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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

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Simmer #8

CH8. Boiling Point | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

You wished the diner was busier.

You would’ve done anything for more customers to serve. Anything. But Jim’s was quiet, only a few regulars scattered around the tables, only wanting coffees, no refills, scowling if you came too close, blocking the sunlight that fell onto their newspapers.

Robin and Steve were by the bar, throwing a crumpled napkin between them like a baseball, talking softly about nothing important and you felt too hot as you stood polishing the cutlery, shoving napkins into dispensers with clumsy hands. You could see Eddie through the kitchen hatch, prepping the burger buns for the dinner rush that you hoped would come. His eyes were trying to find yours as he rolled out the dough but you were avoidant, moving around each empty table with your head ducked.

Eventually, the rolling in your stomach became too much and the sight of Chrissy loitering in the kitchen was making that hot flush creep higher up your neck, across the back of your ears. You slammed a pile of menus down on the coffee bar, ignoring the way Mr Creel grumbled at you, looking at Steve and Robin as if they’d be able to fix the way you were feeling.

“Did Eddie and Chrissy used to date?” You came right out with it, voice rushed and quiet, speaking low in hopes that your question wouldn’t carry into the kitchen.

The radio was on, a female voice crooning from the speakers and you hated the way Chrissy was swaying to the beat, powder blue uniform skimming the tops of her thighs as she stood too near Eddie, refilling the salt and pepper shakers.

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want, cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too, if it happened to you…”

“Chrissy?” Robin wrinkled her nose and looked into the kitchen, too obvious. You tugged at her arm, pleading. “Don’t look.”

Steve snorted, hopping off of the bar to block lean over it instead, knocking his knuckles against yours. “Nah. I mean, I don’t think so?” He squinted at you before he shared a look with Robin and the girl shrugged, confused. “Chrissy just likes to flirt. With like, everyone. Her and Eddie were friendly, I guess?”

“Friendly,” you repeated, swallowing the word with the lump in your throat.

“It’s not, it’s not like that,” Steve murmured softly. His eyes were searching yours, watching the way they turned glassy. “It’s not like it is with you, trust us, you don’t have to worry about that, okay?”

Robin nodded, reaching out to hold your hand. She squeezed your fingers and smiled. “Yeah, you seriously don’t have to panic. Eddie doesn’t worry about our eating habits,” she grinned when you rolled your eyes. “And can we talk about that hickey yet? ‘Cause, shit…”

You groaned, cheeks warm but your friends had succeeded in quelling the ache in your chest, if only just. You felt like the new kid again with Chrissy around, watching her sit on the stool - your stool - at Eddie’s station, laughing at a joke you couldn’t hear, pocketing tips from the truckers who came in for coffee and cake, asking her how her summer was, if she was still working seasons at the camp a few towns over.

Chrissy was confident and bright, a bubblegum pink smile and rosy cheeks, a pretty, bouncy thing that made you feel two inches tall and every time you caught her near Eddie, your heart sank a little. She touched him a lot, a delicate hand on his arm, shoving at his shoulder when he made her laugh, brushing a crumb off the lapel of his chef whites after he whisked up a new batter.

You stayed away from the kitchen, only taking orders that Jonathan handed you from across the hatch and you could see the way Eddie’s brows knitted together every time you turned your back on him but the jealousy was too overwhelming. The uncertainty, the self conscious ache that made your neck feel too hot and you knew you were being ridiculous.

You did. You knew.

But it was too soon to be marking your territory and scaring away the boy with questions like, ‘what are we? Have you kissed her? Have you kissed her like you kissed me? Are we more than friends now? Are we more than what you have with her?

“Chicago,” Jonathan’s voice interrupted your pity party. He was pouring a coffee for Mr Creel, the man’s seventh refill of the afternoon. “Chef’s asking for you.”

Your stomach flipped and you grimaced, trying to pull off the expression as a smile. You weren’t sure it worked. You held up the cloth you’d been walking around with for an hour to look preoccupied, shrugging half heartedly. “Busy,” you told the boy.

“He said he’s made you lunch,” was all Jonathan replied.

So you sighed and tried not to let his words tug on your heartstrings too much. You smiled and gave in, throwing the cloth onto the workstation by the kitchen door and you didn’t even bother announcing your arrival when the diner was so quiet. Eddie looked up the second you appeared, eyes wide and he was just finishing plating up a stack of pancakes, a bundle of chopped strawberries in a bowl beside them.

“Hey,” he breathed, wiping his hands on his apron. “Hey. You okay? I’ve not seen you all shift.”

The kitchen was empty, no sign of Chrissy. The stoves were off and only one grill was still sizzling, leftover pancake batter crisping in the corners as it cooled down, a simmer in the quiet. You smiled weakly, unable to stop the wobble in your lip.

Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.

You coughed, clearing your throat until the lump there disappeared and you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry, it’s, uh,” you winced as you gesture back to the empty diner. Steve was sleeping in one of the booths, his head against the window. “It’s been… busy.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, a frown on his face. It was soft, concerned. “Sit, yeah? Have lunch with me?”

You took a step forward, aching to walk to the boy, to let yourself push your face to his chest and let him smooth his hands over your hair. You got to spend the night into the early morning with him, draped over his lap as you shared triangles of grilled cheese and then kisses after it but you missed the way he felt already.

Then the fire exit door opened and Chrissy sauntered back in, cooing at the sight of the pancakes on the worktop. Eyes wide, she skipped over, ponytail bouncing like something out of a damn daydream and you didn’t know what to say when she picked up the fork Eddie had laid out for you and speared it through the stack. Her lips were sticky with gloss and maple syrup as she licked them, moaning sweetly as she looked at Eddie.

“Oh my god, Eds,” Chrissy sounded pornographic. “I missed your cooking so much, you know that?” She turned to you, grinning. Oblivious - maybe. “Does this cutie pie cook you up some food too? I swear, I used to get three meals a day when I worked here full time. Oh my god— Eddie! Remember the triple stacked pizza—?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the story. You really didn’t care to. And as rude as it may have seemed, you walked right past Chrissy and Eddie and the pancakes that were no longer yours. You could feel the tears burning the corner of your eyes and it made your nose itch, your cheeks burn. You weren’t doing this where people could see.

The door to the walk-in was heavy but you yanked it hard, breath catching in your throat like a hiccup and you were quick to close it behind you, the thud making the shelves inside rattle but it was suddenly quiet as it was cold. The heat of embarrassment faded, the burn crawling up the back of your spine disappeared and you sniffed, gazing up at the ceiling as if that would quell your tears. You stared at the patches of ice, focusing on the goosebumps rising across your bare arms instead.

It was silly, you thought, to feel such a way. To let someone make you feel that way. But beside Chrissy and her perfectly curled ponytail and her pretty Mary Jane sandals, you felt small. Unimportant. Like you suddenly didn’t belong in the stupid diner with its stupid chequered tables and its broken soda machine. Chrissy hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. It was mean of you to dislike her, with nothing more than a name and her connection to Eddie to fuel your jealousy.

Feeling petulant, you decided that was enough. You swore, mostly at yourself, and pressed the heels of your palms to your watery eyes. You felt replaced and it was an awful, ugly feeling. As much as you tried to remember what Robin and Steve had told you earlier, you couldn’t get over the way Chrissy looked at Eddie, like she really knew him, like she had some sort of claim on him. It was a very female thing to pick up on, only seeing the subtle signs through the eyes of being a girl.

The glances, the quick up and down she gave you as you arrived that morning, weighing up the chances of you being competition. The touches on Eddie’s arm, the territorial way she barely left his station, the too sweet smile she gave you as she ate the lunch Eddie made for you. The chit chat that seemed pleasant enough, the not so hidden reminders in her stories that she knew Eddie for longer than you had, better than you did. They had inside jokes, old memories, shared stories.

There was a knock at the door.

An odd thing to hear, on the other side of a walk in refrigerator, but you knew there was only one person it could’ve been. So you sniffed again and swiped meanly at your eyes, leaning against the door, ignoring the chill, the way your cheeks were both hot and cold at the same time.

“I’ll be out in a second,” you called through the steel. “I’m just… trying to find some—” your mind blanked as you looked around the space aimlessly, eyes landing on crates of vegetables. “—some asparagus.”

You made a face, annoyed with yourself for such a lame excuse and you heard a shuffle from outside before a familiar voice came through. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?” Eddie sounded muffled, mainly from the inches of steel and insulation between you but you could still pick up on the concern in his voice.

You sighed, bottom lip wobbling and you opened the door, the brief wash of warm air hitting your cold face. The fridge didn’t lock. Eddie could’ve bathed in whenever he liked. But there was something about the way he’d asked you that had you giving in easier than you thought you would. You stepped back, arms goosepimpled and crossed over your chest as you made room for the boy inside the walk in. Back against the metal racking, your hip bumped against a pallet of butter, boxes of it stacked high. You didn’t look at Eddie not yet.

“Why’re you crying?” Eddie asked gently, ducking down and bending slightly at the knees so he could look at your face, so he could try and coax you into meeting his gaze. It was a soft question, not anywhere near an accusation and he said it so sincerely, like he really wanted to know what was upsetting you.

All you heard was crybabycrybabycrybaby. So you turned your chin and hid your face in your hair, letting the strands stick to your wet cheeks and you swiped at your eyes again, too harsh for Eddie’s liking. Your breath left you in a hiccup, a holding thing that made the boy’s brows pinch together.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie reached out and curled a hand around your wrist, wide and still warmer than your own skin. “Hey, c’mon, c’mere.” The boy pulled you in closer, hands coasting over the apples of your cheeks, tutting softly as he wiped the way the tears there.

You cringed, embarrassed at being caught in such a state but Eddie pushed his thumb into your cheek until you let him lift your face and your gaze met his. He frowned, eyes big and earnest and he made a noise that was meant to soothe. You couldn’t help but lean into his palm, eyes watering again and you moved away, stumbling over your words, not sure if you should be apologising first or asking the questions you didn’t wanna know the answer to.

“God, I’m sorry,” you scrunched your face, mortified. “I’m— I don’t know why I’m getting myself like this, m’tired or something.” Before Eddie could respond you pulled back to stare at him, cheeks hot. “Is Chrissy like… did you and Chrissy— are you—?”

Eddie blinked at you, surprised. “I—”

You regretted it immediately, the accusatory way you asked such a personal question. It had been two months, one date, one kiss. You felt so stupid. “I have absolutely no right to ask you that,” you rushed out, eyes wide. Fuck, you felt worse than before. “I’m sorry, that’s— that's none of my business.”

“Sweetheart, you spent the majority of last night with my tongue in your mouth,” Eddie tried to joke, smiling weakly. “I think you’re allowed to ask that question.”

You looked at him, mournful, the lump still stuck in your throat and an awful feeling of unease clinging to you. You shrugged, a little hopeless. “Were you guys like.. a thing? Are you a thing?”

“No,” Eddie answered, soft and sure. “We’re not. We’ve never been— not like that. Chrissy…” Eddie swallowed and pulled at his apron, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Chrissy just likes to be the centre of attention. And well, I guess you could say, uh, I used to have a crush on her?”

Eddie noticed the way your shoulders tensed. “But that was way, way back in high school. Nothin’ happened. Ever. And— and I don’t want anything to happen now.” Eddie grinned, wry, awkward. “She just likes to make sure she’s got everyone’s attention, y’know?”

You did know.

“You used to make her food too,” you noted sourly and you hated the way your voice came out small, delicate. Moody. “She said she was your favourite.”

“Babe,” Eddie said a little gruffly, fondly. He reached back out, hand catching yours and you let him. He played with your fingers, the ring on your middle one, his touch delicate and comforting. “I’m a cook. I make food for everyone, they just— they just gotta ask me.”

Well, didn’t you feel silly. So you bit a little, heat rising up then back of your neck again, embarrassment tingling, your voice rising. “I don’t know! It could’ve all been part of your— your moves, or something.”

“Moves?” Eddie choked out, incredulous. “Sweetheart, it took me two months to kiss you, you think I’ve got moves?”

You squirmed, embarrassed still. You shrugged, unsure what to say because in your eyes, Eddie had all the moves. You could still remember the way he kissed you, the feel of his hand on your jaw, your waist, in your hair, on your thigh. The way he kissed you between making you your grilled cheese, the bread almost burning as he got too caught up in you, in the way he pressed you back into the counter, dotting kisses over your cheeks, your nose.

“I don’t know,” you said again and you ducked your chin, hiding.

Eddie tsked but it was a soft sound, sympathetic and he pulled at your hand, tugging you into him until you relented. Your face found his chest, nose pushed to his fresh chef whites and he smelled like his cologne, lemongrass and something sweet like leftover icing sugar. He let you hide there instead, your hands clinging to the front of his apron and you only pressed closer when his hands smoothed over your shoulders, climbing down your sides until he could hold you to him. His lips were on your hairline, a little hesitant, because all of this was so new, because you were clearly upset, because he didn’t know what this was yet, how this worked.

“What can I do, hm?” Eddie asked you softly, voice a low murmur. The walk in didn’t seem as cold with the way his nose was pressed to your temple. “What can I do to make you feel better, tell me.”

That hopeless feeling melted away with each pass of Eddie’s hand up and down your back, fingers trailing over the curve of your spine. You mumbled something intelligible, shrugging your shoulders again and hoping that Eddie couldn’t feel the heat that radiated from you. “I dunno,” you whispered. You swallowed, throat tight. You didn't know what to ask for too much, not so soon. “I don't want to— I’m not trying to—”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” You could hear the frown in his voice.

“Last night meant something, right?” You didn’t ask for the world. No labels, not yet. Nothing too scary. Nothing too deep. “That wasn’t just a, uh, one off or whatever?”

Eddie laughed, the sound softened by the way he buried his face in your hair and the arms he’d wrapped around you tightened, squeezing, affectionate. “I have absolutely every intention of doing that with you again…” he murmured, coaxing you out of hiding only to cup your jaw, thumb pushed to your cheek. He grinned down at you, all flirt and charm. “And again and again and again. If you’ll let me.”

It was unnerving, what those words did to you. The tilt of his lips, the pretty cadence of his voice. Eddie’s thumb coasted over the apple of your cheek and suddenly you forgot all about the other waitress who was no doubt still outside in the kitchen. “That sounds nice, yeah.” You nodded, warm all over again, all for the right reasons.

“You gonna let me take you out too?” Eddie asked and he leaned back against the racks, the cold metal doing nothing to deter him as he spread his legs a bit, pulling you between them by the tie of your apron until you were framed by his thighs. Closer, closer. “A proper date this time, please. A movie, some dinner, a walk somewhere real nice so I can kiss you goodnight and all that stuff?”

You grinned, cheeks aching, surprising yourself with the suddenness of it because now? Right then? Nothing else mattered but Eddie. “That sounds even nicer,” you told him and your eyes crinkled with the brightness of your smile. “Please.”

“Can I kiss you now? Been wantin’ to kiss you for ages,” Eddie murmured and his eyes were on your mouth, thumb moving closer to your chin, the tip of it ghosting the curve of your bottom lip and you nodded, eager in a way that should’ve been embarrassing but you pushed yourself to your toes and clung to him a little tighter.

