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zepskies · 5 months

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Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers.

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors.

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning.

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court.

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out.

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot.

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going.

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media.

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one.

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism.

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy.

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks.

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent.

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it.

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek.

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him.

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it.

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat.

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you.

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you.

You’re not ready for that.

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you.

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him.

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen.

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks.

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking.

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand.

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in.

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt.

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his.

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping.

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek.

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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bluewasthecolor · 1 year

Text

A Roller Coaster Kind of Rush

Word Count: 1,897

Warnings: None!

A/N: Based off this request! Also, I had meant to get this out about three weeks ago, but life got in the way (as it tends to do). I'm going to try and write some ficlets soon as well. I can't say this is my favorite thing I've written, but as always, let me know if you like it! Also, let me know if you want a part two!

Now

She says everything I need to hear, and it's like

I couldn't ask for anything better

You hadn’t meant to keep your new relationship a secret. It’s just that you and Alexia only talk at training now and you’d really rather not break the news in front of the whole team. You’re waiting for the right time, or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself. As it turns out, the right time is a random Wednesday in April. You’re walking hand in hand when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar blonde head on the other side of the street. It’s enough to make you turn your head fully, just in time to make eye contact with the Spaniard. She looks away almost immediately but you know she’s seen you, know she’s clocked the woman holding your hand. Alexia’s eyes, the ones you know so well, the ones that are normally so full of passion, have gone cold and distant. She continues to walk down the street, not looking back or acknowledging you in the slightest. Your girlfriend either hasn’t noticed the woman on the other side of the street or simply decides not to comment on it because she squeezes your hand and points to the café the two of you are passing.

“I’m hungry, babe. Can we stop in here?” You smile and nod, but are unable to give her your full attention. Alexia has lodged herself at the forefront of your mind and refuses to leave.

Alexia thinks she’s moved on until she sees you from afar, hand in hand with someone new. She’s gone on a few dates, dates that went well, but nothing’s stuck yet. Still, though, it has felt good to ‘get back on the horse’ as Mapi loves to say. It hits her like a freight train when she sees you (with her): she misses you. You’re walking on the other side of the street with some redhead who, in Alexia’s opinion, looks like the opposite of your type. She’s short, maybe 5’2”, and she’s definitely not a football player. She’s laughing at something you’ve said, resting her head on your shoulder, and presses a kiss to your collarbone. It’s so different from how you and Alexia were, so much softer, so much simpler. Just as Alexia is thinking this, as the jealousy is bubbling up inside her, you look across the street and make eye contact. You freeze, pausing for a moment, but then continue on as if you never even saw her. This is what hurts Alexia most. The fact that after everything you’ve been through, after every burning hour you spent together, you could be so cold.

When she sees you at training the next day, Alexia marches straight up to you. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pursed, and you can tell what’s coming next. She has the same expression on her face as when she catches Mapi trying to prank her or when the training schedule gets changed without notice. If there’s one thing Alexia hates, it's surprises.

“You’ve got a new girl then?” The midfielder is standing in front of you now, hands on her hips.

“Yep. Didn’t know I had to issue a press release though.” “Is it…good? Do you like her?” You sense a bit of jealousy in Alexia’s voice and smirk before answering.

“It’s amazing. She’s perfect. She just…she gets me. We never fight, she’s always there when I need her. I hope you can find someone like that someday.”

Alexia is caught off guard by your comment but scrambles not to let it show through. She just nods and wanders off, leaving you more confused than ever. You hadn’t spoken that much about anything other than football in months–not since the break up. You’re both able to be civil on the pitch because it’s your job and you’re professionals (that and the fact that her injury has kept her out of training) but when it comes to anything other than work your relationship is nonexistent. It’s a stark contrast from the way your love felt and this is what both of you leave the conversation thinking about.

Then

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe that this is the hill you’re choosing to die on.” Alexia snapped bitterly, turning on her heel and stalking away from you. She headed straight for the door, slamming it on her way out but you were hot on her heels.

“You can’t believe me?!” You asked incredulously, following her out into the street. It was pitch black and raining torrentially but neither of you cared or even seemed to notice. “I can’t believe you! We don’t get many days off and all I’m asking for is one fucking day that you aren’t consumed by your injury and that you can just be here with me. Is that too much to ask for?”

“You know it’s not that simple, Y/N. You know that this injury is all I can think about and you know how much it hurts that I can’t play right now. I’m sorry that my being injured has been an inconvenience for you but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that. This is how it is.”

“Don’t do that, Ale. Don’t pretend like I don’t understand exactly what you’re going through. I’ve been through this before, you know that. If you would just trust me I could—”

“You could what, Y/N? When you tore your ACL you were just starting out and it wasn’t just before a major international tournament, so I’m sorry if I don’t want to take your advice. I think our situations are just a little bit different.”

“Wow. Alright. Suit yourself then.” Your voice had gone small and you turned around slowly to walk back inside. Alexia sighed and caught your wrist with her hand. “No, Ale. I don’t want your apology right now.”

Luckily for you, she hadn’t been planning on apologizing. Instead, she pulled you into her and pressed her lips to yours. The tears on both of your cheeks mixed with the rain that was still falling and made the kiss uncomfortably wet, but the passion was undeniable. You clutched at one another, conveying all the emotions you could in the kiss. Eventually, you had to break away. Alexia looked at you, a question in her eyes. She wanted to know if the two of you were okay. She knew the kiss didn’t solve anything, knew it didn’t erase the hurtful words you’d exchanged, but she also knew it meant that not all was lost. You didn’t give her a verbal response, but you slipped your hand into hers and led her inside, giving Alexia all the confirmation she needed.

Little did you know, this was the beginning of the end.

Now

She can't see the smile I'm faking

And my heart's not breaking

'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Your run-in with Alexia at training makes you question everything. For the next couple of weeks you feel like you’re going through the motions but not really experiencing your life. You go on dates with your new girlfriend, meet her parents and her friends, but none of it feels real. She doesn’t know you like Alexia did, can’t tell that your passiveness is out of character for you. Eventually, though, you begin to pull away. She notices that. She even tries to confront you about it once or twice, is so earnest that you begin to feel bad, but you can’t bring yourself to change your ways. This is when she breaks up with you. The fact that it doesn’t hurt–not even a little bit–tells you everything you need to know. You miss Alexia. You miss her more than you knew was possible, more than you’ve ever missed anyone or anything.

A few days after the break up, you’re sitting at a café with Ingrid when you make a decision. She’s been rambling on about Mapi and just how special she is, and something about a trip back to Norway, when you realize that you don’t want to go another minute without Alexia being yours. “Do you know–” You start, interrupting Ingrid mid-sentence. She looks at you surprised. For the past month or so your weekly coffee dates have been mostly Ingrid talking, so she welcomes the interruption. “Has Mapi mentioned anything about Alexia lately? About anything she’s said?” “Oh, Y/N.” Ingrid’s eyes are soft, a bit apologetic. “Mapi and I promised one another when you two broke up that we wouldn’t get involved. We love you both dearly and we don’t want to interfere.” “Really, Ingrid? That’s all you’re gonna say?” “I’m sorry. But if you want to know anything you should talk to Alexia, not me.” The Norwegian taps your hand. You nod to yourself, and go back to your reminiscing as Ingrid launches back into her story about her girlfriend.

The Next Day

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you

You pause outside Alexia’s door, willing yourself to knock. There are a number of factors that could go wrong here, you know this very well, but you’re willing to take that risk. Even if Alexia doesn’t want you back, even if she’s moved on, you need to know. Before you can muster up the courage, however, the door swings open. Alexia is clearly on her way out and she looks at you in surprise as she steps out the door.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?” “Are you–where are you going?” “I was just about to run some errands. I can wait if you need me to though. Is something wrong?” “No, no, nothing’s wrong but, um, if you could wait that would be good. I need to talk to you.” The Spaniard gestures wordlessly towards her flat and you follow her inside. It hasn’t changed since the last time you were there, since the night of the breakup. You wander to the couch and make yourself comfortable, while Alexia perches herself on the chair across from her. Her arms are folded and she looks at you expectantly.

“You said you needed to talk to me, so go ahead.”

“Right, right, sorry. So I don’t know if Mapi told you this but I got dumped.” At this, Alexia’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. Apparently Mapi was also taking the whole not getting involved thing seriously. “And here’s the thing, Ale. The breakup didn’t hurt at all. Like, not even a little bit. If anything it was a relief. That’s not how it’s supposed to feel, I know that because when we broke up…when we broke up I fell apart. I can’t do this without you, I don’t know how. You're everything to me. I've never felt anything close to what I felt–what I feel for you. And I know last time we fucked up and I know things need to be different if we try this again, but I need to tell you this now. I’m still in love with you. I want to try again, if you’ll have me.”

Alexia doesn’t say anything for a moment, but when you look up she’s crying.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #requests!!

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cosmicjoke · 4 months

Text

Hurt

The kid’s got lice.

Well, Kenny guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. Comin’ from that fuckin’ shit-ass, rat infested hellhole Kuchel’d given herself over to, ‘course the kid had lice. Probably had a whole buncha’ other shit wrong with him too. No doubt.

For one, the little bastard hadn’t said more than two words to Kenny in the whole time they’d been together. Quietest, unfriendliest kid Kenny’d ever met, and that was sayin’ somethin’, round here in the Underground.

He looks practically dead, sittin’ over there in the corner, gnawing on a piece of stale bread.

He ain’t wearin’ more than a ragged, threadbare gown that Kenny’s guessin’ was the boy’s only real piece of clothing. He’d ransacked the room in the brothel before takin’ the kid and leaving, lookin’ for somethin’ else he might be able to wear, but there wasn’t nothin’. Only some larger gowns, similarly worn thin, which he reckoned had belonged to his sister. And since she was dead, wasn’t no point in takin’ those.

The kid’s got nothin’ on underneath his gown. No kinda’ undergarments or nothin’. He’d made the kid go out ahead of him when they’d left that room, and the hem of the gown had ridden up, exposing the boy’s backside. Kenny’d seen what looked like bedsores, angry red welts, inflamed and painful lookin’ over wrinkled and filth ridden butt cheeks, and he’d wondered just how long the kid’s been sittin’ there, starin’ at his mother’s corpse. Had to have been a fuckin’ week, at least, for that kinda’ shit to happen. It was a damned pitiful sight, is what it was.

Just like it was now, lookin’ over at the boy, sittin’ there in the corner, chewin’ his bread and barely alive.

The collar of his gown sits stretched and too big on him, slippin’ off one shoulder entirely, dippin’ past his collarbone and revealing a milk white chest, bruised and mottled in spots. The kids ribs poke grotesquely through the skin, pronounced enough that Kenny feels a little sick just lookin’ at it, same as he feels lookin’ at the kids sunken face, eyes too big and set back deep and horrible, like a damned skull with nothin’ but skin stretched too tight over it, lips cracked dry and bleeding fresh each time the boy takes a bite of his food.

He’d fuckin’ told Kuchel, he’d told her, down here wasn’t no kinda’ place to try and raise a child. Tried to tell her there wasn’t no way she’d be able to provide for the two of ‘em. And now look. She was dead, and the kid wasn’t doin’ much better. He didn’t have no shoes or socks either. His feet and hands are filthy, black with grim and soot and dirt and who the fuck knows what else, toes and fingers all cut up. He keeps reachin’ up, scratchin’ at his tangled mop of jet black hair.

Just like Kuchel’s, Kenny thinks.

Thinks, if the kid got some meat on him, he’d look awfully like his mother.

He tries not to think too hard on that, somethin’ ugly and violent shiftin’ in his chest when he does.

Kuchel wouldn’t appreciate it, Kenny don’t think, if he let the rage get him around her son. That’d be low, he guesses, even for him, beatin’ on a boy who looked one stiff breeze away from collapsin’ dead.

“Oi, brat!” Kenny snaps, and he don’t miss the way the kid flinches hard back before he freezes, his eyes goin’ impossibly wider for a moment as he looks up, starin’ scared shitless at him. Kenny sneers. Wasn’t like he’d hit the kid yet or nothin’, but here he was, actin’ like he was expectin’ it. Wouldn’t surprise him, if he were to find out some of Kuchel’s John’s took to beatin’ him. That’s how those types were. Lookin’ to hurt someone who couldn’t fight back. Made ‘em feel big and strong, hurtin’ someone who couldn’t do nothin’ about it. “Slow down there, would ya? You’re gonna’ make yourself sick if you eat too fast. I’m guessin’ you already feel stuffed, huh?”

The kid… Levi… he’d told Kenny his name was Levi, just stares at him, not movin’. Kenny can see his skeletal fingers round the bread, trembling and weak.

“Can’t you say nothin’? I know you can talk. You talked before.”

Still nothin’, and Kenny sighs.

“Well, shit, I hope you ain’t simple. I’m gonna’ have to take ya’ out back and drown ya’ if you are.”

That gets a reaction. Somehow the petrified look on the kid’s face only grows more so, and then those cracked lips of his start wobblin’, and the bread slips, sad and pathetic, from his grasp, fallin’ against the ground.

“… S-sorry. I’m sorry.” He rasps, and jeez, Kenny almost wishes he hadn’t said nothin’, his voice so dry and weak and broken, it sounds like it should belong to an old man, not a seven year old boy, or whatever. It’s fuckin’ unnerving, is what it is.

Though, if Kenny didn’t know when it was his sister got herself pregnant, he woulda’ thought Levi was 3, maybe four years old at the most. He was so fuckin’ small.

He shakes his head, nudging the brim of his hat up higher.

“Welp, seems like you’ve had enough for now. Let’s go.”

Kenny pushes himself to his feet, and the kid shrinks back from him as he comes round the table and toward him.

Kenny rolls his eyes, grabbin’ hold ‘a the boy’s wrist and yankin’ him up to his feet.

