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ghostbeam · 2 years

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biting down | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

He’s fast as he weaves through the trees, breath hot against your neck as he runs as if he has any need for breathing at all. You feel your shoulders drop in relief, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, the texture of his skin a comfort to you as you think about what could have happened if he hadn’t found you.

Dabi is a vampire, a real, live (debatable), blood-sucking, sunlight-repulsed, creature of the night.

You think you might be in love with him.

Notes: hiiii so this is my vamp Dabi fic I’ve finally finished!! Enjoy this mess of blood and gore and cheesy corny vampire romance. A big thanks to bun and mari for talking me through this entire thing and giving me the idea for a vamp fic in the first place!! Thanks for reading!! (Title is from biting down by lorde) the playlist for the fic is here if u wanna listen!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, some angst, violence, vampires, Dabi picks reader up, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (lots and lots of blood), blood kink, self inflicted harm (reader cuts her palm open), Dabi is a little mean sometimes, biting (he bites ur neck, thighs, chest he drinks ur blood he’s a vampire), pain play (biting to puncture skin, biting and drinking from already open wounds), drinking each other’s blood, fingering, (bloody) oral f!receiving, bloody sex, unprotected sex, marking, bruising, corny vamp dialogue, if u don’t like blood PLEASE do not read this

Words: 5.3k

Blood drips from your palm as you hold it high in the air. The liquid pools in the open wound, streaks of red falling down your arm.

“Alright!” You call out to the darkness, “I don’t know how else to find you! I don’t even know if this will work, but I have to try!”

You know it’s foolish, especially now that you know that they exist. Years of research, years of books and films and legends and rumors, everything you’d spent your life chasing was real and just out of reach. You don’t know how to let it go. You don’t know how to let him go.

You can’t see much of it in the darkness, but you can feel the blood as it slides down, wet and warm. It dries tacky in the wind and you wonder what it might taste like, if it’s as sweet as it seems to be, as sweet as he makes it sound. Before you can think about touching your tongue to the red, you’re scooped up into arms that aren’t unfamiliar to you.

Dabi is a vampire, a real, live (debatable), blood-sucking, sunlight-repulsed, creature of the night.

You think you might be in love with him.

The two of you are at your place within no time. He drops you from his arms, your feet hitting the ground as he walks through your front door. He doesn’t speak as he makes his way to your bathroom, and you follow him close behind, blood dripping from your wound onto the floor. He picks you up and places you on the counter, and you can see your blood on his neck and the collar of his shirt from where you held onto him.

He flips open the lid of the first aid kit beside you and fixes you with a harsh glare.

“Are you mad?” You question, even though you know the answer.

“Are you an idiot?” He spits as he runs your hand under warm water, “I’m seriously asking. Why would you do this?”

“I didn’t know how else to find you!” You argue, throwing your free hand into the air.

“Maybe I didn’t want to be found.” He replies, cleaning your palm with alcohol.

“Then don’t tell a vampire-obsessed freak that vampires exist.” he presses into your palm with the cloth and you flinch. You pull your hand from his grasp and stare at the blood that remains on your fingers and wrist. Looking up at him, you hold it out to him, “Want some?”

“Very funny.” He says impassively, but you can see how he clenches his jaw at the thought of tasting you. He moves your hand away before wrapping it tightly in gauze. You sit and watch him as he places your supplies back into the first aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, though you figure that’s more about your blood than anything. He places it back underneath the sink and stands up, but not before taking your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, and your breath hitches in your throat as he slides his tongue over the drying blood there. He sucks two of your fingers into his mouth, lapping up all that he can while holding your stare. He pulls them from his lips with a wet pop, swallowing harshly. The two of you are silent for a moment, your hand still clutched in his as you hold your breath. You’re sure he can hear your heart beat rapidly in your chest, but you’re unsure of how to calm down, not when he’s so close, not when he’s looking at you like this. You think he might do something, bite you, kiss you, maybe both, but he drops your hand to your lap and pulls away.

“Clean up.” He tells you, leaving you behind in the bathroom as you stare down at your shaking hand.

You find him in your bedroom, pulling your comforter halfway down your bed. He looks up at where you stand in the doorway, arms crossed over your stomach as you meet his gaze. He raises an eyebrow at you and nods his head towards your bed, a silent demand for you to get in.

You take a step forward, standing by the side of your bed and beginning to move before pausing your actions. You look up at him through your lashes and ask, “will you stay?”

“Get in.” He doesn’t hesitate to command, and you let out a long sigh before sliding into your bed. He pulls the covers up to your chin and begins to turn away, but you take his wrist in your hand before he can leave.

“Dabi.” You plead. He pauses with his back turned to you. His wrist is cold between your fingers and you can’t see the expression on his face. You watch his shoulders tense and then relax as he pulls himself from your grip. Defeated, you fall back into your bed with a sigh, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay.” He finally speaks. He turns to you, climbing into bed next to you. He lies over your comforter and motions for you to give him room. You relax into your bed, a soft smile on your face as you look up at him. He rolls his eyes and speaks again, “Okay, only to make sure you don’t run off again, you little maniac.”

He flicks your forehead and turns off the lamp beside your bed. You turn to lay on your side, and Dabi watches as you fall asleep. He doesn’t touch you, no matter how much he wants to, his fingers twitching with want. You’re warm beside him and he watches the way your body moves with each breath you take, all too aware of how alive you are and how dead he is.

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed and a Dabi’s number scrawled in red glitter gel pen on a note that reads: Text me next time. No need for a blood sacrifice.

…

Dabi knows he shouldn’t get involved with you. He knows that humans and vampires are a deadly mixture, whatever is between you cannot end well no matter how he tries to look at it, no matter how much he’s tried to justify it in his mind.

You’re doomed.

He knows this. He knows that he’s a monster, that he’s been one for years, that he will always be one. He knows that you are flesh and bone with a beating heart, that you have an entire life ahead of you, that you’d be better off without him. He’s certain of it.

And Dabi knows that he should not be picking you up from one of your night classes in an effort to spend more time with you.

You spot him across the parking lot, his ivory hair standing out against the darkness. He leans against his car, sunglasses perched on his nose despite the lack of sun. He grins when he sees you, opening the door and helping you inside. His cold hand rests against your thigh for the entirety of the ride as you tell him about your classes. The mundane events of your human life are endlessly interesting to him, even with all his years of experience.

Dabi lives on a secluded property up at the peak of some mountain you can’t remember the name of. It’s a house far too large for one man to be living in. It’s a crowded place full of books that line shelves and spill out onto the hardwood floors, hanging plants and dead flowers, exposed brick littered with band posters from the ’70s, large panels of glass windows that look out into the expanse of trees below the mountain, the same forest that you live directly on the other side of.

His heavy boots creak against the worn floors, moving to flip the switch and pull the chords of lamps from various thrift stores and antique shops, filling the place with a dull light to make up for the lack of working bulbs in any of the overhead lighting.

The kitchen, however, is the one place with a working light, one you forced Dabi to let you put in yourself as he held the ladder for you and snuck peaks up your skirt. You can hear Dabi sorting through records in the next room as you start on making a cup of coffee for yourself, opening the fridge to grab the coffee beans that sit next to the blood bags, the only other thing that occupies the fridge.

This has become routine for the two of you. Dabi feels guilty about ruining your sleep schedule, letting you drink cup after cup in order to stay up with him, but he’s too selfish to tell you anything.

You feel rough hands grip your hips from behind as you pour the hot liquid into a handmade ceramic mug you’ve decided is your favorite, and Dabi rests his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you. You relax into his hold, leaning your head against his chest.

There’s a vase at the edge of the counter, something also handmade and a little lumpy with painted pink roses around the bottom. You’ve never seen it before, which isn’t such a rare occurrence in the crowded home, but there’s something about it that intrigues you, curious enough to ask Dabi where it came from.

“That’s, uh, an old vase my sister made. I found it in the basement in some old box.” He speaks next to your ear. You pull yourself from his hold and he follows behind you like a magnet, one hand on your hip as you move to pick the vase up.

“It’s pretty.” You tell him, examining it in your hands, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

He stiffens behind you as he always does when you find yourself asking too many questions about him. “Yeah, I have a couple of brothers too.”

“Really?” You question, turning around to look at him, thrilled at his sudden openness, “What are they like?”

His hand drops from your hip and moves to scratch the back of his neck. With his eyes no longer on you and darting from the ceiling to the vase to wherever else he can place them in order not to face you, you can tell he’s uncomfortable with the topic. It’s the way he always behaves when you peel a layer too far back.

“They’re, well–look–” He cuts himself off, finally finding your eyes again, “I can’t–”

“You don’t want to tell me.” You speak and he doesn’t say anything. “You shut down every time I try to learn anything about you, and it fucking hurts.”

“That’s not true–”

“It is!” You exclaim, “It is, and you know it. You know everything about me. I don’t know about you, about your past, your friends. Don’t you think it’s weird that this is the first time you’ve mentioned your siblings?”

Dabi watches you as you speak but doesn’t say a word. He can’t. You’re right about all of it. He can’t tell you about his past, about what he’s done. He can’t risk losing you. He can’t risk letting you in.

“I want you. All of you.” You tell him. You wait, for what, you aren’t sure. Some kind of reaction, something that tells you that the past couple of months spent with him haven’t all been so that he can let you walk away. “I just wish you would have told me you don’t feel the same instead of letting me fall for you.”

He wants to tell you that he does feel the same. He probably feels more than you do. Dabi wants nothing more than to close the growing gap between you, to sink his teeth into taught flesh and make you his forever.

But he can’t do that to you, and he never will.

That’s why he tries to let you go, tries to watch you walk out the door without worrying about how late it is, how dark it is outside, how he’s already had to save you before.

And Dabi cannot live the rest of eternity knowing that he let you get yourself bitten by someone who isn’t him, that you could belong to someone else, dead or alive.

So he runs, despite himself. He runs, realizing just how long he stood in his kitchen and contemplated your death, afraid he might be too late. You might already be lost.

He’s relieved when he spots your figure, illuminated by nothing but moonlight and shivering in the cold. He startles you when he reaches you, enough that you trip over your feet and into the street in surprise, much to Dabi’s dismay.

His grip is tight on your arm as he jerks you up, his face inches away from yours as he speaks, “What a fucking mess, falling over in the street. The hell do you think you’re doing? Huh?”

He’s trying to be quiet even though there’s most likely no one for miles, no one human anyway. Your eyes flicker between his hand on your arm and his angry gaze.

“Dabi, you’re scaring me.” Your voice is calm as you say it, like you're trying to calm an animal down, like if you’re too loud, he’ll rush forward and bite you like he’s always wanted. Like you’ve always wanted.

“I’m scaring you? You’re lucky it was me who snuck up on you and not some blood-thirsty monster.” He bristles. He knows you’re scared. He can hear your heart beating out of your chest, a reminder that he no longer has one that works.

“You are a blood-thirsty monster.” You spit. He doesn’t let it get to him because he knows why you said it. You know about all the nights he’s watched your chest rise and fall, why he presses his ear to your back when he holds you in bed, why his fingers brush over your neck and your wrists. He’s obsessed with your mortality. He envies you.

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out for you.” He retorts, finally letting go of your arm with a small nudge. He turns away from you, running a hand through his hair before fixing his stare on you once more, suddenly very serious. “You can’t just run off in the middle of the night.”

“Why the hell do you even care? You let me leave! You’re the one who watched me run off in the middle of the night!” His shoulders tense as he looks at you, everything he’s held in, all the things he wouldn’t allow himself to say to you, to do to you. It’s all been for nothing. He can’t let you slip away, no matter how much better off he knows you’d be without him. His hands come up to rest on your shoulders, fingers digging into your flesh, and his eyes never leave yours.

“Are you an idiot? Of course, I care. And I do want you! You remind me of everything I can’t have and everything that was taken from me, but you’re worth it.” His hands shake where they lie on your shoulders, speaking like it pains him to keep it in because it does. He can’t get the words out fast enough. “I’m in love with you, and it hurts. But it hurts more not to have you.”

You stare at him, unsure of if you believe him. You want to believe him, part of you does, but you don’t think you can stand loving a man you barely know. He can see it, the doubt in your eyes, how badly you want to turn away and run, but he’s desperate.

Dabi falls to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp from your lips that he ignores. He looks up with you, eyes pleading as he speaks, “I’ll beg. I will. I’ve never begged for anything before, and I’ve lived a lot, so you know I’m serious.”

Unsure how to react, you laugh nervously. If he’s not lying, if he really hasn’t begged for anything before, then you’ve brought a monster to his knees, and it makes you feel powerful. It makes you believe he loves you.

“I am. I love you. I want you. Please come home.” Because that’s what it is. Your home. With how much time you spend there, how much of his things have become yours, how much light up the place in more ways than one. It is your home. He begs for you with his hands attached to your thighs and his eyes wide with desperation. You set a hand on the top of his head and roll your eyes.

Pulling him up to stand, you let your arms fall around his neck, pulling him close enough so that your noses touch. He kisses you and it doesn’t taste like blood. It just tastes like you, you and the fruit you ate for breakfast, the cigarette you snuck before class. You taste like everything he wants and everything he’s not allowed to have. You taste like living.

You pull away from him and whisper, “I love you too, Dabi.”

He pecks your lips once more, “It’s Touya.”

“What?”

“My name.” He tells you. “My real name.”

“Touya.” You say, trying it out. He likes the way your lips move around the word. “I love you, Touya.”

…

Touya kisses you like you might slip away. His lips move against yours hungrily. His hands grip your hips, your thighs, touching you everywhere as if he’s unable to leave a part of you not felt or marked by him. He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you like this instead of the way he desperately wishes to.

Your hands move underneath his white tee shirt, your warm hands against the cold skin of his stomach. He shivers beneath you and you’re flat on your back in an instant, no longer resting on his couch in his lap, but against the floor, his hips pinning your own to the hardness beneath you. He moves from your lips to your neck, nipping and sucking, and returning to your lips to swallow your moans.

He groans when your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands the way you know drives him crazy. He groans into your neck, bucking his hips into yours. You gasp, throwing your head back against the floor, baring your neck to the man above you whose lips hover over your pulse point.

Blood pumps underneath your skin, loud in his ears, and your heart beats in your chest. The feeling, the thrum of the beat, the rush of blood. He can feel it like it’s his, like he lives inside of you.

He could rip your neck open in seconds and drink from you for days before you were drained. He could kill you. You could cease to exist and be nothing but another body he has to bury.

Or he could make you like him.

“You can.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you’re unsure if he even hears you, “If you want. You can bite me.”

You’ve imagined it a hundred times before, what it would be like. You’ve wondered how badly it would hurt, how much you could endure, if it would be worth it. You think it would be. For him, it would be.

He pauses above you.

You’re giving him permission. You’re telling him he’s allowed, that you want him to. There’s a look in your eyes that almost tells him you need him to.

A wave of disgust washes over him, furious with himself that he would ever consider turning you into this, into someone who can barely control themselves around the person they claim to love, the person they need to protect.

He’s off of you and across the room in record time, so fast you still have your neck exposed when you hear his voice from where he stands.

“Don’t.” It’s the last thing he says before leaving you alone in the house.

…

You don’t move from the couch, not once in the hours that you’re alone. Evening turns into night turns into morning. The faintest blue tint paints the room as morning creeps in. You realize, then, that Touya has to come home soon. The sun is rising.

The door creaks open like he’s trying to be quiet. He shuts it behind him slowly, afraid to wake you if you’ve fallen asleep, but when he turns around, you’re there on the couch.

Tired eyes find his across the room and guilt eats at him knowing you’ve been up since he left. He doesn’t say a word but moves to sit down on the couch beside you.

“I love you.” You speak after a moment, but you don’t look at him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. And you love me too.”

“But I shouldn’t.”

“But you do.”

“I do. And that’s why I won’t bite you. I’ll never hurt you.” He can’t. No matter how badly he wants to keep you forever, he can’t turn you into what he is.

“You’re hurting me now.”

“Why don’t you get it?” He snaps, standing up from the couch. “This is a curse. I’m a fucking monster, and I’m going to be one forever. I won’t do that to you. I can’t. I won’t curse you, too.”

“It’s not a curse to love you.” He looks at you then, your gaze still locked straight in front of you like you’re afraid of his reaction. You look down at your lap, playing with your fingers before you finally find the courage to look up at him.

He thinks for a long moment. There are so many reasons he shouldn’t, the same reasons he tried and failed to stay away from you. But there’s one question, something that’s plagued him for all of his years as a vampire, something he’s too afraid to ask.

Can Touya really be loved forever?

He thinks the answer doesn’t matter. It’s enough to be loved by you.

He bites you.

It’s nothing like you’d imagined. It’s better. It’s heaven.

His teeth sink into your flesh and your blood fills his mouth, fangs sharp against your throat. He’s not fast enough as he drinks, trying to savor you. It spills out of the sides and down your neck. He’s never tasted anything like you before.

It stings but you moan, letting your head fall back to give him more room to drink. It takes everything in him to force his lips away from your neck. He could have drained you. Maybe he would have if he didn’t love you, but he does, so he pulls away. Half-lidded eyes look into his, a faint smile crossing your face as you bring your hand to his cheek. You swipe your thumb through the blood on his bottom lip and grin. You’ve stained his lips.

Touya wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He brings a hand to the back of your head and guides you to his neck. You place a kiss against his skin before you bite down, drawing blood in the same way he did. He lets out a strangled moan and grips your hair in his hand. The taste of copper fills your mouth and you force yourself to drink. This is all you’ve ever wanted.

He pulls you away from his neck and kisses you, the mixture of his blood and your blood a mess on your tongues. He pulls away and licks over the wound on your neck. It’s tender to the touch. You whimper as his tongue swipes over it again and again. You arch your back, holding back a moan as he sinks his teeth back into the open wound.

His hands are rough as he grips your hips, no doubt leaving bruises behind, as he pulls you over his lap, never detaching from your neck as he does. You run your hands up his stomach, reaching his neck and pressing your fingers into his wound. He groans into you, pushing your hips down to grind down against him.

He releases his teeth from your neck and captures your lips with his. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, tasting the blood that remains as he thumbs the bottom of your shirt. He pulls away only to pull it over your head. His lips find the wound on your neck once more.

“I’ve never tasted anything like you before.” He speaks against your neck, licking a long strip up your neck, “You’re addicting.”

You pull him away from your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you pull, earning a groan from the man below you. You grind your hips down as you suck on the wound on his neck, curious if he feels the same things you do. The blood is sweeter on your tongue than you remember running your tongue over the wound and down his neck to taste the blood that’s dried against his chest.

“C’mere.” He whispers, kissing you again. He flips you over gently, pushing you against the couch as he hovers over you, “C’mere, baby.”

He kisses from your neck to your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach. He nips at your skin, leaving behind pricks of blood and pulling whimpers from your throat. It’s soft, even as he’s hurting you, even as he pierces your skin. He’s so gentle.

His fingers find the band of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear in one go. He moves his body in between your legs, bloodied hands running up the outside of your thighs as he lowers himself to your sex. He doesn’t look away from you as bites the inside of your thighs, sucking bruises into the flesh and licking the blood from where he punctures the skin.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath, “Please.”

“Fuck.” Touya curses at the sound of desperation in your voice. He draws soothing circles in your inner thighs, smearing the blood around, as he looks up at you, “That’s it, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“W-want–” You speak breathily, “want your tongue.”

“Yeah? Want me to taste you?” He asks, bringing two fingers to your clit, moving them in a slow circle. It’s agonizing. You try to move your hips, but Touya holds you down with one arm thrown over your lower stomach. “Patient, baby. I want you to feel good.”

He buries his head between your thighs, swiping his tongue along your entrance. The feeling of his tongue on your clit has you throwing your head back and arching your back, finally giving you some kind of release. A strangled whine escapes your throat, and it only makes Touya work harder.

You’re a mess of slick and blood, pure heaven on his tongue. He brings two fingers to your entrance, pushing in slowly as he sucks on your clit. He moves them in and out of you, running his tongue agonizingly slow over your swollen bud.

“Touya!” You moan, trying to move your hips and failing from the grip he has on you. “I’m close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Wanna come for me?” He teases, moving his fingers in and out of you in slow strokes, barely reaching your sweet spot. He pulls his fingers from you and swipes his tongue along your cunt, licking up your juices like he can’t get enough.

“Gonna cum! Gonna cum, Touya!” You cry, pulling at the inky strands of his hair, now slightly wet with blood from your fingers. “Make me cum!”

His fingers slip back inside of you, moving his mount over you and sucking your clit between his lips. He moves his mouth back and forth, moving his lips and tongue against you as he curls his fingers inside of you. You cum with a loud cry of his name, finally grinding your hips against his face now that he’s no longer holding you down. Touya moans against your cunt, feeling how you twitch at his tongue still moving against you.

When he pulls away, he licks at the blood from the small punctures in your thighs, creating more as he rises from between them. He stands quickly, slipping out of his now stained white tee shirt and dark jeans before hovering over you again.

“How do you feel?” He asks you, kissing down your neck, drinking from you like he’s always wanted.

“Not cursed.” You reply, moving your hips against his as he sucks on your neck. You want more of him, more blood, more flesh. It’s your turn.

When he pulls away, you pull him down by the back of his neck, sinking your newly sharp teeth into the other side of his neck, the one without the wound you gave him before. He sinks into you as you bite, crying out your name as he begins to move his hips. You drink from him and it’s brand new.

He kisses you when you release his neck, his hips moving rapidly against yours. He groans into your mouth, the blood moving between your lips, over your tongues, spilling from your mouths and down your necks. You’re both a complete mess of blood and sweat and spit.

Touya’s hands move from your hips up the length of your body. He fucks into you slowly, moving his hands up to lace his fingers with yours, bringing your arms up above your head. He leans down, sucking more marks into your neck and down your chest. You cry out and grind your hips against his, chasing your release as pain bubbles over your skin in the places he’s marked.

“Please.” You beg as he fucks you deep and slow, “M-more. Want to feel you.”

“Can’t you feel me, angel?” He questions, placing a hand against your lower stomach. He doesn’t speed his movements up at all, forcing you to endure the slow thrusts against your insides.

“You’re teasing.” You breathe, wriggling in his hold, but he keeps your arms pinned above you. “Playing with your food.”

“I’m savoring you.” He chuckles, leaning down to lick your neck.

“I need you to fuck me.” You plead, trying to grind your hips again. Touya grins above you, kissing you deeply before speeding up his thrusts. You gasp against his lips, and he licks into your mouth, tasting his blood on your tongue.

His hips slam into yours, squeezing your hands as he looks into your eyes. You’re beautiful. You’re a monster now, and you’re beautiful. You’re his.

He continues to move in and out of you, his length twitching inside of you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He continues to drill into you, leaning forward to drink from you once more before he cums. You cry out at the feeling of his teeth in your neck, addicted to the feeling of being eaten, consumed.

“Kiss me.” You pant, feeling the coil tighten within you. “Please, Touya, kiss me.”

He pulls away, blood spilling from his lips as he kisses you. He forces you to drink with his lips against yours. The two of you cum together as you share your blood. His hips begin to slow, riding out both of your orgasms as you swirl your tongue against his. He pulls away, letting go of one of your hands to push your hair from your face.

“You’re mine.” He speaks, rough and possessive. “Forever.”

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #bnha x reader #bnha smut #Dabi smut #ghost.writes #ghost.fic

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Text

shameless summer series (s2 era) - based on this prompt posted by @ianandmickeygallavich & @shameless-notashamed ☀️📽️🍿

Mandy doesn’t know why the fuck Mickey is tagging along to her movie date with Ian. He says it’s because the cinema is air-conditioned. She doesn’t believe him, why would he sit through a romantic comedy just to keep cool? And she also doesn’t get why Ian sits in the middle of them.

words: 1.2k

"Ian, come on we're gonna be late!" Mandy yelled from the bottom of the steps outside the Gallagher's house.

"Jesus Christ, Mands, did you want the fuckin' Twizzlers or not?" Ian passed the threshold to the outside and smacked her shoulder with the candy before she smuggled them out of his grip.

"Thank you, boyfriend," she kissed his cheek as he scrunched up his nose at the affection -- especially in front of her brother, who looked onto their loving display amused before returning his gaze back down at the ground.

Mandy kicked Mickey in the shin.

"Ow- fuck! What?!"

"Be fuckin' nice, dickwad," she threateningly whispered.

If Ian was looking closely, he might have seen the tips of Mickey's ears blush red as he muttered a "'sup, Gallagher."

"Hey Mick," Ian smiled at him, unable to help himself.

"'m sorry my idiot brother decided to crash our date." Mandy apologized, emphasizing the last word and glaring at an unbothered Mickey. She led her boys down the side walk en route to the movie theater for the two o'clock showing they had been planning to see.

"Oh, did he now?" Ian teased, threatening to cross into Mickey's part of the sidewalk, but Mickey held his ground and dodged Ian's attempts to bump into him.

"It's hot as balls out and you know damn well Dad hasn't paid the AC in ages." Mickey pulled a piece of Mandy's hair from behind her.

"Bitch! Coulda went to wherever the fuck it is you normally terrorize," she swooped her hair to the front of her shoulders, out of Mickey-the-menace's reach.

"No AC."

"Whatever."

Ian caught the side door to the theater as a group of kids were exiting a movie. The three teenagers snuck in successfully.

"'ey Ian, ya want some popcorn? I was gonna get some."

"Uh, yeah, sure -- thanks Mickey," Ian grinned as Mickey turned away without another word.

"Shit! We're gonna miss the previews -- let's go!"

"What about Mickey?" Ian wondered.

"Uh, we'll save a seat? Duh? Do you have worm for brains?"

"Shut up," Ian shoved her and she giggled.

Mandy cuddled into Ian's side as they took some empty seats in the back of the theater. She loved spending time with her best friend, but why did her brother always have to cock block? Okay -- not that she was gonna get some, anyways, because Ian's fucking gay or whatever, but it's still the sentiment!

As the final previews ended, Mandy believed that Mickey would truly be a no show. She had no idea why he tagged along to see Perks of Being a Wallflower with them in the first place when she was pretty sure some movies with like fucking superheroes or battleships or some shit were on next door. He hasn't been soft enough to watch a romance movie in years -- especially in front of another guy. It just didn't add up.

She sighed as Mickey finally waltzed into the theater, two bags of popcorn in hand. Mandy picked up her purse from the seat next to her for Mickey to sit down, but he kept walking and plopped down on the other side of Ian. The fuck?

"Mick, I saved you a seat here," she whispered.

Mickey shook the bags of buttery puffs between himself and Ian, "Popcorn." He turned back towards the screen as if that justified everything. Whatever. Ian was still hers at least.

Ian moved his hand from Mandy's arm so he could eat his popcorn.

Motherfucker.

She gnawed on her Twizzlers.

Ian had a hard time focusing on the movie at first. Mickey was manspreading and his left thigh was pushing into Ian's -- hand-me-down athletic shorts touching worn denim.

Ian glanced over at Mickey just in time to see him tilt his head back, exposing his throat, and dump the contents of the popcorn bag into his mouth, spilling a few pieces.

Mickey gave him a side eye and cocked an eyebrow up, "See something ya like?"

"You're a messy eater."

"Says the guy with half his food on his chest." Ian looked down. Oh.

Before he could bring his hand up to brush it off, Mickey plucked off a piece of popcorn and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly while keeping eye contact with Ian. Motherfucker.

Ian was not about to be sporting a semi with fucking Emma Watson on screen and Mandy two inches to his left. He wasn't.

Mickey grinned and turned his focus back on the movie again.

Of course this movie would have a queer character that Mickey was both repulsed and drawn towards. Some things hit a little too close to home for comfort, okay?

Fuck.

He knew he was frozen and tense. He didn't expect anyone else to notice, but of course, fucking Ian was like an alien motherfucker always tuned into his frequency. He always knew.

Without looking at him, Ian cautiously placed his hand over Mickey's thigh. When Mickey didn't push away - in fact, he leaned into it, - Ian gently stroked his leg with his thumb in what he thought was a loving gesture. An I see you gesture. An it's okay gesture.

Maybe it would be okay.