A soft kiss, much, much softer than the ones shared the night before but still not appropriate for the workplace. Especially not a walk-in that was cold enough to make your toes ache. Not that you cared. But Eddie didn’t seem to either, humming in appreciation when you pressed yourself against him, face tilting to the side for him to deepen the kiss a little, lips moving a little more urgently against your own.

“Need to stop,” he breathed as he pulled away, grudgingly, giving in again to press a peck to the corner of your mouth and then another to your cheek. His palms smoothed over your jaw, up across your temples to swipe away the baby hairs there. “Gonna get carried away.”

You felt dizzy, miles and miles away from the kitchen, from that awful feeling, from Chrissy. You knew exactly what he meant.

“Can I make you some food now?” Eddie nosed at your cheek, arms winding around your waist and you felt so adored, the affection pouring from him by the bucket full. “You’ve not eaten all day.”

“Because someone ate my pancakes,” you said sourly and you regretted it immediately. You didn’t want to be the jealous girl, the insecure girl, the petty girl. But Eddie made it very hard to want to share. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Eddie snorted and just kissed your head, a touch so casual it made your heart jump. “C’mon,” was all he said. “Get your butt out of here before you freeze.”

It was easier to shuffle out of the walk-in when Eddie was leading you, his hand holding yours, the burning embarrassment you’d once felt fading to a shameful simmer. Chrissy was still at the boy’s station, picking out pieces of strawberry from the bowl, the plate of pancakes now empty. Steve was placing a bucket of dirty coffee cups into the sink and he looked up as the two of you appeared.

“Oh hey,” he frowned in concern at your red rimmed eyes. “I wondered where you’d gone to, you ok—?”

“Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” Eddie interrupted, smiling as if nothing had happened. He sent Steve a look and Chrissy watched, sucking fruit juice and sugar from her fingers. Eddie grinned at you, squeezing past you and the counter, his hands on your hips as he passed. “Had to lend a helping hand, didn’t I? Short stack.”

Your heart ached, your chest feeling too full with the kindness, the affection. So you could only nod, looking sheepish and even if Steve didn’t believe Eddie, he stole a knowing glance at Chrissy and nodded. The kitchen was filled with the kind of tension that had made you run off in the first place, but the feeling of being out of place disappeared when Steve asked Eddie:

“I’m going for a smoke, you comin’?”

Eddie shook his head and busied himself with pulling an old stool out from Argyle’s prep station. It had one wobbly leg, but you didn’t care. Not when Eddie took your hand and helped you hop onto it, the chair closer to him than the stool Chrissy was sitting on.

“Nah, man,” Eddie said. “M’gonna make my girl some food.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

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suashii · 3 months

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— 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au

note: this is a repost! just wanted to share it again for his birthday

you like the enigma that is suna rintaro.

you aren’t sure exactly what you like about him, but you know that you like him. it’s something that your friends will never let you live down.

you don’t blame them for it—their teasing and the never-ending questions that are thrown at you every time they happen to catch you stealing a glance at him. your infatuation confuses you, too, because suna rintaro is a weird guy—certainly not someone most people would have a crush on.

he comes to class in his pajamas, pokémon pants and a plain hoodie—the hood pulled over his head, scrunched around the edges, the strings tied into a messy bow. you rarely ever see his hair but on the infrequent occasion that you do, it’s never brushed and the dark strands are either tangled or sticking up, out of place. every so often a pair of black-framed lenses are perched on the bridge of his nose, sliding down the slope with the downward tilt of his head. suna has little regard for his appearance and a clear lack of professionalism, but still, you like him.

he sits in the third of four rows in the classroom, the one in front of you. the screen of his laptop is always dimmed but not so much that you can’t see what’s on it. the device never displays the course material, rather, it often plays an episode of whatever anime suna’s currently watching. you’ve never gotten the chance to see if his eyes flit up to glance at the projector or to follow along with the professor’s written examples, but the absence of anything to write with or on gives you the impression that he doesn’t. suna’s priorities aren’t straight, but still, you like him.

he eats alone, at least whenever you see him in the dining hall. you’ve noticed that he leans toward the build-your-own-sandwich place, though you have seen him swap out the subs for a salad or whatever homestyle meal was being served. one thing holds true for whatever he chooses to eat—he stuffs as much food into his mouth as he can. it can be cute, the way his cheeks puff up and his lips pout out, but his technique leads to an inevitable mess. any sauce or crumbs left behind on his face are wiped away with the back of his hand instead of a napkin. suna doesn’t know the first thing about table manners, but still, you like him.

you like suna and you’ve yet to figure out why.

you plan to change that today—the liking him part or uncovering the reason behind your feelings, you’re not sure, but your professor has given you the perfect excuse to figure out what the hell is going on.

“what are you doing?” your friend asks, the rustling of your papers catching her attention. you don’t answer but your eyes do dart down and slightly to the right where suna’s sitting. words aren’t needed for her to know what’s running through your head. “seriously?”

the girl easily pieces together that you’re on your way to recruit suna as your partner for the upcoming assignment. so does your companion sitting beside her. he speaks up this time. “you’re going to risk your grade over a crush?”

“it might not be that bad,” you shrug, the weight of your bag making the action more difficult than it should have been. “i’ll talk to you two later.”

they share a knowing glance before waving you off. you can feel their eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as you make your way down the step and past your classmates to steal the seat next to suna. as usual, his eyes are glued to the screen ahead of him, intently following the events of the animated show playing on it.

you’ve never sat this close to him before. your proximity warrants you a closer look at him. he looks more delicate than you ever thought he was—skin that seems as though it was carved from marble and incredibly unique greyish yellow eyes. he’s pretty and you could stare at him forever but you decide that would be creepy. instead, you lightly tap his shoulder to gain his attention.

suna’s finger reaches out to click the space bar on his keyboard to pause his anime. he turns to you, countenance blank.

“suna, right?” you ask despite knowing his name. “do you want to work on the paper together?”

a short moment passes before his reply. “sure.”

“great!” you’re not so sure his agreeance is a good thing or if it’ll end with you doing the entirety of the essay, but he doesn’t need to know that you and just about everyone else doubt his work ethic. “so, we can pick any topic that falls under the umbrella of-”

“the edo period,” he finishes your sentence.

you blink and nod, surprised at suna’s correct interruption. you wouldn’t admit it to your friends, but it’s become a habit for your eyes to wander to suna during class. you were sure he spent the entire time up until now preoccupied with his anime. you look to the board—it isn’t written there. your gaze whizzes over to his laptop—he hasn’t changed tabs on the device. he must have actually been listening to the lecture.

so you do pay attention in here, you think with a breathy laugh.

“it was a filler episode so i took one of my earbuds out.” his unexpected statement makes you stiffen. did you say that out loud? right beside him? you turn to apologize for the jab but suna doesn’t look offended; he’s grinning. “i’m usually not that attentive.”

you huff out a laugh. despite the comment, suna’s unforeseen diligence—albeit short-lived—is enough to give you a little hope about the paper. it’s possible that he isn’t as unproductive as he appears—maybe his priorities aren’t askew.

the scale that is your like of suna seems to be weighing heavily on the ‘you totally like him!!’ side. you clear your throat and shake your head to rid your mind of thoughts of him. “anything specific you want to write about?”

you and suna spend the last few minutes of class discussing your project. he brings up multiple interesting topics that the two of you could explore. it’s impressive and he exceeds any expectations you had of him. you can feel your pulse quickening with every word he speaks until it jumps at your professor’s dismissal of class.

for the first time ever, you’re not rushing to get out of the building.

as you pack up your belongings, your traitorous eyes drift to suna’s figure. you didn’t notice it earlier, perhaps because you arrived later than him this once, but his usual attire is traded in for some still comfy sweatpants and an oversized crewneck today. you voice your surprise. “no pokémon pajamas today, huh?”

he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “sorry to disappoint.”

you’re far from disappointed. while you have no problem with his typical apparel, the simple outfit looks good on him. the sleeves hang low on his arms, hiding his hands so that he has to make an effort to grab anything. it’s cute, you think. the ensemble isn’t much of a step up from what he typically wears, but maybe he isn’t as careless about his appearance as you thought.

interacting with him closely has done nothing to shake your unexplainable feelings for the man. if anything, all it did was make you tiptoe farther and farther to the edge of the diving board. there’s one more thing you have to see before you dive into the deep end of what is suna rintaro.

“hey, do you want to work on the paper over lunch?”

hope you enjoyed this short little fic! if so, consider reblogging and telling me about your favorite part :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff

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calummss · 5 months

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Him & I | Kai Anderson

masterlist

summary: you came to kai like you were an angel sent from god. he finally met his match. you wanted to get revenge and he cleared the path

pairing: fem! reader x kai anderson

words: 2.9k

a/n: kai is everything i despise in a man yet i cannot stop thinking about him. fuck my rights i’ll make you a manwhich like the woman i’m supposed to be NOT PROOFREAD TBH

Gluttony is a sin. So is sloth. Eating an entire bag of chips was not healthy. Sitting on the couch from dawn to dusk, only getting up to relieve yourself, was not good. But who listens to God these days anyways.

knock knock

‘Be right there!’ You yelled, hoping whomever was at the door could hear you and would wait until you had mentally prepared yourself to get up from your nest. You pressed pause of Golden Girls, placed your bag of gluttony on the table and brushed the remaining crumbs on your finger on your back thigh. Thankfully you showered this morning so whomever you greeted wouldn’t be welcomed with the smell of your tiredness. It was just one of those days where doing nothing was the most satisfying for the soul. Keeping the ripples of the sea of stress at bay, hoping that the storm wouldn’t take over.

Through the small peephole of the front door you saw an unfamiliar man with kool aid blue hair in a suit who was swaying his body as he waited to face the owner. ‘Jesus christ,’ you cursed under your breath, letting your hand slide over your face. Not Jehovah witnesses again. You had told them to not come back but when life serves no purpose we mainly cling to the unimportant aspects of life and let small parts become our worst traits.

You opened the door, dropping your droopy expression and replacing it with a hostile smile. Kindness: America’s number one trait making it an aggravating society.

‘Hi,’ you grinned at him, ‘not interested.’

The man blinked at you, wrinkles on his forehead reminding you of the ripples in your soul as he breathed out a laugh. ‘You don’t even know what I was going to say, Ma’am.’

‘Call it my gift.’

‘You must think I’m in some kind of cult,’ he smiled, ‘I can assure you I’m not. My name is Kai Anderson and I was hoping I could talk to you about my plans for this town so I might be able to persuade you into voting for me to become a member of the town council.’

‘Oh.’

‘Can I come in?’

‘I suppose…’ You were unsure but the thought of your pepper spray in the kitchen drawer made you feel safer, in case anything went wrong, so you resorted back to the smile you first gave him. ‘Of course. Come in…?’

‘Kai Anderson.’

‘Right, Kai. Can I call you Kai? I’m Y/n Blythe. You can call me Y/n. Oh my I am rambling,’

Kai came in as you stepped aside to open up the door for him. He kindly took off his shoes. A rule you had but hadn’t seen most Americans do. You looked back at him as you started to head to the kitchen to make sure you wouldn’t lose him. You immediately opened up the cupboard to grab a mug.

‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee would be nice. Black please and thank you.’

‘No problem,’

‘I have to say,’ he placed his folded hands on top of the counter as he watched you get his coffee ready. ‘You are the first person in this neighbourhood to invite me in and to welcome me so kindly.’

You watched him as you grabbed another mug to make yourself a drink too.

‘Most think my ideas are too radical. Too oppressive. Too different. These people preach about change every day but when I give them a chance to vote for change they ignore me.It’s like these people get off on living in his prison courtyard they’ve created.’

‘So what are your goals, Kai?’ You took a sip of your piping hot drink after handing him his own. ‘To strengthen this town’s safety? God forbid this cluster of people need to be…polished.’

Kai’s face somewhat softened. ‘That’s exactly what I said…’

So when Kai talked about his idea you listened. To every word, to every detail. Kai was going to make this town safe again. And for some reason you couldn’t explain, you believed him. Every single word he said to you in the confidence of your own house, you believed.

‘By the hope you don’t mind me saying this but you are so beautiful and I would hate myself for not asking but am I able to take you out to a café this week ‘ He asked, his hazel eyes burning into your soul, making those ripples turn flat as he gazed at you like a had witnessed a deer in the wild. ‘I just, you’re really beautiful and kind and your beliefs about this town have drawn me to you,’ Kai had gaped at you the moment you had opened the door to him. Eyes shining in the sunlight; you looked like an angel. Perhaps an angel God had sent him to. Like he was supposed to find you. For him to find his own angel.

When you went on that date with Kai, it had turned into three more the following two weeks. He mentioned that he had a group of friends that are helping him with the campaign and the more he revealed about it, the closer you got to the truth, at least that is what you thought. It sounded like a cult whenever he rambled on about anything that involved these ‘friends’ and whether or not it was true, it was something you wanted to find out. It took Kai persistent asking and a little push to allow you to ultimately bring you to his house where for some reason you felt weirdly comfortable. The friends or members you came to know were Winter, his sister, Beverly, Ivy, Gary, Samuel, Meadow and Tex, who had been tending to Kai like servants since you had entered his house which instantly confirmed your suspicions. But it didn’t scare you away. A man able to convince the partly smart people had to confirm some sort of high intelligence and if Kai wanted to make you part of his team or not, in your heart you had already made up your mind: you wanted to join. What did you have left to lose? A life? Family? Job? Perhaps.But when does another opportunity like this present itself. To become infatuated with a dangerously powerful man? Never. Maybe you could change him if you truly wanted to but right now, he was perfect. You would become his angel and he’d be your cult leader.

‘Kai,’ you said as you all gathered across the couches, some of their heads tuning your way. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course, Y/n. Anything,’

‘Are you guys behind the murders that have been happening?’

Now every head turned your way. You could hear the outside wind blowing through the trees, uneven breaths as you uttered your question. Why was it so shocking? They were the murderers. You knew it and sooner or later someone else would’ve found out.

‘It’s fine if you are. You don’t have to deny it.’ You saidly, letting out a small chuckle. ‘I saw a clown costume stashed on the couch and I saw one of them go into Chang's house.’

You saw Meadow stare at the ground. Must’ve been her. Kai looked back at the costume you had nudged your eyes at and confirmed it was Meadows when he gave her a cold stare she didn’t notice.

‘Why?’ Kai turned his head back to look at you with a weirdly twisted smile that made your stomach churn. ‘Do you like that we kill people? Does that excite you?’

‘Honestly I like it and yes. I mean I was attracted to you before but now I really fucking like you,’

His eyebrows softened as you said your words.

‘Can I come and watch a killing?’

Kai had given the others a look to which they all started moving towards the stairs, further confirming the authority he had over them. In a matter of seconds the basement was empty and his presence within the walls grew dramatically. Like smoke he expanded into every crevice of the room, hovering over you like poisonous gas that crept into every cell of your body. Watching your every move like he was a deity. ‘You want to watch a killing?’

‘Yes.’ You replied.

‘What if you were to pick out the person to be killed?’

