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sirlordevil · 12 hours

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Early in the morning, 4:33 am to be exact, Noir had dragged himself out of bed. He was going to make breakfast for his not-husband. He was going to give Chad a nice relaxing day even if it killed him. With how tired he was he honestly felt like it could.

Noir's eyes adjusted to the shadow cloaked home. It was dark, much darker than he'd expect. That's fine, fear of the dark was childish and he was far past that - although he did need a night light till he was about 14. Something felt off though, perhaps it was the silence, or the darkness, or the fact that he was still very tired. Whatever it was made him feel bizarre.

Maybe I'll feel better with the lights on. He exhales a deeply and walks over to the other side of the room. His hands blindly searched across the wall as the dark began to feel suffocating. His hands began to move a little faster - he bit his inner lip for indulging in an age old fear but then he heard it...

It was breathing.

Shallow, faint, breathing.

Maybe it's just me?

Noir holds his breath but he still hears the sound right behind him. Maybe Chad is awake? Yeah, he'd do something like this. Dammit.. it sucks that the plans were all ruined.

"Go back to bed, Chad. Jeez... scaring the hell out of me whenever I get up early-" His entire body goes rigid with fear whenever he feels an cold clammy hand press firmly over his mouth.

"It's pitiful that we had to meet this way but I need you to listen to my instructions, alright? You're not gonna bite, or scream, or yell, or kick, or fight. I know there's kids in the house and I know where they all sleep. Nod if you understand." It was a terrifyingly smooth and cold voice that lingered in a whisper just above Noir's ear.

Noir could feel his breath pick up in pace as he nods. Not again... It happened once, why again? "You're so pretty, how did he pull you??" The man seemed to talk in more or less of a hushed tone, he didn't seem to really care too much. Which he should care a lot more considering who's house he was in.

Noir wanted to do all the things he was told not to do in that order. Instead he said "fuck you, you don't know shit." But it was so muffled it came out more like "uck oo, oo on't know sit." Which instead of making the stranger pissed it made him chuckle.

"I think your gonna have to repeat that." The invader said with a quiet laugh. Noir instead quickly stomped a foot backwards onto the man's toes. He said nothing about stepping on toes unless that's included in fighting. It's toe stomping considered fighting?

"Agh-!" The man sucks in a deep breath and then kicks in the backs of Noirs knees, quickly and forcefully. Noir smacks his head on the wall before ultimately landing on his knees. At least that guy's hand is off of him now.

He scrambles to get to his feet, he was not gonna lose someone again. Noir turns around fast enough to give the ordinary guy whiplash. Just as he's able to see his face the man quickly slams his palm against Noirs throat, his grip tightening just a little as he pushes him against the wall.

"Having fight in you is great but you'll find that no matter what you're outmatched when I'm in the shadows. It'd be so much easier for you to give up now and listen to what I have to say."

Noirs nose twitches in annoyance, he spits in the guys face. "I don't listen to the words of a man with less intelligence than the muck on the bottom of his shoes." He sneers, he was waiting for the proper opening now. He would make one if he had to but for now he waited.

The stranger wiped his face with the sleeve of his free hand. "That was disgusting in a kinda hot way."

"I hope you step on a rusty nail. I hope you stub your toe everyday for the rest of your life. I hope you're miserable and stuck at a dead-end job. I hope you meet someone that makes you happy and they get hit by two busses simultaneously before your eyes. I hope you're skin gets stripped off by a vegetable peeler. I hope someone hangs you by your toe nails. I hope–"

"How many of those are in there..?" The dark haired stranger asked sounding mildly concerned.

"You would have known if you kept silent and counted in your head, fool." Noir responded in a sharp tone, his eyes narrowing at him.

"You are really something else."

"Says the man who broke into my home and pinned me to a wall by my throat." Noir says intentionally a little loud, trying to alert someone, anyone, in the home.

"Don't be so loud unless you want me to cover your mouth again."

"Get out of my house and I'll be quiet."

"You're really fun." Even in the dark Noir could see the man's eyes crinkle in a smile. Noir could feel his blood boil.

"You're really a piece of shit."

"Says the villain."

"Immature, no good, idiotic, air headed, home invading, charmless, son of a bit-"

"Ah-ah-ah you can't say that. That's speaking ill of the dead." The stranger wags his finger in an almost playful manner.

"Frankly, I don't care if your mom is dead. It doesn't change that your in my house and I highly dislike you."

"So cruel, and two faced too." The man smiled knowingly, as if he had a wonderfully big secret he could drop at any time. Noir was growing increasingly frustrated by the look on that smug man's face.

"Two faced?" Noir had asked, unsure of the implications. He tried to sound a little disinterested, he didn't want whoever this guy is to think he had any interest in him whatsoever.

"I couldn't imagine you telling that to Logan- er Chad."

"Yeah? Well, he's not you and his mom is a different from yours so I think you used that terminology wrong."

"Well I admit he and I aren't the same person but I can't say the same about our mother.. and father."

"What does that even...? Oh."

"My name is Nathaniel Harrison but you can call me Nate."

"Okay, Nathaniel, get out of my house. My partner is mentally draining himself and I'm trying to give him a non-strenous day. So you can take your gross hands elsewhere for today and come back tomorrow - knock before you enter too."

"Youch but no can do I've got some important stuff to talk to my lil bro about."

Noir punches him in the stomach, Nate reflexively grabs it and groans in pain. Now that Noir's neck is free he snatches Nate by the ear and drags him to the front door. Nate yanks himself away.

"Hey now, is that any way to treat a guest?" Nate says with a nervous tenor in his voice.

"Uninvited guests, yes." Noir opens the door and goes to shove him out, outside but...

Where did he go?

Noir whirls his head around to look behind him. How did he get there?! Nate chuckles and then pushes Noir out his own home, locking the door behind him.

Noir stares at his lair silently. He was outside in the cold morning air with nothing but a pair of pajamas on. He shivered and was unsure if it was the dread setting in or the chill of the morning breeze. He didn't have the spare key, that was inside, and Chad had been a door and window locking fanatic as of late.

Nate must have had some sort of way in though, right?

Apparently wrong because after repeated efforts Noir was still locked outside, left cold and angry and honestly pretty anxious.

#evil overlord #lore?#cw: home invasion #cw: mild violence

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clovcherry · 2 years

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lonely (NSFW! MDNI)

pairing: Shu Yamino x gn!reader

synopsis: you felt so lonely without shu so you decided to take things into your own hands!

t/w: NSFW, sub!reader, dom!shu, oral (m receiving) (low-key big d shu LMAOO) size kink (???), unprotected sex, penetration

a/n: this was my current work before his bday and now I regret not writing anything for shus birthday and posting smut on his bday is a little weird so I postponed posting this. also writing smut gn is so difficult 😭 but I wanna be inclusive so pls bare with me

shu has always been a hardworker when it comes to something he's passionate about. even though he tries to make time for you despite his tight schedule, you felt a little lonely when going to bed alone sometimes. when you'd sleep, he'd be streaming. however, today, you were feeling rather lonely, the bed looked so cold and empty without him.

"they're B!" shu exclaimed as he desperately tried to defend B site from the enemy. it was 12am and he was still streaming valorant with his friends. of course, as his s/o you didn't really mind his weird sleep schedule and you actually started to getting used to it.

you got up from the bed, walking towards your boyfriend. "hold on a moment," shu spoke into the mic before muting himself. he pushed himself away from his table and turned around to face with you a sweet smile plastered on his face. "what happened to feeling tired, love?" he chuckled as you slid onto his lap, claiming your spot as if it was your throne. "I missed you.." you mumbled as you snuggled into his body, nuzzling your head in his neck, his familiar scent sent you into euphoria, oh how much you've missed being this close to him.

"I know babe, I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow," he whispered, kissing your forehead as you hummed in response.

after reassuring you, he unmuted himself and continued on with his game. as you rested in his lap, engulfed in his warmth and scent. you shifted around his lap as you "felt a little uncomfortable", he let out a soft groan, his cheeks heating up a little and his chat just goes wild.

"I just stubbed my toe- "it sounded like a moan" eye emoji? y'all gotta chill!" shu laughed, playing it off as if nothing happened.

if plan A doesn't work, plan B has to, right?

you lifted your head up, admiring shu's striking features. from his gorgeous violet orbs to his v shaped mouth. memories came rushing back of nights before, he would have you writhing in pleasure under him whenever you wanted.

you moved upwards, getting closer to his ear, whispering, "shu, please touch me, please I need you.."

shu's ears perked up, quickly turning red. his cheeks heating up even more when you started grinding against him. he almost malfunctioned, his eyes staring intensely into his monitor as he tried to ignore the growing tent inside of his pants. he could barely focus on his game, despite his tight iron grip on his mouse, he was still missing almost every shot. with how you were moving against him and your quiet muffled moans, you were driving him insane.

he couldn't take it anymore. just because of you, he had to turn up his bgm to drown out your noises. he knew you were doing this on purpose, and on his stream!

"alright guys thats it for today, I'm gonna hop off now! thanks for the games! I'll see you all on the other side, otshu!!" as he ended his stream, you started moaning louder, nearing your climax.

"do you really think I'm gonna let you off that easily after what you did?" his hands gripping onto your waist, holding you in place.

"w-why! I-I was so close!" You cried out, squirming around whining about how close you were.

he slammed his lips against yours, taking the chance to slip his tongue in your mouth as he explores your insides. he stood up, pulling away from your lips, you scrambled to wrap your legs around his waist as he walks towards the bed. he gently sets you down on the bed as he continues kissing you and groping your most sensitive areas.

"i'm sorry- hah- shu.. i just felt so lonely.." you gasped for air when he finally broke the kiss.

"sorry isn't gonna work on me love, unless.. you can show me?" he smirks, you shyly turned away while nodding. you dug your own grave, you should've seen this coming.

getting onto your knees as shu sits on the bed, you pull his pants and underwear down. his cock springs up as it stands tall and proud. you started off by sucking his tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. no matter how many times you've pleased him with your mouth, you could almost never get used to his grith.

it was so cute seeing you like this, struggling to take all of him into your mouth, your sweet innocent eyes staring up at him. shu reached his hand out to cup your cheeks as he gently stroked your face. "you can do it love," he cooed.

you started moving his grith in and out of your mouth, and stroking the part you couldn't fit in your mouth with your hands. shu's groans were getting louder, even though he wasn't one to make a lot of noise, the sight of you looking so lewd had him on cloud 9. his pants and moans were getting heavier, noticing this, you started trying to move faster, his cock twitching before he releases all inside your mouth. shu groans at the sight of how your mouth was filled up with his semen, so much that a little bit of it was leaking out from the side of your lips. he just loves the sight of you.

"we're not done yet darling," shu lifts you up, placing you on the bed again. he's never noticed how much he's missed seeing you so flustered underneath him. he pulls off your shirt (or rather his shirt). "you wore nothing but my shirt? naughty." he grumbled. how bold of you to only wear his shirt with absolutely nothing underneath. his hands roamed all over your chest, groping and sucking, leaving marks all over.

"p-please put it inside.." you whimpered, you felt like a virgin all over again with how shu handled your body.

he pushed your knees to your chest, effectively placing you into a mating press. he pressed his tip against your hole, rubbing against it before he pushed his shaft into your heat. the familiar warmth of your gummy walls tightening around his cock, trying to milk him for all his worth. you let out a soft moan, wrapping your hands around his board back.

he started pistoning into your tight little hole, letting out pants and groans. "I've- hah- missed this feeling, so much.." he moaned out between pants. you couldn't even formulate a proper sentence, you could only reply with moans.

the way his shaft rubbed against your velvety walls, you clenched around him impossibly tighter. his cock ravaging your insides, abusing that special spot deep inside you. your mind was blank, letting out incoherent babbles about how good you felt and how much you missed him, but they were barely understandable. he really did fuck you stupid.

your eyes started to tear up, the stimulation was getting stronger and stronger. you saw stars when you came all over him. shu groaned, his climax getting closer. he was still going, he was determined to use your hole like a fleshlight. drowned by the tightness of your hole, you felt your hole being filled to the brim with his semen. that warm feeling that you've always loved.

you finally awoke, you let out a yawn as you got up from bed. you felt your heart drop as you looked to your side, staring at the empty space. shu was missing again.

"good morning sleepyhead," the void in your heart disappeared when you heard his voice, he stood by the door, holding a tray of food in his hands.

you returned the greeting as shu placed the tray on your lap. you stared at the food in front of you. slices of pancakes stepped ontop of each other, surrounded by fruits cut into the shape of hearts, and topped off with syrup. your eyes were brimming with tears.

I've missed this.

#shu yamino x reader #luxiem x reader #luxiem smut

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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hello wendy! 💗 can i request working in the brothel wherein you and draken had become really close and he always kind of had an eye for you but would never do anything about it since he treated the girls that work there as family/friends so he didnt wanna cross the line but one day you asked if you could use his shower since urs was broken and you know how it goes 👀

please feel free to ignore if you want. thank you so much!

Rule Breakers: Ken Ryuguji x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

"Draken..."

The dragon tattoo peeks out from behind the doorway as you pad over to his room, your towel wrapped tightly around your body.

"What's up, y/n?" When Draken turns to face you, his eyes widen slightly, then narrow, picking up on the fact that something is very wrong if you're out in the hallway with a red face.

"My shower," you explain, pointing behind you.

Draken swallows hard when he sees the swell of your breasts, nipples prominent under the thin towel you called "protection".

"It's not working anymore."

Ah, right. The shower.

Draken had almost forgotten his little "deconstruction" of the showerhead he'd orchestrated earlier. It had taken him a considerable amount of time - time that you were spending out shopping with some of the other girls - to disassemble the pieces just so, then put it back together.

It'd been a spur-of-the-moment choice that's now paying off in dividends.

"You can always use my shower," Draken offers nonchalantly. At first, you're hesitant. What if it isn't clean? What if he's gross like all of the boys you know? Hesitantly, you nod, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Here goes nothing.

When you flick on the lights, you see an incredibly neat bathroom.

Like, impeccable.

How Draken keeps the bathroom hotel-pristine, you don't know. But when you step into the shower, you let yourself relax, thinking about how kind Draken has been to you as of late. He's let you use his shower, allowed you to crash in his room when you weren't with customers, even taken the time to do your hair when you weren't feeling up to the task.

He's like the best friend you never had - considering your circumstances - which also makes it a little unnerving when you find yourself thinking about him sexually.

You imagine him coming in as one of your customers - a rich, older man with no wife, no kids, just a need to satisfy - and how he'd treat you. You wonder if he'd ask you to go down on him first or if he'd oblige to eat you out (in your wildest fantasies, Draken does it without asking). And you know he's not one to play around with his dick game.

You've seen the outline in his sweatpants while he's walking around the brothel. Everyone knows Draken isn't one to fuck with when it comes to his size or length.

Would he be tender? Or would he be rough and demanding, whispering filthy things in your ears while he collects what he paid for?

Your fingers are instinctively working on your clit, rubbing it furiously while the water hits your back. But the moan that escapes isn't something you fully remember until the door opens with a thud.

"You okay, y/n? Something wrong?"

You instantly remove your hands from your cunt, fumbling for an answer.

"Um..." You pause. "I'm fine, just hit my toe in here."

"Did you stub it on the corner?" Draken snatches back the curtain in his haste, hoping you're not bleeding out from your toes when--

You gasp, feeling cold air hit your backside and turning around to snatch the curtain back. But you can't move when you see Draken's gaze hungrily eyeing your naked figure in the shower. There's a brief moment where you both wonder if you should be doing this, but you move first, grabbing his shirt and pulling him forward into the spray of the showerhead.

Draken doesn't think; at this point, he's on auto-pilot. To him, a pretty girl + a shower + she's naked + I want her = this. You forget everything else as you kiss him, lips gentle and plush and everything you've ever wanted in a man. And Draken doesn't touch you with harsh fingers. No, he gently smooths them across your skin, touches your face with sweeping gestures, and cups your chin with feather-light strokes.

Soon, his shirt is clinging to his muscled figure and his pants are drenched. But again, Draken doesn't seem to mind. He just takes them off, the articles of clothing landing with a wet thump on the floor of the shower.

Then he presses you back against the wall, both of his hands braced above your head. You're so enamored with his lips that you don't notice the thick, veiny cock filling the space between you. This is against every code of ethics Draken has ever stood for, but you... you're worth breaking the rule.

"Draken," you whisper, chest now pressed against the wall while he rides your squeezed-together thighs. "Draken, you're so big..." The large man presses a kiss to your shoulder, humming softly.

"Afraid I won't fit, sweetheart?" He's being genuine, you discern. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have asked you such a silly question. Of course, you're worried he won't fit.

"Yeah," you reply anyway, moaning as his tip caresses your clit gently.

"Don't worry," Draken breathes in your ear. "I'll fit every inch inside of you."

_____________________________________________________________

"Draken, Draken, Draken," you pant, legs spread apart on the bed as the man behind you presses himself into your soaking wet cunt. You've been dry for a while elsewhere, but you rode Draken's fingers to your first orgasm, then let him drag you out of the shower and to the bed. He tossed a few towels across the sheets and opened you up like a present on Christmas Day; like you're the girl he'd always dreamt of having.

"Unnhh..."

If you crane your head a little to the left, you can see yourself in the mirror, mouth open, chest to the bed. The view is incredible, but it surely can't compare to the view Draken has.

"Just one more inch, princess."

"C-can't..."

"Shh, shh, shh..." Gentle fingers roam from the top of your back to the small of your back. "You can. I know you can."

Your hands grip the sheets above you as he sinks a little deeper, reaching a part of you no client has dared to reach before. You know he's bottomed out when he sighs in content, and you feel close to splitting in two around his cock. The pain and pleasure crest as Draken begins to rock back and forth, starting off as slow as he can.

"Oh, my god..." You toss your head back with your eyes closed, thinking about nothing as Draken fucks you stupid.

"Baby girl," he coos, wrapping his hand around your neck. "Don't tell me you're already drunk on this cock." You can't reply, not with the stretching Draken is giving you. "Look at me." You open your eyes but can't focus quite yet, staring into space as the cock inside of you rubs you in all the right places. Kisses rain down on your neck and shoulders, the pumping sensation increasing as you're deposited softly on the bed again.

