#guess who stayed up and drew this instead of going to bed :)! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

surielstea · 3 months

Text

Caretaker

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Reader is sick & Az being the best bf ever

Warnings: slight suggestiveness, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Literally wrote this when I was sick asf and high on cough medicine so I hope this makes sense 😭😭

2.2k words

My body tremors as another weak cough racks through me, my throat pulsing at the feeling. Watery eyes form tears, sliding down the bridge of my nose and dripping onto the plush pillow beneath my head.

I stare out the floor to ceiling window, marveling at the way the sidra morphs starlight into rainbow refractions. I sniffle, one of my nostrils completely closed off and making it a challenge to breathe. It was late. I didn't know the exact time but from the moons position in the sky I could guess it was far past midnight.

My mate hadn't come to bed and I debated clambering out of this all too hot bed to go and find him, wrap my arms around his waist and guide him back to our bed. But I can't expose him to whatever virus plagued me, in turn getting him sick, no matter how badly I missed his touch. It was already a risk to share the same bed, I couldn't push it.

Madja stopped by earlier and gave me a tonic to help ward off the cough but there was nothing she could do beyond that. I took the tonic minutes ago, the effects still settling in, I just hoped the cough would cease long enough for me to be able to fall asleep.

It's been days, my mate was convinced I was getting worse. He surveyed me like usual, but his gaze turned soft and pitiful every time a raucous cough came over me. Shadows kept me company, swirling fluidly against my back in a reassuring manner, the chill touch of them making me cool off from my heated state.

There was a soft knock at the door and I didn't have to look to know who it was. I adjusted under the covers, using my strength to sit up and lean against the headboard, teary eyed but making eye contact with the large winged male in the doorway. "Az." My voice was practically a whimper, a feeble excuse at calling for him.

"My love," He drew a long exhale, my sickness seemingly weighing on him as well.

"You can't be in here." I murmur, wiping my tears and wishing it was his hands instead of mine doing the act.

"I miss you." He offers me a soft smile as he tilts his head against the frame of the door, his silhouette from the hallway light made him look like some sort of angel.

"I don't want to get you sick." I shake my head, holding my arm out as if to shield him away but we both knew I held no power at the moment.

"It wouldn't be so bad," He tries to lighten the mood with a shrug. "I'd be off work, we could quarantine together. We'd read and cuddle and I could actually go within a ten feet radius of you." His words were convincing, and the idea has a smile tugging at my lips. That is until a croak of a cough rattles my body and I remember how irritating this illness is. I wouldn't want him to have this, ten foot radius or not.

"It's hard enough to stay away from you, don't tempt me." I sigh, allowing my bones to sink into the large matress.

"Worth a try." He mirrors my smile. "Do you need anything? Tea or soup?" He asks and I twist my lips to the side as I ponder what he could give me that would ever amount to how badly I want him and him alone. "A good book perhaps?" He arches a perfect brow. It pains me how well he knows me.

"A book would be nice." I hum and he pushes from the doorway, excited to accomplish a new task. His gaze lingers on me before he closes the door and his silent footsteps recede down the hall.

I look back out the window while I wait, fiddling with the mating ring around my fourth finger. My cough seemed to have settled, I'll have to tell my brother to increase Madja's salary for her admirable work — or maybe I'd pay her directly myself. As soon as I'm better I will, whenever that might be. I release a long sigh and allow my eyes to shut for a moment, I must've slept for half the day earlier but that didn't stop the rest from weighing at my heavy lids.

Before I dared slip into a sleep the spymaster opened the door with a multitude of items in his hands. I couldn't help but smile. The night courts intimidating Shadowsinger was at my door, with soup and tea and a book, taking care of me. He had one of the world's deadliest knife's at his thigh and he probably used it to cut open my tea bag.

"Az, I'm gonna cry." I warn. My already watery eyes verging on tears as I think about how much he does for me.

"No don't cry." His brows crease as he sits on his side of our bed, placing a bowl of soup down on my nightstand. "I tried to follow your mom's recipe but it won't be as good." He frowns and there's nothing more I want to do then kiss the pout off his perfect face. "And this is hot, so don't drink it for a few minutes." He places a steaming cup of tea beside the soup. "And this," He holds up a worn paper back book. "I went to Nesta and asked her for the best romance novel she could think of and she gave me this so." He places it on my lap. "Hopefully it's as smutty as you hope." He mutters beneath his breath and I flush hot but blamed it on my fever.

"Thank you." My voice was a rasp, he looked to my eyes. Hazel laced with love and admiration, the emotions reflecting on the golds and greens of his irises.

"Get some rest after eating, you have to get your strength up so I can get my sparring buddy back." He placed a hand on my forehead to check my temperature, something on his expression falls when he doesn't notice any difference from the last time he checked my temperature.

"Is Cassian not good enough anymore?" I scoff.

"He's not you." He huffs and an upside down smile spreads over my expression.

"I know you're sick but I really want to kiss you." He admits and just the idea makes me feel warmer inside. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him into me, his upper half hovering over me as I plant my lips onto his. I grin against the sensation, it's only been a few days but gods, how did I forget how perfect it felt to have his mouth against mine?

He pulls back first and I debate chasing him back but he pecks my forehead and I settle for it, leaning back onto my headboard yet again. "I'm going to finish up an assignment then I'll come to bed, okay?" He gets up from the bed and my eyes follow.

"Mhm." I nod tiredly.

"If I find you reading that book when I get back I'm taking it away." He warns and I bite my bottom lip mischievously.

"Goodnight lovely." A shadow tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as I watch him make his way to the door.

"Night Az." I muse in reply, already reaching for my bowl of the nostalgic meal.

—

About an hour later I had finished my entire bowl of soup and cup of tea. Both of them reminding me of my mother humming her favorite songs as she sewed her dresses, of Rhys teaching me how to fly before I could even walk, of Cassian brawling with my brother when he first moved in, and of Azriel's warm embrace.

I was curled into a ball with a mage light over my head, flipping through the pages of the romance novel Nesta lent me. It was a fantasy with just the right amount of erotica, the kind that would make any female flush. There were a few times when I'd have to close the book and take a breather before opening it back up, which meant it was perfection.

The door opened with a creak and I slammed the book shut the way a teenage boy might with a nude magazine. Azriel crinkles his brows at me and I look at him guiltlessly. "Evening handsome." I greet and he blinks at me like I'm crazy.

"Why are you being weird?" He utters, coming further into the room and closing the door behind him. I fold my lips inward to keep myself from laughing or possibly exposing that I was reading absolute filth just moments ago.

"Just reading." I shrug innocently and he narrowed his gaze in on me but seemed to let it go when striding over to the armoire to change. I watched him shamelessly as he stripped off his shirt, golden tan skin inked in swirling black. He shuffles through the drawers, giving me a full show of his muscular back and those large wings. My breath hitched as I stare without caution and a small chuckle sounds from him. He knows I'm watching, and at this point I can't find it in myself to care.

"Are you flexing on purpose?" I ask him as he discards his leathers for a pair of lounge pants.

"I'm not flexing love." He confesses and my stomach does backflips. Cords of muscle rippled from his shoulders down to his bulging arms, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little turned on. And he was just standing there. He turns to look at my tinged cheeks and it only makes me blush more. The eye contact just might kill me. The nonchalance and causality of it made my stomach churn, as if he wasn't standing there in front of me shirtless.

"You're teasing." I set my book on the nightstand and sink down into my pillows.

"How so?" His question is half a laugh because he knows what he's doing.

"I can't have you right now." I whine like some sort of child, pulling the blankets up and over my head so I don't have to look at his chest that seemed to be sculpted by the gods themselves. The bed sinks and I know he's now beside me. I can't help but gravitate towards him only to stop myself because I know cuddling would get him sick.

His strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls my back to his chest.

"No, Az I don't want to get you sick." I protest, pulling away with the weakest strength since the predicament at hand wasn't all too bad.

"I already told you I don't care if I get sick." He brings me in closer and who was I to deny my mate's embrace?

It was nice to lay beside him, nice to have his warmth radiating onto me. I missed him even if it's only been a few days, even if he still sleeps beside me every night. I missed the physicality of it. Azriel's never been one for touch but sometimes I go through phases where if I don't have my hands constantly on him I'd collapse.

So I allowed myself to lean into his chest, matching my breathing to his and intertwining my hand with his scarred one. "I love you." He hums into my shoulder, placing gentle kisses to the crook of my neck and a soft smile spreads across my lips.

"Would you still love me if—" I begin but he doesn't let me finish,

"Yes." His tone is confident and didn't waver for a beat.

"You don't even know what I was going to say." I pout and I feel him shake his head against me.

"As long as you're still you, I love you." He professes and I flip around to look at his golden eyes that the stars themselves were outmatched against.

"I love you too." My voice is a mere whisper but a wide grin takes over his face, revealing his dimples. His smile was so bright I thought for a moment that sun wouldn't rise in fear of rivaling it. "And I'm totally getting you sick." I threaten but he doesn't seem to mind, especially not when I lean forward a few inches in order to kiss that grin.

"Sleep, love." He coerced and pulls me into his chest, his wing draping over me like a blanket, blocking out any seeping light from the moon outside. "I'll be here in the morning." He muses, smoothing a scarred hand over my hair. He continues to play with the strands until I'm drifting off into that touch, his warmth inviting me to sleep.

Azriel was quick to follow, once he noticed my breathing even out. Shadows settle around us as his lids grow heavy and his weight falls into the bed. With me in his arms it was easier for him to sleep, the comfort of knowing I'm safe while in his hold pushed him further into that sweet relief of rest.

#azriel #sarah j maas #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #x reader #acomaf #fanfic #comfort fic #sickfic #im so lonely #i need him #suriels tea

271 notes · View notes

gunnerfc · 5 months

Text

🎄WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 20 - Steph Catley🎄

Steph Catley x Reader (Arsenal & Matildas) | WC: 717

Dec. 20 prompt - secret santa

-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!

The idea of a team secret santa was fun, you all knew each other very well and were very confident that you’d each have the best gift. However, you were a bit surprised when you drew Steph’s name. Of course, you would pull your fiancée’s name instead of a teammate’s.

As you went to say something about your pull, Leah was quick to shut you down saying “No one is allowed to switch, because at least two people would know who the other got.” She had her captain voice on when she said but all you could do was playfully roll your eyes at her statement, finding her seriousness on the exchange funny.

Steph had pulled Beth, which seemed like the best person for her to pull aside from you considering how close they were. The Aussie had found two gifts for the forward that fit within the limit set pretty quickly. You on the other hand weren’t sure what to get your girlfriend that wouldn’t give away who it was from or one of her actual Christmas presents that you had already gotten.

Ever since you drew names Steph had been trying to get you to spill whose name you had gotten but each time her pleas were met with a shake of your head and a kiss to her lips, telling her to "be patient.”

“You could give me a hint and maybe I could help you, baby.” your fiancée sleepily stated as you lay in bed, ready for sleep to take over. Once again trying to get you to tell her who you picked.

“You heard Leah, babe. No telling,” you whispered to her, feeling her lightly laugh against your chest.

Steph was the first to fall asleep, having a harder training session than you did earlier in the day. As you lay in bed, an idea pops into your head. Would it technically go against Leah’s rule? Yes, but you didn’t care. You saw your idea as a way to one-up Steph in a small argument you were having.

A week later the team is gathered in Leah’s living room, ready to start opening presents. The team went back and forth debating whether people should go one by one or if everyone should open gifts at the same. The argument lasted two minutes before Kim used her ‘captain voice’ to vote in favor of going one by one.

After each person opened their gifts, everyone tried to guess who their secret santa was but no one had gotten their guess right. Not until it was Steph’s turn to open hers.

You watched your Aussie girlfriend open the box containing an Arsenal shirt, confusion clouded her eyes as she turned the shirt over. You laughed quietly to yourself as you watched her eyes scan down the back, seeing “Y/L/N 7” printed in white font.

“The whole point of a secret santa is that it's a secret, Y/N,” Leah groaned, having seen the words printed on the back of the kit.

You laughed before responding with “then maybe you should have let me switch when I tried to ask, Williamson.”

You figured the Arsenal kit with your last name was fitting since you and Steph had been playfully debating who was going to take whose last name once you were finally married.

Steph turned to face you, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek before making a joke about how you needed to get a shirt with your number and her last name on it now. You rolled your eyes at her comment, but you knew she was serious about getting you one.

Once you returned home, Steph changed into her new Arsenal kit. You watched your fiancée change, seeing her in a kit with your last name doing something to you.

“You look hot wearing my name, baby,” you smirked, Steph rolling her eyes at your suggestive tone. The Aussie joined you in bed, her lips meeting yours in a heated kiss, the first of many that night.

Steph’s new jersey didn’t stay on long that night and while you still hadn’t decided on whose last name would be your shared last name, the defender wasn’t complaining about how you reacted to seeing her donning a “Y/L/N” shirt.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #steph catley x reader #steph catley #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader

195 notes · View notes

dreaming-of-mossballs · 1 month

Text

Porridge for— you guessed it— A Bashful Captain (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After hearing the shocking news that Gepard is sick, Serval entrusts you with the task of making sure he doesn’t burn himself out while no one is watching. Good luck with that.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: I’ve been struggling to get my posts to show in the tags, so let me know if you want to be taglisted! It’s really demotivating seeing my work get demolished by the algorithm.

MASTERLIST

How nice it was to have a moment of respite after a long and arduous campaign.

At least, that’s what the captain wished he could say.

Every muscle in his body seemed to be screaming at him to stay in bed after he woke up that morning. His throat felt like it had been scraped with steel wool and then some. Plus, his body felt chilled, even after piling far more than the usual number of blankets on his bed.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Serval had said. Aeons, she was right.

Gepard vaguely registered the fact that this combination of symptoms spelled disaster, but nevertheless, he had to get up. He drew in a deep breath in an attempt to gather the strength to hoist himself out of bed, but the air seemed to have invisible barbed wire that scoured his already painful lungs. He broke into a hacking cough that echoed throughout the estate and immediately sat up to cover his mouth with his elbow.

A knock on the door drew him out of his misgivings.

“Young master Gepard?” A concerned voice— which belonged to one of the maids— called.

Although the captain felt like his stomach was churning like butter, he shifted the blankets aside and treaded towards the door. Even the estate felt dreary that morning as the sunlight reaching through the window was weak and scattered (Due to a thick cloud covering, indicating an impending snowstorm.) The expensive plush carpet on the floor of the room did little to ease his newfound dislike of standing upright.

How silly he felt, a man who trudged through waist-deep snow on the daily, was now reduced to a sniveling mess in his family home. Gepard, still rubbing his nose, opened the wooden door slightly.

The shock on the maid’s face was evident as she caught her first glimpse of him. He really did look worse for wear, his golden hair was unkempt, his complexion was pale, and he had to lean on the doorframe to keep the room from swaying and bending inwards and—

“Um— young master. I heard you coughing,” she blurted out, eyeing his drooping eyelids. “Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water?”

Gepard raised his voice to respond but instead let out a ghastly wheeze followed by coughing that sounded like thunder. He turned his head away so as not to catch her in the blast.

“Y-yes, please,” He resumed looking at her. “That would be much appreciated,”

His voice was uncomfortably hoarse. She glanced up at him. “Would you like it with lemon or without?”

The young man didn’t get a chance to respond. His calloused hand slid down the doorframe, his vision went fuzzy—

—and then everything went dark.

The maid’s shriek echoed off the walls, causing the sparrows that perched on the windowsills to take to the sky.

Her voice turned heads, both maids and butlers alike, all throughout the manor.

(It is said that they still speak about it to this day, much to her chagrin.)

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You were convinced that work was going to give you a heart attack.

With the Solwarm festival upcoming, flower sales practically exploded. Your job as a florist was a source of many joys, but even you had your limits. Your hands were permanently stained with a mix of red and orange from all the Solarflowers you’d been handling. It looked like brilliant flames adorned your arms, but it lost its novelty after you realized you couldn’t wash it off, even with industrial strength soap.

And you had a catch-up with Gepard in three days. Just great.

He’d sent the invitation through a surprise letter a week before he came home. He said he’d be busy for a bit with mission debriefings and yada yada, but he’d like to meet at Serval’s for lunch once he got the chance.

Couldn’t he have just texted me? You snorted when you opened it. Those nobles. (You betted that he’d never gone on a date that was anything other than a fancy matchmaking dinner.)

But then you realized that was dumber than dumb. He wasn’t allowed to have his cell phone on military expeditions. You nearly smacked yourself with the first edition copy of the Gardener’s Almanac in shame.

You cast a mournful, longing glance through the paned glass windows and out at Qlipoth fort. Of course Gepard had ten thousand meetings to attend to after getting home.

A pang of pity reverberated throughout your chest. Didn’t he at least deserve a short break? He was like a herding dog that never got a day off.

You looked up from where your head was resting on the counter, feeling the warmth of a Solarflower bouquet spread across your face almost like a blush. Handing the customer’s change across the counter whilst simultaneously stifling a heartbroken sigh wasn’t much, but it was one of the hardest things you’d done all day.

I am so. Friggin. Tired. You groaned. The overcast weather was really getting to your mood.

A clatter came from the back, which caused you to prick your ears.

“Hey, (Y/N)? The plumbing in the upstairs sink broke. We’re missing the right kind of wrench. Would you mind going out and grabbing it?” Meg spoke.

“Sure,” you perked your eyebrows, eager to escape your thoughts for a split second. “What kind is it?”

Your boss handed you a paper with the details, and you swung your florist’s bag over your shoulder with newfound gusto. A trip to Serval’s workshop was exactly what you needed.

The breeze outside the shop was stagnant. It made you shudder. You couldn’t control the weather, but you could sure as hell skip to the shop to spite the bad hand you’d been dealt recently.

The bronze shop bell dinged to announce your entry. And Serval, the owner of the Neverwinter Workshop, was fast asleep on a pile of papers.

That can’t be comfortable,

“Hey, Serv—,”

She shot up from her desk faster than you could blink.

“Welcome to Neverwinter Workshop! What can I— Oh! (Y/N)! Sorry about that, I just uh… dozed off for a bit,”

You chuckled. “Not a problem. I just came by for an 18x18mm wrench. Would you happen to have one of those?”

Molly, the assistant, peeked her head in from the back. “Only a few hundred of them,”

You stared back, flabbergasted. “Why so many?”

“Miss Serval put an extra zero on the order form,” she said with a shrug.

Serval looked at you sheepishly, her blue eyes filled to the brim with embarrassment. You shot her a glance loaded with concern.

“Have you been getting enough rest?” You inquired.

“Yeah, totally! Well… The band and I have been pretty busy with rehearsal lately. Y’know, with the Solwarm festival coming up and all—,” She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “—anyways, the person who’s case you should REALLY be on is Gepard’s,”

You lifted an eyebrow at her attempt to deflect the blame. “Yeah? And why is that?”

She paused, not paying you the slightest crumb of attention before she let out an planet-shaking yawn.

“Huh? Oh, he’s sick. Real nasty case. He got it from Pela,”

“Jeez. Seriously?” You exclaimed. “That sucks. I hope he gets better soon,”

She blinked slowly and tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We do too. He actually passed out this morning,”

Your eyes went wide.

“He WHAT???”

“Ah, well, he passed—,”

“Nope, nope, nope. I got it,” you said, rubbing your temples while staring at the floor. “Holy crap. It must be really bad then. Did he have to go to the hospital?”

Serval shook her head. “Nope, thank Qlipoth. Lynx has had to crash here so she doesn’t catch it,”

You glanced around the workshop. “She has? Where is she?”

Your friend pointed at a stack of cardboard boxes stacked beside a shelf.

“Right there,”

And clear as day, you spotted the white tufts of fur from Lynx’s hat sticking out of her sleeping bag.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Okay… So, let me get this straight. Gepard returned home and promptly passed out,” You gripped the edge of the reception desk so hard you thought it might splinter. “Is anyone keeping him from going to the meetings or… anything?”

