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jotaroslooseeyebrowhair · 1 year

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(Un)Dead Beat Dad (Chapter 4)

Warnings: some mentions of medical care, also domestic fluff cause im a SLUT for Dad!Jason and his son Chap 3 Chap 5

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Sitting up with a start, Danny readied an ectoblast in his hand, lurching forward in pain at using his powers. He clenched his burning palm to his chest, his core ached but his hand felt as if someone had shot a blast and he had caught it with his bare palm. Danny sucked in a deep painful breath and counted in his head until the pain was more bearable. He listened closer and heard a string of curses from what sounded like the kitchen, and huffed a small laugh at that. Danny carefully shifted the blankets off him and walked to the door, stuffing his hand in his pocket. He reached up and pulled the door open silently, walking towards where the cinnamon smell came from. He turned the corner and saw Red Hood in the kitchen in normal clothes, making something good smelling at the stove. Danny thought for a moment and padded his way over to the tall man, and tugged on his grey sweatpants. The man jumped and turned, looking down at the small kid in front of him. Danny saw Red Hoods bare face and let out a chirp from his core, throwing his hands to his eyes and spinning around.

The man huffed a laugh, smiling, “It’s okay, kid. I know your name and face so it’s only fair, right?”

The man crouched down and carefully tugged Danny’s shoulder, turning him around and pulling his hands down slowly, “My name’s Jason, Jason Todd. I’m 20 years old and I'm also Red Hood. Nice to meet you.”

The man, er, Jason stuck his hand out for him to shake. Danny stuck his small hand into Jason's, his fangs pushing through his close-lipped smile. Jason shook his hand and stood back up, turning to what he was making on the stove.

“All I’ve got right now for food you can eat is oatmeal, that okay?” Jason turned to Danny as he nodded his head. Danny spun around and walked over to one of the tall counter chairs, grunting trying to pull himself up, one leg on a peg on the chair, Can’t fly up, fuck, what am I supposed to do? He felt two hands grab him and slowly lift him up to the chair. He turned and saw Jason standing there, two bowls of cinnamon oatmeal on the counter.

He slid one over to Danny with a small spoon in it, “remember to blow on it, it’s hot.” Danny looked down at the oatmeal confused, thinking about what had happened with Jason since yesterday. Danny tilted his head in confusion and looked up to Jason, lifting his hands up.

‘Why are you helping me?’ Danny signed. Jason paused for a moment, a spoon hanging from his mouth. He pulled it out and set the spoon back in the bowl.

“Well, I saw you were hurt and needed help that I was able to give you, so I’m gonna help you however I can,” Jason stared into his bowl for a moment, glancing up at the boy in front of him, “Do you… hm. Danny, do you have somewhere to go? Someone I can call?”

Danny looked down at his lap, wringing his hands together. He thought of his paren- Jack and Maddie, thought of Jazz, thought of Sam and Tucker. Jazz was off at college and likely didn’t even know he was gone. Best not to bother her, she got out. Jazz got a normal life, that's all Danny could have wanted, he can’t drag her back into his ghostly shit just because he needs help. Sam and Tuck though, he doesn't know what happened with them. The day he told Jack and Maddie he texted them, telling them to come over so they could celebrate because his parents took it well! All they did was go down to their lab after giving him a kiss on his forehead, that deserved a little celebration! But, Sam and Tuck never came. Not that day, not when Jack and Maddie drugged and dragged him down to the basement, no, lab, and not when he was screaming, crying, begging for them to stop please stop-

A single glowing tear fell down Danny’s cheek. He lifted a shaking hand and signed out a ‘no’ Jason bit his lip and sighed, reaching forward and ruffling Danny’s hair, pulling him away from his thoughts before he could spiral anymore. Jason had been there before, that kid didn’t need to. He looked up through his messy bangs at Jasons soft smile.

“Well, if you’d like, I have a spare room you can stay in for now, only as long as you want, of course.” Jason said softly, bring his arms back to fold them against the table. Danny stilled for a moment, thinking about what Gotham had said the night before. She said Jason was safe, and she trusted him. Hmm. Well, Danny could always use his powers against Jason if he really needed to, he really hopes he doesn't so, he guesses he’ll be okay. Danny nods and smirks at Jasons clear smile. Jason nods and nudges the oatmeal at Danny again, “Eat up kid, before it gets cold.”

Danny looks down at it and sniffs it, trying to smell for anything out of the ordinary. Smelling nothing, Danny lifts the slightly-too-big spoon to his mouth and tastes it- oh, it’s good. Danny freezes and looks up towards Jason in shock, his face making Jason duck his head in laughter

‘How?’ Danny signs, confused

Jason laughs again, “Pretty good, huh?” Danny nods and swallows the bit in his mouth, greedily scooping for more. “Yeah, Alfie taught me everything I know about cooking. He and I made a lot together- oh hey, Danny, slow down” Jason stared at Danny’s puffed cheeks full of food. Danny winced as he swallowed, sheepishly smiling at Jason. He lifted his hands with a blush, ‘my favorite, how did you know?’ Jason smiled “Don’t worry about that kid.” They continued eating in silence.

Jason looked at Danny's hair again, it was matted and bloody, far overdue for a wash. He thought for a moment, “Is it alright if we wash your hair up after this?”

Danny thought for a moment, pulling his hair down to see, and ew, he looked towards Jason and nodded, scooping the last bit of oatmeal into his mouth. Jason grabbed the empty bowls and brought them to the sink, rinsing them off and tossing them into the dishwasher. He turned around and walked over to Danny, “Mind if I pick you up? You really shouldn’t be moving around too much, with your injuries.” Danny nodded and Jason reached down, carefully pulling Danny onto his hip and walking towards the bathroom, pulling a chair with his free hand.

Once they got to the bathroom, Jason carefully placed Danny on the chair, leaning it back against the sink and using his foot as a stopper so it didnt fall. He looked down at Danny, sitting there pulling on his fingers.

“Got any temp preference?” He asked. Danny looked up and shook his head no, so Jason just nodded and turned the water on, struggling with the handles for a moment before he found the right temperature. He sat Danny a bit higher on the chair and laid a washcloth on the edge of the sink so it wouldnt hurt his neck. Jason leaned Danny’s head back and started scooping water onto his hair, using his fingers to gently comb through it and pull out large chunks of blood and… something else out as he went. Jason had ended up using shampoo three times to wash out Danny’s hair, and ending with a little conditioner to keep his hair soft (Jasons not an animal, okay? Properly separating shampoo and conditioner is very important) and, finally, used a towel to pat Danny’s head softly. He looked down at the boy in front of him, who had fallen asleep at some point. Jason smiled softly and huffed a small laugh, gently tapping his shoulder to wake him up. His eyes flung open and he stared at Jason for a moment, before relaxing again.

“All finished in here. What do you say about heading out to the living room and watching a movie? I’ll make some hot cocoa?” Jason offered up. Danny seemed to think about it for a bit before nodding at him, a nervous smile on his face. Jasons smile widened a bit as he picked up the boy and carefully brought him to his couch with a towel, setting Danny down and picking up the remote. “So, what do you wanna watch?”

Danny perked up, lifting his hands signing ‘Dead Teacher 4’ excitedly.

“Oh? And whats that movie about?” Jason asked, but he felt stupid since it was in the name

‘Zombies’ Danny signed with a smile on his face.

“Well, I’m not exactly the first person I would ask, but personally, I dont think a zombie horror movie about school teachers is appropriate for a six year old.” Jason sighed out. Danny pouted.

‘But I’ve already seen it, and I know about your work as Red Hood. And!’ He signed with purpose, ‘if it gets too scary you can turn it off, right?’ he stuck out his bottom lip and gave his best puppy eyes as he tried to plead to the crime lord who once dropped several severed heads in a duffle bag on a table as an intimidation tactic, who got training to become a proffessional assassin, who has aquired a very high confirmed kill count, wo has ended lives without a second thought and who is running a large portion of Crime Alley as they speak. The very same crime lord who seemed to be breaking by the second.

Jason sighed after a moment and held up the remote to point at Danny, “Fine. But no games, alright? You said it yourself, if I think It’s too scary for you to be watching them its getting turned off immediately.” Danny gave a toothy smile as Jason turned to get the movie started with a sarcastic huff. Hell yeah! His parents never would’ve let him watch that, not even Jazz and he always had to go with Sam and Tucker and he had to- oh. Right. Dannys face fell as he stared at the ground. He wearily pulled one of his legs up to his chest as he thought about his family. Well, what was left of it, if there even was anything. A hand laid itself softly on his shoulder.

“How are you, kid?” Jason asked, the movie ready on the tv behind him, huh, he’d been lost in his head longer than he thought. Danny looked down at the floor again, trying to clear the thoughts from his head. Jason seemed to notice and stood, grabbing a blanket before draping it over Danny, the warmpth encompassing him. It took another minute or two of Jason’s grounding hand on his shoulder and his own fingers running over the soft blanket over him before he looked back up at Jason and smiled, ‘better now’

“Thats good to know. You ready for the movie?” he nodded and Jason smiled in response, pacing towards the kitchen. “So, kid, how do you like your hot chocolate? Water, milk, sweet, bitter, with peppermint, what’cha thinkin?” He looked back towards Danny over the counter, who was looking at him like he just offered him a lifetime supply of candy.

‘It can have all that?’ Danny signed with wide eyes. Okay, they’re definitely trying every single one. Theres no way he could possibly live with the Jason Todd without knowing his favorite hot cocoa recipe, especially without knowing you could make so many different kinds? Alfred would simply die if he heard of it. Jason only smiled though and winked at Danny.

“You bet kid, I’ll make my personal recipe and you tell me what you think, yeah?” Jason looked up from where he was grabbing a cutting board and saw Danny eagerly nodding his head. Well, He can’t just leave a kid like that, so he got to work. Throwing a pot of milk on the stove to boil, throwing a bit of chopped up chocolate, sprinkling in some cinnamon, When it was done melting together, he laid down a small piece of homemade fudge-leftover from his last visit to the manor- into each mug before pouring in the chocolatey mix and letting it melt the fudge for a few minutes. He then added a bit more milk to cool it down, and topped it with some mini marshmallows.He waited until the hot chocolate was at a safe temperature for Danny before bringing them over, it seemed like the movie hadn’t even started yet. “What, not interested anymore?” He joked as he handed the warm mug to the small kid. He shook his head and brought up a hand, ‘waiting for you’. Jason stilled at that. If his heart felt like it grew a few sizes, well that for him to know. Jason set his cup down on the table next to the couch and started the movie, walking around to behind Danny.

“I’m gonna try and dry off some of your hair, though it seems pretty good now.” Jason stared for a moment and thought. Danny’s hair was long, Before when it was messy and matted with blood, it had looked short. But once clean it was clear how long it really was, down to his shoulders in some spots. He didn’t think anything of it but now that he could really watch Danny, he saw that he was constantly pushing it out of his eyes and glaring at it, huffing and moving it and... yeah, Danny didn’t like it. He thought for a moment. “Hey, kid, I know im not exactly a hair stylist or anything, but would you like me to cut your hair?” Danny spun around, confusion on his face. “If you don’t want me to it’s fine, no big deal okay-” He was cut off by Danny waving his hands around in front of him, stopping for a moment to think before signing, ‘I don’t like it long.’ his hands stilled a moment in thought, ‘please, cut it’ And even if Jason knew he would butcher it, he couldn’t say no to that face. Jason smiled and walked into his kitchen, grabbing a pair of scissors and returning with the smile still on his face.

“How short do you want it kid?” He asked. Danny thought for a moment and held his fingers up, pinched not too far apart from eachother. Jason nodded to him completely serious, “I’ll see what I can do for ya.” Jason said mocking a hair stylist. Truth be told he was nervous, he had never cut someone elses hair before, but he was a strong hard-working vigilante who had taken down insanely strong criminals before, how hard could a haircut be?

Hard, apparently, as he was cutting off pieces here and there, doing what he could to keep it even and at the length Danny asked, he got to the side of Danny’s head when he barely missed the kids ear. His pointed ear. His breath hitched and Danny’s ear twitched. Looking up at him in confusion, tilting his head like a confused puppy at Jason, who just smiled and patted his head. “Almost done, kid.” He had to be careful not to clip the kids ear, but god there’s gonna be so much hair on his couch for weeks after this. Jason finished it up and stood back, he thinks he did alright! Okay fine, he did okay, but Danny won’t mind all too much, right? Jason stepped around to look at Danny in front of him, smiling when danny let out small noises of complaint when he couldn’t see the movie. Dannys messy-wavy hair definitely made the hairstyle look better. Jason smiled and ruffled his hair, walking back to the kitchen to grab a lint roller from his bullshit-drawer and walking back over to danny, using a few sheets to clean up the boy and his couch, god his couch.

Jason tossed the sticky wrappers and checked the time, seeing that it was about when he should play doctor and check on Danny. He walked into his room where hes been holding everything while he cares for Danny throughout the hours, grabbing the materials and bringing them into the room with the small boy. He stepped in front of Danny and sat on his knees, looking up at the boy.

“I gotta and clean you up a bit, sound good?” He asked Danny. Danny looked down and pulled his shirt up, leaning back into the couch. “Alright, I’ll try and be careful but you tell me if anything hurts, okay?” Danny nodded.

Jason pulled the small bulb at the end of the tube and drained it into a red solo cup, squeezing it and attatching it back to the tube. He pulled off the old gause and grabbed some new pieces, using a wet washcloth to dab around the insertion of the tubes before taping new gause on again. Using this time to really see Danny’s skin up close without him panicking, he could see all the small bruises and cuts deep in his skin. Jason huffed and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. Standing up and grabbing everything he brought over, he tookit to the trash and washed his hands. He walked back over and sat next to danny, warning the boy before massaging his legs for him, both groaning at bad parts in the movie and talking about how the movie is really just so bad it’s good.

The movie finally finished and Jason and Danny sat on the couch, pissed by the cliffhanger the movie left them on.

“Oh come on, you can’t just tease us like that!” Jason yelled at the TV.

‘Exactly! And we aren’t even sure if there’s going to be another one! It’s bullshit!’ Danny huffed as he signed,

“Language, kid. But yeah, you’re right it’s bullshit.” Jason leaned back into the couch, worn down from all the times his friends and family came over, from the times he crashed on the couch instead of his bed, of being used for so long that it creaked at the slightest movement. He needs a new couch. With a huff he leaned foreward and grabbed the remote, going to turn the TV off, when Danny tapped his arm to get his attention, signing to him.

‘What’s your favorite movie?’

Huh. He really didn’t watch a lot of movies. Books, yeah he could talk about them for hours but movies? He never really watched them. Hmm. Well, when he was robin he dragged Dick into watching The Princess Bride together when Dick was on about “brotherly bonding”. Why would Danny ask?.

“Well, I like The Princess Bride. Why?” Jason asked, confused.

Danny looked at his lap and squirmed for a second, and Jason had thought he had said something wrong until the boy raised his hands again, ‘Let’s watch it, so we know each others favorite movies.’ Jason smiled at that.

“Sure thing, kiddo.” He opened up Dicks Disney+ account he stole the password to and started the movie, pretending not to notice when Danny started nodding off next to him. Once Danny had slumped his head, Jason reached over and softly tucked Danny’s head into his side, rubbing small circles into his back. And if Danny started making rumbling noises from his chest and curling his small body into Jasons side? Well, Jason wouldn’t ask or tell.

Edit: ao3 link

Roach list:

@starkcravingmad @terzatheunderscorerima @sunsetdew0101 @onyxlightdragon @ace-aro-agenderr @roseinbloom0202 @aikoiya @blacksea21090 @the-legal-shipper @paperlicense687 @cursedchaosboys @corfinnsunrise @ascetic-orangee @eonic @frostedthroughghost @readerkayden @reach-for-the-horizon @xno-more-smilesxx @undead-essencee @bluebeariis @chaoticchange @cloudminder @meep52 @may-rbi @kyrianclawraith @thefanficcup @justwannaseesomebrozawa @pastalavistamf @dodekakophonie @seraphinedemort @seraphichana @keegan-parkerr @mimilikey @im-da-bronx @asrielstars @sweet-itachi-lovin @09shell-sea09 @tinybrie @wolfeyedwitch @lilac-lanedy @ashenfairytale @thelitteralestmood @mady-is-ace-trash @crazylittlemunchkin @idontwhatonamemyself @lazy-bouqet @emeraudesfateandfandoms @ae-vixrose @skulld3mort-1fan @mentalcarebear @jaxinkh @honeyrydernot @everything163 @omegasmileyface

#UnDead Beat Dad #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #red hood #dpxdc #dp #dp au #jason todd #dp x dc #ghost king danny

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the-fly-on-bangchans-wall · 2 months

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ok author-kairo is back!

this is another chapter of There’s No Way for all of you <3

i also didnt proofread this so pls dont mind any grammar/spelling/other mistakes lol

chap. 2:

a/n: i dont really know anything about college so please forgive me if this is slightly inaccurate 😭

You wake up at a solid 6 A.M., slipping into a comfortable but stylish top and cargo pants. This is your first day of university, first day of music college. You take a deep breath-why am I nervous?-and slip on your schoolbag, having packed it with everything you need for today last night. Getting in your car, you turn the music to your favorite playlist, nodding your head to the beat as you hype yourself up for the day. Taking a detour to the nearest café that was open, you went inside and nodded respectfully to the young man behind the counter.

His name was Niki, he had told you, and he was strangely comforting. Maybe it was because he always worked the morning shift when you stopped by the café almost every morning, around 6:30-7:00 A.M. You took comfort in things that were steady and unchanging, so Niki was a welcomed acquaintance. Handing him some money (he had taken your order enough times to know what you were getting) he smiled at you as you received your cup of black coffee with half-and-half cream.

“I’ve got my first day of uni today, I do,” you say, meeting his curious gaze.

Niki tilted his head. “Really? Where do you go?”

“Seoul National. I heard they had a really good music program, so that’s where I’m going.” You snorted. “I actually didn’t think I’d get in.”

