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kittwix · 2 months

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First Kiss with the Joestars

Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, Giorno Giovanna, Jolyne Cujoh, Johnny Joestar, Josuke Higashikata (Gappy), Jodio Joestar x Neu! Reader

word count: 5.4k , it's long if you read all of their parts >_<

tags: very sweet; cavity inducing fluff, jodio is a little mean, reader stand isnt specify or implied, reader is gender neutral!

Jonathan Joestar

Your suspicion grew when he had invited you for a picnic out to the vineyard. He had made it obvious that he liked being around you, even at the times when he would be practicing for his Rugby tournaments, he would always encourage you to be there to cheer him up.

He would have everything all planned out, he had his maids prepare the basket for him and even went ahead to pack some of his favorite lunch items; resisting the urge to just eat them right then and there before he could meet up with you.

Upon meeting, he gracefully held the basket with one hand, offering his other arm for you to grasp. He greeted you with a kiss on the back of your hand, a faint blush gracing his cheeks, eliciting a chuckle of amusement from you.

"My, my, Jojo.. Have you contrived this all on my behalf?" You stood there, curiosity in your eyes and a small smile, as you watched your boyfriend carefully spread a beautifully sewed quilt over the uneven patches of grass. It was clear that this moment, simple as it might seem, was shaped with intention and care, setting the stage for the intimate afternoon you were about to share together. "Could it be that there is a significant event which has escaped my memory?”

"No, nothing of that sort." Jonathan replied, his smile casting a warmth over you that felt as comforting as sunlight caressing your skin.The sheer sight of him made your tummy flutter with butterflies; his handsomeness was evident, and his disposition was the pinnacle of gentleness. He was the nicest and most sincere boy you'd ever met. "What a delightful day out, wouldn’t you agree? The weather is simply ideal for a luncheon outing with my beloved.”

"Well yes," You hummed, now it was your turn to be embarrassed as you fidgeted with your hands for a moment and watched him take apart the lunch. "I cannot shake the suspicion that you are plotting something. Quite the mischievous schemer, are you not?”

"What? Me? That’s absurd! Do you truly believe me of being capable of such baseness?" Your boyfriend teased, mimicking a frown which prompted you to gently push on his shoulder as you shared a laugh. It was times like this where you could genuinely admire him. You noted the sharp outlines of his chiseled face, and how his kind blue eyes, reminiscent of the deepest sapphires, seemed to sparkle even more under the natural light. And oh, that smile...

You gradually moved closer to him, inch by inch, until there was almost no room between you. He twisted his head, appearing surprised by the sudden closeness, yet there was no sign of disinterest in his reaction. Silence encompassed you both, the world around you dissolving into a distant hum.

Within seconds, you closed your eyes and closed the final gap, your lips meeting his in a sweet, short kiss. It was a brief encounter, lasting only a few seconds before you pulled back, but in his gaze, you could swear you saw stars twinkling back at you. He glanced at you, completely taken aback, his mouth slightly parted as if about to speak, capturing a moment of wonder.

"Wow..." He reacted. "That was certainly not within the scope of my intentions, but I must admit.. It was rather pleasant."

Joseph Joestar

It was mostly his initiation, he likes to joke around with you a little too much but that was just part of his personality that you like so much. Not to mention that he can be pretty unpredictable, making him blunt in ways that just makes you like him even more.

"What do you want now, Joestar?" You asked, crossing your arms at the sight of your tall boyfriend creeping up on you with a stupid smile that could only mean that he was up to no good.

"Ouch! Can't a guy stroll up to his darling and turn on the charm?" He asked, seeming to have pretended to his offensiveness with a hand on his chest as he bats his eyelashes at you. “Anyways, got any plans later?”

“Oh, what’s it to you? Gonna take me out for dinner? Miss Lisa Lisa isn’t going to like the fact that you’re slacking off on your training.” You reiterated back with a little smirk and a hand on your hip. "She doesn't need to know! I can handle almost anything, baby! Just give me a shot, or else you might get kissed." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, leaning in a bit closer, and you couldn’t help but conceal the smile that was growing on your face. With a playful push, you gently nudged him back, enjoying the flirtatious banter between you. “Is that a threat?” You raised a brow. “Or are you asking something out of me?” “Perhaps.” He answered back and for a second, silence enveloped both of you, heightening the tension in the air. It didn't help matters that he was so close, his scent filling your senses. Glancing around briefly, you released a small sigh, shaking your head in a playful manner. With a tender gesture, you reached out and cupped his cheek, the intimate moment shared between you intensifying.

“You’re impossible.” Your voice was a faint whisper, closing the distance between you as you moved in to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. The kiss, delicate and sweet, lasted far longer than you had anticipated, but you found yourself loving every moment of it. As you got closer, the temptation to melt into his embrace overcame you, and you could feel his eagerness through the curious movements of his hands, which became bolder by the minute.

However, just as you were about to voice your feelings, the distinct call of Caesar’s voice pierced the intimate bubble you had created, forcing you to regretfully break the kiss. Turning your gaze back to Joseph, you were met with his trademark snarky smile, a look that teetered on the edge of being both endearing and infuriating. He wore his joy openly, quietly bragging to himself about having gained something as simple as a kiss to you. It was a moment that triggered a playful irritation in you, making you want to slap his smug grin away.

As the moment between you faded, you watched him depart with a playful wink cast over his shoulder in your direction before returning back to Caesar. Even as he walked away, his cheeky demeanor left a lingering warm feeling in your heart, a silent promise of more moments like these to treasure.

Jotaro Kujo

On the contrary, it was an accidental kiss and wasn't something that neither of you had planned. It was in front of everyone as well, especially in front of his grandfather, which only heightened the embarrassment of the situation.

The situation had taken an unexpected turn, with suspicions that an enemy Stand user, possibly one of Dio's underlings, was involved. This required everyone to be attentive, continuously on the lookout for signs of an attack or sabotage, no matter how bizarre the situation may be at hand. Despite the tension, the moment had allowed for a brief lapse into normalcy as Joseph generously offered to cover the cost of lunch for everyone. You conveyed your gratitude gracefully, humming blissfully to yourself as you devoured the pasta you'd chosen, enjoying the flavors

However, your delight was cut short when you felt an unusual sensation in your throat. It swelled quickly, making it difficult to breathe and speak. Panic came in when you realized you were choking, and the situation quickly escalated from uncomfortable to life-threatening. It was Iggy who had caught on to this, the small dog emerging from beneath the table and began barking loudly at you.

The abrupt escalation of events threw the group into a state of alarm. As you began to drool excessively, struggling for air, a small, rabid-like bug emerged from your mouth, adding a surreal horror to the scene. Your attempt to cry out was muffled, choked by the intrusion. Polnareff and Joseph let out a collective scream, their voices blending in shock and terror. Despite the panic that was clouding your eyesight, you could see Avdol and Kakyoin rush into action, summoning their Stands with an eagerness.

In the midst of the chaos and fear, you suddenly felt a strong, reassuring grip on your shoulder, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with Jotaro. His presence was imposing, the brim of his hat casting a shadow that obscured the upper half of his face, rendering his eyes invisible in the moment. Before you could process the situation fully, Jotaro's lips pressed firmly against yours. Shock and a surge of adrenaline caused your eyes to fly open wide, your hands instinctively curling into fists against his muscular chest. As he pulled back, the realization hit you: Jotaro had taken the stand from your mouth, now holding it between his lips. With a look of disgust, he spat it out to the side. In an instant, Star Platinum was summoned, its fist blurring into motion as it delivered a powerful punch that sent the stand hurtling into oblivion.

Everyone was taken aback by Jotaro's action. It was a bold move that had you gasping for air. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you processed the sensation; his lips had been surprisingly soft, and the kiss had carried a level of passion that left you questioning its intent.

The lingering sensation of his lips on yours created an array of emotions swirling within you, mixing gratitude with confusion and a hint of curiosity. The lingering sensation of his lips on yours sparked a range of emotions within you.

You cleared your throat, the unexpectedness of the circumstance made you feel instantly self-conscious, forcing you to put your plate aside as your hunger faded in the aftermath of the experience. “Thanks…” You said hoarsely.

“Yare Yare…”

Josuke Higashikata

You and Josuke attended the same school, and it had become a regular occurrence for him to offer to walk you home. At first, you didn't think much of it, considering it a friendly gesture. However, things took a different turn when your school friends started teasing you, hinting that Josuke might have a crush on you.

Today was like any other day, with Josuke offering to walk you home once again. However, a nagging feeling of guilt crept over you as you realized how many times he had gone out of his way for you without expecting anything in return. Despite your gratitude for his kindness, you couldn't help but feel like you owed him something more substantial.

As the two of you approached your house's doorstep, you fidgeted with your hands, an anxious yet grateful smile forming across your face as you turned to face the boy. "Is this like, the millionth time you've walked me to my door?" you teased gently, resting against the doorframe and looking down at your feet. "You're really sweet," you said, genuine admiration coloring your words as you met his gaze again. His presence was familiar and comforting, making every trip to your door a special part of your day.

Josuke rubbed the back of his head, a bashful smile playing on his lips as he blushed slightly at your words. "Hey, I was raised to be a gentleman, y'know," he replied with a hint of self-consciousness, his genuine sincerity shining through. "And, uh, I think you're pretty cool to hang out with." he added, trying to play it off casually but unable to hide the warmth in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Yeah? I think you're pretty cool too," you replied, crossing your arms and allowing your gaze to linger on his figure, almost as if you were studying him intently. Josuke, with his trademark pompadour, couldn't help but chuckle softly at your lingering look, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

You fought with the thoughts that raced through your mind, urging you to take the risk and make your move, especially after leaving Josuke visibly flustered. He was now haphazardly kicking at a pebble under his foot, avoiding direct eye contact as if quietly expressing that he was waiting for something else to happen before returning home. The tension in the air was obvious, and you could sense the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

"I wanted to thank you for walking with me every day," you began, your voice wavering slightly with nerves. "A proper thank you," you quickly corrected yourself, hoping to drop a subtle hint about where the conversation was heading. "I feel like my words aren't enough. I think you deserve something more meaningful."

As you spoke, Josuke's gaze shifted back to you, curiosity and anticipation flickering in his eyes. He didn't know what to expect, but the moment he felt your hands holding onto his biceps, everything seemed to fall into place. His heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on him, his mouth going dry and his lips quivering slightly in response to the sudden surge of emotions.

Without hesitating for another second, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips against Josuke's, savoring the sweetness of the moment. The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your lips, adding to the enchantment of the kiss. When you finally pulled away, a soft giggle escaped your lips as you admired the lovestruck expression on Josuke's face, his goofy grin speaking volumes about his happiness in that moment. "S-so, uh... I'll pick you up tomorrow?" Josuke asked, a hint of nervousness lacing his words. In response, you gave his cheek a soft tap, a reassuring gesture that brought a smile to his face. With a final glance and a warm smile, you opened the door to your house, leaving Josuke with a sense of anticipation.

“Definitely.”

Giorno Giovanna

During another date that he had arranged, Giorno bought you ice cream as the two of you walked hand in hand. It was a rare occasion when he wasn't caught up in his responsibilities as a mob leader and actually took the time to be with you. Being outside of the mansion felt refreshing, and you were grateful that Giorno shared the same sentiment.

"You know," you started, a playful lilt in your voice as you attempted to coax him into sharing the dessert, "it's one of your favorite flavors. Are you sure you don't want a taste?" Your attempt was light-hearted, an effort to draw him into a small act of normalcy, something as mundane as sharing ice cream on a date.

Giorno's response was a chuckle, the sound warm and rich, filling the space between you. "I'm quite sure. Today, I'm more than happy just to see you enjoy it," he replied, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

It made you wonder if he'd ever considered taking the relationship to the next level. Nothing extravagant, simply the fact that you've been dating for a while now and he has never initiated a kiss. How you ached to feel his lips on yours. Given his soft-spoken demeanor, you wondered if his lips were also soft and moisturized, providing an intoxicating lasting sensation with each kiss. Given that you were staring a little too long, Giorno had turned to meet your eyes as an evident grin spread across his lips as he cups his own cheek out of embarrassment. “Is there something on my face? You look like you have something you want to say.”

“Mmm, yeah actually.” You responded back with lidded eyes as you gave his hand a small squeeze and stopped your tracks. "There’s been something I’ve been wanting to do for the longest.” You admitted as the ice cream in your hands slowly melted from the bright sun above. You continued, “If I have your permission to touch you, will you trust me?”

"You always have my permission, you don't need to ask," Giorno reassured you with a gentle smile, his eyes watching you carefully. As you wrapped one arm around his neck, the distance between your bodies shortened, creating a more intimate atmosphere. Your cheeks were flushed, and the way he met your gaze without much of a reaction made butterflies flutter in your stomach. You felt his arm snake around your waist, and it almost seemed like he knew exactly what you had planned to do next. The anticipation and closeness between you added a thrilling suspense to the moment.

Eventually, the both of you lean in to share a passionate kiss. Much to your pleasure, his lips were soft and so were his hands as it continues to explore the rest of your body. You felt weak in the knees, your hand rested on his chest and once the two of you pulled away you were left starstruck. “Giorno...” “Shall we get going?” The question, simple and gentle, jolted you back to reality, yet the magic of the moment lingered like the afterglow of a sunset. His hand, warm and reassuring, squeezed yours. You nodded your head in response, letting the blonde lead the way as the two of you continue to enjoy the rest of your date.

Jolyne Cujoh

Well, it was more of a dare than something that was just intended. Whenever she was in a good mood, she hardly took herself so seriously, especially when she was messing around with her friends. Though it was pretty easy to break down the tough exterior that she occasionally displays on herself. That’s just how Jolyne is and you admire her for that.

You were seated comfortably on the carpet of your apartment, surrounded by your friends and the lively energy of the gathering. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, fueled by the risky game you had all decided to play. With each round, bets were placed, and allowances were on the line as you wagered on the most obscure acts and challenges.

However, things took an unexpected turn when Ermes placed a cash bet on Jolyne kissing you. The room fell silent for a moment as everyone's gaze focused on you and Jolyne, the heightened tension palpable as the game appeared to have strayed into personal territory.

“Where’d that even come from? You tryin’ to make fun of us or something?” You asked Ermes, your cheeks felt warm,

Ermes just laughed, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she observed the sudden tension between you and Jolyne. "What? Can't handle a little dare?" she teased, her grin widening at your discomfort. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, especially when you caught Jolyne's eye. Her usually fierce demeanor seemed softened by the flush of embarrassment, making her look unexpectedly vulnerable.

Jolyne let out a deep breath, her gaze shifting from you to Ermes and then back again. "Fine," she finally said, the word coming out more as a challenge than a submission. She leaned closer, her eyes locked with yours, a mix of defiance and something softer you couldn't quite place. The room fell silent, the playful teasing of moments ago replaced by an almost electric anticipation. You could hear your heart beating, loud in the quiet of the room, as Jolyne's face came closer to yours. Her eyes flickered closed, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.

The kiss was brief, a simple press of lips that felt like a spark through your entire body. When she pulled back, her eyes met yours again, searching for a reaction. The room erupted into whistles and laughter from Ermes and Foo Fighters, but both you and Jolyne were caught in a moment of silent communication, a question and answer passing silently between you.

Jolyne broke eye contact first, turning back to face Ermes and the others with a nonchalant shrug. "See? Just a kiss," she said, her voice steady but you noticed the slight pink still coloring her cheeks.

You were left a little dazed, warmth spreading through your chest. Although the kiss was part of the game, it felt like it carried more weight than either of you would admit. As the game continued and the evening wore on, you found yourself stealing glances at Jolyne, wondering if the moment had meant as much to her as it did to you.

Johnny Joestar

Just as he was about to join the big horse race, you had to pull him back a bit as you couldn’t help but worry about his own well being. It was a big deal, people can get way too competitive and you tend to worry over the littlest things. Of course, he had to reassure you that he was gonna be fine and that he would just have to be away for a few days, perhaps a few weeks or even months. The thought of being so far away from him already made you anxious and he noticed this, so he held your hands and looked up into your eyes.

"I'll be fine, promise," he responded, his voice full of confidence and calmness. You wanted to believe in his statements and that he would carefully go through the challenges. You knew deep down that despite the distance and time away, he had the courage and determination to return to you.

Before you could say anything else, an obnoxiously loud horn blared, causing both you and Johnny to flinch. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, signaling that the horse race was about to commence. You observed Johnny, noticing how his gaze fixated on a man in a hat, attending to a horse. While you were curious about his sudden focus, you decided not to inquire and instead diverted his attention back to you.

You stretched out and cupped his cheek, gently turning his face toward you. The touch was both calming and anchoring, a gentle reminder amidst the chaos of the race. Johnny's gaze met yours, and everything else disappeared into the background. The clamor of the crowd, the excitement of the race, everything went incidental.

In the heat of the moment, you let your body take control as your brain lagged behind. You wrapped your arms around Johnny, pulling yourself closer to his pretty face and eventually your lips locked with his own. You could tell you caught him off guard with the way his body jumped but he immediately melted into the kiss. The world around you seemed to fade into a blur, leaving just the warmth of his lips against yours and the rhythmic beating of your hearts in perfect harmony. It was a frozen moment in time, with every touch and sensation speaking volumes about your relationship.

After the lingering kiss had finally ended, Johnny's lips retained their puckered form for a moment longer, as if trying to capture the essence of the intimate moment. His eyes remained closed, basking in the residual warmth of your embrace. It wasn't until you let out a playful giggle and lightly tapped his cheek that he snapped out of his reverie, realizing that the kiss had come to an end. Johnny's face broke into a sheepish grin as he opened his eyes, the delighted twinkle in them reflecting how deeply he had lost himself in the experience.

"Having fun there, loverboy?" you teased with a playful grin, unable to hide the amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Shut up, and kiss me again before I go for real this time," Johnny mumbled in a half-serious, half-playful tone, already leaning in with closed eyes, anticipating the next kiss. You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully at his eagerness, knowing all too well how much he enjoyed these moments of intimacy.

Granting his wish, you leaned in closer, planting a series of small, teasing pecks on his lips. Each kiss was light and fleeting, just enough to leave him wanting more but sufficient to see the satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)

His embrace was overwhelmingly tight, his clinginess something you adored in him, yet you hadn't quite anticipated the sheer strength he possessed. It left you feeling somewhat overpowered, as if you were about to be compressed into nothingness. Your reaction was a series of light giggles, and although you attempted to push him away gently, it only led him to draw you closer once again. Looking down at you, Gappy gently held your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.

"Josuke, what's gotten into you?" you question playfully about your boyfriend, but Gappy's arms remained tightly around you. Sure, you had grown accustomed to his affection, though it may occasionally take you by surprise with its intensity. You were also aware of his memory loss and continued search for his identity and purpose. Being one of the first people he met after losing his memory, he quickly developed an emotional connection to you, which you accepted wholeheartedly.

