanent, but until I can find a job it’ll work.” Fatgum thought for a moment. “Hey, have you got your heart set on somethin yet?” She shook her head “No, not many places are interested in hiring the ex-wife of Overhaul. Despite the circumstances.” “If I offered you a job…would you be interested?” Y/n looked at him in shock. “W-wait, really!?” He nodded. “Yup. Everyone deserves a second chance. There’s even a really good day-care Kenji can go to right across from my agency.” “Are you sure?! I don’t want to be a burden-“ “Y/n.” She looked at him, heart beat speeding up at seeing his smile, “I promise you would never be a burden.” Y/n thought for a moment. “Okay. I accept. Thank you!” She leaned forward and hugged him. He was shocked for a moment before his senses kicked in and he hugged back, well with one arm but still. Y/n as soon as she realized what she did jumped back. “Sorry! I didn’t realize! I didn’t hurt you did I?!” He laughed “Don’t be sorry! I hugged back didn’t I? And despite the bandages it’s really not that bad. I think the doctors went overkill.” Y/n lightly laughed and smiled. They both were sitting there, both admiring the other. “O-oh! I almost forgot!” Fatgum watched with curiosity and amusement as the young woman fumbled with her bad before she took out a Tupperware container. She handed it over to him and she encouraged him to open it. He opened the lid revealing home made Takoyaki. His eyes widened and he felt like he could burst into happy tears at the sight in front of him. “I hope they’re okay, it’s been awhile since I got to cook them from scratch.” He took one and ate it, it was amazing! “It’s amazing!!” She laughed, really happy he enjoyed it. “I take it you like them then?” He quickly nodded his head. “Okay then, I can bring you more tomorrow. I just figured you’d like it more than the hospital food.” He looked her dead in the eye and nodded. “Definitely. And only if its no trouble.” “Its not, honest. It was really nice to get back to cooking. It’s a big hobby of mine.” “Well, whenever you need a taste tester, you know where to find me!” He had a dorky grin on his face as he looked at her, and she couldn’t help but grin at how he looked like a little kid at a playground. She broke herself out of her thoughts and decided it was time she and Kenji head home. “Um, I should probably get Kenji home, it’s almost dinner time. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you don’t want to keep the kid out too late. And sure, feel free to stop by whenever! Especially with food as good as this!” She laughed and made her way to the door, waving goodbye and leaving the hospital with Kenji holding her hand, going on and on about the cool hero.
*One year later* (Time skip because I am author and I hold all power~)
Y/n woke up and rolled over onto her side to run off the alarm she had set on her phone. She yawned, sat up and stretched, getting out of bed to start the day. She showered, brushed her teeth, did her hair/make up and got dressed. She wore her usual for work, a silky white button up blouse with jeans and black heels. She finished up getting ready and made her way to her son’s room. The past year has been amazing. Shortly after she started working for Fatgum, she and Kenji moved into a small home, and the BMI hero grew very close to the duo. Fatgum very often ate dinners with them before going to patrol, he spent a lot of time with them often going to the park with them and stuff like that. He even went with Kenji to is father’s day event at school. To most who didn’t know them, they looked like a little family. If only it was made known how much both of them wanted just that. To be a little family. She opened her sons door and walked over to his bed, crouching down. She gently shook him awake, “Kenji, Kenji baby it’s time to get up.” The little boy slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them and sitting up trying to wake up. “Good morning.” Y/n smiled at her sleepy kid. “Morning mommy…do I get to see Tashiro today?” “Yup, you’ll be coming to my office after school today.” He nodded and smiled a sleepy smile up at his mom. “C’mon, lets get you ready for school.” He nodded and got out from his bed, walking over to his little dresser and getting ready. After they both had breakfast and Y/n had made the three of them lunch (she made Fatgum lunch everyday) they both loaded into the car. Y/n dropped Kenji off at school and made her way to the Fatgum agency to start her day. She got in, greeted the receptionist and made her way into the elevator. She was just about to close the doors when, “HEY! WAAAAAIITT!!” She looked up to see a frazzled looking Kirishima swiftly running her way. She swiftly threw her hand in the way, pausing the doors from closing, allowing the young red head to enter. “Thanks Mrs. Chisaki! I thought I was gonna have to take the stairs again!” she smiled and gave him a playful flick on the forehead. “Maaaaybe if you had been here earlier, you wouldn’t have had to run~ And I thought I told you Y/n was fine.” Over the past year, Kirishima and Tamaki had become like her little brothers. They both tried their best to be good friends for her after what she had been through, and they always babysat and looked out for Kenji. Kenji had been having a rough time at school. Ever since the kids and teachers found out whose son he was, he wasn’t treated as kindly as he should have been. One day when he was playing at recess a group of 4th graders had ganged up on him and started to beat him up, only for him to discover his quirk. No one was injured, just scared. But when they realized he not only had the looks, name and quirk of his father, they treated him poorly. Y/n had relentlessly fought the school on this, but they never listened to her. After being called some crude words by the principal a suited up Fatgum made his way down to the school to discuss the boys treatment. Lets just say Kenji was treated much nicer now. “I’m sorry Mrs. Y/n…It’s really unmanly of me to be late isn’t it!” Y/n sighed and shook her head. Unable to hide the smile on her lips. “Everybody had those days Kirishima, just be glad you’re not actually late.” He gave her his signature smile just as the doors opened up. “I’m gonna go get ready, see ya later Mrs. Y/n!” “Bye Kirishima!” Y/n waved and made her way to the staff room to get some coffee and put their lunches in the fridge. Y/n, accompanied by her caffeinated goodness, made her way to Fatgum’s office. She opened the door and went in. Fatgum’s head shot up from his desk, and a big goofy smile adorned his face when he saw who it was that had entered his office. “G’mornin Y/n!” Y/n made her way to the small desk she had in his large office. “Good morning Taishiro! Oh! Before I forget, Kenji wanted to know if you’d be at dinner tonight?” He looked up from his desk, same cheeky smile still on his face, “Just Kenji, Huh?” Y/n rolled her eyes, once again unable to hide the smile that came to her lips. Playing along she leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. “*sigh* Yeah, I tried to get him to pick someone else, but he just can’t be convinced.” Fatgum let out a hearty chuckle. “I’ll be over tonight, can’t miss out on seeing my favorite bud!” Y/n looked at him, smile still on her face. “Just him?” Fatgum looked back at her, “Not just Kenji.” The two were smiling like love-sick teenagers looking into each other’s eyes. “U-um, can w-we get on w-with patrol n-now…” They both swiftly looked over to see a very embarrassed Tamaki to be sitting on the couch, right where he had been the entire time the two adults had been so obviously flirting. Y/n sat back and buried her nose in paperwork, and Fatgum cleared his voice, popping one last Takoyaki into his mouth. “Yeah I guess we should get going. C’mon Suneater! Lets grab Red and get goin, yeah?” The young man just nodded, giving Y/n a small ‘good bye’ and walking out the door. “I’ll see ya later Y/n.” “See you Later Taishiro.” With one last smile, he left for a long day of saving the city.
~Time skip to after patrol and Kenji is in the office~
Fatgum sighed as he opened the door to his office. Today had been an especially rough day. Not only had he used up all of his stored fat, but he also had to do a bunch of paperwork. He was not looking forward to that. But he was looking forward to seeing his two favorite people. He walked in and immediately heard little feet, looking to his left he watched as Kenji ran up to him and clutched his legs, looking up to him. “Hi Tashiro! How was patrol!” He couldn’t help but to grin at the smiling little boy looking up at him. Over the past year Kenji and Y/n have become more than friends to him. They’ve become his family. He’s grown very attached to the two, and he has every intention of taking care of them for the rest of his life. If only he could tell Y/n how he feels. Maybe then he could be Kenji’s actual dad…and maybe someday he could be Y/n’s husb- “Tashiro!” He snapped out of his trance, glancing down to the boy before picking him up and swinging him around. He then stopped spinning and just held the boy, leaning away so he could talk to him. “Not bad little guy! How was school today?” Kenji sighed looking away, his golden eyes slightly squinting. “…Not good..” Fatgum’s grin fell as he looked at the little boy who was avoiding his gaze. “Hey, what happened?” Kenji looked at Fatgum, Golden eyes filled with shame and sadness. “The kids kept calling me names. They call me ‘Overhaul’ or ‘killer’ and ‘villain’! But I’m not! I’m not any of those things!” Fatgum felt his heart break at the sight of the little boy’s eyes filling with tears. “I-I don’t, don’t want my name. I hate it! I hate him!” He lunged forward in Fatgum’s arms, hugging his neck tightly as he cried into his shoulder, Fatgum only held him tighter. “Hey, hey you’re not any of those things! And you’re definitely not his son, maybe by blood, but if home is what you make it, then family is too! Don’t listen to those kids, you know who you are, you’re a good person Kenji, and you’re turning out into an amazing hero,” Fatgum smiled at him, and helped Kenji wipe some of his tears away. Just then Y/n walked into the office, completed paperwork in her hands. “Hey, what happened?” Y/n had a concerned look on her face as she made her way over to Fatgum and Kenji. Fatgum carefully handed her Kenji and she soothingly rubbed his back trying to help him calm down. “Was it about school today?” Fatgum nodded and Y/n kissed the top of his head whispering a few ‘You’re okay baby’ and ‘it’s okay’ to try and calm him down. “Hey, why don’t we go ahead home for dinner? Then maybe play some games?” Kenji sat up, rubbing his eyes he nodded. “As much as I want to, I have to-“ “Do paperwork?” Y/n said as she held up the already completed paperwork with a cheeky grin. “I had the secretary send it over when you got it. You can thank Tamaki later for telling me. Fatgum let out a long sigh of relief, a big smile gracing his lips. “Man I love you.” His face went red as he said those words. SHOOT. SHE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HEAR THAT!!! Y/n blushed but turned around, setting Kenji on the ground, a ridiculous smile on her face. “Go ahead and get changed, I’ll get the car ready.” She gave him a sincere smile, trying to hide how incredibly happy and flustered she was at his statement. Y/n and Fatgum had been flirting for a while now. They both had a pretty good idea of how the other felt, but neither one wanted to complicate things. One was scared of making her uncomfortable, and the other didn’t want to be a burden for the already hard working hero. But enough was enough. Fatgum was not a ‘sit on the sidelines and wait’ kinda guy. He loved Y/n and Kenji with his whole heart. He couldn’t care less who Kenji’s biological dad was, because he knew if given the choice Kenji would choose him in a heartbeat. Just like Fatgum would choose him and Y/n over his hero agency. Tonight, he was going to tell her his idea. He got changed into his casual clothes (dark wash jeans, white t-shirt with a blue button up, unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up.) and met up with Y/n and Kenji, getting into the car and driving to their house. They got out and headed inside, and while