#usually i look a Bit more frazzled in these circumstances | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wren-of-the-woods · 4 months

Text

This Accident and Flood of Fortune

Lizzy and William are looking forward to a quiet date watching their sisters perform in Twelfth Night — but when they discover that George Wickham is waiting in the wings, they must use Lizzy’s wits and their combined nerdery to help William get his revenge. Or: In which Lizzy comes up with a scheme, and even Shakespeare would be proud of the chaos that ensues.

This was written by @bloodsoaked-rainbows and I for @friendoftrees! It's the third installment in our Pride & Prejudice series Once Upon a Text, though it should be readable on its own. It's about 3k of silliness and can also be read on AO3 here!

Lizzy is finally going to see William again.

It has been over a week since their first date, and while they have managed to keep up their habit of texting regularly, the chaos of the holidays (and the inevitable Collins-avoiding that entailed) have kept them from being able to meet in person since that fateful day. Fortunately, their sisters have given them a way to escape their respective houses.

The two of them are meeting at a public rendition of a Shakespeare play in which both Mary and William’s sister Georgiana will be performing. It should be highly enjoyable, or at least entertaining; it’s hard to do a performance of Twelfth Night without making somebody laugh. After the play, they plan to spend some time on their own, but at this point Lizzy thinks that she’d be satisfied to see William in any circumstances. Being stuck with her family throughout the holidays has started to make her feel mildly insane.

Her phone buzzes with yet another notification from its messages app. The Bennet Family Group Chat has been very active this morning, to no one’s surprise.

Lizzy checks the notification and rolls her eyes.

Bennet Family Group Chat

Trouble 1: sooo lizzy are you excited for your ✨date✨

Typical Lydia behavior. The name Lizzy added as her contact has never proved to be inaccurate. Lizzy barely has time to sigh before her phone buzzes with another notification as Kitty and their mother chime in, and it hardly takes a minute for the chaos to spread to the rest of their family.

Bennet Family Group Chat

Trouble 2: OOH YEAH👀

Mama Goose: i hope you don’t scare him away to soon!

MaryBerry: *too

Mama Goose: he’s quite rich, you know

Father Goose: We know.

As usual, Jane comes to Lizzy’s rescue as the only sane one in the mess that was their group chat.

muffin: Just be nice to poor Lizzy, for heaven’s sake! She’s probably nervous enough

Lizzy: Thanks, Jane You’re my favorite Hope you and Charles have a good time at the play, too

Trouble 1: HEY favorite???? rUde

Trouble 2: :((

Lizzy: <3

Lizzy closes her phone and resolutely ignores the notifications that continue to flash across its screen. She has more important people to talk to than her family, after all.

Lizzy gets to the theater with minimal trouble and, after she greets William with an enthusiastic hug, they go to find their seats. Jane and Charles are here as well, but they have settled in an opposite corner of the theater and are completely wrapped up in each other, so Lizzy thinks she will have William to herself today.

“I trust you have been well since our last meeting?” asks William, completely genuine like the outdated dork he is. Lizzy cannot help but smile.

Lizzy sits down as they talk. William settles beside her. “I’ve been fine. A bit frazzled, but you already knew that from our texts.”

“I understand the feeling. I currently live with Caroline Bingley.”

Lizzy grimaces. “That must be unpleasant.”

William nods gravely. “There is little escape.”

“Oh! Fitzwilliam, dear!” calls a terribly, horribly familiar voice. “Fancy seeing you here! What a surprise.”

William sighs. “Speak of the devil.”

A dog barks as though in agreement. Lizzy turns to see Caroline Bingley, dressed to her usual ostentatious standards. In a flowery handbag, she carries the smallest, most absurd little poodle that Lizzy has seen in her entire life. Its curly white fur is shaved on most of its body coiffed neatly on top of its head and on the tip of its tail. In both places, it is finished off by a lacy pink ribbon tied in a bow. Lizzy is simultaneously awed by its absurdity and utterly unsurprised by Caroline’s idiocy.

“Hello, Caroline,” says William tiredly.

“I cannot wait to see our dear Georgiana perform,” says Caroline, flouncing closer.

“Nor can I,” William says unenthusiastically.

There is an empty seat beside William. Caroline’s intentions are clear. Lizzy looks around in panic.

“How about we go sit over there, William?” she asks with false cheer, pointing at two empty seats surrounded by other strangers. “There’ll be a better view of Georgiana’s entrance, don’t you think?”

“What a fabulous idea,” William says, standing up.

They hurriedly make their escape, leaving a somewhat confused Caroline and poodle behind.

The play begins only a few moments later, and Lizzy sits back, enjoying the familiar opening lines of Twelfth Night as they are spoken across the stage.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” William whispers into her ear, quoting along with the actor playing Duke Orsino. “Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Lizzy giggles quietly. “Do you know the whole play?”

“Only most of it,” says William with a smile.

They quiet down and watch as the play begins to unfold. When Georgiana makes her entrance as a storm-disheveled Viola, William catches her eye and gives her a thumbs up. Lizzy thinks she sees Georgiana smile before she returns her attention to her role.

Everything is going wonderfully, in short— right up until the middle of the next scene.

When a handsome young man emerges onto the stage as Sir Andrew, Lizzy feels William go worryingly tense beside her.

“Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch?” cries the man. Lizzy thinks he is doing a rather good job of capturing the silliness of the role, but when she glances at William, he looks horrified.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers to him as Sir Andrew banters with the other characters.

“I know that man,” William says quietly. Lizzy is rather concerned to note that his words sound more like a growl than a whisper.

“Who? Sir Andrew?”

“His name is George Wickham.”

Lizzy’s eyes widen. She knows about William’s childhood friend and the way he had betrayed William by attempting to gain more than his fair share of William’s father’s inheritance and generally being an asshole.

“That’s him? I thought you hadn’t seen him for years!”

“I haven’t,” says William grimly. “I have no idea why he’s here.”

“Why would he be playing Sir Andrew, of all people?” asks Lizzy as Sir Andrew — Wickham, apparently — pretends not to understand French.

William’s eyes go wide. “Fuck.”

Lizzy doesn’t think she’s ever heard her boyfriend curse in the entire time she’s known him. “What?”

“Georgiana’s been talking about a charming friend she made in theater. A friend named George.”

“Do you think he’s trying to befriend your sister to get revenge on you?”

“It’s certainly possible.”

Lizzy considers this. Onstage, Wickham and the other actors make their exit.

“Shit,” she agrees.

As they sit there, reeling, Georgiana enters the stage again. Her character, Viola, has now disguised herself as a man. Lizzy blinks. In this costume, Georgiana looks startlingly like her brother.

Lizzy thinks about their new conundrum. She thinks about the play. She thinks about how the plot proceeds from here. She turns to William.

“I have a brilliant idea.”

“This is a stupid plan,” William grumbles as Lizzy pushes him in the direction of Mary, who had managed to escape her place backstage and bring out a costume.

“It’ll be great,” says Lizzy. “Trust me. I’ve been texting Mary and we figured the whole thing out.”

“And Mary is fine with this?” William asks doubtfully.

“Completely,” says Lizzy, conveniently failing to mention the part where she had offered a thirty-dollar Barnes & Noble gift card as a bribe.

“And the rest of the cast?”

“Absolutely on board,” says Lizzy confidently. She had promised them some of Jane’s cookies. “Just get changed and wait for the right moment.”

“You’re going to owe me if this goes wrong,” William mutters darkly.

“And me,” Mary says, handing William the costume.

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” Lizzy says, grinning confidently.

She shoves William in the direction of the bathroom and hurries back to her seat before anyone can get suspicious about her absence.

The play continues. Mary makes her entrance as Lady Olivia, looking commendably unruffled by the sudden change in plans backstage. They perform well, and for a few moments, Lizzy happily loses herself in the play and forgets about her nerves and her glee about her plan.

Then things are set into motion.

At the beginning of act two, it is revealed that Georgiana’s character, Viola, has a twin brother named Sebastian who survived the shipwreck in which everyone assumed he had met his demise. The actor who walks onstage at the beginning of the scene, conversing emphatically with his friend Antonio, is not the person who was originally cast. In fact, the actor who was going to play Sebastian has made his way into the audience, sitting next to Caroline Bingley. He is petting the poodle.

Onstage, the character is instead portrayed by a very wet William Darcy.

“By your patience, no,” says William gravely. His voice is deep and carries well throughout the theater. “My stars shine darkly over me. The malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.”

William’s character has boots that are almost knee-high and a flowing white shirt with long sleeves. He has just survived a shipwreck, and as such, he is wet and disheveled. He is, in short, gorgeous.

Lizzy hears a distant shriek that she assumes is Caroline Bingley. She feels rather similar. She realizes that she may have made a slight miscalculation. There is only one flaw in her genius plan. At the end of the play, Sebastian will marry Lady Olivia, which means that William will have to pretend to marry Mary. If he is going to look like this the whole time, Lizzy does not think she would be able to stand that.

She watches him onstage. She thinks. She is interrupted when her phone buzzes.

Bennet Family Group Chat

muffin: LIZZY WHY IS WILLIAM ONSTAGE

Trouble 2: he’s WHAT

Mother Goose: i thought it was his sister who’s int he play

MaryBerry: *in the

Trouble 1: Lizzy WHAT IS GOING ON PLEASE TELL ME

Lizzy: It’s fine guys don’t worry

muffin: THAT DOESN’T CLARIFY ANYTHING

Lizzy: We have a plan It’s fine

muffin: What kind of plan could possibly require him to be IN THE PLAY

Lizzy: Remember when i told you about his childhood friend’s betrayal The friend is in the play He’s Sir Andrew

muffin: His childhood nemesis is Sir Andrew??

Lizzy: NO The actor

muffin: oh

Trouble 1: oOoOo

Father Goose: ???

Lizzy: Anyway y’know how in twelfth night there’re multiple duels In one of them the character Sebastian fights Wickham’s character

Trouble 1: OOOOO

Lizzy: So William is playing Sebastian now And he’ll have an excuse to beat Wickham’s ass :D

muffin: LIZZY LIZZY THIS IS PROBABLY UNETHICAL

Father Goose: Excellent scheming. I approve

Lizzy: Thanks dad <3

Lizzy sighs and puts her phone away. She looks back at William. He is still as unfairly handsome as he was before. He knows all the lines and is delivering them flawlessly because he is, deep down in his heart, beneath all the brooding and handsomeness, a complete and utter nerd. After a moment, he exits the stage with Antonio and the next scene begins.

Lizzy heaves a sigh of relief at the success of the first part of their plan. Now all William has to do is hide backstage between his scenes and keep Wickham from noticing until their plan comes to fruition.

Ignoring the notifications still coming from her family’s group chat, she opens her Discord conversation with William.

TheWittyFool: good job out there babe!!!! TheWittyFool: you did great <3

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I’m hiding behind a barrel right now. Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I think Mary is laughing at me. Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I am so wet

TheWittyFool: rip

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I’m remembering why I never got into theatre. Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: Oh no Georgiana is back Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: She saw me

TheWittyFool: 🫡TheWittyFool: good luck lol TheWittyFool: maybe explain that her friend is actually an asshole?

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: Now? Really?

TheWittyFool: i mean it’s better than later

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I guess Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: Wish me luck

TheWittyFool: gl :D

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: D:

Lizzy’s Discord goes silent. It shows William as offline, presumably explaining things to his sister, so she puts her phone away again. She leans back in her seat. She watches the comedy unfolding on the stage. She thinks about the fact that, despite their vastly different personalities, she and Mary actually look fairly similar to each other.

After a moment, she opens her phone.

Bennet Family Group Chat

Lizzy: I have another brilliant idea

MaryBerry: Oh no.

Lizzy: :)

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this,” Mary sighs as she helps lace the back of Lizzy’s costume.

“I mean, you’ll get seventy dollars at Barnes & Noble out of it,” says Lizzy. “Seems like a pretty good deal to me. Besides, you can do the rest of the play in the next few performances.”

“This whole situation is absurd,” Mary continues, ignoring Lizzy.

Lizzy ignores her in turn, flipping through the copy of Twelfth Night the actor playing Sir Toby had lent her and muttering lines to herself. When the costume is on properly, Mary sighs and leaves her be. She is typing something on her phone. Lizzy assumes the group chat is dissolving into further chaos. She does not care.

Satisfied that she knows the part well enough, she puts the play aside and turns to peek at the performance from her place backstage. William is on the stage. It is the first scene of act four. Soon, the moment of truth will arrive.

Indeed, after only a few minutes, Wickham makes his entrance onto the stage. Lizzy relishes the look of complete and utter shock on his face when he recognizes William. He stumbles. He opens and closes his mouth. His face goes pale. For a moment, Lizzy thinks he is going to completely abandon his part, but he recovers after a long minute of silence.

“N- now, sir, have I met you again?” Wickham stutters after a moment. “There’s for you!”

Wickham attempts to glare at William threateningly. William is glowering at him, looking for all the world as though he actually intends to duel him to the death.

Wickham takes a deep breath — Lizzy assumes he is trying desperately to remember his blocking — before he walks forward and slaps William in the face.

William raises one eyebrow. He draws his fake dagger. He scowls, and then, like a striking panther, he lunges forward.

“Why, there’s for thee,” he cries, striking Wickham in the stomach with the hilt of his dagger. “And there” —a hit to his side— “and there!”

As he delivers the final words, William gives him a blow to the shoulder that sends Wickham sprawling on the floor.

“Are all the people mad?” growls William, and Lizzy swears she hears Wickham whimper.

Another character, Sir Toby, intervenes in the fight. The actor appears genuinely concerned. “Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house!”

One character delivers a line and exits the stage. Lizzy winks at him, and he stifles a laugh.

Onstage, the actor playing Sir Toby takes William’s arm and holds him back. William is glaring daggers at Wickham, who is just now returning to his feet.

“Come on, sir, hold!” says the actor.

“Nay, let him alone,” Wickham pants, clutching his side. “I’ll go another way to work with him; I’ll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.”

“Let go thy hand!” William snarls at the remaining actor, Sir Toby.

The character begins to protest, but before he can finish his line, William breaks free and draws his fake sword. Sir Toby says a few lines and draws his own sword, but Lizzy is no longer paying attention. Her turn has almost come.

Taking a deep breath, she enters the stage as Olivia.

“Hold, Toby,” she cries. “On thy life I charge thee hold!”

Everyone turns. The actors all stare at her, blinking. There are varying levels of shock on their faces. William’s eyes are very wide.

“Madam—” says Sir Toby’s poor actor weakly.

“Will it ever be thus? Ungracious wretch,” she says, glaring directly at Wickham.

She launches into a series of insults until all the actors except William slink from the stage, then proceeds to deliver a series of loving lines to William.

William looks just as confused as his character is supposed to be.

“What relish is in this? How runs the stream?” he says weakly to the audience. “Or am I mad, or else is this a dream?”

They exchange a few more lines, as Lizzy’s character professes her adoration for William’s character.

“Nay, come, I prithee,” she says. “Would thou’dst be rul’d by me!”

“Madam, I will.”

“O say so, and so be!”

Lizzy walks up to William and, gently cupping his cheek, draws him into a kiss. It takes a moment for him to catch on, but soon he is kissing her back. The crowd applauds as they embrace and then walk offstage, hand in hand. Lizzy even hears a bark that sounds like a strangely approving poodle.

The moment they leave the stage, William turns to glare at her halfheartedly. “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“There wasn’t time,” says Lizzy. “Also, this was funnier.”

William sighs, the effect slightly ruined by the smile he cannot quite hide. “You’re a menace.”

“Yep.”

William shakes his head. “Do you realize that was our first kiss?”

Lizzy blinks. “Huh.” She frowns. “I guess it was.” She turns to look at him. “Is that okay?”

William considers this for a moment. “It seems rather fitting, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our relationship started with mistaken identities and general confusion. It was only right for us to continue the trend.”

Lizzy laughs, loud and bright. Mary runs up and hushes her.

“Give me your costume and get out of here!” she says. Beside her is the actor who was supposed to play Sebastian. “You’ve had your fun and given that barbarian something to remember you by. Now let us do the play properly.”

Lizzy and William change and surrender their costumes without complaint. They leave and return to their seats as everyone resumes their proper parts and brings the play to a close. Lizzy is satisfied to note that, when he comes back onstage, Wickham is sporting the beginnings of a rather spectacular black eye.

They applaud louder than anyone else as the actors take their bows. They leave the theater before Wickham can emerge from backstage. They are not disturbed by Caroline — she seems to have fled at some point after the onstage kiss. Lizzy and William hold hands as they walk down the street, enjoying the quiet and the sunshine after the chaos that had been the last few hours.

“That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done,” says William. “It was a terrible idea. I’m going to have to properly deal with Wickham eventually.”

“It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

William is silent. Lizzy takes this as the agreement it is.

“You’re welcome,” she says with a grin.

William sighs, rolls his eyes, and kisses her again.

Together, they walk into the sunset.

(Two hours later…)

Bennet Family Group Chat

muffin: drama.mov I filmed the whole scene btw

Lizzy: wHAT

muffin: :)

*Many people are typing*

#pride and prejudice #pride & prejudice #p&p #elizabeth bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #jane austen #wren writes #bloodsoaked-rambles #i had so much fun with this ngl #bloodsoaked-rainbows and i laughed very much #and got to reread parts of twelfth night which is always a bonus

17 notes · View notes

siriannatan · 10 months

Text

Yokai Ryokan - Chapter 2

My updates might be even more sporadic than usual, I'm quite busy this following month and a half :{

Jimmy woke up to a cold, very cold and damp sensation on his cheeks. And the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was Scott's cyan and gold eyes, and he could feel his cold breath on his face. As Scot pulled away with a relieved smile, he noticed the small horns he had only ever seen in books about myths and legends. Small, rounded, slightly resembling antlers. And there was that tail with cyan scares and dark cyan fur along the top of it and a fluffy tuft at its end. And as he blinked and looked around he spotted fWhip, and his nervously flicking fox ears and all his tails. Was it seven? Nine? It was hard to say with how much they were moving. Burning away what remains of those monsters. "He's awake," Scott called out to the redhead, still supporting Jimmy so he doesn't fall down again. Be it on his back or his face.

fWhip burned away the last already mangled and charred corpse and quickly joined them. "How are you feeling? Are you good enough to walk? We're really sorry but whatever happened makes it impossible for us to disguise ourselves again," he jumped to explain.

"Slow down, he's got to be confused," Scott sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I know, but more of those things might be coming," fWhip huffed and more howling echoed in the distance. "Dang it. Can you walk?" he asked.

Jimmy just shrugged. A lot has just happened and he was surrounded by handsome - very handsome - men, he'd be overwhelmed even if circumstances were different, tails and horns and monsters or not. "I think so, the weird itching and headache are gone?" he added with a slight shrug.

"Okay, we'll take you to the inn, I'd rather not test how Katherine might react, she tolerates us, strong yokai it is, to a degree, and that wasn't onmyoji energy... I have no idea what that was but we should be careful," Scott nodded and helped Jimmy up.

Jimmy could not, in fact, handle walking the other half of the way to the inn end ended up being carried by fWhip. The kitsune, as the man himself said was much warmer than the water ryu (a/n: my damn brain needs a separation from European dragons). And created a small soul flame - another fWhip explanation - to light up the path and maybe keep some monsters away. "I have no idea what those were but they gave me the creeps," fWhip muttered. "Like... I never saw something like that..."

"Neither have I, but they seemed eerily familiar... Like there was a connection... Something in their energy was familiar but I can't put a finger on it," Scott muttered in an annoyed tone, twirling his umbrella. It was rather cute to Jimmy's frazzled brain. "Hopefully whatever's blocking our ability to disguise ourselves runs out or we're in trouble, Katherine won't like it," he sighed.

"Isn't Gem one of the shrine maidens?" Jimmy asked he was feeling significantly better but fWhip just shook his head when he said he could walk. "Why wouldn't she be okay with..."

"It's too complicated to say now but in short words," fWhip explained as more howling could be heard in the woods. Still distant. Maybe a bit further than before? "A strong yokai who used to live here turned evil," he continued, speeding up, "and it wasn't that long ago so Katherine's not big on trusting us right now," he finished. The inn was almost in sight.

"Stratos has wards, we'll be safe there," Scott's voice was slightly shaking as more howling echoed through the woods. This time closer. He was clearly not in the mood to fight anything. Much less completely unknown to them monsters of even more unknown origin.

When they entered the back side of the ryokan they were met by a shocked Joel. As Scott and fWhip tried to explain their appearance, Jimmy looked to the path. One of the three-headed beast dogs was there snarling. "Guys? There's one..." As he was saying that Joel pulled a bow out of nowhere and shot it dead. The Beast dissolved into dark smoke as the arrow vanished.

"Inside," Joel said sternly and no one argued with that. fWhip carried Jimmy to the staff building followed closely by Scott. "Luckily all the guests are in town, enjoying all the early stalls and pop-up performances," he said and left to find his wife.

They sat in silence. fWhip scrunched his face and suddenly tails and ears were gone. "It passed," he let out a relieved sigh as Scott followed suit. "And do not apologise, you obviously have even less of an idea what happened there than the two of us," he added, patting Jimmy's cheek.

"What the hell are you two doing to Gem's friend?!" Lizzie huffed as soon as she walked in. Hand on hips, hair tied in a messy bun, still in an apron. She was clearly helping in the kitchen before Joel went to get her. Speaking of, he was behind her, hand on her shoulder.

"Protecting him?" fWhip offered. "We were walking him from the shrine so Gem can get her work started. About halfway there, he fell to the ground holding his head. Then those monster dogs, like eight or ten walk out, Joel saw one. And then Jimmy exploded this... good, warm, clearly not human, energy, destroying them and our disguises. They work now," he explained and looked over Jimmy and Scott to see if they wanted to add anything.

"What he said. We've been hearing howling the whole rest of the way," Scott nodded but he didn't look like he was quite there. He was staring out a window at the darkened forest. "There was something familiar in those monsters' energy... I haven't... It was weird," he finished his scattered thought. "How are you feeling? Even the smallest odd feeling."

Jimmy hummed. "I'm fine now. My head's slightly spinning but I think that's mostly confusion," he shrugged and there was fWhip's hand on his forehead. "I certainly feel better than I was the whole day... Like since the third torii of the stairs from the main road to here," he added and fWhip blushed slightly. The mysterious figure on the gate came back to mind. "It was you I saw on that gate?" he asked, blinking.

"Yeah... I just wanted to see Gem before Katherine puts her in miko robes..." he sighed, sitting back and staring at the tatami floor.

"So... What now?" Lizzie asked. "We can't let Katherine know Jimmy's possibly a yokai of great spiritual power, she'd flip," she sighed and looked at Joel.

"Well, I can't talk for fWhip but if you," he looked at Jimmy, "are okay with it I can stick around you to make sure no more of those dogs attack and maybe try and teach you how to control your energy? Or try to? You looked damn bad since we saw you at the temple," he pushed some errand hairs off of Jimmy's face. "And if you are okay with it," he added, looking at Lizzie and Joel.

"Oh, I don't mind, that thing gave me the creeps even through the barrier. And if Katherine and her shrine maidens are worth anything they already felt that energy and will be looking for whatever caused it," Joel hummed, leaving Lizzie's side and looking out the window looking towards the shrine. "And pretend everything is okay because of the festival... Lizzie?"

"Same as Joel. And I hope you would help if anything attacks this place," she nodded, her attitude softening a bit. "fWhip I know you hate hiding things from Gem but..."

"Don't worry, I'm going to help. Just... I'm trying to think what Jimmy can even be. I... His energy was so different from me or Scott and we're the strongest around here. It was so..." he stopped for a second. Looking right into Jimmy's eyes. "It felt, for the lack of better words, good. Like it's incapable of hurting anything but it destroyed those monsters. I never heard of Yokai with such good energy," he finished with a shrug.

Jimmy just nodded. "I have no idea what's going on but I get that we can't tell the temple because some strong yokai turned evil recently and they have a hard time with trusting more powerful yokai, and I'm guessing here, even smaller yokai aren't too happy with it," he slowly summarised what he gathered from it all. "And I might be a yokai but we have no idea what kind and why I wouldn't know it... Okay... I"m more than willing to learn how to control what I did there, even maybe learn how to utilise it to defend myself," he added, staring up at the ceiling. This was a lot.

All five of them were silent for a moment until Jimmy sighed and flopped to the tatami floor. "Can we leave heavy topics for later and rest now? I was feeling weird the whole day, exploded and learned I might not be human..."

"Of course," Lizzie jumped right back to being a host. "Sausage is making dinner, you two better stay the night, we can't be sure what's in the woods," she chattered and almost dragged the three of them to the staff house's dining area where Hermes was already setting up plates.

"We're having guest, auntie?" he asked, looking between fWhip and Scott with wide eyes. The kid obviously was excited to see them.

Lizzie nodded, and once she had the three of them seated, Joel went to make sure no more monsters were trying to breach Ryokan's protections and went to help with dinner. Taking the kid with her. Leaving them awkwardly sat together.

"Are you really okay?" fWhip asked after a minute. Or two. "You're Gem's friend... I don't... I don't often talk to humans who don't know about yokai, but you don't have to hide what you're really feeling. I... I'll understand..." he was clearly not saying everything he wanted to say. But the way Scott patted his back was more than words. Gem. It must have been hard for him to learn his twin sister was different.

"I... I'm slowly processing what's happened today... I think I'm okay but it's a lot. We'll see how I feel after some sleep," he sighed and stared out the window. It looked darn peaceful considering all the recent revelations. "I'll assume, everyone here and that Oli character is also Yokai."

He was right in assuming that but neither Scott nor fWhip would say what kind of yokai everyone was. "It's their thing to say," Scott said and the kitsune nodded. They did confirm that fWhip indeed had nine tails and he agreed to show them to Jimmy in more detail another day when they had more privacy and time. And Scott was indeed a mythical ryu and usually lived in the lake, during tourist season he moved between smaller lakes in the woods. And with a chuckle, just before the diner was served he said that he was willing to show Jimmy his full form if they ever happened to have enough room.

"Everyone in town, even just humans, knows that there are yokai around," Scott calmed Jimmy's worry that someone might see him. "The valley is locked to tourists outside the season and I'm very careful, no need to worry about me," he finished with a smile and thanked Lizzie for the food.

An hour after the dinner was finished and he got into his bed Jimmy was unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning in his futon. Overthinking his whole life and all the weird hunches he ever had. All weird shadows he could recall seeing. Was it all being a possibly forcefully disguised yokai or something else? Should he tell fWhip and Scott about all those small dumb things he avoided thanks to these premonitions? All the bigger things he could possibly stop but being a coward didn't? Probably. Next time it's just three of them he told, lied to, himself.

He was at it for maybe another half an hour. An hour? When a shadow appeared in his window. A small fox with three tails and weirdly shining in dark piercing blue eyes. The same shade as fWhip's tail fur. "fWhip?" Jimmy called out and the fox jumped in through the half-open to the summer heat window. And sad on top of /jimmy's chest. Still as a small fox, luckily for Jimmy's poor bone structure.

"Rest," Jimmy heard fWhip's voice from the fox as it settled on top of him. It was calming and reassuring. But also...

"fWhip you jerk..." suddenly Scott slinked into the room. Jimmy clearly remembered closing it but he was not about to question anything these two do. And there was a cool presence of Scott next to him. "We guessed you would be awake, analysing your whole life, hope you don't mind if we try to help."

"I certainly couldn't sleep when I learned I'm a yokai and Gem isn't. There are no yokai hybrids, it's fifty-fifty chance which the child is..." fWhip hummed, almost a whisper, not moving off of Jimmy's chest.

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empiresshipping #fanfiction #empires shipping #empires fwhip #empires scott #empires jimmy #yokai au

5 notes · View notes

thomas-and-the-chocolate-factory · 1 year

Text

Thomas and the Chocolate Factory - Chapter 6

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fanfiction

Summary: Remus Duke is the greatest chocolatier of all time, and after living the past few years a recluse, he decides to finally open his factory once again. And it's young orphan Thomas Sanders' dream to win a ticket and get to go! Will he win a ticket? And if he does, will he make it out alive?

Masterpost

----------

Thomas… to put it simply, wasn’t doing too great.

He felt bad for feeling this way. He knew he wasn’t entitled to win a ticket. There were billions of children who were just as desperate as he was - many in even worse positions than him. And yet he just couldn’t move on from the disappointment.

He sighed, kicking his feet as he fiddled with his fork, poking at the small slice of leftover birthday cake on his plate. That was what he and most of the children had been eating recently, trying to make it last as long as possible.

By this point, everyone in the orphanage knew it wouldn’t be long. Whether it would be the town council ruling the orphanage as unfit to stay open, or Dot and Larry throwing in the towel when funds start to get too low, the children knew it wouldn’t be long until they’d be rehomed. Moved away to another city that put more funding into their local orphanages. While it sounded nice to live in better conditions, the idea of leaving the town they’d grown up in and losing the two closest people they had to parental figures was daunting for the children.

It was daunting also for Dot and Larry, who sighed as they sat in their therapist’s office, waiting patiently for her to arrive. Usually they’d be talking to each other as they waited. But today, instead, an uncomfortable silence hung over them.

“Da! Da da dadada! Da de da de de da- Oh, it’s you two!” Dr Emily Picani chuckled to herself as she stepped into the office, cutting off their own dramatic entrance. “Sorry, my brain’s a bit frazzled recently, got my schedule mixed up in my head. I guess that’s what good news does to you, huh?” They sat in their chair, sighing… before her face fell a bit as she registered the quiet and morose atmosphere. “Though I sense that I’m about to get some bad news to balance that out…”

“We do have bad news, I'm afraid, Doctor…” Dot sighed. “This is going to be our last session.”

Emily blinked. “Huh? But we’ve still got so much more ground we haven’t covered! So many cartoons that could be useful to discuss and-”

“We just can’t afford it anymore,” Larry shrugged. “Therapy sessions aren’t cheap, and we really need to put the money towards the kids. They have to be our priority.”

Emily sighed. “I understand… but hey, if circumstances ever change, know my door is always open. And if there are any emergencies, I’m willing to hold some free one-off sessions for you.”

“Thank you, Dr Picani, thank you so much,” Dot smiled. “You really have done so much for us. I don’t think we could have kept getting through all this stress without your help.”

“Oh, it’s been no trouble,” Emily shrugged, smiling. “Just doing my job! Now, if this is going to be our last session together, let’s make the most of it!” She flipped open her notepad and clicked her pen.

The session went by mostly as usual, though Emily did seem to be rushing a little more, cutting their cartoon rambles short when they veered into irrelevant territory. However, eventually, she sighed, looking up at the clock. “Well, that’s our time up… You’re both sure you want to stop renewing your sessions now?”