Mandy started tearing up near the end of the movie, so Ian, in his perfect boyfriend role, wrapped his arm around her shoulders -- her face tucked into his chest. Her eyes were glued to the screen, so she didn't even notice that one of Ian's hands was dropped to the side of the seat and inched so close towards the edge, towards Mickey's seat -- so close, in fact, that the boys had been linking pinky fingers for the better part of the movie. Hidden in the dark of the theater. Their fingers had started sweating like half an hour ago, but neither of them could bring themselves to pull away just yet, savoring their little piece of forever in the grimy cinema. Some shit about we accept the love we think we deserve.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom before we go, you guys gonna be fine by yourselves for a minute?"

"We'll see," Mickey muttered. Mandy frowned.

Ian clasped his hand over Mickey's shoulder, "He means we'll be fine."

Mickey flipped him off until Mandy was out of view and then dipped his head towards one of the theater doors, motioning for Ian to follow. The door didn't lead to another theater, but to a storage closet.

Before the door was even able to close all the way, Mickey frantically reached to pull down Ian's pants. Ian's brain worked slower than his dick as he managed to comprehend their current situation.

"Mick, we have like no time," Ian groaned into it, his feeble attempt to not get so turned on quickly failing.

"Imma make it quick, new personal best."

Ian's chuckle turned into a gasp. Okay, damn, maybe so.

Mickey's head rested on Ian's chest and Ian's head fell atop Mickey's, the scent of his hair gel mixed with him intoxicating his senses.

Motherfucker.

Mandy exited the bathroom, her company no where to be seen. She leaned against the pole, debating calling Ian or waiting another couple minutes. Sure enough, the boys came wandering over a few minutes later.

"Took ya long enough, where'd you run off to?"

"Uh, Ian wanted to look at the movie poster for, uh-"

"Battleship."

"Yeah, Battleship."

"Nerds," Mandy called, walking towards the exit. They were terrible liars. They all knew it. Whatever, they hadn't killed each other, that's all she cared about. She turned around to face the semi-stunned boys, "Coming?"

They headed back home in the sweltering sun, Mandy leading the group as always.

And if the two boys walked a little closer than before as Mandy turned a blind eye, that was nobody's business but theirs.

#shameless #mandy milkovich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian x mandy #mickey x mandy #my posts #shameless s2 #gallavich #shameless fanfiction #shameless fanfic #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fanfiction #shameless summer

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kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Text

The Blood King and his Queen [8]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I've introduced two new characters this chapter! Kazuhiko and Katashi, the first born and second born respectively, brothers of Bakugou. If reader thought Bakugou was intimidating at first glace, best believe that these two are even scarier than him.

Also, I've tried tagging some of you but it seems that I am unable to do that. Please make sure that your Tumblr is visible when typing it in the search bar. I think that's the only way I'm able to tag you :) Please enjoy and see you next Monday!

[previous] [next]

You were woken up by the golden sun rays hitting your resting eyes. Squinting your eyes to open them up a bit, you saw that you forgot to close the tent completely, allowing the sun to fully brighten up the place. You sighed. You didn’t want to get up just yet. Maybe a few more minutes. You tried to move to get a bit of a stretch before going back to sleep, but quickly realized a powerful arm around your waist prevented you from moving. When your eyes looked up, Bakugou’s face was only inches from yours. Even though it was so early in the morning, that didn’t stop a rush of heat from appearing across your cheeks. And despite his face being so close to yours, you didn’t look away.

This was probably the first time you actually took a good look at his features. He looks so peaceful when he’s asleep, despite the fact that his eyebrows were still angry. His mouth was slightly ajar and you could hear him softly breathing. His skin may look rough upon first look, but when you touched his cheek, was much softer than you thought. You wanted to keep admiring his handsome face. It wasn’t everyday that you could stare and not get caught. Taking advantage of this chance, you snuggled right up to him, sighing in satisfaction.

You heard a deep chuckle and suddenly, your body was even more flushed against Bakugou’s body. He had rested his chin on top of yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Good morning,” his deep, husky, morning voice startled you.

“You were awake?” you asked, embarrassed.

“The whole time,” he chuckled.

“Why didn’t you say something?” you whined, lightly hitting his chest, making Bakugou laugh even more.

“I thought it was cute,” he admitted.

“Was not. It was creepy!” you disagreed.

“Everything you do is cute, my princess,” he declared. You looked up at him, shocked.

“What did you say?” you asked. He looks down at you with the softest expression and repeats,

“My princess,” he softly says. Your heart wants to leap out of your chest. The way he’s looking at you, the way he’s claiming you as his, and the fact that his lips was only a breath away was making you fall harder. As if that was even possible at this point.

Bakugou stops smiling and suddenly becomes serious. You see his eyes move from yours, down to your lips. As if on cue, yours do the same. Bakugou’s lips were getting closer to yours as your heart does summersaults across your chest. Right as you were about to share your first kiss, the tent entrance opens wide, the sun rays now emitting more light than what you wanted. Standing there, a dorky, smiling Denki Kaminari.

“Gooood MORNING!” he sings with the widest smile on his face. “Oh…” his smile slowly dissipates when he sees Bakugou’s killer glare and your hiding face. From behind, Sero and Kirishima both grab Denki by the face and drag him away.

“You idiot!” Sero scolded.

“We told you to see if they were awake! NOT barge in on them!” Kirishima continued.

“I’m sorry!” he cried. They continued to argue until their voices faded in the distance. Bakugou grumbled, smacking his forehead in annoyance.

“Fuckin dumbass,” he muttered under his breath. He looks to you apologetically, but you couldn’t help but giggle at his friend’s antics.

“What an interesting group of friends you have,” you stated.

“They’re one of a kind, that’s for sure,” he complained even though he was bidding them a compliment. He happened to look back at you the same time you met his eyes. Without hesitation, he leans again but you were quick to turn your head and clear your throat.

“We should uh- probably get ready,” you suggested.

“Right,” he whispers and you quickly get up, exiting the tent to leave the prince behind.

After a quick breakfast that Sero had whipped up for everyone, it was time to head back on the road. But this time, you were enroute back to the palace. The ride back to the palace was more relaxing than before. You were fully calm and comfortable in Bakugou’s arms, despite last night and this morning’s events.

Thinking back to when this trip first started, you were so uptight and tense sharing a horse with the mighty Blood Prince. You couldn’t even breath properly with him being so close to you. Now, you were fully able to relax into Bakugou’s arms. You allowed your back to touch his chest, since you were no longer afraid of the Blood Prince. Bakugou had leaned forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. You two were too digested into your own conversation to see the fond looks his crew was giving them.

He was pointing to different landmarks and areas, able to give you stories about anything and everything. Some were sad, some were adventurous, some were silly, some were dangerous. You were able to laugh with him and his men, not believing that this was the man that everyone feared.

Halfway on the trip, you started getting sleepy, yawning your butt off every few minutes. Bakugou took notice, leaning closer to you.

“Sleepy?” he asks. You only nodded your head, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “You can take a nap.” He offered.

“Is that really alright?” you made sure. He nodded in approval. So you didn’t hesitate to turn your body to the side, snuggling into his body. The moment your head rested against his chest, you were out like a light. Bakugou softly smiled at the sight. Mina and Sero silently fangirled to the side, but thanks to Bakugou’s sharp hearing, he heard them. He glared in their direction causing both of the soldiers to turn their heads and whistle like it was no one’s business. Bakugou then pointed to everyone else, making sure they weren’t loud enough to wake you up. His finger stopped at the electric blonde, extra cautious of his loud ass. Denki locked his lips and threw the key away. Far away. He wasn’t ready to get beat up again.

You fell asleep most of the way back, but his highness didn’t mind. When you awoke, you found yourself back in the palace estate. You stretched your arms out with a big yawn.

“You looked like you got a good rest,” Bakugou joked.

“I did,” you said as a matter of fact, smiling up at him.

The horses pulled up to the front of the palace and other soldiers and maids alike were helping to unpack your belongings. Bakugou had helped you down from your horse and took your hand to head inside. You offered to help bring something in, but Bakugou insisted that you go see someone.

When the doors opened, you were greeted by two masculine figures whose auras emitted such a strong presence, dare you even say malevolent. Kazuhiko and Katashi, the older brothers of the Blood Prince, were there in the flesh. They were much older looking than Bakugou, with even more scars on their bodies. Their build was impressive but the enraged and annoyed expression was prevalent on their faces. Honestly, Bakugou couldn’t compete when it came to how scary and afraid you were on these men.

“Little brother,” Katashi, the second born, greeted mockingly. But that didn’t faze Bakugou one it.

“Where’s father?” Bakugou ignored them. Your eyes widened. Father? As in, the King? Bakugou wanted to take you to meet the King?

“Where he always is. Any reason why you’re asking?” Katashi interrogated.

“I have matters to discuss with him,” Bakugou simply told them. Kazuhiko, the first born, leaned to the side and raised his eyebrows when he saw your cowering body behind Bakugou.

“Ah, what do we have here?” Kazuhiko got closer to you and circled around you to get a good look. “I see you brought something for us to snack on.” He licked his lips repulsively. You shrunk behind Bakugou, holding his arm for dear life. Luckily for you, Bakugou moved to make sure that he was in between you and his brother.

“Be careful with what you say. We wouldn’t want to puncture another eye, would we?” Bakugou threatened. Kazuhiko backed up, covering up his right eye that contained a long scar running in the middle, most likely caused by Bakugou.

“I wouldn’t want to be talking to your future queen like that,” Bakugou pointed out. Both brothers looked at you with slanted eyes as if they couldn’t believe someone like you could be queen.

“Forgive us, princess. We misspoke,” Kazuhiko was quick to bow, but his attitude was more forced.

“Tell us, from which kingdom do you come from?” he asks.

“The Northern Kingdom,” you respond, rather nervously. Katashi raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“The Northern Kingdom? I thought the King only bore one daughter,” The second oldest questioned. Your heart started to pound and cold sweat was running down your back. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to do. Were you going to be caught just like this?

“Enough. Tell Father that we are to hold a ball to celebrate our engagement. In a week’s time. No later,” Bakugou spoke up before you could respond. You could let out a big sigh of relief but you’d do that later.

“Go get some rest. I’ll see you later?” Bakugou spoke softly to you. The way he spoke to you compared to his brothers was night and day. You nodded in agreement and Bakugou smiled. His brothers were watching your interaction closely, frowning in dissatisfaction.

“Princess?” Kirishima came from behind you, ushering you to your room. You let Kirishima lead the way, but not before looking back at Bakugou who was talking to his brothers.

“Worried about his highness?” Kirishima asked.

“N-No! I was just…” you tried to make an excuse but failed to come up with one.

“He’ll be fine. There’s a reason Bakugou is in line for the throne and not his brothers,” Kirishima explained. “Despite being the youngest, he is stronger, more powerful, and more ruthless than his brothers. He earned his title as next in line.” Even still, you couldn’t help but worry when you’re not by his side. And Kirishima could see that.

“Now, now. Let’s freshen up for his highness later,” Kirishima took you shoulders and forced you to keep walking, to distract you from the problem.

Bakugou was about to walk away but Kazuhiko stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.

“Oi, you aren’t serious, are you?” Kazuhiko questioned.

“What are you going on about this time?” Bakugou huffed in annoyance.

“You. Have feelings? For that princess?” Katashi doubted like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Bakugou raised a brow.

“Yes! It is! Come on, do you really think it’s going to work out with her? Do you think we love our wives? No! We are using them, just like you’re about to do. Don’t steer away from the prize,” Katashi tried to manipulate Bakugou, but he wasn’t having it. He swatted him away like an annoying fly buzzing around his head.

“Go back to your own kingdoms and take your shitty ideals with you.” Bakugou dismissed them and walked away, now in a bad mood. Katashi was about to run after him, as he has a shorter fuse than the Blood Prince, but Kazuhiko stopped him.

“Don’t. He’ll come around. There’s no escaping it,” Kazuhiko was convinced and watched as the angry Pomeranian retreated back to his quarters.

Back at the Northern Kingdom, the real princess grumbles as she maneuvers around in her maid outfit, trying not to get caught by anyone. After putting you on that mission, she has been stuck serving as a maid all this time. Day after day after day, she was waiting for the moment you come back and announce that this silly arranged marriage was off, but you had yet to show up. And what’s worse, the brother of the Blood Prince is now requesting to see her. So here she was, waiting outside for this prince to show up.

“Nice of you to show up,” the princess complained when Katashi appeared from the shadows. He chuckles upon seeing what the princess was wearing.

“What are you wearing?” he laughs but the princess wasn’t having it.

“Oh, shut it. What is it you want to say?” the princess snapped, wanting to get straight to the point. Katashi clears his throat, suddenly getting serious.

“You don’t happen to have a sister, do you?” he asks. The princess just rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest.

“Of course, I don’t. You’ve known me how long? You would’ve known if I had a sister. You probably would have slept with her by now,” the princess mumbles. She wasn’t wrong there. But now everything clicks in Katashi’s head.

“Ah, so the princess back with the Blood Prince is an imposter?” Katashi asks in a high pitched tone.

“Not really. I asked her to make the prince hate her so that he could call off the wedding and I wouldn’t have to marry him. When that happens, I’ll be back to my gorgeous dress,” the princess told of her masterplan.

“I don’t think you’ll be having that any time soon. You see, this maid you sent on a mission, is living happily with the prince as we speak. And will be celebrating their engagement within this week,” Katashi said. It took a minute to process what he was saying. The more she understood, the more her blood started to boil.

“What?”

“Oh yes. They traveled the kingdom together and supposedly are very in love with each other,” Katashi spit his poison, whispering these tales like a snake wrapped around her neck.

“That explains why she hasn’t come back yet,” the princess hissed.

“Lucky for you, I am willing to take you as my date to their little party,” Katashi gave a devilish smile. He offered his hand to the princess. “Let us crash this party?”

“Let’s.” the princess agreed, taking his hand, their evil plan now in motion.

A/N: DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA! We live for it!

We are almost done with the first half of the story so... enjoy and be happy while it lasts :)

I'd love to know your thoughts and maybe predictions or wants for the story???? ooh that'll be fun! I love reading every one of your comments and DM's and asks. Don't be afraid to send me something! I'M NICE I PROMISE! Love you all!!! <3 If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @daddy-daichis @stardream14 @spicysherlock @cathwritestragediesnotsins @luvtaromilktea @aaannabbanana @i-ameri-cant @shyonigirichan @aomi04

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugou romance #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #bnha art #bakugou drama #bakugou #bnha bakugou

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batarella · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You - Part 9 *EDITED* (Jason Todd x Reader)

one more part until the MID-SERIES FINALE. After Part 10, I’ll be taking a break from this series and post a few SMUTTY ONE SHOTS HEHE THEN I’ll continue the I Don’t Hate You series with Part 11 onwards.

(edited): ALRIGHT SO This started out as one of the chapters I wasn’t too happy with. Other than the massive amount of grammatical errors, I felt like it missed out on the climactic event which was supposed to be their last day at the library. So I added about 2000 words in the first part and fixed (most) of my other mistakes. Now I’m extremely happy with this. To all IDHY fans, I hope you’ll like this (thank you @knightfall05x for proofreading this for me you’re the best)

(the above GIF is the jade west scene I used in this part which I didn’t get to add to the VIDEO EDIT)

WORDS: 6725 WARNINGS: fluffy first date between two idiots

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

At times, when familiarity does come with the idea of comfort, the moment it’s stripped away, it becomes difficult to part with. And it may have been repulsive at the first glance, something you never would have thought you’d grow fond of. But the rustic smell of old books, the dust that stuck to your fingers against the covers, that one wheel of your cart that squeaks a lot, those were things you’ve grown familiar with, grown fond of.

You were certain that at the end of that day, when you step out of the library as its assistant no longer, that you’d miss every single one of those little things. Work wasn’t work any longer. It became a pastime. A wonderful pastime.

But even then, you knew the one thing you’d miss more than anything else was having a reason to see your cute jackass of a co-worker.

The shelves were quite easy to hide behind. When you stood by them, it was as good as hiding by a solid brick wall if no one looked your way. But if you peer enough into the spaces between the book’s spines, you’d be able to spy on the other side without being detected. You took advantage of that. You hid yourself, but peaked into all the spaces you could find without making too much noise. On your toes, you tried your sorry best, swerving to the side when you saw his back and stifling a laugh when you caught his eye before disappearing again.

It was the only reason Ms. Peterson hadn’t noticed. Somehow, Jason was really good at being stealthy.

“Where are you?” you whispered to yourself. You were taking a risk walking into an aisle with your back unguarded. Though you swore you saw him by the poetry section.

A whistle. All the way over to the back. Shit.

You hastily turned around, yet still you couldn’t see him.

Then there was a jab to your side. You jolted up and screamed, immediately leaping to where you felt the winds shift.

Jason ran right past you and went for the shelves once more. He was laughing, and more so was his voice loud enough for Ms. Peterson to notice when you were running behind him, considerably slower, and because of that you lost him once again.

There was movement by the romance novels. Crouching over, you quietly made your way over to the back. Then as you did, you caught sight of where he was really hiding. At the shelf right in front of it where he thought you wouldn’t see him. Smiling to yourself, you went to the other side.

And when you were almost facing his back, you sprinted and tugged on his jacket. “FUCK. You little shi-“

Giggling as you ran, you knew you couldn’t stand a chance. He chased you around the aisles, through the shelves and the tables where Ms. P couldn’t see you. Your laughter was getting much too difficult to hold back. You stood with your defenses up by a shelf, with him guarding your way. Over to the left. Then to the right. His eyes were on you, laughing just as hard, then when you ran for the back, he went straight for you.

But you’d disappeared as you went around the corner.

Toppling a book to the ground, Jason went straight for the noise. But his senses were all over the place. You could barely make a step onto the carpet without it being too noticeable. So you went for the tables. The ones out of Ms. Petersons’ sight.

You could see his feet move from under the table and you felt no less than a small child playing hide and seek. Which basically was what you were playing. Jason was walking around, all around the shelf. You could hear his murmurs and his occasional calling out of your name. He couldn’t have seen you.

Smiling to yourself as he once again went into the sciences section, you stayed under that table for a few minutes, and you felt confident until no longer could you see his feet.

Crawling further down, you placed your head near the ground and looked for any movement. Nothing. He wasn’t where he used to be-

“This is a terrible place to hide-“

You jumped at the voice whispering into your ear. And before you could scream and run away, Jason had already pulled you down on the ground, grabbing you around your shoulders. His touches made you laugh out of your wits. And you tried holding them back just to not make so much noise. “ASSHOLE-“

“CAUGHT YOU!”

He started wrestling you to the ground, and the worse you kept laughing, the more so was it difficult to not smile his face off and laugh along with you. Under the table, on the floor, he almost pinned you to the ground, then the dickhead started gripping you into a headlock and rubbing his knuckles onto the top of your head.

“JAY. JAY. NO.”

“YOU ADMIT YOU'RE A LOSER?”

“STOP IT.” You grabbed his wrists but he was much too strong. His back was on the ground, with you on top, then you were rolling around trying to make him stop giving you the worst knuggies you’ve had in your life.

“JAY, STOP IT. YOU WANT ME TO BITE YOU!?”

“FUCKING TRY-“

“I WILL CALL THE POLICE-“

“RESISTING MAKES IT WORSE!!”

He was laughing so hard and by then your hair was an absolute mess, your clothes all dirtied from rolling around the floor.

“YOU HAVE SHARP KNUCKLES!!!”

“STOP RESISTING!”

You stuck your palm right up against his face, and he snorted, prying his hands away from you, but as you crawled out, Jason grabbed you by the ankle and started wrestling you down again. “JASON!”

Finally, with you panting and your cheeks hurting so much from the smiling you were doing, you managed to lay down right on top of him and pin him down with his arms. And if you didn’t know better, you would have missed how he was purposefully losing against your much weaker grips and the wide grin he had as you did, holding him down.

“I win,” you said.

“You sure did.”

Jason smiled through his teeth. When his eyes were too wide set, his pupils visibly dilated at the sight of you, your face grew hot and you slid off of him.

And just like that, he pinched you in the cheek and ran off into the shelves. Cursing the worst of profanities, you pulled yourself up from under the table so you could go right after him. When you were back to running around, hiding by the shelves, taking turns in chasing each other until the sky grew dimmer.

His laughter certainly was the best thing you’ve ever heard.

Hiding behind a corner with your head sweating like a leaking tub, you saw him slowly walking around, thinking you couldn’t see him. Or maybe he did. And this was his way of trapping you again. But you wanted to run to him now. You’ve been at this for the past hour.

So as you snuck out of the corner, you rushed to his back, grabbed his shirt, and stuck to him like that with Jason trying his best to turn around and catch you. But you gripped onto the fabric for dear life and stuck your chin to his back.

“REAL MATURE!” He screamed.

“OH, ‘CUZ YOU'RE SUCH AN ADULT-“

The asshole, not being able to catch you no matter how much he tried to catch you off guard, reached over to his back and grabbed your arm, but you swerved around.

Then he started backing up, with you having no choice but to go along with him.

“JAY, WHAT ARE YOU-FUCK!”

He’d backed away against the wall and was pushing against you so harshly the shelf was imprinting itself against your back. He was laughing like a madman, and you were screaming into his ear.

“GET OFF!”

“YOU STARTED IT!”

“JAY-“

“SURRENDER NOW!!!”

“NEVER!”

“THEN I GUESS I’LL HAVE TO STAY HERE-“

And you did what he never would have expected, though it didn’t surprise him even a little. You bit his shoulder.

“AGH!”

You pushed him off and ran for your life, but he was merely just a foot away from you. He grabbed your hand, pulled you, then you were by the corner hiding from him and he’d caught you there too. You never laughed so loudly until finally, he’d grabbed you from behind, arms locking you down so you couldn’t even thrash about. He pressed his chest against your back and kept laughing into your ear.

“NO, NOT AGAIN!”

You struggled off him, panting, sweating, and you were so out of breath but so high up in a bliss that you didn’t even want to move away from his arms. When you stopped, stood on your feet, trying your best to catch your breath, Jason spun you around and you tried worming your way out. But his hands were on your hands, holding them tight, letting the warmth go through his palms and onto your skin.

You were still smiling, and so was he, but no longer were they desperate laughs or screams. His smile was sincere, sweet, and more so was it that when you locked eyes and your breaths started to wear down. Jason kept holding your hands and pressed his forehead against yours.

“YOU TWO SLIMEBALLS. QUIT YOUR PLAYING AND DO YOUR JOB!!! YOU AIN’T FREE UNTIL 4:30!”

Like the life was sucked out of him.

Jason groaned and reluctantly loosened his hold around you. You were groaning, too. But your smiles still hadn’t worn off when his hand tightly lingered around yours before eventually pulling away when you walked over to Ms. Peterson’s desk.

The old woman had knife-like glares on you when you and Jason grabbed the cart of books, wheeled it over to the side, and you started pushing your tongue out at her when she wasn’t looking but Jason pulled you away.

Jason pushed on the cart, helped you with the books on the shelf, making you laugh and feel so lighthearted you swore you’ve never felt so much in a high.

“Nice to hear you aren’t complaining,” Jason said.

“It’s our last day. I’ll enjoy it while I can.”

“So you enjoyed it, did you?”

Rolling your eyes, you shelved a book. “You gonna help me or what?”

“Nah,” he placed his arms on the cart handle and put his chin on top, staring at you. “I’m good here.”

And he didn’t stop staring at you. Not even as you tried to ignore it for the sake of the redness in your cheeks, the tension still up in the air. You hadn’t kissed him yet since that night. You’ve done other things, like hold hands and hug and tease each other endlessly and basically spend every free minute there was with each other.

But he hasn’t made another move. It had been this way for quite some time. It was lovely, this point in your relationship. Could you call it a relationship? But you weren’t sure how to move forward. Or where to move forward. He hasn’t even asked you out yet.

“My turn to push,” you said. “And you arrange the books.”

Smiling his teeth off, he offered the cart to you. He shelved the books, glancing back at you knowing you were teasing him by doing the exact same amount of staring as he did. And you made sure you were so noticeable just to rile him up and get him to blush.

When he almost emptied the cart, and when you pushed it to the last shelf-the last shelf-your heart skipped three beats when the warmth of his chest started pressing itself against your back, arms around you, holding the cart and pushing it along with you. You kept walking, but merely biting your lips just to keep them from curving up too much had grown too difficult for you to do.

You glanced over your shoulder and suddenly you felt his nose against your cheek. And it was a miracle you were still alive at the rate your heart was going. Your bones were about to break, but it was that wonderful gooey madness that sent your mind miles up into the clouds.

Even when you reached the shelf, he didn’t move.

Then your breath hitched when you felt his nose against your shoulder.

“You gonna shelf those or what?”

Jason laughed. The deepest, breathless laugh that clenched every muscle in your body. He wasn’t holding your hands but you could feel his thumbs feeling your skin, ever so slightly brushing them against you. He was so close to you. So burning and even scorching with him pressed to your back like that. You could easily cut the tension between you two with just your fingernail.

“Jason…”

“You shelf it.”

“I can't.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, you’re blocking the way.”

“You want me to move?”

Looking back over your shoulder to scoff, only to freeze when his mouth slightly touched your cheek for the briefest, yet most wonderful moment, you sighed.

“Yes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m asking you to move.”

“You didn’t ask me to move.”

“I said yes to your question.”

“Then say you want me to move.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll arrange them.”

“How wi-“

You bent over with him still against your back, just for the shortest second to grab the last few books, then you stood back up and placed them onto the shelf not caring if they were arranged.

Then you turned around, just so you could have a good look of his flustered skin and uneasy breath. Shaking his head, he kept you caged in his arms and leaned down just to narrowly hover over your face.

“Are you gonna let me out or do I have to force myself out?”

“You threatening me, Y/LN?”

“I just might be, Todd.”

“Mmm,” he groaned, and it made every nerve in you shiver.

Then his face was nearer, nearer, closer until your noses touched but not your lips. You fluttered your eyes close, relaxing every muscle on your body including your mouth. He brushed your noses together so delicately and sweet that you couldn’t even bring yourself to smile when every part of you just wanted to enjoy and take all of him in. His breath. His bright blue eyes. The way they were looking at you with his pupils so clearly dilating again.

When he tried leaning down to kiss you, you swerved away just to keep that teasing alive. You were having way too much fun.

“Y/N…”

But you quirked up a brow, swerving away again when he pulled you once more. Groaning when you leaned your head back, he pushed his tongue to the side of his gums.

Then you were once again grabbed into a headlock by his incredibly strong arms, knuckles on your scalp, rubbing them so you were screaming out for help. You thrashed about, but he kept you in his hold. Eventually you were wrestling so much that you ended up on the floor, rolling. He pulled you until his back was leaning against the shelves and you were laying your head on his lap with his one arm still holding you down.

“PLEASE STOP. PLEASE STOP!!!” You yelped.

“NO!”

“JAY, COME ON!!!”

“NO!!!”

You managed to grab one of his hands, pulling it away, but he only rolled you over. Finally you shrugged yourself off him and blew the strands of hair up your forehead.

“That never gets old.”

“Shut up, now I look like a mess.”

You were sitting cross legged right in front of him. Jason laid his head against the shelf, watching you comb it with your fingers. You glared at him, but when you caught his eyes for more than three seconds you were smiling off your face.

Jason reached over to mess up your hair again, and you held him by the wrists so desperately trying to hold him off. Your laughs were silent, playfully cursing at each other, but you were on the floor playing all the way until the last, final minutes of your detention sentence had finally come to a close.

Still trying to hold his hands away, he settled when you both heard Ms. Peterson clean up her desk. It was 5 pm. You spent too much time.

You couldn’t believe this was over. This. Jason in the library. Jason with the books. Jason having a reason to be with you all the time.

Calming down, you inched yourself closer to him. He looked so relaxed and heavenly watching you like you were the ocean so calm.

You didn’t know if you should be asking him. But you really wanted to. It could be a step. A small step. But a step nonetheless.

“Hey uhm,” you looked down at his shirt, of which you were playing the hem with your fingers. “Do you have to go home early tonight?”

“Not really,” he smiled. “I’m taking you home.”

“That’s the thing. See, I have this thing at the gym in five minutes. Rehearsals for tomorrow’s dance. Well, not rehearsals since I haven’t even picked a song. But they asked me to come over and test the mic…”

You stopped for a moment when he reached for your hair to hook it behind your ear.

“Would you wanna come?

He didn’t even flinch. “Sure.”