Y/n made some f/f Fatgum played heroes with Kenji. “No fair! I wanna be Fatgum! He’s so cool!” Fatgum teased as he ‘tried to reason’ with the six year old. “mmmmm…” Kenji pretended to think for a moment, “No. I wanna be Fatgum tonight. You can beeeee…” Kenji looked around until he spotted his All Might action figure. “You can be All Might.” Fatgum sighed in fake sadness. “Alright, I guuueesss I can deal with All Might.” Kenji giggled and started running around the room, Fatgum running after him. Y/n stood in the doorway watching as her son played with her crush. She originally came up to say dinner was ready, but after watching this? She couldn’t just stop it! It was too cute! When Fatgum had eventually caught up to Kenji he swung him up on his shoulders, the six-year old’s giggles still hadn’t stopped. “Alright you two, dinners ready.” Both of their ears perked at the sound of dinner, and Kenji scrambled down to go and wash his hands before he took a seat at the table. “Y’know, I think ya might wanna get him into a doctor.” Fatgum said as he made his way over to the doorway. “Oh?” Y/n looked at him with a questioning eyebrow raised. “He’s the one kid on the planet that would pick me over All Might!” Y/n let out a light hearted laugh, “What can I say? He might be a little biased.” Y/n teased. Fatgum shook his head as he laughed. Him and Y/n then made their way down to the dining table. They all took their seats, said a small prayer, and began to eat their food. When they finished Fatgum and Y/n noticed Kenji had been a little antsy in his chair. “Hey bud, you ok? Your squirmin’ quite a bit there!” Kenji looked a little uncomfortable for a bit avoiding both of their gazes before he looked at them both, gaining a little confidence in the loving looks they both were giving to him. “I….I want to change my name….I don’t like having his name….I want…someone else’s..” The last part was quiet so they didn’t really hear it, but they knew he didn’t want ‘Chisaki’ any longer. And to be honest, neither did Y/n. (OOKAY I KnOw that when Y/n and Overhaul divorced then her name could have been changed back to her original name, buuuuut please bear with me, for SOME reason she couldn’t.) “I know, and I’m sorry Kenji, it’s just really hard. We’ll go to the court house tomorrow, okay?” Kenji looked a little hopeful, but he knew it would go like it always did. They would see ‘Chisaki’ and wouldn’t even try to change it. Even seemingly ‘quirkless’ and imprisoned people were still scared of him. Which is exactly why they wanted to change it!! “Wait.” They both looked over to Fatgum who had a serious look on his face. “Kenji, do you think you can wait just a little bit longer?” Kenji looked at him confused but nodded his head nonetheless. Y/n looked at him, still not quite getting what he was implying. “Taishiro…what…what do you mean?” Fatgum turned completely in his chair to face Y/n, taking her hands in his, he looked her straight in the eyes, “I mean, if you can wait just a little bit longer, will you take mine instead?” Y/n felt her heart swell with his words. “Tashiro..w-what do you mean!?” Kenji asked, “I mean, if you’re mom will have me, I want to be your dad Kenji. I want us to be a happy little family.” He smiled at the boy, whose eyes were lit up in hopefulness. He then looked back to see Y/n who was crying happy tears, “Y/n…Will you marry me?” Y/n wiped her eyes and nodded, letting out a laugh as she tried to stop crying. “Yes, yes I will.” Fatgum grasped her in a tight hug and Kenji leaped down from his chair to join the now family hug. “I love you Y/n, Kenji. So, so much!” Y/n smiled and kissed his cheek. And Kenji just buried himself further into his chest. “We love you too daddy!” When Fatgum ran into the Shie Hassaikai base, he expected a fight, blood, tears, and maybe even death. But he never could have expected to come out of it with his whole world. His little family.
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they were roommates - part four
a weasley twins x fem!reader fic
summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.
an: thank you for all the lovely messages i’ve been getting lately, everyone has been overwhelmingly sweet it’s great, love u always <333
words: 4,456
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here?” George asked the girl, who was taking a well-deserved rest on the sofa with a magazine propped up on her knees.
“Yes, you don’t need to worry. I’ll let you know if anything happens.” She chuckled, seeing how nervous they were about leaving her, even if it was just for one evening.
“Do you really want to be left all alone?” Fred seemed concerned, “With the ghosts?” He teased.
“Stop it freddie,” She groaned, knowing better than to believe him, but fully aware that every noise would spook her now. “Now, go. Both of you,” She swotted the man’s shoulder as George joined him in the living room. “And say hi to Ginny for me, tell her I miss her.”
“God, anyone would think you like her more than us!” They huffed, taking their place in the fireplace with handfuls of floo powder.
“Well-” She started, seeing the men’s faces drop in unison. “I’m kidding, I could never.” The girl grinned, waving goodbye as they announced their family home and left for the night.
Suddenly the loft felt very empty, and spooky. Maybe Fred was telling the truth about the ghosts?
-
The twins landed in their mother’s fireplace, dusting off their smart jackets with a sniffle. It always was a hassle to use the floo line home, that damn chimney was blocked up with all sorts that clogged their noses.
“Darlings!” Mrs Weasley called out, dragging them into a room and yet another hurried hug as she had no time to spare with dinner ready in only a few minutes.
“Sorry we’re a bit late.” Fred apologised, smacking Ron on the back of the head lightly as he walked past.
“Wanker,” His little brother mumbled, ignoring them.
“That’s okay, as long as you’re here.” Molly replied, using her wand to direct a multiple of bowls onto the table before them.
Ginny sat in between Harry and Hermione, who had made it a habit of theirs to join in on family dinners at the Weasley’s. Not that anyone ever complained, the more the merrier eh?
“Y/n says she misses you,” George whispered to his sister, not wanting the bombardment of questions about their houseguest until a little bit later.
“Tell her I’ll have a day off soon, hermione and I will swing by and we can go shopping or something.”
“You’ve told Hermione about her?” Fred chimed in, obviously a bit worried.
“Well of course I have, she can’t wait to meet her.” She gushed, excited to share her new friend with her oldest friend.
“Oh great well that means Ron will-”
“So... who’s y/n?” Their youngest brother asked from beside the twins, wide eyed with innocent curiosity, catching everyone in the room’s attention.
Mrs Weasley whipped her head around.
“A girl? Have one of you got a girlfriend, why didn’t you tell me?” She started up on her assumptions, knowing that her sons were awful at telling her about their lives.
“Thanks a lot, idiot.” The twins groaned at Ron, who seemed just as confused as ever.
“Well, which one of you?” Molly continued, taking her seat at the other end of the table to Mr Weasley, who beamed silently. Wanting to hear the gossip as much as his wife did.
“Y/n isn’t a girlfriend mum, she’s staying with us for a while.” George took charge, keeping a straight face as he explained the facts to the rest of the family.
“What do you mean staying with you, where did you find her.”
“She’s not a stray dog mum!” Ginny laughed, taking a spoonful of roast potatoes and lumping them onto her plate.
“She used to work with Neville and his wife Hannah, you remember her right?” Fred joined in.
“Oh yes, lovely lady, beautiful hair!”
“Well, they couldn’t afford to keep her on. And she was living there until she could find somewhere more permanent to live,”
“What about her parents, surely they wouldn’t leave her homeless?” Molly asked, pouring herself a much-deserved glass of wine before passing the bottle around.
“Well, a-about that.” George started, but he seemed unsure on how to explain it to his family without giving out the girl’s private information.
“All we know is that she ran away from home because she needed to.”
“And you trust that!” Ron scoffed, earning a kick from Ginny and a glare from Hermione.
“She’s lovely, and yes she can be trusted- how else would she have gotten a job with neville if not?” Their sister came to her defense, shutting the youngest brother up with one breath.
“Thanks Gin,” George whispered.
“Well, I think that’s a lovely thing you’ve done boys.” Molly chirped up, “I’m proud of you both for being so charitable.”
“Yes, very good.” Mr Weasley mumbled, urged on by his wife’s awaiting gaze. “Just be careful, she is a stranger after all.”
“I think it’s y/n who should be careful around these two.” Ron chuckled, earning a harsh kick from his fiance under the table.
-
The family chatted all the way through dinner, telling stories of their work and their friends until all the food was gone and Harry helped Molly to clear up while the rest settled in the living room, next to a roaring fire.
“Your mother has been begging him to visit for weeks now, but he’s been tied up at the bank with yet another break in.” Arthur explained to his kids, telling them about Bill’s recent absence.
“Have they not updated their wards? Gringotts is the hardest to get into, it doesn’t make sense?” Hermione frowned, shaking her head.
“Luckily nothing was stolen, I think whoever did it got scared off before they made it to the vaults.”
“That’s odd, if anything vaults are easier to break into.” Ron was just as confused as his counterpart.
“Well yes, you lot would know wouldn’t you.” fred teased, squeezing Harry’s shoulder who sat by the fire in front of him.
“We could do a better job.” The boy with glasses chuckled.
“Just be careful, if these thieves are in the alley then there’s a chance they could target the shops next.” Mr Weasley warned them, knowing their business was known to be the one doing the best in diagon alley.
The twins nodded in response, sharing a small worry for the girl they had left behind in the loft. Fred thought about bringing it up to his brother, but decided against it the second everyone’s conversation topic changed.
“We won’t stay too long then.” George whispered to him, assuring him that he too was concerned about leaving y/n alone with the risk of someone breaking in. But even as the family laughed over stories, old and new, Fred couldn’t help but grow restless.
The longer they were there, comfortable and happy, the longer the girl was alone and vulnerable. He knew if he mentioned it again that George would grow suspicious of his feelings for the girl, whom he blatantly presumed could defend herself by the way he accepted yet another drink from his father.
If he hadn’t been such a wimp about it, he could have just put George in his place and been open about the way he liked the girl. But now he had to keep quiet, for his own sanity.
-
Another hour or so later the twins finally said their goodbyes, promising their mother that y/n would come along with them next week so everyone could meet her, and left the burrow to return to the loft where y/n had already fallen asleep on the sofa.
George chuckled, creeping over to her while Fred was distracted by the sight of her face yet again and picked her up into his arms.
“I’ll take her downstairs, Freddie, can you turn all the lights off up here?” He asked, letting the girl fall into his chest.
Fred hated how perfect they looked together, how George hadn’t even hesitated to hold her himself, how she slotted into his arms so simply. He hated that all of this bothered him, that he was pitting himself against his double, who hadn’t even shown any signs of wanting her.
Still he watched them leave, disappear down the steps and into the darkness. He considered waiting, with the hope that he could listen in on any conversation but realised that might be a bit much and sloped away to his bedroom, mumbling a quick “nox” as he went.
-
The more days that passed, the easier y/n fitted into the twins’ day to day life. She was a saint in the shop, and loyal customers got to know her and like just as quickly as the two men had done so.