“I bet you could get into any university you set your mind to. Anyways, good luck at uni!” Niki smiled one more time before turning back to the counter; another customer had walked in. You took your coffee and got back into your car. Taking a deep breath, you looked over your schedule for the millionth time and started driving out to the university’s campus, blasting your music along the way.

It looked like you’d gotten to the classroom early, because only one other person was there. She was really pretty, you thought to yourself, with black hair in a neat wolfcut. She was currently scrolling on a laptop, but when you pushed the door open, she looked up, studying your features before offering a small smile.

“Hey, you! Come sit over here.” She instructed, patting a spot to the left of her. You felt almost compelled to do so, setting your bag on the table and sitting in the chair she’d pulled over.

“What’s your name?” she questioned.

“y/n l/n. What’s yours?”

“I’m Ryujin. You’re also here for music, hm?” You nodded in response. “Cool! I’m kinda new to this but I’ve been told I have a knack for it. How about you?”

You shrugged. “It used to be a hobby, but I wanted to take it further…I think I could be really good at it, if I learned some more techniques.”

Ryujin nodded. She seemed like a really good friend-she was listening to your every word even though you’d just met her. She made you subconsciously comfortable with her. You and the raven-haired girl made some small talk, learning more about each other while students filled up the seats. There were only a few seats in the back left, and you stopped mid conversation to stare in horror.

Bang Chan was at your university.

Bang Chan was at your university?

What. is. happening? You thought he wouldn’t know! Besides, why would he even have an interest in music? The devil boy met your gaze, smirking when he saw the flabbergasted expression on your face, and sat down in the back, two rows directly behind you. Great, now you’d feel like he was staring at you the whole class. The thought made you nervous. Wait, why are you nervous? He’s your enemy, not a crush or anything. There’s no way he’d be your crush, anyways, according to him you’re too ugly. You just hoped maybe he’d leave you alone for university.

a/n: should i make my chapters longer? idk if theyre too short rn 😭

#bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids

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seo-talks · 2 years

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my secret garden ( ʚɞ ) chapter 10 : sweet as cake

don’t forget to read the written part below! // word count : 556

jungwon had been thinking about jakes words for days. he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, hearing them speak about you in such a way, but it made his blood boil a little too much for his liking. despite not wanting to listen to his hyung’s advice and words, he still can’t help but replay those words over and over again in his mind.

‘she seems kinda fake’

‘she’s always with park jeongwoo’

‘she liked heeseung hyung’

those words wouldn’t leave his mind for days on end, and even as he’s sitting in a remote cafe at the end of town, the words won’t leave him alone.

jungwon looked around the cafe and realization hit him like a truck, he knew this place. it was your families bakery. the one where the two of you worked on your paper together for hours on end. the one where he met your parents at just days prior. he suddenly felt sick, like he shouldn’t be here with his own friends, like he was somehow ruining what he had with you. whatever that may be.

more under the cut!

“you look kinda sick won, you okay?”

he snapped out of his thought at the sound of jays worried voice “hm? oh i’m fine”

none of the boys seemed to be convinced but brushed it off as they looked at the menu trying to decide what they all wanted. “oh look at the special, carrot cake, it looks cute we should get a piece”

“sunoo who even likes carrot cake?”

“excuse me i do!”

jungwon zoned out, ignoring the bickering happening around him. he had too much to think about at this moment, seeing you, being with his friends, his developing ‘feelings’ or whatever they are. he felt conflicted and didn’t like it one bit.

‘am i just going crazy? it must be that yea’

“i’m gonna find a bathroom” he muttered before standing up and walking away from the table his friends sat at. walking all the way to the back of the store he leaned against the nearest wall to catch his breath and calm his thoughts.

“jungwon?”

snapping his head up he felt his heart speed up, it was you, he couldn’t tell if he was excited or nervous to see you again in person. “oh yn, hey”

the two of them fell into conversation almost naturally, like they have always been close friends and have never spent a day apart. jungwon liked this, he wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable but he wasn’t exactly complaining.

“yn! can you come here and help me with new customers?”

jungwon scowled at the sound of park jeongwoo’s voice and almost immediately glared at his figure as it came into the small hallway you and him were crammed into. why did he always have to show up and ruin everything?

“of course woo!” you exclaimed linking your arm with the other boy and barely sparing junwgon another glance.

“seriously..” he grumbled slumping back to his friends and sinking into his seat

“hey wonie we got you some of the carrot cake try some” said sunoo holding up a fork for the younger boy to eat off of

jungwon just sat quietly staring off in the distance at you and jeongwoo, wondering where he went wrong and why you always choose him.

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. . NOTES⌇not super sure on this chap but it goes more interesting after this!! trust me on that lol i swear 😭. i hope it’s enjoyable so far though, i’m enjoying this au a lot!

. . SYNOPSIS⌇you’ve only seen jungwon from afar, being worlds apart there was no need for a popular and non-popular to interact. when you’re assigned as desk mates for the year what will happen? will you find solace in one another or just tear each other down?

. . TAGLIST⌇[status open!] @beo3gyu @hiqhkey @love-4-keum @rrvvby @mellifluousvn @lil-iva @myjellyboo @lovnayeon @butterflyy-ningg @mqndnolia @pr0dbeomgyu @soobins-gf @viagumi @i-yeseo

#my secret garden #jungwon smau #enhypen smau #jungwon social media au #enhypen social media au #jungwon x yn #jungwon x reader #jungwon #yang jungwon #enhypen x yn #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enha #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff

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kagedbird · 7 months

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TESSDE AU (+ Taliesin) Continuation of this

Allora has spent the last week at home with the boys and Bren, relaxing not too dissimilar from a dysfunctional family. The trio have been taking their time getting to know one another better and Allora has become more comfortable with displays of affection- slowly. She's received a letter from a courier that Lucien will be coming home in the next few days, and another from Inigo that she was free to teleport him to her whenever she needs. Deciding to wait until both were back, she happily runs into Lucien's arms as he entered into Whiterun.

Allora: You're back! *squeezes him tightly, burying herself against him* Welcome home! Lucien: *a little teary eyed at her tight hug and the big warm welcome, chuckling softly* Well hello! This is certainly nice. Allora: I missed you. Lucien: Awh! I missed you too. Hello Kaidan, Taliesin! Kaidan: Welcome back Lucien. Find out anythin' interestin' in yer studies? *claps Lucien on the shoulder* Lucien: *eyes bulging in surprise* Uh... w-well, yes! Many very interesting things! Would you like to hear about them? Taliesin: Perhaps we should have Allora bring home our final guest first? Lucien: Final guest? *releases Allora as she pulls away* Allora: *focuses on Inigo's soul as the magick forms into her palm, whispering* Inigo. *casts the spell a few feet from her, and out apperates Inigo* Inigo: Whoa! You are very lucky my friend, I just finished going to the bathroom- oof! Allora: *flung herself to hold onto Inigo just as tightly, laughing happily* Welcome home! Inigo: Hehe. Thank you, my friend. It is good to be home. Lucien: Inigo! Where were you, old chap? And what on Nirn was that spell?! Inigo: Oh, Lucien! You returned! It is good to see you. We went on a long quest for myself after you had left to your Dwemer ruin; it turns out I also have a big prophecy just like our friend here! Taliesin: Yes, perhaps we can discuss that back at the house? *gently pulls Allora closer to him and guides her back home* Kaidan: *walking after the two* Aye, plenty to talk about. Good t'see you, Inigo. Inigo: Yes! I am glad to see you are all well. What has happened while we were out? Allora: Well... *** Lucien: *frowning in thought as Allora sat between Taliesin and Kaidan, both of them hovering around her quite a lot more than normal* ... Inigo: Julian? Lucien: Hm? Oh, my apologies. Were you saying something? Inigo: You were saying something about your Dwemer ruins, but you went quiet. Lucien: *flustered, coughing into his hand* Ah, sorry, I believe the... long travel is getting to me is all. Allora: Do you need to rest? You can take my room! Lucien: Ah, no no. I wouldn't want to kick you out of your own room! Kaidan: *standing up to gather more alto wine* You wouldn't. She's been sleepin' in the master. Taliesin: More accurate to say you'd be taking the room from Mr. Folsterhan. Inigo: Does this have to do with the kidnappers? Allora: *blushing brightly as she doesn't look the two in the eye* ...Not... exactly... but kind of... Kaidan: *returns with two bottles of alto wine, refilling Allora's glass before his* We're all sleepin' in there together. Lucien: *eyes widen as he stares at Taliesin and Kaidan, realizing they haven't bit off each other's head once since he returned* You're- you're together? Inigo: When did this happen? Congratulations you three! Allora: *swallows down half her glass of wine in one go to try and curb the embarrassment* Oh god...

[Next one here]

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pesterloglog · 4 months

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Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas, Jake English

Meat, page 34

DAVE: yo

DAVE: sure you still want to do this

KARKAT: YEAH. IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO CALL IT OFF.

KARKAT: BY WHICH I MEAN THIS ENTIRE FUCKING COMEDY OF ERRORS THAT DAVE PREPOSTEROUSLY INSISTS ON CALLING A “CAMPAIGN.”

KARKAT: OR HOW ABOUT THE ELECTION ITSELF? WE CAN PUT THE KIBOSH ON THAT TOO IF YOU WANT.

KARKAT: IF YOU’RE FEELING UNCOMFORTABLE JAKE, JUST SAY THE WORD. WE’LL STICK A PRONGSHOVEL IN THE WHOLE DEAL AND GO HOME.

KARKAT: OR. YOU KNOW. JUST YOUR SPEECH.

JAKE: Dont be daffy chaps. If i were the sort of man to balk at a bit of hot potato in the evening i wouldnt be where i am today!

JAKE: I... I... er hallo folks dandy weather were having here isnt it.

JAKE: Er... thank you... everyone for coming out on this benjo of a day to um...

JAKE: Do whatever it is that weve all congregated to do!

KARKAT: (WHAT IS HE DOING? I SAW HIM REREAD THE SPEECH.)

DAVE: (yeah)

DAVE: (idk he does this public speaking shit every day maybe this is just how he warms a crowd up)

DAVE: (lets give him a... hm)

KARKAT: (DAVE?)

KARKAT: (ARE YOU OK.)

DAVE: (oh im fine)

DAVE: (for a moment something felt... off?)

KARKAT: (AGAIN???)

KARKAT: (WHAT, IS THE ASSASSIN GOING TO TAKE HIM OUT AFTER ALL???)

DAVE: (no its not that)

JAKE: Its wonderful to see such a jammy cornucopia of supporters!

JAKE: By golly the lot of you sure are enthusiastic about that karkat chap.

JAKE: Which means that we potentially have a few things in common since ive come here to...

JAKE: To... to...

JAKE: Ive come to...

JAKE: Rather that is to say,

JAKE: In delicate times such as these,

JAKE: Even though usually its a toffer of a bad idea to talk politics in public,

JAKE: Today we have all most certainly gathered here,

JAKE: T-to have what is definitely a political conversation.

JAKE: Y-yes that d-does seem to... be the lay of the land.

JAKE: Th-that ive come here to... tell you all about my political opinions...

JAKE: Which I will get to um shortly and with er minimal... verbal bricabrac...

JAKE: B-because I—

JAKE: I...

JAKE: Ive... made a terrible mistake.

JAKE: What in the devil was i thinking coming here?

JAKE: Why did I...?

JAKE: I came here to...

JAKE: I love dirk!

JAKE: IM IN *LOVE* WITH DIRK!!!

DAVE: (oh jesus fucking christ)

JAKE: Boy howdy...

JAKE: Umm.

JAKE: Sorry about the hiccup there folks.

KARKAT: (HICCUP???)

DAVE: (smfh)

JAKE: Ive been dealing with some personal issues as of late and was momentarily distracted.

JAKE: But nevermind that. I know what youve all come here today to hear.

JAKE: There has been quite a ruckus in the press these last few weeks concerning the subject of the election and more importantly where i stand on the candidates.

JAKE: So today id like to set the record straight,

JAKE: On that matter,

JAKE: As well as all other matters.

JAKE: You see

JAKE: *takes a deep breath*

DAVE: (oh no)

DAVE: (is he about to do what i think he is)

KARKAT: (WHAT??)

KARKAT: (WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING???)

JAKE: I—

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #dave strider #karkat vantas #jake english #meat epilogue #page 34

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thebatfamfanatic · 3 years

Text

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #jason todd fluff #dc comics #robin!jason

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tommybaholland · 3 years

Text

“my anxiety isn’t that bad” aka little habits their s/o has that they help to try to relieve

featuring: kuroo, kenma, akaashi and bokuto

inspired by this post. this is not to try to romanticize anxiety and/or mental illness! hopefully this will help anyone who experiences any of these behaviors and possibly provide some distraction with your fav hq boys! hope you enjoy <3

kuroo

winter is beautiful, but the dryness it caused to your lips was definitely a low point. especially when the uncomfortable feeling of the chapped skin against your upper lip was enough to make you vigorously pick at it. sometimes you pick at them so much the skin breaks and bleeds a little.

it hurts but it’s never really bothered you that much. however, kuroo had to say something after tasting the liquid metal on your lips.

“kitten, have you been picking at your lips again?”

“... you’ve noticed?”

“of course, sweetheart. i think you do it more than you know.” he holds your chin while pulling your lower lip down to see the little scabs along with a fresh spot with dots of blood painting the skin.

“oh kitten,” he frowned. “you don’t have to tell me but i want to better understand why you do this to yourself. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

“it’s okay, tetsu. i dunno why i do it. like you said, it’s kind of second nature at this point. but i guess it mostly happens when i’m thinking about something. i’m sorry if it worried you..”

“no, no, no kitten. you don’t have to be sorry,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your head. “but thank you for telling me. now what’s got this pretty little mind so mixed up that those pretty lips are bleeding, hm?”

it was always something different but nevertheless, you were constantly worrying about something. and if you didn’t worry about it, something bad or inconvenient would happen.

“i’m sorry you feel that way, babe,” he soothed, the tips of his fingers drumming on the middle of your back. “you can tell me about anything that’s bothering you...or i can get you some chapstick so everytime you feel like picking you can just put that on and eventually it’ll replace the habit!”

“but for now...lemme distract you with some kisses,” he spoke against your lips. “mmm, c’mere gorgeous.”

kenma

you liked playing games with kenma but sometimes you just liked to sit and watch him as he played. until one hour would become two, two became three. boy could play for literal hours on end, no matter who was with him or the time of day. so it could get a little tiring after a while and you could feel the urge to do something else, something a little more active.

your leg began to bounce against the edge of his bed.

“y/n, you’re doing it again,” his soft voice spoke up, his attention unbroken from the tv.

“oh sorry, ken. just feeling a bit restless.”

you moved off the bed and onto the floor, resting up against the side of the frame so your leg bouncing wouldn’t bother him.

kenma played for a few more minutes before completing another stage, sighing with sudden boredom. he then looked over to see that you had disappeared.

“y/n?.....there you are,” peeking over the side of the bed to see you playing on your phone. “what’re you doing on the floor?”

“my leg started bouncing a lot and i didn’t want to bother you.”

he sighed before reaching out his hand. “c’mon snuggles. get up here.”

you took his invitation and climbed back up onto the bed where he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling him.

“you know, you never bother me,” he grinned. “but you can let me know if you wanna go do something, okay?”

you nodded, copying his grin before giving him a few small kisses and pulling him into a hug.

“do you want to go for a walk? we could go to the park or something.”

you agreed immediately, ready to stretch your legs a bit. you excitedly climbed out of his lap, stretching as soon as your feet hit the floor.

he smiled and chuckled softly at your sudden perkiness. “okay, let’s go cutie.”

akaashi

you always had your phone on you. you never went anywhere without it and never missed any notifications you would receive, even if it was a dumb spam email. and if you didn’t have you phone, well--

“keiji, where’s my phone?” you asked your boyfriend while feeling around the couch to see if it had fallen in between the cushions.

“what’s wrong, baby? aren’t you enjoying the movie?”

“i am but i just need to— you have it don’t you?”

a smirk crept up on his pretty face as if he was trying not to laugh. “i don’t know what you’re talking about—whoa baby.”

he giggled as your hands began patting him down, trying to locate the device.

“please kaashi, i need it—”

“baby, stop. you know i’m ticklish,” he grabbed your wrists to cease your movement. “why do you need it so bad?”

“i just wanna check it, you know, to make sure i haven’t missed anything or anyone’s tried to reach me.”

his hands released your wrists and found their way around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “baby, i promise you, nothing’s happened. everything is okay.”

“but how do you know?”

he reached behind him and pulled out the thing you were looking for. “because it hasn’t vibrated once. do you want it back?”

“yes, thank you-- wait...please tell me it wasn’t down your pants.”

another smirk appeared. “maybe...you’d have to find out for yourself.”

“okay nevermind, you can keep it,” you replied, moving off him.

he captured you back into his arms before handing you your phone. “no, no baby, i’m just kidding,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek. “you’re so cute.”

bokuto

“babeeeeee, can we please stop for a minute? my feet are about to fall off.”

and hiking was his idea.

“i thought i was with one of the top five aces in the nation, but it seems like you’re out of shape to me,” you teased, looking back to your boyfriend.

“ i am NOT out of shape, babe,” he retorts. “besides, maybe i’m just enjoying the view..”

“okay, i’m really about to leave you behind--”

“i’m kidding! i’m sorry, beautiful. you do walk very fast though and to be honest, i really underestimated your stride.”

“i always walk like this, kou.”

he jogs to catch up with you, taking your hand in his. “i know, babe. but can we please take a break? my feet do hurt.”

you finally agree and he leads you off the trail. you sit down on dry ground, where the light was hitting just right.

“move over here, lemme put my arm around you.”

you move over into his side, wrapping an arm around his torso. the scene was rather picturesque: wind softly blowing through the trees, birds chirping and the sound of flowing water from the lake in front of you.

“see, isn’t this nice? so now you can rest your pretty legs,” he remarks, rubbing a hand over your thigh.

“you know, i love that you’re into being active and i was so excited when you agreed to come on this hike with me. but we’re not in any rush..it’s okay to slow down.”

“i’m sorry--”

“no need to apologize, babe. it’s okay,” he reassures, rubbing your shoulder. “but also i just don’t know how to keep up with you. i’m fully admitting it: my s/o is a badass.”