“Quit actin’ so jumpy, brat. I ain’t gonna hit ya ‘till you give me a good enough reason to.”

He can feel the boy stumblin’ after him as he pulls him along. It’s his problem, though, if he can’t keep up. Kenny ain’t gonna’ slow down for him, with those short ass legs ‘a his.

Kenny can feel the eyes of ‘a the tavern’s other customers on ‘em as they leave, but none of ‘em say shit, too concerned with their own skin. That suits Kenny just fine. Stinkin’ cowards though, the lot of ‘em. For all they knew, Kenny was gonna’ do somethin’ awful to the kid, but none of ‘em cared enough to even try and find out.

Well, Kenny wasn’t gonna’ do nothin’ awful, though he couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t hurt the kid in some way. He knew himself too well for that.

“Are you gonna’ drown me now?” He hears that low, cracking rasp somewhere below him.

Kenny stops, glancin’ down.

Levi’s standin’ there, lookin’ up at him with those too big eyes in that wasted, skeletal face. Kid barely comes up to his fuckin’ knee. He looks at Kenny, stricken and resigned, and Kenny lets go of his wrist.

“No, I ain’t gonna’ drown ya! Don’t ya know when you’re bein’ fucked with?”

Levi just keeps starin’ up at him, and Kenny sneers, disgusted.

“Maybe you really are simple.” He mutters low, turnin’ away. “Well, come on. Ya can’t keep up, it ain’t my problem.”

He starts walkin’, and a moment later, he hears the kid’s bare feet slappin’ against the pavement as he tries to catch up.

Maybe this’d been a bad idea, Kenny thinks as he makes his way to the latest shithole he’d found to occupy. Keepin’ some kid around, even if it was his sister’s, was gonna’ be nothin’ but a pain in his ass. ‘Specially one as ratty and fucked up at this boy was.

Maybe he really should just drown the brat.

Ah… but he couldn’t do that. Just thinkin’ about it had Kenny feelin’ sick inside. Guts all twisted up when he imagined the poor bastard’s little face, scared outta’ his mind, cryin’ and pleadin’ not to die.

Fuck…

Kenny couldn’t do it to some poor kid.

He glances back, and sees the boy still struggling after him, his face bent toward the ground. He keeps stumbling, like his legs just can’t keep pace with what he want’s ‘em to do.

Kenny’s not surprised when the kid finally trips and goes crashin’ to his hands and knees.

He half expects the brat to start wailin’, the way he’s seen the little shits up on the surface start up when they hit the ground, screamin’ bloody murder for their mommy’s.

But Levi don’t make any kinda’ sound.

He sits there for a second, not movin’, before struggling back to his feet, and startin’ forward again.

Kenny can see his knees scrapped raw and bloody. Knows the boy’s palms are no doubt the same. It must hurt.

He frowns, shakin’ his head. ‘Least he wasn’t a whiner.

“You ever hold a knife, boy?” He asks as the kid nearly reaches him.

Levi stops, blinking up at him. As usual, he doesn’t answer.

“Tch. Here.”

Kenny pulls the blade he keeps in his hip holster, flippin’ it round and catchin’ it by its tip.

Levi’s eyes watch the motion, almost mesmerized, and Kenny smirks as he holds it out to him, handle-first.

The boy only stands there, starin’, like he don’t know what he’s supposed to do.

Kenny rolls his eyes.

“Take it, you dumb shit. I wanna’ see how you handle it.”

The kid’s hand shakes as he finally reaches out, bony fingers wrappin’ round the knife’s handle.

It looks absurdly oversized in the boy’s grasp, palm failing to come all the way round the circumference, the blade nearly big as his whole head. He stares at it like he don’t know what it is, holdin’ it up, his arm trembling with the weight.

“Well?” Kenny presses, a lick of annoyance uncurling in his chest.

Levi keeps lookin’ at the knife, liftin’ it higher, an almost fascinated look in his flat eyes.

But it’s plain as day the kid’s got no fuckin’ idea what to do with it, and finally Kenny snatches it back, Levi’s eyes goin’ wide at the suddenness of it, stumbling back, his backside hittin’ the dirt.

Kenny watches his face screw up in pain, those sores on his ass no doubt.

He huffs, turnin’ away and beginning back down the street.

He don’t know why he thought the kid would know how to handle a blade. He was too young, and Kuchel never did show the strength of the Ackerman bloodline. Skipped right over her like a stone over water. It only made sense, it would skip over her son too. Lookin’ at him, Kenny don’t know if the kid’ll even make it. If he’ll even survive past another year, another two. He’s weak and frail and pathetic. Smaller than he should be. By far smaller. He doubts he’ll ever get that strength.

It’s too bad, Kenny guesses.

Well… he could still try to learn the kid. If he ever found the strength, well then, maybe he’d survive. No skin off Kenny’s back, either way, he gathers.

The boy follows dutifully behind, somehow keepin’ sight of Kenny despite his refusal to slow, and pretty soon they’ve made it to the worn down shake Kenny’d found empty a few weeks back, deciding to take as his own.

“Alright, in ya go.” Kenny ushers the brat through the door.

He dumps his hat and coat on a worn out table he’d scrounged up someplace, before he goes about lighting the lanterns he’s got set up, washing the room in a low light.

The kid stands there in the middle of it, lookin’ lost and wide eyed as he gazes about. His tiny hands fidget nervously in the hem of his gown, unaware or unconcerned how he’s pulled it up past his hips. Kenny gets an eyeful of the boy’s penis and bloated out stomach. Malnurioushed. ‘Course he is.

Kenny shakes his head.

“Wait here. Don’t move from that spot.” He tells him, before headin’ back out. He’s got a big, wooden bucket hangin’ on a hook outside the front door, and he grabs it up before trudging off to a well about a quarter mile down the street. He fills the bucket with water and takes it back.

The kid ain’t moved, only sat down on his bottom in the same place Kenny’d left him, knees pulled up against his chest and arms round his legs. Just like how Kenny’d found him back in that brothel.

Kenny don’t say nothin’, just carries the bucket over and sets it on the ground.

The boy’s so small, he’ll fit in it, easy.

“Alright, get that fuckin’ rag off. Yer takin’ a bath.”

Levi looks up at him, bemused expression across his ugly little face, like he don’t understand what the hell Kenny’s just said.

“You’re god damned filthy.” Kenny snaps. “Go on, take that rag you got on off and get in the water.”

Kenny don’t know what the fuck it is he’s said, but suddenly the kid’s face breaks all apart, his lip trembling, eyes goin’ all wet and shit… shit… he’s cryin’all of a sudden.

“What? What the hell is it?!”

“I tried t-to keep clean. M-Mama… Mama told me it was… it was good. I tried, I cleaned every day. Every day. I tried, I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

The kid’s blubberin’ all over the place, a spew of words from his mouth that Kenny can’t make no damned sense of. All he knows is the kid’s freakin’ the fuck out, for some reason, and he’s got to get him to stop.

“Alright, alright, calm the hell down. Come on.” He tries, but the kid just keeps cryin’ and moanin’, somethin’ about Kuchel and keepin’ their room clean and Kenny’s about had it.

“HEY!” He screams, and the kid gasps, harsh and ragged, collapsing onto the floor and coverin’ his head with his arms like he’s sure Kenny’s gonna’ hit him. Well, he’d been about to, if he’s bein’ honest with himself. If the kid’d kept up that mewling, he was gonna’. But he’s gone quiet as a mouse now, sittin’ there with his face pressed to the dusty floorboards, shakin’ all over.

Kenny stares at him for a long moment, tryin’ to figure out what to do.

Damn, he ain’t used to this kinda’ shit. Normally anyone blubberin’ and carrying on like that in front of him just got a bullet to the brain, and that was that. But he couldn’t very well just off the kid. Not after he’d gone to all this trouble.

He flicks at his nose, tryin’ to think.

“Now you listen here, boy. None ‘a that sissy shit around here. You start cryin’ and hollerin’ like that again, all you’ll get for your trouble is a slap in the mouth. Ya hear?”

Levi nods frantically from where he’s still splayed on the floor.

Yeah, the kid’s taken plenty ‘a beatings, Kenny thinks.

He sighs, reachin’ down and haulin’ the boy to his feet. He don’t weigh shit.

“Come on already, get undressed and get in the bucket.”

The kid listens this time, and Kenny watches, a kind of gnawing pit formin’ in his gut as Levi strips, pullin’ the gown up over his head and revealin’ the most pitiful little body in the world.

He’s bruised all over, varying shades ranging from deep blacks and blues to mottled yellows and greens, washing over skin pale as milk. He’s sickeningly, painfully thin, arms and legs like sticks, shoulders pathetically narrow and bony. Every one of his ribs presses visible and awful against his skin, his chest a sunken, tragic nothing, little nipples hardly darker than the rest of him. His stomach stick out, round with bloating.

Kenny knows what starvation looks like.

The kid’s starvin’ to death. Another week alone in that room, and Kenny’s got no doubt he’d have been dead.

The kid looks up at him then, holdin’ the scrap ‘a cloth he’d been usin’ to cover himself in trembling fingers, wide, scared eyes uncertain.

Kenny rolls his eyes again.

“In the water, kid.”

He watches as the boy hesitates, head swiveling back and forth a moment, like he’s lookin’ for somethin’. And then he takes the rag in his hand and starts foldin’ it up, all neat like, before shufflin’ over to the table where Kenny’d dropped his coat and hat. The kid has to stand up on the tips of his toes to reach the surface, where he places his gown, before turnin’ and hobblin’ back over to the bucket.

His back’s just as bruised and hideous as the rest of him, shoulder blades juttin’ out like the peaks of mountains, every ridge of his spine a large, visible bump. He really ain’t more than skin and bones. And those bed sores Kenny’d spotted before, he’s gonna’ need to do somethin’ about those. Red, angry welts. A few of ‘em were seepin’ out puss too. Fuckin’ disgusting.

Kenny stares at him, watchin’ as he climbs in. Water sloshes over the edges as he lowers himself down.

The water comes up just beneath his chest, and he stares down at it like some kinda’ sad, kicked dog.

Kenny huffs, steppin’ forward. No use standin’ around, he guesses.

He reaches down, pullin’ a smaller blade from his boot, and sees the kid’s face lift.

For a moment, the dull, listless expression wipes away, and his eyes go wide with fear.

He recoils as Kenny takes another step closer, sloshin’ more water onto the floor, and Kenny pauses.

“What’s all that about?” He snaps, rollin’ his eyes. “I ain’t gonna’ do nothin’. That rats nest ya got on your head needs cuttin’, is all. You got lice, kid.”

That seems to get the boy to relax some, though he still watches Kenny with wary, mistrustful eyes as he closes the rest of the distance and kneels down.

“Now just hold still while I cut yer hair. Alright? You squirm around too much, and I might slip and slit yer throat.”

There’s those wide, frightened eyes again, and Kenny laughs to himself at how still the kid goes as he takes a big clump of gnarled and matted hair in a fist. Black as midnight, he thinks, just like Kuchel’s.

He shouldn’t think ‘a her now, though, Kenny reckons. Not ‘less he wants to get real mad. And Kenny knows himself. Knows when he gets mad like that, he’ll take it out on whoever’s most convenient. Right now, that’d be the kid, and Kenny ain’t too particularly wantin’ to lay his hands on the boy. Not when he’s already more skittish than a scared rabbit. Kenny hits him now, he figures, the kid’ll roll right up and never come out.

It’s hard, though, when he looks at Levi’s face, and sees Kuchel’s lookin’ right back. Even starved and wasted as the boy is, he looks just like her. Even his eyes. Those same, thin eyes, a blue so soft, they look more gray.

Shit…

A soft whimper pulls him outta’ his thoughts, and when he comes back to the present, he sees the kid tremblin’ in his grip, a sad, pitiful keen slippin’ past his dry, chapped lips.

“Whats’a matter?” Kenny grumbles. “Didn’t I tell ya to hold still?”

Levi don’t answer, his whole body shakin’ like a leaf, and Kenny realizes suddenly how hard he’s grippin’ the boy’s hair.

Well, fuck…

He loosens his hold.

“Hey, sorry ‘bout that. I got lost in my thoughts a minute. Ya know how it is, huh? I didn’t mean to hold ya so hard. Now quit that whimperin’. What are ya, a dog?”

Levi shakes his head, his face turnin’ away.

Jeez, but he’s a timid little bastard, Kenny thinks, frownin’. That kinda’ shit wouldn’t do. Not down here. Kid’d get eaten alive, if he kept on bein’ so wiltin’ like that.

“Now just hold still.” Kenny tells him again, and begins slicin’ through clumps of thick hair.

It takes a while, but Kenny eventually manages to get it trimmed down ‘till there’s nothin’ but a short fuzz coverin’ the kid’s noggin’. He even manages to stop tremblin’ so bad about halfway through, and Kenny thinks he almost feels proud ‘a the little sucker.

He rinses him off with just straight water after that, (ain’t got no soap), before pullin’ him from the makeshift tub.

“Feels better, huh?” He asks as he dries the kid off, rubbin’ him down with some old rags he had lyin’ around.

Levi nods, not sayin’ nothin’ otherwise.

Once Kenny’s through rubbin’ his head dry, the boy keeps liftin’ his hands and runnin’ his fingers through what’s left of his hair, seemin’ fascinated by the way it feels.

He looks even uglier with like this, Kenny thinks. Somehow even more skeletal.

“I ain’t got no clothes that’ll fit you ‘round here, so you’re just gonna’ have to keep yerself wrapped in this here blanket for now. Alright?”

Kenny hands him some worn out old thing he’d found stuffed in a drawer, ridden through with moth holes. He thinks it might’ve been a possession from his childhood with Kuchel. From before they were run off their land, their house engulfed in flames at their backs, gun shots peltin’ down into the earth around ‘em, loud, whizzing cracks in their ears.