Her little room was a godsend on her back, but in the evenings she stayed up in the loft with them, very rarely wanting time alone unless she was particularly exhausted. Which only made things harder for Fred, who seemed to grow more and more jealous around the girl.
He hadn’t realised how bad it had gotten, however, until Bill graced them all with his presence one afternoon while they were shutting up the shop. He had, of course, heard news of their guest from Ron and decided to find out all he could for himself while he wasn’t busy.
“She’s not here right now, we just sent her to the shop for dinner,” Fred told him, cashing up the till with a concentrated look. His older brother leant on the counter, still dressed in his fancy bank suit, having come straight from work.
“Not sure what she’s cooking, no doubt it’ll be good though,” George chuckled, stacking more things onto the shelves nearby.
“Apparently Ginny likes her, is that true?” He asked them, to which they both nodded. “Wow, she must be great then- never met anyone else with better character jugement, well except myself of course.”
Fred rolled his eyes at Bill, always one to be humble.
“She’s pretty great.” He assured, ignoring George’s weird look.
“Shame I missed her, guess I’ll have to find out for myself at dinner on friday.”
“You’re coming to the burrow?” George laughed, amazed that he finally had time.
“Yeah well, we haven’t had much progress with these break ins so there’s no point trying to force it. The aurors have taken over as it is, we’ve done all we can.”
“Which reminds me, I need to update our wards Georgie.”
“Again, I only did it a couple days ago!”
“No point taking chances, what dad said was right- they could easily target other businesses next.” Fred huffed, his brother accepting defeat.
Their attention was caught by the sound of the front door tinkling open, a jingle of keys telling them that y/n was finally back.
“Here she is!” Bill announced, greeting her with a charming smile and confident tone. The girl seemed surprised, her smile awkward and a little confused.
“This is our big brother, Bill.” Fred explained, offering to take the heavy bags from her. She smiled, making sure to lock eyes with him as he stepped back again.
“Hello Bill, it’s lovely to meet you.” Now she was more relaxed, her shoulders dropping as he spoke to her and asked her plenty of questions about herself, all the while leaning suavely against the counter.
Fred wanted to go over and drag her away, tell her that bill was way too old for her. But all he could do was stand and watch as she giggled away at every other comment he made, her eyes scanning him all the time that he was there.
“I better take this all upstairs-” She reached for the bags that were in his hand, but he stepped up onto the stairs.
“N-no it’s alright, I’ll go.” At least he wouldn’t have to hide his anger around them much longer.
Only a couple minutes later she joined him in the loft, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkly as she smiled at him in the kitchen.
“You okay?” Fred asked her.
“Yeah, George is saying goodbye to your brother. I said I’d come help.” She grinned, setting up a chopping board right beside him.
“You didn’t have to.” He nudged her shoulder playfully, making her giggle, the same way Bill had done.
“I wanted to, silly, plus I feel like I barely saw you all day- it was weird.”
Maybe liking her wasn’t off the cards after all, she wanted to be with him, she felt weird when she didn’t see him. Hell, she even left big-shot Bill downstairs just to be in the same room as him. George could have been wrong, she could want him back after all.
“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?” She asked the taller man beside her, looking up with those hopeful eyes.
“Yeah sure,” “I’ll be back in ten to help, okay?” “Don’t fall!” He called out as she rushed off, hearing a faint giggle as the bathroom door shut. Fred smiled to himself, liking how much more comfortable they were getting around one another.
“Need help?” George asked, poking his head round the kitchen door.
“Can do, y/n’s just showering.” He directed his twin to the vegetables that needed peeling.
“By the way, Bill was asking about her-” His stomach tensed. “He wants to ask her out, I told him it’s fine… you know since you said you were just drunk when you told me those things.”
Fred’s heart stopped. Of course, just as things showed the smallest sign of getting better his hope was crushed by the weight of one sentence. He nodded, trying to pay as little attention to what nonsense George spewed out as they cooked, but he couldn’t help hearing how Bill had been taken in by the girl’s beauty.
The man wanted to yell out, he wanted to snap and explain that he’d liked her first. It all seemed so childish, he’d been jealous of one brother and now another one had swooped right in and charmed her. There was no way she would deny him, either, he’d seen her blush.
All through dinner, George asked the girl what she thought of their older brother, most likely at Bill’s request. But it made Fred feel sick, to see her so excited to talk about him, all that he could do was stay silent and eat his food. Not that either of the others noticed, too enthralled in their riveting conversation.
George was as bad as his mother for gossiping, together with y/n’s childlike excitement, he decided he couldn’t take much more and quietly dismissed himself so he could run off to his room and let out the breath he’d been holding onto all evening.
This was going to be harder to get over.
-
That Friday night, the three of them apparated to the burrow, wanting to show the girl a different way to travel as she had never been taught how to do it when she lived at home. The moon was bright out that night, and shone done over the field as they landed, both men having to keep her stable as she giggled.
“That was fun!” She squealed, jumping up and down and looking around, amazed that she had never experienced such a exhilarating thing before.
“I gotta be honest, I was expecting you to vomit.”
“We both were,”
“It’s practically tradition at this point.”
“Maybe on the way back, after dinner.” The girl teased, stomping her boots over the long grass that led towards the house.
She had found her nicest pair of big blue jeans and used some of the little money she had on her to buy a new top when Ginny had taken her out with Hermione. It was white, with thin lace sleeves and a corset waist, which had reminded her of the dresses her mother used to wear whenever her father took her out for a special occasion. Before they grew apart, of course.
Fred had gulped when he’d seen her wearing it, presuming that she’d been swayed by Hermione’s elegant style over Ginny’s punk-princess dresses. And while he loved seeing her wearing clothes that made her look like an angel, as she did that evening, everything the girl wore seemed to make him want her more and more.
“Y/n!” His little sister cried out from the front door, having spotted them from the front window, making the girl run even faster to greet her. They flew into each other’s arms like best friends, they most likely were that close by now, given both of the girl’s addictive personalities.
All of them were quickly ushered inside, where Ron and Harry awkwardly stared at her while she talked with their fiances. George nudged their shoulders.
“You guys look like creeps, have you really forgotten how to talk to girls other than those two.” He scoffed.
“Oh, we’re just worried.” Harry explained, looking as white as a sheet.
“About y/n?” Fred sneered, “She’s a softie, come on.”
“Ginny and ‘Mione are great, but when they’re together they can be-” “They’re brutal.” Ron finished his friend's statement bluntly. “And your little project will turn into one of them if you’re not careful.”
“She’s not a project Ron-” “Yeah, shut up Ron.”
Mrs Weasley wiped her hands of cooking and rushed over to the new face in her house, immediately dragging the girl into a hug.
“It is so lovely to meet you y/n!” She exclaimed, her children’s kindness so evidently learnt from her. “Ginny has told me so much about you,” The girl blushed before her, unknowing of a parent so welcoming.
Her mother used to be like this, if she remembered far enough, she would invite all their friends over and treat other’s children as their own. Always with a bright, beaming smile, one that had been lost as the years went one, but one that she no doubt inherited herself.
“Why don’t you go sit with the boys, dinner won’t be long.” She smiled, keeping Ginny and Ron behind to help her finish up. She followed the twins, who seemed too tall for their own home as they ducked beneath archways and low hanging lights.
A fire was lit in the next room, surrounded by sofas and armchairs that looked even comfier than her own bed. Mr Weasley sat, facing the doorway, having a conversation with someone who had their back to the trio as they entered.
“Hi dad, evening Bill.” George smiled, slumping down on a sofa comfortably.
Bill turned round, expectantly, his smirk rising when he saw the girl stood before him, looking much more made up that she was the other day after a long shift.
“There she is,” He said, smoothly, relishing in the way she blushed nervously in his presence.
She politely greeted Mr Weasley, before sitting down in between the twins who were her pillars of safety as they talked over her head. Even as Bill conversed with his father about matters that she struggled to catch up on, his gaze burned upon her body like a flame.
Fred noticed it, the way his brother watched over her like a hawk and the way she lapped it up. It was sickening to see her fall under his spell so easily, he didn’t even need to try. Bill always got what he wanted, everyone knew that.
When Mrs Weasley called them all in for dinner, Fred certainly didn’t miss the way his older brother whispered into her ear and all but dragged her over to the table so he could ensure they would be next to one another. He just let it happen, who was he to stop them, a hopeless romantic… that’s all.
“So y/n, where did you go to school?” Arthur asked, thinking nothing of the question. But her face fell a little, not that anyone but Fred saw it happen from across the table.
“Uh- I was actually homeschooled, but there’s still a lot I don’t know.”
“Well I hope the boys have been teaching you lots, it’s good to know as much as you can.” Mrs Weasley beamed, rubbing the twin’s heads as she passed by with glasses for everyone.
“They’ve been extremely helpful, in more ways than I can thank them for.” She smiled sweetly, catching Fred’s eye as everyone started up their own conversations.
That was the last time she looked over at him that night, as Bill started telling her all sorts of things that made her giggle and smirk and blush and fidget. It was obvious to anyone that watched the two of them that Bill had made up his mind about her.
It was the scar tour which finally made Fred roll his eyes, no one seeing but his twin.
“You alright?” George said, with a confused chuckle.
“Oh yeah, fine.”
“Bill’s a right show off isn’t he, wonder where he’s gonna take her on their d-a-t-e.”
“We’re not dogs you know, we can spell.” Ginny hissed from the other side of him, leaning over behind him so she could talk to Fred directly.
“Is it true?” She asked him, hushed.
“Is what?” He whispered back, praying that George hadn’t spoken of his drunken confession.
“Bill’s gonna ask her out?”
“Well- I guess so, he said he would.” He sat up straight again, wanting nothing more to do with that conversation if he could help it. He was already forced to watch the two of them as if he was front row at a particularly excruciating play.
-
The whole night seemed to drag on for hours and hours, as it seemed like Ginny and Bill were fighting over the girl’s attention. Fred finally gave up on trying to bear the whole situation and slipped out the back door when no one was watching, hoping to have a few minutes alone in the night’s cool air.
But not even thirsty seconds of silence later, the door opened behind him, and someone came to join him.
“You alright Fred?” Hermione’s voice sounded over to him, as he sat slumped against the stone wall. He nodded, not minding her company over any of the other’s. She at least knew how to be quiet when it was necessary.
The brunette took a seat beside him on the grass, crossing her legs and taking in a fresh breath of air. He was always happy that Hermione was the one friend of Ginny’s to actually join the family, he’d never been a fan of the other’s as most of the time they would bother him and George.
“You like her, don’t you?” Hermione asked, dragging him from his vacant thoughts.
“What?”
“Y/n. You like her, and you haven’t said anything.”
“Hermione, I don’t-” ‘I’m not going to tell anyone, I hate gossip.” She scoffed, and he knew it was true.
“It’s a tricky one, okay.” The man finally said, after she let him think over his answer for a few moments.