A sharp building sensation runs through you, and you angle your hips backward, meeting Draken thrust for thrust. None of your other clients have ever done anything this earth-shattering.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you keen, arching your back more. Draken hisses between his teeth, hands gripping your hips tightly.

"You like making men cum quickly, don't you," Draken grumbles, speeding up his stroke. "Don't you, baby?"

"Please," you whine dumbly, which is answered with a series of taps on your cunt with the fingers of one hand.

"Cum with me," the man behind you urges you. "You know you want to."

"Sh-- Shit!"

"That's it. Cum all over this cock." Draken continues to pat on your clit, and you come undone as quickly as you can, hips jerking back and forth as you suck his cock into you with every shudder.

"Gonna... gonna cum..." Draken grunts then proceeds to moan repeatedly, his hips stuttering into yours. The high is short-lived, however. "That's one," Draken huffs. "Think can you help me break my record of three in one night, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," you murmur.

"That's my girl."

#draken smut #ken ryuguji smut #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #draken x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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annabethy · 3 years

Note

Annabeth making Percy a surprise dinner?

in which Annabeth tries to bake but Percy’s a much better (and entertaining) cook,, percabeth

Percy honestly doesn’t know what to expect at home when his wife stops answering her texts halfway through the day. At first, he chalks it up to her taking a nap, which is understandable considering she’s still recovering from a nasty cold that had her out for a week, but when it stretches hours with no response, he starts to get a bit suspicious.

He goes about his day at work normally, glancing at his phone every couple of minutes in anticipation for a response that never comes. He manages not to get too worried because knowing her, she probably forgot to charge her phone, but it doesn’t stop his leg from bouncing up and down in the driver’s seat of his car.

Percy practically jumps out of the car the second he’s parked and makes his way up to their apartment. There’s not really much going through is head besides him repeating where Annabeth over and over in his head like a broken record. He struggles to unlock the front door, and while he’d like to say it was due to his nerves, it’s much more likely that he is just bad with locks.

When the lock does click open, he is immediately met with the sound of something metal clanging in the kitchen and the distinct smell of smoke.

“Annabeth?”

He shuts the door behind him silently, kicking his shoes off. His footsteps are light against the wooden floor as not to startle her. When he rounds a corner and she comes into sight, there is an image in front of him that makes him want to both laugh and cry.

His kitchen looks like a bomb went off inside of it; there’s flour in every square inch of the room, and he’s pretty sure the counter is going to be permanently stained blue with the amount of food coloring she’s managed to spill. The oven is on, though there’s nothing in it, urging him to believe she may have forgotten she’d turned it on entirely.

Annabeth doesn’t acknowledge his presence, which isn’t a surprise considering the amount of noise she’s making. Percy leans against the wall to watch the scene unravel — Annabeth is wrestling a pile of dough that she clearly hasn’t let rise yet. It’s comical, watching her attempt to bake. She’s never been the best at it so he’s resigned to cooking for the two of them, so when she did take over cooking every once in a while, he couldn’t help but stop and laugh at her in adoration.

She’s with her back to Percy, so he makes to move behind her. If she’s startled when he wraps his arms around her waist, pressing his face between her shoulder blades, she doesn’t let it show.

“Hey,” Percy whispers, pressing his lips right below her ear. The skin is incredibly soft, and he loves the way she smells, so sweet and like herself. “What are you doing?”

She doesn’t answer, instead twisting out of his grasp and smiling innocently. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You mean you’re not destroying our kitchen?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Annabeth looks around the room before looking back at him, as though saying see?

“So we’re not going to talk about your hands stained blue?”

“Uh– no.”

Percy gives her an accusing look.

“I was trying to do something nice for you,” she admits, “but you’re home early and ruined the surprise.”

“Yeah?” He moves to stand in front of her, attempting to corner her against the counter. She protests for a moment before giving in to the kiss he presses to her forehead.

“It didn’t work anyways. I’m not a very good cook.”

“You’re not,” he agrees. Annabeth pouts, and Percy wants to kiss her, so he does.

“Why are you trying to do something nice?”

“Because,” she starts dramatically, slumping into his arms. “You took care of me all last week, which couldn’t have been fun.”

“It was lots of fun,” Percy tells her.

“Absolutely not.”

Percy hums in disagreement. “I get the best snuggles out of you when you’re sick. Otherwise, you’re just mean.”

Annabeth pushes his shoulder lightly. “I’m not mean.”

“Sometimes you’re mean,” he says playfully.

“I don’t think I like being married to you anymore.”

“You love being married to me,” he dismisses, pulling away from their hug. He regrets it a few seconds later, missing the heat of her body against his. “Can I help you finish?”

Annabeth whines. “No. It was supposed to be a surprise, so go do something else while I finish.”

On any other day, he would, but he’s missed her today more than usual. Besides, he’d much rather stay and watch this train wreck unfold in front of his eyes. It’s times like this he loves the most, he thinks, when the two of them get to make a mess with a childlike innocence, just being with one another. That’s what causes him to shake his head and kiss her once more.

“I want to help.”

“You want to help?”

“I love watching you fail at cooking,” he says sweetly, narrowly dodging the flick to the tip of his nose. “Come on. I’ll even clean everything up for you if you let me help.”

Annabeth pretends to think for a minute before stepping onto her tiptoes so she can press a kiss to his lips. “Fine,” she mutters against him, “but the joke’s on you. You were going to be cleaning everything up anyways.”

Percy rolls his eyes, but he can hardly be upset when she’s looking at him with such affection in her eyes.

It doesn’t take long at all before Percy decides to start messing with her. She leans over his shoulder while he begins to mix a bowl of buttercream frosting, and he practically has to shake her off of him. He pretends to be annoyed by the kisses she presses into his neck, the task at hand completely forgotten on her end, but it sends a jolt through him each time she makes contact with his skin. He honestly doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

“It needs food coloring,” Annabeth tells him.

“Why don’t you pick a color?” Percy isn’t entirely thinking when he says that. Annabeth takes it as an invitation to pop open the cap to a small glass jar and tip it into the bowl he’s mixing in.

Percy chokes, snatching the food coloring from her fingers. “Annabeth!”

“What?”

He sets the jar aside carefully and shakes his head at her, amused. “You’ve just managed to turn our insides blue for a week.”

“I thought you liked blue.” Percy dips his finger into the bowl, scooping a glob of the deep blue frosting up. He glances at Annabeth, contemplating his next move. She’s looking at him with an emotion he can’t read, and so he looks back to the frosting.

“It’s a pretty color, don’t you think?”

Percy laughs. “You think so?”

“I’m surprised you don’t.”

With that, Percy decides to drag the frosting in a line down her cheek before she gets the chance to move away. It leaves a thick trail of blue that’s no doubt going to be stained on her face for the next day, given the way his finger is colored.

“Percy,” Annabeth threatens. She reaches for the bowl in a sudden movement, but he shoves it away before she gets her hands on any.

“You like the color!” he defends. Annabeth starts moving towards him, and he moves in the opposite direction, attempting to use the island as a barrier between the two of them.

Annabeth just stops and stares at him. It’s not particularly threatening, but it’s calm enough to make him sure that she’s about to make him regret it.

Annabeth points at the ground in front of her. “Come here.”

“I’m good where I am.”

It’s then that she starts towards him again, and he stumbles backwards, stubbing his toe on the corner of the counter. The sharp pain distracts him from the fact that his wife is rapidly approaching, and the next thing he knows, Annabeth is jumping on his back. His knees buckle for a moment before he manages to gain his balance.

Her hand splays across his face as she tries to reach across the counter for the batch of frosting, so Percy does just about everything he can to prevent it. He tries to shake her off, but she just grabs him by the entire face and squishes his cheeks.

“Stop moving,” she scolds, tugging sharply on his hair.

Percy desperately doesn’t want to be turned into a smurf for the next week, but he doesn’t particularly want to drop his wife on the ground either, so he has no choice but to let her crawl across his back for the metal bowl.

“Baby,” Percy breathes out, watching her scoop up a glob of frosting. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I think we both know I do.”

“I promise to be a good boy from now on.”

“Your words mean nothing to me.”

“You won’t do this if you love me.”

Annabeth giggles into his ear, and it’s so cute that he can’t even be mad about what happens next.

She slaps him in the face with a fistful of blue frosting, and it goes in just about every hole on his face. Annabeth’s laughing gleefully in his ear when she slides off his back and admires the work she’s done.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

Percy wipes his eyes so he can open them without the threat of getting sugar in his eyes. He’s met with her bright smile, her dimples becoming prominent, and he falls in love with her all over again.

“You look good in blue.”

Percy lifts the corners of his mouth, wiggling a finger in her direction. “I think you’d look even better in blue.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Before she can protest, he tugs her back into his arms and smooshes his face against hers. She tries to twist out of his grasp, but he just holds on tighter until she’s laughing to the point that she can’t breathe.

“Now you look good in blue too,” he says. She opens her mouth, about to complain, but then he lowers his lips to her cheek, and her words falter. Her eyes flutter shut as he kisses around her face, peppering featherlight touches everywhere he can reach, before ending against her lips.

“I love you,” he says, “even when you cover me in sticky frosting.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and kisses his nose. He pulls her in tighter.

“I love you too,” she tells him, “even when you ruin my surprises.

“Oh please. I just made this a moment to remember.”

It’s true, he thinks. It’ll be a pain to clean up, but she looks so happy that he thinks it’s worth it. It’s a memory they’ll pass on and recreate. And maybe, one day… he likes to think that there will be kids that they can bake cookies with. Days spent together filled with laughter and endless love.

Percy’s sure he has a soft smile on his face when Annabeth taps him on the forehead.

“What are you thinking about?”

Percy nudges her nose with his. “Us,” he admits quietly, “baking a few years from now, with one or two kids.”

Annabeth’s smile matches his. “Yeah?”

“And…” Percy bites his lip. “Never mind. It’s silly.”

“Tell me,” she says, eyes sparkling.

“You’re laughing at me,” he complains.

“I’m not laughing at you. I want to know.”

Percy thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. I just love you and us and this.”

Somehow, she knows what he means. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t need to. Instead, she just smiles and kisses him like there’s no one else but them.

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

April Fools//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Silly pranks and a little angst, a tiny bit of small language

Summary: April 1st was a special day for many reasons, and it’s about to get a whole lot more special once Fred asks an important question.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Here’s a special fic for the twins birthday, as well as April Fools’ Day! Fourth fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley.

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~

Message me to join the taglist!

March 31, 1995

For the third time that night, Angelina Johnson rolled her eyes at you and hit you with her pillow. Hard. So hard that you ended up toppling off of your bed due to the excited, unbalanced position you were in, practically standing at the edge of your bed.

“Angie!” you screamed from the floor, your smile cracking through the angry façade you were putting on.

“Oh you deserved it Y/N!” your roommate yelled. “If I have to hear you talk about Fred for one more minute I swear...”

“I second that,” said Alicia Spinnet from her bed, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. “Just grow a pair and ask him out already!”

“You’re crazy, absolutely insane,” you replied, climbing back onto your sheets only to be knocked down by your friend once again.

“Ok I swear I’m done now,” Angelina said through her giggles. “But Alicia’s right. It’s been two bloody years, why don’t you get up off your timid ass and actually do something? What could go wrong?”

“What could go wrong?”

Alicia groaned at your incredulous tone, knowing exactly what Angelina had just started. She covered her ears with her pillow, hoping to drown out the next barrage of rapid fire words from your mouth.

“Would you like the possibilities listed alphabetically or by order of significance?” you quipped, not giving either of the girls any time before you started again. “First of all, he would laugh at me. Then he’d realize how sad it was that I thought I actually had a chance with him and he’d make fun of me to the entire school. And you know that Fred can’t keep his damn mouth shut!”

The girls murmured in agreement, knowing firsthand to never tell Fred any secrets unless they wanted the entire student body and population of England to know as well.

“So he’d tell everyone,” you continued, “and they’d all make fun of me and talk about me behind my back. ‘Oh there goes poor Y/N, she’s so sad that she thought that the hottest guy in school would be interested in her! What a stupid stupid girl.’”

“I personally think his brother is hotter, but to each his own,” Angelina murmured.

“Bloody hell they’re identical twins, they’re practically the same,” said Alicia.

“They’re not the same,” you and Angelina replied in sync, turning to each other and giggling before you finished your rant.

“Anyways, the whole school would think I’m a moron, all of Fred’s family would think I’m a moron, and I’d probably be a laughing stock at The Burrow and I’d be too embarrassed to spend another summer there with everyone making fun of me! So that is why I will not be confessing my feelings any time soon.”

Your friends just sighed and rubbed their temples, used to hearing this kind of talk from you.

“You know you’re hot as fuck, right?” said Alicia, gesturing up and down and seeming to check you out.

“I know that,” you replied confidently. Something about being friends with Alicia and Angelina had brought out your confidence and you knew your self worth, but not when it came to the love of your life. “But there’s plenty of girls here who are hotter and haven’t had their hair held back by him while they threw up their guts into the toilet.”

Alicia choked on the drink she was sipping, remembering that party a few months ago. “Yeah, remind us not to let you have firewhisky again you lightweight.”

You tossed your pillow at her, making her spill her drink and grumble in your direction.

“Alright if you won’t tell him, why don’t you hint at it and hope for him to make a move?” Angelina suggested. “His birthday’s tomorrow, what did you get him?”

“I, umm, I didn’t have that much money, so I had to be more... creative about it.” You pulled a sweater from one of your drawers, a deep purple color with orange stitching along the sleeves and collar. “Molly taught me how to knit over the summer and I’ve been working on this ever since. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“That is the sweetest thing ever, Y/N,” said Angelina. “And Fred doesn’t care about money or wealth, I’m sure he’ll love it. Trust me, give him this and flirt with him all day tomorrow and I’m sure he’ll get the hint.”

“He hasn’t gotten it yet, and I’ve done nothing but flirt all year!”

“Then flirt harder,” said Alicia. “Give it all you have, and if it doesn’t work out then he’s a good for nothing prick. That’s how I live my life,” she said shrugging.

“Great advice, thanks,” you drawled. “But alright, I’ll try harder. Tomorrow’s gonna be a day to remember!”

------------------------------

April 1, 1995

You and your roommates slowly snuck out of your room the next morning, being as quiet as humanly possible. On a normal day you wouldn’t bother to be this careful, but today was not a normal day. It was April 1st, the twins’ birthday. Also know as their favorite day of the year, April Fools’ Day.

Alicia stubbed her toe on one of the steps and let out a small peep, making you and Angelina turn to her in horror. Your cover was blown.

“Well, well, well,” came a voice from down the stairs. “What do we have here?”

You shoved Angelina in front of you, clutching the back of her uniform for dear life. “You go,” you whispered. “You’re the strongest.”

“No,” she said quickly, “Alicia’s the fastest, she can outrun them and cause a distraction!”

“You know I wouldn’t even make it out of the common room,” Alicia replied. “Y/N can go first, she can talk them out of doing anything.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Like that’s ever worked before. I ended up going to bed to find a giant snake my sheets.”

“Well, someone has to go first!” Angelina hissed.

The three of you continued your argument in low voices, none of you wanting to be the first to face Fred and George's wrath. You were so caught up in your conversation that you didn’t even notice the figure behind you until they cleared their throat.

You all screamed and you tripped over Angelina, causing you all to tumble down the few last stairs. The second you made it to the bottom, you felt a warm, gooey liquid dripping down your head. Reaching your hand up to touch it, you saw that it was a green goop that was now covering you and your friends.

Laughter erupted from both sides of you. The person who had been standing behind you, who you now realized was George, was holding Colin Creevey’s camera and snapping a picture. Fred, standing practically over top of you, was doubled over clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.

You sighed and looked down, already defeated. “Happy birthday, Freddie.”

“I think you mean,” he said through giggles, “happy April Fools’ Day!”

Angelina and Alicia were shooting daggers at the twins, who were still laughing and snapping photos.

“This makes quite the pretty picture, doesn’t it Freddie?” George asked, showing him the camera.

“Ah, yes it does! Y/N, you look beautiful as ever darling, even covered in goo.”

You put your hands out, expected for him to help you stand up. Once he hoisted you to your feet you threw your arms around him, wiping as much substance as you could onto his clothes.

“Hey!” he said, trying to escape your death grip.

“What?” you asked innocently. “Can’t a girl hug her friend on his birthday?” You emphasized your words by grabbing some goo from your hair and reaching up to ruffle his, spreading it through his ginger locks.

“You’re a handful, love,” he said, finally giving up on escaping the revenge.

“But you can handle me, can’t you?” You winked at him and let him go, turning around to see George pinned to the ground by Angelina, face covered in green.

“I give, I give! I’m sorry!” She got off of him and offered him a hand up. You looked around at everyone to see that you all were a mess, covered head to two in Fred and George’s prank.

“Well,” said Alicia, “this is not how I wanted my morning to go, but I didn’t expect anything less. I’m gonna go get changed.”

“Me too,” said Angelina and George nodded as well, heading to their respective dorms.

This left only you and Fred. Your heart started pounding. How were you supposed to flirt even more than you usually did? Were you supposed to make a move, maybe confess your feelings?

“I, umm, I have your present upstairs,” you said finally. “It’s not very good, but I can go grab it for you now if you’d like. After I’m clean that is.”

He bumped your shoulder with his, making your heart beat even faster. “I’m sure I’ll adore it, love. And actually, I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course, what is it?”

Fred avoided eye contact, fidgeting with his messy uniform. “Umm, why don’t we hang out today and I can tell you then. We could maybe, go on a picnic for lunch? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A large grin grew on your face, spreading slowly but surely. Maybe you didn’t have to be the one to make a move after all. “Of course I want to, Freddie! It’ll be fun.”

“Great!” he said relieved. “I’ll see you then.”

You nodded as he ran to catch up with George. As soon as he left the common room you nearly fell over, having to hold onto a wall to keep yourself up. You sprinted to your room, mind racing with exactly what you were going to wear this afternoon.

------------------------------

“Hey, love,” Fred called from across the entrance hall. “You look great.”