“well, yeah, maybe i’m just trying to keep you on your toes, literally,” you laugh. “but i’ll try to take everything in a little more. i definitely don’t want to miss anything with you.”

you try to resist when he attempts to bear hug you. “nooo, i’m all sweaty. kou, stop.”

“it’s okay, i like that you’re sweaty. actually, i love it.”

you giggle as he begins to kiss your neck, nibbling lightly on the skin. “okay, now it’s your turn to slow down, big boy.”

hellooooo haikyuu night! requests very much welcome

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo blurb #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma blurb #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi blurb #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto blurb #tommybaholland

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aciid-eater · 3 years

Text

“How Unusual.” Sam x Oc!Poc!reader

Part 2: “Apologize”

"Woman. You are going to let me kiss you."

what?

One of the men, the one with the brown hair, stood tall in front of y/n. One of his calloused hands held her chin poised up to his face, thumb pawing at her bottom lip. Out of all the emotions she was feeling right now, she couldn’t be bothered to be feel afraid or uneasy.

It was almost as if the presence of the men was calming at best. But her mind raced, thoughts spinning a mile a minute all about why they were here and what they were going to do to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man with the red hair flinch as his eyes widened.

“....okay.” She physically couldn’t bring herself to refuse. There was a warm feeling in her chest and unnaturally made her want the kiss more than she actually did.

“Good.”

His lips were chapped. And as he kissed her, she began to feel tired. As if he was slowly draining her of any fight she had left in her body.

what is happening??

“Sam. That’s enough.” One of the taller men called out.

“mmm.” The one in which y/n assumed to be named sam huffed, lips still connected to hers.

“I said stop. Now.”

“Fine.”

Y/n could finally breathe again once Sam pulled back. She took a couple deep breaths, trying to figure out what just happened and why she liked it.

why did that feel good?

“Forgive my brother, he’s a bit reckless.”

“At least I feel a hell of a lot better than you right now.” Sam huffed.

“Now Sam, you’re such a brute, using your abilities on a beautiful young woman like that.” Another one of the men mumbled.

“Shut that pretty boy mouth of yours before I rip it off your pretty boy face.” Sam growled.

“Sheesh you guys can we not fight right now? We’re not in the best of state.” The one in the big jacket interjected.

“I guess you’re right Matthew.”

“I agree.”

They soon started to talk freely with each other, leaving y/n to stare confused at them.

“what...the... FUCK??” Then men flinched as she began yelling.

“Why are you in my house???? Who even are you??? Who kicked your asses??? And you—“

She looked at Sam.

“You kissed me—WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU??” She emphasized her statement with a hard punch to the gut.

“OW what the hell—“

“What’s your problem?? You can’t just go around forcing people to kiss you, what are you, some type of sex offender???” She huffed, staring him down with a hard glare.

“It was only a kiss!” He barked back into her face.

“Yeah, to you!”

“What, was it your first kiss?”

no, but it was still important.

“OW WHAT WAS THAT FOR??” He flinched when she punched him again.

“YOU SUCK. A KISS IS AN EXPRESSION OF AFFECTION, YOU CANT JUST FORCE PEOPLE TO KISS YOU.”

“Stop making such a big deal out of it.” He huffed.

“Are you asking to get punched again??”

“Well what do you want me to do??? It’s not like I can somehow take it back.”

“You could apologize. That might suffice.” Y/n mumbled, stepping back and pulling her hands behind her back. Sam sighed.

“Why do I always gotta look like the bad guy?” He mumbled to himself.

“Okay......I’m sorry.”

“For?” Y/n asked.

“I’m sorry for kissing you like that, I went too far.” He ran his hands through his hair.

“I didn’t mean for it to turn out that way, I act on impulse and it’s hard to- what am I saying?”

he had an impulse to kiss me?

She didn’t know why, but y/n felt a little sympathetic for him.

“It’s okay.” She said softly. “I get what you’re saying, thank you.”

“yeah.”

“Though if you pull something like that again, fair warning I have heavy hands.” And her glare was back.

“So uh.” She turned back to the rest of them.

“Mind explaining why you’re here?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Miss, please forgive our intrusion, we weren’t aware this abode belonged to anyone, nor did we have the time to consider that-“

“Excuse me?”

“We just escaped from a deadly fight that could have almost costed us our lives.”

This has to be a prank or something

“It’s not, he’s telling the truth.” The quite one stated.

Did I say that aloud...?

“Okay,,, but why did Sammy over here immediately start sucking on my lips when I came in?”

“Well, lovely lady, that’s because, we’re not exactly ‘normal’.” The sleazy looking one stated.

“What, are you demons or something?” she joked. The men began to look around at each other.

seriously?

“You can’t be serious right now? Do you think i’m stupid or something?” she huffed.

“We’re incubi miss, demons who consume and use sexual energy to survive.”

Y/n’s body went stiff and she took a few steps back. Whether they were lying or not, she knew she was most likely in danger.

“Yo? Did you hear him?” Sam barked.

“I think she’s still processing.” The goofy looking one said.

“Give her a second.” The sleazy one mumbled.

“.......Incubi don’t exist.” Y/n said suddenly, slowly backing up to the front door.

“Just perverse men who use mind tricks to take advantage of women.”

“I assure you we’re not tricking you. Demons are very real.” The tall one said.

“Prove it.” Y/n blurted out before her mind could register what she was saying. The tall one was quite for a moment.

“Very well, Erik go ahead.”

Y/n was on high alert as the tall sleazy looking man approached her.

“You’re so sweet with such non belief, let me ease your mind hm?” He mumbled, curling one of the tight coils of her hair on his finger.

And before she could even protest, that warm feeling in her chest was back, and she was unable to refuse. Dipping down, the Man who she assumed to be Erik captured her lips. His lips were soft.

Immediately y/n began to feel the energy draining out of her, her eyes fluttered as her hands braced on Erik’s chest, she couldn’t get them to push him off her though.

“Erik that’s enough.” At the call of his brother, Erik pulled back, smirking down at the girl as if he had just given her life.

“I feel so much better.” He mumbled.

“Ah.” Y/n blinked a couple times, trying to recuperate.

“Oh, where are our manners? I’m James, these are my brothers, Erik, Sam, Matthew, and Damien.” The tall one stated. Y/n didn’t respond.

“Miss, are you okay?”

“Yeah I just—“ Y/n’s words fell off as her knees gave out under her, Damien swooping in to catch her just before she hit the ground.

“Shit. She fainted.”

Tags: @ivoryseia @alexus4real @elvingleaf @khesi

#seduce me sam x reader #seduce me the otome #sam #seduce me the demon war #seduce me same #seduce me erik #seduce me james #seduce me damien #seduce me matthew #seduce me

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mikwrites-archive · 4 years

Text

eastside

✧ pairing: lee jihoon x fem!reader ✧ warnings: mentions of fights, blood, but very brief!! ✧ genre: bad boy au, fluff ✧ wc: 1.8k

✧ a/n: call call call jihoon lives in my mind rent free!!! mayhaps this is inspired by that song w khalid and halsey and not entirely proofread bc im tired n going to bed hwjbsdjhs

You met Lee Jihoon in your mathematics class during your last year of high school, where you sat by the daydream filled window, and he sat behind you, his own mind occupied by the living daydream in front of him.

But he never spoke to you, and you to him, until one morning you turned around, ignoring the gawking gazes of your friends, asking him if he was alright.

He supposed you were referring to the bruised lip and scabbed knuckles from the nasty fistfight in the park last night that was circulating around the student body, but all he could manage to stammer was:

“I’m fine, and you?”

You smiled at him sweetly.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s so embarrassing.” Jihoon groans. “How do you even remember that?”

“How could I forget my first conversation with bad boy Lee Jihoon?”

“Don’t call me that.” Jihoon narrows his eyes, and it’s clear you’re not impressed as you cross your arms, so he pins you against the glass pane of the bus stop bench, and you melt into giggles.

“Bad boy Lee Jihoon who’s secretly a softie.” You singsong, and he pinches your side as you squirm.

“I asked nicely, baby.” He murmurs against your cheek.

“Not fair.” You whine at the use of the petname, face burning hotly as he grins.

The bus screeches to a stop, and you both hop on hand in hand, trailing all the way to the tail of the bus. Jihoon takes out a tangle of headphones and his battered portable CD player.

“This is new.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I’d been working on it for a few weeks and I think it’s finally done.”

“It’s good. Really good.” You know your opinion is far from professional, but to Jihoon, it means just as much of not more.

“This is our stop.” You prompt him once the bus jolts to a standstill, rising, but Jihoon tugs you back down and you don’t protest, falling back to his side curiously.

“I have a surprise. It’s just a little bit further.” He explains.

He takes you to a small auto garage he says a friend of his owns, lifting the overhead door to reveal a classic blue Corvette.

“I’ve been saving up for it.” He puffs up triumphantly. “Almost have the payment down.”

“It’s beautiful.” You smile, running your hand over the hood.

“Then we can go anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

The glowing sun illuminates Jihoon’s smile, and your breath is taken away at the beauty of it.

“Anywhere.”

“Word has been going around that you’ve been hanging around that boy, Lee Jihoon.”

“Have I?” You respond airily, your parents exchanging a look, the scraping of forks and knives decreasing by two. You can’t say you’re surprised they’d found out about Jihoon, but you are slightly impressed it’s being brought up so soon at dinner.

“Don’t play coy. It’s unbecoming.” Your father glares, but you know he’s not truly upset until he’s at least discovered your intentions.

“We’ve taught you better than to play around with boys like him.” Your mother purses her lips in disapproval, and you set down your cutlery.

“I’m not playing around. I’m quite serious about it.” At your father’s raised eyebrow, you hurry on. “We’re friends. He lets me listen to his music. He makes nice songs. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

You’re not entirely lying.

Jihoon’s lips are slightly chapped, his mouth pressing slowly against yours as if you had all the time in the world under the flickering lights at the very back of the bus, hands gently gripping your waist. Your own hands rest on his chest, and he wonders if you can feel the way it races under the leather and studs.

It’s reluctant, the way he pulls away once the driver droningly announces your stop. He helps you hop off the bus, and as you both begin to walk, he clasps your hand in his.

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Your heart feels suspended in that moment, as if Jihoon had caught it in his hands, leaping and jumping, and it’s not until Jihoon halts, gazing at you curiously that you turn and smile incredulously at him.

“Don’t I get any say in this?”

A flush washes over his features as he realizes, sputtering apologies, and you laugh.

“I’m only kidding.” You sigh fondly, and Jihoon shrugs.

“Well, I’m not. I really mean it. If you’ll say yes when the time comes of course.” Jihoon states, steadfast, and you swallow. “I don’t mean to freak you out or anything-” he starts as he sees your expression, but you cut him off, smiling.

“I want a big house.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod, giggling. “With a pool and everything.”

“Anything for you.” Jihoon promises, and you blink. You think this is what it means, to say you love someone without uttering those fated three words. “I’ll give it all to you.”

Jihoon’s not a liar.

You know he’d tell you anything, give you anything, within the limitations of his comfort and wants, yet it still makes you nervous to ask him, like the first day you bolstered your courage to speak to him.

“Hey, Ji?”

“Hm?” He’s immersed in his textbook, frowning as he taps his pencil along to a rhythm only he could hear.

“I know you don’t really like going to dances, but it’s our last year, and I was wondering if you wanted to come to one with me? I can go myself if you really don’t want to since my friends are going-”

“I’ll take you.” Jihoon sets his pencil down, a small smile on his face.

“Really?” You exclaim, repeating it more quietly when you remember you’re in the library, leaning towards him excitedly.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me happy?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“It could be fun,” he shrugs, lips quirking up as he returns to his work, and you scoot around the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek giddily.

“Thank you.”

“Okay, okay.” Jihoon flushes. “Don’t thank me. At least not here.”

“He’s here.”

Your mother’s disapproval is palpant as she lets you know from your doorway, obvious now that your previous conversation had been a lie and that you and that boy, weren’t just friends.

“Tell him I’ll be down soon please.”

Your mother softens at the way your expression lights up at her words. She trails behind you with the camera when you walk as fast as you can down the stairs, a brilliant smile on your face when you see Jihoon.

He’s talking (albeit stiffly) with your father, breaking away when he meets your gaze, and you make a note to question him about that later.

“You look beautiful.” Jihoon whispers. His hands flutter, as if wanting to move to touch you, but with your parents standing to the side watching, he doesn’t dare.

You, however, gently smooth the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling tentatively.

“Thank you. You look very handsome.”

“Now, smile for the picture,” your mother interjects, and Jihoon gathers the will to place his arm lightly around your waist.

“You know when to be home.” Your father tells you sternly before swerving to Jihoon. “Not a second late.”

“Yes sir.” Jihoon shifts uncomfortably, and you smile.

“Please don’t tell me we’re taking the bus.” You murmur under your breath as you step out the house.

Jihoon guffaws. He pulls out his jangling keys, twirling them around his finger proudly. In your driveway rests the blue Corvette.

“No baby. We’re not.”

“Did you really have to get into a fight?” You sigh, dabbing gently at Jihoon’s bloody lip in the backseat.

“That bastard didn’t know when to shut his mouth.” He spits red over the side of the car, and your chest rises and falls deeply in exasperation once again.

The silence makes Jihoon uneasy, gently taking the ice pack you were preparing and placing it over his bruised cheek himself.

“C’mon baby. I’m sorry.” Jihoon wheedles, tugging you down on his lap, lips puckering in an apologetic pout. “I know how excited you were about the dance.”

You’re not actually upset about missing the dance, if you’re honest, but you do love to vex Jihoon a little bit when necessary.

“That’s not working this time. I’m upset with you. You’re on a kissing ban until the foreseeable future.”

“What?” He gawks, and you smirk. “But-”

“No buts.”

“But... what if I told you a secret?”

You hesitate.

“I’m listening.”

“I love you.” He softens, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on the sides of your hips, and you cup his face tenderly with a beaming smile.

“I know. You’re horrible at keeping secrets.”

“Are not!”

“Mm... Kind of.”

“Only with you.” He grumbles and your laugh sounds like wind chimes swept by a summer’s breeze.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”

Time flies by fast after that.

Too fast. And before you and Jihoon know it, it’s the day before graduation. A day before your future becomes something other than riding the rattling Corvette, stealing kisses under streetlights, and sharing headphones.

“I’m leaving after graduation.”

Your eyes flicker across the grassy knolls from where you’d set down a picnic blanket for you both to sit on in the park, pursing your lips lightly as you think of how to respond. Jihoon barrels on anxiously.

“I’ve made enough with performing a little, and I sent in some of my lyrics to some companies and they really like it. They want me to work with them.”

“That’s really amazing, Ji.” And you mean it, finally turning to face him, and he smiles, a heartbreaking smile.

“I’m gonna come back.” He swallows. “I mean, for visits for sure, but when I do... will you still be here? I still gotta marry you y’know. Big house with a pool and all.” He adds on partly as a joke and partly as a quiet reminder.

You smile at the words, leaning on his shoulder.

“Don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

“I’m tired.”

Jihoon leans his head on your shoulder, murmuring, and you laugh.

“Ji, this is our wedding. Am I boring you?”

“Never.” He huffs. “You never bore me. But I think I’ve heard enough of the BooSeokSoon trio singing tonight.”

“Wait,” you lift him off of you apologetically. “I’ll be right back. My grandma is flirting with Mingyu.”

You maneuver around, beelining towards Mingyu who politely kept denying your grandmother’s affectionate touches to his arm and chest at the refreshments table. Jihoon laughs at the sight.

When you finally distract your grandmother (Mingyu sending you a grateful glance before scurrying away), your father sidles up to you.

“He told me, years ago, that he’d marry you y’know.” Your father states gruffly after a reminiscent pause, and you’re not surprised, thinking of prom night. You’d giggled uncontrollably when Jihoon confessed his teenage determination to your father that evening, much to your parent’s disbelief. “Guess he proved me wrong.”

A comfortable pause fills the gaps. You watch as Jihoon eggs the others on into teasing Mingyu about his encounter with your grandmother, an amused smile blooming on your features.

“He treats you well?”

Jihoon catches your gaze, sending you a wink. Happiness glows in your chest.

“Always.”

✧ taglist: @seijoh @soranihimawari @peachy-yabbay

#caratwritersclub #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon imagines #jihoon x reader #jihoon imagines #woozi imagines #woozi x reader #svt x you #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt imagines

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il0veyoujk · 3 years

Text

New house, new roomies

Sixth Chap.

This is a tickle related series, so if you are not interested in that type of content, I’d suggest ya to find another ff to read, thank you :)

Mini series based on a request from an anon and one of my ff Self-Esteem (I think you should better read it firstly so you can understand more what’s going on)

Summary: Nefeli (14) has just moved in with the boys and Jimin, but she is still not comfortable around them, so each one spends a day with her in order to get her to open up and to know each other more.

Warnings: None

Notes: None

Lots of love Nef 💕

“I’ll grab your waist and I’ll lift you, okay?”

“Are you sure I am not too heavy for ya?”

“For the last time Nef, you are not!”

“If you say so, I am just warning you”

Today Hoseok and Nefeli had decided to learn a new dance. Well, Nefeli had asked Hoseok to help her learn it. They currently were in the living room, in front of the TV and loud music was bursting from the speakers. All the rest of the boys were out of the house for various reasons. Yoongi and Jungkook were out, playing basket, Namjoon was in the local library, Jimin and Taehyung were somewhere in the park and Jin had gone to the stores to buy the blue cheese the boys had forgotten to bring.

“Come on Nefeli, you have said that so many times and you are never heavy!” Hoseok smiled his famous shiny smile and raised his sleeves up to his elbows.

The young girl sighed deeply as Hoseok turned the music louder and bent his knees, getting ready to catch her.

“Fine, but if we fall, don’t say I didn’t warn you” the young girl took a step back and started running up to the lad in front of her, who just rolled his eyes playfully.

In a swift movement, Nefeli jumped in the air, waiting for Hoseok to catch her. However, as soon as he caught her, Nefeli immediately curled up, giggling in the air on his arms. Hoseok raised an eyebrow but before he could say something else, she had already fallen on the floor.