“I bet, and now Bill’s got his sight on her.”
“Yeah well, I’m not him-” He sighed. “Doesn’t mean you can’t like her.”
“It’s too late, she’s gonna say yes to their date and then they’ll be together and I’ll have to watch them be happy and shit, all the while I’m gonna be miserable.” “She might say no,” “Bullshit will she say no, have you seen the way she acts around him?” “Not really.” Hermione admitted.
“Well, it’s obvious she likes him- that’s all.”
They fell into silence again, the stars in the sky not even settling Fred’s growing rage over how stupid he’d been to hide how he truly felt.
“Either way, you should tell her.” Hermione said, standing up and brushing off her legs before giving him a sympathetic smile and heading back inside.
-
The twins headed back outside, getting ready to leave, when y/n called over to them with a giggle. Bill’s hands were wrapped around her waist, begging her to stay as she cutely tried to get away.
“I’ll just be a moment you guys!” George nodding, waving bye to his brother and heading back into the field to give them a bit of privacy. Fred followed, with no other choice. He could still see their figures through the tall grass, holding one another like they were already lovers. When Bill’s head dipped down he just turned away, seeing George watching him with squinted eyes.
“What are you doing freddie?” He asked him.
“Nothing, jus- nothing.” He grumbled, kicking up the ground beneath his feet as they waited patiently.
When the girl finally bounded over, full of giddy excitement, he wanted to be far away from her. He swore he could feel Bill’s presence all over her, just by the way she took his hand to apparate back to the loft.
The whole time that she spoke his head was in a daze, as if he felt there was no use in listening to anyone anymore. No matter how much advice he was given, or however nice he was to her. If she didn’t want him, then there was nothing he could do.
“Goodnight freddie!” She called, when he silently left the other two in the dark shop and climbed up to the loft. He didn’t say anything back, in truth he didn’t take in that she had spoken to him and then by the time he had done so, he didn’t trust his voice to not crack under pressure.
“Is he angry?” The girl turned to George, who was just as confused about his twin’s odd behaviour.
“No, sweet, he’s probably just tired.” He whispered, giving her a reassuring hug. “So, when’s Bill taking you out?”
“Tuesday night.” “Oh. How romantic.” The man scoffed, which earned him a light slap on the arm.
“Stop it you, he said he didn’t want to wait until next weekend- I think it’s sweet.”
“You would missy- you’re in love!” He teased.
“I wouldn’t call it love… yet.” She grinned.
“Go on you, get to bed.” He chuckled, giving her yet another hug and letting her skip off to her room which was covered in fairy lights.
George wasn’t even going to bother talking to Fred that night. Whatever was up with him, he could take a wild guess on and probably hit the jackpot. But that meant he was upset, beyond compare, and most likely needed some time alone. So George gave him that time and just went up to bed himself. Hoping that things would look up in the days to come.
Little did he know that, when it came to love, Fred held grudges.
#weasley#weasley twins#fred weasley#george weasley#weasley family#bill weasley#ron weasley#the weasleys#the weasley twins#the wealseys#the weasly twins#they were roommates#the weaslys#the weasley family#fred and goerge weasley#fred x y/n#fred x reader#fred smut#fred#fred weasley smut#fred weasley fanfiction#george and fred weasley#fred weasly x reader#george wealsey x reader#george weasley x reader#george weasley smut#hermione granger#fred and george#george weasley x y/n#george wealsey imagine
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Stages [1/6]
Description: In which a girl goes through six stages to realize and accept the fact that her marriage is going downhill.
Stage One: Denial
- Stages 2
- Stages 3
Description: The clues are pretty obvious but she’s too blinded by her love for him to realize. But even when it’s right in front of her, she chooses to ignore it and remain clueless
Warnings: None, just some cheating ass mofo.
Word Count: 1.5k+
Your eyes examined the faded red marks on the shirt for what seemed the thousandth time in the day. You ran your thumb over the smudge lipstick stain that clearly wasn’t yours. You knew cherry red wasn’t your color. Yet this wasn’t the first of many. Every stain has something in common; they were always scattered around the collar area of his button ups. But you chose to ignore it. Just like you did with the others, trying to find another explanation as to why there were red lipstick stains on your husbands work shirts. You quickly tossed the shirt into the washing machine, the detergent washing away his lies from both the shirt and his lies.
You left the laundry room and walked over the kitchen and waited for Grayson to get home, and maybe give you and explanation. Meanwhile you played your playlist on shuffle and made yourself a grilled cheese since you were too mentally exhausted to cook anything out of the box.
You heard grayson home, almost 2 hours late, but you weren’t in the mood to argue so you just kept your eyes on the tv until you heard him open the door and walk in.
“Hi baby,” he said as he walked over to you and placed a quick kiss on your cheek and rushed up the stairs and into your room and came out wearing a black pair of jeans and a white and black striped shirt.
“Where are you going?” You asked, taking your eyes off the screen and pausing the show, managing to catch his small eye roll.
“Out with the boys, why?” he asked, his voice lace with a bit of attitude.
“I thought we were supposed to watch a movie tonight, like we do every Friday?” You said, sort of asking.
“I know, I’m sorry Yeimy, but I haven’t seen the boys in a while,” he said trying to sound as honest as possible. Your mind reading right through his lies yet your heart remained blind.
“I thought you saw them yesterday,” you said, making him turn to face you.
“Why are you asking so many questions? Do you not trust me?” he asked, acting as if you incriminated him for exploding the twin towers, making you feel guilty.
“No, I’m not questioning you Grayson,” you sighed mentally rolling your eyes. “I was just worried,” you replied quietly and turned back around and continued watching your episode of Law and Order for the thousandth time.
“Yei, there’s nothing to be worried about, I promise.” he said, grabbing his keys and wallet, and slammed the door.
You knew he wasn’t out with his friends, you knew all of his friends' significant others and they told you that they were home. Every single one of them, meaning Grayson lied about his whereabouts, but that wasn’t new. Especially Ethan’s wife Karina. She was your best friend, and one of your first friends since you moved to LA, and she told you that Ethan said they had nothing planned and that the guys actually haven’t seen eachother in a while.
So you knew that he lied again, and that whoever he was out with wasn’t Ethan or any of his friends that you knew of.
He came home around two thirty in the morning to find you knocked out on the couch. You had fallen asleep waiting for him while he was out doing who knows what.
He carried you up to you room and laid you down on the king sized mattress and took a shower and laid back down next to you, only this time he didn’t wrap his arms around you and pulled you closer, he just turned his back on you and fell asleep.
The next morning you woke up to find yourself having the bed yourself, something that has been occurring for the past two months.
“Hey, by any chance did you wash my shirts?” Grayson asked you with a panicked look on his face.
“Yeah I just threw them on the washer, why?” you responded as you tamed your hair down with a brush.
“Nothing, why did you do that?” he asked, making you roll your eyes.
“Because I’m your wife. Was there something valuable that gets ruined with water or something?” you asked, acting confused. Acting as if you didn’t see the lip marks around the shirt’s collar, the ones that were now faded because they wouldn’t come off with the detergent. “Why are you surprised, I do our laundry all the time, I hanged it up in your closet, along with all the other shirts,” you added.
“No, nothing. I just couldn’t find it.” he shrugged and you nodded your head letting out a ‘mhm’
You got up from your seat and took a shower, getting dressed in a skin tight black dress with spaghetti straps. (not me, wrong bishh)
“Where are you going?” He asked you from the couch as you came down the stairs all dolled up. His question making you let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Remember we’re going out today? Do you remember today’s date Grayson Bailey?” you asked with a stern voice, hiding away your pain.
“It’s September 16th, I think? Why are we going out today?” he asked, making your heart shatter and burn.
“I don’t know the fact that we got married three years ago,” you said as tears began to brim your eyes, threatening to stream down your face.
“I’m so sorry Yeimy, I forgot.” He said, making you scoff.
“How do you forget your own wedding date Grayson?” you asked, your voice cracking mid sentence as hot tears mixed with mascara streamed down your perfectly blended foundation.
“I don’t know baby. I’m sorry I just got caught up with work. But I’ll make it up to you. Let me tell Ethan I’m not showing up,” he said and you sent him a fake smile and told him you were going to go fix your makeup.
Another lie. Ethan knew it was your anniversary. He even sent you a text early in the morning telling you to have fun with Grayson because he was covering for him today, so whoever he called was not Ethan.
You quickly fixed your face, not putting as much effort as. You finished off your look by putting on a bright red lipstick. The only red that you managed to pull off, and met your way downstairs to where Grayson was.
“Angel you look beautiful,” he said, making you blushed, as he walked over to you. His hands wrapping around your waist but still something felt off, he did it cautiously making sure not to touch your ass, something that he used to love touching before you even got married.
“Is that a new lipstick?” he asked referring to your bright red lips.
“Mhm,” you hummed nodding your head.
“You should wear it more often,” he replied before pulling away from you, placing a kiss on your forehead.
Deciding to test something out, you pulled him back to you, placing your lips on his before he quickly pulled back.
Your heart being shattered once again, because of him.
“I don’t want to mess it up, angel,” he said once he noticed the hurt displayed on your face.
“Yeah, ok,” you replied and grabbed your purse from the table and followed him out.
“I haven’t been to the office in a while, maybe I can pass by tomorrow and bring you, and E lunch,” you said while he drove you guys to whatever place he decided to go.
“Tomorrow we have a lunch meeting with another company but maybe next wednesday? He asked and you nodded your head and went on your phone for the rest of the drive.
He ended up taking you to fancy restaurants with dishes that your spanish accent restricted you from saying. The type of restaurants you hated going to; One because they have the audacity to charge you hundreds of dollars for a sample sized dinner, and Two, you just hated over the top expensive restaurants.
Mid lunch, Grayson excused himself to go to the bathroom leaving his phone behind. Now, you’re not the type to check phones but when a text came through, your curiosity got the best of you.
‘Work’ you read the contact name from your side of the table. Thank god you learned to read backwards and upside down otherwise you would’ve had to touch his phone.
‘Where did you take her? Can’t wait for you to come later heart emoji’ you whispered to yourself while an imaginary stone got stuck on the back of your throat.
You kept denying it. Maybe it was the wrong number. But why would it be called work. You chose to think it was just a mistake, but your mood had completely shifted and you did not want to be at that restaurant anymore.
He couldn’t possibly be cheating on you could he? Grayson wasn’t that type of man, and you knew he was different. But maybe, just maybe he was and it won't be long until you discover the truth. But until then, you decided to just discard those thoughts and enjoy your anniversary.