You blushed a little, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and trying to subtly look him up and down. Fred had dressed a little nicer than usual for your picnic, which made you feel better about putting in so much effort yourself.

He came over and grabbed your hand in his, linking your fingers together and pulling you out the door. You wished your hands weren’t so clammy, and you hoped that Fred couldn’t tell.

He took you to a secluded part of the courtyard, the corner where most kids would go to make out. Was that what was happening? Did he want to kiss you?

Fred spread out a blanket and opened the picnic basket, containing both of your favorite foods.

“Looks so good Freddie,” you said. “Snuck into the kitchen again, didn’t you?”

“What can I say,” he shrugged. “Guy’s gotta eat.”

“You said like Ron.”

“Don’t ever insult me like that again, woman, or I will never speak to you”

You rolled your eyes at him and leaned back on your elbows. “Having Fred Weasley actually leave me alone for five minutes? That would be absolutely horrible. What would I do, not being able to hear about your pranks and projects?”

He leaned forward to tickle your sides, making you flail around and kick him away. “You’d be so desperate for me back, you’d probably lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tongue.

The two of you continued to eat and talk, mostly about his plans for his birthday and how he was going to terrorize his mum once he got home for the summer because he could now legally do magic outside of Hogwarts. After what felt like forever of laughing and rolling around on the blanket and grass, your curiosity was finally getting the best of you.

“Alright Fred, enough’s enough,” you said, turning partly serious. “Why did you ask me out here with you?”

Fred got nervous once again, grabbing some more food to shove in his mouth to buy him some time before answering.

“I’m waiting. What, you wanted to ask me out but got too nervous? Huh, is that it?” You were completely joking, but Fred didn’t seem to correct you. He just turned to you and gave you a small nod, shocking you to your core.

“What?” you asked, needing clarification.

“Uh, well, Y/N, there’s something important I need to say.” He looked jumpy and excitable, but there was also a cocky gleam in his eye, which was always present with the boy. “I’m madly in love with you. I have been since we were 15, and I just needed to let you know. I want to hold you and kiss you and grow old with you, my darling princess. Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You sat there in complete surprise. This couldn’t be real, could it? Fred Weasley had loved you since you were 15? The tingles you always got when he said something to yo couldn’t compare to what you were feeling now.

Fred opened his mouth in a wide grin about to say something, when you cut him off with a hug. “Oh Freddie, you don’t understand how happy that makes me! I’ve loved you for forever, you’re perfect. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

You held him tighter, burying your face in his neck and soaking in the feeling of being Fred’s girlfriend. But Fred had a completely different feeling running through him.

He made eye contact with George, who was hiding in the bushes with his camera ready. He mouthed a question but Fred just shook his head in confusion. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were supposed to laugh at him, become super uncomfortable. Fred knew that you only saw him as a friend and flirted with him jokingly. He’d never in a million years expect for you to confess your feelings back to him.

He didn’t know what to do. You were just so open and vulnerable, confessing everything you’d been holding back. So, acting against George’s frantic suggestions, he completed the hug, resting his head on the top of yours.

What was he supposed to do? You were his best friend, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. How was he supposed to tell you, that this was all an April Fools?

Tag List: @famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#fred #fredweasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #georgeweasley #fredweasleyfluff #fredweasleyimagine #fred weasley #hogwarts #harrypotter #abby’s week of weasley #april fools #Fred weasley birthday

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post-nuclear-sweetheart · 3 years

Text

Weight of the World (1 & 2)

Patches interacts with the NPCs of Firelink Shrine, while an abusive Ashen One is away.

Every now and again the familiar sound of armour clunking up the worn stone stairs of the shrine would stir Patches from thought. They would approach him with a silent glare and voicelessly inquire about his inventory and would either purchase something, much to Patches’ delight, or would abruptly walk away, followed by his belittling words.

There was a period of time the Ashen One didn’t return for an unusually long time, and in that time Patches watched the drifters from his perch, high above in the shrine. It was amusing to watch the blind bird with snowy white hair and long ash-stained robes stumble around the shrine and stub her toes on the steps and walls. She would let out a breathy squeak each time she gently collided with something, feel around with her arms and finally take her place somewhere. No one spoke with her directly, all except the Ashen One, but there was one time Patches did descend from his perch to interact with her.

The Fire Keeper sat along the steps of the inner circular shrine, fiddling with a loose strand of thread from her robes and quietly hummed to herself. Upon hearing the shuffling of greaves, she lifted her head and called out, “Welcome home, Ashen One.”

But her small smile faltered. “Ah, thine footfalls art lighter than mine Ashen One.”

Her observation took Patches by surprise, considering he was taller and no doubt heavier than the Ashen One. He looked down at his outfit and realized it was the iron greaves and boots he wore that gave him that clunky armour sound, but the fabric shirt he wore on his torso and nothing else helped his footsteps sound lighter.

Patches let out a chuckle. “Huh. Not very blind for a blind girl, are we?”

The Fire Keeper visibly recoiled. “Thoust a wicked one; begone.”

“Aw, now, now,” he crouched low before her, levelling his eyes to where hers used to be. “what has that horrid Ashen Tart been telling you?”

“They told’th me of thy trickster ways, and how thee would betray thy own compatriots.”

“Trickster?” Patches couldn’t help the manic grin growing on his face. “Oh, absolutely. Spot on, in fact. Now, what’s all this about betraying my friends?” He mimicked a hurt tone. “I would never do such a thing, bird.”

“I don’t believe thee. I am told’th thee did cast mine Ashen One’s true friend down a well, and that yond thee donn’d his armour and pretended to be him.”

Patches playfully shrugged, not that the Fire Keeper could see it. “Alright, I admit, I did that. And how remarkably easy it was to get him to strip that laughable armour off - but I digress. Old boy and I made up. We’re all friends now!”

She didn’t fully believe that he made amends with the poor, jolly knight, but his truthful admittance is what caused the Fire Keeper to ease her suspicions of him… for now.

She craned her head to look up at him. Patches whistled and gave a little wave, and her head followed the sound to look straight ahead. She jumped slightly in surprise.

“Thou art a solitary being. What mad’eth thee come down hither?”

“Oh,” Patches rubbed the back of his bald head. “I had enough of being a fly on the wall to the goings on here. Thought I’d come down,” the Fire Keeper could hear the grin on the face in his tone. “stir up some trouble.”

The Fire Keeper’s lips contorted to a grimace of disgust. “Is’t within thy nature to disturb the delicate balance of those who seek’th solace hither?”

“Hear me now, bird,” he said. “I ain’t the one to meddle where his nose don’t belong. You’re better off giving that question to your beloved Ashen Tart.”

“Just as thee has’t nay business stripping yond po’r knight of his armour, and disturbing our contenders.”

The toothy, almost malicious, grin fell from Patches’ face for a moment, before awkwardly chuckling, “Not one to pick up on sarcasm, are you? I didn’t actually mean I’d cause trouble-“

From her seat on the semi-eroded stone steps, the Fire Keeper stood to her full height. Not as tall as Patches, her figure and aura possessed a cursed air around her, and managed to send a fright through the tall pale man. “Thou shan’t spread any mischief whilst thou take’th shelter in the shrine, lest thou wishes to face wrath.”

Patches held up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright! I read you - loud and clear!”

Satisfied with his answer, the Fire Keeper took her seat once more on the eroded steps. “Then thou art most welcomed.”

But Patches remained to stare down at the Fire Keeper. After several, silent moments passed, the Fire Keeper’s idle humming halted. “Oh, does’t the vagrant have more to say?”

“Yeah.” His light and spirited tone evaporated to a dour mood. “I see a lot that goes on here.”

“Oh?” The Fire Keeper entertained him.

“And I see how that Tart treats you.” He said with a vindictive tone. “The way they slap you around with every new shiny toy they find. You don’t have to take that.”

At his confrontational language, the Fire Keeper recoiled slightly. “I am surprised thee care enow to approach’th me, but it doest not matter, for I cannot die so easily.”

Patches huffed at her complacent attitude of remaining nothing more but a servant to the next Lord, and a training dummy. “Death doesn’t matter much, but you’ve still got feelings. How’d that last beheading feel? Not great, eh?”

The Fire Keeper pursed her lips, and remained silent for a moment, before speaking in a quieter voice, “I… Mine own feelings matter not. I understand’th mine place in the ordinary; what mine fate hast becometh.”

Patches went to speak, but the soft, shaky voice of the Fire Keeper kept his words at bay. She clutched at the worn fabric of her ash-stained sleeves. “Wicked One,” she sounded pained. “prithee, grant me solitude.”

He hesitated, staring as she drew herself inward, but he knew when it was time to leave well enough alone. Wordlessly he stepped away, interested in the dark figure in armour that resembled a gargoyle peeking from the archway to spy down below, further into the shrine.

But the Fire Keeper called quietly after Patches. “Thy concern is appreciated, O Wicked One.”

Eygon of Carim - a knight dressed in armour that resembled some sort of horrific creature - watched a pale maiden, wrapped up in creams and whites, from above. Irina, the one Eygon was so devoted to, sat upon what seemed to be the only dry patch of stone in the moist darkness of the shrine’s lowest floor.

Patches had seen him before. He entered the shrine to visit her from afar a few times, merely to silently observe and see if she was alright in the care of the Ashen One. Once satisfied, he would sulk around the outside of the shrine before taking off somewhere else.

This visit didn’t seem to be like his others, Patches noticed from where he spoke with the Fire Keeper. Eygon moved slow and carefully, as not to disturb the joints in his armour too much. He didn’t call out to her, didn’t engage or make himself known. He stood in the shadows, spying on the poor blonde girl. Patches had no issue playing along with Eygon’s silent act.

It was after a few more moments of peering down at the nun, who slowly swayed her head and hummed, that Eygon stepped away from the arch and crossed his arms.

“What business have you to bother me?” His deep, rumbling voice flowed from the open mouth of the gargoyle helmet he wore. “Go kiss someone else’s ass. I’m not in the mood for your foolery.”

Patches tilted his head and smirked at the Carim knight. He knew exactly what that tone meant; he was defensive. Like he was caught in the act of doing something he’s ashamed of. “Know of me,” Patches kept his voice quiet, much like the knight’s own voice. “wittol?”

A low growl resounded from within Eygon. “You’ve made a number of enemies. Seems like you’re in the market for another one.” Eygon reached behind him, never moving his head from gazing at Patches, for his atrociously large hammer that leaned into the corner he stood in.

But there was something about Carim knights that Patches was intimately familiar with. Rude, crass and as prickly as they were, not often did they enact wrath upon others who caused petty offense.

Patches crossed his arms and shrugged. “All you knights with your maidens you’re all so devoted to - how’s a bloke not to think you don’t slave over her feet? But not you, eh?”

Patches stepped quietly, closer to the archway to gaze down at the nun, Irina. He pulled himself back to face Eygon. “Not with an evil creature like that.”

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Eygon whispered. “A pitiful failure. Nothing but an attraction to perverse darkness, but even a woman cursed as her deserves her dignity. Begone.”

Unbothered, Patches complied. “Alright, then. No sense in talking to you. Your lady down there,” Patches had begun to make his way towards the stairs that descended lower into the shrine. “seems more apt for conversation. Maybe I’ll-“

Eygon slammed his impossibly large hammer down dangerously close to Patches, kicking up clouds of ash and debris. His hammer shook the ground, and sent an ear-shattering bang echoing throughout the shrine.

“You won’t touch her.” Eygon seethed, lifting his head to stare directly into Patches’ eyes. “Not without a fight.”

“Ashen One?”

A soft voice called out, just loud enough for both men to hear. “Ashen One,” she called again. “is that you?”

Eygon hoisted the hammer back up the rest against his shoulder. “No, my lady. It’s only me.” He spoke louder towards the archway.

“Oh, Eygon,” her voice lifted in tone and sounded much happier than the dreary inquiry she had before. “it’s been so long since you came to visit me. Won’t you come here, please?”

Patches noticed the subtle way Eygon’s form turned frigid. A grin formed across his face, turning upwards in a most evil way. “What’s wrong? Don’t all you Carim knights dream of ravishing your lady? Or, is it that you’re right scared of her?” Patches purposefully forced out a laugh that dripped with venom. “Oh mate, you should’ve stopped being scared of the dark when you were a kid.”

“Say what you wish,” Eygon threatened in a low tone. “but I will kill you. Not now, but upon our next meeting I’ll separate the flesh from your oversized head. You’ll have wished you’d eaten your words.”

Eygon pushed past Patches, making sure to collide his armoured shoulder with his, and descended the stairs to where Irina spent her days.

Patches watched, silently above, in the shadow of the stone archway. The dark knight firmly planted the top of his hammer onto the ground, before kneeling before the pale nun. “What is it you needed, Irina?”

“Touch me, please.” Irina held up her hand in the blank space in front of her. “I- I have tremendous news.”

Eygon stared at the warm, soft palm Irina offered to him. She appeared simply angelic; the lit candles beside her created a heavenly glow around her in the dark, but all Eygon saw was the amplified darkness that plagued her eternally. He didn’t move, and was silent for too long.

Patches noticed his hesitation had turned into an uncertain withdrawal. It was clear to Patches now: this knight wasn’t just scared, he was terrified of her.

“Eygon? Where have you gone?” Irina’s outstretched arm faltered, but at his name, Eygon answered.

“I am here.” He pressed the palm of his gauntlet against her’s, and Irina’s fingers closed around his hand, feeling the intricacies of the design.

“It is you.” Irina whispered. “I am… I am glad it’s you. This Ashen One, he gave me a tome that felt most terrible against my fingers.”

Eygon stiffened. “Tell me you did not read it.”

Irina shook her head, and gave her knight a demure smile. “I did not. A woman - a witch - stopped me before I could. She guided my hand to a tome that tickled me with its radiance.” She gave a quiet, gleeful chuckle. “It’s bountiful light seems to have staved off the darkness that nibbles upon me. Perhaps my path towards becoming a Fire Keeper is not lost.”

A Fire Keeper. This information surprised Patches. He had assumed she was nothing more but a broken nun - a dirty cleric, but she was nothing of the sort.

“Eygon,” she started. “I know my curse wards you away from me, but the darkness is not in my presence. May I touch your skin?”

“...Are you so certain you feel the absence of the dark? Remember my oath to you.”

“I remember clearly. No, it seems gone. I feel positively elated.”

It was true that her smile turned up more than usual, and a healthy flush was present in her cheeks. Eygon pulled his hand away from hers to unclip the clasps of his gauntlet, and pulled it off to reveal his bare flesh. Experimentally, he placed only the pads of his fingertips against hers, then slowly enveloped her hand in his.

Irina let out a breathy gasp. “Oh, oh Eygon, you are so warm. I never could have imagined you felt this way. I can only wonder what you may look like.”

Patches grimaced at the sickly sweet scene unfold before him, and stepped away before he became a witness to the lovelorn fools’ potential union. Lovers were items that already made his stomach twist in knots, but secret lovers? He nearly vomited at the thought. There was one thing that stuck with him through all of that snooping; the corruption the new Fire Keeper nearly fell to by way of the Ashen One.

Perhaps the world could have done well with the loss of one more holy person, but the loss of a fire attendee? No, Patches knew where his hatred began and ended, and this betrayal was another strike against the Ashen One for him.

#Dark Souls #Dark Souls 3 #Unbreakable Patches #Firekeeper #Eygon of Carim #Irina of Carim #Ashen One #Eygon x Irina #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #Liver Writes #Cyntax_Error

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

Forget the world

I really really hope everyones okay at the moment. The world is truly fucking shit, but sending all my love, and it is okay to feel completely done at this point (I do hence why I wrote this instead of meeting my deadlines :/)

Summary: readerxtomholland -- pure fluff when everything gets a bit much for Y/n

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A third lockdown in the UK. More than 1000 deaths in a day. US capitol riots highlighting just how stark the white privilege is. The worlds a scary place and sometimes it gets too much. It’s good to be informed, to be politically and socially active, fighting the good fight… right? Well yes, but we are humans.

Humans are more complex than that. We ruminate we feel and we empathise. None of these issues have directly affected you, but that doesn't mean these things don’t hurt you - even a little. Bit by bit, a person can so easily get chipped away until there’s not a lot of fight left.

These daily 5 o’clock briefing, the prime minister in all his stupid oafish idiocy invading your living rooms with his persistent if oh so incorrect chat of ‘how well the UK has handled this crisis’. Then going on to spout more and more bad news. It was like a scheduled form of torture that Brits just had to through. And it just got a lot.

What didn’t help at all to you, was the fact your boyfriend was leaving for work again. You’d barely had him for two weeks before he was being whisked away in his private jet again. And even that time, it wasn’t really couple quality time… not by a long shot. Because of the complicated and ever-changing laws in the UK, you had both moved into his parents' house rather than being stuck just the two of you over Christmas. Don’t get the wrong impression, you lovvvveeeeeddddd his family - it was crazy, chaotic and infuriating in the best way.

That, however, didn’t get away from the fact you missed him. You missed lying in till the afternoon. You missed having breakfast for dinner after cooking it up in your skimpy pyjamas. You missed silence - of the two of you just coexisting. You missed your Tom.

SO fair to say you were not feeling particularly over-enthused on this overcast Tuesday morning. Somehow sensing this while you were still asleep, Tom chose not to wake you and instead crept out the room to go golfing with his brothers and dad for the last time before he left. Having woke up a couple of hours ago, you made the executive decision to just stay there - just feeling like the energy it’d take up to move was too torturous to expend. When Tom and the boys got back then, they immediately recounted the whole experience to Nikki - Harry showing off at his particularly good round - before Tom naturally started searching for you. His mum, being almost psychic, instantly noticed and just shook her head over Harry’s droning voice as she pointed upstairs. And with a thankful nod, he snuck away - if anything grateful for the escape.