Dot and Larry both nodded, starting to gather their things. “Again, thank you for everything, Doctor. I’m sure we’ll be back when we’re in a more financially stable position.”

“More like if.”

“Larry!”

“I’ll be looking forward to then.” Emily stood up, going to step over to the door to open it for their clients.

“Can I ask, what was the good news you mentioned earlier?” Dot asked. “I know as your clients we probably aren’t allowed to inquire about your personal life, but I’d be nice to hear something positive. It seems like we only ever get bad news these days…”

“Oh, um… Well, you’re right I’m generally not allowed to. But I guess you two aren’t my clients anymore, and it’s not exactly sensitive information. So, what the hell! I’ll tell you. I found out last night on the news that my nephew won a golden ticket!”

“That was your nephew? Oh, that’s wonderful!” Dot smiled. “It must be exciting to know you’ll get to hear all about the factory from him.”

Emily’s face fell a little. “Yeah… Anyway, um, I should be going. Gotta get my coffee break in before my next client arrives. See you both around, fingers crossed you’ll be able to book another session soon!” With that, they hurried from the room.

Dot blinked a little, before looking up at Larry. “Was it something I said?”

“Probably not, the thought of having to talk to her nephew probably just freaked her out. You saw the news last night, that kid seemed like a big-headed jerk-”

“Larry!!!”

Thomas felt his eyelids drooping as he sat in class. He didn’t have the energy to stay awake and focus on what his teacher was saying about whatever they were learning in Math. He didn’t even know what they were studying right now. Calculus? Algebra? Statistics? Trigonometry? The numbers written on the board just blended together into a fuzzy mess…

“Hey.”

He felt a poke against his shoulder. He blinked tiredly, trying to refocus his eyes as he turned to face the student sitting at the desk beside his. It was a boy, and he was holding something out to Thomas. “I heard your stomach growling pretty loudly, and figured you could use this. Quick, before Mr Barnes turns around and sees.”

Thomas hesitantly took the item from the boy’s hand, looking down at it. It was a chocolate flavoured energy bar - Duke brand, of course. He looked back up at the boy, smiling a little. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” the boy smiled, before turning back to face the front of the class, continuing to write notes.

Thomas opened up the energy bar, and didn’t waste any time in digging into it. Right now, it felt like the most satisfying thing he’d ever eaten. After finishing it, the math on the board didn’t seem quite as difficult to understand.

When the lesson finished, and the bell rang signalling the end of the school day, everyone began to pack up all their things. Thomas looked back to the boy that had given him the food. “Thanks again. I really needed that.”

“It’s nothing, really. My mom always makes me bring them just in case I need more energy, but I never really do,” the boy shrugged. “I may as well give them to people who do. I’m Nico, by the way.”

“I’m Thomas.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Thomas. Guess I’ll see you tomo-”

Nico was interrupted by a loud yell out in the corridor. “The fourth golden ticket’s been found! There’s only one left!”

Chatter immediately filled the classroom, students pulling out their phones to check if it was true. Thomas felt a bit awkward as he saw everyone else reading about the ticket winner, but was unable to do so himself. He tried to catch a few of the words they were saying, but it was hard to pay attention through all the conversations, and noise out in the hall.

“Here.” Nico was holding out one of his earbuds to Thomas. “You can watch the report on my phone.”

“Thanks,” Thomas smiled softly, shuffling closer to Nico so the cord of the earbuds would actually reach his ears, looking down at the phone screen. Nico then pressed play on the video.

Remy Sleep was sitting in a living room. It was very homely, filled with bright and colourful furniture and decor. They were sitting on the couch with two people. First was a woman, wearing a white and yellow floral dress with long black hair. Sat between her and Remy was a boy who seemed to contrast the rest of the atmosphere in the room. He had black hair dyed purple, bangs hanging and covering one of his eyes. He was wearing black ripped jeans, a long sleeved purple shirt, and a black t-shirt over the top of it. He had black eyeshadow under his eyes, which were glued to the screen of the Nintendo Switch in his hands.

“I’m here with the fourth ticket winner of Remus Duke’s competition: Virgil Teevee! Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself, Virgil?”

The boy refused to look up from his video game, and he didn’t say a word. The woman beside him, presumably his mother, sighed a little, before speaking for him. “Well, as you can probably tell, he’s very passionate about his games. He spends almost all day on some kind of device, to be honest.” She chuckled a bit. “He’s a very good kid, though, he never really gets into trouble at home. He’s able to keep himself busy, and I honestly thank his games for that.” She ruffled Virgil’s hair, finally getting him to look up from his game.

“Moooom…” he grumbled quietly.

“Ah, so he does talk!” Remy joked, though Virgil clearly didn’t appreciate the comment, huffing and turning back to his game. “So, Virgil, you mind telling us all how you won your ticket.”

Virgil blinked, seeming almost frightened for a second, fingers pausing their tapping. It was only for a moment, though, before he turned back to his game, concentrating on it. “Fine… I, um… I’d decided to look for a ticket because my friends suggested it. I don’t even like chocolate that much…”

Virgil held his headphones against his ears tightly, I’m Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance blasting into his ears. Maybe if he played it loud enough, it’d be enough to drown out the terrible thoughts.

Another test back from school. Another F.

Having the most awkward interaction of his life with the cashier at the store when buying Duke bars. And on the way out, he’d tripped and dropped all the candy bars all over the floor. Everyone around was staring at him, people had laughed…

And now he’d come home only to be told by his mom that, once again, his dad had cancelled. He still wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth anything to his dad. No, movie festivals were more important than Virgil was…

He needed more of a distraction, the music wasn’t enough. He opened up discord on his phone.

Verge: @everyone you guys able to vc?

Andy: yea sure

Missy: i’ll be on in just a minute ^^

Virgil sighed in relief as he hopped onto the voice channel. Soon he’d have chat with his friends and a video game to keep him distracted…

There were two pings as Andy and Missy both joined the call.

“So, doing our chocolate opening a little early today, I guess?”

And Virgil’s stomach immediately dropped at Andy’s words. He’d forgotten about this stupid contest…

Honestly, with every ticket found, he’d become more and more nervous, wanting to win less and less. Before he’d only been worried about his friends meeting him in real life, but now it was impossible for all three of them to go on this tour, and extremely unlikely even two of them would. If Virgil did win a ticket, he’d be stuck on a tour all day with strangers. People he’d never met meeting him, judging him. Not to mention, all the media attention. What if he was edited to look bad? Heck, what if he didn’t need to be edited, and he just came across really badly? The whole world would be judging him, including Andy and Missy. He’d lose their friendship, and never be able to make any new friends because everyone in the world would hate him-

“Verge? Hello? You got a bar ready to open?”

Virgil was startled back to reality. “I-I, uh… J-just a second…” He leaned over the side of his bed, dragging out the bag of unopened chocolate bars from beneath it. He picked up a bar, taking a deep breath. Come on, Virgil, billions of people in the world, and only five tickets. No way you’ll win one. “O-okay, um, I’m ready…”

“Okay! Open on three. One… two… three!”

Virgil ripped open the chocolate bar as he heard the other two doing the same, rips echoing through their microphones.

“Darn, nothing…” Andy huffed.

“Me neither…” Missy sighed. “How’d you do, Verge?”

Virgil felt like his heart had stopped. His hands were shaking so badly he was close to dropping the chocolate bar in his hands.

The chocolate bar and the golden ticket on top of it.

“Virgil?”

His heart started going again, now at a rapid pace, the noise banging in his head. He felt like he could barely breathe, gasping for air which refused to stay in his lungs. Tears pricked in the corner of his eyes.

“Virgil, are you okay? What happen-”

Virgil practically slammed the off button of his laptop, cutting off Missy’s question. He couldn’t let them hear him like this.

He pulled his sheets over his head, and he held his fist over his mouth, biting down on his knuckles, to muffle his gasps and sobs. He didn’t want his mother to hear. He’d gone so long without an ‘episode’, she thought he was getting better, he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Later he’d throw the golden ticket in the bin.

Unfortunately, Linda would find it, assume he’d thrown it away by accident, and rescue it.

“Wow, you definitely got lucky!” Remy whistled. “To think you were so close to accidentally throwing away the opportunity of a lifetime. You’re lucky your mom noticed. So, anything you’re particularly looking forward to about the tour?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, not really… As I said, I don’t even really like chocolate…”

“Okay… What about the other tour members? You looking forward to making new friends?”

Virgil just shrugged again.

“... Alright, well, that was the interview with the fourth Duke ticket winner, Virgil Teevee! Only one ticket remains, so good luck!”

The video ended, and Thomas took out the earbud, looking up at Nico. “Thanks for letting me borrow that.”

“It’s nothing,” Nico shrugged, before sighing a bit. “Well, one ticket left… I guess I’ll have to start buying a lot more chocolate if I want to get one.”

“Good luck,” Thomas replied, picking up his school bag. “I hope you find it.”

Nico smiled. “Good luck to you too.”

“Oh, ah… not much point in that, I can’t buy any more bars…”

Nico shrugged again. “So? I’m still gonna wish you good luck. Who knows what could happen? Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, Thomas!” He waved, before leaving the room.

Thomas smiled a little as he watched him go. Even if he knew it was basically impossible, Nico’s words inspired a little bit of hope in him that he hadn’t felt since his birthday.

Who knows? Maybe fate would lead him down a path that ended with a ticket in his hands? If anything, it was at least a pleasant thought.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #c!thomas #virgil sanders #ts linda #andy sanders #missy sanders #dot cartoon therapy #larry cartoon therapy #emile picani #nico flores #chapter 6 #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #remy sanders

12 notes · View notes

edendaphne · 3 years

Text

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 18

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

——-

CHAPTER 18: AFFETUOSO

Music glossary:

Affetuoso: to perform with passion and emotion

**Chapter illustration by @corgi-likes-chat **

----

(Mood Music: “Christofori’s Dream” - David Lanz)

Adrien’s eyelids fluttered open, a sleepy smile still present on his face. He breathed out a long, contented sigh, stretching his limbs out wide enough that they poked out of the bedcovers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.

Last night, after Marinette awoke him from his most harrowing night terror to date, he’d fallen back asleep and something remarkable happened: for the second time in years, he’d actually had a pleasant dream. The only other time he hadn’t suffered from his usual nightmares ever since becoming Chat Noir was on the first night that he’d arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence.

He tried to think back, wondering what might have caused this, not just last night, but back on that first day Marinette had brought him home. What did these two occurrences have in common?

His mouth quirked to the side and his brow furrowed, deep in thought, trying to remember. He wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind when he’d arrived a couple of months back, given all that had happened when he ran away from his father; so it was no surprise that his memory of that night was hazy at best. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a correlation; if there was one, maybe he could figure out how to repeat it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand sliding across his midsection. Disturbed by his movements, a smaller body rolled toward him, settling comfortably on his chest and breathing out a drowsy sigh.

He looked down and there she was: sweet, lovely Marinette; one of the dearest and most important people in his life. The raven-haired girl stirred, letting out a small whine; Adrien stilled, subconsciously holding his breath, not wanting to wake her and accidentally reveal his identity.

This became much harder when she reached around him, her fingers lightly skimming across his rib cage. His muscles tensed and he bit back a laugh; why did he have to be so darn ticklish?!

He readjusted himself, trying to shuffle out from underneath her; but she clinged to him like an overgrown barnacle, even in her unconscious state. I guess she’s a cuddler, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile about how well that suited her.

It was still pretty dark in the room, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. He glanced over at the wall clock; he still had about an hour and a half before he had to report to work at the bakery, so he didn’t have to rush to get ready. Relieved, he sagged back down onto his pillow. He could relax for a little longer, he supposed.

Deciding to check his notifications while Marinette slept, he gingerly reached towards his nightstand to grab his phone, careful not to disturb her. He’d deactivated all his social media accounts since running away from home, so there weren’t very many notifications; there was a school-related email and a couple of late night funny memes from Nino.

Adrien checked the Ladyblog next. No news about any akumas this morning, thankfully. However, there were a few blurry snapshots of the previous night’s attack. He scrolled down for a bit, then stopped, his eyes popping open as he focused his attention on a particular photo.

He couldn’t suppress the lovestruck sigh that escaped his lips when he stared at a picture of Ladybug. His Lady was breathtaking, her eyes so ethereal, her smile utterly resplendent. She was indescribably beautiful, both inside and out and there was absolutely nothing he would change about her. He was hopelessly smitten, no doubt about it.

A few months ago, he would have berated himself for feeling this way about his mortal enemy. But his entire life had been turned upside down since then, and he wholeheartedly embraced this unexpected development.

The next photo was taken after the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had set everything back to where it should be. Ladybug had seen that Alya was about to snap a photo, so she grabbed Chat and turned him around to face the camera, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She grinned widely, and did a peace sign with her free hand. So cute.

He glanced over to his own face and instinctively grimaced. He was winking at the camera with a goofy, cheerful salute, not bothering to channel the suave, sophisticated mannerisms of a proper model that he’d incurred over the years. God, I’m so cringy, he thought.

Nevertheless, he saved the picture onto his phone. It was the first photo of them together like this, as opposed to impersonal ones taken by the media from afar, or during press releases and interviews.

It had only been posted a few hours ago, but already it had thousands of likes and comments. He didn’t dare look through those, however. Not since he first discovered the kinds of things people wrote about Chat Noir, both before and after his change in alliances. It was better to avoid those, lest he ruin his day reading about how much some people still hated him.

But he remembered Marinette’s words from the night before. She was right; he had to have hope, and believe that things would slowly get better. Attitude was everything.

Speaking of Marinette…

He looked down at his roommate once again. By this point, she’d slinked and climbed almost entirely on top of him, utilizing him like a mattress. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wondered how in the world he’d be able to slip out of bed undetected.

All the stealth-based videogames I’ve ever played have prepared me for this moment. I got this!! he thought, hyping himself up.

Taking a deep breath in, he rolled over to his side, managing to slide Marinette’s ragdoll-like form back onto the mattress. She made a small noise and he froze, electricity crawling up the back of his neck. A few tense moments passed, and her stirring subsided, her breathing becoming slow and even once again. He exhaled, just now realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Freedom!! Adrien celebrated as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head, taking care not to hit the ceiling lights. His skin felt grimy with dried sweat from the night before; a shower was exactly what he needed right now. He tiptoed over to get a change of clothes from the dresser, giving the occasional glance towards the bed to make sure Marinette was still asleep.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped by her side, a warm smile spreading across his face. He bent over and gave the top of her head a small kiss. Where would he be without her and her family? She and Sabine especially went out of their way to help him feel at home, to make him feel like he belonged, instead of treating him like a nuisance, or like some freeloader just taking up space. He loved them all so much; he vowed to himself to make it up to them someday.

He pulled the bedcovers up to Marinette’s shoulders so she wouldn’t miss the extra warmth too much, then made his way to the bathroom to start the day.

Marinette stirred, enveloped in softness and a familiar scent of spice and fresh rain. Eyes still closed, she extended her arm, reaching for the oversized cat pillow on her bed that she always liked to cuddle.

Her searching hand found something soft. Aha! She brought it closer, snuggling it tight, then began to get comfortable again. But then, her pillow started poking her cheek, over and over and over. The pillow’s poking only intensified when she tried squeezing it even harder. How rude!

Wait... what?

A single eyelid groggily slid open, meeting a small pair of eyes of a distinctive shade of green. A rather frazzled-looking Plagg stared back, his expression unamused from being squished between her and the pillow she was hugging.

“Sorry, Plagg,” she slurred sleepily as she pulled away to give him some space. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed his little arms, raising a brow. “I live here, remember?”

“But why are you in my room–– oh, wait…” she stopped, the memory of last night starting to rush back to her. This wasn’t her room; it was Chat’s. She’d slept in his room last night. And the bed she was lying in was his bed. These were his blankets and pillows, and they carried his scent. Heat rose to her face and a multitude of imaginary butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she realized that she’d actually spent the night with him, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.

And then a second realization dawned on her: Chat Noir was gone.

She sat up with a start, her head whipping back and forth to search for him. As she was about to panic, she heard the shower running in the en suite bathroom, punctuated by some cheerful humming. With a heavy, relieved sigh, she laid back down, careful not to squish the tiny cat god next to her.

“By the way, Little Bug,” Plagg murmured, meekly rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for helping my kid last night.”

“Oh, of course, Plagg!” she replied. “I’m always happy to help however I can.”

He gave her a melancholy smile. “I just wish there was more I could’ve done. I tried waking him up myself, but he couldn’t hear me at all, no matter how hard I tried.” He sighed, twisting his mouth into a pained frown. “He doesn’t deserve this. He's already gone through so much.”

“Plagg, no, it’s okay! You did your best, and I’m sure Chat knows that too. I’m just glad I was able to get through to him. It was lucky that I happened to be downstairs at that time. Chat couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”

Plagg grinned widely at her. “I always knew I liked you,” he remarked, scooting closer and nuzzling into her.

Marinette smiled back, returning the hug and kissing the top of his head, followed by providing him with some gentle scratches behind the ears. He let out a small, contented purr as he leaned into her hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Plagg spoke again, “Little Bug, there’s... something else you need to know.”

They pulled apart, and Marinette eyed him with trepidation. “What is it?”

“It was too dark, so you didn’t see it, but–” he said with a grim tone in his voice, “–I need to let you know what really happened last night.”

“Huh?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What do you mean? I know he said his night terrors aren’t usually this bad, but was there something else?”

A dark look flickered on Plagg’s face. “Hawkmoth tried to akumatize him last night.”

Marinette felt like she’d been dropped into a vat of ice water. “W- WHAT?!” she sputtered. “B-but how is that possible?! Akumatized?? He was asleep! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize people who are unconscious!!” She paused, pondering the possibility. “Right…?”

“It’s tricky, but not impossible,” Plagg replied. “Hawkmoth knows about Chat Noir’s nightmares, so he must’ve sensed his opportunity and finally taken it last night.”

Marinette brought a hand to her temple in disbelief.

Plagg continued, “I don’t know why he decided to try it now, instead of when he first ran away. And what if–” he gulped, and his voice quavered slightly as he continued, unable to conceal his fear, “What if he tries it again? What if he tries it every night?”

“No… he wouldn’t… he can’t!!” Marinette cried, staring at the bathroom door, her mind racing a million miles a minute. She clenched her fists as she tried not to give into the feelings of dismay and anxiety that were clawing away at her. “Plagg… What do we do?! Hawkmoth’s patterns seem to be getting more erratic and desperate recently. Is he under some kind of deadline? Why is he doing this??”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Tikki answered from across the room.

Marinette practically leaped off the bed in surprise due to Tikki’s abrupt entrance. “Tikki!” she exclaimed.

The brightly colored kwami hovered towards them and elaborated, “Firstly, as Chat grows older, his powers will continue to get stronger, as will yours, so you’ll be more difficult for Hawkmoth to defeat as time goes on. Secondly, I think the effects of misusing the butterfly miraculous must be catching up to him as well. His desperation suggests that maybe he thinks he’s running out of time.”

“Out of time? What do you mean?” Marinette asked, confused.

Plagg sighed. “It’s his health,” he answered. "He wasn’t doing very well even before we left. Slowly but steadily, it’s been getting worse for a while.” He turned to face Tikki. “You think Hawkmoth believes that he’s gonna… you know... soon?”

Tikki shrugged in response, her expression blank.

“Oh… I see,” Marinette said, her voice almost a whisper.

Her mind raced, a torrent of emotions crashing into her simultaneously, like a rowboat in a tempest, slamming into a cliffside without respite.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about this new information. Her chest felt tight, like it did when she wanted to cry. Should she feel happy or sad that her mortal enemy was getting sicker and sicker, to the point where his life was potentially in danger? Was it okay to feel–dare she say it– relieved?

What was she supposed to think? As a hero, was it more important to be merciful, or was it more important to be just? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely opposite directions. Despite hating the man with every fiber of her being, part of her thought that maybe dying was too extreme a punishment. And yet, at the same time, the hurt, embittered part of herself thought that maybe dying would be too easy, like he was getting let off the hook instead of being forced to acknowledge his wrongs and feel remorse for the horrible things he’d done.

For years, she’d dreamed about the day when Hawkmoth would be defeated and his miraculous confiscated. It was supposed to be a happy time, full of rejoicing and excitement. But she’d never considered the possibility that Hawkmoth would be defeated by an entirely different force, one that she had no say in how or when it happened. It didn’t feel fair. She hated feeling this powerless.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief tug at her sleeve. She looked down at Tikki, who motioned towards the bathroom with a small nod. It was then that she noticed the noise–or rather– the absence of it, which could only mean one thing: Chat Noir had finished his shower, and he’d be coming out of the bathroom any minute now.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Tikki whispered.

Marinette nodded. She turned to Plagg and whispered, “We’ll talk more later. I’ll call Master Fu later today and see if he has any advice.”

“M’kay. See ya,” he replied with a small wave. “Bye, Sugarcube.”

Tikki looked back and gave him a reassuring smile, then followed Marinette out the door.

Plagg hovered towards the windowsill while he waited for his charge, plopping down with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the window, taking in the many colors of the dawn sky, which looked almost too bright and vibrant for his liking. How dare the heavens look so beautiful while he felt so miserable inside? The day hadn’t even really started, and yet the only thing he wanted to do was to just crawl back into bed. He dearly hoped that the heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut would go away soon.

(A short while later)

Work at the bakery had been lively and hectic today; so much so that Chat Noir had to be reminded when his shift was over and that he needed to head to school. He gave Sabine a parting hug, the latter thanking him for his hard work and giving him some encouraging words as she helped dust the flour off his suit and hair.

Chat retrieved his cloak from a coat hanger by the door and stepped into the stairwell that led to the living quarters, so that he could retrieve his school supplies and exit through Marinette’s balcony trap door as he normally did. That was definitely one of the plus sides of working in the kitchen while transformed; he could wear his school outfit underneath and not require a change of clothes or a shower when he was through. He could merely detransform and be good as new.

As he ascended up the stairs, he heard a familiar deep voice call out to him from below. Chat froze, then turned around, trying to keep his nerves under control.

“Could I speak with you for a minute?” Tom asked.

Uh-oh.

“O-of course, Mr. Dupain,” Chat replied, trying to keep his voice even despite his nerves.

Tom’s face was mostly neutral, but his body was rigid and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. Chat did his best not to cringe as he stood in front of the much taller man who, despite not being a superhero, looked like he could toss him clear to the Eiffel Tower if he felt like it. To prevent himself from fidgeting, Chat finally opted to stick his hands inside his pockets.

“What is it, sir? D-did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was running a bit late, so I apologize if I didn’t put something back in the right spot. O-or did I mess up an order?? I’m sorry, I can go back and fix… whatever it is!”

“No, everything’s fine; it’s something else,” he answered, and Chat felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease a tiny bit.

However, it came back full force when Tom didn’t say anything else. Chat’s heartbeat sped up as they stood face to face in silence, unsure of the route this conversation was about to take.

What else could he be in trouble for? Did he find out Marinette had fallen asleep in his bedroom yesterday? Oh no… Did Tom think he and Marinette had… done something unseemly together last night?! Was he getting kicked out of the house?? His mind raced and his chest thumped, and he prepared himself to beg on his knees for forgiveness if need be.

A few agonizingly long and awkward seconds later, Tom spoke again, “Chat Noir… I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Oh, I see. Wait… WHAT?!?” Chat felt like someone had yanked the carpet out from underneath him. “Apologize?? What for?”

Tom lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, his entire posture taut as a bowstring. “We didn’t really get off on the right foot, you and I. You’ve been nothing but cordial and polite, and all I’ve done since you arrived is give you the cold shoulder, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wanted to clear the air and start over, if that’s okay with you.”

“Mr. Dupain! N-no, please, it’s okay!” Chat sputtered, his hands waving frantically. “I totally understand why you would have reservations about me living here, o-or even interacting with you guys at all! They’re totally justified concerns! I mean, up until a few months ago, I was still working with Hawkmoth; so the fact that you even allowed me into your home at all is incredibly kind of you! I’ve never felt any ill will towards you, I swear! You were just doing what any good father would––” he trailed off, trying to keep the melancholy out of his voice, “–would do.”

Tom winced and sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “That’s exactly my point, though. It may have been justified at first, but that was back then . I tolerated you for the sake of my wife and daughter, but I was always suspicious. I should’ve given you a chance instead of just judging you for no reason, especially after all this time. So I wanted to try to make it up to you.”

It was then that Tom brought something shiny out of his shirt pocket. It was an adorable little keychain shaped like a croissant. But wait… no, it wasn’t just a keychain, Chat realized. There was a key dangling on the end. A house key. Tom handed it over, doing his best to try to conceal a timid smile.

Chat gaped at him, reeling from what was happening. “I… I don’t know what to say. That is so generous of you! Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” he replied meekly, staring into his hands at the key. HIS key.

He felt the man’s large hand pat him on the shoulder and Chat looked up, meeting his soft, forest green eyes. “Please, call me Tom.”

Chat had to consciously fight the urge to let his jaw drop. If he wasn’t dreaming last night with Ladybug’s revelation, he was surely dreaming now. “Y-yes, sir! Uhh, Mr. Tom, sir. Uhh, I mean…” he stammered, still not recovered from having been gobsmacked out of nowhere.

The older man gave out a hearty laugh. “Just Tom. And please, if there’s anything you need, just say the word. Even if it’s just someone to lend an ear. You’ve got a good heart despite the bad hand that’s been dealt to you, and you have so much potential. We’re happy to have you in our family, even if you’re only here temporarily. Just know you’ll always have a home here with us.”

Chat’s heart swelled with affection, so full that it felt like it might burst, and his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. He threw his arms around the giant man in front of him, someone who he never thought would fully accept him, squeezing hard.

“Thank you, Tom! Thank you so much, I’m just–” he let out a shuddering sigh then continued, voice cracking, “–thank you.”

Tom squeezed back firmly, giving him an affectionate pat. Failing to hide a sniffle, he then added, “I should let you get going, I don’t wanna make you late for school.” The pair pulled apart, and Tom ruffled Chat’s hair. “Be safe out there, kiddo.”

After saying their goodbyes, Chat bounded up the stairs, practically floating with glee. He’d missed this feeling; the feeling of being part of a family. As he emerged onto the rooftop balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, his heart full of excitement and hope.

He arrived at the school in high spirits and a huge grin on his face. He detransformed in a discreet location and practically skipped to the school’s entrance; then he entered the campus, carefree, joyful, and blissfully unaware of the dark eyes that followed him inside.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Ladynoir #enemies to lovers #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes #art by others #Fanfic art

587 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 3 years

Text

tiny love || 8

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all.

warnings: f!reader, angst??

wc: 3.9k

m.list | ch. 7 ↞ ch. 8 ↠ ch. 9

The film was alright. There was a certain chaos to it, an unhinged energy that gave it real character. Although, you weren’t quite sure how to feel about the reverse-Freudian implications of Marty’s mother getting a crush on him.

The phone in your lap buzzed, shooting light upwards into the darkened room. Glancing down, you read the name ‘Kohei’ on the screen.

It’d be rude to text him back during the movie, right? Since Iwaizumi was showing you this specific film… Although, it’d been your choice.

You turned your mind away from the question, your eyes flitting back to the screen.

The man with the frazzled white hair – Doc, was it? – was speaking at a rapid-fire pace. If it weren’t for the subtitles, you would’ve been totally lost.

Your phone buzzed again. Still Kohei. You covered the screen with your hand, trying to block out the ambiance-ruining brightness.

Yet another buzz.

“Who is that?” Iwaizumi frowned. “They’ve got a lot to say.”

“Sorry,” you blushed, turning your phone over so it was face down on the arm of the couch. “It’s Kohei.”

“Kohei?” There’s a strange lilt in Iwaizumi’s voice.

You ignored it. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure you met him at the party.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi hummed. “Right.”

He said nothing more, turning his attention back to the screen.

You bit your lip, fingers tightening around your phone.

It felt a little weird, doing something so casual with him. Well, you’d been doing casual things with him for a while, but something about this just felt so domestic. Probably didn’t help that the last time you did this together, he’d kissed you.

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

God, that felt like a lifetime ago now. And maybe it was, in some way; neither of you were those people anymore.

But a part of you still wanted to kiss him, just like back then.

You knew you shouldn’t think about it. He’d pushed you away two years ago for a reason. If you wanted this whole living situation thing to keep going smoothly, you had to respect that.

And yet, it felt unfair.

This was all so easy. So natural.

But it was something you couldn’t have. Something you couldn’t hope for.

You swallowed roughly, slipping your hands under your thighs.

You couldn’t think about it. If you did, you’d just make things worse.

And you were willing to do just about anything to maintain the delicate friendship between the two of you.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So,” Tooru’s voice came through the speaker with its usual levity. “How’s living with Iwa?”

Your stomach dropped. “It’s good!”

It’s not a lie. You just didn’t want to talk about it with Tooru. At least half of the things that made the whole arrangement so fun were things you didn’t exactly want to mention to your older brother.

“You don’t have to rub it in!” He whined.

“Rub what in?” You blinked, a little lost.

“The fact that you get to live with Iwa!”

Oh. Right.

“You’re the one who suggested it,” you teased.

“I know, but it doesn’t make it sting any less!”

“He would’ve killed you within the first day,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Not true!” Tooru barked.

You laughed. You didn’t need to see him to know the exact expression on his face. He’d always been comically expressive, even as a child.

That warm silence that always followed laughter settled over the call.

“Oh, man,” Tooru chuckled. “No, but how are you going?” He asked.

It’d been a while since the two of you had really gotten the chance to talk. Both of you had just been too busy; any catchups you managed to sneak in didn’t allow for much time to really get into the details of your lives.

But today was the day.

“I’ve been doing really well, actually!” It was such a delight to be able to say those words with full sincerity. “I’m still adjusting and everything, but… I think it’s going to be good.”

Small hiccups with Iwaizumi aside, everything was under control. Sure, sometimes you weren’t quite sure what they were saying in class, and yes, you did procrastinate more than perhaps you should’ve – but you were making a life here.

“See, I told you!” He chided.

“Yeah, you keep reminding me of that,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he hummed, adopting his favourite ‘hoity-toity older brother’ tone, “you should’ve listened to me in the first place.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed.

Tooru had told you time and time again that things’d worked out. ‘If I can move to a whole new country on my own, then you can definitely do it with Iwa’s help,’ he’d said. You’d had trouble believing him at first; but for once, he’d been right.

“I’m glad the two of you have each other, you know?” He said.

You flinched. Now those were words you hadn’t expected to hear.

“Huh?”