“You’re warm...” He muttered quietly, his fingers tracing patterns across your skin, inducing involuntary shivers. His acts toward you were noticeably compassionate, in stark contrast to his usual approach. Really, he had charisma, a natural capacity to attract those around him, as well as characteristics that made him unique. Nonetheless, he was ready to get violent at any given moment. But with you, he was someone completely different. He treated you with tenderness and care that spoke volumes, distinguishing you to be special in his eyes. It was this sharp contrast, this respite from his rougher side, that made you feel sincerely appreciated and cherished.

"Jojo..." Your words was just a whisper, a sweet utterance full of care as you softly lifted your hands, cradling his face with the utmost care.You allowed your eyes to wander over his features, memorizing each detail—the curve of his brow, the depth in his eyes, the subtle strength in his jawline. As you leaned closer, your lips discovered the warmth of his forehead and planted a delicate kiss. With each kiss, you followed a line across his face, from his forehead to his cheek, and finished with a peck on his chin. He reacted with a slight start to your boldness, a small but noticeable jump, yet he remained silent, his eyes speaking volumes of the surprise and warmth he felt.

You wanted to giggle, a sense of satisfaction at getting such a reaction from your boyfriend. You were about to say something witty and sharp, the words almost dancing on your tongue, eager to tease him even more. However, before you could make your smart remark, the scenario took an unexpected turn. His hands, echoing your previous move, rose to gently cup your face. The world seemed to stop for a time as his eyes fluttered shut, sending a subtle indication of his intentions.

Then, with unexpected boldness, he closed the gap between you, pushing his lips against yours in a daring kiss. His unexpected action left your eyes wide open in shock for just a second, leaving an unspoken query hanging in the air. But as the surprise wore off, a warmth flowed through you, and you found yourself easing into the kiss, your body's tension melting away as you reacted with equal passion.

Once the two of you pulled away, you were left breathless, your cheeks were warm and it was hard to really look him in the eyes after such a passionate kiss. You were at a loss for words as well, it was hard to really think about what to say next. It seemed like he was on the same page, his eyes simply looking at yours as he tried to read the expression that you had on your face. Rest assured, there was definitely going to be more kisses after that.

Jodio Joestar

Your frustration was palpable when you stumbled upon him yet again engaged in the act of selling drugs, this time to a group of unfamiliar faces. The sight of him engaging this illicit exchange stirred a flare of anger within you, prompting you to confront him directly. Standing there, your posture rigid with your arms tightly crossed over your chest and a frown etching deep lines of disappointment across your face, you were the picture of discontent.

Jodio, seemingly unconcerned by your appearance or the dissatisfaction etched all over your face, simply snickered to himself dismissively. He nonchalantly shook a baggie full of dollar notes, flaunting the goods of his trade right in front of your eyes, all before he had a chance to properly register your presence or understand the depth of your anger.

"Again?" You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you observed his repetitive behavior. It was a mix of frustration and disappointment that colored your expression, a silent plea for him to understand the significance of his actions. However, his response was careless, with a mere shrug that appeared to indicate a lack of regard for your issues.

"What's the big deal?" he asked, his tone tinged with casualness as he continued walking, dismissing your concerns. He passed you and headed in the direction where Dragona had parked his car. However, you were not going to let him off the hook so easily. You followed closely after him, the mean expression still engraved on your face as you gazed at his back. Your steps were deliberate, each bearing the weight of your frustration you had for him. His relaxed demeanor simply bolstered the urge to confront him and make him realize the weight of his actions that he had on you.

"What's the big deal?" For god's sake, you're a 15-year-old selling drugs to a couple of dickheads!" Your frustration spilled out in words, your voice infused with fear and exasperation. "You'll get in big trouble, and they'll take you away, and—" Before you could continue, you were interrupted by his irritatingly loud yawn. The interruption left you speechless, your eyes narrowing. The boldness of his attitude, yawning as if your issues were nothing more than a little annoyance, was frustrating. "You're unbelievable," you said under your breath, your words filled with disappointment.

"What's unbelievable is that you care so much," he spat back, his tone defiant as he stuffed the bag of cash into his pockets. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you directly. "What? Cat's got your tongue? You're kinda funny," he added with a hint of sarcasm, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Your initial instinct was to lash out, to give voice to the frustration swirling inside you. But in a split second, something shifted, and before you could fully process it, your impulses took over. Without a second thought, you grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and pressed your lips onto his.

The kiss was impulsive, a burst of emotion that manifested in the heat of the moment. You could feel the texture of his slightly chapped lips against yours. It was a surprise even to yourself, this sudden act of intimacy amidst the tension and conflict that had defined your interaction moments ago.

“I’ll… see you around.”

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kittycatasaurus · 3 months

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Love Flavoured Chocolates (2023 Willy Wonka/Reader)

(Cross posted to my AO3, I'm obsessed with Wonka and wanted to share this purely self indulgent reader insert because there simply isn't enough out there and hey it might encourage me to write some more if other people can also enjoy my writing!)

Word count: 3.2k

Willy had come to the Galéries Gourmet with nothing but his love for chocolate making, a wish to once more see his mother, and a hat full of dreams. One thing he certainly hadn’t accounted for was falling in love. He’d first had the pleasure of meeting you the first time Noodle smuggled him out of Scrubitt’s.

You'd befriended the young girl in passing on the street after she’d bumped into you with her laundry cart while neither of you were paying quite enough attention to where you were going. Though the collision was soft enough to keep you both on your feet, she had knocked the book your face was buried in straight to the ground causing you both to startle. Immediately the pair of you burst into apologies (which had made you laugh, despite the girl’s sincere panic), “You’re alright little missy, that was entirely my fault for not looking ahead of me, I simply can’t put this one down, I’m so close to finishing this new tale of a young detective!” You attempted to ease her worry with a big smile, it seemed to work as the girl’s face shifted from concern to interest. “Is-is that the latest Nancy Drew story?” She asked eagerly, trying to get a better look at the book in your hand. With a simple nod, keeping the easy smile on your face you answered, yes. From there the pair of you spent at least a half hour chattering excitedly about the fantastical feats of the young investigator until a nearby clocktower chimed, making her realise she was falling way behind schedule and would soon have to return to the wash house with a few deliveries still to make their destinations. “It’s been wonderful talking to you miss, but I’m afraid I really must hurry along, I hope I run into you again, my name is Noodle in case you see me before I see you!” The girl, now known to you as Noodle, what an interesting name, jumbled out as she made off to scurry away to wherever she needed to be. “I hope I see you again as well Noodle, you’ve been a delight to talk to! The name is Y/N” You called out after her and continued your stroll once she was out of sight, only somewhat more aware of your surroundings this time.

After that initial encounter you had run into each other a few times, eventually budding a wonderful friendship wherein you shared books and life stories with one another. Gradually you learned of Noodle’s more than unfortunate living situation and provided her comfort and reassurance in any ways you could, be that a book from your collection which she hadn’t yet read or a warm hug and shoulder to cry on, the girl became a younger sister figure to you.

This was where Wonka came into the picture, you and Noodle by this point had been friends for the better part of two years and saw each other frequently so you were understandably concerned when you hadn’t seen her around for the last couple of weeks. Just when the worry was getting to the point of you preparing yourself to storm into Scrubitt’s and demand to know about the wellbeing of your friend you saw her, tucked away from the main roads and pathways, talking to her trolley? Now that is upsetting, such a beautiful young mind lost to the madness of her circumstance. As you were about to approach, rounding the corner of the wall you’d hidden behind, a man emerged from the trolley clearly in conversation with the young girl. If not for your sheer confusion, you would have hastily approached the stranger as instinct kicked in to keep Noodle away from any potential danger. She didn't appear frightened or startled so logic told you this was no stranger to her, and therefore not a threat. Upon the realisation, you called out to your friend whom you’d missed in the two weeks of absence, “Noodle! Where’ve you been, little lady?” Immediately, both heads turned to face you and your breath caught in your throat as the mystery man turned and you finally caught a glimpse of his face. It was a beautiful face too, puppy-like hazel eyes, framed by fluttery long lashes, thick full eyebrows sat above them, complimenting his slender, pale face. Both pairs of eyes were wide upon you but you were still taking in the gorgeous man before you, to the point you failed to hear Noodle as she repeated your name, asking “Y/N? What are you doing here?” At the lack of response, she followed up “Earth to Y/N?” with a somewhat exasperated sigh after. Seeing the man turn to face Noodle shook you from your reverie and you let out a sharp little “Hmm?” “I said, what are you doing here Y/N? Were you following me or something?” Her look caused a twang of guilt for a second until you registered that, no you hadn’t been following Noodle, just actively looking out for her as you’d thought her to be missing. “Of course not you numpty! I heard your voice coming from a sketchy alley and saw you talking to your laundry pile, I only wanted to check you were alright, especially considering I haven’t seen you in a few weeks kid! It’s completely understandable for me to be at least a little worried, even more so after seeing a strange man come out of your trolley,” Your voice was taking on a bit of a scolding tone as you softened it to turn to the aforementioned man “No offence.” He shook his head as though to imply none taken as his eyes flitted between the two of you, the friendly smile never once leaving his face. “I take it this is Y/N, Noodle?” his eyes remained on her this time as she nodded back to him. Well that was unexpected, this mysterious dreamboat knew who you were courtesy of Noodle, and while you were flattered she told this new ‘friend’ about you, you worried over what she said in order for him to deduce your identity.

Together, the pair of them explained their plan to get the money to free themselves of Scrubitt’s unfair debt, going into detail about the wondrous and impossible chocolates made by who you now know to be ‘Willy Wonka, future chocolatier extraordinaire’. In all honesty your mind is positively racing to keep up, but with such bright smiles on their faces you can only nod your support and shoot a smile back, albeit a smaller one.

———————————

That had been a while ago, though it felt even longer. By this point, you had collectively put a stop to the chocolate cartel and Scrubitt and Bleacher. Wonka’s chocolates were doing better than ever and with everyone from the wash house going back to their old lives, Willy was alone again, well mostly. Abacus Crunch had been happy to remain the financial adviser for Willy and the group would do their best to stay in touch thanks to Lottie Bell and her phone operator gig but it was definitely lonely, going from all those people around him, that warm environment to nothing again. Although, you were still around weren’t you? You and Noodle? While you both saw her often, upon finding her mother and the library where she stayed, it was less and less that you found yourself in the young girl’s company, she had years of catching up to do after all. You wanted to believe that was why you were seeing less and less of Willy too, but the pair of you had no reason not to see each other often, after all, you’d quit your boring old job to help out and work with Willy at his shop as soon as it had been acquired. So then why did it feel like he was avoiding you, or attempting to shut you out.

This is where you find yourself as you sit with Noodle outside her mother’s library one warm evening. “I don’t understand Noodle, he seems lonely, it's simply a fact that he thrives off of being around other people so I don’t understand why he’s shutting himself away” a too big sigh leaves your mouth. “I miss him, I miss his cheshire grin, the confusing way he talks, even just seeing his garish purple coat” “Hmmm, kinda sounds like you love him” “Yeah, I just don’t know what’s u- WHAT?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOODLE?” Your face burns red as your brain takes a minute to register what the young girl chimes in with. In response she holds up her hands, palms facing you, “I’m just saying it as I see it.” With a shrug she shakes her head. Though her words do make you stop and think back to the many months you’ve known the eccentric chocolatier.

The first day you’d successfully sold Wonka’s chocolates on the street had resulted in a quick getaway where you and Willy had ended up lost in the tunnels below the city, escaping the corrupt chief of police for an hour or two as you attempted to meet up with the others to get Willy back to Scrubitt’s with the others in time for roll call. At this point you hadn’t yet been alone together, and the lack of familiarity seemingly made Willy nervous to the point his breathing got panicked and you shared a rather intimate moment where you helped ease his discomfort with a simple breathing exercise and hand massage. “Willy, give me your hand please,” you spoke in the most gentle tone you’d ever mustered after his laboured breaths stabilised, he acquiesced rather quickly as you reached out to him, gently cupping his hand. “I’m gonna trace the lines of your palm okay? It might tickle but I promise you, you’ll feel better.” The smile on your face eased any remaining nerves and once you started to caress his palm with your thumb he seemed to lose the last of the tension. “See,” your voice was still incredibly gentle, but now you were both smiling though his was significantly smaller than usual, “You’re okay, sweetie, I’m here” The pet name left your mouth so naturally neither of you reacted, though a moment later you flushed realising the implied closeness of calling him such a name. With level heads you managed to safely navigate your way back to the others in time and wished Willy a restful night. In retrospect that may very well have been when you first started to develop feelings for the man, you could no longer tell, in the objectively short time that you’d known him, you could think of at least a dozen other times that may have stimulated this apparent crush of yours. Though one particular memory comes to mind more often than the rest. The most recent to boot, the day you reunited Noodle with her mother!

It was the day you’d put an end to the cartel, Willy would finally be free to run his chocolate shop and live out the dream he’d shared with his late mother. The celebration in the Galéries Gourmet seemed to go on forever as everyone enjoyed the chocolate fountain filling up cups seemingly endlessly. A group effort had the shop back together in no time, looking as good as new. As the sun was finally descending from its high perch, your friends from Scrubitt’s all said their goodbyes and well wishes to Willy, Noodle and yourself. Leaving the three of you to lounge about in comfortable silence for a while. “We have a surprise for you, Noodle!” You said excitedly to the young girl who was almost falling asleep where she sat. Exchanging eye contact with Willy, you rose with Noodle in tow. Wide awake after jolting her about, she rushed to keep up with both of your longer legs as you sped away from the shop. Stopping abruptly outside of the library, Noodle gathered her bearings with a confused expression on her face and heavy breaths leaving her lungs, “The library?? What could possibly be so important in there you felt the need to sprint AND drag me along too no less!” She was understandably irritated, but you knew it would be worth all the effort soon enough. “Close your eyes for a second for me Noodle-dee!” Willy told her cheerfully as you approached the door holding onto the girl’s hand to bring her with you. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. “Now open them…” You whispered just loud enough for her to hear and comply. Before her, stood her mother, finally reunited after years of wishing and hoping. Immediately the two shared the warmest embrace you’d ever witnessed as you backed up and gave them their space, returning to Wonka’s side and overlooking the tender moment. A soft sniffle from beside you reached your ear and you glanced over to see Willy’s eyes glossy with unshed tears, the poor boy must’ve been reminded of his own mother in that moment, your heart hurt for him. “Come here sweetie,” you hummed to him, pulling the chocolatier into a comforting hug. “She’d be so proud of you right now, you know?” You got a teary chuckle in response to that as his arms wrapped around you. Noodle and her mother looked over to you now and you raised your arm in a wave to let them know you’d be heading back to leave them to catch up on all the time they’d spent apart.

The walk back wasn’t far, but it felt much longer without Noodle especially since you’d run practically the whole way there and were now strolling very leisurely. Neither of you said anything but you were touching in some way the entire time, holding hands for part of the walk, then switching to linking arms, even simply resting your hand on Willy’s back. Eventually you made it back to the shop, with the lights off, it was as though the magic was sleeping. As you entered ahead of Willy, you looked back to examine his expression, he wasn’t upset, of course not, he just reunited his dearest friend with her mother whom she thought long lost, perhaps forlorn was more accurate. The cogs in his head were clearly turning as he wrangled with his feelings, particularly regarding his mother and the seemingly impending loneliness he was soon to face. He stopped walking as soon as he entered, eyes still downcast as though expecting you to turn around and leave right then and there as well. With a low sigh you finally broke the silence “Willy, I’m not leaving you, not after that, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just walked out after seeing those tears in your eyes.” He looked up, this time they had escaped and he had a sad pout on his beautiful lips. “Can you tell me about her? Have you got any pictures?” You’d not heard much at all about his mother from him aside from how much he loved her and that she was the inspiration for his dream turned reality. Willy gave a little nod and led you through the store to his makeshift office/home/break room, and on the desk sat a framed photo of a beautiful woman with a very familiar smile. “Wow this is her then? She’s beautiful Willy, you look so much like her.” You said the last bit somewhat under your breath as you realised the implication of what you said (as much as you meant it, it seemed a bit forward). You picked up the picture and sat down on the sofa in the room, patting the seat next to you for Willy to sit beside you, the rest of the night was spent listening to stories of his childhood and asking questions. The pair of you laughed, you cried, and eventually Willy fell asleep with his head on your shoulder. Getting as comfortable as the pair of you could, you let yourself join him in the land of dreams shortly after.

Now, it had been a few weeks since you and Willy had experienced the almost intimate exchange of life stories, as well as your chat with Noodle and you had the day off. Willy was on a break from work and went to visit Noodle at the library to tell her all about that night and how great a person he found you to be, gushing over how ‘kind, pretty, sensitive, and funny’ you were but somehow avoiding the ‘L’ word and seemingly ignoring his feelings for you. Eventually, the girl could take it no longer and burst out “Either ask her out, or I will do it for you! You’re such an idiot Willy, it's so obvious you love Y/N and I don’t understand how you’ve danced around it for as long as you have!” Noodle’s frustration was apparent from her face alone, if her words somehow hadn’t conveyed exactly what she meant them to. Willy’s eyes went wide at her outburst and his face started to resemble a tomato almost in how brightly he was blushing. As he opened his mouth to make a retort, Noodle interrupted him with a raised finger and a look that shut him up before he could even make so much as a noise. “Go see her now Willy, or I will.” Was all she had to say to get him standing up and practically sprinting out of the door.

A hurried knock at your door startled you out of your thoughtless stare out the window, you sat up abruptly, I’m not expecting any visitors, you thought to yourself as you walked cautiously over to the door. Through the peephole, you spotted the one and only Willy Wonka, pleasantly surprised, you opened up the door to be pulled into a tight embrace. Despite the initial shock, you quickly recovered to hug your dear friend back, “Heya, what’s gotten into you, sweetpea?” Genuinely confused as to the context despite reciprocating the affectionate action. Pulling back from you to look into your eyes, Willy responded, “I love you, Y/N.” Cue the widening of your eyes as you started to stammer out a reply, “Wh-what, huh, I-” “I love you, Y/N, I can’t believe it took Noodle calling me an idiot to realise it but I’m hopelessly, wholeheartedly in love with you.” He affirmed with a fire behind his gaze. You realised then that he wasn’t joking, this wasn’t a prank or him using the word in a friendly sense. “You, you do?” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you looked into his, “I love you too, Willy Wonka.” Not wanting to keep him in suspense, you confessed right back. A laugh broke free from your mouth as the tears started to fall from your eyes. Gently cupping either side of his face, you brought your lips together in a sweet kiss that felt like it could last forever, his hands finding a comfortable perch on your hips as you held each other close. Breaking apart for air, you both giggled, and leaned back into each other for another kiss, this one escalating a little past wholesome as you softly tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth. Breathing heavily now, you separated once more to stare into each other's eyes. Willy Wonka had confessed his love to you and you were ecstatic to say you felt the same. This would be the start of something beautiful, of that you were sure.

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #reader insert

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drewharrisonwriter · 9 months

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Donor | Drabble | Dirty Dancing

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is a drabble for my Henry Cavill fic Donor. English is not my first language. Darling bestie found Hank's dancer doppleganger.