“Well, yeah. He knows well enough not to spread his sickness around. What I can’t say for sure though is that he’s not forcing himself to do paperwork… and stuff,” Serval hummed to herself, sorting through another stack of papers that had been rearranged from her catnap.

You let out a withering sigh. “Someone’s gotta stop him,”

Picking up your phone, you hurriedly dialed his number. After far too many seconds, you flopped helplessly onto the desk. No answer.

“Ugh. Can’t we like… call Dunn or the household or something?” You said weakly.

“I thiiink you may be blowing this one out of proportion,” she grinned, showing her pointy canines. “Why don’t you stop by if you miss him so much? You can knock some sense into him or whatever,”

She smirked as she saw embarrassment seep into your face.

Aha! So you DO miss him,

“Yeah, if warp trotters fly, maybe,” you tried to hide your expression by running a palm over your face. “I can’t just show up unannounced,”

“You sure can! I do it all the time,” she said cheerfully. “Usually when the man of the house isn’t there, though,” A look of distaste flashed in her eyes.

“The head butler has a good memory. He should remember you. Say I sent you—,” she perked up. “Oh! Here, I’ll write you a note,”

The blonde-haired woman yanked open a wooden drawer with an ear-piercing screech and lifted a notepad and pen out from its confines. She scrawled something out quickly.

“This should do,”

You squinted at the note skeptically.

I hereby authorize (Y/N), a friend of Gepard’s, to check up on him and make sure he isn’t working himself to death,

Signed,

Serval

[A strange doodle of a smiling face holding up a peace sign]

“Now go!” She shouted, practically pushing you out the door. “Go, go, go! You got this!”

“What—? Serval, I can’t—,”

“Yes you can! Call me if they don’t let you in. Rock on!”

She dropped you unceremoniously on the stone steps outside and slammed the door.

“Cheers!” Her muffled voice called.

I really should become a matchmaker, she snickered to herself.

You looked at the note once more and wilted.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Gepard’s residence was… exactly the same all the other times you had gone, maids and all.

It was still plenty overwhelming though. You brushed the wrinkles out of your tunic as you waited for someone to answer the door. It wasted no time swinging open with a force that could’ve flattened someone, had they been standing behind it.

You nearly squawked in fear. Didn’t these people know how to open a door normally?

While gripping your messenger bag, filled with a few things you had brought from home, you requested entry from the broad-shouldered man that answered. You had no trouble keeping your voice steady but your chest felt like it was being crushed under a metal boot as you faced him.

“Ah, yes. Anything for a friend of the young master!” The butler smiled warmly at you. He didn’t show any sign that he had picked up on your nervousness. Hah, you didn’t think you’d ever get over all these pairs of eyes on you each time you came.

But wait— a friend? Hadn’t you told them each and every visit that you were a gardener he hired?

You bit the edge of your lip but kept your mouth shut.

He motioned you inside. “He’s been resting. Please, let us walk you up!”

You kept your eyes trained on the velvet carpet draped on the stairs as you followed him up. The floorboards squeaked softly under your soles.

When you got upstairs, the curly-haired man stopped in front of a particular door. “Just go on in,” he instructed.

You thanked him and rapped on the door lightly.

“Gepard?”

He looked up from his paperwork hurriedly from where it was bent over the desk to the source of your voice.

“It’s me. Serval sent me over to check if you were doing alright,” you said, leaning your head closer to the wood.

Gepard’s brows knitted together.

If she really wanted to, she could have busted my door down like last time.

He switched off the lamp and got out of his chair.

You heard a croak that sounded like “coming” and winced away from the door. Eek. He must be in really bad shape.

The door opened, causing a breeze to hit your face. After not seeing his face for a month, this wasn’t how you expected your first meeting to go.

By Qlipoth’s grace—, you clapped your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from saying it out loud.

Gepard’s hair was messy and his cheeks were crimson. Locks of his golden hair covered his eyes, which were puffy and red. Better yet, he was wearing a matching set of blue and white striped pajamas. You nearly gawked. At least he wasn’t wearing his uniform if he wasn’t working.

He took in a quick breath to greet you but a harsh bout of coughing cut him off. Turning away from the door, he hacked into his elbow and tried to shut it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you wedged your buckled boot into the space between the door and the frame. That swift action shocked him out of his coughing fit.

“A-apologies, I wasn’t expecting a visit. Please step away before I give you my illness,”

“Oh! That’s why you shut the door,” Your mouth went wide. “I thought you knew the real reason why I came!”

His eyes went wide as you used your forearm to force the door open wider, a vaguely threatening gesture.

What real reason?

“Forget what I just said,” you grinned while sauntering into the room. “Anyways, my immune system is great! I used to eat dirt when food was scarce in the Underworld. It’ll take a lot more than a cold to kill me,”

“Oh my. Is— is that so?” Gepard cleared his throat, forming a fist over his mouth. He followed a few steps behind you as you went about the room.

“Yessir. I came to say hi! Nothing more. Definitely not,” You chirped, looking around his quarters (not at all suspiciously, by the way.) “How are you feeling?”

Wait, didn’t you say Serval—?

He didn’t get to finish that thought.

“Well— all right, I suppose. A little lightheaded and feverish,” his eyes trailed your form moving about. “I took some medicine earlier, and my condition has improved some. Nothing a little rest won’t fix,”

You nodded, not sparing him a glance. “Yes. Rest. Glad to see we’re on the same page here, Gepard. Hey— you moved your bamboo plant in here!” You spotted a joyful little green plant in a pot on top of his desk.

He gave you a puzzled look. Your behavior was…strange, to say the least.

“Ah, yes. I moved it because—,”

—it reminded me of you, he narrowly stopped himself from saying.

“—I read that bamboo didn’t need as much light as I was giving it, so, I figured it would be fine if I transferred it,”

You bent your knees a little to take a closer look at it. “I see. The soil looks nice. Mind if I turn on the light to take a closer look?”

“Be my guest,”

You rotated the little key that controlled the lamplight. It flicked on, spreading a warm glow onto the books and papers on the desk. A glint reflected off a dollop of ink resting on a half-written paper.

You froze. That ink is fresh.

Bristling indignantly, you whisked your head towards him. He picked up the change in mood immediately and blanched.

“I thought you said you’d been resting,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I have,” He paused, confused. “Well—,”

“AHA!” You shouted. “I gotcha! This ink is fresh, Captain. Don’t think you can fool me,” You said triumphantly, placing your hands on your hips.

“Serval— she did send you, didn’t she?!” He sputtered. The usual stoic captain was nowhere to be seen as he rubbed the back of his neck in shame.

“Yes. She did. But also I would’ve come either way to make sure you weren’t wearing yourself out,” you snorted playfully. “She said it was highly likely you were doing paperwork. And paperwork IS. NOT. REST.” You shook a finger at him accusingly.

Gepard flinched slightly. “I’m not exerting myself physically, so there’s no need to worry, (Y/N). Really,”

The air around you seemed to grow dark. You cracked your knuckles, staring him straight in the face.

“Sit down. Now,”

He obliged, choosing to plunk down on his bed.

“I know it feels like you’re wasting time doing nothing, but your mind needs to recover too,” you shook your head disapprovingly while giving him an exaggerated sigh. “You should know that,”

You pulled up a chair in front of him and took a seat, facing the window so he was looking at your side profile.

“I don’t care if you’re the most capable man on Jarilo-VI—,”

—and it was pretty likely that he was,

“You need time to rest, just like everyone else,” you lectured, opening one eye to peer at him teasingly.

“Right,” Gepard replied, defeated. He had nothing against you.

“Did you even wear the scarf I gave you out there?”

“I did, but I didn’t want to dirty it,” he replied. You gave him a snort, which quickly turned into laughter.

“Aww. That’s thoughtful of you,” you flashed him a smile. “I made it knowing I might have to make you another one though. Or three. Just let me know if it gets too damaged to wear, okay?”

Gepard looked down at his striped pajama pants, a small smile crossing his features. “Thank you. I appreciate it,”

His chest almost hurt with all the things he wanted to say trying to fight their way out.

“No problem. If anything, you deserve it,” you sang. “On the other hand, have you eaten anything today?”

“I haven’t,” he rested his head on his chin. “I don’t seem to have an appetite, unfortunately,”

“I see. You should get something in ya though. Natasha told me your body could use the energy,” you stated knowledgeably.

He tried in vain to stamp down the feelings in his chest that sprouted from seeing your concerned expression.

For him. You cared about him.

Aeons, he didn’t deserve this.

“You can ask the cooks to make you some porridge or something,” you suggested. “I have some instant stuff, but it might not be to your liking,”

“I’m sure yours will be fine,” he rebutted quickly. “I’d be happy to eat it,”

You looked at him disbelievingly. I’ve never seen someone so determined to eat instant porridge,

His face stayed just how it was, his eyebrows weighing heavily on his eyes, just like twin anvils.

“Yeah, ok,” you let up. “Do you have a kettle or anything close by?”

“I believe there is one in the kitchen that they use for tea. You can ask the maids to retrieve it for you,” he motioned to the left.

You shook your head and got up. What use was it to call a maid for a trip that merely entailed going up and down the stairs? (Well, there were a stupid number of stairs, but that’s a whole other issue).

Kettle, bowl, spoon, and cloth napkin in hand, you bolted back upstairs to your patient. You plugged the kettle in and set it down on a towel so the heat didn’t damage the furniture.

Tapping your feet while you waited for the kettle to boil, you took a quick glance around the room. It told you a lot you needed to know about Gepard.

Firstly, he was relatively neat. Of course the areas of high traffic, like the bookshelves and the desk, were messier, but they hadn’t more than a few specks of dust on them. His uniform was hanging off of a dark oak armoire, and his military medals were pinned on a cork board attached to its door.

Secondly, there were quite a few pictures hanging on the walls. There were a few of him at awards ceremonies, at various ages. And one of him as a cadet— and wow— he was pretty short back then. He stood almost a whole head shorter than the other guards. You almost squealed with delight.

You turned back to him, noticing his eyes were glued to where you were staring. Oops.

You hurriedly apologized for staring so conspicuously at the photographs, but he shook his head at the statement. Photos were meant to be looked at, after all.

This quickly led to a slew of questions he wasn’t expecting, such as “How old were you when you joined the Guards?” And “Did Serval ever threaten to bench press you?”.

He almost laughed at that one. Probably. His nose wrinkled a little. Or whatever. You figured he’d finally laugh for real once the moons collided with Jarilo-VI.

The kettle began to whistle.

“Ah, water’s boiling,” you said, turning towards the outlet where it was plugged in.

Gepard had since settled down in bed, pulling the covers over his waist. You poured the piping hot water into the bowl carefully, the steam forming curls in the air, and covered it with a lid.

After a few minutes had passed, you set the bowl on a library book from your bag (Eek. Bad idea.) as a makeshift tray and stuck a spoon in it.

“Voilà. Enjoy!” You flung your arms in the air ostentatiously as he looked onward.

Gepard took a spoonful and blew on it gingerly. You watched him with an expectant look on your face. Although whether you were expecting something good or bad, you didn’t quite know.

He lifted it to his mouth and you zeroed in on him even harder.

“It’s delicious,” he said with conviction, meeting your eyes. You squinted at him.

“Um. Gepard, I think the fever is messing with your brain. Are you sure you can taste right now?”

“I’m sure,” he responded.

“No way!” You exclaimed, slapping your forehead. “Let me try— actually, wait. That’s a bad idea,” you sighed. “I’ll just have to believe you,”

The captain nodded affirmatively. He brought another spoonful up to his mouth and relished it, feeling the warmth spread across his tongue. You swore as you watched him savor it contentedly that you’d buy some on your way home to try for yourself.

While Gepard polished off the contents of his bowl, you yammered on about various events that had happened in Belobog while he was away. You had been saving them for when you got together for real, but you figured now was just as good a time as any.

Once he had finished, he rested the spoon on the side of the ceramic bowl.

“Thank you for coming to visit me, (Y/N),” he said gently.

“Someone had to,” you laughed while kicking your feet up. “When I heard you’d been bumbling about all day, I nearly had a heart attack!”

He ran a palm over his face, closing his blue eyes. “Yes— and I’m sorry for that,”

“I didn’t want to believe her, but you guys both have a tendency to push yourself way too hard, you know?”

“By her, you mean Serval?”

You pursed your lips at him.

“That’s how the Landaus are,” he exhaled heavily, letting out a small cough he quickly covered. “It’s… our duty to bring glory to our name, after all,”

You folded your arms. “Maybe by fighting valiantly or repairing automatons, but crawling through paperwork?? I don’t think so. Secretaries that want to help you are a dime a dozen. It’s a lot easier than risking your life in the Snow Plains,” you chortled.

“You’ve probably filled your glory quota for the next two centuries, Gepard,” you glowed. “Bronya and Pela know just how hard you work. You can always ask for help,”

Gepard sighed again. (He did that a lot.) You made a good point.

“I’m sure I’ll recover in no time, thanks to all of you,” he said sincerely. You imitated the sound of an explosion while opening your fist.

“Boom. Magic porridge,”

To your surprise, this elicited a short chuff from Gepard; This caused your breath to get lost somewhere in your throat.

It felt strange seeing him so unguarded in his bedroom with his hair unkempt, in contrast to the well-polished emblem of strength shown on the recruitment posters everywhere in the Administrative District.

You folded your hands over your lap contentedly, silently thanking Serval for clueing you in today. Out of the blue, Gepard spoke up.

“When I recover, would you like to go to the Belobog History and Culture Museum with me?”

That startled you. “Really? I have been wanting to go,” you gnawed on your thumbnail hesitantly. “But are you sure? With all the stuff you have on your plate?”

“Positively,” he replied, his blue eyes capturing all of your attention. You quickly averted your eyes before your circuits overheated. “Volunteers can bring in one guest for free. I… know we haven’t had too many chances to spend time together because we’re both busy, but I figured I’d make an offer anyhow,”

You didn’t catch the last half of that sentence over the sound of a train whistling in your ears.

This should be illegal.

Is he even hearing himself right now?? To— to spend time together?? If I wasn’t super-duper ultra perceptive, I’d think he—,

You clamped your hands on your cheeks (internally, of course) to still yourself, while the rest of you stared straight ahead.

Oh dear,

“Sure!” You blurted out, stiff as a statue.

Smooth, (Y/N).

Fortunately for you, an alert from your phone jostled you out of your internal minefield. You flipped it open while trying to expel far too many thoughts from your mind at once.

It was Serval. You popped into your messages app to see what she had sent— and in true Serval fashion— she had sent the most mind-boggling, disorienting message possible.

From: Serval at 13:44

S: how’s he doing? did u get there alright?

S: ahh you’re probably busy.

S: tuck him in for me, will u?

You nearly spit out your drink. Gepard blinked at you.

You— you can’t just SAY something like that, you cried internally. Not when my feelings are all messed up! I should get out of here before this gets any worse,

“Is something the matter?”

You sighed, long and heavy. “There’s always something, isn’t there?”

He made no move to make any inquiries.

“Anywho, I guess I should take my leave now,” you spoke, reaching down to pick up your messenger bag off the floor and rising from your seat. “before I keep you up any longer. Take it easy, okay?”

“Ah— yes,” he replied, not letting the disappointment leak into his voice. He wondered about the sudden change in mood, but he didn’t want to pry if it would cause you discomfort.

“I’ll… keep that in mind,”

You smiled warmly at him.

“Good,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Even though you had left with the reasoning that you didn’t want to keep him awake, Gepard was anything but tired.

His strict internal clock as a soldier was probably to blame. A sigh echoed throughout the room. It was way too quiet now. And the velvet curtains absorbed any sound too weak to escape them.

He had to do something to keep his mind active. Maybe reading, perhaps? But the only books he had on his bookshelf were on war strategy and history. Both of which were related to his job.

How about drawing?

Now, that didn’t sound too bad.

He got out of bed and picked up a pencil, a spare piece of paper, and the floriography manual you lent him, off of his desk to use as a hard surface. As he settled into his mattress, he peered out the window one last time. He spotted a familiar green beret against the tan limestone bouncing way faster than necessary down the steps leading to the plaza.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

Well, time to get started,

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You sat in the break room of the florist’s, reading the latest edition of Automatons Weekly while waiting patiently for the porridge you had bought from the grocers to finish absorbing the water.

Vaska sat across from you, drinking floral tea while flipping through Tales 2. You’d prepared a bowl of porridge for her as well, just a different flavor. Hers had flecks of green and black in it, and it smelled quite good. Rather savory, in your opinion. The one you had gotten Gepard was the plain kind.

They had a surprising amount of flavors of porridge specifically at the grocers, like cinnamon, coconut, banana, whatever. It was honestly overwhelming. The fact they spent so much time curating the porridge aisle was weird, considering they didn’t have anything worth buying from the Underworld. But nonetheless.

After lifting the lids and seeing that the grains were sufficiently cooked, you both dipped your spoons in and shoveled them in your mouth.

“Blech!” Vaska said, coughing her mouthful into a napkin. “It tastes like soap,” You looked at her wordlessly as you swallowed yours.

You pondered for a moment.

“You know… I think I’ve had dirt more flavorful,” you said, bursting into loud laughter. “And how exactly do you know what soap tastes like?”

Vaska gave you a look loaded with venom.

“Whatever. You up for some cookies?” You shrugged.

She snickered, cracking open the door to the sweets cabinet in response, and fished out a jar of Meg’s famous chocolate brownie cookies.

Well, so much for that plan.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

85 notes · View notes

ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

Sweet Hibiscus Tea.

Yan Shalnark x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a day of finally trying to face your social anxiety, you walk home alone. The roads are empty, quiet, and eerie. But you are almost home now, aren’t you? You are not going to cry anymore. Just when you think life is starting to turn around for you, it goes in the exact opposite direction.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, kidnapping, misogyny, not SFW implications, psychological horror elements, manipulation, panic attacks, Shalnark being an asshole, unhealthy relationships, and stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

Can be considered to be within the Hier Encore universe.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham

Things She Said by Chris Garneau

Baby Bride Rag by Roar

Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo

Appetite of a People-Pleaser by Ghost and Pals

Valentine, Texas by Mitski

I’m Yer Dad by GRLwood

Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez

Freaks by Surf Curse

Neighbour by Mother Mother

“You stay soft, you get beaten; only natural to harden up.” — Mitski, Stay Soft

*~*~*~*

Regardless of how much time has passed, this convenience store always remains the same.

There is always the familiar, tired face of the clerk behind the cash register, her gaze never on you or any other customer who walks in and out of the doors, a simple, muted hello being the only proof that she noticed you.

The lights dim and blink without fail, fading from white to a shade of daffodil to dark flaxen before disappearing and resurfacing yet again as alabaster. No matter how black the night sky is, the less-than-bright illumination never changes.

Neither does the rest of the scenery.

Next to the payment area are two vending machines, with one not functioning. It is dead, with the glass broken by a punch that left a large gaping hole in the dead center. Once when you accidentally touched the front wall while bending down to get your can of lemonade from the working one, it left a sticky residue that had you rubbing your palm on your sweater for what felt like an eternity. It somewhat helped, you guessed, but it also stained your clothes. The vending machine to its right was always out of most sweet drinks, often leaving you with the choice of coffee, lemonade, green tea, or water.

You don’t buy any snacks aside from strawberry Pocky and, if you are lucky, a chocolate bar.

But you do buy meals here because it is cheap. Usually fish with miso or a salad, but there have been times when you can find a premade sandwich.

The total cost comes to between 500 to 1000 Jenny. There is always a poster that claims the cashier is the employee of the month, though you are certain that she is the only one who works there.

The only thing that ever changes is the calendar behind her. The past dates are crossed out in red ink that is in the form of thick, scraggly lines. They remind you of the drawings you used to make as a child when your father was too busy screaming outside your door and your mother was too powerless to do anything but cry and yelp as he hit her. One time you drew them fighting, and when one of your maids saw it, it inevitably found its way to his desk.

Needless to say, he was not happy by any means.

*~*~*~*

The calendar behind the worker reads the 17th of April, 1998. On this day in 1985, your first and only ever friend, the head gardener’s apprentice, went missing. When you eventually gathered up the courage after waiting for hours outside, you went to your father’s room to ask where she was.