“You and Iwa,” Tooru explained. “He doesn’t talk about his feelings often, but I think you being there has really helped him relax.”

Your stomach churned.

Was that true? Had your presence really made Iwaizumi feel better? He’d done a lot to help you, but you felt like you hadn’t really done anything for him. You’d just felt like something of a burden.

But if that wasn’t actually true…

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly. God, you hoped your voice wasn’t giving anything away.

“Well, you know,” Tooru said, “you’re someone he knows from home. That sounds pretty comforting to me.”

You were grateful he couldn’t see the pink blooming on your cheeks. “Are you asking me to move to Argentina?” You teased. You didn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no—”

“Because I’d rather die.”

The gasp that erupted from Tooru was so loud it peaked the audio. “How dare you? If we were living together, I’d be able to keep an eye on you. And, I could ward of any pesky boys.”

“That’s the problem.”

“Don’t be so inappropriate!” Tooru shrieked. “I don’t want to know the details!”

“I wasn’t going to tell you any of the details!”

“You were about to!”

“No I wasn’t!”

“I’ll have you know, you are far too young to be dating, young lady, and that—”

“I’m only a year younger than you!”

“And?”

“Shut up, Tooru!”

✧ ✧ ✧

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The kitchen table was supposed to help you get your ass into gear. But instead, your laptop was open, but nothing had been done. The screen was probably a few moments away from turning idle.

A to-do list stared back at you, unrelenting. The sound of rain against the windows was your only companion. Iwaizumi had left for the gym some time ago, and you’d decided that music would be too much of a distraction.

Not that the absence of it was helping you.

Come on, you thought to yourself, just focus.

Easier said than done.

You groaned, leaning back against your chair. Why was it so hard to focus?

A deep breath, and then—

Slap!

Your cheeks stung from the impact of your own palms.

No difference.

The sound of the door opening was a beautiful reprieve. Finally, a worthy excuse to procrastinate—

“Hey.” Iwaizumi said a little breathlessly, holding his hand up in greeting.

You gaped at him.

Words might’ve come to mind if it was any other circumstances.

But when he was just standing there like that, you couldn’t help it.

A white shirt that clung to his torso, cheeks flushed with recent exertion, hair all messy—

It was official. You needed to start writing up your will, saying your goodbyes, getting all your chickens in order. Iwaizumi was certifiably too much, and you couldn’t handle it.

You were doing your best to respond. Truly. But it’s like his chest was a damn magnet, drawing your eyes back to it no matter how hard you tried to look at him respectfully.

Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid shirt and his stupid chest—

“You good?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Me?” Your gaze snapped up to meet his. “Oh, yeah. I’m great, actually.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Well,” you gaped at him, trying to fight off the myriad of phantasmal shirtless Iwaizumi’s dancing around your head. You were losing. “I’m offended that you’re not more concerned.”

“You’ll recover,” he grinned.

You pouted at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this treatment.”

Iwaizumi chuckled again, ambling across the room with an aggravatingly slow pace. The sooner he was out of sight, the better.

“It’s tough love, sweetheart,” he tutted. “It’s how the world works.”

“Well—” You huffed, trying to think of a retort. But, you were far too distracted by the use of ‘sweetheart’ – even if it hadn’t been used in an affectionate way.

“I’m going to have a shower,” Iwaizumi said, smirking at you. “I hope you’re feeling better by the time I get out.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, eyes fixated determinedly on your computer screen. If you looked up and saw his glutes, you were sure you’d implode.

You covered your face with your forearms, letting out a silent scream.

Why did God hate you? Why did he want you to suffer? Every time you thought you’d got it under control, you were reminded of the fact that Iwaizumi looked like that, and any work you’d done to neatly tuck your romantic feelings into a box managed to wriggle like a rebellious young cat.

Every goddamn time, you were reminded of just how determined he was, how responsible, how quietly caring, how—

No. You shook your head. No need to indulge those thoughts. Not when you were supposed to be doing work.

Although, there was no way you were getting anything done today.

✧ ✧ ✧

“How old are you in these?” You grinned, glancing at Kohei.

His cheeks flushed. “I think I was like… sixteen here?”

“Sixteen, huh?”

“You know what high schools like back home,” he whined. “We all deserve some stress relief.”

“And yours was… running at each other across a field while screaming at the top of your lungs?”

“You should try it,” he beamed. “It’s surprisingly effective.”

You laughed, your body curving towards him.

You hadn’t planned on inviting Kohei over today. You’d just happened to bump into him by chance on campus as you were heading home. As usual, he’d struck up quite the conversation. But you’d wanted to get home before it got dark, so you’d invited him to come with you.

So there you were, sitting on your couch in the front room, listening to Kohei tell you about the stupid video he and his high school friends made back in Osaka. Most of them were re-enactments of Naruto scenes.

To each their own, you supposed.

The creak of front door came from around the corner.

“Hey Hajime!” You called out.

“Hey,” he called back, voice warm.

“You’re home later than usual,” you said.

“I was hanging out with Taiki,” he explained. “We got bubble tea.”

“Oh, nice,” you nodded, watching as he came into view.

He smiled as he caught sight of you. It took him a moment to realise you weren’t alone.

“You remember Kohei, right?” You gestured to the boy sitting next to you.

“Hello,” Kohei nodded, bright smile on his face.

“Hi,” Iwaizumi said. His smile disappeared, expression becoming even stonier than usual.

The atmosphere felt a shade cooler than it had a moment prior.

“You didn’t tell me you were having someone over,” Iwaizumi said coolly, heading to his bedroom.

“It was impromptu,” you explained.

“Mhm,” was the last sound you heard before he disappeared down the hall.

You clenched your fists in your lap. Had something happened? Was it okay to ask?

If something was up, Kohei certainly hadn’t noticed it. Not that you expected him to.

“How’d you feel about the most recent Godzilla film?” He asked.

“Uh… I don’t think we have it.” That was the polite way of saying ‘Iwaizumi hates that film with his entire being, and he wouldn’t dare debase this household by buying it on DVD.’

You’d heard his rant a couple of times, actually – insufficient screen time for Godzilla, a lack of understanding of the point of a monster movie, mediocre battles.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Kohei shrugged. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Ah, I see,” you nodded.

Why did it already feel like agreeing to a movie was a mistake?

✧ ✧ ✧

Thirty minutes in and you knew it was a mistake.

You were bored. Horribly, terribly bored.

But you didn’t have the heart to tell Kohei that when he, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself.

Besides, you could find other ways to occupy yourself. You could just think (see: fantasise) about Gojou Satoru. That’d been more than enough to keep you entertained during your duller classes.

Iwaizumi ambled into the kitchen, his eyes flicking to the two of you for only a second. You held up your hand a little as a greeting; he didn’t return it.

You swallowed, turning your ‘attention’ back to the TV.

Something was wrong. You didn’t know what, but… If Kohei wasn’t there, you would’ve just walked over to Iwaizumi and asked him if there was any way you could help. But having a guest… complicated things.

Said guest stretched his arms over his head. You hoped, absentmindedly, that he’d had a shower recently.

He laid one of his arms along the top of the couch, just ghosting your shoulders.

You managed to hold back a frown. What was he doing? Was he trying to hit on you? Or was it absentminded? If it was the former, then it was a rather childish way of—

A loud clutter erupted from the kitchen. A quiet ‘shit’ quickly followed.

You shot to your feet on instinct, rushing over to where a very disgruntled Iwaizumi stood.

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down.

Water stained his shirt, the water jug lying sideways on the countertop.

“I’m fine,” Iwaizumi grunted, setting it upright.

You grabbed the tea towel, dabbing at his shirt. Sure, it wouldn’t be much help, but—

“I said I’m fine.”

You draw back sharply, shocked by the harshness in his voice.

Instead you turned to the puddle of water on the counter, laying the tea towel over it. You watched as it turned a shade darker, seeping through the cotton until there wasn’t a single inch of dry cloth left.

Iwaizumi had turned away from you, standing in front of the sink as he refilled the water jug.

You pressed your lips together, concern and agitation brewing in your gut.

He seemed… Stressed? Irritated? Bitter?

But you couldn’t ask. Not right now. You’d have to wait until Kohei was gone, at the very least. And you didn’t want to pry. Iwaizumi didn’t appreciate that sort of thing.

Was there anything you could do for now? Anything at all?

“Did you want to order food with us?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. It was the best thing you could think of; giving him one less thing to worry about might help, right?

“No,” Iwaizumi said curtly.

You blinked at him. “You sure? It’ll save you the trouble of making dinner.”

“I’d rather eat on my own,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” you murmured.

You were at a total loss. Something was wrong.

But you turned away, slinking back to the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Kohei asked as you sat yourself back down.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

As a precaution, you set a little more distance between the two of you. If you sat any closer, he might get the wrong idea.

✧ ✧ ✧

After what felt like three days, the film was over. What’d happened in it? You couldn’t say. You hadn’t been paying attention.

You’d instead been preoccupied with Iwaizumi.

Maybe you were worrying too much over something minor. Maybe he’d just had a bad day at work. Maybe Taiki had just been a brat. Maybe he just had a few assignments due in close succession.

But that didn’t stop you from feeling anxious. Was that pathetic?

At the very least, you wanted to make sure he was okay. This behaviour seemed… weird.

“What time is it?” You turned to Kohei, tilting your head to the side.

“Uh… eight,” he said, checking his phone.

It was that late already? But there was still so much you needed to get done…

You yawned, stretching you hands above your head. “Thanks for hanging out with me today,” you said, turning to smile at Kohei.

“No problem,” he nodded, in response, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Nothing more needed to be said to get the message across.

The two of you walked towards the front door, Kohei’s steps a little slower than yours.

You didn’t want to make it look like you were trying to rush him out of there, but you also didn’t want to give him the impression that you wanted him to stay. Everything just felt so weird, so… so high stakes. Like any little action you made was at risk of being misinterpreted.

“Well…” Kohei lingered at your door for a moment, looking at you with what seemed to be hope in his eyes.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You smiled.

“Sure,” he nodded, opening the door. “Thanks.” He seemed a tad more dour than usual. Your stomach twisted a little.

“Bye!” You said, hoping that this, at least, would set your boundaries.

He didn’t seem bold enough to make an actual move, but you’d rather save the trouble.

You watched with a tiny sense of relief blooming in your chest as he stepped over the threshold and walked away.

Once the door finally closed, you let out a long sigh.

Something was up. Even you could tell that. His attempts at flirting, while juvenile, were earnest. What a strange evening this had been…

At the very least, you made a note to not invite him to your house alone again. That’d been your first mistake.

You dragged yourself to the kitchen, pouring out a glass of water. The tea towel was still soaked through, laid out on the counter. You’d probably have to get a bath towel to clean this mess up.

You sunk to the floor, feeling the cool tiles against the back of your thighs.

Were you going to have to turn Kohei down? God, you didn’t want to do that. That sounded awkward. And he was genuinely a sweet guy – your heart just wasn’t in the right space.

Not while you were living with Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi.

Something was off with him, too. But you had no idea what. He’s always been tight-lipped about his own feelings. Even two years ago, it had never been about him; it’d be about the potential ramifications his actions could’ve had on the people around him.

He never wanted to be a burden. Even though he’d leant you a hand so many times these past six months, you knew he’d never ask for the same in return.

But you wanted to help. He deserved support.

Should you ask? Should you try bringing it up, or—

“Oh, fuck.”

Your looked up sharply.

Iwaizumi was stood at the entrance of the kitchen, shoulders tense with surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” you swallowed, crossing your legs.

He just grunted in response, turning his attention to the fridge.

You bit your lip, watching him closely. His posture was tense, his jaw stiffer than usual.

“Hey, Hajime?” You asked, voice soft and quiet.

“What?” His response was quick, sharp.

“Are you alright?” Perhaps you should’ve asked this earlier. Perhaps you shouldn’t ask it at all. But it was too late to take it back.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, half-slamming the fridge door.

“I know you’re lying,” you said softly.

He may keep his feelings to himself, but he wasn’t the best at disguising them. Especially when it came to annoyance.

With Tooru, it tended to bubble over, resulting in some rant or threat. But these days, you didn’t really see him get pissed except for when the washing machine wasn’t working properly.

“Mind your own business.”

Those words cut you to your core.

This was… strange. Unusual. He’d seemed fine this morning, and as far as you knew, he’d just… been to the gym. His demeanour had only taken a nose-dive when…

“Why are you being like this?” You asked, voice thin and tight. God, this better not be what you were thinking.

“Being like what?” Iwaizumi mumbled, staring at his phone.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

Did he really have no idea that he was acting like a petulant child who didn’t want to eat their vegetables?

“Do you have a problem with Kohei?” He couldn’t dodge that question.

“No,” he said, still looking at his phone. “He just comes off as a bit desperate.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You can’t be serious,” Iwaizumi scoffed. “He’s not subtle.”

You stared at him, total confusion clouding your mind.

What on earth was he on about? Desperate? Subtle? Wasn’t it just a case of him having a grudge for no reason?

Wait. Holy fuck. Was he… jealous?

The realisation washed over you like a fever.

Anger, rage, bitterness. It all collapsed in on itself, feelings you’d been supressing for two years.

He’d crushed your heart in the palm of his hand two years ago. Told you that any kind of romantic relationship between the two of you would be too much of a risk.

And you’d let him.

You hadn’t fought back. You hadn’t stood up for your own feelings. You’d just let him do what he wanted, what he thought was best. And never, not even once, had you made your feelings known.

But here he was, with the audacity to be jealous of a guy flirting with you.

He didn’t own you. He had no say in what happened in your personal life. If you wanted to sleep around, if you wanted to have a long-term partner that wasn’t him… it didn’t matter. It was your business, not his.

And yet, the worst thing of all was that this response, this jealousy, made your heart flutter. It made you hopeful; that maybe, this time, things might be different.

That Iwaizumi Hajime wasn’t so far out of reach. That this time, you had a chance.

Fuck him.

“No,” you hissed. “I’m not letting you break my heart again.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes blew wide, his lips parting slightly.

“You dropped me like I was nothing two years ago,” you scoffed. “You don’t get to act like a spoilt little brat just because you’re jealous.”

“Look, I—” He stopped himself in his tracks.

He really had nothing to say for himself, huh?

You glared at him, the corners of your eyes beginning to sting. “You’re acting like a child,” you hissed. “I hoped you were better than that.”

You didn’t give him time to respond.

He didn’t deserve to.

You stormed off to your room, slamming the door behind you.

A deep, shuddering breath wasn’t enough to still your stuttering heart. Nor was it enough to move the lump in your throat.

God, what a colossal disaster.

But for once, it wasn’t your fault.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: sorry this one’s late! thank you for your patience :( i hope it was worth the wait

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love

466 notes · View notes

dollfaced-erin · 3 years

Text

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: I would say that to all the townspeople (Y/n) has met before her parting, she’d have at least 4 hearts with everyone, (minus the bachelors and bachelorettes who were not in the timeline) and 6 hearts with Robin, Sebastian, Abby, Caroline and Jodi.

(Lets just say Robin was good friends with grandpa and found his granddaughter a favorite)

(Caroline found her as a well-mannered and kind child when she was younger. She surely hasn’t changed her thoughts about the girl)

(Jodi always wanted a daughter and found (Y/n) a cute little baby, she really liked it when (Y/n) would come over to play with Sam and help her around the house, teaching Sam to do some housework) (the woman is fond of her)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Harvey grabbed (Y/n)’s wrist and felt her pulse. “Based on the blood she lost, she’ll need a blood transfusion! And the equipment is in the clinic!” the older male said, hoisting (Y/n) into his arms.

“I’ll need a person with her blood type or an O positive!” Harvey said as they rushed out of the cottage. “Does anyone have that blood type?”

‘Shoot!’ Sebastian thought to himself. He’s a darn A! They had no time to scan for her blood type. But he knew who has an O. “I know someone! !’ll go!” he called out before parting from the group.

The dark haired male was running down the stairs near the river before heading to the bridge near Joja mart. During certain days, the person he was searching for would be on the bridge till late.

And thank Yoba, these were on of the days.

He didn’t really want to talk to anyone, but he really didn’t have a choice.

‘But why are you doing this? For one girl?’ a voice at the back of his mind whispered. ‘You really aren’t like this. Why are you panicking so much?’

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, thinking about the voice. That was true. He isn’t one to help others. He mainly kept to himself. He’d usually be cool and wouldn’t talk much. Why was he panicking?

Was it because he hated the sight of her limp body?

Probably

He didn’t want to be burdened for his faults if he didn’t do anything but just left her body there.

Yeah, that was it.

“Hey, Seb!” Abigail called from the bridge, raising a hand to greet him over. “What’s with the frazzled look? You look like someone has been chasing you.”

“Abby,” he said as he came over. “You’re an O positive, right?” he asked, grabbing her arm.

The girl nodded, her face slightly flushing over the hold he had on her joint. Sebastian didn’t think much of it and immediately pulled her with him without an explanation.

“H-hey! Where are we going?” The purple-haired girl began to panic, but still followed the pace the male ran, keeping up with him easily.

This really wasn’t like him. He wasn’t one to panic. Why was he so energetic and loud today? He hasn’t been like this in....Abigail bit her lip as she thought. ‘In such a long time,’ the voice in her mind responded.

But taking in the sight of the clinic, she knew this wasn’t good. Did something happen to his mom? Did something happen to her family? Did...is this why he asked for her blood type?

She kept rambling all the possibilities until she never realized that they had burst into the clinic. But her thoughts stopped as she saw the new farmer on the hospital bed.

“Abigail!” Harvey called out, surprised that Sebastian knew her blood type. “Thank Yoba your blood is compatible with hers!”

Abigail stopped. Her hand falling limp from Sebastian’s grasp. Tears welled in her eyes.

“(Y/n)...?”

The said girl was laying motionless on the hospital bed, her skin pale as snow. Her eyes closed and breathing shallow. Her hair was out of its usual hairdo, leaving the strands of (h/c) messy around her face and head. Her shirt was removed to expose the the wound to Harvey, leaving on her underwear to preserve her modesty and also exposing the bruise she got from last night.

But the scar on her right shoulder,

It unlocked her self-sealed child memories.

Tears escaped her green eyes. “She’s alive...? After the accident? It’s the same (Y/n)?” she sobbed. Sebastian placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

“It’s her. She came back,” Sebastian said, a somber look crossing his eyes. “And this time, you need to help her.”

Abigail nodded as she stuck out her bare arm to Harvey. “Hook me up,” she said with determination, eyes still dripping with tears.

Abigail and Sebastian was sent to another room as the operation took place as everyone else was sent home since she needed to donate her blood. Sebastian was allowed to stay since he needed to accompany the purple-haired girl. Abigail was given a box of apple juice to help increase her glucose levels as she donated her blood to her former best friend.

Sebastian sat on the chair next to Abigail, is eyes blurred and tired as he looked down at the floor. The silence between them was heavy. Since Abigail had just remembered the dark tragedy of Pelican Town. Tears began to drip from her eyes once more.

“When did you know?” she asked Sebastian, her eyes looking down at the crisp white sheets of the clinic bed. He shrugged. “I...saw her scar, and at first it made no sense to me why I suddenly reacted to it. But then I think I thought of it too much, and...I dreamt of it,”

“No way. Did you like...have a nightmare or something?” Abigail told him, but he shook his head. “It’s not impossible if I woke up and everything rushed to my head in that instant,” he told her. “Plus, mom told me that it was true.”

“No way,” she chuckled. “She really came back, huh? At first I thought it was just...a person with a name that sounded familiar, but I thought it was just a common name. But that’s not the case anymore, it seems,” Abigail said with a smile. “After all we’ve done to her, she still came back here? Not to mention that we’re the ones that caused the accident.”

“It wasn’t you. It was me,” he said with a deep frown. “I really thought that she died, and I never registered what happened after. I even dared forget about her.”

“It’s not forgot. It’s...repressed memories and stuff when we were kids,” Abigail said, referring to one of the books she read during her classes. Sebastian nodded. “Extreme trauma would block out the memories in a way of coping with it.”

“But,” she said, clutching onto the hospital sheets. “It doesn’t make me feel less guilty,” tears collided with the white sheets as a green bow clip was in her sight. “She even gave this bow to me. I can’t believe I still forgot her.”

In normal circumstances, Sebastian would’ve felt awkward, but he understood the feeling. He put a hand on Abigail’s back, running it up and down as he tried to calm her. It was true, however. Knowing that they had forgotten their friend who had saved Sebastian, the person who had always made Fall better, matching their clothes during Spirit’s eve, who brought them little things to enjoy together during their visit,

The guilt was truly unbearable.

After a few hours after Abigail was released, she and Sebastian stayed to wait for the (h/c) haired girl. Both of them wanted to see if she was okay or not. Sam came bustling in soon after. Then Maru came out and gave them the thumbs up, all three of them jumped out of their seats to burst into the room.

“She’s been stabilized, thanks to Sebastian’s quick thinking and Abigail’s generosity,” Harvey said after cleaning all the blood. “She was in a dehydrated state and heavily injured. It was a wonder how she managed the strength to move with those injuries.”

“She’s fine, but she needs to stay here for the night so I can monitor her,” Harvey said again before looking up at the clock. It’s 9 pm. Three hours after Sebastian brought (Y/n) in. “It’s late, you all need to go home.”

“But can we stay with her? I asked mom if I could,” Sam started. “We’re staying just in case she wakes up,” Sebastian butted in, earning an eyebrow raise from Harvey. But the older male just chuckled.

“I suppose it won’t do any harm,” he started, “But please not make any noise before and after she wakes up. It might surprise her and raise her blood levels,” Harvey said before leaving the room with the three and one unconscious girl.

Sebastian turned to look at the girl who looked eerily peaceful, her hands placed above her stomach. Her right hand was attached to an IV drip, and her vitals were steady. Her clothing had changed to a hospital gown, probably not to put any pressure around her waist here the injury was.

“Lets grab a seat,” Sam said, removing the partition between (Y/n) and another hospital bed. “Are we even--” “It’s alright! We’ll put it back tomorrow!” Abigail butted in before helping Sam push the bed together.

“You guys really like her, huh?” Sam started, making the two freeze from what he said. Hasn’t he-- “Oh, I know she’s the same person from the accident,” Sam said as he removed his shoes and sat down on the bed.

“I realized it long ago, actually. When Abigail mentioned it at the Saloon, I just went with it since I thought the both of you actually forgot her,” Sam confessed, leaning against the headrest. “It was hard for me to talk to her, I was the reason she got hit in the first place.”

“But when Abby told me to just talk to her, I realized that you guys probably forgot,” Sam said, bringing his knees closer to his chest. “I remembered when she first came. Mom was careful to never trigger anything, but when she introduced herself to me, I saw the mark on her forehead. I excused myself when everything started coming back to me.”

“It’s hard, to look at her without remembering the hit. I feel like she’s been hating me, never forgiving me,” Sam said. “But when I saw she was rushed in here, I was hesitant. Mom told me to go, but I didn’t want to face her,” Sam looked at the resting girl.

“But she told me (Y/n) came back to see all of us, I bolted,” Sam chuckled as Abigail and Sebastian sat on the same mattress. But tears began to fall from his eyes. “I-I thought she would never want to see me ever again, not after what I’ve done to her,” he sobbed and Abigail slung an arm across his shoulders.

“Never really thought she’d come back,” Sam sniffled before gazing over to (Y/n). “I’m just happy she’s here.”

“Hey, Seb,” Sam called, the dark haired turning his head to face the blonde. “Yeah?” he answered. The latter gave a loopy smile, and even though he just cried, his eyes were bright of mischief.

“Do you still like (Y/n)?” he asked, making the other two freeze in place. Abigail slightly retracted her arm and Sebastian’s shoulders went tense. “Wh-what are you talking about?” he asked.

“You know what I’m talking about. Do you still like--” “Wh-where am I?” a groggy voice spoke, quietly, but loud enough for the trio to jump to the bed next to them.

(E/c) eyes started to open slowly, but squinted from the bright light. There were blobs of shadows in her sight, slowly clearing to reveal the trio before her eyes. All of them had worried expressions, eyes either red or still filled with tears.

“Abby?...Sebastian?...Sam?” the girl choked out as she slowly tried to sit up. “Wh-what happe--” Before she could finish her sentence, she was tackled back down by a force, pinning her back to the mattress. “Abby?”

“You stupid, stupid girl! How dare you get yourself so hurt again?!” she cried, burying her head in (Y/n) shoulder, trying to hide her sniffles as the girl slowly got up again.

Sebastian tackled her left side, wrapping his arms around the (Y/n) and Abigail. “You have no idea how much I panicked when you came out like that!” he shouted in frustration.

“You had us so worried!” Sam said as he hugged (Y/n)’s right side, careful to mind the injury she got. “Never do that again!” he cried out.

“I lost you once, I’m not losing you again!” Abigail cried. (Y/n) looked at Sebastian, her hand slowly coming up to brush his dark locks.

“At least I saw you at 6, right?” she chuckled, earning a glare from the male. He hit her back, harshly before hugging her again. “Yeah, but that’s NOT what I meant!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry guys,” she laughed lightly as they all clung to her.

The next morning rolled around, and when Harvey walked in, he chuckled at the sight. (Y/n) was laying down since her sides hurt to sit up, Sebastian was sleeping sitting up as he held (Y/n)’s left hand in his own. Abigail was cuddling her on her right, clasping her right arm with both of her own. Sam was similar to Sebastian, but had his arms crossed over his chest.

‘These four really have a special bond,’ Harvey thought, smiling to himself. They didn’t look like young adults anymore, but more like children who wont let their friend go.

Of course, Harvey knew that almost all the singles around (Y/n)’s age suffered from Dissociative Amnesia from extreme trauma as children. And (Y/n) herself has been a victim in the accident that caused it. He knew since he saw her medical records and he looked at her nicely healing scars. But the affect strongest was the ones surrounding her. The sisters just haven’t remembered just yet.

7 AM rolled around, and (Y/n) stirred to wake up, pulling those around her away from their dream lands too. Harvey had just left the room to set up his clinic for the day.

Harvey had agreed to let her out, and asked them to keep an eye on the healing girl. Se got 7 stitches and she had to be very careful. Abigail happily volunteered to assist (Y/n) on the farm and Sam and Sebastian would check up on them every so often.

Little did they know, Harvey had taken a photo of the quartet, sending them to their families. Of course, being the lovely mothers they were, they framed the photo and hung it around somewhere in the house.

#stardew-valley-x-reader #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #sebastian (stardew valley)#sebastianxreader #sebastian x reader #reader insert #stardew sebastian #female farmer

159 notes · View notes

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 13

First

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim was in the middle of a particularly boring meeting when a tiny buzz in his pocket alerted him that Marinette had left the house.

He blinked a little and, after mumbling a quick apology, pulled out his phone to silence it.

He couldn’t tell where she was going right then, it was too early to tell, but he noted absently that she was walking a little faster than normal. He shook his head to himself and resolved to check again once the meeting was over.

But he didn’t have to!

His secretary rushed in just as his last business partner left. She looked frazzled. “I tried to keep them out but they insisted and --!”

“Who? What? Janet, what’s wrong --?”

His attention was quickly pulled away from her, though, because Marinette was stumbling through the threshold.

He rushed forward to catch her on instinct, slipping his arms around her tightly. “Bean?”

She pulled her face out of his chest and smiled awkwardly at him. “Uh… hi, darling. Hate to disturb you during work, but...”

Tim frowned, concerned. He didn’t think she was clumsy (and he would have noticed by now if she was) and, now that he was looking, she looked a little pale. Was she sick? Did she even get sick?

And then he noticed someone standing in the doorway she had stumbled through -- no, she had been pushed through it, he thought as he took in the blond’s cold expression. Tim’s frown deepened and his grip tightened on his girlfriend.

Then, the blond sighed. “I’m Adrien, her friend from Paris. Don’t know if she’s told you about me, though.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed just a little. “Janet, it’s my lunchtime, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, looking between the three of them with barely concealed interest.

“Great. Lock the door behind yourself, please.”

Janet seemed a little put out but nodded and went to do what he asked without complaint. He made a mental note to give the poor girl a raise.

He waited until he heard the familiar click of the lock before turning his gaze back onto Adrien. The blond’s scowl had deepened. Tim bit his lip anxiously, considering what deescalation method would be best, but he didn’t know enough yet. He decided to just wait a little longer before doing anything. Marinette was safe in his arms and Adrien was still a little away so there wasn’t any immediate danger as far as he was aware.

“So, you do know his schedule, then?” Adrien asked.

Marinette wouldn’t quite look at the man. “We live in the same house.”

“Did you know before you were living in the same house?” He pressed.

She didn’t answer.

Adrien scoffed a little, shaking his head. “Of course. I knew I should have kept you in Paris where I could see you.”

Well, that’s a little controlling, a tiny part of Tim piped up. He would have said it aloud, too, but there was something bugging him about the blond. He couldn’t place it, but he was pretty sure he recognized him from somewhere...

It clicked and he took a half-step back with Marinette still silent in his arms. “Agreste, right?”

The blond winced. “Dupain-Cheng now,” Adrien said carefully. “In everything but name, at least, I’m still waiting to see if I can get a name change.”

Tim glanced down at Marinette for confirmation and she quirked her lips upward, which was bat for ‘yes’.

He relaxed just a little and let her go now that he knew it was safe. Okay. So, this was just her friend -- no, her brother -- and apparently he was annoyed about something. Their relationship, maybe, since he had brought her to Tim’s work.

… oh, shit, maybe this was Chat Noir. Tim’s eyes flicked down to where the ring usually was in pictures and, yep, that was the same ring but in white. That explained how he’d gotten there quickly despite the fact that he had to be on the no-fly list with a father like that.

But his anger seemed focused on Marinette, which was odd. Tim had figured it would be pretty even.

Tim cracked a grin. “Nice to meet you. You could have just called, though.”

Adrien looked a little sheepish, now, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What I need to tell you isn’t really the kind of thing you can tell someone over the phone.”

“I meant a call for an appointment. You’re my girlfriend’s brother, I obviously would have wanted to meet you in person.”

He snickered. “You’d be the first. Most people don’t want to meet the family for a good long while.”

Tim shrugged. “I would have liked to know when you’d appear. Easier to prepare that way.”

“I see.”

There was a beat as the two men sized each other up before Adrien sighed and leaned back against the door. “I guess it’s easier to show you than explain it to you.”

Tim watched with interest as Adrien pulled an object from his ear and tossed it over. He caught it easily and turned the object in his fingers. It was like his comm but it was red with black polka-dots.

Oh. He knew what this was.

He handed it over to Marinette without even bothering to listen (Who wants to hear their own voice? No one. Ew.).