Also, guys, I made a GIF. LMAO 🤣

One lazy Saturday evening, you were once again lounging on the couch, your legs stretched out comfortably and a tablet in your hand.

You had been absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, a guilty pleasure of yours recently, when suddenly, a video caught your eye.

The Grand Theatre had uploaded a sneak peek of the upcoming production of Dirty Dancing. The camera panned to the cast, and there was Michael O'Reilly, leading the cast in a rehearsal of an iconic dance scene. You snorted, trying to stifle a laugh.

The catchy music and impressive choreography were enough to entertain you, but what had you trying to hold yourself back from laughing hysterically was the comments section. People were flooding the comments, pointing out the uncanny resemblance between Michael O’Reilly and a certain someone.

You finally burst into laughter, catching Henry's attention from the carpeted floor next to you on the couch. He looked up from his book, a quizzical expression on his face. "What's so funny?"

Still giggling, you turned the tablet toward him, showing him the video. "Look at this! It's the cast of the new Dirty Dancing rehearsing, and Michael O'Reilly is literally doing the lift!"

Henry's eyes widened as he watched the video. "First of all, that's impressive," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But what's got you laughing so hard?"

You couldn't contain your mirth as you scrolled down to the comments section. "Read these comments!" you exclaimed, handing the tablet to Henry.

As he read the comments, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Is it just me, or is Michael O’Reilly literally Henry Cavill?"

"Wait a minute, are we sure Henry Cavill isn't moonlighting as a dancer?"

"I see Henry Cavill wearing a disguise! No way that's not him!"

You couldn't contain your laughter as Henry read aloud some of the comments out loud. Henry watched the video again with a raised eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Are they serious?" he chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "I mean, I get it. Michael and I might share a resemblance, but I promise you, I'm not secretly moonlighting as a dancer."

Kal let out a playful woof, seemingly agreeing with Henry's sentiment.

"But…" He said, pausing the video, and pointing at it. "I can definitely lift you like that." He winked at you, his voice carrying a playful undertone that sent a shiver down your spine.

You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard, your voice still laced with amusement. "Oh, really now? Are you suggesting we audition for a remake?"

Henry's eyes glinted with a suggestive gleam, his grin growing devilish. "Well, I can't speak for my dance skills in that level, but I'm quite confident in my lifting abilities."

Your laughter blended with a mixture of delight and flirtatiousness. "Is that so? Maybe we should practice then, just to be sure you've got it down."

Henry's laughter joined yours, the atmosphere between you growing charged with playful energy. "Practice makes perfect, after all."

"I still can't believe people are convinced it's you! Maybe you do have it in you to make it in the theatre world."

Henry shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. "Well, I guess it's always good to have options if this acting thing doesn't work out."

You laughed again, your sides practically hurting from the sheer hilarity of it all. It was moments like these that made your life with Henry so special – the ability to find joy and humor in the simplest of things.

Henry's laughter joined yours as he handed the tablet back to you. "Well, I must say, I've always had a hidden talent for dance."

You playfully rolled your eyes, finally coming down from the high of the situation. "Yeah, just keep it hidden, Hank." He responded with a playful swat to your arm.

"And don't let your newfound dance skills overshadow your other talents," you teased, a gleam of humor in your eye.

He got on his knees and leaned over the couch, his chin resting on your shoulder. "And what talents might those be, my love?"

His voice dipped into a slightly husky tone, his gaze smoldering with a suggestive spark, nuzzling his nose against your ear.

A playful grin curved your lips as you turned your head to meet his gaze. "Oh, you know... the kind of talents that require a bit more privacy and a lot less clothing."

His deep chuckle reverberated through the room, his lips brushing against your neck. "Well, in that case, perhaps we should put this tablet away and focus on exploring those talents." he murmured, gently taking the tablet from your hands and drawing you into a passionate kiss that left no room for further words.

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme @angelcavill66

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Daniela Dimitrescu x Y/N who has a kid part 2

I’m really excited to return to this AU and it’s been highly requested that I write a sequel! Read the first part here! Let’s get into it!

You and Dani have gone on quite a few dates recently. She had been terrified to tell you about her… Family situation. But, after the whole fainting episode, you told her that nothing could change the way you feel about her. You just want to be with her.

Dani, being the softy she is, balled her eyes out at your statement for half an hour.

She still hasn’t brought you to meet her mother yet, but… Baby steps. You two are content to stay in the safe, private bubble you have created for your relationship. No one else needs to know how much you like each other (Well, Ana being the exception).

This morning, you’re feeding Ana as she sits in her highchair. You make silly faces at her as you offer her spoonfuls of food and she squeals happily while she eats.

You love bright and fun mornings like these.

Suddenly, you both hear a knock at the door. Who could that be? You aren’t expecting any visitors…

You holler out that the door is open and are met with a very welcome sight. It’s Dani.

“Good morning, my loves!” The chipper redhead calls out.

You smirk and wipe Ana’s face. “Hey, babe. I didn’t know you were coming over today,” You say and go over to give Dani a kiss.

Dani all but purrs the minute your lips touch hers. She pulls back and affectionately pinches your cheek. “Well, I went for a walk in the castle gardens this morning and found the most yummy-looking apples ever!” Dani says, showing you a basket she brought along. “I had to share!” She giggles.

You laugh at this. Dani’s the type of person to make up tons of silly excuses just to see you. But, it’s really sweet that she thinks about you so much.

However, before you can say anything else, Dani gasps when she sees Ana in her highchair nearby. She abruptly shoves the basket into your hands and speeds over to her.

“Hi, baby!” She coos and kisses Ana’s cheek. “I missed you so much!”

Ana is excited to see Dani. So excited, in fact, that she says something that will change you and Dani’s lives… Forever.

“Mama!” Ana babbles happily and reaches out for the redhead to pick her up.

You and Dani immediately freeze at this.

It’s a moment you would have never anticipated, and yet… It feels so right. Dani is like Ana’s mother. She’s so loving and always makes your little one a priority.

But… Is this going to freak Dani out? You don’t know if she will appreciate the title or if it will make her feel uncomfortable. You finally manage to look over at Dani and can see the sheer… Delight on her face.

Dani’s eyes are watering and she’s wearing the most precious smile. She leans closer to gently nuzzle her nose against Ana’s. “Would you… Like me to be your mama, baby?” She asks.

Ana giggles and claps her hands. Repeating one word over and over. “Mama! Mama! Mama!”

Dani picks Ana up and cradles her to her chest, reveling in the warmth of the precious child in her arms.

It’s… Weird, though. As Dani looks at Ana… She feels that a new, stronger attachment has formed between them both. It’s something instinctual and raw. This is her baby now and she will do anything to protect her.

Anything.

Dani breathes heavily at the intense feelings coursing through her.

You, mesmerized and watching from a distance, put the basket of apples on the table and go to join the two in a hug.

Dani hums contentedly. This is her new little family. She loves you and Ana so much.

No words are spoken, and yet everyone knows that something special has just happened.

The rest of the day is spent together.

Later on, as you, Dani, and Ana are snuggling on the couch, Dani finally addresses the elephant in the room. “I… Need you both to meet my mother,” She says quietly.

You feel your heart rate quicken at this. No… You’re not ready! What if she hates you?! Not to mention Dani’s sisters. “I… But… But-!” You try to argue.

Dani just shakes her head at you. “Y/N, my mother needs to know that… I’m a Mama now,” She says, looking down at Ana adoringly and brushing some hair out of her face. “I… Want her to meet you and her new granddaughter,” She says and turns to you. “Don’t you agree?” She asks and raises an expectant eyebrow, her tone holding no room for argument.

You blanch at this, but eventually nod. “I’m… I guess I’m just nervous. What if she doesn’t like me? Telling her that you have a family now is… A pretty big bomb to drop,” You say quietly.

Dani sighs at this. “I know… To be honest, I’m terrified as well,” She admits. “But…” She says and gently pecks Ana on the head. “It’s the right thing to do. She deserves to know about us,” She says with conviction, leaning over and capturing your lips in a kiss.

You eagerly kiss Dani before she pulls back to look at you.

“So… What do you say, Y/N?” She asks, pleading silently with her her eyes.

You laugh at this. Dani’s puppy dog eyes are impossible to resist. “Alright, babe,” You concede.

Dani squeals happily and softly bounces Ana in her arms. “Are you ready to meet grandma, baby?” She asks.

Ana just giggles at Dani’s excited voice.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” She gushes and peppers kisses all over her little one’s face. “We’ll tell her tomorrow! Oh! And you’ll get to meet your aunts too!” Dani declares. She rattles on, telling Ana all about them.

You, on the other hand… Are a little less than enthused. Looks like you’re staying up to write your last will and testament tonight…

Note: In this AU, Dani is kind of giving Giselle from Enchanted XD What do you think??

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #y/n is stupid #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x y/n #re8 daniela #re8 incorrect quotes #re8 fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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frogchiro · 1 year

Note

Am I straight horny from reading eremite thirst? Yes. Do I want to dress up in Babel's clothing infront of them? Yes. Yes I do. I mean Babel got some hip windows and I know damn well her clothes are MADE to he ripped off

AS YOU SHOULD BE NONNY

rfhgueguegu I just looked up Babel and good golly please step on me lady

and you're right her clothes are as hot as she is, i'm going genuinely feral for the hip windows, as would the men of your group <3

fem!reader, slight nsfw, the usual drill; hot, big and horny Eremite men having the ultimate hots for you <3

Since you're staying with them permanently now, you decided on incorporating their style and culture into your life and what better to begin with than clothes! You bought them from a traveling merchant during a short stay at the Caravan Ribat before continuing further into the desert.

You had to set up camp for the night and since there has been a successful hunt with minimal damage your boys decided that a small celebration is in place; you could swear that they'd find any excuse to celebrate and make you dance for them so that they could use it as a way to grope you and eventually drag you back into the tent an have their way with you.

SO, you decided that this little gathering is a perfect way to make use of your new dress! It's a bit skimpy but it feels as if it's weightless, the dark gauzy fabric perfectly accentuating your curves and hugging all the right places.

Just as you got the last piece in place, a booming voice just outside your tent made you slightly jump as one of the men announced that they've set up the fire and roast and they're waiting for you which earned you a few loud and excited whoops of delight from the others.

You smiled slightly and made your way to remove the flap of the tent and reveal yourself getting kinda anxious what would they say about your new outfit, would they like it? What if you ended up looking ridiculous and-

Your train of thoughts was immediately brought to a halt when you noticed all the men staring at you, their eye bandanas temporarily removed and looking-or rather leering-right at you.

You noticed the look right away; dark, hungry, lustful, that of predator just about to pounce on a unsuspecting prey. You got bashful as you slowly stepped into the area where they were sitting in silence still, just looking.

Before you could say something to get the out of this trance you let out a yelp as suddenly a pair of strong arms belonging to Geo Enchanter wrapped around your middle and dragged you straight into his lap while the men sitting next to him flocked closer and started to run their hands all over you.

"And just where did ya get this thing Little Lady, hmm~? Think you can just walk dressed like that and expect a man to behave?"

The dark skinned man growled into your ear before nipping it lightly and letting his big scarred hands wander all over your body and slip under the sheer chest piece to tease your quickly stiffening nipples.

"I-ah! I-bought it. From that cloth merchant back at the Caravan Ribat. Y-You were so silent when I walked out, I thought you didn't like it-!"

Your ramble was quickly cut short by a slight swat to your bottom and the booming laughs of the surrounding men; just when did they all get so close?

"Well, ya can be pretty sure we like it, don't we boys?", Sunfrost's quip was answered by delighted calls.

"Then let's show this pretty Lady how much we love it~"

That sentence basically sealed your fate and they took you right then and there, on the laid out on the furs under the shining stars and night sky. When they were finaly finished with you, you were back inside the shared tent, all of the men tired out and panting with fatigue.

Right there in the middle of the sweaty bodies laid your naked form, the beautiful dress torn to shreds earlier in the night by the hungry hands of the Eremites; a shame really, the dress really was pretty but hey! At least you can be sure that your boys liked it too, right~?

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #god I love them #and i love writing for them <3 #hope you like it!#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #eremites x reader

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imliketheiceifreeze · 10 months

Text

Recombinant Miles Quaritch x OC

My Little scientist- Chapter 10

4,223 words

warnings: swearing, smut themes, power imbalance, MINORS DNI

Start

When she had awoken in Miles' enormous bed after the long night they had shared, her heart had been warmed to find a slightly crumpled note, written on the top of a post-it note pad, placed atop the bedside table next to a glass of water. She squinted in the dim lights to read the sprawling letters, obviously written down hastily, deciding to flick on the bedside lamp to fully comprehend the letter.

"Sunshine, I didn't want you to wake up alone but I had to be up early for another induction. Come and find me in my office when you're up and I'll have something for you.

p.s. wear that cute little skirt with the slit up the back"

She snorted a laugh at his brazen attitude, commanding her around as usual, but she didn't have the heart to deny him-wanting to please him in any way she could at all times and being powerless to fight that part of her true nature. Yawning and rubbing her face with one hand, she arched her back feeling the muscles crack.

'god I feel ran through'

she thought, barely still able to walk straight as she made her way to his ensuite, blinking the sleep from her eyes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror and what she saw caused a gasp to catch in her throat, now fully alert she raced to the reflective pane, hands flying to the dark purple blotches littering her skin and

oh my,

a large handprint embedded onto her ass, fingerprints marking her hips and waist. every bruise caused a memory of that night to flash across her mind like a song that was stuck on loop in her head, like her body was still covered with the ghost of his hands all over it. And with widened eyes, she brushed the marks with her fingertips, a smug smile curling at the corners of her lips.

It unlocked a desire in her that had probably always been in there, a desire to let miles inspect his own work, to let him mark her up even further, let him bite and kiss and grab her until she was moulded into the perfect sculpture by his hands.

She dressed quickly, pulling on his favourite skirt, an almost sheer button up shirt and a pair of heels, hoping to look as much like a librarian fantasy as she could, practically falling on her face as she skipped over to her colonel's office, high ponytail swaying with every step as she bounced along the corridor, coming to a stop outside the impressively large room.

Rapping three times on the metal door, she heard Miles' voice ring out, somewhat agitated and gruff enough to send a shiver of delight down her spine.

She opens the door as per his instructions, announcing her presence with a soft, "afternoon Colonel, I believe you requested my presence," as she leaned against the cupboard on one hip, a smirk settled on her lips.

As he turned around in his chair, she watched his demeanour go from tense to relaxed, leaning back in his chair as his legs spread out invitingly, an equally mischievous smile settled on his lips whilst his large, yellow eyes scanned her form, and more to the point, her very tantalising outfit.

He blew out a low whistle, eyeing her up Wolfishly before he finally chose to speak. "Well ain't you a sight for sore eyes, why don't you come sit in my lap baby," he growls out with a grin, jutting out his chin as he pats one of his muscular thighs.

Gaia giggles, waltzing over slowly as she held his excited gaze.

"Lookin' like a damn' pin-up girl," he groans, quiet enough that she felt the words weren't for her as he reached over to grab his lover by the waist, pulling her in so fast that she tripped on the back of her heel, falling ungracefully into his lap, not that he seemed to care much at all, hands busy caressing her hips as he eyes her greedily.

"I can't stay long, I've gotta get to the lab for the afternoon shift" she pouted, shuffling into a more comfortable position on his leg.

"aw darlin' you're so cold, leavin' me when you look so damn good" he leaned into her ear to whisper further "I ain't gonna be able to get you off my mind sunshine," with a rasp, leaning his head down he took her earlobe into his mouth, sucking on the sensitive flesh before catching it in his sharp teeth making her squirm and press her palms flat against his chest to push him off before she combusted in flames.

"Miles!" She squealed, managing to pry him off, but his expression told her it would not be for long, his eyes practically swallowing her whole-she could almost see how he was peeling off each item of clothing clinging to her body.

Suddenly they were both sat erect, breathing heavily as they stared at one another in deafening silence, as a tension much heavier than they'd allowed themselves to feel before encased the room, it made Gaia shiver, a blush permanently set in her cheeks as she attempted to break the silence nervously, causing Miles to chuckle and look away briefly.

"So..." she shoots out quickly, placing a hand delicately on his shoulder as she shuffled again, feeling his hands tighten around her waist as if to give her the reassurance that he wouldn't let her fall. "I've got something to show you."

He raised an eyebrow in keen interest, his lip falling between his teeth as he gestured with one large hand. "Well you got me intrigued honey...what is this...surprise...you got for me?" He chuckles, using his thumb to rub slow circles against her waist as he awaits her little show.

Using his leg as leverage she hopped down off his lap, before beginning to peel up her skirt, revealing her little lacy g string and the mess of bruises covering her legs and ass. She gave him a little twirl so he could get a look at his handywork, most notably, the handprint on her ass that she was most proud of.

"seems someone got a little excited last night," she teased with a grin, moving to pull her skirt back down but surprised to be swiftly halted by a large hand ripping her skirt back up over her hips and pulling her in close.

"fuck, would ya look at that..."

She felt him massage the mark on her ass in wonder, but looking back over her shoulder, was surprised to see his expression clouded by worry, delicately tracing the dark blotches on her body.

"Did I go too rough on ya darlin'?" His voice sounded sincere, eyes flicking to hers in apprehension.

Spinning around quickly, she feels his grip on her waist tighten and reaches over to hold his face between her palms, speaking seriously "No, of course not, I'm alright Miles."

He appears to ignores her words, and leans his body down to kiss at the skin of her thighs, pressing his lips against every bruise as if he could kiss them out of existence that way, leaving her unable to do anything but stroke his hair between her fingers as he worships her legs.

"I never wanna hurt ya"

he speaks it softly against her skin, kissing his way up her leg until he pulls away a little to look at her face, fingers still caressing her waist and hips.

"I know Miles" she whispers, massaging his scalp and running her fingers delicately over the thick criss-cross of hair that lay heavy on his nape, before dragging her nails gently back up his scalp. A rough growl rumbled through his chest making her stomach swoop low, his fingers now dimpling into her thighs with increasing pressure.

"Thought it was you that said there was no touchin'" he grumbles, eyes flicking up to hers with considerably less of the golden hue reflecting in them, having been swallowed up by the enlarged pupils filling up almost his entire eye.

"That's only because you were turning me on," she grins, caressing his queue again with equal softness as she watches his eyes scrunch closed and his grip on her thighs releases, catching her off guard, suddenly wondering, with a twisting gut, if maybe she was hurting him.

"Let. Go."

He instructs making her chest constrict like a python had wound around her heart, squeezing until the blood stopped flowing and each beat felt delayed.

"I- I'm sorry Miles I-"

"Stop." He cuts her off, fists balled tensely at his sides until the veins in his forearms protruded beneath his skin. There's a stifling silence that settles around the room, sucking the air from her lungs as she awaited any sort of explanation of Miles' troubling actions.

She watches carefully as he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering open with a sigh and the twitch of an apologetic smile on his tight lips.