“Only if you don’t have any other plans… It won't take long though.”

“I’m alright. I’ll go with you anywhere.”

Biting both your lips, you hadn’t realized how amused you looked just staring at the ground.

“This is our last day here…”

You looked around at the books, at the walls, at the ceiling and windows.

It worried you when you thought of this day coming. That somehow your time with Jason would end along with your time in the library.

But no longer was that the case when he held your hand so tightly, watched your face move the way no one ever has ever cared about the littlest details on your face.

Thank you, you told the library.

-----

The decorations in the gym were already halfway done, with snowflakes falling from the ceiling and some silver carpet to make the floor look like an ice rink. A stand was at the middle, which meant an ice sculpture was probably going to be fixed on top of it. Jason watched you take a snowflake in your hand.

“This is made out of construction paper and glitter,” you groaned in disgust.

“You two!” A short man with glasses and a clipboard went over to you. “You can start by blowing those boxes of balloons over there, then help with sticking them to the center of the stage.”

He pointed to a box which sat on the lowest seat on the bleachers.

“We’re not here to help-“

The man held his hips. “Oh¸ so you guys are just gonna stand there and watch us work?”

“I’m here for rehearsals.”

“And we don’t want any useless pricks lounging around while we work. The sound guys won't be here for another hour. Either you get out or help everyone else.”

“Listen here, you little Gollum shi-“

“We’ll help,” Jason soothed your back.

“Good.” He waved for you to the balloons again. “Help yourself.”

Jason walked you towards it and placed his hand on your back again.

“Jason-“

“Come on,” he squeezed your shoulder. “This is fine.”

“I don’t want to be here-“

“These are balloons. If anything, we’ll just sneak out.”

“Yeah. ‘Cuz that always brought us good before-“

“It won't be that bad.”

“We just finished a ten-week sentence and now you still wanna work?”

“It’s not work if you don’t think it’s work.”

“I didn’t even want to come here. Those assholes at the committee told me to come over and I swear I was about to shove their heads in a-”

“What if I told you I just want to spend more time with the girl I like?” He smiled. “Would you stay?”

You squirmed.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d be giggling beneath your breath. But you weren’t about to giggle. Not for another lightyear. Instead, you just gave in.

Biting back that giggling couldn;t stop the embarrassing grin from resurfacing.

“Fine.”

You and Jason sat beside each other on the seats, opened the box and took two air pumps that were inside it.

Jason took a balloon and blew air into it in four strong pumps. “This is easy enough.”

“Give me. I’ll tie it together.”

He gave you the balloon and you tied the end of it in a tight knot. “This is like when we did that damage check with the books.”

“Yeah,” you took another inflated balloon from him. “I say we make a great team.”

“We do,” Jason said and winked at you. You rolled your eyes and looked away so he wouldn’t see your face.

“What are you gonna sing tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” Your eyes kept on Jason with the pump. The veins on his arms showed each time he flexed. “I’ll have to look into some song choices tonight.”

“Are you nervous?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I’ve done it a couple times.”

“You know, I’m still mad at how I’m basically the last to know in this whole school.”

“You baby.”

“Oh, we calling each other that now?”

God, this dickhead was going to be the death of you.

Scoffing at him and pretending that didn’t make you flush, you tied a strong knot and threw a balloon at him. He chuckled and threw it back.

“Stop. Or you’ll end up blowing them up.”

You threw another balloon at him. “No.”

He smushed a balloon into your face. “You know you can't win against me with this.”

He inflated another one and handed it to you, and you snatched it away, lightly hitting the top of his head with it once you tied the knot. “Whatever.”

You felt him smile at you while you looked away. For thirty minutes, you kept with the balloons until you placed them all in a sack.

You were at the stage with a box full of thumbtacks as you and Jason stuck the balloons onto the wall. “I prefer handling books, honestly.”

“I know. But we’ve got to stop getting into trouble just to hang out.”

Jason smirked at you. “So you purposely did all this just to hang out with me, do you?”

“You’re insane.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

You turned to your side. But Jason wasn’t there. Your back suddenly felt just a little bit heavier and something was tickling the back of your legs. You looked down behind you.

Three balloons were stuck to the hem of your jacket. Jason was right behind you, laughing.

“YOU ASS.” You ripped the balloons off. “I’m gonna kill you one of these days.”

“I’m gonna kill you one of these days,” Jason mimicked your voice with an annoyingly high-pitched tone. Snarling at him, he neared his face to you. “You wouldn’t,” he whispered.

“Yeah. I would.”

“Nah,” he stuck two balloons onto the walls. “You like me too much.”

“I hate you.”

“Do you?” He lightly touched your nose with a balloon. Rolling your eyes, you went back to work. After a while, you held on to the bottom of a ladder while Jason was working on the balloons at the top.

“I know you have plans on murdering me, but I appreciate it if you don’t let me fall off a ladder.”

“Eh,” you said. “Ladders aren’t exactly what I’d use to kill people.”

“Are you actually admitting to being a serial killer?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at you as he stuck a balloon to the top. “You definitely are.”

Ever so slightly, you shook the ladder in your hands. Jason froze and held onto the wall. “NOT FUNNY.”

You laughed. “Totally is.”

“Y/N!” you heard someone say all the way from the sound systems at the back. “Why don’t you start testing out the microphone!”

Looking down at you, Jason grinned.

“You’re performing tomorrow, right?”

You kept holding onto the ladder. “Yeah!” you screamed back.

“Awesome. Give us a bit of a rehearsal so we can adjust the monitor.”

Jason walked down the ladder, hands on his pockets and smiling as he watched you walk over to the front. The stage made the rest of the gym look dark, and you could barely see anyone’s faces that were looking straight at you. “Lookin’ great!”

You rolled your eyes.

“Can you hear me?” you spoke into the mic, but you couldn’t hear much of your voice. The sound guys gave you a thumbs up.

“I can't hear myself,” you said. “Maybe turn me up a little.”

You squinted when you suddenly heard some laughing. The guys at the sound controls cried back. “Sure! I’d love to turn you up a little, baby!”

Jason’s smile dropped immediately and he looked like he was about to go up to those guys and stick the microphone up their asses.

“You little-”

“Just turn my voice up BEFORE I LET YOU INHALE THOSE WIRES ALL THE WAY DOWN YOUR INTESTINES,” you screamed at everybody in the gym

Jason stopped his tracks, looked back at you all wide eyed. Then his chuckle could be heard through the mic. You weren’t laughing with him, though.

Everyone had grown silent, with you glaring at the sound guys shivering at you. “Turning you up! S-sorry!”

Jason did not at all look faltered. Didn’t even flinch when you screamed.

“Nice,” he said.

Then you started with your singing. You tested the microphone until you could hear your voice perfectly. You didn’t exactly sing a full song. You just did runs with your voice and a few verses. Then when you turned to Jason, who looked like he had hearts for eyes, you chortled. “Alright. That’s good,” you told the guys.

Walking away from the microphone, you faced him.

It was just the two of you on stage.

“I can't wait for tomorrow.”

You bit onto your lip. “You know I hate dances.”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping forward. “I can tell.”

You looked straight at him without looking away even as he met your gaze and returned your flushed expression.

How was it, that every time you faced him, and he was looking at you the way he was now, that everything else around you just seemed to disappear?

It didn’t matter what you did, or where you were. Any other noise there was and all the people around had ceased to exist. Even with the cheap décor, Jason made everything look beautiful.

“Listen.”

Jason’s eyes were at the ground. “I know that, uhm, we don’t exactly have to go to the library anymore to hang out. And I know we’ll probably just see each other in class and in the hallways anyway so it’s not to say we won't be able to hang out.”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“But,” he gulped. “I mean. We don’t have to. Like. I can still see you after school. We can stay at the library and study-“

“Study?” This boy was an absolute nerd.

“Not study! But, you know, just sit and talk. Or do whatever you like. It doesn’t have to be the library. I just, you know, hope we can still hang out. Outside of school maybe.”

His hands were deep in his jeans and his shoulders were slumped down. If this was his way of asking you out, he was way beyond being a nerd. This was just being adorable at this point. And he did look adorable.

“I can do that,” you smiled, your hands in front of you.

“There’s this Christmas market opening near your apartment. It opens tonight. Maybe you’d wanna go? Not necessarily tonight. Just, anytime you're free.” You could see the sweat down his forehead. “It’s mostly got food stalls and a bit of gift shops. It’s much nicer when it’s snowing, though.”

You watched him fumble, then he met your eyes, how lovingly they were staring at him, and it gave him the comfort he needed.

“We can go right now,” you said. “Even without snow, I’m sure it’s fine. Better than this.”

You pointed up at the cheap snowflakes almost falling out onto the ground and the balloons you stuck to the wall. Jason scratched the back of his head. “I would love that.”

“Awesome.”

Alone up on stage, with a few people in the gym and the blue and white lights shining from above you, Jason looked at you like you were brighter than any of those lights. “It’s a date.”

You looked down at his lips, and he took that chance to step even closer to you. You felt his hand hold your arm, and your own hand on his shoulder. He leaned down to your lips.

“HEY!”

You both pulled away and looked out at every other direction, hands in your pockets. The guy with a clipboard screamed from the bottom of the stage. “Finish those balloons up so we can go home!”

Jason turned to you. “We should-“

“Yeah.”

Fumbling back to the balloons, you worked in silence. Comfortable silence. The best kind of silence.

-----

You held onto his waist, and he sped down to the plaza.

You’ve been to Christmas markets before. Though they weren’t exactly your style, looking at it now, you thought it looked magical.

The huts made of wood were lined up in aisles, with the walkway in between wide enough to be a street. Though there were no cars, it was big enough for dozens of people scattered about, some at the stalls, some just walking around, and some at the benches at the center. The roofs were covered in white cotton to look like snow, and on the inside, lit up with yellow lighting that contrasted nicely against the night’s deep blues. You could smell peppermint in the air, since there were a number of candy shops besides the ones with toys.

The end of the aisle turned over to the left, where even more shops were lined up, was a large Christmas tree standing as high as the buildings. There was a bright star on top, and the lights and ornaments glistened in bright reds, greens, and yellows.

It was exactly how they made Christmas towns look like in the movies. Normally, when you came up to a place like this, the beauty of it was the last thing you’d notice. Normally, you’d see what was wrong with everything and hate them. Not today, though. All you felt was warmth.

A cloud of smoke escaped your lips when you breathed. Jason walked beside you, down the street with the bustling of the crowd. “I’ll get you some coffee”

You nodded, then you went with him as he bought you a cup. Exactly the mix you wanted.

You were crazy over this boy.

The place was beautiful. And the lights were so bright, you couldn’t help but look around and marvel at everything you could see. You never admired so many things at once. The sounds of the people around you, the cold seeping through your toes, your shivering from the wind.

But even then, your eyes always trailed back to Jason. He was the most beautiful.

Handing you the cup, you walked slowly down the shops. “This place is really nice.”

“Yeah?” He seemed excited. “You like it?”

If it weren’t with him, you’d be so indifferent to the shops and the food that you wouldn’t bother to look around at all. But you were with him, and his smile made your stomach do flips and turns in the most wonderful, blissful way. You nodded. “I love it.”

This was a date. Your first date with Jason. Jesus, you’ve never been so excited and nervous over anything in your life.

You sipped on your coffee to calm yourself down.

“What will you be doing over winter break?”

You shrugged. “Probably be at home. We don’t exactly have plans for Christmas.”

“Me neither. We can go to… more places… together. If you like.”

You decided to drop the awkward façade and laugh at him. “Jeez, you’ve become a real dork, Todd.”

Jason’s nervousness mellowed down. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You sipped at your coffee, looking straight at his eyes. “It’s adorable.”

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I will.”

You turned over at the corner, where the Christmas tree was at the other end. “I’d love to, by the way. Go to places with you over the break.”

His smile warmed you up more than the coffee had that night. He bit his lip, then turned away.

After you bought two turkey legs, you sat on an empty bench so close to each other, and watched as people walked past you.

“Jay. Look.”

It was Ms. Peterson with who seemed to be her grandson. Barely five years old as you could tell. She was telling the boy off for dropping his ice cream cone.

Her grandson seemed to take after her though, since he was screaming back at her while crying.

“Jesus,” Jason leaned over to you. “Watch this.”

“MS. P!!!” he screamed.

The librarian turned to you both, horrified, then her grandson ran off into the other stall and she ignored Jason to go after him.

“I’ll miss her,” you said, biting into your turkey leg. “I can't believe it. But I will.”

“Yeah. I’ll miss everything about the library.”

Your shoulders touched as you turned to him. “Me too.”

You saw a bit of his food smudged near his lip, so you wiped it away with your finger. Jason never took his eyes off you while you did that.

You then slumped back onto the bench and continued with your turkey leg, talking just like you always had with him, with the frequent bickering and the teasing and the laughs you’d most often shared. Jason pressed his side right against yours.

And when the moment seemed perfect enough, when you just couldn’t help it anymore, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

Your eyes were locked onto the ground, but you could feel his were on you, head craned down and his lips lightly touching your hairline. Then he pressed his nose against your hair, inhaling, and he stayed that way for a little while. You didn’t want to move. You wanted him to keep holding you that way for the rest of the night. You never wanted to go home. You just wanted to be by his side.

You had so much to tell him. But it could have only boiled down to something so brief.

“Thank you,” you said.

He didn’t move, but you felt his nose against your forehead as he hummed. “For what?”

“Everything. For the past ten weeks.”

He sighed and pulled you closer. “I should be the one thanking you.”

His arm went around your shoulder and pulled you even closer. So close, even with the cold you felt warm. You shifted into his arm so he could encase you in it. He could rest his chin at the top of your head now, and with that, you closed your eyes.

Snow. The first snowfall of the year. You both looked up, feeling the light trickling into your skin, so freezing that your muscles were stuck on its lingering smiles. The music blaring from the speakers turned up. Christmas songs. Soft, mellow ones that weren’t so overplayed and annoying.

You couldn’t possibly have chosen a better night. It was perfect. And so beautiful. Your heart has never felt so pure. So lightly beating that the comfort it brought you sent you over the edge. You turned to look at Jason.

He’d been staring at you for quite some time.

But he didn’t look away this time. He kept his eyes on you, and yours on him. Inching forward, you felt his gloved hands ghost over yours.

You welcomed his fingers without an ounce of reluctance. Jason held your hand so tight, you felt like you’d never be able to slip away or fall or be of any distance apart from him.

And he looked so handsome, staring at you, so close to your face.

“Your face is all frozen,” he teased.

“I know.”

“You look like a porcelain doll.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” he said. You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue to the side of your mouth. “I hate you.”

Then you felt his hand tighten and his hot breath against your cold skin.

“Do you really hate me?”

Once, as a child, you stuck a pin into an electrical outlet wanting to know how it was like being shocked. You remembered the feeling; it was like being stabbed but with a billion needles down your nerves. And it made you jump. It was exactly that feeling, except it was wonderful. It had that same buzz, that same rush. But it was addicting. His eyes had that effect on you since the first time you sat this close to him.

“No,” you whispered. “I don’t.”

Rubbing your thumb down his palm, your other hand went to hold him as well. He was so close to you now. Jason looked so lovingly into your eyes, it was the only thing more beautiful than the moon on nights when it was cloudless.

“Do you hate me?” you asked him.

And when you thought you finally caught your breath, his finger trailed down your cheek.

“Not even a little bit.”

Silence. Comfort. Depth. Beauty.

Just ten weeks ago, you thought the world hated you as much as you hated the world. You thought growing soft would render you so vulnerable that you’d never be able to succeed in its cruelties, that if you didn’t have your defenses up all the time, you’d lose yourself.

But with a world that brought you here, where you couldn’t even find just one thing you could say you hate. When you loved the way your boots sounded walking down the wooden planks, when the bright yellow lights of the stalls contrasted greatly in the night, when the Christmas tree brought you as much hope inside you, gifts that couldn’t be held, when you loved the way the snow fell to your cheeks, how nicely the cold trickled past your clothes.

When someone you could look at all day without ever growing tired of how his jaw clenches, how his nose scrunches, how his eyebrows narrow, or how his teeth bite his lips. When you could never grow tired of talking about anything, knowing he wants you for you, how you never started out having to change yourself, yet here he was, holding you so delicately you could break.

How, despite everything you are, despite everything you’ve done, he held you like you were the most precious, valuable treasure in his hands.

Jason. Jason.

You couldn’t hate the world as much. Not anymore. Not when you had him.

You couldn’t possibly ask for a better first date. At almost midnight, Jason took you to your apartment. He walked you to the steps, still holding your hand. The snow had slowed down yet everything went on to feel cool when blowing against your warmth. Under a single lamp post, your hands in your coat, you looked up at him.

“Tonight was amazing.”

“It was,” he whispered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. At the dance.”

“I can't wait.”

Something jumped. Deep inside your chest. You froze to the ground when Jason leaned in, and ever so gently, placed his lips on your cheek.

You closed your eyes and felt him so close. He was so perfect.

Jason watched you go up the steps, walking into your apartment. “Good night, Jason.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

You didn’t even wait until the door was closed when you smiled the brightest smile you’ve had in a really, really long time.

----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

TAGLIST

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hello! I wanted to ask, could you reccommend any fics with really innocent bottom Sherlock being nervous before his first time with John? And John of course being understanding and gentle with him. Thank you!

Hi Nonny!!

Check out my bottomlock recs, they’re 80% this request :) AND I’m using this opportunity to update that list, it’s been a couple years, LOL <3 Here’s some newer fics I’ve read!

BOTTOMLOCK Pt. 2

See Also:

Bottomlock Pt. 1 (April 2019)

Toplock (Mar 2020)

Erotic Beyond Belief by bloodsoakedleather (E, 748 w., 1 Ch. || Autofellatio, Masturbation, PWP, Anal Fingering, Shameless Smut, Establish Relationship) – John watches as Sherlock demonstrates a particular talent. Part 1 of Johnlock Porny Ficlets

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The shape of the world around us by Salambo06 (E, 15,058 w., 5 Ch. || Lumberjack John / Botanist Sherlock, Different First Meeting, John Has a Beard, Light Case Fic, Flirting, First Kiss / Time, Masturbation, Love at First Sight, Horny Sherlock, John’s Bum, Bottomlock, Tenderness, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Shy Sherlock, Sexual Fantasies) – Looking through the bush, Sherlock felt his heartbeat quicken as a man passed in front of him. Sherlock frowned, trying to get a closer look despite the bush. The man was wearing a red plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, and Sherlock couldn't take his eyes off the man’s arms. Muscular, slightly tanned with golden hairs along his forearms. For some unknown reason, Sherlock found himself imagining them around his waist, holding him tightly. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, Sherlock shook his head. Opening his eyes and looking back to where the man stood only a moment prior, he found himself alone. Great, now his only chance to find his way back to town was gone. “Why are you wearing a suit?”

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Showering Together, Couple for a Case, Sherlock’s Bum, Fantasies, Jealous Sherlock) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #bottomlock #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

Choices September Challenge

Day 16 I'm Sorry

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries/The Royal Romance Crossover drabble.

A/N This is actually a fic I have had sitting in my draft folders forever. Someone a while back requested another first time meeting gone horribly wrong for this OTP and I kept getting stuck on the ending. Once more, let’s get these two stubborn people together, LOL!

@choicesseptemberchallenge20 @xjustin-ethansgirliex @lovealexhunt@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desireepow-1986 @greywitchyshots @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms @kate-mckenzie

Masterlist

Great Expectations

Olivia quirked an eyebrow in question as Amanda walked into her suite.

Instead of the usual calm, sweet greeting followed by an attempt to coerce her into doing something fun, Amanda threw her purse across the room and let out a strange, strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like a string of curse words trying to be smothered by guilt.

"I would ask what is wrong, but I assume you are about to tell me." Olivia drily remarked.

"Remember when I was excited that Maxwell invited us all to come here and see how The Royal Romance movie was going?" Amanda asked.

"I believe I recall you skipping down the palace halls." Olivia responded.

Amanda narrowed her eyes at her. "Well, the skipping is done." She flopped face down on Olivia's couch. "I hate everything here." She mumbled into the cushions.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Must we succumb to overly dramatic behavior?"

Amanda turned her face toward her. "Are you seriously asking me this when just last week you threatened to throw every dagger you had at the waiter for accidentally calling you Madeleine?"

Olivia flicked her hand dismissively. "Details." She sat down in a chair across from her friend. "What happened?"

Amanda closed her eyes. "It all started this morning."

****************

Around 8 a.m., The Beverly Wilshire...

"Wake up!" Maxwell burst into Amanda's suite and proceeded to jump on her bed.

"Wha?" Amanda rolled off of it in a tangle of blankets. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get ready and go to the studio." He leaped off her bed and went straight to her closet. "Hmm." He pulled one dress out after another. "Is this all you packed?"

Amanda stumbled over to the closet. "Why are you going through my clothes?"

He finally settled on a skirt and sweater. "I need you to go to the studio and give this to Thomas Hunt.” He held up a large manila envelope. "Within this lies the very heart of The Royal Romance."

She blinked sleepily a few times. "Why do I have to do this?" She gestured toward his body. "You're already dressed and fully compos mentis."

His dimples deepened with his grin. "You shouldn't use Latin if you are trying to get out of this with the excuse that you are dumb with sleep." He gently pushed her into the bathroom. "Get ready. I arranged a surprise for you."

"What kind of sur--" her words were cut off by him shutting the door.

She dropped her head back in frustration while going through a list of reasons why she shouldn't crawl back into bed. It was then followed by a list of reasons of what Maxwell would do to get her to do this. After a quick three minutes of debate, she reluctantly started the shower.

****************

Olivia’s suite

"So, this is about making you get up early this morning?" Olivia snorted. "This is why I don't give my room keys to anyone."

"It wasn't that horrific event that cemented this burning hatred of mine." Amanda turned over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. "It was that jerk, Thomas Hunt."

Olivia did not bother to hide her surprise. "Wasn't he the reason you had that little hop to your skipping?"

Amanda closed her eyes. "They say never meet your heroes."

"He's a hero?!" Olivia wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Does the man even know how to fight?"

"I don't mean that kind of hero!" Amanda muttered. She let out another strangled, frustrated sound. "I admired him. His movies are some of my favorites."

"And you certainly never shied away from admiring his underwear modeling days." Olivia artfully dodged to the right when Amanda threw a decorative pillow at her. "Wasn't there a poster in your bedroom at one point?"

“FINE! I THOUGHT HE WAS ATTRACTIVE!" Amanda shouted. "Today proved differently."

"Was he not in his underwear?" Olivia easily batted a second throw pillow away that was aimed for her face. "What did he do?"

****************

Earlier that day, at the studio…

"I've seen your picture in magazines."

Amanda smiled at the intern escorting her toward Thomas Hunt's office. "Hopefully, I didn't look like I normally do." She shuddered. "I take horrible photographs."

"I thought you looked pretty." The hopeful actress replied. "You and Queen Riley were laughing at Maxwell Beaumont."

Amanda chuckled at that. "So, a normal day was photographed?"

The girl's phone vibrated. "I have to go handle this." She apologized to the duchess. "Mr. Hunt's office is the last door on the left."

"Thank you." Amanda watched her leave, then pulled out Maxwell's packet for the script. "Why did I agree to deliver this?" She mumbled as she continued down the long hallway.

When she reached the door, she paused before knocking. Voices raised in what sounded like anger could be heard.

Not wanting to walk in on an argument, Amanda checked to make certain no one else was in the hallway. She then pressed her ear to the door.

******************

"You know I don't have time to cater to a rich, spoiled woman! Maxwell is now suggesting that I take this--" Thomas checked the text message once more. "This Lady Amanda on not only a more in-depth tour of the studio but also to some of the historical sites around Los Angeles." He slammed a drawer shut to help rid himself of his mounting irritation. "If I ever act remotely interested in another story from some playboy royal, you have my permission to have me committed to the nearest asylum."

Holly rolled her eyes at his dramatic outburst. "Then don't take her out. It's a simple fix."

"If Maxwell's unhappy then the studio heads will become upset." He explained. "Next, it rolls downhill on us." He glared out the window. "What right does this duchess have to demand I take her around as her glorified tour guide?!"

"It might not be so bad." Addison pointed out. "She must be important to Maxwell if he asked you to do this."

"Apparently she is his bff or whatever acronym he used." Thomas spat. "I would rather deal with practically anyone else on this planet than babysit some snobbish, probably doesn't even know how to act in public, idiotic woman."

******************

Amanda took a step bac from his door. Her heart sank at discovering the director she had so admired was in truth a spoiled jerk.

Her lips firmed in a frown as her anger slowly took over her sadness.

“He--I’ll show--oohhh!” She gasped, unable to get a complete insult out.

She took a deep breath and returned to the receptionist desk. “Something has come up.” Amanda explained. “Would you mind giving Maxwell’s notes to Mr. Hunt?” She nearly strangled on his name.

“No problem.” The young intern replied. She tilted her head in question. “Are you okay?”

Amanda nodded quickly. “I am.” Or at least I will be once I get away from here, she thought. I will NEVER spend a moment in that loathsome man’s company.

******************

"I don't think I have ever seen you this angry." Olivia's eyebrows were lifted in surprise as she observed Amanda pacing about the suite. "Why didn't you confront him?"

"Because I don't do that kind of thing." Amanda snapped. She quickly apologized to her friend. "You know I try and be nice to everyone." Her eyes narrowed. "Something about that man got under my skin. How dare he judge me without meeting me?!"

Olivia's lips turned up somewhat. "What will you do when we are all at the set tomorrow?"

"Maybe I shouldn't go." Amanda muttered. "I can't embarrass Maxwell by setting Thomas Hunt straight."

"Now I'm making you go." Olivia announced. "I think it's time you felt that sweet relief of finally unleashing your temper." Her smile grew. "You don't know what you have been missing all these years."

“We’ll see.” Amanda murmured. “Do you know where Maxwell is?”

“No. Why?”

“Because I am going to make sure that I am never put in the path of Thomas Hunt again.”

*************

The Blvd restaurant, The Beverly Wilshire...

"There you are." Amanda said between clenched teeth.

Maxwell looked up. "Hey! How did the meeting go?"

She sat down across from him. "Why did you decide to ask Thomas Hunt of all people to give me a tour?!"

His blue eyes widened when he realized she was upset. "Because you've always been crazy about him."

"I have not." She snapped, refusing to accept she remotely found the director anything other than repulsive.

"Really?" Maxwell folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "I would like to present to the jury, exhibit A: The Calvin Klein poster of one man, Thomas Hunt, in nothing but boxer briefs." He shuddered at the memory. "I still suffer from PTSD whenever I see your closet door cracked open."

Angry spots of color appeared on her cheeks. "I was young and stupid and had horrible taste in men."

"Exhibit B: You own all his movies, including the one he has a brief cameo in." Maxwell continued.

"I own a lot of movies." Amanda muttered. "He just happens to make some."

"Exhibit C:," Maxwell pointed out. "When I told you, I had been offered a chance to have The Royal Romance turned into a film, you literally chanted that Thomas Hunt needs to direct until I talked to my agent."

"I wanted your story to earn critical acclaim." Amanda averted her eyes.

"Exhibit D--"

"Enough!" Amanda hissed. "I get it, okay?" She leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. "Don't ever force me to--"

"Thomas!" Maxwell yelled out, waving toward the director.

Amanda felt her stomach drop when she felt his angry presence pause behind her right shoulder.

"Maxwell." Thomas greeted curtly. “I waited for as long as I could on your,” his tone hardened, “Lady Amanda, but she never showed up.”

Maxwell turned his attention to her. “You didn’t deliver my notes?”

"I did." Amanda snapped, her eyes darted to Thomas. "But I didn’t want to spend a single second in your company."

His eyes widened. "I beg your pardon, what--"

"I refuse to spend the day with a man who so readily judges a person without meeting them." Her chin lifted. "You made it quite clear this morning what you think of me."

Thomas remembered his intern bringing in Maxwell's notes. "You were the one who came by today." His temper snapped. "On top of everything, you listened in on a conversation that wasn't any of your business. Why am I not surprised?" He mocked.

Amanda moved quickly out of the booth until she was standing directly in front of him. Her eyes flashed as heated color flooded her cheeks. "It wasn't hard since you were yelling like a petulant child." Her mocking smile appeared. "I'm grateful that I found out what type of egotistical, judgmental, miserable old man you truly are before being forced to accept your escort anywhere."