“Love…. Love?” Tom hesitantly crept into the room, your body facing away and still wrapped like a burrito in the duvet. You rolled over and gave him a small smile, to which he grinned at and immediately leapt on to the bed. Land directly on your stomach. With force. You let out an ‘ooof’ as his not so petite body knocked all the air out of you, making you groan and recoil to your side as he laughed pitifully at you. “I missed you” He just grinned, worming his way from lying horizontally across you until he was lying completely on top of you his chin resting on your chest bone as he smiled at you. “And you thought you’d jump on me to show that?” “I couldn’t help it you just looked so peaceful” You quirked your head, not seeing his point. “And your not allowed to look like that without me!” He huffed, finally rolling off you as you giggled at his stupidity. “But seriously you good? Its 12 and you’ve not moved yet.” “Mhmm just… just.” “You're just just?” He teased, now leaning up on his elbow as he smiled down at you. “Exactly. I just can’t deal with today.” You sighed as you spoke, looking up to him with eyes as if asking him to help. It made his jokey and teasing demeanour take a serious turn, his eyebrows furrowing as he really inspected your face - as if trying to the find the answer written in small print under your nose. He whispered a ‘what do you mean’ asking you to go on. “I don’t know …it’s just lockdown and America and…and you going. I’m just self-pitying really.” “No” Tom stated rather adamantly, as he sat up and then pulled you up by the arms earning yet another groan from you as he interrupted your cocoon of warmth. “You're allowed to feel shitty because it is all actually very shitty indeed.” You rolled your eyes at that, even if you did agree because you didn’t want to be the mopey desperate girlfriend who can’t handle when he goes away. “Y/n/n I’m serious. The news and everything… it’s a lot and you're allowed to feel like you can’t comprehend whats going on.” In response you just nodded, averting your eyes away from his because, for no real reason at that moment, his eye contact seemed to be forcing you to cry. But the boy did not let up. Instead, he crawled up to you, his legs sandwiching yours as he kneeled in front of you. “And… I’m going to miss you a lot when I go.” Tom gently pushed your chin up so his locked eyeline with your watery ones that instantly started to overflow. Tom murmured an ‘oh love’ as he threw his arms around you, letting you cry into his shoulder - most probably ruining his new fancy golf shirt.

You stayed like that for some time, him gently hushing you and stroking the back of your messy bed head. Until you’d finally calmed into little hiccups and Tom arched back. He cupped his hands around your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tear tracks. “Let's have a just us day huh? We can… forget the world.” “Forget the world?” Your laugh was a little wet and sad sounding but it was music to Tom’s ears and only spurred him on more. “Yeh! Fuck the world. It’s just you and me and we can do whatever you want!” “You’re stupid” you just giggled, trying to hide your face because he had you blushing like a lovestruck teen… which was exactly how he made you feel. “I know! So come on what should we do… movie or something isn’t right because you still can think about- I got it!” He leapt off you and started looking around the room, first pulling the chair out from its position in the corner and then whipping the duvet cover off your legs. “TOM! what-“ “We are building a fort!” And his stupid grin said it all. It took next to no convincing before you were running downstairs with him, ransacking the sitting room of all blankets (earning you some comically quizzical gazes from his Dad and Sam) before running back up.

This stupid stupid boy that you had to pleasure of calling your boyfriend had you revert to a seven-year-old as the two of you attempted to construct this fort. Attempted being the keyword, it kept collapsing when one of you accidentally stubbed your toe on the chair holding all the structural integrity of your creation (*Tom). However, after a ridiculous amount of attempts you were adding the piste de resistance - aka fairy lights - to the interior while Tom set up a game of Harry Potter monopoly on the next floor you’d made.

And that’s how you burned the day away; laughing whilst getting overly competitive at your Harry Potter knowledge; ordering pizza that you forced Harry to delivery to the entrance of your fort from the front door (you even managed to make Harry knock on the makeshift blanket door, which had the two of you cracking up no end); generally just being stupid together. Before you knew it, the time had ticked to half eleven and the both of you knew it was time to bed down for the night. With a sigh, signifying the beginning of the end of Tom’s last day in the UK, you went to crawl out of the fort - expect your boyfriend had other plans. Rather, he yanked you back towards him so you almost fell into his front and then proceeded to roll you both, so now you were lying flat on the ground while he leaned above you. “You … little miss… are not going anywhere.” You hummed at him about to ask why, before being rudely interrupted as he pressed his lips against yours. You didn't fight it though, immediately relaxing into it and wrapping your legs round his waist to pull him impossibly closer. After a few moments, you broke the kiss staring up at him with the softest eyes. “Sorry I just had to stop you from ruining the moment.” He jibed, and again you went to scowl but were cut off by his soft lips on yours once again. Tom only pulled away when both of your lungs had started to burn a little, needing to come up for air. With a whisper telling you not to move, Tom bolted out the fort. You could hear him scurrying around in the room - to be honest, it sounded like he was ransacking it- before the big light was flicked off and he crawled back in in the darkness.

This time you’d learned your lesson, waiting patiently until he spoke first. “I got a surprise… it was uh- supposed to be for when I was already away but I think now works too” You couldn’t see his face through the darkness, but what you knew, either way, was the excitement that’d be on his face - he loved revealing stuff like this to you because he is, as previously mentioned a child. And then he flicked the switch and the interior of the tent was illuminated by a pattern of stars, projecting upwards and swirling around on the blanket roof. The sight had you audible gasping, this time the dim light it gave meaning Tom could see your eyes widen in delight. “Tom its-“ “Not as beautiful as you.”

Hell, you knew how fucking corny this was. And how if any of your mates ever recounted the story you’d be recoiling is dismay at the cliche-ness of it. But at that moment you swore your heart could burst, looking between the twinkling projections and Tom’s dimly glowing features - the blue light bouncing off his cheekbones and making him look just even more divine. “We are sleeping here tonight because I just don’t want this moment to end” You whispered making Tom chuckle as he lay back down next to you, letting you curl into his side and resting your head on his chest - so you were watching the swirling walls whilst listening to his heartbeat. “This fort… will always be ours.” He spoke lowly, reaching for your hands and entwining his fingers with yours slowly. “I’m going to mis-“ “Shhhhh” He blocked you from finishing the phrase, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before continuing. “ Don’t forget we’re forgetting the world yeh? It’s just you and me.” “Just you and me isn’t half bad.” You whispered, using your thumb to draw little meaningless patterns on the top of his palm. “No… not half bad at all.” His voice was so quiet, so calming he barely even used his voice - rather just breathing the words out as he squeezed you into his chest. You knew he was trying to make you fall asleep. This is what he always did, a kiss to the head, his voice barely existing, him squeezing you just a little tighter. But you didn’t want to. Because that meant that he’d leave when you woke.

You desperately tried to fight the waves of relaxation, trying to pay attention to each little swirl and tinkle of the projector but it was hypnotic, and that coupled with the steady beat of his heart had you soon losing the battle. Tom could tell you were fighting, Tom could always tell. So he gently shifted his arm under you baggy t-shirt, allowing Tom to trace little circles on your bare skin. That was enough to have force your eyes to become deadweights as they locked shut.

“I got you…I’ll still be here when you wake up” You hummed, pressing yourself into his side a little more. “‘hankyou for… for…” Tom grinned, knowing you weren’t going to make it to the end of the sentence. But that didn’t matter. At that moment, the only thing in the world that matters was having you in his arms.

“I’ll always forget the world when I’m with you.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #fluff

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gills-corn · 3 years

Text

Once there was a boy and a butterfly.

It wasn't a butterfly at first, of course - the boy picked up a lone caterpillar one scorching May morning and nursed it to adulthood. As it molted and grew wings and learned to fly, the boy played under the sun, showering in the sunshine and the summer rains.

The butterfly flew away, right out of a window and to the sky. The boy was outside, running around with a group of children his age, playing whatever their heart desired. He didn't even had the chance to say good-bye.

He cried himself to sleep that night, inconsolable. The next day, he's back on his feet after a friend gave him a cone of ice cream, as fickle as the summer day that shined down upon him.

He became just a boy, with no butterfly, but a boy who knows more about leaving and losing than the day ago.

The next years repeated the same way - a boy, alone in the universe, but bodies still orbited around him, people he knew loved him but he couldn't quite comprehend why or how. He had long forgotten is butterfly. People came and went - friends, classmates, family members - and he had learned how to cope. He had learned about the importance of them arriving, of them leaving, of them tracing a solitary mark on his life.

Still, the idea of having something you value so dearly, so tenderly is lost on him. But what does he know? He's sixteen and miserable and alone, not entirely friendless or lonely, but there's still a vacuum around him, warping around his from like a black hole.

"I don't think I'm capable of love," he had mentioned to his friend once, in the throes of drunkenness. There's a sad smile on his face, reminiscent of a boyhood not-so-lost but drifting away.

"You are. Everyone is," his friend answered, his eyes fluttering shut. He rested his head on the other boy's shoulder.

The silence rang through the boy's ears as other bodies slept around him, his friends that fancied themselves as rebels but didn't do more than sneak a few bottles of beers. He examined his friend's face and returned to his drink, his body thrumming.

He was nearly seventeen, crying in the bathroom, his heart threatening to burst out of his tight chest. A boy with no butterfly, no love to give, no best friend to hold onto, whether they're drinking, laughing, or exploring the blissful tragedy of teenage-hood.

He thought he knew how to say good-bye. He had practiced this all of his life - see you soon, hope you'll be okay and, in times of death, I'm so sorry for your loss. This was worse than death itself - it was something that was torn out of his life, like a page from a book, except the page was inked with memories he could never forget and things he wished he had said.

First there was sadness.

Then there was anger.

He tore out fistfuls of hair from his head. He threw away comic books they once shared, mixtapes they made for each other, notes passed around class, naughty and mischieveous and immature. He kicked his door and teared up because he stubbed his toe. He tore his curtains down and immediately repaired them, not wanting his mother to be more worried than she already is.

Finally, it was the numbness, the calm.

Everyone was too worried about him, too careful about the words they said. The hurricane had soon departed, he thought to himself, but everyone was afraid to start another one. He did not have the energy nor the time for it anymore. He had wasted enough time as it is. He had school to focus on, friendships he wanted to revive, apologies he had to give out.

He was trying to be a better person. But why did it feel like he's only making himself worse?

"He told me you thought you didn't know how to love," a friend told him. She blew a gust of smoke on his face from the cigarette she'd been smoking.

Something wrenches behind his ribcage. "Yeah."

"I'd say you were wrong," she replied. "You acted out because you love him. And you can't bear to see him leave."

"I know," he murmured. He raised his head. The familiar warmth of his friend's eyes, the slope of her nose, the crookedness of her teeth were all a gentle reminder of a childhood diminished but he hoped to cling onto it as much as he can. He tried to stop his voice from cracking as he added, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be. We're all upset. And sad. He's our friend since, like, forever. But the world goes on. If you don't catch up, you might just get left behind."

That was the thing he liked about this friend. She was never too gentle.

He was able to move onto seventeen without a hitch. His remaining friends helped him celebrate, throw a party, down a few shots. He made him realize that was able to love and he had been loving them since he knew them. And he knew they loved him back.

Seventeen felt new, fragile. Maybe he was just being overdramatic but he was getting closer to adulthood. He wasn't much of a child anymore, with overgrown limbs, unwanted hair and things he was not able to control, but the thought of moving to adulthood was too daunting. Sometimes, your past selves are the ones who leave and you must still know how to depart from them properly.

The universe goes on and he moves on. Slowly. But he's getting there. School was ending. The number of summers of spending with his friends was dwindling. Soon, there'd be university, jobs, apartments. A few years later, relationships, marriages, children would start to appear in his life and rubbed on his nose, whether he liked it or not. The future was vast, terrifying, like the expanse of the wide, deep space. He decided that he'd take on his last summer as a child, even though he had lost the title years ago.

He knew things left. He didn't always expected them to come back.

Everyone rejoiced at his best friend returning for the summer - everyone, that is, only his friends. They all were planning for their last hurrah before departing their own ways after the next school year. He didn't know how everyone just became happy and fun and excited as if his friend's loss didn't rip out a piece of his soul.

Summer was ruined. He should have known that days of fingers sticky with melted ice cream, skin smelling just like sunshine and jumps into creeks and pools were long gone. He stayed in his bedroom for as long as he can. He knew that with him coming back, he'd be leaving again.

"Are you avoiding me?" his friend asked him, lying side by side as they stared on the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

He was not able to get out of the end-of-summer sleepover. He did not want to disappoint his other friends and their powers of convincing were straight out of an telemarketer.

He breathes out, his heart rattling. "What do you think?"

"I'm sorry. I - I know you're still upset with me leaving."

"Well. That answers your question now, doesn't it."

"You can't hide from me forever. I can't handle it."

"Do you think I knew how to handle it when you walked away from my life?" he shot back.

Tears clawed at his throat and he felt something hot behind his eyes. He closes them, hoping to get out o this nightmare.

"I didn't have a choice. My dad got a promotion, my mom's unhappy with her job here - "

"You could have told me," he replied. His voice was quiet, pinched. "At least I could have prepared myself."

"Can we talk outside?" his friend whispered urgently.

The two of them stood up. They were both the same height now, all awkward limbs and unharnessed strength. His friend gleamed under the glow of the silver moon outside, his tears glossing on the tops of his cheekbones. He stretched his hand, beckoning him to come closer.

He had no choice but to take it.

That summer night was cold but everything else was bright. If they were seven years younger, they would have howled at the full moon and ecstatic that they had managed to be awake past midnight. Nostalgia gnawed through his heart like an unwanted termite. He clasped his chest as his friend sat on the grass, not minding the stains on his white pajamas. He sat beside him, listening intently to the silence.

"Do you still think you can't love anyone?" his friend answered.

"No, not anymore." He smiled. A little. "I realized that I actually love all of you. My parents. Even my little sister. I was just drunk and melodramatic."

His friend laughed quietly but in a way that was still distinctly his. "I get what you meant, though. Sometimes, I - I feel like there's just something missing and it makes you all hollow inside."

"But you still loved, right?"

"Yeah," his friend replied. "I have never felt more love. That was cheesy but it's true."

"You're right. Maybe truth is a little cheesy. Maybe we need a little cheese in our life."

"I am so, so sorry. I can't - I did not know what to tell you, really, that I was going to go."

"But you told Tom - "

"No, I meant you. It's just - just the thought of saying good-bye to you hurts. Hell, even physically. I did not want to lose you. Or anyone. But especially you."

"Well, you tend to lose people in your life. That's sort of how it works."

"But then I wouldn't know how to live."

"Don't say that. Losing people does not mean losing yourself, too."

His friend sighs. "I know. What I'm trying to say is - I didn't want to make you upset, disappointed, sad or whatever. I know what I did probably made you more like those things and I apologize. Really. It was selfish of me. I didn't want to think about you not being there right by my side."

"You were right." He sat up straighter. "I - I didn't know what to do with myself when you left. Losing people means losing a part of you, I know, but I never seemed to realize that you were such a large part in my life that it made me crumble."

"Remember the first time I gave you ice cream? We were like eight or whatever. It was from my savings from school. I wasn't actually full that time. You were just so sad and you loved ice cream so. . . I gave you a cone."

His eyes crinkled as he gazed upon his friend's open and vulnerable face. "My butterfly left the day before. Of course I was sad. But why did you do that?"

"You know how I always get you ice cream, right? You, only you. Always vanilla and chocolate in a wafer cone. Whenever you want one or whenever you're miserable, I give you an ice cream cone. Sometimes, there wasn't even any reason. I just gave you one."

"Yeah, but Kay and Rachel are lactose intolerant and - "

"I'm trying to say that you're special. To me. Ever since we met. And I can't - I did not know how to say good-bye. Especially to my favorite person."

They were grasping hands, sweat intermingling.

"I know. But we all have to, right? Eventually. But seems like I still need to learn that lesson."

"Why?"

"You're my favorite person as well and I - I can't bid you farewell for the second time."

"Well. We don't have to think about saying good-bye right now, you know. We can think of what we should be doing now."

"Like what? Sleep?"

"No." A beat passes, like a flap of a butterfly's wings. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

As their lips meet, bittersweet yet refreshing, filled with shed tears, unfurled emotion and whispered love confessions, they say hello and bid good-bye to each other again and again, like two butterflies floating in the air.

#fiction #short story #mlm #romance

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nalgenewhore · 3 years

Text

masterlist - ao3 - day five - day seven

<3<3<3

Elide stands in the doorway of her loft apartment, empty save for the cheap furniture that was already here when she moved in.

Her slender, sloped eyes fill with tears and she folds her arms across her body, her hands gripping the opposite sweater sleeve. She doesn’t hear or sense the person walking down the hall until they’ve wrapped their arms around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head, “You good?”

Tilting her head up, she looks into Lorcan’s dark, depthless eyes. “Kind of.” Elide leans into her fiancée and sighs shakily, her vision blurring. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“Me too,” Lorcan says, resting her chin on top of Elide’s head. “We had our first kiss here.”

Elide grins, “Yeah… we said our first ‘I love you’ here, too.” They’re silent for a long moment, thinking and reminiscing. Elide is the first to move. She turns in Lorcan’s arms and smiles up at her, “I think I’m ready to go now.”

Her fiancée drops her hand to Elide’s lower back. “Ok. We have time, you know. You don’t have to rush this. I know you loved your apartment. It was your home.”

Elide lifts onto the tips of her toes and kisses Lorcan gently, her hands looping around Lorcan’s neck. “I know.” She bumps her nose into Lorcan’s and pulls back slightly, so that they still share a breath. “But I’m ready to go. To our home.”

A happy grin steals across Lorcan’s face and she presses her lips to Elide’s. Elide melts against her, one hand sliding to Lorcan’s cheek. Lorcan’s teeth graze over her bottom lip and she sucks Elide’s lip into her mouth, licking her tongue over the small hurt. The motion pulls a moan from Elide’s throat.

When they pull apart, their chests rise and fall faster than usual. Elide sweetly pushes Lorcan’s hair back and steps away, bending down to pick up the last box. It has her most valued possessions, like movie ticket stubs from dates, a rock from the lake near her childhood home, a strip of photos from a photobooth. “It’s time.”

Lorcan nods and Elide slips the key off of her keychain. She leaves it on the counter and takes Lorcan’s hand, squeezing twice. Lorcan smiles and they walk down to her truck. Elide fits the last one in the truck bed next to the others. She walks around to the passenger seat and climbs in, grinning at her fiancée.