"Honey, I can't loose control with ya right now, I'll hurt ya real bad, god, I already did." He strokes a hand up her thigh sympathetically until it meets the short, secretarial skirt and he gently tugs it back down, running both hands over the material to smooth it out.

"What," she scoffs, "so you're not gonna touch me at all? I'm not a porcelain doll." There's annoyance laced in her tone as she turns her head away from him, tutting with a shake of her head as though he'd greatly offended her.

"Hey! stop bein' a brat. Yur bein' all whiny jus' cus I wont touch ya, I'm tryna look after ya!"

He all but barks with a snapping finger, the order making her demeanour switch like a light, head whipping back to his obediently with a somewhat remorseful gaze.

"well what's your boundaries then?" She half murmurs, wincing with regret for being so bold. Having him shouting down at her like this made her feel so stupid, and she wished she could have miraculously become invisible, or have invented teleportation in the few minutes since this conversation started.

"Hey, hey," a somewhat softer voice broke her out of her anxious thoughts, and her gaze flickers back to Miles Quaritch, getting up from his seated position and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't give me that look, I didn't mean to shout sunshine."

She gazes up longingly into his amber eyes, needing his approval so badly that she couldn't even muster a little of her usual defiance enough to remain annoyed by him.

"You can still touch me any way ya like, see," he pulls her hands up to rest on his lower abdomen, and she closes her eyes, feeling each breath pushing him closer into her palms. "Just not where I know ya always wanna- lil minx" he scolds half heartedly with a tap to Gaia's cheek, using one slender finger, making her pout-though her lips were still lifting at the edges.

"Deal," she tilts her head up and catches his wrist in her hand, pulling it out until she could slot her palm into his making him roll his eyes with a half bemused, half incredulous look.

"You gonna make me shake on it, really darlin?" He breathes, voice coming out like whisky, smooth and

"Mhm" she replies, pumping his arm "Only if the same rules apply to you Colonel Quaritch."

"Oh we're using full legal names now are we Darlin'? Well I assure ya I'll be just as respectful Miss Gaia Ambrose, I am a gentleman after all."

"Good. But just so you know, I liked it. The bruises. I like being marked up by you, like you own me."

He sucks in a harsh breath, fingers running down her sides with feather light touches, making her squirm away from the ticklish feeling.

"You make it so hard, don't you baby" he groans, and she can tell by the way he licks at his exposed canine and his eyebrows twitch that he's just itching to grab her.

"You can still touch me too Colonel" she says in a slightly affected, breathy tone, reaching for both his hands and placing them on her waist, wrapping them around her with her own palms until she feels him respond, tugging her into his chest.

She's eventually enveloped by that same silence as before, choosing to lay her head on his stomach, closing her eyes and feeling the way he gently massages her skin with his thumbs, one hand pushing against her back to keep her flush to his body.

"I'm so scared" His voice calls out to her, sounding so vulnerable that she's barely sure it belongs to him. Tilting her head, she looks up at him, her eyes encouraging enough that he doesn't need any comfort from her in words. "So scared I'm gonna hurt ya, I care about ya so much and I... someone sweet as you ain't meant ta be with someone like me, ya know that right?"

She frowns at the implication, never having seen Miles as anything but a little entitled and arrogant when it came to love, but now, in his arms, as he pours his heart out to her. It made her feel a little bad for never being so candid with him, continually hiding behind her own boundaries incase he left her.

"There's no one else I want. I like everything about you Miles, so don't be scared," she confesses, eyes never leaving his and him returning the favour with equal intensity as he wets his lips.

"Besides, I think you're sweet too" he scoffs at that, a grin fighting it's way onto his face as he finally turns away from her doe eyes.

"I just need ta go slow baby, that's all, I can't trust myself right now, just need some time, you okay t' wait for me Angel?"

She smiles earnestly, pressing a kiss to his abdomen before winding her arms around his waist as best she could, hoping that her actions were comforting him at least a little.

"Of course I am, I'd always wait for you Miles."

I love you. the words died as soon as they entered her brain, she promised herself she wouldn't be the first to say it. Not now. Not ever.

"What was it that you wanted me for after all? Don't tell you lied to have an excuse to see me?" She smiles, pressing her cheek into his navel as she hugs him a little harder, his own hand reaching down to smooth over her hair as he sighs in contemplation.

"I got ya something Sunshine," he replies, jutting his chin out in the direction of his desk, making Gaia bounce on her toes excitedly, releasing him to stumble over to his desk precariously considering the all too high heels she was wearing.

He's right behind her immediately, reaching over her much smaller frame to pick up a small zip lock bag before she could have a chance. Inside it was one of the very same fruits she'd given him to eat back when she'd been stranded in the jungle, god, it almost seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Thought you'd be missin the jungle by now, know how much you science freaks get a hard-on over that place, and knew you liked these, same as before right?"

She nods with slightly glassy eyes, containing emotions she'd never let herself feel usually, letting a shy smile wash over her features as she turns to look at him.

"Yeah, it's exactly the same," she whispers looking into his eyes as she leans back onto his desk using her palms to cushion her spine.

"You want it?"

She nods, "Yes please."

He pulls the round, plum-like fruit from the bag, placing it out to her in his open palm as she plucks it delicately from his hand, never looking away from his eyes. It somehow felt bigger than him handing her a piece of fruit, like a token of affection, the mere thought of him going out of his way to find and identify the thing making her grin wildly and a rosy blush dust her cheeks.

"Thank you Miles, I love it."

He grunts, folding his arms and watching her cradle the fruit like a newborn with a pleased smirk.

"You gonna eat it then or raise it?" He chuckles, watching her head shoot up like a startled meerkat at his words. Surprising him, she looks into his eyes as she quickly takes a bite from the soft fruit, answering his question with her actions, eyes fluttering closed and eyebrows Scrunching as the juice runs down her fingers and mouth.

Tongue darting out of her mouth quickly, she attempts to catch the liquid dribbling from the plum, yet failing miserably. Another hand is quicker to come to her aid however, large blue fingers wiping at her chin and lips as she hears Miles mumbles something about her being messy. And those same fingers return to his own mouth, sucking the juices off with a pleased moan, those goddamn fruits really were something.

"You wanna have some?" Gaia questions, tilting her head to the side invitingly as she beckon him closer, and who is he to say no. Stooping down in front of her, he nods, allowing her to push the unbitten side of the fruit to his lips.

Taking a bite into the tender flesh, his nostrils flare at the sweet taste, catching her wrist quickly in his own, he presents it to his face as the juice trickles down unbridled, painting the sleeve of her shirt.

"Don't let it stain Darlin'" He appraised, pulling her wrist to his lips, allowing himself room to lick a long strip up to her palm, catching the sweet nectar on his tongue like a cup, before kissing back down the same path hotly, sucking her sticky flesh into his mouth in the process, making her blush wildly, almost dropping the fruit in the process. "'almost tastes as good as you" He licks his lips, pulling away and releasing his grip on her with a wickedness floating in his eyes.

"Miles," she whines, tracing over herr wrist with careful fingers "That's so mean."

A low chuckle reverberates around the room, making her snap her eyes back up to the man in front of her

"That was mean was it? Here have another bite, don't wanna take it all from ya," he gloats, plucking the fruit from her fingers, meeting no resistance from Gaia, and holding it out to her lips, practically pushing one long finger inside of her mouth when she polished off the rest of the sweet fruit. She sucks at the remaining flesh around the stony pit, making no effort to avoid his fingers when they dipped into her warm mouth, tasting just as divine as the fruit they were holding-she thought.

Suddenly the stone was discarded carelessly on his desk and his hands were on her face and hips, long blue digits caressing the skin of her sticky, red lips.

"You gonna let me have another taste Honey?" He doesn't leave her room to reply as he dives down to her lips , tongue licking over her lower lip, and then past that, tasting her greedily, without bothering to let her catch up to him. And just as quickly as he's all over her, he's pulled back away, licking his lips like a predator as he stares down at her with a look that says,

I'm in full control.

"Can I kiss you?" She questions, not wanting to be yelled at like last time. Maybe this is what he wanted, her all weak and powerless under him- a small part of her wondered. Not being able to do anything without asking his permission first, maybe that was the real aim of his agreement.

Nodding wordlessly, he leans back into her until they were connected once again, flowing through one other and crashing like waves, starting out softly lapping at his lips, but growing in intensity until their hands were gripping at each other with ferocity, lips and teeth clashing, uncaring of the damage their actions could cause. He falls back, hands keeping her close, and with a squeal, she ends up being pushed into his lap, flush to his chest as he continues to defile her mouth with his tongue.

Nevertheless, through all of this, his hands stray no lower than her waist, her own gripping at his powerful shoulders, never daring to move further herself, the only hint to their frustrations being between the kisses they shared.

Pulling away at last, he lays back onto the floor with a groan, covering his eyes with his forearms, leaving her sitting cocked in his lap the position sinfully reminiscent of the night prior.

She reached out to jostle his arm, calling out to him, and he tentatively uncovers his face, catching her wrist in his hand, before looking at her fully, his other arm snaking under his head to prop it up against the hard linoleum floor.

A much softer smile graces his features now, the hand on her wrist creeping up to lay flat against her much smaller palm, before he bends his fingers, slipping them into the spaces between her own until their hands were interlocked.

"I have to go Miles," she whispers in the silence, hand squeezing at his every time he'd link and unlink their fingers, the chaste affection sparking an unknown feeling in her heart that she didn't want to loose.

"I know," he rasps, pulling her hand toward him, brushing his lips against her knuckles, making no move to release her despite his words.

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

Gaia arrives at the lab only a minute before the start of her shift, pulling her arms hurriedly through her wrinkled lab coat, mind still floating on a cloud. That was until she met eyes with her favourite lab partner, June.

"Hey Junie," Gaia calls, speeding over to her somewhat estranged friend, said lab partner's eyebrows shooting up in surprisingly judgemental fashion catching her off guard.

"Gai, I didn't know you had a second job as a playboy bunny," she giggles, bringing her into a hug, before pulling away to fully admire her getup, twirling her finger in a circle, to which Gaia complied, flushing with embarrassment.

"Hey, it's not that bad" she pout, fingers running self-consciously over the material of her clothes, as if she could add coverage to them using only her hands.

"Well I never said it was bad... I'm sure Colonel Quaritch loved it actually." She laughs again, tugging at Gaia's ponytail playfully before turning back to the task at hand. "Now, what's on the roster today? let me guess, collecting samples from a hundred of the same plants like yesterday?" She muses, leaning down to the lab sheet, before rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Oh, yes, exactly the same, aren't we lucky."

"mhm" Gaia lets out half heartedly. As the youngest lab techs, they always were assigned the worst and most repetitive jobs, the kind that would be given to robots if they had the money. Even so, it would all be worth it in the end, at least that's what she told herself.

They both worked in silence, dutifully sampling each and every item until their feet ached, eyes glazing over and hands shaking from the effort.

"One more and we're done right?" She questions, looking back over at June with a bouncy swing of her ponytail.

"Yep, one more and then were outta here."

"oh amazing" she smiles back, carefully placing the final helicordian into the blue plastic tray and measuring each spiral carefully before taking a cutting of the tissue.

"Hey, Gaia, me and Mike were wondering if you'd like to hang out this evening, we're going to the bar with some of the other scientists" she pauses eyes flicking over her before continuing "Would be nice to have one last drink before you head off to the next base tomorrow, you can bring Colonel Quaritch if you like..."

Biting her lip to suppress her grateful smile she nods her head "First of all I'm not dying June, but I'd love that! Come to think of it, Miles might be planning something with his troupes as a farewell, I'll have to ask him if he's free... but I'll definitely be there, what time do you think you'll head down?"

"Okay, okay" She laughs, pushing Gaia slightly "9pm sharp, come and get ready with me and the girls if you like, we'll just be in the dorm together, oh it'll be so nice to hang out again."

she kisses her cheek, winding her arms around her neck making Gaia blush a little at the affection, guilt swirling in her stomach for the fact that she'd traded so much time with her for other priorities...those being mainly to do with Miles Quaritch but, who's keeping score...

Either way, she walks elatedly from the lab, her and June both making their way to the cafeteria like old times, gossiping just as much as always,. It was almost enough to make her feel like nothing had changed over the past few months... almost.

To be continued

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#stephen lang #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #colonel quaritch #avatar #avatar movie #miles quaritch fluff #recom squad #recombinant miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #avatar miles quaritch

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cherry-cola-on-ice · 8 months

Note

Ok I have a another idea can you write Thomas Hewitt with a teen daughter who is in a relationship! Also love your work ❤️❤️❤️

Too young to feel this old

He should be happy for his daughter. You were, so why wasn't he?

Thomas Hewitt heard his daughter laughing on the phone, no doubt twirling the cord around her finger. She said a name, but all Thomas could hear was his heart beating rapidly in his chest. She laughed again and Thomas felt sick.

His daughter was light of his life.

Well, the second light in his dark life. I

t was hard for anything to take your place, you had dragged him outta of hell and straight into his own little heaven. Through sheer grit and determination, the two of escaped the hellhole of that Texan town. Started a life of your own.

When your daughter entered his life, he finally felt complete. He had you, a home and this little bundle of joy wrapped up in a pink blanket.

But that was sixteen years ago.

His hair was graying and he could feel his knees aching from the years. There was no doubt about it that he was getting older.

But she wasn't.

At least, she wasn't supposed to be. His daughter was supposed to stay his little girl forever, with pigtails and missing teeth smiles. Constantly asking her dad for help, asking him to play with her. Forever his baby.

Then she brought him home. This outsider trying to steal away his happiness.

He guessed that this intruder seemed nice enough. He worked hard and looked at his daughter like she hung the stars in the night sky.

Thomas huffed, walking away from the sound of his daughter's delighted giggles. He sat down on his recliner in the living room, trying to ignore the way his body creaked. You sat there on the couch, a old paperback in your hand.

Without even looking up at him, you said "He's good enough for her, Tommy. You just refuse to let it be. "

Thomas grunted, fingers tearing at the old fabric of the chair. You looked over at him, eyebrow raised "He is. And you know he is. I know he is."

If Thomas could speak, he would have some very not nice things to say to right now. As if you read his mind, you slammed your book down "Thomas Hewitt, you need check your attitude. Because all you're doing is making everyone else miserable. "

You stood up and placed your hands on his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks "She's your baby, I get that. And maybe if we could've had one more it wouldn't hurt so much. But she's growing up, rather you like it or not. And she needs us, her parents, to help her and trust her to make the right decisions. "

You stood back up, hands on your hips " He's and great boy, who's going to turn into an great man. Someone our daughter deserves. "

In the background, Thomas could hear the phone click, followed by a shout for you "I need help deciding what to wear tonight! "

"I'm coming, honey!" You shouted back, before turning to look at him "It's your choice, Tommy. Stay here and become a grouchy old man alone. Or... be the best fucking father this world has ever seen. "

Thomas blinked, thinking over your words. Maybe it wasn't his daughter growing older that scared him. Maybe it was himself. He laughed.

His daughter's boyfriend wasn't that bad.

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #answered ask #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt x y/n #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre

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quietlyimplode · 8 months

Text

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: day 7 - Radio Silence

Warnings: character death

Word Count: 1.9k (gif not mine)

Summary: Tony can find anyone, unless they really don’t want to be found, or they can’t be.

A/N: (character death pertains to none of the core team or associated, but to me feels just as tragic. There was no other way this could go.)

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

2013

NEW YORK

Tony sits staring at the computer. There’s a video recording of his friend in police interrogation, being accused of killing a man.

He watches closely and still can’t work out how he gets out of hand cuffs, but the most interesting part of the interrogation is when Agent Coulson arrives.

Tony watches in interest as Clint all but ignores the offer to join Shield and stalks off.

He’s so young.

Not that Clint is an old man now, but he just looks so small as a teenager, maybe early twenties. Likely by the stamp date he should know how old.

The video recording stops, and Tony turns to the next one.

Clint is older. It’s obvious by his demeanor and posture.

More like a military man.

Tony doesn’t like it.

He seems sadder, more serious and adult even though there’s only a year between videos.

He wonders what happened after that first one, because clearly something did.

Turning them off, he returns to the picture of Barney.

Steve had done a good job, given Clint’s description, and the picture had bounced across databases.

There had been exactly three hits.

One police record.

One military record.

And one picture he found out in Wichita Falls with a man matching his description as a drivers license.

It meant one of two things.

Barney was dead.

Or…

Barney really didn’t want to be found.

Natasha finds Pepper sitting at the window.

The expanse of it, makes it ones of Natasha’s favourite places.

She knows it’s one of Pepper’s as well.

They’d had many conversations at it, and she almost walks away as she sees Pepper reading.

Sometimes peace is hard won, especially for Pepper who seems to always be pulled in a thousand directions.

“Hey,” Pepper greets her and Natasha nods in responses

Apart from Maria, Pepper lends herself to be one of Natasha’s closest friends, even though she’s sure the red head does not feel the same.

It’s okay though, Natasha never feels like she expects the relationships to be equal.

“You look deep in thought,” Pepper comments, moving over and placing her book away.

Natasha sits as offered; and thinks for a moment.

She sought her out, and now… she wasn’t sure.

But who else to have this conversation with?

“I. Clint and I,” she starts, “we want to get married.”

Peppers face morphs into one of sheer delight and happiness, and she hugs her spontaneously.

“Nat! That’s great news. Seriously? And you said yes? And he asked?”

Pepper smiles, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

Natasha sits, just far enough away, so that she doesn’t get another hug.

“Yeah, he asked, and I said yes, but we have to do some things before we can, you know.”

“Tie the knot?” Pepper supplies.

Natasha cocks her head.

“What?”

Pepper laughs.

“Sorry, euphemism for getting married. Continue, forget I said anything.”

Natasha nods.

“What’s the conditions?”

“Family,” Natasha says quietly.

“I have a sister, and Clint has a brother,” she confesses.

“Oh, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“We want to see if we can find them,” she says quietly, “maybe they can come.”

Pepper seems to understand, her quietness gentle as Natasha looks up.

“Where are they?”

Shrugging again, Natasha finds herself wanting to talk about Yelena. It seems safe here, and she rarely allows herself the luxury.

“Do you think people can be forgiven?”

The question is cryptic, deliberately so.

Pepper doesn’t answer.

“Do you think that there are things that are unforgivable?”

Unsure how to answer, she waits for Natasha to elaborate.

It’s a safe bet.

In the silence, Natasha tells her a story; a story of two girls in a strange land, learning how to be Americans. That she, in all her grief had made herself forget, forget the time they spent with each other, to make it through, lest it be held against her.

Pepper is sure she’s leaving out details.

But when she takes her hand and assures her that survival demands something else of people, Natasha looks grateful for the words.

“She’s alive,” Natasha says as though it’s the first time she’s allowed herself to say the words out loud.

“I just want to help her,” she whispers.

Pepper’s eyes well at the confession.

“Do you know where she is?”

Natasha shakes her head, hands in her lap.

“She’s alive though.”

“What about Clint’s brother?”

“We don’t know.”