“Is everything alright love?” Hoseok asked Nefeli who was still on the floor, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeheheah don’t worry, everything is fihihine” she giggled in response, getting back on her feet and getting in position to jump on him again.

Hoseok, who had understood something, raised his arms again and stepped a little behind, ready to catch the still giggling girl again.

“Okay 3... 2... 1... Jump!” the young lad yelled, smiling widely, signaling for Nef to run again.

Which she did.

Nefeli started running again, still grinning and mentally drumming her head in the rhythm of the music. She jumped again in the air, stretching her body as much as she could so Hoseok could get a better grip on her.

What she didn’t expect tho was Hoseok to grab her by her sides, gripping on them and wiggling his fingers there so as he could keep her still. But he had managed to do something else...

The young girl busted in loud, belly laughter, shaking her head side to side and thrashing around in the air, trying to escape the devilish feeling.

“What is it Nef?” Hoseok smirked, wiggling his fingers more, knowing full well what he was doing.

“NAHAHAHAO LEMME GAHAHAHAO AHAHAHA!” Nefeli was kicking out nonstop, while her arms were falling everywhere they could reach.

“What happened? Am I doing something wrong?” the boy’s fingers moved to her lower ribs, squeezing and kneading there, touching some of her most sensitive nerves.

“PLEAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAO AHAHAHA!” Nefeli kicked out more, squirming in the air, way more than before.

She couldn’t imagine that someone would have noticed how sensitive her midsection was just like that. And being tickled in the air was making everything ten times worse. It was like she couldn’t escape and she was stuck there, only able to laugh and squirm around.

“Now tell me Neffie, does it perhaps tickle a little?” his teasing made the young girl snicker louder, sending a tingly shiver down her already sensitive spine.

One thing Nefeli couldn’t stand was teasing. She knew that if she tries more, she would have escaped the tickled, but teasing is something she cannot stop. Only if the teaser wanted it to stop. And getting teased makes her feel even sensitive.

“YEAHAHAHAHAS AHAHAHAHA!” the girl blushed deep red, not really wanting to admit that. She hated saying that word out loud or even say she is sensitive.

Hoseok smirked wider and moved his right hand on her hips while the other remained in its place, squeezing endlessly the two spots.

Nefeli felt her nerves being set on fire while every hair she had on her body was now straight. Her legs were falling everywhere they could while she was gripping tightly on his wrists, trying to set herself free. But nothing seemed to work. “HOSEOK AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAO AHAHAHAHA!”

“Aw, you are so cute Neffie!” Hoseok finally laid Nef’s body on the carpet, on her back, while she was panting hard.

However, the young girl didn’t have much time to react before Hoseok pinned her arms above her head with one arm and started clawing her tummy with the other one.

Nefeli let out a mini shriek and fell into hysterical giggles, shaking her head side to side in order to make the feeling less intense, but nothing was working.

Hoseok’s fingers were touching and kneading softly her lower tummy, occasionally shaking his fingertips in the middle of her stomach “Your laughter is so sweet sunshine!”

Nefeli felt a blush appearing on her cheeks from the tease, while she was kicking out nonstop “PleahahaHAHAHAhase nahaHAHAhahao ahahaha!”

“Please what? Please more? Oh, I was planning on letting you go but if you insist” Hoseok fastly sat on her arms and started scribbling his fingers there.

The girl was immediately thrown in loud laughter and was trying hard to pull her arms down. Oh well, she had no chance obviously. Her tiny frame was no match for Hoseok’s one.

“NAHAHAHAHAO! NAHAHAHAT THEAHAHAHARE AHAHAHAHA!” Nef was kicking out and squirming around, not stopping for at least one second. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. The feeling was making her so sensitive she couldn’t control it.

“Aw, are you a little too ticklish to take it, Neffie?” he smirked, running his fingers on her bare armpits, making her scream in laughter.

But guess who is too stubborn to admit it. Yes, Nef. She would never say how sensitive she is. And of course, she could never use the word ‘ticklish’. She just couldn’t.

“NAHAHAHAHAO I’M NAHAHAHAHAOT AHAHAHAHA!” she shook her head cheekily, her laughter raising an octave when Hoseok sped up his fingers.

“Oh, what was that? You are not? Hm, then you won’t mind me doing that, right?” in a swift movement Hoseok’s fingers found their way on her lowest ribs, scribbling and running there.

Nefeli immediately was thrown in loud, belly laughter, shaking her head side to side and kicking out nonstop. It tickled so much that she was feeling like she would explode anytime soon. Her ribs were really sensitive and the fact that she was pinned wasn’t helping the matter.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHA HOSEOK PLEAHAHAHAHASE!” Nef kept kicking out and laughing loudly while Hoseok’s fingers were still dancing all over her lower ribs. His nails were dragging and scribbling all over her poor bones while his thumbs were squeezing the back of her ribs in the most ticklish way Nef had ever experienced.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? What’s so funny?” Hoseok asked innocently. If Nefeli could glare at him, she would, but she couldn’t. She was busy laughing and getting tickled.

“NAHAHAHAHAOTHING AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli screamed in laughter when Hoseok’s fingers touched her middle ribs, pinching and scratching them with no mercy at all.

“Oh is that so? Then why are you laughing? I thought you weren’t ticklish, are you?” his teasing was making everything worse for the poor girl. His devilish fingers were digging and sometimes slipping in the space between her ribs, bringing to the surface some of the loudest laughter Nef had ever experienced.

“I REMEMBERED SAHAHAHAHAHAMETHING AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nef couldn’t come up with a better excuse other than that. But there was no way she would ever admit that she was sensitive.

The young lad raised his eyebrows teasingly. He was still wearing a wide grin when he moved his body fastly so that he was now straddling her waist and placed his hands on her waist “Really?! What did you remember, little one?!”

“N-Nohohone of your businehehehess!” Nef was laying there, regaining her breath, some soft leftover giggles leaving her. A wide smile was on her face and her hair was messy. She was recovering but one thing that was for sure was that she wasn’t thinking about what she was saying in between her giggles.

“But why? I wanna laugh too!” Hoseok squeezed her waist only once with the tips of his fingers.

Little did he know was that this squeeze was enough for her the poor girl to let out a scream.

“AGH NAHAHAHAO!” Nef bucked her his in the air and pushed her body upwards so as she could escape but Hoseok’s weight was preventing her from that.

“Wow, I’m barely touching you and you are already screaming! Is this a bad spot?” Hoseok smirked before he did the unexpected. He bent down and started nibbling on the poor girl’s waistline and the spot where the ribs meet the sides.

Nefeli was immediately thrown into hysterics and was shrieking in loud laughter. She was feeling like someone was tasering her with ticklish sensations, making her almost lose her mind “BWAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAT THEAHAHAHAHARE PLEAHAHAHAHASE HOSEAHAHAHAK!”

To be honest, the boy looked a little taken aback by Nef’s reaction. He wasn’t expecting her to react like that. However, the golden new spot he found made him smirk wider than he already was, while Nefeli’s almost hysterical laughter was filling the room, probably annoying everyone around them from how loud it was “Your laughter is my favorite sound, Neffie! I can do this all day!”

A feeling of panic rushed inside her as soon as the lad said that. She knew she wouldn’t last if her older friend kept going for too long.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAO! I’LL DIE!” Nefeli screamed in between her laughter, squealing louder when the boy chuckled on her skin from how hyperbolic the young girl was.

Hoseok’s sharp, front teeth were munching lightly yet fastly on the girl’s skin, sometimes touching her ribs while Nef was only able to lay there and take it. His torso was preventing her from escaping and her attempts to push his head away were doing nothing.

“Y’know I would never let you die, little one!” Hoseok sent her a wide, loving smile before he blew a long raspberry on her side.

If Nefeli could melt, she would completely. He was probably the sweetest person in that house and his smile could make someone’s day. However, at this point, the only thing she was focused on was the torturous sensations of the nonstop raspberries which were furious blows on her tummy and sides.

At the same time, Hoseok was scribbling with his blunt nails on Nefeli’s hips as his toes were softly scratching her soles. Her loud shrieks were filling the air while she was kicking her legs up and down, wiggling side to side while the ticklish sensations were kept going.

“Y’know, it’s so cute how you haven’t said stop this whole time!” Hoseok exclaimed, turning around and scribbling fastly Nef’s sole with his nails, sending her in fits of pure hysterics.

Nefeli’s face flushed deep red while she was trying to kick Hoseok’s fingers away from her with her other foot, only to get it trapped and tickled as well. Well, why would she say stop...? However, Hoseok was the first person who pointed it out and that made her extremely shy.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she yelled out of reflex, trying to prove to Hoseok that she wasn’t enjoying this as much as he believed, even tho both of them knew she was lying.

“Now do you reeeeeeally want this to stop? Because I don’t think you do!” Hoseok’s teased as he pulled back Nef’s toes, scribbling their base, making her laughter raise an octave and crystal tears start rolling down her cheeks.

Nefeli was feeling like her entire torso was tingling. Even her palms. Her feet were always a death spot and now that Hoseok is tickling her like that, she feels like she is gonna explode any time soon. Every hair on her body was straight and her back was arched as her toes were being tortured and scribbled unstoppable. The young girl was hitting Hoseok’s back and was thrashing around, screaming in loud, belly laughter. She was trying hard to curl her toes again but it was too hard since his fingers were preventing her.

“Hm... Do you remember that song? La la la laaaa~” Hoseok started playing her toes like piano, occasionally nibbling them. Nefeli let out a higher scream every time she was getting her toes nibbled, slowly losing her mind from how much it tickled.

“HOSEAHAHAHAHAOK PLEAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAHAOT THAHAHAHAHAT AHAHAHAHAHA!” she screamed in laughter, trying to escape, but nothing was working.

“Aw, so you ARE ticklish! That’s adorable!” the young lad pressed tiny, fast kisses all over Nefeli’s foot and on each toe separately, before going back to nibbling.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAOT MY FEEHAHAHAHAHAT AHAHAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHAHASE!” Nef’s voice came out raspy and tired, and after that, she fell into silent laughter.

She was feeling like her lungs were burning and her mouth was stinging from how much she was laughing. Her stomach was aching and her head was spinning around.

“Coochie coochie coo Neffie!” Hoseok pulled her legs higher and nibbled the middle of her soles, making her let out a loud scream and then stop moving at all from how tired she was and how weak her body was at that point.

The boy must have sensed how Nefeli had stopped responding and let the poor girl go, pulling her onto his lap. He kept rubbing delicate circles on her back soothingly, helping her breath come back to its normal and her body relax and recover faster “Okay okay, calm down now, sunshine”

Nefeli leaned her head on Hoseok’s shoulder, while the music from some minutes ago was still playing as a background. She was relaxing under Hoseok’s touch while a smile was still on her face and her legs were brought on her stomach.

“That was sohohoho mean!” she giggled out tiredly, covering her red face.

“Well, I know, but it was fun, wasn’t it?” Hoseok nudged her lightly, making her giggle a little more and blush.

However, she couldn’t help but nod in response. She knew Hoseok had already understood how she enjoyed it, so no point in lying to him.

The young lad chuckled and kissed her cheek, helping her up and shaking her a little “Now let’s go back to dancing, alright? We left a choreo in the middle”

Nefeli chuckled and changed the song, getting ready “Just in case you need to touch my sides again”

Hoseok laughed loudly and got into position, waiting for the lyrics to come up “Ohohokay okay don’t worry, no more tickling. At least for now” he winked.

As the lyrics started coming up, the two friends started dancing, while Hoseok was occasionally poking Nef’s side, making her squeal and giggle. And lemme tell you the boys found the young girl on the floor panting and giggling while Hoseok was poking her tummy.

41 notes · View notes

mcwriting · 3 years

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The Marriage Project (8)

Hello, hello, hello! Here’s chapter 8 after a long break since chapter 7! If you haven’t all ready, make sure you go check out the prologue to Sweet Home Alabama once you’re done here, as I may post the first chap very soon!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

You hadn’t really told anyone what you’d been doing Sunday, and especially left out the part where you were with Tom.

Once getting home the previous night, you’d quickly taken off your makeup and brushed your teeth before essentially passing out on your bed. You’d also snoozed your alarm enough times that you’d had to rush to school that morning, getting to class with only a minute to spare.

In the afternoon, your friends sat around a lunch table discussing how your weekends had gone.

“Mine was pretty boring. How about yours, y/n?” Caroline asked.

“It was fine. Mostly did homework. Oh, and I took some senior pictures yesterday, but that’s it.”

“Oh that’s why your hair is straight?” someone else asked.

“Yeah, I got home late and woke up late so I just tossed on some jeans this morning.”

“Where even were you? Your snap maps said you were at the lake,” Alexis stated.

To say that question made you nervous was an understatement. You didn’t want to give anything away so you tried to keep it vague.

“Oh, yeah. The photographer knew of a place out there we could go so I said yes.”

“Who was your photographer? I’ve been looking to get pictures done,” Caroline said.

Well, there goes ambiguity.

“Hah, well, Nikki Holland.”

“Isn’t that Tom’s mom?” Alexis asked, squinting at you. You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been at their house a lot for the project and her whole career is photography so she asked me if I wanted her to do my pictures for free. I couldn’t turn that down.

“So that’s why you and Tom were at the same location yesterday!” Alexis exclaimed.

“What! Keep your voice down!”

“So it’s true? You and Tom took your senior pictures together? I was waiting until you’d admit why you were together.”

“Okay there are so many things I need to address but firstly, we did not take them together, we just did them at the same time. And secondly, since when do you have Tom on snap?”

Alexis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Everyone else looked surprised and kept quiet.

“Remember sophomore year when I went to that party while you were out of town? And I told you I made out with someone? Well….”

“ALEXIS!”

“I was drunk, okay? By the next day I realized how gross it was, but I kept him on snap so I could keep tabs for when we talked trash about him.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared blankly across the table at your best friend.

“And you just didn’t think to tell me that you, I don’t know, made out with my mortal enemy and have had him on snap for the past 2 years?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me! Obviously it was the one time, and we’ve never sent each other a single snap. This was about you anyways and how you and Tom spent yesterday together. Where were you, actually?” Alexis asked, looking at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes.

“His grandparents have a lake house, okay? His mom planned the whole thing and the leaves were pretty colors, so it was whatever.”

“Hm, I guess so…” Alexis trailed, giving you one final look of “this conversation isn’t over” before someone brought up a different topic.

With volleyball regionals that upcoming weekend and Tom having an away game, you and he decided to work together that Thursday at his place.

You quickly rinsed off after practice and headed over to his house where he was waiting at the door.

“Took you awhile,” he commented as you came up the sidewalk.

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught talking to coach about this weekend. It also takes forever to get these leggings on right out of the shower,” you joked, gesturing down at your athletic pants.

You got to work pretty quickly as there was a lot to do as compared to normal. By the time you finished, it was almost dinnertime.

“Oh, I think my mom finished all those pictures if you want them. Let’s go find her,” Tom suggested, leading you downstairs.

Her and Dom were in the kitchen cooking together. It was sweet watching them interact.

“Hey, mom? Did you say you had that flash drive done?” Tom interrupted, causing both parents to turn.

“Yes! I’m glad you reminded me. Dom, hold down the fort while I go get that.”

She led you to her office, then dug around her desk until she found it, handing it to you.

“You know, dinner will be ready in probably 10 minutes. You’re free to eat with us tonight,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You never impose on us! And absolutely, we always make more than enough food so the boys can take leftovers to school.”

Well if you’re sure… I’ll text my mom and make sure she doesn’t mind.”

She didn’t, so as you waited for dinner, you sat down on a living room couch, Tom taking a recliner nearby. From the corner of your eye you saw Paddy walk in the room and freeze when he saw you.

“Y/n! Lovely to see you on this fine evening,” he greeted, sitting tentatively on the other end of the couch. You held back a chuckle at his word choice.

“And you as well, sir. How was your day?” you asked, trying to get him out of his shell.

His eyes widened as he told you all about his school day. You prepared to reply when Dom came and announced the food was done.

You followed everyone to the dining room and stood watching, not wanting to accidentally take someone’s seat.

“Oh, you can sit here, y/n,” Paddy said, pulling out a seat for you in the middle of the table. You glanced to Tom, who was rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Paddy. What a gentleman you are,” you complimented as he helped tuck in your chair. He took the seat on the left of you as Tom sat on your right. Directly across from you were Sam, then Harry and Dom on either side. Nikki took the head.

“Y/n, why don’t you get what you want first,” Nikki suggested, gesturing over the food. There was spaghetti, salad, and bread. You got only a little bit of each thing, trying to be polite.

“That’s all you want? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat more on the bus to soccer games than that,” Tom commented. You raised your eyebrows at him and nudged his knee with yours.

“Thomas! Don’t be rude! Y/n, you’re free to however much or little you’d like. You can always go back for more later, too.”

Dinner went relatively smoothly aside from that, most of the conversation being centered on you as different family members wanted to know different things (Paddy especially as he’d trained his eyes on you almost the entire evening). For the most part, Tom was quiet except to crack a few jokes or answer something you asked him.

As everyone was finishing their meals, you offered to help clean up.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s Tom’s job to do the dishes tonight,” Dom told you.

“I don’t mind helping him. I can dry if nothing else.”

After being reminded a few times that you shouldn't feel the need to, you went with Tom to the kitchen anyways, holding a towel.

“You really don’t have to help me, you know. You’re technically our guest,” he said as the sink filled with water.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do anyways since I finished my homework.”

You worked together pretty much silently, falling into a comfortable rhythm. As you set down the last plate, Tom spoke up.

“Hey y/n, think fast.”

“Wha- TOM!” you exclaimed, as he had shot water at you, making the front of your shirt wet. “Oh you are so dead for that!”

You jumped on his back, pressing your wet shirt against him, causing his own shirt to dampen. He thrashed around, the both of you laughing.

“What the hell is going on in- oh,” said Sam, who entered the room.

You both froze in place, you quickly sliding off Tom as Sam looked at you skeptically.

“Your brother just sprayed me with the faucet, so I was getting back at him,” you tried to convince him. It is what happened after all.