The dark woman’s eyes sparkle and she starts the engine, reaching over to turn Elide’s face, “I love you, Lee.”

Elide smiles and bites her lip, “I love you too, L.” She kisses Lorcan’s palm and pulls the hand on her face down to her lap. As Lorcan begins to drive, Elide opens her window and leans towards it, letting the golden, brilliant sun shine across her face.

The air is warm and sunshiney, coaxing a wide grin across her face. Lorcan glances over and smiles at the sight of her girl so happy. She lifts Elide’s hand and kisses her knuckles, resting their joined hands on the centre console.

Their new bungalow is only fifteen minutes away. Lorcan parks in front of the front gate and they step out, meeting by the tailgate.

For the next hour, they move all the boxes into the living room. Elide divides different sections that relate to the different rooms and stacks the boxes that Lorcan carries in in neat piles. When Lorcan tries to put a heavy box, labelled BEDROOM, down, Elide stops her, gasping like she’s committed some crime against humanity. “Oh my gods, Lorcan, were you even listening?! That’s the kitchen pile, bedroom stuff goes over there.”

Lorcan arches her brow and slowly puts the box down in its correct spot. “Lee…”

Elide looks at her and sighs, “Yeah. I’m just- I want it to be perfect.”

Lorcan snorts and slides behind Elide, sweeping her up in a tight hug. She nips at the skin beneath Elide’s ear and whispers, “It’s us, when are things ever perfect?”

“Put me down, you big bully!”

“Oh, now, no need to be rude,” Lorcan says, finally letting Elide free. She pivots sharply and frowns up at Lorcan, her arms angrily crossed. Lorcan steps forward and cups Elide’s face, lifting it up. She strokes her thumbs over Elide’s strong jaw, “Sweetheart.”

“Lorcan.”

“I think you should step back for a couple minutes, maybe eat something, drink some water.”

“Stop trying to baby me.”

Lorcan clicks her tongue, “I am not babying you, I’m taking care of the woman I’m marrying in three months.” She bends her head to press a series of soft kisses across Elide’s face. “I got this. Go for a drive, or something. Just get out of here.”

Elide is still frowning as she begrudgingly agrees, “Fine. You’re probably right.” She closes her eyes and sighs through her nose. When she opens her eyes, she looks up at Lorcan and nods, offering her an apologetic grin. “Thank you. For taking care of me.” Elide stands on her tiptoes and kisses the sensitive spot beneath Lorcan’s jaw.

Lorcan rubs Elide’s back, “You’re very welcome.” For a moment, they remain frozen in their gentle moment. Elide rests her face in the hollow of Lorcan’s neck, breathing in that cedar perfume that is so familiar to her. Lorcan’s arms loosen, and Elide calmly steps back, the frown melted from her face.

She takes Lorcan hands and presses her lips to Lorcan’s knuckles, “I’m going. I’ll get us food.”

Lorcan grins and kisses Elide’s forehead, “Will you get me a coffee?”

“I will,” Elide promises, walking backwards towards the door after she takes the keys out of Lorcan’s pocket. Once she reaches the door, she turns and flashes Lorcan a wide grin, the freckles on her cheeks shifting, “Be back soon, babe.”

“Yeah, not too soon,” Lorcan warns, slowly making her way to the open door. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, hon.” Elide blows her a kiss and waves her fingers. Lorcan smiles and closes the door, breathing out a sigh of relief. With Elide gone, she can actually get things done.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and opens the calling app. Lorcan calls the person she always calls.

It rings for a while and Lorcan waits patiently, knowing exactly what the golden nightmare is doing.

“Salvaterre,” Aelin purrs, “how can I help you today?”

“Feel like distracting Lee?”

Aelin laughs, “She still freaking out about the move?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Lorcan leans to the side, glancing out of the living room window. She sees the truck becoming smaller and smaller. “I made her leave for food so that gives us, like… half an hour at most.”

On the other end of the line, Aelin hums in contemplation. “Ok… I’ll see where she’s at and intercept and I’ll send the cavalry to you.”

Lorcan watches the truck disappear around the corner. “‘t’s nice to know that you can be helpful once in a while.”

Aelin sniffs, “I like being unpredictable. Anyhoozles,” Lorcan hates that word, “I’m off. I’ll bring her back in, what, six hours?”

“Yep. See you then, Ash.”

Aelin says good-bye and they both hang up. Lorcan opens Spotify and scrolls through her playlists, smiling when she sees the new one Elide has to have made. It’s title simply with the date it was created. She presses shuffle play and puts it down on the fireplace mantel.

The first song that plays is upbeat and fast. Lorcan recognises it almost immediately and a smile pulls at her full lips.

I can’t remember when we met because she didn’t have a top on… top on…

I improvised a ‘lil bit - she said my references were spot on… spot on…

Softly, Lorcan starts to sing along, “‘Can I take you for a drink?’ She said, ‘Oh god, I’ll have to think, ‘cause we’re mates it doesn’t feel right?’”

And I said “It’s cool” and “I was messing”...

But it’s true, yeah it’s you

You’re the one that makes me feel right…

By the time she’s listened through seven more songs, Lorcan has unpacked the kitchen boxes. She lifts her head when she hears three obnoxious voices and frowns out the window, watching her brothers walk up to the front door.

She loves them, and they’re the closest thing to family that she has, but… they're just so irritating.

“Ay, yo, Salvaterre! Where you at?”

Lorcan pauses her music and walks into the living room, clicking her tongue, “Take your shoes off, you animals.”

They all dutifully take their shoes off and stack them to the side. Fenrys bounds over, his afro bouncing. “Hey, man, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Lorcan says, accepting the obligatory hug Fenrys traps her in. A reluctant smile appears on her face and she hugs him back, “How are you?”

“Same old, same old,” Fenrys replies, bouncing back and looking around. “So, where do you need us, boss?”

“Uh…” Lorcan thinks as she daps Rowan up. “I don’t know yet. The kitchen is done, so… any place, I guess.” Fenrys nods and sets off determinedly to the boxes taking up most of the living room space.

Connall claps Lorcan’s back as he passes, “I’ll supervise.”

“And I’ll super-supervise,” Rowan says, grinning widely when Connall and Fenrys squawk in offence.

“Oh, I see you just let anyone in your house, huh?”

Lorcan turns when she hears her cousin’s voice, sharing the same dry grin, “Yeah, you know Lee would kick my ass if I turned the strays away.”

Vaughan slings his arm around her shoulders and rests his head against hers. “How’d you convince her to leave?”

“Reason. And I sent G to stall her,” Lorcan says.

He snorts and soon they’re all unpacking boxes. Lorcan tells them to leave the bedroom and office boxes alone. The latter are Elide’s, and Lorcan knows that she’ll want to fix it just so. As for their bedroom, Lorcan wants to put it together with the woman she shares it with.

The sun has just begun to dip beneath the horizon when they’re finally finishing up. Lorcan stares at a picture of her and Elide, wondering if she should move it elsewhere.

“Lor? You ok?”

She snaps her head to the side. She forgot she was alone for a moment. “Yeah, I’m ok.” Lorcan looks around, her brows raising. Everything is unpacked. It looks like their home now. She smiles a rare smile, the one where both her dimples show. “It looks… incredible, guys. Thank you, this… it meant a lot, or whatever.” Her shoulders start to bunch up, tense. Lorcan has never been comfortable with praise or affection, but she tries. Elide makes it easier.

The boys mumble ‘You’re welcome’s, equally unused to it as she.

Rowan’s phone dings, so he pulls it out. When he sees the text Aelin sent him, he chuckles, “Apparently Aelin cannot stall Elide any longer. They’re on their way here, be here in… ten minutes.”

“Right, well, that’s our cue,” Connall says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’ll let you surprise your girl and stuff.”

Unwillingly, Lorcan feels her cheeks heat. As Fenrys walks out, he catches her blush and laughs, “Aww, she’s blushing. Who knew that Hellas’ heir had feelings?”

She reaches out and slaps him upside the head, “Yeah, keep pointing it out, Fen. We’ll see if I don’t beat your dumb ass.”

“Easy, easy,” Vaughan says, stepping between them and gesturing for Fenrys to leave as fast as he could. “Cool it, killer. We’re just saying that it’s, you know, it’s nice to see you like this.”

Lorcan steps back, her spitfire anger calmed. She lets a small smile show, “Thanks. It’s… it’s Elide.” Her smile grows softer and the boys laugh as they file out to their cars. Lorcan leans against the porch column, joking with them as they leave. “I’ll see you guys later.”

She waves and walks back inside, anxiously pacing in front of the door. Her phone rings and she snatches it out of her pocket, accepting the call before she sees who it is. “Hello?”

“Hi, honey,” Elide says. “I’m almost home. I’m so sorry you had to do everything alone, I saw Aelin and she needed to do a bunch of things.”

“Don’t worry about it. You had a good day, right?”

Elide sighs, “Yeah. Honestly, I’ve just been so caught up with the move and the wedding. It was nice to not think about any of it today.”

“I’m glad,” Lorcan says. “Are you going to be home soon? I miss you.”

Her fiancée laughs, “Needy, needy. I’ll be there soon. Love you, L.”

“Love you too, princess.” Lorcan pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call. She sits down on one of the armchairs to wait and idly takes a book off of the nearest shelf. Flipping past the first few pages, Lorcan settles in and rests her chin on her fist.

Headlights shine through the front window and they’re nothing but a nuisance to her until she realises who it is. Lorcan puts the book back and stands, crossing to the front door. She opens the door as Elide climbs out of the truck, a bag of takeaway in her hand. She lofts it, smiling ruefully, “Will you forgive me for abandoning you today? I got you your favourite.”

Lorcan grins as Elide walks up the stone pathway. “I might.”

Elide steps onto the porch, “We can eat and then start unpacking the rest?” She doesn’t wait for Lorcan’s response before she walks past her and pushes the door open. “I– it’s all done. How is it all done?”

Lorcan follows her in and looks around proudly. “I might’ve asked Aelin to stall you. And I called in the cavalry.” She tucks Elide into her side, “They really are helpful when you tell them exactly what to do.”

Her fiancée laughs tearfully and puts their food down so she can walk around, her eyes bright. “This… this is exactly what I wanted.”

Elide spends the next half hour looking around and getting used to their new home. She pokes around the living room and the kitchen too, fawning over the seemingly thousands of potted plants they have.

Lorcan watches with an adoring expression, completely entranced by everything Elide does.

Spinning, Elide holds her hands out to Lorcan. “Come.”

As always, Lorcan does as Elide tells her and stands up from the table chair she was sitting on. Lorcan takes Elide’s hands and looks down at her, one brow arched, “What is it, Lee?” Without a word, Elide starts to swing and sway. Lorcan follows warily, still unsure what Elide is trying to do. “Princess…”

“Just dance with me, love,” Elide says.

Lorcan hums in understanding and lifts Elide’s hands to her shoulders. Hers loosely rest on Elide’s waist and Lorcan begins to dance, leading Elide around their cosy kitchen. Elide beams and presses herself forwards, her head tipped against Lorcan’s chest. Lorcan’s heart trips over itself and she bends her head to hide her smile in Elide’s dark hair. The bergamot shampoo she uses clings to the thick, rich tresses.

The only music is their soft feet padding and sliding across the colourfully tiled floor. Elide grins wildly when Lorcan spins her out. Her head tips back and the silver light of the moon washes over her ethereal face.

Lorcan’s breath catches in her throat. She wants to be consumed by Elide. In near reverence, Lorcan cups Elide’s face. She tilts it back, slowly marking every feature. “You…”

“What,” Elide laughs, her hands squeezing Lorcan’s waist.

“The moon looks just right right now,” Lorcan murmurs, delicately tracing the way the light slides over Elide.

Elide’s smile turns tender and loving. She takes Lorcan’s hand and silently leads them into the backyard. They sit on the cool grass, Elide leaned against Lorcan’s chest, sitting between her legs.

“So,” Lorcan begins, her lips brushing against the shell of Elide’s ear, “is it everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Elide shakes her head, “No. I’ve only ever wanted one thing. And I've already got it.”

“Oh, really? Care to tell me what it is?”

“You,” Elide says, simply. “A life with you, a home…”

“And now we have a home.”

“No,” she shakes her head and turns, kneeling between Lorcan’s spread legs. “Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“That you are my home.” Elide holds Lorcan’s face in her hands like the most rare of presents, “And you always have been.”

<3<3<3

an: all i want in life. is domestic elorcan.

@ladyverena @ladywitchling @mythicaitt @sassyhobbits @darklesmylove @julemmaes @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones @highladyofthegentry @darlinminds @nahthanks @sjmships @eyllweambassador @flamingveritas @adelzd-bookblr @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22 @firestarsandseneschals @the-regal-warrior @empress-ofbloodshed

#femslash february #fem!elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #fem!lorcan salvaterre #isa writes lesbian shit #nalgenewhore #i luv them. so much.

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 2

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Thank you all so much for your thoughts and comments. I enjoy them immensely. I thought this was all going to be from Rowan’s POV, but... I was wrong. CW: Drinking, swearing.

The first Monday after Ashryver Playland opens is always Aelin’s favorite day of the summer. It’s a silly tradition her grandparents started, but it’s been a part of her life as long as she can remember. That very first Monday after the park’s first successful week, the Ashryver Galathinius clan opens up their summer home to the Playland’s staff and families for an all day pool party and barbeque.

Summer has always been Aelin’s favorite season. It means spending three months of pure bliss in her summer home, overlooking the waters of Terrasen from her bedroom balcony. And there’s something about Ashryver’s opening week barbeque that always manages to sets the tone for her summer. Summer doesn’t really begin until the barbeque begins. It’s always marks her first something.

When she was eleven, Aelin met her first real best friend, Dorian – one of the board member’s sons. She’d left the party to hide in the music room, trying to teach herself how to play her favorite Death Cab for Cutie song on the large grand piano, when he wandered in, singing on top of her stumbling melody line with a flawless unbroken tenor. He’d flashed her a giant smile and pushed his floppy dark curls out of his face and sat down on the bench next to her. They’d been best friends ever since. And the firsts only continued from there.

As Aelin finishes drawing a perfect cat eye with her liquid eyeliner she wonders what first awaits her this summer.

“Aelin, ten minutes til guests.” Her mother, Evalin, walks past her open bedroom door and does a double-take. “Wowww, someone looks especially nice today,” her mom says with a playful gleam in her eye. “Might I ask who you’re dressing up for?” she asks, taking in Aelin’s white eyelet sundress and full face of makeup. “Because I know this certainly isn’t for Dorian. Wisely.”

“I heard that,” Dorian says, bounding up the last few steps and onto the second floor landing. He sees Aelin and grins that very same grin he gave her that first day he spotted her a decade ago and takes off running. Aelin squeals as Dorian hugs her from behind and swings her around, lifting her off her feet.

“Dor, put me down, I just finished doing my hair!” Aelin says, shrugging him off, but she returns his smile fondly, even as he flops down onto her perfectly made bed, making himself comfortable and kicking off his flip flops.

“You do look suspiciously nice, Ace. What’s with the dress and the hair? Aren’t you going to swim?” Dorian asks stretching his arms up and placing them under his head.

Aelin ignores him and goes back to finishing her makeup. She uncaps a crimson red lipstick and leans into the mirror to apply it when –

“You know if you’re actually looking to make out with someone tonight then red lips probably isn’t the right choice.”

Aelin slides her eye to the boy on her bed and then straightens up again, putting the red lipstick away. He does have a point. Dorian bolts upright, eyebrows raised.

“We’re making out with someone tonight? Who?” Dorian asks, poking Aelin’s thigh with one of his toes.

Aelin’s cheeks flush as she remembers the name of the staff member she so thoroughly stalked the other night. So thoroughly, in fact, that she’s actually embarrassed about it. But also, who has a public Facebook profile these days? Rowan Whitethorn, that’s who.

When Aelin realized all she had to do was ask her five year old nephew for the name of the man who rescued him, she was easily able to find the man on the RSVP list for the barbeque. And from there, she sat in front of her computer for hours, soaking in every last detail she could find. Grew up in Wendlyn, went to school at Mistward and majored in computer sciences and graduated four years ago. His interests include photography and fitness and baking (what man enjoys baking and posts pictures of it?).

Aelin is extremely curious as to how he ended up working at Playland. A man with that kind of degree doesn’t usually find himself ripping ticket stubs, but she’s not complaining about it. Aelin really enjoys looking at his face. And his arms. And his back. She’s anxious to talk to him today, which is annoying. Aelin is never anxious around men. She’s fun and flirty and confident, but one look at Rowan had her excess nerves dancing in circles and turning her into kind of a bitch. She’s hoping her second impression is a lot better. Hence, the dress. And the makeup.

“We’re making out with no one.” Aelin shoots a warning glance in Dorian’s direction as she puts on a light pink lip stain.

“You and Chaol didn’t get back together, did you?” Dorian asks, and Aelin cringes.

“Of course not.” She turns to Dorian as she puts on the final touch – her favorite gold hoop earrings. “You don’t think your best friend would have told you if we’d gotten back together?”

“I don’t know, that last break up nearly took us all out, so if we could not repeat that, that’d be great.” Dorian stares at her, willing her to fess up, but Aelin refuses to give him anything in return. It’s way too early to tell Dorian anything.

“All right, then,” he drawls in a silly British accent. “Keep your secrets.”

Aelin sticks out her tongue as her mom calls out from downstairs, “Kids! Party guests are here!”

“Twenty-four-years old, and we’re still fucking kids,” Dorian grumbles as the pair make their way down the grand front staircase. Aelin hops up onto the wooden banister and rides it all the way down to the bottom, shouting “Catch me!” to Dorian as he runs and chases her to the foyer.

Evalin scolds them, but there’s no real bite to it. Aelin fixes her banister-swept hair and makes her way out to the front stairs where she and her parents will greet all the staff members and their families. Her parents are all about making the Playland employees feel welcomed, and they make a point to learn each and every one of their names. Plus, they’re a stickler for etiquette. Aelin can’t remember a time when she wasn’t on the front steps to welcome party guests as they arrived.