Pepper frowns and bites her lip.

“Nat, you do realise you’ve set yourself an impossible task, or set of tasks?”

“Why?”

“You don’t know if they’re alive, let alone how to find them, and well, what if you can’t? Does that mean you can’t follow your own path? Get married?”

Natasha doesn’t answer.

“Tony’s looking for them, if he can’t find them, we’ll make a different plan,” she pauses.

“It is my path though, to find her, and for Clint to find him. Now anyway; and after the last year, there’s no time like the present, and if they can be; I want them to be there.”

She looks to Pepper.

“And you too, if you’ll come.”

Pepper grins and nods.

“I’ll be there, and I’ll help too, in anyway I can.”

They both look out the window, Natasha unsure what to say. They both know though, that if Tony can’t find them; no one can.

Tony finds him in the gym, he watches as he punches the speed ball, his agility his friend displays is mesmerizing.

The rattatatta of the bag is repetitive and Tony tries to wait with the information he’s holding.

“Clint?” he calls.

Nothing.

“Clint? Can you hear me?”

The speed ball stops and Clint turns around.

An easy smile greets him.

“News?” he asks, grabbing a water bottle.

There’s blood on his hand wraps.

Tony wonders just how long Clint has been punching the bag for.

He holds up the folder.

“Depending on how you look at it.”

Clint sits and opens the file.

Disappointment passes over his face, hope fading, as there’s no clear location.

“You couldn’t find him?”

Tony knows when to admit defeat. There was no leads no matter how much he searched over the last four days.

“I can’t find him, but I have a last known location, somewhere I think he was.”

Clint doesn’t say anything.

“Clint?”

Tony feels he knows. He’d had hope and now it was fading.

“Where is it?”

Clint asks.

“Wichita Falls,” Tony laughs. “A town that has many people and none at all.”

Clint nods, “yeah he would go there, he’d be invisible but there’s enough space for him to do his own thing.”

Tony points to the picture he found, and Steve’s sketch.

Clint is silent, deep in thought.

“Are you going to go?” Tony asks.

“How can I not?” Clint replies.

“The world almost ends, and I don’t know if my brother is dead or alive. Maybe it’s about time I go see if I can find him.”

Tony sees the serious soldier, and it’s at odds of his friend the joking archer.

Whatever this is for Clint, it changes him.

“I can go with you?”

Tony offers it, trying to add conviction. He knows it’s not his place.

Clint looks through the pages again, almost desperate. Tony wishes there were more.

“No, I think, it’ll be okay, Nat will be there, we can.. We got this,” Clint replies, scattered as he gathers the pages.

He looks up, face serious and guarded.

“Thanks Tony, for all of this.”

He stands.

“Any news on Yelena?”

Tony shakes his head.

“That’s going to take me a bit longer I think, there’s a server that keeps making the information bounce. I’ll catch it though, and maybe when you’re back, I’ll have more information.”

Clint nods.

“Our plane is fueled up and ready to go, you can fly right?”

The generosity isn’t lost on Clint, and he stares at his friend, he’s lent him a plane and called it “ours”.

“Why?”

Tony shrugs.

“It’s what I’d want someone to do for me, I guess.”

Clint holds his hand out to shake Tony’s and when Tony clasps it, he pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, man,” he whispers.

It takes Tony a second, but he hugs him back

“Uh, no problem.”

2013

WICHITA FALLS

Clint sits pilot seat, staring as the plane is moved into the hanger.

Natasha hands him a water and they sit in a comfortable silence.

“Do we have somewhere to stay?” she asks finally.

Clint takes a second.

“Barney used to sneak candy into the house to give to me when I couldn’t stop crying. He’d tell me to suck on it because it would stop my sobbing.”

He pauses.

“My sobbing would aggravate my father to follow me and tell me he’d give me something to cry about. I grew up with Barney, and loved him, and then we just… never saw each other again.”

He stares, and bites hard on his lip.

Natasha watches, as she’s so good at doing.

“What if his radio silence was better for the both of us? Together we were chaos. Alone; maybe we had more of a chance. Do you think he knew that?”

He doesn’t wait for Natasha to answer rhetorical questions.

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t come back for me.”

Natasha feels the stab.

“Maybe he just couldn’t,” she responds, slightly defensive.

He softens, feeling the blow he’s landed on her.

“Yeah, maybe he just couldn’t.”

There’s a small pub out on the edge of town.

It turns out they knew Barney.

The bartender is an older, wisened man whose beard is as long as his arms.

Natasha stands back, as Clint asks the question, and they both hold their breath.

“Why do you want to know about Barney?” the man asks, suspiciously.

Clint swallows.

“He’s my brother,” he responds.

The man softens.

“Oh.”

He stops wiping the bar.

“You’re Clint?”

The man talks of Barney as a friend, and throws the keys to a woman, Natasha assumes to be his wife.

“I’ll be back,” he tells her.

He takes them on a walk to a small apartment on the outskirts of town, he has sadness in his eyes, and he tells him Barney was here. That this, the little apartment on the first floor, was where he lived.

“We served together,” the man tells him, “I convinced him to come here… some difficulties with memory, some impulse issues… he needed someone to watch his back, until… you know.”

Up until his death.

A quiet death, and a loud life.

He tells them stories of Barney’s ability to drink anyone under the table, and laughs as he reminisces on how they stayed up one night and just threw darts.

“I lost so much money that night, did you know he had good aim?”

Clint swallows and nods, trying to take on the information.

His brother.

He wasn’t a good man, but he wasn’t a bad one.

Bachelor for life and a contradiction at that - someone who spent all his time gambling and smoking; but also taught basic martial arts to kids at the local YMCA.

No children. No partner.

But a legacy all the same.

There are no words for panic and grief Clint feels.

His brother.

His protector.

It’s too late.

He’s gone.

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scribbling-dragon · 1 year

Text

Watcher’s Nest Café

Chapter 5

summary:

It’s a slightly warmer day than the past few days have been. Which isn't actually that much of an achievement, but it’s something, and so Scott is taking a moment to enjoy the sunny weather. Even if he steps outside and it would still threaten to freeze his scales off, the slightly warmer weather is enough to put him in a mostly good mood.

“Thank you,” he smiles at the customer, handing their drink over to them. The cardboard of the take-away cup is warm beneath his hand, even through the leather of his gloves. The customer glances at him, taking their drink with a squeaked out “thank you” before darting away to join their friends.

(ao3 link)

(masterpost)

(3,456 words)

“I think you scared him.” Jimmy comments, leaning on the counter beside him.

“Really.” He stares after the customer, watching as he escapes the café quickly, glancing back once to see him still watching. He smiles again, just to watch the way he pales. “I couldn't tell.”

“I know you can do a nice smile,” Jimmy nudges at him, pushing him slightly to the side. Scott sways with the motion. “Not your whole,” Jimmy gestures vaguely, “baring your teeth in more of a threat smile.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my smile.” Scott knows exactly what Jimmy means, he perfected the smile a long time ago with nothing but a mirror and sheer force of will. His smile can be very nice when he wants it to be.

“I know,” Jimmy laughs, pushing off the counter to return to the till. “You managed to charm me, after all.”

“Doesn't take much to charm you,” Scott reminds him. Martyn’s sat at the front bar, accompanied by Cleo. Pixl had dropped by this morning for a quick chat whilst he waited for his tea before running off to whatever lessons he has. “Need I remind you of how Tango charmed you?”

“No.” Jimmy flushes, wings twitching as he looks away. He pretends to count the money in the till, even though Scott watched him do that twenty minutes ago, and they've had three customers between then and now. And they certainly don't need any extra change.

“Uhh, I want to hear that story,” Martyn leans forwards, bracing his forearms against the front bar to get closer. “Pretty please.” Cleo snorts at that, and Martyn shoots her a look from the corner of his eye before looking back at Scott.

They've sat next to each other several times over the past few days, since Cleo made a reappearance from wherever it was they disappeared off to for the week before that. Scott wouldn't say he’s an empath, but he’s pretty good at reading people. And those two have definitely met before and, if his guesses are right, it didn't end in the best way. Cleo watches him with barely concealed suspicion, as though they're waiting for him to do something stupid.

That expectation isn't far off, because he’s watched Martyn spill his drink down his shirt three times in the past five days, as well as drop one of the brownies on the floor and then stand on it. He’s certainly sweet, and rather endearing when he tries, but his grace leaves something to be desired.

“Oh, yes.” He grins at Jimmy, all sharp teeth and humour. “I would be delighted to tell you this story.”

“I wouldn't.” Jimmy inputs, but Scott ignores him. If Jimmy really wanted him to stop, he’d try far harder to shut him up, really, Scott is doing him a favour by sparing Jimmy from having to explain it himself.

“So, Jimmy was walking around the university, during one of the first few weeks that we were here. He was lost, not really sure where he was or where he needed to go, and looking for someone to help him. Now, unfortunately for our darling Jimmy,” Jimmy flushes, “it was nighttime, and most people had already been sensible and returned to wherever they were sleeping that night.

“And then, out of nowhere, he hears this really loud sound. Moments later, no less than a minute later, he smells smoke. And, like the smart person he is, he runs in the direction that the smell is coming from.”

“Good thing I did.” Jimmy mutters. There’s a customer at the till, watching their small back and forth with interested eyes. They pay, pressing the money into Jimmy's hand without thinking about it. Jimmy’s got a trustworthy kind of face anyway, the kind that people can't help but trust- Scott really needs to show him some sleight of hand tricks, especially for the customers that are rude to everyone but him.

“Oh, yes, very good,” he nods along, before leaning closer to Martyn as though what he’s about to share is a secret. “Jimmy had been moping around my dorm room for weeks, because he hadn't been able to get himself a date for ages and ages since we broke up, and, really, I think this was intervention from the heavens. Any longer and I’d have probably throttled Jimmy.”

“Wouldn't have helped with the rumours you killed someone.” Jimmy reminds him. The customer, waiting at the counter for the drink that Scott needs to start on in a minute, widens their eyes. He smiles at them, a little bit softer, not wanting to actually get reported to the police. It doesn't seem to help much.

“You know I wouldn't kill someone, dear,” he smiles at Jimmy’s back, hearing his scoff. “Anyway, we’ve got our heroic little canary, running towards the source of the smoke rather than away. And he finds it: a small fire in one of the engineering labs, from someone staying behind later than they should have and experimenting with far too many different things at once.”

“He’s creative,” Jimmy defends, turning around to frown at Scott.

“Yes, yes, we’ve all heard.” Jimmy flushes at that. Jimmy is a chatty drunk, and also a lightweight. They have had many, many conversation that have quickly devolved into Jimmy just gushing about Tango, most of which he doesn't remember the next day. The few videos Scott has of him are evidence enough. They remain unreleased to the public. “Tango yelled for Jimmy to toss him the fire extinguisher, because he was busy trying to make sure his other projects didn't catch on fire. And-”

“Scott,” Jimmy whines. “C’mon, he doesn't need to hear the rest of the story.” Cleo laughs behind her hand, ducking her head when Jimmy turns his glare on her. If anything, she laughs harder, shoulders shaking as she tries to muffle her laughter.

“No, I'm intrigued now, you gotta tell me.” Martyn looks up at him, eyes shining with amusement. It takes every bit of willpower in Scott for his breath not to hitch at that moment, watching as the sun appears from behind a cloud and hits Martyn’s face. The moment only lasts a second because Martyn winces away from the light, squinting his eyes to continue watching Scott.

“Jimmy dropped the fire extinguisher on his foot.” The sound of Cleo’s head thumping against the front bar reaches his ears. They've heard the story several times over, but it never fails to amuse them. He can feel a grin tugging at his own lips, cheeks beginning to hurt slightly. “He still managed to toss Tango the fire extinguisher, almost hitting him in the head with it. Tango put the fire out and took Jimmy to A&E.”

“A&E?” Martyn asks, a laugh bubbling beneath his words. His smile causes the edges of his eyes to crinkle, causing him to squint even more than before, the sun still in his eyes. “You had to go to A&E?”

“He broke his foot,” Scott tells him. The customer is still waiting, but they seem just as intrigued by this story as Martyn, covering their laugh much more effectively. “He had to hobble around with a cast for a month, but luckily for him,” Jimmy scowls at him, “Tango was more than happy to walk him to his classes and carry his bag for him.”

“He also bought me coffee.” Jimmy mutters. “More than you did for me.”

Scott nods. “I laughed at him when he phoned me. And then drove to pick him up because Tango doesn't have a car.”

He turns to start making the customer’s drink, smiling and nodding at them in a thanks for their patience. He takes the ticket from Jimmy’s outstretched hand.

Steam hisses from the machine, drowning out whatever conversation Martyn has started with Jimmy. It takes him less than a minute before he’s setting the drink in front of the customer, smiling, a nice smile this time, and watching as they leave a two-pound coin in the tips jar and leave with a merry jangle of the bell.

It’s a quieter day than usual, something he’s not going to comment on in fear that it might cause a sudden influx of people- just spontaneously creating them out of thin air to prove him wrong.

He leans against the display, one arm lying across the top. Martyn’s watching him, absently stirring a spoon in his half-empty mug. He taps a few fingers against the glass, looking over what cakes they still have, tallying up what they’ll be able to sell tomorrow and what he needs to ask Pearl to make.

“What’s up with the gloves?” Martyn asks, pointing with his spoon when Scott doesn't immediately respond.

He hums, stretching his hands out and looking at his gloves. The white of the leather is bright compared to the dull purples and greys of the rest of the café. The only spot of colour on them is at the wrists, on the small leather strips that are used to tighten the wrist.

“I made them.” He responds.

“You made them?” Martyn’s eyebrows raise, and he looks over Scott’s hands again, more appreciatively as he takes in the gloves. Scott’s rather proud of them as well, turning his hand around, rotating the wrist, to give Martyn a better look. Even as his skin prickles with the attention on his hands.

He can feel Jimmy watching him, stood slightly closer than normal. He can feel the warmth of his body right next to him. Cleo watches him as well, her eyes narrowed as she stares him down. He refuses to meet either of their stares.

“Some of my proudest work,” he confirms. “Took me three weeks. Leather’s not very nice to work with, just a bit too thick for me to be comfortable.”

Martyn nods slowly, still holding his spoon loosely. It looks as though it’s going to drop it at any moment with how loosely it's being held. “But why wear them all the time?”

Jimmy stiffens behind him, but Scott gives no reaction. No outward reaction, still continuing to watch Martyn.

“My hands get cold.” He steps back from the counter, retrieving a pad of paper to start tallying up what Pearl needs to bake. He doesn't raise his eyes to look at Martyn. “I'm part-fish after all.”

“But they're leather,” Martyn says. “Leather doesn't keep your hands warm.”

“My hands get cold.” He repeats. He doesn't look up, and Martyn doesn't ask again.

Jimmy, wonderful, lovely, slightly stupid Jimmy, commented on how quiet it was just ten minutes ago. Ten minutes ago, the café had been peaceful, hardly any customers there, no-one but Cleo sat at the front bar. Martyn, for once, wasn't there. He hasn't been in at all today, likely attending classes.

Scott isn't bothered by his absence. Even if Cleo keeps catching his eyes as they drift over to the front bar, quirking her eyebrows at him in question. He’s not looking for him, really. Cleo didn't seem to believe his silent communication of this, and she still looks doubtful.

Ten minutes ago, he’d had the time to think about Martyn’s absence. Now, he barely has time to think outside of making drinks and taking orders, allowing Jimmy to run about the shop. The mild weather of yesterday compared to the cold of today has made his leg ache something fierce, worse than if it had been a gradual descent into cold rather than a cold snap. Jimmy had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be limping around the café today.

Scott had scoffed at it at the time and told him not to boss his boss around. But he’s grateful for it now, leaning against the counter and taking some of the weight off his leg as he works on a drink.

He sets it on a saucer, sliding it across the counter for Jimmy to take out to a customer. He turns back around, wiping the steam wand down, and preparing to start the next drink when the entire café falls silent.

He turns around, suspicion and apprehension already clawing at the corners of his mind. Jimmy stands in the centre of it, wings ruffled and face panicked. But he doesn't take his eyes off of the woman in front of him.

Scott steps up behind the till, ignoring the ache in his leg from how quickly he’d twisted on it. The mug, along with the drink, are on the floor. The mug seems to have survived the impact, lying unharmed.

The woman seems less impressed by this, leaning towards Jimmy, jabbing him in the chest with an accusing finger. Her nails flash like talons, poking into Jimmy’s chest with each word, as though to punctuate it.

He steps out from behind the counter, sweeping past the front bar and the several people currently sat at it, towards the epicentre of the mess.

“Excuse me,” he says, frowning when the woman ignores him, continuing to berate Jimmy. He clears his throat. “Excuse me.” He repeats, louder than before. The woman turns to him with a scowl and coffee spilt down her front.

It’s staining her coat. A coat that Scott remembers because she wears it every time she comes in. Insufferable woman. She’s rude to everyone, including him, but most of all Jimmy- people normally like Jimmy. He’s a sweet guy with a smile for everyone. It’s hard to dislike him. He hasn't been able to ban her from the premises yet, hasn't been able to threaten her with anything because he has nothing beyond a few snide comments on canaries and sirens.

“Did you need something?” She snaps, her voice imperious.

“Yes, actually.” He smiles at her, all polite and sharp edges. “Jimmy, dear, go take your break.” Jimmy puts up a small protest, something that dwindles quickly when Scott raises a hand, not taking his eyes off the woman. “Please, you've been working for several hours already and it’s almost your lunch. Take your break.”

Jimmy hesitates a moment longer, before disappearing into the back. Scott watches the door swing shut from the corner of his eye before he focuses back on the woman.

“Was there a complaint you wished to make?” He asks, smile sweet. Everyone in the shop is watching them, eyes fixed on the spectacle that’s undoubtedly about to go down.

The woman sniffs, attempting to look down her nose at him. A hard feat indeed, seeing as she’s at least a foot shorter than him. “Your staff are incompetent.”

“Really?” He raises his eyebrows. He hears someone laugh, then choke it off and turn it into a cough as the woman’s gaze rakes over the people behind him. “Do you have any examples?”

“Your…canary,” the woman gestures towards where Jimmy just disappeared, “spilled coffee on me.”

“I can see that.” He says. “I do apologise for the inconvenience, but the shop is busy and mistakes do happen.”

“This wasn't a mistake,” the woman frowns. She’s wearing some awful, bright purple lipstick and it’s taking all of Scott’s willpower to not ask if she’s colourblind. That would be rude to colourblind people, to lump this woman in with them. “He’s a canary, he brings disaster with him wherever he steps. Having him working here is a hazard.”

“He’s perfectly competent. In fact, many people find him rather nice.” He smiles at the woman. “It is also against the law to discriminate against someone based on their species; implying that he’s a hazard to have around simply because he has a higher chance of bad luck is just plain rude.”

“Don't speak to me with that tone, young man.”

“I apologise for the tone you are hearing, ma’am,” he nods his head, “but I am trying my best to keep it neutral.”