‘I think I’d like that even more,’ you could feel a tinge of warmth collect on the apples of your cheeks, avoiding eye contact as Kai’s eyes held the most sinful stare you had seen.

‘Who?’

You looked up from between your eyebrows, ‘My ex-boyfriend,’ you started already seeing Kai’s nostrils flare with jealousy. ‘Cheated on me when I gave him nothing but the woman I thought he deserved. Now he deserves to die.’

Kai came awfully close, a chill taking over your body as he placed his large hands on your arms with a firm grip. Tighter than normal; possessive, like a hunter holding its fragile prey. ‘Tonight. Meet us here at 11pm and I swear you will get your revenge, little angel.’ Lust protruded between your frames, like hot heavy steam that fogged up your glasses if you go too close, but went back when you stepped back trying to calm your nerves. Like a priest in a confessional booth he made you nervous. Like he could see into the most intimate parts of your soul; feel you; see you like no one could. The way his voice penetrated your ears telling you what to do. Siren-like commands that you had complete control over yet wanted to treat him like your leader.

Later that evening when you returned back to Kai’s house, you saw everyone dressed in the clown costumes you had seen entering and exiting the Chang’s house only now there were less red stains than before. Meadow lifted up a black trash back with a fading smile. ‘Kai only gave me a few hours' notice. Hope it fits.’ You opened the bag to find a sort of skirt and top with pink and black stripes with a mask that reminded you of a scarier version of a childhood clown you had once encountered at an amusement park where you momentarily got separated from your parents leaving you terrified and vulnerable. Getting changed went by quick and by them time you had gotten into your new outfit, Winter hd already started the van so that as soon as you entered the back of the vehicle, Winter started driving down similar streets you took whilst dating the boy who was in for a sweet treat tonight. Kai kept eyeing you the entire time. Maybe he tried to find a momentary weakness; a flinch of regret, anything he deemed not worthy, but he never found an ounce of repression, only the focus of a woman who knew exactly what and how she was going to do it. The walk to your ex’s house was filled with a relaxing quietness. The calm before the adrenaline would rush through your veins ready to lift you to the clouds as you took in the feeling of satisfaction. The lights were on in his bedroom, the room you had found him in inches deep in the girl you had thought to be your friend at the time. The door creaked almost too loud as Samuel pried open the door with a bolt, waving the rest of the group towards him as he checked the inside of the kitchen. Samuel let you lead the way with the floor plans ingrained into your mind as you had the others on your trail awaiting you to let them know when you stood outside his door. Marshall—said ex-boyfriend was blasting old rap music so you knew he was showering. He said the shower provided him with the need to rap and listen to old hip hop. One of his quirks you had learned to love but now loathed. With the song changing to Eminem’s discography, the music you sang together later to find him fucking her to Evil Seed brought up a fire in your stomach ready to unleash. Kai came up behind you and placed his hand on your shoulder telling you to go in. Feeling a bump of confidence, you opened the door and walked across his room to where his bathroom door stood shut. You decided to not wear the mask Meadow had given you to let Marshall feel calm before real intentions were laid before him.

You opened the door, Marshall’s shower steam covering his body behind the glass, eyes shut, mouth moving to the songs. You walked over slowly, yet he never noticed anything until you had said Hello, inches away from him. Marshall jumped back almost losing balance, wide eyes and raised eyebrows relaxing when he realised it was you, a faint chuckled escaping him as he reached for the music box to turn down the music.

‘What are you doing here?’ He asked nicely, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

‘I missed you.’

‘You left me.’

‘I know. I think it was a mistake.’

He didn’t answer.

‘I wasn’t good enough and should’ve been better so that you wouldn’t have to look for the missing part of me in other women. My fault for not being good enough.’

‘You really want to get back together?’

‘Yes,’ you came closer, reaching for his cock to palm him. He lifted his head, lip quivering as he fought to keep his eyes open. He lowered his head to say something by the way he had opened his mouth but when he opened his eyes again, his knotted eyebrows staring past you had made you aware that the others must’ve been behind you by now.

‘Who are they?’

‘My friends.’ You continued to pump his cock, giving you complete control over him with a single motion. You could feel Kai’s eyes slicing into your back but it didn’t matter. You weren’t enjoying stroking his cock because you wanted him, all you needed was control and for a man irresistible to a handjob it was the perfect weapon to be used. ‘They’re here to help me.’

‘With what?’

‘To kill you.’

‘What.’

‘You hurt me, Marshall. You tossed me aside and fucked another woman. You broke my heart.’ Your grip tightened around him, the pressure inching him closer to coming. ‘Now I have to do the same. To move on.’

‘What—What the fuck are you on about, Y/n.’ He tried to push you away but you pulled him closer with a tug. ‘Get out.’

‘No.’

‘Leave or I’ll call the fucking cops.’

‘Fine,’ you said. ‘Can I take what’s mine at least?’ You stared past the others into the old room you were sure still had a few of your items you had forgotten about.

‘Sure but after I want you to fucking leave.’

‘Okay.’ You smiled.

A low-pitched scream filled the bathroom door as you stared at Marshall whose eyes rolled into the back of his head, hand flying to his front only to find his cock in your hands, red dripping from both of you as you threw it over your shoulder. ‘I’ll take the rest of you with me.’

After you had gotten your revenge on Marshall, you stood around him in a circle, covered in blood splatters and sweat pearls.

‘That was the most beautiful thing I have ever done and seen.’ You breathed, catching your breath as you stared at the bloody sight.

Kai stared at you with heart eyes. He could’ve gotten down on one knee that second and asked you to marry him but the thought of you palming Marshall less than twenty minutes ago had made his eyes go dark, a wave of anger and jealousy consuming him entirely as he stormed off downstairs. You immediately followed him to see him slide off his clown head, baby hairs sticking to his temples, nostrils flaring like they had before at his home. He was angry.

‘Why did you do that?’ He growled.

‘I did it because Marshall cannot say or do anything when his cock feels good. I wanted to control him one last time. Why? Did it make you jealous?’

‘Yes it fucking did?’ He bellowed, spit coming from his mouth as he strutt towards you, pushing you into the wall, his hand around your throat as he came dangerously close. ‘You tell me you basically like me and then touch another man’s cock. Are you a whore? Why did you do it!’

‘Would it make you feel better if I touched you now?’

‘Don’t play with me.’ He snarled, his grip on your throat now so tight you could feel the air thinning. ‘You’re mine.’

‘I know.’

‘Say it!’

‘I’m yours.’

‘And don’t you forget it.’ He pulled you to his lips by your throat, releasing the pressure that had bound you to half breaths.

He was your leader and you were his angel. In the end it was him and you. Only a love that you could understand and that was fine because you didn’t want to share any part of him anyway.

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bigjigglylad · 2 months

Text

Lovingly Fed ❤️

Oh to wake up being cuddled, to be called warm and soft

Every time you try to move, a faint “noooo not yet” is heard coming from a sleepy voice

Their hands squeeze you slightly harder, easily convincing you to snuggle just a little longer

A gentle massage across your chubby tummy as they wiggle closer to you.

Oh to waddle to the kitchen as the air slowly begins to smell of fresh pastries

A hug from behind and a squeeze of the belly while you mix a bowl of soon-to-be buttery pancakes

A bump and a giggle while they try to make their way around you

“This kitchen is starting to get too small” they tease, poking your wobbly chub.

Oh to sit down and stare into their beautiful eyes while you take bite after bite

As you begin to slow down, they sit next to you and rub your tummy

“Oh! You got a crumb there” they say, pointing to your lip. Before you have time to wipe it, they kiss you softly

They rest their head on your shoulder while you eat seconds… or maybe thirds? Who cares, no one is counting.

Oh to lie down on the couch and watch them swiftly follow

They lie down on top of you, their hands tracing your stretch marks

“You’re so comfy” they say, barely awake

Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours

Oh to be awakened by a gurgle

It seems your body has gotten used to the routine

“I think someone is hungry” a soft voice chimes in

They quickly get up and return with some snacks.

“I’ll help you up!” Comes the same sweet tone, just with more energy

It takes a little longer then yesterday to sit you up, but that’s ok, that’s what you thought the day before too

A light pant and a happy sigh follows as the snacks are being opened

Once again, those loving eyes stare into yours as you begin to eat

“Open up” leads to a sweet dessert going into your mouth

They rub your belly as you chew

“Think you can fit a little more?” They say after awhile

Your stomach is tight but how could you say no to those eyes

Day after day, pound after pound

You could find nothing that would make a person happier

Your appetite grows, but so does their love for you

Oh to be lovingly fed ❤️

#bhm weight gain #fat belly #fat bhm #fatten me up #chubby #feedee belly #stuffing #weight gain #feedee encouragement #feeding kink #intentional weight gain #wg text

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stellasvault · 7 months

Text

• ravioli and two glasses of water

my first ever hobie x reader drabble!! ☀️

pairings: hobie brown x blk!fem!reader

desc: 💜 it’s one of the rare occasions where hobie takes u to a fancy restaurant instead of a simple pirated movie, but it’s not going as well as you planned..

warnings: fluff so sweet you’ll get cavities, sfw, reader is briefly referred to as a lady

notes: i’ve been thinking about this trope for a while lmao 😭 um also this is barely proofread so pls excuse any errors/bad writing!!

—————————————————————————

“hobie, are you seriously still choosing?” you ask, huffing at the sight of your boyfriend sitting across from you, still choosing his meal for the night.

“hush love,” hobie said, still distracted by the large menu of italian delicacies in his large, dark hands. “gotta make sure i pick the right food so i don’t waste none of it, yeah?”

you sighed and ran your hands down your blood red dress, which looked well with your soft brown skin. you took in your surroundings for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. it was a fancy, yet cozy italian restaurant that was lit with candles and soft lamps, the perfect romantic setting. you also couldn’t help to notice how beautiful hobie looked under the lighting. his hooded eyelids showing off his lengthy eyelashes, his lip ring shimmering in the light. the smell of sauces and seasonings lingered on your nose, the hollow feeling in your stomach seemed to swallow you up.

you heard hobie hum. “hm, the cheesy garlic bread sounds nice.” he put down his menu before opening his mouth again to say,

“you’re overreacting about this whole ‘nice restaurant’ thing, sweets. it’s really not tha’ important.” he grinned at you before you rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the male waiter at your side, who clearly heard every word hobie had said.

you plastered a shiny smile for the employee, “hi! i think we’re ready to order, aren’t we, hobie?” you glared at him as you said his name, symbolizing your annoyance and anger at him. you subtly kicked his shin from under the table.

“sure, what can i get you two?” the waiter asked. to your surprise, he had an american accent and spoke in a stiff voice.

“i-“ you began, but hobie had already decided to order.

“i’ll take some cheesy garlic bread, if you don’t mind, and me and the lady will be sharing the large lobster ravioli.” hobie smirked as he said this, the waiter scribbling the order down.

“of course, it’ll be right with you shortly.” the waiter answered before bowing slightly and going to talk to a nearby chef. meanwhile, you were almost fuming.

“aw, lovey, why so blue?” hobie mockingly pouted before chucking almost silently. you squeezed the seat under you, cursing at him under your breath.

“trust me, restaurants like these ain’t all tha’.” hobie continued, ignoring your looming anger.

“can’t you just act respectful for once, hobie? this isn’t one of your band gigs!” you scolded him like a mother, it was only amusing to him.

hobie lightly kicked your leg in response, as your cheesy garlic bread had already arrived.

“thank you..” you nodded at the waiter awkwardly, taking the basket of the delicious bread.

hobie smirked at your sudden silence. the only sound between you two was both of your chewing, hobie’s appetite being bigger, his eating was more aggressive, his plump lips covered in melted cheese and bread crumbs.

you sighed. “hobie, pass me the basket.” you tried to hide the anger in your voice with no avail, your teeth gritted together.

he played with his lip ring using his tongue in response. “hm, why don’t you just come sit next to me then? it’s not practical for you to sit all the way over there.” he explained with a smirk.

“that’s not practical, hobie! i’m supposed to be sitting here!” you were full-on whining like a spoiled little kid now. you hated how you sounded like a little jerk, but you just wanted to have a nice date, was that too much to ask?

well, for hobie, it was definitely a big ask.

“you’re not supposed to be sitting over there in my book, lovey.” he snickered, patting the spot next to him. “here you go, enough room here, right?”

your mouth opened to shoot back with a comeback, ready to make him eat his words. but for some reason it felt as though you weren’t controlling your body as you obediently sat down at his side.

hobie clucked his tongue in satisfaction. “see, darling? was it that hard?” he asked in a mocking baby voice.

it was lucky that before you could throw a fit, the same waiter that had taken your order came with a large plate of mouth-watering ravioli and buttered lobster. the waiter swiftly put down the dish before filling up both your waters with fresh sparkling water.

“thank you, sir.” you thanked the waiter, hobie showing his agreement with a nod. the waiter nodded back and disappeared.

“looks better than i thought.” hobie noted appreciatively before digging in and shoveling ravioli in his mouth. you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your boyfriend devouring his food, sauce staining his lips.

you lifted your glass of water to your lips before taking a sip. the fizzy flavor exploded in your mouth, your tongue getting tingles all over.

“you’re right, hobie. it does look pretty good.” you agreed, picking up your fork and taking a bite of the hot lobster. you immediately marveled at the delicious buttery flavor.

you hummed in content. this wasn’t too bad, right?

you took your fork again to try the ravioli instead. but of course, right before the fork could reach your lips, hobie grabbed the fork from your hand and put it in his mouth instead. he excruciatingly appreciated the taste with exaggerated moans of delight and slowly licking his lips. you stared at him in shock. was he serious? doing this in a nice restaurant like this?

“i could get used to this,” hobie’s voice muffled by the food in his mouth, “we should go here more often.”

—————————————————————————

that’s it! that’s the end of my first ever written thing-a-ma-jig!

thanks so much for reading! i appreciate it so much! :)

• 💜💜💜

#across the spiderverse x reader #atsv x fem reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #x black fem reader #first write lmfao

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ddora-kken · 17 days

Text

PRECIOUS POOKIE .‘.’.‘

a/n: it's a really weird thing i puked out but I hope yall like this lmao

you have a lot of patience in store, but those two idiots make you run short on supplies. and it’s not funny anymore.

it all just… started. at random. okay, not at that random, because yuuji entered the kitchen and that’s when it went down. “yah! are you making us lunch?!” his eyes light up the second he sees you making any type of food. the excitement quickly wears off when he notices how focused you are on peeling an orange. so this is what’s going on. “you could make us some too… he won’t eat all of it either way!” “shut the fuck up or i’ll push those peels down your throat.” you don’t have time for yuuji’s teasing or for nobara’s evil laughs. you don’t have patience either, since almost all of it got used for convincing one special human being to drink a glass of water. an incredibly special human being. at least to you. the rest can go fuck themselves. or at least you tell them so every time, leaving some crumbs of food for them, too. “simp.” nobara wastes no time and gangs up with yuuji, just to see you riled up and letting your guard down. “fuck off!” the irritated growls of suffering you let out couldn’t be more of an evidence for your feelings. you know damn well it’s too obvious you like and favourite him, but dang it, do they have to expose you like that?! “it’s okay, we’ve known it since day one that you two would eventually end up together,” nobara explains, shrugging and stealing one slice of strawberries. she doesn’t react at your terrifying glances and just continues, chewing on the occasionally stolen slices. “the way you look at him like he’s a precious, innocent, small pookie tells everything. you’re terrible at hiding your feelings, fam.” the silence that falls after her words is piercing through everyone’s ears. nobara knows damn well she won this one… but you know damn well you’ll win the entire war. “so what? even if i look at him like he’s a precious pookie, it’s because he. is. a. precious. pookie.” the last few words you accent with really loud and aggressive cuts. you don’t spare them a stare, yet you continue working on the lunch and explaining yourself. “and you know what? i’m the only honoured one who could say that about him without getting punched in the guts.” with that, you take the plate full of fruits in your hand and leave the kitchen, making the two idiots look after you, flabbergasted and disgusted by the way you and megumi are whipped for each other.

taglist: @delzinrowe just because i can hehe

@ ddora-kken / zarazmnie-cos 2024

#fics: jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #fics: megumi fushiguro

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jenokoi · 1 year

Text

How is it (the situation) affecting you, and how to move on.