“Right... I was just coming to grab something from the drawer, so I’ll leave you all to it,” he said awkwardly as he dug around the drawer and quickly made his leave.

You and Tom both looked at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter.

“You know you’re lucky this is a dark shirt,” you said after a moment.

“Am I though?”

“TOM!”

When you got home a little bit later, you decided to plug in your flash drive and look at all the pictures Nikki had taken. You were marveling at her work when your phone started buzzing. It was Alexis.

“Hey, what’s up?” you picked up, confused as to why she’d call on a Thursday night.

“Hey. I saw that you were home so I figured I was good to call. Are you alone?”

“Yes, and why do you need me alone?”

She paused.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry for bringing that stuff up about Tom in front of the girls Monday, but, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to get you alone again, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay what is going on?” You’re scaring me a little.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, because I know you and we came up with that whole revenge thing at the beginning of the semester but… do you… have feelings for Tom?”

You were taken aback at her question.

“What! Me have feelings for Tom? Are you crazy?”

She sighed.

“Well it’s just that, you two are always together now, your usual bickering has turned into normal banter, and you literally traveled to take pictures with him last weekend. It just seems like something else is there, and the whole school is starting to pick up on it.”

Ironically, you had frozen on a picture of you and Tom from Sunday, one of you standing in your sports uniforms back to back.

“Okay so maybe we’re kind of friends now, but that doesn’t mean I like him! And how many times do I have to say that the pictures were just at the same time?”

“Then explain to me why his mom’s website has multiple pictures of you two together?”

Your blood ran cold and stomach dropped.

“Wait, what?” you breathed, immediately going to pull up her page. Like Alexis said, a picture of the two of you posing was at the top of the home page. It was the same one you’d been looking at before. “Oh, no,” you whispered.

“Are you seeing it?” she asked.

You gulped.

“Yep. But, it’s not that bad, right? I mean she takes tons of sports pictures and we look super serious. It’s not like we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other or anything.” you rationalized, half joking at the end of your sentence.

“You might want to scroll down, then…”

You went past a photo of just you on the dock railing in your jumpsuit to find one of Tom lifting you over his shoulder, but of you laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me? I’ve had lots of guy friends and most of them don't do that to me.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m sure. He was getting back at me for something and acted like he was gonna throw me in the lake. I didn’t realize Nikki took any pictures of it. I’ll ask Tom about it.”

“If you say so… I’ll believe you. But you do know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I do, and I’m telling you right now that nothing has happened or will ever happen. We’re just friends, okay? Now I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?” you finished.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she signed off, ending the call.

You felt another pit in your stomach thinking about how you’d lied to her. You definitely didn’t have feelings, but why didn’t you tell Alexis about that moment you’d had in his room a couple weeks back, or how you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder Sunday night, or even how you’d accidentally seen him naked?

Because she’d think there’s something there.

But there isn’t.

But..?

You shook the thoughts away as you texted Tom, asking him to take a glance at his mom’s website.

“Omg I have no idea why she used the third picture. I’ll see if she’ll change it” he answered.

You were glad he would save your asses like that, but felt a twinge of sadness for it to be replaced. You almost didn’t mind it being there.

A/N: another long awaited marriage project! I have been working so hard to get this out while going through rewrites and working on sweet home alabama, but hopefully this will hold y’all over for now. As always, thank you so much and feel free to hit up my asks any time!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland story #tom holland series #tom holland au #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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velvet-apricots · 3 years

Text

Dancing Bondrewd

An alternate first meeting between Arette and Bondrewd that also gives a hint as to his twisted reasoning for why uhe chooses children for his work.

. I low key consider this the canon now. Its part of a larger “All in One” 30 chapter fic that I probably wont share considering its all things i have already published.

But to have it all in one place, flowing from chapter to chapter, I kinda needed that for my own sanity.

But yeah, here you are, I hope you enjoy it!

On the day of Arette’s twenty-fourth birthday, there was a great festival. Wakuna the Chosen had returned to Orth, and in his possession a new special grade relic. The Guild was calling it “Zoaholic”. This discovery meant more wealth for the town, a welcome gift.

Arette was in her nicest dress, weaving through the crowd and making her way to a pastry stand, with little meat and custard pies shaped like Wakuna’s whistle. Her mother would have called it ridiculous. But Arette wanted one immediately.

A man was next to her at the stall, a child’s hand in his own. He was a sallow skinned man who looked like he was exhausted, a black whistle around his neck and resting atop an off white-cravat. He was not handsome by any means, but he wasn’t ugly either. An average man. His voice however was quite pleasant. “Which one do you want?”

“Uh… I want… I want the one with beef.” The child said tugging on his hand.

“Alright… Two meat pies. The beef one, and a pork belly.”

Arette looked at him as their orders were being fetched. She smiled, and made small talk. “Is he your son? He is very cute.”

He looked at her. His eyes had dark circles under them. “No. He is one of the orphans. One of the older children took his spending money. I am getting him a pie.”

“That is very kind of you.” Arette said, watching as the man handed the pie to the child, ruffling his head and then nudging him along.

“I wish I could have all of them.” he said with a hint of bitterness, watching the boy run off.

“You like children, I take it?”

“I do. I want to save all of them. Take them all into my home and raise them. Costs too much though.”

“It sounds like you want to be a savior.” Arette teased, ordering her own pie, one filled with custard. She followed him as he moved on, taking his coat sleeve into her hand.

“You were on Wakuna’s team. I can tell. You look like someone who’s just gotten up from a deep delve.”

His eyes darted to where she took his coat in hand, then he looked just above her head. “Observant, aren’t you?”

Arette pulled her moon whistle out from between her breasts, his eyes darting to that next. The chain on it was far too long and often got lost in her cleavage. She had to get a shorter one. “Observant and familiar.”

“Ah, I see. You too are a delver.” He seemed to perk up, and looked her in the eyes now, interest sparked. “How far have you gone down.”

“I only just managed a trip past that old ship in the third layer. I found a second grade on that delve.”

They spent an hour talking about a few exploits, though compared to his, her’s seemed so meager. Eventually she finally got him to tell her about the Zoaholic.

“It looks like a butt?”

“When inactive, yes. When we found it it looked more like a flower made of flesh.”

“It must do something amazing.” Arette said, looking at him. He had a glassy eyed look, eyes darting wildly. “Are you okay?”

“I am… fine. Distracted.”

Arette stood up, taking his hand in hers. “Dance with me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dance with me, silly. It's my birthday today, so give this girl a dance.” She pulled him to his feet, dragging him into the street where other people danced. His feet were clumsy, and he watched them as he moved with her, but in time he was able to mirror her foot work. A simple jig, the two of them twirling around one another.

“Feeling better?” She asked, grinning at him

His chapped lips curled in a slight smile. “Yes. It's not as… Dizzying now.”

“More spinning made you less dizzy huh? You are a little weird.” Arette teased, she took the front of his coat in her hands, leaning in closer. “I want another gift, if that's okay.”

“Oh? Very well, what do you-”

She planted a kiss on his chapped lips, pulling away and grinning. “Let's keep dancing. Hm?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but a woman grabbed Arette by the arm. Older and blond.

Her mother.

“Arette, what are you doing? Kissing that man?” She hissed, grip tight, “Don’t you know who he is?”

Arette pulled her arm out of her mother’s grip, scowling. “I moved out of the house, Momma. I can kiss whoever I want. This man just got back from the delve with Wakuna-”

“You stupid girl. That man is a-”

“Was it gossip you heard schmoozing it up to the other ladies?” Arette interrupted, “Acting like you care about what Delvers do? Well I don’t care what you have to say. Go away and leave me alone.”

She took the man’s hand and led him away from her mother, off to find another place to dance. Thankfully her mother did not follow her.

“I am so sorry about that.” Arette groaned, “She never stops with all of that worrying.”

“She is just trying to protect you.” the man said gently, and Arette grinned at him.

“She wants to protect me from a man who wants to save every child he sees? Oh sure. Sounds terrifying.”

They danced until the festival ended, and Arette took his arm in her hands, clinging to him. “Are you doing anything more tonight?” she asked. She tried to be as obvious as possible that she desired his company.

“I am afraid I am.” He said, looking at a group of delvers that were approaching him. Black and moon whistles both. “I need rest. I plan on returning to the abyss soon.”

“Oh, I understand.” Arette said. “Maybe we will run into each other some time down there.”

“Perhaps.”

He watched her go, giving him one final wave goodbye. He then turned, the group of men parting so he could pass them.

By the next morning the just discovered special grade relic, Zoaholic, was gone. Vanished without a trace.

#made in abyss #oc x canon #pn's fanfiction

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loverboytrashmouth · 3 years

Text

Of Macchiatos and Nicknames (part 2)

pairing; Reddie

word count; 2.3k

summary; Eddie keeps dragging Bill to the coffee shop for his now daily chats with a certain barista. Bill didn’t think he could get tired of drinking coffee. Meanwhile, Richie’s coworker is tired of him being even more clumsy with coffee than usual.

a/n; heyoooo here’s part two of my reddie coffee shop meet cute :) here’s part one if you missed it. and you can read this on ao3 here if you’d like! enjoy !!

This was the sixth - seventh, maybe? Who’s counting - day in a row where Eddie found himself sitting across from Bill at his new favorite study spot. The only thing that differed from their first homework session spent at the campus cafe was Eddie’s seat of choice. The second day Eddie had asked Bill to switch seats with him, making up some excuse about his chair being unsteady. Of course, Bill knew Eddie just wanted a better view of the guy messily making coffees behind the counter, but he kept this knowledge to himself.

And, of course, Bill knew why, despite Eddie’s hatred of customer service interactions, the shorter boy would insist on ordering their coffees for them every visit. Or why, on day four, Eddie started waiting for their drinks by the counter instead of setting up his study area while they were being made. And Bill knew why Eddie would constantly get distracted while he attempted to go over calculus equations with him, only to get a small “hm?” in response, as if Eddie had just come back down to Earth after a long journey on Planet Trashmouth.

Bill was happy his friend had found someone that caused the same look in his eyes that Bill would get himself when looking at his boyfriend, Mike. And at first, Bill was happy to keep his teasing to himself (for the most part).

But on day six (seven?), Bill wasn’t running on a good night’s rest, and the caffeine wasn’t helping.

“If you don’t s-s-stop with this school girl crush sh-shit and finally ask the guy out, I’m gonna s-stop acting as your excuse to c-come here everyday,” Bill snapped when another one of his questions was met with Eddie snapping back into reality, barely hearing what he had said. Eddie’s cheeks turned the shade of pink Bill had gotten too familiar seeing them being, before giving his friend apologetic eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry I keep getting distracted,” Eddie raised his arm to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment, guilt beginning to cloud his features at the realization that he was being completely rude to his friend. Bill softened at this, putting on his signature comforting smile.

“It’s f-fine, really. I just think it’s time for you guys to cut the flirting and actually do s-something, that’s all,” Bill said warmly, assuring his friend he wasn’t upset with him. “Plus, I never thought I’d get t-tired of drinking coffee. And I don’t th-think I’m at that point yet, but oh, am I getting there.” Eddie chuckled, taking another glance over at Richie, who was currently taking another student’s order. The smaller boy sighed.

“I’ve never done this shit before, though! I thought he’d ask me by now. Shit, maybe even for my number at least,” Eddie mumbled the last part, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms, feeling defeated. Richie seemed to be bold enough that Eddie figured he would only have to show up to the coffee shop once, maybe twice more and boom, he’d have a date before the week ended. But with the way things were going for him, he’d be surprised if he didn’t develop a caffeine addiction before learning how it would feel for him to plant a kiss on those slightly chapped lips he couldn’t stop thinking about. Bill’s smile grew warmer, if that were even possible.

“D-Do you want help?” Eddie frowned dramatically and nodded.

Richie flirted with everyone and anyone that would let him do so. It was all just playful banter to him. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Until that fanny pack wearing, freckle ridden boy had walked in during his daily afternoon shift at the campus cafe. With him it meant something, something Richie could feel in his bones, that spread across his skin in goosebumps and blushes.

Beverly had noticed as well, that Richie was very clearly falling for this particular student. She was his best friend and knew him almost better than he knew himself, so of course she noticed.

Her tell-tale sign, though, was Richie’s lack of coordination within the past week or so. He was already a pretty clumsy guy, but he was at least able to kind of get his shit together during work. But Bev noticed the shred of coordination he’d possess once he had his apron on had gone out the window when Eddie began showing up more and more.

So she wasn’t all that surprised when she heard the familiar clanking of the metal milk steamer hitting the tiled floor, Richie mumbling a slightly aggressive “shit” under his breath. The redhead huffed out a sigh, turning to her best friend with an annoyed glare. Richie gave her a toothy grin in response.

“My bad, Bevster. Won’t happen again, scout’s honor.”

“You’ve said that every time you’ve dropped something for the past six days,” Beverly retorted, shaking her head as she turned for some paper towels to hand over.

“Seven,” Richie corrected. He grabbed the paper towels from his friend’s hand, taking one last glance over his shoulder at Eddie, giving him a wink, before getting on his knees to clean up his spill. He smiled proudly to himself, knowing he definitely just made Eddie flustered once again. Beverly crouched down so she was eye level with Richie, her chin resting on her knee.

“Just ask the boy out already, Tozier,” she half whispered, giving him the look she always gives him, the one that tells him he’s being a pain but she loves him anyways. Richie looked up from his cleaning before responding, catching a glimpse of said look.

“All in good time, Ms. Marsh. I’m just buttering him up,” he replied, nudging Beverly with his elbow. Suddenly, his smile twitched, letting out a soft chuckle. “I really want him to say yes,” he continued quietly, beginning to fidget with the paper towel in his hands, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

Beverly let out a breathy chuckle beside him, patting him on the top of his beanie where she would usually ruffle his curls like she’d always do when giving Richie her sisterly advice. “Dumbass, do you not see the way he blushes whenever you even look at him? Not to mention I’ve never seen him here before last week when you guys met, and now he’s here, like, everyday. It doesn’t take a fuckin’ rocket scientist to see a lovestruck little gay boy when he’s dead in front of you.” Richie laughed and shook his head, adjusting his glasses with the same nervous tick he’s had since adolescence.

“If you’re sure, little red. I’ll… I’ll work on not pussying out,” he said with his crooked smile. His smile turned devious before adding, “Maybe I can work on getting his pussy out, if you know what I me-” He was cut off with an elbow to his knee, making him wobble due to his brief loss of balance.

“Beep beep, Richie. God, you’re the worst,” Bev snapped with no heat behind her words. She got up, dusting off her knees, letting the trashmouth clean up his trash.

Now it was day nine (day nine for sure, Eddie recounted all of their encounters in his head one night when he couldn’t sleep, so he knew, nine days). Eddie had decided against dragging Bill with him to the coffee shop this time around, mostly due to his guilt for helplessly ignoring his friend every time he was in Richie’s presence. He felt like such a lovesick teenager, like he should be laying in bed on his stomach, feet swaying in the air while he wrote in his diary about his crush on the campus barista.

Eddie was sat in the familiar spot facing the counter at the table he and Bill usually favored, laptop open, but not doing any actual work. Instead his eyes trailed above the screen, watching Richie wipe down the counter after, no doubt, spilling something again. Eddie had wondered if he was always so clumsy, or if that was reserved for when he was around. He smiled at the idea of Richie getting so nervous around him that he couldn’t help but spill a coffee or two. Or ten.

Glancing down briefly to check the time displayed on the upper right hand of his screen, Eddie noticed he had a mere couple of minutes before he knew Richie was set to clock out for the day. In the nearly week and a half he had been spending at the cafe, Eddie observed the barista would run out the moment his apron was off his lanky figure on the weekdays, presumably to make it to a class. On weekends, however, he’d fall back a bit, making himself a coffee and chatting with his red-haired coworker, all while giving the shorter boy those small glances that made the latter’s chest flutter. Day nine was a Saturday, leaving Eddie all the time he needed after Richie’s shift to build up enough courage to approach him.

Fortunately enough for Eddie, he ended up not being the one walking over to the other boy.

“Ya here all by your lonesome today, boy,” Richie asked in a ridiculous southern accent, his hands grabbing onto his belt and doing his best cowboy saunter. His apron was off and replaced with a ridiculously patterned button up sitting open over his black tee, his curls free from the beanie that he’d wear during his shifts. Eddie chuckled as he shook his head at the antics.

“Yeah, Bill, he… had a… thing,” he answered lamely, mentally slapping himself, which he found himself doing a lot around Richie. Eddie had recently picked up a habit of speaking before his brain could fully process what he was about to say. It was as if he felt as though he constantly needed to be talking, no matter what he said, as long as it would keep Richie’s attention on him.

Little did Eddie know, Richie couldn’t keep his attention off him even if he tried.

Richie slid into the chair across from Eddie, his eyes never leaving the latter’s face, the ever present smirk plastered on his chapped lips. “Well, I don’t see what ‘thing’ could be more important than hanging out with a cutie like you, Eds. What kinda boyfriend is this Bill guy anyhow?” Richie’s smirk faded slightly at the last sentence, giving Eddie an expectant look. Eddie’s eyes widened before sputtering out an obnoxiously loud laugh.

“You- You think I’m wi- with Bill,” the smaller boy managed to get out, his eyes crinkled and his arm snaking around his stomach when he felt a pain in his abdomen from laughter. Richie let out a chuckle across from him, and Eddie opened his eyes in time to see the barista raise his hands in defense.

“Hey, spaghetti man, I’m just making sure you’re on the menu,” Richie responded with his usual flirty grin and eyebrow wiggle. Eddie’s laughter slowed and he felt his face heat up, as it always does around Richie. Despite this, the shorter boy scoffed at the nickname usage, again, as he always did.

“And what makes you think all these ridiculous nicknames are gonna get you anywhere?”

“It’s all part of my plan. Woo you with my charms and incredible nicknaming abilities. Don’t lie, I know you like ‘em,” Richie teased, and of course, he was right. Eddie’s attempts to deflect the nicknames with a disgruntled noise or eyeroll constantly failed at the hands of the rosey color that would appear on his cheeks shortly after. Eddie elected to ignore the comment rather than deny it.