"Nowhere nearly as much as I am." Thomas barked, stung by her insults. "I wouldn't escort you a single inch across this room. You've proven that I should continue to trust my gut instinct when it comes to people like you." He bowed in an exagerated insult. "Thank you, Lady Amanda, it has been a pleasure that I hope is never repeated."

Unable to think of a proper insult, Amanda’s eyes sparked with unshed tears. She didn’t want to give this wretched man the satisfaction of thinking he had hurt her to the point of crying.

Without a word, she shoved past him and quickly left the restaurant.

"I had that going differently in my mind." Maxwell said once Thomas sat down. "Maybe after she cools off, the two of you could--"

"Maxwell, there will never be the two of us if Amanda is a part of that equation." Thomas stated firmly. "I will never spend a moment alone with her."

****************

Olivia’s suite, again…

"You should have used one of the butter knives on him." Olivia told her. "I've trained you in the places on the human body that will cause the most pain."

Amanda sighed.

"At least you stood up for yourself." Olivia continued.

Amanda nodded silently.

"Don't tell me you regret this?" Olivia prodded at the lack of verbal response.

"I'm exhausted." Amanda finally said. "I haven't lost my temper like that in years." She ran her hands over her face. "I just stopped by to let you know I'm not going out tonight." She got up and gave a swift hug to Olivia. "Thank you for letting me vent again."

"Don't let that man keep you from going out." Olivia ordered. "Take a nap. I'll make certain you're not disturbed, and we can join everyone else for dinner."

Amanda neither agreed nor disagreed. She gave a halfhearted smile and left.

****************

That night...

"I want everyone who has a spare key to my suite to return them." Amanda announced at dinner.

Maxwell and Olivia ignored her request.

Drake quirked an eyebrow at her. "How many keys were you given?"

"I thought just one." Her eyes narrowed. "Yet, I've had no less than four people enter my room today."

Hana blushed and handed her key card over. "Maxwell told me to help with picking out a dress or two."

Riley slid hers over. "Me too."

"I appreciate the concern." She narrowed her eyes on Maxwell as he raised his menu up to hide his face. "But it is not necessary." Her bitterness then settled on Olivia. "Nor was the wakeup call."

The red head merely shrugged. "I'm not going to allow you to lock yourself away to wallow in guilt and misery over Thomas Hunt."

"I wasn't wallowing!" Amanda snapped. "I was sleeping because Maxwell woke me up after at practically the crack of dawn!"

"As soon as you awoke, you would have started the misery and guilt trip." Olivia calmly stated. "It never fails to happen once you lose your temper."

"It's true." Maxwell added.

Amanda slumped in her chair. All the fight left her. She knew they were right.

“Don’t worry about Thomas.” Maxwell told her. “Tomorrow, he’ll be so busy with the movie that he won’t even notice you’re there.”

*****************

The next day...

Thomas surreptitiously peeked over the script each time he heard Amanda's voice or laughter. Seeing her this way made sense that she was friends with the group whose story he was filming.

She wasn't the irrational shrew he had unleashed the day before.

She looked like a different person. Gone was her insulting temper. For some reason, he was puzzled by her appearance. She hadn't bothered to wear any jewelry other than a watch, which she kept glancing at. He expected her to dress according to her station. Yet she looked like she would easily blend in with a crowd.

He suspected that he would have spotted her immediately.

His eyes moved down her figure when the group followed Addison, leaving him to review today's schedule. Since their altercation, he had been unable to get her off his mind. He had even dreamed about her.

It was disturbing that he woke up in a cold sweat over her. The dream had him ending their fight differently. That was the last thing he wanted to do with her.

Thomas couldn't hear what she was saying, but the entire group were laughing at an observation she made.

He swallowed the last of his coffee and decided to get another cup as the group moved closer to craft services.

"Where are you going?" Holly asked.

"Coffee." He muttered, wondering why Amanda wouldn't look his way. He had expected glares the entire time, not being completely ignored.

“Three cups of coffee wasn’t enough?” she asked.

"What?" He asked.

"You've had three cups." Holly pointed out. "You never have more than that in the morning."

He couldn't think of a clever enough retort, so he walked off without a response.

"This might be my favorite part of filmmaking." Maxwell teased as he reached for one of the fresh pastries Addison offered.

Amanda's smile disappeared when Thomas approached. She moved away from the table, pretending interest in a prop, when he came along next to her for the coffee pot.

He glanced at her back, deciding to force her to acknowledge his presence. "Is there anything I can get you, Lady Bridgerton?"

Her shoulders stiffened. Without looking at him, she automatically responded. "No thank you." Before Thomas could say anything else, she quickly walked over to the set that was a recreation of the palace's hedge maze lit by moonlight.

Her lips curved. She was impressed with the attention to detail the film crew had done. She walked the familiar path, turning to see the swing she had spent a great deal of her childhood on.

Thomas appeared beside her.

She stubbornly looked straight ahead.

"What do you think?" He prodded.

"About what?" She responded, folding her arms across her chest.

"The soundstage? The sets?" He motioned around. "I know you were wanting to tour a studio. Does this meet your approval?"

"It does." She couldn't quite hide her excitement at seeing something like this in person. "I find it fascinating."

He blinked at her words. "I'm…glad."

She stiffened once more at having inadvertently complimented him and tried to get around the hateful man. "If you will excuse me,"

"Perhaps I can--"He began, surprised at the thought of trying to rectify her opinion of him.

“Good day, Mr. Hunt." She tried to escape yet saw that he blocked her path. When he seemed unable to move, she squeezed past.

Their bodies brushed one another, causing her to pause.

Their eyes met and she quickly wiggled free.

He watched her hurry off to rejoin the others.

Thomas tossed his untouched coffee in the garbage and returned to work.

*******************

A few days later, they bumped into each other inside the hotel.

"Lady Bridgerton." He gently grasped her arms. "Nice to see you again."

She grit her teeth. "Please stop calling me Lady." Her eyes narrowed. "Since I discovered your opinion on nobles, I know you mean it as a verbal jab."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Then what should I call you?"

"Amanda." She replied. "But I don't believe I will hear it often since we will never spend more time together." She smirked and left him.

He knew he was supposed to meet with Maxwell, but instead decided to follow her into the hotel's restaurant.

He talked the hostess into seating him in a booth beside Amanda's. He couldn't recall a time in his life when he desired to annoy anyone as much as he did her.

He settled his gaze on her after ordering a drink.

Amanda gripped her menu and purposefully kept her eyes averted.

After a few moments, she dropped her head into her hands. "Why are you trying to drive me crazy?" She practically pleaded. "You can’t stand me, yet you sit there on purpose to stare!"

"You never allow me to finish what I’m saying.” He countered, scooting around his booth.

“Why should I?” she snapped. “You are only going to hurl more insults my way.”

“How do you know?” He asked. “Do you dare presume to know my mind?”

She scooted closer, eyes narrowing. "You don't like me!" She hissed. "And I'm not too fond of you." Her eyes searched his. "Why are you trying to talk to me? I made certain to not bother you at the studio and have not returned each day when the others have."

Thomas propped his arm on the seat and leaned closer to her. "I don't know." His eyes touched on her hair softly curling toward her cheek, guiding his eyes to her lips. "But you have been on my mind." His eyes lifted to hers. "Perhaps it is because I have yet to meet the real you. I’ve seen you at your worst, and yet with those you care for…you’re a completely different person. Who is the real, Lady Amanda?"

"I assure you; this is the real me. Regardless of how irritated I am at the moment this is me!" She quickly thanked the waitress for her drink. "Now, I think we--"

"That we should eat together, I agree." Thomas rose and told the waitress he would be joining Amanda.

He slid into the booth, bumping into the shocked duchess. "I recommend the lobster frittata."

"I'm allergic to shellfish." She said in a stunned voice.

"Then I will order something else." He remarked. "I'll have the steak and eggs." He handed his menu to the waitress. "Shall we have a bottle of champagne with brunch?"

Amanda absentmindedly ordered the cheeseburger. Once they were alone, she settled back against the seat, intent on pretending she was dining alone.

"I'm considering taking time off once filming wraps up." Thomas announced.

"What about the sequels?" Amanda forgot about her plan to ignore him. "You aren't going to let someone else direct, are you?"

He shook his head, turning more toward her. "The screenplay for the second part hasn't been completed yet. Ryan and Chris both have obligations to other directors that they will complete in between the first and second part."

"I see." She tried to ease away from being so close beside him, but her skirt was caught under his leg. He apparently was not inclined to give up his hold on her.

"Amanda, have you been on any other tours?" He asked when she became stubbornly silent again.

"I have." She replied. Her smile held a hint of mischief. "Ryan took me to some points of interest."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "Did he?"

"Yes." She propped her chin on her hand, attempting to have a dreamy far off look. "He was a perfect gentleman."

"He's seeing someone." He informed her, wondering at this new irritation he felt.

Amanda shrugged. "Like I said, he was a perfect gentleman."

"I expect to hear news of his engagement at any moment." Thomas continued.

"Then perhaps you should be drinking champagne with him." She kept a pleasant smile on her face. "For you and I have nothing to celebrate over."

"I disagree." He countered.

"Of course, you do." She pointed at his shirt. "I would call this blue, but I'm positive you would say it was another color."

"I always thought it was more gray than blue." He said to purposefully needle her.

She ran her fingers through her hair. "Of course, you would."

Their food was brought out and each focused on eating while ignoring the emotions the other was causing.

He poured her a glass of champagne then lifted his in a toast. "To expectations."

She searched his eyes for some hidden meaning then tapped her glass to his. "Cheers."

"What are your plans today?" He asked.

She set her glass down. "I'm going to see a movie."

"Really?" He slowly smiled. "What will you be--"

"There you are!" Maxwell walked over, his dimples deepening with his delighted grin. "I must have forgotten we were to meet down here."

Amanda took that moment to jerk her skirt out from under Thomas' thigh. She smiled with her newfound freedom. "I was just on my way out." She wished them both a good afternoon and escaped.

"I knew you two would hit it off." Maxwell boasted.

"And when exactly is that supposed to happen?" Thomas asked.

************

A few nights later...

"Everyone knows the drill." Maxwell whispered.

"Yes." Hana reassured him. "I spill my drink on Amanda."

"I drop a plate in Thomas's lap." Addison whispered.

"They are both forced to go to the master bathroom because I have food poisoning in the hall bathroom." Riley added.

"I get everyone to move to our suite." Liam added.

"I turn everything off." Holly glanced over her shoulder to make certain no one was near enough to hear.

"And I lock them in the bedroom." Maxwell announced.

"What about the phone situation?" Ryan whispered.

"Bastien is confiscating everyone's phone for security purposes." Drake explained. "And I have already removed the hotel phones from the bedroom and living room."

"You all have your missions." Maxwell looked around at his group. "Good luck."

Addison and Hana nearly bounced with excitement as they took their places.

****************

Thomas sat down when Addison insisted yet again. "I still don't see how this helps the crick in your neck."

She rubbed the side while rolling her head. "Because it doesn’t hurt tilting it down, only up." She huffed. "You're too tall."

She eyed Hana and watched as the graceful lady stumbled, splashing her glass of wine down Amanda's dress.

"I'm so sorry!" Tears filled Hana's eyes. She grasped Amanda's hand and dragged her into the bedroom.

"I have something that will help get this out before it stains." Hana made Amanda remain in the bathroom. "It's in my room. I'll be right back."

Addison waited patiently, keeping Thomas talking. She then saw Hana give her the sign.

"...and then we should--" Thomas jumped to his feet when Addison dropped her plate.

"Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to."

He brushed her hand away and went toward the bathroom. He heard Riley's sounds of sickness and quickly backtracked.

"There's a bathroom in the bedroom." Maxwell pushed him toward it.

"Thank you." Thomas stepped inside and opened the bathroom door.

Amanda whirled around. "You startled me."

He glanced down at the red stain on her peach colored dress. "My apologies. We both seem to be the ones with accident prone friends tonight."

She wet a rag for him. His fingers brushed hers when he reached for it. Their eyes lifted to one another's.

Amanda looked away first. "You should take your jacket off first."

He shrugged out of it, thanking her when she offered to hold it for him. Thomas brushed at the different stains on his shirt and tie.

She did the same with his jacket.

The two worked quietly.

"Do you hear that?" She asked once the water was turned off.

He stilled. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly!" The two hurried to the bedroom door.

It wouldn't open.

Amanda knocked on it. "Maxwell! We're stuck in here!"

Thomas leaned his ear against it. "There's no noise out there."

"I'll call someone to--" she twirled around. "Where are the phones?"

They searched throughout the drawers and closets. Nothing except a pair of pajamas and a nightgown were in the drawers.

"What is going on?" Amanda wailed, slowly backing away.

"I think," Thomas began, recognizing his pajamas from home. "that Maxwell and the others want us to spend the night together."

**************

After changing their ruined clothes, the two sat down on the bed. It seemed that Maxwell had removed the chairs that had also resided there. He had also had the television removed.

"Now what do we do?" Amanda asked. "It's only eight thirty."

Thomas tried to keep from staring at her in her silk nightgown.

She guessed that Riley and Hana had taken it earlier that day when they kept having her try on dresses. His eyes traveled up her legs --

"Why don't we talk? Settle this...whatever this is between us?" He suggested as she stood up to pace.

Amanda quit her agitated movements and sat down in a breathless huff. She reclined on the pillows and attempted to not stare at how sexy Thomas looked in pajamas. That little bit of hair flopping over his forehead softened his angular features, making her want to run her fingers through his hair as his lips touched--

"I expected you to be different." Amanda began, lowering her eyes. "I think this might be as much my fault as yours."

Thomas stretched out beside her. "What do you mean about expecting me to be different?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "I guess I expected you to be nice." She grimaced. "I thought we would get along. Perhaps become friends or...something."

"I see." He said softly. "And I ruined that when you overheard, that I was expecting the worst."

"Yes, I mean," she dropped her head back on the pillow. "I was so disappointed that you were like so many people I have encountered at court. That you were so set on disliking me…I just thought why bother even trying to be nice."

“Ah.” He snorted softly. “And in my preconceived notions, I decided you had proven me right.”

“And now we are being tortured by our so-called friends.”

He turned his head toward her. "I don't feel tortured right now."

She turned too and realized how close their faces were. "You don't?"

He focused on her mouth. Perhaps he was being tortured. "No, I actually like being around you like this."

"So not hostile or hurling insults at you?" She teased.

He surprised her with a sudden smile. "If we must make that distinction, then yes, I prefer this version to any of the others I have encountered."

Her burst of laughter made him scoot closer to her.

“I must admit, it has been exhausting remaining angry around you.” Her warm smile was focused on him for the first time. “You sir, have kept me on my toes during every altercation.”

“You have been a worthy adversary.” Thomas chuckled when she solemnly thanked him. “I haven’t’ wanted to annoy any woman as much as I have you.”

The pair became quiet in thought after sharing another laugh.

Amanda turned on her side and studied his face. "Thomas?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you think we have been snapping at each other all this time?"

"You've been doing most of the snapping lately." He reminded her.

"I suppose I have." She admitted. "Why have you been chasing after me though since I have been, you know?"

"Cruel?" He offered. "Cold? Mean?"

"I get the picture." She grumbled. "I apologize for my rudeness."

"I told you once before I wasn't certain what it is about you, but I think I might have solved the mystery." He inched closer.

"And that is?" She asked.

"I think we have some unresolved sexual tension." Thomas waited to see what her response might be.

He didn't expect laughter.

"Hold on.” she said once she saw he was serious. "You find me attractive?"

"I did even when I despised you." He admitted.

Amanda blinked. "Oh."

He cleared his throat. When she still remained silent, he prodded her. "Any chance you find me attractive?"

"I do." Was her hurried response. "I mean, I always thought you were handsome."

"Being thought handsome is not the same as being attractive." He reminded her. "Do you find Liam handsome?"

"Of course, I do." She sighed, knowing where he was going with this. "And no, I am not physically attracted to Liam."

Thomas gently placed his hand over hers. "Then, should we use this time to test out the waters? See if the fights can cease once and for all after we discover what this is?”

Amanda slowly nodded. Before she could think too hard about all the ways this could backfire, he had pulled her flush to him. Her breath caught as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

His fingertips slipped down her neck and over her shoulder, sliding down before coming back up. She closed her eyes as he caressed her skin. His eyes followed his hand before flickering up to her parted lips. He closed the distance and placed a tentative kiss to them.

And then they knew why they had been fighting so much.

**************

The next morning…

“There’s no noise.” Maxwell whispered. He had his ear pressed to the bedroom door.

“Either they are asleep, or they killed each other.” Olivia hissed. “I’m hoping he is at least bleeding out in there.” She smacked Maxwell on the back of the head. “Why did you persist in putting them together?”

“Because I know what I’m doing as a matchmaker.” He grumbled. “If you would only listen to me about you and Dra—“

She put her hand over his mouth. “I’m warning you, Maxwell. Do not ever link my name with his again.”

Addison pushed between them and pressed her ear to the door. “I say we leave their clothes here and quietly unlock the bedroom door. “I don’t want to walk in on something I shouldn’t see.”

“Good idea.” Maxwell carefully removed the chair he had wedged under the doorknob. He then unlocked the door and jumped back in case one decided to open it.

As his coconspirators sneaked out of the room, he quickly jotted down an apology in case he had been wrong and slipped it under the bedroom door.

Just as he was about to leave, the note was slipped back with a response written.

You better book another suite for yourself. This one is ours now.

Thanks for locking us in together,

A & T

#choices september challenge #choices stories you play #choices thomas hunt #Thomas Hunt #thomas hunt x amanda #thomas hunt x oc #choices red carpet diaries #choices the royal romance #trr maxwell #trr olivia #rcd addison #rcd thomas hunt

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for-the-exiled · 4 years

Text

Nightmares

Pairing: ChellDOS Word Count: 2,086 One-shot with plans for a continuation.

[Read on AO3 if you prefer]

“Chell has always struggled with sleep. The only times she gets any, it's plagued with nightmares. But now she's stuck thousands of meters below the Aperture she once knew with no adrenal vapor to keep her conscious.”

-- My first time writing a finished fic for Portal. Hopefully everything was in character. Not much romance in this one but it’s baby steps to a future one, hence why I’m planning on making a sequel. --

Sleep was a strange thing for Chell. She rarely slept if ever in the past due to the adrenal vapor GLaDOS pumped into the chambers. But now Chell was stuck thousands of meters below the enrichment center that had once held her captive. And now GLaDOS had no control over anything. The once ruler of Aperture was now confined to a potato, and had been carried off by a bird right as Chell woke from unconsciousness.

The fall had taken a lot out of Chell, even knocking her out, but she still found herself fit enough after waking to move. She didn’t have a dream, and assumed she had only been out a short while. But still, she felt unease from being out. The only other times in recent memory that she had gone unconscious had been against her will, and she had once vivid nightmares during them that had luckily faded over time. Those nightmares, however, made her hesitant to sleep.

Chell felt her muscles scream with ache as she travelled through the wreckage she had been plunged into. But her body wasn’t all against her. Being knocked out from the fall had given her enough rest to stay awake and move through her surroundings. To analyze them. And the test subject did not trust whatever may lie down here. Whatever she was walking into felt more dangerous than the facility above, which was saying a lot.

And Chell’s fears were confirmed when she had stumbled into an area with an automated message from someone named Cave Johnson, the old CEO of Aperture, and small inserts from his assistant, Caroline. She was still in Aperture, and she would still be testing. Fighting back any distress this reveal could cause, Chell continued on, blocking out the messages to focus on escape. She placed portals on a mix of instinct and knowledge to get herself through. If this was the bottom, the tests could bring her back up. Up to freedom. For once, the tests wouldn’t be a trap, but a means of escape.

Chell could feel her energy had already been drained as she made her way to the first elevator. In the back of her mind, part of her was screaming to sleep. But the fear of nightmares and whatever may lay down here kept her from giving in. And testing with the addition of repulsion gel kept her mind awake with the new stimuli. She had gotten through each sphere with ease, and felt relieved to find out she only had to deal with three of them. At this rate, it wouldn’t take long to get back to the surface. And if Chell was lucky, Wheatley would’ve left the adrenal vapor on, eliminating the need to sleep. All she needed to do was to carry on and navigate the strange ruins of old Aperture.

But she wasn’t nearly as lucky as she had thought. Making her way to the beginning of the next set of spheres, she could feel the effects of sleep deprivation weighing her down. If she hadn’t been moving still, trying to keep up speed, she would’ve slipped into slumber the moment she walked in and saw the catwalk to the next elevator had been destroyed. For once, Chell let her calm facade down and scrunched her face in displeasure, groaning inwardly. ’Of course it wouldn’t be easy, nothing’s ever easy in Aperture.’

Just as she was about to give in to the need of sleep, she noticed on top of the building she had just searched was a control room. With any luck, it would contain a way to get over to the elevator. The test subject made her way to the opening, placing portals that would fling her there with just enough momentum. It seemed lit up, giving Chell hope there would be a button or lever of some sorts inside. But as she walked in, she heard an uncomfortably familiar voice which woke her with anxiety.

“Oh. Hi.” GLaDOS.

Chell scowled inwardly as she noticed the AI, now confined to a potato battery which was currently being feasted upon by a bird.

“Say, you're good at murder. Could you - ow - murder this bird for me?” Chell just watched with unwavering neutrality. She wouldn’t even give the machine the satisfaction of her disgust. But below that, Chell couldn’t deny she felt a little sorry for GLaDOS. And each ‘ow’ the once powerful being let out made her feel more and more sympathy.

“No, wait. Just kill it and we'll call things even between us. No hard feelings.” GLaDOS sounded desperate, but Chell just stood there, arms crossed and watching the potato, not letting any sympathy she was starting to feel show. Maybe this could teach the once powerful being some humility.

“Please get it off me. It's eating me.” Chell could hear the fear in GLaDOS’s voice, and it made her crack. Some of Chell’s sympathy seeped into her expression as she walked into the room, shooing off the black bird that had been pecking at the potato.

“Oh! Thanks.” Chell started to give a half hidden smile, accepting GLaDOS’s thanks. But before she could do so fully, the area around them shook. An explosion sounded in the distance.

“Did you feel that? That idiot doesn't know what he's doing up there. This whole place is going to explode in a few hours if somebody doesn't disconnect him.” Chell nodded lightly, letting GLaDOS know she was listening. “I can't move. And unless you're planning to saw your own head off and wedge it into my old body, you're going to need me to replace him. We're at an impasse. So what do you say? You carry me up to him and put me back into my body, and I stop us from blowing up and let you go.”

GLaDOS began to drone on, trying to convince Chell to pick her up, but it wasn’t needed. Without paying attention to the machine’s words, the woman picked the potato up and stuck it onto the end of the portal device.

“OW! You stabbed me! What is WRONG with yo-WoOOAAahhh. Hold on. Do you have a multimeter?” Chell just glanced at the potato, making her way back to the remaining portion of catwalk. “Nevermind. The gun must be part magnesium... It feels like I'm outputting an extra half a volt. Keep an eye on me: I'm going to do some scheming. Here I g-” GLaDOS’s voice distorted, before she shut down. ‘Good, some more silence before being thrown back into hell.’ Chell thought to herself. Reuniting with GLaDOS had given her a small burst of energy, but Chell could feel it draining fast. It hadn’t been enough and Chell found her mind fogging. She needed something to pay attention to or she would pass out and harm herself in the process. Chell stumbled, almost close to falling off the catwalk too early, when she heard GLaDOS return.

“Woah! Where are we? How long have I been out?” Chell’s thoughts returned to the present as her eyes opened more and landed on GLaDOS. “That extra half volt helps but it isn't going to power miracles.” Chell nodded to herself, keeping awake long enough to fling herself onto the bit of remaining catwalk in front of the elevator.

“If I think too hard, I'm going to fry this potato before we get a chance to burn up in the atomic fireball that little idiot is going-” GLaDOS’s voice cut again, right as Chell was entering the lift to the next sphere. Once the sphere plunged into the darkness, Chell sat down and gave into the fatigue. She shut her eyes and rested the best she could during the brief ascent, but never truly slipped into unconsciousness. The woman let herself rest even after the elevator came to a stop, but jumped at the sound of talking.

“Did anything happen while I was out?” Chell glanced at where she had left the portal gun on the floor of the elevator, GLaDOS was positioned so she could see the test subject.

“Are you okay?” Her words made Chell shiver. GLaDOS sounded genuinely concerned, which threw the already exhausted woman off. “Look, we don’t have much time. If you’re not going to voice what’s wrong let’s please get moving.” Chell nodded and picked up the portal gun, making her way to the next test.

As the pair moved through the test, GLaDOS had an odd reaction to Cave Johnson’s messages. She spoke one of Caroline’s interjections perfectly in time with the long-gone woman and had even knocked herself out from how worked up she had gotten herself.

Chell, however, tried to pay no mind to this and get out of the test as fast as she could. She could already feel herself beginning to pass out, her movements had slowed and she nearly plunged herself into the abyss of sludge that flooded the bottom of the testing sphere. Chell took a second to get her bearings and flung herself forward with some cleverly placed gel and portals to press a button, opening the exit.

“Okay. I guess emotional outbursts require more than one point six volts. Now we know that. We just need to relax. We're still going to find out what the hell's going on here. But calmly.” Chell blinked her agreement, and walked slowly on the catwalk, her body shaking with each step.

“Do you have any clue on h-” Chell didn’t hear anything else GLaDOS said as she slipped to the floor of the catwalk, half out of it. Her mind fogged and she couldn’t sense anything for a few moments. ‘Am I finally dying? Is this it?’ Chell pondered inwardly as she felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness. She eventually found herself blacking out fully, only to be reawoken a couple of moments later.

“Chell..? Chell?” The woman let out a gasp of fear at hearing her name being said. Nobody had done so in many, many years. And it was GLaDOS who was saying it, the one being she never would have imagined saying her name. Especially not with such fear. At the time, Chell chalked it up to GLaDOS fearing she would never make it back up, back to her body, and she was half true. But there was another factor to the fear, one Chell would not find out for a while, and one that GLaDOS would never fully voice.

“Oh thank god you’re alive. If you’re exhausted or injured we can’t safely continue, you know. I understand you’re mute but you should voice that somehow.” Chell gave a weak smile to the potato and shrugged gingerly. Her whole body was sore and what little energy she had gained from passing out was fading fast.

“Seriously. You should rest. There has to be an open office somewhere here, slip into it and just lie down for a few.” Chell gave GLaDOS a slow blink and got up carefully. Thankfully, the AI had been right and Chell could see an opening to an office from where she had laid. With two portals, she found herself in a decently sized room. Enough uncluttered and sturdy floorspace to take a comfortable nap. Chell walked around the room, looking for where she felt it best to rest, fighting back any rising fear she felt at the mere idea of sleeping.

“Those people, in the portrait.” Chell turned around to face a huge painting. It featured Cave Johnson and a woman Chell assumed to be Caroline. “They look so familiar…” And it all clicked for Chell. GLaDOS had yet to realize why the people were familiar, but Chell understood. And for the first time, she gave GLaDOS a brief look of pure sympathy.

Chell chose her resting spot to be under the painting. She laid on her side, back to the wall, and held the portal gun close to her, it positioned intentionally so GLaDOS lay close to her cheek. As Chell submitted herself to sleep, she felt an intense fear. She didn’t want to have nightmares, but she had no choice. If she wanted to live, she would have to take this moment to rest.

Chell could feel the world around her fading as she slipped into unconsciousness. But despite it all, there was one thing she could hear clearly. A voice that was barely a whisper.

“Goodnight, Chell.”

And for the first time in too long, Chell had no nightmare.

#chell #glados #oneshot #chelldos #fanfic #portal #portal 2

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everlarkficexchange · 5 years

Text

Better Tomorrow

Part Two

Written by: @mega-aulover

Prompt 78: forced to share a bed and building a pillow barrier but still waking up tangled together. [submitted by anonymous]

Continuation of March 28th Birthday Prompt for @thestuckinbed Read Part 1 Here . Special thanks to my friend and Beta @norbertsmom for editing this monster and inspiring me. Also thanks to the ladies of EverlarkFicExchange for hosting this event and for extending it a week.