Stages 2
Stages 3
Tags: @angelgrayson @rhyrhy462 @333dolans @vinylhazza @foxglovedolan @dolanissues @mercurygrant @persistence-ofmemories @dolansficsandpics @blindedbythelightt @kinkygrays
#grayson bailey#graysonbailey#grayson#grayson x reader#grayson blurb#ethan dolan#Ethangrant#ethan dolan x reader#ethan dolan blurb#dolan twins#grayson dolan#dolan
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Absolution
Summary:
noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment
The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.
XXVIII
January 14, 2278.
I woke up feeling confused.
Percy?
My wife?
Impossible. A ghoul marrying a smoothskin? Fucking insane.
I don’t think I’m even made for something as… normal as marriage. All my skills are geared towards killing and destroying. How can I even build a life with her?
Some people marry out of love, don’t they? My parents did, and they were happy together. When I was little, during their wedding anniversary, they’d leave me with someone else to look after me. Before she went away to study, Aunt Katya would do that for them. After she’s gone, it was whoever babysitter they can find.
They would always come home the next day with smiles on their faces.
When we started to become poorer, they’d spend the evening in the house, a lone candle illuminating the kitchen, and they’d dance to the radio in silence. My mother would look at my father with uncertain eyes, and he'd kiss the worries away.
“Annika, moya solnyshko, we’re going to be fine.”
Solnyshko. If I recall correctly, it’s a term of endearment in my parents’ language. I think it meant ‘little sun’.
I sighed and turned to Percy, still asleep, resting peacefully as the sunlight streamed from the windows and illuminated her face.
Is that something I want to do with Percy?
Hold her in my arms through thick and thin? Call her silly little things out of affection?
Is it love that drives me to dream of being her husband? Or is she just too involved in my life now for me to think of someone else?
Some people married out of convenience, after all. Like Aunt Katya.
I remember bringing the rings on her wedding day. She was already heavy with child, dressed in white. I couldn’t remember if it was in the year 2069 or 2070, but obviously, it was before I was taken away for indoctrination.
“Tetushka,” I remember addressing her during the reception. “Who is he?”
“Artyom, this is Nathaniel. He’s the man I married, and he’s going to be your uncle. Don’t be shy, say hi.”
The man steps closer, and kneels. He had some stubble on his jaw, square and shapely, and his hair is cut neatly, like the soldiers I see on posters.
“So this is the nephew you were talking about, Kitty. Hey there sport,” he greets extending his hand. I remember reluctantly giving him a handshake.
“I know this is all so sudden, but he’s part of the family now,” Aunt Katya explains, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I think it’s time for the toast, dear. We wouldn’t want to miss it.” Nathan interrupts, whisking my aunt away and giving me a nod and a wink.
That night, as my father drove us home, he spoke to me.
“Artyom, could you make me a promise?”
“What kind of promise papa?”
“Promise me, when you grow up and if you decide to marry someone, make sure that you marry out of love, like I did with your mother. Don’t be like your aunt Katya.”
“I promise,” I tell him. “But what’s wrong with aunt Katya?”
“Ilya, I think we should save this conversation for another day. Our Artyom might be too young,” my mother tells father.
“Nonsense. It’s never too early to let him know. Artyom, your tetushka married that man because she thought she couldn’t take care of a baby on her own. I’m not sure if she loves Nathan, and that’s what scares me. Your auntie is strong. But I’m not sure how she will handle a marriage with uncertain feelings. It could destroy her.”
I blinked a few times. It was too heavy for me to understand back then.
“I think what your father is trying to say, Artyom,” my mother adds, “Is when people marry and start a family, they usually live together under one roof, like your papa and I. When you marry someone and live under one roof with someone you do not love, life can become difficult.”
“I think I understand, mama.”
I do understand now.
My reminiscing got interrupted when Percy cracked one eye open, and reached for me.
“Hey. Good morning, big guy. You slept well?”
I nodded.
“Let’s get some breakfast.”
After waking Butch up, the three of us packed our sleeping bags and went outside to start a fire. The dawn is just breaking, the horizon hazy. I can’t remember being this up early. Our sleep schedule was borderline nocturnal.
As the Cram sizzled on the clean sheet of metal we used to cook on while travelling, Percy was heating some clean water over the fire as well. She used it to rehydrate the Instamash, and the rest went into a cup. My partner then takes out a small sachet, the label washed out, but I can still see what it was.
“Found this in a coat pocket from Moira’s gifts the other day,” she giggles. “Hot chocolate!”
My eyes widened. Damn, I haven’t seen one of those after the war. Is it even safe to consume?
“Man, I miss the food in the vault. Lemme have some,” DeLoria exclaims, excited.
Percy pours it in the cup and stirs it with a spoon. She takes a sip, passes it to Butch, who wrinkles his nose, then to me. Well, if we can still eat Cram after 200 years of it sitting on some shelf, I think I’ll be fine with this ancient hot chocolate.
It’s hot. Comforting. The flavor is a little rancid, but what else is new with these preserved Pre-War foods? It’s still somewhat sweet. The nostalgia I felt for the life I left behind grew. I look into the cup, the dark liquid swirling, reminding me of Percy’s eyes. Then, I pass it back to her.
“You were smiling in your sleep,” Percy quips, looking at me with eyes still heavy with sleep. “Dreamed of something nice?”
Despite the cold, I feel the warmth spreading through me. Of fucking course I just can’t tell her that I dreamed that I wasn’t a monster, and she is my wife, and we had a son who looked like her while we’re frolicking at a beach in California. I have to think of something else.
“I dreamed DeLoria fell down the stairs.”
Percy almost spat out her drink laughing. Butch gives me a dirty look. “Yeah, real funny, you bastard,” he groans.
I couldn’t help but laugh at my own lie, too.
Butch put the fire out with snow, and we’re off again, heading west. The sun’s rising in the east, warming our backs as we pressed on. By the time we got to Lamplight, the sun’s risen, but was blocked out by clouds.
We approached the cavern entrance, and followed the trail inside. There, MacCready is still keeping watch.
“Hey, we got your friends back. Can we come in now?” Percy shouts, keeping a safe distance.
“I guess you’re okay after all, for a mungo. But you better not piss me off!”
As the three of us approached the gate, the kid pointed his rifle at DeLoria.
“Hey wait a second, you weren’t with them when they first came here,” he barks, suspicious.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s harmless. He’s gonna watch out stuff for us while we go in Vault 87,” Percy explains, pulling Butch’s arm hurriedly.
“Who the fuck are you?” the mayor asks Butch, and of course the moron puffed his chest out.
“I’m Butch! I lead a gang called the Tunnel Snakes and I helped them get your friends outta Paradise Falls too!”
“What kind of dumbshit name is Tunnel Snakes?”
Okay, I can’t fucking help it. I am laughing. This kid is just fine.
As DeLoria squabbles with MacCready, Percy sits down in a corner to catch her breath and rest, and I join her. Soon, some of the kids started gathering around us, and among them were the children we rescued from Paradise.
“It’s the ghost and the zombie that saved us!” one of them exclaimed, running towards us.
“Zombie isn’t a nice word to call him, kid. He’s called a ghoul,” Percy tells her, voice a little softer than her usual speaking tone.
“A pretty ghost and a scary ghoul saved you? Wow!”
Soon, the voices of the children grew louder as they chattered about us, the odd group of mungos allowed in the cave.
I felt uncomfortable as the children poked around and asked us so many questions. Some of them are too afraid to come closer to me, while some openly try to climb on my back and gingerly touch some of my scars. I guess the dream I had about having one will remain a dream. These children are exhausting to be around.
Yet Percy takes it all in stride, answering every question they ask her, showing off her stuff, and regaling them with tales from our travels. She’d gently pet the hair of one of the little girls who huddled next to her, and her patience didn’t waver as one of the boys accidentally spilled their Nuka Cola on her jacket.
She reminds me of my own mother. I’m sure she’d be a great mother if she ever decides to be one.
And when that happens, I’m not going to be the one by her side.
“Percy! Tell us another story,” one of the children, who was called Knock Knock, asks my partner, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I think I’ve already told you all of my stories.”
“Well, you can always make one up,” another little girl, the one called Bumble, suggests.
“Hmm…”
Eyes flicking towards me, Percy offers the children a soft smile.
“Long ago, there was a young maiden, living in a fortress with steel walls. The most important rule was one was allowed to go in and out of the fortress.” Percy starts, leaning her head towards me.
“A maiden? Why not a princess? Princesses lived in fortresses, right? Or was it a castle?”
“Shut up, Zip! Don’t interrupt her.”
Chuckling, Percy clears her throat and continues. “She kept to herself, and kept herself busy with plants and books. The maiden was content with living in the fortress, but she always wondered what the world beyond them looked like. One night, while the maiden was exploring the lower levels of the fortress, a horrible beast took her away, and captured her. He put her in an invisible cage, which keeps her under his control.”
I think I know who this maiden is.
“Oh no, is she okay? Who saved her?”
“We’ll get to that soon. The maiden was kept in a cage for so long, that she thought that she'd never get out. Then, one night, word got around that someone left the fortress. In her desire to see the world, she grips the bars of the invisible cage, and bends it, finally escaping.”
The children were listening in awe. “What happens to the girl? Does she escape the fortress?”
“Yes, and she had to face the monster that captured her in doing so. In a show of courage, she wields a sword, and takes his head off in one slice.”
“Coooool,” one of the kids exclaimed.
“Then, she starts looking for her father. But she couldn’t do it alone. There were many dangers in the world outside the fortress. So, she looks for someone who can watch her back.”
“Is it a knight? Or a prince?”
“Hmm. No, her companion is neither of those. He’s something else.”
“What is he?”
“A ferryman.”
“What’s a ferryman, Percy?”
“Have you kids ever heard of a boat? A ferryman is in charge of running that boat.”
“Oh, so they rode through a boat?”
“Yeah. They did. This ferryman, all he knew before he met the maiden was to take the souls of people and deliver them to Death. Kind of like the Grim Reaper. Everyone’s gotta die some time, and it was his job to ensure that they make it to the other side.”
“Yikes! Why would she ask someone like that to watch her back?”
Percy pauses, unsure what to answer. Her eyes flick to her lap, then, she smiles at one of the kids.
“Because, the maiden knows better than to judge a book by its cover. Turns out, the ferryman was one of the most reliable, bravest, and kindest people outside the fortress, but he’s stuck to his job. So, they burn the boat, and the maiden, instead of facing Death, runs away with the ferryman. The end.”
“Wow, that was boring,” one of the boys quipped, which earned him an elbow from one of the girls.
“Are you kidding? That was amazing!”
“Aw, that can’t be the end! What happens to them after?”
“Do they fall in love?”
A short chortle escaped Percy. “That’s a story for another day. My friend and I need to get going.”
Bumble looks up to Percy with big, begging eyes. “Promise us you’ll tell the rest when you come back, please?”
A chorus of “Please, Percy” fills the cave. I couldn’t help but snort at the overwhelmed look on Percy’s face. Then, she gave them a quick nod, to which they responded with cheers.
