#winter home remedies | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-4pphics · 7 months

Text

click! 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep, all ocs r black coded, crack, alcohol, arguments, more slut-shaming, bullying, disordered eating, brief mentions of sexual harassment/assault, sex for like a second, failed orgasms, masturbation, slight exhibitionism

one. three. four.

A/N: heyyyyy…. how yall doin🤭🤭 a little something before i go back to work kms

“So, lemme get this straight,” Abby pinches a lollipop stick between her fingers like it’s a blunt, adjusting the invisible glasses on her face, “The psycho just barged in?”

“With all of her shit! Didn’t even bother to say good morning or anything!”

It’s been hours since the squash-loving hermit took refuge in your home, and you’re sizzling with rage as you recall the events from earlier. You clocked out zoomed to Abby’s building in no time.

“Damn… why didn’t you call security… or the landlord? She can’t just move in without signing the contract.”

You pace around Abby’s rug-covered space, “Bitch, I don’t fuck with feds and rent’s due in two days!” You holler, “And she did sign the contract! I haven’t signed it yet because I didn’t know she was gonna show up and act like that. You’re not disrespecting me in my own house.”

Her head shakes, “What’d I tell you? If it were me… we wouldn’t have any problems.”

You point a scolding finger at the smirking blonde girl, “Yes, we fucking would. Don’t start.”

But she presses anyway, “I think we’d be a match made in heaven, actually.” She rises from the couch and hovers over you, the tip of your index connecting with her strong, covered chest. Your glare persists, but there’s warmth pulling in your gut from her scent.

Your skin is flaming; This is why you’ll never be able to have a serious conversation — or anything, for that matter — with Abby. Her raunchy remedies aren’t going to work in this situation; You’re too stressed.

“But anyway,” Her brow arches and she backs off. Slightly. “You’re an adult and main tenant. You gotta handle it soon.” She ponders for a moment, “But to be fair, you texted her first.”

“How many times do I have to say that I was lit as fuck! I don’t even remember— “

Abby’s taunting expression makes you pause, nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Don’t.”

Your hiss makes her snort, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not funny.”

Abby knows you and Dina’s history better than anyone. Knows exactly how you got caught up in “situationship” nonsense, all with liquor and a phone. You can’t fault Abby for recognizing the familiarity, but a burning sting rests in your chest. Embarrassment spreads all over your cheeks, and you announce your departure in a rush.

Her regret is evident in the way she calls out for you, but you’re out the door in seconds, slamming it as hard as the frame can hold.

The winter air hits your eyes first… You try to convince yourself, hastily wiping the wet trails off your face. You’re not fucking crying over Dina. Not again.

You snatch your phone from your pocket to ask Amaya for advice, but your heart swells when you see her messages.

You think back to all the times she’s coddled you through your emotions: she drops everything to tend to your needs, no matter how big or small. Guilt would put you in the ground if she ruins her opportunity for your convenience; You can’t tell her. She deserves to enjoy herself. You match your best friend’s excitement all the way back to your car.

Abby called twice during the drive back home, but you didn’t answer. You know she wasn’t being malicious, but you’re sensitive, especially when it comes to anything related to Dina.

You rip your apartment door open and find Ellie lounging on your fucking couch with Love Island playing from her laptop. And eating peanuts… with Chick-Fil-A ranch?

You slam her device shut, words sharp as nails, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m telling you right now, you’re not fucking staying here.” You’re shredding through skin with your glare, but she’s not reacting. Just sitting there and crunching, eyes void.

“Don’t even think about unpacking. You’re getting out tonight, I can promise you that.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What.”

She merely shrugs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What the fuck— “

More cracked shells, more munching; Your eyelid is jerking.

“Rent’s on the counter, by the way.”

You hold back a scoff before marching into the kitchen, eyeing the envelope labeled fake ass mortgage. You hear the contestants from the reality show resume their dialogue, but you’re locked on how thick the letter looks to bother scolding.

It’s torn open… and filled with hundred-dollar bills. Way more than half of rent. Ellie might’ve covered the heat bill for the rest of winter.

“I thought you were a fucking photographer.” The shock in your voice is clear as day, mindlessly returning to the living room.

“I am.” She calls dryly.

“No, you’re not.” You toss the money on the coffee table. “The fuck do you do on the side? Sell drugs to freshmen?”

“Sure.”

When your arms cross over your chest with an accusatory stare, she sighs. “I told you. I take pictures.”

“Of who? The fucking councilman?”

Another shrug. “Whoever asks. It’s how I make money…” A light pause. “At least until I secure this job.”

You squint at her, “I thought you got evicted. You’re clearly fit to pay rent on your own.”

That seems to shake her a little, staring back with hardened eyes, “And who the fuck are you to question me? The reason I’m here is because of you!”

“Exactly! This...” Arms waving around the living room. “…is my fucking space! You’re a straggler at best.”

A weighted huff escapes her before she tosses her snack on the table and stands, leaning over the table.

“You would’ve been in the same position as me if I didn’t show up. No where to fucking go,” She spits. “If you want me gone, fine. But when your landlord comes knocking on your fucking door asking why you’re two weeks late, don’t say shit to me.”

You waver slightly and she notices, smirk darker than her pupils. You’re steaming; Smoke is going to come out of your ears soon.

“The same goes for you. I don’t wanna hear your fucking voice, and don’t touch anything that I paid for,” You command, “Don’t even breathe in my space. Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”

A condescending grin plasters onto her face.

“Where’d you hide that lease?”

Your heart is too weak for hatred… or so you thought.

Abby, Amaya… everyone you’ve fucking talked to about the bitch right across the hall thinks that she’s dangerous and sick and out for blood.

They’re all wrong. It’s you.

Ellie is conjuring up something villainous deep inside you; Her childish antics started off small: bumping against the wall in the middle of the night, leaving her dirty ass shoes out of place by the front door, not laying the rugs that she slipped on flat… Incredibly annoying, but fixable.

You took the time to construct a new roommate agreement that fit your unique situation the morning after your argument. It was sloppily scribbled on a crumpled piece of construction paper, but it was a symbol of peace. You taped it to her door before you left for your shift, only to return and see it ripped up and scattered in front of your door.

It’s been five days since then. Five, and you can already feel a bald spot forming at the back of your skull. To think that Ellie was your first option as a roommate just days ago is laughable now. You know that none of the tricks she’s pulling are accidental. You pride yourself in being observant, and you always catch that prideful look on her face when she nails one of your peeves.

You try to be here when Ellie’s not, but she’s always home when you are. Music blasting in the wee hours of the night knowing you have three upcoming shifts to cover, on the couch rewatching the same episode of Love Island over and over while you make your breakfast, pretending to talk on the phone to friends she doesn’t have as loudly as possible. You’re fucking tired and you’re holding your hand back from slapping her.

But the worst part is that she’s stocked your fridge with fucking squash. Top to bottom in all colors there is. Filled the drawers with one called cucurbita argyrosperma. You were torn between curling in hysterics and beating it over your new roommate's head; The petty side of your brain wishes that you were allergic so you could “accidentally” eat some, die, and get her locked up, but you hushed it. She’s fucking with you, but rent and some bills are paid for the month. What a sick turn of events.

You’re plotting, though. Something’s brewing, and Abby’s helping you. It’s finally Saturday, and college kids are fiending for a rager.

The only quality that you respect about Ellie is that she’s clean. She washes her dishes, does her laundry (separate from yours, thank God), and she’s deep-cleaned the bathroom twice already. Ellie despises large messes more than you, though, since you’re willing to sacrifice your tidy abode to piss her off. Let the ruckus in!

You heard her leave early this morning, and you’ve noticed that when she’s gone, she’s gone, which gives you all the time to plan. You skip to the bathroom like a kid in a candy store, showering, brushing your teeth, doing skincare. You whip up the hardiest breakfast you can before your mall venture with Abby; It’s been days since you’ve last nutted, and you need a new vibrator. And new paintbrushes.

“… Why haven’t you beat her ass again?”

It only took Abby buying food for you to forgive her. You slurp down your strawberry milkshake, “Fear of permanent imprisonment.”

“Does Maya know what’s been going on?” Abby asks, shaking her head.

“Fuck no, and she’s never going to. Have you seen her Snaps?” You whip out your phone and show her Amaya’s stories; She’s exploring and meeting new people. “She’s having a ball! The second I tell her what’s been going on, she’s gonna drop everything and come back. I’m not doing that to her.”

“You’re the only outlet I have, so suck it up and listen to me bitch and moan.” You continue, “Who’s coming tonight?”

She smiles, “As many as I could get.”

“Please tell me Armani’s coming.”

“She is, for sure.”

Your heart flutters. Armani… She’s everything you could ever want and need. She’s kind, smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and she bench presses with Abby on the weekends. She has your clit jumping like a salmon in the freshwater, and you’re going to see her tonight.

You jump awake at your alarm, eyes stinging as you glance at your phone. It’s a little past nine; Pregaming hours.

You throw your lazy body into the shower and conduct your special-occasions ritual, blasting your music as loud as the speaker would allow, scrubbing your body with exfoliant to your heart's content.

You exit, water cascading down your shoulders and back, towel engulfed around your body. You have no idea what to fucking wear; What color does Armani like? Do lesbians qualify for the red nail theory or is that something heteros made up for TikTok followers? What if she doesn’t like eucalyptus scented body wash?

You swallow your doubts with a shot glass.

Outfit prepping takes longer than expected, but you’re dressed, titties are out, and your thoughts are swirling like the liquor in your gut. You should call Amaya and tell her you love her—

Another shot, more dancing. You’re spinning around your small room to the bass of the beat, sloppily pulling every shot that you can, back arching and hips throwing in any direction they can.

The bass sounds louder the more you dance, every thud rattling the poster-covered walls of your room.

It’s not until the bass surpasses the song that you realize it’s not bass at all. It’s knocking… on your bedroom door. You snicker; Abby’s here with your girl.

You don’t know why she’s boxing with your door, though. Beating the shit out of it. When you yank it open, you’re instantly annoyed at who appears behind it.

A… gray sweat clad Ellie propped against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest and red hairs framing her face. You force your eyes upward, right in between hers. The dots on her face look like skittles. Since when does she have a fucking tattoo? Are you hallucinating or is it a fat ass leaf with eyeballs?

You barely registered what she said, “Can you turn that off? It’s almost eleven.”