GENERAL TAROT READING BY JENOKOI

Hi. This is quite unexpected, I was not planning on making this reading at all. But here we are, staring one another, you with a question and me with a fear of messing up your answer. However, I am confident this will find those who are meant to read it. Without further ado, tonight we will have a sneak peak on how a certain situation is affecting you, whenever you are aware of it or not, and how to move on (were you wish to do so). Don’t fret if we poke a few traumas here and there, I can not control what I’m told. It is a bit extensive, so please take only what resonates with you and leave the rest for your fellow companions.

That said, there are vague mentions of sexual assault and hints at eating disorders, so if you’re not comfortable with said topics please do not read.

Please take a deep breath and get comfortable. Let your intuition guide you to the answer you seek in the pictures below. Take as much time as you need.

PILE ONE > PILE TWO > PILE THREE

My tarot readings are guided by the current energy of my subject in question and my own spirit guides. Energies are prone to change based on our actions, and thus nothing is truly set on stone. Please take only what resonates, this is a general reading. It’s okay to not feel drawn to any of the images. If you have to force it into the narrative of your life, then it might not be for you. These readings are for entertainment purposes only.

HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?

You feel abandoned, left behind or ignored by someone who was supposed to love and care for you unconditionally. You feel like someone broke a promise made to you. As if you had been led on with a blindfold just to find yourself completely alone in an empty room, an empty paradise.

Some of you might be the eldest child or a role model to a younger family member. You have been left behind, yet a part of you still believes whoever abandoned you will come back. You might have been the second choice or someone is in the position you were told was to be yours. Nonetheless, you still hold onto this person/situation and refuse to let go despite the exit sign being right in front of you. You know there are better things awaiting for you on the other side. In your mind, you know what must be done, how the story ends. But your heart holds onto the faintest of flames in the hopes of a fire to burn every obstacle in your way.

Either someone you trust is leading you on, or you have been warned of what will happen regarding the situation by a male energy.

You might have developed really bad eating habits since the situation started. You indulge in addictions to fill the emptiness left by the excitement of a promised destiny yet to manifest. To calm the anxiety of waiting you abuse of your body and take it to its limits. You are a prisoner of your emotions, ignoring evidence and warnings, accusing your mind of being too critical, skeptical. You turn your back to the truth and keep on holding to the situation (or person).

“I can leave when I want, so I’ll be okay with one more.” Your childhood traumas are haunting your present self. Especially those related to your fatherly figure growing up. You might have been very loved by your father during your child years before he abandoned you or left you stranded. Yet you were told by everyone he loved you the most. You have issues letting go. You believe in a love that can’t be seen because you were told you don’t need to feel or receive it for it to be real. You just need to know it’s there and that’s enough.

You gather every small move, every little bread crumb, and make of it a feast. You are holding onto ideas and no proof. This situation is making you delusional. You grab pieces left behind rather than given to you and call them gifts. This situation could be taken place at work or in a religious environment. You are making a big deal out of nothing. And every time you realize you are moving on you find another reason to come back.

If we’re being honest, you don’t want to move on, but there’s nothing you can do at all regarding the situation even if you decide to stay, and that frustrates you a lot. “If given the chance.” You want (yearn) for something out of this situation that you can’t have. You want to be the only choice. But you are afraid of the consequences were you to act upon your emotions. You are scare of getting hurt. You don’t think you are strong enough to face the consequences, but you are strong enough to not give up so easily.

This situation could be an affair of sorts. Your competition might know of you or of the situation. “You are not welcomed.” In case of an affair or something related to a relationship of three, you don’t think your competition is deserving of the subject of your affections. You believe them trapped, and that you could make them happier.

Whispers: darling, if they wanted, they would.

HOW TO MOVE ON (FROM THE SITUATION).

Take a fucking break and stop consuming so much tarot readings in the hopes of getting a different reading from the one two posts ago. Stop feeding onto your delusions, please. Take back control of your impulses and addictions, return to the mentality of “if it’s not doing me good then I shouldn’t continue,” please. It’s all about using reason to cut the negativity out of your life.

You might have been in a low energy as of late, often wanting to be left alone and leaving things for later (your room must be a mess), not necessary out of sadness though. You have been overthinking every action and fighting your mind took a toll on you. Sometimes to find the problem one must pull from the root.

It’s time to open your eyes and see that you have been drinking from an empty cup. There’s nothing there for you but what you have made yourself believe in. You were not invited to the party, your presence was not needed nor warranted. You are not supposed to be in this situation because there’s nothing here for you. It’s not yours to fight for and it’s not yours to win. You have been ignoring the truth waiting for it to be a lie, and you have been surrounding yourself with little lies that you have made them your truth. Even if it hurts, you are to look at the situation through reality and not your own distorted view.

Walk away from your own make believe world and you will see how clear the signs become. Stop projecting your ideas onto the situation (or person).

It’s time to face old habits and acknowledge how they are slowly deteriorating you. Love is not something you can’t see. Love can be found in memories, in actions, in words. Loves needs validation every once in a while, not because we must give it, but because we love so much we just have to scream it, have to show it, have to tell it. When someone loves you, you don’t doubt it. When someone cares for you, you are not afraid to ask of it.

You have to get comfortable with the dark energy within you so that you can learn to protect yourself with it. Learn your past, discover where your obsessions come from and understand how you can prevent being a victim of them.

You are unable to have commitment in a relationship because you must have control at all times of those who have a piece of your heart. You force your own idea of someone onto them and leave when they don’t act accordingly to your script. You don’t know how to receive love. You grew up thinking love should not be received, just acknowledge. And while it might take a while, you have the strength to grow your heart alongside your mind.

The seeds planted during your childhood have grown, some beautifully, some slowly, others even venomous. A few withered in the shadows. It’s time to put them under the sun and help them grow. Butterflies will arrive on their own, at their own time.

You wish for a change in this situation, blindly dancing with the devil. You refuse to move one because part of you, like a fool, believes you will receive your reward for waiting like a good kid.

Love shouldn’t make you feel like the bad guy.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PILE II

HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?

This situation makes you feel alive, desired, wanted. You might even receive compensation from it, both financially or emotionally. You are becoming dependent of this situation. It’s euphoric, blinds you with excitement, carries you into a high. Some of you might consume drugs, could be weed or cocaine. This situation feels similar to the story of Alice In Wonderland.

Some of you might video call with someone or exchange nudity content through messages to another participant of the situation. Sexual innuendo warning: a partner might be really good at oral or constantly in the mood. Nevertheless, this situation makes you feel extremely desired and above the competition.

Funnily enough, this situation also makes you feel like less. As if you are not interesting nor cared of as a person but an object to lust after. You feel reduced to how you look rather than to what you can make. You might be afraid of showing your artistic side or ideas. You feel the best participant to a category you don’t think you deserve. You are far more than that, and are not receiving the compensation for all the effort you give. You feel as if your thoughts have no importance, your opinions only for the deaf. You overthink a lot and act as if you care none.

People might say bad/rude things about you behind your back, some even to your face. You might be in a rowdy and raucous environment. Your situation is like fireworks, pretty in it’s appearance, loud in its path, and brief in its high.

Your feelings are in disarray. You don’t know if what you feel for others or what others feel for you is love or lust, if it’s genuine or a parasite trying to suck your blood. You don’t know if they (or a certain person) sees you as a true friend or someone they just want to fuck. You also feel jealousy, a lot of it. Some of you might have stomach ache as of late. Others might be starving yourselves to fit a criteria.

Despite being a favorite, there seems to be a lot of competition regarding your goals. Some of you might constantly feel dizzy, you might like the act of eating a cake more than the cake itself (a rebellious act).

You feel like a fool who tries too hard and only embarrass themselves the more they talk, the more honest they act. There is someone you are trying to impress but they don’t return your affection/interest. This person might always be surrounded by people or talking to someone.

Some of you might be in the fashion business. Modeling, to be more precise. Your situation surrounds you of people trying to survive on their own twisted ways. Prostitutes. Teamwork is not prompted, and often those who play dirty are victorious.

You feel dirty and alone. Cheated on something. You were promised Wonderland and were given the bottom of the rabbit hole. For some, money ties you down to this situation. You feel a product to a store. For some of you, you are dealing with a player, for others, this is a career or project situation. You might feel controlled by a male energy.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT

Some of you might have been victims to sexual abuse and assault, could have been continuous from a young age or an event past the age of sixteen. You might be forced to coexist with your assaulter, either physically or mentally. You don’t feel like you deserve/want to be protected or cared for.

You feel like you aren’t and will never be enough. Someone not worth of respect. “Your body is what gives you value, not your mind, not your heart, but what’s between your open legs.” You don’t think you can reach your dreams. You don’t think to be the person to make them real.

You might be haunted by a male energy, and people’s opinions about you matter more than the love you give yourself. You are scared of growing old and losing your beauty.

HOW TO MOVE ON (FROM THE SITUATION).

You are a prisoner to society, to the male gaze, and you must break free of it before you can learn to forgive. It sounds stupid to you, but that same reason is why you are all so fucking depressed. You dislike men, you find them disgusting, but you are noting without them. If they don’t desire you, it means you are not hot enough. If they don’t come onto you, then you are not worth the time. You are nothing unless a man tells you you are his everything.

And eat/drink your fucking protein because you are a shivering wreck.

You don’t have to find value in your mind or your body or your heart. You have to accept that you won’t fit everyone’s taste and that’s t okay, because you’ll be you, and you only need to fit yourself.

You want to be taken care of, but you must learn how to by yourself first before you let anyone do so. Otherwise, anyone will easily sell you a nightmare dressed as a dream. You must break your dependency on external masculine energy.

You have become comfortable on the role of the victim, and thus you refuse to fight for what you want. “It won’t matter what I do, nothing will change.”

It’s a big wall to break through, but once you do, life will make sense. You will realize you are a little less afraid, a little more vulnerable. Once you break free, you will see how the world changes in an instant. How your feelings have power, your voice has strength, and your hand has the gift of giving love to all that it touches, regardless if it’s made of mud or gold. You will be your best friend and your grandest rival; not someone you want to defeat, but who constantly defies you to improve. You will see your dreams stay as they are, drifting away in the sky because you don’t fly towards them. You’ll allow yourself to be understood, that’s okay to simply feel without a need to explain.

Once you start to work for yourself with yourself, you will flourish into a beauty that has no weight, no standard, no criteria but that of simply being. You will fall in love with yourself and the world will follow in a breath.

And some wounds might never heal, some scars will forever mark your skin. You don’t have to forgive them, but you must forgive yourself. My dear, your karma will find them when you stop holding on to it.

You wish for revenge regarding this situation. Someone ruined your inner child, and you can’t let go until justice has been served. However, all those negative emotions are only attracting negative outcomes. Some victories are attained when you leave the battlefield and let your enemies end themselves.

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PILE III

HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?

Why are you even reading this man, you clearly don’t want to move on. You truly believe you can work your way into saving this. You don’t want to change shit, you just want to fix whatever is going on and continue on as if nothing ever happened. But, if you already fucked up enough times, and shit is just not working out for you, then it might be time to move on. If you think you can try again, I don’t recommend you continue reading this post :)

Right from the get a go, this might be a cheating situation. Either you cheated on someone or someone cheated on you. It’s cool, we don’t judge, shit spills when the drain is clogged. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic (or a relationship) affair, it could also be a work situation (much like drama office). Whatever it was, it’s irrelevant when compared to the universal truth of pile three: there was foul play in here.

Let us start slow and from the beginning. Fact: you don’t like to be alone. Consequence: you withstand a lot of shit from people as to not feel like you don’t belong. You might be a pushover with a lot of migraine issues. You don’t really put up a fight, especially when talking about this situation in specific.

You don’t like direct conflict. You avoid it, take the punches for the sake of peace, keeping your image clean. Some of you had/have a really bad relationship with your mother, or had someone belittle you a lot during your formative years. A family member might have drink a lot around you. A kitchen has a powerful meaning for some of you (this is very specific, but a tile floor and a room with yellow tones). Nonetheless, to stay in this situation you keep your mouth shut and take the beating. You’re very emotionally weak though, stop lying to yourself about it. Thinking really fuck up comebacks capable of destroying the strongest of enemies doesn’t mean much if you don’t actually use them (granted, you are watching out for yourself and that’s understandable). What’s hard to comprehend is why you put yourself in said situation to begin with.

You have a beggar mentality. Be it for love, money, or validation. You are willing to put up with a lot of crap if the reward is worth the trouble. You have grown dependent of this situation. You might work in an office job or wear blue as part of your uniform. You don’t have any loyalty whatsoever, some of you might be well-known snitches. You put value in people based on what they can offer to you.

A lot of people don’t like you, pile three. They are praying for your downfall in silence. For some, someone you trust is among them (please take this with a grain of salt. If you had no indication of a person plotting against you before, don’t force it now). For others, your friends are ready to give up on you if you don’t pull yourself together. No one really knows why you do what you do, but they don’t trust you. Someone finds you pitiful.

You are seeking something, but you are doing the whole treasure hunt gig wrong. Growing up no one really payed much attention to you, and now you search for it the only way you know; staying quiet or causing trouble. And you don’t understand why despite all your efforts you can’t seem to achieve what others do so easily. You have an inferiority complex, regardless if you come from money or not. Some of you might actually been raised on poverty or a really competitive environment. “Many mouths to feed, not enough hands to work.”

Despite it all, all you ever want is a good, simple life. But you refuse to let go of old mentalities. You want to be the little man and ride off the success of someone else. You don’t want to do anything at all. But lately you have been so fucking depressed and no one wants to be your friend.

But hey, you kept on reading, which means you are ready to give the move on thing a chance.

You want to improve, that’s more than some people can say. You don’t want to be a sentient puppet, you want to be a person with deepness and layers to them. You want to have a major life change, which most likely means you fucked up big time and want to improve. You hurt someone, or someone hurt you (granted, it might have been warranted). But you, quiet literally, want to expel the ugliness out of you, and frankly speaking some people are not having it. They want you to stay the bad person to elevated themselves. But there’s also people around you that are more than willing to help you out, which might confuse you because you won’t know who to trust. You’re ready to put the work, though.