He shakes his head of the memories, shakin’ the blanket when he realizes the boy still ain’t taken it.

Tiny hands finally reach back, fingers foldin’ into the offered material, and Kenny watches the kid struggle with its weight as he wraps it clumsily round his pitiful little body.

He regards the kid a moment longer.

“Alright, well, I gotta’ go out and get us some supplies. So you just stay here and I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go runnin’ off nowhere while I’m gone. Not ‘less you wanna’ get yourself killed or picked off by some freaked out pervert. Ya hear?”

Levi nods, clutchin’ the blanket around him like his life depends on it, squattin’ there on the floor.

“If ya gotta’ take a piss or shit, there’s a bucket out through the back door there where ya can do your business. Don’t you go messin’ on the floor in here, or I’ll beat you upside your head. Got it?”

Another nod.

“Y-yes Sir.” He actually talks, voice nothin’ but a cracked whisper.

Kenny frowns.

“Don’t go callin’ me that. Kenny’s just fine.”

Again, the boy nods, and Kenny huffs.

“Alright, well… I’ll be seein’ ya.”

He turns to go.

“… Th… thank you.” He hears behind him, that weak, rasping voice.

He stops, lookin’ back over his shoulder, and sees Levi lookin’ up at him. His eyes too big for his face, overbright.

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, boy. I ain’t gonna’ be soft on ya, if that’s what yer thinkin’.”

The kid’s head shakes no, and he falls back onto his bottom, curlin’ away.

Kenny sniffs, flickin’ at his nose.

“Good. Stay put and I’ll be back.”

He strides from the hovel he’s been shakin’ out in, slammin’ the door shut behind him, back out onto the streets.

Somethin’ ugly twists in his guts, then. An awful, sinking mire in his brain. The boy’s face in his eyes, wasted and tragic.

He thinks he wants to put his hands round the pathetic animal’s neck. Squeeze and squeeze and squeeze ‘till those sad eyes ‘a his pop right outta’ his skull.

Thinks what a rotten bastard he is, and somethin’ pained lances in his heart, a hideous weight.

The boy’s hurt seared into his mind.

#attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #Levi Ackerman #Kenny Ackerman #fanfiction #fanfic

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the-mighty-jellybean · 6 months

Text

The Hound of Hell's Kitchen

Series Summary: "We are only as blind as we want to be." Maya Angelou

Y/N Y/L/N was not prepared to be hindered by how the world viewed her position in society, not even the law was going to define, who she was as a person. Strong, brave and true of heart. The very qualities that make her so attractive to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Pairings: Matt Murdock x Reader

Series Warning: Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst and a little childhood trauma, just to really spice some things up. Strong Language

(18+ Only)

Chapter Five: Family Ties

Chapter Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Claire came back later in the evening, dropping off a measly, singular trash bag of what was left of Y/N's belongings that had indeed been thrown out onto the street.

Y/N looked through it finding, only a few shirts, and trousers, clearly anything of value had either been taken by Mr. Fitzgerald for the overdue rent, or by a passerby on the street.

"Sorry, Y/L/N." Claire squeezed Y/N's shoulder, comfortingly, as Y/N rested her head on the back of the chair, looking to the ceiling as she tries not to cry.

"It's okay, thanks for bringing me this at least." Y/N gives her a sad, yet genuine smile.

Claire bends down to examine Y/N's bandages, before wishing the two of them goodnight, and leaving with a still grumpy looking Luke.

"Why does he not like me?" Y/N pouts, brows furrowing as Luke slams the door a little hard, on his and Claire's way out.

"I don't think its you," Matt shakes his head, finishing another spring roll, "I think he's just a little annoyed that Claire didn't tell anyone you existed."

"That's not her fault, I asked her to keep me a secret, from everyone." Y/N shrugged, “I’m a rare breed, I’ve got no choice but to keep my existence a secret.”

“I understand, we all do,” Matt assured, “your secret will be safe with us.”

Y/N nods slowly, continuing to finish her plate of food, struggling to her feet again, she hobbles towards the kitchen sink.

Matt's eyes widen, and he jumps to his feet to catch up with her, "How many times do I have to tell you; Sit. Down."

Matt's chest rumbles, and it makes Y/N freeze, she doesn't even feel the sensation of the plate slipping out of her hand, but she does here the crash and the smash, as the stained white china, shatters across the stone floor.

The tears spring quickly, and Y/N crumples to her knees as she tries to clear away the broken porcelain.

"I'm sorry-sorry, I'm so sorry." Y/N rambles, she can barely see where she is putting her hands, as the salty tears cloud her vision.

"Stop, stop, it's okay, sweetheart, stop." Matt takes Y/N's shaking hands into his, she fights him for a moment trying to clear up her mess, "Stop."

The command in Matt's tone makes Y/N stop once again, she doesn't look up from the floor and the massive mess she had caused.

"This was my fault, I shouldn't have used that tone, it wasn't necessary." Matt utters, his voice is low and soothing, his scent is strongly of regret and empathy.

Y/N sniffles, using her shoulder to wipe her cheek as her hands were still occupied by Matt's. Matt slowly takes the shattered pieces out of Y/N's hands, gathering up what he can, and throwing it into the trash. Y/N stays frozen to the spot, on her knees, eyes fixed, tears still trickling down her face.

Matt bites his lip for a bit before gathering up all the plates and cutlery and place them next to the sink. He turns the tap on, filling the sink, with water and washing detergent.

Matt then heads back to Y/N and helps her to her feet, "you wanna help me wash up?"

Y/N doesn't really get a chance to answer, before Matt shuffles her to the sink, he lifts her lightly onto his feet, boxing her in with his arms, so she's steady on her feet. He reaches into the sink, Y/N following his hands, she starts to wash up along with the Alpha.

Towards the end of washing up, Y/N felt herself feel a little better, the washing up, relieving some of her earlier anxieties. The tears are almost dry by the time Y/N places the last plate on the drying rack.

"I think we should get you to bed." Matt again is speaking, but he's not asking a question, he's telling Y/N that she's going to bed. However, Y/N didn't mind Matt telling her what to do, she happily let him take her towards his bedroom, and sitting her on the bed.

Y/N frowned and pouted when he turned his back and headed towards the living room.

"Where are you going?" Matt stopped walking glancing over his shoulder, frowning himself when he saw Y/N's unhappy face.

"Going to my cosy couch." Matt jested, gesturing to the sofa, Y/N and himself had just used as a dining room.

"Why?"

"Because you're in my bed."

'Well, then I'll sleep on the couch-ah." Y/N falls back onto the bed, regretting her decision to stand immediately.

"I think not." Matt smirked, heading towards the sofa again.

"I don't want to sleep alone." Y/N finally blurts, making Matt fix to the spot, before slowly spinning to face Y/N again, "Please, don't make me sleep alone."

"If you're sure, sweetheart?' Matt is tentative with his words, but he is already moving back towards Y/N.

"Please."

Matt nods, "Lay down, honey."

Y/N manages to swing her legs onto the bed, whilst tracking Matt as he walks around the other side of the bed, getting under the covers. Shuffling onto her side, Y/N pulls her legs up to her chest as best she can, twitching her lips, as she admires Matt.

He turns the lamp off next to him, turning to face Y/N, letting out a long breath; "usually people close their eyes now."

Y/N tries to bite back the smile, clearing her throat to hide her laugh.

"Sorry." Y/N mumbles, closing her eyes, but peaking one of them open, noticing the way Matt's lips twitch, "How do you even know?"

Matt chuckles loudly, "I can hear your eyelids click every time you blink.

"Okay, ew gross, forget I asked."

---------

"Pwease don't o." Faolan begged, standing in Y/N's way, as she tries to hastily pack her bag.

"I've got no choice, Fe." nudging him to the side softly, he brings his blanket up to his face, rubbing it harshly on his cheek, in hopes to self-soothe.

"ake me wif wu." the little wolf tries the alternative, his big round eyes, glassy with tears, as he watched his big sister pack her small life away.

"I can't take you with me, Faolan . I'm going to have to figure out how I'm going to survive myself, let alone take a 4 year old with me." Y/N shakes her head, she was breaking her own heart with her words, so Gods know how this little man was feeling.

"Pwease." Faolan's voice broke, as he let the tears roll, he tried to wipe some of them with the rag in his small fist, but they were coming too quick for him to catch all of them.

"I'm sorry, Fe," Y/N held him in her arms, squeezing him tight, she stroked his damp cheek with her calloused thumb, taking in every little detail.

She never wanted to forget this little face.

"What if I'm un Omegga?" Felan hiccuped, Y/N stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head.

"That won't happen, Faolan. I promise."

"Ut, what if it does." Y/N could see the panic in the whites of his eyes, the little boy had seen everything that night, he saw an entire pack, turn on a singular member in the space of an hour. His family, becoming torn apart in a singular second.

"I will come for you," Y/N utters determined, "I will come for you, I swear."

-------

Y/N shot awake with a light gasp and a shriek, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, the sheets beneath her felt wet, and clung to her body, cold.

Matt felt Y/N shift beside him, and the sleep shattering shriek, and soon he too was wide awake, scrambling to get near Y/N.

"Shh, shhh, you're okay, sweetheart." Matt tries to cradle Y/N to his chest, but she fights him, still in some sleepy distress. "Shh, shh."

"Get away." Y/N tries to struggle, not fully aware of her surroundings, "Get off me."

"It's me, honey, it's me." Matt manages to cup the back of Y/N's neck, placing a small amount of pressure on Y/N's scruff. It makes Y/N go a little rigid, but it gives Matt enough time to push her into his neck, letting her take in his comforting scent.

"That's it, deep breaths," Matt coaches, "Good girl."

Matt's hand slips from Y/N scruff, running down her back, rubbing in soft circles, "That's it, good girl, nice and calm."

Y/N manages to get her breathing back under control, taking in Matt's scent glands with each shaking breath. She clutches at his arm desperate to keep him close, and Matt does nothing but hold her a little tighter, she knew he was there, and that's all she needed.

“Thank you.” Y/N rasps, pressing her forehead into Matt’s neck, she can feel Matt’s chest rumbling gently, the vibrations an Alpha Method to soothe. Y/N had never experienced an Alpha’s comfort rumble, she’d only been on the receiving end of a bark or aggression rumble.

This was nice. To experience comfort from an Alpha, for an Omega, it was like all her Christmas’ had come at once. She’d never felt more secure than in this quiet moment right now.

“It’s okay.” Matt reassured, keeping his hold on Y/N tight and firm, “you wanna talk about what you were dreaming about?”

“Not right now.” Y/N shook her head.

She was about to turn away, to lay back into her side of the bed, happily wrapped up in Matt’s arms, when her ears flickered.

“What’s wrong?” Matt felt Y/N go rigid in his arms, he tries to hold her tighter, but she’s pushing him away, as she struggles to the end of the bed. “What is it?”

Y/N tilts her head from side to side, trying to narrow in on the peculiar yet so familiar sound she can hear outside.

“Do your windows open?” Y/N was already moving towards them whilst she was asking the question. Matt is quick to jump from the bed, wrapping his arm around Y/N waist helping her to the window.

“Yeah hang on.” Matt safely lays Y/N’s hands on the window sill making sure she is secure before he starts to push the windows open. The cool city air makes Y/N shiver slightly, but she grins and bears it as she pushes her face out the window.

Moving her ear closer to the city, they twitch as she tries to hone in on the noise.

Finally she hears it, the sound spiking in her sensitive eardrum.

“What the…” Y/N breathes out in surprise, “there’s no way.”

“What?” Matt asks, concern radiating off his scent fiercely.

“Can’t you hear that?” Y/N is practically hanging out the window as she strains to listen to the noise, Matt has hold of her hips, stopping her from toppling out the penthouse apartment.

“Hear what?”

“Listen, listen hard, hold your breath if you need to.” Y/N instructs, she feels Matt’s chest against her back, she feels it still, as he does as Y/N says holding his breath, he leans into the city air trying to understand what Y/N was hearing.

It takes a second but soon Matt can hear it too.

The noise is faint against the bustle of the city, but Matt can’t deny that it’s there.

“What is that?” Matt asks Y/N quietly, not wanting to startle the Omega who was focused so intently.

“It’s a howl.”

“A howl? Like a wolf howl?” Matt can hear the noise clearer, now that he knew vaguely what he was listening too. It was a high pitch cry, it bounced off building to building before landing in his eardrum.

“That’s…not…possible.” Y/N whispers to herself, her eyes wide, shaking her head from side to side. She places her hands firmly on the window ledge, before Matt realises what Y/N is doing she had slipped out from his grasp, vaulting herself out of the window.

“Y/N!” Matt shouts after her, rushing to the edge.

Y/N isn’t listening to him, she’s already scaling her way down the building side, ignoring the burning pain in her side. Her bandages felt invisible, as she clambered her way in the direction of the howling.

Y/N barely notices the sound of Matt calling and following after her, until he lands next to her on the sidewalk outside his apartment.

“What are you doing?” Matt pants, reaching for Y/N wrist, but he’s not able to catch it, as she takes off running, barefoot down the street.

Chasing after her, he too forgets he is shoeless, but he’s unbothered, desperate to keep up with the distressed Omega.

Y/N's chest burns, as she gasps for breath, but she doesn't stop, spurred on by the howling, which grows louder and louder.

Taking a sharp turn into an industrial estate, her feet slap against the wet concrete, as she slows her pace down, head darting from corner to corner, as she tries to access the area she's found herself in.

Jumping slightly, when Matt places his hand on her shoulder, when he finally catches up with her.

"You can't do that, Y/N." Matt pants, Y/N shrugs his hand off, his scent was mixing with the ones in the area, and it was clouding her senses.

"It's stopped." Y/N's panic is spiking strongly in her scent, "The howling has stopped."