“If it helps,” one of the other customers speaks up, a student from one of the studying groups, “she stepped backwards into him, rather than him running into her.”

Scott looks back at the woman.

She seems a little flustered now, “Well, he shouldn't have been in the way.”

“I think you might have been in the way rather than the other way around.” He says.

“You listen here, young man,” she raises her hand to poke him in the chest, her nails like claws. He cuts her off, hand circling around her wrist, pressing hard against the watch there. She gapes at him for a moment, mouth wide and flapping as she looks for words, failing to come up with them as she stares at him.

“I think I've heard enough,” he is very careful to keep his tone neutral, his grip loose. “I would appreciate it if you would leave. We are busy right now and if you wish to make a formal complaint you would be waiting upwards of an hour. If the complaint is still playing on your mind after that, feel free to return and make the complaint.”

The woman wrenches her wrist from his grip and he pulls his hand back to his side, curling it into a fist. The leather of his gloves creaks quietly.

“Fine,” the woman sniffs, turning on her heel and striding from the café. He watches her go, the bell ringing loudly in the silence left behind, the customers all staring at him.

He claps his hands together with an only slightly awkward laugh. “Apologies for the interruption, please, feel free to return to your drinks and conversations.” He turns then and, hoping his gait doesn't look too stiff, walks back behind the counter.

Martyn has made an appearance, he realises, between the start of the rush and now, presumably before the woman started complaining too, because Scott would have noticed him entering then. Cleo watches him too, though they lean over the counter as soon as he’s behind it, close enough that their conversation won't be heard over the nervous conversations just starting back up.

“What’d you get?” She asks, peering curiously at his closed hand. “Anything exciting?”

“Who’s to say I took anything?”

Cleo levels him with a look that tells him he’s not kidding anyone. He laughs, unfurling his hand to reveal the woman’s watch.

“Scott!” Martyn gasps. He glances over at the till worriedly, waiting for some customer to realise what he’s done and run after the woman. But no one stands at the till, everyone that had apparently been waiting for drinks magically disappearing. He stares at the empty space for a moment longer, long enough that Jimmy emerges from the back, door swinging shut behind him.

“It’s not even real,” he bemoans, turning the watch carefully beneath the light. “It’s a cheap knock-off.”

“Disappointing.” Cleo sighs and sits back. “It was loose enough around her wrist anyway, she’ll probably just think she lost it.”

“And by the time she comes back, if she comes back it’ll be long gone.” He shoves the watch in his pocket, pretending not to notice the way Martyn’s eyes linger on him. He doesn't know whether he’ll be able to look at the man, just to realise that his eyes have filled with disgust, or something similar, when Scott’s begun to look at him so fondly.

“Couldn't you have stolen her necklace?” Martyn asks, breaking the silence between them. “Looked far more valuable.”

The relief Scott feels is palpable, enough to make his knees feel weak. He steadies himself against the counter, clearing his throat a little awkwardly as he summons his words from where they've retreated.

Cleo watches him with a knowing smile. He glares at her.

“Nah,” he manages, hoping it doesn't sound like he’s choking on his words. It feels like he’s choking on his words. “The gem on that necklace is fake. A pretty piece of glass.”

“Bummer.” Martyn says, and that’s it.

Well, that’s it, except from the knowing looks both Cleo and Jimmy give him. Nuisances, the both of them.

#juno.writes #watcher's nest café au #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #trafficshipping #majorwood #coral kids #mean gills #limited life mean gills #limited life scott #limited life martyn #limited life smp #empires smp #trafficfic

131 notes · View notes

ellievickstar · 2 years

Text

Another Kind of Love

Summary: With Azriel’s terrible track record with females of course another one would not be any different….right?

Ship: Azriel x Reader, Cassian x sister!reader

Genre: angst ends in fluff

Warnings: Insecurities, over bearing males, self-hate, comparing self with others

Inspiration: I thought about making this inspired by the song “Heart breaker” but decided against it and now this.

A/N: @cityofidek I hope you like it and to everyone else who does not understand a word of the story. I didn’t proof read it I actually don’t proof read any of my work so good luck I know when it’s POVs it is technically 3rd person but bear with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassian’s POV:

Cassian had to watch it all. From Gwyn to Mor to one of the Archeron sisters. His brother certainly could not choose. He was frustrated with his brother because he knew that Azriel more then anyone deserved to be happy. Cassian himself had Nesta, Rhysand had Feyre, Amren had Varian and Elain had opted for Lucien in the end.

Cassian sighed before pinching his nose when suddenly a letter appeared in front of him. It was from his sister:

Dear Cass,

I know it has been a while since the war. The female legions are going home for the Winter Solstice and to spend time with their families before coming back in two weeks. I’m going over to the townhouse right now as I send this. Don’t worry big brother, I’ve already sent a letter to Rhys and please tell Az that I said hello! If you can even find him before I arrive.

Love,

Your still very lovable sister, Y/N

Cassian snorted at ‘lovable’. Annoying was a better word to describe the little scoundrel, but she and the rest of his brothers got along like family. Cassian had been given the young girl when she was a babe. All he was told was that she was his sister and that his mother wished for him to have her before the other Illyrians had killed her. One of her friends ran away with the baby to bring it to Cassian.

That was the same day he had gone berserk on the males who harmed his mother. But when he returned at the end of the day, he had held his sister in his arms, looked into those warm hazel eyes and he had known inside that he wanted to take care of her. Since then he taught her everything, how to fly, walk, handle her Illyrian power, even stick up to Devlon. She had delighted in the fact that she needed more siphons then him and Azriel, and he had pretended to be envious of the little girl, but inside all he really felt was sheer pride for the girl. Rhysand had also helped with her powers, she had been gifted similar powers to him so he spent his time training her, even though him and Rhysand was often at each other’s throats.

Then there was the blood week in the mountain….

He shuddered at the memory. She had succeeded, but she had been alone. Not like him, Az and Rhys. No she had gone up that damned mountain and had touched that stone alone. The will of a warrior, but the weeks he spent next to her, tending to her wounds that were so deep you could see bone…he did not want to think of it.

His sister was now a commander of her own legion, full of females. They were treated like males, fairly. They bonded well, the whole camp was sisters, in their own way. He smiled at the thought. His sister was able to build a whole camp to house many females. Not all, but it made an impact and to a lot of people that was enough. Not to her though, she always strived for more.

It wasn’t long before she came knocking on the townhouse’s door, Rhysand practically flung it open with a wild grin. She laughed as he enveloped her in the tightest hug before Cassian interrupted.

“You know she is supposed to be my sister,” He folded his arms as he leaned against the wall closest to them. She chuckled as he wrapped her arms around him, “To think you said you hated me,” “You drank the last bit of the wine I brought out!” She just burst into laughter again and slapped his forearm before hugging him, again.

Just then Azriel swept into the room, smiling for once as he took in the sight of her. “Where is my hug?” He teased as he opened his arms for her. They also got along, even when the three of them were adults and she was just a child there was always a click between the shadow singer and his sister.

That is ridiculous. Cassian thought to himself. Yes there is only a fifty year difference between them, but Azriel would never date my sister. However, as he watched his sister laugh with Az, he was not too sure about that. And the way Azriel looked at her…

No, Az could not like his sister, he would never allow that. Not when Azriel pines over someone new every other few decades. He looked over at his sister again, together with his almost-brother. They could not ever think to date each other, right?

Oh they absolutely could. Rhys’s voice echoed in his mind and he instantly glanced at the High Lord. Rhys just shrugged and continued to look at the pair that was still embracing each other, still. Annoyed, Cassian stepped in.

“Okay break it up, we get it,” He made his annoyance evident in his voice as he pulled them apart. “Don’t need to be jealous brother,” Y/N teased but that ticked him off more then she knew so he just glared at her. A general ordering his commander. Little did he think that he would find that the commander would fight right back. She glared at him, a challenge. She would tolerate his overprotectiveness especially after the wars but this, with her best friends, she would not stand for it.

Just as a brawl was about to start, the females of the inner circle came back from their little shopping trip for the winter solstice. Mor paused at the door before running to Y/N, the tears evident in her eyes. “I haven’t seen you since the war against Hybern!” Mor laughed as they hugged and cried. Feyre just stepped into the house, slightly confused, Nesta did not say anything and Amren just smirked at the woman slightly. That was when Cassian realised that the Acheron sisters had never really met his sister.

“Ladies, this is Y/N, my sister by blood,” Cassian stumbled over words as he glanced at Nesta, whose shoulders suddenly seemed to droop with relief, she smiled warmly at Y/N. Feyre’s eyes seemed to gleam before asking, “Older or younger?” Oh no. “I’m younger then Cassian by half a century,” Y/N’s smile was like a Cheshire Cat. “So you are familiar with annoying these brutes?” Feyre pushed further, her smile widening. Y/N looked just about ready to plot Cassian’s demise and he knew it, he gulped and so did Azriel and Rhysand. They were no stranger to her antics.

At least their getting along? Azriel spoke to them mind to mind. Rhysand rolled his eyes. Please they would get along regardless the only thing that would deter them would be if she ever caused us immense trauma.

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows before asking. Is causing us pain as children from all her mischief not trauma already? Azriel almost burst out laughing and Rhys’s shoulders shook with the effort. Feyre, being able to hear the whole conversation with her power shot them looks that might have killed them if she really tried.

Before long Y/N was tired and she needed to unpack her bags in the room that was usually for her when she came over. Which was not as often as before since she was busy after the war. Unfortunately, now she would be coming over a lot more since she promised Mor, despite the three Illyrian males’s protests.

Nuala and Cerridwen also had to interrupt the reunion because supper was almost done. So with the snap of her fingers Y/N’s bags was in her room and she was in her hoodie and pants. Contrasting to some people’s expensive taste in clothes, Y/N preferred hoodies, shirts, pull overs, jumpers and pants. There were times she wore skirts but only if she felt like it. Cauldron knows what happened the last time someone tried to force her into wearing something she did not want to wear.

Cassian huffed a laugh at the thought and followed the rest of the inner circle, and his mate, to supper.

Y/N POV:

Supper was as good as I remember especially with Nuala and Cerridwen cooking. The two wraiths had always been friends with me since I met them when Rhys first brought me to Velaris. They were also my favourite people to cook with, Mother knows the males cannot cook a meal to save their lives. No, they could only cook meat on a stick, over a fire. I had yet to thank Nuala and Cerridwen for keeping them alive.

Feyre and Nesta were absolute delights to be around, though Nesta was slightly protective of her mate. Understandably so but to think that I would ever date my brother of flesh and blood. Naseau rolled in my gut. Please, I would not even last a day, I would kick him out of the house.

Amren was as per usual, although she was Fae now, she still had that uncanny aura that made her terrifying, but of course I missed her. Cassian and Rhys were just as annoying as the last time they visited my camp but they have been for the past five centuries. I think I would be more afraid if they stopped bothering me all the time. Even when I was busy after the war and the cauldron, they still came by occasionally to make me go insane. And Azriel…

I looked at the shadow singer beside me and he flashed me a small smile before going back to eating, it made my heart flutter slightly, I chided myself. Azriel has liked so many other females, what makes you think he would like you? Might as well stop while you are ahead. Besides, your brother would kill you. Speaking of my brother, Cassian was wolfing down his food, lifting his head once in a while only to pick out bones from his meat just to toss them at me.

I would glare at him but he would ignore me. I knew if I told him to stop he would, but I did not say anything, I didn’t actually mind. Besides the fact that the bits of meat that stuck to the bone got matted in my hair sometimes. Cassian would never mind if I dated anyone, but his best friend and almost brother? Now that was cruel, or so says all my romance novels I enjoyed reading.

I sighed as I pushed around the remaining food on my plate.

“Y/N, are you not going to eat any more food? You barely touched anything,” Feyre asked, concern was evident but I shook my head. I had never eaten a lot as a child until now. It was a bad habit, yes, but it was what I was used to. I used to be insecure and there had been a time the lack of eating had stemmed from a fear of becoming overweight, but it was a really long time ago I figured that I just did not really like to eat.

“No, Feyre it’s fine the food is as good as I remember I just don’t eat a lot. You can ask the three males they have tried to force me to eat but I just don’t like eating in general,” I explained.

“Unless it’s chocolate,” Cassian chipped in.

“Or cookies,” Rhysand muttered.

“Or sandwiches but it has to depend on the day. Peanut butter is a good snack and she likes chocolate syrup the most during the night. However, if you touch the ice cream she most likely stored in the fridge she will and can slit your throat unless you promise to buy her more. Also for chocolate she prefers white because she finds dark way too bitter,” Azriel added. Well, added was an understatement.

I gaped at him. Not even Cassian knew so much about me especially about my snacking preferences. Rhysand looked positively delighted while Cassian was torn between throttling Azriel, being the overprotective brother he is, or laughing at the fact I was so defensive about ice cream. Azriel just continued to eat as if nothing happened. Feyre, Amren and Nesta shared what looked to be a knowing glance and I was confused.

Yes, Azriel knew a lot about me, apparently, but what was the big deal? I knew plenty about Azriel too, like how he preferred dark purple because it reminded him of Rhys especially during Amarantha’s reign. Azriel enjoyed his shadows because they usually whispered to him when he was lonely. There were times they got too overwhelming which were the days he brooded the most.

However, as much as I loved Azriel, secretly, for the past three centuries. He could never reciprocate my feelings, he could have any female in all of Velaris for cauldron’s sake! The thought made me sick, Azriel could never love me. Never.

I stood suddenly. Apologising, saying that I was tired from the journey here, since I could not winnow. And as I walked down the hallway, tears slid down my cheeks. Azriel could never be mine, it echoed in my soul, rung in my head.

“Wait, Y/N!” Azriel called, “You forgot your- are you crying?” And as I looked up at the male. The bond snapped into place and for a second hope flared in my heart but Azriel did not seem fazed at all. Then it hit me.

The bond had only snapped into place for me. Only for me.

Mother was cruel after all. Azriel’s eyes still flooded with that worry and I shook my head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine Az,” I tried so hard for my voice not to crack. Az did not seem convinced but he passed me my bracelet, the one that Cass had given me when I was younger which I had taken off for supper and had left at the table, before he strolled back to the table.

My mate, the bond was there when I reached down. And as I turned to my room and closed the door, I thanked the mother that at least I had one, even if he could never truly be mine.

I changed into my nightgown which was really just an oversized shirt that reached my knees and lay down for a bit, maybe tomorrow would be better.

THE NEXT DAY

I blinked against the steady stream of sunlight through the window. It was dawn, which meant that I needed to get up. I stretched my wings. Time to train. Changing into my Illyrian leathers, I tied my hair into braids, grabbed my weapons belt and brought along my favourite daggers.

Cassian was at the dining table eating breakfast with Azriel. I smiled at both of them, my gaze lingering on my mate before I took some chocolate and began to eat.

“That’s it?” Cassian asked. “For the Mother’s sake you’re going to train!” I shot him a look that promised a slow death if he said anything else, but he just shrugged and went back to eating.

It was not long before Cassian and I were sparring, Az long gone to spy on some court for Rhys.

“So,” Cassian started as dodged my attack, feigning right trying to hit my side but I easily avoided him, “Az tells me you were crying last night,” He blocked as I delivered a swift punch, aiming for his face.

“And?” I asked as ducked under his fist just to sweep my feet to cause him to lose balance, he did, just for a second but it counted as I attacked and he fell to the ground. I flexed my body, stretching my wings.

“Mind telling your brother why?” I shook my head as I took out my blade, flipping it in my palm. The blade was one of my favourites i had named it ‘mortifer’ Cassian had laughed at the name since it quite literally meant bringer of death. I sighed as I angled the blade, “It’s just that Az is-,” “For Azriel’s sake he better not have hurt you,” He but in as he sharpened his own sword.

I huffed out a breath, “Azriel is my mate,” I admitted. Cassian stilled. And like the very fiery Piet of a volcano, his eyes turned to molten lava.

Cassian’s POV:

There was a ringing in his head as he turned to his sister. No, no, no. She couldn’t actually be his best friend’s mate. But one look at his sister and he knew that she was not joking.

He was going to kill Azriel. Inside he knew that Azriel deserved happiness but his sister? That was a line, and they were toeing it. Unable to control his anger he flew back to the town house in a fit of rage as he called for Rhysand mind to mind, leaving his sister calling to him to get his ass back to the training ring. He was not thinking straight, he knew that but he didn’t care much.

DID YOU KNOW!? He yelled at Rhys through the mental link in their heads as he tried to search for the High Lord.

Did I know what? Rhysand asked disquiet was crystal clear in his voice.

My sister and our dear fried Azriel, who is going to die, are mates! Mates! He gritted his teeth as he flung open the final door in the town house where Rhys could have been but nothing. Rhysand seemed to be laughing and Cassian almost snarled, almost.

I’m happy for them but have you considered that Azriel doesn’t know? Rhys question flipped a switch in Cassian and he realised that he had left his sister alone, she was probably scared. He knew she could hold her own but he needed to go back, to help her. And maybe, just maybe, get answers.

Y/N POV:

Cassian had left in a fit of rage, probably to go throw a tantrum but I prayed to the cauldron he wouldn’t tell Azriel anything. The beat of wings could suddenly be heard from a distance and as my eyes looked to the sky, I huffed a sigh of relief as my brother came into view, landing in front of me. His face like the harsh night sky in the mountains.

“Does he know?” He asked smoothly, arms crossed. I shook my head so he continued his questioning, “Are you going to tell him?” I shook my head again.

“Why?”

The question made me freeze because it did not come from Cassian, that voice had come from the shadow singer who know stood behind me. Cassian growled at Azriel and Az, for all intents and purposes, seemed all to read to snap back at him. Mother, give me patience or a dagger for these two.

“Cassian go home,” I ordered, the command in my voice was like steel, but I was quaking on the inside. Cassian was about to contradict me but something flickered in his eyes, my happiness, Azriel’s happiness, or his own need to protect his sister. There was a choice there and I waited in trepidation as Cassian looked torn between the two options.

Fortunately, he paced back a few. Steps before shooting into the sky. I sighed, taking down a mental note to thank him later. Azriel coughed from behind me and as I whirled to face the shadows singer, he looked sorrowful, disappointed.

“Is having me as a mate that bad?” His voice was quiet, so quiet. “No, it’s just-,” I looked at him again before gesturing to the whole of Velaris, “You could have anyone in the whole city, any female. How could I compete with that?” My tone grew heavier with every word. That was when I was swept off my feet, my wings draped heavily as Az carried me to the town house and brought me straight to his room.

“You are my mate,” He deadpanned as he hugged me the second he set me down, “You are more beautiful then any female in Velaris. Mins,” He was muffle as his face was buried in my hair. I giggled at the war sensation of his breath that skittered down my scalp to my neck.