RATED M, (Mature Subjects, Violence & Sexy Everlark Times)

“What’s going on?” Gale said from behind.

“I’m getting married to Peeta,” Katniss said softly not removing her eyes from Peeta’s face. She liked the way his face filled with color. He looked cute.

“What?” Gale sputtered.

“Tomorrow, I’ll meet you at the Justice Building.”

“Tomorrow it is,” Katniss agreed. Tomorrow she was getting married to her boy with the bread.

“No,” Gale sputtered. “No you’re supposed to marry ME!”

“Gale, it’s over, I’ve made my choice,” Katniss tried to diffuse the situation, but it was no use. Gale threw down the contents he carried and lunged at Peeta.

“PEETA WATCH OUT!” Katniss shouted.

Peeta was skilled at defending himself. He was a champion wrestler in school and had two older brothers that picked on him as a kid. He easily deflected Gale’s attempts to tackle him. “Gale I don’t want to fight!”

“You stole my woman!” Gale lunged at Peeta once more.

“Gale, Katniss is her own woman.” Peeta gave her a brief glance, right before he avoided Gale rushing at him. “She makes her own decisions and she doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Screw you, you ugly moron,” Gale shouted, “You bastard!”

“Gale stop, this is useless,” Katniss pleaded. Gale was a hothead and shouting profanities at Peeta didn’t help his cause with Katniss. He was acting like an idiot. “Peeta and I are getting married in the morning.” Katniss tried to get in the way but Gale pushed her to the ground.

“Katniss,” Peeta ran to her. “Are you okay?” He cupped her cheek, his eyes searched her face.

“I’m okay.”

“You’ve got a scrape on your face.” Peeta gently helped her get up.

As she stood Katniss saw Gale was heading for Peeta. “Peeta, behind you…”

The warmth left Peeta’s eyes when he turned to face Gale. His jaw tensed, his amiability was replaced by a cold menacing look. Katniss was sure seeing the way Gale carelessly shoved her, caused Peeta to snap. It was then the fight began in earnest.

Peeta tackled Gale to the ground, they rolled around punching the other. Both ended up in the street. Gale was a tall brute and often used his anger to win fights. Peeta wasn’t as tall but he had more mass and experience. By now half the district surrounded them. Mrs. Mellark watched from the bakery. Her face pressed up against the window.

Peeta had Gale in a headlock when Darius turned up. By then half the town was outside, each with the knowledge the fight started over the upcoming marriage.

“Okay you break it up,” Darius said, pulling Peeta off Gale.

“It’s not fair, that Merchant stole MY girl,” Gale cried as he was pulled away.

Gale’s declaration made Katniss mad, she’d never been his girl.

“This is over a girl,” Darius said incredulously.

“Katniss and I are getting married in the morning. Gale overheard our conversation. Instead of being happy for his friend he attacked me. I tried not to fight but Gale pushed Katniss on the ground,” Peeta said wiping his mouth.

All eyes turned to Katniss who touched her cheek to try to cover up the scar and bruising that was no doubt coloring her face.

“Hot stuff,” Darius glanced at her face, “You want to press charges?”

“No, let him go home to his mother.” Katniss sighed.

“Peeta stay out of trouble,” Darius said. Turning to Gale, he added, “You let’s go, your mother is going to bust a gasket when she learns you got into another fight.” Darius led Gale away and Katniss was relieved.

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED!” Peeta’s father’s smile was wider than the man on the moon.

“Yes dad, Katniss and I are going to get married at the Justice Building in the morning.”

“Eileen, did you hear Peeta’s getting hitched in the morning!” Mr. Mellark shouted to his wife, who looked like she’d eaten something sour. His exuberance caused a few in the gathered crowd to chuckle.

Mr. Mellark boasted, “EVERYONE GET YOUR BREAD TODAY. IN HONOR OF MY SON’S WEDDING, THE BAKERY WILL BE CLOSED TOMORROW!!”

Peeta pulled Katniss to the side, “You okay with this, everyone knowing.”

Katniss glanced at the ground, lost for words. What should have been a private affair turned into a public spectacle, and all because of Gale. The only thing she could think of saying was, “I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

“Okay, I’ll have to go down to the Justice Building now and make the appointment, I’ll try for 9 or 10 am is that okay? Will that give you enough time to get ready?”

“I guess so.” Katniss thought for a second about what she would wear. Renting a dress was unnecessary since they weren’t going to have a Toasting. Maybe she’ll take a bath and wear the light blue dress she was supposed to wear at the 74th Hunger Games Reaping. It was so nice to know she would never have to dress up for another Reaping again.

“Okay, I’ll send word, so that you know the time.”

Katniss nodded and began to walk away.

“Oh, Katniss,” Peeta called.

She turned around.

“Thank you.”

Katniss smiled, glad that she had helped her boy with the bread. The news had spread across the Seam by the time she arrived home. Prim and her mother were waiting for her. They were both excited, whispering and giggling into the night. They became even more secretive when Mr. Mellark stopped by with bread to inform them Katniss was to be at the Justice Building by 10A.M.

When it was time for bed, her mother was called for an emergency. Katniss was with her sister in their bedroom.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Primrose said. Her sister was laying on her belly on the other bed, she had her chin propped up by her hands, and her feet were slowly waving back and forth like Buttercup’s tail. Her baby sister looked like their mother, blonde blue eyed. At fourteen she was already taller than Katniss. Without the Games, her sister no longer lived in fear. The only thing her sister had to do was eat and dream of a better tomorrow.

Katniss brushed her hair calmly. By now the entire district knew of her pending nuptials in the morning. Gale had caused such a ruckus because of her deal with Peeta.

“I can’t believe Gale tried to punch your future husband,” Prim said with a far off dreamy look. “It’s so romantic being fought over.”

“Prim,” Katniss said. She put the brush down. She wanted to dispel those archaic notions from her baby sister’s head. “Gale and Peeta’s fight today was not romantic. It was dangerous and foolish, either one of them could have gotten hurt or could have been thrown in jail for disturbing the peace. Fighting is never the answer.”

“But Gale had it coming to him! For years I’ve seen him hound you mercilessly about getting married. I know you, you don’t have an inkling of romance toward him because if you did you’d be like the other simpering females in the district. They always sigh and get googly eyed whenever Gale walks by.” Prim made a face like she’d eaten something foul. “I don’t get why all of my friends dream about kissing him.”

Katniss grimaced as she conjured up Gale’s image in her head. She was repulsed by the idea of being anything more to Gale then his hunting partner. She would rather have a skunk spray her than kiss Gale.

“So,” Prim said moving from one bed to the other. “I want to know how is it that you and Peeta agreed to get married? And how did Gale find out about it? I need details.”

Katniss gave her sister a look to drop the subject.

“Katniss, we don’t have secrets, spill!”

Honestly Katniss didn’t know how to tell her sister that the marriage was arranged and there was nothing romantic or passionate about the proposal. It was a simple agreement made between two consenting adults. As far as Katniss was concerned Peeta was now able to keep the bakery and she would get Gale off her back. It was a win-win for both parties. Katniss would never again listen to Gale nag her about getting hitched. Prim was another problem altogether. Her sister was just as stubborn and persistent as Katniss.

Her sister pounced on top of her, stopping Katniss from moving. Prim was surprisingly heavy. “Come on Katniss, you have to tell me how it happend, how did you agree to get married? You’ve always claimed you never wanted marriage or children, so for you to want to get married to a merchant of all people, the son of the worst person in all of District Twelve is pretty mind blowing!”

“Prim, Peeta and I came to an arrangement,” Katniss hesitantly said. She wasn’t sure how she was going to put it into words what happened since she was bad at talking. Taking a steady breath she said, “I wanted to repay a debt. So I asked him to marry me with the understanding there would be no Toasting.”

“Wait,” Prim said sitting on the bed. She scrunched her nose as she puzzled over what Katniss said to her. “You asked him to marry you because of a debt?”

Katniss nodded suddenly feeling less sure about her decision today.

Her sister, gave her the legendary Everdeen intimidation scowl. “You made the suggestion?”

Katniss had never been able to keep a secret or tell a lie. She blurted out, “I overheard about his predicament from Darius and Greasy Sae. His mother wouldn’t agree to let Peeta have the bakery unless he married. Honestly I don’t even know if it’s true now that I think about it. It could have just been Darius and Greasy Sae gossiping about nonsense.”

“It’s not hearsay Katniss. I heard his mother tried to get Peeta to marry several girls, but he refused,” Prim interjected.

“You knew about this?” Katniss couldn’t believe her ears. How did her sister know about Peeta’s predicament? She sat back, now it was her turn to scowl.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Prim crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s been happening for months. Peeta’s problems began the moment he graduated and his father announced he wanted to pass the bakery off to Peeta. Mr. Mellark didn’t want to to give the bakery to River because of his drinking problem and the oldest, Carlton is happily married and likes working with his wife’s family. He didn’t want the bakery.”

“Really?” Katniss was taken aback by the news, she was in awe that her sister knew all of this information, while she was oblivious. “How do you know all of this?”

“Vick Hawthorne is Phill Cartwright’s best friend. Phill and Vick are mentors in the Young Engineers of Tomorrow Scholastic Program.” Prim shrugged. “Phill said they were celebrating both Peeta’s and Delly’s graduation when it all happened. Mrs. Mellark invited Tilia Cordata and her parents with the expressed purpose of arranging a marriage. When Peeta found out he became upset and told his mother he didn’t want to marry. He asserted he was the best baker and that if need be he would name Colton’s first born his heir.”

Until she had overheard the conversation at the Hob Katniss had no idea this was going on. She felt bad for Peeta, being forced to get married was barbaric. She identified with him and his struggle. “I’m sure that didn’t go well.”

“Mrs. Mellark got into a terrible fight with Peeta over his refusal. The argument could be heard from the street. During that row Mrs. Mellark declared that if Peeta didn’t marry then he wouldn’t inherit the bakery when they retired at the end of the year. It would be handed to River. And since Mr. Mellark has never stood up against his wife, he agreed Peeta needed to get married.”

“Huh,” Katniss mouthed. “What else do you know?”

“There’s been a succession of girls that his mother has tried to unsuccessfully pair him up with, Flori Crabapple, Myrtle Carpe, Amy Yellowwood, Honey Locust to name a few. His mother even got Mabel Meadows to come to dinner at the bakery one evening. Peeta said no to all of them. Until he said yes to you the entire district thought Peeta would never marry.”

Katniss scratched her head going over the conversation. Why would Peeta say no to Mabel Meadows, she had a very nice dowry. Her father owned the town grocers where all of the Peacekeepers purchased their goods. She was well off and she was one of the most beautiful girls in the entire district.

“Why would Peeta not want to marry any of those girls?” Katniss pondered out loud. Why would he agree to marry her. She wasn’t the prettiest girl, nor was she rich. Beyond her hunting skills she a wasn’t good candidate for marriage to anyone. Maybe Katniss thought it was because she didn’t want to have a Toasting with him. In District Twelve a couple wasn’t really married until they had a Toasting ceremony, no matter what the documents given at the Justice Building said. The exchange of toasted bread between a couple was the traditional binding legal way in Twelve, one recognized by the new government, and Katniss figured that’s why Peeta agreed.

Katniss picked up her brush after braiding her hair, getting ready to go to sleep. She got up and put the brush on the dresser.

Prim climbed into the other bed, and turned to face Katniss. “I have one question though, if you’re marriage is arranged and you’re not doing a Toasting what are you going to do about sex?”

At the word sex, Katniss stubbed her toe on the bed, “Ouch!”

“You okay,” Prim was out of bed and was trying to grab her toe to examine it.

“Yeah,” Katniss said jumping around.

“Stop jumping around and let me take a look,” Prim grabbed Katniss foot and Katniss fell onto the bed. “It doesn’t look bruised, but you should put some of mom’s healing balm on it,” Prim said reaching into her draw for it. “So what are you going to do about sex?”

“Prim!” Katniss hissed not at the balm but at that word again.

“What,” Prim said looking up. Her stare reminded Katniss of Buttercup’s superior look whenever the stinker knew he was being pampered. “Are you embarrassed by the word or the act?”

Katniss was sure she was bright red. Her jaw stung from the rush of warmth to her cheeks.

“Seriously Katniss, you have to be realistic. Sex is a natural part of life. Mother and I counsel every newly wed girl that crosses our door about intimate marital relations. It’s important for women to know of their options.”

Katniss didn’t want to have ‘this’ conversation with her sister. Nor did she want to hear those words coming out of Prim’s mouth. Her sister kept on talking and there was nowhere Katniss could run off to.

“Legally you’ll be married, but because you’re opting out of a Toasting you have to face the fact that Peeta is a man, and he’s going to want sex. Now before you get all I’m not having children, there a hundred ways to not get pregnant when the time comes. However, if he doesn’t have sex with you then he’s going to engage with someone else. Are you prepared to share him with another partner?” Prim finished applying the balm.

Everything her sister said was like the cold slap of a wintry breeze upon her face. With frightened eyes Katniss watched her sister put the bottle back in the dresser and climb back into bed without considering the state she left her. Her sister turned down the oil lamp in the room and Katniss was plunged into darkness. Within seconds her sister was fast asleep.

The conversation kept Katniss awake. She lay in bed thinking about sex. Katniss understood the function of it, but she’d never gave mind to the act. Up until she was fifteen she’d been preoccupied with surviving the Reaping. After the President died, Katniss sole responsibility was to feed her family and graduating school. Boys and relationships didn’t enter her frame of existence until a few moments ago when her fourteen year old sister brought it up. In fact the only guy in her inner circle was Gale and Katniss could not imagine him touching her.

She wasn’t the type of girl for public displays of affection. She just didn’t like to be touched. Katniss didn’t even like hugs from her mother.

Her thoughts turned to Peeta. Asking Peeta to marry her was a rash decision. She really didn’t think about the other stuff Prim brought up. She never thought about marital relations between herself and Peeta. The idea itself wasn’t repulsive. She didn’t mind the way he smelled. From her observations throughout the years she found Peeta’s kind ways appealing, plus she favored the way he looked. Katniss enjoyed looking at him, watching him speak, even his voice was pleasant, it was mellow but masculine.

She pictured what it would be like to hold his hand and she felt a rush of warmth to her cheeks. She was tingly all over, much the way she felt that one time she shot a buck all by herself.

Would Peeta mind holding her hand? Katniss sat up in her bed and crept to the basin of water. It was a warm night, she splashed her cheeks with water. Her mind churned with thoughts and questions. What if what Prim said was right? Katniss asked herself. What if Peeta didn’t favor her, what if he wanted relations with others?

Katniss turned around in her bed, punching the pillow. The idea of Peeta sharing another person’s bed did not sit well with her. There were things that needed to be discussed and as much as Katniss hated to talk, she was going to have an honest conversation with Peeta. She decided to sneak out early.

In the morning her plan to go see and speak to Peeta was thwarted by the rush of getting ready for the wedding. Her mother pulled out a white dress from her Merchant days. It had ruffled cap sleeves, scoop neckline, was gathered at the waist and trumpeted outward at the hem. It’s hemline was shorter in the front reaching past Katniss knees but the back was longer falling to her mid-calf. Her mother even had crinoline to put underneath her dress. Katniss’ hair was braided and pinned up in a crown around her head. Prim went to the herb garden and picked small flowers and wove them into her hair. Katniss didn’t even recognize herself in the mirror once her mother and sister were finished with her.

“This was the dress my family had made for me when I was supposed to get married to Peeta’s father, Lionel.” Her mother smiled over her shoulder in the mirror.

“You were engaged to Mr. Mellark?”

“Yes and I chose your father. It was a shock to the entire district that I chose to be with a miner, from the Seam.” Her mother chuckled, then her face became serious, “I did what was best for me, and you Katniss have to do what is best for you. Especially when dealing with Eileen.”

Katniss nodded.

“My advice to you is always keep Peeta in the loop about what’s going on in your head, especially when Eileen does something spiteful. Communication is the cornerstone of any relationship.” Her mother squeezed her shoulders.

Katniss didn’t have time to process the information as it was time to leave. When they opened the door there was Gale, Gale was standing there.

“I’m asking you once more,” Gale ran his hands through his hair, “to reconsider. He’s a Merchant Katniss, one of them!”

“Gale my mother is a Merchant,” Katniss pointed out. She was angered that Gale wouldn’t take the hint. Why couldn’t he accept the fact that she didn’t want him, they were too alike.

Gale glanced over her shoulder to her mother who stood just feet away. “I…”

“Which makes me a half-breed.” Biting back her anger she said, “Goodbye Gale.”

Katniss walked by him with her mother and sister right behind.

“Good for you,” her mother whispered.

“Gah,” Prim said, “Why does he smell so funny?”

Katniss began to laugh. She’d always thought the same thing. They passed a few people on the road who greeted them and wished her well. Others simply stared at her, because she never wore a dress or looked so clean. Katniss always looked like she’d rolled around in dirt for fun. Climbing trees to make a shot had its perils and one of them was getting dirty.

When they arrived at the Justice Building the Mellarks were waiting for them outside.

“Maggie,” Mr. Mellark greeted, “Primrose, and my dear Katniss.” His mood was jovial.

Mrs. Mellark rolled her eyes and gave them a curt nod.

River Mellark was dressed smartly and oddly did not appeared to be drunk, he and Haymitch Abernathy the old Victor were known as the town drunks. “Ladies.”

“Lionel, how are you?” her mother greeted.

“Peeta is inside no doubt wearing a hole in the floor.” Mr. Mellark clapped his hands.

They walked up the stairs and made their way into the building. All around Katniss everyone was speaking in excited tones except for Peeta’s mother. She mutely walked behind everyone. Katniss didn’t want to think about Prim’s conversation or the fact that Peeta’s mother was probably shooting daggers at her back. The woman was probably upset to have lost the control of the bakery. Her demand was that Peeta had to get married. She never stipulated that he had to marry a merchant girl. Katniss tried not to pay attention to the old witch, as long as Peeta’s mother kept her mouth shut everything would be fine. Her concentration was on signing the papers so that Peeta could become the new owner of the bakery. Once that happened Gale would surely disappear from her life.

She came around the corner and there was Peeta dressed in his best suit. He looked nervous. The moment their eyes met he smiled and it caused her to smile back. He looked wonderful, like one of those posters they used to use for the Hunger Games where they depicted a good looking strong young man filled with youth and vigor. Peeta walked toward her and her heart skipped a beat.

“Shall we?” Peeta held his hand out to her.

For some reason her knees shook and Katniss reminded herself this was all her idea. She forced her shaky hand to reach for his and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze to reassure her. Taking a deep breath she took her first step toward him and allowed herself to follow him into the room where the officiant was performing weddings. There were five couples ahead of them. Each ceremony took twenty minutes.

When it was their turn, Katniss’ nerves got the better of her and her mind went blank. The only thing that kept her anchored to the room was the man standing beside her. His voice was the only voice that she heard. He gave her hand another gentle squeezed when she needed to speak and put his arms around her to comfort her when they were signing the papers.

“You’re doing great,” Peeta whispered in her ear as she signed the last document.

Katniss glanced up at him and he gave her a reassuring smile. Peeta signed right next to her. And with that they were married according to the laws of Panem. But until the toasting took place the marriage wasn’t considered legal before the eyes of the district. This thought caused Katniss to have more anxiety.

“Congratulations!” Primrose tackled her from behind, and Katniss jumped. Prim was the only person who had the ability to surprise her. She behaved so much like her darned cat Katniss was surprised her sister didn’t purr at times.

“Thanks Prim.”

“Just remember to speak to Peeta about you know what.” Prim smiled like the cat who stole the cream as she turned to Peeta.

Katniss was sure everyone could see how flushed she looked because she could feel the warmth rushing to her cheeks.

“Please call me Lionel, now that we’re family!” Mr. Mellark said enveloping her in a big bear hug.

“Okay, dad let go of Katniss before you suffocate her,” Peeta came to her rescue.

Katniss gave her father-in-law a nervous smile, she wasn’t sure she could ever call him anything but Mr. Mellark.

“We should get going, there is a feast to be had!” Mr. Mellark said.

The entire party left the Justice building and walked toward the bakery where Peeta’s older brother Carlton waited with his wife. The Cartwrights waited for them as well as Madge. At the bequest of her mother the Hawthornes were present. Gale was sulking in the background, like a sullen black rain cloud.

With all of their family and friends gathered in the backyard of the bakery Katniss didn’t know how they were going to get through the rest of the day without a Toasting. The stress of it all was the equivalent to her hauling a stag all by herself, an adult male deer could weigh between 120 pounds to 330 pounds.

There was a feast with squirrel stew, roasted rabbitts, medlies of garden vegetables, honied roasted carrots, potatoes made three ways, mashed, baked, and boiled, fresh bread, and a beautiful cake decorated like a meadow. Each family brought something to eat. Everyone began serving heaps of food onto their plates.

Katniss couldn’t eat, she wanted to find time to speak to Peeta alone. She never got the opportunity because she was constantly whisked away, because the Mellark’s neighbors came by to bid Peeta and her well wishes. Peeta marrying a girl from the Seam wasn’t why they came to the wedding reception. Many were familiar with her as they bought or traded for her fresh game. It was the curiosity of seeing Peeta married that made them come.

“Peeta.” Katniss was finally sitting next to him, a plate of food before her. She couldn’t find enjoyment in the meal. She was pushing the food around on her plate.

“What’s wrong?” Peeta said.

“They’re all expecting a Toasting,” she whispered.

“It’s okay I’ve got this covered.”

“You do?” Katniss eyes searched the gathered crowd. The only one who wasn’t participating was Gale. He was sitting next to Delly Cartwright who was chirping away.

Peeta put his hand over her’s and once more for the hundredth time he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“We’re a team, allies, right?”

Katniss breathed easier. He was right, they were a team. Although she proposed this crazy scheme, he agreed to it and was making it happen. She relaxed and began to eat and enjoy herself.

As the meal was finishing Peeta stood up and addressed everyone, “I know it’s a custom for the bride and groom to have a Toasting on their wedding day. However among the Merchants its a custom to wait a month for the Toasting to allow the couple to get acquainted and to test if the marriage is a good match. Katniss and I have made this agreement.”

Katniss saw Gale perk up. He was staring straight at her. Katniss instead looked at her sister. Prim’s face wasn’t all too happy, she was scowling. Katniss glanced at her mother who looked stoic. In fact as she glanced around the only other person who looked okay with Peeta’s announcement was his mother.

Katniss stood up knowing she had to do something to distract the crowd. Standing on tiptoes she braced her hands against his chest and place the kiss on his lips. It was her first kiss and she didn’t know what to expect. She’d heard rumors about how wondrous kisses were. Katniss didn’t expect for currents of electricity to run throughout her body and make her feel as if she was on fire. She was dazed and her knees gave out at the simple peck on the lips. Peeta’s arms were there to catch her.

The simple kiss had the desired effect, everybody was standing and cheering. She looked at Peeta whose face was bright red and Katniss was sure hers was in the same condition. Her cheeks stung from heat that raced to her face.

That night after the meal, the dancing, and the subsequent cleanup, Prim pulled Katniss aside. “You’ve got to talk to him, you have to ask him questions.”

“Prim we’re going to be okay.” Katniss thought about how she and Peeta were a team. It reassured her they could overcome any obstacles.

“Look, you’re my sister and the same way you’ve been looking out for me all of my life, I have to look out for you too.” Prim’s face was serious.

“What’s wrong Prim?”

“Tonight I heard a few rumors.” Prim took a big breath then said, “The only reason he said yes to you , a girl from the Seam, was to get back at his mother. Everyone knows Mrs. Mellark doesn’t like Seam Folk. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

It was true Peeta’s mother did not like people from the Seam, she treated them poorly, and made them come to the back of the bakery to trade.

“Even if this is an agreement between you two, if you want this to work out, you need to have a serious conversation with him and it has to happen before the 30 days are over.” Prim sighed heavily. “And just be careful of Gale. Peeta’s announcement made him perk up like Buttercup when he sees a mouse.”

Katniss was back to feeling all out if sorts as she watched her sister leave.

“Hey, stop frowning, it’s your wedding day,” Peeta said, coming to stand beside her.

Katniss took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. The smell of fresh bread, dill, and cinnamon calmed her down.

“Okay son,” Mr. Mellark said interrupting them. “The place is all yours. Your mother and I applied for housing when you graduated. We picked up our keys this morning, and while you came down here to finish the paperwork Carlton helped us move into the new house. We have a nice little cottage near the edge of town. Your brother River elected to convert a small shed at the back of the house into his living quarters. I’ve told your mother she is not to set foot in the bakery. I would like to continue to work in the bakery on a part time basis, if that is okay with you?”

Peeta took the keys, his eyes watered. “I think that could work.”

“Thank you, I just need to be able to get out of the house.” Mr. Mellark cleared his throat. “River decided he wants to continue to work there until he find something else for himself.”

Katniss stood to the side half listening to the conversation between Peeta and his father.

“That’s great you guys can show Katniss the ropes when I do not have time,” Peeta said.

“I’m proud of you son, for holding out for what you want. It’s not easy standing up for yourself, not willing to become a part in her game. Your mother is a force to be reckoned with. You’ve set a precedence for Mellark men, son.” Mr. Mellark dragged Peeta into a bear hug.

While Peeta and his father hugged Mrs. Mellark slithered next to her. “My son is not like other men, he’s never had a girlfriend, never batted an eye at another girl. He rejected every single one of the girls that I chose for him and yet you come around and he wants to get married in less than a day. And now he wants to wait thirty days to have is Toasting.” She cackled. “Good luck having children, though by the looks of you I doubt you could carry a Mellark full term…if he ever desires to touch you.”

His mother’s words shocked her and gave her doubts about Peeta’s reason for accepting her proposal. She wondered if he did it out of spite for his mother. If that were true then he would tire of the partnership that they formed earlier. These thoughts plagued her for the rest of the afternoon. And that night as she stood in the bathroom, Katniss hoped everything her sister said and his mother said was wrong. She’d unpacked her meager belongings and stored them in the closet that was inside of the bathroom.

Her mind went over the kiss once again. Hours later and she was still affected by it. It brought up the idea of the marital bed and the things that happened in it and other possibilities. Even though she was sure she didn’t want children now, she admitted to herself further down the line she would like to have one small boy or girl with blond hair and Peeta’s eyes. Her hand flutters down to her stomach.

The idea of motherhood wasn’t something she often wanted or thought about but she wouldn’t mind with Peeta. The question remained would he want her to carry his children. For that to happen they would need to do stuff to the other. Maybe she was wrong maybe she should have agreed to marry Gale. At least he would want to talk to her. He would want her and desire to have kids.

However, as soon as a thought came to her mind about Gale she was repulsed and rejected that idea. “Ugh, that’s so gross.”

Taking a deep breath she exited the bathroom and found Peeta had made a pillow barrier, separating the two sides of the bed. Both had individual blankets and sheets. “Oh.”

Peeta rushed across the room, “I thought this would be more comfortable for both of us.”

Katniss straightened her shoulders. The truth was evident by the amount of pillows on the bed. This was going to be her life, the one she chose, until death do they part. Glancing at him, it occurred to her maybe they could be friends, companions of sorts. Katniss told herself that wouldn’t be that bad and she didn’t want children anyways so at least she would never have to worry about avoiding unwanted pregnancies. However before she resigned herself to a platonic marriage, they did need to have an open and honest discourse about their expectations for the marriage. Tonight was not the night to have it she was exhausted and oddly disappointed.

Putting on a brave face she asked, “Which side do you prefer sleeping on?”

“The window side, if you don’t mind, because I get hot at night.”

“Works for me.” Katniss said climbing into the bed, while Peeta opened the window and got into bed.

She thought she would never go to sleep, but the moment her head hit the pillows she was a goner.

It was the morning light that woke her. She was still half-asleep but she found she couldn’t move as if there was a barrier in her way, much like when Prim climbed into bed with her after a nightmare. She was comfortable and felt like she was at home.

Her only problem was that eventually she had to go to the bathroom.

“Prim,” she murmured her mind was holding her into thinking she was at home. It was the smell of fresh bread, cinnamon and dill that made her eyes pop open. She was being spooned by Peeta. With her hunter like reflexes she rolled out of bed. Sometime during the night the pillows that separated them were tossed onto the floor and and they met in the middle holding each other throughout the night.