“Yeah, she listens in on all of my conversations, I know.”

Marinette and Adrien both froze up, then turned their gazes on him in shock. Tim might have laughed if Adrien’s expression didn’t morph into a horrified look.

“You… you know I planted bugs on you?” Asked Marinette tentatively.

“I’ve known since day one -- I think. Or, at least, near day one,” said Tim with a shrug. He pointed over at the flower on his desk, the bug hidden in the petals. “I don’t mind, though, that’s just part of being a vigilante, in my opinion.”

“You’re a --? Nevermind, that’s not the point here.” He sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s not. She does this to all her crushes.”

“I do it to anyone I care about.”

Adrien seemed to think he was insane.

Marinette, however, was nodding vigorously. “See?! I told you! It’s a thing!”

“It’s a thing,” agreed Tim. “Everyone in my family does it, too, though we tend to prefer trackers and following people to auditory bugs…”

“What the heck?” Muttered Adrien.

Tim continued on despite this: “Even Duke does it sometimes, and he’s the closest thing we have to sane, so it’s probably okay.”

Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at nothing for a while, clearly thinking hard about how to approach this. Tikki floated out of Marinette’s purse to go over and pet his hair in an attempt at comfort. It wasn’t working, but at least someone tried. Eventually, he pulled out his phone.

“Stalking: the act or crime of willfully and repeatedly following or harassing another person in circumstances that would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death especially because of express or implied threats.”

“... I haven’t followed or harassed him,” said Marinette.

“And I’m trying to prevent injury or death. Have you met Marinette? Leave her alone for too long and she will find a new way to get herself killed.”

Marinette huffed. “Like you’re any different. I can already count at least three major villains that you regularly piss off and I’ve only lived here a few months.”

“One of the first things you said to any of us was that you had broken your leg but it was fine. I have reason to be concerned.”

Adrien groaned. “We’re getting off topic here, guys. The point is that this is the textbook definition of stalking --.”

“But neither of us feel even a little bit uncomfortable about it,” Marinette argued.

“That would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death. Clearly, neither of you are reasonable.”

Tim shook his head. “That’s not really what the reasonable person clause is for. It’s for people that are trying to get money over nothing.”

“It still applies!”

Tikki shook her head. “Adrien, they’re not going to get it.”

“But they need to.”

“We’re still here, y’know,” said Tim. Marinette waved her arms in the air to see if they had somehow gone invisible.

“They don’t want to,” Tikki explained gently, ignoring them.

Alright, they were going around in circles it seemed and Adrien and Tikki weren’t responding well to their current arguments… so, new arguments were needed. A short recess was called so the two teams could discuss their rebuttals in opposite corners of the room. When had this turned into a debate? Who knows.

They decided to go after morality first (it seemed like the best bet since they were all vigilantes): “Bean, you’re happy, right?”

“Yep. You?”

“Of course. Happier than I was when I was single, that’s for sure.”

Marinette blushed a little and laced her fingers with his. “Great. Me too. Now, Adrien, don’t you want us to be happy?”

Adrien scoffed. “Okay, no, you don’t get to do that. I obviously want you to be happy but I don’t want you to be in an unhealthy relationship. Because that’s what this is: unhealthy.”

“Unusual doesn’t necessarily mean unhealthy,” said Marinette with a frown.

“No, it doesn’t, but… listening in on his private conversations? Following and tracking her? Don’t you think that maybe you should be setting more firm boundaries with each other?”

“... nah,” said Tim.

“How about this: if he crosses a line I’ll tell him.”

“You don’t have lines and that’s the problem!”

Tim shook his head. “Adrien, I can tell you’re trying to help but, really, it’s fine.”

… fine. Time for their last real argument.

“Would you prefer we ‘stalk’ some random civilian?” Asked Tim. “Or you? Don’t you think it’s best we’re together rather than with some person who wouldn’t be able to deal with ‘stalkers’?”

“Sure, but it would be better if you worked on yourselves before getting into relationships,” said Tikki with a sigh.

Marinette groaned. “Gods, this is never going to work. It’s a love language, Adrien, why can’t you just understand that?”

“Love?!” Tim and Adrien said in unison, though the expressions on their faces couldn’t be more different.

“You love me?” Asked Tim.

Marinette’s face flared red. “I -- uh -- um --... yeah…?”

Holy shit, he's won at life.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly.

“It’s only been a few months, what the heck?” Adrien whisper-yelled. They ignored him.

Marinette pulled him down by the front of his shirt for a short kiss. Then, she split into a grin. “I said it first.”

“Not really, I did,” said Tim, smiling fondly.

“No no no I did. I have two witnesses to testify. You said ‘too’, I win.”

“Hm. Nope.”

“You can’t just --!” She huffed. “Stop smiling like that, it's hard to argue with you.”

He only smiled wider. She pouted until he pecked her lips.

Adrien dropped into one of the business chairs and hung his head.

“... I think I made it worse, somehow.”

Tikki patted his hair again.

Adrien ended up accepting them, albeit a little reluctantly. Marinette and Tim were right, after all: it was better that they ‘stalked’ each other rather than some random person who could/would take it worse.

Now, apparently, it was time for the shovel talk.

“Her parents are huge softies so this falls to me. You’d better not hurt her. She may be an idiot and a stalker --”

“Hey!”

“-- but she is still my sister.”

Tim gave a tiny smile. “Yeah, I get it. You’ll kill me if I hurt her and, since you have the power of destruction, there won’t be any way to bring me back.”

“Oh, not quite. I’m going to ‘randomly misplace my ring’ and whatever happens while my ring is ‘missing’ is up to whoever happens to find it. You’d better hope that whatever you did was small enough that Mari would be merciful.”

Tim swallowed thickly. “Ah. I see.”

Adrien smiled a smile worthy of the model that he was and clapped Tim on the back. “Welcome to the family!”

“Yeah… yay…”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you done threatening my boyfriend?”

“No. If she --.” Adrien cut himself off with a laugh at the glare she sent him. “Kidding, kidding. Do you want some of Pere’s food.”

“Obviously. Tim, do you want some?”

Tim hesitated. Marinette tried not to laugh at how carefully he considered the question, as if he thought it was some kind of test and not two people trying to make up for taking up his lunch period.

“... sure?”

“Cool. Macaroons?”

Marinette scowled. “If you get us passionfruit macaroons I swear to the kwamis --.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll implement a systematic takedown of both me and everything I love, I get it. I’ll grab the tea ones you like.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “You have contingencies for your friends? What’s mine?”

“... you do realize you have no powers, right?”

“Can’t believe even my own girlfriend underestimates me --.”

“I could drop an elephant on you and call it a day if I really felt like it.”

Tim paled. “I regret asking.”

Tim was sick the next day. That was kind of on him for forgetting that America has weirdly intense food safety standards, which meant food from other countries would likely mess him up. Also, he had no spleen. Wild that he had forgotten that but, nonetheless, there he was.

He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. How was it possible to feel cold and hot at the same time?

He heard the quiet creak of the floorboards and carefully opened one eye.

Marinette stood at the end of the bed, frown on her face, glass of water and a bowl of soup in each of her hands.

He reached a shaky hand for her and she handed him the water. He grumbled a little but his mouth was pretty dry, so he took it.

Once she was satisfied with his water-drinking, she took a seat beside him with the soup. When he made no move to eat it she rolled her eyes and set it aside temporarily in favor of pulling him on top of her. He smiled and rested his head on her stomach.

“You’re cute when you’re sick, maybe Adrien should bring over Pere’s food more often.”

He frowned. “But... work.”

“Don’t give me more reasons to do it,” she teased lightly.

When he pouted she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. He stopped her with a hand.

“I’m sick.”

“And I’m a meta with an enhanced immune system that wants to kiss her dumbass boyfriend.”

He huffed a little but he didn’t try to stop her when she tried to kiss him a second time. He smiled and buried his face in her stomach, looping his arms around her like she was a pillow.

“How’d you know I was sick?” He asked after a few moments.

She snickered. “Well, I woke up and you were really warm instead of cold.”

“I’m cold?” Tim asked and, despite knowing that it was just a fact, he felt extremely insulted. Damian’s insults had nothing on the fact that his skin was, apparently, cold.

She smiled a little and pet his hair despite the fact that it was probably pretty gross at the moment. “It’s fine. I’m usually pretty warm so it balances out.”

“Awwwww, we reach thermodynamic equilibrium together,” he joked quietly. He let himself sink into her, closing his eyes.

She gave a tiny laugh. “Wow. Romance.”

He smiled. “It is.”

“Hm.” She pet his hair for a few moments longer before pulling them away. “Right, c’mon, get up. I made Alfred teach me to make your favorite kind of soup.”

He blinked an eye open. “Alfred? He knows?”

“Alfred knows everything, I think,” Marinette half-joked. She handed him the bowl and he sat up to eat some. “But I’m pretty sure everyone else at least suspects it, too. I followed all of you bats on Twitter, after all, and I only know a few of you out of costume.”

He nodded his understanding. “So all the secrets are out.”

“Yep. Now I don’t have to worry about accidentally calling people the wrong names when we’re all just hanging out. Still don’t know how you keep it all straight.”

“Nicknames, mostly. Less likely to slip up. Also Dick’s name works for both.”

Her lips twitched. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s why he uses the name Dick.”

“He never answered, y’know, when I said he had a degradation kink. You might be onto something,” he joked.

She grinned now. “I’m always right.”

“Hm. Sure.”

“Glad you agree. Now eat your soup.”

His grin dropped into a pout. “But my stomach hurts.”

“You’re sick, you need your energy to heal. Eat.”

He groaned but reluctantly took the soup when she pushed it into his hands.

She glanced over at the kid that they had taken in. They liked to stick around while Marinette made the food and, if possible, make it herself. She was pretty sure she was checking to make sure they didn’t drug her but Marinette didn’t mind. If it made the kid feel safer then she didn’t see why she wouldn’t allow it.

Now, the kid was mumbling curses in Russian.

She tipped her head to the side. She could chide her about her language but, considering the fact that it was in a language that she couldn’t conceivably understand, she let it go in favor of asking: “What’s wrong?”

“… I can still smell jalapeño on my fingers but my eye itches.”

“Oh.” Marinette handed her a towel. “Alright, Rordan, rub your eye with the side your hand hasn’t touched.”

Rordan wasn’t their actual name, obviously. It was actually Robin (it wasn’t an uncommon name in Gotham or anything, but she and Tim had both had to fight back their amused grins when they had… magically figured it out through completely legal means).

“Yeah, obviously, I’m not stupid.”

She grinned. “I can never be too sure anymore. I’ve cooked with rich kids before and you would be stunned at how little self-preservation instincts they have.”

The kid rolled her eyes. “Can’t be that stupid.”

Tim chose that moment to get off work. He stepped through the door, blinked at the second person in his house, then split into a grin.

“Hey, R...Ronda?” He greeted.

Robin smiled. “Still no.”

“Darn, maybe next time,” he said as if he wasn’t getting it wrong on purpose. He set his scarf on the coat rack and then walked over. “What’s for dinner?”

“For you? A microwaved meal that I’m going to try and pass off as my own cooking.”

Tim huffed. “Bean, come on, it was one time --.”

“And that ‘one time’ is enough to never let you in the kitchen again. C’mon, darling, three steps back.”

Tim groaned but stepped back until he was sitting on the kitchen island.

Robin turned off the burner. “Fajitas are done.”

He pouted playfully. “Can’t believe the kid is allowed to cook and I’m not. I’m an adult!”

“A hazard, that’s what you are,” Marinette teased, smiling. She let Robin set half of the food in her tupperware. “Want to eat with us this time?”

“No thanks.”

Tim nodded. “Alright. See you later?”

Robin glanced back at them from the windowsill. She gave a two finger salute, grinning. “Sure. Bye.”

They watched tiny fingers shut the window behind her before slipping out of view.

She reminded Marinette of an outdoor cat. Kinda just does what she wants and then drops by for food every once in a while; might want affection but probably not, do not approach unless approached; gets in a lot of dumb fights and then comes back with a messed up nose but acts like nothing happened and you’re insane for bringing it up…

Yeah. So, they now have another cat. At least they were both cat people?

Tim grinned as she handed him a plate. “Thanks, Bean. Any progress?”

“Nope,” Marinette said, taking a seat beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. “But she’ll see that we’re safe eventually. I can wait for that.”

He hummed his understanding. “Can’t wait until we make enough progress to be able to eat with her.”

She grinned. “Your bar is too high, darling. It’d be nice if she gave us her actual name.”

“Yeah… I’m still holding out for it, though. She has, what, six years before she is able to legally get a job and won’t need us? We should be able to have food with her once in six years, don’t you think?”

Marinette smiled. “Kwami, I sure hope so.”

Tim rested his head on the windowsill, a tiny frown on his face.

They were on a stakeout. According to Sources there was supposed to be a handoff within the next week.

Marinette sat down beside him and pushed himself up some to send her an awkward grin.

She offered him some Oreos from the packet she held.

There was a long silence as they sat there, listening to the warehouse through their comms. The most interesting thing so far had been the fly buzzing past one of their bugs.

“This feels like cheating,” she said with a sigh.

“I know, right?”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Also you guys’ bugs are better quality than mine and I hate that.”

He snickered. “I can… ‘lose’ some bugs for you if you want.”

“You’d end up ‘losing’ too many.”

He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Not if we put it in my watch.”

“Doesn’t it get stolen every other week?”

“Sure, but B replaces it all the time. Still more sustainable than bugging every item I wear.”

She thought about it for a minute before smiling at him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Marinette sat in a coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee as she tried to explain to Kagami Tsurugi that, no, a full ball gown wasn’t possible in three days and that she should have given more warning. The power in their apartment building had gone out while she was talking to a client and her phone had low power so… nearest coffee shop. There was free wifi, places to plug in her phone, and, of course, coffee.

A glance at the time showed that Tim would be off work in about half an hour. Hm. She went alone. She figured she’d see him there, anyways.

She blinked as a hand tapped her on the shoulder, expecting to see Tim, only to find the friendly barista that had given her her coffee. She whispered to Kagami that she needed to hold and lowered the phone a little.

“Here, ma’am, I’m sorry I forgot this earlier. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Marinette stared at the new drink that had been shoved in her hand. There was some writing on the label.

Dont look now but theres a man watching you.

And an arrow pointing to her right.

Marinette smiled up at the woman. “It’s alright. Thank you.”

The woman didn’t seem all that convinced, so Marinette spun around in her seat. “Darling, you’re being a creep, get over here.”

“I’m not a creep! You were on the phone!” He complained, but he walked over and took a seat across from her.

“Excuses, excuses.”

The poor barista looked so confused.

She sent her a smile. “Thanks for looking out for me.” She handed over a twenty. “For the drink. Keep the change.”

The woman left and Tim pulled out his computer to do some extra work while Marinette finished up her phone call. Then, she smiled at him.

“A random lady found you. You’re off your game.”

He pouted. “I was being obvious on purpose. Wanted to see if you could find me.”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute when you don’t know people are watching you.”

He did little more than raise an eyebrow at her disbelievingly. She grinned and leaned across the table to kiss him on the nose.

After a few second’s thought she pulled out her phone and changed Tim’s name to Spy-derman.

He snickered at the tiny notification, rolling his eyes. “Great.” Then he squinted at the name. “I never asked: why Spiderman?”

She grinned. “Well, the first time we met we met on the roof of a super tall building… but the door was super creaky and loud so all I could imagine was you swinging up there like Spiderman… wait, actually, did you?”

He rolled his eyes again. “You were just too concentrated on your work to hear me.”

“... oh. Well. that’s less fun. I’m choosing to ignore that.” She grinned. “Still can’t believe you called me Frenchie of all things. Did you use all two of your brain cells for that one?”

He gasped as if offended. “It was a reference to that character from The Boys.”

“Of course it was. Fucking nerd.”

He pecked her on the lips. “You love me, though.”

“Hm. Yeah. I do.”

#i almost feel bad for ending it without getting them professional help #but like #they were never going to do that as characters #and there wasn't a natural way to change it #so...#happy?? ending #stalker x stalker #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin

71 notes · View notes

moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby

134 notes · View notes

limenysnocket · 3 years

Text

Attention and Company

I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum

Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.

Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.

A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.

You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.

Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.

That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.

Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.

His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.

"Talk to me..."

God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.

"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.

His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.

"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.

"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."

"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"

"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."

"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.

"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."

"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.

"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.

"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."

He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.

You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.

The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.

As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.

Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.

"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.

"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.

"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.

"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.

"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.

"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.

"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.

"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.

"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.

Now, you wait.

You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.

"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.

Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.

"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.

"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.

"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.

"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."

"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.

"Two, large piña coladas!"

You look up, and so does he.

"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.

"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.

He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.

He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.

"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.

"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.

"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.

"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.

Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.

Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.

"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.

"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.

He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.

"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.

"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.

There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.

"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.

"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.

"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."

Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.

"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"

He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.

It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.

"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.

"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.

Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.

His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.

Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.

"I love you too," you whisper.

"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.

"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.

#taika waititi #taika waititi x reader #fanfiction #taika waititi imagine #taika waititi imagines #taika waititi x you #taika waititi/you #fluffy

77 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 4 years

Text

A Lesson Learned (E.D) Part 1.

Summary: Ethan’s job as a teacher is to give his students the best education that he can. But when Y/n, a student that has caught his eye a time or two, catches him by surprise in his classroom during lunch, he’s unable to hold back the fire that was sure to break free at some point.

Word Count: 8.1k

Warning: Rough sex between student and teacher. You're welcome.

Ethan wasn't stupid. He knew that the girls in his class snickered and swooned over him from the minute they walk through that classroom door, to the very moment they left. That’s why he had a set of rules. They were simple, but very clear and strongly advised. 1. No consults or help during lunch 2. No help after school, under any circumstances. It was just too risky. It wasn't that he was worried he would slip up, it was just that the girls in his class were very bold with their advancements towards him and he was concerned it would get too out of hand if he allowed them to come in whenever they wanted for “help.” Because help was never really help with them. However; he did give the students an option to come in during a free period, where teachers flittered through the halls and his door was always open. He has yet to see any of the girls take him up on that offer, except maybe one of two that don’t really need the help.

He had three classes, Seniors, Juniors, and Freshmen. All Composition and Reading. They were all pretty much the same, just a slight curriculum change to make it harder for each grade as he saw fit. The girls in his Senior class were the worst with their flirtatious behavior, so bad sometimes that he’s had to call them out or send them to the principals office - feigning that he’s concerned they won't be able to focus enough in his class because of their small crush. It was a serious problem - some even slipped him their number when handing in their papers or passing notes on purpose during class because they knew he would take them away if they were caught. He’s never used them of course, simply throws them in the trash with a shake of his head. He wasn't meaning to be cocky about it, it just made him a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, some girls still hadn't gotten the memo.

But he was still surprised when he heard the light tapping on the closed door, small shadows of feet appearing against the tiled floor just outside. He understood that it was nearing the end of the semester and the students might be panicking a bit too hard over their studies, he’s been there a time or two during high school and college. But his rules were set in place for a reason. He figured it was better to make the rule for everyone rather than show “favorites”. He knew some of the students would probably love the extra study time, but he just couldn't take the chance. The lunch rule wasn't even his decision quite frankly, it was also a school rule that you must reside in either the lunch room, football field, or atrium during lunch hours - no sneaking off on your own agenda without a valid reason. Coming to his classroom wasn't really a valid reason. Yes, some students slipped past the radar, but it wasn't often. Girls were sneaky, and being one of the only males in an all girls school, he started to learn their little tricks.

He sat still behind his desk, eyes glued to the stand still shadow behind the aquatex glass window of the door. A frown stretched across his face as he wondered who it could be, the place was normally deserted and quiet during lunch break - a good 45-60 minutes of absolute silence. Depended on the day. He wondered briefly who it was and what they wanted. Even though the knock was quiet, it nearly scared him - that’s how unusual sound was at this time of day. He was sure he could blast his music as loud as he could and no one would be able to hear. He didn’t of course, it would disrupt his concentration.

It bothered Ethan sometimes that he had such a close eye on him at all times. Just because he was young, with a tall, sturdy frame, thick hair, strong jawline, plump pink lips, and a naturally prominent bulge that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. There were always eyes watching his every move. No, he wasn't the type to flaunt his sex appeal. He didn't like that he was watched like a hawk because he was “hot”. He knew he was watched, knew the women lusted after him, but he kept himself in check. He also knew he was attractive, confident, and had a charm that could sway any girl to be on their knees within seconds. He’d used it quite a few times in college. But as far as he was concerned, he was at the school to teach Composition and Reading - not to stare at girls in their tiny skirts or at their shirts that they refused to button the way they should. He wasn't here for that, plus half of the girls were underage anyway. That and it was just simply wrong. Strictly against the rules.

And it wasn't just the students that would throw themselves at him - but the female staff as well. That made the eyes on him even heavier, as if someone higher up was just waiting for him to slip up, take the bait and get himself into a mess he’s sure he’d never get out of. Because of the close watch on him, he would try and escape from the prying eyes of his co-workers during his lunch break just to sit by himself and get much needed work done that he might not have time for at home or during the day. He liked that this was his alone time without anyone bothering his concentration. He actually thought it was one of the crucial parts of his school day.

He got enough sex to satisfy his needs elsewhere anyhow, not much, but enough. It slowed down after he had a small fling with a female teacher when he first arrived at the school - but it ended as quickly as it started. He fucked her twice and then she turned obsessive and he had to end it in the kindest way he could. He didn't have the energy for the “coworker against coworker” fiasco that would surely start if the word got out that he rejected her after they’d had sex. It would sound dishonorable to everyone that didn't understand the situation. But other than that, it was women he took interest in that were friends of friends, even some women he’s hooked up with before. It wasn't like when he was in college - he was kind of a sex crazy beast in his younger years. That hasn't changed, he just didn't have as much opportunity. Though since he wasn't really meeting anyone at school, he wasn't making it a point to go and find a random female to fuck. Just wasn't his forte. But he liked to believe he got enough. Enough to keep him from going insane.

He sighed softly, not all that happy about being interrupted, but not wanting to ignore whoever it was and be rude. He set his blue inked pen down, stopped the soft music playing from his phone, and pushed the hair back on his head neatly. He noticed that on many occasions it gets quite frazzled from him tugging on it when he was bored or frustrated. He wondered for a moment if it was just another teacher wanting to come and sit with him for some company, but that didn't sound appealing for him if he’s honest. He wanted to be alone and most of the teachers knew that. He cleared his throat, just to assure the person who was waiting that he was inside, before he finally spoke out calmly, but with enough volume that whoever it was could hear him, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly, slowly enough that he just knew it wasn't a teacher. Teachers opened the door with purpose, not a hint of shyness in sight. Students were always the ones that opened the door like it weighed 100 pounds. That thought in mind, he wasn't really surprised that he was right. But he was surprised to see the familiar face of one of his best students. He recognized her beautiful face immediately as she appeared slowly from behind the door. Blushing cheeks and all.

She stood almost nervous with her snug white blouse and grey plaid skirt. A dull outfit for such a bright girl. But it wasn't her fault she had to wear a uniform. He knew what the girls had to wear and he knew she was a little older than the rest of the girls in her class. She was in his Senior class he remembered. She was ravishing. Utterly fucking gorgeous and he couldn't deny it. Ethan tried his hardest not to look down her body. But he found himself holding back more than he thought was normal. She was normally very shy, sat in the back, had her head low during class, fiddled with her pen a lot. She had cute quirks that he caught onto early in the year. She was always the first to hand in her paper, and it was always excellent, had neat handwriting and wonderful thoughts - but she refused to participate in class discussions. He never thought anything of her silence, so he thought it was strange that she would come to his class unannounced and during a time she wasn't allowed. He knew she knew the rules that had been set in place for all four years and even before that.

She took a step inside the room, hands toying with the white bottom button of her blouse. A small smile rushed to her face at the sight of his eyes lingering on her patiently.

“Can I help you?” He ushered her forward, earning him a small nod and the view of her turning around the shut the door softly behind her. He took note that she twisted the lock quickly, secretively. His eyes flickered with confusion at her actions, but he shook his head to rid the look before she turned back around and took a step closer to him with a nervous huff from her rosy lips. If he looked closer, he might see her visibly shaking.

“You know I don’t usually offer help during lunch,” he explained, knowing she knew, but making it clear that she was breaking the rules. He felt bad for a moment that he sounded so harsh and cold. He was unsure why she was even here, she was the top of her class - she’d always had a steady A in the class - and every other class he’s sure. Surely she didn't really need the help.

“I know Mr. Dolan I’m sorry, I just need a little bit of help,” she finally spoke, doe eyes blinking a few times at him, showing off her long lashes. He saw that her pupils were dilated but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to make any assumptions that weren't true.

“You can come back 5th hour if you’d like, I don't really have the time during lunch...Y/n right?” He pondered, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest while he stared her down. God she was beautiful.

“Uh yeah.” A sweet smile makes it’s way to her face, along with a pinky blush. She rocks back and forth on her heels, a nervous habit he’s noticed a few times this year. She doesn't ask many questions, but when she does she always falls into that habit. She just never knew what to do with herself when it came to him.

“Well, Y/n just come back in a few hours with any questions you have and we can go from there, sound good?” The way she’s making his heart race is making him sweat, his hand coming up to loosen the tie from around his neck. He felt like he might choke if she kept batting her eyelashes at him like that.

“You don’t even have a second to listen?” she simpered, dipping her head to the side and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. There was a glimmer in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before, it had him clearing his throat once more. He really wanted to cut her some slack, just feeling the nerves radiating off of her was making him nervous now. The way she’d said it made it seem like she came to talk to him about a personal problem, and that alone had him tensing up from his neck to his shoulders. He’s not really all that good with personal problems, hell he’s not even good with his own. Plus if this is true, he doesn't know why in the hell she would go to him and not any of the many female teachers in the building who were far more equipped to help.

“I really don't mean to be bothering you, I can see your really busy. I’m just kind of nervous about my grades and with finals coming up I’m getting in my head about all of the work...” she carries on, resulting to chewing on her bottom lip to ease the nerves coursing through her.

“There’s really nothing to worry about, Y/n. You’ve always excelled in this class and I’m sure the final won’t be any different. I can assure you that you’ll find it easy. I can give you extra study material if you’d like, just to freshen up.” He really was trying to pacify her, not knowing exactly what to say to someone that was so nervous about a class that was clearly so easy for them. Not only that but she kept chewing on her fucking lip and it was driving him mad. She wouldn't even meet his eyes, seemingly making it worse for him.

“Honestly...that’s not really my problem,” she admitted with a sigh while she stepped the tiniest bit closer, noticing his eyes flicker down to where her silky smooth thighs rubbed together while she walked, “I kind of need some personal advice, sir. It’ll only take a second.”

The look she was giving him from under her long lashes was void of any of the shyness he’d seen moments before, no. This time he could see something devious and lustful pooling in her dilated pupils. She watched him closely as a look of confusion took over his handsome features once again. He chose to ignore the fact that she was now standing directly in front of his desk, keeping his eyes trained solely on her face and nowhere else.

“I think a female teacher would be better fit to counsel you with a personal problem, miss Y/l/n. I’m afraid I wouldn't be too much help,” he smiled softly at her, eyes full of sympathy. So handsome. “But I do advise you to get back to lunch before an administrator finds you in here. I don’t think they’d be too happy about seeing a student roaming the halls when it’s such a nice day outside.”

“Sir, I don't think you understand,” she rushes, “I really need your help. I came to you for a reason.”

He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips quickly, but he noticed nonetheless. He notices a lot of the things she does.

“Is it serious? If it’s serious you should see the principal. But you really should get back to lunch, Y/n,” he urges on before she has a chance to answer, “You may come back 5th hour if you’d like. I’ll have more time to talk. But it’s best if you get back to your friends.” He’s nervous about how close her body is, breath turning shallow from the sweet smell of her perfume.

Her brows dip down as she huffs, frustrated that he’s not catching onto her obvious flirting - and if he is, that he’s not giving her anything to work with. Ethan sits upright just as she rounds his desk, the toe of her shoe pressing against the wheel to roll the chair back further. He stays still, staring up at her looming frame over him, too shocked to do anything else. If he was expecting anything from her, it definitely wasn't that. He feels the soft tips of her hair rubbing against his cheekbone just as she swings her leg over his exposed lap, fitting to him snug. She’s straddling him, clothed core pressed right up against his bulge. Her skirt was bunched up over her thighs, smooth skin exposed for him to touch if he wished.

“You see the thing is...none of the female teachers have what I want...what I need,” she whispers, staring into his hazel eyes that gawk at her twirling his tie between her fingers. Her tone is suggestive, seductive, everything it shouldn't be towards her teacher.

“Miss Y/l/n, this is extremely inappropriate,” he grunts, wanting to push her off of his lap in shock, but instead raising his hands so he’s not touching her at all. If someone tries to come in he doesn't want them to see his hands even near her body that fits with his so...perfectly. No he needs to focus.

“I’m just really stressed and anxious sir,” she whispers again, running her hands down his front and noticing how firm he was beneath the material of his dress shirt. She sighs as her pussy clenches at the thought of what resides beneath, “I haven't had sex in months which is far too long. I just need to be fucked right.”

“Y/n get off. This is against the rules and you shouldn't be here,” he spoke sternly, as much as he could through his voice shaking. He expected her to look hurt, maybe even offended at him rejecting her in such an embarrassing way, but he only saw a smirk.

“Mr. Dolan I need a man,” she hummed, “a man that will fuck me nice and hard. I need you Mr. Dolan. I need you to fuck me.” She popped her lip out into a pout, still running her hands up and down his chest until she hooked her arms around his neck and leaned in close to his lips. If he just leaned forward a bit they would be kissing.

He really didn't expect for this normally quiet and shy girl on top of him to be so bold. He had never seen her like this and never thought in a million years these words would be tumbling from her mouth. He gasps quickly when she reaches down to tug at his belt buckle, staring down with a hungry look on her face, eye fucking him.

This had never happened before and he wasn't really sure what to do. Normally the advances from the girls were subtle and harmless, but this was...this was dangerous in many ways. To say his morals were floating around in his head in a jumbled mess because he can feel the heat from her pussy against his dick is an understatement. He wanted it but he didn't want to want it. He grabbed onto her wrist in an attempt to stop her, watching her pout return to her face at the fact that he tried to stop her.

“I’m well aware of your intentions Y/n. But this is wrong. I will not have sex with a student. No if, ands, or buts. Now leave and I promise we won’t ever have to talk about it again. I won’t tell anyone about this.” He meant it too. He didn't want a single person knowing that his student was sitting pretty on his lap in her...sexy uniform that wouldn't be sexy on anyone else but her if he’s being honest, “But I want you to get off my lap right now.”