Still, you think life will become boring. If there’s not a villain then there’s not a story to tell. No bad decisions to be made, no more late night drunken shenanigans. So you might be a bit unsteady, prone to giving in everyone once in a while, which might halt any progress you had made. You might have BIG time trust issues. “Leave before they leave you,” stuff going on. Truthfully, you will never move on if you don’t lose that.

HOW TO MOVE ON (FROM THE SITUATION).

To move on, you have to let go of the idea of a perfect life, a perfect you, in a perfect world. There’s no such thing as a life without issues. If you want something you have to put the work into it. Cheating your way into victory is getting a medal without value. Have you watched Wreck-it-Ralph? Yeah? Then you know what I mean. You don’t need to be the most powerful person in the room to be the most loved, the most respected.

Being the first to punch doesn’t make you a better person, m neither does not punching back. You have to stop looking a life thought black and white. You need to let go of this beggar mentality. “You are rich if you’re not poor and you’re poor if your not rich.” Shit don’t work like that bro. You don’t have to break a heart to prove that you have love and were loved. You don’t have to make people hurt you and grovel for your forgiveness just to see that they care. You have to stop seeing everyone as your enemy.

Life is all about how we interact with the universe. Life with life, not life against life. Don’t run from something just because you expect the worst. Nothing will ever be set on stone. Nothing will forever be good and nothing will forever be bad. It’s all about what teachings you decide to carry with you and how you apply them in your everyday. We are constantly learning and changing, for better or for worse.

You have to understand that people have fears just like you, that people can get hurt by your actions. Be more patience, don’t jump at the slightest movement. Don’t enter the first exit you see, let the road take you to your destination. And stop trying to hurt people for the sake of hurting, it’s not cool.

Don’t give value to people based on what they can give to you. You are missing out on so many experiences and learning opportunities by closing off from others. You are blinded by an artificial dream to see what the universe is trying to gift to you. (This is oddly specific, but please stop watching so much porn). It’s okay to ask for help bro, and maybe it’s about damn time you do. You might discover different perspectives about things you used to think yourself an expert on. And stop procrastinating so much, you got shit to do, masterpieces to create.

Don’t be so closed off to new experiences, and try new activities. You won’t belong anywhere if you keep pretending to be someone you aren’t. When you feel the most comfortable, you will find yourself surrounded by people who love you just the way you are. Breaking news, love is not supposed to make you feel like shit.

Also, stop being so hasty. Slow down, take your time and enjoy the ride. You will appreciate all that you have if you simply take a moment to enjoy it.

Stop running away, you will only tired yourself.

You wish to belong so desperately, to fulfill an idea, that you are willing to lose yourself to the situation. Fake it till you make make, make yourself miserable that is. In essence, you are afraid of being alone, to never be wanted for who you are, and you prefer to burn the forest at the first sound of a branch snapping than letting life find you.

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It's really late and I'm very tired, but I had the urge to post this reading as soon as possible. I'll fix any mistakes tomorrow as soon as time allows me to do so. As always, thank you for trusting me with your energies, stay safe, and the universe loves you all <3

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thebadgerclan · 2 years

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Lunch

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: When your husband complains of the Ministry’s food, you take matters into your own hands...

It wasn’t ever a life you’d envisioned yourself living, yet here you were. A housewife. You led a fulfilling life; an obscene amount of books to read, the grounds of the manor to explore, events to plan, as the lady of Malfoy Manor, and caring for your husband. Which wasn’t to say that in the future you might not grow restless and seek something outside the home to do, but for the time being, you were quite content.

Lucius worked in the Ministry every day, always arriving home promptly at 5 o’clock to spend the evenings with you. It was on one such evening that your husband absently commented on the food that the Ministry’s cafeteria served. “I don’t know how they haven’t been shut down,” he said over dinner. “Yaxley went home with food poisoning the other day, and most of the food’s downright inedible.”

“Lucius, I’d be more than happy to make something for you to take to work,” had been your reply, but your husband shook his head. “Don’t trouble yourself, dove. The elves are more than capable.” You’d grasped his hand across the table, drawing his gaze to you. “Luc, I want to. Just tell me what you’d like and I’ll make it.” That had presented a problem in itself: your husband had no real idea what sorts of things he’d like. “I just eat what the elves bring up,” he confessed, and so began your new task.

You procured and prepared a wide variety of foods for Lucius, ranging from salads to soups, even leftover roast one day. To your surprise, Lucius’ favorite meal was a simple ham sandwich with a light drizzle of mustard. He wasn’t opposed to other things you might make for him, but when you took his lunch bag to the kitchens when he returned home on the days his favorite sandwich went with him, there wasn’t a crumb left.

“So,” you said after the first week. “How do you rate my culinary skills, darling?” Lucius laughed, kissing you sweetly. “Ten out of ten, my dove. In fact, other people are asking whether you might make lunches for them.” You smiled, shaking your head. “I might have to start charging, in that case.” As the weeks went on, Lucius brough news of a new craze sweeping the Ministry: packed lunches. The poor cafeteria workers had never had so much free time on their hands.

#lucius malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #harry potter reader insert

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writers-hes · 1 year

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Bleeding Candy Hearts (s. harrington x reader)

SYNOPSIS: It’s Valentine’s day and Steve recollects the moments leading up a confession and a question he wanted to ask through candy hearts. REQUESTED: no WARNINGS: fluffy fluffy!!!! hurt/comfort (reader’s parents are also absent), mentions of the ‘mall fire’, domestic ending, friends to lovers, not proofread PAIRINGS: Steve Harrington x Reader WORD COUNT: 3.8k+ helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

A/N: Don’t forget to check out my Sleepover Event! Happy Valentine’s Day…or week!

“Dustin, Dustin, no!”

“What?” Dustin asked, munching on pastel colored candy hearts that he found on Steve Harrington’s kitchen counter. “I’m just eating candy,”

“That wasn’t for you, asshole!” Steve exclaimed, rushing to the scene of the crime. Crumbs of candy hearts littered the marble tops. “Did you eat everything?”

“No,” Dustin shrugged. Steve sighed in annoyance before counting the contents of the box. Eleven candy hearts left. How was that going to be enough? Steve counted, he needed at least twenty-five. Steve was kind of annoyed but seeing Dustin’s apologetic face eased him. Kind of.

“What is this about anyway?”

“I’m giving it to my Valentine!” Steve replied. “Ugh, dude! That was the last box,”

“Sorry, man. I swear, I didn’t mean it,” Dustin replied.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off. Fuck, what was he going to do now?

The truth was, today was a special day for Steve. Not because it was Valentine’s day soon but because he was going to finally ask you a question that he’s been dying to ask.

Steve’s been thinking about it for weeks now—how you light up the room wherever you are, how you’d laugh at his jokes, the slight touches…he’s been thinking about you, consuming his mind with everything and you probably didn’t even know about it.

It all started a few months back. You were the new girl of Hawkins. You had no friends yet and no anything. Your parents were barely home and you moved into the house right beside the Harringtons. Steve watched from his window as the movers placed boxes upon boxes inside your home. There was a polite smile every time they’d pass by you but that was it.

Steve really wanted to talk to you—he was friendly and he was your neighbor. Surely, it’d be nice to welcome you to the neighborhood. He was out running some errands for the house when he saw you in the supermarket. Your cart was filled with fresh ingredients—vegetables, fruits, eggs. There was pasta and some candies and other essentials that a functioning family might need—a stark contrast to what he had on hand (soda, beer, and other food filled with artificial flavors and preservatives).

You were both in the cereal aisle and Steve decided to introduce himself to you.

“Uh, hey,” Steve greeted, making you look up from the shelves.

“Hi,” you smiled. Steve knew he was fucked. “You’re my neighbor, right?”

“Yeah. Steve Harrington,” he said. You nodded, telling him your name. Lovely name, it suited you perfectly. “Running some errands too?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m preparing my meals for the whole week so I’d only have to microwave them,”

“They don’t go bad?”

“No, not really. I cook a big batch of food every Sunday and then portion them. It’s easier than having to cook everyday. Saves my time too,” you told him.

“Well, I only rely on…beer, soda, milk, cereal, and Hot Pockets,” Steve told you. “Never really learned how to cook.”

“Oh. I love cooking but it’s so tedious especially with everything going on,” you told him, taking a box of Reese’s Puffs from the aisle. “Anyway, I have to go, Steve. Still have to do the laundry and everything,”

“I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.”

Steve went home that day feeling more inspired than ever. After you parted ways, Steve bought ingredients that would make for a salad. Sure, he didn’t know what balsamic vinegar was but at least there was a ready made ranch dressing.

The next time Steve saw you was in a record store that Eddie worked in. He and Robin decided to drop by to visit Eddie and ask if he would be down for some burgers.

“Eddie! I swear to god, I didn’t know,” you laughed.

“You didn’t know that the PB and J sandwich with the label ‘Eddie’ was mine?” he asked teasingly. “Guess, I didn’t know that the ice cream with someone’s name on it is someone’s too,”

“Fine, fine you can have my ice cream because I ate your sandwich,” you said. Your eyes looked around to see Steve and another girl by the counter. “Hi, Steve!”

“Hey! This is Robin,” Steve said.

“Hi, Robin!” you greeted, telling her your name. Something clicks inside her brain and she looks at Steve.

“Hi! How do you know Eddie?” she asked.

At the mention of his name, Eddie arrives.

“Know me? She’s like my mom,” Eddie said. “She started working here last week, right?”

“Hm,” you think. “Yeah. Or like a week and a half?”

“And she’s already eating my PB&J!” Eddie complained, ruffling your hair. You laughed and Steve wanted to replay it over and over.

“So, what brings you guys here? Are you looking for something?” you asked.

“Oh, uh, I’m actually looking for a CD…” Steve lied. Eddie looks at him, puzzled. Why did Steve suddenly want a CD?

“What is it? I can probably help,” you replied. Steve racks his brain for a vinyl that his dad had. You listened as he said the name of the artist. He wanted the latest release.

“Okay,” you said. “Let me look at the inventory at the back and tell you,”

“Okay, thanks,” Steve replied and you smiled politely at him.

“Really? A CD?” Eddie asked. “What are you really here for?”

“We were going to ask if you wanted burgers since it’s almost the end of your shift,” Robin replied. “But Steve here has other plans,”

Eddie snickered at Robin’s teasing.

“Hey! I’m just trying to see. Just being neighborly,”

“Right,” Robin replied.

“I swear! She’s my neighbor,” Steve said, his hushed voice increasing in volume.

“Steve! I’m so sorry but it seems like we don’t have it here yet,” you suddenly appeared with an apologetic smile. “If you could fill up our reservation form, Eddie and I can put a stock aside for you,”

“No, that’s fine,” Steve replied. “I’ll come back some other time,”

“Oh, sure,”

“Steve and Robin asked if I can have burgers,” Eddie spoke. “You wanna go with us?”

“Oh, I’d love to but I just clocked in,” you replied. “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll cover the rest of your shift,”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes seemed to brighten at your statement and you smiled.

“Yeah! Go enjoy,” you said. “I’ll handle this,”

“Thank you!” Eddie said before hugging you quickly. “Let’s go!”

“Uh—bye!”

“Bye!”

Steve and his friends left and you continued to your chores.

“She was totally asking for your number,” Eddie said.

“Huh?”

“She wanted your number,” Eddie repeated. “We don’t have reservation forms. It’s just a thing I taught her,”

That night, you went home to a package of burgers and a made-up reservation form waiting on your front porch.

The next time Steve saw you was a few days later. There was a knock on his door and it was a slow Sunday morning. Steve walked groggily to the door, having slept in the living room. He was wearing a t-shirt with a dinosaur print, baggy sweatpants, and white socks. He opened it and revealed you, a beautiful dress and a pair of black mary janes.

“Good morning, Steve! I hope I didn’t wake you up,” you greeted. Steve felt self-conscious. In his head, this wasn’t his best look at all but you were only swooning because he looked so adorable.

“Oh—no! No, you didn't, I was just lazing around,” he stuttered. “Um, what brings you today?”

“Well, I was going to the store and remembered you. I was wondering if you wanted to come along? So we could shop together and have coffee afterwards?” you asked.

Now, Steve was usually a sucker for shy girls. Girls who wouldn’t even break glass but this? You? You were refreshing. You were outgoing in a way that doesn’t step on boundaries and God—Steve didn’t want to have any boundaries with you.

“Yeah, sure! Uh, would you mind waiting for me? I’ll just prepare and get dressed,” he replied. “You can come in!”

Sensing his discomfort you smiled.

“It’s okay! I’ll go back to the house and wait for you there. So you won’t feel rushed,” you assured. “Just ring the bell,”

“Okay,” Steve replied, visibly deflating. Truth was, his house was a mess. He only offered to be polite but he did make a mental note to clean for any impromptu visits in the future.

Steve knocked on your door thirty minutes later, dressed in a yellow sweater and some jeans.

“Sorry, I took so long,” he said. “My car or yours?”

“How did you learn to cook?” Steve asked, sitting across from you. You were having coffee and sandwiches now, groceries kept in the car.

“Well, my parents were gone a lot and mom had these cookbooks back home,” you recalled. “I had to learn how to fend for myself at around thirteen because dad thought I was too old to have a babysitter. It was hard at first. Dry fried chicken, overcooked pasta but I enjoyed it once I got the hang of it,”

“Why did you move here?” he asked.

“Well, after the mall fire, the market for housing plummeted here,” you told him. He remembered—his dad bought some houses to lease once the market rises again. “My father thought it’d be good to invest because Hawkins was starting to be more urbanized. He told me to live here to take care of the house and learn some independence while I’m on a break from college. You live alone too, right?”

“Yeah. Well, my dad’s in real estate and his office is far. I don’t even know where it is but he’s originally from Hawkins. He left me to take care of the house and haven’t seen him much ever since,” he said. “Been living alone for years,”

“Feels lonely sometimes,” you said.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But it’s comforting. Like, whenever my parents are here, I don’t feel comfortable at all,”

“I know that feeling! I guess, I should be grateful that my parents are at least supportive and nice but I see them once a month. It kind of gets awkward,” you said before taking a bite of your sandwich.

“You’re lucky. My dad just nags me all day,” Steve shared. “I know he probably wants what’s best for me and he probably thinks that it would be great if I took over his business or whatever but I’m just not there yet. I’m not sure what I want to do yet,”

“Oh, Steve,” you comforted, reaching out across the table to hold his hand. Steve felt at peace when you did that, and what’s worse? He didn’t know that he craved for it so badly. If he lets go, he’d melt completely right in front of you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to figure it out just yet. Tell you what, if you want, you can come up to me in college and I’ll show you around my campus,”

“Really?” Steve asked. He was excited—a campus tour from a girl that he really liked seemed like a sweet deal. If he got in, he’d have his dad off his back.

“Yeah! You can come probably before the semester starts or ends and we could do a road trip together,” you told him, your hand still lingering on his without you knowing. His fingers were pressed against the trace of your palm and it felt good.