“She has been removed from the premises for distracting you instead of doing her job.” The answer you got was to the point, because when has he ever been warm to you? “I made sure that she had learned her lesson before she died. She was in pain the whole time. It was a shame to put a bullet between her pretty eyes. But at least she had a bit more use to me beforehand.”

You cried and cried until you threw up.

That is when your mother, the usual bandage over her left cheek this time, came in and sat on your bed gently, sadly.

She patted the area next to her and slowly you stood up from the floor where you kneeled as you sobbed and went over. She asked you if you wanted a hug and you said no. She responded with a simple nod, respecting your answer. But then what she said next turned your tear-stricken face into a glare.

“She’s alive.” She muttered, along with thanks to God and a hold of the cross on her neck.

“...What?”

Your mother shushed you when she heard footsteps coming to the door. When the sound eventually leaves further into the hallway, she leans into your ear while pointing to your vanity. Your gaze leads you to the dusty cat statue made of garnet.

It got shattered a little while ago when a maid cleaning your room accidentally made it fall to the floor. You felt bad for her as she was a new hire, so you never told anyone aside from your mother. You knew that if your father, the head of this household, ever found out he would punish her severely, even when he did not care for the statue at all. You got to choose, if you were lucky, which part gets whipped or cut off.

“Yes.”

Her short answer leaves you almost jumping up out of your seat. “...Huh?”

“At last week’s banquet, she caught the attention of your father’s wealthiest business partner.” She turns to the curtains covering the lone window in your room, her back now facing you. “She was tricked into boarding a car when the driver claimed you were inside waiting for her. To the partner in question, she is nothing but another pretty face to add to his collection.”

At the slight turn of the doorknob next door, you two go as still as wax people in a museum. “Why did he lie to me?”

“Why? Well, he certainly did not want you rebelling against his decision.”

“But I have never rebelled against him before.”

“I know.” Your mother lets out a sharp laugh, salty and sour. “I know you are always trying to be good, trying to stay under the radar. I know, I know because you are a lot like me. but now I am going to teach you a lesson about your father and the world at large. Remember that a man’s resentful attitude will always result in a woman’s agony, physical or otherwise, always. However, when things go right for a man, a woman is either praised like a dog or ignored until something goes wrong because it is never enough.”

You can’t breathe. “But why? Why, why, why? What did I do wrong? What could I have done right?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do or could have done. No matter what, your faults will always be found. That is how most men are raised, to find, and how most women are raised, to hide.”

“...”

“Men’s hearts are such cruel, small things. Oftentimes they can only fit themselves in them, but there have been times where even they cannot fit.” She is still holding onto the cross charm on her gold necklace, firmer than she has ever held you. “They are cold, are or are almost dead. There is no room for people like you and me. No room at all. All they see us as is something to own, something with no feelings whatsoever, and whose only purpose is to please no matter the cost. Such pigs, all of them.” She murmurs some prayers that you cannot hear. “I want you to be better. I want what is best for you, what I never have been able to accomplish; run and live.”

She opens the drawer beside your bed, and you don’t do anything to stop her. It is not like you can hide anything, from her or anyone else in this house. Whatever is buried eventually resurfaces. She pulls out your rarely used bible, a thick layer of dust on the leather cover. It smells and makes you cough. She doesn’t though.

“At least your father does not force you to read this day and night.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It is one of the few things I appreciate him not doing, I do not want you to grow up hating the church.”

“I know.”

“He has made you hate a lot of things already.”

She turns the pages, dust flying around the cold air.

“He made me hate a lot of things too. Blankets, steaks, cameras. The color white, the color black, the color red. The sounds of belts unbuckling, the sound of laughter, the sounds of doors opening and closing and locking.”

You don’t say anything, only looking at her hands. Only in the dark can you not see her scars, her blooming wrinkles, and the bruises that are always fresh.

You don’t say anything, because you have learned from a very young age that you are her only listening ear. You are the only one who keeps her head on her shoulders. You don’t say anything, because she is right. He has made you hate plenty of things. But, but, but. But you can’t hate him, and you can’t hate your mother.

You can’t hate her, because who knows what she would do when she finds out that no one cares about her pain in this hell?

“Mother.” You mutter, putting your head on her shoulder as you scan the text on the page that she selected. She does not stop you.

“Yes, [First]?”

“Do you hate me?” You ask, trying so very hard to not let her see the tears that threaten to come out of your eyes. “Because… because… if I wasn’t conceived, you wouldn’t be here hurting, would you?”

You could swear that you heard her heart skip a beat.

“...I would not be here, yes.”

She is honest, for once. You know at least some of this situation is all your fault.

“Do you hate me?”

“...”

“Mother, please answer me.”

You hear a sniffle as she starts mumbling the words written. “‘A gracious woman gets honor, and violent men get riches.’”

You choose not to press on the subject. You don’t want her to suffer anymore.

*~*~*~*

You buy an orange-flavored Ramune soda, a pack of pork ginger instant ramen, and strawberry Pocky.

The total would come to about 600 Jenny if your quick calculations are right. You could get something extra, like a topping for your ramen or some chips. But would it be wise? You have never been someone who finishes their plate after you had ran away, so what if you just waste your money?

So, you decide not to get anything else.

You walk to the cash register.

You hear an explosion from the back of the building. Small sparks of white and orange. The lights go off before you can place your chosen items down, and you can hear the employee cursing under her breath. The breaker. What happened?

“Damn it, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” She grumbles, putting her thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of her nose, rubbing. “No raises whatsoever. Only one here. Without me, this place wouldn’t be working, ungrateful pricks.”

Fighting the way your heart rate shoots up, you decide that talking to her would be best. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone aside from your boss, right?

Maybe your anxieties would quell, and you can eventually graduate to talking to your co-workers, that would be a dream come true for you.

You haven’t had a friend, a real friend, ever since Rose was taken from you all those years ago. You still cry whenever you think about her. You miss her. Is she dead, is she alive?

You still blame yourself. If only you hadn’t talked to her, maybe she would still be with you. What kind of adult would she have been? A kind one, a responsible one? You would still be friends at least, wouldn’t you? Or would she grow to hate you, if she didn’t already?

You keep telling yourself that she wouldn’t and didn’t, but that is not what your mind tells you.

Is she dead?

You could picture a rotting corpse six feet under. An unmarked grave. Glassy, dead, amber eyes looking upward to anyone who looks down, helpless, pleading. You always liked them, always complimenting them much to Rose’s shy chuckles. She was so pretty, that much was true. You could only imagine how beautiful she would have been as an adult.

Her looks were a personal gift from God, the heavens, and the angels.

But if she didn’t have them, would she not have been treated like she was in the estate?

“Erm, excuse me,” You mutter, taking a few steps forward. “If you want I can go check it out.”

It is what Rose would do. She always liked helping others. You just wish that people would have appreciated it more and seen past her appearance. It was a double-edged sword. It helped her become the head gardener’s apprentice but also caught the attention of both your father and his business partners. You felt bad for her, and still do.

The employee turns around, her confusion prominent despite the dark.

“Erm,” You mutter, looking down at your hands and entangling your fingers in one another. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Is that okay?”

It takes a few moments to respond. Her surprise was unexpected, as you never spoke to her outside of asking her if she had change or telling her you hoped that she had a good night. Rose would be better at this kind of thing. You once had a dream that at a fast food joint, an adult her would order for you and correct the staff when they put pickles on your burger. It’s what could have been, funny moments like that. She had always been the one to take charge, you following her like a lost puppy.

You miss her so much.

So much.

The worker slowly nods. “...Okay.”

“...It’s in the back, right? The breaker.”

This is so awkward. Rose would be better. You wish she was here. Or your mother. Anyone.

“...Uh. Um… I like your eyeliner.” As soon as you say that, you curse at yourself, not wanting to sound like a creep. The woman’s confusion becomes even more prominent.

“...Thanks, and yeah, it’s in the back.”

“...Okay.” Jesus Christ. You turn away from her, the heat on your cheeks hot enough to be mistaken for a fever. This is not what Rose would have done.

“...You can leave your stuff here.” She says, and you quickly spin your heel and put your items on the counter. “It’s not like they are going to grow legs and run off, so relax.”

“...” You both chuckle, and you feel slightly better. “...Thanks. I’ll go now.”

“...” You start walking. “Wrong way.”

You stop.

It takes you a few seconds for you to move back to first base and go off in the opposite direction. As soon as you open the creaky steel door, strong rain and cold wind greet you, along with a loud clap of thunder and lightning.

Perhaps you could go back and get your umbrella from the stand by the door. But that would be even more awkward.

“Stupid. Stupid.”

“If we are lucky, the wind simply detached it or something. Not the best at this sort of thing, though.”

“I don’t think breakers detach.” You could picture her shrugging and scoffing at your murmur. “Sorry. Sorry. Just… sorry. I’m the best at this sort of thing either.”

You close the door behind you and start looking amongst the pitter-patter of the raindrops and gusts that nearly make you fall over.

Stupid. Why do you make everything so weird? Rose would have been so much more charismatic. It was one of her strongest traits after all.

Stupid.

It’s hard to see. Trying not to trip over stones and cracked cement, you grip onto the wall and walk forward. Soon, you feel something.

“Ew, ew, ew!” You cry out, quickly moving your hand away from the slimy slug. “Ew!”

“You okay?”

“Uh, nothing. Just a bug. Yeah, just a bug.”

You hear a chuckle. Stupid.

“Sorry!” You exclaim, almost bowing your head. “Sorry! Really!”

Making sure you don’t touch the slug again, you keep moving.

Eventually, you find the breaker. But it wasn’t what you were expecting by any means. The damage almost looks like it was done on purpose, the way it was open and covered in soot. Did something get to it?

The breaker that exploded was a mass of melted metal that had been blown apart from the intense amount of heat and pressure. It was now barely recognizable as a single unit–parts of it scattered across the cement path and others having been fused and becoming something else entirely. The metal had been melted and blown upwards in the sheer force of the explosion, coating parts of the wall, wet grass, and roof with small, solidified droplets of metal. The ground around the remains of the breaker is burnt and scarred with traces of the immense fire that had consumed it.

It seems the rain put it out.

“No hope for this, huh?”

“Hey,” The employee calls out. “How bad is it? If there is nothing you can do, come back inside.”

So, you do.

The way she turns at you is robotic almost. A smile is on her face that was not there before. She nods when she sees you. Something tells you to not approach.

“It exploded into molten metal.”

“Oh well.”

Under the stormy skies, her gaze turns pale. Her eyes, seemingly captivating, lack any hint of vitality, while her lips curve in a disarming and saccharine manner. A shiver runs down your spine as you meet her gaze, every fiber of your being urging you to flee. Deep within your primal instincts, an innate awareness stirs, recognizing the smile as a charade, a mask of humanity that ventures into the realm of unease: akin to an artificial being adorned with synthetic flesh or a wax figure encased in glass. Those lifeless, white eyes, coupled with a forked tongue and an unsettlingly beautiful countenance, leave you with an undeniable sense of mistrust.

“You’re not mad? Really? Um…”

Something is off. What happened? She looks more like an imposter than anything else. But if she is, where did the real cashier go?

“Don’t worry.” She says, her voice oddly chipper and no longer confused by your awkwardness. “It’s fine. I’m quitting anyway, so it’ll be my boss’ problem.”

You turn your head. “Really?”

She nods. Something is off.

“Like really?”

You blink multiple times and you don’t think she does. She just stands there. Slowly, she nods. Something tells you to run yet again.

“Um… um… okay. Okay. I’ll just pay and leave. How much does it come up to?”

She shakes her head.

“Um. I have to pay. It’s thievery if I don’t.” You get closer. “It’s the law.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can’t just not pay.” You say, taking out your wallet from your sweater pocket. “That’s stealing. It’s wrong.”

Every action she takes is measured and precise, and she seems to move like a machine rather than a person. It’s as if she’s been programmed to act and talk in a certain way, and she doesn’t seem to have the ability to break out of that. She simply stares at you, not speaking.

Run.

You undo the metallic button, hearing the shuffling of paper Jenny within your wallet. “Um. Let me pay. Please.”

She simply shakes her head again.

“It’s fine.” The employee says, the smile still plastered on her face. There is quite more than a hint of blankness and detachment in her expression. She speaks in a mechanical and emotionless manner, her words delivered as though repeated from a script of carefully chosen sentences. Her movements are quick and precise, putting your chosen items in a plastic bag. There is no life or energy in her actions, instead, she moves like a mindless machine, performing her tasks before her without showing any personality of her own. Is it better to just accept it?

What should you do? What shouldn’t you do? Is she joking? Should you leave?

What would Rose do?

One of her hands grasps onto the plastic handles and she holds it out before you. There is no authenticity or warmth. Her eyes are blank. What happened? Should you ask? Should you just take the bag without saying anything further?

“Okay,” You murmur, obeying her silent command. “I hope you don’t get into any trouble though.”

*~*~*~*

Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)

Did you find anything?

Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)

Feitan found her heels nearby along with some blood, so she couldn’t have gotten very far.

You (9th May 1996 17:45)

Nothing yet

Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)

Try checking the stores nearby.

Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)

From the blood trail, she is most likely injured from running and trying to fix herself up in some sort of shelter.

Boss (9th May 1996 17:48)

She may have also discarded the rest of her clothes, not just the heels, and is currently wearing something else.

You (9th May 1996 18:15)

I found a dress and jewelry at the bottom of a lake

You (9th May 1996 18:18)

(image sent)

Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)

That’s it.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)

Disappointing. I’ll send over Pakunoda to ask people nearby.

You (9th May 1996 18:20)

You (9th May 1996 18:21)

Don’t cry, I’m sure we’ll find her soon :)

Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)

I wasn’t crying.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)

I just thought she came around already.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:23)

This will set our heists back weeks.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:24)

She has planned this out for more than a year, it seems.

*~*~*~*

Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. You can’t hear anything else. The sounds sting your ears like an aggravated hornet.

The darkness around you is solid, more so than the cracked, aged concrete path beneath your shoes. There is a tiny light in the distance; a streetlamp.

Silence.

“...”

“Have a good day!”

“...Thank you.”

Let there be light.

“Um…” You can’t see anything. The sounds… stopped. “...Time to go home.”

But the pain stays.

It feels like a drill.

It hurts.

“...” You feel deaf and blind. No, maybe something even worse. “...”

You turn around, to the dark convenience store, and you see the cashier still staring at you. “Have a good day!”

“...”

“[First]?”

…How does she know your name? Did you say it to her in the past?

When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

“[First], dear.” She starts waving as you look at her. “[First]. [First]. [First]. [First]. [First]!”

There is nothing but emptiness. Is your name all she can say? What happened to her? It is like she has regressed. Like a storm cloud in summer, you do not wish for this pain. Now you feel deaf and blind and mute now.

You almost wish that you were dead. All there is is pain. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

Interruption. The sounds returned. Is this good? Is this bad? Does it matter at all?

You walk. You don’t speak. Only walk. You can’t breathe. You can only move. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun.

Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

A hand clamps over your mouth.

You drop the plastic bag from shock, and then you finally hear something other than those sounds; glass shattering.

“Sh…” A voice, calm, along with the smell of oranges. “It’s okay.”

“...!”

“Don’t scream.”

The touch of lips, a man’s lips, on your ear, thin and hard.

“Breathe. Just breathe for me, okay?”

But you can’t. The wind goes down your throat. It is suffocating. You can’t breathe. You smell oranges and something rotting, blood.

It stinks. It fucking stinks.

Christ. Get away. That stink. That fucking stink. Your body rejects it by continuing to not breathe.

“Sh… Breathe. Just breathe, for me, for you, for us.”

“...St… Sto-”

“Sh…” The voice is sweet, not at all sour, like candy. “Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just breathe. You’re going to pass out.” The lips and the scent of his breath are like salted leather in a butcher’s shop, stinky and rotting. “Calm down. Don’t worry.”

“...Sto… Si-”

“Breathe. Sh… It’s okay. Breathe.”

“...Ge… Sti…”

“Sh… Breathe. Breathe, [First]. Breathe. [First]. Breathe. Breathe. It’s okay. Don’t worry about all this. Breathe.”

When you finally do, you gasp, desperate. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”

Get off of me, I can smell you.

“There we go!”

Your vision clears up a bit. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”

“Just keep breathing.”

“...Huff…”

You can smell him. You can practically taste him, with his mouth so close to you.

“Whew! That was a close one!” The man exclaimed, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

Pain. Get off of me. I can smell you, I can hear you, I can taste you. Get off of me. Please.

The pain still stays, in your chest and your ears, and your head. Oranges. Blood.

Get off of me.

Please–

A pain in the back of your neck and you go limp.

Darkness. Then pain again. You can’t move. You can only breathe. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

*~*~*~*

SAINTSHORE SPACE THEATRE

UNDER THE DIRECTION OF RANDOLF URASLEF, GRETEL JAMES, AND QUINCEY J. ORATICE

PAUL DONSHEL CELESTE BAKER ANNE CROAKS

AND

THE GREAT COMET THEATRE COMPANY

SWAN LAKE

ADAPTED BY MUSIC WRITTEN BY PYOTR ILLYICH TCHAIKOVSKY

INSPIRED BY THE CHOREOGRAPHY OF JULIUS REISINGER

WITH THE WONDERFUL CAST OF

(IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)

Odette, the White Swan………………………………………………………….JEAN YVETTE

Odile, the Black Swan……………………………………………………………...JUNO LILOU

Prince Siegfried……………………………………………………………(the name is illegible.)

The rest of the list’s names cannot be read just like Prince Siegfried.

“She is simply beautiful. Just so beautiful. Simply wonderful, perfect.”

As the spotlights ignite, their scorching beams engulf you, causing you to shield your eyes with futile resistance. The sheer force of the light overwhelms your feeble defense. An ethereal audience erupts with exuberant cheers, applause, and whistles, resonating from vacant seats. Champagne flutes collide, men erupt with hearty laughter from their very core, and women unleash piercing screams akin to banshees.

The temperature rises and the noise intensifies, repeatedly, enveloping you in a symphony of overwhelming sensations.

Onlookers casually share their thoughts.

“Get off the stage, we want to see the play, not some stagehand!”

“Boo!”

“Fuck off!”

You run off crying.

“Where is that Odile girl?”

You run into a dressing room. One used by a woman wearing a black dress. She is so pretty. Her long strawberry blonde hair falls off her bare shoulders, clearly just done with a flat iron. There is a burning smell in the air. Smoke. When her gold eyes meet yours, she marches towards you and slams the door shut.

You can almost hear sobbing coming from the other side. Cries.

“So lonely…” The woman mutters. “When will it ever be enough?”

The voice sounds familiar. Her eyes. Her hair.

Nostalgia. Memories you would much rather forget. The basement. The imaginary ripping of clothes and tears and men’s laughter.

“I can’t do this much longer…”

Someone else knocks on her door. You want to scream.

“Come out, dearest.”

The devil. Tall with curved horns and a forked tongue. You want to warn her.

You want to save her. “I’m not going to harm you, I am going to make you happy.”

You are so focused on whether the woman opens the door or not that you do not notice what happens next until it is too late. A clawed hand on your mouth. A tongue licking your ear. Tasting your sweat. Your tears. Laughter. The rest of the world disappears, and the only one there aside from you is the one behind you.

Sh… Sh… Sh… Sh… Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

Get off of me. Please.

“Breathe. It makes things more fun for me.” The voice echoed like you two are in a cave.

You gasp for air, and the smell of blood and oranges fills your nostrils.

“...Huff…”

“That’s better.”

You turn around. There is a body of a man.

But the scaled, furred, horrifying face of a demon.

“Good.” He says, smiling his sharp teeth. “Deep breaths, in and out, come on.”

You do what he says. He praises you again, you think. But you can’t hear it. Either that or you simply do not pay attention to it. What happened to the woman?

“...”

“We should go.”

The woman. The devil, this other… thing.

“...Rose…”

The demon laughs.

“Wake up.”