Matt listens too, holding his breath again, so he doesn't distract himself from tracking the noise. Y/N was right the howling had stopped, but there was still unfamiliar sound.

"Sounds like...nails?" Matt questions himself, but Y/N appears to know what he is saying.

"I don't understand...I thought I was the only one in New York." Y/N utters in disbelief, taking slow steps towards the tapping sound.

The noise leads her to an abandoned warehouse, the doors have been torn from their hinges. Y/N gently runs her fingers over the huge gashes, carved in the steel doors.

"What can do something like this?" Matt asks, his hands to examining the gaping wounds in the doors.

"Something like me." Y/N's voice trails off, Matt walks so he's shoulder to shoulder with Y/N, he can sense the change of direction in the air, that flutters over his face.

Furrowing his brow, he sniffs the air, the smell of wet dog and saliva tickles his nose. Concentrating harder, his mind is soon able to build a profile in his head, of what he was now face to face with.

"Y/N? Do you know what this is?" Matt speaks quietly, not wanting to frighten what sits in front of the Alpha and the Omega.

"It's not what, Matt." Y/N scolds, a smile dances across her lisp, "I know who this is."

"Who is it?"

"Hello, baby brother." Y/N speaks strongly, not a trace of worry or anxiety lay in her scent, mainly the smell of concern, yet happiness sprinkled in between her words.

"Baby brother?" Matt tilts his head confused.

"Matt," Y/N gestures her arms in front of her, "Meet Faolan."

The grey wolf jostled its fur to Y/N's words, but it didn't appear to soften its twisted up muzzle, bearing its pearl white teeth, drool rolling off the corners, of it's mouth.

"Faolan?' Y/N spoke softly, tilting her head from side to side, "Faolan it's me, it's okay."

The wolf lowers it's head closer to the ground, Y/N noticed that it's eyes lay on Matt, the wolf's back zig zagged, as it's hackles stood on end.

Stepping in front of Matt, Y/N pushed him gently behind her, making sure to fully block him from the wolf's view.

"It's okay, Faolan, he's a friend." The wolf didn't back down at Y/N's words, thinking on her feet quickly, Y/N remembers a move she'd seen performed by her brothers' when they wanted something from their father. A little like a puppy begging.

Y/N holds her hands out in front of her, her palms facing the floor; locking eyes with Faolan, she begins to slowly sink to her knees. The ground is wet beneath her as her knee lands on the gravel ground. She blinks slowly, her eyes changing from their usual colour to a glowing yellow.

Letting out a shallow whine, Faolan's features soften from the hard glare, to a lighter looks, his teeth are hidden by the skin of his muzzle, which has also flattened out.

The wolf pants a few times before slowly his face begins to change. It begins as a small twitch before morphing into a ripple, which takes over his face. Soon the ripple spreads to small waves across his whole body, his size beginning to reduce.

Eventually the fur turned to skin, the muzzle to a mouth, the paws to hands and feet, nothing was left of the wolf that stood before them, instead a young boy, who darted behind a stack of crates, nothing but a flash of flesh disappearing from view.

It wasn't long, and then the boy was back, this time with a pair of scabby jeans on, a tattered grey t-shirt, pulling on a dirty red hoodie.

"Wow, you've grown." Y/N huffed, standing from her knees, keeping her arms outstretched this time to take her frail looking brother into her arms.

Faolan wrapped her arms around her waist. Y/N didn't care for the pain, which stabbed her in the side, when Faolan squeezed her tight, she was just glad to have this boy in her arms once again.

"Why are you here, Fe?' Y/N asked softly into his hair.

"You said you would come back for me." Faolan voice is small, and weak as he looked, "Why didn't you come back?'

Y/N draws Faolan away from her, but keeps her hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently.

"I did Faolan," Y/N admits, "I went back to the den, a few years ago, but you weren't there, I figured you'd moved on for hunting purposes."

"Why didn't you look for us?" Faolan shrugs Y/N's hands off his shoulders, his brows furrowed in a concoction of confusion and anger.

"I tried, but I lost your scent about 30 miles away from the den, it just went cold." Y/N explained, scenting as strongly as she could, of sincerity.

"I needed you." Faolan whispers, his voice growing shaky, his scent changes strongly to sadness, and heartache. "It's been 11 years."

Y/N places her hand on his cheek, stroking softly with her thumb.

"I'm here now, Fe." Y/N steps forward to embrace her brother in another tight hug, before pulling away once again, "But why are you here now?"

Y/N felt Faolan's body go stiff beneath her, chewing his lip, his scent immediately changing to anxious and fear.

"He came for us Y/N." Faolan managed to choke out.

"Who came for you, who's he?" Y/N's brow furrows scent changing quickly to confusion.

"The hunter, he came for us, Father offered him me because..."

Faolan trialed off but Y/N already knew what he was going to say.

"Because you're an Omega too."

#marvel fanfiction #reader insert #a/b/o dynamics #avengers a/b/o #omega!reader #a/b/o lifestyle #matt murdock x reader #alpha!mattmurdock #daredevil

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berrytimefields · 2 years

Text

good hair days

part one

word count: 1,248

note: this is my first ever fic on tumblr! let me know what you think <3 i really didn’t want to split this into two parts but i really wanted to get this out to you guys! part two is coming later this week! always open to requests! (multifandom friendly)

katsuki bakugou x sweet! fem! reader

summary: days are hard and stressing and the least of his worries are his looks. but i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try and fix himself up a little bit. but why is she so nice to him? this has never happened before. what the hell, i just needed a trim.

warnings: none! some mentions of insecurities and some cursing. probably misspellings too. just cute fluff and sweetness towards an emotionally constipated man 🥂 may be slightly ooc but yolo!

the pink bell jingles lightly as the front door is pushed open, quite roughly as the loud intrusion jars some of the clients sitting inside. a tussled blond tramples through almost taking down a poor lady that stood close in proximity to the new arrival.

“hey sweetpea! do you have an appointment?” the man freezes in his attempt to take off the jacket haphazardly thrown around his shoulders.

“what the hell did you say to me?” the bouncy girl kept her smile from ear to ear as she turned and approached him, current client sitting patiently under the light pink dryer.

the place itself would be his number one red flag if the woman in front of him didn’t already give him an alarming vibe just from her presence alone. her over the top loving personality and the sparkling pink room around him would seem like the heroes worst nightmare, oh that’s right, it is.

he knew coming here wasn’t worth the torture, the idea of two hours spent here surrounded by glitter clouds and rainbows made him want to gag where he stood. yet he couldn’t compel himself to move. still stuck frozen in time as you seemed to get even closer than you had been before.

‘i dont think this shitty woman has any sense of personal space,’

“honey, are you ok? would you like to sit down for a minute?” her voice had the ability to pull him straight out of his trance and get him fixated back on his current state of being. he took another look around, noticing the pointed stares of many other ladies that were disturbed by his flamboyant entrance. he cleared his throat and tried to save his ass from seeming like too much of a jerk too soon.

“i need my hair fixed. now.”

yea still a jerk.

“oh, ok. well it’s your lucky day i seem to have a spot open! usually i’m pretty packed but i think i can make an exception for you sweetie.”

now what the hell does that mean, he pondered your words for a moment. he wasn’t exactly nice and friendly so why were you not apprehensive of his current behavior. better yet, why did you seem to treat him as though you two have close romantic relations. he searches his mind for a few moments to try and remember if a woman, as beautiful as you, had ever spoken that way directly to him. in any sense that wasn’t ironic. he scratched deep beneath the surface and couldn’t find diddly squat.

“ok.”

ok? really. a woman has called you three pet names in the first two minutes of knowing her and you can’t even finish one thought out loud?

“what would you like done today sir?”

now he didn’t like that as much. call him something cute again.

“don’t call me that.”

maybe the wrong approach.

“sorry sweetpea i never caught your name?” he tried to think what kind of reason you could have to possibly need to know his name when you could just refer to him as sweet things for as long as you live.

wait what.

sweet things? him? never.

he’d never been referred to as anything sweet, let alone anything complimentary. he’d barely even got a ‘babe’ before and that usually came from his friends if he has to really be truthful.

“names bakugou. need a trim gets in my eyes,” he couldn’t stand the constant poking of his bangs while he tried to fight crime, as embarrassing as it is for him to admit.

“okay well why don’t you come sit over here, and i’ll get you started up on that cut okay hun?” he felt his heart flutter again and felt to urge to rip it out with his bare hands. he mumbled back a small noise of agreement and followed you to the chair sitting on the other side of the salon. you waited for him to sit down before stepping behind him and running your fingers through his hair. he immediately felt a tenseness in his shoulders. ‘is getting a haircut always this nerve racking?’, well no because you were never the one rubbing your soft fingers through his scalp.

“you have such beautiful hair, i could run my finger through it all day. i guess that wouldn’t be too professional though. would you like me to give you a wash?”

he thinks he might drop dead on the spot if you keep making these propositions. want to run your fingers through his hair for the rest of his days? be his guest. wash his hair and touch him even more? please be his guest.

“yea, please,” oh god he said please. it’s time to get out of here.

“ok babe, let’s get you over to this chair then and get you started on that rinse okay?” you smiled at him through the mirror and started to walk away to start the lukewarm water. he’d never admit to anyone how fast he rose from the previous chair and made his way to you.

as you leaned him back and brought his hair into the sink he forced his eyes up so as to not catch your gaze. you hummed softly as you began to saturate his hair, at the sound of your relaxing voice he let his eyes flutter close as you began the soft strokes through his golden locks. this continues as you washed his hair in such a manner he didn’t know existed. don’t begin to ask him what it was you did to his hair because he hasn’t the slightest idea. after he hears the steady stream of warm water shut off he also hears you begin to step away from your place near his head. at this sound, he can’t help but open his eyes and follow your movements as you grabs a soft pastel towel from a nearby shelf. if you hadn’t turned back to face him he swears his eyes would’ve rolled to the back of his head.

of course, they’re gonna put that thing on his head.

“alrighty, darling let’s get you back over there so i can start taming your mane!” your soft laugh drifted throughout the room as you guided him back to the chair he first resided in.

once he rested back in the pink leather seat you wrapped your favorite rose-colored cape around his neck and he struggled to understand how everything could be such an obnoxious color.

“what’s with this pink shit.”

“it’s my favorite color, makes me happy! don’t you have a favorite color hun?” the smile you gave him was genuine as you started to blow dry his freshly cleaned hair.

“mmm, like orange i guess,” he mumbled and he couldn’t even be sure the woman he spoke to could hear him but he saw you nod your head in agreement wholeheartedly as if you had heard you won the lottery.

“hold on one sec okay? i’ll be right back to start your trim,” he didn’t understand why you seemed frantic all of a sudden but he hummed his agreement as you wandered off to the back of her shop.

bakugou looked up into the mirror and, for the first time that day, realized how his face felt hot and seemed to glow with a pink tint. now, that’s not gonna fly.

in his peripheral vision, he notices you return from where you disappeared to with what seems to be another cape in your hands.

but this ones orange.

tags: @hornegaethot @tittiesarenice

(if you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!)

#bnha #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo x sweet! reader #bakugou katsuki #Soft Bakugou #bakugou x you #mha fluff #salon! au #innocent reader #Sweet!Reader #strangers to lovers

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glamoureddreamer · 1 year

Text

Memories

Bendy and the ink machine (Sammy Lawrence x Reader)

Warnings: blood/gore, violence (please let me know if I’ve missed anything)

Thank you everyone! I hope you all have a fantastic day and a great night!

(Y/n) wanders the upper halls, listening to every small noise. The rustle of papers- freeze, the creaking of wood- stop.

Drips echoed through the halls, from the ink and her open wound. She was looking for supplies and didn’t see the lost one. It had got her good.

Thankfully she wasn’t far from the music department, inside the music department was the medical station. Hopefully, it would have something to at least stop the bleeding.

She holds onto the wall using it to balance herself, fuck a wound on your stomach was annoying. It felt like she couldn’t walk, though she pushed through and walked up the stairs. She was determined not to die.

She enters the music department the lights were on low making it harder to see. She stumbles her way toward the medical station.

She holds onto a desk rummaging through it, trying to search for a bandage. Once she finds a nice big roll she smiles. She grabs it shakily and closes the drawer. She finds a chair and drops into it, she nearly fell over. She pulled up her shirt and examined the cut.

Thankfully it wasn’t that large but it was just deep enough to cause problems. She messily wraps the bandage around her stomach. She made it as tight as she could, which hurt a lot more than she thought it would.

She stays there for a moment relaxing. She takes deep breaths trying to ease the pain. After a while she stood up, the bandage did help.

She leaves the medical station and heads back to the stairs. She had originally planned to leave though, the upper levels were safer. Not to mention there were no doubt more resources and she had lost a lot to the lost one. She turns around and walks back into the music department.

She searches around for tools she could use. She opens a crate. It was a crate full of posters, she picks one up examining it. She opens it and freezes in her spot.

These posters were ones she had created. They were for the music department and the face of the music department himself, Samuel Lawrence. He looked happy on the front cover.

Though she knew him personally and he wasn’t happy often unless he was at home. However he was always nice and happy around her. Memories play through her mind of a better time. Sammy always walked her out to her car. How he always got nervous around her. Him yelling about the pipes and only (Y/n) was able to calm him. She sets the poster down and gave it a small sad smile.

She turns around to be face to face with a lost one. It jumps on her before she could prevent it. She cries out as it pushes on her open wound. It tried to attack her neck but she pushes its head away.

She tried kicking it but nothing worked. Ink drips onto her, she hoped it didn’t leak into her open wound but that was the least of her concern. Right as it drew closer from her arms getting weak, it froze screaming out in pain. Before it drips weakly on her body.

(Y/n) scrambles away from the body, she looks up at the cause of the lost one’s death. It was another lost one, though he held an axe with ink dripping from it. It also wore a bendy mask that was beaten up and covered in ink and dirt. It holds its hand out. She hesitated taking it. It had just saved her, surely it could be trusted. Once she did it helped her off the ground.