“I’ll meet you out back in… an hour-ish?” Aelin tells Dorian. “Steal me a bottle of pink champagne?”

Dorian bows at the waist. “Yes, your majesty.” He chuckles softly when she flips him off.

Aelin is the last to join her family. Her parents and her brother, for all intents and purposes, Aedion, already perched and ready to welcome the first wave of guests.

An hour later and Aelin’s jaw already hurts from smiling. She’s shaken so many hands and met so many people and made polite conversation with staff members from years past, but there’s still one face that hasn’t shown yet, and Aelin is having a hard time not showing her disappointment. He RSVPed yes, which means he should be here. Not showing up would be very rude. Right?

Aedion shakes out his hands and cracks his neck loudly. “Who’s ready for a drink?”

Aelin is reluctant to leave the front stairs. Leaving the front stairs means they’re finished greeting people at the party, which means that party guests have stopped arriving, and she’s not ready to admit that defeat. She gives one last wistful glance down the long empty driveway before giving in.

“Yeah, I could use a large drink,” Aelin yawns, leaning into her big brother’s shoulder.

“You’re not allowed to be tired,” he says with a laugh, squeezing her arm. “You are a sprightly youth and don’t have a ten-year-old and a five-year-old waking you up every morning at the crack of dawn to fight about watching Cars or Disney Fam Jam.”

Aelin looks up at him. “That’s not a real thing.”

“I assure you, it is.”

“This guy needs a drink,” Aelin says loudly as she and Aedion make their way out to the back patio where the party is really happening, and Aelin relaxes a tiny bit. So what if Rowan isn’t coming and she got all dressed up for nothing? She’ll look extra cute in pictures this year. She’s here with her family on the first real day of summer, and she’s determined to have a good day, regardless.

She takes in the scene around her – everyone seems to be having the best time. Caterers mill around the stone patio, holding out trays of grilled meats and veggies. At the far side of the patio is a long bar with an ample crowd around it. Champagne is being popped and spirits are being poured, and there’s endless bounds of chatter and laughter from all directions. In the middle of it all, the pool is filled with children and adults alike, playing games and doing handstands and lounging on floats.

The edge of the pool fades into the perfect view of the ocean. Aelin takes a deep breath as she watches the waves break against the shore. She listens to the gulls cawing overhead and inhales the salty sea breeze. Despite her small bout of disappointment, Aelin is happy.

Aedion’s two kids squeal for his attention from the pool.

“Dad! Auntie Ae!” Evie calls from the far end of the pool, her usual strawberry blonde ringlets sopping wet around her shoulders. “Watch me dive!”

Evie dives into the side of the pool, her dolphin arms in perfect form as she splashes into the water. She emerges with a giant smile on her freckled face.

“Good job!” Aedion beams. “Okay, drinks, now,” he whispers to Aelin, guiding her toward the bar.

“Where’s your wife?” Aelin asks, looking around for the green eyed brunette, who’s usually hovering around her children.

Aedion points ahead, and sure enough the woman in question stands at the front of the bar, looking insanely glamorous in a black one piece with a sheer leopard kaftan, taking shots of tequila with Aelin’s favorite returning staff member, Elide.

“Lysandra brought our babysitter with us today,” he says with a devious smile and snakes his way through the crowds to wrap his arm around his wife’s waist.

“Aelin, come do shots!” Elide pulls Aelin up to the bar, her outstretched hand helping her weave her way through the throngs of buzzed staff members. “We’re celebrating my promotion!”

“Ellie is officially manager level this summer.” Lysandra and Elide raise their newly filled shot glasses and hand one each to Aelin and Aedion respectively. Aelin hates tequila but loves Elide, so she clinks glasses and downs the alcohol quickly, grabbing a lime and sucking as much of the juice out of it as she can.

She shudders and Aedion punches her in the shoulder playfully. “Lightweight.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and reverts the topic back to Elide. “So, big shot manager. Does this mean you’re spending all your time with Lorcan now?” Aelin raises her eyebrows, knowing about Elide’s not so small crush on the stoic manager. “Long nights, just the two of you, arranging schedules in the soft romantic light of the Playland breakroom?”

Elide covers her face with her hand and screws her eyes shut. “Oh my god! No! No that is not what is happening at all.”

“Your mouth says no, but your blush says – ‘Yes, Lorcan, yes!’” Aelin teases, poking at Elide’s rosy cheeks. Elide slaps Aelin’s hands away.

“I just had three tequila shots, of course my cheeks are red.” Elide’s hands go to her cheeks, covering them as much as she can, trying to will away the warm flush creeping over her face. “You’re a monster, Aelin. That’s not what’s going on with Lorcan,” she hisses.

“What’s going on with me?” Lorcan asks, approaching from out of nowhere with a beer in his hand, and if possible Elide’s blush grows even deeper.

“Nothing!” Elide shouts, exasperated. “I’ll be right back. Be good, Aelin.” She throws Aelin a warning glare as she stalks off, and Lysandra and Aedion bite back their laughter as a bewildered Lorcan muses out loud—

“Did I say something?”

“No,” Aelin says, turning all her attention to Lorcan. “Elide was just saying how excited she is to work as a manager with you.”

Lorcan’s face lights up as he takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, she’s been a huge help so far. Especially with such a new staff this year.”

“Yeah… a lot of newbies this year.” Aelin pauses, wondering if she should probe Lorcan about Rowan. It wouldn’t do any harm, right? “Anyone giving you any trouble?”

“Nah,” Lorcan shakes his head and pushes a long piece of hair behind his hair. “But you know me. I like them to think they’re all giving me trouble, so they act accordingly.” He snorts, amused with his own management technique. “There’s one new guy who is so jumpy around me. I love it.”

“You’re evil,” Aelin laughs.

“I prefer diabolical,” Lorcan replies. “Ah, and it looks like he just arrived,” Lorcan continues with a grin. “Want me to introduce you, so you can see it up close?”

Lorcan points in the direction of the sliding doors that lead out to the patio, and there, in all his tall blonde and board-shorted glory stands Rowan. Finally. But Aelin’s heart drops. Because Rowan isn’t alone. He’s arrived with a girl.

~*~*~*~*~

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#aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic #cruel summer au #amusement park au #charincharge writes #aelin galythinius

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sir-adrien-swagreste · 4 years

Text

Shipping with Myself - A ML Fanfic

(Based on the following post: <Click Here> )

It was a normal Akumaless day in Paris. Adrien Agreste was busy practicing the Piano when he was talking to Plagg about the possibilities of someone discovering his Identity as Chat Noir.

“Hey Plagg, do you think there’s anyone who thought about me being Chat Noir?”

“Kid, if that happened that reporter girl from your school would be on top of it ASAP. You’re good kid.”

“I don’t know....Oh I know! Let’s search online and see if anyone has tried to search up my and Chat Noir.”

Adrien goes to his computer at his desk and searches “Adrien Agreste Chat Noir”. The results were a little shocking for him as he got 1,000+ results. The first link brought him to a Fanfiction called “A Chatastic Night”. Curious, he clicked onto the link to see what it was about. As he began to read it, he couldn’t help but be impressed with how well the Author nailed Chat Noir & all of his Puns. Unfortunately for our Sunshine, his intrigue was going to shift to pure shock.

“Ok, I’m just getting out of the Shower when Chat arrived.....wait why does Chat have a Red Rose in his Mouth?”

Plagg is watching his child read this clearly lewd Fanfic while trying not to laugh & is kinda curious to see how far it goes.

“Chat walks towards the partially dressed Model and begins to undress himself as he grabs the Chatastic Model & gives him a passionate kiss. Chat then grabbed the towel wrapped around Adrien and....”

“OH MY GOD!!!!” Adrien shouted!

“Bwahahahahaha oh my god!” Keep reading! I got to hear how this goes! Let’s see “Adrien then grabbed Chats tail and pulled it off while whispering in his Ear “Purr for Daddy”. Kid.....this is Unreal! Also this has been read by 50,000 + people”

“PLAGG SHUT UP!!! OMG OMG OMG! Ok it’s no big deal. I just have to close the page, clear my history & no one will ever...”

“Adrien? I heard you scream. Is everything ok”

Adrien stopped in his tracks immediately. It was Ladybug. She was standing just outside his window. She walked into see how Adrien was doing while also trying to stay calm as she was I her crushes room.

“M’L..I mean Ladybug! I’m rood..I mean I’m good. I just uhhh stubbed my toe. That’s all. No worries here.”

Ladybug sign in relief. “Glad to hear it. I thought that maybe an Akuma showed up or something. I’m glad to see that you’re so fine..I mean that you are okay. I better....”

Ladybug paused as if she was in deep thought. Adrien was curious to see if she was ok when he realized that she was looking at his computer screen. With a Raunchy Chat Noir X Adrien Agreste Fanfic open on his screen. Adrien suddenly began to panic.

“LADYBUGITSNOTWHATITLOOKSLIKE!! I-I-I-I Just found the link by accident. I wasn’t reading this becau..”

Ladybug was about as red as her costume. Unable to know what to say she bolted out of the window screaming that she had to run! Adrien fell over in defeat and anguish. Not only does his Lasy think he likes someone else, but it a guy and more importantly it’s himself! Plagg came out of hiding u able to hold it in any longer.

“OH MY ME!! THIS IS TOO MUCH!! THIS IS ALMOST BETTER THEN CAMEMBERT!!”

Adrien proceeded to hide himself under his pillow and remained in his room for the rest of the day.

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, Ladybug silently arrived home and transformed back into her civilian form and was about to follow suit and crawled into bed hugging a pillow while screaming.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Asked Tikki

“Ok? OK?!? NOO!! I’m not okay!! Adrien is in love with Chat Noir!!”

Marinette began to tear up. Marinette reaches out to her laptop and began typing onto it. The page brought her to a website with the User “The Y-Bug”. In the links of things on the users page included a certain link. A link to a Fanfic by that very Author. The link was to none other then “A Chatastic Night”.

“Why did I have to make that stupid Fanfic?!? What if Adrien finds out that I wrote that?!?”

Tikki attempted to comfort her Master while also trying to figure out why Adrien was on that page to begin with since she knows Chat & Adrien are one and the same.

——————————————————————————

Several days pasted and Adrien was not to be seen in school at all. Apparently he was sick and was unable to come to school. Everyone was concerned, but Marinette was panicking since she thinks it was because of what happened.

When she went home she immediately walked up to her room and sat by her computer to quickly get all of her work done and retire early for the night.

“Ugh! This is the worst!”

Suddenly she heard a ping come from her computer. Apparently it was from a User from the Fanfiction site who went by “SwagChat”. They claimed that their Agreste/Noir Fic was really well made & had sent them a link to a Fanfic of their own. Trying to get her mind off of what happened, she decided to give it a read. Maybe this would help make her feel better.

The title of the Fic was called “A Spotty Situation”. It stared Ladybug as the Main Character & went through the Adventures between her and Chat Noir. Seeing this helped put a smile on her face. She was also impressed that the Author has her character down to a T.

“Whoever this is must be a real big Ladybug Fan.”

She continued reading the Fanfic. Apparently the Ladybug in this wanted to find herself a new style for her Super Suit but was having dificulties getting ideas. Ladybug then mentions one of the people she once saved who she knew was also a Rising Star in the Fashion World. The person she was going to was none other then Paris’ own, Mari eye Dupain Cheng.

“....Marinette?!? That’s me!!! Why am I in this. Also Rising Star?!?”

Marinette was both shocked and also flattered that whoever wrote this thought so highly of her. As Marinette continued to read the fanfic, Tikki was listening and reading from behind. Tikki was also curious as to how this individual knew her and Ladybug so well. This is when a sudden thought dawned onto her.

“No way.....it couldn’t be....”

In the fanfic Ladybug & Marinette apparently became fast friends. Marinette happily helped Ladybug come up with ideas for a new style for her Suit. Marinette asked Ladybug if she could take a few measurements & Ladybug allowed. As Marinette was taking Ladybug’s Measurement, she accidentally tripped and fell on top of Ladybug.

“OMG Ladybug, I’m so sorry are you al..”

Marinette stopped as her eyes suddenly locked with Ladybug. Both were silent, both of their hearts began to race and both started to get a little Red in the face.

“It’s...ok. Uhh....I....I....”

A shout can’t from outside. Soulds like there was an Akuma Attack going on. Ladybug quickly collected her thoughts as she and Marinette got up and Ladybug prepared to leave. Before she left, Marinette called out to her.

“Ummm will.....will I see you again Ladybug?”

Ladybug began to blush just as Marinette had.

“Of...of course. Can’t wait to see you again!”

Ladybug then left in order to stop the Akuma that was reeking havoc.

Marinette still red in the face with her heart feeling like it was going to leap out of her chest.

“See you soon.” A soft smile appeared as she said this. End of First chapter of “A Spotty Situation”.

—————————————————————————-

Marinette just finished reading this with a face so red it put her Ladybug Suit to shame.

“What The Hell Is This?!? Why is there a Marinette x Ladybug Fanfic here. And Who The Hell is SwagChat?!? OMG I swear if this is Chat, I will kick his fine ass!! But even if this was him it’s not like he’d know that this was my user.”

Tikki remained silent. (“Well you’re not incorrect.” “Plagg, this was your idea! I’m sure of it! When I see you, we will have words!”)

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile at the Agretes Mansion, Adrien was sitting at his desk in his pajamas with a flush face. In truth he was actually a little under the weather although that didn’t make him guilt free. Not long before, he had just finished Writting the first part of a MariBug Fanfic. “Why did he choose Marinette?” To him, she was his everyday Ladybug. It felt somewhat fitting to use her. Plus she knew Ladybug and Chat Noir so it wasn’t too far fetched. He just hoped she’d never see this or find out he wrote it. He couldn’t imagine how she’d react if she found out one of her Best Friends was writing a fanfic where they pair her with Ladybug.

Plagg is currently eating Cheese while thinking to himself “Oh kid, if only you knew!”

*Ping*

Adrien looked over to his computer and saw that he just got a IM from the user “The Y-Bug”. Y-Bug?!? Wait wasn’t that the one I sent the link to? They read it already? Let’s see.

“SwagChat. First off thank you for your comments about my fanfic. I was surprised when you sent over this link & even more so after I read it. What inspired you to write it?”

Adrien was nervous since he didn’t want to reveal too much & also wanted to respond so they didn’t try to inquire more about him and possibly find out that he was Adrien or worse Chat Noir.

“Hello Bug. I guess my inspiration was a few things. First was your Fanfic. As for the second.....I....Actually am somewhat farmiliar with both Ladybug & Marinette. I’ve been a fan of Ladybug since her debut and as for Marinette....well I’ve a fan of some of her work. She’s a new Self Designer but if you asked me, she could even give Gabriel Agreste a run for his money. I really admire her so when I think of two girls in my life as a Pairing, it kinda make me feel....happy.”

Marinette fell silent. Whoever this person is, they must really know her well to think so highly of her. Both of her. Despite being pissed earlier, she couldn’t help but feel happy. She then wondered if she knew this user and tried to see if she could get them to reveal anything about themselves.

“Nice try, Bug. Can’t do that. Cats got my tongue. Though maybe if we can chat some more maybe I’ll feel more comfortable seeing you in person. Afterall, it sounds like you also live in Paris so maybe we will bump into each other. Can’t help but be curious about who made this Fic. Chat out.”

Marinette was half convinced at this point.

“It’s Chat! I’m sure of it! He saw my post and is trying to get back at me by making this post.”

Tikki decided to jump in.

“If it is him....are you upset?”

“At first I was, but now....I can’t help but find myself smiling. Oh No! Am I falling for Chat now? Speaking of there’s still the Adrien/Chat situation. Ugh...what do I do?”

——————————————————————————

Adrien just finished loggin off his computer when Plagg landed onto his head to talk about “Y-Bug”.

“So kid.....how do you feel?”

Adrien was silent for a second.

“I’m...okay Plagg. Y-Bug really wanted to know who I was. Can’t help but wonder if she suspects anything. Also.....”

“Also?”

“I feel like I know them somehow. I don’t know why but I just have this feeling that I know who the Author is but I can’t put my finger on it...”

Plagg sighs as he begins to think to himself.

“Good thing I flew over to Marinette’s house the other day to see if my hunch was right. It’s also good that Adrien was sick sleeping all day yesterday so he didn’t realize where I went. After this, I’m getting tired of waiting for these two to figure it out. I hope my plan to hook these two up somehow using these “Fanfics” of theirs works. I guess only time will tell.”

Hope you all liked this.

Tags: @buggachat for starting this, @gale-of-the-nomads for inspiring this particular idea, and also @masked-bixch since I usually tag you in posts like this.

#adrichat #maribug #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #love square #adrinette #adrienette #ladrien #marichat #ladynoir #ml #ml au #ml fanfiction #ml fanfics #miraculous

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pollyrepents · 4 years

Text

jumping jacks

A/N: Hi! This is my first Peaky Blinders fic! If anything is OOC, I do apologize. I had a panic attack, so I made Michael have one. I started myself off with Michael, Polly and an OC since I don’t feel too confident in my ability to characterize any of the Shelbys yet.

Warnings: Details anxiety/panic attack and brief mention of sexual abuse and blood.

Word Count: 1.7k

The last time Michael’s teeth chattered so hard it was the middle of the summer a little more than two years prior to the moment he stood in. His little brother had fallen from the tree behind the church their mother shepherded them to every other Sunday when she had finished the baking early. Michael--he was still Henry then, was wearing his week’s cleanest clothes and his little brother tried his hardest to keep his pants clean as Michael chased him down the cobblestone road to the awaiting hymns and creaky wooden pews. They always sat in the back, whispering quietly to each other as their mother continued the well rehearsed dance of sit, stand, kneel and bowing her head in the second pew from the front. The moment he fell from that tree and didn’t spring up the way he usually did after a tumble down the creaky wooden stairs at home, Michael’s heart seized in his chest for a moment before the harsh thundering of his heart kicked up rapidly.

Now he sat on the steps in his pinstripe suit as his mother confessed the things weighing her down inside the dark confessional, his teeth chattering and hands trembling as he waited.