“Why, absolutely-the-fuck-not.” You slur, and she cringes, nose wrinkling at the scent of liquor on you. “Where’s Abby?”

Ellie’s biceps are… out on the prowl. And the veins in her hands are still there. Just checking. Right between her eyes again.

“Who the hell is that?”

“My bitch.” You chuckle.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you correct yourself.

“N-Not bitch like whore. Bitch like… like, that’s my bitch! She’s great, love her. BFF… not over Amaya, though.”

Ellie’s getting annoyed; Her nose won’t stop twitching. “… Is she coming over?”

“She should be on her way.”

“Is she stupid?”

“What.”

“Is your… bitch stupid?”

“Um, no, she’s not fucking stupid. What the hell are you on.” You snap, offended for your friend.

“Tell her to stay the fuck home before she gets buried.”

… Did Ellie just threaten to kill one of your sneaky-links? Before she gets buried?

“And what the fuck are you gonna do? Just so you know, whatever you do, she’ll double it and send it back! And I’m jumping in, so— “

Your roommate’s gawking in disbelief. “… I meant buried by the snow, you fucking idiot. There’s a blizzard outside.”

You’re flatlining, you can feel it.

“There’s a what.”

“Check the damn news.” She pushes herself off the wall and turns towards her room, “And go to bed. Looks like you need it.”

Her door slams shut. She’s definitely poking fun at your eyebags. You thought you did a good job at concealing them.

A fucking blizzard? December just started. You check your phone, reading the influx of messages from your dad, Amaya, Abby telling you to stay safe and indoors and the party’s cancelled because of the storm and you want to fucking die—

You tear a slit in your blinds and… yup. Pure white is pelting from the dark gray clouds in the sky, the formerly black street painted ivory with ice. Not a car in sight, and if they are, they’re covered entirely.

The harsh reality hasn’t even set in yet. The girl you want to strangle is trapped inside with you; She’s not going anywhere, either. You’re going to be forced to see her everywhere in your two-bedroom apartment. And you’re not having sex tonight.

Plan PISS-ELLIE-OFF was a bust. You’re drunk and hungry—

Your eyes bulge; When was the last time you’ve gone grocery shopping?

You clumsily rush to the kitchen, nearly ripping your fridge door off the handle. When you're met with the pack of cream cheese and mini croissants you bought last week and all of Ellie’s fresh groceries (including squash), you almost start crying. You slept away all your pre-storm chore hours.

Ellie pads in the kitchen with an empty ice cream carton and spoon, headphones blasting in her ears. She doesn’t acknowledge you as she throws away the carton and grabs the unopened bag of salt and vinegar chips. Your mouth waters.

You watch as she rips the bag open, the salty, bitter aroma traveling into your nostrils.

“Ellie.” She can’t hear you over the fuckery penetrating her eardrums!

You tap her shoulder harder than necessary. “Don’t touch me.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS A STORM?”

Her veiny hand — fuck — pushes one of her ear cups over to the side, not even bothering to look at you as she fills her bowl to the brim with the crunchy snack; You never noticed how heavily pierced her left ear is.

“Who are you again?”

Alright. Your tongue gets loose, “You know, you don’t have to act like a fucking cunt all the time! I tried to be nice to you and—”

“Yeah, ‘cause shit talking me with your friends is so fucking nice.” She scoffs and turns, pointed glare set on you. Your stomach drops. How the fuck did she know that?

“Drop the fucking act already. You’re also a cunt…” Her eyes drag over your appearance. “Amongst other things, evidently.”

Ellie’s eyes hold so much disdain, and you instantly feel exposed and gross. Your face sears with embarrassment, arms mindlessly crossing over your chest in attempts to cover up.

“… What the fuck does that mean?” You know what she means.

“You think I’m a fucking freak and a loser and a bunch of other shit I’ve been called since forever?” She sneers, “Then you’re a fucking slut. How’s that for nice?”

Your body locks up, freezes, and you fight back vomit. Ellie grabs her bowl and exits the kitchen, door slamming shut, leaving you to simmer in her spite.

You don’t feel hungry anymore.

You didn’t drink enough last night. You’re awake, and you remember everything. And you’re so fucking hungry.

Guilt festers in your chest like rats, and anxiety is building in your fingers. Your head hurts so bad and your mouth is dry, but you refuse to move from under your blankets to get water. You didn’t even have the energy to take your make-up off last night, mascara and small sparkles smeared all over your pillowcase.

You wallow, using the heavy wind outside as stress relief. People really think you’re a whore with no self-respect, even after a year. Your heart’s hitting against your ribcage at an alarming pace. Deep breaths, that’s all you can do.

Tears jerk in your eyes as you recall every unwanted stare, every cat-call, every grope and dirty text message you’ve received from people you both know and don’t. You freeze and… that’s it. You just don’t move and hope they can read that you’re scared.

Does Ellie feel the same way when people talk poorly about her?

Your breathing techniques aren’t working so you sit up, shaking your hands and digging your palms into your wet eyes. You’re suddenly too hot for blankets.

Your clock reads near noon; You’ve been awake for hours. Your feet plant on the cool wood and sigh in relief before standing and snagging your new paint brushes off your dresser.

Your hands tremble as you fill a water cup and grab a black canvas, setting up your workspace on the floor. You squirt hues of blue, green and white on a dried paper plate and let your brush do the work; You’re not thinking, just painting, smudging, trapping yourself in emptiness. The scene you’re creating is drying your tears; You wish you could escape into the grass field, even for a second.

Your water cup is brown by the time you finish; How long have you been sitting here? The needles in your legs tell you long enough. Your vision will have to wait.

You unlock and quietly open the door… It doesn’t matter, though. Ellie’s awake and silently sitting on the couch. You pay her no mind and venture to the fridge for your croissants and cream cheese, throwing your pastries in the microwave.

Eyes are on you. You feel them in your back.

When the microwave dings, you spread cream cheese all over the buttery dough. Ellie’s hoarse voice freezes you. Not again.

“The blizzard… isn’t stopping.”

You finally inspect your roommate: leg bouncing and brows furrowed, nails between her teeth, eyes locked on the window that shows the heavy snowfall.

“Usually how they work.”

Your sarcasm doesn’t move her, “They said it would pass after a couple of hours yesterday! It hasn’t let up yet!”

“Never listen to weathermen. They make shit up as they go.” You keep your voice curt while you make your plate. It looks a hot mess; You wish you had blackberry jam.

“They can’t make shit up when there’s money on the fucking line!” You hear footsteps from behind you; Ellie’s pacing. “I have a client today. Their photos were supposed to go in my portfolio before I submit it!”

Her statement makes you pause. You didn’t think about that; It’s impossible to travel anywhere at the moment. How the fuck are you going to get to work? You can’t afford to miss shifts. It’s almost that time of the month.

“This was one of the biggest bookings I’ve gotten and I’m gonna miss it because of the fucking weather!”

You don’t know why she's talking to you, so you cut the conversation short. “You’ll figure it out.” You enter your room without another word, slamming the door as hard as noise complaints would allow.

After a few minutes, Ellie’s door slams, too.

Hours pass and you’re covered in paint. Your one flower field turned into three, one with detailed butterflies, one with raining rose petals, one with your mother’s name spelled out with clouds.

Your fingers are sore, but you feel lighter. Those croissants wore off a long time ago; You’re starving. What you’d give for grilled eggplant and shrimp with Greek yogurt and lemon juice—

A soft knock lands on your door, and you stiffen. You stand, legs popping and arms stretching over your head as you wobble to your door.

The second it opens, you're hit with the smell of garlic and herbs and your mouth waters. Ellie stands over you, playing with her fingers. You don’t register that you’re missing pants until she gawks at your bare legs; Warmth spreads across your body and you maneuver so she can’t see them behind the door.

A moment of awkward silence before she chokes, “There’s, uh… there’s soup on the stove.” You scoff, ignoring the growling in your stomach.

“I don’t like squash, Ellie.”

The door slams in her face and she sighs behind the wood.

…

Later that night, you sneak into the dark kitchen, the big pot of soup still on the stove. You open the lid and inspect its contents: shredded chicken, carrots, fucking… green leaves of some sort. You grab a spoon and taste it to be safe. It’s good, and there’s no squash in it. You eat two warm bowls.

The storm calms when you wake the next morning. Thank God; You haven’t had coffee in days.

Ellie’s gone for the day, so you blast music while in the shower. You dry and dress in silence, yanking your underwear and jeans up your legs, throwing on a pair of earmuffs over your earphones and a puffer.

You almost slip on the ice from the sidewalk on the way to you and Abby’s coffee shop before heading to class like normal. You go grocery shopping before your first shift.

Work drags on like normal, legs numb from standing and throat dry from sale attempts at checkout. Who the fuck wants to apply for a credit card for a coffee machine website?

It’s not until your shift is on its last limbs that your heart stops in your chest. The bell rings to the hardware store, and you instantly rush to the back to retrieve your other coworker. It’s Dina. What the fuck.

You burst into the break room, “Raja, Raja, I need a favor.”

She slurps her ramen, exclaiming what around her soggy noodles.

You search for any heads and whisper, “There’s someone I used to fuck outside! Can you take care of her, please, I can’t— “

“Okay, okay, damn. I got it— “

The service bell rings, “Go, go! Hurry up!” Your coworker swallows her noodles and plasters her smile on her face. You hide behind the cracked door and listen to everything.

“Hey, ladies! Sorry about the wait!”

“No problem!” Dina’s laugh sends a pain in your chest, “I just needed a new bike lock. Someone tried to steal mine, like, what the fuck.”

There’s an unfamiliar laugh that melds with Dina’s. “No problem! Would you like to sign up for a Coffee Brewers credit card with your purchase? They’ll repair all filter baskets and decanters for 45% off!”

You almost smile; Dina doesn’t drink coffee. Raja checks them out, and you peer out the small opening of the door. Dina and… whoever the fuck that is are snuggled up behind the service counter, her head resting on the random’s shoulder. They’re whispering and laughing and you’re disgusted. And sad.

They depart with a small bag and Raja almost smashes the door into your face.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Mourning.”

“Damn… sorry, man.”

You shrug and thank your coworker before returning to your position. What could’ve been.

It’s late when you get home.

Ellie’s on the couch; You feel her watch as you unlace your boots and unravel your scarf. You set your bag on the floor and grab your Cheesecake Factory brown bread loaf for your grilled PB&J. Ellie clears her throat; You say nothing.