“In tha case,” I started, reaching down to my pocket to pull out an almost melted chocolate bar, “Eat it,” I offered. And he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Imma let your imagination flow for this one. This got long so it took so long to write, I’ve been writing this since Thursday and for me it’s Saturday in the morning. Anyways, I hope you guys like this one cause I did <3

tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @starlit-terror @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123 @bookworm-nerd6 @gigisssz @bethany-bee0128 @cityofidek

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heliads · 2 years

Note

Lisa, I'm so sorry for a lot of requests but I'm honestly just really excited to read what you write! So I'm here again with another request for peter pan because I live for when you write for him. <3 So can I ask for prompts 21 & 28, fluff please 🙏

Ps. You don't have to write this if you've got a ton of requests already, please know that I never want to force you to write something under pressure! ❤️

-AU Anon

never apologize for requests peter is a king

masterlist

It is late in the afternoon when you realize that you love him.

It was not supposed to happen like this, if it was ever supposed to happen at all. The sands of time were meant to keep falling, to repeat these days over and over again in your blissful stretch of immortality until you had no idea when one century ended and the other began. That’s what Peter Pan promised to you when you first arrived at the island, after all: endless excitement, endless joy.

Endless being the key principle of the thing. Part of the delight of Neverland is that it goes on forever. There is no real event to break up the repetition, for no good thing dies here, not really. Your days are spent like your nights, long and leaving you weary, full of adventures few could even dream of, let alone have for real.

You have it all here, it’s what he promised you, and Peter has never let you down in all this time. It’s a shame, then, that you have to be the one to ruin things. Once you realize that you love Peter, you could never go back from it. Your thoughts have been contaminated now, a once crystal clear spring running red with blood.

The realization comes upon you by chance, a total accident yet one that you cannot take back. You and Peter are walking through the forest on the way to some last minute archery practice before dinner, talking idly and making things up to pass the time. He’s got his bow in hand, you watch as he casually nocks an arrow and lets it go. The arrowhead whooshes right past you, and when you look up, you know.

Across the clearing, the arrow thuds into the trunk of a tree, the echo beating in time with the drop of your heart into your stomach. Peter’s still saying something, but you’re not sure that you’ve heard the last few sentences of it. All you know for certain is that you have stopped thinking of him like he was a friend, more that he was someone you wanted to keep and never let go.

Peter does not do well with such things, such cages. He was born to leave it all behind, to fly above the treetops or plunge into the forest with such reckless abandon that he would outpace even his closest compatriots. Being a Lost Boy means that you get to try and keep up with him for as long as you can, the effort makes it exciting, but it will never last. Peter Pan has magic, you do not. Peter Pan will have you here as long as he can, but your love could never tie him down forever.

With a great degree of effort, some of it seemingly beyond your control but necessitated by the sheer knowledge that Peter Pan will find you out eventually if you start acting differently around him, you force yourself to return to the conversation. He’s been talking about strategies for the Lost Boys for the last five minutes or so, lost in that sort of manic glee he gets when bloodlust comes to the table. Someday, you’d love to think that he would talk about you with that same all encompassing delight, but not all dreams are meant to last in Neverland.

Despite your renewed efforts at appearing otherwise fine, Peter finds you out soon enough. He pauses for a moment in his reckless scramble through the forest, fixing you with a shrewd look.

“You haven’t been paying attention, have you?” He demands.

You flash him a chagrined smile. “Not as much as I could have, maybe, but I do remember some bit about pirates.”

Peter groans. “You’re distracted again, aren’t you? I swear, you spend half your time in fairyland.”

You laugh. “We live in fairyland, Peter. I think I’m more than allowed to let my thoughts rest in my own home.”

Peter swats you on the shoulder. “You know what I mean. Next time I decide to launch a surprise attack on the pirates, I might hand you over to them instead. Spend a good few years swabbing decks and you’ll miss my rambling, I can promise you that.”

You snort. “Maybe I’d have such an excellent time on board a pirate ship that I would never think twice about you or your ramblings. I’d launch a mutiny and take out the captain within a week. Next time you see me, I’d lead a fierce and deeply loyal crew. I’d be the envy of the high seas, Neverland included.”

Peter’s face darkens. “I should hope not, I can’t stand pirates. They’re terrible creatures. If I had my say, I’d let the mermaids drag their ships down beneath the surface the second they so much as show a single patched eye near our shores. Their waterlogged hats and peg legs would make fine kindling when the winter comes.”

You stare at him, a faint smile playing on your face. “I like that you’ve clearly put some thought into this before. You fascinate me.”

Peter cuts a quick glance your way. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

You lift a shoulder. “I haven’t entirely decided yet. Maybe I will once you stop merely obsessing over pirates and actually commit to drowning them all. Your mad plans are nothing without decisive action, you know.”

“I would have thought you’d be telling me not to murder a bunch of pirates,” Peter comments.

“You clearly don’t know me very well, then,” you say simply, and leave it at that.

The two of you have arrived at the archery training grounds by now, and you walk away from Peter to rejoin the other Lost Boys. When you risk a glance over your shoulder, you notice that Peter is looking at you with this strange expression on his face, as if he can’t decide what to make of you. Or himself, for that matter.

You’re clearly not the only one who’s noticed Peter’s perturbance, however. A shadow falls on the ground near your feet, and seconds later a quiet voice sounds from behind you.

“Should I ask what you and Pan were talking about to make him have that look on his face, or would it be smarter to just stay away from the whole thing?”

You laugh and turn to face one of your best friends on the island. You and Felix are Peter’s left and right hands on Neverland, but instead of trying to do something unnecessary like compete for the titles, you’ve just grown to like Felix far better than the rest of the Lost Boys. He’s dangerous in a more silent way than Peter, the knife behind a back instead of out in the open.

He’s also rather funny when you give him credit for it. “Usually, I’d warn you away from our general mischief, but nothing’s happening,” you tell him. “I think Peter always has that expression whenever he talks to people instead of simply trying to kill them.”

Felix arches a disbelieving brow. “Not a chance. Pan only gets that sort of dumbfounded expression when he spends time with you.”

You cast him an incredulous look. “Now you really are joking with me. Nothing out of the ordinary is happening.”

“Not for you,” Felix contradicts, “but if any other Lost Boy had a conversation that long and that intense with Pan, they’d walk away from it thinking they were about to die. I’ve never seen Pan like that with anybody else. Believe me or don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

You look at Felix sharply, but Peter is striding briskly over to the archery targets and addressing the Lost Boys at large, so all conversation must be forgotten from the time being. Even after the two of you step away to your respective places in the shooting line, however, you can’t stop thinking about what Felix had said.

Surely he can’t be right. You’ve seen Peter talking with plenty of other Lost Boys on occasion, even Felix himself for that matter. Peter might not always be as verbose with some of the newer boys, but that’s just because strangers are so deathly afraid of him that they don’t dare say anything more than a couple of syllables.

You suppose your own fear wore off quite a long time ago, if it ever existed at all. Come to think of it, has there ever been a time in which you didn’t see Peter as a friend, a compatriot, someone to love and lose all in one? He has never been anything but close to you.

Maybe Felix was right, then. Maybe Peter does truly look at you differently, because of everyone here, he didn’t have to fight for your heart. It has always been his, even if you didn’t realize it until now. Peter is used to his conquests, his bloody victories. No wonder he’s confused with you– you never put up a fight.

This is the tune of your thoughts throughout archery practice, and you use your confusion and conflict to send your arrows thudding into the center of the target time and time again. There is no greater motivation than that wielded by a broken heart that’s been patched and mended, saved and stolen until no trace of it outside of grief and hope could ever possibly exist.

It must show on your face, this war going on inside your chest, because Peter seeks you out again once the training session is over. You’re removing the last of your arrows from your target when he walks over, casual as can be.

He leans up against the side of your target, head tilted towards the sky above. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to guess?”

You arch a brow and continue pulling out the arrows. “Why would something be wrong?”

Peter exhales harshly and tilts his head over to look at you. “Because I can tell when something’s wrong, obviously. I’ve always been able to read you like an open book and you know it.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself. “Yeah, you definitely have.”

The sarcasm bleeds through the words, and Peter picks up on it in a flash. “What does that mean? You have to tell me.”

You roll your eyes at his tone. “So demanding, Peter. It’s not very nice of you.”

He bears his teeth in a wolf’s grin. “I’m not very nice and you know that. I take pride in it. Now, what could you possibly mean?”

You take an obvious glance around at the groups of Lost Boys still milling about the place. Peter takes the hint and starts to walk away towards a less populated area of the island. You consider the possibility of just staying here and ignoring the conversation altogether, but you know Peter enough to guess that he’d just track you down later. Peter is a bloodhound when it comes to secrets. In all honesty, it comes as a surprise that you’ve been able to hide your own at all.

At last, you gather up the last of your courage and hope as your sword and shield, and follow your heart into battle. Peter is waiting for you on the outskirts of the clearing, and the two of you stroll in silence before Peter decides that you’re sufficiently out of hearing range of the others and stops again.

“So,” he says, “what could you possibly be hiding from me? I have known you better than anyone else since the day you arrived on my island, Y/N. No secret could possibly be hidden from me.”

He’s looking at you with that familiar grin, a hint of a challenge burning behind his eyes. In truth, you think Peter’s excited by the chance that you might not be all he ever pictured. Peter Pan delights in the chase, the hunt. Here at last is a suitable opponent.

You fold your arms across your chest. “Maybe I keep my secrets for good reason. Why should I tell you?”

Peter’s brows raise. “Because I run this island and I could kick you off of it if I suspected you of dishonesty?”

You scoff. “Shallow threat. I’d like to see you get rid of me.”

Peter doesn’t exactly deny this, a point in your favor. He switches to the attack soon enough to make up for it. “Then it’s important, this secret. Does it concern me?”

You do your best to seem unconcerned, but something in your face must give it away, because Peter’s eyes flash with victory.

“It does!” He crows.

You roll your eyes. “It’s your island, Peter. Don’t you love reminding us of that? Many secrets on Neverland would have to do with you in some small way.”

“It’s not that,” he muses, “I can tell. Alright, it has to do with me, something you don’t want me to know, something important that you wouldn’t tell me under pain of death.”

“If I wouldn’t tell you under pain of death,” you comment wryly, “why do you think you’ll be able to get it out of me now?”

Peter ignores this. “Actually, I think I have an idea of it.”

You don’t particularly like the knowing look in his eyes. “And? What’s my secret, Peter? What am I trying so hard to hide?”

“I’m not going to tell you immediately,” he retorts, “I want to check if I’m right first.”

You cock your head to the side, curious, but before you have much time to question it Peter abruptly closes the distance between the two of you, sealing the mystery with a kiss. There’s one quiet moment when you think your heart might explode out of your chest, and then he’s breaking away and you have been found out once and for all.

“Looks like I was right,” he breathes, although he doesn’t seem half so unaffected as normal. Instead, the delight in his eyes is genuine, not that of a tormenter but someone who has been waiting for a moment like this for an eternity. For the first time, you wonder if you might have been wrong to doubt Peter ever loving you.

“Alright, then,” you say, barely managing to pull yourself together long enough to form the syllables, “you know my secret. What do you have to say for yourself now?”

The corners of Peter’s lips twitch up into a smile, the first honest one you’ve seen on his face in quite some time. “Only that I have a secret of my own.”

He whispers something in your ear, then walks past you back out of the forest. You only catch a brief snippet of syllables, and then he’s gone, disappeared back into the waving thickets of green:

“I love you too.”

ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie, @lost-ender

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lucienarcheron · 9 months

Text

A Simple Request [ Elucien ]

Prompt: A still shy Elain finds a different way to tell her mate what she wants. Inspired by a tiktok that no longer exists but it was cute, trust me XD. |

Genre: Hehe. Warnings: Lots of feels?

Lucien blinked at the delicately folded note that fell in his lap then looked up to find Elain, standing sheepishly a few feet away. His brow quirked up at the flush in her face, how her hands were behind her back, and one foot crossed in front of the other. “What’s this?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I know you’re reading and trying to relax but um — you should read it.” she said quickly. “And then uh — you can let me know what you think.”

He tilted his head, watching her curiously. “What I think? About what?”

“About what’s in the note!” she said, the flush in her cheeks deepening as a little giggle escaped her. “I’ll be in our room. Waiting. To hear what you think.”

Lucien watched her scurry off and slip into their bedroom, a short chuckle slipping from his lips as he eyed the bedroom door left slightly ajar. He shifted his attention back to the mysterious note that smelled of his lovely mate and gently unfolded it.

A wide grin bloomed on his face as he read the greeting.

My handsome love,

Things between us have been so deliciously passionate and I love the way you make me feel and how I feel myself come alive with your touch.

I recently read a new novel that included many...scandalous things that I had never thought about before but can’t stop thinking about. The whole time I was reading, all I kept imagining was you doing all those things to me and...I really liked it. The scenes included silk ties and...a crop. I would like to try them with you.

I was hoping, if you’d be so kind, I’d like you to respectfully disrespect me like the harlot that you are. I am yours to do with what you’d like, my lord.

Love,

Your eagerly awaiting mate.

Lucien had slowly doubled over as he reached the end of the letter and let out a soft laugh at such a polite request. He was grinning so fucken hard, he was sure his face would be split in two and quickly stood, adjusting himself because his body had caught up to Elain’s request before his mind could process it.

Stalking to their bedroom door, he slowly opened it fully and leaned against the doorway, pleasantly surprised to find his lovely mate seated in the middle of their bed in a sheer nightgown that did little to calm his raging hard-on.

He held up the piece of paper between two fingers. “A letter?”

Elain licked her lips, roses blooming on her cheeks as she fidgeted with the edge of her gown. “I thought this was a more...appropriate approach than simply throwing the book at you.” she said quietly and then started laughing at the wide grin on his face.

“Appropriate?” he said, his tone low as he slowly stalked towards her, shedding his shirt in the process. “None of my thoughts are appropriate when it comes to you, little dove.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” she said quietly, grinning widely as he climbed the bed and immediately covered every inch of her body with his. “What do you think of my request?”

“I think it’s a request I’d be more than happy to fulfill.” Lucien said with a smirk, looking down at Elain’s flushed face. “Any reasons you didn’t use your words to tell me?”

Elain ran her hands through his hair then down his back, a sheepish smile on her face. “I — I felt embarrassed.”

Lucien hummed and narrowed his eyes. “Embarrassed? To ask me for things I’d be happy to provide you with?” he said, his thumb caressing her cheek. “There’s nothing embarrassing about asking for what you want. I’m sure you can feel exactly how much I like the idea you’re presenting.”

“I do.”

“Have you ever felt embarrassed at all the other times I’ve respectfully disrespected you before?” he asked with a pointed look and another giggle slipped from her lips.

“No.”

“Good. The only feelings you should have are satisfaction and delight at being fucked properly.” Lucien said and raised a brow. “Do you feel those things when I play with you?”

Elain flushed deeply and nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Yes. I feel those things very much.”

“Then it sounds like I need to go buy a few things and return quickly to fulfill my mating duties properly.” he concluded with a grin, but Elain tightened her hold on him.

“I already have them.” she whispered, and Lucien’s lips twitched as his brows shot up.

“Do you now?”

“It was a sneaky operation that may or may not have included using a certain High Lady’s name.”

Lucien let out a laugh that had Elain giggling along. “You used Feyre’s name?”

“No one bat an eyelash and I wore a hat with sunglasses.”

He shook his head with a smile before he finally leaned in and gave her the kiss he’d been eager to give the moment he walked in the door. Elain responded eagerly, a breathless moan escaping between the kisses, and fire erupted between them as their tongues began to play. She lifted her hips, grinding against him and Lucien pulled back with a groan.

“You coy angel. You love tempting me.”

“Maybe. I’m also not wearing anything under this gown.”

“I noticed.” Lucien said tightly and Elain laughed in response. He kissed her fiercely once more, his hands tangling in her hair as she wrapped her legs around his waist and Lucien ground into her. Only when he felt her melt beneath him did Lucien finally pull back and gave her a stern look.

“This is how the rest of this evening is going to go,” he began, and Elain’s eyes lit up in excitement. “I’m going to make you come all over my tongue as an appetizer before I flip you over, tie your hands with those silks you’re interested in, and fuck you with little to no mercy.”

“Will you use the crop?” she whispered eagerly.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” Lucien said with a dark chuckle. “We’ll ease into it to see if you like the sting.”

“I like the sting when you use your hands.” she continued in a whisper and Lucien’s grin turned wolfish. “So, I think I’ll like this too. I like trying anything when it’s with you.”

Lucien’s gaze softened, his heart squeezing when she smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but kiss her again. “I like everything when it’s with you.”

“Thank you for answering my letter so quickly.” she said sweetly. “You have an excellent response rate.”

“You asked so politely. How could I make you wait?”

Elain bit back a smile. “And what else do you have planned for us this evening, my lord?”

“Well, I really want to watch you roll these lovely hips while you come all over my cock. So, after I’m through with you the first time, I’ll give you a little break, then have you ride me until you can’t take it anymore.” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low and Elain’s toes curled as her whole body heated. “After that, I’m going to have you ride my face until you come again and then I’m going to have you spread under me to fuck you one more time before the night is over.”

“Will you use the silk ties the whole time?” she asked quietly, licking her lips and Lucien smirked.

“We’ll see what you can handle,” he replied pleasantly. “How do those plans sound for the evening, my lady?”

“They sound exactly like what I had in mind.”

#elucien #elucien fanfics #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #gfics #fic: a simple request

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blackknight-100 · 7 months

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A Vrishasena backstory fic, written for our very beloved writer @the-lekhika . Happy birthday to you!!

It is a bitterly cold night in the month of Magha when Supriya’s first child slips into the world, kicking and screaming. His newly hatched lungs pull in the scent of misty air and his father's perfume, and his Uncle Duryodhana says, “Strong as an army, this one. Let him be Vrishasena.”

Little Vrishasena is four years and a day old when he first sees the Imperial Palace at Hastinapura. The dome shines in the diffused morning light, and it looks to him that it is drenched in liquid gold. His father laughs when he says so and puts a large hand upon his head. “This is not even half of it, little one.”

The doors are polished wood, carved with gods and gargoyles, higher and wider than those at Anga. As his father greets Uncle Duryodhana with a smile and a hug, he spies two curly heads behind the mahogany monstrosity.

“Namaste,” he says politely, with a bow of his head like Maa taught him. “I am Vrishasena, son of Karna of Anga.”

One of them, a younger boy, smiles up at him, wide and trusting. “Lakthman,” the child says, words dragging through his lisp, and Vrishasena is in love.

It is Drona who takes over his tutoring when Vrishasena turns eight. Mother is very unhappy about it, but Father shakes his head. “Drona is the best option, unless you want him to do what I did,” he says.

Mother wrings her hands. “I mislike that man, and that he comes to court.”

Father pats her on the shoulder. “It will not be long, dearest,” he says, and Vrishasena listens carefully. He would return a grown-up warrior, and surprise everyone. The thought of it puts a smile on his face, and he is not so scared to go away alone.

Drona's aashram is noisy and big. When he gets down from the rickety cart that ferries all the students to and fro, he sees Lakshman and Lakshmanaa standing on the dirt track, clutching mud-coloured satchels to their chests. He runs up to them and gives them a hug and laughs at the shock on their faces.