He could still hear the choking of Father Hughes if his breath quieted for too long. The shallow breaths could convince him that the same stench of copper and frankincense was filling his nostrils as it had that night, closing his eyes brought back the weight on his knees on that stone floor, the grip on his knife and dampening cassock between his fingers suddenly reappeared.

He could not stop reliving the murder he deserved to commit.

He had cornered him the same way Hughes had all those times.

He had cornered him the same way he knew the bastard had cornered other little ones, countless others, under the guise of confession or a one-on-one sermon or monitoring their penance to make sure it was done properly.

No matter how much he convinced himself he deserved it, Michael couldn’t shake the weight from his chest.

“Michael!”

He could have thought it was Polly if he had mistaken the excitement for urgency in the small voice that had called to him. It was accompanied not by the clicking of heels, but by the thudding of small shoes stolen handed down from an older brother figure or stolen from a smaller make believe niece that had told him his cousin Edith was making her way toward him. He looked up, the small girl’s cheeks rosy and spread with a wide smile as she raced toward him.

“Michael!” She repeated, almost a cheer as she neared him.

He tried his best to pull himself together, standing up and stubbing out his disappearing cigarette under his foot to give his hands an excuse to dig in his pockets, searching for his case and lighter. His chest rose slowly as he tried to stop his shaking, his body fighting against the tweed of his waistcoat and the weight of his coat pressed against his chest.

“Hello, Edith.” He forced a smile for the sake of the little girl, the neighborhood rascal Polly had spoken fondly of throwing herself against his legs and wrapping her small arms firmly around them.

“John said you were-” She panted loudly, her flair for the dramatics making Michael want to smile. “John said you were sad.”

“He did?” Michael spoke through his clenched teeth, afraid the rattling would startle the child. He looked down at her, raising his eyebrows as she pressed her chin into his stomach. “Why’d he said that, Edie girl?”

She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips turning upwards as she looked up at him. She looked at people too closely for Michael’s liking. She was nothing like his little brother had been-oblivious to others the way a child should be, only picking up on the big things that involved them.

Not their little Edith.

Edith had managed to pick up on Tommy’s scrutinizing observation and John’s big mouth, two things he was sure Polly would have beaten out of them if she knew the little girl would soak them up like a sponge.

“He said you were thinking a lot. The way he says I do when Tommy uses a tone or when Polly uses a tone when she catches me.”

“Doing something they’ve told you not to?” He felt himself smirk, taking a deep inhale of smoke. She nodded, pressing her cheek against the fabric of his suit and he dropped a shaky hand to busy itself trying to pull the visible knots out of her thick and curly hair, his blood thudding dully in his ears.

He was sure it was braided this morning, he remembered John squeezing her between the desk and his chair as she whined and writhed and attempted to escape the man’s makeshift braiding workshop. He tried to conjure up the image again, a squirming child in the overly masculine betting den ten minutes after open because she moved too slowly, much to Tommy’s annoyance.

“John makes me do jumping jacks when I get sad.”

It was so muffled by her smushed cheek and his rattling breaths he almost couldn’t make it out.

“Say again?” He leaned back a bit to try to look at her face.

“When I get upset and my breathing goes all-” She panted heavily, moving her shoulders up and down for a moment as she did. “John makes me do jumping jacks. He tried to make Arthur do them but Arthur told him to fuck off-” her lips clamed shut at the slip of her tongue, and she looked up at Michael with wide brown eyes.

“That’s just between us.” Michael felt himself wink, the little girl nodded and tugged gently on the wool of her sweater sleeves, bringing them over her cold hands. “Do them!”

Michael blinked his eyes in surprise.

“Come on, then!” Edith pried herself away from him, the lack of heat seemingly not bothering her in the chill of Birmingham’s winter. “He says twenty at a time.”

“Oh, and you can count to twenty now?” If it was teasing or trying to find a way out of a circuit of exercise on the street, Michael couldn’t tell.

“I can count to a hundred!” She puffed out her chest proudly. “I can count better than Finn.”

“So can little Katie.” Michael made the girl giggle at the mention of John’s youngest as he obliged, standing upright and tossing his cigarette to the ground. He moved his jaw a bit, his hand coming up to attempt to rub some tension away.

“Ready?” Edith bounced excitedly on her toes, nearly tipping over before Michael steadied her.

At his nod, she jumped and flung her arms up, her fingertips brushing together as she clumsily spread her legs out and snapped back together. Michael copied her movement, his a bit more agile than the ten year old’s. They repeated their action as Michael tried to ignore the quizzical looks of the passersby, Edith giggling happily as they bounced and she counted along proudly.

“Nine-”

“Where’s your coat, Edith?”

The small girl stopped abruptly, looking past Michael and up the church stairs. Polly walked down the stairs behind them, heels clicking on the damp grey stone as she pulled her scarf from around her neck. “You’ll catch a deadly cold out in this.”

Michael’s breath left him in puffs, his heart thundering in his chest but beginning to return to normal.

“I didn’t need one.”Edith panted, looking up at Polly as she fixed her scarf over the girl’s neck and shoulders the best she could. “I was running and I knew I’d get warm from it so I didn’t-”

“So John didn’t stop you, that’s it?” Polly pursed her lips as Edith looked to Michael for help. His mother turned on him and Michael tore his gaze from the soft brown eyes of the girl. “You could have wrapped her up in yours. I was only a moment.”

Michael cleared his throat. “We were warming up, anyways.” He slipped his hand into his pocket for a cigarette, cupping his hand around the end to light it. “Doing jumping jacks to keep her from running down the Lane. I figured everyone could do with a moment’s peace from Edith’s mayhem.”

Michael could see the little girl’s mouth open to declare that Michael’s told you a lie, Polly! The same way she had whenever Finn got away with a white lie on a whim, but she looked up at Polly with a grin that could clear Brimingham smog if she intended it to.

“My counting’s gotten good, Polly!” She clapped her small hands together, scrunching her nose up as Polly hummed. “Counted all the way up to a hundred without stopping.”

“Did you?” Polly humored the child, looking up to Michael with a soft hint of a smile.

Michael tilted his head to the side. “Close enough to it.”

Edith shivered against Polly, her teeth beginning to click together in the cold.

“Oh-see? Come on, Edith. Before the chill gets in there.” Polly softly tapped a finger to the left of Edith’s chest, grabbing a small hand in her own.

“Are we going to the Garrison, Polly?” She looked up at Polly then briefly down the road. “To see Arthur and them?”

“You’re going home, with me, for supper, Edith.” Polly gently tugged her hand as they started down the road at Polly’s pace.

“Wait!” Edith wrenched her hand from Polly’s practically throwing herself into Michael’s arms for a final goodbye.

“I’ll see you soon, Edith.” Michael lifted her up in a tight hug, taking a deep breath the same time she did, her weight against his front comforting and warm.

“Tomorrow.” She insisted, leaning back to press her clammy hands to his face. “We’ll play footy, with Finn.”

“Tomorrow.”Michael promised in the same tone he made business deals, no idea if he could fulfill it. “Footy. With Finn.”

“And biscuits.” She attempted to whisper, her small voice carrying.

“If-”

“If Polly lets us.” Michael interrupted his mother, raising his eyebrows at young girl in his arms before setting her down.

“Bye, Michael!” Edith skipped her way to Polly, her hand finding the older woman’s again.

Michael’s shoulders rose as he took a deep breath, taking in the smoke of the factories behind him and the dampness the morning’s snow had brought upon the cobblestone surrounding him. For a moment, there was no copper scent, no gurgling and no iron grip on holy clothes.

Just Birmingham, for the moment.

Just home.

#peaky blinders #polly gray #michael gray #polly shelby #michael shelby #peaky blinders fic #angst #fluff #edith #written by me

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msiopao · 4 years

Text

The One With Koo Koo’s Little Munchkin

pairing: jungkook x nobi (ft. uncle bangtan)

summary: nobi’s brother lets her babysit her niece but her and jungkook don’t really know how to take care of a baby

if she was warned of the disaster and the regret that would happen later, nobi would’ve never let that baby enter her home.

it all started when kazuki, her older brother, needed someone to look after his daughter since him and his wife were going overseas for a week-long medical conference. unfortunately, the grandparents were also out of the country since the youngest child, maiya, had a chess tournament in China and needed her guardians.

that only left him with his other sister, sakura, or most commonly known to the world as Nobi of BTS.

with the ring of cellphone and the familiar ringtone dedicated just for her oldest sibling, nobi placed the washing gloves down and retrieved the phone that was on the counter to squish it between her ear and shoulder.

“welcome to chili’s, how may I help you?”

a burst of laughter from the other side caused a smile on her face. “table for 4, please!”

she froze, “WHAT!? HANA IS PREGNANT!? AGAIN!?”

“WHAT!? NO! IT’S FOR THE DOG! WOONGIE THE DOGGIE!”

a relieved sigh passed through her, “dear asahi, please don’t scare me like that again.”

“i mean... my favor might?”

with that sentence, nobi should’ve declined and hung up without a second thought. but as the loving and dependable little sister she was, she pressed farther and asked what for.

“you see... hana and i need to go to germany for some conference and we can’t take nanako since we’ll be in workshops all day. ma and pa are with maiya in China for chess so it only leaves you.”

“wOW, i’M the lAST rESoRt?!” An outraged yell from her caught the attention of jin, jungkook, and jimin, who were lounging in the living room.

“please, kura,” he begged and she sighed. “you love nanako, don’t you? besides! jungkook’s there and i trust him, so you have someone for help!”

“i haven’t even seen the kid since she was born not even a year ago. and jungkook’s a man-child.”

“but you still like her. and him.”

“eh, if she’s 50% of you then maybe i don’t. and he’s a handful already so adding an actual baby will be a pain.”

“kura! please!”

the loud voice from her sister-in-law made her cringe and back her ear away. jungkook is familiar with the voices in her phone since he roomed with her and she called her brother and his wife often.

“please take care of nanako!” she yelled and hung up, not even giving nobi time to protest.

nobi cursed under her breath and finished putting the last plate on the rack before wiping her hands and walking over to join the rest. jungkook scooted to the side so she could sit next to him and she curled up on his side since he opened up his right arm.

“what’s up?” jin asked as he placed an UNO wild card on the table during the heated match the boys had.

“kazuki wants me to take care of his brat,” she complained. “didn’t even give me any say in it.”

“ah, it’s okay! jin-hyung knows how to take care of them!” jimin reassured, not looking up from his 5 cards.

“um, not really?” the oldest asked unsurely.

“how old is the kid?”

“she’s turning one in 5 months.”

“aren’t you happy kazuki finally settled down, though?” hobi’s question made her shrug.

“i mean, the parents have been bugging him since he turned 23 to find a girlfriend. the guy married his first ever girlfriend and had a kid with her!” she exclaimed. “to be honest, i really thought he was paying her to act as his lover but apparently not!”

“can you imagine being so desperate to buy a fake girlfriend?” yoongi mumbled making her laugh.

“use that one,” nobi nudged yoongi with her toe pointing to the card. “also, jin-hyung didn’t change any of our diapers.”

“but wouldn’t a baby be easier than raising 4 teenagers?” namjoon said and nobi looked up from jungkook’s chest.

“well, i guess it won’t be that bad if i have help.”

“speak for yourself,” yoongi mumbled to which she playfully jabbed his side.

“anyways. if their kid goes missing, it’s not my fault because i was forced in this situation.”

jungkook tightened his arm around her. “think of this as a trial-run, bub. since you never took care of your sister, you don’t really know if you’re good with kids or not. maybe you’re like the ultimate mother master.”

she giggled, “nah. suffering 9 months for a demon and being responsible for it for 18 more years? can’t even handle myself.”

...

true to her word, nobi really can’t look after herself, much less with a kid. the doorbell rang meaning they were outside and had the little demon to take care of waiting. she tripped over some of kook’s shoes on the floor and she stubbed her toe against the door frame in a hurry to answer the door.

when kazuki dropped off his baby girl, nobi begrudgingly took the carrier from hana’s hands and snarled when kazuki sent an victorious smile.

“it’s only for 7 days, kura.”

“you know what could happen in those 7 days?! anything can happen in that time period! i wrote an entire album in a week! what’s to say i won’t do something to the brat!” her whines made kazuki roll his eyes before thumping her on the forehead.

“you big dummy,” he mused. “it’ll be fine. besides, hana put in about 7 pages of instructions there for you just in case.” she followed his finger that was pointing to the bag on her arm.

“honestly, are you my brother?” she asked, irritated. “since when do you see me reading instructions?”

“when you’re handling a tiny human and you won’t have anyone there to help you. that’s when.”

the boys were huddled around the carrier in the middle of the parlor, absolutely smitten with chubby cheeks of the baby and the little puffs of air she let out. sleep was heavy on her and her tiny fist clenched the baby blue blanket that her mother knitted her.

nobi was sorting out the baby powder and the nappies at the kitchen while jungkook squeezed some of the milk on his arm to test the temperature. he had assembled a crib in their room earlier and she placed all of the clothes into an emptied drawer that used to house her socks.

“sakura! how could you hate this little angel?!” jin squealed.

“hyung! too loud!” jungkook chided and nobi laughed.

“she looks too much like maiya.” her answer didn’t reach the others ears since no one reacted. she leaned her hip against the island and crossed her arm, amused and watching the boys get hypnotized by nanako.

“can you believe a little munchkin, not even a year old, has all the members of bangtan wrapped around her tiny finger?” jungkook asked from behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

nobi leaned against his chest, “well, the guys love kids in general. even she has yoongi-hyung’s attention, the attention that is reserved only for his baby Holly.”

jimin saw nanako flutter her tiny eyes open and watched it widen at the sight of 6 unfamiliar faces. she must’ve been frightened at the foreign surrounding and the lack of her mother and father only added to the fear. soon, her wails filled the previously quiet dorm and the boys panicked.

“oi! eomma! appa! your baby is crying!” tae shouted and nobi rushed over from the nappies, kneeling quickly and hovering over the carrier.

“hello, darling,” she cooed. “have a nice nap?” nanako didn’t respond but her cries did quiet down a bit, blinking up at the familiar-looking person. nobi picked her up and placed her on her arms, fingers gently touching her cheeks.

jungkook came over with the ready bottle of milk and handed it to her so she could feed the baby. “here.”

the boys watched the 2 peer down at the suckling baby and they snapped up when someone’s camera shutter and camera flash went off. taehyung had his old camera, jin had his polaroid, while namjoon had his phone up, all with wide eyes as if they were just caught.

“oi! nanako is feeding!” jungkook scolded causing nobi and the others to laugh.

“wah, it’s like we’re looking into the future!” hobi whispered, shocked at the sight in front of him.

“joonie, look! our babies with their baby!”

nanako continued to feed, eventually finishing her entire bottle, and nobi passed her off to jungkook so he could burp her while she washes the bottle for the next feed.

the guys shared a look and they grinned, relieved that taking care of this baby wasn’t going to be as bad as they thought.

...

eyebags and wrinkles were making their home in the faces of nobi and jungkook, victims of her irregular sleeping schedule. it was only the third day and her second night with them was the roughest time they’ve went through in a while.

jungkook was slumped over at the dining table, sleeping and breakfast shoved to the side, and nobi was clutching her coffee cup and seemed to be sleeping with her eyes wide open.

jin and namjoon were observing them with concern since they too were woken up by the loud cries of the child and they know the maknaes haven’t had a good sleep since the first night.

“kura?” jin poked her at the shoulder but received no response. “sakura?”

she jolted, wildly looking around as if she didn’t know where she was. “huh?”

her sudden movement woke jungkook up and he also looked out of sorts, eyes suddenly going wide. “the baby!”

“the baby!” nobi echoed before shooting up to stand but a hand stopped her.

“sshh,” namjoon soothed. “taehyung and jimin washed her already and are changing her right now. don’t worry, hoseok’s there with them.”

similar fatigue-laced eyes settled on the oldest and the leader as they sat back down, confusion and alarm slowly disappearing. jungkook groaned and started to slump over to go back to sleep but shot up when he heard the giggles from the devil herself.

“appa! nanako is here!” tae said in a child-like voice, carrying nanako with jimin and hobi trailing behind him.. “nanako is clean!” nanako saw jungkook and nobi and immediately wiggled to go to her temporary parents.

“nanako wants to see eomma!” jimin followed but nobi immediately shook her head.

“no!” she expressed, back away from the baby.

“aw, why?” tae pouted but smiled again when jungkook outstretched his arms.

“come here, my little munchkin,” he grunted. nanako found solace in his arms and she laid her head on his chest, as if she was listening to his steady heartbeat with her eyes closed.

nobi observed the girl’s calm behavior, slightly leaning forward to get a better look. “if only she was this peaceful last night.”

“hm, this is what parenthood is like, kids.” yoongi’s comment made the rest shiver.

“when was the last time you both slept longer than 3 hours?” jin asked as the amount of times he heard walking in their room was concerning.

“the night before she got here,” jungkook answered.

“well, you’re lucky she’s only here for a week. next week, we have a meeting with Bang and we might start choreography classes then. it’s good that we won’t have a baby in tow.”

everyone nodded at namjoon and at the mention of the meeting, hobi and yoongi dispersed to leave to their studios while the 95-liners were leaving to go to the gym to prepare their bodies for the grueling dances. namjoon was accompanying jin to the grocery store so it left the maknaes and the baby at home with no one else.

thankfully, the child was starting to fall asleep and nobi noticed jungkook fighting to keep his eyes open.

“come on, let’s go to bed.” her suggestion sparked a little life in jungkook and he carefully carried nanako to their bedroom where they could all get comfortable.

within seconds, nanako fell asleep and with the rise and fall of jungkook’s chest combined with his heartbeat made her slip into dreamworld quickly. jungkook was already snoring by the time nobi laid next to him and she hummed in content, happy that she was able to finally sleep.