“Are you okay?” It asked, the voice sounded so familiar. Yet she couldn’t place it. She nods a little, and the lost one brushes his hand over her wound. She hisses in pain, he pulls his hand away immediately.

“Follow me I can take you somewhere safe.” The lost one helped lead her to a small office. It did look safe but it was also a mess, clearly living here wasn’t the best. Though it was better than nothing.

It sits her down on a makeshift cot. It grabs bandages from its own small storage as (Y/n) looks around the office still. It gently unravels the messily done bandages and slowly begins to replace them.

“Why are you helping me?” She asked quietly. It had been so quiet it felt as if she had to be quiet. The lost one looked up, the mask was a little unsettling but it saved her it is safe so she pushed it aside.

“Don’t you remember me?” It asked. She only tilted her head.

“I suppose I don’t look quite like my old self, it’s me, Samuel.”

(Y/n) felt her world freeze, she covered her mouth.

“Sammy?… Oh my god is it really you?” She asked tears coming to her eyes. Sammy chuckled and nods but before he could respond she pulls him into a tight hug.

She ignores the pain in her abdomen, shoving her face into his inky shoulder not caring.

“I missed you.” She said her voice wavering. Sammy hugs her rubbing her back.

“I missed you too (Y/n).”

#batim fanfiction #batim sammy #sammy lawrence #Samuel Lawrence #sammy lawrence x reader #batim fandom #batim fic #batim lost ones #batim x reader

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catsafarithewriter · 9 months

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A/N: PART 23 of the Bedlam au!

The Other Baron freezes and Haru twists her hands free. The immobilising reaction in her limbs have slackened, and she almost stumbles in surprise, only to be steadied by Other Muta's paw upon her shoulder.

Ah, right.

She'd almost forgotten the rest of the Other Bureau, and she tenses, bracing for the ensuing argument.

"I have to go home, Muta."

"I know, Chicky." He sounds different – tired, and Haru realises she can't remember the last time she heard Other Muta being anything but cheerfully upbeat. He looks drained now, slightly stooped like a puppet with its strings loosened. "Hey, birdbrain, we good to go?"

Other Toto tilts his head, watching something beyond the Bureau balcony windows. "There's two of them this time, enough to keep him occupied for longer this time, but not by much. If she's going, you'd better make it now."

Other Muta glances to the Other Baron. The Creation's head is tilted, as if caught mid-thought, but the brows continue to twitch. Occasionally a finger will flicker.

Haru is sure she sees the ghost of a smile catch on the corner of his lips.

"No time for dilly-dallying, Chicky; time to skedaddle," Other Muta prompts, and propels her in the direction of the Bureau doors.

Haru can't help it; she cranes her neck back to catch another glimpse of the Other Baron. "What's happening to him? It's not the same as my freezing, is it?"

"Nah," Other Muta dismisses. The doors swing shut behind them, closing off Haru's view. "He's just got too many plates in the air at once, and this one's taking all his focus."

"What plate – oh."

Between Toto's column and the archway out, there is a giant ball, seemingly woven of silk thread, or perhaps wool. At Haru's current diminished size, it could hold at least three of her comfortably, and even as she watches, more strands slither across the surface. Within, lights shimmer.

"What's that?"

"The reason you're getting outta here." Other Muta steers her towards the archway which will lead her back to her world. "But we ain't got long before – oh, sh–"

"GET BACK HERE!"

The Other Baron erupts through the Bureau doors, moving with unnatural speed with legs longer than Haru remembers. His face looks different – and not just with the unfamiliar rage – but not in any way Haru wants to get closer to see.

Haru tries to stumble to the archway, to her portal home, but Other Muta's paw on her shoulder holds her in place. The tiredness she'd seen earlier in him has vanished; back is that undaunted cheerfulness that now sets her nerves on edge. It feels artificial, in a way she'd never noticed before.

"Where do you think you're going, Chicky?"

She squirms in his grip, just enough to meet his uncanny smile. "Home, Muta, please–"

Her voice catches as she spots the threads, silver and sliver-thin, rising from him. Like silk, or cobwebs...

Or puppet strings.

She drops a hand into her bag, but the action is sluggish, struggling as another immobilising spell creeps through her – but now she can see the web she's snagged against, trapping her in place.

The Other Baron has slowed, the rage replaced by reassurance of his trapped companion prey, and yet there is still an ugliness to his emotions. "Do you really think you can just leave, Miss Haru? After all the time you've spent here? After all the effort I've put in?"

Only Haru's fingers are free, and they scrabble at the contents of her bag. "What are you?" she rasps through numbed lips.

"Why, I'm your friend, Miss Haru. I'm the Baron you wanted." He approaches, and his limbs grow long and thin – they had always been gaunt, but now they are beyond skeletal. His hands become nothing but claws. "Don't you recognise me?"

"I think I would remember wishing for this," she hisses, and her fingers find purchase on her penknife. She slices through the web mooring her hand. Her arm judders free and snaps more of the threads anchoring her, the knife severing what didn't immediately give, and she hears the not-Baron give an unholy screech.

She doesn't afford him a glance – she doesn't have the time and, anyway, she can clearly hear his frantic approach – and she sweeps her penknife up, cleaving the web binding Other Muta's paw.

His grip loosens, and Haru stumbles back. Just a few more steps – the archway home is so close – and her legs snag against more cobwebs. She slips. She sees Other Muta's paw come for her again – she slashes with the knife – misses – and finally she glimpses the terrible, furious form of the not-Baron, sunken face and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth –

Other Muta's paw snags the lapels of her coat. A smile – small and lopsided – ghosts across his face.

"Don't come back, Chicky."

And he pushes her through the archway.

Just before the portal swallows her up, she sees another burst of light from the silk sphere. Within, she glimpses two humanoid silhouettes, and then she is stumbling out onto into her world.

She spins around, but the doorway is already gone. Instead, her Sanctuary lies open before her, empty and quiet.

#bedlam au #cat writes #the final act is upon us ;)#things get bumpy from here #and not just because of my pacing lol

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claire-starsword · 1 month

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The Guardiana Magic School Run - Part 17

Hey everyone, remember this? I sure don't! I was swept away by the task of translating the novel and, while this haunted my every moment as something i didn't want to leave unfinished, i barely remember what was going on. I do remember being not excited at all for the boring battle ahead, but hey, chapter 6 is a difficulty spike, so let's get over this already.

First of all, let's make things even easier.

We're past easter and egg hunts, it's now time for fish hunts. Hanzou pops out as a reward of this silly puzzle, which is leagues better than his original hiding spot. Also we get to enjoy more chapters with him. That's right, he's a magic user! Totally valid for this run.

I also thought you needed to click on the fish to find him but you just have to stand on it. So he just jumped out while i was busy typing, which scared the hell out of me, don't do that again, man.

Anyway, his attack is massive, surpassing even Max, but his defense is uh, on par with Tao's. That's bad (she does have a couple Steel Rings to have that though). Because of that, I'm passing the Repel Ring from Gong to him so that he doesn't have to worry about counters at least. We can do even better though.

I completely forgot in the last updates, but Waral sells a unique item, the Wind Ring, which grants +5% evasion. I don't think I'll be needing too much money for a while, I'm holding back on a lot of promotions so mages and healers won't be using the late staves yet, also I remember there is at least one free Holy Staff next chapter. Also, evasion is very ninja-like, isn't? So I get two for Hanzou, one for Gong and one for Tao. I also set Hanzou with some Healing Seeds and a Shower Cure, as I have some of these just laying around, I guess? I really don't remember a lot lol

Anyway, it's time to leave Waral for what I consider the most boring battle in all of this game.

It's the ship. Again. It was easy last time too. Yay.

Truly this chapter is the filler arc of Shining Force. It even got a beach on it.

Anyway, the clear bonus is the Soulbuster, which has already shown up in the Deals section, but would be nice to get it for free instead. I probably already talked about it when it first popped up, but who says I remember that, and who says you can make me shut up. So, the Soulbuster is a sword made for human enemies. There are not many of those, I think the Dark Priests count, but! I believe it counts for Cain. You can see it's being given right before chapter 6. And while this run has been easy so far, I still fear Cain. I ALWAYS fear Cain. So yeah, I want this.

Thankfully this battle won't waste our time with enemies behind the ship. We can just advance. I believe more enemies will be spawning in the middle.

Domingo is my greatest tank by far in both HP and defense, so he can probably handle whatever.

Arthur apparently has good defense right now, which always takes me by surprise.

I assume there's no need to stress here, so I'm spamming heals with the healers to get exp, and I don't think Narsha's Attack boosts will be needed even everyone's pretty strong already, so I'm Boosting Anri's spells with her instead. She levels up for her troubles and get Attack level 3, which I don't think I ever used.

Turn 2. Only a Sea Bat came forth. I'm bored. Domingo continues to advance and taunt enemies while tossing a Freeze 1 at it. Arthur finishes the job.

My plan with Narsha was to boost Tao's spells next, but she doesn't need it, so I'm casting step on Anri instead to see if she can reach enemies, because this woman is behind on levels and it's sad. It's still not enough for her to reach anything yet!! dang it!!

Turn 3. Trying to bait a pegasus knight with Domingo while still trying to get rid of this Gargoyle before it reaches anyone squishier.

how is he real

Arthur is poisoned but I honestly don't think that matters. He levels up and gets +3 attack.

Oh I'm remembering now how absurd this woman currently is.

Khris is so nice that she actually reaches to heal 3 HP of Arthur instead of spamming for exp only. With this she nabs an important level up! She has Heal 3 now, which was my main reason for delaying her promotion. I'm still on the fence if I'll delay until level 20 for Aura, depends on the equipment we'll get next chapter, and if I'll even get opportunities to safely use these priests for attacking.

Turn 4. Finally the pegasus knights are coming, and more enemies have spawned. Unlike what I thought they spawn further to the right. The empty middle of this map really was just to waste our time. Fiiiiiiiller.

Domingo has a chance to do AoE, and I love that. I am a bit worried about Anri exposed, but I'm hoping she can survive at least one hit, and that they'll also be obsessed by Max as usual. I don't wanna miss the bonus so I need someone to go ahead.

Arthur finishes the bat. Tao sadly cannot reach anything. Khris can, but I'm worried so I'll continue spamming heal for now.

Hanzou debuts with style! And then I cramp his style by failing to screenshot that caption properly, it was a double attack.

Max obliterates a bat with unnecessary violence (critical i failed to screenshot), and also does his most important job: baiting everything and anything away from Anri.

Unfortunately these enemies are so easy that she gets only 16 exp from a kill, I'm fighting a losing battle trying to get anything useful out of this.

BWAH???

okay i completely forgot that Max's defense hasn't keep up with the enemies in this run, I'm way too used with this man being a tank. At least he does have lots of HP to spare. And the other enemies aren't nearly as strong as the knights (knights have 30 attack, conches have 22 and the bats even less).

Thankfully Lowe moves right away to help his roommate. Also Arthur kills a conch on counter, which is awesome.

On Turn 5 he one hit kills another Conch and I regret scrolling fast because he gets another massive level up which i would've liked to screenshot. Lots of 4 and 5, you had to see it. Really wild how good he is if you put in the effort.

Tao obliterates the greatest threat we faced here.

I decide Max can just tank for a while and maybe, just maybe, Anri can get something more out of this.

Since the battle is ending I waste a whole Aura of Narsha just to heal Arthur's poison damage. She gets 20 exp out of that, which is wonderful, I love mass healing.

Hanzou continues to be wonderful. I was right about the rings.

She gets a level! :D

Turn 6. I start worrying about the bonus and decide Arthur should just kill the final enemy. Arthur proceeds to miss. Then Domingo gets a Freeze on the thing and I decide to risk things a bit and wait for Anri to get the kill. Not like she can miss, I'm just paranoid about doing things tight like this.

But never mind that! Everything goes perfectly fine, and she gets… 9 exp.

Please let this filler end already.

[insert screenshot of the clear bonus here, i hit the image limit but we did get it]

Losses: 0 Deaths: 2

#shining force #ressurection of the dark dragon #guardiana magic school run #long post #i've already played part 18 btw. hopefully it won't take as long to post #i also promise it is far more exciting than this

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pinkhairandpokemon · 2 months

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⏳

[You see a younger Blake walk into what must’ve been their house at the time. Here, they look to be at least eight, nine or possibly ten. School bag on their back, they walk into the kitchen and call out with a smile on their face.

“Charlie! I’m back!”

But then, you see them freeze. Their smile drops. They stare at an empty dog cage on the far side of the dining area. Blinking a few times, they turn to another, taller figure who enters the room. A woman with dark brown hair, tied back with a green bow.

“Hey honey,” their mother greets them. “How was school?” Something about her tone feels a bit off. Casual, but with a hint of tension. Like she’s working her way up to ripping the bandage off of something.

“Mom?” Blake doesn’t register her question. “Where’s Charlie?”

The mother’s face visibly sinks. With a heavy sigh, she sets the coffee mug she’d been holding on the table and avoids their gaze as she walks to the kitchen, likely getting ready to prepare dinner.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” she sighs. “Someone came to take him away.”

She says it so calmly, so nonchalantly, like it’s a minor inconvenience. But you can see it in the way Blake’s eyes shift; their entire world had been shattered.

“You know it was for the best,” their mother continues before they can even ask questions or react in any sort of way. “He just got too rambunctious for us ever since he became a Herdier. He’ll be much happier where he’s going.”

Blake’s mouth just hangs open for a long while. “…Where is he going?”

“A nice organization dedicated to stuff like re-homing Pokémon in need came to pick him up this morning after you went to school. They’re called… the Plasma Foundation, something like that? I’m not quite sure,” she explains as she begins pulling vegetables out of the fridge. “But they seemed like trustworthy folk. They’ll take good care of him, I’m sure.”