*~*~*~*

The first things you hear come from a happy man’s voice. “My boss’ girlfriend ran away more than a year ago you see, and he’s been heartbroken ever since. I want to prevent that kind of loss from happening to me. Real pretty one, too! He didn’t expect it, but I don’t blame her. After all, she’s been held captive for more than a year, she had to try to escape eventually.”

…The first thing you feel is lace on your neck. A collar.

It does not tickle or hurt. It itches.

A cold hand plays with it, and it almost chokes you. At your discomfort, the man laughs.

“You are so cute.”

Something metal is on the collar, and it blinks a small red light.

#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh #phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #shalnark #hunter x hunter #hxh phantom troupe #hxh x reader #hxh shalnark #shalnark ryusei #shalnark x reader #yandere shalnark #ultraviolet.

139 notes · View notes

kiryoutann · 1 year

Text

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

Please consider donating to my Kofi. That would really help me!

Likes, replies, reblogs, and shares also count. Once again, thanks so much!

Six months later.

It's so beautiful.

Green grass under the warm sun. A fresh breeze stirred the decorative flags that were hung all over the capital Mondstadt. Gothic architecture is still strong and stands as the main attraction of this country. The river that flowed outside the great wall was reflecting the white clouds that extended beneath the azure sky. Those who are busy with their daily activities are surrounded by the scent of dandelions. Little ones are playing and running around.

Mondstadt is so beautiful. Unfortunately, you spend all day sleeping on the soft bed provided in one of the palace rooms for royal guests.

Childe left the room early in the morning for a diplomatic meeting, so the opposite side of the bed has been vacant for a while. You (thought) you managed to persuade Sasha to let you sleep a little longer, but instead she assumed you were sick and immediately asked Laura to find Childe.

“Love?”

Here he is. You pulled the covers over your head, trying to ignore the sound of his approaching footsteps. The end of the bed was pressed down and you guessed he was sitting next to you. Slowly, Childe pulled your covers up to look at you.

"Are you sick? Want me to call a healer?”

You shook your head quickly, "I simply want to sleep a bit longer."

Childe glanced at Sasha who was standing not far from the two of you before turning back to you. "But, angel, you've slept all day, and they said you have to attend a tea party this afternoon. Well, I don't mind if you don't but, are you sure you're alright?” He brushed away the strands of hair covering your face.

"I'll be fine. Just.. give me one more hour of sleep.” You spoke drowsily and then shut your eyes once again.

Childe frowned in worry. "Are you sure? Should I stay? I can tell them I have urgent business and leave the conference—”

"Don't be silly, Ajax." You opened your eyes to glare at him. “Why do I feel you’re trying to make me as an excuse to get out of your responsibilities?”

A laugh from him. “Hey, I was really worried you know.” He says.

"I told you I'm fine. I'm not going to die, at least not now."

"I thought we agreed not to have talks like this again." Childe stares in disappointment and you can't help but laugh.

"Good God, I was just kidding." You cupped his face with one hand. “Stop sulking like a baby. I might actually ask you to stay and cuddle with me."

A smile appeared on his handsome face as he drew closer to you, “Hmm? What's stopping you?"

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Sasha and the other two were trying hard to deaf their ears to the conversation you both thought was quiet enough for them not to hear. Her eyes darted to the walls of the room as if that was the most interesting thing. At least that will distract her from you and Childe who are too preoccupied with each other to notice anyone else's presence.

A kiss on your lips. “I'll hurry back for you alright? Don't look at other men at the tea party." You almost roll your eyes at his words.

“It’s a tea party only for the ladies.”

"You can never be too careful."

Childe got out of bed and you already started to miss his warmth. He briefly spoke to Sasha, saying that she should immediately call a healer if anything should happen to you. After giving you one more glance (and a wink), he walks to the door to Dmitri outside the room.

A sigh left you before you got up reluctantly asking your maids to prepare warm water for a bath.

One rosewater bath later and you're sitting at the dresser. Laura did your hair, while Ksenia applied your makeup. She patted the powder pad so gently you yawned. Sasha noticed this and stared suspiciously at your reflection in the mirror. You took a deep breath trying to relieve the tiredness in your body.

"We are finished, Your Majesty." Laura and Ksenia said together.

You said a small thank you to them then got up from the chair. Laura opened the door for you, letting you leave the room first. Your three ladies-in-waiting followed behind you on your way to the garden where the tea party was being held.

Warm air hugs you as soon as you step into the palace garden. Butterflies and a few small insects flutter and land on the colorful flowers that grow around you—you almost forget how beautiful they are after living on Snezhnaya for so long. Once more, the wind blows. The sun falls to illuminate your path to the gazebo with a white iron roof where a table spread out with beautiful cloth is located. The sound of your footsteps turned the heads of the Mondstadt nobles, and you smiled at them all.

“Empress (Y/N), good afternoon.” The blonde-haired woman—Countess Jean—carved a thin smile with her polished pink lips.

Some Mondstadt nobles you've never met before welcome you. Jean stood next to them while helping introduce them one by one to you. “This is Lady Fischl, daughter of Duke Verurteilung of Immernachtreich.” A green-eyed blonde bowed politely at you before giving an enthusiastic look.

“Empress! I, Fischl, hast known all kinds regarding thou, especially how they define thy grace and beauty as being comparable to the stars that adorn the welkin at dusk. Wouldst I may add, thy lovely gown caught mine eye and wondered where I might find some one with such stitching talent!”

"Ah? Um..” While trying to figure out what she said, you lifted the hem of your dress slightly. "This was made by a Snezhnayan tailor."

“'tis decided. I shall cross mountains and sail oceans to meet this tailor!"

Jean cleared her throat awkwardly. “Lady Fischl, may I continue?” she asked, earning a nod.

After Countess Jean introduced you to the Mondstadt nobles who were present at the tea party, Princess Ayaka waved enthusiastically. “Princess—! Ah, I mean, Empress! Please sit next to me!” She pointed out the empty chair next to her.

Jean watched as everyone had taken a seat. She then continued, “Since King Diluc doesn't yet have a partner to handle the tea party, I'm the one responsible for this. For that, allow me to present traditional Mondstadt delicacies for overseas guests to taste.” She signaled the maid to put the snacks on the table.

A cake covered with pink cream and fresh raspberries is set in the middle. Lemon buttercream cakes make you smile seeing their small size. You looked around the table as Jean described each dish. The cookies placed in front of Ayaka appeared to be delicious.

What smells like boiled eggs wafts into your nostrils, and you instinctively cover your mouth to hide the nausea that's roiling in your gut. Ayaka immediately got a handkerchief for you. Sasha who is sitting at the table along with other nobles ladies-in-waiting rushes over to you.

“Princess!” Ayaka mistakenly called out from panic.

“Your Majesty! Is something the matter?!”

You were too occupied trying to ease your nausea as you covered your nose with a blue handkerchief to respond to Sasha. Jean orders one of the maids to call a healer. You glance out of the corner of your eye for the source of the pungent scent.

"That.. the smell.. get rid of it, please." You said after finding a loaf of boiled eggs not far from Jean. "I'm sorry but, the smell .."

Jean followed your gaze and nodded quickly. “No need to worry, Empress (Y/N).” He gave the plate of bread to the maid to take away. "The healer will come soon."

A server arrives with a new meal just as your nausea begins to subside. The smell of eggs returned. The handkerchief was tightened over your lips as the shaking of your stomach intensified. Sasha noticed your face beginning to flush and rose up from her kneeling position in front of you to approach Jean.

“Your Excellency, I'd better take Her Majesty to a healer right away. Please accept my apologies for leaving the tea party early.” He says.

“I understand. Please, lead them to the healer's room!”

In response to the blonde's request, one of the maids nodded. Sasha and Ksenia put strong hands on your shoulders helping to support you while stroking your back. Laura pulls out a bottle of fragrance trying to ease your nausea. The long hallway was filled with hurried footsteps on the way to the healing room. After passing through the door, the royal healer immediately tells you to lean on the red velvet couch.

The first thing she did was check your pulse. Her warm fingers touch your skin as she furrows her brows in concentration. She pursed her lips thinly, asking about your monthly cycle—which Sasha answered in detail. You feel awkward knowing she knows about it more than you do.

The healer nodded while retaining an assumed diagnosis. "I already have a suspicion, but I'll need to confirm it again." She dipped her hands in a basin of clean water before turning back to you while making sure her palms were raised; you watched as the water dripped down her elbow. "I must request that you remove your dress, Your Majesty."

Although the examination is uncomfortable, you know that it is necessary for the healer to confirm the diagnosis. After she was done, Sasha helped you put on your clothes again while waiting for the woman to tell you what was wrong.

"There are several reasons besides pregnancy that can affect your late monthly cycle, such as stress or fatigue. However, after I combined that with the nausea caused by the strong smell—the smell of eggs as one of them—and the physical examination just now that revealed enlarged breasts and changes in areola—I can confirm that you are pregnant.”

Laura and Ksenia gasped with joy. Sasha smiled silently. While you are frozen.

The healer's lips curved up, “Congratulations, Empress (Y/N). You are with child.”

Something defines the brilliance of this world's hues. The basin is no fuller than your heart which flows happiness and emotion to every inch of you. The realization that there is another life growing inside your tummy sweetens the air. You want to set your foot on every green meadow here to let them know that you are the happiest human being on earth.

As you covered your mouth to contain your sobs, your hold on the fabric of your dress' grew tighter. Your maids approach you to congratulate you. You couldn't help but extend your arms and hug all three of them. Women celebrating other women's blessings

You wiped your tears, looking at Sasha with a smile.

"Please don't tell him just yet."

Sasha's eyes widen from that, but what she gives you next is a smile—a warm one. You wouldn't have realized she was holding you if it wasn't for the light squeeze she gave; her way of telling you that she will continue to be with you and wants nothing but the best for you and now, your child. Laura and Ksenia congratulated you, saying they would do their best to accompany you on your pregnancy journey.

Aside from the promise made by Sasha, it's another one that makes you smile with blushing cheeks.

In your room, Sasha instructed Ksenia to prepare warm water for a bath while Laura hurried to inform Jean that you were unwell and couldn't continue the tea party. The ball is being held tonight—that's reason enough for Sasha to force you to stay in bed and take plenty of rest.

When they dress you in a mauve dress for the ball, your ladies-in-waiting make sure not to tie the bodice too tightly. Diamonds and gems accessorize your neck, ears and fingers. You try to hold back a smile when you see the door swing open showing Childe ready in his nice suit. He leans against the arm of the couch, blue eyes sweeping across your back carving a thin grin before he meets yours and gives you his usual wink.

"We are done, Your Majesty." Sasha told you.

"Thank you." You got up from your seat, not missing the enthusiastic stares of your ladies-in-waiting.

Childe holds out his hand to receive yours. He squeezed it gently before bringing it to his lips, a chaste kiss you received from him. "Are you sure we shouldn't skip the ball and cuddle the night away?"

“Absolutely. Besides, I heard that Mondstadt has the best wine.” You reasoned that even if you knew full well, there would be no alcohol going down your throat tonight and in the months to come.

"Firewater is still better in my opinion." Childe said, leading you to the door.

The sound of music is heard the second you enter the ballroom. A resounding blend of harp and piano throughout the opulence. Many of the guests had dragged themselves onto the dance floor, their partners clutched tightly in their hands. You and Childe get greetings from several familiar faces, but not a few Mondstadt nobles who you don't recognize have the courage and courtesy to introduce themselves and give a warm welcome.

“Emperor Childe.”

When Childe and you turned around, two men were standing there, one with red hair and the other with dark blue strands. Both of them had long hair, with the only distinction being the height of their ponytails.

“King Diluc.” Your husband holds out his hand for a handshake.

Diluc Ragnvindr. The red-haired King of Mondstadt who reminds you of fire. You wonder if he's hiding a smoldering spirit behind his polite face. He was present in another set of his dapper suit. Unlike at Snezhnaya's recent banquet, he appeared with his long hair pulled up into a higher-than-usual ponytail.

Diluc gave you a brief nod before turning to the man next to him. “Allow me to introduce my brother. This is Duke Kaeya. Perhaps you have not met." He said, making your attention fall on the man wearing an eye patch.

“Ah, right. This is the first time we have met, Duke Kaeya.” Childe shook his hand.

Kaeya painted faint dimples on his tan skin. "It is an honor to meet in person such a wise person as you, the Emperor and Empress of Snezhnaya." He gave Childe a friendly smile, which you swear turned into something else when he swept his dark eyes across you.

Diluc's red eyes widened as he watched Kaeya hold out his hand asking for yours. He didn't have to do this, but he chose to do it. Childe watched as you offered your hand hesitantly. A kiss that was too long for Childe not to think anything of it landed on the back of your hand. Kaeya opened his eyes to look at you accompanied by a smile that had a meaning behind it.

“Welcome to Mond, Empress (Y/N).”

If looks could burn, Kaeya would have already emptied all the drinks in here to quell the fire that was searing him. You swear you heard Childe pulled out a light scoff. Kaeya straightened his back again with an expression close to satisfaction.

“Ahem.”

Diluc made a fake cough noise, but it was more to remind Kaeya to keep his boundaries than to break the uneasy silence between the four of you. "Kaeya is known to be friendly with others, so I hope you don't take it the wrong way, Your Majesties." He says.

Childe laughed dryly. “Does this mean Duke Kaeya is also friendly enough to take me on a little tour around Mond?” His voice is sweet, but you know the intent in it contrasts from that.

"Why, of course, Your Majesty." Kaeya smiled widely and placed his right hand on his left chest. "It would be my pleasure.”

This situation is too heavy. You want nothing more than someone to save you from this and luckily, Diluc has the ability to read that. "If you'll excuse us, we have to greet the other guests." He then turned to the buffet. "Do enjoy your time with banquets and refreshing drinks like grape juice."

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” You said.

Childe and you turned the other way while Diluc and Kaeya started walking toward the other nobles. You take a deep breath before emptying your lungs again.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop picking fights with every man I talk to."

"He was flirting with you." Childe stopped in his tracks.

You hastily put your hand in front of his lips stopping him from letting out a longer protest. "Could you get me a glass of grape juice?" you ask him.

Childe furrowed his brows, "Not wine?" You shake your head.

Although not completely convinced, Childe gives you a kiss on the hand then tells you to stay here. You see his figure walking to the buffet table. His broad shoulders make you smile. You sweep your eyes around to relieve boredom.

Strands of blonde caught your eye. You remember she has longer hair; now it falls a little lower than her earlobes. The woman with gold eyes was spinning in an orange gown, in the arms of a man with nearly the same hair color as her. His eyes could still be seen through the mask that covered the right portion of his face.

The smile on Lumine's face was so wide it radiated happiness.

Footsteps draw your attention to Childe, who is holding a glass of grape juice and another of what you assume is dandelion wine. He handed you one. You stared at the liquid before taking a gulp, feeling the sweet taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?"

You nodded, "It tastes better than I imagined."

"Wanna bring home ten barrels of it?"

A laugh from you. "One bottle is enough, Ajax." You said.

In the midst of a sea of people, a figure stands out for some reason; you're not sure why; it could be his complex fancy suits, the way he carries himself, the power in his gaze, or the fact that you've known him all your life. You greet your old friend with a smile on your face.

Zhongli made strides towards you with a handsome smile. Under the extravagant chandeliers, amber eyes sparkled beautifully. Childe did not take his blue eyes off his every move.

The man stops right in front of you for a bow, "Your Majesties."

Weird to hear that from him. Even though it had been six months ago Childe had inherited the throne and three months ago Snezhnaya had declared it an imperial state; You think you'll never get used to all this. Let alone one that came out of Zhongli.

"Duke." Childe gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“Duke Zhongli.” You called him enthusiastically. "It's.. a surprise to find you here."

Zhongli nodded, “His Majesty Emperor Shiva is unable to attend. I've come to represent him at his request.” He says.

“Make sure you do well, Duke.” Childe commented.

Zhongli pretended to be blind by the sharp glare Childe gave him. “I appreciate the concern—

"Who said I was concerned?"

“—but, everything is well.” Zhongli continued despite being interrupted by him.

Your lips were about to part to change the topic to break the pressure between the two when a woman bumped into Zhongli and spilled her glass on him. Her voice is sweet, making you turn to look at her and stop in place.

“O-oh my! I'm so sorry! I was careless and—”

A laugh from Zhongli. "Nothing to worry about. Are you alright?”

Zhongli asked the woman—the woman you saw in your vision. You're completely convinced after casting a glance at the hanfu she's wearing. Zhongli continued to talk to her with a big smile that seemed to be permanently etched on his face.

"This is my first time here, and I've already ruined someone's expensive suit. I'm truly sorry!” The woman kept apologizing to Zhongli.

"As I said, this is nothing, Lady..?"

“Guizhong! My name is Guizhong.”

Guizhong.

Guizhong appeared in front of you with everything that made you believe she would be a good fit for Zhongli. You watched her give him a blue handkerchief. Long fine strands of hair. She's clumsy, but you find that to be cute. You wonder if Zhongli thinks so too. They were lost in their new conversation and every word they exchanged dripped happiness into the depths of your heart.

The promised happy ending had at last arrived.

“Duke Zhongli, Lady Guizhong, “You have their attention.

Guizhong looked at you and then at Childe before bowing deeply in regret. “Goodness! Your Majesties! M-may prosperity and health be bestowed on you! I'm sorry I should have realized sooner." She tightly shut her eyes after hearing your chuckle.

"Please rise. Forgive the interruption but, we'll leave you both to your talk."

Zhongli turned to face Childe who was grinning happily at you. "Now?" he asked.

"Yes." You turned your gaze on the area where people were dancing. “I suddenly want to dance.” You turned to Childe. “Perhaps the Duke can bring Lady Guizhong for one.” You said to Zhongli.

Those amber eyes stared at you in curiosity and confusion. In your heart, there is one thing you want to tell him: that happiness is close to him. But, just as Zhongli and Guizhong gave nods and let you go, you twisted your heels and tightened your grip on Childe's arm.

"That’s scary." Your husband comments.

“What is?”

Childe slowed down as he reached the dance floor. "Your smile. You look like you've planned something and it's working." He put his hand on your waist.

A chuckle escaped your lips. You put your hand on his shoulder, and he starts picking up on the melodic tempo of the music. “If so, will you stop sulking and dance properly?” You see the annoyance reflected on his face again.

"How could I not when nearly every in the room—in all of Tevyat—was trying to flirt with my wife?"

"They were just talking to me, Ajax." you corrected.

“They were flirting with you, angel. Don't try to manipulate my memory."

A sigh comes out a sign you give up arguing with him. Childe took you for a twirl. "You are the most jealous man I have ever known." You then continued, "I can't imagine how you'd react when the other one showed up."

The frown in the middle of his brow deepened before his limbs came to a complete stop. He gave you a dumbfounded look. “Wait, what are you—” His expression now full of hurt. "—you're.. you have another man?" He spoke with trembling, and you stifled a laugh in the guilt that you were covering up.

"Well," Your hand tried to lead him to dance again but, Childe refused to move his feet before you answered him. "After all, I'm still not sure if it'll be a boy or a girl, right?"

Confusion hit him like a tsunami even though his betrayed expression was still there. “A boy or a girl? What kind of nonsense are you playing—”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words died suddenly on the tip of his tongue. Childe stared at you with wide blue eyes. The blood seemed to be drained from his face before returning to fill his cheeks.

For him, the world came to a halt for a brief minute. His brain stopped functioning. His ears suddenly went deaf leaving your voice and those words repeating over and over in his head. His mouth gaped open. His heart was pounding inside his ribs pumping out the feelings he was still digesting. Then a tsunami of happiness washed over him, so overwhelming that his lips curved and he sobbed as he took you in his arms.

It was one moment he wished could stay forever. Even so, Childe—Ajax, is aware that there will be more happy things in the future. With you, with now—his unborn baby. At the same time, Childe felt and desired a lot.

In the middle of the melodies that flowed from a combination of piano and harp, you hugged him even tighter. He is the luckiest man in the world. His heart felt like it was wrapped in satin and moonlight. You laugh, but it's his chest that warms. What a dream this is, and God has the generosity to make it not end up as one. Perhaps He knows: happiness should come in the form of a really sweet fruit for two human beings who have suffered for a long time.