“Promise?”

“I promise,”

A hot Saturday—you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve all decided to swim in the lake. You were going to pick Eddie up while Steve took Robin. Both your cars were filled with picnic items and a change of clothes. You all decided to spend the day there and grab dinner at some diner.

“Stop fixing your hair, it’s fine!” Robin complained. “Eyes on the road, Steven,”

“Fine, fine! You’re no fun, you know that?” he asked, fixing a stray piece of hair and tucking it behind his ear.

“I’m sure she’d think you’re still cute,” Robin comforted her friend, making Steve scrunch his nose.

“Cute? I’m not a puppy, you know,” Steve replied. “I need handsome! I’ll even take pretty,”

Steve and Robin arrived there early, setting the picnic blanket with beer, soda, and other snacks. You and Eddie were in charge of the pizza and other knick-knacks that you might crave for during the trip.

“Steve! Robin!” Eddie called, making his friends look up. Eddie’s arm was casually hanging around your shoulders, making Steve tense up. He was so sure that nothing was going on between the two of you but God, he wished he could do that too. Casually.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted, putting the pizza and the doughnuts on the picnic blanket. “I brought us some sunscreen and an extra picnic blanket. If Eddie could be so kind to go get it for me,”

“Fine, fine,” Eddie groaned. “Help me out here, Robin,”

“Hi,” Steve greeted once you were both alone.

“Hello, Steve,” you replied, sitting on the picnic blanket.

“Um, so, I was wondering…what kind of pizza did you get?” God damn. Really? Did he really ask you what type of pizza you got? He did and he couldn’t say anything else. Being with you in the supermaket, cafes, and Eddie’s place of work somehow did something to him and now, underneath the bright sky, you smiling to him, it made that feeling even bigger.

“Oh,” you chuckled. “Got us some pepperoni, cheese, and they released this new flavor with stuffed crust, so Eddie and I got that for you too,”

“Cool, cool. Love pizza,” Steve replied and you looked at him in amusement.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Stop it,” you told him. For some reason, he was being awkward and while that might’ve been fine, it was also starting to make you feel awkward. “Stop being awkward,”

“No, I’m sorry I just…don’t know what to say and I hate silence,” Steve groaned, putting his head on his hands.

“It’s okay!” you laughed. “Honestly,”

Steve peeks from the spaces of his fingers.

“Really?”

“Really,” you nodded. “Actually, I was hoping if you’d like to come with me? There’s a big supermarket outside of Hawkins and it’s like, everything you need is there. Even has its own bakery and uh, food,”

“Like a road trip?”

“Yeah. We can ask Robin and Eddie. I haven’t asked them yet,” you told him. “I don’t know, you don’t have to go. I just thought that it would be a fun twist for our regular Sundays,”

Regular Sundays. Steve liked that. Every Sunday was like a routine now. You’d know on his door to wake him up, go to the store together and run some errands, and then have breakfast or lunch wherever. He liked this routine and while he loved his friends, he wanted to keep you and your Sundays for himself a little longer.

“Okay, we’ll go,” Steve nods. “I’ll drive but you owe me a croissant,”

“Ugh, Eddie, stop!” you both hear Robin groan. “Can you believe him? He wants to bet against racing Harrington but Steve’s like a part of the swim team and Eddie’s…Eddie,”

“Come on! Just ten bucks,” Eddie begged. “Then I’ll leave,”

You laughed, it was usual for Eddie to make up stupid bets. He’d pout when he hands you the money and while you joke he might have a gambling problem, it was all fun and games. Eddie liked to live on adrenaline and for some reason, bets like beating Steve in a swim race was one of them.

Steve was thankful for his friends. They obviously knew that he was so into you. He knew that they were helping him—casually slipping that he was on the swim team, Robin helping out, Eddie taking care of your schedule in a way that Steve could ‘casually’ hang around.

They’ve been pestering him to ask you out because you were so clearly interested. He was never free on Sundays anymore and he hasn’t flirted with anyone else but Steve always told them that good things come to those who wait.

And he was proven right.

Steve showed up to your house, thirty minutes earlier in a dress shirt. Sure, it was probably too much for going to the supermarket but he wanted to put in the effort. You always showed up beautifully, a bright smile, a new lip gloss (Steve pays attention), and a warm greeting. It was time to return the favor.

Somehow, you both knew that this was different from all the times you’ve spent together. Sure, friends go to the store a lot. Friends eat dinner together. Friends talk to each other until the sun rises. Friends do all that together but this was a make or break point.

The day was spent as usual but it was you who broke the silence in his car, on the way back home.

“Steve,” you started. “I…like you,”

“I like you too,” Steve replied but you sighed.

“No, I–I actually have feelings for you and it’s been going on for a while now and I don’t know…maybe you’d want to go on a date together or something,”

Steve was smiling from ear to ear, a blush creeping on his cheeks. God, you turned him into such a sap. He’d never forgive himself for waiting too long to ask you out that you actually beat him to it but it was fine. Nothing would break him right now.

“I like you too and I’d like to go on a date,” he said. “I’ve been feeling it too and I don’t know. It just feels natural to me, you know? Everything about you and I is natural to me,”

“Yeah. I feel the same thing as you.”

After your first date, the kids started to call you their ‘mother.’ It was never said in front of you but after Steve naturally took the role of a big brother-father figure, they’ve always been on the hunt for a big sister-mother figure. You fit perfectly. Telling Dustin to use sunscreen in the pool, helping Max with her homework, Erica going through puberty, cheering on Lucas’ games, comforting Mike with his girlfriend problems. It felt so natural and naturally, the kids would plot something as to ‘leaving you with Steve’ or ‘Isn’t Steve just so handsome?’

It was one date after another. You never kissed on the first date but you just had to kiss Steve. He was so handsome, looking all pouty when you had to go back home. You, knocking on his door after your date and going straight to kissing him. Him, laughing because you’re so forward and so refreshing. He never felt as wanted before. Not even as King Steve, not even with Nancy.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve really wanted to ask you to be his but Dustin ruined it because he ate all the candy hearts. He had it planned elaborately. He’ll give you a box of candy hearts and you have to figure out what he was trying to say. Now, he couldn’t. Steve groaned in frustration, red staining his fingertips. Somehow, the liquid food coloring bled into the candy hearts. He could barely make out the letters on the candies.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Dustin offered. “I’m really sorry,”

Dustin felt bad. This was what he wanted—his hero and the new girl finally getting together. Nobody missed the looks that you two exchanged, the fleeting touches, and everything else. It was so obvious that you were too into each other. You were just waiting.

“It’s fine,” Steve replied. He had other tricks in the bag; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, chocolates, and all the Valentine she-bang. But the candy hearts were the most important part.

For Valentine’s, you two agreed to just hold it at home. Your home. You told him that it would be nice if the two of you could cook together and buy the supplies the day before. Steve agreed, of course. Anything you’d ask for, he’d give. He knocks on your door with his heart on his sleeve, roses and Valentine gifts in hand. You opened the door in your favorite outfit and Steve wanted to go back to the flower shop and buy every single flower for you.

“Hello, beautiful,” Steve greeted, a smile draping his lips. “I got these for you,”

“Thank you, handsome. Come in, come in,” you said, taking the flowers from him. Steve watched as you placed the bouquet in a vase, settling it on the dining table you assembled. You were lucky that your mother had collections of porcelain and fine china. “You look handsome,” you told him and he did. His brown hair falling on his face, his neat outfit—there was a glow within Steve and you found yourself staring.

“Stop staring…or take a picture,” he teased. “I have my polaroid with me,”

“Okay, let’s,” you said. That’s how you spent your Valentine's afternoon. Steve helped you chop the vegetables, stir the soup. He’d pause to take pictures of you. An arm around your waist, his lips kissing your cheek, a smile on your face. Snap! Another picture.

“I’ll take this one,” he said, before you could even ask for it. “Put it in my wallet,”

“What about mine?”

“You get all the pictures,” he said. “Just want this one,”

“Okay,” you replied. Garnishing the pasta with shreds of parmesan. Everything was set in place and Steve wanted to do this more than ever.

“Actually, before we start on our Valentine’s dinner, I wanted to give you one more thing,” he said, showing you a crumpled box of candy hearts. “Explains my red fingers,”

You took the box from him to reveal candy hearts.

“I didn’t…Dustin ate most of it and I had to make do with what I have,” he explained. The letters were barely there.

I U L L B M Y G W F ?

Steve watched nervously as you tried to figure out his message.

WILL U B MY GF?

Eleven bleeding candy hearts that spelled out the question you wanted from him the most. You wordlessly turned away from him to retrieve a small heart-shaped cake that you baked last night. Steve read the inscription as you gave it to him. He wanted to laugh, it was a cake version of a candy heart that read:

Be mine?

“You always upstage me,” he laughed, closing the distance between the two of you, his arms around your waist.

“Explains my blue fingers,” you said. “So, I’m your girlfriend now?”

“Only if I’m your boyfriend. I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too, Steve..”

“Mom! Dad got us Valentine’s gifts. Look!”

“What is it?” you asked. Steve always had the habit of spoiling the kids. He could never say no to them but then again, you could never do that to them either.

“He got us chocolates and told us to share this cake for us,” your daughter said, while your younger son nodded cluelessly, carefully placing the cake on your lap. A cake that looked like a candy heart with the inscription: I love you. :)

A/N: That’s it for Valentine’s week! Thank you for reading.

TAGLIST:

@rayodesol97 @moistmocca @munsonology @sadbitchfangirl @bebe0701 @tayhar811 @aol19 @eddiesprincess86 @undeadgirlsworld @rosemarythl @rosemary_thl @eddiethesexy @sister-cirice @weaslyslut01 @himynameisjeff @captainweirdo42

@alyisdead

(If you’re not tagged, please interact or send me a message / ask so I can see your profile. Thank you!!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #angst #fluff #fanfiction #fan fic #steve harrington #stranger things #hurt/comfort #friends to lovers

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minteaspoon · 1 year

Text

A Moment of Reprieve

actually happy lucemond hours:)

a/n: this was based off of song of achilles by madeline miller, go check the book out and give it a read - it’s absolutely worth it:)

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Under the Weirwood Tree in the gardens of the Red Keep, there sat two young boys. One of white hair and purple eyes, the other of dark brown locks and dark irises.

The eldest, Aemond, held a book in his right hand, reading in High Valyrian to the younger, Lucerys - all while his left hand caresses his nephew’s head of chocolate.

In the grasp of Lucerys, he toyed with a small and thin horse, listening adeptly to his senior.

He liked listening to his uncle Aemond reading - he had a nice voice. Luke’s smile widens when he sees a servant bringing lemon cakes as ordered by the uncle and nephew duo.

“Uncle Aem! Our lemon cakes are here!” He exclaims, readying to up himself from his laid down position on his uncle’s lap. The brunette feels his shoulders held down, and brought back to rest against the ground.

“Stay, Lucy, the servant will bring the treats over. You don’t have to run and tire your small body,” Aemond jokes, chuckling softly when Luke puffs his cheeks out at the playful quip.

When the servant brings the lemon cakes over, the duo thank them before dismissing them to their chores.

Munching on the sweets, Luke asks, “do you think Mama and Step-grandmother are fighting again?”

Aemond froze, and turns his gaze to his distracted nephew who’s eyes were on the book his uncle had lay down to eat the cakes.

“…Knowing my mother, and with what she’s told me of my half-sister - your mother, I would be surprised if they handled a meeting without even the barest of arguments,” he mumbles loud enough for his nephew to hear.

Lucerys stops mid-bite, before putting his lemon cake back on the tray, wiping remaining crumbs from his fingers while turning to his uncle.

“I guess you have a point…Uncle Aem, do you think we’ll stick together even if our mothers separate us?” This was asked gently and in a whisper, sounding afraid of rejection from the questioner’s source of admiration.

The eldest was silent, before he brings his left hand to pat the younger’s head before it shifts downwards to his cheek. Once there, his thumb makes comforting motions as the brunette further leans into its hold.

“Yes, whatever happens, Lulu, I’ll make sure we stick together, alright? Nothing will separate us, I swear this to the Old and New Gods,” Aemond smiles, as he picks the book back into his grasp.

The duo continue to eat their sweet treats in a comfortable silence, leaning into each other and relishing in the quiet moment of reprieve.

Under the Weirwood Tree, they always found peace together away from the tumultuous life within the Red Keep.

After another minute or so, Luke breaks the silence yet again with a question, this time, one that temporarily stuns Aemond.

“Can you name one hero who was happy?”

Aemond’s face scrunches in confusion, “whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, can you name one hero in our books and lessons who lived and died happily? All at once? Every day and every night, every hour and every minute. They were always happy, and never anything else.”

His uncle’s brows furrowed in thought, as Luke stares at the violet eyes with many thoughts of memories about their Sept’s lessons of past history.

“…I can’t say I have - I’m sorry, Luke.”

Luke shrugs and smiles, “Well, if you can’t name one, then there hasn’t been one both famous AND happy yet, huh?”

“I suppose you can say that.”

Sighing his disappointment loudly, Luke flips onto his back and onto his uncle’s lap yet again. His eyes were closed, and after a few deep breaths, he opens them with a bright smile.

“Alright then, I’ll tell you a secret!”

He scrambles upwards to his knees to the side of his uncle, who’s wide-eyed gaze keeps track of his always moving nephew.

“And what will that be?”

“I’ll be the first!”

Luke brings his soft hands to Aemond’s lightly calloused hands from training, and excitedly shoved their intertwined hands to their chests, leaning into his uncle’s face as his smile widens.

“I’ll be the first hero in history to always be happy! Swear it!”

Aemond’s wide eyes yet again furrows, “why me?”

“Because you’re the reason! Swear it!”

These words were loud yet quiet, as though this claim were so sacred that only Aemond, Luke, the Weirwood Tree and the Old and New Gods were the only ones worthy of hearing it.

And to the boys, it was.

Aemond was brought out of his thoughts by his nephew.

“Swear it,” whispered his beloved.

Hesitantly, he whispers back, much quieter than his nephew; “I swear it.”

Luke leans his forehead against Aemond’s, and both let out shaky breaths held in after the silence that followed their vows.

There, under the Weirwood Tree in the garden of the Red Keep, sat two lovestruck young boys, uncaring of the rest of the world, and relishing in a moment of reprieve from the hectic life of the court.

There they shared kisses and embraces.

There they shared sweet words and sweet treats.

There they comforted the other when troubles arose.

There they would sit and make up when they fight.