She coughs louder when you butter your bread.

“Are you sick or something?”

Ellie whips her head around, “No, why?”

“You’re coughing like you’re gonna die.”

Your roommate doesn’t reply, so you turn and toast your bread on the stove.

“How was the soup?”

Your eyes bulge, “Huh?”

“Did it taste… like, decent?”

You stare down at your sizzling toast, “I dunno what you mean.”

Voice flat as ever, she says, “The soup… you had some— “

“No, I didn’t— “

“Wha— I know what was in the pot when I ate. You had some—”

You face her, skin boiling, “Okay, and what about it? Yes, I ate some! I would’ve had three bowls instead of two if I wasn’t so fucking tired! It was good as fuck! I slept like a baby!”

She calls your name but you ignore her, “Sorry, I got my disgusting, slutty germs all over your stupid chicken noodle soup! Is that what you wanna hear! What, are whores not allowed food, either?! Why’d you offer it to me then?!”

Another rushed call of your name, but you press on, “Y’know, you’re actually weird as fuck! Who calls someone a filthy, bottom of the barrel gutter rat then offers them soup the next day! What kinda limbo fuckery are you playin’ at— “

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP… BEEP—

You gasp when the fire alarm sounds. When you turn, your toast is charred black and surrounded by dark smoke. You cut the heat off and push the pan over. Ellie’s running with a towelette, waving it around the beeping alarm.

You grab a washcloth and help her, and eventually it cuts off. Ellie rushes over to the front door and switches the ceiling fan on.

Your sandwich is fucking ruined. Great!

You don’t know why you’re sobbing, but it’s loud. You just want to go to fucking bed. Ellie’s just standing there with a towel in hand, fiddling with her earlobe. How embarrassing.

You push yourself off the counter and turn to go to your room, but Ellie calls for you.

“What?! What now, Ellie!”

She cringes, “I— You’re not a… slut?”

Your teary eyes squint at her. “Are you asking me— “

“No! No, I’m… Sorry? You’re not a slut.” This is the weirdest apology you’ve ever received in your entire goddamn life.

“Well, fuck me! Thanks!” You snark between sniffles. You yank your bedroom door open.

“You’re good at painting!” She shouts, and you stop.

For some reason, you sob harder, and she panics, “Uhh… I mean, like, for an amateur! Like, you’re decent enough!”

Now you’re… laughing? You need to sleep now. Ellie chuckles uncomfortably, and you snicker darkly to yourself, “Life is a fucking joke, oh my god.”

Your fingers dig deep into your wet eyes, and Ellie’s sock-covered feet pad closer.

“Look, I’m not… I don't know what to say.”

“Then don’t talk.”

“‘Kay.”

She stands there in silence and watches you wipe your face on your sweater sleeve, mascara smearing all over the fabric.

“Why didn’t you use squash in the soup?”

“Uh… you wouldn’t have eaten it if I did.”

You nod and stare at the wall. “So, what? That was a peace offering?”

Ellie contemplates what she should say.

“Not really… I mean, I was hungry, but I didn’t care if you ate… some of it, if that makes sense.”

It doesn’t. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.” Her lip curls like she wants to add something, but she doesn’t.

“… Alright.”

“Don’t worry about the pan. I’ll get it tomorrow.” And just like that, you shut the door on her again.

You don’t have the energy to shower, so you undress and tuck yourself in. Your room is warmer than usual.

Ellie’s been acting differently since then.

For the past three days, she’s been greeting you whenever you’re in her line of vision. She even mumbled hi before she took her seat in stats yesterday. It’s awkward and stiff, but there’s always a wave somewhere in her movements. You nod back at her every time.

You’re not sure where your relationship lies with your roommate, but it’s not as… bad? Seeing her doesn’t bother you as much as it did; You suppose it’s the same for her, too.

You’re exhausted; Finals are around the corner, and you’re busting your ass. You had to get another job for the holiday season since it’s you and your dad’s first Christmas together since you were little, and you want to get him something nice.

All you need is a good nut and you’re set for the next two weeks. You miss Abby. She’s been just as busy with nonsense as you have, but you found time to see her later tonight.

You’re stuck in the library trying to make the concept of categorical variables stick, but it’s not working. You’re in a block because you’re thinking about Abby. She should be here to pick you up soon.

You slam your book shut when your phone goes off, a message from… Ellie.

You set your phone down with a small smile. What a weirdo.

You force yourself to study for another hour. Heavy hands clamp down on your shoulders and you shriek, other students looking up in confusion, your hand clasping over your mouth.

Abby’s laughing behind you, warm breaths hitting your ear before she kisses your cheek.

“Hi.” She whispers.

“Hi yourself.”

“Pack that shit up.” Abby points at your books and messy stacks of paper. “Let’s roll.”

You don’t hesitate, shoving everything in your bag in anticipation of your nut. Your clit’s cheering; She’s finally happy.

You’re warm, well-fed, and Abby’s drilling the fuck out of you, but you can’t cum.

Your face is shoved into your friend’s pillow; She’s hitting exactly where you need her to, and it feels good. You’re tipping, but you haven’t tipped. You’ve been on the verge of orgasming for the past ten minutes and it’s driving you crazy.

Your voice is barely there, “Just cuuum, just cum, just cum—“ You’re begging… yourself into her pillow.

Abby sounds so sexy behind you; You’re shocked you’re not convulsing at the sound of her voice alone.

After some time, her hips slowed into a stop, tip nudged inside you.

“… You good?” She exhales.

You throw her two thumbs up. You’re not good at all.

Abby snorts and pulls out, gently patting your hip, “Sit up and talk to me.”

Your legs give out from underneath you and you lay flat. Abby hands you a washcloth and you wipe between your legs while she unstraps her dick.

“I think I’m broken.” You muffle into her slobbery pillowcase.

“You’re not broken, you’re just not feeling it. It’s fine.”

She’s too sweet. You want to cry, “I’m sor— “

“Don’t you dare. Finish your Wingstop.”

“Okay.” You grumble.

Abby drops you off after the movie finishes. The red string that connects her clit to yours snaps as you waddle back up to your apartment.

You enter your shared home and you’re instantly freezing; Ellie’s not here. She hates sleeping when it’s cold.

You and your pussy sigh in relief. Just five minutes by yourself; that’s all you need. Your shoes and backpack are thrown to the side in the nick of time, bursting through your bedroom door and rummaging through your drawer. Your cunt screams eureka when your vibrator turns on. You don’t remember charging the son of a bitch!

Your pants and panties are lunged across your bedroom and you leap into bed. Your toy’s buzzing in your hand, and your walls squeeze in anticipation. Foreplay be damned.

Your eyes shut the second the vibrations hit your clit, trying to imagine a sweaty Abby on top of you, fucking you deep, choking you out. Your orgasm is right there, walls desperately trying to milk the brisk air around you. You shove two free fingers inside, and your muscles latch onto them, pulling them in deeper. It’s right there, just a little more.

“Please, please, c’mon, fuck— “

Your pleas go ignored. Your imagination has never failed you, so why can’t you fucking cum?

Desperate sobs combine with your moans, brain filled with Abby, and Dina. Even Armani slips her way in there and you’ve seen her twice in person, but it’s useless. Your peak never comes.

You’re seconds away from shattering your window with your fucking vibrator. You and Ellie can’t afford to get that shit fixed—

Your clit jumps at the brief image of your roommate, pissed off and berating you about breaking a fucking window. You hate that you don’t fight it, the visions of her and her strong arms, her twitchy nose, her dot-covered face. It’s stirring something vicious in your tummy, and you can’t keep your mouth shut.

You see her on top of you instead of Abby, her short hair loosening from her bun and framing her blushing face. Pretty, moss-filled eyes stare back at you, annoyance and bother replaced with something darker. Needier; She wants you to take from her.

“Fuck, fuck, mmh— “

Your hips buck when your positions switch in your mind, a blushing, spent Ellie, reaching for you, pulling you close, begging to touch her.

You’re so loud when your orgasm splits your brain in two, your stress melting away in an instant, nasty, unspoken visuals of your pouty and weird housemate fluttering beneath your eyelids. You ride your high until you can’t, vibrator clattering to the floor, walls flexing around nothing.

You’re so tired that you don’t bother moving. You pull the covers over your trembling form and knock out, not even bothering to turn your shaking toy off as it rattles on the hardwood.

It’ll be dead by the time Ellie comes home. If she does.

…

Ellie lays on her side in her bed, knees pulled to her chest, her tattooed arm wrapped around her tummy and a hand covering her mouth. Her face is burning hot and her stomach is swirling. Whenever she blinks, she can see you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you surrender to your release.

Her heart is racing and minutes away from crawling up her throat.

She completely forgets to put in that maintenance request for your broken heater; She’s warm enough under the covers for tonight.

A/N: hi again its finna pick up LEMME COOOOOK LEMME COOK

TAGGIES LOVE YALL MMMWAH : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane @muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf

#click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x black!reader #black!oc #black!reader #works 𖧧࣪#lesbian

1K notes · View notes

steddieasitgoes · 6 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 20 Prompt: Sick Day

Tags: Established Relationship, Mentions Of Past Parental Loss, Eddie Munson Needs A Hug, Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 1290 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve doesn’t get it.

He’s seen Eddie in worse shape.

Death knocking on his door, tubes, and machines keeping him alive. In spite of the shitty cards he was dealt, he always had a smile on his face — cracking jokes with the kids, charming his way into extra pudding cups and sides of mashed potatoes. Steve’s pretty sure they mourned the day he was finally released because he had a way of making even the crabbiest doctors smile.

If ever there was a time to be miserable and wallow in the pain it was then.

And yet, a winter cold has managed to knock Eddie on his ass, turning him into the most miserable, helpless version of himself.

Steve hates it.

Not because Eddie is whiney and dramatic (he’s both of those things on a good day), but because he doesn’t know what to do to help.

Days and nights blend together as Eddie stays sheltered in his bedroom. His bed is a nest of blankets and pillows — half the time he’s burrowed under them, no doubt making his fever worse, and the other half he’s propped up on pillows, desperately hoping the elevated position will ease his cough. A hoard of half-empty bowls of soups and napkins full of nibbled-on crackers are scattered on his nightstand along with the cold medicine Wayne picked up three (maybe, four?) days ago. The one Eddie refuses to take because it makes him feel worse.