Blake falls quiet again. After a long moment, their mother sighs heavier this time and turns to them with an almost frustrated expression, brows furrowed. “We talked about this,” she states firmly. “If his behavior didn’t start to get any better, we’d have to find him a new home. I’m sorry, ______, but it had to be done.”

There’s an obvious overflow of emotion behind Blake’s eyes, but the young not-yet-trainer stays still. You think they’re on the verge of breaking down completely. Of either bursting into tears or screaming furiously. In their situation, being a child, you don’t think you’d blame them for doing so.

But they don’t. Instead, they just nod. They force a smile.

“O-okay.” they mutter, low enough to hide the waver in their voice. “Y-yeah, I-I know. I understand.

Another beat of silence passes. Their mother goes back to preparing the stove, not long before Blake turns to the stairs a few feet away.

“I’m gonna go back to my room for a little while.”

“Okay,” their mother replies without looking up from her current task. “I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready.”

You watch as Blake travels up the steps, turns down a hallway, and enters through a door decorated on the outside with various Unovan Pokémon stickers. Closing it behind them, they stare blankly at a particular corner of their bedroom. A spot where an empty dog bed and a few stray toys currently lie.

They stand there so long you almost think this “memory footage” has frozen. Then, you watch them move over to their bed, walking with legs beginning that are to tremble. They sit down, and they lie sideways on the mattress, resting their head on their pillow.

A few more seconds, and then you see a tear escape through the corner of their eye. And then another. And another. More and more until the side of their face and the bridge of their nose is soaked. Their quiet, choked sobs echo through the dimly lit room.

The video’s end gives you a strong, nearly overwhelming sense of loneliness from the younger Blake.]

#ooc post #(( plasma foundation: earlier version of team plasma #when they were disguised as a normal pkmn advocacy group ))#pokeblogging #pokemon irl #pokeblog rp #pokemon #pokemon oc #pokemon rp #trainer blake #asks #(( also in case it wasn’t clear: this isn’t referring to their Boltund 👀 ))#(( also the blanked out part is where Blake’s deadname would be since this is before they came out ))

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anonymous-user-a · 2 months

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[Video ID: The sound of someone coughing into a rag is immediately evident, followed by a raspy voice calling out to the supposed emptiness, "Hello? S'meone there?" Footsteps - shaky, injured footsteps - are also audible; clearly, the cause of them is limping.

Archer is completely silent and still. This was already an unpleasant task, and now - chances are - she was in active danger as well. It turns to look around the corner, immediately freezing and regretting it upon seeing Petrel less than a few feet away. He was pathetically clinging to the wall, his legs too wobbly to carry him without assistance.

It appears he also spots A from where he is, "Arch? Oh- man, I'm-", he coughs into the rag a bit before continuing, "I'm s' glad t' see ya, pal. It's a bit quiet 'ere now, ain't it? I don' s'ppose you've heard be breakin' the door down, no?" He says it lightheartedly, smiling at A with a gleam of familiarity.

It can hardly help being confused at the pleasantries, before realising something as unsettling as it was useful. Petrel thinks that xe is Arrow. Now isn't the time to wonder what that means, now is the time to keep the facade up - lest the situation worsen... But, then again... How much of a threat could a limping, coughing Petrel truly be? "The feeling is mutual... I thought you were dead, like everyone else...", at least that isn't a lie. The smile she tries to return sounds like it is, strained with worry like their voice, "How... How did you even survive?"

"Ah. An' here I thought the Big Boss was killin' off lil ole me, huh?" he laughs it off. "... Ari and Proton were...?" he trails off, coughing harshly into the rag again for a prolonged amount of time. "Agh. They're gonna hav'ta try harder than that t' kill me. Y'know that. Good ole Petrel's still got a lotta tricks up his sleeve." he chuckles out. "... An' the two kids? They oughta be okay, no?" He asks, his own voice stringing together with a worried tone.

Watching Petrel cough so harshly is certainly unsettling... Archer can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that this was all their fault. Ze brushes it off; they deserved this, all of them. There's no reason to feel bad. Not at all. "... And the Boss...", the words came out far more melancholic than Archer intended. Though, that's not exactly a bad thing in this situation, "The Boss is gone too..." It pretends to shake off the grief - or, rather, wishes it were pretend - and continues with the lie, "I have yet to see them. I could not tell you... But, yes, you are right. They will need to try a lot harder to kill us... Team Rocket never dies." Archer should feel disgusted saying that, but it felt so... Natural that it comes out almost like a celebration of their own failure.

"Ah... ... You still ain't plannin' on makin' little Silver the new Boss, are ya? Y'know, he ain't the only full-blood Sakaki around 'ere. Kid's still learnin' ain't he? That is... if we find 'em. Them kids are tough, though. Wouldn't be surprised if they made it out by themselves, y'know... As much as I don't agree to it, y' really made 'em strong li critters, I'll tell y' that. You oughta give 'em a break every once in awhile, man."

"Be quiet.", it seems like that was a sore spot for Archer. Ce clearly wants to tell Petrel the truth in his rage; that she killed all of them, that Arrow is dead, that the children are safe. But it bites hir tongue. It is better to stay quiet for now. They need to think of a plan, and quickly. Petrel can't be left to roam around, that is for certain.

He huffs slightly, "C'mon, man. We're all that's left, ain't we? Gotta stick t'gether now... ... Hopefully we can move on somewhere. I know lil Silver's been wanting to plant a garden now. He's such a bright young boy, y'know? His face just lights up when he talks about it... I hope he and the other boy made it out... I'd hate for somethin' else t' happen to them." Petrel sighs, now leaning against the wall.

"... It is not as simple as just "moving on". You know this.", Archer's chest tightens, why did Petrel have to be right? Why did he have to be Petrel? Archer's no fool - if anyone would be seeking to trick hir it would be Petrel. She knows that trusting him could lead to its death - who wouldn't be angry over the deaths of their closest friends? But, Arceus, Petrel made it hard to resist trusting him. "We have purposes we need to fill. We are all that is left, so we need to rebuild it together.", every word feels sharp in his throat, she could particularly feel the bile with every single sentence. It feels disgusting.

"... I guess so. I mean, you know I was neva fond of Proton. Guy was always a weird creep. Can't really believe *you* of all people would marry him.", he laughs, slowly fading into a cough. "Sorry, sorry. Probably not somethin' t' laugh at... As much as I love my family, man, we both know how much big ole Gio would stress me out. And Ari... Don't get me started on her, man. I mean, who can blame a kid for something like that, y'know? Sorry, 'm prolly ranting off yer ear..."

"... We should keep the dead buried.", Archer sounded genuinely unwell after hearing the information about who Arrow was married to. She didn't wish to know that information. Perhaps beating Arrow to death was more of a mercy than xe'd thought. "We should try to investigate. We need to find out who killed them... Then we can talk about who they were."

"... How exactly are we gonna move Gio's body all th' way t' Viridian, man? He would've wanted t' be buried with Rose, y'know...", he sighs, crossing his arms at the thought. "... 'S not like anythin' would come outta it. In the end, we're just assets, ain't we? Y'know how many times my bro's been tryin'a rid me off.", he rubs his face a bit. "'M gonna go look for the boys, aight? Poor things are prolly starvin' by now - prolly still locked in their room..."

"... We will figure something out. We should probably go check on the body to see what we can do. Then, we can see if the brats are alright. An extra couple of minutes will not kill them...", A plan is clearly starting to form; the shovel was left with Giovanni, so Archer will obtain it and use it to knock Petrel unconscious. Then, he can be restrained, giving Archer time to figure out how to resolve the situation.

"True. True.", he nods along, slowly pushing himself off the wall and limping over.

Logically, the best decision would have been to avoid getting closer to Petrel. Despite this, Archer gets closer, offering some support for the limping man. She'll just chalk it up to him looking pathetic.

"... Y'know, for someone covered in blood, y' don' look half-bad."

The compliment immediately catches Archer off-guard, "Uh- Well, I suppose you do not look terrible considering your... Current condition. Besides, this is far from my first time being covered in blood."

He chuckles, "I guess not, huh? I look like crap compared t' ya."

"... I suppose we have both seen better days."

Petrel hums, nodding before he breaks down into a rough fit of coughing. A bit of blood seeps from his mouth the more he coughs... Arceus, what kind of fate did Archer curse him to? At least they are getting closer to Giovanni's office, despite how little Archer wants to return to it.

"Urgh...", he gags, wiping at his mouth with the rag, "Poison-types, aye?"

So that's what the rag's for, "... I suppose so."

"Eh, ain't the first time yer pal Petrel's gotten poisoned. Remember that dinner, Arch? Left me kneelin' over a toilet all night.", he chuckles. Concerning.

"I recall...", she doesn't.

A long silence fills the room, suffocating and awkward. Petrel is the one to break it.

"... So, Gio's really dead, huh?"

"Do you honestly believe I would lie about that?"

"Guess not. 'E's still my older brother, y'know. Guess 'm still processin' it."

"... I understand. It is probably going to feel like he is not really gone for a while."

"Mhm...", and the silence returns, just as somber as before.

Eventually, the two arrive at the office, the door closed. Archer opens it and helps Petrel inside. The purple-haired man examines Giovanni's corpse with a hiss and a wince, "Yikes..." While he is distracted, Archer picks up the bloodied shovel, looking over its shoulder to gauge Petrel's reaction. He appears to be talking to Giovanni's mangled corpse as if he were still living. Something about their mother. It's hard to tell, inaudible to the camera. Part of Archer can't help but feel bad about the situation, as the shovel weighs down their hands. It's truly a sorry sight. Maybe xe can justify it beyond self-defence. It was simply... Putting Petrel out of the misery of seeing his dead brother. That's at least what comforts her as the shovel rises behind Petrel's head.

There's no justification needed for when it falls, knocking Petrel unconscious.

After a few seconds, Archer throws the shovel to her side, checking his pulse and breathing. Judging by the relieved sigh she lets out, he seems to be fine, other than the wound. With resignation, Archer stands; it's time to get to work. The video ends there.]

#[thank you edgymcfries for rping this interaction with me]

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snow-143 · 10 months

Text

The Truth Untold- Kim Taehyung |

Eleven- take care of you (1.4k) |

The next couple of days are awkward to say the least. After the whole waking up in his bed situation I reverted to avoiding him at all costs.

Waking up in his bed wasn't necessarily the problem, after all I grew up sleeping in his bed. The problem is how right it felt, like slipping back into old habits that's never really left you. But more than that was how much I enjoyed being surrounded by him.

I didn't leave his room straight away after we woke up, instead i stayed curled up in his sheets, wishing he was still holding me, with the excuse that Eun hadn't left for classes yet.

I stayed there in his warmth and presence, simply absorbing it all. But soon Eun's presence started leaking through, in the way that her voice echoes through the apartment while she sings along to her music, the way her light footsteps taper around the house and suddenly I was surrounded by her instead.

That's when reality set in. solidifying its place with the slam of our front door as she leaves.

Tae seemed hesitant when I got up to leave, it almost makes me think he was also sad for this moment to end, but he doesn't stop me.

So now we're back to square one. The only difference is my longing to see him now and that's why I need to distance myself. Just until this passes, up until him and Eun are a thing and I can forget all of these foolish thoughts.

I have successfully avoided anything to do with Kim Taehyung for a solid 3 days now, I would congratulate myself if I wasn't constantly conjuring up thoughts of him.

If I'm being honest, the past 3 days have been hell. Before when I ignored him he let me, it was simple, we both stayed in our own space. But not this time. Nope he just has to make it difficult.

Especially difficult when he wakes up earlier than he usually would, trying to catch me sneaking out on the mornings.

But I survived 3 days, and now I'm being rewarded. With alcohol.

God do I need to get drunk right now.

It was Jin's idea, he suggested me, him, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hobi + his wife and one of his new employees go drinking tonight. I couldn't have agreed quicker. Plus I want to meet this girl he's been talking so much about.

'You heading out?' Instantly freezing in my spot I curse myself for wearing heels that click with every step, knowing he probably heard me walking.

Slowly turning around I scramble my brain on what to say, 'Um yeah I'm going out drinking with my friends.' Casual enough.

'Ah okay. Have fun.' He seems just as awkward as me despite his efforts to talk to me the past couple of days. Seeing him now makes me feel kind of bad, but I brush that off. Everything will be alright when I have some alcohol in my system.

'Thank you.' It's said through a tight smile. Before I quickly scurry my way out of the apartment.

—————

'I love you guys. You know that right.' My friends are currently surrounding me and I could think of no better place to be. Well maybe I could think of one.

'We know.' There're multiple voices at once making me feel dizzy. I can faintly feel someone's arm around my waist holding me up.

'Y/n you've gotta drink some water, and we need to get you home safe, okay?' I can't tell who's talking but either way I'm not very fond of them at the moment.

'What nooooo I'm having so much fun!!!'

'I know you are love but think about how nice it'd feel to be curled up in bed right now. We can even go to mine if you don't want to go home.' Their voice is gentle, much like their arm around me. Finally, looking at them, it takes my eyes a minute to focus on their feature but once I do I recognise him to be Yoongi.

'I wanna stay with our friends though. haven't seen them in so long.' I'm pouting at this point, but I can't find it in me to be embarrassed.

'We'll see them again. Sounds good yeah? But for tonight it's time to sleep.'

'Can I say goodbye first?' My mood has suffered a drastic shift in the last couple of moments.

He nods in reply and I peel myself away from him to give my friends hugs goodbye.

After I've made it round the whole group I begin to hear some sort of bickering.

'So you thought it was a good idea to call him?' Looking over at the noise I see Yoongi, Namjoon and...

'Tae?' Now all of their attention is on me.

'Y/nie.'

'What are you doing here?' I slur, being genuinely confused. 'Did you come to join us?'