...

their days continued on like that.

being fortunate enough to be on break, jungkook and nobi were able to sleep whenever they wanted since they were usually kept up by the energy that nanako only released at nighttime.

but they weren’t the only ones suffering.

it was now clear that the lungs that sakura had was genetic as it also transferred over to her niece by the way she belted her cries, the boys jokingly singing along to it (cue bretman rock). at night, they have created ways to block out her cries like sleeping with airpods plugged in or on jimin and hoseok’s case, leaving for 3 nights to sleep in a hotel since their room was right next door.

however, tonight was especially bad.

nanako refused to drink her milk, instead crying and screaming the entire time she was awake. when she did sleep, she would eventually wake herself up and start the entire cycle again. nobi was getting worried because she only had 1 bottle of milk today and she didn’t want to be held or touched by anyone.

combined with the worry and the sleep deprivation, nobi was in tears, sobbing on the floor next to nanako’s crib, who was also crying, so together they had a crying session. everyone else was busy, even jungkook since he joined the others in the gym, so she was left to fend for herself and the baby wasn’t helping by refusing to take in any milk.

“nanako, please,” she begged. “one bottle, hm? just one bottle.”

nanako shook her head and cried louder making sakura wail more. maybe it wasn’t the ideal situation or the ideal move but nobi didn’t know what to do because she’s never taken cared of a baby before. initially, she called her brother to figure out how to solve the problem but neither of them were answering and the booklet had nothing on there on how to get her to drink.

honestly, of all things, that should be in there.

the two girls were so busy having their sobbing match that they completely missed the front door and jungkook’s greeting. the boy was in shock at the sight of nobi clutching the crib with nanako inside while they both cried their eyes out.

“bub,” he whispered before grabbing her to his arms.

“i don’t know why she won’t drink, kook. and i’m so tired,” she wailed and cried harder.

jungkook racked his brain on what to do until settling on a decision. “tell you what. go to bed and plug your airpods in so you could sleep while i take care of nanako.”

nobi started to protest because she knew he needed sleep too but he waved her off. the feeling of the plushness of her bed was so foreign to her now since she rarely had time to sleep on it and relish in the comfort. the loud lo-fi music drowned out the screams and wails of the baby, allowing her to finally slip into her own dreamland.

it was only about 2 hours that she woke up and she cursed, fearing that she has so suddenly created a new maternal sense in a span of 5 days.quickly sitting up, the panic in her chest soothed when she saw an empty bottle on the dresser and jungkook swaying with nanako cradled on his arms, sleeping. she gently pried the earbuds out of her ears and smiled softly at jungkook’s quiet singing, feeling relaxed herself.

“go to sleep, my little munchkin,” he whispered. “koo koo will be here when you wake up. i promise.”

nobi closed her eyes in gratitude and forced down a scream of gratitude to the lord and savior, god almighty, that nanako has eaten and finally fallen asleep. and jungkook was here.

jungkook noticed her rising figure and he sat down next to her, still cradling the baby.

“morning,” she grinned to which he returned. “how was she?”

“well, took a while to convince her to eat but she did and she just fell asleep.”

“you’ll be a great father someday, koo koo.” jungkook bashfully looked away to hide the smile that threatened to escape.

“nah, i just communicate with children better.”

“do you want a baby girl? or a baby boy?”

a moment of thinking caused silence until he answered, “doesn’t matter. as long as i have my family.”

if she didn’t grow up with jungkook and didn’t see through his puberty and awkward and ugly moments, nobi might’ve just busted out a ring and married him then and there.

...

kazuki and hana were amused at the smiling face of the usually shy jungkook and the anger and irritation that radiated off of the girl beside him. the father gently took hold of his daughter from jungkook’s arms and she giggled, seemingly happy to see her father again.

hana placed a hand on nobi’s arm and squeezed in gratitude. “thank you so much, kura.”

nobi had no energy left in her to lie a smile so she sighed. “you’re really welcome. but she’s a handful. she kinda reminds me of maiya.”

kazuki laughed at the mention of their youngest sister. “you stayed with grandmother for a year because you hated her crying.”

“exactly.”

“she was really nice, hyung.” jungkook reassured the man. “loud, but sweet.”

“then she should be over any time, right?”

“during the day, yes.” but she made a cross with her arms. “but nighttime, is no no.”

“either way, thank you so much, sakura, jungkook-ssi.” hana gratefully said and the family finally moved to leave.

nanako, who had her head on her father’s shoulder, turned to peak at the two who were slowly getting farther away and raised a wobbly hand as if saying her good-byes.

“bye bye, my little munchkin!” jungkook yelled and she giggled, flapping her arms.

when they were out of sight, nobi sighed and felt the relief flowing through her veins.

“she’s an absolute adorable little baby. but if i have to spend another night with her, i will lose it.”

jungkook laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.

“again, it’s to prepare for the future, right? because i really want a munchkin of my own.”

a/n: don’t be silly, wrap your willy

65 notes · View notes

babbushka · 4 years

Note

Hi, hello, I love your writing so very much! Thank you for blessing us w/ amazing content ☺️ I loved Adam’s SNL performance and I was wondering if you could do one where Flip is asked to perform a silly skit for the local elementary school as Windermere or he does it because of a bet from the boys at the station. And then the missus in the background laughing her ass off. I think that’d be so hilarious, but if you don’t want to write it that’s fine. Thanks so much! ❤️

anon i need you to know this took me like 2 hours to finish because i kept needing to stop to laugh

It was times like these, that he regrets being such a nice fucking guy. If he were just an asshole, he wouldn’t be in this mess, he thinks to himself as he puts on the last pieces of his costume, as he scowls at himself in the tiny mirror in the low-budget dressing room just next to the cafetorium. If he were just an asshole, he wouldn’t be staring at himself in the face, wondering if there would be any dignity left at the end of all this.

He scowls and scowls until he hears a knock at the door, the familiar little repetition that he knows immediately is yours.

Somehow that’s worse, the thought of you seeing him like this.

You had seen him in so many awkward and uncomfortable situations over the years – that was just the nature of being married, the nature of being together for as long as you had been. You’d sat by his side at the hospital after gunshot wounds, had slept in the bathroom next to him during a case of really bad flu, hell you had even helped him get his dick out of his zipper the first – and only – time he had gotten it caught.

But this, this was worse than all of that.

“Honey? Are you coming out?” Your soft sweet voice asks from the other side of the door, “They’re almost ready to start.”

“No.” He shakes his head, smacking the side of his face against the opening of the costume, the soft plastic crinkling in his peripheral vision.

“No?” You ask, concerned, and Flip can’t help but light up a cigarette, the fourth one in the past thirty minutes he’s sucked down.

“No, ketsl, abso-fucking-lutely not.” He can’t even bare to look at himself in the mirror anymore, as he moans and groans in dismay.

“Aw honey it can’t be that bad, the kids are so excited.” You reason, and he shakes his head.

The kids, the fucking kids. The sweet little elementary school kids who this whole production was for, the whole play. You knew one of the mothers, was a friend of hers, and when she mentioned the school needed actors to give a small series of skits for all kinds of safety, you had immediately volunteered Flip.

And Flip, the good loving fucking husband that he was, agreed, thinking he’d be able to teach the kids about stranger danger, or street smarts, or literally anything else other than the food safety skit he was assigned.

He had originally wondered why no one wanted to take the part.

Now he knew.

“(Y/N) I don’t think you understand.” Flip bemoans, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I’m ketchup. They fucking made me ketchup.”

You try jimmying the doorknob, but find it locked for all of three seconds before Flip decided he can’t ever actually deny you anything, and stands in the doorway, cracking it open just a tiny bit.

Immediately your eyes take in the sight of him; your six-foot-three husband crammed into a larger than life sized ketchup bottle, complete with little smears of ketchup stuck to the inside of the glass. He’s wearing a red turtleneck and pants underneath it, and he wants to walk into the mountains and never return.

“Oh.” You gasp, have to cover your mouth as your eyes widen, as your shoulders begin to shake, “Oh my – ”

“If you start laughing now I think I’m going to throw something.” Flip says very seriously, too seriously, entirely too fucking seriously for the situation, because who had ever seen a chain-smoking ketchup bottle before?

“Me? Laughing?” You ask, laughing, laughing so hard that there are tears in your eyes, because you love your husband so much and this is absolutely the dumbest thing you have ever seen him wear. “I’m not – I would never laugh – I’ve just got uh, hot sauce, in my eyes.”

You laugh and Flip wants to laugh too, he does. He would, if it were happening to literally anyone else but him.

But, as it stands, it is happening to him, and he goes to close the door and take the whole fucking costume off and go home and sit in his comfy chair and simmer in his own embarrassment, right as one of the teachers organizing the event has just poked her head around the corner to give you a two minute warning.

“Philly honey, please, you have to, they’re starting now.” You stop him, grasp his hand in between the both of yours and bring it to your lips, pressing lots of reassuring and calming kisses to the back of his palm. “Just think of the kids, and…food safety.”

You give him a pleading look, puppy-eyes, the kind that could get away with murder. And before he knows it, he’s stubbing out the damned cigarette and he’s running his hand through his damned hair and he’s grumbling to himself, “Okay Flip. You’ve been to ‘Nam. You can do this.”

You beam, proud of him for swallowing whatever dignity he had left, and you reach up on your tippie-toes to kiss his cheek, to pepper him with love and adoration.

“You are so brave and so handsome and if you just get through this night I will let you fuck me so hard when we get home that you’ll black out and forget all this even happened.” You whisper in his ear, before giving him a pat on the back and nudging him in the direction of the stage.

And Flip might not have any pride left, but you certainly have more than enough for the both of them, because the second he’s out on stage he’s got a big smile for those elementary school kids, and you can safely burst into laughter when you hear him say in his big booming voice,

“Howdy kids, I’m Windermere!”

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #flip zimmerman #blackkklansman #i love my husband #SO MUCH LMAO #Anonymous #cowboy answers

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hartigays · 5 years

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#44 for harringrove please!

44. Tentative kisses given in the dark.

the fan on the motel ceiling makes a soft ticking noise as it rotates. it’s the only sound that fills the room, save for steve’s soft breathing. he can’t tell if billy is still awake.

steve glances over at billy, on guard and ready to be pretending to look at literally anything else in the room. billy is awake, but he’s staring up at the ceiling. his fingers tap an offbeat rhythm on his chest. he doesn’t notice steve staring.

school field trips are the bane of steve’s existence. especially when they have to travel a long distance, because then it becomes an overnighter. which means surviving painfully long bus rides and sharing a room with whatever person he’s randomly assigned to.

with billy’s last name being hargrove, this has been a long time coming. but steve had assumed that when it did, he’d still hate the guy. not that they’d be tentatively standing on even ground. not that he’d have this - whatever this feeling is, thrumming constantly beneath his ribcage.

this feeling that makes steve feel hot and itchy all over whenever billy’s gaze is pointed in his direction.

“what?”

steve is startled out of his thoughts. he blinks over at billy, only to find him staring right back. steve’s blush probably spreads all the way down his body, right down to his toes.

“nothing, sorry,” steve says quickly. “zoned out for a second.”

billy is quiet for another long moment. he doesn’t look back at steve, but finally says, “can’t believe i have to waste a weekend watching cheese get made. fuckin’ stupid.”

“hey, at least we get samples,” steve offers, shrugging.

“i’m lactose intolerant, pretty boy.”

steve flushes bright red, clearing his throat. “oh. well, uh. that sucks.”

billy laughs, then sits up, shuffling around before getting up and walking to the window. he unlatches before raising it as much as he can, then lights a cigarette.

“are we allowed to smoke in here?”

“what, you gonna snitch?” billy asks, assessing steve quietly. steve watches the smoke curl up into the air for a moment before he sits up and heads over to where billy is standing.

“wasn’t planning on it,” steve tells him. he stares at billy expectantly. “what, you’re just gonna leave me hanging?”

billy rolls his eyes, but offers his cigarette pack. steve takes one, giving billy an appreciative smile before lighting up.

they’re halfway through their smokes before steve dares to speak again. he never knows how to act around billy, or what to say. or when he’s allowed to say anything at all. if he’s allowed to say anything.

billy hargrove doesn’t scare steve, he’s not the big bad bully he wants everyone to think he is. but their friendship, if steve can even call it that, is tentative at best. he doesn’t want to fuck it up by putting his foot in his mouth.

“why did you come if you can’t even eat cheese?” steve asks, blowing out pretty tendrils of smoke.

steve swears he sees billy blush, but he can’t be completely sure. billy shrugs, nonchalant. “better than being cooped up all weekend with my family. ‘s whatever.”

“i find it hard to believe that you couldn’t find something to do this weekend,” steve insists, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray on the windowsill. “the new king of hawkins always has plans.”

billy rolls his eyes. his cigarette is almost down to the filter, but he’s still puffing. “in order for that to be true, hawkins would need to get 500% cooler. small towns don’t have shit going on.”

steve will give him that one. “that’s true. i’m surprised you don’t throw your own parties, being the keg king and all.”

“jealous much?”

“just a fact,” steve says, giving his own shrug. he turns to walk back to his bed.

“think the couch would be less lumpy than these goddamn beds?” billy asks, finally putting his cigarette out. it’s burnt all the way to the filter.

“mine’s not that bad.”

“well, aren’t you just lucky,” billy says. he feigns sweetness, but his voice has an agitated edge.

steve sits on the edge of his bed, then pauses. he blinks down at the mattress, then back at billy.

“we could always -” steve starts before he can catch himself. he cuts himself off quickly, his mouth snapping shut so hard that his teeth click.

billy looks at him expectantly, one brow raised. “well? we could always...? what?”

“we could always, uh,” steve pauses, his cheeks heating up. “we could always just share. no big deal, i used to have to share with tommy whenever we had an away game.”

no one says anything. steve holds his breath, on the edge of his seat both literally and metaphorically. billy finally shrugs, sliding the window shut before walking around the other side of steve’s bed. he slips in next to him silently, shifting until he gets comfortable.

the silence that hangs between them this time is far less comfortable than the previous ones. steve feels like he has to hold his breath, has to keep perfectly still. like if he moves a muscle billy will bolt from the room like a scared animal.

when steve chances a peek at him, billy looks perfectly relaxed. he has one arm hooked behind his head, and his eyes are closed, his breathing soft and even. steve is almost certain billy is asleep, when finally he speaks.

“why did you come on this trip if you can’t sleep in hotels?”

“what?” steve asks, his brows knitting together. “who said i can’t sleep in hotels?”

“it’s two in the morning, we had a five million hour bus ride today, which you didn’t sleep on, and you’re still awake,” billy points out.

steve opens his mouth to answer, but he snaps it shut again just as quickly, billy’s words ringing in his ears. “you were watching me?”

he doesn’t get an answer. when he looks at billy, something warm blooms deep inside of him. something that makes his fingertips tingle and his heart race. because there’s no mistaking billy’s blush this time - he’s red like a cherry tomato.

and he won’t look at steve. even when steve pokes him with his toe, saying his name, billy doesn’t answer. he looks like he’s trying to pretend to be asleep, but it’s in vain. steve is wide awake now, his attention focused entirely on the boy next to him.

“billy.” he doesn’t say it so billy will answer, but he does wish billy would look at him. “billy.”

“i wasn’t watching you, alright? fuckin’ drop it, christ.”

steve sighs, trying to think of how to go about the situation. they’ve accidentally thrown themselves into unfamiliar territory, and the moment feels incredibly fragile. but maybe if steve can pick the right words, say the right thing, they can make even more headway. maybe they can continue making progress, if he plays his cards right.

but there aren’t any words that fit. none of them feel quite right. so steve reaches out a tentative hand, slow and steady, watching billy to gauge his reaction. the other boy doesn’t move. he’s almost like a statue. steve’s fingers finally come in contact with the pendant around billy’s neck.

the metal is warm beneath steve’s fingertips from being in constant contact with billy’s heated skin. steve chews on his lip, rolling the pendant between his fingers, watching it closely. billy still hasn’t moved, but the soft puff of his breath has stopped. he’s been holding his breath since steve’s hand made contact with the necklace.

“it’s okay, you know,” steve tells him, his voice low. gentle. “if you were watching me. i - you know. that’d be okay.”

the noise that escapes billy’s lips is almost like a whimper. steve’s eyes snap up and focus in on billy’s face. he finds blue eyes staring back at him. wide with something like fear, but also - wonder.

steve is feeling bolder. he places one of his hands on billy’s cheek. leans in, slow as ever. careful, cautious. billy doesn’t rear back, or try to slip out from under steve’s touch. so steve keeps moving, closes the gap slowly, until he’s less than an inch from billy’s lips.

“sometimes i watch you too, you know,” steve whispers.

and then their lips are touching, finally. tentative at first. shy, even. but then billy makes this noise, something that sounds a lot like relief. it has steve’s fingers tangling into his hair, dragging him close and deepening the kiss.

billy is incredibly warm. steve can feel the heat radiating from his body, and he instinctively presses in closer, trying to drown himself in it. billy’s shoulder feels incredibly broad beneath the fingertips of his other hand - steady and strong.

steve feels the sting of a bite on his bottom lip, and his fingers tighten both in billy’s hair and on his shoulder. he feels like he’s drowning in the feeling, like he’s floating. but eventually steve has to breathe, and he breaks away with a soft gasp.

it takes them both a minute to catch their breath, but billy hasn’t stopped looking at him. still with wide eyes, like he’s trying to figure out if this is reality or just a dream. he reaches out, capturing steve’s chin between his thumb and index finger.

he thinks billy is going to speak, but he just leans in again, hesitating for a moment. tentative again. his lips are gentler this time, soft and sweet. steve goes pliant, sighing happily. they kiss like that for a while, alternating between tentative and bold, growing familiar with each other.

time passes slowly. after a while, steve presses one last kiss to billy’s lips, nipping at his bottom lip. “so. you wanna ditch tomorrow?”

“god, yes,” billy agrees, “please. i can’t take another day of that shit.”

steve laughs, gentle and bright. “what do you want to do instead?” he asks, then grins cheekily. “doesn’t ice cream sound so good?”

billy groans and whacks steve’s shoulder, but he’s smiling like an idiot, too.

“you’re an idiot, harrington.”

“you love it,” steve hums.

billy blushes up to his hairline. he plays with steve’s hand, where their fingers are laced together.

“yeah, i do.”

send me a number + a pairing!

#im so glad you requested this one anon #i really wanted to write this one because its just so *chefs kiss*#SO THANK YOU 🥺#harringrove #my fics #anon #ask

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