Katniss touched her cheeks and her fingers smelled like his. Her lashes flutters closed with delight. This was an a side effect she could get used to. On the bed Peeta groaned, Katniss panicked and flew into the bathroom.

Once in the safety of the bathroom she took a good look at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed with a glow she’d never seen. Her gray eyes looked luminous and she she felt achy all over as if her body wanted to be back in Peeta’s arms.

Sleeping with him was not a hardship. Smiling, she thought this would be hers. This small space of time when she didn’t have to worry about his preferences. This was her niche and she could find happiness here. But as she got ready for the day she knew they still needed to talk. She quietly crept into the room and found him asleep on his side. Katniss gathered the pillows from the floor and created the barrier that he had made last night before leaving the room.

She went downstairs to the bakery and smiled when she saw Peeta’s father and River working. One glance at her and his father grinned. “My son put that glow upon your pretty cheeks.”

Katniss didn’t know where to look, she was so embarrassed. Demurely she asked, “Is it okay if I go hunting?”

“By all means go hunting. My son likes the squirrel meat you catch with your arrow. He’s always fascinated by the way you manage to shoot them through the eyes.”

Katniss thanked him and made her way out of the bakery. She headed for the woods. Finding her bow, she set off to hunt. Sometime later she had fishes, rabbits, birds, and a few squirrels.

Satisfied with her hunt she went first to her home and dropped off a rabbit for her sister and mother, even though no one was home. Next she went trading, first to the hob, then to the merchants. Everyone seemed so happy for her and congratulated her on her wedding.

It was around 3 in the afternoon when she arrived back at the bakery. Her father-in-law was happy when she handed him a nice fat goose.

“She’s a keeper,” he sang.

She smelled Peeta before she saw him.

“I’ve never seen my father so happy before.” Peeta’s arms were dusty from flour and Katniss had a sudden urge to run her hands up and down her arms. She jammed her hands in her pockets. “My dad really likes you.”

“I’m glad.” Katniss hoped the warm sting of her flush could be attributed it to the heat found in the bakery.

“So would you like for me to make dinner?”

Peeta washed his arms and Katniss noticed the he turned the hot water and the cold water handles. She became fascinated with the way he washed his hands and arms. She shook her head, by now Peeta was at a counter preparing to make something.

“Nope, I can make dinner.” Katniss stopped moving remembering the hot and cold tap. Shyly she asked, “Is it true you have hot water?”

“The water is always hot. The ovens heats the pipes.”

“Even in the dead of winter?” This was surreal for her.

“Even in the dead of winter.”

At home they had water but it was cold and it needed to be heated up to take a warm bath. Many buckets have to be heated on the pot belly stove and poured into the tin bathtub. She glanced at Peeta, asking for permission.

Peeta chuckled, “Go enjoy.”

She didn’t even blink she ran up the stairs. This was another thing that she could fully enjoy. Hot water was a luxury.

She turned the tap of the bathtub and felt the warm water gushing into the bath. Within seconds she was sighing into the hot water. Normally she didn’t do this. She was efficient, she scrubbed herself down quickly because often her sister and she shared a bath. This was decadent, she took a little longer scrubbing her limbs.

This wasn’t something Katniss did always but she promised herself she would do this at least once a week if not once a month. Getting dressed in clean clothes she began to cook. Soon the meal was done and Peeta came upstairs he was tired but he ate quietly and yawned a few times.

Katniss anticipated once more going to bed. In the morning the same thing happened again. In fact for the next few days it happened over and over again. Each morning Katniss enjoyed waking up wrapped up in Peeta’s arms. She loved smelling like him. She loved the way his breath felt on her neck. She loved staring at his long, nearly translucent eyelashes and she wondered how they never tangled. On Saturday she found her sister at home.

“Katniss,” Prim squealed giving Katniss a bear hug.

“Hey little duck,” Katniss greeted even though Prim was taller than her, and acted like a know-it-all-like her cat. “I haven’t seen you since Tuesday.”

“I’ve been busy helping mom, and I’ve been helping out Vick at the school.”

“Gale’s baby brother?” Katniss turned up and eyebrow.

“Oh my goodness you are glowing?” Prim turned the tables on Katniss she came close to her and inspected her face. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Katniss couldn’t help the happiness she felt. She felt tingly all over. Waking up in Peeta’s arms each morning was as great as eating a hearty bowl of stew on a chilly day.

“I’m assuming you spoke to Peeta and you guys are on the same page?”

Katniss busied herself with taking out the fish and goose she’d caught for her mother and sister. She took elaborate lengths to put them down on the table, as she tried to find the words to explain to her sister what was happening to her and the status of her relationship with Peeta. She opened and closed her mouth several times but nothing came out. This was a situation where she needed Peeta to speak for her. He was so much better at words and expressing himself.

“Katniss are you trying to tell me you haven’t spoken to him yet?” Her sister stood arms akimbo.

Katniss said in a high-pitched wimpy voice, “No.”

Katniss had never seen her baby sister get mad. It was a sight to see, but she became red and her eyes narrowed. She gave her that legendary Everdeen scowl.

“Oh for crying in the mud,” Prim said stomping over to the medicine cabinet, much the way her cat would thump it’s paws when it angrily walked away. Prim took a couple packets of her tea mixtures. “Here boil a third of each package, and drink the tea each morning without stopping.”

Katniss sniffed the package and by its smell she knew what they were used for. “I’m not having relations with Peeta.”

“You may not be having ‘relations,’ as you call it right now with Peeta, but by the look of you it won’t be long.” Prim held her hand up as she walked Katniss to the door. “Don’t try to argue with me. I would rather you be safe than sorry since you’re both not ready for kids. But you really should have a conversation with him in regards to your expectations of the relationship, and if after this trial period you want to separate, stay together in name only, or have a Toasting and make a go out of a real marriage.”

Katniss stood outside looking at her front door wondering what just happened. She’d come here to drop off food but she got scolded, medically diagnosed, and advised in the space of minutes. Looking at her hands she slipped the small packets in her pocket before heading back to the bakery. As she walked through the meadow her sisters words had a deep impact, what if Peeta wanted to separate at the end of the 30 days. His mother wanted him to get married and he did so that the bakery was his now.

Katniss asked herself what she would do, if that happened? She couldn’t find an answer. She did know however then if Peeta didn’t want to do a Tosting with her she could remain in the way that they were right now. The more she thought about it, it became apparent she was happy.

As for the other possibility of them having a Toasting right now that was as far away as the Moon. As she arrived at the bakery after selling her goods she noted how busy they all were. She washed up, went downstairs and helped with little things like cleaning the dishes and making sure the surfaces were clean so that they didn’t have to do that.

That night right before she fell asleep Peeta spoke to her. “Thank you for pitching in today. We were able to end the day earlier because of your help.”

“You’re welcome.” Her smile was so wide her hands clutched the pillow. Katniss was happy she could help him in some small way. Back home with her mother and sister she was always in the way and she didn’t have the tolerance to deal with the sick.

The next day was Sunday. Katniss woke up extra early. She wanted to catch something special for her boy with the bread. Also she didn’t want to run into Gale after what she observed at the reception.

Normally Mr. Mellark would be downstairs to greet her. Today the bakery was silent. After four days of marriage she discovered the bakery was always busy and noisy. The Mellarks never took a break. Lunch was a quick piece of bread with a cup of water. If the miners were allowed a 30 minute lunch then Peeta and his family deserved the same. Katniss had in mind to speak to Peeta about giving each one of them a break or even closing down for lunch. It would help them in the long run.

It was still dark when she stepped outside. It was beginning to get chillier. Fall will soon be upon them and Katniss’ mind turn to saving up for the winter. She could make jerky to help them during the long months. She could also ask her mother to help her can vegetables.

As she slipped underneath the fence, she thought about asking Peeta if she could share the food that she preserved with her family. Peeta was generous and by extension so was his father. River, however, was still a mystery to her. While he did like to drink, she’d seen him frequenting Rippers white liquor booth at the Hob, when he was at the bakery he didn’t even smell of alcohol. He worked just as hard as his father and Peeta.

Grabbing her bow she made her way into the woods. By now the sun was rising and the forest became alive with the sounds of birds chirping. She went to the lake and after setting her nets she set out to hunt. As the sunlight became stronger, she shot a few geese, then she shot a couple of rabbits and squirrels. Her biggest catch was a turkey. They were easy prey as long as they weren’t running. They were as fast Mr. Henderson’s old jalopy, a car left over from the dark days.

With her turkey in hand she sat down to check her nets. Greasy loved the fresh fish. Her customers liked the summer delicacy fried. Satisfied with the amount of fish, she decided to go back to the bakery. Normally she would head to her mother’s, but it was still early. Her sister and mother would still be sleeping.

She was headed toward the tree where she hid her bow and arrows.

“I see you went hunting without me, Catnip.”

Gale’s voice made her flinch. She turned around looking for him. She couldn’t spot him. A leaf drop from the sky, most likely he was hiding in a tree.

“What do you want Gale?” Katniss took a step back, his smell made her stomach turn.

“I wanted to have a talk with you.” He squinted up at the sun. “Why didn’t you want a Toasting with Mellark?”

“That’s my private business with my husband.” Katniss said watching Gale carefully.

Gale chuckled, took a step forward, and waved his finger in her face. “That’s a lie and you know it. Let’s be honest Katniss, before the eyes of the district, Mellark isn’t really considered your husband. Everyone knows you’re not married, not until you have a Toasting.”

Katniss hated the grin on his face, he made her mad. “In the eyes of the laws of Panem I am married.”

“This is District Twelve Katniss. Around these parts folks consider what you and Peeta are doing a sin. They believe you’re shacking up with the baker’s son and that once he tires of you he’s going to toss you out into the streets. Katniss can’t you see he’s using you. If he wanted you he would have Toasted with you the day you signed the paperwork at the Justice Building.”

“I asked him not to Toast with me Gale and he agreed because he’s a gentleman.” Katniss said through clenched teeth. She couldn’t believe Gale was questioning her life with Peeta. It was none of his business!

Gale mercilessly laughed. “You’re so freaking naive. He knows you don’t want a real marriage, Katniss. He knows you don’t want kids that’s why he agreed to only sign the papers. He doesn’t care for you the way I do. He doesn’t know you the way I do. Hell he doesn’t want you the way I do.”

Gale reached out to touch her and she took several steps backwards. She was angered by his dogged persistence. She’d been telling him ‘no’ in various ways for the better part of three years. She’d hoped by going through the ceremony at the Justice Building with Peeta, signing the paperwork, and having the reception, Gale would understand that she was off limits. Yet here she was, once again, having the same tired conversation.

“We could be so good together, me and you we are the same, don’t you see Katniss can’t you see…how much I want you.”

“Anytime you talk to me all you say is how much you want me as if I’m something to be had.” She yelled, “A possession for you to put in your house like a trophy.”

“Is that what he’s told you? That you’d be a trophy!” Gale grabbed her by the forearm and growled at her.

His eyes looked feral and his grip hurt her arms, yet, Katniss stood her ground. “Let me go Gale!”

“Mellark won’t ever give you kid, or a chance at a real marriage. I can give you that.” Gale moved in to kiss her. He murmured as he leaned down, “He’s soft, using you to get back at his mother.”

Katniss kicked him in the shins. He fell like a tree being cut down by an expert lumberjack from District Seven. She quickly notched an arrow, aiming her bow at his chest.

“Peeta is a wonderful man. He’s gentle and kind and he loves his family. And if you touch me or do anything to me I can go to Darius and he can have you locked up.”

Gale put his hands up.

She walked backwards until she was near the fence wanting to get away from Gale she went underneath the fence and ran toward the bakery.

Luckily it was still early enough, none of her neighbors saw her slip into the backyard. River was outside when he spotted her running. Her nerves were still strung high and she aimed her loaded bow at River.

“Hey Katniss…don’t worry, I’m not spying. It’s my turn to clean the ovens with Peeta.” He greeted, but his look turned to concern.

Katniss was shaking with anger, shock, and a myriad of other emotions she couldn’t identify. Uncharacteristically of her she burst into tears. Her knees gave way and she dropped to the ground.

River sat by her but didn’t touch her. His silence was comforting. As she calmed down he gave her a handkerchief. “You want to tell me what happened out there in the woods?”

“How did you know I was in the woods?” Katniss blew her nose.

“Well besides all the dead carcasses you have in your game bag, and the turkey you dropped as you ran into the back yard, not to mention the twigs and leaves adorning your head, you’re still carrying your bow and arrows.” River was examining her weapon. “You’re so tiny, how the heck do you pull that string back far enough to catch birds in mid flight? And how in hell do you get them right through the eye…”

River’s comments made her chuckle. Although he was curious he was also very serious. “I had an altercation with Gale in the woods.”

“Did he hurt you?” Although his voice was calm his eyes we’re not, they raging with fire.

“Don’t tell Peeta he tried to kiss me.”

“I don’t think my brother needs to know about Gale. The last time Gale put his hands on you, Peeta put Gale in the type of headlock that can cause you to lose consciousness. I shudder to think what my baby brother would do if he found out Gale tried to kiss you.”

“He did grab and squeeze my shoulders, but I kicked him in the shins. He let go when he fell backwards.” Katniss admitted, “I kind of, notched an arrow and pointed my bow at him.” When she lifted her arm to show him how easily she could notch her bow she grimaced in pain, her shoulders hurt. Gale had hurt her.

“Good for you.” River got up and pulled a small glass jar with a Capitol label on it from his pocket. Go inside get washed up and put some of this medication on the bruises. It should clear up by tomorrow.” He took her bow and began walking toward the the cellar.

“Where are you going?”

“I going to hide your weapon in the cellar. Then I am going to get Carlton. It’s time we had a chat with Gale. He has to understand even if you and Peeta don’t have a Toasting, you’re still my baby brother’s wife. And no one should ever put a hand on you. Oh and Katniss, not everything you hear is true.”

Katniss nodded. She went inside, luckily Peeta was still asleep. Katniss felt disgusting, Gale’s scent was all over her and she hated it. She scrubbed her body from head to toe. Her shoulders were tender and the bruises on her arm looked violent a mixture of red and purple shades. The white gel like content of the glass jar River gave her immediately took away her pain. By the time she dried her hair and dressed, the bruising was fading. Peeta was awake and was making breakfast.

The moment she saw him she bit her bottom lip to keep from telling him what had happened.

Peeta gave her a brilliant smile and opened his arms up to her. Katniss did not waste any time and when he wrapped his arms around her she felt safe like when she was a kid with her father. She sniffled.

“Hey you okay?” His voice was tender.

“I feel like I’m home.” It was important for her to tell him how she felt.

Peeta gently rubbed her back, and embraced her tighter.

Monday morning it rained and Katniss was glad she didn’t have to go into the woods. Both Carlton and River showed up at the bakery. They had busted lips but had goofy grins on their faces.

“WHERE IS THE LITTLE SEAM BRAT!” Mrs. Mellark blew into the bakery as if she’d flew in with the easterly wind guiding her broom.

“Now dear,” Mr. Mellark began.

Mrs. Mellark marched right up to Katniss. Mr. Mellark stood in her path. “You stupid man get out of my way,” she screeched.

Carlton, River, and Peeta came out from the back, all three stood behind their father. One Mellark was taller than the next. Katniss wasn’t sure what to make of the situation.

Mr. Mellark cleared his throat once more before he began speaking. “I thought you said you wouldn’t step a foot in the bakery, it’s not our property any more. Now take a deep breath and tell me what has brought you here on this lovely morning.”

“My Carlton stayed out all night and I am sure that little -”

“Watch what you say about Katniss, mom,” Carlton warned cutting off his mother.

“She’s a Mellark,” River supplied.

Katniss peeked her head around the Peeta’s side. She could see the woman’s eyes narrow, her lips puckered disapprovingly, as if she got a fly caught in her teeth while flying over here. Katniss had enough of hiding, she wasn’t one to cower behind men.

“If you have something to say, say it to my face,” Katniss said moving in front of the men.

“You’re a bad influence,” Mrs. Mellark spat.

“No she’s not,” Peeta countered.

“I think Katniss is the best thing that happened to our family.” River raised an eyebrow.

“Dad’s happier, River comes to work on time. Heck, he was here yesterday early to clean the ovens. The business is making money with Peeta in charge, its up a good 12 percent,” Carlton said. “The books don’t lie. I came by to balance them today.”

“Have you all lost your mind?” Mrs. Mellark’s voice sounded strangled.

“Mom, Katniss is my wife, and I can assure you we spent the entire day and night together,” Peeta said.

“She did go out hunting yesterday,” Carlton said.

“But she didn’t trade with anyone. She brought all of the game home to share with us. I can’t wait to eat that turkey!” River rubbed his belly.

“She caught a turkey?” Peeta’s mother eyed her, though something in the woman’s eyes was different there was no malice behind the her harsh words, almost as if she was impressed. The woman was known as a witch. She wasn’t friendly and she was known to hurt her kids. Katniss puzzled over her behavior.

“Shot it right through the eye,” River boasted.

“She’s quite the marksmith,” Peeta said.

“Are all of you telling me you like that dirty…”

“Mother, please refrain from saying anything that later on you will regret,” Carlton warned. “Katniss is a-”

“Mellark,” all three said at the same time. Katniss watched a myriad of emotions flash through Mrs. Mellark’s face from anger, to disbelief, to astonishment.

“She’s a good, hard-working girl who will pitch in the bakery, even after spending all morning hunting. She even cooked food for our lunch today.” River winked at Katniss.

“Plus still helps out her mom and sister,” Peeta said.

“Dear, you see Katniss is blameless of whatever imagined crime you were going to accuse her of.” He placed a kiss on Mrs. Mellark’s forehead. “Now I don’t know what these two knuckleheads were doing, but look at them, dear, when was the last time we saw our boys seem united. River and Carlton haven’t threatened each other.”

“Yeah, and River had one drink mom. He restrained himself last night, took care of me.” Carlton shrugs, “We settled our differences.”

“It’s true dear; after Katniss agreed to marry Peeta you and I both know River has come home with me after work. He wants to help with the orphaned children. He and I have been making plans to help the kids transition out, find them jobs, help feed them.”

“It’s true mom,” River said. “I’ve been sober for the past two months. After Peeta made his decision to not marry I started to ask myself if I wanted to be like Abernathy. I didn’t and if Peeta could get what he wanted so could I. It wasn’t easy, but last night was the first time I touched a drink in two months, and I didn’t even drink it. I asked the bartender to give me sarsaparilla.”

Mrs. Mellark inspected each one of the men before she crackled a laugh.

Katniss was confused by her mother-in-law’s quick turn around.

“I’ve been trying to make this lot act like men for years and suddenly because of you they are,” she grinned wickedly. “I would like some tea, preferably chamomile.”

Katniss turned to Peeta and his brothers, whose mouths hung ajar.

“I told you your mother liked Katniss,” Mr. Mellark whistled.

Katniss made Mrs. Mellark some tea and joined her as she told Katniss how she had to toughen up her boys because their cousins used to beat them. She wanted her boys to be tough, and was surprised when all of them stood up to her. She stayed for lunch and behaved civilly. Mrs. Mellark, turns out, was taking full advantage of her retirement. She loved her bridge club, her gardening, her knitting club, and her future travelers club. She was planning on taking a trip to each of the districts. She even hinted at grandchildren which made all three of her children extremely uncomfortable.

Katniss was amazed when she left with Carlton in tow. River said he’d never seen his mother act so human, and asked Katniss what sedative she’d put in her tea. Before he left he took Katniss to the side.

“Don’t worry about any guy being rude or mean to you, we’ve got you. I know you’re capable of shooting them through the eye, but I don’t want you to be imprisoned. I like what you’ve done to my family.” River grinned patted her head and left.

With her secret safe, Katniss continue her path with Peeta. After her admission on Sunday they began talking, about their likes dislikes, favorite colors. It happened at night when they had the house to themselves.

They were in bed lying on their respective sides of the bed, the pillow barrier between them.

“So you want us to take a break after the midday rush?” Peeta sat up and peered over the pillow barrier.

“You’re so tired when you drag yourself upstairs, you yawn during dinner. If you had a half-hour so that you could rest, you’d feel better at the end of the day.” Katniss could see Peeta weighing her case. “Especially your father. He’s not the young man he used to be.”

“Dad does take longer to do things.”

“I would do the cooking, I can make something fresh or reheat leftovers for all three of you.”

“My mom never let us have a break. It’s why we work the way we do, but my mom is not the boss anymore. She hasn’t set foot here since the day we married.” He scratched his chin. “Alright, we’ll start tomorrow? So what’s on the menu?”

Katniss smiled shyly. “Is there anything you would like to eat?”

“I personally love your squirrel stew. Or a fried rabbit sandwich.” Peeta laid down and his stomach rumbled.

“Sounds like you could use a snack now.” Katniss got up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to make you a sandwich; you’re still hungry.”

Peeta grinned and sprang from the bed. Katniss laughed at his antics. He wiggled his eyebrow. “What, I plan on growing nice and fat.” After this Peeta stopped making the pillow barrier, and they would ease their way closer to each other as they talked and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The third week when she couldn’t go hunting, because it was thundering outside she cleaned the bakery and often found herself watching as Peeta made bread. His hands were fascinating tools.

Her heart fluttered every time he walked into the room. Her cheeks became heated when he touched her hand or brushed her hair away from her face. There were times her insides would grow warm and mushy when he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

They were preparing to go to bed and talking about the bakery. “I got word today and that the Capitol wants to get rid of the flour that was given in Tesserae. I was thinking of buying some and seeing what bread I can make from it and maybe making it as an economy bread for the people who can’t afford a higher priced bread. I thought possibly to enrich it with raisin or nuts to make the loaf heartier.”

Katniss was slowly starting to realize just how much money went into making the baked goods they sold. “As long as you can keep the cost down, make the price affordable for the people who can’t buy the more expensive bread. It will be a great idea.”

“You really think so?”

“Tesserae flour is not as refined as the flour you get here for the bakery.” Katniss recalled those days. At the 74th games she would have had 20 slips in the bowl. When the president died and the games discontinued the government decided to give all of its workers a pay raise. The miners’ raise what’s so significant their weekly salary lasted longer. The quality of life changed and Tesserae was no longer needed.

“What does the flour look like?”

They were both in the bed by now, his window was opened, and the lights were turned off.

She thought about the flour that came in those packs. “It was grainy and harder to mix into bread. Most people made flat-breads or they use it as a thickener for soups and stews. They also made dumplings with it.”

“Thank you, that was very insightful.” He reached out and lightly touched her hand.

Katniss felt electrical currents running up and down her arm. Heat poured into her cheeks and she was glad the room was dark. He rolled to her and she didn’t waste time in settling her head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat was as soothing as listening to a cool breeze filter through the trees in the woods.

A few nights later Peeta came out of the bathroom. “Green, your favorite color is green?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“It does make sense; you do love the woods.”

“Thank you for letting Prim stay last night she enjoyed her hot bath.”

“Katniss, your sister is family, and as long as your mother is okay with it, she can stay over any time she wants.”

“Thank you.” Katniss gave him a shy smile. “Maybe tomorrow night you can show me the shade of orange you like?”

Peeta got into the bed but didn’t lie down as was his custom. “What else do you like?”

Katniss was puzzled by his question. It must have shown on her face because he said, “I know you’re deadly with a bow, but squeamish when it comes to injuries. I thought you were going to faint when you saw the blister on River’s hand as you tended to him.”

Katniss was embarrassed she nearly threw up several times.

“I know you prefer honey over sugar in your tea. I know you hate getting up early but do it anyways because the game you catch helps out everyone. By the way, Carlton would like for you to catch an extra squirrel he wants to make a three meat stew.”

“Consider it done.”

“But besides your favorite color and tea I don’t know what else you like.”

“I like cheese buns.” Katniss mouth watered as she recalled the taste of the savory cheesy roll.

“Cheese buns?”

“Anything with cheese really. Prim makes the best goat cheese and in the Spring and Summer she adds different herbs that make it taste unique.”

“Okay what else?”

“I like to read. I didn’t have much access to books in the Seam. After Snow died and the government sent all of the those books to the school I used to pour over the books in the library during lunch. One time I snuck one out and took it with me to the woods to read.” Katniss said fondly. “To this day the Diary of Anne Frank is my favorite.”

Peeta reached over to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for sharing.”

Katniss went to sleep and the next day when she came home from hunting her spirits were low. Gale ruined all of the traps he made for her. It began to down pour and she wasn’t able to catch much. She didn’t want to say anything to River because she knew they would want to have a ‘word’ with Gale. Katniss wanted to cut out the middleman and go directly to the power behind Gale. Her old hunting buddy was as stubborn as a mule but there was one person in the entire district he never dared cross, his mother.

She took a shower, despite wanting a bath. It was busy downstairs and they needed her help. After she was dressed and feeling a little better Katniss walked out of the bathroom, and frowned when she saw the box on the bed. It hadn’t been there when she walked in earlier. Curious, she walked up to it and saw a note.

“Please enjoy - Peeta.”

Opening the box she squealed when she saw the books. “She read out loud the titles as she picked up each book, “Catcher in the Rye, Pride and Prejudice, Of Mice and Men, Romeo and Juliet, Jane Eyre, A Christmas Carol, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe, The Hobbit, The Fault in Our Stars, A Walk to Remember, The Notebook, Jurassic Park, Night.” She dug around some more and then her hands stopped and tears clouded her vision momentarily. In a shaky voice she said, “Diary of Anne Frank.”

Within seconds she was down the stairs. Like one of her arrows seeking it’s prey she sought out Peeta. Finding him she hugged him and placed small kisses over his face. “Thank you for the book!” Katniss said before hugging him and burying her face in his neck. His scent wound itself around her.

Peeta wrapped his arms around her, holding her. Both forgot he was in the front of the store helping out patrons with their purchases.

“Oh young love,” one of the women sighed. She turned to her husband, “Why don’t you do nice things for me?”

The husband replied, “Start kissing me like that and I’ll give you the moon.”

A few days later she was with her sister. They were putting the books away on the shelf the boys made. It took them three days to put three shelves up; shelves that fell to the floor by themselves. Katniss chuckled. All four of the Mellark men were experts with pastries and bread, but between them they could not figure out how to properly saw a piece of wood. Katniss and her sister ended up finishing the project.

“Where do you think Peeta found all of these books?”

“I don’t know Prim, but they magically appeared from one day to the next.”

“They must have cost him a lot of money.” Prim carefully touched one of the books with a paper cover.

“Prim,” Katniss sat down on the bed. “Do you think he likes me?”

Her sister spun around. “You haven’t had the talk with him yet?”

“No,” Katniss said embarrassed. They talked every night but not about the one subject they needed to talk about. She really did care about him in a way that was different than the love that she felt for her sister.

“Katniss, you can’t avoid this talk forever. Your 30 days are almost over and if you don’t have this talk with him he might not want to have a Toasting with you. Then you’ll never know unless you ask him what he wants.”

“I know, I know I should have the talk with him and ask him what he wants and how he feels about sex. But sometimes I just like being kept wrapped up, talking about other stuff with him.”

“Like what?”

“Everything,” Katniss shrugged. “We talked about everything, the weather, the bakery…you.”

Prim rubbed her face. “Vick said you weren’t going to chicken out.”

“Gale’s baby brother?” Lately her sister mentioned Vick increasingly in her conversations.”

“By the way Vick, said his mom pulled Gale’s ear and sent him to bed without his dinner. She was so mad to hear about what he was doin to you in the woods she prohibited him from hanging out with his mining buddies. She doesn’t like that they drink and he spends way too much of his salary at the slag heap. To ensure his buddies don’t get out of hand, she convinced his mining buddies’ wives and mothers to pick them up at the end of their shifts.”

Katniss grinned. She knew Hazzelle was a no-nonsense kind of mom, who appreciated honesty. Katniss was brutally honest when she had a talk with Hazzelle, including why Carlton and River fought Gale. Hazzelle was madder than a hornet’s nest. “So you’re spending a lot of time with a boy who is two years younger.”

Her sister turned red. She had a guilty look on her face, much like her Buttercup did that one time he drank the goat milk Prim needed to make cheese.

“What’s going on between you and Vick?”

“Nothing, I know he’s so young, but he’s so different from his brothers…he’s just a friend.” Prim trailed off.

“You know what they say, when there’s smoke there’s fire,” Katniss said enjoying how the shoe was finally on the other foot.