“Father said there was a surprise for us!” Lakshmanaa beams at him. “You were the surprise, weren't you?”

“Maybe,” he says, although he is no less astonished. “Do you like it?”

“Yes!” the twins shriek, and Vrishasena feels warmth flood his chest.

On the third year of his schooling at Drona’s aashram, Vrishasena gets a letter from Anga. No one is allowed to send or receive letters from home, and thus any correspondence brings with it the promise of ill-news.

He takes it from the messenger with some apprehension, and the twins come to look over his shoulder.

“Dear Vrishasena,” reads his father’s slanting script, and for a moment Vrishasena – who had thought the worst – forgets to breathe.

“You have a brother!” Lakshman screams right next to his ear, with no respect whatsoever for his privacy, and Vrishasena has to flinch from the sheer volume of it.

“We read faster than you,” Lakshmanaa – who has somehow snuck into the boys’ residence – beams happily. “This is so sweet!”

Vrishasena finally manages to master his relief and reads through the rest of it. His brother is newly come to the world, born only a few weeks ago, on the last of Sravana’s rainy evenings.

“We named him Vrishaketu,” Father writes. “It only seemed meet, since you are Vrisha-sena.”

He reads those lines again, presses the letter to his heart. Behind him, he can feel the twins shifting, and then their little arms hugging him. He pulls them close, and relishes in the joy lighting up his world.

Vrishaketu joins the aashram the year Vrishasena turns nineteen – and he thinks he has never known greater delight. His brother comes the same way he had taken eleven years ago, on the same rickety cart down the same dirt track, although the horses are new. He is tall for his age, with Father’s bright face, and Mother’s compassionate smile, and Vrishasena all but runs to him.

His brother lets out a full belly laugh as he lifts him and spins him around, and then Lakshman (and Lakshmanaa – who is, at this point, the sneakiest woman in existence) are clamouring around him, and he has to kneel down so everyone can hug each other.

He does not know it then, but it would be the happiest he would be in a long time.

A year later, twenty years old and a warrior through and through, Vrishasena leaves his sobbing brother and the heartbroken twins and for the first time in more than a decade, goes home.

Anga is all decked-up for his return, and the citizens hold out their hands to him as he passes. His chariot rolls past no less than eighteen groups of men with drums around their neck, and as the capital comes closer, the air thickens with the fragrance of sweets and syrups.

It is, however, the sight of his parents waiting for him, Uncle Duryodhana and Uncle Ashwatthama flanking them, that brings tears into his eyes. He leaps off his chariot and runs the last few steps to his mother’s embrace. His father wraps his arms around them, as if he could shore them up by strength of will alone, and Vrishasena sinks into that warmth with a sigh.

Half a year later, Vrishasena meets Arjun for the first time when they visit the newly made palace at Indraprastha. No one he knows speaks well of the Pandavas, and he is… not curious, precisely, but interested.

The man in question is tall and dark, with a shock of hair tumbling from under his glittering crown. He greets them with a courteous, albeit stiff, smile, and a regal tilt of his head, and introduces Vrishasena to his son Abhimanyu.

Vrishasena quite likes Abhimanyu. The young prince is quick-witted and sharp-tongued, and for a while, he might as well have been back in Drona’s aashram. Abhimanyu takes him by the arm and shows him around the new palace, away from the clamour of visiting royalty. They sneak away to the kitchens together. His companion offers him sweets with a wink and a giggle, and it occurs to him they might now be friends.

Vrishasena would have been willing to follow Abhimanyu around all day, but they are princes still, and needed in the main hall. The kings gather there with solemn faces, seated straight-backed upon expensive chairs. Father catches his eye and frowns but says nothing.

There is an oddly tense atmosphere in the hall. The assembled Kings are silent and still, and Krishna, King of Dwarka, seems to be murmuring something placatingly to the recently crowned Pandava King. Uncle Duryodhana leaves his seat and marches up to the raised podium at the end, right up to King Yudhisthir’s nose, and starts a belligerent rant about punishments being kinder than crimes.

Vrishasena looks to Abhimanyu for clarification, but his friend is as bewildered as he is. Then Uncle Duryodhana whirls around, the edge of his fashionable shawl nearly smacking Queen Draupadi in the face, and strides away. “Come,” he orders. “We are leaving.”

The rest of his retinue gather themselves and follow him immediately. His father catches his eyes again. Abhimanyu pats his shoulder. “Go, before there is an even bigger scene.”

“Yes, I-”

Splash!

The two of them turn in horror. Uncle Duryodhana, Crown Prince of Hastinapura and arguably one of the most powerful men in Aryavart, sputters in a pool. It is so artfully crafted that Vrishasena is not sure he would not have mistaken it for the floor.

Around them, the kings are laughing, as are the Pandava brothers. Only the eldest, Yudhisthir and the Pandava Queen Draupadi hurry forward, appalled. To his horror, he sees most of Hastinapura’s retinue hovering around, unwilling to get in the water. It is his father who swims to the humiliated Prince and hauls him up, drenched clothes and all.

“Oh, Cousin!” Yudhisthir says helplessly, wringing his hands.

His wife is more sensible, as she bids a maid to bring towels. “My Lord,” she says softly, “we beg your pardon. Please do sit down. We shall-”

Uncle Duryodhana interrupts her mid-speech. “I will not stand for this,” he roars. “You play at being Emperor from a Kingdom my father gifted you, you try to steal what has ever been rightfully ours. You kill our allies upon your sacred fire, and scorn and humiliate those who have ever taken you since childhood!”

“Cousin, please,” Yudhisthir begins, but his brother, Prince Bheem interrupts with a taunting laugh. “Are you as blind as your father?” he jeers, and giggles fill the hall. The King and Queen turn with shock on their faces, but the damage is already done.

“You will regret this!” Uncle Duryodhana hollers, no longer caring about his dignity. “Wretched bastards of the forests, you will regret this!”

Red in the face and wet as a water-nymph, Uncle Duryodhana strides out. The titters quieten down to an uneasy silence. The promise of retribution hangs in the air.

Later, Vrishasena’s beloved father and uncles would reduce his cousins to paupers, would drag and disrobe their fire-born wife. There would be banishment and war and bloodshed, and the then warrior Vrishasena – bold and fleet and swift – would cut down scores and scores of people before falling to the cruelty of Arjun’s arrows – arrows of the man who had greeted them with a smile and given him a transient friendship. Vrishasena would die in pieces, not even knowing that he died by an uncle’s hand.

But that is far away. For now, Vrishasena bids Abhimanyu a hasty goodbye, and rushes after his father and uncles, worry tugging at his heart. The winds of Aryavart are ever changing, even for those yet too young to suffer for it.

#mahabharat #mahabharata #hindu mythology #karna #duryodhana #vrishasena #birthday fics #birthday fic #fics #abhimanyu #arjuna #krishna #lakshmana #lakshmanaa

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gobletoffeels · 5 months

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Warmth and Cheer

Summary: Sebastian and Genevieve decide to try out a Christmas concoction from Garreth. Chaos ensues.

Words: 2347 words

A/N: this is just a crack fic. Literal chaos. Stupidity. Hooliganry. Shenanigans. Enjoy!

Sebastian knew the holidays were always a bit difficult for Genevieve. The festive season always reminded her that she was away from her family. Her options were either heading back home, back to the strain of looking after her sickly father, with the painful reminder of her absent mother – or staying at Hogwarts, while plenty of her friends filtered out back to their families.

Sebastian, however, always chose to stay at Hogwarts. He’d become quite used to it, and year after year, found ways to make it every bit more festive. He even managed to rope Ominis in one year, who was painfully obliged to head back to the Gaunts each time.

This year was no different. Sebastian burst into the Room of Requirement – a space he knew Genevieve would likely be hiding out – carrying an abundance of bottles, flasks and potions.

“When I put these things down I better not see you sulking, Gen.” He called out, his voice slightly muffled from the sheer load of items that obstructed his view.

Genevieve turned her head to see her idiot boyfriend powering through the tranquility of her space. She smiled softly.

“Sebastian, I’m fine.” She said, walking up to help the poor boy out with the stacks of items. He was an absolute hazard to society and to himself.

“What is all this?” She began to place the items down on the nearest potion table.

Sebastian huffed as he finally put everything down.

“Right, so Garreth has been going on about his festive potion-making kit. He’s been relentless on getting someone to try it, but no one’s stupid enough to take whatever Garreth’s offering back home to their parents…”

Sebastian began to unpack and arrange the items across the desk as he continued

“…except I felt bad for the poor bloke. And he’s helped my arse out a lot in potions this year, so I said I’d try it out since I’m staying here. And because you’re regrettably attached to me, you’re trying it with me too.” Sebastian beamed at her with his signature smile that Genevieve knew only meant trouble – the best kind of all.

“A ‘festive potion-making kit’. What in Merlin’s name does that include?” She picked up a mysterious glittering green bottle.

Sebastian meticulously organizing the bottles, as if he were taking the whole task very seriously, began to unravel a small piece of parchment attached to the kit. Sebastian read it out loud.

“Festive greetings, potioneers!

Enjoy the whimsical wonders of the Christmas season with the bottled warmth of Christmas Cheer! Simply mix in all your ingredients and let it bubble away for two turns of an hourglass, and guzzle it down for instant delight.”

Sebastian stifled a laugh, “Supposedly it bottles the feeling of ‘Christmas cheer’. Seems pretty straightforward.”

“Just add all the ingredients?” Genevieve sidled up next to Sebastian now at the potion station. If they were going to do this, they were going to do this right.

“Mmhm! Okay – cauldron’s on. Good. Bottles all here. Doesn’t seem to have a specific order to it, just keep an eye on the hourglass.” Sebastian ran the station with precision, for someone who wasn’t very good at potions, he had a remarkably orderly way of running things.

The Room of Requirement began to heat up with the steam and fumes of the bubbling concoction, as they swiftly added each bottle to the cauldron, and then bracing themselves for any adverse reaction before adding the next. With each bottle added, both Sebastian and Genevieve grew more comfortable with the brew. In fact, it started to emit a lovely, deep and warm scent of cinnamon, firewood and hints of sweetness. A true festive scent.

Genevieve brought her head down towards the cauldron to take a whiff, “You know…I think it’s actually working. It smells lovely.”

Sebastian was far too preoccupied with watching the hourglass to stop and smell. He hadn’t noticed that the humidity and steam of the potion had now left his tufts of hair in disarray and fluffed up, no doubt from the amount of times he inadvertently ran his hands throughout as he concentrated deeply.

She found this quite endearing. Genevieve brought her hand to his head, neatening down his hair a bit, as his gaze was left fixed on the potion station.

“This is quite fun, isn’t it? Thank you Seb—“

“It’s done!” He blurted out. He apologized for cutting his girlfriend off, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Wanna try it?” He looked down into the cauldron. Genevieve peered her head into it as well.

“Um…you go first.” She said.

“Scared?” Sebastian chuckled.

“A potion kit? From Garreth? Yes, I’m scared.” She raised an eyebrow.

“But Gen, nothing’s happened! Look – no explosions, the thing smells normal. I think the worst is over.” Sebastian looked earnestly at her, “Let’s do it together, okay?”

Genevieve sighed.

“Fine. Grab two bottles below.”

Sebastian reached down to the shelf and began to pour the brilliantly crimson red brew into the flasks. It looked perfectly harmless, if anything, quite inviting. The colour had a shimmer of glitter in the light, with swirls of gold across it.

He handed a bottle to Genevieve, and then linked his arm with hers.

“Bottoms up?”

“Bottoms up.”

They threw back the concoction quickly, Genevieve didn’t dare linger. She squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation for something truly horrible to happen.

And nothing did.

Sebastian looked at her blankly, perhaps he had also feared the results just as much, based on the trepidation on his face.

“Do…do you feel anything…?” He said cautiously.

“…no. Maybe it takes a bit of time?” She replied slowly. As if any sudden action would trigger the potion.

Sebastian stood very still, before finally taking a step towards the cauldron, making sure that they definitely drank it all. He scoffed as he saw it empty.

“Typical of Garreth, to give us a potion that doesn’t even work…” Sebastian’s arrogant smirk returned, crossing his arms, before uncrossing them again, loosening his tie a bit.

Sebastian fumbled with his collar a bit, until he decided to take the entire tie off. Pulling at his collar as he did.

“Anyway…let’s get out of here. Far too warm here with all this brewing.” He stuffed his tie into his pocket as he began to fan his shirt slightly. Beads of sweat starting to form on his face.

“Gosh, it’s warm in here isn’t it?” Sebastian’s face started to flush.

Genevieve looked perfectly fine compared to him.

“Seb, I’m fine. You on the other hand are staring to look as though you’ve just run a marathon.” She began to giggle at Sebastian’s disheveled appearance. And truly, his tufts of hair that Genevieve lovingly neatened were now starting to frizz up, patches of sweat pooling around his chest and underarms. His face started to sport a dewy shine.

And by the time either of them had registered Sebastian’s state, his shirt was now getting completely drenched with sweat. His hair now sticking to his forehead, and his face completely flushed red.

“I’m—I’m hot. God, it’s so warm. Can’t we open a window here?” He began to pace around the room, his hands absentmindedly touching surfaces of the wall hoping that they would reveal some kind of opening.

Genevieve always found Sebastian’s antics funny, but this tickled her in another way that she couldn’t help but find particularly funny. She barked out a laugh she didn’t know she was holding.

“It must be the potion!” She giggled more now, her giggles now turning into laughs. Her laughs turning into loud chuckles.

“Genevieve, this isn’t funny! I’m seriously burning up here!” He turned his head to her, his face completely drenched. Was she really finding this that funny?

Genevieve was also wondering the same thing. Sebastian did a lot of stupid things in their time together, things that she’d gleefully taunt him about, seeing her boyfriend getting this flustered and flushed surely wasn’t the funniest thing she’d ever encountered.

“I—I know!” Genevieve laughed louder, holding her sides “…I-I can’t stop…” She brought a hand to her mouth, desperately trying to hold back her laughter.

Sebastian looked at her, realising that this was another possible reaction from Garreth’s damned potion. He scrambled quickly back to the potion station, his sweaty hands grabbing the parchment that came with the kit. He read out loud again.

“…The bottled warmth of Christmas Cheer…that moonmind!” Sebastian groaned. The heat clearly giving him a shorter temper now, “Warmth and cheer? He’s so bloody literal. Is there no space for nuance anymore?!” He threw the parchment down.

“Gen, I can’t do this. I need to take off more layers.” He pleaded. In that instant, Sebastian dropped his trousers, standing foolishly in the middle of the room with them around his ankles, his briefs still on, and shirt completely drenched through.

Any other time, this would have been a visual delight for Genevieve. But today, Genevieve briefly broke from her fit of laughter to see Sebastian pathetically standing in front of her, sweating head to toe, like a lost farm animal.

This only drove Genevieve into a whole new fit of laughter, tears streaming down her face. Her face contorted into a sob. She could barely catch her breath as the sight of Sebastian sent her howling in a manner she didn’t think was even possible.

“S-S-Sebastian…go—go away! It’s too f-f-funny—you—you look so st-stupi—“ Genevieve could barely finish her sentence before she lost herself completely in laughter. Doubling over, she rocked back and forth as she tried to control herself.

Sebastian paid little attention to how Genevieve was, in his mind, he was worse off. So what if she had a fit of the giggles?! He was warm.

His mind delirious, he didn’t even think to discard his trousers around his ankles, as he waddled around the room now, desperately putting out the fireplace with one Glacius after another.

The fire was out, yet he continued to sweat. It seemed like the heat was coming from himself.

Sebastian looked down at his body. He unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off his soaked skin. He was bare, apart from his briefs that he kept on as his last shred of modesty.

“I-I’m making it hot.” He said in a shaky voice.

“YEAH YOU ARE!” Genevieve called out from the other side of the room, akin to a wolf whistle.

“NOT NOW, GENEVIEVE.” He yelled.

This only sent her off yet again, the continuous sounds of her laughter was now something Sebastian was starting to block out as he urgently tried to solve his predicament.

He looked down at his wand in his hand. Before pointing it to his other hand.

“Glacius”

A burst of ice shot out, encasing his other hand entirely. He felt his first moment of relief, as the ice cooled part of him down. He exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Gen—the ice! It works!” He turned around to face her, wand in one hand and and blocked up hand of ice in the other. He beamed stupidly at her.

Unfortunately for Genevieve, the sight only made him look even more ridiculous. As if it were even possible. She now saw a sight of what was usually her cool, calm and collected boyfriend, now half naked, trousers round his ankles, drenched from head to toe, and now sporting a ridiculous ice block for a hand. And of course, this only sent her into unbearable fits of laughter again. Now becoming painful.

She groaned now with pain, as her laughter hiccuped throughout her entire body.

“It—it hurts! Seb—make it stop!” Genevieve’s face contorted with both pain and new bouts of laughter.

Sebastian’s ice block hand started to drip, as the heat of his body still fought against the ice. He now turned his attention to Genevieve, who was writhing on the floor. He was completely baffled by the entire situation.

“Uhm…uhm….think of something sad!” He looked down at her, droplets falling from his ice hand.

Genevieve hardly responded to him as she rolled around, clutching her sides.

Sebastian’s ice block slipped off his hand at this point. Having decided it was now too warm, it fell with a thud onto the floor, sliding across the room towards the entrance, before abruptly coming to a stop as it hit something.

Someone.

“What—what in the WORLD is going on here?!”

The telltale voice of a very angry Ominis was heard. Genevieve and Sebastian, in the midst of the chaos, hardly noticed him entering the room.

“I’ve been waiting for you two in the common room for hours. Decided to seek you both out myself, only to hear what I can only describe as absolute bedlam coming from this wall.” His brows furrowed, unsure what on earth caused all this, only that the shrill laughter of a woman’s voice and the relentless sounds of spell casting was what compelled him to investigate.

Sebastian wiped more sweat off his forehead, although at this point, he was pretty much smearing it around his face.

“Ominis— I’m sorry. Garreth’s stupid potion—“

“Garreth’s potion? Say less. You should have known better Sebastian…”

Ominis turned his head towards the sound of Genevieve’s cackling.

“…and Genevieve.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll write to Garreth. You two sort yourselves out. And for Merlin’s sake Sebastian, pull your trousers up, I can hear the buckles dragging.”

“We didn’t—“ Sebastian interjected.

“I really don’t want to know.” Ominis waved a hand as he walked out.

“Merry Christmas to you both. Ridiculous.” He scoffed, finally exiting the room, leaving Sebastian and Genevieve waiting for word from Garreth.

Genevieve stifled another laugh again.

“Don’t you start again.” Sebastian snapped.

“S-sorry. Love you.” She giggled.

His face softened, finally starting to see the funnier side of this, letting out a soft chuckle.

“I love you too.” He replied, giving her a kiss on her forehead, that mildly trembled with her suppressed laughter, as he sheepishly crouched down to pick up his trousers again.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fandom #fanfiction #my post #garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #fluff #crack fics #sebastian x mc #my fic

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