“Alright big guy, time for us to go into the Vault. Wait, where’s Butch?”
On the opposite side of the cave, surrounded by mostly boys, including MacCready himself, Butch was shouting and cheering.
“Tunnel Snakes rule!”
“Tunnel Snakes rule!” the boys echoed.
We laughed at the scene. “Hey, looks like Butch have new gang members in no time.”
Striding towards DeLoria, Percy dumps the gear we didn’t need to bring near his feet. She takes off her leather jacket and scarf, and her sneaking suit’s helmet protracted over her face. It was a curious sight for the children, looking at her with bewildered eyes.
“Look after the stuff, Butch. If we don’t come back in eight hours, get help from the Brotherhood.”
“Got it. What but what if something else comes through the door?”
“If it’s not with us, shoot it. Help the kids defend this place.”
Butch gulps. “I… uh…”
“There are spare guns and grenades in one of the packs. You helped us with Paradise, Butch. You can handle this,” Percy encourages him, rubbing the back of his palm gently.
I look away.
“You’re right. See you in a few hours.”
Following a teenage boy who introduced himself as Joseph, who turned out to be the brother of one of the children we got out of the slave pen, we were led to a terminal which accesses a door to the vault. No one bothered to write down the password, so Percy cracked her knuckles and started typing away eagerly.
Eyes still fixated on the glowing green monitor, she had that determined look on her face again.
The door hisses open, and we step in. It was unnaturally cold and silent.
“This is it, Charon. We’re so close.”
#lone wanderer#female lone wanderer#charon#fallout charon#charon fallout#charon fallout 3#fallout 3 charon#charon fo3#fo3 charon#charon x lone wanderer#oc: percy zhou#fanfic: absolution#series: through river acheron#fallout 3#fallout fanfic#fo3#writers on tumblr
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home (sebastian stan x fem!reader)
not my gif
summary: sebastian is interviewed during quarantine and is asked about life at home with his wife and kids
a/n: i was so ready to post my first draft of this and it was 2800 words and i read it again and hated it and deleted so much stuff but wrote even more now its 3600 words WHAT AM I DOINGGG. i read a fic in this sort of style and absolutley loved it. i don’t remember who wrote it but i believe it was a chris evans x reader. if you know what it is please let me know! the italics are the interviewer and regular text is sebastian! thanks for reading in advance! this was mildly edited for grammatical mistakes i will edit it soon i have so much school work i’ve fallen behind on but spent hours writing this oop
wordcount: 2,800
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Sebastian! It is really good to see you. How are you? How is life at home?
-Hey! It’s good to see you, too. I’m doing pretty well, considering. I have
nothing to complain about. I’m here with my wife and kids and we’re enjoying this time with each other.
How is everyone at home handling the madness?
-We’re all doing fairly well. It’s not easy having to change our routines so drastically, especially with 2 toddlers. They were frustrated with us and we were frustrated with them at first, but we adjusted and are trying to take it day by day.
As you know, we’re doing these interviews with a handful of celebrities, talking a little about their lives as parents during these unprecedented times. As a fairly new father, we were interested to see how things have been in the Stan household and a little more about your family life. Thank you for allowing us to ask you these questions. I know you keep your personal life private from the public.
-I don’t mind at all, I love talking about them. I could go on and on about them for days, so ask away.
How did you meet your wife, Y/N?
-I met her through a mutual friend. They had this party that we were both invited to and had introduced us. I believe she had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship not too long before we met, and from the get-go was not interested in talking to me at all.
How long before she gave you a chance?
-After a few drinks I went up to her and told her if she didn’t want to go out with me she didn’t have to, but that I heard so many great things about her and wanted to get to know her better. We exchanged numbers and we talked on the phone almost daily and when she was ready, I took her out on a date. The rest is history.
Where did meeting her fall into your life career-wise? What were you working on when you met her?
-We met in April of 2014, so I believe Cap 2 had just premiered and I was signing on to do The Martian and The Bronze.
Was she a fan of any of your work before you met?
-She had told me on one of those phone calls before we had officially started dating that she was a fan of shows like Pretty Little Liars, New Girl and was a huge fan of Gossip Girl, which I was on for a considerable amount of time, and I guess she didn’t realize it until I said something about it. Very early on I had promised to cook her dinner so she went to my place and we had dinner and then drank too much wine and watched a handful of the episodes I was in. The whole time she couldn’t get over how different I looked.
I’ve seen the pictures of you two at your movie premieres, does she like going to those with you?
-She loves it when we dress up and go somewhere nice, so premieres are right up her alley. She doesn’t participate in the interviews or anything but loves walking the carpet with me and standing in front of the photographers. I always have her close to me and I’ll be saying things to her to make her laugh, which in turn makes me laugh. We get good shots out of those moments.
What was the very first premiere you took her to?
-Our first premiere was probably Civil War. I had taken her to some film festivals and other events before but that was our first big movie premiere together. We actually got married shortly after that premiere.
I remember when you both walked out on the carpet at the Toronto Film Festival in 2017 for the premiere of I, Tonya, you had a pretty big surprise for everyone.
-Indeed we did. Y/N was about 34 weeks pregnant with our twin girls when we went and that's how we announced it! She was nervous about everything that day but she looked phenomenal and stole the carpet. We have a joke that she’s always pregnant when we go because she was 16 or 17 weeks along with our son when we went for the premiere of Endings, Beginnings in 2019.
That is amazing, I didn’t know that!
-No one did except for us, until now!
What would she say has been her favorite movie you’ve been in?
-That’s a hard one. Every time a new movie comes out with me in it, she says it’s her favorite. But I think it would have to be between Endings, Beginnings or Hot Tub Time Machine.
Hot Tub Time Machine is definitely the right answer to that question.
-I agree!
Let’s talk a little bit about your kids. You have 2 daughters and a son?
-Yes! Y/N and I had our twin girls, Genevieve and Elena, in 2017 and our son Luca earlier this year.
You sent me a few pictures of them and they are beautiful. Congratulations to you and Y/N on the new baby. How is everyone adjusting to the new addition?
-Thank you! I think now that we have a somewhat steady routine now, it’s a little easier for all of us. He’s only 3 months old so he’s still waking up every few hours to eat and it was hard on us for the first few weeks since we still have 2 toddlers requiring our attention as long as their eyes are open. But being home all the time and not working at all has given us the time we needed to establish a new routine for us with an extra person in our home. Y/N and I are a great team and work well together.
Do the girls help you guys out at all with Luca?
-They love helping Y/N with Luca. We bought them some of those creepy baby alive dolls that you can feed and change their diapers when we first found out she was pregnant, and they were thrilled. Once we brought them home they couldn’t believe they had a real baby to take care of. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
What kind of things do they do?
-Y/N is breastfeeding Luca, so she’ll sit on the rocking chair in our bedroom or on the couch and is confined to that spot for however long he eats for and she always gets super thirsty while doing it. So I bought her this water bottle that keeps her water cold and is easy to carry around when she’s holding him, but she never remembers to fill it before she sits down to feed him, so they will run to the kitchen and fill it for her. Or if she forgets her phone in the bedroom, they’ll go and grab it for her. They sit next to her and talk to Luca about their cartoons or anything they think of. When I’m on diaper duty, they grab the wipes for me and help me pick out his new outfit. Gen loves picking out his clothes and Elena helps me put them on him.
That is amazing, you and Y/N are raising some pretty wonderful kids.
-They are pretty remarkable, they take after their mom.
Who do your kids take after, looks-wise?
-The girls look more and more like Y/N every day. Her parents sent us pictures from when she was their age and it’s scary how identical the three of them are. Luca is starting to look a little bit like how I did when I was a baby, I’m super pumped about that. They all have blue eyes very similar to mine, and all have my cleft chin.
Is it safe to say Gen and Elena are daddy’s girls and Luca is a mama’s boy?
-Absolutely. There are days when I cannot get Luca to relax and stop fussing but the minute he hears Y/N’s voice, he’s calm and it’s like nothing is wrong. His favorite place in the world is on her chest with his ear against her heart. He loves to stare at her whenever she’s holding him or if I’m holding him and she’s across the room, he’s got his eyes on her. He’s always just absolutely taken by her and refuses to let her out of his sight. He gets it from me. The girls are a little more complicated. When they’re full of energy and want to be rowdy and obnoxious, they run right to me because I love chasing them around the house or having them climb all over me. When they are chilled out and want to play with their dolls, color, or watch cartoons they always go to Y/N. The three of them love laying in our bed watching cartoons with one girl on either side of Y/N. I bet that’s what they’re doing right now. But they’re 100% daddy’s girls, don’t let the cuteness in our bed fool you.
How do you and Y/N handle the inevitable tantrums?
-We have created a really good system with them. If one of them starts to have a meltdown we separate them before the other one starts getting upset, we take whoever is having the meltdown and sit down on the floor and try to get them to talk to us about why they’re upset and allow them to express their feelings to us. We want to teach them how to understand and express what they’re feeling and develop the skills to deal with them in the future. The same goes for if they have tantrums at the same time or if they’re upset with me or Y/N. When they’re ready we put the girls together and have them apologize or say whatever needs to be said.
What do your days look like now that you’re at home with them?
-Luca wakes us up at about 6 am to eat and a diaper change. Mornings are one of the only times Y/N and I have to ourselves so we go back to bed and just enjoy being there with each other. The girls come in around 8 and want to get under the covers and cuddle with us for a bit. Sometimes we’ll get Luca out of his bassinet and it’ll be all 5 of us, but usually we take this time to love on our girls for a bit before we get our day started. After an hour or so they start to get hungry so one of us will stay in bed with the kids while the other handles breakfast. Once we get them out of bed and they’ve had breakfast I play with them before I do some work. I’ll work for a couple of hours and then we’ll eat lunch together and all the kids go down for naps.
-During their nap Y/N and I are working out a little and tidying up around the house. When the girls wake up they’re full of energy and we’re chasing them around and keeping Luca happy until dinner. After dinner they all have bath time with mom and I’m finishing up some work and doing the endless amounts of laundry we have. Bedtime for the girls is 9 pm and after they’re asleep we’re in the living room with Luca until he starts to get tired and he goes back into our room and goes to sleep. When all the kids are in bed we’re in the living room watching a movie or listening to music and talking to each other. We’ll take a shower or a bath together before we get ready for bed and do the same thing all over again!
Wow! You guys have your hands full it seems.
-Kids are no joke. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when Luca is mobile. My life nowadays is chasing after toddlers and laundry. So. Much. Laundry. But I really wouldn’t have it any other way, I love being a dad.
Have you thought about taking everyone to Romania and showing them where you grew up?
-Y/N and I went in 2016 while we were in Europe for our honeymoon and spent a couple of days there. We had talked about going this year or the next and leaving the girls with her parents but then we found out she was pregnant with Luca and we don’t want to leave him when he’s too young. Maybe when they’re older and can appreciate it more we’ll take them, I’d love for them to learn a little bit about their history.