Childe gave you a smile before laying a kiss on your lips. He didn't mind if he had attracted everyone's attention as a result. The music could stop but, he wouldn't with this. He placed another one, still not caring if people would label him unethical.

“I,”—he kissed you again—“love,”—another one—“you.” He said in between kisses.

You both left the ballroom early that evening. The moonlight filtering in through the opened window illuminates the bed where you lie down for a cuddle. The wind of Mondstadt's capital is finally appreciated the next day in the lush meadows.

"Please be born healthy." Childe speaks to your still unnoticeable pregnant belly before giving it a small kiss.

The blue sky stretches above the white clouds. He held your hand as you walked down the grassy path. The gurgling waterfall sounded faint. Dandelion blooms swayed and then scattered into the air. On a wooden chair with a view of a statue in the center of a lake, the two of you decide to take a break.

"I wonder how Shiva will react to this." You start the conversation.

Childe's shoulders shook as he laughed. "He will definitely kill me. For impregnating my wife." You join in the louder laugh.

There was a silence before you lifted your head from his shoulder to say, "About that grape juice.." Childe looked at you curiously. "I don't think ten barrels will be enough."

Childe carved a smile. The two of you returned to enjoy the sight ahead.

"Twenty it is."

AbbyBianx, ness

@thelovelydiviner @r0ttenhearts @tsunotaro-san @yguchild @a-random-bored-person @ajaxstar @dandelimoonus @deemayaz @sxztus @meiraloves2dmen @bananazzzen @sugarxbxby123 @httpmitsuya @kaiyoschaos @ganyuzuri @enviouspeanut @justreadings @nat1203 @creamiepudding @childes0nlywife @hieraethx @r0se-r4men @cyn9 @bluelovesleep @sucrosia @undecidingfate @funicidals @geozhong @chipzho @yevenly @hanilessa @gojoandelsalovechilde @angeliquen @imthestatebum

If I wrote your username wrong, please let me know TT_TT For those who can’t be tagged, please make sure the setting for "Allow this blog to appear in search results” is turned on.

Check out more of my post: WRITING COMMISSION

193 notes · View notes

repressedqueen · 7 months

Text

Unexpected part III- DOUBT

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Word count: ~4.180

Warnings: smut, insecurities, anxiety (not extreme)

Summary (part 3): There is still time to come around and run home. You simply can’t bring yourself to. Instead, your hand, on each own volition, reaches forward and knocks the wooden door twice.

“One second” you hear his voice.

There is something about the sense of hearing, that can so powerfully confirm reality. Up until that moment, there was a part of you that believed you didn’t actually get your ass off the couch to head to a brothel at 3.00 am, but fell asleep instead, and you were currently in a dream. You are about to see Bucky again and this simple fact makes your heart beat in an inhuman rhythm. You still have time to run! your inner voice tries one last time, but then, the door opens.

or, first came the Trust, then came the Doubt. These two keep working backward. Let's see where that will lead them...

A/N: Guess who is back? SexWorker!Bucky baby!!!

I thought I was done with the story after completing it after more than two years but I guess I couldn't stay away from my two sweethearts. I want to thank all the people who expressed their love for this story and encouraged me to believe in myself. I hope this new chapter meets your expectations 😉

[Side note 1: if this is the first time you come across this story, I HIGHLY recommend to read the first two parts before reading this one, since this story is mostly character driven (even though it's quite smutty, I know it sounds like a paradox) and only then the emotions of the characters will make sense. But that's totally up to you 🙂

Side note 2: from now on, the chapters will most likely be written in present tense since that's what I currently feel more comfortable writing in.]

Series Masterlist

The door closes one more time and Bucky is alone in his room again. His workspace, where he can escape into the safety of a role instead of the dread of nightmares. Where he is James, not Bucky.

He throws himself on the bed, reaching for his phone. 3,00 am. Three more hours to go and he already feels exhausted. He used to stay energetic until dawn. His job may be frowned upon, but he doesn’t give one shit; he enjoys it. He likes the idea of giving others pleasure instead of pain; instead of death.

Lately, he tends to count the hours until he is off. It must be just a phase he keeps telling himself.

The light of the bedside lamp flickers again, getting his attention. He sees it then, the gold bracelet, carefully caught around the little lamp’s tube. It fell from her wrist at some point during that night and he found it later, next to the foot of the bed.

He remembers then.

Ηe was Bucky once, in that same room; With her. Bucky. With all his back story, all the burden, the guilt. And it was okay.

Nothing has been the same after that night and he can’t forget it, no matter how hard he tries.

He didn’t give the bracelet to the lost and found, like he was supposed to. He liked having something of hers, just like she had something of his.

He let the pad of his finger run across the cold chain and a sudden thought appeared in his mind: maybe the reason he stopped enjoying sex with many women was because he only wanted to make love to one…

Two hesitant knocks on the door drew him out of the processing of that idea.

keep reading on AO3

#unexpected #BUCKY X READER #BUCKY BARNES X READER #BUCKY BARNES AU #THE WINTER SOLDIER #BUCKY BARNES #READER INSERT #BUCKY BARNES SMUT #BUCKY BARNES FANFICTION #BUCKY BARNES X YOU #SMUT #SMUT AND FLUFF #BUCKY AND READER AU #FANFICTION #MY STORY #MY WRITING

61 notes · View notes

kitsune-oji · 9 months

Text

-> Late Nights

Holding your Hand

Reader can't sleep and searches out a certain demon of Gluttony in hopes it will help

Beel x/& gn!Reader (you/yours)

Set in the beginning of the first obey me game - One Master to Rule Them All

Word count: 1'081

Tags/warnings: Reader is shorter than Beel, demons hc as being stronger than humans in general, fluff-like

It was always in the late hours of night, when you were supposed to be asleep, that the thoughts that kept holding you from it started to emerge. Your eyes were drooping, heavy with exhaustion and the darkness around you started to feel more suffocating by the second.

You didn't want to stay here, not in this bed, not with these thoughts, not alone. Having to share a house with six relative strangers wasn't the most comfortable situation but you've been doing your best to get to know them. Not forced but slowly and surely. Until now, the one kindest to you had been the one who may have seemed the most intimidating at first.

Beelzebub towered over you as the tallest of his brothers, as well as the one with the most muscle mass. Despite the fact that all of them had supernatural strength you couldn't hope to compete with, the power difference was most obvious with him. Pairing that with the fact that he had a grumpy resting face and the rumbling of his stomach could make you mistake it for a large beast just wasn't very inviting and yet, he was much more kind than you'd guess.

In a way, he was blunt, honest to a fault but part of you liked that. With someone who would tell you right to your face that he may eat you alive or that he didn't like something you did, you never had to fear him pretending to like you or talking behind your back. It was unnecessary in his eyes and you could appreciate that a lot.

Last night you had still spent in his room - forced by the fact that your own had been halfway destroyed by that very same demon - and even though you had been relieved to have your own room again and thought Beelzebub would probably be happy over the same privacy as well, you just didn't know where else to go. As you stood in front of his door and raised your hand to knock, you paused. Would he be asleep already? Should you wake him up or would that upset him? You didn't really know where you stood with him yet and for a moment, you considered just going back and trying to sleep on your own once more.

No dice, as the door opened just as you lowered your fist again. Beel almost walked into you, not expecting you standing right outside of it. Why would he. By all means you should be in your bed right now, not here.

He stopped short and looked down at you, his face hard to read with how little emotion he showed. By now you knew that that didn't mean he didn't feel anything however, just that he expressed it in much more subtle ways.

"...are you hungry too?"

It was his way to invite you to go to the kitchen with him. You nodded.

The walk there was silent but it didn't feel as awkward as you had feared. Instead, it was sort of pleasant actually without any pressure to say something to fill the silence up with meaningless chatter. With Beel, you didn't have to talk a lot, just about the things that were important when the time was right. It felt like you understood each other without words fairly well already and it had only been about a week since you arrived in the Devildom.

The kitchen floor was cold under your feet, made out of stone slaps that were easy to clean in case of messes. Your toes curled as it got more and more uncomfortable and you tried to find somewhere to sit. There were no chairs at the table in the middle of the room but maybe you could just sit on top.

It came to about the middle of your back and you worried you wouldn't manage to get up on it but you tried anyway. And again. And again.

The little hops drew Beel's attention from the fridge, a leftover sandwich already stuffed in his mouth. Heat gathered in your cheeks in embarrassment and you stopped your attempts. Maybe you could just deal with the cold after all-

Beel stood and stepped close to you.

"Do you want up?"

His hands hovered over your waist, not touching. Something about the way he said it made you feel even more flustered than before but you nodded once more at his question, thanking him quietly after he sat you down at the edge of the table.

Silent once more, you watched him empty out the fridge with fervor. It was fascinating to see how quickly he managed to shovel it all down his throat, wasting not a crumb.

"I can't sleep", you whispered, knowing that he would hear. Fairly enough, his head turned the slightest bit towards you to listen better.

"I thought it might... be easier around you. If that's alright."

The next swallowing sound was almost uncomfortably loud in comparison.

"...it's ok. I thought the same."

The admission was a quiet rumble of his voice, though he didn't sound embarrassed but perhaps thoughtful. Despite the fact that the little food left in the fridge couldn't possibly have satisfied his endless hunger, Beel stood and closed the empty food storage. His hand reached out for you, palm up as he waited for you to choose.

You took his hand, hopping down from the table and shivering when you touched the cold floor again. Together you walked back to his room, your hand dwarved by his and you kept close to him, reveling in the warmth emenating from him.

There was no need to ask him why he had the same thought as you. It was most likely his nightmares keeping him up again and you didn't want to pry. You didn't really want to destroy this comfortable silence around him.

The two of you laid down quietly, shuffling close enough to once again hold hands, facing each other beneath the covers.

"Goodnight", you whispered.

"Goodnight", Beel whispered back, gently squeezing your hand before closing his eyes.

Mirroring him, you listened to his soft and steady breathing, thinking only of how your hand felt in his and if you had to worry about his brothers making a fuss over you sleeping here again tomorrow. For now, you didn't care. Future you could deal with that, present you slowly drifted off into the darkness that in his presence, let you breathe.

#obey me shall we date #mine #om! swd #race neutral mc #gender neutral reader #fluff #gn mc #obey me beelzebub #Beel #Beel x reader #Obey me fanfiction #Obey me oneshot #Obey me drabble #Writing

90 notes · View notes

creative-caramel-coffee · 9 months

Text

The Bear ch 5

Pairings: Wanda x R

Word count: 3.9K

Summary: You join your uncle tony in the avengers, it wasn’t your original plan but you never planned for your powers either so here you are. Now your at the avengers tower and falling for the girl of your dreams. With a haunting past and interesting abilities can you navigate your way through the challenges of being a hero? After a mission gone wrong and a cruel twist of fate the team starts digging for answers. Can tony keep them from finding out the truth?

TW: none really, canon typical violence (I guess?)

A/n Sorry this took so long im already working on chapters 6 and 7

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7

You stood with Nat and Wanda at the front of the meeting room. Eyes downcast you fidgeted with your fingers only stopping when nat took your hand to hold it in order to stop you. Nat begun to explain squeezing your hand as your eyes were trained on your shoes. Wanda and nat carefully studied the face around the table. Taking note of the different reactions for later.

Steve just looked confused. Clint looked happy that he had someone else to sign with. Tony looked proud. Sam looked unbothered. Bruce looked excited about something new to study. Thor looked busy with his pop tarts. Peter smiled at you softly which you didn’t see. He was kind and understanding. Bucky looked sympathetic knowing how it felt to not be able to talk due to his own past with hydra torture. Wanda looked protective and nat just looked slightly exhausted.

After she finished explaining there was a brief silence in which peter shot you a thumbs up which you responded with the same thing still not wanting to talk.

“So is she nonverbal right now?” Steve asked not fully understanding and you nodded. “So how does she communicate then?” He asked and you signed a quick joke about Steve being old and confused to Clint who laughed. “Oh she does the hand thing too?” Steve said having seen Natasha and Clint signing before in the past.

“Yes the ‘hand thing’” Nat said “or sign language is what she uses when she doesn’t want to talk”

“So she doesn’t want to or cant talk?” Steve said.

“Depends.” Nat shrugged.

There were a few more questions mainly from Steve and some from Bruce as he wanted to make sure he had all the medical or mental accomodations he could have there for you if you needed them. Peter was eager to learn sign language now and had already started to bother tony into getting him a tutor. Bucky was now explaining it again to Steve who was still confused and tony and Bruce were now discussing alternate methods for coms now it was more than just Clint that needed a new method. While the team was engaged in their own little conversations about you and the new topic, Wanda noticed you starting to struggle under all the attention. It wasn’t bad but you simply hadn’t expected such a kind reaction and acceptance to come so easily.

When she saw tears gathering in your eyes she assumed the worst. Unable to know how grateful you were. Gently she took your hand and motioned for nat to follow as she broke off her ASL conversation with Clint. Carefully Wanda led you from the room with nat in tow. The two women led you back to the room and Wanda grabbed you sketchbook while you sat on the bed. They knew what you needed and you drew while snuggled in Wanda’s arms. Wanda lifted your chin gently to look at her.

“Are you ok my love? Was that too much?” She asked concerned at the tears still glossing your eyes. Without responding you held up the drawing. It was the team in the meeting room. But instead of seeing anything bad Wanda saw the looked of love on the faces you had drawn.

“Never expected them to be so kind about it.” You whispered and Wanda pulled you into her.

“Always my love. Always. We are your family and we love you.” She kissed the top of your head as she felt your small tears dot her sleeves.

the rest of the day you stayed in your room with Wanda. nat went to go brainstorm with tony how to tell the team about your past.

You were sat on your bed cuddling with Wanda and watching some sit com, but you weren’t really paying much attention. You were curling Wanda’s red hair around your finger and fiddling with the strands, she didn’t mind she quite liked it really. You were laid against Wanda side with your head resting on her chest.

“I love you Wanda.” You said. After a moment you realised what you said. “Shit sorry that just kinda slipped out. I get its a bit early and I-“ you started rambling but Wanda quietened you with a chaste kiss to the lips. She placed a hand on the back of your head and pulled the rest of your body so you were now laid on top of her looking into her eyes with your chin resting in her middle chest.

“I love you too Y/n/n” she said and placed another kiss on your nose which responded with a twitch that was like a bunny. Wanda grinned at the cuteness and proceeded to pepper your face with small kisses. You squealed and buried your face in her neck feeling her chest vibrate with her laughter. Playfully you lightly slapped her arm which one encouraged her laughter you were bright red now when Wanda peeled you away from her neck and cooed at the redness in your cheeks.

“I love you pumpkin.” She said and you squealed when she flipped you over and began tickling your sides.

“I y-yield. I-I yield.” You said through a fit of laughter. Wanda pulled you in and kissed your forehead.

Once more you found yourself in the crook of her arm after you formed a truce and you were dozing lightly in her arms when there was a knock on the door. Wanda frowned as she saw you rub your eyes with your fist.

“Come in.” You said. The door opened and Nat walked in. “Hi Natty.” You smiled and Nat greeted you and Wanda.

“So i spoke to tony.” She said and you groaned.

“Nothing good ever follows the words ‘I spoke to tony’” you whined and Wanda giggled. Nat rolled her eyes.

“Well he wants you to stay in the compound or with someone at all times. He’s worried now hydra knows your alive they’ll attack and try to get you back.” Wanda felt you stiffen against her when Nat said hydra and she hugged you tighter to ground you.

“T-thank you Nat.” You said neither of them missed your nervous stutter. Nat placed a soothing hand on your thigh and used her thumb to rub up and down to calm you.

“It’ll be ok Y/n/n Wanda or I will be with you at all times. Your safe here.” Nat said and you gave them a weak watery smile. “Alright enough sadness who wants to train with me?” Nat asked standing.

“I could use some training.” You said.

“Me too.” Wanda echoed the sentiment.

“Alright I’ll meet you both down there in fifteen.” Nat said smiling and closing the door behind her as she left.

“Are you sure your up for training?” Wanda asked.

“I need to use my powers it’s been a while and I hate not using them regularly especially the shifting. It’s comforting to be able to hide in small places as small animals or feel safe being a bigger thing like a bear.” You admitted and Wanda nodded.

“You know you can take whatever form you want around me or the team we don’t mind.” She said.

“Really?” You asked perking up.

“Of course. Is that why you haven’t been using your powers more? You though we wouldn’t accept you?” Wanda asked mildly concerned.

“A little yeah. Its also force of habit. You know, trying not to draw attention to yourself and all that. Lately I’ve been teleporting more than shifting.”

“Im curious can you teleport while shifted?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah but it takes a lot of concentration to stay as an animal when i teleport. I often end up human again mid jump.”

“We can work on that.” Wanda said. “Right we should probably get up and dressed.”

After changing into active gear you stood by Wanda.

“Hey wands wanna try something?” You grinned.

“Oh god I’m scared. What?” She asked eyeing you.

“Take my hand and find out.” You said extending an arm palm up.

“You better not kill me.” She said and once her hand was in yours you grinned and teleported you both down to the training room surprising Nat.

Wanda stumbled and you held her upright.

“That was cool and all but next time a little warning would be nice.” Wanda said and you shrugged.

“Wheres the fun in that.”

“Nice to see you two made it. Neat trick Y/n/n I imagine you can play some pretty great pranks with that.” Nat smiled and you grinned.

“Could. Have. Same thing.” You said and winked at Wanda.

“Right lets start. First I wanna spar with Y/n to see where your at before we get into some drills.” Nat said stepping into the ring. Wanda stretched and sat on the bench to watch she was also curious of how well you could fight especially against Nat.

“Y/n before we start i want to say this isn’t like hydra training. You can tap out at any time if somethings triggering or too much for you. No maiming or grievous injuries. I’ve seen you fight in Tony’s tapes of your earlier missions.”

“He showed you those?” You asked.

“He did.” Nat nodded.

Wanda stayed silent she also knew about your time doing missions with Tony pre avengers and you had shared your history with her and Nat plus Tony already knew.

After your fight with nat you had impressed both her and Wanda with you. Abilities. You were an avid fighter with good technique and pose. You didn’t rely on your powers to fight but when you used them they bled seamlessly into your tactics.

After a hour of so of training the three of you were hot and sweaty and exhausted. You had been using your powers with Wanda, mainly teleporting which could be draining if used too much. As the three of you left the gym and got in the elevator yo steadied yourself against the wall. Nat shot you a worried look.

“You ok there L/n?” She asked.

“Peachy.” You responded.

“And how are you really?” She asked again.

“Fine just a bit dizzy, sometimes if i use my powers too much this happens. But I’m fine.” You waved off her concern and once the three of you reached you shared floor Wanda steadied you and walked you back to your room.

After a quick shower to get rid of the sweat you and Wanda went back down to the kitchen where you ran into nat who was going through the cupboards like a raccoon.

“Dammit. Friday add peanut butter to the shopping list.” She said sighing and running a hand through her hair.

“I can make you something if you want?” Wanda said and nat spun around looking sheepish.

“Thanks wands.” She said.

“You and Y/n/n go sit at the counter and I’ll whip something up.” Nat and you did as you were told taking seats next to each-other at the bar on the island kitchen counter.

“So Y/n earlier you said you like being shifted and you haven’t had much chance to.” Wanda said as she pulled out some pans. You squirmed in your seat glancing at nat and relaxing as she looked unbothered.

“Yeah.” You said a bit flatly.

“If you want its just us. And I’ll tell you a secret Natty’s a big softy for animals.” She said and nat glared at her with no real heat behind it.

“Really now?” You asked and nat turned to glare at you. A second later you turned into a small black and white ferret and crawled into her lap taking her by surprise. Nat looked down at you in shock before relaxing and cautiously lifting a hand to scratch behind your little ears. You made a happy squeaking noise and nuzzled into her stomach and nat couldn’t hold back her grin. Wanda watched amused and excited to cuddle with you later. Turning back to her cooking nat began to play with your little paws as you curled up and began to doze in her lap. She cooed at how cute you were and tony walked into the kitchen.