“Well, no, I’m not dating Bill. He’s my best friend. He’s already got a boyfriend, plus he’s not really my type anyways,” Eddie shrugged with a small smirk on his lips. Richie perked up at this, straightening his posture and resting his elbow on the back of his seat, legs crossed, eyebrows raised at the shorter boy.

“Oh, I see. And what would you say tickles your fancy, dear old Edward,” Richie questioned in his old British woman voice, one of his personal favorites. He’d never forget his friends’ reactions when he first used that one in high school; he had even earned a chuckle from Stan. When he received a breathy giggle from the boy across from him now, he knew this Voice was an oldie but a goodie.

“Hmm,” Eddie started, putting on his best thinking face. Richie couldn’t help the fond look that crept onto his features while he watched Eddie rub his chin and purse his lips, fully not believing anyone could be so cute cute cute so effortlessly. “I like guys that are tall, pretty lanky. Long hair. Bonus if they can make me laugh.” Eddie had avoided Richie’s gaze throughout his description, his eyes not landing back on the taller boy until he was done talking and already had his bottom lip nervously between his teeth. He was met with a giddy smile on Richie’s part, causing Eddie to release his lip and break into a smile of his own.

“What a coincidence. I’m into tiny, feisty dudes that wear fanny packs.” Richie’s smile grew wider as he spoke, meanwhile Eddie’s simmered into a pout and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t call me tiny, asswipe,” he retorted as he playfully kicked at Richie’s black converse beneath the table. “That’s a nickname I won’t tolerate.”

“Hardly a nickname, Eddie baby. Just a descriptor,” Richie replied, kicking him back lightly with a laugh. “It’s true, and it’s what makes ya so darn cute!” He punctuated his comment by reaching over the table to pinch Eddie’s cheek, receiving a slap of the hand from the other boy.

The two continued their flirty banter and playful bickering until they heard the clattering of the metal that closed up the coffee counter, and saw the sun disappear behind the campus buildings and be replaced with nightfall. When Eddie walked back to his dorm that night, he had a new contact in his phone, a warm spot on his cheek where Richie had briefly pressed his lips to, and a fluttering feeling in his heart he couldn’t shake even if he wanted to.

#my writing #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fic #reddie fanfic #it #it chapter one #it chapter two #it 2017 #it 2019

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wlfkssd · 3 years

Text

A Palm Touch

based on the prompt ‘ubbe + palm touch’ sent in by @ritual-unions-gotme <3

summary : a short piece about ubbe and torvi taking floki and the kids to the beach in the golden land. and some palm touching.

warnings : mentions of children dying ( asa, hali and angrboda ), mentions of helga’s death, mentions of floki’s failing memory ( which i presume is dementia ), brief mention of torvi being pregnant again.

pairing : ubbe x torvi.

words : 1,013.

Days such as these in the Golden Land feel almost like dreams. From the flourishing settlement they've built, close to Floki's treehouse, it's only a short walk down to the shore. Unlike Norway, or more specifically the harbour in Kattegat, there is no wind most days and the salt from the sea doesn't mark the fair skin of the children's faces. In fact, the only things that do are the red or white stripes of paint, put there often by the Natives.

Ubbe carries his son, Ragnar, on his shoulders - as his father often did when he was a child - and allows him to catch a leaf here and there from the slightly higher branches of the trees that line the well-used trail. He's always shown them immediately; marvelling at their wonderous colour. Greens in summer, browns in autumn and nothing but cold, bare twigs in winter.

Torvi walks in her husband's wake with their daughter on her hip. Floki lags behind one or two steps, making faces so as to bring laughter to the little girl. There's no sweeter sound than that echoing about the woods.

"You can hold her, if you want, Floki. I trust you." Torvi stops and turns, eyes devastatingly caring. For a moment, she can see him considering it.

"No, no. Why would I want to do that?" Floki almost recoils though; voice whimsical. His face scrunches as his head tilts, once broad shoulders now dwarfed by a huge blanket to keep him warm despite the humidity. "I don't even like children, anyway."

The look that passes between them is one of absolute knowing. And then Floki laughs - that contagious little snicker - to signal he's not going to explain further. But Torvi knows that the death of his own daughter and the loss of Helga at the hands of a child she tried to help still holds firm in whatever memory remains.

"That is a shame. We might have named our second son after you." Turning back, Torvi continues on down the path, watching her step and hearing the giggles of her child.

A while later, they're settled and the sound of the waves brings about a peace unlike life ever allowed back home. Here, there is no more war. No more death.

"I don't know if you ever visited the Seer in Kattegat but it was practice to lick his palm." Ubbe tells her, smiling, both hands preoccupied with one of Torvi's as they lay beside each other, midday sun warming their tanned faces. He moves her fingers across the sky, using the spaces between them to let the light through, then blocking it again with her palm. It almost feels like a game Ubbe could play forever.

"Would you lick my palm for a prophecy?" Torvi jokes. Fingers of her free hand, closest to her husband, lazily play with the short hairs at his forehead.

"I would do anything you ask." His response seems subconscious as Ubbe traces the lines on Torvi's palm as though he were Floki; respecting each and every soft groove like the keel of the most beautiful ship. Almost as an after-thought, he brings her hand down for a lasting kiss. One that turns to two, then three as weather-chapped lips make their way up and up and up until he's half rolled over and leaning in to press their noses together. To breathe in one another.

"Stay close to your brother, Helga!"

Ubbe's attention turns from Torvi to where Floki sits, wrapped in his blanket a little ways across the beach. Thin-boned hand gesturing and Torvi's eyes follow as she sits up, slowly.

"You know, perhaps we should tell him one day that her name isn't Helga." Torvi remarks, gaze drawn to the children, playing in the shallow waves by the ocean's edge. They laugh and splash one another; Ragnar's hair having grown long enough for his sister to pull now. Ubbe grunts beside her, focus still upon the old man.

"Don't you think he's been through enough? Let him call her Helga if he wants to." Ubbe shrugs, clear eyes turning up to squint against the sun. He's outstretched, propping his weight on his elbows. An ankle resting easily atop the other as they lounge together upon the dry sand of the golden beach. "Who is it harming, hm?"

"Nobody, I suppose, but himself. Isn't that why we agreed not to call her Lagertha?"

Torvi has a point and Ubbe can't argue with it. Instead, he adjusts himself to sit properly as well, reaching over to lay a protective touch to the bump barely showing at her stomach. "You're right. But I don't think it would make any difference. His mind is worse these days. Do you really want to upset him like that?"

"I don't want to upset him at all but I'm afraid. One day she will ask who Helga is and will you be the one to tell her?" Ubbe catches her worried glance and keeps it. Though they may be some years apart in age, their minds work in very similar ways. He leans to kiss Torvi's hair.

"If I am the one she asks, then yes. I will tell her." He murmurs, lips still close to the crown of her head, before easing away and smiling again. "What do you think we should call this one?"

For a moment, Torvi only blinks. Then she sighs and lets him change the subject; adding her own warm and stroking touch above his on her belly.

"I don't know. Perhaps if it's a boy, we should call him Bjørn. After all, it is because of him that we are together like this." Much as it hurts to admit - and it really does hurt - Ubbe once again cannot deny that Torvi is right. Though they both still mourn the loss of Asa and Hali, the grief lessens with each passing day; the future they have together blossoming from the ashes of their shared tragedies.

"And if it is a girl?" Ubbe asks.

"Then we will call her Helga."

#ubbe #torvi #ubbe x torvi #floki #ritual-unions-gotme #requests #/ this one took so long and i'm only half pleased with it but i tried ????

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter eight: the living sea of waking dreams

word count: 10k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: emotional manipulation/some weird humiliation tactics (joseph is a fucker), some weird/uncomfortable relationships getting dredged up, john is a jealous little shit. some spooky scaries go on, blood and body horror (i think? tagging just to be safe).

notes: we've got some ~things~ going on here in this next chapter. i feel really excited about where this story is going and how we're going to get all these little threads put together, but mostly, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! we've got a lot going on but i promise, it will all (hopefully) be worth it in the end. and also, a tiny reprieve: some soft elliot, as a treat, because we deserve it.

thank you to everyone reading and giving me your feedback!! i love hearing from yall <3 special thanks to @shallow-gravy and @vasiktomis for listening to me slog through this chap : ))))

“Knock-knock!”

Isolde took in a deep breath, closing her eyes and willing patience to the forefront of her mind. It had only been an hour or so since she’d left the chapel, Joseph’s words ringing in her head, a death knell.

Not after the things I’ve done for you.

Even still, even now—he knew how to get under her skin. She thought she’d never wanted to kiss and throttle someone in equal amounts, in the entirety that she had known them; to think that once, she had let Joseph take her in an embrace, sweep the hair from her shoulder and bury his face in her neck and whisper sweet things into her skin.

He wasn’t the same, anymore. And neither was she.

“Come in, Santiago,” said Arden, from where she had set up her little space across the cabin’s modest room. The heater on the floor rattled laboriously, clicking and chugging away. Isolde swept her eyes over Arden’s space—a small makeshift bed on the couch, the table stacked with a few books and a notepad she was scribbling dutifully on. Isolde had politely offered her the bed, even though she didn’t want to, and the woman had waved her off and said it was no trouble at all, that she often fell asleep on the couch at home anyway.

It was still weird, thinking that someone was—with Jacob. For a long time. But, she supposed if there was any Seed boy she thought would be in a long-term relationship, then—

The door to the cabin swept open, revealing the dark-haired boy from before. Well, perhaps not boy, but young man. Certainly too young and good-looking to be wasting his time with the likes of Eden’s Gate, wasn’t he?

“You don’t have to babysit me anymore, do you?” Arden asked, not once looking up from her writing.

“No, no. Unfortunately, our time together has drawn to a close.” Santiago lifted his arms, spread in defeat. His eyes, a vibrant blue, turned to Isolde. “I am actually here for you.”

“Me?” Isolde’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“Joseph has asked me to fetch you.”

“And you’re a good boy, so you do whatever he says,” she replied tartly.

Santiago flashed a grin that was all teeth-pearly, perfectly bleached teeth. He was far more groomed than any of the others she’d seen trawling about the compound. “I am nothing if not loyal, princesa.”

Isolde sighed, passing a hand over her face as a headache began to fester and bloom behind her eyelids. She thought she might have been more willing to kick up a fuss if she thought it was worth the drama—but it probably wasn’t. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Joseph was right; she couldn’t be of any help to them if she was being contrary just for the sake of her own spite. Even if she didn’t know where Joseph got off summoning her like she was part of the peasantry.

“Coming,” she sighed, picking her coat up off the bed and sliding it back on over her shoulders.

“A sweet word, coming from even sweet lips.”

“Alright, Romeo.”

She trudged out after Santiago in the snow, casting a quick glance around the compound. Though evening had fallen, the fluorescents surrounding lining the edges of the compound cast a cold, brutal light across it, highlighting every single pore of the place, every ragged inhabitant shuffling into their bunkhouse as watch switched and folks went to retire for the evening. Some of the roofs sagged with the weight of the snowfall, which trundled on without any kind of end in sight. Isolde couldn’t remember when she’d seen real, unadulterated sunshine last. In Georgia? Had it been that long?

None of it was anything like what John had told her. Of course, she had expected some differences—the man liked to embellish, to be sure—but the members of Eden’s Gate seemed to have lost their fire. They were wayward, adrift at sea, among waves of freezing cold water and what now seemed to be a resurgent threat that they had hoped to be rid of.

And Joseph, having comforted them so very little.

“Icy,” Santiago warned, offering her his hand as he opened the door inside with his other one. “Careful.”

“Thanks,” she muttered dryly. She took his hand anyway, pulling herself into the sputtering warmth of the chapel where—at the front—the silhouettes of Jacob and Joseph stood.

The two of them were suffused in a warm amber glow, but there was nothing warm about the mood in the room; the closer she got, she could hear Jacob’s insistent words—the firm, assertive gestures of his hands, the words, just didn’t feel like it was pertinent at the time, coming out of his mouth—the more she thought, I shouldn’t be here for this. Whatever they’re arguing about, whatever it is that’s gotten them to this point, I’m not supposed to be here.

Joseph didn’t respond to whatever it was that his brother was saying, but instead turned to look at her as she approached down the center aisle of the chapel. Despite the rattling warmth coming from several heaters placed throughout the chapel, Isolde felt a chill sink deep into the marrow of her bones.

“Thank you for coming,” he said by way of greeting. He lifted one hand and beckoned her forward when her feet slowed.

“I just hope this is something I need to be here for,” Isolde ventured cautiously, her gaze flickering to Jacob’s face. The redhead’s expression was drawn tight and hard, and not the way it normally was; it wasn’t calm and focused, but strained, like he was holding himself back from saying something to Joseph that he thought he might regret later.

She had never known Jacob to bite his tongue very much, but from her own experience with Joseph, well—he was apt at bringing out the worst in people.

“Did you know?” Joseph asked when she had finally come to a stop. “About my brother’s...” He wet his lips for a moment, his gaze darting across the empty space of the floor as he looked for the word he wanted to say. And then he landed: “Pursuits?”

Isolde blinked. “If you mean the woman he says is his partner—”

“Yes,” the blonde interjected, before she could finish—a thing he knew that she hated but he seemed unable to refrain from doing. “I do.”

Sol’s eyes narrowed. When she turned her gaze from Jacob to Joseph, she was greeted with the typical unreadable expression; as untroubled as the blue sky over a sunny sea.

But there were storm clouds. Somewhere, in there, on a horizon Joseph would not let her reach now and perhaps had not ever.

“I only knew of her today,” Isolde replied after a moment. “After we saw our little hunter out in Fall’s End, I imagine he felt it pressing that he retrieve her sooner rather than later.”

Joseph made a low noise. It was like a hm, but threatening. Hm, he said, interesting, that. But what it was he felt was so interesting about that particular line of information, Isolde couldn’t only venture a guess; and if she had to venture a guess, she would have said that it would probably be that he felt it was interesting that something was going on that he had not been aware of.

If there was one thing that she knew about Joseph, affirmatively, it was that he did not like not knowing.

“Isolde, why are you here?”

A familiar spark of anger lit, hot and fetid, in her belly. “Pardon me?

“Why are you here? In this compound? In Hope County?” Even as he spoke, Joseph’s gaze was fixed on the eldest Seed, the lines of his face peaceful and serene despite the idle venom burning in the timbre of his voice. “What did John send you here for?”

The anger burned up into soot, into dread, and sat just there, curled at the base of her neck. Isolde could not shake the idea that she had been brought in here to make a point, and that she really shouldn’t be there—that this was something Joseph and Jacob needed to settle between themselves, but that was never how Joseph had operated: fair had never been a stratagem in his playbook.

“Isolde,” Jacob said, his voice a low caution when she looked at him, shaking his head very slightly. It’s not worth it, he was saying, fighting, it’s not worth it.

“Joseph, this,” she plunged on pointedly, “is not something that I need to be a part of. I’ll go, so the two of you can—”

But when she went to depart, Joseph lifted his hand and pointed at her and ground out between his teeth, “Stay. Put.”

The poison in his voice was so potent it almost made her flinch. Almost. And then the indignation started to bloom: who do you think you are, to be talking to me like that? But they wouldn’t come; the words wouldn’t come, because when she lifted her gaze to Joseph’s and saw him looking at her, it was—

“I want you to say it, out loud, in front of Jacob,” he continued, the muscle of his jaw flexing viciously. “Tell him why John needed you here.”

Jacob said, raising his voice a little, “We all know why—”

“Because you are useless unless you are aware of what’s happening. Every detail. Isn’t that right?” he prompted. “Isolde?”

She felt her molars grind. It was clear, now, why he had asked her here. “Yes.”

Joseph turned his gaze to Jacob. “Is that what you want us to be? Want me to be? Ill-informed?”

The redhead was silent for a long heartbeat. He sucked his teeth, and said, “No, Joseph, I don’t—”

“No. More. Secrets.”

The blonde’s voice had pitched so low that she nearly couldn’t hear him, so close and low and intimate was it that he was speaking to his brother, so little space between them. Joseph looked to be controlling himself quite tightly; so very little of the leash available to himself, digging the choke chain deeper and deeper into him in an effort to remain intact.

“Joseph,” Jacob began, “I only—”

“A whole year?” the blonde bit out viciously. “An entire year you spent devoting your time to this—this—”

Isolde was familiar with the precipice at which Joseph was teetering. Right on the edge of saying something vicious and mean and unendingly cruel. She had pushed him there a few times before, in their brief few months together—had seen the way he pulled himself back time and time again, seconds away from grinding out some wretched insult.

“I won’t,” Joseph bit out, lifting a hand as though to temper himself, “tolerate it, Jacob.”

Silence stretched between the three of them for a moment, pulled taut as a rubber band. Though she knew why Joseph had wanted her here—to make a point, but also to put someone there to witness the verbal lashing—looking at the two of them now, she felt more than ever like an intruder on a world she knew so very little about.

John had done nothing to prepare her. He had given her the rosy version of the story, and even that included the cult and the killing and the residents of Hope County. It still hadn’t been enough.

The silence broke when Jacob said, “I understand, Joseph.”

For a second, there was nothing; just Joseph, sweeping his gaze over Jacob for a long moment, like he was trying to wring out any deception or sign that Jacob was being disingenuous—and of course, he could find none, and that meant there was only the tense, uncomfortable silence wadded up between them, in their own fists.

Finally, Joseph said, “That will be all,” and turned, tilting his face to the lukewarm light of the candles at the front of the chapel and closing his eyes.

The eldest Seed lingered for only a moment longer before he left; his eyes met with Isolde’s for a heartbeat before he made his decision, turning down the center walkway and heading for the doors. It wasn’t until they clicked shut that Isolde felt a tiny bit of relief—if only because the source of Joseph’s ire had now departed, and she could get a better look at him.

It was her job to make sure things were under control. John had asked her here for that exact reason—and this kind of in-fighting would be the kind of thing that would, eventually, be their unraveling if they didn’t get it under control. She had only seen Joseph so angry once before, almost over a year ago now, back before he was the Father of Eden’s Gate. Back when they had been—

There are things that I want to accomplish, and they’re best done with a wife—

“Joseph,” Isolde said, leaving the memory somewhere else—somewhere dark and deep she would never find it again, “what’s going on?”