His usual unruly curls are flattening by the second and his cheek has a near-permanent indentation of his wrinkled pillowcase at this point. If it weren’t for his frequent trips to the bathroom, Steve would be worried about muscle loss and blood clots on top of the hundred other ways he’s worrying about Eddie right now.

Steve’s tried everything. His grandmother’s chicken noodle soup, coaxing Eddie into a warm shower, even phoned Ms. Henderson to see if she had any home remedies he wasn’t thinking of. Nothing seems to be working.

At a loss, Steve tiptoes into Eddie’s room hoping to find him sleeping beneath the covers.

He’s not.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve coos. Toeing his shoes off, he pads his way over to the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the corner of the bed in search of Eddie’s legs. When he’s certain they’re not there, he sits. “What can I do to help?”

Eddie groans and presses the right side of his face deeper into the pillow. A single tear races down his cheek as he sniffles. “Could you just lie with me?” he croaks, voice horse from lack of use and the sore throat he’s been fighting for the last few days.

“Course, baby. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer and instead shuffles up the bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he kicks out his legs over the hoard of blankets and lets himself sink into the warm mattress. Once he’s situated, Eddie shifts until his back is pressed against Steve’s side. It’s weird feeling the heat that radiates from his body — he’s usually the one with cold hands and feet in the relationship.

“Didn’t want to get you sick,” Eddie mumbles eventually.

“Don’t mind getting sick, if it means you’ll feel better.” Steve means it. He would shoulder all the sickness and pain in the world if it meant that Eddie and everyone else he loves never had to feel anything but happy and healthy. If only the world worked like that. “Do you need anything?”

It’s silent in the room as Steve waits for Eddie’s response. So quiet, Steve wonders if maybe Eddie’s drifted to sleep and he’s waiting for a response that’s never going to come. But then Eddie shifts beside him, slowly rolling onto his other side so he can face him.

“I need my mom,” Eddie whispers just as the floodgates open, tear after tear falling from his eyes in that slow dramatic way they only do in movies. At least, Steve thought it only happened in movies.

His heart seizes in his chest as Eddie reaches for the soft sweater he’s wearing. Doesn’t complain when he buries his face into it, staining it with tears and snot and whatever else as Eddie’s body shakes under the weight of his tears.

Christ.

He doesn’t get it, not entirely. His own mother was never the nurturing type — she’d slap down medicine on his bedside table and leave a list of places she’d be if he needed to reach her, but that was it. Never once did she rest her hand against his forehead to check his temperature, let alone sit at his bedside.

But he knows Eddie’s mom would have done those things. Probably did do all those things judging by the way his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms right now.

Admittedly he doesn’t know much about Ms. Munson — he’s gathered it's hard for Eddie to talk about her. But he knows enough to know the world lost an incredibly kind soul way too early.

“Eds,” Steve sighs, scooting down until he’s lying down with Eddie firmly curled up on his chest. He gets both arms around him, squeezing him tighter. “I wish I could.”

“She always—” Eddie hiccups, wincing as the motion burns his already aching throat. “She always used to lie down with me. Run her fingers through my hair until her ring got caught in my curls. Then she’d move to tracing up and down my arm.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He lets one hand drift into Eddie’s tangled curls, scratching his scalp before gently carding his fingers through a few strands. His other hand ghosts up and down his arm, goosebumps erupting in his featherlight touches wake.

“Like this?”

Eddie melts under the contact, nuzzling deeper into the warmth of Steve’s sweater. “She made the best grilled cheese sandwich when I was sick. And she’d cut them in weird ways. Let me eat them in bed while she told some story she made up on the spot.”

“Well, m’no storyteller. But I can make a grilled cheese. Probably not as good as your mom's though.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he looks up. “She had a secret ingredient she never told me.”

“Bet it was love.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, shaking his head, “That’s lame.”

“Yeah, it is. She wouldn’t have had a lame secret ingredient.”

“She was the best,” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before they flutter open again. This time he wiggles out of Steve’s embrace and moves his head back to his pillow before grimacing at the wet stain left behind on Steve’s sweater. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Eds. S’just a sweater.”

“I know. I just…” he groans and rubs circles over his eyes with his fists. “I always miss her more when m’sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, pulling at him until Eddie’s back on his chest and his hand is back in his curls. “You can tell me about her, you know? Whenever you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

“Maybe when my throat doesn’t burn like Satan’s living room.”

Steve laughs.

There’s his boy.

“You know, that medicine over there might help with that,” Steve teases, gesturing to the untouched medicine.

Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust, shaking his head.

“Alright, you big baby,” Steve chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep then?”

“Will you stay?” Eddie asks, already fighting sleep judging by his fluttering eyelashes.

“Course I’ll stay,” he whispers. “I’ll even make you a grilled cheese when you wake up.”

“Full of love?”

“Yeah, Eds. Full of love.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

384 notes · View notes

nnk1911 · 18 days

Text

Ways to hug your lover

A warm hug and a goodbye kiss you both give to each other when leaving the house in the morning.

When he is sitting on the couch, reading a book you recommended or watching his favorite films on TV, you will crawl onto his lap, snuggling with him, only to meet his fond gazes and receive a gentle pat on your head.

On a relaxing Saturday night, you both lie comfortably on the bed, legs tangled together. You will talk to him about everything or nothing, just enjoy being with him. And vice versa, he will ramble about his day while playing with your hair or just hold you close to him, drowning in your essence.

When you’re sleeping, he will always try to find a way to get closer to you than he is, like tightening the hold on your waist, burying his head deeper into the crook of your neck, and never leaving your hands.

Yuta is a light sleeper, so if you wake up and go out of bed to go to the bathroom or drink water during the night, when you return, you’ll see him already awake, pouting because you’ve left him alone, and once you place yourself on the mattress, he’ll hug you incredibly tight.

When you come home exhausted from the long day, he’ll pepper your face with kisses while slowly guiding you to your shared room, where he has prepared an appetizing meal.

Or when he’s running out of energy from harsh missions, you’ll gently stroke his back back and forth and murmur sweet nothing to his ears, praising him for always trying to protect other people, giving him the comfort he deserves.

You love every chance to touch Yuta, but the hugs you give him when he leaves for abroad missions are always your distaste. The hugs that neither you nor he wants to release, you both pull your lover slightly only to strengthen the hold on each other.

And when he comes back after months, you’ll find him standing in the middle of the crowd, outstretching his arms for you to jump right into his embrace. All you can feel is his unique fragrance, his soft voice, his fast heartbeat, everything about him that you’ve dreamed of, have craved for.

About Yuta? What can make him happier than hugging his angle after months of distancing? It’s like he’s holding a piece of heaven and you’re right in his arms, he would never get enough of your tender yet firm embrace, your sweet-like honey giggles, your passionate kisses, he would never get enough of you, all of you.

On a winter day, you’ll sit restfully in his lap while he covers both of you in a warm, cozy blanket, you two spend time doing whatever you like.

Or on a peaceful morning, your room is filled with a warm, golden glow of sunlight, you cling onto Yuta and groan “Five more minutes” when he tries to wake you up. He then only sighs and lets you sleep for “five minutes” the nth time, fondly stroking your hair and pressing pecks to your forehead.

He always knows when you’re upset, frustrated, or silently crying. At that time, he’ll hold you close to his chest, kissing away your tears, giving you constant reassurance that he’ll be here with you forever, helping you overcome your sadness.

This is my daydream about some intimate moments shared with Yuta, my remedy for the tragedy from recent chapters. Yuta my beloved, you deserve all the best 😭😭😭

#okkotsu yuta #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x you #okkotsu yuuta fluff #yuuta fluff #yuta fluff #yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu yuta #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x y/n #okkotsu yuta fluff

97 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 6 months

Note

Navy how's our lumber snack doing with Christmas around the corner? Are they snuggled up by the fire with hot cocoa?

That's exactly what he's doing, nonnie!

By the Fireplace

Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve is exactly where he needs to be. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Fluff, Steve experiencing peace, established relationship, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Tiny ficlet for Beefcake and Tippy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The fireplace glowed with radiant flames as Steve took a seat on the floor beside you. He had added a couple of logs before he made the hot chocolate, the sweet scent of the warm beverage drifting to his nostrils before he took a sip. Soft music filled the air and he couldn’t help but smile when he caught you humming along. Like him, you didn’t want anything over-the-top for the holidays.

Just the pleasure of being with each other was more than enough.

“Don’t worry. I won’t damage your ears by singing,” you teased as you stretched a blanket over the two of you to share.

He chuckled as he wrapped a pair of strong arms around you. “It would take a lot more than your singing to damage my ears,” he teased back, brushing his beard along your cheek to make you giggle, the sound soft and pleasant. “So sing as much as you’d like.”

“I think I’ll just stick to writing,” you smiled, leaning into him with a gentle sigh. “Steve?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You didn’t say anything right away, but you did place a hand over his. “This is enough for you, right? This life?”

“It’s more than enough,” he answered without hesitation, hoping he hadn’t done or said something to make you think otherwise. He loved the home and life the two of you made together. If he did something to make you think otherwise, he’d have to remedy that immediately.

“Are you sure? There isn’t a small part of you that wishes you were fighting tonight?” You asked, tilting your head so you could stare into his eyes.

You once told Steve that you liked looking into people’s eyes because they always told the truth when some often weaved lies with their words. You chose to listen to the unspoken gazes. The eyes also conveyed so much emotion, the very windows to the soul because you could see right through them.

And he had nothing to hide from you.

He understood why you asked though. Deep down he was still the man of action who couldn’t turn a blind eye when things pointed south. But you were the one of the reasons he still occasionally fought. He had a home to defend and someone to come back to. Something to fight for.

You were his home.

“No. Not tonight,” he replied with an unwavering tone and stare so you’d know how serious he was. “This is exactly where I’m meant to be. Right by our fireplace with hot chocolate nearby and you in my arms.”

With soft eyes full of love, you brought your lips to his. It ignited a flame inside him almost as warm and bright as the crackling fire feet away. The pieces of his heart that he struggled to put together after the ice connected the moment the two of you met. You were his glue and strength.

And like the winter holiday encouraged, he felt a sense of love and peace by being in the moment.