“Um have you guys seen Y/n Friday said she was here?” He said looking around and Wanda wordlessly pointed to Nat’s lap. Tony broke out into a grin.

“I love when she does that.” He said and went over to scratch by your ears as you stayed half asleep. You let out a tiny yawn and nat tried hard not to squeal at how cute you were being. Tony chuckled at Nat’s expression and patted your head softly.

“Just tell her for me that me and the team have to go on a mission for a few days. We leave tomorrow. You, her and Wanda are staying here.” Tony said and nat nodded watching him retreat back to his lab.

“She really is adorable like that.” Wanda said and you stretched yawning again. You lifted your paws and placed them on Nat’s chest so you were almost upright and squeaked.

“What do you want y/n/n?” Nat asked and Wanda chuckled.

“I think she wants you to pick her up.” Wanda said before turning and flipping the pancakes.

nat carefully placed each hand under your front legs and lifted you at arms length from her. You cocked you head and she wiggled you side to side chuckling at how your limp body wiggled like it had no bones. After a second your tiny nose twitched and you let out a small sneeze. Wanda cooed and you squirmed and crawled up Nat’s arm and curled around her shoulders and began to doze again. When Wanda finished the pancakes you jumped back to your seat and shifted back.

“You make a very cute ferret like that.” Nat said and you smiled at her.

“Its fun and relaxing.” You said.

“Good you should do it more often I’m sure Nat and I would love to have cuddles with more soft tint creatures.” Wanda said and you blushed slightly and ducked your head to keep eating.

Nat chuckled and the three of you ate together. When you were done Wanda used her magic to clean the kitchen and nat posed the idea of watching a movie together. You hopped up.

“Race you guys.” You said before seamlessly shifting into a wolf cub and bounding around the corner and out of the kitchen. Wanda chuckled.

“That was too cute.” She said and followed you with nat trailing behind. When she entered the lounge she couldn’t see you until her eyes fell on a small prickly ball curled up on a pillow.

“Is that what I think it is?” Nat asked.

“Yep. Y/n/ns a hedgehog.” Wanda laughed. And Nat pouted.

“I wanted something fury.” She said and you squeaked and shifted into a ferret again knowing it was Nat’s favourite based on her reaction earlier. You ran up and down the length of the couch before settling on the pillow. Nat and Wanda came and sat next to you and you got up and crawled over into Wanda’s lap chittering and walking in circles on her thighs before settling into a small puddle.

Wanda ran a hand through your soft fur as nat scrolled through Netflix to find something to watch. You started to doze again and Wanda chuckled.

“She sure does sleep a lot when she’s a ferret.” Wanda said.

“Yeah but its cute though so i’ll allow it.” Nat said and Wanda laughed again.

After picking something and settling down the three of you curled up together and you moved between the two of them over the course of the movie so they could both have turns to pat you. You knew it was therapeutic for them both as much as it was calming to have their hands running through your fur. When the movie finished Wanda picked you up carefully as you were sleeping and told nat she was going to go to be bed so you could take a nap while she read. Nat nodded and began looking for something else to watch. After Wanda left she got into bed and set you down on her chest as she picked up her book and started to read.

It had been maybe half an hour when she began to feel you twitch on her chest. Looking down she felt your breathing speed up as you began panting against her. She carefully ran a hand through your fur and you seemed to still before relaxing. After a moment you settled and sent back to a calm sleep.

Another fifteen minutes later you woke up a and Wanda smiled down at you. You crawled off her and shifted before burning your face in her arm and wrapping your arms around her. She scratched your head and smiled.

“Hey sleepy head how was you nap.” She asked and you yawned making her chuckle. “That good huh?” She grinned and you nodded against her arm.

“Well if you’d like to join me i was about to start making dinner soon my love.” She said and you nodded again. After she helped you off the bed you sleepily followed her to the kitchen where nat was sat drinking hot chocolate. Sensing something off with her Wanda started to cook and you shifted and crawled into her lap. Nat stroked your fur and looked at you with misty eyes and soon you were breathing was slow and rhythmic as you slept again. Nat chuckled.

“Your right wands i think being a ferret makes the little thing tired.” She said and Wanda laughed.

“Yeah she could use the sleep. I think it calms her down to be small and on top of someone it makes her feel safe and protected helps her sleep.” Wanda explained and nat smiled.

“Im glad she feels safe around us.” Nat said Wanda hummed an agreement.

“She loves you very much nat. You make her feel safe.” Wanda said and nat nodded. you let out a small squeaked of agreement in your sleepy state that made nat chuckle and scratch behind your tiny ears.

The next morning you woke and headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. you were in a bad mood. you hadn’t slept much and everything was either to bright or too loud. the sound of the coffee machine made you dig your nails into your palms to ground yourself. the lights seemed to bright over head and you desperately wanted to go back to bed but you knew it wouldn’t do anything. you couldn’t sleep. nightmares plagued every minute you weren’t awake and the only thing that seemed to stop them was being with either Nat or Wanda but you didn’t want to both them when you woke around three to a cold sweat and fast breathing. you only really slept for about two hours and now it was half past four and you needed some coffee.

when it finally was done you drank it quickly needing the kick to wake up. after a small breakfast of cereal it was now fifteen past five and nat wandered into the kitchen looking surprised. she was dressed in active wear obviously heading to the gym.

“Y/n? what are you doing awake?” she asked and began making her workout shake. you grunted and waved a hand dismissively already feeling annoyed without any real reason to be. Nat frowned and went to say something but you stood and left the kitchen. electing not to follow you nat headed off to the gym.

You needed some time alone. desperately. your social battery could only withstand so much and you had been living with the team for almost a week now. Your room seemed to easy, Wanda or Nat would come find you later and coax you out but that wasn’t what you needed right now. You had and idea and grabbed a hoodie from the drawer in your room. throwing it on and shoving your sketchbook and pencils plus some snacks and your phone in the black backpack you had by your desk you slipped down the hall almost silently. Once in the lift you asked Friday your burning question.

“Friday?”

“yes Ms L/n”

“is the treehouse still around?” you asked praying it would be.

“Tony Stark and Ms Y/n L/n’s tree house is still intact. Mr Stark his made improvements over the last few months in anticipation of your return.” Friday said and you grinned. Tony and you had built the tree house deep in the woods near the compound a long time ago and it had since become your safe haven. A place you could hide if you needed some space to yourself.

“what kind of improvements Fri?” you asked.

“Mr Stark has installed Myself into the house as well as a new Tv, Wifi, more snacks, updated lighting and a microwave.”

“um Fri?”

“yes Ms L/n?”

“can you hide my location from Wanda and nat please?” you asked, you wanted to keep this space a secret for as long as possible.

“yes Ms L/n however i cannot hide your location from Mr Stark.”

“thats ok Fri just Wanda and nat are fine for now.”

“ok Ms L/n”

you walked through the foyer and out the back door. Sure Tony had said not to leave without an escort because of HYDRA but this was different he would understand and the treehouse had almost as much if not more security measures as the compound, it was built by tony after all.

after the long walk you climbed the ladder up into the mossy tree. It was old and beautiful with the branches hiding the treehouse nicely. it was large to say the least as the tree was huge. tucked deep into the woods off the beaten path if you weren’t looking for it you would not find it by chance. climbing up into it you typed in a small code and pushed open the trap door and crawled into the space. the lights flickered on and it had defiantly been upgraded. it was a single room with a door to a small bathroom on one side. how tony had managed to get plumbing this far into the woods you didn’t know but you thanked him none the less. the room had a beanbag chair in the corner with a blanket and a pillow. on one wall was a flatscreen Tv. there was a counter that turned into a desk with three shelves above it for storage. a microwave was set into the wall and a cupboard was above it that supposedly held the snacks. the lights in the roof could be dimmed and the colour changed. large glass windows lines the walls looking through the branches into the surrounding woods. large curtains could be drawn and there was a small deck you could sit on with just enough room for about three people to sit on with their legs hanging off the edge.

throwing your backpack on the desk you started by investigating the snacks. tony had bought all your favourites and you mentally thanked him. pulling out some chocolate you dragged your backpack over to the beanbag and clicked on the TV. you put on your comfort show and threw the fluffy blanket over yourself and pulled out your sketchbook and pencils. this was what you needed. exactly what you needed. some off-grid time alone to recharge. A few hours passed and you had watched the sunrise through the windows.

MASTERLIST

108 notes · View notes

oh-hell-help-me · 1 year

Text

Day 3: Obsidian

The day they became friends was... interesting, to say the least.

For 'Official' reasons, Luigi was the Mushroom Kingdom's Diplomatic Representative personally escorted by Peach's Top Knight to "build relations between the two kingdoms and ensure that mutual interests are maintained through the exchange of information and goods".

For those who could see through the diplomatic balderdash, but are still onlookers, Luigi was the only Mushroom Kingdom Resident able (and willing) to cross into what used to be enemy territory, surrounded by strangers who are seen as aggressive and dangerous, and to do so with the intention of 'making nice' with both the temperamental royalty and the locals in the hopes of not facing a longer conflict. I.e. A reason to pity the 'poor man' who drew the short lot.

In reality?

Luigi.... might have more than an ounce of self-interest, going into the Koopa Kingdom.

Sure, he has no idea whatsoever of what exactly his duties would be as a diplomat.

Sure, he has no prior experience of being remarkably sociable, nevermind with KOOPAS.

Sure, he will be utterly lost without Peach's coaching or Mario's silent support.

But...

Maybe... Maybe he could do this. That he could make it easier for his friends -maybe even as he makes new friends.

...At least, it was easier to imagine, when everyone in the Darklands actually bothered to know his name. INCLUDING his two 'Personal Guards' (who both admit that it was more for appearance's sake than anything) named Clawthorne and Dagby.

Every day is filled with being escorted to the Meeting Room in the morning (after breakfast, of course), spending hours hashing out policies and advising Bowser (who is thankfully patient with him), enjoying a 'recess' that he spends exploring the village outside the castle (he was visiting bakeries, restaurants, and the odd recommended craft shop that the Mushroom Kingdom sorely lacked), and then returning to address Peach's written queries before heading back to his rooms where he can finally go to bed.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

And then Bowser decided to change that.

After the thirty-such recess, instead of simply staying within the boardroom, the king surprises everyone in the room (even the Sarasaland Ambassador) as he offers to escort Luigi to the Town Square.

The former(?) plumber said 'yes', of course, how could he not? Not when he's still unsure of where he fits into the new political schema. Not when there are literally over two dozen pairs of eyes watching him with expectations he couldn't guess....

Not when Bowser pinned him with a look that had suddenly, horribly reminded Luigi of That Moment.

It's with a thudding heart that he keeps quiet as they walk down the hall, out of the castle, into the town adjacent to the village, and into a crowded area full of vendors.

He barely holds back a squeak when he realizes how many people were staring, barely keeping up with the king who gently grabs his hand (why...?) and makes a beeline towards a vendor with... rocks?

As they come closer, Luigi realizes that those 'rocks' are in fact gemstones -maybe even common minerals as he spies a vacuating customer taking a lick of what seemed to be a large salt crystal.

And Bowser? He stops right in front of the vendor with familiarity, grinning as he greets them with a gruff 'hello'.

Their exchange is quick, but Luigi couldn't help but wonder what the cloth bundle -given to Bowser, maybe as a pre-made order- contained.

"Come here."

Luigi is suddenly picked up, feeling the ground leave his feet before being strewn across Bowser's forearm like an unruly child.

"W-wait! I can walk just fine- where are we going?!"

By the time he is able to squirm his way higher on the Koopa King's arm (don't think about it-), he realized that they were quickly leaving the square -towards the only 'park' within miles of the castle.

It's... nicer than expected, given that they're still in a volcanic valley, but he is still very much confused as Bowser doesn't answer him -only heading towards a strangely vacant hill with- with?

A picnic blanket?

He's put down on the blanket, barely registering the bundle placed in front of him as he watches the Koopa plop in front of him -arms crossed and face expectant.

Luigi could only look on in his confusion, looking around at the bundle, at Bowser, and back again before giving up on even trying to understand the situation.

".....wha-"

"I need your help."

.........

Apparently, with the new peace coming around for the Koopa Kingdom, the need for metal, and therefore mining, had plummeted to a 'historical low' that meant a surplus of now useless materials and ex-miners (including the vendor).

Now, he's been working on a problem with no immediate answer, especially since trade agreements are still ongoing for the Kingdoms.

"So... why ask me? W-why not the other ambassadors?"

Bowser growls, but snuffs it out quickly when Luigi visibly shrinks at the sound. He sighs.

"Honestly? You're one of the few ambassadors who actually appreciate what I -what we have here." He locks eyes with Luigi. "That, and you seem to know a bit about these."

And that is when he shows the items inside the bundle: raw ores that might be aluminum, bars of iron and copper, a sliver of obsidian, and even a jar of cobalt....

He doesn't empty the whole bag, but the pointed look Luigi is met with said enough already.

"I-I do know what they are- I sometimes, even use them but- but what could I even do to help?"

"I want to know how I can help my kingdom." The answer sends Luigi into silence. "I now have over a fourth of my people unemployed -financial support can only get so far before the economy goes to hell! I have nothing to offer for them, never mind other kingdoms!" The frustration sends Bowser into a continuous growl, but Luigi couldn't bring himself to be scared when that look in his eyes-

"I have no war to fund even a single paycheck!"

That growl became a roar, one that nearly blasts his eardrums, but the way Bowser seemed to deflate just as fast, clenching his fists...

"I can't fail them like this."

He looked vulnerable, for a single moment.

And that? It was the moment Luigi knew he was doomed.

It didn't matter that he felt like he could pass out from anxiety -the expectation that he will be able to answer this HUGE problem.

It didn't matter that he could refuse -and he COULD, because he had refused to be a 'personal messenger to Peach (surprising himself at how profusely bold he was in denying it) and having Bowser respect that.

It didn't matter that he was just as lost as he was.

All that mattered was that, for whatever reason the Koopa King may believe, he trusted him for advice -trusted him to lend help on something that might easily send the Koopa Kingdom into turmoil.

It's overwhelming, but Luigi couldn't help but draw strength from that as well.

"I'll do my best."

#bowuigi #KAIJUNE Prompt #HAPPY PRIDE MONTH #I'll continue on the next 'prompt'#rn i'm sleepy

103 notes · View notes

reidslovely · 1 year

Text

Sit With Me, Crawl Inside (Mob! Peter Parker)

Request: No

Description: After Peter throws himself into his work, he forgets to pull himself out. His fiancé has a plan how to join him in his office.

Genre: Smut(?) with angst. 18+

Content Warnings: Cock-warming, smut adjacent I guess no sex and no one finishes. Peter cries and some mention of murder. I wrote this very quickly and it’s just a cute little idea I had. I low-key hate it but I will not let it go to waste.

Reblog, and leave a comment if you feel like it.

_________

On the typical night when Peter came home the house would suddenly feel warm, filled with love. With (Y/N) rushing to him, the sound of her feet carrying her down the hall to the front door would echo. He would brace himself for impact, to grab her and spin her in his arms. Not tonight.

Tonight Peter carries himself through the door, the tie on his neck feeling like it is choking his last bit of life from him. Blood still splattered on his shirt and pants filled him with shame.

Tonight he shuts the door quietly, not wanting to alert her of his arrival.

Tonight he sulks past her, greeting her with just a kiss to her head.

Tonight Peter shuts his office door on her.

(Y/N) stood at the end of the hall, the heat still alive in her face from his fleeting kiss. She had only seen Peter like this once before, it was at the very start of their relationship. Before she knew what he did for a living.

Before she knew who Peter Parker was, and what that power does to people.

It was their fifth date, Peter was late and she was sitting on the boat alone. On her second glass of wine, watching the waves over the side of the boat. All these dates later, and he finally bailed. It was the screeching tires that drew her attention back over to the dock, Peter flung his body out of the black car apologizing profusely as he ran to her. Greeting her with the same fleeting kiss as a hello, before sitting across from her. She did most of the talking that night, noticing he seemed off his head rested against his fist as she spoke. He was lost, not in the story she was telling like he usually was- but in his own thoughts.

Peter assured her nothing was wrong, he was tired is all. Long day at the office. She bought it.

Until their date was cut short because of Peter snapping at what she believed to be a client on the phone. Muttering to her that some people can’t do their jobs and that he was really sorry as he arranged for his driver to take her home.

Now in this moment she listened to her instincts, she walked back up the staircase, taking a quick glimpse at Peter’s office door. He would have his few moments of anger, and join her for bed. When they woke up in the morning everything would be back to normal. Or so she hoped.

Hours passed, seven o’clock quickly turned into eleven and Peter was still not in bed. (Y/N) rolled herself over to Peter’s side of the bed, her face buried in his pillows. As she laid there she thought of everything that could have gone wrong for him to be so distant, even on his worst days since (Y/N) found out she knew everything and he never acted like this. She felt a presence at the door, she looked over her shoulder to see Peter now shirtless, in a clean pair of pants leaning in the doorframe.

“Do you wanna talk to me about it?” (Y/N) asks, her voice low similar to how her mother would comfort her. “I’ll listen.”

Peter only shook his head, swallowing hard. She opened her mouth to speak to him, hoping he’d come crawling into bed with her. Letting their bones intertwine, and settle into their cloud of comfort they built for each other. Instead, he pressed another light kiss to her cheek, grabbing her pillow from her side of the bed and a knitted blanket from the armchair.

“Lot’a work, gonna sleep in the office tonight.”

There was no way for her to refuse, for her to rebuttal, for her to beg him to stay. Not even the lingerie under her robe could tempt him, she bit down on the inside of her cheeks watching him leave.

“I love you.” (Y/N) says as he walks out. She could see Peter turn around in the dark of their hallway.

“I love you too.”

He disappeared down the stairs, and the shut of his office sealed the deal.

The house felt empty even with the two of them in the house. (Y/N) stood by Peter’s office door, the black silk of her robe still wrapped tightly around her body from her shower this morning. She held the plate of various breakfast foods making a bit of all of his favorites, wanting to get him to eat anything. Hesitantly she knocked on his office door before poking her head in, she leaned against the door frame waiting for his attention to be drawn back to her.

“Pete..”

Peter lifted his head looking at his wife, his eyes puffy and his face stained. He had been crying. “Peter..” Her voice was more gentle than the last, coaxing Peter to her. He stood from his chair, walking over to her. (Y/N) let him take the plate from her hands, sitting it on the small end table by the door. He pulled her body into his crying, his body shaking as he sobbed. (Y/N) wrapped him in his arms, letting him cry.

“I know baby, I know Pete.” She whispers against his chest, letting him hold her tighter. Not feeling close enough, knowing that if he could crawl inside her and rest it would bring him so much peace.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Peter lingered in her neck, nodding slowly after thinking he settled them down into the leather armchair, his hand firm on her back.

“I don’t know how it happened. I think everything through. I plan everything through. To the last fucking detail.” Peter spoke quietly, his thumb rubbing against her back. “I just..his wife walked in. She’s covered in his blood, and she is crying over his body. And.. and she just looked at me like I was the monster her husband was.” Peter’s voice shook, as tears started to pour down his face. (Y/N) wiped them slowly, her lips pressed to his temple as he held her impossibly close, his knuckle turning white where he gripped her thigh.

There was an intimacy Peter craved when he got like this, (Y/N) was never sure why. Her lips pressed against his cheek, as she rested against him. “You’re gonna look at me like that one day..” He whispers. “You’re gonna see me as the monster I am.”

“No, no. No Peter, I never would..” (Y/N) jumps to defend herself. “You are not a monster. You are a good man, you are doing what everyone else out there is too scared to do. Look at me, look at me Peter.” (Y/N) said, grabbing his face gently, wanting his undivided attention. “You are not a monster. You are the love of my life, you will never scare me.” She kissed him briefly, his hand trailing up her thigh touching her bare core, his fingers briefly trailing over.

“No, not like this Peter.” She says pushing his hand away, “not while you are so upset. It’s not fair to you.”