She sat for a moment, just staring at him to gauge his reaction before she slowly let go of his belt, looking as if she’d admitted defeat. “Okay...I’m sorry I broke the rules, sir.” But just as it had before, that same sensual grin came onto her face, sending a nice thumping from his heart through his chest once again as she said, “I’m so sorry that I've been a bad girl.”

She slid her hips forward and back again repeatedly, not stopping even when his breathing stopped short and she felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips. She grabbed into the collar of his shirt, using it for something to hold onto as she rolled her hips into his, making it unbearable for him to stay in line. He watched in awe while she untucked her shirt from the waistband of her skirt, pulling it out and slowly undoing the buttons, one by one until she revealed the soft pink of her bra and the curves of her hips. She was breathtaking and he couldn't deny that if he wanted to. She pushed her core harder against his slacks, loving the pressure it put against her clit. His eyes traveled down the expanse of her body to where their hips met, feeling like he might pass out if she doesn't stop now.

If he’s honest, he’s wanted this for quite some time. She’s just...something else. He’s caught himself staring at her longer than he should in lectures and she doesn't know it but he can see right up her skirt when she sits at her desk, his eyes drifting down far too often from his own desk. But he would never imagine himself acting on anything. The consequences that would follow if anyone ever caught him kissing her like he desired to, were scary to say the least. But he wanted to so bad. That thought had him gulping while he looked at her all spread out on his lap and grinding herself against him. Her head was resting against her shoulder, a blissed out look on her face while she rolled over his clothed dick, the skin of her thighs causing a rubbing sound that he didn't mind much.

He was suddenly happy for a split second that she locked the door, even though he knew someone would be able to see the shadow through the glass window if they looked hard enough. He also know that the administrators and janitors had a key to his door and would surely use it if they had any indication something insubordinate was going on inside. It had him all jittery the think that someone could catch them even if he hasn't touched her...yet. He hated the fact that he was tempted, he was so tempted to fuck her senseless that it almost killed him to not have his hands dipping into her sides and roll her harder against him.

His cheeks were heating up fast by the quiet moan that emits from her lips, soft and angelic. He knows that if he lets it slide they will only get louder and he doesn't want a single soul to hear. He knows that the building is deserted, but just the thought of someone hearing her sounds is terrifying and sends a panic through him, causing a hand to fly up and cover her mouth, the other to wrap around her throat lightly. It was the first time he’s touched her and he felt like his hands were on fire just by touching her skin. He was going to hell.

She stared at him over his hands, breathing out through her nose and waiting for him to explain why he’d shushed her so frantically. He looks mad. And he is. He’s fucking pissed off that he wants her so bad and that he’s so hard beneath her he’s worried he’s leaking precum. He’s mad that she’s put him in a position that has his brain so out of order that he can't think of anything else but ramming his dick into her against his desk. He’s mad that he’s never wanted to fuck someone so bad in his life and he’s mad that she has to be his student. He’s mad because he wants her, and not just right now, but always and it’s driving him crazy.

“Don’t you realize what will happen if I fuck you, Y/n? Do you fucking know?” He seethed, a hand reaching to grip at her ass deliciously, leaving a smack against the flesh and feeling it jiggle in his hands. She jumps away from his hand against her mouth from the contact, surprised that he made such a risky move when he’s been frozen like a statue the whole time.

“You’ll cum...I’ll cum...we’ll have mind blowing sex,” she answers calmly, so sure it makes him more mad because he’s certain she’s right.

“Wrong. I’ll get fired. I will be out on my ass before I can even blink,” he snapped, “I will lose everything. We will both be in a fuck ton of trouble, including you...then you’ll really be stressed won’t you kitten?” he hums, a smirk plastered onto his face as he leans in to ghost his lips over her own, testing the line before stepping over it. She’s pouting agains, wanting him to kiss her and show her what he’s really thinking because this denial is bullshit and she can tell he wants it. She can tell from his hard-on that’s pressing against her right now.

She nods, not wanting him to deny her but still understanding why he’s so scared to want it. But Ethan takes her by surprise when he places both hands under her ass and lifts her up like a feather. She clutches his biceps tightly from his sudden movements, clinging onto him just until he sets her on the edge of his desk. He had one hand buried in her hair, making a fist and pulling.

“So I’m gonna need you to keep that pretty mouth closed okay?” he growled, sinister glare set straight into her eyes. He was serious. No games here. He was holding back a smile at the giggle she let out next, overjoyed when he spread her legs wider. She’s keeping herself up on her elbows, grinning up at his handsome face, tempted to pull him down by his tie for a kiss. But he still hasn't gotten an answer.

He grips her chin angrily, making sure she’s looking right into his hazel eyes, “Am I understood?” So stern. She knew that he was trying to assert himself, make sure she knew he was in the position of power. But he had nothing to worry about when it came to her, that’s all she wants right now. To have him take control and use her in the best way.

“Yeah, daddy,” she simpered once again, a tiny pout on her face. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock in an instant. He’s never been called that before but something about the way she said it had him addicted already, “I promise I’ll keep you a secret, I promise I won’t tell,” she carried on, dragging a finger across his sharp jawline, leaning up just enough to leave a peck against the skin of his neck. When she leaned back, she was biting her bottom lip again.

He couldn't think about how wrong this was. He couldn't think about the fact that he was possibly taking advantage of her when he was adult and was the one responsible for saying no. So instead of thinking he pulled her to the edge of the desk, tugging harshly on her plaid skirt. She sat in her matching baby pink panties, so delicate for such a dirty girl. He took the time to dip his hand down, cupping her heat and rubbing slowly, torturing her like she’d tortured him for so long. He only toyed with her for a moment longer before ripping her bra off, panties off as well, he groaned from deep in his chest as the sight of her dripping core.

He wanted to take it slow, feel every curve of her body, every inch of her skin - but considering his compromising position he needed to make it fast. He couldn't waste time. He needed to fuck her hard and fast like she wanted and get it out of his system because it’s eating him alive. He didn't have the time to caress her and kiss her tenderly. He just couldn't take the time right now. The thought of someone coming to knock on the door while he had her splayed out wide and wet on his desk was something that chilled him to the bone.

He paused for just a second so that the rapid thoughts in his head could quiet down and let him focus: What if she’s underage? What if someone comes? This is so wrong. You’re gonna get fired. But how could he ever say no?

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts and overthinking the entire situation, he chose not to think at all - let his instincts take in. He quickly grasped the cold metal of his belt buckle, peeling it from his belt loops on his slacks and pushing them all the way down his legs and to the side. He watched her gazing at him dreamily, so focused on his large hands pulling his massive length out for her to see, sitting so deliciously in his palm. She licked her lips when she noticed the tip was the same reddish pink as his freshly kissed lips. He tossed his underwear into the pile of clothes on the floor beside the desk, forgotten. He leaned over her, taking another second to land his lips on hers once again, tasting her chapstick and feeling his heart warm at the way she leans back up when he tries to pull away, sighing into his mouth.

When he breaks free he’s grabbing at himself to rub the head of his cock up and down her wet opening. Ethan teased her slowly, tapping at her clit just to hear her gasp and jump beneath his touch. She clenches with a wince when he tries to push in slowly, never has she been with anyone this big and she hope he understood from the whimper that slipped out. He gave her a soft smile, rubbing his hand over her soft thigh in understanding, making sure that when he tries again he takes his time.

He has to stop halfway, throwing his head back from the way she grips him so tight, overwhelmed. Y/n grips his arms, bracing herself for him to sink all the way inside of her. He captures her lips with his own as he rammed his cock into her time and time again, relishing in the warm tight wetness of her pussy that he’s not stopped thinking about since she unknowingly opened her legs from beneath her desk months ago and he caught sight of heaven on earth. His hips met hers with a harsh smack, loud enough to be heard from outside the door, but a delicious sound to his ears anyway. Ethan was over the moon, buried deep into the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, who happened to be none other than his student. He breathed hard when his gaze went from her bright eyes down to her chest that rose and fell rapidly, down to where he disappeared inside of her heat.

Y/n couldn't hardly breathe just looking at his body so firm above her, tie swinging with every thrust of his hips, buttons undone at the top of his shirt. She was tempted to shut her eyes simply from the pleasure and euphoria that took over her every nerve, but refrained when she saw the blissed out look on his face she’d only ever seen in her dreams.

She had envisioned this exact moment so many times within her daydreams, scribbling mindlessly while she watched him talk about nonsense in front of the class, scanning her eyes over his front the best that she could when he wasn't looking. It was maddening to want his cock so bad. She’d dreamt about being fucked against this very desk. She’d woken up in a sweaty gasping frenzy from the vivid image of what she is seeing right now. But this time it was real and she was being fucked on his desk. The grunts and groans emitting from his mouth weren't a figment of her imagination any longer. He was ramming into her shaking body so hard that the pens near her head were knocked to the floor with a clatter, binders falling, papers flicking off the wood and to the ground silently. But he paid no attention to the racket, only her loud breathing and gushing sounds coming from where he did his best to ruin her.

A spark of anger arose from deep within his chest when he looks up to find her grinning at him, a gloating sneaky little glare that reads “you love this and you know it.” It made him angry because she did this, she walked in here everyday in her short she knew was too short, she came and sought him out, made him weak, made him want her. With an angry “fuck” Ethan’s wrapping one hand around her throat - not too tight, but tight enough to make a point and grumbling low, “You knew what you were doing didn't you?”

She grabs at his wrist, hand fumbling with his fingers for a second, just feeling at them lightly with a smile, nodding her head and batting her eyelashes. She could feel her thighs shaking and tightening around his waist, her heels pushing into his thighs to push him into her harder.

“Such a fucking slut...is this what you wanted?” he continues to growl from within his throat, hard staring her with dark, lust-filled eyes.

“Y-yes,” she gasped, a strangled sound coming from her throat from the pressure of his hand around her airway, “fuck me harder daddy please. Love it so much.”

Ethan had become hot and sweaty quickly, a patch forming on the front of his shirt from where he’d soaked through, enough to have him yanking at his tie and hastily removing it from around his neck. He suddenly felt very large in a shirt that normally fits so well, but then again he was never pushing against the buttons and railing a beautiful girl into his desk, so that might be a factor to think about.

“Fuckin’ hot in here,” he grumbled to himself as he unbuttoned his blazer all the way down, feeling the cool air touch his chest for the first time and sighing at how good it felt. He still hasn't stilled his hips, his rhythm even and steady. It impressed her that he had a will to keep going to matter what and she just knew that even if someone did knock on that door - he wouldn't stop. He would finish what he started. But looking at his bare torso that showed under the unbuttoned shirt still had her breathless and swooning. She hadn't expected him to take his clothes off, too worried about how fast he needed to be for obvious reasons. But she wasn't complaining by any means.

The slither of tan skin that she could see had her whimpering and throwing her head back on the desk, nails reaching beneath the flailing fabric to rake her nails down the smooth surface - over every bump and ridge. She forced herself to open her eyes and appreciate the way his abs flexed with every thrust into her, the way his eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, the way he bit at his bottom lip and watched her closely. She hardly expected him to grip at the back of her neck to pull her up just enough to bury his face in the skin of her neck - kissing fiercely. His teeth dug in in the most delicious way, sucking on the sore spots and admiring the dark purple that was left behind from his assault. They would be nearly impossible to cover, and that made him proud. With a grin he gripped her hips tight, ramming himself into her harder still, chuckling at the bright red of her skin from his hips pounding into her own. If she wanted rough, rough was what she was going to get.

“Yessss daddy right there right there right there-” she screeched so loud he was sure the entire city would be able to hear. But he didn't have the heart to stop her. He craved to hear that desperate howl, frantic and scared he was going to stop hitting that sweet spot that drove her to madness. Well, he wouldn't dream of it.

“You like that spot kitten? Hm? Right here?” he mocked, pushing a hand down on her tummy and driving into her deep, stilling before pulling out all the way, and slamming right back in.

She whimpered pathetically, throwing her head back and trying to crawl away from how deep he was. She’s sure that if she didn't want to look tough, she would be crying right now. But she just wanted to be good for him.

When he offered two fingers for her to suck on, she greedily opened her mouth, tongue out, flicking around the digits while they settled against the flesh. Her eyes trained on his own menacing hazel ones while she sucked, letting him gag her if he pleased, adoring the way she felt so full in not one but two places. The tears brimmed in her eyes while he pushed his fingers to the back of her throat, fucking her mouth with his hand and loving the gagging sound she gave him.

“God look at you taking me so well...sucking daddy’s fingers like the good girl you are...so pretty,” he whispered, almost to himself with how low the volume of his voice was. But she heard, and it still made her feel good. The ball inside of her started to grow bigger the more he pushed into her, the harder he pounding, the more he gagged her, the more he praised and degraded her all at once. It was all too much and if he kept going she would have no choice but to let the fire consume her.

She bucked her hip up, taking notice of the sound of crumpling paper underneath her and giggling when she remembered it was probably papers he was grading from before. If only they knew. If only they could see the way their teacher fucked her raw and wild on his desk, fingers dipping into her skin, groaning low and dark into her ear, smashing his lips against hers like he really meant it. Did he really mean it? If only they could know that the crumple of the papers he was going to hand back would be from their sexual escapade happening right now. It all made her head spin in the best way.

Her screaming only rose in volume, his eyes widening and a hand rising to cover her opened mouth. He gave her a brilliant smile, but a warning still lingered in his eyes that looked down on her. “Shhh baby,” he shushed her, feeling her giggle behind his hand, her eyes shining at him innocently. But he knew so much different. He pulled his hand away only to lift her from the desk once more, shuffling her weight up his body, loving the way she fit him so perfectly. He held her in his arms, her own circling around his neck and kissing at his cheekbones lovingly.

Ethan was still buried to the hilt, so deep in her pussy, so warm. He took her ass into his hands and bounced her up and down on his muscular body, smacking her body down onto his own and sucking at her nipples while she moaned repeatedly above him.

Y/n hooks her ankles behind his waist, bucking her hips against his because she just couldn't get enough. He was addicting. She adored the way he gazed at her, sucked at her tits, treated her pussy like gold, kissed her like there was this passion he’s waited to set free for so long, adored the way he did a complete 180 from a professional that was scared to let loose, to a fuck machine that broke her apart with his dick. She moaned hungrily while she looked down at him suckling on her left breast, her bud rolling against his skilled tongue. She wondered for a moment what it would feel like on her pussy, wondered if it’s everything she imagined it would be. She had no doubts she was right.

“How do I feel baby? Is daddy doing a good job?” he growls, looking for the reassurance he honestly didn't need. He knew he was doing amazing by the shaking in her thighs in his hands. But he still wanted to hear her filthy little mouth say it.

“So good daddy, doing so good,” she emphasized every word, whimpering and moaning and gasping like a complete mess that she is. She would be okay if she finished like this, with him holding her like she doesn't weigh a pound, ramming her down onto his cock hard and fast and unbelievably easy. And she nearly complains when he starts to back up and tumble into the desk chair. It rolls slightly under the pairs weight.

He wraps her lips within a tender kiss once again, breaking free with a sharp intake. “Ride me kitten,” he grunted, continuing to kneed the flesh of her ass in his hands. He doesn't know why he’s doing it, but he knows he likes doing it. And he knows she likes him doing it by the content smile stretched across her face.

She nodded at his demand, situating herself against his lap to find leverage before she started to bounce with purpose.

She continued to sink down, wiggling her hips just to tease him when she felt the small tickle of the tuft of hair near his belly button. She was clenching, grinding, genuinely throwing it back on him in a way he’s never seen before, and he doesn't think after this he’ll be able to keep himself in check.

She moaned in his ear just by the feeling of his large hands caressing up her back and down to her ass to leave a harsh slap, surely leaving a lovely red splotch behind. He found the strength to raise his head from her tits, tightening his grip on her ass and moaning softly at how good she felt, “Such a good girl for me. Ride my fuckin dick, yeah that’s it. Make me cum, baby. Be good and make daddy proud of you. Make me cum.”

Ethan could feel his orgasm coming in strong, racing through him fast. He sat back in the chair, closing his eyes and really feeling all of her walls contract around his shaft and hug him so tight. He breathed out hard through his nose, trying to decide whether he would have the strength to hold it if he opened his eyes again.

Y/n grinned at his struggle, bouncing faster and faster, moaning louder and longer. His jaw clenched with every swear word that tumbled from her rosy lips, reminding her of just how handsome he was. When she let go around him, her juices spraying out against the tan skin of his thighs, he thought he might lose it at the sight. She was writhing and dragging her nails down his arms, scratching at his skin.

“Fuuuckkkkk oh my fucking God that’s so...oh my fucking God right there,” she screeching louder than ever before, shocked that she hasn't felt him release into her yet.

The heat that had just erupted inside of her was unlike anything she’d felt before. Certainly one of the hardest if not the best orgasms she’s ever had. He gave her a cocky grin when he smacked his hand down onto her ass one final time before lifting her away. He couldn't risk cumming in her and her not be on birth control considering he hadn't used a condom for obvious reasons.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered her hotly, voice low and stern. She dropped to the ground with wobbly knees and a racing heart, her pussy clenching around nothing in particular now that she was empty. She still felt herself dripping in arousal against the floor beneath her, knowing she will most likely have to go home and change after this and feign illness. The soreness in her limbs already tells her walking won’t be the best option for the rest of the day.

She took him gently into her hand, wrapping her plump lips around his swollen head to suckle and kiss it gently. She wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to look at her with pleading eyes and a panic in him that she won’t let him cum. When she removes her lips, she receives that very same look, begging without actually saying a word. So licks up the underside of him, a slow, hot stroke of her tongue. Messy and filled with saliva. He watched her carefully, resting a hand within her hair as she enveloped him in her wet mouth. He thought he might pass out when she pushed him all the way inside her mouth, deepthroating him with tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She took it like she was forced, even though he had simply rested his head back and let her work at him. It was all too much. She started to pump what she didn't have in her mouth, feeling him twitch against her tongue and buck his hips up randomly, gagging her.

“Y/n I’m gonna-” he’s cut short with a long breath from his nose, clenching his jaw tight while he finished down her throat in long hot spurts. She was clenching her eyes shut and taking it like the good girl she was, swallowing every drop he gave her. It surprised her that it was sweeter than she thought, all thoughts of the liquid being bitter now gone. He continued to groan above her, sensitive and wincing from her hand that kept pumping him. She knew he was completely finished, she removed him from her mouth with a pop and an angelic smile, kissing his tip one last time.

He was frozen in his chair, frozen and shocked and fucked out and scared. Scared because he’s never cum that hard in his life ever. Shocked because he didn't want her to go. Frozen because she was rising her feet already, giggling while she gathered her clothing from the ground and got dressed in quick motions. He couldn't even find it in himself to move from how hard he’d just orgasmed.

He watched her calmly, arms dangling over the arms of the chair, limp and lifeless, dick laying against his belly. He smiled softly when she leaned down to leave a breathless kiss on his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw while she held his face gently. “Thank you daddy,” she whispered, kissing his jaw just one more time before she leaned back to send him a wink, “I promise I won’t tell.”

Ethan sat still while she pulled her panties up her legs, then her skirt, before buttoning her blouse and tucking it in to try and look the same as she did when she walked through the door. His head spun at the swivel of her hips as she tugged up the skirt, knowing if he had more time he’d fuck her again. She grabbed her bag from the floor, swung it over her shoulder and looked back at him with a grin, raising her hand to wave at him just as she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, leaving him alone. The door closed with a click, normally it was quiet, but now that the moans and slapping of skin were absent, it sounded deafening.

He looked across his destroyed desk, papers strewn every which direction, pens on the floor, papers wet from her juices, seeing it in a totally new light than he had moments before. He scooped the pens from the ground, then the runaway papers, then his clothing that he had ripped from his body in a moment of weakness. That’s what it was right? A moment of absolute weakness that can never ever happen again.

It was just a moment that will be erased in history, never spoken about. He tried cleaning his desk up as neatly as possible, trying not to worry about the fact that he was naked, that is, until the bell rang and panic set in.

He fucked a student. He actually fucked her. He didn't just have sex with her but he fucked her. He’s naked right now, in his classroom, cleaning up the desk that he fucked her on. He’s going to have to teach after this. He’s going to have to care about teaching her classmates after this. He’s going to have to think of her pussy now when he jerks off. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she just rode him in his chair like a dirty little slut. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she’d called him daddy. He’s going to have to forget that he wants to do it again.

“Fuck.”

tags: @dolandolll @stayalivw

3K notes · View notes

chipper-smol · 3 years

Text

Vanilla 1 Chain

Prompt: The Aftermath of Ghost banishing the Grimm Troupe from the Troupe’s perspective.

lAST ONE!

( https://twitter.com/BerryCannibal )

Grimm let out a hum as he danced with himself, going through yet another imaginary routine as he allowed his thoughts to drift. The tent was unusually quiet without Brumm around - he was still surprised that his worried conduit had offered to take up a torch and pass out some of the scarlet flame this time around, perhaps he was finally warming up to the ritual? - allowing the perfect space for him to practice his final audience with The Pale King’s vessel.

He chuckled to himself at the memory of that wyrm... Always so frazzled, with his thoughts scattered all about, never in one place. He never did get to teach that fool how to relax before he up and disappeared, leaving this kingdom to be ravaged by Her incurable sickness. What a shame...

He was just coming out of a twirl when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. His knees buckled. He fell. Where were the Grimmkin when he needed them?

Letting out a faint growl, he tried to get back onto his feet as he clutched his- His... He looked down to where his hand was supposed to be touching the smooth, red carapace of his chest, horrified at the sight that greeted him. An open wound, leaking with bright, scarlet flame where the heart of any normal bug was supposed to be located. It was only after that first moment of shock that the pain set in.

Collapsing to the ground once more, Grimm let out a roar of misery and shock and anguish and pure, unfiltered agony. It felt as if the fires that once kept him fed and warm as a child was now burning him up from the inside, taking every part of his body with them. Under his claws he felt his body coming apart, leaving less and less shell to grip on to as he was consumed by what once kept him alive. What was happening? This was not how the ritual went. This was not supposed to happen-

~ Curtains closed. Lights out. Our lead actor has disappeared. ~

Grimm jerked up into a sitting position, breath laboured and raspy as he clutched his chest. It was solid now. Ok. He wasn’t dead, at least. The legacy didn’t end with him as he had feared when... Wait.

He glanced around the room, feeling his metaphorical heart sink when he saw the stitched-together crimson and plum and wine-coloured fabrics that covered the floor, the ever-gently pulsing veins, the scarlet, firelit lanterns... He wasn’t in the physical realm anymore, he quickly realized.

Rolling over, he grabbed a small hand mirror from beside the bed, frantically checking his physical appearance. The ritual hadn’t failed, had it? No. It was still going if the coal colouring of his crescent-shaped horns was anything to go by. Then that must’ve meant...

Oh. Oh, that traitor.

Grimm could feel a growl bubbling up from his chest as he considered what might’ve happened. He must’ve tried to stop the ritual early, perhaps even tried to kill the troupe as a whole by banishing them back to the dream realm. He must’ve manipulated Grimms poor co-actor in this important play into following him, they seemed so glad to help out with the ritual, after all...

Wait. The ritual. The child. Where was the child? Why hadn’t it called out to him yet? Where was the child?

Frantically, and yet gently, he began searching through the satin sheets of the bed he had woken up in. If the child wasn’t dead, it had to be there somewhere, right? Right? Ri- Ah. There it was...

He carefully picked up the limp grimmchild, studying it for a moment. It worried him how he could only barely see it’s chest move, and it wasn’t chirping or making any other kind of noise at him like it usually would, even in its sleep. Not that one could truly sleep in the dream realm.

“My child...” He rasped, quietly, holding it close to his chest, still feeling the gentle pulse of fire inside it. It was still alive, that much was true, but it would not remain that way for long at this stage of the ritual. It would need more flame, and quickly, but finding it could be difficult without his grimmkin to scour the vast wastelands between kingdoms for something worthy of the presence of the troupe in its entirety. Sighing, he cradled his child close as he sat for a long moment in hopelessness, considering his options.

“Marintide...” A voice murmured in his mind, the rasp undoubtedly belonging to The Nightmare King himself.

Right. Of course. They had received another call while performing their ritual in Hallownest. The other kingdom was far geographically, but travelling large distances had never been

much of a problem for the troupe. But then again, the troupe hadn’t been in this situation for several centuries. Last time they were banished was way back in-

A soft cough and whine of complaint sounded from the starving child. Right. Best not to dwell on that with a starving grimmchild in his arms.

Slowly, Grimm laid back down on the satin bed, still holding the child close to his chest as he focused on the brief glimpses he had been given of the kingdom when they had received their call. He admittedly struggled a little with remembering the less interesting details, such as the dying corals and thick bramble forests, but he managed none the less.

Waking up on cold, hard stone was not a welcome experience, but it was the best way to tell that they had arrived. Huffing as he got up, Grimm took a moment to look around. Without the Grimmkin to go before him and set up a comfortably warm tent, he was immediately exposed to the cold breeze coming in from the ocean and the sight of the beautifully ruined architecture that once was this great kingdom.

The stone beneath his feet was a brilliant cobalt blue, and he could see the sunlight reflecting off something gold in the distance. Sunlight? Ah. An aboveground kingdom, then. Something that looked like a lighthouse of sorts was off in the distance as well, just barely visible if he squinted through the gleam of gold from fallen pillars and monuments. The sun was glinting off the sea as well, the water so reflective that he almost missed the large, pale form that smoothly broke the surface and went back under in the same movement. A seawyrm, perhaps. He had been told of these before, though he couldn’t recall much...

Shaking his head to clear his mind of thought and clutching the grimmchild closer still, he made his way through the ruins towards the woods he had seen. Extracting flame from living creatures was a painful process for both him and the second party, but in this case, it would have to be done. The Grimm lineage would not end with him.

Stepping into the woods, there was immediate rustling to his left. He barely had time to think before a large, hunter-esque creature had him pinned to the ground, teeth bared, ready to end him.

He remained calm, though, reaching up and firmly placing his open palm over its eyes as he focused, sending into a deep, nightmare-ridden sleep... Sighing, Grimm nudged the large creature off of him, finally untucking the grimmchild from his cape. His expression quickly dropped when he saw the state they were in, flopping over limply in his hands instead of flying up and readily feasting on the nightmares of the sleeping hunter.

This was bad. This was really bad.

Quickly, he crouched down by the sleeping hunter, carefully placing his child upon their head. “Sorry about this...” He murmured, though he knew his apology would never be heard, though he knew there was no forgiveness to be had for what he was about to do.

Then, he started chanting.

The words that spilt from his lips made the fire inside him roar back to life. It was painful, but he had to endure. For his child. For the troupe. He gritted his teeth together to keep himself from screaming, wanting so dearly not to distress his child...

“Ngahhh...”

Grimm glanced up at the noise, finally stopping his chanting, smiling when he saw his child just as lively as ever. But...

He brought his hand up, gently touching his left horn, quickly finding a large patch missing, replaced by openly roaring scarlet fire. He was weakening, he realized, tucking the child close once more. They would need to finish the ritual soon. He’d just need to find Brumm so-

Right. Brumm wasn’t part of the troupe anymore. That traitor.

He didn’t have a conduit now. And he didn’t have a helper either. As sure as he was that he could get the vessel to meet him outside Hallownest, the banishment ritual would not allow him within several miles of the place.

He’d have to wait.

Slowly wasting away into a fire ghost, he’d have to wait.

He’d be willing to make that sacrifice for his child, yes.

He’d keep them alive and safe until a proper ritual could be conducted again, or until he finally grew unable to help it and it’d have to starve.

He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

( donotgogently )

( @wasabi-arts )

Grimm pets the small creature in his arms, looking over Dirtmouth from the cliff. “What a shame for our little friend to abandon you in such a place,” he cooed, starting his descent down king’s pass, “ and a place so dangerous and cold. To think that vessel didn't even bring you back to our Trope.” The child purred in his arms, content with the situation despite the abandonment.

The trek back to the troupe wasn’t long, and Grimm made his way into the tent. “Good evening, Master.” Brumm said, already offering to take the torch from Grimm’s hands, surprised by the sight of the child, as well as Grimm’s damaged horn. “Master, why do you hold the child? And may I ask what happened to your right horn?” Grimm simply smiled at Brumm, dismissing Brumm’s second question while petting the child. “I hate to admit such a circumstance, but I do believe our little visitor has abandoned the child. Brumm was silent for a moment, looking at the child. He didn’t like the idea of Grimm dying for the sake of a ritual, and would much rather let the ritual die. At least for a bit longer, if it must continue.

“Why do you think they abandoned it?” Brumm asked, curious. “The traveler seems attached to it.” With a thoughtful nod from Grimm, he pet the child once more to hear it purr. “Maybe it has something to do with the roar heard earlier?”

“Roar?” Grimm asked, cocking his head with curiosity. “I heard no such thing.”

Brumm was surprised at this comment, stopping his music at the thought. “But Master, the roar was quite loud. It rattled the tents of our troupe and the homes of this here town. The bug near the bench described it as something akin to a cry.”

“I see...”

Grimm looked out of the tent in the direction of the crossroads. The abandoned Vessel of the Pale King himself had likely gone down below, Grimm thought. That was the location of the black egg that the king set up long ago to contain the infection. And since The Knight was a vessel themself, that is likely where they went.

“I don't think we’ll see them for a while, my dear Brumm.” The child snored in his arms. “May I ask why not?” “Well, do believe our small friend has gone to fight the creature inside the

crossroads.” “...”

Brumm looked back at Grimm’s shattered horn. “Master,”he asked,resuming his music,”May I ask what happened to your horn?”

Grimm turned away from the tent’s entrance to face Brumm.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” He stated, touching the broken spot with his hand.”I had gotten into a bit of a scuffle with the creatures up in the cliffs trying to obtain the child.” The spot hurt, yes, however Grimm paid it no mind. It was merely a minor injury, he was far more concerned about the child in his arms.

“Well, Brumm, we should take care of the child in the knight’s absence, hm?”

Brumm nodded in agreement. “I do think we should take care of your injury too, Master.”

( @ouliarts )

( @null-icon )

It is the dead of night and the big top is quiet with the whispers of a phantomly audience. Your Master had told you to keep watch before he had rushed out in a hurry - the fastest you’ve seen him move outside of performance - but it is still the same dark, dreary town at the base of the looming cliffs off to the left. Winds still whipped about and crept underneath the tent fabrics, the scarlet haze of an ethereal presence flickers with the chill, and with a rumbling sigh gathered from the depths of your chest, you reach behind you to pull out your trusty accordions and begin to play a slow melody from something beyond your time as a Troupe member. It’s a delicate number though sharp and stuttered even to your skilled hands, suggesting that the you of another lifetime had not gotten to learn it well, but you are alone with your thoughts and the mumble of an uncaring audience so you practice and improvise in hopes of making it something worth playing for someone beyond deserving.