Just like Bucky, Steve deserves peace, too. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

210 notes · View notes

tkaulitzlvr · 6 months

Note

TOM AND Y/N SHOWER FLUFF PLEASE I BEG YOU

SELFCARE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after a stressful week at work, tom notices that you aren’t yourself. to help you loosen up, he decides to take care of you and give you even more princess treatment than usual, setting up a self-care night when you come home more stressed than usual.

content: fluff

a/n: tkaulitzlvr actually posting an imagine can u believe it😱😱😱 this was requested a while ago, but it lost the poll i put up a few weeks ago and since then it’s been in my inbox pretty often, so here u go! this is my first time writing since i last posted so i’m sorry if this is shitty😭

“another tough day schatz?” his voice is soft, bordering almost sympathetic as he runs his hands through my hair, arms wrapped securely around my upper back, staying that way from the second i had melted into them, doing so as soon as my tired feet trudged their way through the front door. this had become habitual over the past couple weeks, my job becoming particularly demanding with the annual roll around of christmas, my already packed schedule more hectic than ever, my happiness the cost of the overwhelming chaos that festivities inevitably brought along - the customers seeming to pour in faster than i could comprehend. though today, work had been almost too stressful, leaving me a lethargic mess, unable to do anything besides wrap my arms loosely around tom’s frame as he greets me with soft kisses, attempting to ease the stress that weights heavily on my shoulders, even if it is just a little bit.

“mhm.” i mumble, burying my head further into his chest, sighing loudly and allowing my eyes to flutter closed, already feeling at ease from the simple remedy of his touch.

he hums sympathetically in response, tightening the grip of his arms around my back, his lips pressing onto my forehead as a comfortable silence envelops us. his hands trail upward, moving tentatively under my thick jumper, the warmth of the knitted material replaced with the soft touch of his fingers as the pads trail across the skin of my back, tracing random patterns and allowing me to drown everything else out of my surroundings, tuning into only on the movements of his fingertips.

after a few minutes spent wrapped in his arms, he slowly moves away, though any doubts of him ending the tender moment are soon put to bed when his hands move upward, cupping my face in his palms and moving it closer. his lips are placed onto mine, their touch so gentle, so soft that my heart tugs at its strings, the stress that had weighed me down all week seeming to melt away. he pulls away every few seconds, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth, that same cocky smile on his face, though it doesn’t last long as he closes the gap between us once again. this time, his arms wrap around my waist, pulling my body flush against his as he begins to sway side to side. his fingers dig into the flesh of my hips, chuckling into the kiss when i jump slightly.

“i love you.” he mumbles against my lips when he finally pulls away, breathless and flustered, his cheeks a light shade of red as his now swollen lips mirror my own. he doesn’t wait for my response, a slight smile gracing his expression as he opens his mouth to continue. “how about i help you relax? we can shower and then put on one of your favourite movies, i’ll even order takeout. how does that sound schatz?”

when my lips curve into a soft smile he already knows the answer, moving closer once again and kissing my cheek. his hands find their way to my heavy winter coat, reaching to pull it off of my frame as i look upward at him in confusion.

“you’re exhausted honey. let me do this for you, okay?”

i don’t object, nodding my head silently and standing still as he gently removes my arms from the sleeves, walking away momentarily to hang the coat with the rest of the clothes beside the front door. he comes up behind me, quickly lifting me upward into his arms before i can object.

“what are you doing?” i giggle, patting his back whilst small chuckles escape my lips, legs flailing around as his arms remain tightly around my waist. he places me gently on the couch, flashing me a soft smile before bending down in front of me. i giggle in disbelief when he reaches for my boots, slowly undoing the buckle.

“baby i’m tired not incapable. you don’t have to take my shoes off for me.” i shake my head slowly, laughing quietly to myself as he looks up, making eye contact with me.

“but i want to. let me take care of you.” his voice is slow, though the movements of his hands as they remove my shoes are even slower, bordering too careful, tugging the zippers on each foot downward gently. one hand moves to the heel, the other placing itself at the front of my shoe as he pulls it off, setting it on the floor and moving to my other shoe, until they are both off of my sore feet.

he clears his throat, moving his body upward so that it hovers above my own. he kisses my lips briefly, smiling into it and pecking them a few more times. “let’s go shower yeah?”

he scoops me into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapping around his torso as i bury my head into his neck, the familiar scent of vanilla and cigarettes calming my mind. his fingers tap against my thighs in a random pattern, arms hoisting me further upward whenever i would slip out of his embrace. my eyes only open when i feel my position change, realising that tom has set me down on the bathroom counter, the marble cold against my skin despite the denim that covers my lower half. he mutters a quick ‘i’ll be right back’, before disappearing out of the bathroom, leaving me alone momentarily. the silence is peaceful - a clear contrast from the chaos i had been unwillingly part of all day. it is strange for things to be so quiet, without the annoying and far too frequent complains of a customer, or the constant sound of christmas music blasting around the store. but it is nice, and my entire body relaxes at the lack of noise until tom reappears, holding some fresh pyjamas, a random array of unlit candles placed on top of them.

he places them next to me, turning away and messing with the shower until hot water begins to pour from it. he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a lighter and setting the candles upright. his fingers flick the light switch off, small orange flames casting their brightness around the now dim bathroom. his eyes meet mine, gaze staying locked on mine as he walks over, his fingers finding their way to the hem of my jumper.

“can i take this off schatz?” he asks, smiling weakly when i nod my head. he lifts the material upward slowly, dropping it to the floor and studying my upper body. he moves his attention to my bra, looking into my eyes once again, waiting for that permission he had sought moments ago. i mutter a quiet ‘yes’, his fingers pulling the clasps undone. knowing better than to make the moment sexual, his gaze lingers only briefly as he appears to snap out of it, mumbling a quick ‘so beautiful’ before removing my jeans, letting them pool at my feet. i stand up, removing my panties myself whilst he turns to his own clothing.

“wait.” i say, his head turning to face me. he stops his movements when he is just about to remove his shirt, watching as my hands move his own away, my fingers clasping around the soft material as i lift it over his head, revealing his upper body, adorned with rigid muscle and soft skin, something which still makes my stomach swarm with butterflies - no matter how many times my eyes land on the sight. he grins softly, planting a sweet kiss in my hair before pulling his own jeans down, his boxers quickly following.

i enter the shower, the warm water quickly easing the tension that had habituated around my body, my eyes shutting at the satisfaction. i feel tom’s presence behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist slowly. his head dips just below my ear, lips ghosting over the skin until they eventually make contact, placing slow and messy kisses there, my head falling backward as i make no attempt to stop him.

“you okay baby?” he whispers lowly against me, pulling his head out of my shoulder, turning my body around so that i am now facing him, his frame considerably taller than my own, his head looking downward whilst my own neck bends upward to look into his eyes.

“mhm.” i offer him a weak smile, watching as he reaches behind me, grabbing the shampoo from the small shelf.

his hand places itself on my shoulder, applying a little pressure. “turn around schatz.” he whispers, twisting my body so that my back now faces him. i take a guess at what he is doing, my prediction confirmed as correct when i hear him open the bottle from behind me, squeezing some shampoo into his hands. he lathers it up for a few seconds before his fingers thread into my wet hair, massaging the suds deep into my scalp. i sigh in relief, head falling backward slightly at the feeling. his fingers move deeper, leaving no part untouched, the bubbles now coating my entire head. once satisfied, he reaches for the shower head, testing the temperature before moving it so that the water falls directly onto my hair.

“close your eyes honey.” he says, moving the stream of water as the suds run down the front of my face. his hands still run through my hair, taking real care to make sure that the shampoo is completely washed out. he grabs the conditioner, rubbing it softly on the ends of my hair, rinsing the remainder under the water.

he lathers some soap in his hands whilst my conditioner soaks in, turning my body around so that i am facing him once again. he starts at my shoulders, covering them in the soapy suds, then trailing down to my arms, hands, stomach, waist, back. a playful smile tugs at his lips when he reaches my breasts, touching them a little - in fact way more than he needed to. his hands cup them firmly, thumbs swirling over my nipples as he looks into my eyes. i shake my head playfully, though i don’t have it in me to tell him to stop, allowing his hands to work on my breasts.

“just making sure they’re clean.” he confirms, letting a soft laugh escape from his lips. his hands detach from them after a few minutes, moving to rest on my ass. though when his face nears my own, i soon realise that this is no longer about ‘making sure that i am clean.’ he walks backward slightly until our bodies are submerged under the stream of water, pressing his lips to my own. the kiss is different this time. it is firmer, rougher, playing dangerously on the line between loving and lustful. his tongue slips into my mouth, hands kneading my ass as he pushes his body further into mine, the feeling of something hard between my thighs snapping me out of the moment.

i look downward, stifling a laugh once i pick up on tom’s problem. “and here i was thinking this shower was for you to take care of me.” i sigh, shaking my head and laughing quietly.

“you’re naked in front of me. i can’t help it baby, i swear.” he jokes, his hands resting on my lower back as he pecks my lips lovingly a few times. “don’t worry, we don’t have to do anything. this is your night, and i’m gonna take care of you, just like i said i would.”

my heart warms at his words, arms reaching to wrap around his torso as i pull him into a hug. he is taken aback, but quickly hugs back, his hands resting on my back as his thumbs run up and down it.

“i love you.” i mumble, face flush against his chest.

“i love you more schatz, always.” he replies, resting his chin on my head, the room now silent besides from the sound of water pouring from the shower head. “c’mon let’s finish up then you can pick a movie, whatever you like.”

i nod my head, about to wash the conditioner on my hair out myself, though tom beats me to it, running the hot water through my hair until it is completely clean. he steps out first, reaching his hand out for me to take, grabbing a towel as i exit the shower. he starts with my hair, squeezing the excess water out of it, before moving the towel down my body, removing the small droplets that rest on my skin. the time he spends focusing on himself is next to nothing - he briefly drew himself off and slips on some grey sweatpants, running a towel on his braids for a few seconds.

“lift your arms up.” he says, grabbing the pyjamas that he had brought in earlier, placing the oversized t-shirt (he knew instinctively to pick one of his out - remembering that i would much rather wear his clothes than my own) over my frame, tugging the baggy sweatpants up and over my legs.

i mutter a quick ‘thank you’, exiting the bathroom and flopping onto the bed, body sinking into the fresh sheets. tom follows a few seconds later, chuckling at my state when he enters the bedroom. he walks over slowly, picking me up and climbing under the covers, only letting me go to place my body on top of his own, legs intertwined, my chest flat against his own. he reaches for the remote that sits on our bedside table, handing it over to me.