“Please, it’ll make me feel better.” He brushed his nose against her collar. “Won’t even fuck you, please I just need to feel you. Be inside you.” Peter’s beg wore her down, kissing his nose as she pulled his sweats down to where she can pull him out. Peter wrapping his larger hand around hers as she pulled his cock out of his pants, he pressed his ear against her chest listening to her heart flutter.

“I love you.”

(Y/N) says as she pumps him in her hand a couple times, smearing the warm pre cum around, making it easier for her to slide him into her.

“Promise?”

“Forever, through everything.”

She whispers back to him, her legs moving to straddle him. His hands fall to grip her thighs as she leads him into her. Both of their breaths hitch as she settles into his lap, his head dropping against her shoulder. His grip never loosened, as if he was scared she’d be ripped away from him if he even thought about it. (Y/N)’s head pressed into his hair, relaxing against him letting the comfort of being intertwined wash over them both.

_____________

@sincericida @helloheyhihowdyheya @bxcketbarnes @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @andrews-lovr @raajali3 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @a-lumos-in-the-nox @megmehz @eevylynn @messymissy

short tag list took some people out for inactivity or not allowing me to tag. if you want to be tagged in future pieces fill out the google forum in my pinned post or ask in the comments! love u 🤍

#tasm peter parker #tasm peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter smut #tasm peter x reader #tasm andrew garfield #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x reader #mob!peter parker #mob peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x self insert

222 notes · View notes

maccreadysbaby · 5 months

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: angst

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

a fun add-on that asten comes with is that to avoid vulnerability, every emotion turns into violent rage over time :) buy one get a nico free!

part twelve

❝ TARGETED ❞

SATURDAY — AUGUST 8 — 2:15AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP TUCKED INTO THE HOSPITAL BED WITH DICK. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he did vaguely recall Damian excusing himself from the medbay soon after Bentley started crying. (Which would have been humiliating, given that most of the family was down there, if he could remember any of it without a thick layer of brain fog.)

He was still being held in a patented Dick-Grayson-death-grip, similar to the aftermath of Dick’s nightmare. Everything felt a little bit lighter now. Different. Like Bentley wasn’t one verbal display of affection away from losing all self control and crumbling into a bunch of weepy pieces on the nearest available Wayne. He felt… pretty okay, at least right now, being held by someone who loved him for real.

The medbay had been emptied of it's inhabitants, all except for Bruce, who was still next to the hospital bed in a chair but… asleep? At least he looked asleep. It didn’t look very comfortable, actually, his head was down on his chest and his arms were crossed, but Bentley didn’t dare wake him. After all, Bruce had taken it upon himself to stay awake with Bentley ever since sleeping got hard, thanks to the Secret Keeper. And he probably needed it just as badly as Bentley did.

He wasn’t sure what time it was, but given the nap in the library earlier and however long he’d spent in the cave’s medbay, this was probably the most sleep he’d gotten since the whole nightmare incident. (Who knew all he needed was Jason and Dick to make it happen?)

It was probably past midnight, if Bentley had to guess. Some things in the cave looked moved around, and the Batcomputer was on, and he could see a few trackers bouncing around on it. Barbara wasn’t there, though. Bruce had called off patrol since Dick fell unconscious, but now it looked like he’d okayed it again. (Or maybe he didn’t know. Which was a good possibility, given the two trackers Bentley could see were gray and orange, which meant Tim and Cass. They were pretty sneaky when it came down to it, and Bruce had been caught up with Dick, but then again… Bruce was literally Batman.)

He didn’t think about it much, because then came the bane of his current existence, the reason he woke up in the first place.

He had to pee.

It took a few minutes, but Bentley wiggled himself out of Dick’s grip and off of the hospital bed with a big stretch, without waking him or Bruce. Dick was still attached to a few machines, but a couple of the wires and tubes had been taken off, and he looked… peaceful. It had been a while since he looked that way.

Bentley padded quietly across the cave, gazing at the batcomputer as he went by. The map looked different, like they weren’t exactly in Gotham. He furrowed his brows and stepped up to the desk, and scanning the aerial view map, he suddenly knew exactly where they were.

Why were Tim and Cass in Drew?

In an attempt to get closer, to see what buildings they were near and if he could remember them from his limited time outside of Whittaker Estate, he bumped the panel and the screen changed.

Instead of the map, several tabs came up, the largest of which looked like some sort of spreadsheet lined with names. At the top, it read: Case File 107A9, Potential Targets.

Beneath that was a list of forty-one names. (Bentley only knew that because they were numbered.) They were each highlighted with different colors, either green, yellow, or red. The key in the top corner said that green meant alive, yellow meant missing, and red meant dead.

Twenty-two of them were red. Seventeen of them were yellow. Two were green.

The only two names highlighted in green were Dick Grayson and Bentley Whittaker.

Out of all the people who’d seen the Secret Keeper, he and Dick were the only two left?

Each name on the list had an arrow beside it, and just out of curiosity, Bentley navigated down to his own and tapped it.

Night terror about the Secret Keeper — details not yet shared, no secondary sighting or dream. No concerning adverse effects.

He tapped on the name above his own for reference: Olivia Wright. It was yellow.

Dream of the Secret Keeper in different places around her home. Recorded sighting of the Secret Keeper in her yard the next morning. Olivia went missing as of eight pm that night — has yet to be found dead or alive.

He moved from hers to Dick’s.

Three days of unconsciousness following a face to face visual with the Secret Keeper. Unconsciousness was accompanied by hyper-realistic dreams; mostly regarding Bentley Whittaker and his previous homelife. All the events he experienced while unconscious have been confirmed to have happened in the same consecutive manner as his dreams. Grayson stated first-hand that it was “like being able to see someone else’s memories.” More research and interviews are to be done regarding that statement.

Bentley frowned. There was no telling what he’d seen if he had really been shown some of Bentley’s memories. Dick’s reaction when he came downstairs made a little more sense now, though.

He didn’t even try to make the tabs go away, in fear of screwing something up, instead he just left the computer as it was and ventured back up to the Manor. (Yeah, there was a bathroom in the cave, but he wanted to get his phone and answer Asten and Nico before they thought he was missing.)

So he went through the entryway, up the stairs, and into his room. The Manor was quiet. He guessed at least Damian and Duke were home and in bed, and Tim and Cass were gone. Maybe that meant Jason was upstairs, too? He wasn’t sure.

He had eighty-one unread messages.

He sent a quick im okay message to the group (they had indeed been talking about Bentley going missing.) and almost immediately, he got a text back from Asten. Which was confusing, given it was two-twenty-one am.

Bentley was all it said.

Yeah? Was what he texted back.

A few seconds later, his phone started ringing with Asten’s caller ID. He answered it and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Dude,” Asten sighed. It sounded like his breathing was a little off, like he was running or something.

“Are you okay?”

“I think I’m about to die,”

A surge of panic stabbed through Bentley’s chest. “What?”

“I’m walking to Nico’s and…” Bentley heard him curse under his breath, and the wind blew in the microphone and made a loud noise. “She’s staring at me.”

“Who?”

“The Secret Keeper,”

Bentley chewed on his lip. Well crap.

“How far are you? From Nico’s?” He tried, turning on his heel and retracing his steps back through the Manor.

“Like, an hour. I’m just getting to the edge of downtown,” Asten replied. “I had a dream. About her. I don’t… I guess leaving my apartment was dumb but… Nico wouldn’t pick up, and I didn’t…”

Bentley ran a hand through his hair, jogging into Bruce’s office and through the door hidden behind the grandfather clock.

“Oh-oh my God. She’s coming,”

“I’m getting Bruce. Is… there somewhere you can go? A restaurant?”

The muffled sound of wind and heavy footfalls echoed from the other end. “Everythings closed,” He responded, panic evident in his tone. “Bentley, she’s following me.”

Bentley pushed the close door button on the elevator and begged it to move faster. Asten muttered something in Portuguese. He couldn’t tell exactly, but it sounded like merda, merda, merda.

“Oh my God,”

“I’m getting Bruce,” Bentley replied, as if that would be very much help. The elevator let him out and he double-timed it down the stairs, skipping a few and nearly falling flat on his face before he made it into the cave. He jogged into the medbay, careful not to be too loud. Dick and Bruce were still asleep, but it didn't matter, his footfalls woke Bruce when he got near anyways.

“Bentley,” He glanced around with a few blinks. “What’s going on?”

“Asten, the Secret Keepers chasing him,” Bentley replied in a rush, holding the phone toward Bruce. “He’s on the phone.”

Bruce took the little device without hesitation, rising from his chair and walking out of the medbay. “Asten? This is Bruce. Can you tell me where you are?”

Heavy breaths came from the other side. “I-I’m on the edge of downtown, uh… there’s… there’s a library.”

Bruce made his way to the batcomputer and made the tabs disappear in an instant. The map expanded and as he typed, pins appeared on all the libraries. “Gotham Library? Whitehouse Library?”

“Whitehouse,” Asten replied with a shaky exhale. “Mr. Wayne, I had a dream about her. I-I think she’s going to kill me.”

“I’m coming to get you, okay? Go inside a public place if you can,” Bruce ordered. He typed a few more buttons and a red, flashing tracker appeared on the map near the Whitehouse library pin. He muted the call so Asten couldn’t hear what he was saying and put Bentley’s phone on the desk.

“Everything’s closed!” Asten replied. Bruce said nothing, but opened a drawer and pulled out an earpiece, shoving it in his ear. “Red Robin, Orphan, can you hear me? Facial recognition has picked up the Secret Keeper south of you, and she’s pursuing a child.”

A silent moment passed, and Bentley crossed his fingers.

“I hear you, B! Send coordinates!” Tim’s voice came back almost immediately.

Bentley watched Bruce unmute Asten’s call. “I’m on my way, just keep moving, and look for a place to go inside of or a person you can tell.” Then he muted it again. “Sending coordinates.”

A ding erupted from the computer. “Got them! Going now. You meeting us there?”

“Yes, but I’ll be in my civilian clothes. The boy being pursued is Bentley’s friend, and I’m going to pick him up from you.”

“Don’t hang up!” Asten shouted.

“Okay. We’re on our way,” Tim clarified.

“Leaving the computer, keeping my comm,” Bruce stated. He un-muted the call again. “We’re not hanging up, I’m on my way, okay?”

Bentley glanced up at the screen, watching the gray and orange trackers moving at a steady, quick pace toward the flashing red one.

“Please hurry,”

Bruce made for the stairs and Bentley stayed on his heels, following him up and into the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, Alfred was entering the office.

Bentley’s nerves were buzzing like bees in his veins. How many more people was the Secret Keeper going to take?

“Is something amiss, Master Bruce? I swore I heard someone running through the house,”

“Yes,” Bruce replied, muting the call again. “The Secret Keeper is chasing down one of Bentley’s friends. Red Robin and Orphan are already on their way. Would you mind taking Bentley and going back downstairs with Dick?”

“Of course,” Alfred replied. Bentley furrowed his brow, jogging behind Bruce as he made for the door of the office.

“But I want to go with you!” He exclaimed. He wasn’t really sure why he wanted to go with him. The Secret Keeper was terrifying, and he never wanted to see her in his life. But something about Asten, the same fiery-eyed Brazilian that had knocked out the school's worst bully with a textbook not twelve hours ago, being so scared and hopeless on the phone made him feel like he should go.

Bruce glanced back at him momentarily, and his eyes flicked to Alfred, too. “It’s too dangerous, bud. I can't risk getting you near her.”

Bentley deflated. “But I… want to go, Bruce. Please let me come. I won’t get out of the car.”

“Bentley-“

“Please?”

For a solid five seconds, they stared at each other.

“She’s getting closer,” Asten said from the phone. “She’s coming.”

“Tim and Cass will already be there, it’ll be fine, he’ll be expecting me to come,” Bentley reasoned.

“I’m coming, Asten,” Bruce said into the phone, only unmuting it long enough to say that. Then he muted it again. “Bentley.”

They stared at each other again, long and hard, and finally, something inside of Bruce caved. He huffed lightly and turned on his heel toward the front door. “Fine. But you’re not getting out of the car, period.”

“Okay,” Bentley replied, jogging behind him. (He suddenly walked really fast.)

They made for the garage and got in the car in mere seconds (Bentley wasn’t even wearing shoes.), and they left the Manor immediately. Bentley had hardly finished buckling himself into the passenger's seat before they were pulling out.

“Where are you now, Asten?” Bruce questioned, putting Bentley’s phone in a little holder on his dash.

“Going around the library,”

He muted it again, and brought a hand up to his earpiece. “Red Robin, how far are you from the location?”

“Four minutes!” Bentley vaguely heard Tim’s voice from the little speaker in Bruce’s ear. He put the library on the car’s GPS, and they were fifteen minutes out.

The drive passed in a flash. Bentley’s brain was spinning, spinning, and Bruce was talking to Tim and then talking to Asten and somehow making sure Asten never heard him talking to Tim, while driving at the same time, and it was kind of blowing his mind. (But what else should he have expected from Batman?)

He only came back to reality when the call with Asten suddenly ended, and Tim’s voice came: “I’ve got the kid. He’s shaken up, but uninjured. Secret Keeper is nowhere to be found.”

“Keep him with you until I get there,” Bruce responded. Bentley watched the streetlights pass in blurs as they drove, anxiously tapping his legs until they finally pulled up in front of Whitehouse Library.

Bruce pulled Bentley’s phone from the holder and navigated to the contacts. He tapped on Asten’s and hit the call button. It rang once, twice.

“Mr. Wayne?”

“Asten? We're at the library.”

“Okay, I… I’m coming. Uh, Red Robins here, so… he’s coming, too.” Asten replied.

Bentley saw them round the corner of the big white library. Asten had his phone pressed to his ear (Bentley pretended he couldn’t see it shaking from the car.) and Red Robin was next to him, with an arm around his shoulders.

“Alright. I see you,” Bruce replied, and the call ended.

The pair approached the vehicle, and Bentley couldn’t really tell what anyone was saying, but Tim talked to Bruce for a moment. Bentley unbuckled and climbed over the center console into the backseat.

It wasn’t a moment later and Bruce took Asten by the shoulder and brought him around to the backseat on the left, popping the door open so he could climb in. He was shaking, and breathing really hard. It was nearly freezing outside, but given that he’d just been chased by a supervillain and kidnapper, Bentley assumed the trembling wasn’t just from the cold. He was crying, too — only a little bit. Every ounce of confidence and carefree calmness he normally carried with him was gone.

Bruce closed his door, and turned to speak to Tim.

Bentley just watched Asten closely, debating on whether he should say something or not. After a few moments of contemplation, he settled on resting a hand on his right shoulder. He flinched.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He muttered quietly. Asten shook his head no, bringing his hands up to wipe at his eyes with the sleeves of his jacket.

Bruce popped his door open and climbed back in the car, turning to look at them both. His grayish eyes flicked between them for a few moments before he questioned:

“You’re okay, Asten? Not hurt at all?”

“I’m fine,” Asten sniffed. His voice was shaking just like his breaths had been. “Once Red Robin showed up she just kind of disappeared, I...”

Bentley watched with terrible pity as Asten scrubbed at his face, trying to wipe off the tears that were still rapidly falling.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m just glad you’re not hurt,” Bruce stated, turning and buckling up. “Why were you out walking this late, bud?”

Asten sniffled, staring down at his jeans. “Just… uh… I had a dream. About her. And my uncle is out of town working and I… didn’t want to be by myself. I was going to Nico’s.”

Bruce nodded in sympathy. “You’ve been home alone?”

Asten nodded.

“Alright. In that case, how would you feel if I took you back to the Manor with us? Or would you rather me take you to Nico’s house?”

A moment of silence passed. “Manors fine.” Asten said, probably because he didn’t want to wake up Nico’s whole family in the middle of the night, too.

“Alright,”

The vehicle fell quiet, all except Asten’s occasional little hiccups and sniffles. Bentley wished he could make it all go away — he hated when people cried.

“Do you want a hug?” He whispered. (What? He didn’t know much else that he could provide.)

It took a moment of consideration, but after a few seconds, Asten’s head came to rest on his left shoulder.

It wasn’t really a hug, but it was what Asten wanted, and that was fine. He saw Bruce’s eyes flick to them in the rearview mirror.

Bentley sucked in a breath. “I had a dream about her, too. That’s why I didn’t come to school.” He admitted quietly.

He felt Asten’s head move slightly. “Have you seen her since?”

Bentley shook his head. “No.”

A moment of silence passed.

“I hate her,” Asten hissed. “I want my face to be the last thing she ever sees.”

Bentley drew in a breath.

Taking down the Secret Keeper would pretty much be a one-way-ticket into deserving to be a Wayne.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

38 notes · View notes

perspectivestarters · 8 months

Text

Perspective's Sentence Starters; GUTS by Olivia Rodrigo (Part II)

LOGICAL

God, you're so good at what you do.

I'd put myself through hell for you.

I fell for you like water falls from the February sky.

No, I couldn't get out if I tried.

It was all in my mind.

I'm the love of your life.

No, love is never logical.

You built a giant castle with walls so high I couldn't see.

And all the things you did to me...

The sky is green, the grass is red, and you mean all those words you said.

I'm sure that girl is really your friend.

Our problems are all solvable.

Loving you is loving every argument you held over my head.

You brought up the girls you could have instead.

Said I was too young, I was too soft.

Said I can't take a joke, can't get you off

Oh, why do I do this?

I know I'm half responsible and that makes me feel horrible.

I know I could've stopped it all.

God, why didn't I stop it all?

GET HIM BACK!

I met a guy in the summer, and I left him in the spring.

He argued with me about everything.

He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye.

He said he's six-foot-two, and I'm like, "Dude, nice try".

He was so much fun.

He had such weird friends.

He would take us out to parties, and the night would never end

When hе said something wrong, he'd just fly me to Francе.

I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed.

I remember every time he made a pass on my friend.

Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down.

I wanna get him back.

I wanna make him really jealous.

I wanna make him feel bad.

I really miss him, and it makes me real sad.

I want sweet revenge.

I write him all these letters.

I miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh.

Everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do.

He said I was the only girl, but that just wasn't the truth.

When I told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me I was trippin'.

I am my father's daughter.

Maybe I could fix him.

I wanna key his ca.

I wanna make him lunch.

I wanna break his heart, then be the one to stitch it up.

Wanna kiss his face with an uppercut.

I wanna meet his mom just to tell her her son sucks.

I'll get him back.

I'm gonna get him so good, he's not even gonna know what hit him.

He's gonna love me and hate me at the same time.

Get him back, girl.

You better get him back!

I got him really good.

LOVE IS EMBARRASSING

I told my friends you were the one after I'd known you, like, a month.

Then you kissed some girl from high school?

I stayed in bed for, like, a week when you said space was what you need.

Waited by my phone like a goddamn fool.

Now it don't mean a thing.

God, love's fuckin' embarrassing.

Watch as I crucify myself for some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning.

I consoled you while you cried over your ex-girlfriend's new guy.

My God, how could I be so stupid?

You found a new version of me and I damn near startеd World War III.

Jesus, what was I even doing?

I give up everything.

I placed my bets, and it's not worth anything.

I keep coming back for more.

I'm planning out my wedding with some guy I'm never marrying.

THE GRUDGE

I have nightmares each week.

One phone call from you and my entire world was changed.

Took everything I loved and crushed it in between your fingers.

I doubt you ever think about the damage that you did.

I hold onto every detail like my life depends on it.

My undying love, now, I hold it like a grudge.

I hear your voice every time that I think I'm not enough.

I try to be tough, but I wanna scream.

How could anybody do the things you did so easily?

You know I can't let it go.

I've tried for so long.

It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong.

The arguments that I've won against you in my head.

I fantasize about a time you're a little fuckin' sorry

I try to understand why you would do this all to me.

You must be insecure, you must be so unhappy.

We both drew blood, but, man, those cuts were never equal.

Do you think I deserved it all?

You built me up to watch me fall.

You have everything, and you still want more.

But even after all this, you're still everything to me.