The tent flaps flutter open long after you’ve sat down with your legs crossed and your instrument falls silent. The winds outside had gotten stronger, but it was hardly an observation relevant when shortly after the flaps are sealed you feel your fur near singing from the blast of furious heat. Where you previously would have no need to look up at the looming figure that storms past, you can’t help but to draw your gaze upon him. His stance is proud and he glides elegantly through the entrance chamber, nodding to you his curt greeting as he adjusts something under his thin cloak. You would have assumed nothing was off if he wasn’t radiating the hellish heat of his rage, and when he exited into the main ring, one of the heads of his curving black horns snapped clean off bleeding an otherworldly vermillion that trickled into his wiry fabrics.

Sometime when the sun should have broken over the peaks, you decide to pay your Master a visit, your curiosity and concern uncharacteristically getting the best of you. You don’t get much more than a few strides into his secluded part of the big top when the maroon walls shudder despite his quiet rasp, “I do not believe I summoned you, Brumm.”

“Mmmrr… So it may be. You are not well.”

“Is that so? What makes you question my state of being? What is it you find in the need to bother my rest?”

“The tent still simmers with your anger. My sight did not deceive me when I spotted your-” You are interrupted when the soft grizzle sounds, the pale pink of small irises blinking through where your Master is concealed. “... If that is all you dare approach me for, be on your way, Brumm. You have disturbed me, and now my child. Let us sleep.”

“Have you bandaged yourself, Master?” The hesitance you are greeted with tells you all you need to know, and you go digging in your fur for the roll of fabric you sew onto the shreds of your patchy sleeves. “Mmmh. Let me cover the wound, then I will leave.”

“I do not remember giving you permission.” “I do not require it for this.” Grimm uncovering himself enough for cat-like eyes to stare into your mask is simply affirmation to your statement. His horn had stopped oozing, now simply glowing dimly, but still you settle beside him to begin carefully swathing his horn in gray linen. “Did you fight, Master?” “Yes.”

“What for?” “My child. You must understand, the child is the future of this troupe. Of us.”

“Hrm. Why was the Grimmchild beyond the big top?”

“I do not know, Brumm, but it does not matter. Our caller approaches us soon, and the ritual will soon begin. That is what’s most important.” After the timbre of his voice falls out, you have nothing left to say and so you shift the rest of your energy into securing the wrap you have now made. “It will grow back, but thank you regardless, Brumm.” And when you turn to leave as promised, Grimm speaks up again.

“Will you play me a song, musician?”

( https://twitter.com/Heck_Yena )

( tfwhynot)

The troupe was always on the move. When the ritual wasn’t in the picture they, for the most part, had to travel the old fashion way. The tents could be instantly packed and unpacked with a snap of Grimm’s fingers, coming in and out of the Nightmare realm with ease. The Grimmkin were a similar story, though they themselves were in control of which realm they were in at any time. It was the more unique bugs that couldn’t though, Brumm, Divine, and the Grimmsteads were anchored to the waking realm.

Grimm led the caravan on a wagon all his own. It held everything he needed to plan, maps, lists of supplies they had or needed, and written plans for performances of future and past. Brumm followed in the wagon behind. It carried all the other things that didn’t originate from the nightmare heart; containing currencies from lands of all sorts. Things to trade away for other things they may need or want, rations of food and water, and nicknacks collected for sentimental purposes. In the very back, the strongest and most loyal steed followed, wheeling Divine’s wagon with them. Jars of the various substances she excreted were stashed, herbs, and remedies, each with their own uses.

Brumm’s music floated around the caravan, the familiar tunes of his accordion helping fight off complete boredom. Grimmkin popped in and out, joking and chatting among themselves. The newest of them excited to be on the road again, the long darkness to come not quite setting in on them yet.

The road they traveled slowly grew rough, the wagon wheels bouncing slightly on the rocks that were sprinkled across the road. Two mountains off in the distance came into view, a thin and winding path was carved through, old and uncared for; it was made a mess by time. It had been made by a kingdom long gone and forgotten.

He waved down a few Kin that was chatting above him, “Explore the hills we are to tread,” He rasped out, “Report any dangers or curiosities you come across.” They nodded and dashed off, nothing but a rapidly disappearing blaze of scarlet fire left behind.

Time passed as Grimm waited, the steed pulling his wagon huffed at them, silently asking to rest soon. The road was still uneven, each wagon still bouncing off the occasional rock, tilting to and fro at the uneven path.

The Grimmkin still hadn’t returned as the wagons began to pull through the mountains. The walls of rock were high on each side, holes were mirrored on each side. A few old corpses could barely be seen, legs and arms of bugs both wild and sentient lay idle, their chests gaping open, innards long eaten by what lived here. He placed a hand on the child’s back where they were curled by his side in worry. They murmured in their sleep, still so small and weak. It’d be a while till the next ritual.

The walls were close together, they only just let the wagons pass without the worry of scraping the sides. There was no way to turn around once the caravan walked past the entrance, let alone run the other way if something happened.

“The path through should be short,” Grimm thought, “We’ll stop for rest and food on the other side,” he waved down more kin, a dozen more than last time, “If something happens we can deal with it,” He instructed them to carry torches and light the path, and most importantly, report back if they saw something, “We’ll always make it through.”

Music seeped through the artificial canon, echoing through the caves along each side. The old familiar tune felt uneasy, the vague feeling of nervousness permeating through the troupe enough to effect Brumm. The steeds began to slow, the sounds of their marching quieting as they pushed through the fatigue encasing their shells.

A puff of red smoke and a small novice was sitting beside Grimm. Their shrill and panicked voice woke the child, their words were spoken quickly, half slurred together, and hard to understand.

A sharp scree cut through all the noise, leaving a deafening quiet in its wake.

The Grimmkin immediately started to panic, “That’s the noise! Tha-”

A kin was slammed against the wall with a loud crack, their shell breaking on impact as a creature dug into them, shredding their garments as they fell, the Grimmkin wailing.

Jumping up Grimm tossed the reins to a nightmare kin. As he got on top of the wagon another scree rang out; the grimkin this time successfully dodging. Brumm’s wagon shook as the creature collided with it, the steed leading it letting out a panicked whimper.

The creature hissed on the ground, mandibles and legs flailing as for a moment before righting itself. It crouched down, ready to strike again when the wheels of Divine’s cart rolled over, only pinning it at first, the steed struggling to pull over the living speedbump. A squeak and a squelch and their rigid shell shattered, Divine letting out a startled yelp as the wheel suddenly dropped back to ground level.

Another screech, Grim immediately aimed to intercept it when yet another rang out.

It was like a domino effect, one after another after another screaming before leaping at the caravan. Grimm dashed, intercepting as many as he could before they hit, the air was just as full of fire as it was the creature as the kin attempted to help kill their attackers.

Still more kept coming, “Take them through as fast as possible,” Grimm barked at the nightmare leading them.

“Master?” Brumm called out, worry lacing his voice as much as panic.

“I’ll meet up with you on the other side, just go!”

They didn’t need to be told twice, the steeds immediately attempting to move as fast as their tired legs could carry them.

Flinging himself into the air Grim puffed up with a loud scream, doing his best to draw all of their attention. Fire flung from around him, lighting the small canyon with fire.

It worked, the beasts focusing on the largest threat. The wagons now having to deal with fewer things under their wheels could actually hurry, fear coursing through the steeds giving them new energy. The sound of Grimm’s fight growing more and more distant till it was nothing but an echo on the other side.

Once out the steeds couldn’t go any further if they tried. Their shells heaved as they drew breath, legs shaking as they unhitched themselves, collapsing on the ground with exhaustion. They huffed at the kin who immediately checked on them, shaking any attempts to get them to stand up, just wanting to be left alone.

With a grunt Brumm hopped out of the cart, afraid of what he might see.

It looked like the fuckers had attempted to burrow through the wagons. Shallow divots in the repurposed shells that made the walls and ceilings were spread across all the wagons.

He made his way to the front, seeing the nightmare doing their best to comfort Grimmchild as they cried.

“Mrmmm. Is the child hurt?”

They shook their head no, rubbing their back as they clung to the kin, “scared and worried for their father, but completely unharmed,” they rumbled.

Brumm nodded as he looked to the other kin. A few quickly busied themselves but most were unsure, not knowing what to do without instruction from the master. No one could properly hunker down for the night without him and there wasn’t really a second in command for situations like this.

“Try and get some to start repairs on the wagons,” Brumm told the nightmare. He shifted in place trying to figure out what to do, he wasn’t a leader, he hated giving directions to others. There was a reason he was the only musician, as the sole bug who composed the music he just could never direct others to play something right.

Walking back to Divine he could hear her talking, her airy voice louder and sharper than usual.

“Aaaah! Where’s the master? He said he’d meet us! I can’t smell him here! Where is he?” The kin outside her wagon shrugged.

“Mrmmm. How are you fairing Divine?” Brumm asked, already knowing the answer.

“Aaaahhhhh! Just terribly! What are we supposed to do? The master said he’d be here!”

“All we can do is wait. Master will come with time.”

Divine hissed in worry, she shifted and wiggled as much as she could, “But couldn’t he just puff back in any second? Why isn’t he here!” Her face was in a deep frown, something no one saw often, it made her smiling mask half look out of place and strange.

“Mrmmm. He may still be trying to buy time, he can’t see how far we are.”

“Aaahhhhh! But what if! What if…” She trailed off, not wanting to say what she thought. If she said it, what if it came true?

“Impossible, it’s never happened before. He’ll return. Master may come back hurt, but he will come back.” Brumm reassured.

Divine still wasn’t sure about that but dropped it, “What are we supposed to do till he comes back?”

“Mrmm,” Brumm had to think for a moment, “I don’t know. I’ll start getting food ready I guess. Keep medical supplies at the ready when he returns.”

“Ahh… But what am I supposed to do? I’ll worry myself into knots if I don’t do something!”

“You can watch the child. The nightmare caring for them now has more important things they can do. Just make sure they’re calm, try to get them to sleep.” Divine nodded at Brumm and he set off to try and put things together.

As time passed though Brumm couldn’t stop worry from clouding his head. He kept a bag of medical supplies on him while he cooked while doing his best to focus on the task at hand, making a basic soup from what they had. Though the spot they were at wasn't the best, the kin were able to find a river, grabbing buckets to add to the cauldron and give to the steeds. There wasn’t any promise of something that tasted amazing but everyone would appreciate having something in their stomachs for now.

There was little conversation as food was passed around. Not even the novices, often cheerful and mischievous, found it in them to crack jokes. Brumm at least took the chance to fully get what damages were. The wheels would need to be replaced, many cracks and deformations from the blasted things would make it risky to set off too soon, they’d need some material to make some final repairs but the wagons were still okay enough that there wasn’t worry of them falling apart or rain seeping through, the steeds were tired and a bit scratched up but would be okay with rest, and while a few Grimmkin had been lost the majority were okay, shaken up, but okay.

The tents appeared in a flash, faster and more sudden than Brumm had seen in a long time. It was almost dizzying, everyone having to be moved and placed within different rooms.

“Master!” Brumm realized. He had to find him, figure out what happened, make sure he was okay.

Where was he even? A quick turn around and he was in the main stage with a few other confused kin, a few mourning over dropping their meal in their daze.

Master’s room, Grimm had to be there. He was quick to shuffle as best as he could in the darkened stage.

“Master?” Brumm called.

“Come in Brumm.”

Brumm tentatively moved the curtain, peering in. His mast was sprawled out on a fainting couch.

“Master! Your horn-”

“I know Brumm, it looks worse than it feels.”

Brumm couldn’t believe that. One of Grimm’s horns had been torn off, the thick shell left was jagged and cracked around it. The soft flesh within weeping blood now that it was exposed.

Grimm had been injured before but this… This had never happened. Maybe a crack or scratch, but even during the ritual Brumm had never seen a piece of Grimm torn off.

“You-You need to get that cleaned immediately!” Brumm moved closer, trying his best to see if there was anything else.

Grimm chuckled, “I haven’t heard you order someone around in a long time.”

That made Brumm freeze, “I… Mrmm. I’m sorry master that wasn’t my intent.”

Finally, Grimm turned to face him, “There is no need to apologize, my friend, I was only teasing.”

Grimm had a tired smile, blood slowly winding its way down the side of his face. There were a few other scratches and cuts, small tears in his cloak, but nothing nearly as bad as his horn.

“I’m just glad everyone is okay,” He turned back looking down to what Brumm could now see was the Grimmchild. They rested their head on their father's arm, purring softly as Grimm’s other hand lightly scratched their head.

“Please master, let me dress your wounds. Even if it’s not as bad as you say it still needs to be taken care of soon rather than later.”

Grimm looked back at Brumm, seeing him fidget with worry, “Very well.”

He shifted into a better position, sitting upright with his cloak completely out of the way, much to the complaint of Grimmchild. Grimm shushed them as Brumm moved in front of him. Even sitting on a couch this low to the ground Grim was still at eye level with Brumm.

Brumm had to take a deep breath to calm his nerves as he pulled out supplies to clean his master, “Mrmm. This is probably going to sting,” he warned.

He poured a cleaning acid on a clean towel, it wasn’t strong enough to do much more than sting, but it still cleaned. He carefully dabbed at the wound, waiting to see if there was any reaction. Grimm’s eye twitched slightly but he kept calm as Brumm thoroughly cleaned his head.

Placing the used rag aside, pulling a large pair of tweezers out. Grimm bowed his head slightly, allowing Brumm easier access. Carefully Brumm pulled bits of shell that had embedded themself in the wound. Grimm huffing as a large piece, roughly the size of a piece of geo, was taken out.

After cleaning it again Brumm placed a layer of protective shell over it, a large circular disk of shell cleaned and cut to help cover a wound till it healed so nothing got in. It was a bit big but it did the job. With some adhesive strips, it was secured.

Brumm stepped back, “It’s done, master. Mrmm.”

That same tired smile from before appeared again, “Thank you for caring for me, my friend. Tell me, was the rest of the troupe okay?”

“Yes, a few kin were lost but given some time to rest everyone will be okay. The wagons will likely need to be replaced soon though.”

Grimm nodded, “Rest, that certainly sounds nice. Would the troupe be okay if I rested for now?”

“Mrm. I believe so, though it would be a good idea to talk to everyone and address what happened.”

“Of course, of course,” Grim, let out a slow sigh, looking down as the child got comfortable again. “Could you leave me to rest then?”

Brumm nodded silently and left. As he lifted the curtain he turned again, taking one final look at his master. He was too tired to hang as he usually slept, instead opting to curl around the child on the fainting couch.

“Rest well master.”

( @kiwikoala )

( @vibeseeker )

Crimson flames slowly licked up the draping curtains, draining away all color except the ocean of red that surrounded the young king and the visage of the ever beating Nightmare Heart. The ever present silence within the realm was only pierced by the steady thump of the constantly beating object, joined soon by the child's own pulse.

That is until a sharp crack echoed through the red hued abyss, quickly following the noise the growing troupe master had been blinded by a bright light. He quickly beat his wings in an adrenaline fueled struggle to wipe away the blazing heat that seared into his retinas, only to be met by a new presence that felt somewhat familiar. However the very energy called out to him, drawing him to cautiously approach.

"So I see the mewling cub shows its strength, choosing to find me within my own realm," The figure slightly turned and with a snap set their hand alight with a crimson flame, unveiling the form of the Nightmare King "It's almost cute, though that won't prove you as a worthy enough vessel alone."

"I... I just... I wasn't trying too..." Grimmchild nervously spoke as he pushed off the larger beings baited words, fanning out his wings and drifting to the floor below "my... my father, he... where is he? I... I was just with him..." panic started to grip at the small things words, as his eyes darted around and finally took in the lack of a landscape around the pair "...where am I? Who are you? What did you do?"

"Hah, poor thing, did your father never tell you of your purpose?" The Nightmare spoke with a chuckle and slowly bent down to be a little closer to the child's level, the pinkish red of his eyes burning deep within "a shame then, a kin not properly warned will make the process far more difficult than it should be..."

"...kin? My... my purpose? Wh..what do you mean?" Grimmchild asked with a slight hitch to his voice, pulling his wings back as worry tugged at the edges of his mind "I... I really want to go home... where is home?" He asked again, not expecting a real answer but hoping that the strange 'kin' would take pity upon him.

The larger figure let off a deep sigh as it drew back up to its full height, looking away with an almost bored expression adorning their face.

"Fine, perhaps you were simply dragged here out of pure luck then, as I doubt a weakling could get here of skill alone..." The Nightmare King then lifted one of his hands before giving a simple snap that caused the child to burst into crimson flames, almost immediately cooking them inside and out as their skin was charred and reduced to ash.

Grimmchild awoke with a start, jolting up upon the soft sheets of a fine bed deep within the maze of tents that was the troupe. His breathing was laboured and irregular, and a tear was starting to build up on the edge of his eyes, that is until a black wing gently pulled him back into a kind embrace.

"Is everything alright little one?" Grimm spoke out with a softer tone, moving himself a little closer in order to better comfort his son.

"A... a nightmare... it... it felt s..so..." the child stuttered for a while, struggling to form words until Grimm tightened the hug a little further and carefully wrapped his wing around them. Laying the both of them back into the bed.

"Its okay little one, nightmares are just that, nightmares. Just try and get back to sleep, alright?"

"A..alright..."

( @doodle-chris )

#and that's all of them!#hollowknight #hollow knight #otherart #otherfic #fanart #giftcorner #telephoneknight #long post #also bolded names are people who im still trying to get accounts to link to #stand by for thems

125 notes · View notes

reddus-sideblog · 2 years

Text

Favours Owed - Epilogue

Well here’s the final bit of story for Favours Owed, and my goodbye to our Pathfinder game that went a whole year. It was a hell of a journey, and I loved every step of it.

I’m going to miss these characters so damn much, Nik, Kii, Valka, and Tisi made up one of the most fun player character groups I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing with.

So anyways, lets say goodbye properly.

The lively congregation around the Cathedral of St. Cecilia of Sarenrae was an odd and rather varied mixture of people, as though they had all been blown into the walled city of Dixon by each of the four winds. There were a number of pirates, a sylph princess, the reigning King of Velakor, a dragon rider, two sentient magical artefacts, a tiefling (and his dog), Dixon’s sheriff, a Westron prince, a dwarven gunsmith, a number of catfolk alchemists, and even a blue dragon. There were also a good number of native Southerlanders, the whole of the Eriny family, and the Saerenraen sisterhood in attendance, though Megaera Eriny was barely seen as she ran about from group to group, ensuring that everything would go as she had planned. Tisiphone was never one for thorough planning, and, after a whole afternoon of wheedling, and pleading she had acquiesced and let Meg plan the whole of the wedding. While she hadn’t said anything about it to anyone else, Meg’s excitement for planning the wedding had made Tisi’s heart feel a bit warm. It also, ultimately, made the whole affair a hell of a lot easier, as Tisiphone had a lot more experience in sharpshooting and bounty hunting than she did in marital vows and ceremonies. The blonde bounty hunter was nowhere to be seen at the congregation, however, as she and the groom were being kept in separate wings of the church until the ceremony began properly.

* * *

Tisiphone glared at herself in the mirror of Megaera’s room in the sisterhood’s convent. She didn’t hate the makeup, or the gown, or her hair being done up in an elegant, lengthy braid. Tisi didn’t even necessarily hate the pomp and circumstance that came with the wedding, she just never saw herself as ever possibly being the one at the center of it all. She tugged at the lengthy satin glove that covered her clockwork arm. It was ticking a bit slower than Tisiphone’s heart was, as the excitement of it all had been getting to her all day.

“Oh don’ play wit it so much, the last thing we need is somethin’ gettin’ torn or summat.”, chided Meg. The youngest Eriny was definitely seeming a bit frazzled from the last few days of work, and the closeness of the finale was getting to her. A few more stray, curly blonde hairs than usual were peeking out from under her habit than usual and she looked like she had slept poorly for the last few days.

The bounty-hunter-come-bride broke off the staring contest with her reflection and nodded as she looked out the open window at the blue sky. Friends, family, and a lot of others were out there, because of Vera and herself simply asking them to be. It was an odd feeling, not being reviled as a killer, manslaughterer, and scum for once. Tisiphone still wasn’t sure if she liked it, but she wasn’t going to run off now, twenty-five years was long enough of a courtship, and Vera meant just too damn much to her.

Tisi’s little soliloquy was broken by a strident “THERE YA ARE!” coming from Meg. The gunslinger had her hidden derringer pulled and ready by the time she realized that the “YA” of her sister’s cry was in fact Kii. The sylph was frozen in terror, like a thief caught dead to rights, halfway across the window sill, impossibly halted mid-vault.

Kii had only heard Meg yell a handful of times, and she had yet to have the sister’s ire focused on herself. Before this instant, of course. Kii floated gently to the ground, doing her best to resume her usual graceful posture, despite the hangdog look she tried to hide behind her great fluffiness of hair.

“Miss Kii, if yuh’re ta be mah sister’s bride-o’-honor I need ya to be present a bit more. And I really need ya to put on ya dress, raight now.”

“Yes... yes of course...”, Kii said, practically pouting. She loathed wearing restrictive, cumbersome dresses. As pretty as they may be, Kii had had nearly enough of wearing dresses to last her a lifetime over the course of the past few months. All the royal functions with Roland, to say nothing of his coronation, had ended up putting Kii into stuffy, “princess-worthy” dresses far more often than she liked. Worst of all, when she was so bound she couldn’t fly, as everyone put it “for the sake of her dignity”.

The sylph let Meg and Lil Sarah get to work, cladding her in the trappings of finery. At the very least Kii did her best to hide her pouting, if not her bored expression. Tisiphone watched in amusement as her sister and soon-to-be adopted daughter went to work, performing a process similar to what she had undergone. The girls had an excellent handle on what to do to wrangle a free spirit like Kii into a dress, as their practice on Tisi had informed them well. Within twenty minutes they were finished, with Kii now matching the bride’s elegance and appearance. Pleased with the end product, Megaera allowed herself a little celebration, letting out a whoop of excitement. Tisi and Kii returned it with a dour glance.

“Alraight, you gals stay here, the ceremony’ll be in... OH LORDS ABOVE TEN MINUTES?!”, Meg shrieked. She darted out of the room, and was off down the hall before she even finished yelling.

Kii started to allow herself to float a bit before she was tugged down by Lil Sarah. the sylph sighed resignedly, and plodded over to the bed and flopped onto her side.

“How in the name of the sky do any of you just walk everywhere you go....?”, she muttered loudly.

Tisiphone chuckled, she’d never seen Kii so sullen. “Well ya just put one foot infront o’ the othah, mostly.”

Kii practically glared back at the bounty hunter, “You know what I mean.”

“Aw c’mon, as soon as the ceremony’s done ya can come up heah and get changed, ya don’t need to wear it for the whole o’ the reception or nothin’,” Tisi said, waving away the responsibility with a mechanically timed dismissive gesture.

“Yes, but...,” Kii started, half walking half floating over to the window of the room. “Everyone’s out there! I could be seeing them, and watching them! And Roland’s out there too, he’s been so busy lately Tisi, you have no idea. I was hoping to spend some time with him and Jodd before we got all busy with... this.” she said, gesturing to her dress.

Kii kept leaning out the window until she was almost floating out of it at a forty-five degree angle. Lil Sarah gave a shout and grabbed Kii by the ankle. Kii was jolted back into the room mid-wave, and also yelped. Kii growled in frustration and gave Lil Sarah a light pat on the head before taking to pacing back and forth in the room.

Hating to see her dear friend so bothered Tisiphone stood and asserted herself by clearing her throat. The bridal gown suited her well, and it had been tailored to suit her height and asymmetrical nature particularly well. The long satin glove on her right arm was balanced out by a more sparse left side to the dress. The dress’s train had been pinned up elegantly, as per the bride’s demand, and it showed off her strong legs quite well. The derringer hidden on her was almost impossible to see, unless she somehow fell into a compromising position.

The magus stopped her pacing to take in the full appearance of Tisiphone’s wedding dress, almost taken aback by it all. Between the elegance of the dress, the makeup on the good side of her face, and the well-done hairdressing that had been done the bride looked almost nothing like the legendary and infamous bounty hunter who was known as The Scourge of the Southerlands.

“Tisi... you look marvelous...”, Kii said eventually.

Tisiphone looked away bashfully, huffing a bit. “... thanks. I reckon no one but Vera’s evah called me that.”

“Well they ought to! And I’m sure everyone will think so too once they get to see you all gussied up!” Kii cheered.

Tisiphone sat back down again, staring hard into the floorboards. She now realized that everyone down in front of the church was going to see her like this and the thought mortified her.

* * *

The rectory’s front door slammed open and resplendent purple blur, followed by a very angry, clattering lawlady came into the small house’s front room where the elven groom was seated. Valka tripped and slid across the front room with all the grace of a spilled drink, while Sheriff Alekto watched the shackled catboy with disdain from the room’s threshold.

“STOP KICKING ME IN THE ASS! I KNOW IT’S ROUND AND SOFT BUT I CAN ONLY TAKE SO MUCH ABUSE!”

Alekto ignored the alchemist’s protests and glared at Vera and Nik in turn, her perpetual scowl almost imperceptibly stronger than usual. “Could yah at least keep a leash on this one? He was tryna git inta the reception hall and caught him eatin’ some o’ the appetizahs.”

Vera sighed dramatically and looked down to the fallen alchemist, and tutted at him like a parent scolding a misbehaving child. “Really now, Mister Valka, I thought that a lawlady of such skill as my soon to be sister-in-law would make you keep your nose out of trouble for once.”

“Well they should have locked the door to the dining hall then! Hekhata said it would be totally fine!” Valka replied indignantly.

Alek rolled her eyes, “Those iron’s’re stayin’ on until after the reception. And if’n I catch ya doin’ somethin’ else I’ll be pistol whippin’ ya and takin’ ya to the station”. Having said her piece the sheriff stomped out of the house, going back to patrol the wedding’s guests for more wrongdoing.

With the lawlady having gone Nik got up and helped Valka to his feet, saving him from the ignominy of Abe licking his face enthusiastically. Valka tried to dust himself off but his hands, shackled as they were behind his back, did not allow him to do much. At the catfolk’s insistence Nik helped right Valka’s iconic purple suit, and put it into a fairly less bedraggled state.

“I swear, every time we come here that woman gets ticked off at the slightest thing! You wouldn’t believe how touchy she is. She almost chewed our heads off for returning some faulty alchemical products once!” Valka failed to mention how he was the one who had made the products faulty in the first place, and Nik had forgotten most of the misdeeds in that whole affair, so instead he nodded along, helping affirm Valka’s unnecessarily persecuted reputation.

Vera could not for the life of him understand how his bounty hunter bride spent so much time traveling with such an obvious and unrepentant criminal. By the same turn, however, she did very much so love the criminally-inclined elf himself. Looking back on their years together, it did seem a bit obvious to Vera, as Tisi had few qualms in dealing with the lawless so long as they didn’t have a price on their heads. Tisiphone’s haphazard and ornery ways were familiar enough to him, but the absolute gall of Valka did surprise him quite often.

“OK, good as new,” Nik cheerfully stated, having dusted down and righted Valka. He then helped seat the purple-haired catfolk on a chair before sitting down once more. “So it’s going to be soon, right, Vera?”

The elf looked up to the great clock tower of the church, it would be soon indeed. A bit less than ten minutes, even. He excused himself to use the washroom and freshen himself up before they left to the main hall of the cathedral. Vera was on his way back to the front room when he was stopped in the kitchen by a familiar voice that he hadn’t heard in over a year.

“Go figure that you’d be marrying Miss Eriny, eh?”

Vera turned to meet the gaze of Reoh, before running to hug the ancient slayer. The short elf’s headlong hug almost knocked the wind out of Reoh, but he returned it warmly. After a moment Vera stepped back and recomposed himself.

“I’m so glad you made it! I was worried that you were on the other side of the world by now.“ Vera fixed his hair slightly, not allowing it to stay mussed up from the old man’s fond treatment.

“As much as Miss Eriny and I may not see eye-to-eye I know that a lot of others still have a certain like of me, and I, really, I just hope that me being around doesn’t put a damper on things.“

“That’s nonsense, now come along, I know that the groomsmen will be more than happy to see you.”, Vera said, pulling Reoh along by the arm of his tattered red greatcoat. Vera had never been the excitable type, but the atmosphere of the day must have been getting to him. Reoh made his entrance to Valka and Nik, who both were elated to see the old man. He was hugged once more, and gladness was shared all around. Valka and Nik began telling Reoh about the wild adventures that they’d experienced after freeing him from Bostadt’s prison, and the old slayer listened to the two of them fondly, petting Abe the whole while.

Vera, back to being quiet and calm while the others did the talking for him, reminisced about his own times with Reoh the Slayer, and how, back when Reoh was much, much younger he had been the only human to approach a child of the reviled Sampo Fàn, and the young elf’s first real friend. It had been a long time since then, and the decades had worn on Reoh a lot more than they had on Vera.

Valka was in the middle of regaling Reoh of how he had single-handedly purged an enormous nest of shapeshifting bloodsuckers deep in the swamps of the Southerlands when Megaera sprinted up to the rectory and burst in, yelling at the assembled men to get to the main hall immediately. Reoh, Vera, Valka, Nik, and Abe were all taken aback by Meg’s intensity. She was usually exceedingly serene, but these last few days had practically whipped her into a frenzy. With the yelling and sternness coming out, it at long last really solidified just how much like her sisters she actually was, under her usual peaceful surface.

Vera calmly assured the harassed looking sister of Sarenrae that they would be along right away and leapt up, heading out for the cathedral’s main hall, with the others in tow.

* * *

The ceremony began well, with Vera awaiting his bride calmly. He watched his father out of the side of his eye, seated in the front row with only Madam Lashu as company, gripping the arm of the pew strongly. There was precious little the old human-hating elf could do at this stage, and elf groom tried not to let his smugness show too strongly. Still, Sampo had shown up at all, and while Vera had the most mixed of feelings about his father, he was ultimately glad that he was here, for better or for worse. He ultimately hoped this didn’t put a damper on their discreet correspondence.