“it’s all yours.” he smiles, watching as i gladly take it, shifting my position so that i can see the large tv directly opposite our bed. though this subtle change clearly separates the distance between tom and i too much, his arms reaching to wrap tightly around my waist, my own resting on his torso, head snuggling into his chest as i flick the tv on, the screen quickly lighting up.

“thank you for taking care of me.” i mumble against him, snuggling further into his embrace. i feel him smile against me, hand giving my waist a soft squeeze.

“of course. it’s my job baby, you know i’d do it a thousand times over.” he places a kiss into my hair, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. “all i want is for you to be happy. you know i’ll do anything to make sure that you are, right?”

i nod weakly, eyes landing on the movie that i want to watch, knowing that tom won’t be as thrilled as i am. “does that include watching the notebook?” i peer upwards at him, studying the way his face falls momentarily, a loud groan escaping his lips, knowing just how much he completely despises this movie.

“now that crosses the line.” he jokes, a playful smile now on his face. “you really sure you want to watch this? out of every movie?” he knows that attempting to change my mind is pointless, though any small chance of getting out of this is something that he will take. but when i nod my head slowly, he realises that it is no use.

“i’m just kidding. anything you want schatz. it’s your night.”

i kiss his cheek repeatedly amidst mumbling rushed and almost inaudible ‘thankyou’s, the smile on his face only growing wider and wider as he places his hand on my back, shaking his head once i return to how i had been sat before, my head resting on his chest. the movie begins to play, tom’s thumb rubbing soft circles on my skin, the feeling of his eyes burning into me providing a clear distraction.

“stop staring.” i whisper, hitting his chest lightly. “watch the movie tom.”

“sorry.” he mumbles, returning his attention to the screen, though i sense his gaze on me throughout, not having the energy or heart to stop him, instead letting him get away with the not so subtle glances that he sends my way, deciding to give him the false hope that he is being discreet.

eventually, his breathing becomes slower and deeper, body no longer shifting as it had done for the past thirty minutes. i turn around, seeing his eyes closed, mouth slightly parted with quiet snores escaping from it as his chest moves up and down, arms still holding me tightly in their embrace. i turn the tv off, pulling the covers over both of us and placing my leg over his, fingers tracing random shapes onto his chest as i feel my own eyes becoming heavy. just as i am about to fall into a slumber, tom begins to stir in his sleep, bringing my body even closer so that it now rests on top of his own. his eyes remain closed, still on the verge of sleep as his mouth opens slowly, voice low and groggy. “i love you schatz, goodnight.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tomkaulitz #tokiohotel #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #bill kaulitz

183 notes · View notes

crypticandmachiavellianaugustine · 6 months

Text

Sweet Nothings (Part One)

Part Two

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: Y/N is a lesser fae who is spending her life wandering around different Courts, everything changes when she ends up in Autumn and by accident meets the new High Lord.

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, lots of self doubt, mentions of dog attack? (not really the smoke hounds are good puppies who look terrifying)

English is not my language so I deeply apologise for any eventual mistake also sorry if it sucks, I reread it while tired.

_______

One day, when she was only a curious child, Y/N had found her nemesis in a bush of wild raspberries. It was the time of dreams and fireflies who, in her mind of little girl, plausibly lived inside thorny loops of greenery with delicious berries peaking from behind the leaves. But the fireflies were not pleased to find a young thief at their front door and that was the day Y/N got her first and only scar, a thin white line on one of her legs as a reminder to not walk through literal thorns too carelessly.

As an adult, Y/N had made it an habit to plant raspberries and roses in every place she had ever lived. She was a lesser fae, and despite everything, that meant a very long life. And she was part mortal, with no other choice than to live in the outskirts of every society she encountered in Prythian, destined to shine briefly for her talents but be quickly disposed of, when those around her could scent the doomed outcast in her.

Born in Winter she had wandered to Summer and from there she had thrown herself into the unknown, as the fates intended. She had lived a hundred lives, voraciously trying to fill her loneliness, learning new things all the time. No matter how much life humbled her, or how miserable she was sometimes. Today she was a patissier at the Court of Autumn, but in the past she had been a maid in Winter, secretly learning a language spoken in a remote mortal land under the light of a candle when the household she was working in was asleep. Silently, in the coldest hours of the night she had fought to stay awake and do something with herself that was different from scrubbing the floors of that old manor.

A century after that, she had been almost a beggar in the lands of Dawn, the witch that lived as an hermit and used every plant she found to create oils and fragrances and remedies, trying to match every smell with a specific feeling or memory.

Doing something other than what was expected from someone of her stance had been what had kept her alive for so long, what had kept her sane when all of her hopes were digging themselves deep into the ground of a place that was not her home.

And a home was the one thing that Y/N had never really known. She had lived in plenty of places, but in her mind a malicious sentence echoed constantly, 'the point of a home is to have somewhere to always return to'.

Her dreams, her hopes, her passions... Those were the things that made her feel like an individual and not like the lowly being she had often been treated like.

For many long years, books had been her only friends, the only comfort afforded to her by the world. And in dusty books from the mortal lands, wastepaper in Prythian, she had decided than one day she would live an autumn like the ones described in those stained pages. But the Autumn Court had been avoided like the plague by Y/N in her constant wandering, too many stories of cruelty had came out of that place for her to be courageous enough to dare enter that territory.

Months before, when she was still in the Day Court, working in one of the countless libraries, she had heard whisperings of the passing of the old High Lord of Autumn who apparently had died under mysterious circumstances. She decided to move to a closer court and observe Autumn, but once she had catched a glimpse of the rust coloured tree leaves in the distance she knew that it would not take too long before her curiosity consumed her caution.

Y/N lived in the frost covered land of Winter for three weeks before leaving the court she had been born in centuries before, to pry into a forest that reminded her of a particularly bright sunset.

A month later, Y/N still had no idea on how a simple walk into a forest turned into her working at the most important palace of Autumn. Actually she knew exactly how it had happened but the chain of events had been so confusionary to live that she preferred not to think too much about it.

It all started when she got lost, too mesmerised by the warm colours surrounding her to carefully stay close to the border of Winter. And it progressively got stranger when Y/N realised with horror that she was walking on a trail that ended in a village. Certainly a picturesque place she thought before trying to put some distance between her and the cabins without being noticed, failing so miserably that she pondered hiding in a cave and have another few almost hermitic decades.

Before she could manage to build up a convincing lie about places she was trying urgently to reach, she had found herself sitting for dinner in a real house as a guest of an extremely chatty family, ordered to sit by a matron that was as welcoming as she was intimidating. And after a week, awkwardly relishing the kindness of the villagers like a wild cat being fed for the first time, Y/N's first real attempt at socialising had been preparing delicious sweets for everyone who had been nice to her. She always stubbornly downplayed her talents, flaunting made her anxious and obsessed about everything that could go wrong. It all started with simple biscuits, buttery and spiced, served with warm goat milk to her hosts for breakfast. Continued with a plate of swirling pastel pink meringues and a strawberry marmalade cake, to an old widow that had tailored and gifted her a delicate dress decorated with numerous embroidered tiny lilac flowers, one of her favourites from when she had been young. Then she baked an earthy weat cake with chestnut cream for a very old fae who allowed her to use his personal library. After weeks of joyful carrot muffins, candied citrus fruits given away to the few younglings of the village at every occasion, and a sustained sequence of birthday cakes, her new ephemeral normalcy was shattered by the visit of some relatives of the family that had welcomed her the first time she had stumbled into that small settlement.

The lady of the house who had treated Y/N almost like a daughter had a brother who knew someone who worked in the kitchens of the Forest House and he swore that he could find a place as an assistant patissier for the maker of the cherry cake he was enjoying, cake that Y/N had baked that day, realising that the small house was fervently preparing for a special dinner.

'Forest House, what a stupid name for a palace' she thought, of course she would leave, the last thing she wanted was to be a burden for her hosts. Even if she had enjoyed her time in the village she was ready to leave, she would go back one day, she knew it.

Y/N had learned the hard way not to fuss over the past and not to get too attached to anything she met in her eternal wandering. She often found herself thinking that her life flowed just like water, unforgiving and unemotional warden of memories that were never allowed to get back to the shore.

She whispered her goodbyes into the morning mist and left without looking back.

To fall into a routine while working in the kitchens had been surprisingly easy. Just as easy and unexpected it had been starting to work there, Y/N had been quickly pushed into the role of one of the main patissiers by a small and nervous male who had declared himself too old to bother with the frills of the fine patisserie that was expected to come out of the kitchens of the Forest House.

Y/N found it almost relaxing, to work unbothered in her corner. Baking, preparing, assembling and decorating her various creations, had become the actions that paced her days. The chatter, the clashing of pots and the crackling of the fire were all background noises that kept her mind silent, free to focus on her job.

She rarely left the staff quarters, and when she did, it was to sneak into the gardens and explore them furtively, even if no one was ever there to enjoy them anyway.

Most of her free time was spent with the cats that lived of the kitchen's leftovers, she had realised with delight that the small feral creatures somehow enjoyed the soft singing that sometimes came out of her mouth when she was alone or too distracted.

As an outsider she felt shy when talking with her colleagues, and they had all run out of conversation points rather quickly. All they ever talked about was work, the new elusive High Lord that everyone was wary of and every scandal the nobles caused on a weekly basis. Y/N was not too interested in any of that, after all she did not know any of those people. She strongly suspected to have catched a glimpse of the new High Lord during one of her secret explorations of the gardens, when she had noticed a crowned head move away from one of the windows, in a confusionary mirage of auburn hair and an aura of arrogance. Her visits to the gardens had decreased drastically after that occurrence. Better careful than caught.

One night she decided to sneak into the gardens again, the day had been an almost nightmare and she needed to get away from the kitchens for a little while. It had been a busy day, lords from all over the Court were visiting the Forest House and the kitchens felt like a gigantic furnace. Y/N had been forced to take refuge in the ice cellar to finish up all of the desserts she was preparing to avoid them melting miserably in the torrid chaos. All of her cat friends had avoided the kitchens the whole day, frightened by the deafening sounds and strong smells.