The blonde did not open his eyes when he replied, “I cannot have secrets kept from me.” After a moment, he added, “And in that vein of thought, I should get in touch with our wayward brother.”

“Do you really think it’s that big of a deal?” she prompted again. “To have started a fight with Jacob over a woman that he—”

“Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.” His eyes fluttered open, the flicker of dark lashes illuminated by the amber glow, and he tilted his head to look at her. There was a hardness in his voice when he said, “God is perfect in knowledge, and I cannot be less. Not when He speaks directly to me.”

An unpleasant little thrill crawled down her spine when his eyes fixed on her, darting over her face like he wanted to savor her. “Then don’t use me as the whip you want to lash your brother with,” she snapped. “I’m not a humiliation tactic. You do know better than to do that to me.”

Joseph let out a little sigh. The corners of his mouth ticked upward, the shift in mood almost palpably changing the energy in the chapel—just like that, it was different. Not lighter, not better, but different.

“You’re right,” he agreed after a moment. “I do know you better than that.”

Isolde’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Deciding to forego that comment, she took a step forward, cinching her jacket in more securely around her waist. “You know what you cannot be, Joseph?” she asked. “You cannot be fighting with your brothers. Especially not the only one that’s here. Your people out there are disgruntled, and scared, and you can’t afford to be picking fights with the people who are the most loyal to you.”

“They are all,” Joseph replied, “loyal, Isolde." And then, after a moment of watching her: "Is this what you want to be doing? Herding us? Mothering us?”

“My professional opinion is that the image of your convent is severely lacking,” she bit out, once again ignoring the bait, “and the last thing you need to do is have them noticing that there’s a rift forming between the ones in charge. And yes—that is the only thing I can do for you lot at this point, and like an idiot, I agreed to come here and do it.”

Because I can’t say no to John, something tired inside of her said. Because I couldn’t say no to any of you, even if I wanted to.

The blonde reached up, and it took that gesture for Isolde to realize how closely they had drifted—it was so little effort, so little time between the movement of his hand and the time at which his fingers made contact with her cheek, brushing the hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. He moved so confidently and leisurely that Sol couldn’t think to pull back; and when she didn’t, the calloused fingertips trailed down the pillar of her throat, his eyes following their journey.

It was intimate; too soon her brain said, even though it had been so long since they had been in the same room, let alone regarded each other in even a passive capacity. But it was too soon enough that her brain fizzed out, the air moving thick as molasses in the journey between her mouth and lungs, the violent flashback of their closeness overwhelming her.

She said, “Joseph,” in a don’t kind of voice, and he dropped his hand from where it had come to a stop at the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

“It was smart of John, to ask you to come and shepherd us in his absence,” Joseph said, blithely ignoring the desperate little barb in the way Isolde said his name.

“I always thought you’d make a perfect Mother.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been several days since their conversation in the hallway that night, and John had barely seen hide nor hair of Elliot.

Honestly, it would have been impressive how quickly she could make herself inaccessible, were it not so frustrating. He couldn’t help but wonder what the implications there were—had she known she could do this all along, and had been indulging in him for some reason? Had she simply decided to be done and that was it, meaning that she hadn’t been done before?

Not that she was done now, anyway. Not if John had anything to say about that. But for a few days, she barely spared him a glance—passed him in the hallway when she got home with a muttered greeting on occasion. She woke before him, left to the stables without him, and left him alone in the house. Left him alone without her venom, without her eyes on him. With her mother, no less.

Scarlet was, on paper, exactly the kind of woman that John felt confident in his ability to charm. Single, wealthy by inheritance, a little older and always with a martini in hand by ten? If he couldn’t impress her, he had to be doing something wrong. But in a way that seemed to be very typical of the Honeysett women, Scarlet remained veritably unimpressed and even disdainful of his presence—even though she had insisted he stay with them.

More and more, he was becoming convinced that it was not going to be to his benefit.

“Good morning, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet greeted him from where she sat at the table, perusing her magazine. Not once did her eyes lift to meet his, and not once did an ounce of enthusiasm enter her voice. “You are missing from the stables again today, I see. Not a horse person?”

“I might find myself to be one,” John replied with a leisurely sort of bitterness, “if Elliot would only allow me to come.”

“Yes, it’s very annoying, isn’t it?” The blonde mused idly, over her cup of coffee. “To not be handed exactly what you want when you want it?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, pouring himself a cup of coffee and trying to remind himself that this was all temporary. This house, this town, Scarlet and Sylvia and Wyatt—it was all temporary, and soon enough they would be the least of his concerns. All of his time and attention would be wrapped up in Elliot and the baby, and what their lives would look like once the end had come.

Because it would come, and then she would see. She would understand that everything he’d done had been for them, for her and their baby and—

“I only want to spend as much time with her as I can,” he replied, managing to keep his tone pleasant. “Before I go back home.”

“And when are you?” Scarlet idled. “Going, I mean?” And then, in what he could only think was a stretch of graciousness: “Not that you’ve overstayed, because I am sure you would never, and Delia is quite taken with you—”

“Surely.”

“—as is Elliot, despite her best efforts to act otherwise.”

“What?” John’s head snapped to where Scarlet was still browsing her magazine, and he cleared his throat at her arched brow to try and gather his scrambled thoughts. “What I mean is, has she—said anything to you about me?”

The blonde at the table, swathed in her silk robe and curls primly pinned back away from her face, made a sound that might have been amused. Might have been, anyway, had he not turned to look at her and seen the way her face remained serene and unexpressive.

“I am not blind, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet idled. “It takes very little investigation to find that my daughter is fond of you, against my wishes and her own.”

Before John could open his mouth to respond—and press for more information while his stomach did victorious little somersaults—she turned her head to the window, when the sound of a vehicle rolling up the drive spurred Boomer on to barking in the front room.

“Oh, would you look at that,” she murmured with a little sigh. “My prodigal child, returned home at last.”

He glanced out the window to see an unfamiliar car pulling up, a black truck that took the fresh snow of the unplowed drive to the Graves-Honeysett home with ease; from the driver’s side hopped a familiar face.

“Didn’t Elliot drive there this morning?” he asked, frowning as he watched Wyatt jog around to the passenger side despite Elliot’s waving from the front for him to stop. The man had been nothing but polite—even enthused—to meet him at the bar the other night, but that didn’t mean John had forgotten the way he’d gotten comfy enough to try and touch Elliot’s face and her hair. Even now, the man grinned, all sunshine, as he opened the passenger side door for her and offered her his hand.

Scarlet replied, her attention already having departed the window, “What a silly question to ask out loud, Mr. Seed. You're not stupid, so I would beg you—try not to give me that impression.”

His eyes darted to Scarlet for a moment, briefly grateful that she wasn’t looking at him to see the spark of irritation winding its way across his face; he could feel it furrowing his brows, drawing his mouth into a hard, tight line. Setting his coffee cup on the counter, John made his way out the front door just as Wyatt and Ell were nearly there.

“Oh, hey John!” Wyatt greeted him. His eyes swept over him briefly. “Boy, you’re really put together any chance you get, huh?”

“You can never be overdressed,” John replied as amicably as he could. “Watch the steps, Ell, they’re—”

“Icy, I know,” Elliot said. She puffed out a little breath of air and brushed his offered hand aside, instead favoring the railing with one hand and the top of Boomer’s head with the other, still refusing him the courtesy of meeting his eyes. It had been days. She had never once held such a grudge against him—not really, not where he couldn’t at least get her to give him the time of day.

“Where’s the Jeep?” he asked, his voice coming out a bit tighter than he would have liked as she brushed past him. “Surely you didn’t have Wyatt ferry you out here for fun.”

“Tire’s flat,” she snipped. “Would you prefer I walked?”

“You could have called.” He took in a sharp little breath, willing the accusation away. “I would have been more than happy to pick you up, Ell.”

“Don’t have a cell phone,” Elliot replied flatly. “And Wyatt was already there.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Wyatt interjected hurriedly, smiling at John with pearly whites on display. “I had to come into town anyway, and it was gonna be hours before the mechanic could get out there.”

“Well, it was very kind of you all the same,” John said with a smile that felt like it pulled too tight across his face, a smile that was harder and harder to maintain with every passing second that Wyatt West put his baby-blues on Elliot. And that was often; the blonde looked a little sheepish when his gaze met John’s, drawn away from the redhead who was readily retreating into the house.

“Like I said, wasn’t any trouble. Always happy to help,” the blonde insisted, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“Yes,” John replied pleasantly, “I can see that.”

Wyatt blinked, flushing. “Anyway, uh...Have a nice day, John. And you too, Freckles!”

He waved before turning on his heel and heading back to the truck. As soon as the driver’s door closed and he was starting to pull away, John turned to see Elliot watching him, her eyes narrowed.

“‘I can see that’?” She scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, are we talking now?” His brows lifted, head tilting. “So kind of you, to grace me with eye contact when you’ve been storming around the last few days—”

“Don’t be a fucking baby,” Elliot snapped. “My life does not revolve around you. Especially when I can’t seem to figure out why the fuck you drove all the way here just to sulk around.”

“Perhaps it should at least be in my orbit,” John replied tersely, “considering that we are having a child together.”

“You—”

Elliot sucked in a sharp breath, clamping her mouth shut as she looked at him. There was a very brief moment where she looked like she wanted to say something, and very badly, but instead, the corner of her mouth ticked upward and she turned on her heel to walk inside without saying a word.

“It’s a cute nickname,” John continued tartly as he trailed after her. Don't walk away from me, don't, you owe me at least your attention. “Freckles. Do you prefer that one over Miss Honey?”

She closed the door behind her, promptly and without hesitation, letting it rattle in the door frame and in his face. He sucked in a sharp breath, passing a hand exhaustedly over his face.

Impudent. Surly. Ferociously, viciously, wretchedly stubborn. He knew this about her—had known this about her—and yet at every opportunity, she proved his idea of her correct, and he found himself getting more and more frustrated. It wasn’t fair, that even those moments of her attention still felt good, that the sting of her venom held some satisfaction for him, like he was addicted to it.

If she would just, came the thought, rolling over and over. If she would, if she would just, if she would just—

But just what? Just stop being that way? Would he have even liked her if she were not this purposefully obstinate problem to solve?

“No,” he sighed to himself, raking his fingers through his hair. “No, I wouldn’t.”

The reward would just have to be all that much sweeter in the end.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three hours later, Elliot had forced herself to come to a decision.

She waffled on it for a while—going back and forth as she showered, scrubbing her hair and trying to let the hot water ease some of the growing aches and pains—and did her best to ignore the way something a little wicked chattered happily inside of her at the knowledge that John’s eyes had been sparking with jealousy. It felt immature, to like watching him squirm; more apparent than ever, too, was that old habits died hard.

There was a sick kind of satisfaction that came with finding John’s buttons and pushing them. It had felt the same way, back in Hope County—when he’d been burning with irritation and jealousy that Joseph had gotten her confession, not him, that she wouldn’t tell him what it was, pushing and pushing and jamming her finger into that button until he finally snapped and—

Kissed her.

That’s not what I’m trying to do, she thought, a little defiantly as she looked at herself in the mirror of the bathroom; tracing the WRATH scar, looking down to realize that there was, in fact, a baby bump. Oh, God, wasn’t that something fucking dreadful? Too real, but even still she’d known it was coming—worn looser, heavier clothes. She’d tried so hard not to look at herself in mirrors as of late that doing so now made her feel like she was looking at a stranger.

I’m not trying to get him to kiss me—the opposite, actually, I’m just trying to get him to fucking lay off for a minute—

And yet, as she found herself standing outside of the door to John’s room, her chest felt a little tight and her heart was doing that funny thing it liked to do when he was around; fluttering, leaping against her ribs, begging for attention. Elliot could have argued that it was just muscle memory at this point, that she had spent enough time around John letting him touch her and kiss her and say sweet things into her neck that her body was only working off of its basest instincts, and that was why she was feeling this way.

Clearing her throat, Elliot knocked on the door and said, “John?”

There was the sound of shuffling on the other side, and then his voice drifting to her: “Yes, Elliot?”

“It’s time for my appointment,” she managed out lamely. It felt even more stupid, saying it now, after she’d made such a big show of marching off after he’d committed to his display of jealousy. “Since the Jeep’s still waiting to get the tire fixed, do you think you could—”

The door swung open; John’s eyes flickered over her for a moment, his head tilting just before his mouth curved into a pleasant little smile that was two parts triumph and one part spite.

“What’s this?” he asked. “You need my help with something?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Don’t be an asshole, John.”

“I would never.” He propped himself up against the doorframe, folding his arms. “Wyatt’s taxi services currently unavailable?”

Already, she was regretting her decision—it had felt important, to have him along, but now she thought maybe she had been too forgiving for having forgiven anything at all.

“The appointment might be the one we figure out the baby’s gender, fuckface,” she snapped, “and since Wyatt’s not the baby’s father, I figured maybe you’d want to come in for this appointment, because it wouldn't feel right not to at least ask if you wanted to. Don’t worry though, I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you.”

“Wait!” The exclamation stopped her mid-turn from his door, the feeling of his fingers brushing the palm of her hand making her jerk out of his reach instinctively. John exhaled through his nose, and when she looked him with narrowed eyes and her arms crossed, he said, “I do want to—I want to come.”

“You sure aren’t acting like it.”

“I—Ell, I haven’t heard the baby’s heartbeat a single time,” he insisted, a little frantic. “I’ve respected that you didn’t want me there the last time, and you know, when I wasn’t here before is another thing, but finding out the gender and getting to hear the heartbeat—” He stopped, sighing. “I’m...”

Though there was a bit of pain stinging in the cavity of her chest at his earnesty, Elliot steeled herself, keeping her expression tight. “You’re what, John?” she prompted. She half-expected another blow-up; I’m the baby’s father, that baby is mine, I deserve this, it’s mine.

But instead, John’s mouth twisted and he said, “I’m—sorry.”

Elliot blinked. Had she ever heard John apologize? For anything, ever? And sincerely? She couldn’t recall a day or time in memory—and though her memory was spotty at best these days, she thought for certain that was something she would have remembered. Even when they’d been going to bury Joey, she wouldn’t let him get the words out.

“Uh,” she said very intelligently, “what?”

“I’m sorry,” John repeated, appearing a little frustrated at having to repeat himself. He shifted on his feet. “I want to come to the appointment. I mean—” And then, in what surely must have been pure agony: “Please let me come to the appointment.”

It felt so odd to hear the words coming out of his mouth that she could only blink rapidly and say, “Um, okay,” before turning and quickly heading down the hall and to the stairs. It had been her intention all along to ask John if he wanted to come to the appointment, to see the baby on the screen and find out the gender together—because despite his petty jealousy over someone he didn’t need to be concerned about in the least, and despite his insistence that he was the only person capable of loving her, she did see him making an effort instead of yanking her all the way to the other side. Even if it was a minute, tiny effort; it was an effort nonetheless.

“We’ll have to take your car,” Elliot said uneasily over her shoulder, pulling on her coat quickly. “And it’s soon, so—”

“Making haste,” John agreed from beside her. He reached over her shoulder to pull his own coat off of the rack. It wasn’t lost on her, then, that weeks ago he had gone to reach for her shoulder and she’d about jumped out of her skin; now, the smell of his cologne and his voice close to her ear was almost comforting, in an entirely self-indulgent way.

If she just broke it down to the piece of John she loved the most—his voice and the way the cologne smelled when it was on him, and the way it felt when his hands traced the scars on her hips, and the boyish grin he’d flash her—then maybe it could work. Then, maybe, things would have been fine.

But that’s not love, something inside of her said, as she made her way out the front door and to the car. John says he loves all the wretched things about you. Did you forget?

No. No, she had not forgotten the way John had kissed her when she had blood on her mouth, or the way he’d said, I would’ve fucked you there, or how it felt when he buried his face into her neck and said her name in a voice so broken she thought she might be holy.

“Too hot?” John asked, and she realized she was sitting in the car—that she had checked out halfway out the door—and they were now down at the end of the drive.

Elliot swallowed. Her face felt hot, and now it was not only because of her mind’s wanderings but also because she had been caught daydreaming.

“No,” she said, sinking back against the passenger seat. “No, it’s fine.”

He watched her for a moment before pulling out of the driveway and onto the street. She took a quick glance around the car; it was older, and sort of a beater. The kind of shitty Honda civic she’d see peeling out on the highway at 3AM because some idiot teenager thought she wouldn’t pull them over if the roads were empty. He’d probably lifted it on his way out of town to keep a low profile.

Her foot nudged something solid as she stretched out. Over the sound of the radio rattling and fuzzing tiredly, she heard a dull thunk. She squinted. It was a book. Unconditional Parenting.

“Jesus,” John muttered, “for a town this small, this traffic is a nightmare.”

“What?” Elliot asked, quickly averting her eyes from the book, feeling like she’d just rifled through someone’s personal drawer. “Oh, um—it’s a tourist town. People come here for the Christmas lights. They do like a whole lighting festival with that big tree in the square every night for weeks before Christmas.”

“And that’s why I can’t find parking.”

“That’s why you can’t find parking.”

He shot her a wry smile, taking a second loop around the square and a bit slower this time. Elliot turned her attention back out the window, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it—Unconditional Parenting. How long had he been reading baby books? Why was he so confident he’d get the chance to be a parent, anyway?

When he finally pulled into a parking spot, he let out a breath of relief. “How are we on time?”

Ell glanced at the car’s radio. “Ten minutes early,” she replied after a moment. “Right on time.”

“Great.” John paused. When neither of them moved to get out of the car, he cleared his throat and said, “So, what do you think?”

“About?” Elliot prompted. “The lighting festival?”

“What do you think baby is?” he clarified. Absently, he worried his thumbnail into the rubber of the steering wheel. “The lighting festival in a tourist town is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“Well, it should be on your mind,” she replied, a little petulant. “I think it’s nice, for the record. All of the vendors come in from out of town and even though the traffic’s a nightmare, it’s good business for the town and everyone’s always been respectful of it. Plus, the lights are nice.”