And there, a lone man - filled with a burning regret and a strong yearning of a past once forgotten and now remembered - kneels, as the rest of his world burns into nothing but ashes and sulfur, of fire and blood, of the raging ocean and thunderous storms in what once was a place of comfort, safety and love.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

a/n: ….Never said it was gonna end sweet:) Just that it was gonna be a happy moment for lucemond, never said I wasn’t gonna make it end with me tearing y’all’s hearts out:)

a/n ps: @sleeplessdreamer123 IM NOT SORRY, THIS IS REVENGE FOR ALL THOSE TIMES YOU MADE ME SAD WITH YOUR LUCEMOND CONTENT

#lucemond #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #bby luke and aemond #our smol bbys #we love them #now their adult counterparts on the other hand #WE TORTURE IN EVERY WAY #bittersweet #angst #house of the dragon #hotd #hbo hotd #soa #the song of achilles #song of achilles #name one hero who was happy scene #but lucemond

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elocinnicole · 6 months

Text

Cookie Crumbles

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI suggestive language

Summary: Daveed figures out who’s leaving crumbs in their bed

Requested: No, another Drabble that was on my mind. I've had this WIP since Emmy and Daveed’s AD House Tour, which is still my favorite house tour. Also, this is fitting given the recent news of Daveed and Emmy announcing they’re having a baby!!! Enjoy!

Word Count: 752

Daveed huffed as he wiped the cookie crumbs off the bed, he’s been meaning to talk to you about it. Daniel must be leaving crumbs behind after he’s in their room. There’s always seems to be a trail of crumbs on his side of the bed when he gets back home from work. The only ones home right now are you and Daniel, with you and Daveed having just moved from New York to LA, the two of you were still looking for a preschool for Daniel during that time he stayed home with you.

You shuffled into the bedroom, having just entered your ninth month of pregnancy; you were taking a break from working after just ending your run with Hadestown as Persephone three months ago. Now that you and Daveed made the move to LA you were looking to get into more screen acting roles.

“Who keeps leaving these crumbs?”

“Huh, crumbs?”

“There’s always crumbs on my side of the bed. I’m not mad it’s just every day.”

“It must be Daniel; he likes to sit on your side when you’re gone.”

You groaned as you climbed into the king-sized bed.

“Oh, my bad, babe.” Daveed grabbed your hand and helped you onto the bed.

“It’s fine,” You huffed out of breath.

“I’m so ready for this baby to come out. I’m so tired, you know I had to sit down on the steps midway. My feet are so swollen. I can’t fit any of my shoes.” You mumbled Daveed smirked as he moved to the end of the bed and started to massage your feet.

“I can get you new shoes.”

“That’s not the problem, with Daniel I barely gained any weight with this one I look like a—" You moaned aloud when Daveed massaged a pressure point on your foot.

“Feel good?”

“Mhmm,”

“Let me put one in my mouth.” Daveed joked, you giggled and tried pulling your feet away.

“Stop! We’re gonna wake up Daniel!” The two of you talked about your day. Daveed filled you in Season 3 of Blindspotting and the switch from STARZ to Apple TV. You talked about your meeting with Shonda Rhimes, there’s been talks of you joining Bridgerton for the next season. Daveed kept messaging your feet until he heard a soft snore. He tucked you into the bed and kissed your forehead before going to sleep himself.

Daveed heard chewing and assumed it was their new puppy Rocky, but he knew for sure that he put Rocky in his cage for the night. He sat up to inspect and accidentally leaned on to a bag of Toll House cookies on the bed.

“Babe!” You froze mid bite hoping that Daveed was talking in his sleep.

“Babe, I see you. You the one eating cookies in bed?”

“Hmm?”

“Hmm, you heard me. You lied on your own son.” You sighed as you sat up, the cookie still in your mouth.

“I can’t help it; your baby has me craving sweets. I’ve never had a sweet tooth before.”

“My baby?”

“Yes, your baby that you put in me.”

“Oh, the one you begged me to. ‘Leave it in Daveed! I want it! I want it!’” Daveed said jokingly mocking you.

“Be quiet!” You said slapping your husband on the chest. “I usually sit on your side because I miss you.”

“Aww!” Daveed teased pulling you in his arms.

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. Let me go.”

“No, it’s sweet.” Daveed landed a wet kiss on your forehead making you groan aloud.

“I’ll make sure to get rid of my evidence. Next time.”

“Hmm, can I at least get a cookie?”

“Hell no, these are mine.”

You sat in Daveed’s embrace, listening to his heartbeat. Sitting in a content silence.

“What if she’s still breech?” You asked softly, at your last appointment, the doctor was worried that your baby hasn’t rotated yet. Daveed sighed heavily and held you closer wanting nothing more than to ease your mind of that possibility.

“If she’s still breech, then we have our other plan. We’ll do the C-Section and have a healthy baby girl. If not then, we have our original birth plan and have a healthy baby girl. Either way, we’ll be delivering a healthy baby girl. Okay?”

“Okay.” Daveed kissed the top of your head you sighed contently, ready to fall asleep.

“Let me put just one toe in my mouth.”

“Daveed, shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb @slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh

#daveed diggs #elocinnicole #daveed diggs x black!reader #daveed diggs x reader #family is everything #black!reader #black reader #black fanfiction #daveed diggs imagine

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 1 year

Text

New World

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: none?

Word Count: this chapter happened so fast. All because @tarithenurse showed me a Itachi bathing in a hot spring. Also, thank you for Beta-ing

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The shishi-odoshi (bamboo water fountain) adds a mellifluous tone to the other empty house that has been modestly spruced up with furniture and tatami for the new owner and any guests he pleases to bring home.

Orange hues reflect over the pond which is the first to welcome anyone who enters the gate. Tadpoles have been daring enough to swim in the koi pond freely while the fish follow with great curiosity. Crows are perched on the rooftop, some resting, others keeping an eye on every direction as if it's their sole purpose to look out for any signs of danger.

The new owner of the house is standing in the centre of his new abode, his delicately beautiful tresses flowing with the gentle spring breeze languidly flowing through the rooms and corridors. His arms rest inside his kimono. His entire being is a rhythm of stillness, trying to hear the house and all that surrounded it.

He tries to hear the echoes of the past that this soil carries; tries to remember the fragrance of a warm meal long forgotten, the cackle of one little boy he would like to hear again. And again. He tries.

But everything is blank.

No noise can be drawn from his memory. No odour or stench. No faces seem to come up. A muted tone of something that he has long forgotten; washed away.

Eventually, the dirt under his shoes crunches as he makes his way to the front porch, sitting down to watch the last rays of the sun going down.

Cries of little kids playing in the street outside are new to him. Their voices are shrill, filled with unmediated confidence. The mothers are louder, calling for them to come home before it gets dark. The dogs are barking at the commotion, even more at the kids. But he seems to like it; this long-forgotten bouquet of noises.

The caw of one of the crows brings his attention to the gate.

"Do not tell okaasan, Nami. I'll be home quick."

The tender yet resolute voice has his attention. One leg hanging down the porch, the other supporting his resting arm, he slightly turns to watch the wall, following the sound of hurried footsteps that stop at his gate.

A grunt is heard by the wall: "You are going to get me in trouble, Y/N."

"No one is getting in trouble," that tender voice speaks again, "I just need to feed the fish and water the flowers. I will be done before the sun goes down. You do not have to wait for me. Go home and keep okaasan busy."

Nami seems to grunt again behind the wall, "I swear she is more your mother than mine. And she is going to eat me alive for letting you wander off alone in an abandoned Uchiha house."

But someone is already stepping inside the abandoned house, bringing along the scent of freshly bloomed sakura.

You wave Nami away and skip towards the koi pond, greeting the fish. "Oyasumi, koi-sama!" you chuckle before taking out a pouch hidden under your haori (jacket). "I brought you dinner so you do not eat the tadpoles just yet."

Dropping the crumbs into the pond to keep the koi away from the tadpoles, you take the leaf of a lily plant, scoop the little ones up and shift them to the end of the pond closed off for the fish with rocks.

"There you go," you sigh, getting up and going back to look at the flower buds standing in the pond.

"Looks like you are ready to bloom any moment," you whisper mostly to yourself, being careful while touching the buds.

Women can be heard outside, scolding their kids to go back to their homes. A few of them are cursing the prices of vegetables coming in from the Hacho village.

"By the way, did you hear, this house has been reconstructed for someone returning from the war?"

A few gasps run through the crowd as they pass by the walls.

"My, my -" you hear one of the women gasp as you get up - "who is that young man?"

It is clear from the voice that they are standing at the gate so instinct drives you to turn around and look towards the house. You see a figure sitting on the porch, their eyes locked with yours. The stare brings an anxious jump to your heart within three seconds, your body impulsively taking a step back, leading to you losing your footing.

It all happens within a flash.

A yelp comes out of your throat as your hands try to grab at anything to stop you from falling into the pond but finding only air. Something grabs you instead.

A pale hand grips your right hand, stopping you right at the edge. Painted nails adorn nimble fingers that are wrapping themselves around your palm and pulling you away from the pond, towards...

Your breath is lost.

The depth in those eyes is immeasurable as they look into yours. The lines on his face speak of many things - mostly exhaustion. The thin, pink lips are a line devoid of any emotion, being teased by the stray locks of his hair that do not yet find themselves being tied at the back.

You cannot take your eyes away from him. You are unable to.

But he does. For a slight moment, looking at something behind you as his other hand finds the small of your back and pushes away from the edge of the pond and closer to him.

Foreign voices bring you back to earth. Voices that are talking outside the walls.

You slowly remove yourself from his hold. His hands are surprisingly warm - warmer than yours.

"Gomen'nasai (sorry)," you exclaim with a bow, "I just came here to feed the fish. Sumimasen (excuse me)." You bow again before walking hurriedly out the gate.

He sees her touch the plants growing in the pond and stops when a cluster of voices grows closer to the gate. The only feature that stands out from where he watches her is the jade hairpin that she is wearing.

He does hear his name. But his eyes are invested in the woman turning to look in his direction. He has already calculated that she is losing her footing. And so, he makes himself useful.

That is when he sees those eyes. The kindest eyes he has ever seen. The yawning sun reflects its golden hues through an ocean of y/e/c, stuck on him. They are wondering about him with such transparency that he wants to laugh at the absence of any veils. And yet he just stares in awe.

Parted lips want to draw his attention to the lack of air they are observing but his attention is taken by a slight hiss coming from behind her.

He is already drawing her closer to him, looking behind her to find the source of that sound, only to find the flower buds suddenly opening up.

He feels her move away from him, questioning the usual void in his mind as it is suddenly filled with a few voices.

She apologises and excuses herself with a bow.

He does not utter a word. He is still trying to get used to those eyes.

She is no longer there. Yet he still blinks, trying to get those eyes off his mind.

He cannot. The blank space in his head has unexpectedly found something to wonder about; even when a cluster of flowers glowing with ember petals grows in his pond and a jade hairpin lies right by his feet.

"What took you so long?" Nami punches you in your arm and then proceeds to rub it while walking back home. She is forced to look at you when you don't answer.

"Nami..."

"Hm?"

"...I think I just met Itachi Uchiha."

#itachi uchiha #itachi x y/n #itachi x reader #uchiha itachi #itachi fluff #itachi fic #itachi fanfiction #uchiha itachi x reader #uchiha itachi fluff #Maladaptive Ninja Returns

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dujour13 · 7 months

Text

Owlcatober 2. Favorite food

the 4th and final part of The Prodigal Tiefling - also on AO3

(CW food & fluff)

---

It was a pretty sweet plan.

Siavash settled his back against the cool wall of the Citadel balcony and smiled to himself as he played, while a gap in the Worldwound vapors above the west guard tower twinkled with evening stars, winking back at him like they were in on it.

His fingers had found their music again since he’d recovered Woljif alive in the Worldwound. He’d only been half aware what a weight he’d been dragging since the tiefling disappeared, but now that it was lifted song rose out of him as easily as breath again.

Not that all the weight was lifted. The night of the gargoyles he’d lost a lot of people, the flames of hope he’d kindled as Knight-Commander extinguished far too soon, and by his own negligence. Every death was like a punch to the gut, but it was the mental image of the young tiefling’s body shattered against cold Worldwound rocks that ached the most.

They’d started to be friends. Or so he’d hoped.

Of course Woljif ran that night. How could anyone blame him? He ran because he was smart enough to catch the scent of shit on the wind, and to know this new Knight-Commander was in it over his head.

But also smart enough to stay alive out there. Siavash smiled again, shifting to a more cheerful chord.

Since they got back to Drezen the tiefling seemed uncharacteristically subdued, and Siavash hoped a little welcome-back gesture might lift his spirits and let him know he really was forgiven, at least as far as the Knight-Commander was concerned.

At the same time, he had to be careful it wouldn’t be mistaken for flirting, which he definitely wasn’t. Siavash vowed to stick to his self-imposed penance—which he’d already cheated on twice in the two years since Kristov, but that didn’t really count, because neither of those guys was anyone he’d ever really fall for—

Oh.

His fingers faltered on the strings.

Right. That was why he needed to keep this strictly friendly, and yet special; hence the plan.

* * *

“Wait. Are you telling me you lugged those all the way out here into the Worldwound for the last day and a half’s march?” Lann looked at Siavash like he’d sprouted a horn.

“Yeah,” Siavash grinned.

“If you’re complainin’ I’ll eat yours,” Woljif volunteered, snatching a cherry roll from the boxful in the chief’s arms and threatening to swipe another.

“Wouldn’t want the Knight-Commander’s efforts to go to waste.” Lann swatted his hand and helped himself.

“What’sh the occasion?” Seelah asked through a mouthful.

“Our merry band of Kenabres city defenders is back together at last,” Siavash beamed. “Setting out to defeat the forces of the Abyss side-by-side once again. I thought that was worth a little celebration.”

For a moment everyone gaped at him, standing there in the Worldwound wastes in his green striped trousers, purple tunic and aqua scarf, guitar strapped across his back, smiling broadly over a box full of slightly stale cherry rolls, luminous Elysian butterflies fluttering around his head.

“Party time!” yelled Aivu, bounding excitedly across the rocks. “Pass!”

“Ready?”

As she caught the lobbed pastry it exploded into crumbs and sticky cherry filling that she licked from her grinning dragon-lips as she trotted back.

“Very promising,” Daeran mused, nibbling at the cherry roll poised on a lace handkerchief thrown over his hand like a doily. “Am I to understand that if I run off in the middle of a dire battle and then come slinking back with my tail between my legs you’ll throw us another pastry party? Next time with mimosas, I might hope?”

Woljif’s mouth was too full for a retort.

Meanwhile the succubus, on whose request they were currently headed for Greengates, stood off alone keeping an eye on the perilous terrain that lay ahead. Siavash called her over.

“Arueshalae, have one.”

“I shouldn’t,” she said meekly, dark liquid eyes lowered.

“Don’t tell me you’re watching your carbs,” said Seelah. “Sister, you can afford a cherry roll.”

“I’ll eat hers,” Woljif volunteered through stuffed cheeks.

“No, I—I just don’t think it’s right. I wasn’t in Kenabres.”

“You were there in dreams. That counts.”

At Siavash’s apparent sincerity Daeran burst into a peal of mocking laughter. “In that case I shall catch up on my beauty sleep, perchance to dream of striking down a dozen demons. For the cause.” And he settled into a languorous pose with his pack as a pillow.

Seeing Lann’s look of despair Seelah elbowed him. “Don’t be such a sourpuss. It’s not the kind of Crusade I expected when I came here either, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Still, Arueshalae shook her head. “Someone like me doesn’t deserve—”

“Nonsense!” Siavash cut her off. “Arueshalae, if you’d like to join our Merry Band, with all the privileges and responsibilities that entails, you must partake of the sacred cherry roll.”