I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine.

It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet.

PRETTY ISN'T PRETTY

I bought a new prescription to try and stay calm.

There's always somethin' missing.

There's always somethin' in the mirror that I think looks wrong.

When pretty isn't pretty enough, what do you do?

I'd always feel the same.

Pretty isn't pretty enough anyway.

You can win the battle, but you'll never win the war.

You fix thе things you hated, and you'd still feel so insecure.

I try to ignorе it, but it's everything I see.

It's on the poster on the wall, it's in the shitty magazines.

It's in my phone, it's in my head, it's in the boys I bring to bed.

I don't know why I even try.

I bought all the clothes that they told me to buy.

I chased some dumb ideal my whole fucking life.

None of it matters.

You just feel like shit over and over again.

It'll never change.

TEENAGE DREAM

When am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise?

When am I gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys?

When am I gonna stop being great for my age and just start being good?

When will it stop being cool to be quietly misunderstood?

Got your whole life ahead of you.

I fear that they already got all the best parts of me.

I'm sorry that I couldn't always be your teenage dream.

When does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough?

When will everyone have every reason to call all my bluffs?

When are all my excuses of learning my lessons gonna start to feel sad?

Will I spend all the rest of my years wishing I could go back?

They all say that it gets better.

It gets better the more you grow.

But what if I don't?

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #exodusmusing #*mystarters #*guts

15 notes · View notes

sallysgrancanwrite · 2 months

Text

Chapter Seventy-Three

Masterlist

On Saturday Edith and the girls went and picked up some steaks and a few other things they would need for the BBQ tonight. When they got home Edith started making a batch of baked beans. The girls make a strawberry pie for dessert.

Around 4:30 Edith stuck the potatoes in the oven to bake. Alan would be there by 5:30. Bob got the grill started and got ready to put the steaks on as soon as it got hot enough.

At almost exactly 5:30 the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it Momma.” said Emma.

Emma liked Alan. He played with and treated her nice.

“Hi," said Emma. When she opened the door.

“Hi Emma. How are you tonight?” Alan asked her.

“I’m good. Would you like to see what I drew?” Emma asked.

“Sure.” said Alan who smiled at Chloe, as he was dragged to the kitchen by Emma.

“That’s a pretty picture. Who is in the picture?” He asked Emma.

“That’s me and Momma.” She answered. Do you like it?”

“It’s very pretty. You draw very nice.” Alan said.

“Would you like some coffee?” asked Chloe.

“Sure, that would be great.” He answered.

Bob walked in a met Alan and shook hands.

“Why don’t you come out and helped me on the grill. We got some steaks and corn on the cob to put on the grill.” Bob told him.

“I would love to. Sound really good. I’m drooling already.” He laughed.

An hour later everything was ready. They sat down at the dining room table. They only used the dining room with guests. It was too formal for everyday.

As they ate they all got to know Alan a little bit more.

“I hear you’re a banker in Pearlhaven.” said Bob. “Do you enjoy it?” He asked Alan.

“I really do. I love numbers so this job is perfect for me.” Alan answered.

They all finished eating and Chloe noticed Emma looking sleepy.

“Come on bug, let’s get you to bed. It’s past your bedtime.” Chloe said.

“Can’t I stay up a little bit longer?” asked Emma.

“No, it’s getting late. Go take Mimi out one more time.” Chloe told her.

“Okay.” said Emma with a pout.

“No pouting.” said Chloe. “Hurry and I’ll read to you.”

Emma ran to take Mimi out. She loved her Momma reading to her. She hurried and came back in to get her pjs on.

“I’m ready,” said Emma at the top of the stairs.

“I’ll be right there honey.” Chloe said, helping clear the plates away.

Chloe went upstairs and tucked Emma in then sat on the bed to read a chapter of Black Beauty to her. When they were done she gave Emma a kiss.

“I love you, bug.” said Chloe.

“Love you too Momma, goodnight.”

“Good night.” Chloe replied.

Chloe went back downstairs to help finish doing dishes.

“They are all done,” said Edith. “Beth and I loaded the dishwasher.”

“I guess I was gone longer than I thought.” Chloe said. “Where’s Alan?” She asked.

“Bob has him in the garage showing his woodworking projects.” laughed Edith.

“Oh, poor Alan. He’ll be there awhile. Maybe we should rescue him.” Chloe giggled.

Just then Bob and Alan came in from the garage.

“Bob showed me the new cabinets he’s building. They are beautiful.” said Alan.

“Bob is good at stuff like that. I always tell him he should have done it for a living instead of being an electrician.” said Edith.

“Let’s play some cards,” said Bob. “Do you know how to play spades, Alan?” asked Bob.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” answered Alan.

They all sat down and Bob and Edith brought all a drink.

“What do you drink Alan?” asked Edith.

“I’ll take a whiskey and 7-up if you have it.” answered Alan.

“Yes we do.” said Edith.

They finished serving drinks and sat down to play. They played until very late into the night and had a great time.

“Well, I should get home.” said Alan “I had a great time though.”

“You are welcome anytime. We play every Saturday night.” said Bob.

“It was nice meeting you” said Edith.

“Nice meeting all of you," said Alan. “Good night”.

“After he left they cleaned everything up and all headed to bed.

“What a nice man.” said Bob. “He needs to come over more often.

#original fiction #original story #writeblr

3 notes · View notes

wheredafandomat · 2 years

Text

The Country Club ✨

Loki x female reader

Part 9 ~ Revelations

Previous Part

“You’re so annoying.” You sighed, falling limp in Lokis grip as he continued to carry you to where you could only assume was his room.

“Whatever you say miss.” He answered with a smug smile still parading you around.

“Once you put me down I’m going to run.” You warned.

“I guess I’ll just have to chase you then.” He answered, opening his door before putting you down. You rolled your eyes at him as you faced him, once again properly seeing him up close. Handsome as always.

“Go on then speak.” You tutted.

“Well I—” he began.

“So you’re not really with Darcy?” You interrupted.

“No I—”

“So then what was all that lovey dovey shit?” You quipped.

“All to make you jealous.” He admitted, fitting Bucky and Darcy’s earlier narrative.

“Why, why couldn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?”

“Because I knew that after all this time you wouldn’t be willing to hear me out.” He answered.

“I’m listening now.”

“Only because I stole you away.” He smirked.

“Fair.”

“I knew that if you were jealous, you’d probably confront me and then I’d use the situation to my advantage and speak to you.” He explained.

“Fine. Then why did you both look so in love?” You asked, knitting your brows, there was no way that could have been acting. Did Loki truly think you were that stupid? Instead of answering, he just grinned. “I’m not laughing Loki.” You stressed causing his grin to widen. Fucking prick.

“I wanted to press your buttons.” He finally answered, eyes running over your body.

“Well consider my buttons pressed.” You scolded.

“Oh come on y/n, you can’t possibly think I like Darcy.”

“Well what else am I to think when you enter every room with her hanging off your arm?” You said, raising your voice.

“Fine.” He breathed, stepping closer to you “for arguments sake, let’s say I am with her. What does that mean for us?” He asked lowly, seductively. Sooo annoying.

“There is no us, there hasn’t been an us for a while. You made sure of that when you left.” You fumed, prodding him in the chest with your finger.

“My greatest mistake.”

“So why did you do it?” You sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed.

“I told you, I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” You delved further.

“Love, commitment.” He listed.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He dismissed.

“Why Loki.” You asked again, stepping towards him “please.”

Taking your hand in his, Loki looked up at you as you stood between his legs looking down at him trying to work out what he was thinking from his expression. It was saddened, downcast. His gaze flicked from yours to your hand in his where it stayed for a few moments. His thumbs drew small circles over your hand as a silence settled between you both. Using your finger, you tilted his chin upwards so that his gaze could focus on you again. Once your eyes met, you spoke again.

“Why?” He didn’t reply. Taking a deep breath, you withdrew your hand from his before spinning on your heels to leave.

“BECAUSE OF HER!” He exclaimed causing you to pause.

“Her?” You choked, not daring to turn to face him. Who was her?

“There was someone, someone years before you and I—I loved her very much but it didn’t work out and that’s it.” He answered before clearing his throat.

“What happened?“ you murmured, slowly turning to face him again.

“Nothing y/n.”

“Tell me.”

“She died.” He answered simply.

“W—what?” You sniffled. Loki had a dead ex you had never heard about and no one thought to tell you. Not even Thor.

“That’s it.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

The silence was suffocating as you faced him. Instead of looking at you, Loki was looking towards the ground. You didn’t know what to do so you relied on your instincts. Stepping back towards Loki you took your position, standing between his legs again before wrapping your arms around him. Resting his cheek against your abdomen, he wrapped his arms around your torso, hugging you back.

“She was very sick before she passed. I promised I’d never fall in love again but then I met you. You made me feel things I hadn’t felt in forever and I hoped you didn’t feel the same. You feeling the same meant that we could have had something and having something felt like a betrayal to her. When you said you loved me I flaked I got scared and I left.” He explained as you soothingly rubbed his back.

“Betraying her?” You uttered “what about me? My feelings?” You continued only being met with silence. “Loki, I’m sorry I really am but I can’t compete with a dead girl.” You sniffled before stepping out of his embrace and leaving the room.

Slightly insensitive, you knew that but you continued to walk away, wiping tears that had spilt. You didn’t know if they were your own or if you were crying for Loki. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall back into the trap of loving him if he didn’t want to love you back. The tears grew heavier as the realisation of not being enough tore through you. You half expected him to chase you but he didn’t. You had to leave, had to go home this was all too much. Seeing Loki was too much. Learning about his past was too much.

Tags:

@howdidurhammergrowchris

@michelleleewise

@pure-fvcking-hatred

#loki x reader #tom hiddelston loki #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #loki angst #loki #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson

67 notes · View notes

simonsrosebud · 1 year

Text

@queenofcrazy27 Some high school Jack Young excerpts!!

(AFTER MOVING INTO TEMPORARY FOSTER CARE)

Jack stayed home while Ryan and Lindsay took the twins and Drew to the park. The thought of talking with them while the kids weren’t around was exhausting, he’d been avoiding having to do so for the past two weeks.

Instead, he put earbuds in and grabbed his stick. Ryan had a lacrosse rebounder in the backyard from when Katie used to play, though Jack didn’t think he mentioned her playing in college. Why waste the money on something so big?

And why choose lacrosse over exy?

With his music blasting it was impossible to hear a car pull into the driveway, or someone shouting Anyone home? through the front door.

If he’d turn away from the rebounder he’d see a tall brunette watching through the kitchen window. She slid the back door open and leaned against the door frame.

When Katie was told that her parents had gotten a foster placement, she assumed it would be a kid. Singular, and under the age of eight. She wasn’t expecting three kids to drop in. And she surely didn’t think she’d ever share a wall with a seventeen year old boy.

Jack slammed his ball into the rebounder until he lost control of it, and threw his stick down as he turned. He wanted to go home. Where there was no rebounder, no father figure in the household, and no social worker invading his life and personal space. He didn’t want to say that he regretted his decisions, but that was before he was basically forced to do it. How was he supposed to know how his mother was doing without being there? He didn’t trust other people to help her get better.

Jack jumped at the movement in the corner of his eye. He ripped his ear buds out. “Who are you?”

She stood a little straighter but didn’t uncross her arms. “Katie. I’m Ryan and Lindsay’s daughter.” They’d told Jack and his siblings about their daughter, but he thought she wasn’t coming home until the winter. “Who are you?”

“Jack,” he said. Jack picked up his stick and put his ear buds back in, and scooped up another ball. He lodged it at the rebounder and jumped to catch it, then spun from the force of it and shot the ball again. He caught it and let it drop to the ground. Before he could pick up another he just barely heard Katie speak.

He took one ear bud out. “What?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You play at school?” He pursed his lips and nodded. “Cool. Wanna order food? I’m hungry.”

Jack glanced between her and the rebounder. “Is that allowed?”

She turned back to him where she had a hand on the door handle. “Is what allowed?”

Katie frowned to herself on the way inside. “Ordering food? Yeah?”

Jack sighed and followed her inside.

For the week that Katie was home, she made it her mission to befriend Jack. She didn’t have much else to do.

Jack didn’t take a liking to her until the third day she was home. He couldn’t sleep in the too quiet house in his too nice room. He wanted his bed at home.

So he tried sneaking out. And as quiet as he was, Jack still got caught.

Katie was in the kitchen on her laptop as he snuck down the stairs, and stood when he headed for the door. “What are you doing?”

Jack jumped and froze with his hand on the handle. He thought about it for a second, and decided he didn’t care to lie. “Going home for the night.”

She walked slowly towards him. “I’m guessing you’re not allowed to do that if you’re sneaking out… Poorly, might I add.”

He scoffed. “Whatever.” He yanked the door open and left.

Katie went after him. “Jack, it’ll take you forever like that!” She stood in front of him and held onto his bike handles before he could climb on.

“Move.”

“No. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.”

“Leave me alone.”

“No,” she grunted as he tried moving out of her way. “You’re gonna get in trouble, you’re gonna get your mom in trouble!”

He stopped at that and leveled her with a stare. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Yes I do. Hello, who do you think their first foster kid was?”

Jack froze, surprised and suddenly more interested in what she was saying. “What?”

“I was only a baby, and got adopted a year later, but my birth mom killed herself when I was a baby and my dad just couldn’t provide for us, so he did some illegal stuff that got him locked up instead. He gave up his parental rights so I could have a normal life. It’s what your mom’s doing in a way, letting you guys stay here and be normal until she can get back on track.” She dropped her arms. Please don’t run.

Jack pulled his lips to a thin line. As inspiring as some may have thought, he wasn’t moved by her speech. He swung a leg over his bike and let it fall to the ground. He took a step towards the house, then swiveled around and pointed a finger at her. “We are not the same- You don’t know shit about me and my family. Don’t pretend that you do,” he said, and stomped back into the house- this time with no attempt at being silent.

(MOVING BACK HOME)

Jack was excited to move back home, but when they did he had a few realizations. The first, was that he felt like he was babysitting his mother, which she did not like. She was stable and steady, but he’d spent too long playing grown up that he didn’t trust her anymore. As much as he wanted to have faith in her, he kept thinking ‘what if’?

He kept worrying she’d forget to pick the kids up at school. Every time he saw her sitting on the couch his mind went right to the worry that she was depressed again, or that she’d lost motivation. When he was at Exy he wondered what was for dinner and then wondered if she made something- if she even remembered that Tristan was allergic to bananas. For the first few weeks he double checked that his siblings had snacks in their bags for school.

Secondly, he hated their house.

It wasn’t any different than when he left, only a little more cluttered. What was different was that he suddenly couldn’t stand his mother coming in and out of his room to use the washing machine. He wasn’t used to the creak of the floors upstairs anymore, nevermind the laundry, and hated that he barely had any privacy. He missed the roof outside his window at Ryan and Lindsay’s, and having Katie next door when she was home for breaks. He missed being able to lock the door during the day when he was in a mood and the big backyard with the rebounder, and that Ryan was good at math and helped him with his work.

He missed not worrying about his siblings schedules and if they had everything they needed. Their car was left with his mother, since it was in her name, but Jack missed knowing he’d have a ride home from his Exy games because Ryan went to every one.

He wanted so badly to be normal. To have a normal family again and a father figure who cared, a mother figure who never had him worrying. He didn’t even realize how much he did worry about stuff until CPS forced him into Ryan and Lindsay’s home in the first place.

The third realization he had was that his relationship with his mother was practically ruined.

The love was there. The care was there. But Jack caught himself being irritated and annoyed with her more than he cared to admit. She was awkward around him because she was trying to make things up, or he was awkward around her because they both knew he was the one who called CPS. And on top of it all, after having a period of normalcy a part of him hated her and his father for robbing him of that, despite knowing that it wasn’t her fault she had a mental disorder. Just like it wasn’t either of their faults that his dad was a dick.

It didn’t take him long to recognize this, but when he did he hid out in his room for the most part. It took him two weeks of being home to take a different route home from Exy practice.

Lindsay opened the door with surprise and took a step outside to hug the sweaty athlete. “How are you, sweetheart?” She pulled away with her hands on his shoulders. “How's being home?”

He caught himself smiling, but not because of her questions. It just felt normal, being there. He hated himself for preferring it.

“It’s alright. Kinda weird.”

She nodded and opened the door wider to follow him inside. “Can’t imagine. Does your mom like her job?”

He followed her into the kitchen where she was prepping dinner. “Did you have foster kids before us?”

She turned. She wasn’t quite frowning, but there was a pull between her eyebrows. “One other before you guys. Why?”

Something about the way Jack stood in her kitchen made her guide him to sit at the table. She sat across from him. “Jack,” she said softly. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing bad, it’s just…” He put his face in his hands and huffed. “I fucked up everything, it feels so weird living there, now.”

“Why, honey?” She moved to sit beside him instead and put a hand on his back. “Jackson, look at me.” It took him a second, but he eventually pulled his head up and looked at her. “You did nothing wrong. You kept your siblings safe, and as a result your mom got healthy again. What feels weird about living there?”

He shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t… It was just easier here. I feel like I’m always worrying if she’s gonna fuck up again or go down the rabbit hole. I love her, but just being around her knowing she fucked up so bad makes me… like… angry, or something.”

She hummed. “Is your therapist still covered by insurance?” He nodded. “Will you start going again, then?” He opened his mouth to argue. “I know, but these are things she can answer and help you with. I’m not gonna tell you this whole back and forth transition is easy, it’ll probably suck for a bit, but you have people at your back. Me and Ryan are always close by, too. Don’t think just ‘cause you don’t live here anymore means we don’t care about you guys. I love you like my own, no matter how much you absolutely reek.”

Jack laughed a little and jostled her shoulder with a hey.

“Use us, please, Jack. Mom needs babysitters, someone needs a ride somewhere, or you just wanna come over and hang, whatever.” She gave hum a pointed look. “Okay?”

Feeling better, his lips quirked up. “Kay,” he mumbled. He watched her stand and let her shake his head and kiss the top of it. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“What is it?”

“Chicken kabobs, mashed potatoes and corn.”

“Do I still have to set the table if I technically don’t live here?” Lindsay laughed. “I’m technically a guest.”

“Uh, yeah, no. Go shower first, I’ll even leave the table empty just for you.”

He nearly hopped over the bannister jogging up the stairs, and took them two at a time until he reached the top. Katie’s door was cracked open, so it was easy for him to shove his way inside and jump on her bed, jolting her phone from her hand. “Ew! Get the fuck off, you smell like death!”

Jack rolled on top of her, to which she screamed under her blanket and faked gagging noises. He sat up after enough torture and stood. “Miss me? When do you go to school?”

Katie glared at him. “Two weeks. It boggles my mind how early you guys start Exy.”

“Just summer sessions. Tryouts are next week, then we’ll start scrimmages and stuff for real.”

She hummed. “Have you heard from any schools yet?” Jack’s smile faltered just enough for her to notice. “We’ll figure it out.” She shot him the least pitying smile she could manage and watched him walk down the hall to the bathroom.

The next time Katie asked about college scouts and Exy recruiters, it was when she was home for winter break. Except then it wasn’t because she had faith in these big fancy schools, but because she was waiting desperately for a call from David Wymack. Not to her, but to Jack.

David Wymack was the coach of the Palmetto State University Foxes, a Class 1 Exy team that hadn’t deserved the title until this year. Dead last every season since they were formed because the coach recruited athletes who had no chance of going anywhere else. It wasn’t the fate she necessarily saw for Jack, but considering the schools that had come to watch him pulled out because he needed a full ride they couldn’t offer.

With Kevin Day and this new Neil Josten on the line, though, the Foxes had been the talk of the Exy world all season. Katie didn’t know enough about Exy and couldn’t follow a game other than if the ball was going in the right way, but she knew this much: Kevin Day was the best of the Exy world, Jack had the background to qualify as one of these Foxes, and David Wymack was looking for strikers.

#jackyoung #the cards we’re dealt #aftg #kevin day #the foxhole court #exy #palmetto state university #all for the game

10 notes · View notes