“The same could be said of you and Peeta. I mean, look at all these books he got you. Something is there.”

Katniss wasn’t sure. They were growing closer but she didn’t know what it was between them. It could be friendship or a type of camaraderie; they were allies. Though lately she wanted to be kissed and touched. She wanted to know what ‘it’, was like. Did she simply lie there while he stuck his appendage inside? Was it supposed to feel good? Would she feel those electrical currents like when he placed kisses on her forehead or when he touched her hand. Katniss wasn’t sure, but she did not want to discuss these things with her baby sister.

Katniss picked up the Diary of Anne Frank and clenched it tightly against her chest.

Prim sat by her. “You need to talk to him and you need to do it as soon as possible because at the end of the 30 days there is only three possible outcomes. You have a Toasting with him. He lets you go and you seperate. And the last option, stay in the same position. Yuu know there are those who have the same mindset as Gale who will try to take advantage of you or Peeta, and those who will shun you.”

Katniss knew what Primrose said was true. She needed to put her fears aside and talk to Peeta about them, and her desires and whether or not he wanted to be with her, a girl from the Seam.

The Sunday before the 30 days were up, she felt ‘it’, his manhood pressing up against her bottom. Her body became damp down there, and her breasts ached for his touch. The bubble had burst as Katniss realized she wanted more out of the marriage. It was time to have the dreaded talk.

This time she did not get up from the bed as she had been doing for days. She waited for him to wake up. He moved closer to her and she held onto him knowing this would possibly be the last moment she would ever be this close with him.

As he awoke his breathing changed and his arm tightened around her momentarily before he became stiff and pushed away from her. The rejection hurt.

“Katniss…,” he stammered pushing his blond hair away from his face.

Katniss sadly sat up in bed. She held a pillow in her arms as a sort of fortification for her body, her heart, her mind, and spirit. “I’m not good with words, but I know we have to talk.”

He ran his hands through his hair in an agitated way. “Yeah, I know.”

Katniss closed her eyes and blurted, “Do you find me attractive, like in the way a man wants a female?”

“What?”

Katniss cracked open one eye to find Peeta staring at her slack jawed.

“I warned you I’m not good with words, and frankly I wouldn’t even know how it works between men and women in a situation like this, but if you don’t or can not want me because I’m from the Seam, then we’ve got to be honest to make this situation work for both of us.” She was so embarrassed she buried her face into the pillow. “I want sex with you!”

Peeta was a talker; she knew it from watching him at school. He always said the prettiest things. So she expected him to talk and say something brilliant. What she didn’t expect was the silence after her declaration. She waited with her face buried in the pillow for him to speak, hell for him to walk away. Nothing happened.

Just when she thought she was going crazy he began to laugh. Curiously, she looked up to see he was laughing so hard he fell over on the bed clutching his side with tears running down his face.

Angered by his reaction to her gut-wrenching declaration she took the pillow and hit him with it several times.

“Hey,” he exclaimed.

One moment she had a pillow in the hand the next moment she was pinned underneath him, his hands on either side of her face, and her legs trapped by his. This poked at the embers of the fire she felt stirring when she kissed him on their wedding day.

Peeta lazily smiled at her. “You’re so pure and perfect for me.”

Katniss wasn’t sure what he meant by that but she was sure there was an insult in there. “ I’m not pure…I…I…want…”

“Go ahead say it. I dare you to but you can’t because you’re not built that way, and it drives me insane with lust for you. Always has, always will.”

Katniss was confused.

“I asked my brother River to start the rumor that I didn’t want to get married. He did it because he knew I was in love with a girl I thought I could never have. I thought she was in a committed relationship. I didn’t want to end up like my father in a loveless marriage. I would rather be alone for the rest of my life. But my mother made it harder for me. She wouldn’t give me the bakery unless I married.”

It occurred to Katniss she was missing out on a great big joke.

She wanted him and he wanted some unattainable girl. Unwanted tears gathered in her eyes. This was the other scenario her sister warned her about. “What’s her name? You know we haven’t Toasted yet. You can still have her in your life. Anything, as long as you’re happy.” Katniss figured someone should be happy in this relationship, and if not her, she wanted it to be him.

“This is why you’re so pure because you are willing to give up your own happiness for mine.” His eyes became soft, his voice tender, “I love you Katniss. I’ve I’ve loved you for so long, since I was a boy.”

“A boy,” Katniss whispered with awe and disbelief. “You’ve loved me for that long?” The interior of her being burst into flames by those words.

“I heard you sing the valley song when we were kids and I was a goner. River used to make fun of me because I was so committed to you and you were with Gale.”

Katniss wrinkled her nose at hearing Gale’s name.

“The day you came to see me I thought I was going to lose the bakery. My mother was fed up with me and threatened she was going to hand the bakery to River.” He loosened his grip cupping her face.

He began placing small kisses on her face. Katniss wound her arms around his neck. Each kiss caused the embers to become brighter, the fire spread from her heart to her belly and to the tips of her toes. She glowed from a combination of his words and his kisses. Sweet kisses that made her hungry for more.

“When you proposed, I grabbed onto that and I wasn’t going to let you slip from my fingers. Had there been enough time I would have married you that same day. When Gale showed up I thought it was over for me but then I saw the way you had my back during the fight and I knew I had a real chance.”

“You don’t have competition anywhere Peeta.” She arched into him when he nuzzled her neck.

“I know that now.”

He kissed the her forehead, when her eyelashes fluttered closed he placed a kiss on each one. Katniss anticipated a kiss on her lips, but he traced the tip on her nose and her lips with his finger tip. Katniss’ breathing was erratic as if she had run a mile. Her body was hot, the nightgown she wore was suddenly itchy and cumbersome. Her lashes opened and she hoped he could see the heat.

He groaned at her fierce look. “You’re so beautiful. It’s been hell keeping my hands off of you.”

He gently kissed her bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside her mouth. She mewled at the contact of his mouth and the fire spread to the juncture of her thighs. She squirmed beneath him, until she could wrap her legs around his middle. He was hard and the friction felt good; the fire was beginning to get out of control.

Peeta sat back and she growled at the loss of contact, until she watched him tear his pajama top off exposing his muscled chest. For Katniss it was like Christmas. A little happy cry escaped her mouth when it dawned on her he wanted her to touch him. Her fingers eagerly reached out and touched his flesh. He was soft and warm, yet she could feel the hard muscle beneath her fingertips. She was drawn to the sprinkling of hair that ran down the middle of his chest. Without thought or preamble she began trailing little kisses on his chest following the line down.

Hearing him gasp and moan at her touches fueled the fire within her and the need to touch and be touched.

Peeta hands trailed down to the hemline of her nightgown. He paused as if asking her permission. By Nature she was shy, but she felt bold around Peeta and she took the hem and pulled her nightgown off over head and threw it into a corner.

He drew in a sharp breath and his blue widened and became dark at the sight of her near naked form. “You are beautiful.”

Embarrassed by his compliment she turned her face away. This was the moment she decided how to live the rest of her life. She could move forward with Peeta letting him have her body or she could cover herself up and deny what she desired.

Taking a big breath she laid back down and opened her arms to him. Her whole body was a flame, hot and bothered. The juncture between her thighs was wet and achy, with need. Her underwear was soaked.

He laid on top of her. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”

Katniss reached up and kissed him; it was all he needed. They touched and discovered and tasted the other and when it came time for her to receive him she didn’t feel the pain that she heard whispered about. His movements were at first cautious, but as he noted her enjoyment he became confident; each stroke meant to bring her to an unknown volcanic summit.

Katniss was burning, her skin and soul were as hot and radiant as the sun. As her entire existence seemed to burst into a pure beam of light, from her lips she shouted Peeta’s name. Her soul had found its home. She was loved, cherished, and desired by her boy with the bread.

As they came down Peeta asked her, “You love me real or not real?”

With all of the love that she felt in her being, she whispered, “Real.”

***

Two days later, at midday their family gathered around the fireplace. It wasn’t a lavish affair, a private toasting which suited both Katniss and Peeta. Everyone gathered around them was happy as love filled the room. Katniss stood before Peeta smiling, her sister and mother stood by crying silent tears as Peeta finished toasting the bread. They each ripped off a piece and fed it to the other. They didn’t need the bread because they were already committed to the other, ready to have their better tomorrow.

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #mega aulover #prompt 78

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millennialzadr · 5 years

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About Page!

Hello~! Thank you so much for visiting my blog! My name is Koya, I’m 25, I’m pansexual, my pronouns are she/her, and I’m a full time freelance artist! My main blog is @koyakyuuun, so I’ll be liking and following from there!

Below are some guidelines for those who are curious to know more about this blog and what to expect from it, as well as some general info and FAQs!

Content Guidelines!

The focus of this blog!

So this blog is a mish mash of a couple different themes, but above all it is an adult oriented Invader Zim fan blog!! I grew up with the show and and was a BIG fan during highschool, and after rediscovering it this year I have been DAZZLED and DELIGHTED by the fan content being produced today!! I have a deeply nostalgic yet completely new perspective on the show now that I’m in my 20s, so alongside of celebrating iz content and fan content in general, this blog will center around my niche fave: the iz cast + millennial culture! in other words, the characters depicted as if they lived in the real world and aged in real time! I loved and related to the characters as a kid, and I still love them dearly to this day, so to see people experiment with character interpretations and create adult versions of them means I can still relate to them even now, and even make my own versions! and as a queer neurodivergent millennial who loves niche culture, my favorite versions of the characters are queer neurodivergent millennials who love niche culture!! (and by niche culture I mean MEMES, AESTHETICS, BAD FASHION, GAY CULTURE, CRYPTID CULTURE, DARK CORNERS OF THE INTERNET, CREATIVELY WEIRD SELF EXPRESSION ETC!!)

And of course the other main theme which fits into the first: ZADR! while I don’t ship Zim and Dib as they’re canonically presented in the show, I DO adore the idea of the two growing up together, eventually becoming friends, and eventually falling in love. I’m a Big Gay and I love romance and lgbt content, and ZADR holds such a soft place in my heart 😭 I wrote a big post about why I love it so much which you can see here if you’re curious about my interpretation of the ship!

And now, some guidelines!!

Things I enjoy and will be posting/reblogging!

- general IZ content! because holy SHIT I love the show and ALL the content the fandom creates is awe inspiring and amazing!!!

- millennial culture/humor! I FUCKING LOVE IZ + 2019 POP CULTURE REFERENCES AND MEME CONTENT OKAY

- POSITIVE CONTENT! IZ is my comfort content and I deeply admire the positive impact the show has had on so many people. I also interpret Zim and Dib as having hard lives and mental problems but eventually recovering and finding happiness (and making each other happy!!). I do also love vent content and gritty/dark themes from an artistic standpoint (and of course comedic Depression™ memes) but I will be focusing much more on comforting and uplifting content!

- character development/relationships, fluff, comedy, domestic content, daily life, sci fi, conspiracy/cryptid content, fashion portraits and camp horror!! these are my favorite themes!!

- friendship, romance, and found family!! I adore the relationships between the characters and they ALL DESERVE LOVE!!!!! JHONEN CAN BITE MY ASS

- the IZ creators!! speaking of Jhonen LOL I LOVE seeing content about the creators themselves!! I genuinely have such affection and admiration for the wonderful people who brought and continue to bring the world of IZ to life, they are such amazing and inspiring human beings and I will be celebrating them alongside their creations!!

- IZ characters + aesthetics!! some of my MOST favorite IZ content depicts the characters being stylized with or sporting the fashion of vaporwave, goth, grunge, pastel, spacecore, cryptidcore, future funk, 90s disastercore and any and all things strange, niche, glittery and neon, and I FUCKING LOVE IT. GOD

- and lastly, I talk a fuck of a lot, as you can probably tell by this post lol. I’ll be screaming in the tags constantly and am liable to write the occasional super long text post! for those who are into that, I invite you to have discussions with me! and for those who aren’t, feel free to ignore them!

Things I will be staying away from!

- romantic content that depicts the characters as minors AKA underage zadr!! there will be no kid ships here! I’m an adult and only enjoy shipping adult versions of the characters! kid content will be either canon, wholesome, or friendship content! while I do find adult versions of the characters attractive since they have qualities I find attractive in real life, I see the adult versions as almost completely different people since they’re so far removed from the source content, and the love I feel for the canon kids is HIGHLY maternal and very nostalgia centric. this would probably be more clear if I didn’t lump the two types of content into the same blog, but I really do love both the adult fan interpreted IZ world and the canon IZ world in equal measure, just in different ways!

- content that fetishizes or ‘yaoi’-fies gay relationships! I am a queer person and I enjoy queer content made by queer people for queer people, you’re not gonna find any “B-BUT WE’RE BOTH BOYS!” shit here 😂

- content that depicts abuse between friends or partners!! while violence is an active theme in zim and dib’s canonical relationship, I very much dislike zadr content that depicts the two being aggressive or malicious towards each other while they’re supposedly in love. complex relationships are certainly interesting, but while toxic and abusive relationships are realistic, they’re not okay and should not be romanticized. I understand some people use that kind of content to cope, but for me it’s nothing but bad feelings. sparring and play fighting is fine and good, consensual violence could be interesting to explore, but hatred will stay separate from romance on this blog.

- discourse and long conversations about negative topics! I acknowledge the importance of discussing problems within the fandom, however I wish for this blog to be a positive and comforting place, since iz content in general is positive and comforting for me! there may be an occasional post that touches on real life negative topics but overall this will be kept to a minimum.

- explicit content!! while I DO both draw and consume nsfw adult zadr content, it will not be on this blog! since tumblr decided to be idiots and remove any way for minors and people who don’t wish to see nsfw content to hide it, this blog will remain pg-13. I will also not be providing any links to my other sites because of this (I am a nsfw artist and I sell porn commissions for a living, not trying to shove that in the faces of my minor, ace and sex repulsed followers, but by all means seek out my art if you DO wish to!). similarly, I will not be releasing my nsfw zadr art publicly anywhere, since aged up characters are controversial and my career, being online, could suffer if someone wanted to use that against me. HOWEVER, for fellow adult fans with extra cash who take a shine to my art, paid content could be a possibility in the future 👀

Interaction Guidelines!

Things I’m okay with!

- tagging my posts in any way you wish! kinning is fine! any ship interpretation is fine! any gender/orientation interpretation is fine! sharing your thoughts/opinions is fine!

- as long as you CREDIT me! using my art for icons/headers etc, drawing my iz designs, referencing my art, and reposting my art on other sites is all okay!

- asks or anons of any questions you might have about me or my content!

- asks or anons popping in to share thoughts, opinions and ideas! it’s always nice to hear from other fans!

- leaving comments in the tags/replies/reblogs of my posts makes me very happy!! tumblr is the only place I post my fanart and I love seeing what people think of it!

Things I’m not okay with!

- messages, reblogs, tags or asks that are blatantly rude or disrespectful! I really do not care what the subject or reason is, if you act like an asshole, I will not respond and will block you!

- asks or messages that say only ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’ I have no problem with people trying to be friendly but I never have a single idea of how to reply to these kinds of messages, I’m so sorry 😂 please talk to me about fandom stuff though!!

- pressure to produce content! I like any other creator adore comments and compliments, but things like “DRAW MORE!!” “MORE ZADR!!” “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO DRAW MORE!!” are not compliments!! it is in fact very off putting so please don’t do that! it will mess with my motivation! consider commissioning me if you want more content!

- if you are considering trying to be my friend, please be 20+!! I am not comfortable being friends with teens! nothing against my teen followers, I respect and appreciate you, but please understand I cannot relate to you on a personal level, and besides that, being friends with someone over 20 can be harmful and even dangerous for minors! I am an adult and only wish to have adult friends! please respect my wishes!

About my content!

So since what I like to draw is usually pretty different from the show, here are the basic headcanons for my interpretations of adult Zim and Dib~! Basically they’re queer 2019 millennials who are damaged but doing their best and enjoy niche interests and subcultures. Zim is the type who’s tough to handle but it’s worth it because he’s an amazing and colorful person underneath it all and only those he’s close to get to see that, and Dib is an eccentric but completely reliable, intelligent, passionate, and loyal friend whose company is a familiar comfort and a total safe space. They live together and are mutually beneficial allies to friends to lovers!

I HAVE A FIC, or at least an idea for one lol and when using my designs for the characters, my drawings will most likely be set in its context! Affectionately nicknamed the Soft AU, it’s centered around rest, recovery, affection, care and bonding… bc I’m SOFT OKAY 😂 You can read the full summary here, but here’s the gist!

A little over a decade after arriving on earth, Zim’s banishment is reinstated and as a result his entire base and all his equipment is confiscated, leaving him stranded on Earth with no way off the planet and in danger of being caught and killed by the humans. Dib offers him a deal that he’ll hide Zim instead of turning him in in exchange for letting him study Zim. They live together in Dib’s apartment and eventually get used to each other. Loneliness induced affection ensues. Hooray!!

And now for the boys themselves!

My Dib!

- 25, 6′2″, Mexican, cis boy, bisexual, bilingual

- is recovering from depression and anxiety and has ADD and insomnia, has had a nicotine addiction

- has a ton of ear piercings and a few facial piercings, as well as a few tattoos

- is still just as obsessive about his interests as he was as a kid, just with more curbed enthusiasm due to, yknow, depression. researching Zim however brings his enthusiasm back full force. he still sucks at taking care of himself when enthralled with his work but he’s getting there

- runs various blogs, forums, and youtube channels making content about cryptids and conspiracy theories, the ad revenue of which is his main source of income (he dislikes using his father’s money to support himself, but will dip into the family account occasionally)

- is very patient and can communicate and problem solve very well, and is skilled at handling various conflicts and mental issues

- still has his ‘I hate people’ attitude but is more open minded and understanding than he used to be, and more compassionate. he has difficulty trusting strangers but his friends and family are very important to him

- can be moody and dramatic but he’s a big sweetheart at his core

- being friends with Zim has made him more willing to enjoy acting like a huge dork and total weirdo, even in public

My Zim!

- young adult, 5′5″, androgynous presenting demi boy, panromantic demisexual

- has PTSD and anxiety, is recovering with help from Dib

- displays inhuman behavior such as hissing, growling, chirring, chirping, scratching/biting, screeching, territory guarding and dominance displays

- is a demi boy, meaning he identifies as mostly but not completely male, and is more nonbinary than cis, but he’s never given it too much thought because gender is stupid. he has little to no concept and zero regard for human gender roles

- is a SHIT who’s main entertainment is annoying Dib and ‘winning’ arguments, but Dib seems to get harder to piss off as time goes on, much to his confusion

- pitches a fit when he doesn’t agree with/doesn’t want to do something but can be swayed with rewards such as food, sweets, new clothes, video games etc

- rambunctious and high energy, he gets stir crazy often, but since he hates the city he and Dib often take car trips to more fun/nicer places outside the neighborhood

- moody and bratty with skewed logic but smart and more intuitive than he used to be, he’s more than a handful to deal with, but this also makes him the most entertaining person Dib knows

- after having the free time to discover the world of aesthetics, he becomes very much into clothes, make up, accessories etc (be they masculine or feminine) and enjoys making a hobby out of creating a unique self image using fashion (thus also subconsciously asserting his individuality)

- is much more dependent on Dib than he admits (or even realizes)

- his beliefs in nationalism, fascism and genocide are direct results of brainwashing and personality altering programs run by his PAK, and are not actually part of his core personality (these programs will be overridden and deleted eventually)

Side Note: I haven’t thought as far with the other characters but my Gaz and Tak are definitely lesbians 😂

And finally, my tag list!

#my art - things that I drew!

#my post - any post that I posted!

#asks - asks!

#text post - any text post longer than a couple lines!

#video - videos!

#audio - audios!

#canon - content from the show/comic/movie etc!

#creators - any content featuring the IZ cast or crew!

#memes - memes, shitposts, short comics, comedic posts etc!

#friends - friendship art between any characters!

#family - family bonding between the membranes/found family between any characters!

#ships - ship art between adult characters!

#suggestive - any content that could be considered sexual in nature!

#positive - fluff, friendship, wholesome content, uplifting content, characters being happy/cute/having fun etc!

#negative - angst, vent art, violence, mental illness, dark themes, characters fighting/being sad/getting hurt etc!

#kids - content depicting characters as kids/irkens as their canon designs!

#adults - content depicting characters as adults/irkens with noncanon designs!

#millennials - content depicting adult characters that includes any modern culture! (personal fave)

#aesthetic - highly stylized or surreal portraits centered around aesthetic themes!

ship tags!: zadr (zim and dib romance), tagr (tak and gaz romance), rapr (red and purple romance)

friendship tags!: zadf (zim and dib friendship), tagf (tak and gaz friendship), zatf (zim and tak friendship), tadf (tak and dib friendship), zagf (zim and gaz friendship), zag (zim and gir)

character tags!: zim, dib, gaz, tak, gir, red, purple, membrane, skoodge, gretchen, keef, spork, miyuki, recap kid, bg chars, ocs

#i wrote an about since this blog is growing FAST #and i intend on staying active for a long time!!#i'll be using all the new tags from now on!#about #faq #my post

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bangtanfancamp · 5 years

Text

the Devil wears Gucci- Part 2

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Masterlist

▪︎series Masterlist

▪︎Kim Taehyung x reader, feat. Kim Namjoon

▪︎2.2k words

▪︎Enemies to lovers au, fashion industry au, f*ckboy au, fluff, romance, slight angst

As the dedicated personal assistant of the genius mind behind House of RM, the empire that rules the fashion industry, your world is turned upside down the day Namjoon personally asks you to train his newest hire- the eternally insufferable Kim Taehyung.

(photo credit to vantaeholic)

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Taehyung seemed determined to make this situation as difficult as possible.

You figured the easiest way to start the day off was to give him a tour of the building. If he was going to assist you, he at least needed to know where everything was, right? There were so many moving parts to the company - the pace was so fast. No sense letting him get lost in the mailroom basement when he was supposed to be pulling fabric samples on floor 13. At the very least, it was a solid excuse to stall while you tried to come up with a plan for what to do with him because, God, this boy was on such a hormone kick.

You had barely gotten him out of Namjoon’s office before you caught him making shameless eye contact with the new girl Mina whose desk was across the freaking room. The poor girl was blushing so furiously that she was clashing with the bright magenta of her sweater. She’d definitely be a mess for at least the next two days over it.

“All right mister...kim, was it?” You asked, feigning ignorance because his ego seemed big enough all ready.

“All ready forgotten my name ? I didn’t know I’d gotten you that worked up all ready, Princess. It’s Taehyung, but you can call me Tae,” The cockiness smeared across his face repulsed you. Invading your space, he dipped down to whisper ...“unless there’s something else you’d rather be calling me.”

A shameless wink and a flash of teeth later, a shiver rolled down your spine for all the wrong reasons. Ugh, he was gross. You could practically feel the face he was making without even having to look. “I think I’ll just stick to your first name, thanks. Nicknames aren’t really office appropriate.”

“Suit yourself, Jagi.” He smirked.

God, as a matter of fact, nothing about taehyung was “office appropriate.” You kept trying to figure out why he was even here. He had impeccable taste in fashion, that was for sure, but nothing about him made you think it was his idea to work here. He’d been spaced out for most of the tour or checking the phone hidden in the snug front pocket of his ridiculously tight pants.

Cautiously, you risked a glance over at him, trying to assess what his story was. Tae didn’t walk, he glided across the floor - led by his cocky chin and his confident hips. He kept one hand tucked in his pocket as the other rested against his shoulder letting his blazer swing off his fingertips. He’d flirted shamelessly with every woman in the building thus far, including you, and couldn’t seem to keep his tongue inside his mouth. It was always resting right on the edge of his teeth of the corner of his smug lips framed by his insufferable right eyebrow arching high as he surveyed each woman’s reaction to him. God, if he laid it on any thicker you might actually gag. You’d never actually rolled your eyes this many times in one day before. You wondered if that potentially cause any long term damage as you forged ahead, debriefing Taehyung on the history of the company.

“House of RM is a force. This company began as a small clothing line that Namjoon started himself at 17, but now has diversified into so many areas that it is not only at the top of the fashion industry but is also one of the 500 wealthiest companies on the planet. But aside from that, it is also driven by its charitable work. Just last year alone we- hey, are you listening?” You’d noticed as you walked down a hallway lined with floor to ceiling windows that you seemed to have lost his attention- again.

Mother of god, this idiot was fixing his hair in the window.

“Any day now, Taehyung. We have other things to do today.”

“Are you on that list?” The reflection of his eyes darted to meet yours as your patience curdled like hot milk. Are there really women that line would work on? You grimaced.

Ignoring his statement, you pressed on. “I’d like to finish this tour before we both get grey hair, Taehyung.” You sighed, one hand fixed on your waist, weight sinking into one hip. You resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. You felt a headache coming on.

Adjusting the swoop of his bangs across his forehead, He chuckled to himself and you weren't sure why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about trying it actually,” he mused.

“Trying what?”

“Grey hair. Silver, really. I think it’ll really bring out my eyes.”

Dumbfounded at how easily he made everything about himself, you ignored his statement.

“ANYWAY,....you know what. Here. I honestly don’t think you care at all. About anything I’m saying. I don’t even know why your here. So how bout you tell me, hm? Why are looking for a job at house of RM? Let’s get this over with So we can go eat lunch and get a half hour away from each other.” You mumbled the last part under your breath. Or so you thought.

“Aww, you don’t want to eat lunch with me, Jagi? I’m hurt.” he reached forward to pinch your cheek and you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t call me that.” There was that name again. You frowned.

“And only 30 minutes? Aren’t corporate jobs supposed to give you an hour at least?”

“Not to you they don’t. That’s specifically for lunch meetings with clientele and business lunches. Not” poking him in his regrettably firm chest for emphasis, “for the coffee boy.” You turned on your heel and began to saunter away, leaving narcissus to entertain himself.

“Hey! Wait up” he yelped when he noticed how far down the hallway you’d gotten without him. He jogged behind you, trying to catch up. Which didn’t take very long thanks to the stride of his long legs. Sigh. There went your 10 seconds of solitude. “Seriously! wait up.” He leaned a palm on your shoulder once he finally reached you and placed his other hand on his hip while he caught his breath. “Fine. You want a real answer? fine.”

You arched a brow at him curiously, waiting to see how he’d BS his way through this one.

“My uncle okay? He hasn’t exactly been... on board with my “life choices” as of late,” his fingers made quotations in the air. “He Thinks working for someone like Namjoon’ll help get me my shit together. Grow up, be a man, all that. But, I Figure if I’ve got to be here, then I might as well enjoy myself, right?” He shrugged, but there was thinly veiled animosity in his eyes that hadn’t been there all day.

“So he’s trying to scare you straight with a job at a fashion company?” You asked incredulously, arms crossing protectively over your chest.

Taehyung shrugged. “Eh, I think it’s less about what he sells, and more about the how he runs his business. Why let your nephew be a struggling artist when he could be the next self made millionaire before he’s 30?” He snorted at this. Like he’d had to sit through this conversation way more times than he would like.

“Well…. he’s right. Anyone would be lucky to work with a genius like Namjoon. Maybe some of his work ethic will rub off on you,” you said, snappier than you’d meant to. There was no point going soft on him because of some pseudo sob story. Nobody wanted to have to work for a living, and you weren’t about to let him trick you into giving him an easier time. But apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. You’d hit a nerve.

“Geeze, so how long have you been fucking the boss?” He quipped, his tone steely.

You almost choked on your own spit. “EXCUSE ME??”

“Anyone would be lucky to work with a genius like Kim Namjoon. CLEARLY, the man’s either been in your panties or you want him to be. Facts are facts, sweetheart.” He shrugged and walked ahead of you, smug smile growing wider by the second, as you stood there struggling to remember how to speak.

“How d-dare you!” You stumbled. “He is a-a great man and an excellent leader and I-“

“I just want him to finally notice me and let me call him daddy. Yes, daddy Namjoon, I’d be glad to take care of that for you as long as you take care of me first,” Taehyung jeered as a blush so sinisterly scarlet bloomed across your face you swore you must be dying. Finally breaking free from your shock, you marched toward him and spun him around by the shoulder.

“Listen to me, you horrible little brat, If you EVER speak like that to me again...,” the laughter in his irises only fueled your fury as you clutched his dress shirt in your first.