She paused, and when she looked at John, he was grinning at her. He seemed to be enjoying her firm defense of the lighting festival.

“And I think baby is a boy,” she added after a minute, pulling at a loose thread on her sweater. “Just my gut feeling.”

He seemed pleased by her answer, but if he actually was she couldn’t have said why; it was nearly impossible to read John sometimes, but especially in moments like this, in uncharted waters for them both. She lingered for a moment before she unbuckled and said quickly, “Anyway, we should probably go,” pulling herself out of the warmth of the car and into the chilly afternoon.

She wanted to go back to being angry. She wanted to go back to hating John, to being disgusted by him, to relishing in making him suffer, even just a little—but it was like her brain had reverted back to her neanderthal roots. Baby daddy reads parenting books, makes him a good father.

The sooner the moment was over and done with, the sooner she could go back to wallowing on the ways John had wronged her, instead of the ways he made her happy.

By the time they were back in the room, Elliot sitting on the end of the little bed and John in the chair under a pregnancy poster—Pregnant or thinking of getting pregnant? 3 things to discuss!—she had nearly steeled herself. If she just sat there, and replayed the last three months in her head, and reminded herself of all the reasons why she had left John behind in the first place, she would be just fine.

And then the door opened, and Dr. Harding stepped inside, and looked between Elliot and John with surprise.

“Hello, Elliot,” Harding greeted. “I see we’ve a guest today?”

“This is John,” Elliot said, trying not to sound too miserable given the riotous state of her brain. “This is the, uh—he's the father.”

John stood quickly, holding out his hand. “John Seed.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Harding,” she said, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Excited? Elliot’s told you we might find out the gender today, yes?”

“Yes and yes,” John confirmed, sounding more and more like the kind of man she had fallen for and less like the egotistical psycho she’d turned in to the government. Right, the one that had lied, and coerced, and perhaps knowingly drugged her. She couldn’t afford to forget that bit.

As Elliot went through all of the normal questions—have you been eating well, yes, I see you haven’t lost weight, yeah, how is the sleep, it’s fine—she held on tight to that little thread of knowledge. John was here because she was letting him, not for any other reason, and it did feel good to know that this whole time he’d played by her rules. As much as he could have, anyway, showing up at her house unannounced.

She settled back against the propped back, grimacing as she shimmied the hem of her sweater up and Harding put a generous amount of gel on the swell of her stomach. Between doctor’s appointments, it was easy to pretend like maybe she wasn’t pregnant. The morning sickness had faded, her appetite had come back, she was getting fine enough sleep; if she didn’t look at herself in the mirror, if she ignored the pervading aches and pains, the roundness to her features then she could pretend like things were normal.

But then John pulled the chair over to the side of the bed, his fingers brushing hers, and nothing felt even remotely close to normal.

“Alright, let’s take a look at baby, shall we?” Harding said, settling in as she began to glide the instrument across Elliot’s stomach.

“Okay,” Elliot said, feeling uneasy. John’s eyes flickered to her, and while she chewed the inside of her cheek, her fingers curled around his—a thoughtless, absent-minded gesture, like she was a heat-seeking machine and the only heat that would do was his.

He didn’t say anything, but laced their fingers together just as Harding said, “Oh, there’s baby!”

The dull, steady heartbeat echoed. When she stole a glance in his direction, John’s eyes were transfixed on the screen as Harding went over where the features were, pointing them out on the screen to him.

“Your little one is about the size of a peach right now,” Harding was saying, “and let’s just see here...”

Oh, God, she thought, feeling her stomach roll. It was so real. Too real, to be laying there, after all of this time feeling so disconnected from her own body—like a vessel, but now with John’s fingers tangled with hers and the baby’s heartbeat and a fruit analogy regarding the size it felt too real. She could no longer act like it wasn’t happening.

“It looks like we’ve got a perfectly healthy baby boy,” were the words coming out of the doctor’s mouth when Elliot’s eyes drifted from John’s face. “It might be a bit early, but that's my educated inference. Congratulations, Elliot. And daddy too, of course.”

A boy. A boy. I’m having a boy.

A perfectly healthy baby boy.

The room felt a little like it was swimming, her throat tight and a steady burning behind her eyes and nose. She sat up a little and swallowed thickly. John had come to a stand too, to get a better look at the screen, but when she squirmed and moved he looked at her.

“Ell?” he asked, sounding very far away, or like he was talking to her underwater. His hand not interlocked with hers came up to her face, and she couldn’t find it in herself to pull away—not only because of the effort it would take, but because of the way it felt to have him right there when she thought she needed him the most. “What’s wrong? Hey, baby, are you—”

“I’m okay,” Elliot managed out, her voice thick and wobbly. “I’m f-fine, I just—um—”

I’m having a boy. Oh, God, it felt so fucking real, too fucking real, but in a good way—for once, her nerve-endings felt alive, and not with anxiety and dread but with happiness.

Sounding panicked, John tilted her face up and asked again, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, a wet, raspy little laugh bubbling out of her, “nothing’s wrong, I’m just—I’m just really happy—”

It took his thumb sweeping wetness from her cheek for her to realize that she was crying. Some unshed emotion hiccuped in her chest, and she swallowed thickly, fingers wrapping around his wrist in what she understood too late was an effort to keep his hand there; skin to skin, pulse close to pulse.

I want a home with you, she’d said to him, that night, and he’d looked at her and said, You have it, Ell, I told you.

He’d said, I’m all yours.

He’d said, Take what you need from me.

Dr. Harding was saying something, speaking softly to John. It was another reminder that it had been idiotic not to let him come in the first place—there was something so inherently endearing about John mmhming and nodding along, listening raptly as the doctor went over what they would be expecting in between this appointment and the next while his thumb swept affectionately over her cheek. She was sure that she heard the reaffirmation that she needed to be getting good sleep, staying as relaxed and unstressed as possible, but she couldn’t think about that. Her brain was going on loop, on repeat.

I’m having a boy, she thought, a perfectly healthy baby boy. My baby.

When Harding patted John’s shoulder and said, “I’ll give you two a minute,” before exiting, she felt John’s fingers threading through the hair at the nape of her neck; in a gesture that was painfully intimate, his forehead pressed to hers.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. “I can’t believe that—”

“I know,” she said, sniffing. “I can’t either.”

“You were right.” He grinned, their noses brushing, giving her hand a squeeze. So close to a kiss; she felt her lashes fluttering, the warmth of his hand spreading along the slope of her neck. “We’re having a boy. My God.”

Yes. We are having a boy. A perfectly healthy baby boy. Without her permission, the thought populated, permeating her brain.

Our baby.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Yes, I have him right here.”

Staci blinked. A quick intake of his surroundings reminded him that he was sitting in the cab of one of Eden’s Gates trucks—lifted from the F.A.N.G. Center. Footage of him with the cultists—the other cultists—would now be available. Footage of him walking past the corpses of Jacob’s gutted chosen would now be available.

Jacob is going to kill me, he thought, lifting his eyes from the back of the seat to look at Helmi. The woman was watching him as she spoke on the phone, with Dani sitting next to him on the backbench. Helmi had been on the phone with someone for quite a while; he’d stopped paying attention what felt like eons ago. If he just let his brain drift off, he wouldn’t think about the bodies. Fucking God, their bodies—

Jacob’s going to fucking kill me.

Helmi's hand moved. On instinct, Staci flinched, and she rolled her eyes.

“Say hello, doggy,” she said, shoving the phone against his ear. He fumbled with it for a minute before he swallowed thickly.

When he looked at Dani frantically, she frowned, her brows furrowing, and she whispered, “Don’t embarrass me, Staci.”

“Um, h...” His mouth was painfully dry. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Staci Pratt?”

The voice on the other end was painfully pleasant. She had the same kind of accent Dani did—Norwegian, maybe, or Swedish—but her voice was a bit deeper, a rich timbre to it.

“I am,” he replied uneasily. “I-I mean, yes. It is.”

Helmi had faced forward in the driver’s seat again and started pulling away from the F.A.N.G. Center, turning the heat down low. As the truck pulled out onto the snowy highway, she flicked the headlights off and slowed to something close to a crawl.

“S-Sorry, but—”

“You do not have to apologize to me, Staci.”

“I just don’t know—um, who you are,” he managed out. As soon as he said the words, Dani dug her elbow into his ribs; he barely stifled the yelp, looking at her as she mouthed something he couldn’t understand.

She hissed, “I told you, she is—”

“My name is Kajsa. Helmi, and your Dani, and many of our brothers and sisters are...” Her voice trailed off, and she made a thoughtful hum. Pratt tried to ignore the way she said your Dani made his heart jump in his throat. “They are my charges. It is my responsibility to take care of them.”

“Oh,” Pratt said. “So what...What do you want with me?”

“Helmi says that you have made a very good impression,” Kajsa replied sweetly. “You have important knowledge, and I want to make sure that you are safe, and taken care of. Just as I would any of the others.”

He fought back a grimace. The words sounded sweet and enticing, but he couldn’t shake the way Dani had looked at the gutted corpses on the screen and said delightedly, It will happen to us all. If we are lucky, Helmi will be the one who does it for us.

Pratt’s gaze darted up to the front. Helmi’s dark eyes fixed on his in the mirror, like she had been watching him all along.

“It is my understanding that the Seeds have not endeared you to their cause? That you know what your colleague did, that your friends have left?”

“No,” he replied quickly. “I mean—that’s right. Um, I was working for Jacob, but it was more like—”

“Do not trouble yourself with recounting. I believe you,” Kajsa interrupted. And then, gently: “It must have been horrible.”

His chest tightened. Oh, no, he thought, shaking his head and pressing the heel of his hand against his left eye. No, fuck no, don’t listen to her, Pratt, you fucking idiot.

“By now you must have some grasp of what is going on,” the woman continued, “but in case you do not, I will tell you. Are you listening, Staci Pratt?”

Pratt’s head pressed against the back of the seat. He didn’t want to; he didn’t want to listen to her sweetness, her sympathy, the way she clicked her tongue and the timbre of her voice warming him down to the marrow of his bones when he felt like he’d been freezing this whole time.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I’m listening.”

“We are well-armed. We are organized. We have a common enemy with you. And a common friend, too.” She paused, and he thought that he could hear a smile in her voice when she said, “I can tell that you want to live, my darling. That you don’t want me to have Helmi pull over and gut you open, leave you for the crows and the wolves and the woods to take you.”

Opening his mouth did nothing to inspire the words to come out of him. Nausea rolled violently in his stomach—but there was nothing left to puke up, even if he’d wanted to.

He did want to live, but not like this. Not terrified. Not. Like. This.

“I want you to live too,” Kajsa murmured on the other end.

“But you’re going to have to do something for me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Elliot opened her eyes, it had gotten dark outside.

It took her a minute to collect her bearings, sitting up in a bed in a dark room. At her feet, Boomer huffed and sighed at the disturbance, and then she remembered; she was in her bed. Back at home. John had driven the both of them back to the house, and she’d said that she needed to lay down—and he’d let her, without protest or complaint. He hadn’t even tried to insinuate she could use a napping companion.

Pulling herself out of bed, she rubbed her eyes tiredly and glanced out the window. Everything felt a little foggy. How long had she been sleeping? Had she really been out until late into the night?

She reached absently to her bedside table, blindly fumbling for the lamp switch; after what felt like an eternity of not being able to find it, Elliot sighed and skimmed her hand over her face, looking out the window. The night outside was brighter than it had been in a while, with no clouds in the sky and the moon illuminating the snowy landscape in an unforgiving blue-white, stretching out far and far and far until it hit the treeline.

Something darted on the horizon. She blinked rapidly, taking a step closer to the window and pushing on the glass pane until it started to slide up, grinding laboriously. The longer she looked, the longer Elliot thought maybe she had just been zoning out—but then she saw it again; a flash of something, pale and long, like spider bone-white in color skittering up the dark wood of a tree in the distant treeline.

A glimpse of pale limbs. Tangled, dark hair—she couldn’t make out the color, it was too dark—but it looked wet, it looked matted, like someone had hurt it. Like someone had blown its skull open.

Something metal rattled. The trash can, she thought, her attention snapping to the front of the house. When the sound of metal crashed in the night, the motion-activated light in the front kicked on. A shadow stretched along the snow, cast long and deformed by the warping of the light.

“Hey!” Elliot shouted, but the shadow did not twitch or move in response; just the sounds of rustling, like whoever it was found themselves too preoccupied with digging through the trash can. Her heart was pounding violently in her chest; the terror that had been knotting in her stomach was doused by something hotter, redder, angrier.

Rage.

She pushed herself away from the window and out the door into the hallway. As her feet hit the stairs, there was almost no noise—just the rushing of her movements as she pushed the front door open and hurried down the front steps, turning the corner to where the garbage can sat.

“Hey, listen to me!” she snapped, propelled by the anger when she saw the figure hunched over the garbage can. “You can’t be in—”

The figure lifted its head. From the back, her eyes swept over what looked like fur, a tail, up and up to the back of a head that had two ears perched on it, until the figure’s head turned—

Fury disappeared. It was now only dread, only pure, cold dread and terror sitting in her, gutting her, washing her out as the dog with a man’s face turned and looked at her and smiled.

The square teeth, gapped and pearly, oozed with the same dark liquid as she had thought she’d seen before. In the yellow light from the porch, it glittered dark as garnets, dropping into the snow and spreading out crimson.

Move, she thought, I have to move, I have to fucking move, I have to go I have to run I have to—

“Hey!”

It was her voice. It was her voice, but it wasn’t coming out of her—it was thrown, echoing from somewhere in the trees, the dog with the man’s face spreading its mouth wider. Somehow, she knew deep in the marrow of her bones that It was making that sound.

“Hey? Listen to me?”

The pitch was all wrong. Elliot felt a moan bubbling up in her, and It turned on its hind legs, feet hanging loose around its ribcage, and faced her fully. She managed one step back before It tilted its head, as if to say, where are you going?

“Hey, listen to me!”

There was something else in its teeth. Something else, wiry and golden, and even when she willed herself a step back

(whereveryougowhereveryourun)

her body would not move; she was trapped, frozen, watching as It stepped closer

(ItwillwaitforyouItwaitsforusall)

she realized that it was hair, in It’s teeth

(ITWAITSFORYOUITWAITSFORUSALLITWILLHAVEYOU)

her hair.

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she screamed.

When she lurched and twisted around, she was not met with a familiar face. It was a woman, hair dark and bundled up in winter clothes, watching her with concern furrowing her brows as the headlights of her car made Elliot squint. She immediately jerked away.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked, her hand dropping back to her side. She was tall—she had to be at least six feet tall, and her face was sharp and angular, her eyes nearly black without any light to show their color.

“Where—” Glancing around wildly, Elliot forced a swallow. She was not in front of her house. She was not even close to the front of her house. She was all the way at the end of the drive, standing in the—

“—found you in the middle of the road,” the woman said, the lilt of her accent jarring Elliot back to reality. “I was on my way home when I nearly hit you. Are you quite well?”

Her gaze snapped back to the woman. The dog; where was the dog with the man’s face? Where had she—

Every nerve-ending felt fried, like they had become pure static; she felt like she was vibrating. She stared at the dark-haired woman with the strange, rich accent, wondering why it itched at her. Weyfield was small. Too small for her to not know about someone with an accent living there.

“Who are you?” she asked after a moment, nails digging into her palms. “You don’t live around here.”

A smile stretched across the woman’s face. She had pearly teeth, and the kind of full mouth that looked pretty, sculpted—but in the smile, Elliot only thought, broken glass, her smile looks like broken glass.

Vaguely, she was aware of John’s voice; he must have heard her scream, or seen her down the driveway, the headlights of the unfamiliar car illuminating her in the dead of night. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling. Paranoia spread along her spine, worming into her lungs, a most effective parasite.

“I know you don’t live here,” Elliot managed out, her voice trembling as she took a step forward. There was a tiny pinprick of relief when she realized she’d regained her mobility. “Why are you driving around this neighborhood? Who are you?”

The woman turned and headed back towards the driver’s side of her car, hands tucked politely into the pockets of her coat.

“You should be more careful of your sleepwalking. Someone else might not have been so kind as to stop,” she called over her shoulder. “And—”

The woman paused, the smile still rooted firmly on her face as she opened her car door.

“I hear stress is bad for the baby.”

Something wretched and vile twisted in her stomach, hot as a branding iron. The panic that shot through her system was so vicious, so potent, that for a second she felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs; it crashed over her in a wave so powerful that her vision swam and she thought, I’m going to pass out.

But there was another thought, too, squirming around in there, blinking its little emergency light:

My baby, my baby, you stay away from my baby.

“Ell!”

John’s hands landed on her before she thought think to pull away, even if she’d wanted to, as the headlights of the woman’s car turned away and began to drift down the drive. The idea that she ought to chase the car down occurred to her, but the tremble in her legs and the hitch of her breath reminded her that it would only serve to make her feel worse.

The brunette frantically checked her over, panting and out of breath as though he’d just sprinted down the drive; when his hands finally came to a stop, they were cradling her face, his eyes searching hers. Over his shoulder, she watched the receding red light of the woman’s car drifting in the dark, aimless in a sea of inky black, and she wanted to throw up.

“I heard you scream,” he said, breathless as his brows knit together at the center of his forehead. “What are you doing all the way out here? Baby, look at me, what’s wrong?”

“She knew,” Elliot managed out. Her voice felt like sandpaper grinding out of her lungs. “She knew I—she knew about our baby.”

“Who?” John looked over his shoulder, and then back at her, his thumbs smoothing over her cheekbones. “Elliot, who?”

I don’t know, but the words wouldn’t come.

I don’t know who she is,

but she knew about our baby,

and she has a smile like broken glass,

and a mouth as red as blood.

#my writing #fic: witching hour #john seed x female deputy #john seed/female deputy #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #tw blood #tw body horror #uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #ch: isolde khan #ch: joseph seed #ch: jacob seed #s/o to santi and arden one day your time in the sun will come #also: poor staci #that is all i have to say on THAT #: )))))))#thank u thank u thank u!!!

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