Bashfully she gave in, taking up the dripping red roll in both hands and, just as she had once done with still-beating human hearts, brought it reverently to her lips.

“Haha! You’re one of us now, like it or not!” Seelah slapped her on the shoulder, rousing a swirl of butterflies.

Later when the others had wandered off to their camp occupations, Siavash found himself alone by the fire with Woljif.

“Thanks, chief,” the tiefling said, patting his stomach with a satisfied grin. “My lucky day. Cherry rolls are my favorite.”

“I know. That’s why I chose them.”

“I—huh—?”

“You mentioned it once.”

“Guess I musta,” Woljif mumbled. His tail twisted.

“I like to take note of little things like that with people,” Siavash explained, just to make sure it was crystal clear he was not flirting.

“Ah, I get it. Part a’ the diplomattin’.”

“Sometimes. And sometimes just part of being a friend.”

Woljif’s tail froze in mid-twist. He began to fidget with the cuffs of his jacket. “You really are an original, chief, you know that?”

“I could say the same of you.” Siavash pinched himself mentally. Stop.

But Woljif chattered on unawares. “I mean, if it was anybody else I’d say you’d get eaten alive out there, tryina make friends with people like me, but I dunno, somehow you pull it off. In fact I’m startin’ to think that’s what landed you the job, and what’s keepin’ this crusade goin’. I don’t bet ol’ Galfrey ever hauled snacks halfway across the Worldwound for her chums. You know how to play the game your way, chief.”

Siavash chuckled. “Nothing gets past you.”

“Ha. Looks like not much gets past you either.” Woljif glanced up and there was a conspiratorial flash in his clever yellow eyes, bordering on affectionate. Suspecting he was being played, and playing along? Suddenly he flushed and pretended to interest himself in the blank horizon of the Worldwound in the opposite direction.

And while his eyes were averted, Siavash stole another look, admiring the way his curls framed his profile in the firelight, and already planning another trip to the Drezen bakery just to see those eyes light up again, and that clever, dimpled, slightly greedy but also sincere smile that made his heart glow warm as the southern Andoren sun.

Stop. Leave the poor guy alone. “I’m glad you liked them,” he said softly as he rose. He couldn’t help placing a hand on Woljif’s shoulder on the way. “And I’m glad you’re back with us.”

Woljif’s cheeks had gone glaringly ruddy. “Yeah, me too, trust me. I mean where else can a guy get cherry rolls out here except with you—guys. Sure as hells not with Baphomet cultists.”

“So you’ll stick around?”

It took a moment for him to answer, like he was working up his courage or struggling with something. Probably, Siavash reflected with regret, all too aware he was being reeled in, and Siavash could do nothing to express his sincerity without crossing the forbidden flirting line, so he just stood there wearing his most reassuring smile and hoping that would do. Let me give you more than snacks. Please trust me.

Woljif shrugged. “Sure.”

A pause.

Woljif sighed. “I mean yeah. I’ll stick around.” Sheepishly returning the smile, the glow of firelight in his eyes was softer than he probably would have liked. “I promise.”

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #woljif jefto #siavash x woljif #fanfic #my writing #owlcatober 2023 #pwotr pals

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em-writes-stuff · 10 months

Text

chains

day 11 of two weeks of whump @promptsforyourwhumpfic

hero, villain

warnings: being held hostage, cursing

764 words

a/n: do i know what this is? no, am i posting it anyway? yep!

---

Villain spits at Hero’s feet, “Let me go.”

She fights against the chains anchoring her to the wall and grunts when they don’t give. The manacles dig into her skin, rubbing the flesh raw. She stares at Hero, her eyes throwing daggers at him.

He smiles and shakes his head, and takes a step back, “Not yet.”

“Nobody’s coming for me, if that’s what you think. It’s just not happening. Supervillain doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

Hero stares at her, then at his watch, then back at her. “It’s only been a few hours. I wouldn’t give up hope yet.”

She scoffs and slumps against the wall, “Yeah, right.”

Hero stands there for a few seconds before nodding once and turning around, “I’ll be back with something for you to eat in a few hours. Any allergies?”

“Fuck you.”

The door slams and Villain slides down the wall, the chains jangling loudly every time she moves. She stares up and traces the shadows cast from the bars on the window. It was going to be a long wait.

The sunset was a soft purple, it painted the walls of the room Villain was in. In terms of sunsets, it took forever. Over half an hour later, the wall is still stained with a deep red.

A knock at the door and someone pushes it open, a head peeks past the door frame and Hero smiles, “I brought a sandwich. Ham and cheese.”

He tosses it to her and walks into the room the rest of the way, leaving the door open behind him. Villain cranes her neck to see past him, she catches view of a door that could be an exit.

She grabs for the sandwich and lifts the top piece of bread to inspect it.

There was a thin layer of mayonnaise spread onto both pieces of bread, and three pieces of ham on either side of a piece of cheddar cheese.

“I hope you don’t mind crusts,” Hero jokes.

She looks up from the sandwich and glares at him, “You’re holding me hostage, do you really think you can make jokes?”

He holds his hands up in mock defense and nods, “You’re right.” he slides down the wall across from her and sighs, “Just thought I’d try to lighten the mood a bit.”

“Not gonna happen.” she takes a bite into the sandwich and quickly finishes it, rubbing her hands together to get rid of the crumbs.

Hero’s shoulders raise and he turns away from her, “Those are loud.”

“What?” she stares at him, then shakes her wrist furiously, “The chain? Yeah, it’s like its made of fucking metal or something.”

Hero nods again and stands up, “I’m sure someone will get you by morning.”

“And if they don’t?”

He looks over his shoulder and sighs, then closes the door without an answer.

Before the sun comes up, Hero knocks on the door again and hands her a cup filled with cold coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. “I thought you’d be gone. I left the window unlocked.”

“What is this?” Villain snaps. She sets the cup down on the ground next to her hand and balances the bagel on top. “What the fuck is this?”

“Breakfast?”

“No. Not this. This-this. Leaving the window unlocked? Keeping me so close to the exit. What’s going on?” she narrows her eyes, “What’s your plan?”

“No plan. I’m just bored.” he admits. “I’m sorry you’re the one trapped here, but Supervillain hasn’t done anything in months and I was trained to do stuff. Not just sit around. I needed something to do.”

Villain almost laughs, “Let me get this straight: you kidnapped me because you’re bored?”

He nods.

“Do you know how fucking stupid that is?”

He nods again.

“Are you gonna let me go?”

He shakes his head.

“Jesus!” she shouts, “It’s like working with a toddler!” she shoots to her feet and pulls against the chains, “You’re not doing this for a good fucking reason! Let me go, you motherfucker.”

“Someone has to come for you,” He says, almost to himself. “Someone has to notice you’re missing soon.” he looks at her, “Right?”

“No!” She shouts. “Nobody’s fucking coming for me! I told you that eighteen hours ago!”

He shakes his head and walks up to her, gently holding her wrists in his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought someone would come for you.”

Gently, Hero unlocks the manacles and lets the chains clatter to the floor. Villain pushes past him and walks out of the door, slamming it behind her.

#twow #two weeks of whump #whump #whump fic #whumpee #whumper #villain whump #villain whumpee #hero whumper #forgotten #chains #when. nobodys comign for whumpee but whumper doesnt believe it #:(#em writes #em writes stuff #my writing

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demonbanisher · 2 years

Text

Some soft sad for Harry’s birthday 💫 TW: past emotional child abuse and neglect

The first year Harry moved in with Sirius and Remus felt surreal. Harry was focused on enjoying every minute of it because he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something else to happen that would drag his godfathers back out of his life.

But it hadn’t happened yet, and so on his birthday he found himself not at Privet Drive but still at Grimmauld Place with a tall cake slathered in icing being placed in front of him, adorning with glittering candles and magical font that was writing and unwriting Happy Birthday Harry!

And he remembered that first cake from Hagrid. How no matter how squashed it had been it had been absolutely perfect. No amount of spelling errors could replace the fact that it was his. Sure, there were egg shells in the batter and the icing was so sweet you could feel the granules of sugar gritting against your teeth, but it was the first time in a long time that anyone thought he was deserving of something sweet.

For years, Harry had watched birthdays from the other room. Salivated over fancy bakery cakes that he would only get to taste by trying to discreetly lick any crumbs off the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. He watched glittering presents be unwrapped over and over again and every moment was a silent reminder to him ‘you are not worthy of this.’

But then Hogwarts happened, and after years of loneliness he had friends. He had family. It all felt so overwhelming to find somewhere that he finally belonged. To finally have a home and parents who cared for him and loved him. In some ways, Voldemort made it easier. Voldemort was evil and cruel. Voldemort hated him. Voldemort wanted to destroy him. Voldemort believed he wasn’t worthy. Voldemort was familiar. The pain and fear of fighting for his life was comfortable. The joy and comfort of being loved was terrifying because what if one day they woke up and realized the Dursley’s had been right all along?

Harry’s hands shook as he tried to hold them steady in his lap. The wax was pooling off the candles and onto the cake. His godfathers looked at him expectantly.

“Are you going to blow out the candles love?” Sirius asked.

And Harry did, in five slow shaky breaths because he didn’t want to disappoint them.

“Did you make a wish?” Remus asked as he reached for the plates.

Harry nodded. Please don’t let this end.

Remus started to slice up the cake and passed the full plates around. Once Harry had his in front of him, he just stared at it. Unable to bring himself to eat.

“Something wrong love?” Sirius asked. “Remus wanted to do chocolate but I convinced him that you’d prefer cherry chip. Wrong choice? I can whip up a new one or we could run out to a bakery and get you something else?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the tears that were threatening to push their way past his eyelids. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s your birthday love,” Remus said softly. “Everyone deserves cake on their birthday.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth. His head aching from all the thoughts and feelings that were screaming for attention, that were screaming to be believed. “But cake is,” Harry stopped himself. His aunt’s voice ringing in his ears. Cake is for good boys.

“Harry?” Sirius said, pushing up from his chair now to kneel next to his grandson.

Harry’s breath came out in short rattling breaths, panic swirling around him, and he was hyperaware that he was ruining it. That he was making a mess of what was supposed to be a nice day between the three of them. He forced a trembling hand to scoop up a slice of cake but he was shaking so bad that it fell to the floor before he could get it to his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said as he fell to his knees to start cleaning the cake up off the floor, using the edge of his shirt to do so. “I’m so sorry. Cake is only for good boys. I shouldn’t have - I don’t get to - I’ll go to my room.”

“Harry,” Sirius said, as he moved to sit in front of him again, now with Remus at his side. “You don’t have to be good to deserve cake or a birthday or presents. You don’t have to be good to deserve anything. Our love doesn’t have to be earned.”

Harry stopped furiously cleaning the hardwood for a moment. “Y-you got me presents?”

“Of course dear, do you want to open them now?”

Harry’s eyes flashed back to the cake on the table and he watched them fill with fear again.

“You don’t have to choose,” Sirius told him. “We can finish cake first and then do presents if you want.”

Remus reached out slowly to rest his hand on Harry’s knee, watching carefully for any flinch or sign of discomfort. “You get both darling. You’ll always get both from now on.”

Harry reached up and wiped the traitorous tears off his face. Good boys weren’t supposed to cry either. Unless you were Dudley, then you could cry all you wanted.

“Do you want to have your cake now love?” Sirius asked.

Harry nodded and got up to go back to his seat. Sirius and Remus went slowly, trading off taking bites of their own slices so that Harry had all the time he needed. At first, he moved his fork slowly towards the plate before shovelling the bite into his mouth as if he was scared of getting caught. Eventually, he settled down into a calmer rhythm, methodically making his way through the slice of cake.

“Would you like another slice?” Sirius asked when he finished.

“No, that was perfect. Thank you,” Harry replied, but Sirius didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed to the cake and made a mental note to try again after presents.

Harry had a hard time with presents too. He couldn’t seem to stop crying no matter how hard he tried. He seemed in a constant war with himself between wanting to run and hide every gift away before someone could take it and assuring his godfathers that he didn’t need it and they could return it if they wanted to. Sirius and Remus never yelled, never got frustrated, they just simply told him over and over again that they’d bought them for him and the items only had to be returned if Harry wanted to pick out something else.

When asked what he wanted to do next, Harry managed to sheepishly ask if they could watch one of the new Muggle movies that Remus had gotten for him. Drained and emotionally exhausted, Harry was asleep fifteen minutes into the film. Sirius simply turned the volume down and pulled another blanket over him.

“I’m going to kill them,” he said quietly to Remus.

“Remember how many times I said that about your parents love?”

Sirius deflated.

“I know you want them to hurt as badly as Harry is hurting. I do too, but that anger gets us nowhere. It is right and valid and justified and we’re allowed to feel it, but Harry doesn’t need it. Maybe one day, he’ll transition to being pissed off and mad about the childhood that was stolen from him and he’ll need our anger to stand alongside his, but what he needs right now is your gentleness, Sirius. He needs our kindness and softness because he’s never had that before. He needs to believe he is worthy of good things.”

“I just want to make his hurt go away.”

“Did yours love?”

Sirius paused, feeling that familiar ache flare up inside of his chest. That dark space that still held onto his parents words and beliefs of him no matter how much light he poured into it. It was a stubborn knot of scar tissue that healed in the best way it could. “No,” Sirius said softly.

“But we can make it hurt less. We can try to make it so it isn’t the first thing that he thinks of at the beginning of the day and before he goes to bed and whenever someone tries to do something nice for him. We can try and have our voices in his head be louder than theirs.”

Sirius thought back to his teenage years, in particular to the time right after he’d run away from home. He thought about how hard he’d tried to prove himself to the Potters so they wouldn’t hate him, how often he’d flinched at the sound of broken plates and cups and started apologizing even if he wasn’t the one who dropped it, how often James, or Euphemia, or Fleamont, or Remus had to hold him and assure him that what happened to him wasn’t his fault. That they weren’t going to hurt him the way his parents had. How their voices still lived on in his head even now that so many of them had passed.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you Moons,” Sirius noted as he brushed a lock of hair out of Harry’s face and plucked his glasses off so he wouldn’t break them.

“You don’t have to love. I wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. None of us were. We were just being decent human beings.”

Sirius nodded, watching his godson and remembering what it felt like to be just like him. “It felt extraordinary to me.”

Love after so many years without it feels like fields of flowers finally opening in your chest and there are so many, and they are so unfamiliar, that you think you’re going to suffocate. Then someone shows you how to hold them and you learn for the first time that the whole world can be bouquet.

When it become evident that Harry wasn’t getting up anytime soon, Sirius picked him up in his arms to get him settled somewhere more comfortable. Remus trailing behind him as they moved up the stairs. Sirius laid him in bed and tucked him in gently. He turned to see Remus setting all of Harry’s gifts next to his nightstand so he would be sure in the morning that no one had taken them.

“Happy birthday Harry,” Sirius whispered. “We’re not going anywhere."

#harry birthday harry #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar raising harry #hurt/comfort #soft sad

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