Looking to the other side of the aisle, Tisiphone’s family, minus Alekto, were dressed in their finest clothes, and still seemed a bit amazed at the whole affair. That was fair, as, from what Vera understood, his bride had never been one to share a lot of her life with her family. For example he had only just met Tisiphone’s family earlier that week. This was understandable on a few levels, as being the direct descendant of a notorious human-killer was hardly a decent prospect for a husband, and the age gap between Vera’s two centuries and Tisiphone’s four decades was more than a bit improper. Ultimately, though, Ma and Pa Eriny seemed like they would welcome him into their family, and while Tisi’s sisters had their reservations the wedding was still happening, Meg was organizing and officiating it, and Alek had agreed to be a bridesmaid.

Beyond her immediate family, though, the assorted group of pirates, alchemists, nobility of Velakor, and others besides was a bit staggering. Despite her sharing stories it hardly seemed like Tisiphone’s adventures were wholly real until the consequences of her adventures were seated before him, ready to watch them be wed. Valka was being teased by Prince Hekhata over his current bondage, Nik sat placidly with Abe seated next to him, Kii was with the other bridesmaids, and off in the back, away from everyone else, was Reoh. Even from the altar Vera could tell that Reoh was smiling happily to himself. It must have felt good getting to see all the strangers you tried to help over the course of your entire life seated in front of you, enjoying themselves.

The pondering of the elf ended immediately when Megaera commanded the bride enter. From behind the back rows Lil Sarah came, spreading flower petals, and after her strode Tisiphone, resplendent in her wedding gown. The bounty hunter looked mortified to be seen in the dress, the left side of her face blushing hard enough to be noticed from the altar. She smiled weakly and gave little waves to her friends and family as they all cheered loudly making the cathedral’s main hall a joyously cacophonous affair. Tisi almost paused at the foot of the altar when she saw Vera (Valka helpfully yelled at Tisiphone, informing her that she had to go up the stairs).

Finally, Vera and Tisiphone were met upon the altar, with the significantly taller human bride looking down lovingly at her dear groom. Megaera went through their vows, and under the eyes of Sarenrae the two of them exchanged their mithril rings and vows, and twenty-five years after first meeting, Tisiphone Eriny was wed to Vera, who now shared the Eriny name. The husband and wife cried, kissed, and hugged, and the crowd of family and friends cheered their hearts out.

Their marriage now sealed, Tisiphone threw the bouquet out to the crowd as her and Vera walked the aisle towards the cathedral’s doors. Kii quite forget herself and and glided over to grab it, but she would not be the one to catch it. The bouquet instead was grabbed by a puprple-haired alchemist, who was lifted by a broad, red tiefling. The bundle of flowers firmly clutched in his teeth still, Valka crowed his victory briefly, before coming to a stammering halt as Prince Hekhata looked at him meaningfully.

The excitement was cut short instantly as the doors to the chapel were Slammed open, and a small squad of men stood, silhouetted by the glow of the sun beyond stood in the doorway, their weapons glinting in the broad daylight.

“Finally, after a whole year on that rainy, miserable rock, I, Ivan, have come to avenge Pragi-”

An ear-splitting staccato of gunfire, spells, and a veritable rain of thrown weapons cut the proclamation short. The Erinys, Kii, Nik, Captain Valka’s pirates, Sampo Fàn, and the bride and groom themselves all opened up on the Pragians before they could claim their revenge, and the perforated body of Ivan, along with the ruined bodies of his men, tumbled down the chapel’s front steps.

Tisiphone was positively glowing, and crying all over again, as she and Vera stood at the top of the blood-soaked stairs out of the church, with their companions, family, and friends assembled about them, before going to the reception in the dining hall.

“This has gotta be the best weddin’ I ever went to!”

THE END

3 notes · View notes

a3hihi · 3 years

Text

acts of service

one shot

omi fushimi/reader

word count: 1559

reposted on AO3!

Summary: Omi has this whole dinner planned: he’s got the food, the DVD, the timing. Then he starts feeling too warm.Omi gets a fever and you attempt to take care of him!

As you open your door, Omi looks like he’s about to fall over. He wears a simple jacket and pants, arms full of ingredients and legs swaying a bit. He’s a tad paler than usual, but you can’t tell for sure. Just after he knocked on your door, you had finished cramming a week’s worth of projects, quickly shuffling papers away and keeping your pencils before meeting him. You assume he’d been practicing for his play as well, all the while juggling work and school. “Hey.” He gives you a weak smile. “Hi. You okay?” you ask, wrapping your arms around him. Given the circumstances, that was more to stop him from wobbling than to hug him. “I’m fine.” He kisses the top of your head. That leads you to squawk in surprise, to his amusement. Still hugging, the both of you continue a weird waddle into your dorm. He’s cold, fresh from walking through the grocery store. “I got the eggs.” He moves an arm to brightly present an egg carton. “Give me a few minutes and we’ll have an omelette ready.”

You nod, but you see his arm waver from carrying a simple carton. “Ah, I can carry it.” You reach up and take it to the kitchen, Omi following behind you. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to have a hard time. Besides, I’m the cook tonight.” Ever since Omi started coming over, the kitchen’s been stocked with ingredients for him. You were used to instant noodles and takeout, but after a long conversation, you agreed to let him teach you how to cook more decent meals.

Omi walks over to the hooks on your wall, grabbing an apron with his name on it. He chuckles as you tie it behind his back. You’d have to ask him how to sew patches into it sometime. He quickly approaches your counter, takes a bowl, and cracks the egg yolks into it. You wait for him to continue, but he seems to be standing motionless. You peer up at him and you see his eyes flutter. “Is something wrong?”

Omi blinks back into reality. “Sorry. I just need to focus more.” He grabs a fork, but you catch his wrist before he starts whisking, earning you an “ah” from him. “Wait a second, please,” brushing the back of your hand on his forehead. “Your forehead’s hot.” “That it is,” he says, not moving from his spot in the kitchen. “So,” you continue, gently placing the fork down, “you should rest.” “I could whip this up real quick. I don’t want to waste any food, you know?” “Omi, I’m very sure you have a fever right now. Please stop?” You see him loosen up as he nods. There’s a weird feeling of guilt on him while he takes the apron off. “I hope this doesn't get me in the hospital,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head. “Too expensive.” “Hey now, no one said anything about the hospital.” You touch his arm. Knowing him, he’d only want to see a doctor if it was absolutely necessary. Had you gotten at least a scrape, though, he’d rush you to the clinic right away. That was one of the things you’d learned early about Omi, and you were willing to go through that as much as possible. You cup his cheek. “And even if you needed to go, I’d come with you.” He sighs, finally resigning from the food. “If you say so.”

After you lead him to your bed, which wasn’t too far away given the size of your dorm, you rush to the bathroom for a towel. Wringing a wet towel between your hands, you run back to find Omi sitting at your bed’s corner, tapping his leg on the floor. You take a seat to him. “Um. Scooch over, will you?” “Oh, of course.” He moves closer to the edge of the bed, patting the middle so you could reach the pillows. You pat the middle as well, but he doesn’t budge aside from laying his legs on the mattress, sitting up straight like a Lego. “Omi, you’re supposed to be the one resting today.” He grimaces at that. “No, no, I’m fine just staying here.” He picks at his nails. “I should at least make you a snack,” he says, getting up before you lightly push him back down.

Had you known Omi for a short time, you wouldn’t expect him to pout, especially when you consider his first impression for most people. But his expression at the moment was unbelievably close to sulking. “Please, you’ve been waiting for so long.” He takes your hand. “How was your day?" “Well, my thesis-- Hey, don’t try and change the topic! You need to stay here and relax!” “I didn’t mean to change the topic.” He frowns. You sigh. “You’re sick, Omi.” You get up and head to the kitchen. “I’m going to make tea and you can’t stop me,” you call out. “Stay put for me?” You take his silence as permission and get to work.

"Also, can we deliver something for dinner?" You hear a long sigh before him saying "Yep!"

You fish out the calming tea-- chamomile, you remember him mentioning-- and briskly mix it in a mug he’d bought for you. Man, you really should practice this when he’s not around. It’d be embarrassing to screw this up while he’s sick. You walk back to your room and hand him the tea. It’s warm in his hands, and you see his cheeks flush as he takes a sip.

His eyes widen and you panic. “Did I screw it up--” “You didn’t make tea for yourself?” You must look pretty frazzled with the way he’s holding your arm, like he’s trying to calm you down. That wasn’t the goal right now, and it was shaking you up further. "I just really wanted to help you, I guess. I’m sorry.”

He laughs quietly. “You don’t have to apologize.” He holds your wrist softly, and you wonder what happened to his attitude a moment ago. “We can share it.” He shows you the cup, half full, before saying “No, nevermind, it’s probably not a good idea.” You both sit in silence before you snort and take the cup, setting it on the desk by your bed. You take a blanket and pat it onto his lap.

“How’d you even get sick in the first place?” you say, trying not to sound nagging. You doubt that he’d think that, though. Omi adjusts the blanket on him. “Erm,” he says wisely, “I haven’t been getting the most sleep lately.” “And how much is that?”

Omi pretends to look around the room. He purses his lips. “Mmmmmm four a night.” “Hours?” you ask. He gives you a wry smile. “Omi??”

He raises his arms like he’s under arrest. “Does it help if I was awake for school?” “No?” “Also, I was meal prepping for the theater?” “No!” He shrugs in defeat. “I promise I won’t be sick for long. I can cook dinner in a while like always, no sweat.” “It’s not about the cooking,” you grumble. “You’ll get worse for wear at a pace like this. You need to take better care of yourself, Omi.” You make a point by poking his chest. He plays along and plops his back down on the mattress.

“Why do you keep me around?” He chuckles, rolling his eyes. You frown and lightly punch his arm. “Please don’t make jokes like that.” He snickers. “Alright, alright.” There’s a hint of gratitude to his words. Omi closes his eyes and finally lays his head down on the pillows. It’s relieving, seeing him this relaxed for once. You try storing this image in your head (for safekeeping) as you dab a fresh towel on his forehead.

“Thank you,” he breathes. Your cheeks warm. “You take care of everyone around here. It’s the least I can do.” As Omi opens his eyes to look at you, he smiles fully, and it scrunches up his cheeks. He takes your hand. “It means a lot.” While you don’t think he intends this, you now want to implode.

Omi gives your hand a gentle tug. “C’mere.” Welp, it was a good thing you both finished your assignments.

You move to the side and try to wriggle your way up to Omi’s eye level. You two joked about his height before, but you didn’t expect to take so long in moving up the mattress to meet him. It’s soft. Laying there, he smiles again, and his eyes resemble honey in the light. You’re starting to feel a bit woozy. It’s warm under the covers, especially with his fever, but not too stuffy. He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. "This okay?” “Of course it’s okay, it’s you,” you murmur, letting your foreheads meet. Omi chuckles weakly, like it’s too good to be true, and you move his head to lay on your chest.

The blanket’s light and thin as you pull it over you both. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper. “I know.” “I’m staying.” You play with his hair, and it’s soft. You’re about to drift to sleep, and he’s on the same page. Here, nursing an awful headache, Omi feels safe. “I’m happy.”

#a3! fanfic #omi fushimi x reader #omi fushimi #fushimi omi #a3! omi #hihiwrites #MADE MY OWN OMI FOOD LETS GO #quiche is ready

41 notes · View notes

ahopelessromantic · 4 years

Text

Love in the Time of Corona ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Some mentions of anxiety, Spencer is in love and forgets how to act like a person

Word count: 2,5k

Prompts: 23, ‘You love me?’

Getting locked in a hotel with your colleague hadn’t exactly been in your plans. But maybe spending quarantine with Spencer wasn’t even that bad of a thing.

“Are you sure?” Chewing on the insides of your cheeks, you watched Spencer talk to Hotch on the phone. “Alright, call us if anything changes.” With a sigh, he hung up and turned to look at you. “Hotch is trying to pull some strings to get us back home, but for now we’re stuck here.” You nodded, your gaze darting around the hotel lobby. “I need to call Garcia, she needs to know where my spare key is so she can get in and feed Goblin, and shit, I probably don’t have enough food for him for two weeks at home, someone needs to-“ Spencer calmed you down with a hand on your shoulder. “Hotch said Garcia already went to your apartment and fed him, she knew where the key was from when she watered your plants last time you visited your parents. Goblin is well taken care of.” You exhaled and looked into his eyes, scanning them for any form of anxiousness. But there was only kindness in them, and you relaxed. If Spencer wasn’t freaking out, then why should you?

“Come on.” He said, a light smile on his lips. “Let’s go check out how badly assorted the hotel library is.”

Goblin was your cat back home in Quantico, a spoiled diva you loved unconditionally and worried about endlessly. You hadn’t exactly expected the state you were in to go into corona lockdown so suddenly and the whole ordeal made your whole body buzz with anxiety. Of course you wanted to protect as many people as possible from getting sick, and under normal circumstances you would have gone into quarantine without a word of complaint, but you just really wanted to go home. You normally didn’t have a problem with the middle-class hotels your employer booked for you when you were away on cases, but then again you also normally didn’t have to spend long amounts of time in them. Spencer and you had been sent ahead to go check out a possible serial killer case, and the rest of the team would have followed once you had confirmed there were lives at stake. But now, instead of investigating, all you could do was aimlessly roam the hotel’s dull hallways, wishing for a change of scenery or at least, your own four walls. The only distraction and good thing in all of this was Spencer, who was doing an amazing job at keeping you sane. Being alone with your thoughts so much wasn’t exactly the best for your mental health, and if anyone in the world could understand that it was Spencer. He knew what it was like when your own thoughts became a weapon sharp enough to destroy you.

“Look at this idiot.” You chuckled and turned your phone so Spencer could see the picture Penelope had sent you. “He knows exactly that he’s not allowed on the kitchen counter.” Spencer smiled, zooming on the picture of your cat passed out in the sink. “Looks like you raised him well.” He teased, causing you to throw your napkin at him. “Hey! I’ll have you know that I am a very devoted cat mother.” You both laughed, only to be interrupted by the maid that was on breakfast duty. She sighed and sent you both a dreamy look before pulling out her notepad. “Such a sweet couple you two are, makes me miss my younger days. Can I bring you anything else?” Instead of telling her about the second tea you had been meaning to order you just blinked at her in shock. Spencer across from you seemed just as frozen, the two of you probably looking utterly stupid to the hotel’s staff member. She just rolled her eyes and started loading your plates onto her tray. “Not there yet? Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Once she was gone you both erupted into baffled laughter. It had been eight days in the hotel already, and you were slowly starting to make friends with the staff, but so far you hadn’t really been that close with them. Each day was a mere repetition of the one before, and you were barely clinging to the last shreds of normalcy and sanity anymore. Spencer and you met up for breakfast in the mornings, tried to work on the case for a bit just for the sake of feeling like you still had something meaningful to do, went to lunch, sought shelter in the tiny library that was mostly there for show, had dinner and then, sometimes, you went for a drink in the hotel lobby bar. The two of you were growing closer by the day. It was slowly beginning to feel like Spencer was just an extension of your own limbs instead of a whole different person. You had learned long ago that once Spencer felt comfortable around someone he latched onto them, but now it felt like your souls were truly melting together.

“There you are.” He spoke softly, sitting down across from you. You just acknowledged him with a smile, playing with the coaster of your drink. “I went ahead and ordered your favourite.” You mumbled and watched him nod. Spencer could tell something was off, feeling slightly helpless over how to help you. “You look awfully lost in thought today.” Surprised at his words you looked him in the eyes, not yet used to him being so tuned into your emotions. “I just-“ You stopped yourself to sigh heavily. “I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. I can’t sleep properly and when I do, I have these really vivid, weird dreams, I miss my apartment and my cat… this just isn’t exactly how I expected this case to go.” Spencer nodded in understanding. “According to a research centre in France, there has been a 35% increase in dream recall, and participants of the study are reporting 15% more negative dreams than usual. Dream experts believe that the withdrawal from our usual environments and daily stimuli forces our subconscious minds to transform the invisible virus into a lot of different things in our dreams. Actually, it’s perfectly normal to be having weird dreams right now. I have them too.” You felt a warm feeling bloom in your chest. Whenever your mind got the best of you these days Spencer was there to bring you back to reality again. He was the ratio to your emotio. “Thank you.”, you mumbled shyly. He smiled. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You need to get your mind off things.” Conveniently, your hotel rooms were right next to each other, so even after you parted ways for the night you didn’t feel too far from him. For some reason though, that specific night was the worst one for you since being quarantined in the hotel. Even after two hours of shifting you couldn’t find into the realms of sleep, despite feeling exhausted and drained from doing nothing all day. You finally decided to get up and make yourself a cup of tea, loudly stumbling over one of your shoes on the way to the electric kettle. You groaned when your behind met with the floor, not even the carpet properly cushioning your fall. Great. You had quite literally arrived at the bottom of things. A knock at the door ripped you out of your thoughts and, limping slightly, you made your way to your room’s entrance. When you opened the door your face was met with none other’s than Spencer’s, a worried look on his face. “Are you okay? I’ve been hearing you shift around for ages and then I heard a loud thump.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’m good. I just couldn’t sleep again and tripped on my way to make myself some tea.” He looked at you, something like worry in his eyes. And then, suddenly, he hugged you tightly. “Spence, what are you doing?” You asked with wide eyes, face smushed against his chest. “Did you know that hugging releases oxytocin? It’s a powerful hormone that works as an antidote for depressive feelings and anxiety. It also underlies individual and social trust. Hugs even affect our physical well being, for example by lowering our blood pressure. Scientifically-“ “Spencer, I love you, but for the love of god please shut up now.” You murmured, long having closed your eyes and leaned into his warm embrace. It was only then you realised what exactly you had just said. You felt him tense up. “You…” His hand on your back suddenly felt like it was going to burn through your skin. “You love me?” You leaned slightly away from him to look him in the face, surprised about your own words. “I think I do.” You spoke in wonder. Apparently, your subconscious had already known about your feelings for Spencer for way longer than your conscious self. But instead of answering, Spencer stepped away from you, a frazzled look on his face. “I… excuse me.” Helplessly, you watched him disappear back into his room, fear speeding up your heartbeat. What had just happened? Had the lockdown madness finally gotten to you? With trembling fingers, you closed your door behind you. That night you didn’t catch a minute of sleep.

The whole next day you couldn’t find Spencer anywhere. It seemed like he was actively hiding from you, and it made your chest hurt from rejection. He was smart and most of all he was your friend, you had really expected him to at least talk it out with you. But no, rather than that it seemed like he had never stepped foot into that damned hotel. It wasn’t until the late evening hours, when you had already gotten ready for bed, that you saw him again. He had knocked on your door, standing in front of you with an apologetic look on his face and three flowers clutched in one hand. They seemed oddly familiar to you, and at second glance you realised that he had stolen them from the hotel lobby. Before you could even begin to ask, he sent you a pleading look “Please, please don’t say anything right now. I want you to know exactly how I feel, and I practised it in the mirror but quite frankly I have never been this nervous in my life and I might forget something if you start speaking.” His voice was shaky, he was stumbling over his words like you had never seen him do before. “I’m sorry. For running off yesterday. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you this for the longest time and then you just said it so casually and for a moment all my fuses burnt through. I’m so in love with you and I am so terrified because I’ve never felt like this, and I know that once I tell you this it will be real, and my life will change forever. I didn’t think there was a person out there like you, a person for me. There is no scientific proof for soulmates but you just… fit with me. I love you too, (Y/N). I love you.” His words had rendered you speechless. You felt tears run down your cheeks, and it was only when you felt Spencer’s hand wipe them away that you returned to reality. You placed your hand on his, further leaning into his touch, and sobbed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. This isn’t really my strong suit.” You laughed and pressed a kiss to his hand. “It’s not mine either. And don’t worry Spence, you were perfect. Thank you for having the courage to tell me. Just please, never run off on me like that again.” He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, a serene smile on his lips. “I promise.”

From there on, the rest of quarantine passed by incredibly quick. Now, you were actually glad you were locked in with Spencer. It gave the two of you the perfect time and opportunity to explore the very nature of your relationship. You started sleeping over in each other’s rooms, wearing each other’s clothes, at night Spencer lulled you to sleep by reading to you. When Hotch called once the two weeks were over to tell you that you would be able to return home with the jet you were almost disappointed. But at least this you could board the jet holding each other’s hands without worrying about anyone seeing. And it wasn’t too bad either that you had had your first time with each other and joined the mile-high club at the same time. You were never going to be able to look at those leather couches the same way again. Touched down back home in Quantico you had the orders to return straight home and quarantine for another fourteen days. Stood in front of your car you could tell that the two of you were trying to prolong your time together, rambling on about the most random things just to avoid having to say goodbye for two weeks. But watching him walk away after one last, long kiss filled your heart with such aching that you called out for him to stop. “Wait, Spence!” He turned around, an almost relieved look on his face. “Yeah?” He walked back to you, gripping the strap of his bag. “I know this is crazy, and maybe it’s too much considering we haven’t even officially talked about whether or not we’re dating now but… I just… hate the thought of suddenly not seeing you for two weeks straight after seeing your cute face every day for what feels like so long. So… do you want to quarantine at my apartment? We can get some of your clothes on the way there, and I promise I’ll cook whatever you want. I just don’t want to miss your morning cuddles anymore.” A wide smile had spread across his features while you had talked, and before you had even fully finished he had already nodded enthusiastically. “Thank god you asked, I didn’t know how to.” Both laughing, you got into your car.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Morgan groaned when he saw you and Spencer enter the BAU together once quarantine was over. You didn’t even have to hold hands for everyone to see that you were a couple now. “When did they start dating??” Emily looked at you with a grin, crossing her arms. “Technically, it doesn’t look like they started dating. They were just locked in together for so long that they fell in love.” Hotch joined your little group, the usual frown on his face. “Enough about the lovebirds, we have a case to get to. But-“ He turned to look at you and suddenly there was a teasing grin on his face as well. “Looks like quarantine treated you well, right?” You just rolled your eyes, burying your face in your hands. “Not you too, Hotch, not you too!”

Spencer actually didn’t even end up leaving your apartment once quarantine was over. In fact, he had gotten so comfortable that after two months, he terminated the contract for his own flat. Now, every Sunday morning, it wasn’t just you spread out on your couch with your cat anymore. It was the two of you.

#requested #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #mgg #Matthew gray gubler #Matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds #BAU #BAU Team #BAU x Reader #prompts

509 notes · View notes

tinybibmpreg · 3 years

Text

prompt fill 7/80 - #11 - Have you seen the rest of their family? ft. Prince Richard Silvers, Klaude & Ezekiel Goldsborough (plus their father), and Elizabeth Valentine

oh boy this one is long. Richard and Klaude (and ezekiel and elizabeth) are characters i made years ago and wrote a bunch of stories for, but i never finished any of them. i do wanna rewrite those because i like them still lol. but have this new fresh thing with them instead, featuring both of the Goldsborough boys knocked up by their respective partners lmao

Silvers: Reunion

“Have you seen the rest of their family?” Richard asked, leaning in close to Elizabeth as they were escorted into the Goldsborough manor. “Klaude mentions his older brother and father sometimes in his letters, but I have no clue what they look like or what they're like.”

The younger woman shook her head, looking terribly nervous as they entered the huge house. She glanced around and fidgeted with a ring on her middle finger. “Ezekiel showed me a picture of his mom once back at the academy… but she passed away when he was a child, so I don't think that helps. Ezekiel mostly talks about Klaude when he mentions family.”

“Damn. That totally sucks. I should have done research. I don't even know anyone's names.” He hadn't been nervous about coming to stay with Klaude at his family’s estate at first. But now upon realizing he was going to seem foolish and uncaring, his usual confidence was dwindling away. He didn't want Klaude to think he wasn't interested in the rest of his family, to give him any reason to suspect he hadn't wanted to show up.

When getting married, one was supposed to be at least familiar with one’s partner’s family.

He'd just been so desperate to see his fiancé again that he'd bypassed everything else.

“Well, their dad’s name is Raoul, and their older brother is Manson,” Elizabeth said. “Ezekiel calls his two sisters by nicknames, but they live with their spouses so they shouldn't be here.”

“They have sisters?”

“Yes. It goes Manson, Klaude, Hattie, Lin, and Ezekiel.”

Richard chuckled a bit. “Zeke’s the family baby, huh?”

“Their sisters have kids, so those are the family babies…”

Why did Klaude have to be so tight-lipped about everything? He hadn't mentioned being an uncle, or that he even had sisters.

They were escorted through an entrance hall to a large study. Richard perked up as they walked in, but their escorts left them with just Klaude and Ezekiel’s father. There was no sign of the brothers. Richard struggled to keep from deflating. Elizabeth’s fidgeting increased.

“Ah, Prince Silvers, Miss Valentine. Welcome to my home. Was your trip pleasant?”

Richard took over the conversation before Elizabeth could have a chance, giving her time to calm her nerves. “It's wonderful to be here. Our trip from the Silvers Kingdom went smoothly, if not a bit slowly for my tastes.”

“I'm sure the two of you were eager to be here.” Though Lord Goldsborough sounded pleasant enough and had a small smile on his face, the look in his eyes was anything but friendly and welcoming. Richard couldn't blame him, considering the circumstances of why they were there. He applauded the man for being so composed. If the situation were reversed, his own father would have been livid. “Your sister, Princess Ronella, is not with you?” the man asked.

“She is back at the Silvers Palace, studying. Miss Valentine is now capable of providing the magic I need, so my sister doesn't have to trouble herself following at my heels wherever I may go.”

“I'm sure it's no trouble, helping her brother.”

“We adore each other, but circumstances kept her from her proper education. I'm glad she's able to return to her schooling at home and to spend time with her mother, as young girls should.”

“Indeed. And things have settled, in your kingdom?”

“Very. It is peaceful at last, and the people flourish. Miss Valentine was a wonderful help to my father and king and I.” Elizabeth jumped a bit, stuttering that she had just tried her best. Richard gave her a side-eye glance and patted her arm. “Without her magic, I may not have been able to come and pay my respects to you, Lord Goldsborough, and I would not be able to see Klaude again.”

“Thank goodness for Miss Valentine then. Klaude and Ezekiel are eager to see the both of you later.”

“A-are they doing well?” Elizabeth asked.

Lord Goldsborough gave them both a strained smile. Richard vowed to himself that he would find some way to apologize to the man, on behalf of himself and Elizabeth, but mostly himself. He was sure Lord Goldsborough would be more forgiving of Elizabeth, a sweet girl who hadn't intended to defile his youngest son. Richard knew that on the other hand, he'd caused a full-blown scandal, and the blame for it laid mostly on him. Now Lord Goldsborough had to rush to arrange a wedding between his second eldest son and the crown prince of a large empire, whereas Elizabeth and Ezekiel had a bit of time and far less prominence.

“They're both doing well. Klaude will be especially glad for your arrival, Prince Silvers. He has yet to give birth, though the doctors say he is due any day now.”

“I'm relieved I could make it in time before the birth,” Richard told him. “Is Klaude here? Ah, and Ezekiel as well?” he asked.

Lord Goldsborough took a seat on a fine chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You’ve both had a long journey. Why don’t you sit and have some refreshments? Klaude is resting, but I’m sure he’ll be up later in time for dinner.”

They’d been sitting on a train for hours and had eaten right before arriving so they wouldn’t have anything in the way of seeing Klaude and Ezekiel right when they arrived, so Richard absolutely did not want to sit again. However, he had to be polite. It wouldn’t do for a prince of his standing to turn down his host, especially not after his sister had drilled it into him that he had to actually behave like a royal while around nobles.

So he gestured for Elizabeth to sit at the end of a loveseat and took a seat on the cushion next to her even though he felt like Lord Goldsborough was purposefully keeping them from seeing his sons. “Thank you, Lord Goldsborough. We’d love some refreshments after our trip.”

“I’ll go ask a maid to bring some tea. Then we can discuss a few important matters.”

“Of course. Whatever you’d like.”

Lord Goldsborough stood and left to speak to one of the servants they’d passed on their way to the room. As soon as he’d left the room, Elizabeth turned to Richard and said, “I wonder why we can’t see Ezekiel… he said Klaude was resting, but he hardly mentioned Zeke…”

Richard slumped back and scoffed. “He’s not letting us see them yet because he hates us, Elizabeth.”

“Wh- what?!” she cried. He shushed her and glanced back at the doorway. Though frazzled, she quieted down and asked, “Why do you think that? Does he really hate us?”

“Of course he does,” Richard replied. He shrugged and looked around the room. Nothing caught his eye. All the decorations and furniture were standard for a nobleman’s manor, all expensive but impersonal items to show off wealth to any guests. Elizabeth looked even more anxious, so Richard explained, “Elizabeth, two of his sons are carrying our children, children conceived out of wedlock. His youngest is pregnant with a commoner girl’s child, and his second eldest is about to give birth to a foreign crown prince’s illegitimate firstborn. It’s a huge scandal for the family, especially with us being gone for six months. We can’t even marry early and try to conceal what happened. Klaude is due any day and Ezekiel is what? Almost eight months along?”

“Y-yes, almost eight… I can see what you mean, now… I never thought about it like that. I hope Zeke’s been alright. He was so worried when he found out about the baby, and then I had to leave and it took so long for us to come back. I hope he hasn’t been stressed out about a scandal.”

Richard waved her concerns off. “Eh, Ezekiel’s probably not too affected by that. Klaude and I are the ones with the major scandal.” Which Klaude had complained plenty about in his letters, even saying that he’d once nearly punched one of his relatives for making a comment about the baby being illegitimate. Richard had thought that meant his older brother and Klaude was just wording it strangely, but now he wondered if it was a brother-in-law that had asked Klaude how he felt about carrying a future bastard king.

If he could figure out which relative had said it, maybe he could humiliate them with a spell of some sort and make Klaude laugh. It was hard to get Klaude to fully laugh, and he loved whenever he managed it. Surely a good bit of revenge would work.

He hoped that Klaude’s father wouldn’t keep them apart for too long. Though he understood why Lord Goldsborough wanted them away from his sons, he missed Klaude and was impatient to see him again. It’d been a bit miserable back at home without Klaude to talk to every day. He missed spending time with the man and devoting his time to getting his cold exterior to crack. Those moments when he got to see Klaude’s softer, affectionate side… Moments he knew he was seeing a part of Klaude no one else got to see. He’d really missed them dearly.

Richard was also quite eager to see how Klaude looked, heavy with his child, ready to deliver any day. Klaude’s belly had been noticeably rounded out when he’d last seen him, a small swell that Richard could hardly take his hands off of. Having seen a few other full-term people before, it wasn’t difficult to imagine a full belly and swollen breasts on Klaude. And it was just as easy to imagine him still fitting into his typical formal and well-tailored clothes, even being nine months pregnant.

He sighed, wishing he could lean against his arm or bounce his leg. It was killing him to be patient.