'Not quite, no.'

'Oh.' I deflate, hoping that we could all continue drinking.

'He's here to take you home y/n.' Namjoon gives me a soft smile.

'Oh. But I thought I was going home with Yoongi?' Tilting my head I give the boys a questioning gaze.

Taehyung starts to walk towards me, 'Not any more, I'm gonna to take care of you from now on, okay?'

My face lights up at this, 'Okay!' It comes out with a giggle. My carefree happiness seem to be matched with his.

He's smiling down at me and I swear everything feels right in this moment.

Why have I been avoiding him again? I swear I'll never avoid him again because this feeling is something I never want to let go of.

But then again, it might just be that alcohol that's making me feel this way. I decide not to dwell on that thought though, I just want to enjoy this while it lasts.

'Let's get going then.' He's still smiling at me. His boxy smile that does things to my heart. The disappointment of leaving that I felt before is long gone as he grabs my hand to lead me to his car.

I almost forget to say a last goodbye to the others as I stare at our hands connected.

Giving them a quick wave my eyes settle on Yoongi first, he doesn’t seem happy at all. It confuses me, but I’m too carefree to linger on that fact and I soon forget when my eyes land on Mina, Jin's plus one for the night, I giggle as she gives me a wink. She's awfully kind and the memory of how Jin Hyung was doting over her has me yet again giggling. He looked so smitten with her.

Winking back I whisper at her, 'Make sure he works for it.' Although by the way I hear Jin choke and curse at what I mean I don't think I quite executed the discretion I was hoping for.

By this point I'm not really paying attention, too rapped up on how Tae helps me into the passenger seat and straps me in. Far too focused on the way he strokes my hair behind my ear and asks how I'm feeling from his squatting position. Replaying the words that came out in a stolen whisper.

When I finally reply with a soft nod his hand retreats from my face, and he circles the car. I'm disappointed for a moment, until he enters the car and suddenly everything's alright again.

Wanting the contact back I grab his hand and draw it over onto my lap. He seems startled by this, his wide eyes gazing at me, but I just smile back. He eventually returns my gesture and sets his eyes onto the road ahead.

The car ride seems to last an eternity yet not nearly long enough. His thumb is moving in slow circles over my hand and I swear this is the most content I've ever felt.

He's humming along to the distant sound of the quiet music that is coming from the radio. It's a slow and romantic song.

Finding it hard to remove my gaze from his side profile, I eventually decide to gaze out of the window instead. The view is beautiful. Putting the window down I relish in the feeling if the delicate wind blowing through my hair.

This. This is a better place to be I think.

The moment is so perfect, and I find myself being disappointed when I start to recognise the street we're going down. Knowing this moment inevitably has to end. That this feeling has to end.

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a/n: fluff fluff and more fluff… hope yous enjoy it before it all falls apart 😁

#bts non idol au #bts x reader #fanfic #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung #angst #bts f2l #childhood f2l #books #fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts v #bts angst #bts #v #tae x reader

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xxventiswindblumexx · 2 years

Text

I'm making an original story! Here's the first chapter!

𓁹The Lost One𓁹

Chapter one

░Cold░

It was a dark and foggy night as she ran, she ran faster and faster through the woods, she could hear the policemen chasing her.

She had done no wrong, her father however had much more to pay for the crimes he's committed against her, one of which is falsely claiming his own child of insanity and being sent away, she couldn't go back, not again.

SLASH

She tumbles some in a puddle before getting up and running again, the lights of their flashlights and dogs barking seem to get a bit distant but not enough for her to even rest for a moment, she couldn't fathom why she had to live this life, why of all people was the girl who done nothing but please everyone become a target of such abusive. She wouldn't know nor would such a damaged mind understand even if explained.

As she ran the sounds and lights soon got more distant, the forest around her seemed to change both in looks and atmosphere, erie and cold. She could've swore she seen yellow eyes staring at her if she had stopped to check but now's not the time.

Soon enough the sounds and lights stopped all together as she crumbled to her knees and hands, breathing heavily as he clutched her chest, she wore a hospital gown. She could hardly breathe as she had been running for so long barely taking the time to breathe.

She finally looked up, it was pitch dark, cold and wet in an unfamiliar place, however it's a better spot then where she had been, or the destination of her new twisted home to be if she hadnt ran.

Her hand found something warm but soft, she didn't want to look down at what was beneath her hand but felt it was there anyways, she brought her shaking fingers to touch her face, she wasn't sure but she felt tears fall down her cheeks.

She sniffed loudly, trying to regain her breath while trying not to cry anymore, trying her best to stop the shivering that began to spread throughout her body.

She sat quietly on the ground for awhile just listening to nature, the sound of her own heavy and ragged breaths were the only things she heard as she tried to calm herself down, her hand still touching her cheek and her hair falling over her shoulders.

She felt a drop fall on her, then another and another, God's, what a bad time for rain, yet she didn't seem bothered by it. She always loved to play in the rain as a small child before things went bad, before her mother died. She would welcome the feeling of the freezing rain as she managed through the aching pain of her legs to stand and continue on, this time at a much slower and calm pace, her hands dragging on each tree she passed.

She couldn't feel her feet or fingers anymore, surely by frost bite at this point.

She needed to find somewhere anywhere to sleep, a cave, and old broken shed or even an old hunters post would at least provide some kind of protection from the rain.

As she walked the more blurred her vision got and more shallow her breath became, she could tell she probably wouldn't have much longer, sure she would've survived in the asylum where she was originally going. But this place... This place had no shelter whatsoever, it was just death and pain.

Suddenly she heard footsteps coming towards her, she turned her head to see a pair of feet, monstrous type, they were far too large for a person or even someone like herself. Her blood ran cold.

She slowly stood up, using the few trees nearby to keep herself from hitting the ground. She didn't know whether the approaching creature would kill her or help her out, she just knew she would prefer if the latter didn't happen.

The stranger came close enough that she could make out a rather large wolf like body yet his head was a skull with Antlers, whatever this 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 was, it certainly didn't seem very welcoming to her.

Falling onto her back as her legs couldn't hold her up anymore, she tried to push herself backwards away, in some pathetic preys desperation to escape a predator much stronger then it.

She felt her mind go fuzzy, she hasn't slept, ate or even drank much in the past few days, all catching up with her as the last thing she sees is the creature leaning into her with his snout, as if to examine her. As her eyes closed all she could think of was of how cold it was how the wind stung her skin and the snow seeped into her clothes, making her colder than before. As she drifted into darkness she could imagine her mother comforting her but instead of the love and warmth she thought of, she saw her smiling and hugging her, telling her everything will be alright, as if her dying mother never existed.

And as she lost consciousness, she remembered the words her mother whispered into her ear, those words she'd never forget, and she thought that if her mother hadn't died when she did, she might've grown up happy, and healthy.

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taleswrittena · 1 year

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@guideoftime sent

Sheik was struggling.

He has been struggling since the timeline was reset and he woke up in the body of a seven year old with the added bonus of too many memories and a dead mother. Not that Impa was dead, but being sentenced to the life of a Sage was practically no different. Everyone he spoke to seemed under the impression she was dead. They couldn’t be blamed, he reasoned, they didn’t remember. No one remembered.

The things the Hero and him did. The trials and tribulations they went through. The blood he spilled. None of it happened and his mind seemed to have a hard time wrapping around that. Sheik was too old in a body too young, and a vindictive part of his brain wanted to ask; was this how Link felt? Too young in a body too big? He never had a chance to ask that. Never had a chance to sit and just play music with him, for the sake of playing it, not to teach him the spell to go to a dangerous place.

Sheik—probably grew too fast this time. He tormented the guards because he was stressed and upset, he acted out, he trained his body hard to take his stress out on something. By the time he was already the age he’d started his journey at, he finally wrapped his head around what was going on and calmed down. At least, until he paid a visit to the Korok’s forest.

Learning Link went to Termina was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. He doesn’t know what he expected to find in the forest, his heart had just been cold and empty. What he learned there though, seemed to make it freeze over. Honestly, he didn’t expect the man to return and he wouldn’t blame him for not. Hyrule was a place that probably held too many memories, too cruel or thoughts, that much was something he could agree on. But it hurts that he left, in a way he can’t explain. It almost feels like he was left behind.

As an adult, an actual one, the King finally prompted him to Zelda’s retainer. Her guard. It wasn’t a position he wanted, nor was it one he got a say in. This was what the Sheikah were born for, defending and protecting the Royal family. Doing their bidding. Their dirty work. Sheik spends most of his days stuck beside Zelda hidden away somewhere. Watching her, making sure no one tries to hurt her.

He hates it. He’s bored. Sheik wasn’t designed for court life. It shows. He was built for a war that ended but his body doesn’t seem to realize that.

He was wandering around the Castle today, Zelda had sent him on an errand to Lan Lan Ranch that only took him a few hours to complete. He was spending the rest of his time just trying to clear his head. He was half tempted to find the library and read a book. Anything to distract himself. One of the guards he passed made a snide comment, muttered under his breath to his coworker. He doesn’t seem to realize Sheik has above average hearing and he catches the jab. “Sheik the Sheikah.” His name was not funny, there’s depth and meaning to it.

He’ll happily educate them.

As he pulls one of his blades at his thigh, just to startle them he won’t stab them yet, he feels someone else’s hand grab at his wrist. Hard. Covered in a glove. Thick leather. He seems to know it before he even has to look. Who it is. A hand he often watched wrapped around the hilt of a sword.

His heart races. Catches in his throat. There’s the slightest bit of a tremble and he turns.

Blood red eyes meet a pair of very familiar blue.

“Hero.”

Bits and pieces of memory brings him to hyrule castle. Memories that come in a blur and not all at once. One thing that is very vivid in his mind is a Sheikah. Someone that feels familiar and someone he wishes to seek out, if only for answers.

Getting into the castle unseen is easy. He finds a weak spot, sneaks past guards, and into a hidden passageway he had found. He doesn't want them asking questions, he's not fond of talking to folks if he doesn't have to, and it's just better to sneak in.

Now that he's in, though, and eyes land on that familiar sight, his first instinct had been to approach slowly. However, that flies out the window when he notices the other has a blade. Whatever the guard was saying to him doesn't matter.

It is pure instinct that drives him forward to quickly wrap his fingers around that wrist and stop him. When the other turns to him, Link swears he can feel his breath hitch in his throat.

Hero.

As expected, the guy knows him. It's not a surprise, not if his blurry memories are anything to go by. It's more of a relief. Blue eyes are determined, meant to display that he's not going to let him go until he's sure Sheik isn't going to go stabbing people.

"Drop the blade. Let it go. Whatever he said, it's not worth it."

#feel free to reply to this!#i'm excited for them!#guideoftime #link interactions

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fanfic-wonderland · 2 years

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He'll Kill Us Both {Sirius Black}

Pairing: Sirius Black x Gryffindor!Female Reader

Summary: Being James Potter's twin sister is not easy when you're secretly dating his best friend...

Warnings: Mild Language, Smut

______________________________________________________________

The room is pitch black and quiet but (Y/N) has not lost track of the clock hanging on the wall opposite her bed. She tries to wait for it to strike midnight as calmly as possible but a pump of adrenaline is already making its way through her veins and she begins to feel impatient. It is impossible to stay still but the last thing she wants to do is make the wrong move and wake up her dormmates; she certainly does not need an interrogation right now. So far, she's been successful the numerous times she has snuck out of the room without drawing attention, except maybe for that one time when she was almost busted by Filch, but even then she handled it pretty well.

When it is finally time to go, (Y/N) gets out of bed quietly, slipping her shoes on and tiptoeing her way to the mirror. She can barely see her reflection but she tries to work with what she has, and she figures that brushing her hair and putting on a bit of perfume will do the trick. It's nothing too big, she's not going out to a fancy restaurant, but she wants to at least be presentable for whatever outcome she'll get as soon as she steps out the door.

She throws a coat across her shoulders and decides that she's ready to get going. The faster she leaves, the lesser chances she'll have of getting caught by-

"Where are you going?"

Bloody hell.

(Y/N) freezes on her spot. Lily is now sitting up on her bed, holding her weight on her left arm and squinting her sleepy eyes at the doorway. The door remains half open and (Y/N) considers leaving while pretending that she hadn't heard her but, knowing Lily, she wouldn't be surprised if the girl decides to follow her. She turns to the redhead with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Yeah," Lily replies. "What are you doing up so late?"

(Y/N) clears her throat. "I was just about to get something to eat. I can't sleep with an empty stomach."

Lily quirks a brow. "Seriously?"

"Yup."

Lily sighs in defeat while she settles back into her sleeping position. "You know what? I don't know if I believe you but I'm honestly too tired to care right now."

(Y/N) chuckles. "That's okay, just go back to sleep."

When she doesn't hear an answer, she assumes that Lily has fallen back into a deep slumber. (Y/N) lets out a breath unaware that she was holding it, then proceeds to exit the room while trying not to make any more sounds.

She knows the way by heart. She's done this so many times already that she does not need to look twice at which direction she's headed. She loves the quietness of the castle at this hour, and how comfortable she has gotten with the darkness of the halls. She's lucky that most portraits are sleeping and, when they're not, she sneaks past them as easily as spotting Hagrid in a crowd. It wasn't always like that but she's gotten to know them better with time. She learned from the best, after all.

When she arrives at the broom cupboard, It's empty aside from the brooms, mops, and other cleaning supplies. She rolls her eyes. Of course, he's not here yet.

"Am I too late?"

Sirius arrives almost twenty minutes later and finds (Y/N) leaning against the table pressed to the stone wall, reading the label from a gallon that she had found lying around. She looks up quickly and smirks. "Only a little bit."

"Sorry," Sirius locks the door behind him, and (Y/N) puts the item aside as she takes a step forward. "Remus was up late tonight and I had to wait for him to finally put his bloody book down and fall asleep."