Have you taught them any Romanian?
-I have. My mom encouraged me to introduce them to it when they’re young so they’ll absorb it better. The girls know a couple of words and can understand and speak basic sentences when I’m talking to them in Romanian. They’re picking it up a lot quicker than I thought they would. Luca just giggles when I talk to him in any language.
What about Y/N? Did you ever try teaching her?
-I did, and still am. One of the ways I tried impressing her when we first got together was how I could speak a different language and she loved it and made me promise to teach her the basics. When things got serious and I introduced her to my mom, we spent the whole evening teaching her simple words and phrases. She’s good at picking up what we’re saying and putting everything together to understand what we said. I translated for her the entire time we were in Romania. She knew what she wanted to say but didn’t know how to say it. She’s getting there.
What changes when you are cast for a movie that is going to keep you away from home for an extended amount of time?
-Before I met Y/N and had kids, I was taking jobs wherever and didn’t care if I was going to be away for months at a time. Once we brought up about settling down and buying a house together and starting a family we had a long conversation about where my career was going to go and how we were going to fit a family into that. She never wanted me to give up what I love doing and always said a family could wait until I was ready to step back from acting. I knew most of the things I’d be working on would be based in New York or Atlanta. We have our house in New York and it only made sense to have a house in Atlanta. Now whenever I’m needed in Atlanta for work, we pack up some things and have it shipped to our house down there.
How did you handle having to shoot for Infinity War and Endgame for so long?
-Luckily I didn’t have a huge role in either of them and didn’t have to be on set as much compared to Evans or really anyone else in that movie. Shooting started for Infinity War January of 2017 and we bought our house down there just a few months prior. I had some other things I was working on in Atlanta and we had just decided to stay down there until everything was wrapped. We got there at the beginning of February and found out Y/N was pregnant with the girls about a month after that. We wrapped Infinity War in July and Endgame started in August. We did the premiere for I, Tonya, and went back to Atlanta since I would be needed there again. Y/N went into labor a few weeks later and we had the girls in Atlanta right in the middle of shooting Endgame.
Did you take them to set to introduce them to everyone?
-We did. We had them a couple of weeks before we shot the final scenes in Endgame and when Y/N was a bit stronger, I asked her to bring them to set for morale and dear God everyone lost their minds. Everyone knew we had them but I wasn’t on set at all until that day and a couple of hours into shooting I told everyone to be prepared for what was coming and with everyone standing around looking confused, here comes Y/N with these 2 tiny babies in her arms. I have some pretty epic pictures and me holding them with the metal arm on and Evans holding them with the Cap suit.
Who do you trust most to babysit them out of everyone you worked with on Endgame?
-Evans is definitely on the top of my babysitter's list. He did watch them a few times when he was in Atlanta for a another movie while we were shooting Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Y/N and I needed a date night and he offered to stay at our house and watch them. The girls adore him. Mackie is great with them, too. I could probably call Tom Holland if I was desperate.
Did Y/N have Luca while you were shooting The Falcon and the Winter Soldier?
-Yes. We started shooting in November of 2019 in Atlanta, and she was about 24 weeks pregnant. I took her and the girls with me and Y/N went into labor in February.
When production was set to move to Europe, were they all going with you?
-So when we found out we were set to shoot in Prague we knew Y/N and Luca weren’t going to be able to go since he was going to be too young to travel out of the country. We planned to get her and the baby back to New York in March and I was going to take the girls to Europe with me, so Y/N could focus on Luca and not have to take care of all 3 of them by herself. We were shooting for 3 weeks so it wasn’t a crazy amount of time for us to be apart.
How did the virus change those plans?
-When news of the virus spreading broke we got Y/N, Luca, and the girls to New York before it spread here. Y/N has some family in Florida so they drove up and flew to New York with her so she had help with the baby and the girls. Production was halted the first week of March and I was on the next plane to New York to get back to them.
How scary was it sitting at home with your 3 young kids just watching how quickly the virus was spreading?
-It was terrifying. As a parent all you want is to protect your kids from anything that can hurt them, and you’ll do anything to make sure they’re safe and healthy. I had never felt so helpless. When the numbers kept rising and rising here I felt like we had made a mistake coming back and wished we would’ve stayed in Atlanta. But we didn’t know how long this was going to be happening so it was ultimately the right move to come back here. I’m the one who does all the grocery shopping and leaving the house for essentials. Y/N and Luca have had a few postpartum appointments and checkups but that’s the only time either of them is going out. We are lucky to have a yard for the girls to run around and be able to play outside and for us to get fresh air.
We’re just about wrapped up here but I have a few more questions. These are questions that some fans sent in. How has your life changed over these past few years since becoming a husband and father?
-It’s changed for the better. Meeting Y/N was probably one of the greatest things that have ever happened to me and has given me so many amazing opportunities in my life I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I’m not even just talking about becoming a dad, but she has helped me see things in me I never saw before and she pushed me to become better. I’ve become a better person because of her. There are so many things having kids has taught me, I could probably write books about it. I love my kids with everything in me and couldn’t imagine my life without them, and I never want to.
Do you want more kids?
-Y/N and I would love to have another baby. I don’t want to overwhelm myself or Y/N with adding another baby into the mix too soon. I still have a lot of commitments I’ve made to work once all of this craziness is over. Maybe in a couple of years when I can step back from acting, we’ll revisit the idea of another baby. I do need one more boy to level the playing field. There are going to be 2 teenage girls in this house eventually, I’m going to need all the testosterone I can get. But right now, everything is perfect.
What is one thing you want to make sure your kids remember about you and Y/N after you guys are long gone?
-I want them to remember the love we had for them, and for each other. There’s a line from The Office I always think about every time I see Y/N. “When you’re a kid, you assume your parents are soulmates. My kids are going to be right about that.” My kids are never going to doubt for a second the love I have for Y/N. I hope they grow up believing in that sort of love and one day can share it with their person like I am with mine.
Thank you Sebastian for this amazing interview. I send all my love and well wishes to you, Y/N, Genevieve, Elena, and Luca.
-I’ll be sure to pass that along, thank you so much!
a/n: im a sucker for dad!seb this made me SO SOFT
tagging some mutuals : @bellamys @constantaking @auroraevans @angrybirdcr @auroraevans @tfandtws @smilexcaptainx @rubberducky-jrr @rosetintedbucky @disaffectedbarnes @cosmicbucky @spideyspoods @hollandsosterfield @spideybrie @wildflowerbarnes @marvelxholland @cutesparker @afictionaladventure16
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan x fem!reader#sebastian stan x pregnant!reader#sebastian stan smut#Sebastian Stan x reader#Sebastian Stan x y/n#Sebastian Stan x you#sebastian#stan#seb stan#Sebastian Stan fluff#dad!sebastian stan#dad!sebastian#sexy seabass#Sebastian Stan angst#Chris evans#seba#Chris Evans x reader#marvel#the winter soldier#Bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky#James barnes#Sebastian Stan interview
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The Smell of Truth - II
Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.
Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader
Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.
Words: 3291
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: N/A. Jungkook continues to be just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.
Chapter I - Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII
You have always been enchanted by hybrids. You grew up surrounded by them, they were friends and family. Literally. For exemple, your favorite uncle adopted your cousin, a cat hybrid, when you were five and she was three, he and his wife wanted a second child but could't have one biologically anymore, and you got a friend as a gift. You never saw your cous being treated diferently from her older sister, indeed they were equaly loved by the whole family. You two would run and play for hours together.
You learned some diferences between you and hybrids when living with your cousin in childhood. The first one was that you, unfortunately, don't have fluffy beautiful ears and tail like they do, more than once your mother needed to comfort you before going to sleep cuz you were crying, wanting to be cute too. The second was that you were always at a disadvantage in games like hide and seek and tag you it, but you still had fun. The third is that hybrids can't go to school like normal kids. Until a certain age you were home schooled, taking classes with a tutor, when you turned eleven things changed a little bit, and you started studying at an elite college. Your world expanded, you started to study more hours a day and met new people, new teachers, classmates, you made new friends that gradually showed you a cruel world that you didn't know. Most of your friends were also daughters of politicians and entrepreneurs, just like you, and just like you, they grew up surrounded by hybrids. But while they were family to you, to your classmates they were butlers, maids, pets. Soon you started to understand the injustice of it all, of why you were bullied when you talked about your cousin, why you didn't like to go to some friends' house where you would see them treating their hybrids coldly.
The last straw came when you were fourteen, more specifically your birthday. Until then you kept your friends from meeting your cousin, for fear that the situation would be strang, but it was you birthday, you wanted all your friends in your sleepover, including her. At the beginning of the night you were apprehensive, but your friends did nothing but find your cousin cute and be kind to her, so you relaxed. Everything was going well until one of her best friends decided that she liked your cousin so much that she was going to "ask her father to buy her".Your cousing didn't understand at the time, it was the first time that she was treated as something and not as a person. You were so angry that the party ended right there, most girls left, even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Days later you were expelled from school for getting involved in a fight and assaulting one of the girls who used the wrong word to define your family. You went back to school at home, with the best private tutors, and the world outside was no longer so beautiful. That's how you, already in college, joined a radical activist group for the sake of hybrids.
The concept of owning someone was disgusting for you, that's why you never adopted any hybrid, just fought to free them, in and out of law.That's why you don't recognizes yourself in the decision of getting Jungkook home. But here are you, driving your SUV with him sitting next to you in the passenger's seat. You want the best for each hybrid you have ever rescued, but never before have you been so involved that you are directly responsible for one as you are now doing with him.
Jungkook have followed you to your car, where you gave him a oversized hoodie of yours to wear - the nigth got cold - and snacks that you had prepared for your trip back home. He was really entertained comparing flavors of three diferent chips, that he didn't even noticed when your black outlaw clothes are gone, replaced by a summer dress in a cardigan. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to eat chips, it was probably when he was a kid, and there weren't that many flavors. Of couse, he was refraining from asking you too many questions, that were filling your head like: How is house? Will it be long before we arrive? Do you live with someone else? Do you have other hybrids? Do you do these jobs every night? ... But he kept silent, like a good boy.You said the drive to your city would take about two hours, that he could sleep, but he wanted to keep awake and looking out the window at the landscape, the trees he had never seen so many together and other cars, once in a while passing by with their lights on. It would be beautiful during the day too, he thought. The music playing softly on the radio is also cool.
"Ok." You brake the silence. "We have sometime before we get home, we can talk and get to know each other until then."
Jungkook took a sip of his soda before answering.
"To know each other?"
"Yeah. Like a game where we tell things about ourselves and ask each other something..."
"Got it. How do I win this game?" Jungkook got excited.