Still, the image of Klaude and the good memories of spending time with him would have to remain just in his fantasy for now, until dinner. It would be rude of Lord Goldsborough not to have all of his family within the estate present at dinner when they had a guest of such high standing. At least Richard could count on that, that the nobleman wouldn’t dare to break the rules of high society in front of the heir of a kingdom much larger and far richer and more prosperous than his own country.

Glancing at Elizabeth, who was now solely focused on fidgeting with the spinning rings Richard had ordered to be made for her, he wondered if she was thinking of the same thing. Ezekiel was a bit too sweet-looking and gangly for his own tastes, but he imagined that being pregnant had filled the scrawny young man out and given him a healthier flush to his usual pallor. Certainly, it would suit him.

Richard told himself it was to help snap Elizabeth out of her anxious state, but he just really wanted to tease her to take his mind off of not being able to see Klaude yet as he asked, “So, how do you think Ezekiel looks?”

“Hm?” Elizabeth’s head shot up. Richard reached over and tried to fix her hair so it wasn’t so messy. He and his sister had tried to get her to stop looking so ruffled, but no matter what they did Elizabeth always looked like she’d been caught in the wind or had fallen. “What do you mean? He should look like he usually does… just, um, pr-pregnant.”

“Exactly. Klaude’s told me in his letters that he’s blaming me for how much sweets he’s been craving. Do you think Ezekiel’s indulging?”

She latched onto the wrong thing. “But you hate sweets…?”

“Beth. I have been utterly consumed with thinking about how I’m going to be putting my hands on every inch of Klaude’s heavy belly, and on everything else that’s changed with the pregnancy. You haven’t been thinking the same of Ezekiel?”

“Pr-Prince!” She covered her mouth with her hands, flustered.

“He’s always been a skinny little thing, and you’re a big girl. I bet he’s huge. I bet his breasts are nice and large as well, to feed the big baby you stuck in him.”

“I don’t get how you can say stuff like that with a straight face, Prince!” she squeaked. “Why do you always tease me like that?”

“You’re so easy, that’s why. Come on, haven’t you been thinking about it?”

“Of course I have! But I wouldn’t say it out loud!” Richard put a finger over his lips to shush her and she glared at him. “Prince…!”

Before he could keep teasing her, he heard footsteps. Richard looked behind them at the doorway and Lord Goldsborough returned, followed by a maid holding a tray with tea. Richard straightened up, putting on a charming smile.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. I had to attend to something,” Lord Goldsborough said as he took his seat again.

“Not at all.” Richard took a cup of tea and waved away the maid when she offered milk and honey. He waited for Elizabeth and Lord Goldsborough to take their own cups before taking a sip. Then, he asked, “What was it that you wished to discuss?”

Lord Goldsborough set down his cup and put his hands on his lap. “I was hoping to take this time to discuss matters relating to your engagement with my son, about the wedding, Prince Silvers.”

Elizabeth took a sip of her tea to keep from reacting. Richard had no doubt she was remembering his many rants the past few months about how he didn’t care what they did for the wedding, that Klaude could handle that since it was going to be a wedding with Klaude’s country’s traditions. Richard would simply follow along, as anything would make him happy as long as Klaude was satisfied with it.

He wished he could say that to Lord Goldsborough, but didn’t think the man would enjoy hearing that Richard wouldn’t care if Klaude just wanted to sign a paper and go on with married life or if he wanted to consummate the marriage in front of everyone.

Definitely, he didn’t think Klaude’s father would want to hear that.

So he didn’t mention anything like that. “I’d love to discuss it. But shouldn’t wedding arrangements be made with Klaude…?”

“The family typically arranges things, and I have discussed things with my son in length the past few months. But since you’re a member of royalty, we would like to include you in arrangements, so as to avoid offending you or your kingdom.”

Richard did not mention that if Lord Goldsborough tried to discuss a wedding with his father or even anyone else in the royal court, that he would get laughed at and told the whole ordeal was ridiculous. He did not want to mention the words ‘concubine’ or ‘royal consort’ to Klaude’s father to explain that in his kingdom, Klaude would most certainly not be referred to as his husband no matter what their marital status was.

“Klaude has briefly mentioned to me how a typical wedding would proceed for your family. It all sounds quite agreeable.”

“Yes, he’s said you agreed with the procedures. But the details, rather, is what we would like your input on.”

“I’m sure whatever you have planned will be perfect! I don’t want to cause any difficulties when I know there is a limited amount of time to prepare things…”

Lord Goldsborough exhaled slowly. “It would be no trouble to fulfill your desires for the wedding… The staff is quite capable. And there is plenty of time to prepare.”

“But isn’t Klaude going to give birth any day now?” Elizabeth asked, and Richard wanted to take her aside and shake her for not listening to his sister’s social etiquette lessons. Somehow, Ronella would find out she’d spoken out of place, and he would be the one to get scolded for not looking out for Elizabeth.

Her question further strained the nobleman’s smile. It looked painful, how forced it was.

Richard wished he knew how to endear himself to Lord Goldsborough to make things easier on him. However, Elizabeth’s question made that impossible, driving it in that Richard was the reason he would be needing to prepare a wedding as quickly as possible.

At the awkward silence that followed, Elizabeth continued, saying, “If a wedding is difficult, then why not just have a small ceremony with an official? It’ll be quick and effective…”

“That’s preposterous. A small ceremony and impersonal signing before an official would be unthinkable for the Goldsborough family. And it would be offensive when Klaude is marrying a man of such high standing.”

“I guess it would be different than what a noble family is used to… but it wouldn’t be offensive. The royals in the Silvers kingdom don’t get married like people do here in Merlynd.”

“Yes, I’m sure their wedding customs are very different.”

Richard silently prayed to his patron goddess that Elizabeth wouldn’t mention that the kings of the Silvers kingdom didn’t have marriages, just accepted consorts that would bear children that would later be legitimized by the royal court.

His prayer went unanswered. She immediately replied, “The heirs and kings don’t get married at all, though.”

“What?”

Richard tried to salvage things, “While it’s true that we don’t get married in the sense that the people of Merlynd do, we do…” He had no idea what word to use in place of taking consorts or lovers. His pause made things worse.

Elizabeth seemed to realize that she shouldn’t have brought it up, leaning in towards Richard and asking in a whisper, “Is it not good to bring up royal consorts, or…?”

“Consorts,” Lord Goldsborough repeated, aghast. “You don’t take a husband or wife?”

“Klaude will be my husband according to Merlynic law, and I will personally consider him as such,” Richard assured.

That didn’t assure his future father-in-law. “And your kingdom will consider my son and his child as…?”

He avoided answering. “Merlynic law doesn’t apply in the Silvers Kingdom. But the concept of illegitimacy is very different and has nothing to do with marriage, in my kingdom. The term ‘bastard’ has no meaning. It will not matter to the royal court or to my father whether my child is presented for acceptance the moment after naming them or even years later.”

It was clear that Lord Goldsborough wanted to ask more about that, but he refrained, instead returning to his original topic. “Regardless… what would be your preferences for the foods that will be served at the wedding?”

Richard internally groaned. He hated details. At home, the kitchen would come up with things, and a list would be submitted to his father for approval. Sometimes Richard would suggest a meal if he wanted something, but his ideas were only ever one among the many ideas put forth by the staff.

How could Klaude’s father want to micromanage everything? Still, he had no choice but to go along with the tedious conversation.

He hoped that Klaude really was busy resting and was getting plenty of good sleep. At least then it wouldn’t be so bad, wasting his time discussing wedding details he was sure wouldn’t even come to fruition because of how quickly the wedding was to be thrown together now that he’d arrived.

“What do you mean Richard has been here for an hour already talking to my father?” Klaude snapped at a servant. “I told my father I wanted to be alerted as soon as he knew when Richard was going to arrive or did arrive.”

“F-forgive me, Master Klaude,” the servant stammered, wilting under his harsh glare. “Lord Goldsborough asked that no one tell you nor Ezekiel until after he finished speaking with Prince Silvers and his companion.”

“His companion? Is Elizabeth Valentine not here?”

His brother looked upset, standing and bringing his hands to his chest. “Elizabeth didn’t come with Prince Silvers?”

“Please don’t be upset, Master Ezekiel. I’m sorry, Master Klaude… I don’t know who his companion is.”

“Is it Princess Ronella?” There was no one else Richard would come alone with.

“N-no! It’s not a princess. It’s a woman with strange eyes.”

Ezekiel sighed in relief while Klaude was briefly confused. “It is Elizabeth, then. Thank goodness,” his brother said with a smile.

Klaude ignored Ezekiel and demanded of the servant, “Why did my father order such a thing?”

“Lord Goldsborough didn’t say. But he looked quite unhappy, Master Klaude.”

He scoffed. “Of course Father is unhappy. I’m also unhappy about the current state of things.” Ezekiel rolled his eyes and Klaude grit his teeth, turning his sharp glare towards his brother. There was no way he would ever admit that he was anxious to see Richard and upset that their father was trying to keep them apart. I’m certainly not upset! Klaude thought. It was the principle of things. It was rude of his father to deny his future son-in-law and daughter-in-law the chance to see their fiancés after their long travel just to be with them. He turned back to the servant. “But that’s no reason to keep Richard and Elizabeth Valentine away from us. Where are they?” he asked.

Gulping, the servant told them where their father and their guests were. Klaude grabbed Ezekiel’s arm and dragged him along.

Richard was considering faking illness to get out of discussing wedding decorations with Lord Goldsborough. It wouldn’t be hard to fake a cough and act like he was trying to hide being in pain. He was sure Elizabeth would freak out and convince the nobleman, and he could ask for privacy while Elizabeth gave him some excess magic, then explain to the woman that he was just pretending. It would probably work, provided that Klaude had told his father about his illness. He was sure that at least Ezekiel would have mentioned it. After all, the only reason why Elizabeth hadn’t stayed with her boyfriend through his pregnancy so far was that she was in the Silvers kingdom helping him and his father recover from the major spell they had cast. Or in Richard’s case, was still casting.

As Lord Goldsborough droned on and on about what traditional Merlynd weddings had, Richard wondered if Ezekiel was upset with him for keeping Elizabeth in the Silvers Kingdom for so long. Even though she had greatly helped Richard’s father and saved Richard’s life, he thought the young mage might still resent him a bit.

Ezekiel could hate him, for all Richard cared. He was glad to no longer be dying, and relished being able to get through the night without choking on blood from a decaying throat and that he was able to eat with far less pain.

“Another thing, Prince Silvers,” Lord Goldsborough started, and Richard got ready to start coughing.

Neither of them could continue though, as a raised and angry voice barked, “Father! I told you I wanted to be there to greet Prince Silvers and Elizabeth Valentine!”

Richard snapped his head around to see Klaude pulling his brother by the arm towards the doorway. A servant was walking alongside them, worried. But Richard’s focus went straight to Klaude.

“What are you doing here, sons? I told the servants I wanted to speak privately to our guests-”

“Thank you for this blessing, my Goddess,” Richard clasped his hands together and prayed quietly. He could hardly believe his eyes.

While he’d expected Klaude to have a heavy belly and a somewhat swollen chest, he’d been using the average expectant person as a basis for his mental picture of what he imagined Klaude to look like. With Klaude being so tall and broad, he’d also imagined that while his almost due belly would be large, it wouldn’t be as prominent as it would be on a smaller, slimmer person.

Klaude, in a sweater that clung to his figure and fought to keep him covered, was huge. He waddled towards the doorway slowly, a hand hooked under his massive belly that was in no way only carrying one child. He was expecting at least hefty twins. And not only was he clearly carrying twins, but it was obvious Klaude had been indulging in more than the occasional craving for sweets that he’d complained about. He’d filled out wonderfully, all curves where he’d once been simply muscular. His overstretched clothing left nothing to the imagination.

“How could you forbid the servants from letting us even know that our fiancés had arrived? It’s not very discreet of you-”

Ezekiel waved to Elizabeth, a shy smile on his face. Elizabeth waved back.

Richard swallowed hard, drinking in how gorgeous Klaude looked. His blond hair was thick and shiny, longer than Klaude usually kept it, allowing it to look fluffier than it used to. His hips, already what Richard had teased were perfectly child-bearing size, had widened, and his ass and thighs had grown with them. He didn’t let himself think too long about what his fiancé would look like stripped naked, flushed and full and no doubt covered in stretchmarks- Richard didn’t think he could take it. It was a fight not to open his mouth and say something stupid.

“My great Goddess…” Richard murmured, seeing how Klaude’s broad pecs that had started softening six months ago had grown into a proper pair of breasts. Klaude had hated when he tried to get his mouth on them before he’d really started producing milk. Richard had a feeling the next few days were either going to be absolutely thrilling or incredibly annoying to Klaude once he got his hands on him in a private room.

He spared a look at Ezekiel. As he’d imagined, the young man sported a normal eight months pregnant belly, which stuck out obviously on his thin frame. He’d filled out somewhat, now looking healthy instead of underweight, and there was more color to his face. Elizabeth was sure to be happy, at least.

Richard looked back at Klaude. As he argued with his father, his sweater rode up a bit. He was wearing something underneath, but it still made Richard feel like he was going to burst. He grabbed Elizabeth’s arm before he could explode and make Klaude hate him. “Elizabeth,” he hissed, “-Though I was teasing you before, I really just wanted to spend time with Klaude, not immediately get my hands on him, by the Divine, Klaude is so enormous and sexy. Don’t let me say something vulgar to him.”

“Uh… um, well, don’t say that to him? Goodness, he is very big, though. It might upset him.”

“Elizabeth. I’m going to die when I get my hands on him. I’m going to die if we don’t find a private room soon so I can make up for not being around to see him transform into the divine being he is now.”

She tried half-heartedly to pull away, then sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t say those kinds of things to me. The past six months have been… something else.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to about this.”

“But you sound uncouth,” she whispered back. To herself, she lamented, “I can’t believe I got used to you talking like this when it’s not teasing. I should be embarrassed.”

Teasing! Maybe that would make her understand how he was feeling. “Come on. You know you’re going to fuck Ezekiel as soon as you’re alone.”

She blushed. “We’re saving it for marriage!”

“I don’t understand you Merlynics at all. Klaude and I will be consumed with passion until you or Ezekiel drag us out for the wedding, and then we’ll be back at it until he goes into labor. In true Silvers fashion, I won’t miss a moment of these last few days. Do you think I saw my father at all before his second consort had Ronella?”

“Prince Richard, I don’t want to hear that,” she cried quietly. “Please calm down.”

Klaude had finally gotten to the doorway, but his father was using his whole body to block him, holding onto the doorway with both hands. Seeing his fiancé even closer was maddening. After six months without him, and now this-

Richard squeezed Elizabeth’s arm tight, desperate. “Seeing Klaude so hugely pregnant is without a doubt the most arousing thing I have ever witnessed. I am utterly consumed by him right now. If I don’t get my hands on him soon I am going to be sick. I am being deprived of divinity. Elizabeth-”

“I’m sure Klaude has missed you too, but really, Prince Richard. He’s right there and he’s looking at you, please contain yourself.”

“I might just have to shove you all out of the room and take him right here. I don’t think I can wait.”

“Richard!” Klaude cried. “You are completely disgusting! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”

Richard’s heart dropped. He turned to look at Klaude, who had paused in trying to get past his father to stand stiff and red-faced. His father looked horrified, standing aside, and Ezekiel was covering his face with his hands.

“Klaude, my love, I-”

His fiancé took a few steps forward. “Shut up! What in the world is wrong with you, saying such- such depraved things in front of my family and Elizabeth?!”

“H-how much did you hear?” It wasn’t so horrible, surely, for Lord Goldsborough and Ezekiel to hear the last bit he’d said about having sex with Klaude in the study.

“You want me to repeat it?!” Klaude snarled, fists clenched at his side. “You’re sick!”

“The, uh, seeing my brother so… hugely pregnant and it being, er, arousing. That,” Ezekiel answered.

Klaude turned to stare at his brother, humiliation on his face. He huffed and hissed, “I can’t believe I actually wanted to see you!” Then, he stormed off as quickly as his pronounced waddling gait allowed, shoving past his father and brother.

“W-wait, Klaude! I’m sorry! You just look so perfect like this!”

“I hate you!” Klaude shouted back, voice cracking, not even turning to look.

Richard tried to get up. “Klaude! Please wait!” Elizabeth grabbed him and pulled him back down before he could take off after Klaude.

“Prince Richard! Don’t make things worse,” she begged. “Take a minute to settle down.”

“Argh!” Richard yelled, slumping against the back of the couch. “I can’t believe I said all that out loud!”

Lord Goldsborough cleared his throat. “Well,” he said awkwardly, “-I’m just going to make the rest of the arrangements on my own. Ezekiel, son, I’ll be in my personal study if you or your brother need me. Prince Silvers, if you require anything, my servants are at your disposal.” With that, the nobleman took off, sighing heavily as he left the room.

Ezekiel watched him go, then turned to Elizabeth with a big smile on his face. “Beth!”

Elizabeth, finally free from Richard’s grasp, got up and hurried up to him. “Zeke! I missed you so much!” She pulled him into a hug, careful not to squeeze his belly. “Are you alright? Have you been handling things okay?”

“I’m doing well. I’ve missed you too, Beth.” His eyes grew wet. “I’m so happy to have you with me again. I loved all your letters, but it wasn’t the same as having you here… I know your work in the Silvers kingdom was very important, but I still wished you were by my side every day.”

“Oh, Zeke… I’m here now! I’m never going to leave you or the baby for so long again. I mean, unless Prince Richard starts dying or something… He’s our friend, I would help him. It wouldn’t take six months again though, now that I know what to do to help him, um…”

“O-oh, yes, of course! Um, it’s nice to see you as well, Prince Silvers,” Ezekiel said to Richard.

The prince sighed. “Just ignore me and keep going with your cute reunion, Ezekiel. Don’t worry.”

“You look upset…”

“I’ll be fine soon once I figure out how to apologize to Klaude. Pretend I’m not here.” Richard waved them off, even though he felt incredibly jealous that Elizabeth got to have such a loving reunion with her fiancé. “Did Elizabeth write to you about how she’d cry sometimes because she worried about you so much?” he prompted.

“Beth…!” Ezekiel looked up at her, eyes filling with tears. He reached up to wipe them. “S-sorry, I’ve been so emotional… Oh, but you really worried so much?”

“Y-yeah, of course!”

Richard buried his face against the couch, pulling a cushion over himself.

After plenty of tears, sweet stories, and lots of hugging and chaste kisses that indeed made Richard rather jealous, Ezekiel and Elizabeth turned their attention to the prince again. Ezekiel peered over the edge of the couch. Richard looked up at him from where he was laying down holding onto a pillow. Seeing Ezekiel looking at him, he thought to himself that he was very lucky to have gotten with Klaude instead of his younger brother. Ezekiel’s cherubic features and timid attitude did nothing for him.

Truly, he and Elizabeth were a perfect match. Of course, he and Klaude were also a perfect match, even if Klaude hated him sometimes.

“Hello, Ezekiel.”

“Have you thought of how to apologize to my brother yet?”

In response, Richard pulled the cushion onto his face. He heard Ezekiel whisper something to Elizabeth.

Then, Ezekiel said, “You know, Klaude has really missed you. He tried to hide it, but he’s told me how much he was looking forward to you coming back, and how worried he was about you and your illness, especially when it got worse. It really scared him.”

Richard pulled the cushion down and sat up. He gave Ezekiel a confused look. “I never told Klaude about my illness getting worse. He knew about me coughing up a little blood before my father and king called me home, but I always said I was doing well in my letters to him. I didn’t want him to worry.”

Elizabeth frowned, tapping her fingers together. “I, uh… mentioned it in my letters to Ezekiel, since I kept him updated on how things were going so we could guess when I’d be coming home.”

Ezekiel rubbed the back of his neck. “And I showed Klaude those letters.”

“Why would you do that?” Richard asked.

“I thought he deserved to know, in case…”

In case he’d taken a turn for the worse. In case he’d died. “Oh.” Richard felt guilty, now that he thought about it. What if he’d ended up like his father, in a coma? His father had woken up after a few weeks and only now thanks to Elizabeth no longer required months of bed rest, but Richard knew in his case if he had ever tried to stop casting his spell or had been forced to, that he would have never woken up. Of course, it was highly unlikely he would have been lucky enough to end up in a coma. If his illness had progressed to the point that he couldn’t cast his spell, he would have most certainly just died. Probably on the spot.

If that had happened, and Ezekiel hadn’t been telling Klaude- if he’d believed that things were always going well like Richard had been assuring in all of his letters, then him dying would have come from nowhere. It would have caused a problem, then, if Ezekiel had known but hadn’t warned his brother.

With Ezekiel telling his brother about all of Elizabeth’s updates, but with his own letters assuring that nothing was wrong, Richard wondered if Klaude had thought things were even worse than they were. If he had someone telling him Klaude was ill, but Klaude saying he wasn’t, he would suspect that Klaude was far more ill than he was being told. And with Klaude knowing that Elizabeth was a bit oblivious at times and not very good at picking up on secrets, and knowing that his brother hated to upset him, it was safe to bet that Klaude had assumed whatever Ezekiel said was at least half as bad as what was really wrong.

“By the Divine…” Richard mumbled. If Klaude had spent the past six months worrying about his health while also dealing with a twin pregnancy by himself, it was no wonder he’d reacted badly to Richard being a fool in front of him. Though it certainly wasn’t his intention, knowing how Klaude took things, his fiancé had most likely thought that he didn’t care about his feelings.

He really needed to work on letting Klaude know he really did love him, and not just physically. It was hard, though, with how excited he got being around him. He made a fool of himself and spoke like he was flirting or started saying outright vulgar things. Even in other matters, his sister and father had scolded him for sounding too sarcastic or playful or being rude.

Well, he couldn’t help that his default was being very happy all the time. Maybe he could annoy Klaude into believing him by repeating that he loved him for more than his body so many times that it would infuriate him.

“Please don’t try to talk things out with my brother by driving him crazy until he screams at you and has no choice but to give up and believe you,” Ezekiel pleaded.

“How did you-”

“Prince Richard, we know you. We’re friends. You’ve done it before. I know it works, but it stresses Klaude out. And Father and Klaude will be very upset if you stress him out too much. Klaude actually wants to have a semi-normal wedding before he gives birth.”

“So try to come up with something else, okay? Klaude is probably stressed out now…” Elizabeth added. “Do you want us to come along as support?”

“If you come along I’ll default to teasing you and Klaude will think I’m not being serious.”

“He knows you’re never serious,” Ezekiel assured. “He gets over it.”

Richard stood up and pouted. “But I want him to know I really am being serious this time!”

Elizabeth came and patted his back. “Give it a good try!”

“I will!” He headed for the door but stopped two steps out of it. He turned to Ezekiel. “Uh, where do you think Klaude is?”

“I’ll take you to his room.”

Ezekiel brought Richard to his brother’s bedroom door and then left with Elizabeth to his own room. Richard knocked on the door and then pushed it open. Klaude never welcomed him into a room, even if he wasn’t upset with him.

“Klaude?” he asked, stepping into the room.

There was a sniffle, and then Klaude answered, “Richard?” The man was sitting on a small sofa placed underneath a window that had its thick curtains drawn. He had a handkerchief in one hand that he was holding up to his tear-stained face. His other hand was on his heavy belly, rubbing circles against it. “What are you doing here?”

Richard forced down his shock at seeing Klaude crying. “I came to apologize for how I acted earlier.”

Klaude scoffed and looked away from him. “Of course.”

“I got too excited. I, uh, didn’t expect to see you… expecting more than one child?”

“I’m carrying twins,” Klaude confirmed. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It was very surprising.” Richard hadn’t expected that from Klaude. The blond wasn’t fond of surprises. He set that aside for later. “I’m sorry I embarrassed and upset you. I was thrilled to see you. I’m very happy to see you again. I missed you a lot.”

“...I missed you as well.” Klaude dabbed at his eyes.

Richard went and sat next to him. With his thumb, he brushed under Klaude’s eyes. Taking Klaude’s other hand, he continued, “And I’m sorry I lied to you in my letters. I should have told you when I was ill.”

Klaude crumpled, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

Bringing up Klaude’s hand, Richard pressed his lips to it. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know Elizabeth was telling Ezekiel everything. That he was telling you. I should have been telling you myself, so you knew exactly what was happening.”

“I- I thought you would die. Elizabeth said you might have to stop your magic, but that- And you were gone for so long. When I heard things were settled in the Silvers kingdom, but neither of you mentioned coming back…” Klaude sobbed a bit. “I thought you might not…”

“There was a point where it got so bad my father considered having me break the spell when I couldn’t breathe properly or eat at all, but Elizabeth figured out how to help, and I got better. I’m better than I’ve ever been since my illness first started.” Richard wrapped an arm around Klaude and pulled him close. Klaude rested his head against his chest. “It’s not completely healed, it won’t be unless I can somehow break the spell and sleep again. But Elizabeth healed the damage it caused, and due to reforms I could release a portion of people to lessen the spell, and with Elizabeth’s excess magic, the spell causes far less damage. There’s no more blood, and I can eat without much pain.”

Klaude made a small noise and nodded against him. Richard squeezed his hand.

“I really did miss you. It was lonely, not having you to talk to. Not being able to chip at your shell until you snap at me or I manage to make you laugh. Not being there with you for our children.” He rubbed Klaude’s belly. “I regret that I couldn't be with you for most of the pregnancy.”

“You're here. I was so scared that you wouldn’t come back to me. That's all I’ve wanted.” Klaude’s hand came to rest on top of Richard’s own. Richard kissed the top of his head, closing his eyes and relishing the weight and warmth of Klaude in his arms. It wasn't often that he got to hold him, not with Klaude’s height and usual aversion to affection. And he was enjoying it.

Klaude sighed, relaxing against him. His breathing evened out and slowed. Richard rubbed lazy circles against the side of his belly. He hoped he'd be able to touch him without any layers of clothing in the way, but he didn't want to ruin their moment.

Before he'd left, Klaude rarely wanted to cuddle with him. Now that Richard had him dozing off in his arms, he never wanted him to leave. It was wonderful. He hoped that Klaude would want more affection from then on. Maybe being pregnant and worrying about losing him would make Klaude a bit clingy.

Richard made a mental note to pray for it, and to pray that their children would enjoy extra affection as well. Though he adored Klaude and loved the challenge of breaking through his serious exterior, he wasn't sure if he had the energy to wear at two more Klaudes. While he certainly had the determination to, it might not be matched by what he was physically capable of.

The children were bound to take after him in some way, surely.

Resting his cheek against Klaude’s head, Richard exhaled and thought to himself that he was very thankful to be back with his fiancé after so long. He wasn't sure how he had managed.

He wished he could fall asleep with Klaude, but settling back and keeping his eyes closed was close enough.

Just as he relaxed, Klaude shifted and sat up. Richard opened his eyes to see that Klaude was scrubbing at his face.

“Ugh… I feel like such a mess after I cry,” Klaude grumbled. “I can only imagine how splotchy and awful I look.”

“Oh, it’s not bad,” Richard assured him. Sure, he was a bit splotchy and his eyes were puffy. But that was a given with how pale Klaude was, and Richard didn’t think it looked awful at all. The sight of him so heavily pregnant and having so obviously cried tugged at Richard’s protective instincts and made him feel guilty all over for having scared the other man so much. He wanted to wrap his arms tight around Klaude and smother him, keep him safe and happy all to himself, but let that stay a fantasy.

Instead of making Klaude upset by doing something foolish, Richard pulled out a fresh handkerchief of his own and wiped the last traces of tears from his face. Once Klaude was satisfied that he wasn’t so ‘messy,’ he leaned back against the back of the sofa and spread his legs to make room for his belly. Comfortable, he gave his belly a rub and then pulled up his sweater and the shirt he was wearing underneath it to expose his entire abdomen.

Richard bit his tongue before he could ruin anything by running his mouth again.

Klaude’s belly was flushed pink around the belly button with its tightness and covered with angry stretch marks all over. It was astonishing how Klaude’s abdomen had expanded and his skin stretched to hold their children and his new weight.

Watching Klaude rub his own belly, Richard was frozen. He didn’t want to disturb the blond, make him tug his sweater back down. As he stared, he noticed that Klaude avoided touching his popped belly button. It was probably sensitive, the prince reasoned, with how Klaude’s body seemed to be struggling to contain itself.

Glancing at Richard, Klaude seemed to notice him again and blushed, his hands stilling. “It- it feels nicer, like this.” Richard just nodded, swallowing. Klaude’s face reddened even more, but he lifted his hands and offered, “Do you want to feel-”

His hands were on Klaude before he even finished asking. His belly was warm and firm, and Richard applied just a bit of pressure to see how it felt.

“Mm- j-just be gentle, alright?”

“Will I feel them move?” Richard asked.

“They haven’t been terribly active recently… there’s not much room.”

As if to prove him wrong, Richard felt a shift under his hand and then a kick. “Oh! Hello there, little one.” He leaned forward and rested his head on Klaude’s belly. When he almost immediately felt a hand carding through his hair, he grinned like a fool. To the babies, he said, “I hope Klaude’s been telling you two good things about me. Actually, I hope he’s at least mentioned me. Even if it was just about how worried he was-”

“I was not worried,” Klaude insisted, embarrassed.

There was another shift and kick.

“Even they can tell when you’re lying, Klaude!”

“You’ve got them both riled… “

“They’re just excited to hear me.” He turned his head so he could look up at Klaude. “I’ll try not to excite them too much. Wouldn’t do to get them so excited to meet me that they come out before the wedding.”

“Exactly.” Klaude gave him a glare but then yawned.

Richard sat up. “Tired, love?”

“Always. Your children have been a menace to my sleep schedule. I’ve never taken so many naps in my life.”

Richard pulled Klaude against his chest. “How about a nap with me before dinner, then?”

“Hm, I suppose that would be nice. I’d rather not sleep on this couch, though.”

“To the bed, then.” He helped Klaude up and wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. When Klaude went to pull his sweater down, Richard caught his hand and went, “Ah-ah! I’m not done saying hello to the children just yet. We’re going to keep talking while you get some rest.”

Klaude scoffed. “I’m sure that’s your intention. But… well, just make sure it’s comfortable, my prince, or I won’t be happy when I’m exhausted.”

“I accept your challenge, my lord.”

#mpreg #male pregnancy #original #Silvers - story tag #prince richard silvers #klaude goldsborough #ezekiel goldsborough #elizabeth valentine

5 notes · View notes

izlaria · 3 years

Text

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.

#plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #cyance #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #vld lance #pidge gunderson #katie holt #lance mcclain #vld fanfiction #vld syl verse

21 notes · View notes