(Y/N) laughs. "That's quite alright. We still got time left."

He smiles cheekily at her words and does not waste a second more as he pulls her close, capturing her lips in his as if they were magnets. Both of them sigh almost at the same time, happy to be back in each other's arms after being apart the entirety of the day. Having to pretend that they aren't dating in front of their friends takes a toll on them, even more now when a year has passed.

A full year of stealing glances, passing notes, brushing fingers, and sneaking out of their dorms just so that they can finally spend time with each other. It is exhausting, to say the least, but as soon as they find the embrace and the warmth that they long for during the day they realize that it is all worth it. (Y/N) cups his face when they pull away, staring into his tired yet glowing eyes. She loves staring at him from up close; she can take in every single detail and read every emotion just by the way he looks back at her.

Sirius is still smiling and It's so contagious that she doesn't realize she's doing the same until her cheeks start hurting. "I've missed you." He tells her.

"Have you, really?" (Y/N) questions in a teasing manner. "Just how much?"

"Perhaps I could show you better than I could tell you, don't you think?" His lips go down to her jawline, landing on her neck with a trail of open-mouth kisses. It is easier for him to take in her familiar floral scent this way. How he missed the way it fills his nostrils.

(Y/N) closes her eyes and her entire body shivers at the sensation. He does not give her a chance to speak as he begins to mark her skin with his teeth, gentle but with enough roughness to make a moaning mess out of her. Her arms wrap around his neck and her hands cannot help but grab a fistful of his soft curls. He lets out a low groan that invites her to tug harder at his hair.

When their lips meet again it feels more desperate, like as soon as they touched each other they realized that their time is limited and they have to make the best of it. Sirius backs (Y/N) into the nearby table again, where most of the cleaning supplies are, but when he lifts her up he throws them all to the side with a swift move of his arm. Her legs wrap around his figure and he grabs her waist, softly biting her bottom lip in order to gain another reaction from her. When he hears a gasp escape her lips he smiles to himself, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue past them and coaxing it with her own. Subconsciously, their bodies are grinding against each other, and (Y/N) can already feel his hard-on rubbing against her which makes it even harder for her to contain herself. At this point, however, she does not really care.

Their clothes are scattered on the floor within a minute. It's almost a natural instinct of theirs to do so, even more when they have no time to waste. Only their underwear remains intact until Sirius can't help it anymore and moves one hand down to touch (Y/N) through the soft material of her panties. He can already feel how soaked she is and that just gets him more excited to feel her completely against him, to have her in every way possible.

(Y/N) moans again as his hand sneaks inside her underwear, slowly moving his fingers up and down her core while he stares at her face. Her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back, and he can easily come undone just by the view of her giving in to the pleasure. She gasps his name as his lips find the skin of her neck once more, licking and leaving love bites around because in the heat of the moment he forgets that they have to be cautious about this. She seems to forget as well because she does nothing to stop him.

Sirius finally removes her panties and takes off his boxers, pushing them aside without looking at where they land. His eyes are only focused on (Y/N) because she is the only thing that matters to him right now. The only thing he can do is indulge in her beauty and enjoy it before they both part ways.

He aligns himself with her center, staring into her eyes as if silently asking for permission to go forward. (Y/N)'s too much in a daze to make up words so she just leans in to kiss him as a response, and it doesn't take him much to figure it out. She feels his bare back as she pulls him closer -although it makes barely any difference, they're basically glued together at this point- as he finally enters her. Her vision gets cloudier with every thrust of his hips and stroke of his fingers, and Sirius loves the way she clings to him. His mouth hangs open when the feeling in the pit of his stomach becomes almost unbearably good but he tries not to close his eyes just so that he can see her reach her high.

Their moans blend together as their pace quickens, both of them close to finishing but still savoring the moment as if It'll last for an eternity. When the wave of pleasure finally hits them their breathing gets heavier as they try to come down from it. Both of them are sweaty and sticky but it is no bother after such an intense experience that left them both happy and satisfied. Sirius brushes away a few strains of hair away from (Y/N)'s forehead, taking another long look at her. She looks worn out but is still grinning from ear to ear while staring back at him, his expression almost an exact copy of hers.

Half an hour later, they're back to being fully clothed. The atmosphere changes drastically; where there was once lust and passion in the air there is now a sort of sadness surrounding them as they sit in a corner of the room with their backs against the wall. (Y/N) lays her head on Sirius' shoulder while playing with his fingers. They've been quiet for a while until she breaks the silence. "I wish we didn't have to do this."

Sirius looks down at her and smirks. "Why, was I really that bad?"

(Y/N) smacks his chest playfully while he laughs lightly. "You know I don't mean that," she says, followed by a sigh. "This whole 'sneaking around' thing... I don't want to keep doing it. It's all your fault."

"And how is this my fault?"

"Well, you just had to go and become best friends with my brother." (Y/N) rolls her eyes.

Sirius chuckles. "Well, I wasn't really planning on falling in love with you, either. And besides, you have to admit that James is pretty irresistible."

"Oh?" (Y/N) raises an eyebrow, snuggling closer to her boyfriend. "Is that why you like me, then, because I remind you of him?"

Sirius clicks his tongue and raises his arms in defense. "Guilty."

(Y/N) laughs at him, planting a kiss on his cheek before going back to her original position. Deep down, though, she cannot brush away the hurt when she thinks about how they feel like they can't be public because her overprotective brother would probably murder them both if he finds out.

***

The next morning, (Y/N) covers up the very noticeable hickeys with a spell that she learned from her friend Florence ("It comes in very handy when a boy cannot keep his fangs away. Trust me." she had said one day.). So far, it has been effective, and this time it is no exception as the bruises on her neck and collarbone fade away effortlessly, leaving her skin intact. She smiles to herself, proud of her work, and at the same time, Lily barges into the dorm. "Hey, you ready to go?" she says.

(Y/N) turns to her and grins. "Of course."

"Are you okay?" Lily asks while eyeing the girl with worry. "You look tired."

And she is, she really is. (Y/N) and Sirius spent almost the entire night inside the cupboard, talking and laughing and avoiding being the first one to stand up. Neither of them wanted to leave. "Oh, yeah, I guess I didn't sleep too well last night," (Y/N) checks herself in the mirror, again, and this time she focuses on the bags under her eyes. Weirdly enough, she hadn't noticed them before. "But don't worry about it, I'm fine."

Lily nods hesitatingly and then her gaze drops lower. "Something wrong with your neck?"

(Y/N) panics as she looks down, but her bruises are still gone, luckily. However, her fingers are subconsciously running through the now empty spots and she stops the movement once she realizes it. "Nothing's wrong, Lily. You're being quite the motherly figure today, aren't you?"

Lily stares at her for a few more seconds before chuckling. "I guess I am. Anyway, let's just leave, yeah?"

When the both of them make it downstairs, three out of four Marauders are already in the Common Room. Remus is sitting at a table writing something down and Peter is sitting in an armchair while laughing at something that James just said on the couch in front of the fireplace. None of them notice the girls arriving until Lily clears her throat. The three of them look in their direction at the same time. "Well, hello, ladies," Although he's technically acknowledging both, James smiles directly at Lily. "Had a good night's sleep?"

Both girls nod as they walk toward them. Lily sits down next to James, much to his delight, and (Y/N) takes a seat across from Remus. "I think (Y/N) didn't sleep too well, though." Peter teases, mostly trying to get James' attention.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes but remains quiet. Thankfully, James does too, as he thinks nothing of it. Remus, on the other hand, is studying her face discreetly but before he can say something about it, they hear footsteps coming from the stairs.

All of them turn around at the same time to find the last person remaining so that they can finally make their way to Hogsmeade. "Morning." Sirius' greeting is followed by a yawn. (Y/N)'s heart flutters at the sight of him but she tries to keep her expression neutral. He does not look at her because then It'll be much harder for him to keep his hands off.

"Finally," James groans as Sirius scoots between him and Lily. "What took you so long to get up?"

Sirius rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. "I didn't sleep well last night. If it wasn't because I could really use a Butterbeer right now I would've stayed in bed."

"Is that so?" Remus says, a certain hint of suspicion in his voice that no one but (Y/N) and Lily seem to notice. "So what were you doing last night that's gotten you so tired?"

Sirius's head snaps up and he turns to look at Remus but he accidentally makes eye contact with (Y/N) first before he can stop himself. She drops her gaze and tries to distract herself with the mesmerizing way the flames are swaying in the fireplace. "Come to think of it, I did wake up in the middle of the night and your bed was empty." James rubs his chin.

"I was taking a walk," Sirius answers a bit too quickly. "I couldn't sleep so I snuck out."

(Y/N) suddenly feels two pairs of eyes on her: one is coming from the boy sitting across from her and the other is coming all the way from the redhead sitting on the couch. She does not look at any of them because she has a feeling that they know something they shouldn't. "(Y/N)," Lily speaks up, and (Y/N) almost jumps on her seat at the sound of her name. "I forgot something in the dorm, could you help me look for it?"

Gulping, (Y/N) nods and follows the girl to the stairs.

When they're back at the dorm, Lily turns to face (Y/N) and takes out her wand, pointing it at her. "Revelio," she says quietly. The hickeys on (Y/N)'s neck slowly come into view once again and Lily gasps. "Oh my God, I knew it!"

"I can explain-"

"Oh, stop it," Lily cuts (Y/N) off before engulfing her in a tight hug. When she pulls away, she is beaming. "It's about damn time you guys started dating."

(Y/N) stares at her in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"Are you kidding me?" Lily chortles. "You two have been liking each other since forever, it was so obvious! How long have you guys been...?"

(Y/N) blushes. "Since last year..."

Lily gasps louder. "And you didn't tell me?!"

"We wanted to keep it a secret from everyone because James will kill us if he finds out."

"Oh, please, I'd like to see him try," Lily scoffs while folding her arms across her chest. "He can't keep you guys apart just because he's your brother. In fact, he should be happy that you're dating someone he's close to and not some other random boy he doesn't know."

(Y/N) has a hopeful look on her face. "You think so?"

Lily places a hand on her shoulder. "He has no other choice but to accept this unless he intends on losing you both."

When they both go back down, the three boys are still trying to fish up answers from Sirius; his excuse about not being able to sleep did not work on them as well as he wanted to. James can tell that there is something else that he's not telling them and his first guess is, "Were you with someone, perhaps?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

As Sirius shakes his head, (Y/N) makes her way to the front of the couch. "Yes," she says impulsively. "He was with me."

The room goes silent after she speaks up and she almost begins to regret it. Sirius' eyes are huge, almost like they'll pop out of his face at any moment, Peter's jaw almost reaches the rug beneath their feet, Remus leans back on his chair and watches the scene in amusement, and James is silent. At first, he thinks that she is joking but, as soon as his eyes fall on the marks on her neck, he goes pale. "What the fuck?"

Sirius stands up in a hurry before James can blow up on him. "James-"

"Why were you with my sister, Sirius?" James growls.

Sirius gives him an apologetic look before sighing in defeat. "We've been... kind of dating for a while-"

"Nope," James shakes his head furiously. "Absolutely not. I'm not having this."

"I know you don't want to hear it but..." Sirius walks over to (Y/N) and grabs her hand. A jolt of electricity runs through her but she's not sure if It's because they're finally going public or if It's the adrenaline of doing something like this in front of her brother. "I love your sister. A lot."

James stands up as well while clenching his jaw. "Get your hand off of her-"

"James," Lily calls to him firmly.

He turns around to look at her and she narrows her eyes at him. He huffs. "Lily, I can't allow this. It isn't right."

"Why isn't it right? Because you say so?" she tilts her head questioningly.

James opens his mouth to speak but closes it once he sees (Y/N) scooting closer to his best friend. She is glaring at him but tears are starting to form in her eyes. "I'm not doing anything wrong." She says quietly.

"Come on, James, they're not hurting anyone," Remus adds. "Besides, you're with Lily. Why can't (Y/N) do the same?"

James lets out a long breath before scratching the top of his head in frustration. He knows that there's nothing he can do about this. "And this has been going on for how long now?"

"A year!" Lily blurts out excitedly. Sirius and (Y/N) look at each other and he raises an eyebrow at her. She smiles innocently.

"Bloody hell," Remus chuckles. "And we never noticed."

James sits back down. "Tell me about it. I feel like an idiot right now."

(Y/N) approaches her brother. "I'm really sorry for not telling you sooner. I knew you wouldn't be too excited about it."

James sighs for the longest time. He's quiet for a moment before he says, "It's okay, I guess. Just... as long as you guys keep the PDA to a minimum in front of me then... I guess It's fine."

He mutters the last part very quietly but (Y/N) still hears him. "Really?" she beams.

James rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Lily squeals in the background as (Y/N) hugs her brother tight, thanking him more than once because she still cannot believe that he (and everyone else) knows about the relationship now. It feels like a large weight has finally been lifted off of her shoulders.

(Y/N) then turns to Sirius, who still seems to be processing everything that just happened, and she hugs him as well. When she looks up at him with the biggest smile he has ever seen on her, Sirius cannot help but grab her face and kiss her like he always does when they're alone. Only this time it feels different, because he knows that they do not have to hide anything anymore and he can kiss her and hug her and hold her hand whenever he feels like it.

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY?"

They pull away immediately. "Sorry, mate," Sirius clears his throat, both of them trying to keep a stern face. "Anyway, Butterbeer?"

All of them agree at the same time. They make their way to the exit; Remus and Peter walk out first –"Guess It's just you and me buddy." Remus says while patting Peter's back-, then James and Lily, and then (Y/N) and Sirius. He wastes no time in interlocking his fingers with hers and they smile to themselves, almost like they're too shy to look at each other.

It feels like a new beginning for both of them.

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.”

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing.

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man.

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding.

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner.

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip.

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

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