Y/N threw herself on a bed of dense moss, breathing in deeply the scent of alyssum that permeated in that hidden spot of the gardens. She got up with a huff and started walking, falling asleep there would be a terrible idea. She took a new route, one that she had usually avoided during her past secret explorations, she felt bolder hidden by the darkness of the night. The unexplored part of the gardens was near the orangery and the large path in front of it was not covered by trees like the rest. Y/N gently slid her fingers over a fragrant line of muguets before stopping in front of the pot of an majestic orchid that had definitely seen better days, she hid the plant in a corner that was a little more bit sheltered from the crisp autumnal wind.

Y/N continued to walk until she reached an enormous and elaborate fountain. It was one of her favourites parts of the gardens, the intricate metal fence that surrounded it was rusty and the fountain itself was so vast that a small island had been placed at its center, the statues on it were covered with moss. Water came out of small statuettes of all around the perimeter but must of it was coming out of the island, the sound of it difficult to ignore. It was like something out of a book, a forgotten wonder in an abandoned garden. A group of ducks lived there and Y/N liked to gather berries from nearby bushes and feed the adorable animals. She could see them, despite the darkness, smoothly swimming towards her. She quickly picked a handful of blueberries and threw them in the water, her gesture met with a few happy quacking sounds.

Y/N smiled to herself and started to head in direction of the kitchens, hoping to sneak in her little room without awakening any of her colleagues. The night was silent and hearing a rustle behind her made her stop in her tracks petrified, she slowly turned around just in time for a monstrous beast to jump on her and make her fall onto the ground with a terrified screech. The beast, that she realised was a dog, was blocking her with its paws painfully pressed into her ribs, sniffing her face. Y/N wanted to scream loudly and desperately, but she held it back and tried to stay still, hoping that the dog would lose interest in her. Tears were running down her face and usually she wasn't one for praying, but in her mind she begged the Mother to save her from a fate as horrible as dying mauled by the jaws of that animal. It was licking her face, cruelly preparing to take the first bite...

"Let the little bunny go, Willow," said a male voice, good-naturedly scolding the dog. Y/N started sobbing when the monster- Willow- finally allowed her to breathe. The gigantic dog lowered her head to the ground and looked at the crying girl, Y/N could swear that she saw worry in those eyes and Willow tentatively licked her face, whining in a comically apologetic way for a hound so terrifying.

Strong arms grabbed her and pulled her up, in between tears she found herself looking at a tall male, clearly one of the nobles. It took her a few moments to connect the dots, the auburn hair and the hound, she could make out the dark shapes of more of them in the distance, his impeccable clothes and the slightly haughty expression... Y/N was almost sure that she was in front of the Hight Lord, and if the one scrutinising her in that moment was not him, he was probably one of his brothers.

Realising that she had been caught in the gardens she made a curtsy, trying to contain her trembling of fear from everything that was happening. He clicked his tongue, and Y/N held her breath terrified, she had annoyed him even more.

But instead of immediately reprimanding her or worse, he tilted her head up. There was a surprising gentleness in his gesture that clashed with the impassive expression on his face, his eyes on the other hand carried a glint of arrogance and amusement in them.

"Don't worry, little bunny, none of us bites without a good reason," he said, almost as if he was making fun of her. Then he produced a handkerchief and handed it to her, Y/N could not dare to accept it, she didn't want to stain the white and soft looking fabric with the mud that had dirtied her hands after his hound had made her fall. He rolled his eyes with an attitude that in a clearer state of mind she would have found infuriating and, still with that strange gentleness, he wiped her tears off. Y/N almost jumped back, embarrassed.

"Does the little bunny have a name?" He asked. Y/N was starting to get mildly annoyed with his attitude, he was talking to her as if she actually was a wild frightened creature of the woods.

She told him her name in a timid whisper and he repeated it, her name sounding almost comforting in his mouth. Y/N tried to put on a mask of composure.

"I deeply apologise, my lord. I should not be here and..." she said quickly and agitated before he interrupted her by putting a finger on her lips.

"Call me Eris," he said not looking at her and going to damp the handkerchief under the spilling water of one of the small fountain statuettes near them.

Y/N went pale, so he was the High Lord. He started cautiously cleaning her hands, making sure that she didn't hurt herself falling.

"I can do this on my own. You shouldn't bother yourself with me, my lord" she whispered but he ignored her, except for an annoyed look when she insisted in not calling him by his name.

"You don't feel it yet, don't you?" asked Eris frowning and observing her carefully. Y/N looked at him interrogatively. Then suddenly it all became clear and the realisation took her breath away. In a moment something snapped in between them and a single thread of gold tied their souls together. In the past she had tried to imagine what a mating bond could feel like but the reality of it was completely different from every single daydream she had secretly indulged in. The sheer and raw sense of belonging was something unexpected, it was as if the nostalgia that she often felt inside of her heart had been finally placated.

She would have fallen to the ground again if he didn't catch her, holding her in his arms almost with reverence.

"Never again you will fall" murmured Eris "I won't allow it".

"That is an unpractical intention" she replied. Uncertainty was rumbling in her mind, she wanted to run, to hide far away and disappear, to live like a wild animal in the forest and forget everything about all of this. He was her mate and a stranger, their lives were not supposed to touch, they were not supposed to meet, let alone being bound together by a superior force.

Y/N felt ashamed suddenly, she was being weak by allowing him to be close, to hold her up when she was supposed to ruinously fall. Someone of his stance would never accept to be shackled to a lesser fae, she did not want to delude herself into heartbreak and rejection. Maybe he was being polite for pity or for some perverse game, was she a rabbit about to fall into the jaws a fox?

She hastily put some distance between them, in that moment she really wished to have the ability to winnow.

Eris had a hurt look in his eyes when she backed away, it lasted a second before he composed himself once again and started speaking calmly, as if he knew of her intentions and he wanted to keep her from running like a frightened wild bunny.

"I have no intention to hurt you. I merely plead you to allow me to take care of you and to protect you, others may try to harm you for this bond between us. It is your choice to accept it or not but I would like to clarify that, for me, you are a miracle I never dared to hope in".

"You don't know me, don't use words you will regret," said Y/N, her face a mask of cold nonchalance that she sometimes used to protect herself with. But he simply smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Please," he whispered, in a vulnerable manner that made Y/N raise her brows with scepticism. How could she surrender to the unknown?

Y/N was standing in front of her mirror, doubtfully studying her reflection. Three months had passed since the night in the garden.

Two months of tedious hours with a dozen seamstresses who had been tasked to create a wardrobe for her that was worthy of the High Lord's mate. Three months of eating almost every meal with Eris and spending time in his office or in the gardens together. Three months of trying to fill her days with literature and other pastimes to keep her mind from thinking too intensely about the uncertainty of her future.

When she had accepted to be moved to another, more suitable, room for her security-excuse quickly added by Eris just when she was about to start protesting- she had insisted for her new room to be as simple as possible and she was sure that her mate had not taken that request into consideration in the slightest.

Her room was spacious and sumptuously decorated, the windows were tall, some of them partly made of intricate stained glass art, and there was even a terrace.

Y/N continued to stand in front of the large mirror, trying to find a way to make her hair presentable. She knew that she could never match the sophisticated looks of the ladies she had seen at court, wives and daughters of advisers and courtiers with intricate hairstyles and the behaviour of someone who belonged there in the Forest House. She had started to be almost ashamed of how her hair only reached her shoulders, she had used to love how the delicate waves framed her face and how comfortable keeping them at that length was, but at court she felt like a fish out of water. Shortly after the first dresses had been completed and started to be placed in her room, jewelry appeared as well and Y/N had refrained from wearing it. The jewels were magnificent more that anything she had seen before, she debated if the mating bond had somehow made Eris aware of the things that she would like when emeralds and dark amethysts, baroque pearls and aquamarines had started to appear. She huffed exasperated and took an elaborate pair of gold earrings with rose-coloured pearls, they matched her dress and hopefully counterbalanced the simplicity of her hair.

She picked up one of the cats that had mastered enough bravery to go find her deep into the labyrinth that was the palace when she had disappeared from the kitchens. She had tried to dissuade them from playing with the canopy of her bed but the finely embroidered fabric beared the signs of their mischievous claws. Willow had also found her way into her room, the hound looked silly with the cats playing with her tail while she observed the mate of her master move around the chamber.

The cat in her arms immediately started purring, Y/N had called the fluffy creature Luna, after the feline decided to live constantly gravitating around her.

She considered wearing a pale green mantle but decided otherwise, it was one of those rare days when the sun shone over the Autumn Court and she was determined to make the best of it.

Y/N left her chamber and started heading in direction of the gardens, she knew that she would find Eris waiting for her. It was starting to become a habit to promenade together around the gardens in the afternoon, her initial shyness had soon become curiosity and she had realised that conversing with her mate was quite enjoyable. When the mating bond had snapped, it had been a long time since Y/N had a long and significant conversation with another and now in three months she felt as if she had never talked so much ever before in her entire life. During the busy days that kept Eris in his office she usually went to curl up in one of the sofas there, with a book, silently thinking about why for some strange reason she did want to be in his presence anyway, even in silence when he tried to disentangle whatever problem the Court was facing.

He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his attention to the hounds enthusiastically wagging their tails, happy to be in the presence of their master. He looked up, feeling her presence, and offered a warm smile. She would never say it out loud, not after knowing him for such a short amount of time, but his smile made her think about the calm days of Autumn she had often daydreamed about in the past, when she had been wandering around the others courts always with a book in hand, reading the descriptions of warm coloured leaves and bonfires.

Eris reached for her hand as she approached him and gently kissed her knuckles before intertwining their fingers.

"Your grace is brightening my day," he murmured.

Y/N smiled at him, hoping to control the blush that she knew was making its way to her cheeks. She blamed the magic bond between them for how she had catched herself thinking about him in the last few days. In truth she had been relieved when she had realised how gentle he was with her, always making sure of her comfort; but she had seen the fire that was his power as much as it was his personality, the firmness and confidence he displayed in ruling his Court. The night before she had surprised herself thinking about how it would feel to kiss him, to have that gentleness turn into the fire she knew he had in him, to feel his hands and his lips fervently and hungrily explore her body. She had quickly put her absurd thoughts aside and it had been almost easy, but now she was walking next to him and it was impossible to ignore the warmth radiating from his body, making her remember every thought she had the night before. Y/N was tempted to snatch her hand away from his, but that would probably rise questions and maybe erase all of the progress they had made.