"It wasn't supposed to be a competition." You laughed, and then got thoughtful. "If you make a question you got one point. If you tell a fact about yourself without being asked you got two points..."
"Whoever has the most points wins. Ok." Jungkook softly clapped his hands with a happy soud coming from his mouth, the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You showd him where to find paper and pen in the glove compartment for him to write down the points. In one side of the page he writed your initials and in the other, his - JK.
"I go first. Hummm... My full name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm twenty-three. And you, what' is your age?"
"Woaaaa, Y/N! You already have five points, you are good at it." Jungkook excitedly wrote down your points, already thinking about what to say. "I'm twenty-two, but not for long, my birthday is in september. I'm a virgo. What's your sign?"
"Y/S." You responds. "You are into zodiac?"
"Not exactly. But it was a fact about me." Jungkook smile to you making you look away from the road for a moment longer than insurance so you can look at the dimples under his eyes. "Among these three chip flavors, which is your favorite?" "Both cheddar and bacon, I can't choose between them" You answered without hesitation. "Actually I love cheddar and bacon in any context. Did you decided wich one you like the most?"
Jungkook thoughtfully compared the chip packs.
"Nope. I like them all together. I like sweets more. Do you live with someone else?" Jungkook took the courage to ask something that was really on his mind.
"No, is just me in my apartament. But theres always a friend or relative visiting me, almost everyday. "
Jungkook he felt a confusion of feelings, he did not know if he should be happy or disappointed that you lived alone, and as a result, that he will live only with you. It would be nice if you live with siblings or your parents if they are good like you, but at same time if they are bad he prefers to be with just you.
"How is your family?" He asked before you could make your next question.
"They are great." You said, your tone of voice and eyes ligthing up with affection. "I'm single child, but my family is quite big. We are all focused on progressive thinking of liberating hybrids. That's why I'm part of activist groups ... Of course, only I do this more clandestine work, and my mother doesn't even know. She would be crazy worry. You will like them I think. I have like six cousins, two girls and four guys... Oh my God, they will tease me so much for bringing a boy to live with me..."
Clearly your family is a trigger for you to talk non-stop. Jungkook concluded that your family must be really cool, for you to like them so much, making him wanting to know them too. It got him a little nervous. What would them think about him? Your talking makes your family look amazing, while he’s no big deal. Worse than being uninteresting is not being liked, and there are really bad things about him ... More bad than good things actually. Your family not liking him is scary, and thinking that you might know about his bad past and not liking him any longer suddenly made him anxious.
You were bragging about your great-aunt's cooking skills when noticed Jungkook got too quiet.
"You are ok, Jungkook?"
He looked at you awkwardly, eyes round like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Yes."
"Sorry I talked too much." You let a weak laugh out, feeling embarrassed. "Is your turn now. Go ahead."
Jungkook looked through the window, avoiding looking to you.
"I don't know what else I have to say... You already won anyway." He showed you the score, your inicials with no space left to write down points.
"Oh I bet you have a lot of things to say."
"Not good things." Jungkook dared to say, already regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.Your voice softned.
"You don't need to tell me anything you are not ready to tell. Even if you're never ready. But I know that you are a person, and people are made up of many things, not just bad things." A moment of silence followed, you thinking about the next thing to say. "If you don't want to talk about past things... Lets talk about the future. What do you want to have for lunch tomorrow?"
________________________________________________________________
At some point Jungkook finally fell asleep. You drove an entire hour alone, slowly sipping an energy drink, his soft snores beside you not letting you forget about his presence. Everything you want is to sleep too, your eyes heavy, your body numb. You were thinking of it an how you would be in your bed about time, in your fluffy pijamas and warm socks, when blue and red lights appeared in your rear view mirror.
You pulled over and waited to the cop to come closer to lower the window
."Good nigth, officer."
You greeted in a low voice.The man just nodded writing down your license plate.
"Do you know why I made you pull over?" He said, louder than you.
"No, sir." You calmly answered, shrugging. "I was not above the speed limit and my tail lights are ok."
He made an approving sound.
"Papers please."
You turned on the light and reached out to get your documents from the glove compartment, making Jungkook open his sleepy eyes with a groan.
"Y/N?" He called with a pout. The ultimate pout."Shhh. Keep sleeping, babe. We didn't arrived yet."
He obeyed immediately, leaning his head on the window, and you can tell he didn't really wake up in the first place. He was with his cap and hoodie on, so the cop couldn't see his ears and know he is a hybrid. And theis way is better, you thought.
"Your boyfriend?" The cop asked while analyzing your driver's license.Time to improvise with your acting skills.
"Kind of." You timidly put a lock of hair behind your ear.He scanned the trash in the car."Any alcohol?"
"No, sir. Just energy drink and soda." You smiled.
He did the breathalyzer test on you anyway.
Since it didn't point to guilty results, you were released to continue your journey.
You took a deep breath, glad he didn't asked to inspect the car, he would surely find something that would link you to the terrorist act against the shelter, as the newspapers would for sure report the next day.
The good part is that forging Jungkook's adoption document in your name with a date prior to the rescue will be super easy, as the shelter's records blew up in the explosion. That thought made you relax and start driving normally. ________________________________________________________________
"Jungkook. Jungkook wake up." You shook his shoulder, his sleep too heavy. His head fell forward, making him jump in his spot, blinking heavily, the ultimate pout making another appearance. "We arrived, Jungkook."
Jungkook slowly regained consciousness, seeing you standing outside the car, beside him, holding the door open for him to get out.
"We're at home?." His face got bright.
"Yeah. Come."
It was a courtyard at the back of a small old building, it was still early in the morning, the sky was still dark and no one in town was awake. You turned on the car alarm, and guided a still sleepy but very attentive to the details of the new place, Jungkook, to the back door of the building, taking the bunch of keys out of his pocket - of your hoodie that he was wearing. He liked the proximity, the soud of the keys and the smell of the place. Actually the smell was pretty amazing, specially when you opened the door and everything inside got your smell, and others good things.
You noticed his nose working in the air and laughed.
"Is a flower shop. Do you like it?" You asked.
Something made sense to Jungkook, it's not that the place smelled like you, you smelled like flowers because of the place.
"Yeah. Is pretty good." He said still sniffing the air.
"On the first floor we have the shop, on the second the shop office and a photo studio that I rent to a friend... And on the third and fourth is our home." You tell him as you go up the stairs, he following you closely. "Early on, both the store and the office are open, but this should not be a problem if you want to sleep till late."
"Ok."
You two whispered up to the third floor, a small corridor with two doors on one side and windows on the other. You stepped forward to the first door, the entrance to the living room and struggled to fide the rigth key in the dark.
Jungkook noticed a faint light coming from under the door and a murmur inside. There was someone in there. He got alert and slightly apprehensive.
You finally oppened the door and got inside, dropping your heavy bag on the floor, the keys in the corner table, kicking off your boots. Jungkook got inside with short steps, looking around cautiously, looking for the person who would ambush you both. The light was the TV... He smelled a cat.
"Y/n?" A sweet and sleepy voice reached your ears, a little form lifted on the couch. A sniffing soud and the sweet voice got hostile. "Who is this?"
"Yeri, you are here." You smiled, not really caring for the mood changing of her. Jungkook stepped behind you a little. "This is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Yeri, my cousin."
"Hi." Jungkook tryied.
"What's he doing here? You never brought anyone home ..."
And by anyone she meant hybrids, and Jungkook knows it. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just her luminous cat eyes with vertical pupils, the dominant presence of those who had their territory invaded radiating from her.
"There is always a first time I guess." You say, still ignoring the awkward atmosphere, taking off your cardigan and hanging it on the rack behind the front door. "Are you in the guest room?"
Yeri got up and turned off the TV.
"No. I'm sleeping with you."Clearly she didn't trust Jungkook yet. If you bet, she was ready to sleep in the guest room, but now she decided to sleep with you to protect you from the stranger.
"Ok." You said.
"Ok." She said.
She turned on the light in the corridor, taking a few steps to the top floor, with bare feet and cute pijamas, and then stopped looking at Jungkook. Now he could see her face. The scariest cat he has ever seen. "Welcome to the family." And than she disappeared up the stairs.
Jungkook gulped, not sure what to think about it.
"She liked you." You told him, putting a hand in the small of his back.
"How do you know?" He asked you with round eyes.
"She didn't say she disliked you." You smiled. "Yeri is pretty honest about her feelings."
You took him to a room in the hall, with a messy cat-smelling bed in the middle, an empty desk and an armchair close to the window, and an empty closet. Beside the bed on the floor was an open handbag , with women's clothing showing up.
"She said she wasn't going to sleep here..." Jungkook pointed.
"Yeah, she lied about it. She wouldn't let me put you to sleep on the couch, though..." You went down the hall and came back with another blanket. "Aaaand, this will be your room. You'd better get used to it."
You fixed the sheets and changed the blanket and pillowcases, probably to help with the cat smell, odorless bedding help to make the bed more of him.
"That's what I can offer you for now, after all I wasan't expecting to adopt you. We can fix it later." You tiredly said, picking Yeri's bag from the floor.
"Ah... Don't worry.". Jungkook wanted to say he was already happy with what he got, that being adopted in firts place was more than he expected, that he was greatfull of your caring so far. But he couldn't find the words to put in on.
"Good, bucause I'm dead tired... I need to sleep, and you do too." You gave him a pat in his back, and went to the door. "If you need it, theres a bathroom in the end of the corridor. Good night." And than you closed the door behind you.
Jungkook waited for the sound your staps desapeard to start moving and breathing again. He was in his room! He ran to the window and opened the curtains a little to see outside, it seemed to be a main street in a small town, but Jungkook had never stepped in a small town before to have reference. He tryied the armchair and conclued it was confortable enouth to take a nap on it. The closet was big enough for him to fit in - he tested it - another possible place for good naps. With leaps of joy he imagined all the things he could kept there, the clothes and shoes he didn't have yet but dream of having. Fantasizing about when you were going to take him to shopping, he put the hat on one of the top shelves and closed the double doors carefully, to make any noise. And then threw himself on the bed, scenting the sheets, sighing contentedly. He took off his shoes and placed beside the bad, his wallet in the nigthstand - open like a picture frame, showing the photo of two hybrid little boys embracing and smiling - , and the suffed bunny lying next to him with it's own pillow.
All in this room felt so real to him, as much as your smell. If you said it will be his room so it's true, because se believe in you, and he is so happy.With the thought of a bright future with you Jungkook finally fell asleep again.
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Tag list: @stayunderthelights @deolly @panconte
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Thakyou!!! Let me know if you liked it... <3 <3 <3 This is a sub blog so I wont respond coments, but I read it all.
#bts fanfic#bts fanfction#bts hybrid fic#bts blog#bts fluff#hybrid bts#hybrid jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook imagine#bts angst#dog jungkook#bangtanshadowfamily
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