“Calm down, Princess. I saw the way you looked at him.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. One far too sultry for your liking. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

Winking, he removed your hand from his shirt and smoothed over the wrinkles your aggression had created. “And I mean, really, if anyone should be upset here, it’s me. You’re cheating on me all ready with all those naughty lustful thoughts about our boss. Tsk, tsk. I’m hurt,____. Am I all ready not enough for you?” He feigned being wounded and you could already feel vomit coming up the back of your throat.

“You… are disgusting. People worked HARD To be here. To earn a place in this company. You’ve been given an amazing opportunity, and you just want to throw it all away because ‘oh my uncle is making me work?” well guess what? Welcome to the real world!! That’s what adults do! I, for one, worked my butt off to be here- and I don’t need a lazy little scumball punk like you telling me who I am or why I’m here. So Screw you, Kim Taehyung. I’m just trying to do my job. Good luck figuring out yours on your own. I’m done.” Chest heaving, you stared him down.

This idiot would not be the reason you lost the best paying job you’d ever had. And you’d be damned if you were going to stand here and take his behavior lying down. Gritting your teeth, you turned toward the elevators, fully intending to leave his lazy behind in the hallway, when suddenly you felt a feather light touch on your back.

“Hey, it was just supposed to be a joke.” You could hear the smile in his voice faltering even though he tried to chuckle. “Don’t take everything so seriously.”

“Well next time, try to actually be funny then. Cuz that was just a horrible thing to say.” You shook your head, refusing to look back at him.

“Duly noted. Didn’t know you’d be so sensitive.” His words were careless- they should have made you angrier- but without the distraction of his face, you could actually here something that sounded almost like remorse in his voice. “Won’t, uh… won’t happen again, boss lady.”

The elevator opened and you stepped inside, but blocked his path when he tried to follow you. “What are…?”

“Ah, Not today, Kim. I’m eating lunch alone. If you were paying any attention at all to me earlier, then you’ll find the cafe on your own just fine. Meet me in the lobby in 30 minutes for the rest of your training. But I don’t want to see you even a second before then.”

He looked dumbfounded.

You kept a stern demeanor about you until the doors closed. Even once you made it back to your desk to grab the lunch that you’d packed, you kept your composure. Even when Mina stopped by your desk to talk to you about the dreamy new guy.

It wasn’t until you excused yourself to go to the private bathroom that you finally felt yourself begin to crack. You quickly locked the door and leaned against it. It was the only thing holding you up. His words played over and over in your head, and your eyes started to glaze over until slowly, even teardrops began to trickle down your face and splatter onto your cream silk blouse. Crumpling into a ball against the door, you let every last one of them fall.

You hated Taehyung. You hated him for his arrogance, for his refusal to care about anything important, for the careless words he’d thrown at your heart, but most of all for the fact that he’d been able to see right through you...

You did have feelings for Namjoon. Feelings you knew would never go anywhere. Feelings you thought were harmless- private. But if taehyung had been able to pick up on them in his first five minutes in the building, then how long had you been making a fool of yourself in front of the entire staff? In front of Namjoon? God, you were pathetic. How many people knew? How long had this been going around this office? How many of the smiles people had given you were actually them laughing at you? You felt like a joke.

And so you cried.

You cried because you were tired of holding it all together. You cried because you were tired of always trying so hard to be the perfect employee- dressing the part, looking the part, performing the part- and still having to deal with people like Kim Taehyung.

But this was you. You could do this. You were better than this. Rising from the floor, you went to the mirror to clean yourself up. You looked yourself in the eye and drew a deep breath. Splashing some cold water on your face, you made a promise to yourself. Taehyung wouldn’t win this. Whether he kept his job here or not, you wouldn’t let him drive you insane. You would survive this.

No matter how long it took.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

read part 3 here!

Series masterlist

I did it! Part 2 is LIVE!!! Thank you guys so much for your feedback and interest. Im not sure how many posts this is going to become, but I’m all ready pretty far down the rabbit hole with this one and I promise you will love where it’s going. Thanks for popping by! ✨

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mrslittletall · 5 years

Text

Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 3) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein (eventual romance), Dark Sun Gwyndolin Word Count: 2.182 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/41398811 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/180924620904/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-2-fandom-dark

Summary: Tempest and Ornstein aren't happy with Gwyndolin's decision. But it seems they don't have a choice.

(Author’s note: Woah, sorry that this chapter took me so long. I was focusing very hard on another WIP and then on a writing challenge, so that this story got postponed and postponed again. I finally managed to write a chapter that I am satisfied with and I hope you enjoy.)

The dragon slayer was the first to talk.

“I can't.”, he said. “I am hurt.”

Dark Sun Gwyndolin huffed at him: “Ornstein, we have waited for centuries, we surely can wait a few weeks more.” They shifted their attention to Tempest: “Or will you go hollow by waiting alone?”

“...No, that not...”, Tempest said. “But... are you serious? I was asking to give the mission to another Undead. There is one that would be perfect for this task, I know he could do it with ease. So, um.. I don't really get why you want me to carry on, with him in tow,” Tempest pointed at the dragon slayer, “when the next death could be my last.”

“You think I will be in your tow?”, the knight sneered. “Be assured, if we really have to go through with this, you will be the one in MY tow.”

Tempest stepped closer to the bed, in a fit of anger: “I am the Chosen Undead. And I already beat you. Besides, who said that I wanted to team up...” He got interrupted by the soft sound of rhythmical breathing. “He's asleep.”, Tempest noticed, staring at the frame of the dragon slayer.

“It's the medicine, it makes him sleepy.”, the dark sun said. “I haven't asked your name yet.”

“Oh, uh, it is Tempest, like the storm.”, the Chosen Undead said and shifted his attention on the Dark Sun. “I ask once again, you are sure about this? You think him and I should team up? He killed me a dozen times, you know.”

“Well, you will have some time to get to know each other, cause Ornstein clearly needs to heal up first.”, the dark sun said. “Also, you have obtained the lord vessel, that proves that you are worthy. You even managed to find out about this place. I don't think you are as weak as you think.”, they added.

“I don't know.. it all feels so pointless.”, Tempest said. “I think I am just sick and tired of dying over and over again without really dying.”

“Well, then I guess it is fine for you to take a little break too.”, the dark sun said. “But if you want to stay here, it would be nice if you could help around a bit. A good thing to start with would cleaning the puddle in the hallway you came in.”

Tempest was a bit confused: “What puddle?”, he asked, then it hit him. “Oh, that puddle...” He pawed the ground with his feet. “I guess that was kinda my fault somehow... when you stretch it.”

The dark sun raised a catalyst and Tempest instantly braced himself, but relaxed when he saw them conjuring up a bucket and a mop. They also instructed him to a nearby well and once he had grabbed the surprisingly solid made up items, Tempest was off. ___

As soon as the Undead was out of sight, Gwyndolin nudged Ornstein. “Ornstein, wake up for a moment.”, they demanded.

The dragon slayer sleepily opened his eyes. “Huh, what is it?”, he asked. He pulled himself up slowly and looked around. “Where's the idiot?”

“I have send him out, cause we need to talk.”, Gwyndolin said.

Ornstein groaned. “Gwyndolin, do I really have to do this?”, he asked. “I can already see myself having to save this idiot out of all kind of totally obvious traps and what the likes.”

“Ornstein, like I said earlier, we have waited centuries for this moment.”, Gwyndolin sighed. “We have come so close. Finally someone managed to obtain the lord vessel. And then they stumble in here, ready to give up. I don't want to have so worked hard for nothing to achieve. I haven't put you and Smough through this hell for this.”

Ornstein winced at the sound of the executioner's name, averting his gaze from Gwyndolin and staring at the wall.

“I am sorry....”, Gwyndolin said. “That was too soon.”

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Gwyndolin?”, Ornstein asked, gently rubbing at his right temple to fight an oncoming headache, only to feel the thick gaze of the bandages wrapped around his head.

“...It is the only one I have. Ornstein... I know you have been sick and tired from guarding that empty cathedral for so long. And I know you never expected to come back alive out of this and I am so thankful, that you even were willing to give your life for this cause, being loyal to the end. So, please, this is the last thing I will ever ask from you. Make sure that this Undead links the flame and then you are free to go wherever you want.”, Gwyndolin said.

Ornstein had perked up when Gwyndolin spoke. “...Fine, I'll do it then. But I don't do it because I want to and I doubt that I will ever be able to like this idiot.”, he said. “I'll do it for you and Anor Londo. Consider this my last task as a knight of Gwyn.”

“That's the spirit.”, Gwyndolin said. “And, um, Ornstein? If you ever happen to find my brother or my sister, tell them I miss them...”

Ornstein grinned at Gwyndolin: “You already seem to have an idea what I was planning to do, huh? I promise.” He yawned. “But now I think I want to go back to sleep...” Shortly after saying that, the knight had drifted back into his slumber. ___

Tempest stood in the hallway, bucket filled up with water in the left hand, mop in the right hand, staring at the puddle of vomit. “Man, that thing is large.”, he murmured to himself. “At least only seems to be oatmeal or something, easy to clean up.” He put the bucket down, wetted the mob and began the cleaning. In his earlier life he probably would have been repulsed by this, but he had seen far worse things on this journey so far, especially in Blighttown.

“I just hope they won't expect from me to be nothing than their cleaning boy.”, he started to talk to himself. “Hm, but could be better than being a dark moon blade. That sounds scary...”

He stopped in the middle of his cleaning motion, scolding himself: “Tempest, stop talking to yourself, that is weird.”

He finished cleaning the spot, went to empty the bucket out and returned to the room in the dark moon tomb. Dark Sun Gwyndolin was looking up when they heard his footsteps.

“Are you done with the task? Good.”, they said, raised their catalyst and the cleaning supplies in Tempest's hand poofed into nothingness.

“Oh yikes, I am glad I already emptied that out.”, he said. “So, uh, do you want me to do another thing for you?”

“Yes, watch over Ornstein.”, the dark sun said.

“...Wait, what?”, Tempest had a hard time believing what he just had heard.

“I have taken care of him for quite some time now and I am only one person. I need some time to recharge. Watch over him for me for a few hours.”, they stood up and stretched.

“But... what do I do when he wakes up?”, Tempest asked.

“Just do whatever he wants.”, Gwyndolin said, already wiggling away. Tempest watched them vanish into another room.

“Well, great.”, he said and leaned against a wall when they had gone out of sight. At last the dragon slayer was asleep for now, so at least they didn't had to interact. Tempest decided to look around in the room.

It was a room they had entered from the end of the hallway, which had led to the very large coffin of Gwyn, the lord of sunlight. Tempest remembered that it was said that Gwyn wasn't even in this coffin, the tomb was erected more out of honour for their departed lord. And that snake had said something like that Tempest should be the one to succeed Lord Gwyn and take his throne. The dark sun and the dragon slayer knew the lord, right? Maybe he should ask them some questions...

The room he had been led into wasn't very big. There had been a single bed in it where the dragon slayer had laid down in. There was a round table with three chairs around it, he still could spot the tea cups they had drank out of earlier this day. There was a desk with some writing materials, a pot of ink, a quill, some books... In a corner of the room there was the armour of the dragon slayer. Tempest took a few steps toward it to get a closer look.

It looked as majestic as when the dragon slayer had worn it, but also old, as if it had been centuries since someone had smithed it. That probably was the case, Tempest thought. He had fought in the dragon war, right? That is why he was called the dragon slayer in the first place. He could see some slashes and dent in the armour, with a particular bad one in the helmet, must have been the impact of the executioner's hammer. And then, the weapon. The spear that had thrusted through him this many times, laid on the leggings of the golden armour. Tempest bowed down and picked it up, or more tried to pick it up, that thing was HEAVY. He needed both hands to only lift it and even then it felt like an impossible task to swing it. “And he was swinging that thing with one hand.”, Tempest murmured to himself, lowering the spear back down, walking to the bed the dragon slayer currently occupied.

There was a chair next to the bed, it looked like it had been simply removed from the table, cause there was still room for one chair more. Next to the bed was a night stand, on it was an empty cup of tea and a jar with some water. Also, there was a bucket standing next to the bed. Tempest wondered if it was meant for the dragon slayer's bodily functions. Did he even need to do that? That guys weren't human as far as he knew. But when he was able to vomit, that probably meant that he had to eat and that would mean... Tempest shook the thought aside, he didn't want to think about it right now. Instead he took a closer look at the sleeping dragon slayer.

By the lords, he was so HUGE. Tempest knew that there had to be a person under that armour, but he didn't expect the person to be as tall as the armour, even though it made sense in hindsight. It was just... when he wore that armour, it seemed natural to him that the dragon slayer would tower over himself like this, now that he was lying in the bed, he looked like someone who was seriously overgrown. He watched the dragon slayer over carefully. He had a pretty pale skin and was dressed in a purple robe with long sleeves. The features in his face looked surprisingly soft. His eyebrows had kind of a sharp angle to it, but his nose and mouth weren't really pronounced. His eyes were closed right now, so he couldn't make out the colour or shape, but it appeared that they seemed to be pretty large. But what was the most remarking thing about the dragon slayer, was the hair sprouting from his head.

Red as blood, tied into a braid, went it down to his hips, loosely laying on the bed. From the bangs, that got down to his chin and the end of the braid, it appeared that this hair was immensely curly. And Tempest also got a reminder, where he had seen that colour and curls before... it looked exactly like the plume on the armour of the dragon slayer. Tempest turned around to take a look at the plume off the armour, only to see that it wasn't there. The helmet didn't possess a plume at all.

“Wait a minute, does that mean it has been your hair all along?”, Tempest said and bowed above the sleeping dragon slayer, to take a closer look at the braid. Suddenly, he got immensely curious how it felt like. He extended a hand, but quickly withdrew it again as if burned, but then extended it again. “I mean, you are asleep, right?”, he whispered. “I am sure you don't mind...” and grabbed the braid. It was... surprisingly soft. He couldn't help but start to trail along the braid, following every curl and he grew more and more fascinated by it. He was thinking about unbraiding it, see how it looked in all its loose glory, when a hand shot up and pinned his arm in its grab.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”, the dragon slayer asked, glaring at him with an emerald flash in his eyes. Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/182709702159/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-4-fandom-dark

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #chosen undead #dark sun gwyndolin #dark souls oc #orndead #littlewritesstuff #hopefully I can get the next chapter out quicker #hmmm #but I want to go into action already #so the next chapter could turn out longer #sorry for the wait!

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niyes-lahiffe · 6 years

Text

Apparently Love is a Journey: Chapter 4

This chapter isn't exactly on the sappy side, but...MAN it was so fun to write. I never said that this would all be about romance ;)

<<<previous/next>>>

Ao3

Nino certainly hadn't expected the school's topic of the day to be about mythical monsters, much less ghosts. However, as abrupt and random as the topic was, he wasn't complaining at all. He actually loved it when the class decided to talk about things more on the foreign side of school, like love and food instead of politics and math.

Unfortunately, as interesting as the subject was, his mind was too focused on other things, such as the weekend previous and how he had actually kissed Alya. The boy also thought about how beautiful she looked this morning, and though it wasn't like that was anything new, something different came off of the way they smiled at each other and talked before the lesson began. Nino was knocked out of his stupor when the teacher neared the end of her lecture and asked if there were any comments or questions.

Kim of course took the opportunity to smugly announce, "Pah! I'm not afraid of ghosts! All the people in these stories are ridiculous."

"Ghosts don't exist, dummy," Alix snarkily said back, her eyes unamused. "Neither do the people in these stories."

"But that's just what they want you to think, Kubdel!" Kim leaned forward excitedly. "Ghosts do exist and I can prove it!"

The pink-haired tomboy lifted a brow questioningly and said, "Prove it, then."

Kim waved his hand dismissively. "Pffft, not now. I meant later."

"Wasn't Sabrina technically a ghost when she was akumatized?" Max suddenly asked curiously. Sabrina and Chloe turned toward him, their eyes sharp. "I'm not taking sides or anything because this debate is ridiculous, but-"

"Yeah, Sabrina technically was a ghost," Alix said. "But you guys turned into diabolical super villains, so you weren't any better. Mylene was a ten foot tall purple raging monster, but that still doesn't mean that actual monsters- or ghosts- exist."

"I'll prove you wrong, tinkerbell, just you wait!" The moment Kim's sentence was finished, the bell rang at comedic timing. Kim quickly grabbed his stuff and dashed for the door, blocking it so no one else in the classroom could get out quite yet. "Every boy in this classroom is coming with me! Adrien, Nino, Ivan, Nathaniel, and Max." He pointed at each boy respectively, and Nino felt a sense of dread when Kim's finger landed on him. "We're going to my house and prepping for a ghost hunt."

Adrien and Nino shared a concerned look but, both knowing they couldn't change the stubborn Kim's mind, they grabbed their bags and followed the athlete, along with the other boys, out the door nonetheless. "Be careful out there!" Mm. Bustier called after them.

"You're all ridiculous," Chloe muttered as she and Sabrina trailed out of the classroom once the boys had disappeared.

The rest of the girls were gathering around Marinette's desk, already knowing a plan was forming in the bluenette's mind simply by the playful smirk on her face.

"We're crashing their party, right?" Alya pompously asked her best friend.

"Duh."

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

The girls were gathered in the Forest of Fontainebleau, setting up the things they had created when they were at Marinette's house a few hours previous. It took them a good while to travel to the forest but they knew that this would be so worth it. Alya had been texting Nino and he was the one who informed them where the boys would be headed for their little 'ghost hunt'. When she told told the girls this, Marinette had exclaimed, "You've been texting Nino?! When did this happen? More importantly, you're not telling him our plans, are you?"

Alya laughed in response. "Relax, girl, I didn't tell him anything except that we're planning something. I refuse to tell him any more than that. He was just nice enough to tell us where the boys will be going soon, so I personally think we should thank him later."

"After we scare him and the others out of their socks, of course!" Rose had said excitedly.

Now they were here, setting up their glow-in-the-dark ghost props in the trees as the sun starting setting, sending almost ominous purples and pinks throughout the sky. This was almost too perfect.

It was then that Alya had a brilliant epiphany.

"Hey, Marinette?" When Marinette turned to Alya curiously, she continued, "I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Marinette's face contorted in disgust. "The bathroom? We're in the middle of the forest, Alya! There's no place to go to the bathroom."

"That's quitter talk." Alya giggled at her best friend's repulsed expression. "Don't worry, girl! I'm not afraid to go to the bathroom in the middle of the forest. People have done it before; it's no big deal." With that, she shrugged and ran away, smiling to herself. Of course she wasn't going to the bathroom.

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

"YOU BETRAYER!"

Nino squawked when Kim tackled him head on, falling to the floor in a heap of wheezed breath and tangled clothes. "What did I do?!" Nino squeaked, barely able to get the words out due to loss of air.

Kim placed his hand firmly on Nino's chest to keep him pinned there, getting up slightly to glare at the DJ. "You've been texting the girls!"

"I've been texting a girl," Nino responded as he grabbed Kim's wrist. In a sudden and swift movement, Nino had Kim affixed to the floor, gently but firmly squishing his friend's cheek against the carpet. "And what's so wrong with that, anyway?"

"Dude, how did you do that?" the other boy rasped. He tried squirming away but Nino had no mercy. He grunted, "This is a boys night! No girls allowed!"

Nino raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, why didn't you just say so, dude?" He stood up as Kim took a few gasping breaths, the athlete weakly getting to his feet as well. "I would've put my phone away."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kim muttered as he dusted his shirt off with his hands.

"Kim, we might want to be leaving soon," Max interrupted. "I'm still puzzled as to why you chose the Forest of Fontainebleau to go ghost hunting, as it is a fair distance from here to there, but it's already starting to get dark." He used his head to point to the window, the sky outside beginning to turn dark.

Kim nodded. "Right. Let's get a move on, then!"

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

The girls jumped when they heard a rustle in the tree above them and, when they looked up, they were more than surprised to be greeted by a specific orange super heroine.

"Rena Rouge?" Alix said disbelievingly. "What are you doing here?"

Rena comfortably settled herself on a large branch as the rest of the girls gathered around the tree to greet the hero. "I could ask you the same thing, small fry," she winked, smirking at how Alix obviously did not like the nickname. "I decided to go wandering a bit during patrol. I recognize quite a few faces here so I know you're not around these parts. I was just wondering what all this stuff is for." She pointed at the surrounding props hanging from the trees, the glow-in-the-dark starting to become more prominent in the setting sun.

"We're giving the boys in our class the scare of their lives!" Alix said eagerly, nearly bouncing with giddiness.

"It's gonna be awesome," Juleka chided coolly.

"We made these masks that we're gonna use to jump scare them!" Rose squeaked delightedly. She held up the mask she created as an example, the surface of the mask far too big for any of their faces, adding to the hilarity and the spookiness. Her mask was covered in pink and yellow, unsurprisingly, but it still sent a chill down anyone's spine who looked at it.

Rena nodded, a smile on her face as she placed her fingers on her chin. "How 'bout I help?"

"You would do that?" Mylene happily asked.

"Of course! Boys are stupid. I'm sure you guys have good reason to be here."

Alix agreed, "Yeah, Kim's an idiot. He believes that ghosts are real."

"That name sounds familiar...isn't he that one boy that challenged a panther to a race?" Rena inquired as she laughed inwardly. Her dad had been livid the day he was akumatized, coming home from his work with the biggest scowl she had ever seen.

"Like I said. Idiot."

Rena Rouge leaped down from the branch she was perched on with a grunt before she grabbed the illusion-making flute off her back. "I'd be happy to help. With my little friend here, we'll be able to scare those boys so bad that they'll be begging for mercy."

"Your flute's power is to create illusions, right?" Marinette asked. Her smile grew when Rena nodded. "That's perfect!"

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

The sun was barely above the horizon now, the soft pinks and oranges slowly beginning to fade into deep purples and blacks. The Forest of Fontainebleau was surprisingly quiet as the boys continued to venture deeper into the woods, the crunch of their shoes stepping on twigs and leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl being the only noises that disturbed the great grove.

"I can't believe I let you guys drag me into this..." Nathaniel murmured, only to be hushed quite harshly by the others.

The eerie atmosphere of the place sent unconditional chills down Nino's spine as he and the others hiked further and further into the deep wood, each boy accompanied only with a flashlight. Nino had expected the 'ghost hunt prepping' at Kim's house to be more than just grabbing a few flashlights and spending the rest of the time watching ghost movies. He couldn't help but agree with Nathaniel. This whole shindig was nothing more than straight-up ridiculous. Of course ghosts didn't exist. Everyone here except Kim knew that, but no one could escape said boy's stubbornness.

Adrien suddenly squeaked. Every boy turned around sharply and pointed their flashlights at the model, who was seemingly panting with relief once his expression could be read. "I-uh-I thought I saw something...but I guess not." At his assurances, everyone else shrugged and continued to trudge forward.

"SHH!" At Kim's abrupt command, everyone stopped walking. They were silent for a moment before he continued, "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Oh, jeez, where did this fog come from?" Nino waved his hand in front of himself in an attempt to blow the sudden fog away, but it only seemed to grow thicker as he did so. At each passing second, he could see his friends, who were only mere steps in front of and behind him, less and less. "Uhhh, you guys?"

And that's when chaos ensued.

The fog vanished as though it were nothing, and there were these absolutely terrifying creatures in its place. Their expressionless faces were ginormous, and they leaped down from the trees and began wailing.

All Nino could hear was screaming. He didn't know if it was him who was screaming or the other boys around him, probably both, but loud cries of fear was all his brain could pay attention to as he tried finding something to grab onto in all the ruckus.

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

The girls pulled their masks off and grabbed their flashlights to look at their targets eagerly, and once they could see, they were anything but disappointed.

The boys were in absolutely hilarious positions: Ivan, who was surprisingly emotionless, was carrying a very petrified Max in his arms as Nathaniel clung onto the buff boy's neck for dear life. Kim was full-out on the floor, his eyes as wide as saucers and his limbs stuck in positions that looked quite uncomfortable, and Adrien and Nino were clinging onto each other as though their lives depended on it.

The girls suddenly exploded into roaring fits of laughter, ranging from cute hics and giggles to full-on ugly guffawing. Alix clutched her chest and fell back to the floor as she wheezed, kicking her feet in the air. Alya had to hold herself onto Marinette in order to prevent herself from dropping to the floor, as well, and Mylene was leaning forward and snorting uncontrollably. Rose and Juleka weren't laughing as hard as the others but they still had their fair share of tears shed.

"You should've seen the looks on your faces!" Alix gasped as she slowly got up from the ground. "KIM! I didn't know you could scream like that!"

"HA!" Kim suddenly exploded, causing all the boys around him to jump again. He quickly got off the floor and pointed at the short girl, his grin cocky though he was still panting and shaking from the previous scare. "In your FACE, Alix Kubdel!"

Her expression went from smiling unconditionally to perplexed in less than a second. "Wha-?"

"Ghosts actually DO exist!" He folded his arms and looked at her smugly. "You juuust missed 'em."

Alix stomped up to him, a 4 foot ball of pure rage now. "You idiot!" she hissed. "That was us! How could you not-I'm gonna- UGH- I'm gonna...kick you in the shin...-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, tinkerbell!" Kim grabbed the top of her head with one hand and used what was left of his strength to push her away slightly, though she still complained loudly and thrashed her hands towards the barely empty space in front of her. "What do you mean 'us'?"

"What she means," Alya interrupted confidently before Alix could start throwing curses, finally able to catch her breathe, "is this whole 'ghost ambush' thing was planned by none other than us." She gestured to the girls around her, all of whom were also starting to calm down.

"Still a shame that you guys missed Rena Rouge," Marinette chimed in. "She helped us."

"Rena Rouge was here?" Nino asked, surprised.

"Yup," Alya replied, walking up to the boy. She sighed dramatically as she wrapped her arm around his waist, his own hand coming to her waist, as well. "It's a real shame, for I missed her, too. That's what I get for going to the bathroom in the middle of a forest, I guess."

She didn't exactly know what her and Nino's status was currently. They weren't boyfriend/girlfriend, but they were definitely more than friends at the moment.

She tried to ignore the very confused but also smug look Marinette was giving her.

Nino chuckled. "What a shame indeed." He suddenly playfully pushed Alya away and she yelped, barely able to catch her feet. "You scared the living snot out of me, though! How cold you?"

"You guys deserved it," Alix said smugly. Kim had stopped trying to prevent her from hitting him so she took the moment to give the boy a playful look before kicking his calf swiftly, giggling manically as he grabbed his leg and complained loudly.

"Kim," Max said, walking up to said boy who was now rubbing his bruised leg. "There's something I have to tell you."

"What?" he grunted.

"Ghosts don't exist."

#miraculous ladybug #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #djwifi #classmates #le chien kim #max kante #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #alix kubdel #apparently love is a journey #fics #my fics

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi :) I... really wanna read a fanfic or two but I can't find one I vibe with xD So... do you know one that's not too long (around 100k words maybe), has hurt and comfort, smut (am I allowed to ask about that?? Ahhhh) and a happy ending? Top!lock would be a bonus but it's not necessary. And if it's a nice AU (like... any kind but no crossovers pls), it would be perfect! :D By the way, I found your blog only a few hours ago and I already feel really comfy and Idk, kinda at home here ^-^

Hi Nonny!!!

Welcome to my corner of the Tumblrsphere!!! I’m so happy you’ve found me, LOL, because I love all my followers and friends! <3

First of all, I think it’s super cute that “not too long” to you is “around 100K” LOL LOL LOL!!! <3 That said, I’d argue all my fic recs are fabulous, LOL. But again, I’m stupidly proud of the wonderful lists I’ve accumulated, because it satisfies my organization kink LOL. And yes, you’re ALWAYS allowed to ask for smut here LOL.

ANYWAY, so I’m gonna use this ask as an excuse to post up a long-overdue part two to my 50 to 100K fic list! But first, here’s some past lists for the genres you’re looking for:

FIC MASTER PAGES: PG1 || PG 2 || PG 3

Toplock (Mar 2020)

Omegaverse

Please Check PG 3 for all my AU fic lists. There’s a lot :)

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 1: Under 5K Words

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 2: 5K to 10K Words

Fandom Favourites / Popular Fics

I hope those will get you started! So now, here’s the main event!! Hope you enjoy them!

50 - 100 K WORDS Pt. 2 (Novel Length)