Eris guided her to a wisteria covered gazebo overlooking the woods that surrounded the Forest House.

"I was under the assumption that you had a meeting with your advisors this afternoon," said Y/N, not that she was upset to be there, but still the note she had received from him hours before had made her perplexed and a little guilty.

Eris grinned "No, the meeting had strangely disappeared from my schedule". She refrained from rolling her eyes, she didn't want him to ignore his duties just to entertain her, she didn't feel worthy of such bother.

He pressed a kiss to her temple as if he had sensed the tone of her thoughts. "Since the first time I saw you in this gardens, secretly smiling at every little plant as if they were your friends you had become the light of my days. And I will make sure to demonstrate that for as long as you will allow me," he murmured and then he added with a tender expression "Stop doubting your importance to me, my mate".

Y/N didn't respond, she looked away and started walking slowly in direction of the fountain, trying to hide her flushed cheeks and the troubled look in her eyes. She ignored the water and entered a path to the rose garden. She could feel Eris' eyes on her, studying her reactions and the awkwardness she had not presented in weeks. She asked herself what would he do if she broke their silent harmony of friendly hours spended talking and polite touches, they were mates but they acted like nothing more than two strangers who had recently started a discreet friendship which was also not far from the truth, but did he want her in the same way she had surprised herself wanting him lately? Or were they just trying to be civil after a superior force had pushed them together?

Y/N looked down pretending to find the falling of the leaves over the gardens interesting.

She did not notice Eris taking a rose from one of the bushes that were all around them until he brushed the flower against her arm and handed it to her.

Y/N didn't want to look at him, knowing that all of her thoughts were perfectly readable in her eyes, instead she leaned back, knowing that she would be met with his warmth. He chuckled when her back rested against his chest, his arms surrounding her waist.

"What did I do right to deserve such a treat?" whispered Eris in her ear.

Y/N shook her head and turned around, shyly leaving a delicate kiss on his lips and then observing his reaction, instinctively expecting him to laugh at her or to tell her that it was a mistake. The conviction of being unwanted and undesirable was stronger than her, deeply engraved into her heart by a life of solitude. She felt tears threatening to escape her self control.

But before she could regret her actions and run away, Eris' lips were on hers, hungrily kissing, tasting, savouring her with a passion that made her knees weak. When they broke away from the kiss she noticed tears in his eyes as well, and a fire that took her breath away. No one had ever looked at her that way and she was sure that no one would ever want her as fervently as Eris did.

They stayed there for a long time, both made speechless by the raw sense of belonging that had rushed over them, created by the mating bond and by something more. Neither of them had the courage to say it out loud yet, irrationally scared to shatter the enchanted silence of the rose garden with words. Without them noticing, love had made its way into their lives and it felt stronger than magic.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra x plus size reader

209 notes · View notes

cdragons · 1 month

Note

can we please have more headcanons on being friends with rob, jon and theon plz!!!

A/N: There are no words to describe how sorry I am for how long this took. I had so many incomplete fics on the backburner and finals are the WORST. But I hope this makes up for it!

This takes place in the same universe where the reader is Luwin's apprentice and grew up with the boys!

-> It was a well-known fact to the smallfolk residents of Winter Town that one of their own had managed to rise to the station of being an apprentice for THE Starks' one and only maester. Since then, you became a very popular figure for them.

-> If you weren't at the Winterfell Library or studying with Maester Luwin, you could often be found wandering around WInter Town and getting to know the townsfolk on a more personal level than the Starks. You were especially popular with mothers and children. You took special care to teach them how to gather special herbs for simple home remedies instead of medicine they cannot afford.

-> For the smallfolk children, you were used to them after years of being around the Starks when they were young, so you knew exactly how to handle them. As you became more competent and reliable, Luwin gave you more responsibilities and much more free time than when you first began. As a result, when a child would scrape their knee or get a cold, you were the first person people looked for help.

-> You soon became known as the 'Winter Fairy' to the smallfolk because you were always willing to help them with their troubles.

-> You even got money for your services to the Winter Town brothel. The girls adored you. You had herbs and remedies that made their lives so much easier: herbs to prevent pregnancies, remedies to quickly heal bruises and dark spots from a rough patron, poultices and ointments for rashes and sores, teas to reduce fevers and flush out illness - you were a gem!

-> Luwin didn't love that you were getting money for your help, but he supposed that since you were still just an apprentice, you needed to find a way to get money for more personal reasons. The Starks would pay you a fair wage when you became a full-time healer, and Luwin offered you a few coins as an allowance - but you refused to take his money. THis seemed like a much better manner of business to you.

-> The only ones who didn't seem to know of your services were the Stark Children and Theon. And you preferred it that way. Robb, Jon, and Theon were your best friends, but they could be so possessive of your time.

-> It seemed that the older you all grew, the more they expected that your time and your life be readily available for them and only them.

-> Theon was easily the worst of the three. He would find you wandering Winter Town on your own and would outright demand to know what you were skipping your duties - as if he wasn't doing the same thing. He would grab your arm and drag you all the way back. You could have been screaming, kicking, and throwing the worst tantrum a child could imagine - he would still put you in your place.

-> It was really bad when he found you at the brothel after he had spent some well-spent money on Ros, only to find you at the entrance in a thick cloak. He barked out your name, and you quickly tried to leave with your things before he could catch you. But you were much too slow, and he all-to-easily wrapped his hand around your wrist and led you out of the establishment.

"How can you be so stupid," he barked while dragging you. "You're a girl, alone, walking into a brothel like that? What would've happened if I wasn't there?" You struggled against him. "It's not like I was doin' anything bad or illegal," you snarled. "I was just selling herbs and teas for them! Maester Luwin said I could!" But Theon didn't hear any of it. "What if a man thought you were a new girl, huh? He would've paid for you and took you while you were cryin' and screaming without a care for your tears." "Nothing would've happened," you protested. "The madam of the place likes me! So do the girls - they wouldn't let anything happen to me!" "Stupid girl," Theon muttered while shaking his head. "From now on, you're not allowed to leave without me, Robb, or Jon with you. Gods know you can't be trusted on your own."

-> Robb was almost as bad as Theon. He would've been much, much worse if he hadn't been so busy with his duties as the first son and heir. He does place a great deal of trust in you. After all, you were approved by his father AND Luwin, and you were the smartest person he'd ever met, so he knows he can trust you on your own.

-> That is until when you become more lovely and beautiful as you grow older, and more men begin to notice you. Specifically, men who were allowed to flirt and court you because they were of similar stations to you. Knights, stableboys, stewards, and valets would come to you for the most minor things as an excuse to be near you, and it infuriated Robb to the point where he asked his father to order Luwin to order you to exclusively treat women and children.

-> To say you were furious was an understatement.

"How dare you?!" you demanded. You had returned from treating one of the sick children in Winter Town when you were ordered to meet with your mentor. "You had no right!" "Love," Robb sighed while pinching the bridge between his eyes. "What exactly d'you think I did?" "Do not take me for a fool, Robb Stark!" you snarled. "Asking Lord Stark to tell Luwin that I can only treat women and children is a gross insult to me and my skills!" "You're not qualified to treat knights and men!" Robb protested. "I'm saving you more trouble in the end!" Robb knew what he was saying wasn't true. You were more qualified - years after treating him, Jon, and Theon for their mishaps in the courtyard proved that. But what mattered was him convincing you to think you weren't qualified. It was of the utmost importance that you not be near anyone who could flirt and woo you. It was petty and childish, but Robb didn't care. "How can you be so mean?" you whimpered. You wanted to cry. "I know I'm good enough! You're lucky that Lord Stark laughed it off as a joke when I came to him!" "He what?!" Robb balked. "That's right," you nodded. "And if you ever pull something like this again, I won't ever help you if you get hurt in the courtyard again!"

-> Jon was a different beast altogether. Like the other two, he got unreasonably jealous when men would flirt with you - even if it wasn't serious. But he knew better than to insult your character or question your skills and professionalism. He understood that it was your job to care for those men, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Especially when he sees how oblivious you are to how much those men stare and long for you the same way he does.

-> He hated it because it reminded him how his status as a bastard meant he had nothing to offer you. Those men weren't good enough for you - none of them were. But they could provide for you, unlike him. But instead of pissing you off by getting angry with you, he'd just distance and brood to himself. He wouldn't be near you and instead would order Ghost to follow you around in his stead - which, if anything, pissed you off even more.

"Well?" Jon looked up from his sword to see you standing before him with your hands placed on your hips. You looked absolutely enraged at him, and Jon had a slight inkling why. "Umm," he cleared his throat. "I dunno what you mean, my lady." He stood and tried to walk away. "I think I hear Robb callin' for me, so I best be off." "I didn't hear Robb call your name," you growled. You shifted from your spot to block his path. "I don't hear anyone - everyone's in the Great Hall." "Yes, the Great Hall," Jon murmured. "Which is where I believe you're supposed to be as well." You stomped down your foot in frustration. "Don't act smart with me, Lord Jon," you ordered. "I can see you trying to avoid me. Every time I try to talk to you, you pretend you have something to do, or someone's calling for you when I know you didn't have chores or duties to do at any of those times." Jon looked down at his feet. "I dunno what you're on about," he muttered. "I've been busy, that's all. Even if I'm just a bastard, I still have duties to this house." "UGH! You're so infuriating!" you groaned. "I don't care that you're a bastard, y'hear me? You're my best friend, and that's all that matters to me! Who the fuck cares what anyone else thinks?!" When Jon tried to respond, you cut him off. "And before you try any of that 'it's not good for you to be seen with me' sheep dung, may I remind you that I was a smallfolk girl who ran away from home? If anything, I'm lower than you, and you don't see me caring." You walked closer to him. "And neither should you." Jon couldn't do anything but dumbly nod. His silent response made you smile. "Good," you held out your hand. "C'mon now, I'm starving, and I know you are too. And you should really reward Ghost better. He's been putting in an awful lot of work following me around and scaring my patients - 'specially my male ones." "Attaboy, Ghost," Jon thought to himself.

Let me know what you think in the comments and if you wanna be tagged for more GOT, HOTD, and/or ASOIAF content! If you have any ideas or suggestions, please drop an ask in my ask box!

#ask answered #robb stark x reader #jon snow x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #robb stark imagine #jon snow imagine #theon greyjoy imagine

81 notes · View notes